SGENE I. Richmond-Hill.

BLess my Eyes from an Apparition! What art thou? Thou canst not be Tom Quickwit!

As sure as thou art Ned Cunnington the Ungodly, my Brother in Iniquity, and Fellow-Collegian.

Thou seem'st my Brother-Collegian indeed by thy Voice and Grimace; but then agen thou may'st be Brother to some Prince by thy Habit. Prithee let me look on thee and wonder!

Do, do, Ned, wonder on, whilst I slouch my Hat, and practice the Air of a Country-Booby of Quality to improve thy Admiration.

Harkee; prithee let me ask thee a civil Question: Hast not made some Nokes of Quality here about Richmond drunk, and stole his Clothes, hah?

No, ye Rogue; tho' I am your Brother in Wit, I am no kin to ye in Mischief. I love to give occasion for Men's Wonders; and there's a Mystery in this Habit, Ned, surpasses all your Cunning to find out. But come, to examine now in my turn: Prithee, what Project hast thou now a-foot here at Richmond? For by this comical Disguise, there must be some­thing more than ordinary. What stanch Fool hast thou to Cully out of his Money? Or, what half-Fool out of Meat, Drink, and Lodging, hah?

Why to tell thee the Truth, I am intrigu'd here with a Son of a Whore, who is also the Son of a Knight, and have (thus equipp'd as I am) been with him to Night upon a Frolick.

Intrigu'd was an admirable Word there; for thy Bubbles are all us'd like common Whores; when thou hast had thy Pleasure of 'em, they [Page 2] are left to their Fortune. Well, and this Compound makes up one sub­stantial Fool; hah?

Yea, verily; Fools, half Fools, and such like, are Cunnington's Real Estate; and sometimes I've the luck to have a Wit to provide my Personal. I am a true Terrae Filius, and flourish by the Abuse of Mankind, wanting seldom or never Matter to work upon: But if some malignant Planet should reign, whenever you hear that I am out of Fool, you may reasonably conclude too that I am out at Elbows.

A little Hardship is a good Whetstone to make Wit sharp; and we poor Fellows, Ned, that live by 'em, like Black birds, thrive best in hard Weather: For not being born to Estates for our selves, Fortune has dis­pos'd 'em to others with weaker Brains for us to manage. Now I improve my Talent by Love, Compliance, Insinuation, &c. I love every body, and every body loves me: I oblige all People; I mimick this or that Sot in Company, to humour perhaps one that's a worse himself. I flatter and sing to the Women, to get their Tongues on my side too: And now and then when I am desir'd by some rich Booby that's worth the managing, I can turn my Face into a Changling Grimace, and act like Solon in the Play; when, as I hope to be sav'd, I'm all the while bant'ring him, and thinking him the more comical Solon of the two, as a Man may say.

Why this is an artful Method, I confess; but, for my part, if I should practice it, I should starve: For to tell thee the truth, I love no body; nay, what's worse, can hardly counterfeit common Courtesie to the World. The reason is, I hate all People that I think happier than my self: If that Man has a fine Coach, I wish his Horses may founder; if this has a pretty Wife, I wish him a plaguy fit of the Stone, and my self a bed with her: If a third has a rich Cargo in a Ship, or a fourth a deli­cate House, I wish one may be sunk to the bottom, and t'other burnt to the ground.

Ha, ha, ha; an incomparable Humour 'faith.

Well, Ned, I see thou art now about some new Project, and 'twould do thee an injury to keep thee longer from thy Vocation, therefore I'll leave thee.

Ah, Brother, I smell your drift; my Grannum there must be Ha [...]binger to some notable Intrigue. Come 'faith, impart, I'll assist thee; I'm good at it thou know'st.

Ay, but this is a secret only proper for my Sphere of Activity; besides, I have had this Advice formerly, Keep Cunnington from thy Se­cret and thy Mistress, or he'll certainly endeavour to betray the one, and debauch the other; and so no more wheedling, good Brother. Ha, ha, farewel, farewel.

This Rogue has some profitable Design on foot, that's most cer­tain; and now I think on't, it may be as profitable to me to over-reach him in it. 'Gad, I'm a strange odd sort of a Fellow; I do not only envy [Page 3] a Man that's richer than I am, but that's wittier too; and would by my Good-will engross all the Money in the World, and all the Sense too. New is my Head as full of mischievous Contrivance, as a young Thief that is just going to do his Probation Exploit; and from my Brain I have present information, That the Old Woman that was here just now, is wove in Quickwit's Design: I'll after, and dog her; these old Runts are as leaky as Sieves: And if I can, by speaking French giberish pretending to be a German Astrologer, get to tell her her Fortune, all the rest of her Secrets shall quickly be laid open. Humph, this may turn to good advantage of my side too, and be more valu'd, as flowing from the Fountain of my own Wit: I hate the poor Satisfaction of being oblig'd to Fortune for a Benefit.

My Noble Lord de la Fool, your Lordship's most Obedient—Ha, ha, ha! Why 'faith, Tom, I think we have equipp'd thee with as decent a Garb as any Whimsical Peer of 'em all need to wear. Prithee cock thy Hat, and strut a little more.

Oh, Pox, I can do that well enough: But how to act the Mad­man right, and bubble the Doctor, therè will be the difficulty.

Oh, prithee, affront not thy own Abilities: Thou wert a rare Mi­micker at the University, I remember, and I'm sure canst not lose thy Ta­lent so soon: Besides, this is a Doctor for the purpose; Positive, Ignorant, and easie to be impos'd on; one that having a long Worm in his own Pate, solidly believes he can cure it in other Men's. He was first Apothecary of a Physick-Garden; but hapning to cure the Son of a great Statesman that had crack'd his Brains with studying to out-do his Father, in out-witting the French Councils, got himself into Money and Reputation, and is now, forsooth, President of the Insanery.

And are you sure the young Lady will help me out at a pinch, and that she only counterfeits her self mad for your sake?

Most certainly. I have told thee nothing but Truth, upon my Honour. Oh, she's the Soul, the Miracle of her Sex:

Besides, I have often, as a Lesson, told thee, That Sir Charles, her Father­in-Law and Guardian, being always an inveterate Enemy to our Family; and designing her for his own Son, has forc'd me to this Artifice of thy As­sistance, and that sweet Angel to frustrate all other Pretensions, to act a witty Scene of Lunacy.

Your Brother Sir Quibble Quere, you tell me, is to be bubbled too; so that I find I'm to divide my Brains into three several Projects: First, to disappoint the Guardian: Secondly, to banter the Doctor: And, third­ly, to make a meer Ass of your Brother, to pay a friendly Tribute to your Wit. As I take it, Sir, this is my Charge.

Thou hast hit it, dear Tom; 'tis so. He's but my half-Brother [Page 4] thou know'st, and can claim but little Obligation upon the score of Affi­nity. Besides, he's a Block-head, and I have only hedg'd him into this Bu­siness to stand buff with his Purse upon occasion, and pay the Expence of it. My Mother did me manifest wrong by crossing the strain. Her last Husband, old Sir Quibble Quere, was, for above thirty Years together, an old Court-Follower; but of so harmless a Character, that tho' he never bet­ter'd himself, he hindred no one else, being always like a Turn stile, stan­ding in every body's way, and hindering no body. He was also called here, The Teizer of Richmond, and would ask you more foolish Questions in a quarter of an Hour, than a hundred wise Men could answer in a Year: And this Brother of mine is his own, by this Light. See, yonder he comes. I have told him I've employ'd thee, and prepar'd him aptly for the Busi­ness—Now if thou can'st but answer silly Questions briskly, thou win'st him for ever.

Brother, good Morrow t'ee.

Oh, Brother, your humble Servant, y'are well met, we have been contriving here for ye; this is the honest Gentleman I told ye of.

Is this Mr. Quickwit, Brother, that I saw when I was at Lon­don, he that mimick'd the Madman so comically.

This is that very ingenious Person, Brother.

Oh dear! Well, I'll say't, he did it purely. Sir, your humble Servant.

Sir, I am yours extreamly.

Ha, ha, ha, you have dress'd him to a T, I see▪ Brother.

As the Noble Family of the De-la▪Fools ought, Brother.

Ha, ha, ha: And pray, Sir, when did you come to Town? Who was your Bedfellow last Night? Which is your Inn? And what have you for Dinner to Day, Sir?

Four as pretty pertinent Questions as a Man could wish to answer.

Why, Sir, I came to Town yesterday, half an Hour, half a Quar­ter, and seven Seconds past Five in the Afternoon: I lodge at Boddycotts, at the Red Lyon: I have a good Rump of Beef and Carrots for my Din­ner: I lay with one Nick Fiery face, an honest Attorney of Staple-Inn, and had like to have lain with a pretty Black-ey'd Cook-maid, belonging to the House: And there's an Answer overplus for once to oblige ye, Sir.

Why merry be thy Heart, thou'rt a pure Fellow, I'll sayt. And prithee who hast left behind thee in London now?

There's another very pretty Question.

Why faith, about three or four Millions I believe, Sir; I could not well spare time enough to take all their Particulars.

And prithee how does the Play-House? How does Mr. Better­ton, and my old Friend, Mr. Nokes? Prithee when did he play Sir Martin last, hah? Does Mr. Sandford Act the Villain still, prithee? And jolly Cave Underhill in Epsom Wells? How does my Comical Justice do, hah?

Hold, hold, Sir, you're to fast upon me; be pleased to couple [Page 5] your Questions, and I'm at your Service; but for so many of 'em toge­ther, 'Gad I ha'n't half Memory enough, Sir.

D [...]'life, thou flagg'st already; hold out briskly, Man.

Damm him, I begin to be in a Sweat.

And how does Mrs. Barry Act now, hah?

Oh to a Miracle Sir—There he was pretty reasonable.

She plays the Queen in the Spanish Fryar better than any Wo­man in England: I'll say't, I had rather see her wag after the [...]idlers in the Procession there, than see another Coronation ad'sdiggers. And Mr. Powel, what's he doing prithee, hah?

Hah; the Devil hah ye—'Sdeath, here will be no end of this doing: Why how the Devil should I know, unless I cou'd conjure.

I mean, what new Part is he studying? Ad'snigs, that Powel's a very pretty Fellow. Where lies the Scene I wonder? what's the Hu­mour on't? and how does he contrive?

Hey day, Where? What? and How? nay faith, Sir, if you don't stand to your Article of coupling your Questions, I can be no longer your Interpreter; and so your Servant. Oh—

Ha, ha, ha, ha, there's one Bowen too, a notable Joker, hah?

Prithee excuse me now, 'tis so long since I was in Town, that I even long to hear of all the new things.

Not all at a time, I beseech ye, Sir; the rest will be a new Diver­sion for you to morrow.

No, faith, I must have 'em now. And Mrs. Bracegirdle, prithee where is she now?

Ay, ay, Mrs. Bracegirdle: Come, Tom, your Answer quickly.

So, he has set me a conjuring agen.

When I was last at the Play, and she was saying of this, my Mouth, I'll say't, went to-and-agen, to-and-agen, as fast as hers, and repeated, it after her so loud, that all the People in the Pit thought I was bewitch'd.

Ay, and the Devil take me if I don't think thee bewitch'd now▪

Then there's Mr. Dogget, that Acted Solon so purely, O Lord, what's become of him, prithee?

And then, I'll say't, there's Mr. Bowman, and Mr. Bright, and Mr. Hud­son, and Mr. Hains; and tho' last, not least in Love, the only remaining Branch of the old Stock, honest Mr. Kinaston.

Oh, he has a rare way with him, I'll say't, and a number besides these, that I have forgot; Prithee, How, and Which, and What, and Where, and Why, and When,—

Whiew! Nay then your Servant i'faith.

S'death, come away immediately, here's Sir Charles and the Do­ctor coming down the Hill; away Tom, I have some more Instructions to give you yet.

Ay, with all my Heart, I shall be blunderbuss'd with Wheres, and Whats, and Whens else—A Plague of his Epileptick Visage, he's gaping for another Quere I see.

Pox take him, I had above Twenty Questions more ready, but especially about Hains, and his Fortune-telling; 'gad I will know some­thing about that I'm resolv'd, for that's a Material Point.

Therefore, as I was saying, Doctor, look well to your Patient, she is not only my Daughter-in-Law and Ward, but the Darling Jew­el of my Life, the Treasury of my Son's Hopes too, an Heiress worth Fifty thousand Pounds, who, had not this delirious Accident hapned, should have been this Hour happy in his Embraces by Marriage.

Fear not, Sir, my Care and Medicines will work the desired Effect.

Madness, Doctor, is but a more extravagant sort of Wit, cau­sed by the excessive Heat in the Brain: I studied the very Point many Years ago, in the Colledge at Barcelona; 'tis but the Skill of cooling the Part, and the Patient presently recovers.

Ay, but, Sir, this is a new Case, and I must do it specifically; for she is very obstinate, and will take no Medicines; nor do I resolve to make her Blood ferment, by putting her into a Rage about it, she has Fire enough already; for about the Age of Eighteen the Heat predo­minates extreamly in her Sex; and then, if ever they are infected, they become strongly delirious.

Your Reason, Doctor?

Why, Sir, at that Age the warm Quality of their Blood, fermented by the force and vigour of the Animal Spirits, naturally make 'em half mad: To remedy which there are but Two ways, which are either to get them Husbands just in the Nick, or for want of such Provision to send 'em to me.

Why, God-a▪mercy Doctor, this old Fellow is too Lepid to be a Whoremaster sure: If this hoary Elder should be a Rogue now, and make use of a natural Recipe to cure my Daughters Madness, my Son and I were finely serv'd.

Farewel, Sir; I'll make as quick a Cure of your Daughter as I can, because I very suddenly expect a Noble Lord under my Custody. Adieu.

This jealous Humour of mine is a great Fault: Here's a poor old Fellow, that is so much a Cripple, he can scarce drag his Legs after him, and yet I must suspect him for a Whoremaster. Well, I must go af­ter and humour him, least when he has cur'd my Daughter, he should, in revenge, Introduce new Suitors to her, and so baffle my Son's Designs; who, I think, I see coming down the Hill yonder,—Ay, 'tis he, and two more with him; they seem in hot Dispute; I'll stay a little while longer to observe.

But prithee, a Pox on thee Will, what a Devil ails thee that thou art so averse to my way of intriguing, when I tell thee, Women, dear Women, are the only Comforts of my Life, I can neither eat, drink, nor sleep well without 'em? And my Welch Cousin Rice ap Shinken here is of my own Humour to a Hair; he chuckles at a White Petticoat like a Turkeycock at a Red one; he's the very Devil at a Wench; Cat after kind, as the Proverb has it, the Britains were all Whoremasters from the beginning.

The Shinkins was peare as crete Lovers to the pretty Omans, that is fery true; the plack Eyes, with the plack Eyebrows, was goot; and when her sees the Red Lip, the White Skin, and the soft Pubby, then Shinkin's Heart was peat, peat, peat, like a Drum, by Cadwallader.

Peat, peat, peat! What a Plague can any one above the Degree of a Kitchin, love a Fellow that makes Fritters of English, as Falstaffe says? A Welsh Beau, with a Head as barren as the Mountains in his own Country. Ha, ha, ha, I'll ne'er believe it; I'm resolv'd to abuse these Puppeys for dear Frederick's sake, whom I know they hate.

The Muntains in her Country was fery goot Muntains, and breed fery goot Sheep and Coats, look you, and if Williams is Cholericks, that is not much, her will laugh and be merry, look you, if Williams is Cholerick, he, he, he ha.

Ay, ay, Will, you must not think to beat us out of conceit with our selves with drolling: 'Gad I know a Lord's Wife near St. Iames's that's ready to die for me; she says, of all charming things in the Universe she admires my Nose.

Ridiculous! I'll neer believe such a Satyr upon the Sex: Why there's not a Negro in Town but can fit her with a better.

Oh, I know him now, this is Hotspur, one of Frederick's Friends, and the Enemy of our Family.

There is likewise, look you, Williams, the young, sweet, sharming, pretty Daughter to a crete Shudge yonder, that is in love with Shinkin for his Leg, look you; here is the Symetry, here is the Shape, here is the Calf, look you, and here is the Small, fery goot.

Leg! 'Oons, I have seen a handsomer upon a Gate for High Trea­son, after it has stuck parching in the Sun above a Twelvemonth.

Why does not that Welch Runt give him three or four Kicks now with that Leg the Lady is so in Love with? Sure this will come to some­thing anon; now I shall see what Mettle the Boy has.

Now Williams is Cholericks agen, ha, ha, ha, ha. Harkee, do you know me, Williams?

Know thee? oh yes, thou art his Ape, both things so contempti­ble with the Women, that—

Look you, Williams, if Apes be Signals of Affronts and Disparage­ments, splut her shall not find Shinkin so tame.

Phoo, prithee don't mind what he says, Cousin Rice: Come here's that shall undeceive him presently—Look Will, to prove to thee [Page 8] what a Favourite I am with that dear, dear Sex, I will shew thee some Favours from 'em; for, to say Truth, I never took any true Pleasure in an Intrigue with a Woman, if I had not the Satisfaction of Exposing her to my Friend.

Well said, trusty Knight, the Woman has blest her self with a true Friend of thee in the mean time.

Why, I enjoy n 'em to secresie, Man, so that she's secure enough in Conscience, as I will thee now; therefore be sure you don't tell any Body: D'ye hear?

'Faith, but I will, Sir, if you tell me any thing.

S'death, not draw yet! What a Plague do's he mean?

Pshaw, pshaw, that's all one, I'll trust thee for all that, Faith; why, I've a thousand things to divert thee with, Man; and, 'Gad take me, have the greatest Pleasure in the World in telling 'em: First then here's a Billet Deux, from my Lord Awekings's Daughter, a great Man at Court, and a swinging Politician, who, having more Business in his Head than to mind his Daughters, gave me opportunity at the Musick-meeting at Lon­don, to make an Intrigue; and the Creature is now grown so fond, that my Father was fain to design a Wife for me, here at Richmond, to divert me. Thou shalt hear what she writes: Sweet, sweet, sweet Tomme, canst thou find in thy Heart to be so long away from thy dear, deare, deare Betty? Ah, sweet Creature!—'Gad, I believe I shall wear the Paper to a Cobweb with kissing it.

S'death, can there be so simple a Creature in Nature?

Prithee mind me. I swear I never go to Bed but I dream of thee, nor ever rise without crying: My dear, sweet, heavenly Tomme is always in my Thoughts: And if his poor Betty were half so much in his, I'm sure he would come this Night through the Boards of the little House in the Garden to see her, as he us'd to do. That was our way of meeting, you must know; and, 'Gad, I have been plaguely incommoded sometimes to get cleanlily to her. But didst ever hear any thing so Soft and Tender? hah!

Never any thing so Silly before, the Devil take me.

Agen an Affront! Now where's the first Pass, now Tom?

There is crete deale of Doubts, and Jealousies, and Pribbles, and Prabbles, which shew Loves and Affections, look you.

Then, in the second place, here is a Garter of Sir Thomas Wit­tal's Lady's, here at Cue, taken from above her Knee with my own Hand I'll swear; a Locket, from pretty Peggy, Daughter to one Quicksilver a Goldsmith, at the Cawdle Cup in Lombard-street; a Picture, from dear Ien­ny Flippant, a rich Widows Niece in the old▪ Pall-Mall; a Roman Glove, from sweet Lady Susanna Simple, in St. Iames's-Square. And more, to shew ye that I deal with all degrees of Females, come hither, Sirrah, there's a piece of delicate Point, from Moll a Sempstress in the New-Exchange, to make me a Crevat; and a Head of curious bright Hair, from my Lady Freckles Chamber-Maid, to make me a Peruke.

This is so like these young Rogues, to brag of their Mistresses Favours.

Red and rank as a Fox by Iove: Pox on thee, Bright, dost call it▪

And, to shew ye that the Prittains are admir'd too, look you here was delicate creen Leeks, sent by young Widows of her Cousin Tomas ap Evan, ap Rice, ap Shones, ap Davy, ap Shinken, as a Token of her Love, and to wear in her Cap upon St. Davy's Day.

Death, ye brace of Buffoons, what d'ye teize me with all this Stuff for?

How, Boffoon, 'Sdeath, and near a hole in his Guts yet? Oh, cowardly Villain!

Stay, stay, I have two things more in my Fob here better than all; first here's a Bracelet of witty Sophronia's; and, above all, a Seal, with a wounded Heart engrav'd upon Coral, of my deare, deare Fulvia's.

Nay, then I'll no longer have Patience, therefore draw, for ye Lye.

The Lye; so, 'Gad I'll whip him through the Midriff my self, if he takes that.

For, first, Sophronia is a Woman of too much Sence to give a Bracelet to such an Insect: And, secondly, Fulvia is my Friends Mistress, and has no Heart but for him. Come on, Pox, come both of ye.

Stand to her, Cousin; splut, her will shew her a Welsh Thrust.

The Truth is, that last was a Lye; but since the Welsh-man's Blood's up, I'm resolv'd to vindicate it: Come, Sir.

Hold, hold Tom, and Cousin come you back; tho, his Inso­lence deserves Chastisement, he shall not have it to the dishonour of our Family; I'll take it upon my self: Come on Sir, you that were so hot.

Ay, Sir, with all my Heart.

Pray Unkle let hur go, hur has kill'd no Rascals since hur came from Wales.

Prithee, old Gentleman, get you out o'th way, I'm in the hu­mour of killing him.

Son Tom, it must not be: What's your Name, Sir? you are like to scape this time.

Why then a Pox on ye all, my Name's Hotspur, and you may see me at the Wells every Morning; and more, to provoke ye to take Satis­faction, know that I am Friend to Frederick, and will espouse his Interest in the Heiress to the last; and so adieu.

Ay, 'tis so, 'tis this rich Heiress is the cause of all these Brawls; but come Son, since thou hast me of thy side, be confident, Policy as well as the Sword shall secure her to thee: For above all the World's great Be­nefits, a Wife is best in her good Circumstances.

But a rich Heiress here's, a Heavenly thing.

SCENE I.

A true Friend is the most solid Good a Man can possess in this World: And tho', dear Will, I ought extreamly to thank thee for abusing those two Fools for my sake, yet I could wish Sir Charles had been absent, least this new occasion of distaste may cause him to be more vigilant, and so hinder our Plot upon the Heiress.

Faith, dear Fred, I beg thy Pardon with all my Heart if I did amiss; but the Devil take me if I could contain my self after hearing such a Preposterous deal of Impudence and Folly: I could have beaten them with a better Will than a Turk would a Christian Slave that he found had an Intrigue with his VVife or Daughter.

Well, well, let's to the Proof, I long, methinks, to be acting my Madman: And as for Numps here, he'll do his part to a Miracle, I have taught him his Lesson perfectly.

What, my Lord de la Fool's old Serving-man, he has hit the Family Beard to a Hair I see, and 'tis impossible he should miscarry; for I am privately inform'd the Doctor knows neither of them by sight, and has only heard of a Son of the Countesses that was mad, and suddenly to be brought to him as a Patient.

The Letter I have given him there expresses all that. But be sure to remember your Canting West-Country Tone, Numps, and your by-word, 'Odswokers.

Well, well, Why thou canst not think, mun, che can forget as zoon as chave learn'd it: Why zure chant a bin a Schollard zo long but that che can con my Lesson, 'Odswokers: What, does the Mon take me for a Vool? Umph.

Admirably well, Numps, and there's a Guinea to encourage thee.

The Rogue mouths it as if he had been bred at Taunton-Dean indeed.

Well then, away both to your Tasks: Oh, I long to have the E­vent answer the Expectation; get her but off, Tom, and the promis'd Five hundred Pounds shall be as ready as the joyful Minute.

I us'd to be successful in these Matters: But if I should return now, like a maim'd Tarpawling from a Sea-Fight, with a Leg or an Arm lost in your Service, you can't do less than procure me a Place in the Ho­spital.

Ah, never fear, there's no such danger.

No, no, the worst on't can be but a dozen or two of Kicks, a Cud­gel, a Rib or two broke, or so, that's all.

Ay, ay, that's a small Matter, you know. Well, what ere comes on't, I'm resolv'd to venture; and so Fortune for us: Come along Numps.

Ha, ha, ha: Now shall I be as impatient till I have an Account of this Rogue's Proceedings, as a young Heir that hears his niggardly Father is sick, is, till he hears he's dead.

If my Eyes dazzle not, yonder's a Subject very proper to improve your Patience, a Lady, Fred, a reading.

Sophronia, as I live; ay, Will, this is a Lady indeed, the Wonder of her time: Dost know her?

Not to Intimacy, and yet enough to hear of your Worship's for­mer Intrigue with her. What a strange Fellow wert thou to desert so fine a Lady? I've heard there was a Contract between ye.

Some slight Papers, I think, which I know her Pride is too great ever to expose, or call me to an account [...]for. Besides, what's a Pro­mise, when put in Competition with Fifty thousand Pounds, Will? No, no, she was too wise for me, her Wit was always too Satyrical; a Quality I could never suffer in a Woman: She'd conjure me with Morals out of Seneca; and run me down an hour or two together in Argument on the Towns Common Vices; nay, and what I hated worse than all the rest, tho' all her Friends knew well enough she lov'd me, her Pride, that was too great to let her own it, would make her always use me ill before 'em.

They call her here in Richmond, The Female Plain Dealer.

They do so, and justly too, for she takes as much Pride in speak­ing blunt Truths, as the rest of her Sex do in studying queint Lyes. But see, the Walk begins to fill, here's more of the Tribe coming.

And if I am not mistaken, Will, there's one of your Acquaintance, if you ha'n't forgot your little French Pinnace you us'd to brag of so, Mrs. Stockjobb.

Forget her! 'D'sdeath, I should as soon forget my Sex; why she's my All, Man, my Estate Real and Personal: She came hither first as a Protestant Refugee, and full of seeming Sanctity, but betwixt thee and I, Fred, a very Cheat: She's Dick Stockjobb's Wife, 'tis true, but a Meet-help to me alone, Fred.

I have heard of that City-Fool, they say he got all his E­state by drawing in worse Fools than himself to lay Wagers, this Siege, or that Battle, this Fight at Sea, or that on Shore; and for the late City Crimp of Stockjobbing, a very Dragon, tho' in other Matters poor, sneaking, and uxorious; and the French Woman, I hear, manages him rarely. But, prithee, who is t'other, by her fantastical Behaviour that must be some extraordinary Creature too?

Oh, she's a Rarety of another kind, one Madam Squeamish, she's a Native of Richmond here, very fantastick and impertinent, as thou sayst; for which she has every Summer a new Lampoon made of her, that does so teize her, that she grows lean upon't, and can't forbear expressing her Resentments in all Companies.

Well, Sir, I'll leave you to their Management, and the rather, because I see yonder Philosophical Lady is turning this way, and I am not at present armed for a Rencounter. Farewell; we'll meet at Night at the Red Lyon.

What Paper's that they are so busie upon? I'll stand aside and listen.

Was there ever so barbarous a Disappointment, Cousin! Ex­pecting a Letter this Morning from the dear, dear Man I admire beyond all earthly Joy, my Maid brings me this, with the fold and visage of a Billet deux; but, oh horrid! I had no sooner open'd it, and prepar'd to feast my longing Eyes with what they expected, but, fogh! what does it prove to be, but an odious Lampoon, and the most nauseous filthy thing that ever was heard, as I'm a Virgin!

Dis is now de Barbarity of your Nation: In France we have no Scandal, no Affront, noting mal à propos: You may sing, you may dance, you may keep de bon Companee, vid dis great Lord, or toder Gen­tleman; and yet dere is no dam Lampoon. Diable! if de Autor had dare abuse me so, by dis Hand I voud find him out, and murder him.

Why then you must find him out, and murder him, Cousin; for hear you are for your Comfort, and swingingly.

By my Faite de Fellow dat did say dis, is de very dam Ras­cal in de whole Varle; I vill poison him, I vill hang, I vill have his Trote cut, by dis Hand.

But prithee, Cousin, who is this Hotspur that they slander you with?

'D'sdeath, I can forbear no longer! Why, Madam, this Hotspur is forth▪ coming, if your Ladiship has any use for him. By your leave, good Madam: 'Pray let me inspect this Paper a little.

Damme, if any Rascal has abus'd us, I'll maul him.

He here; vat sall me do now! Us! vat you mean, Sir? I know you not; you are de Stranger to me.

Oh fie, Cousin; pray don't let my Company cause a breach of Acquaintance. Come, you must own him a little.

Pox! prithee don't stand upon Punctilio's now, Fubbs, but help me to find out this damn'd Poet. I'll teach him to Lampoon me: I'll slaughter him, by Heaven.

Why really, Sir, 'tis a horrid brutal Trick these Fellows have got: A Woman can't enjoy her Youth in a degree a little above the Vul­gar, but, oh horrid! she's presently popp'd into a Lampoon. I did but in­nocently regale my self t'other day, amongst other choice Female Friends, at my Lady Goodfellow's, with a Glass or two of Hockamore, and if [Page 13] the beastly Poet, in his next Paper, did not say I was drunk there, I'm no Christian! O filthy!

Your Servant, Mrs. Squeamish; nay, I have heard all, and as a Friend to Justice and Morality, altho' unask'd, must give you my Opinion too.

She hear! oh horrid! nay, then we shall be teiz'd to death. She has more Tongue than twenty Lawyers, and rails with more Malice than a Terrae Filius at Oxford, that has been just expell'd the University.

Dis is ver Deevil of a Woman; I must wheedle her, dere is no oder way. Your most humble and obedient Slave, dear Madam.

Oh no Ceremony, good Mrs. Stockjobb: But, Mrs. Squeamish, pri­thee why art thou so mortally offended at this Lampoon? Methinks the Poet speaks very honestly.

Honestly, Madam! What, to say I was drunk? Oh filthy!

Drunk indeed was a little too uncourtly: Mellow had been a good Word there; for to my knowledge there were six Quarts drunk in two hours time between four of ye, besides my Lady's farewel-Bottel of Aqua­mirabilis. Her fat Ladiship I hear set a great while before the Sun; and for the rest of ye, your Tongues were all as glib as a Consort of Midwives at a City-Christ'ning.

Vell, dis I must say of de French, Dey are de most temperate People in de whole Varld; l'Homme du Cour delights in noting but de cool Mead, de Tizzan, or de Sherbet vid Ice.

Yes, the comfortable Usquebagh, the refreshing Spirit of Clary, or sometime the cool Brandy and Burrage, good Mrs. Stockjobb.

Oh fie, fie, fie, Madam; de Brandy is de Regale for de Dutch, not de French: Here is de strange difference, De Brandy vill make de French-man as dull as de Dog, and de Dutch man to fight like de Deevil: Beside, our Native are given to make Love mush, vich is great Enimy to Drink. De English-man vill come drunk to his Metress, break her Vindow, tear, her Commode, and kick her Lap-Dog, vhen de French man dare no [...]oush one Hair of his Tail, but look like de Fool, and sigh. Dere is de dif­ference agen, all is Cringe, all Obeisance; dere is no Huff, no mal Visage, no Pesantry in France, ma Foy.

But will you vindicate a Lampoon, Madam? oh horrid!

A filthy Libel dat sall sawzily affront le Femme du Qualité, and have de impudence to expose—

To expose the good Man your Husband's Cuckoldom, and your close Intrigue with this Hotspur that is mention'd there; that indeed is very sawcy, Mrs. Stockjobb.

So there's a Bob for me again. Nay, nay, good Madam, turn the Tide of your satyrical Vein another way, I don't like this kind of Railery.

Oh, cry ye mercy, Sir, you need not tell me your Sentiments; I know an honest Reflection must needs be Rhubarb to a Man of your Kid­ney and Character.

My Character! why what's my Character, Madam?

Why troth, Sir, no very good one; and since you'll have it told, 'tis—let me see, A lewd, vain, noisie, impertinent, drunken, roaring, de­bauch'd Character.

So, so, she has fitted me for asking Questions.

Come, Sir, for once I'll be a little satyrical, and venture to describe the course of life of all you Men of the Town: In the Morning the first thing you do is, to reflect on the debauch of the Day before; and instead of saying your Prayers as you ought, relate the lewd Folly to some other young rakehelly Fellow, that happens to come to your Leve: The next thing is to dine, where instead of using some witty or moral Discourse that should tend to improvement, you finish your Desert with a Jargon of senceless Oaths, a relish of ridiculous Bawdy, and strive to get drunk before ye come to the Play.

The Devil's in her; she has nick'd us to a Hair.

Then at the Play-House ye ogle the Boxes, and dop and bow to those you do not know, as well as those you do. Lord! what a world of sheer Wit too is wasted upon the Vizard-Masks! who return it likewise back in as wonderful a manner. You nuzzle your Noses into their Hoods and Com­modes, just for all the world like the Picture of Mahomet's Pigeon, when he gave the false Prophet his ghostly Instructions. Fogh how many fine things are said there, perfum'd with the Air of sour Claret! which the well-bred Nymph as odoriferously returns in the scent of Lambeth-Ale and Aqua­vitae

'D's heart, what shall I do! I shall ne'er have patience to hear this.

Then at Night ye graze with the hard-driven Cattel you have made a purchase of at the Play, and strut and hum up and down the Ta­vern with a swashy Mien, and a terrible hoarse Voice, which the Lady (to engage your liking) returns with some awkward Frisks, instead of Dan­cing, and a Song in a squeaking Voice, as untunable as a broken Bagpipe. Then supper coming in, the Glasses go about briskly. The Fools think the Wenches heavenly Company, and they tell them they are extream fine Gentlemen; 'till at last few Words are best; the Bargain's made, the Pox is cheaply purchas'd at the price of a Guinea, and no repentance on neither side. What think ye, Sir, am I not a rare Picture drawer?

'Faith yes, Madam, and must sure have been a Practiser you self, you have done it so exactly. 'D's death! no Help yet! Oh, here comes Stockjobb; this was lucky: I shall be reliev'd now, sure.

Hoh, honest Will, good morrow to thee; good morrow, Cou­sin Siss, and Madam your Servant, and so forth. What, and Pegry here too! Why how now, little Pogry! how does my Deery! how does my Fawn, my Pricket, my Duck, my Dove, and so forth. Well; does Rich­mond-Air agree with thee? Does little Hans-in-kelder kick yet? Hah, Pogry? Prithee how dost like the Prospect? Is't not a sweet Place, and so forth.

Ony, par ma Foy is it de ver fine Place. Dicky, we have valk dis morning as far as de Mount; dere is de Grove just by de River tout charm [...]nt, vere is de most rare place to lie and sleep in, Dicky.

And to make ye a Cuckold in, Dicky.

Ha, ha, ha! Oh your Servant, Madam, Sophronia; are you so brisk already with your Jokes, and so forth? D'ye hear, Pogry? Madam Sophronia is at her Jokes slap-dash this morning.

Ay, Cousin, she has been breathing her self upon us.

Her Ladiship's out of danger of a Tissick for this Season, I'll war­rant her.

They talk as if she had been beating 'em all, I'll say't. Pray, Madam, why do they talk at this rate? Where lies the Jest on' [...]? What is the meaning of your high Discourse? And when will you Raffle at the Wells again, Madam?

Fool—

Fool! that's nonsence I'll say't. And why Fool, pray, Ma­dam? What, and which, and where, and when, and—

Hold, hold, prithee, Sir Quibble, let me attack her; she call'd me Cuckold you know. Come, Madam, I'll stand ye fair, 'saith: Your Rea­son, your Reason; come, slap dash away with it, and so forth.

Why I have skill in Physiognomy, and see't in thy Face: All Humanes are allotted to some Fate or other, and thine is to be a Cuc­kold. The dimpled Slit there upon the Tip of thy Nose, and shaggy meeting of thy Pent-house Eye-brows, shew it plain, To be brief, a Lampoon upon ye all were a meritorious Work: First you, Mrs. Squeamish, for always railing at it; and yet by your ridiculous Beha­viour perpetually giving cause. Secondly, thee Knight, for being Friends with Fortune, that allots thee to be bubble [...] by thy younger Brother. Next you, Sir, for the intolerable Town▪ Vices of Drinking, Wenching, Gaming, cum m [...]ltis aliis, as I told you before. Then you, good Protestant Refugee, for wheedling and co [...]uting your Dicky there: And last poor Dicky for running about the Town▪ Wagering and Stockjob­bing, when Pogry has a more proper Job for him to look after; and so fare­wel t'ye. [Page 16] Look Sharp, if thou'dst be free from future Scorns; The less thy Heed; the larger still thy Horns.

Hey, Slap dash, why she's as sharp as Vinegar this Morning, and so forth.

Zooks, so she is, I'll say't: But why the Devil does she rail so: And where the Devil has she all her Wit I wonder?

Dis Railery is too morose, she wants de French breeding ex­treamly.

To vindicate a Lampoon? O filthy!

Faith, Dick, Thour't a Fool if thou mind'st what she says, she uses her Father, Brothers and Sisters in this manner.

Not I, slap dash, she may talk what she will, and so forth, I be­lieve nothing against Pogry. Come Cousin, Siss, and Gentlemen, I in­vite ye all to Dinner to Day, for little Pogry and I here, intend to have the Fiddles, and be merry. Hey, slap dash, I vow my Heart's as light as a Feather; for I have laid a World of good Wagers this Morning, I shall get five hundred Pounds by 'em I'm sure; besides Stock rises to a Mi­racle: And I've invented two such rare Projects for the improvement of Tabby Cats Skins for Ladies Muffs, and Spirit of Acorns to cure Agues, that the whole Exchange rings of it. Come, there you shall know my Wagers too, and say of me, as that Eminent Common Council-man, some Years since, did to the then Lord Mayor, Oh how great a Grace from Heaven is a Wise Citizen!

SCENE II.

Well, as I'm a Christian, Sir, if what you have promis'd me prove to be true, you have made me the happiest Woman in the whole World.

Hold a your Tongue, and take care you no cross your Star: Come vere sall we be private?

Have but Patience a Minute, Sir, I'll only go and see what the Doctor is doing, and come and conduct ye immediately.

Make haste; vat you tink de Star vill stay for you.

I go, Sir, I go.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, I find this is some old Waiting-woman belonging to this place, whom I have already turn'd the wrong side outward, with promising her a Husband: I have engaged to tell her Fortune, upon Condition she discovers all her Secrets to me: The first of which shall be, the Discovery of Quickwit's De­sign, which I am resolv'd to ruin, only for the dear sake of the Mischief that will come of it: I have frighted her damnably already; [Page 17] I have made her believe I am the Son of the Devil upon a La [...]land-Witch; and that if she obeys me, she shall live to be a Countess; but if not, she shall be brought to sell Save-alls and Card-matches, old Rags, and Small coal in her old Age, and, at last, die upon a Dunghill near Fleet-ditch. Here she comes, now to my Grimace agen.

Come, Sir, the Coast is clear now: Softly for Heaven's sake; for the Doctor is just coming up.

If he dare come in my presence, I will conjure him—

Bless me!

Vat you pray! Zoon, Let me no hear you pray—go, get you gone.

Well, Friend, the Countess has done me the Honour to inform me in her Letter here, that she relies upon my Skill and Experience to cure her Son, nor shall my diligence be wanting; but she writes me no Word here, whence the Delirium sprung: Prithee how came his Brain distemper'd first; what Accident, what Cause, hah?

Odswokers, and't like your Worship, all that I know is, they zay Maister Toomas was hugely in Love with one of his Lady▪ Countesses Dairy Maids; and becase they cross'd him, he dissolv'd with himself to vall stark mad upon't: Her Name was Mopsee, and't like ye, yow was parlous Jade, yow had a Skin an 'twere any Milk-pan, and a Vace as bright as a Pewter-dish; yow was vengenable handsome, Odswokers—

Odswoker, ha, ha, ha, damn him, What silly Clownish Booby have we got here?

He was come of the ancient Stock of the Pritains, I believe by his Peard: And look you, Cousin, if he is Pritains, he is Shentleman a-course, and Shinken will findicate his Honour.

His Honour, ha, ha, ha, why, hark'e, Cousin, the Beggars have long Beard [...], are they all Gentlemen too?

Look you, Cousin, if they are Pritains, they are.

A Man of Quality! supposed to be well bred too, and run mad for a Dunghil-Drab, a Dairy-Wench! This is very odd. The Name of this unhappy Gentleman, good Doctor?

Why, Sir, his Name is De la Fool, he's of the ancient Family of the De la Fool's of the South; their great Ancestor was a famous Officer un­der King Harold, who being routed by William the Conqueror, fell mad, and the Disease has more or less run in the Blood ever since: There is near them another Family of the De la Wit's too, that are craz'd at one time of the Moon; and indeed, it may be properly said, they divide her between 'em, one being mad in the Wax, and t'other in the Wane.

Nay, nay, 'tis a mad Age here too as well as in the South, and therefore I the less wonder at it; but my Daughter, Doctor, my Daughter, how does she recover?

More of that, Sir, presently—Go, Friend, and try if you can decoy my Lord hither: And go you, Christopher, and bid Marmalet bring her Lady too; there is no better Cure of Lunacy than by reflection, Sir Charles your Daughter's Distemper proceeding from disordered Love, makes her still vent the Effects upon the imaginary Persons; particularly I have observed four, of different Qualities, which are a Courtier, an Alderman, a Politician, and a Divine.

There were four that did formerly teize her for her Estate indeed; but proceed, good Doctor.

To sooth her Malady therefore, and that I may the better time my Medicines, I have ordered four Persons always to stand ready to represent'em, which you and this Gentleman may now as naturally supply; for she distin­guishes very little as yet. Pray stand in order; and, by the Life of Galen, 'twill make ye laugh heartily to see what Freaks she'll perform. Well, Christo­pher, is she coming?

Yes, Sir.

Why then may I never make a good Intrigue more, if this plaguy Doctor instead of a Cure upon me, would not make me run mad in a Week's time, if I were with him.

By his Prabbles and his Pratings, I think his Prains in as pad Condi­tions as his Patients, by St. Davy.

This new Madman, now being possessed with a Frenzy somewhat near his own, will very much assist her; therefore I resolve they shall be much to­gether; for I have some reason to hope the worst is past, because she inclines to Musick, and will often sing very sensibly. Oh, here she comes, pray observe now.

Give me fresh Air, the Place is hot and soultry; the Rooms are warmed with Lovers scorching Sighs that glow and breath upon me. Is there no remedy? Must I be crowded thus—Hah! Who's here? My cringing, complementing, comical, coxcombly Courtier agen, my perpetual Teizer, Sir Thomas Spindle: What Impudence is this? He has nothing but a silly Place at Court, 250l. a Year, it won't buy me Pins: he can't settle four Groats upon me, and yet plagues me Four thousand times in an hour. Lord! how he looks too like a Death's-head in an Apothecaries Shop, his Lips pale, his Eyes sunk, and his Cheeks as thin as an Anatomy: A Cordial, a Cordial, Doctor, the Man's dying; did ye ever see a thing look so?

Lean, lean, Madam, as Lovers generally use to be: I'll advise him to get a pair of Plumpers against he comes next. She takes your Welsh Cousin for the Courtier, Sir Charles.

So now she's safe, I'll back agen to my Fortune-Teller. I was born to be a Countess, as I'm a Christian.

She has been horribly mad I find.

As March-Hairs; look you, Uncle, that is the fery plain truth of Matters.

Pox on't, would she would get her Senses quickly, or give me leave to make Love to some body else: I am like a Fish out of the Water all this while, I can't live nor breath without intriguing; I've above forty Bille [...] deux now ready seal'd that all stick upon my hands, 'Gad take me.

Hah! Sure my Eyes dazle, who comes next here, what the honoura­ble and famous Politician, Mr. Votewell?

Pray observe, Sir, she takes your Son for a Politician.

Indeed, Sir, you wrong your self and the Nation, to leave the Affairs of State for my sake, the French will certainly outwit us in your absence; nay, you shan't stay a minute longer, indeed you shan't. Go, go, Sir, you must go, the Committee wants you—Fie! Fie! A Senator waste his Time in teizing one single Woman, when he may have the Opportunity of plaguing a whole Nation! Faith it shall never be said—Doctor, pray help me, we'll thrust him out.

Ay, 'Gad, would ye would, I shall lose a rare Intrigue else.

Not so, good Madam, he's troubled with the Gout, and too quick a Motion may injure him; we'll send for a Chair: Hey, within there, fetch Mr. Votewell a Chair.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, Oh! the intolerable Machinations of a conceited Statesman; but stay, what more solid Mischief is this approaches me, Hah! sure 'tis impossible; what, Mr. Alderman Niggle? Nay, then I'm surprized indeed.

Good! you are taken for the Alderman, Sir Charles, look grave and feed the Humour.

See how he has powder'd his Peruke, and smugg'd his old Face up with a pernicious Design to ruine me. Look how he frisks and hops about to shew me what heat and vigour remains in Sixty five: Ah!

Hands off, I'm resolv'd you shan't touch me; Fie, Fie, Fie, an old Fellow, and thus rampant: Ah—ah—help, help, Doctor quickly, this Devil of an Alderman will ravish me.

Oh! Fie, Fie, Madam, by the Life of Galen, there's no danger, the Alderman's too old.

Look, he frisks, he dances, he jumps; hark'e d'ye hear him too, he says he stews his Gold-Chain in Harts horn Jelly, and drinks it every mor­ning to make him lusty—Ah—he comes upon me agen, he will ravish me, He can ravish me, help, help.

Oons, 'tis impossible, Madam, when did you ever hear of an Alder­man that ravish'd any Body—If she were in her right Wits now, i should think she meant this as a Satyr upon the City, by the Life of Galen.

This is, indeed, the most fantastical Phrensie that ever I read or heard of: How long does it usually hold her.

Forty minutes together, sometimes more; I have weakned it to forty minutes by my skill, it formerly held her an hour.

To the dear, soft, white, pretty hand of that super-excellent Lady Mrs. Gillian Gingerbread; ah, 'gad take me this billet should have been dispatch'd away this very minute, and here am I playing the fool in a Mad-house.

Nay, pray you Cousins, have patience, she is engaged now with the Fellow in the Placks, look you, pray you let's hear.

Oh,—Mr. Tickletext—

Observe now how the humour turns, now she is come to her Melan­choly sit, and takes Christopher for a Parson.

Reverend Mr. Tickletext, Wise Mr. Tickletext, that ever I should live to see you thus overtaken, to leave your Flock in the Wilderness, to fol­low me upon the Mountains, to fall from your zealous and instructive Prin­ciples, carnally to fall in Love, and change the strong motions of the Spirit for those of the Flesh—O, Mr. Tickletext—

What will become of your poor Soul?

I've observ'd she's always extremely troubled about the Parsons Soul, 'tis a thing worthy observation.

Doctor—

What say you, Madam?

Does Mr. Tickletext drink hard think you?

No, sure Madam, not hard.

Nor Swear, nor Game, Doctor?

Neither Madam, unless it be a Game at Put now and then, for a Bowl of Lambswool.

For a Bowl of Punch rather, I fear Doctor; ay, 'tis so, I know it by the red tip of his Nose; the Parson hates Lambswool, he loves the Bowl, the Bowl, the lusty Bowl; and there alas his poor Soul will be drown'd.

His Soul again, pray observe.

Yet, what care I, I'm Mrs. of my own fate, let 'em drink, let 'em roar, let 'em sing, what is't to me I'll do the same.

Let me have Musick, and bring in Orpheus there, O, my hard fortune!

So now the Fit's almost spent, let'em come in there,

these are Lunaticks by me appointed on purpose to indulge the Humour, the one was a Young hot blooded Officer that being balk'd in a Battel, against the French in Flanders, fell mad upon't, the Woman crack'd her Brain with Pride and Malice, hearing her Lover say, another was handsomer and better dress'd at a [...]ourt Ball.

You may perceive by this, Sir Charles, the Frenzy will wear off by de­grees,—but see, here comes my Lord.

Worse and worse, ah, lack-a-day, ah, lack-a-day, O my poor Maister!

His Distemper vents it self much in scraps of Poetry, which shews it to be the more violent and dangerous.

Why so, good Doctor.

Why Sir, Poetry is a kind of Madness in it self, and must consequent­ly make a very ill addition to the Patients Distemper. I'll speak to him, what have you there, my Lord?

Treason, in black and white,—Though Cerberus bark, the Cat▪a­mountain howl, I'll conjure for her, I'll go down below into the Devils dairy, there I shall find her licking the Cream-bowls, or pressing Curds to make Beel­zebub a Cheese,—Hark, ye Patron, are you the Devil?

The Devil! not I my Lord, bless me, what a question's there.

Nor yet his Dam?

Nor his Dam neither, I'm your Doctor, my Lord.

Bring Mopsa then, I'll drown my self in Tears else,

O, worse and worse! O that chave liv'd to zee this day, odswokers, he had as notable a Pate, a Vortnight ago as e'er a one in our Shire; our Mi­nister at home was a Bottlehead toun, and now to zee the Case zo chang'd, and hear un talk zo like a Vool, odswoker che can't forbear weeping vor the heart o' me.

O prethee, Pox take thee for a Bumpkin, what a howling dost thou make; ah, my dear sweet Miss Ginger-bread, 'gad take me, I shall grow as mad as they, if I am kept here much longer

There is fery goot moralities and observations to be made in this place, look you Cousins, therefore pray you have patience.

Hast brought her? that's my Boy, ay there she is, I know her now.

She makes up to him now, the Distemper works now, they are cu­ring one another, the two mad Men rise and dance with 'em.

Art thou the Crack-brain'd Fool thou seem'st to be?

'Tis then for want of Humane Aid.

No, no.

Ay, ay.

No, no.

Ay, ay.

I'm still a Maid.

O fye, O fye!

In thought and deed, and so will die.

You are a Fool, or else you lye,—but if thou art, go to the Queen and beg me, for I must hang to Morrow for a Rape, committed upon fifteen Richmond Virgins, thirty years old and upwards, that have stood the shock of Mankind most miraculously, there's my Petition, read it and away.

By Heaven 'tis Frederick's Hand, and I find now, this is all seign'd mad­ness, and a Plot of his to bring me off, O ye dear witty Creature,

Cry ye mercy Sir, by that shaggy Eyebrow, and that

grizled Phiz, I know ye now, you are the Recorder.

Variety of Madness, he said I was the Devil just now, and now he takes me for the Recorder.

There, there's your Fee, and pray defer my Sentence, I must not come to th' Gallows, I have Money, let friendless Fellons, Fools, and Beggars dangle; I'll bribe thee well, I must not hang, I've Money.

The mad Fool speaks now methodically, Money indeed will do any thing.

What do I see, a guard to bear me off, and before Sentence, nay then have at ye, avaunt ye Slaves, ye Pultroons, scoure ye Vipers, a rescue, a rescue, fall on my Friends, down with 'em.

Ah, Plague of our heedless folly to come Arm'd amongst mad Men, there's no contending with him.

My Lord, my Lord, 'odsdeath what d'ye mean?

Mean to a mad Man, that is fery simple by St. Davy, goot her Lord have patience, Shinken was her friend and fery humble Servant look you.

My Lord, my Lord, I am the Recorder you know.

The Devil thou art, down with 'em there, a rescue, a rescue.

Am I a Devil again, nay then there's no fence against a flail, I must give way too.

Ha, ha, ha, so, if this was not well play'd, I'll n'er Act part again.

Thou art the best of Actors, and shalt be rewarded accordingly, nor shall honest Numps be forgotten neither.

Odswokers, che can make a Vool of vorty such Doctors as this is.

Your Ladyship would make an admirable Actress, faith Madam, to out-wit the Doctor so artificially—'tis a Masterpiece.

Ha, ha, ha, and before the grave Knight and young Fool's face too.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, and but reasonable Madam, what should a Fool do with so fine a Lady.

O, Sir your Complement some other time, come whilst we have this opportunity let's into my Closet, and consult about the manner of my escape.

Which is contriv'd methodically in that Letter there, by your Lover, who I hope suddenly shall be happy in his reward too.

If faithful Love, and an obedient Wife can make him happy, he may assure himself of me, I know his Merit, and have a Soul to prize it.

SCENE I.

VEL now, as you hope to be de Countess, and keep your six Foot­men and your Page, dis is all true vat you tell me.

Every syllable in troth Sir, O fye, upon my Integrity I would not tell ye a Lye for the versal World.

Ver good, vel den I will tell you the rest of your fortune, but first fesh me de Almanack, dat I may tell de good day from de bad, dat is material point.

Yes Sir, I'll bring it presently—a Countess, why, well fare thy heart old Ienny, six Footmen and a Page, odsme I'm overjoy'd.

So, I have squeez'd her as dry as a spunge already, the Heiress in this House, that Sir Charles Romance designs for his Son, only feigns her self mad, and Quickwit is by a Trick to get her away for young Frederick, ha, ha, ha, ha, I warrant he thinks himself as secure of her now, as a Cat is of a Mouse that he has between his Paw, ha, ha, ha, alas poor Fool, but if I aim right, he shall find himself damnably mistaken, for what will I do now, but privately go and discover all to Sir Charles, so get my self a swinging Reward, and Quickwit a Plaguy beating, that shall stick by him this Month, ha, ha, ha, 'gad I love such a mischief with all my heart, how it tickles me, I grow even fat at the conceit on't. O here comes my Countess, I must dispatch this old Fool first, and then away—Mum, now for fortune-telling.

Here's an Almanack and 't please ye.

O let me see, Iune, Iune, Iune, Iuly. Vere be de

Dog-day, dat he de ver good time to make de Intrigue, let me see, you say you ver born in Iuly.

The fourteenth and shall please ye.

Oh, Ver good, ver good, now shake your left Arm and your right Leg both together, vich we call in Astrology de simple motion.

Is that right, pray Sir.

Yes, yes, dat vill do ver well, dat I must needs say is de ver simple motion indeed.

But Sir, you tell me nothing all this while, pray Sir, what good for­tune shall I have? and particularly, I beseech ye Sir, to give me leave to ask that question, that we Maids most desire to know, which is, when shall I be married, and please ye?

Cry Hymen vid a sigh, one, two, tre time so, now sit cross-legg'd, and turn de Gnomon of your face, dat is your nose;

to de North East, dat's right, now smile a little, smile foolishly like, right, now let me feel your pulse; aw ver well, I see now you shall have for your Husband de ver Gentleman dat vas to steal away your Lady.

What Mr. Quickwit, and shall I be no Countess after all this.

Zoon Metresse have de patience and understand your good Fortune, he shall live to be, let me see, Baron of Barn-elms, and if de Planet, dat I see dere say right, he shall be Duke of Twitnam, Mortlack, and Brainford, go, go presently, find him out, and make de Love to him, for I see by my Art, dat dis is de Critical minute, and ver fit for your purpose—go.

Well, I vow Sir, you have ravished me with your Words Dutchess of Twitnam, Mortlack, and Brainford; why, this is prodigious, Lord to see! how preferment will puff up a body, methinks a Countess is too small a title now.

Hark you, one word more, if he refuse you, take two, tre more of your Female Friend vid good Cudgel, and beat him, vor de Star do appoint [Page 25] dat way to make soft his Heart and Inclination, fear noting, beat him but sound­ly, and he shall love you for ever after—Adieu. I must get out and laugh some­where, or I shall burst.

Dutchess of Twitnam, Mortlack, and Brainford,—O Lord, me­thinks I don't feel the ground I go on! Well, this is a most admirable Person, as I'm a Christian, and of most profound skill, for he told me some marks a­bout me, as right, as if he had been by when I was brought into the World. Well, if Cudgelling my Lover will make me noble, I'll get them that shall lay it on with a good will In troth, for methinks, I long to be call'd your Grace, your Grace. Lord, how it tickles me, pray Heaven my Brain stand firm, for I've heard these new honours are very intoxicating.

You'll be sure to be ready, Madam, against twelve at Night.

As punctual as the Minute, get you but the door open that can let us into the Garden, and for the rest let me alone.

For that, let me alone, and do'e hear, Numps, be sure you take your op­portunity to slip out and acquaint Mr. Frederick, that the Coach may be ready at the time, 'dsheart if we should fail in our business to Night, I should be poy­son'd before noon to Morrow, with Pills, Powders, and confounded Potions, which I see are preparing for me yonder: for Heavens sake, how came you to 'scape, Madam.

Why, my being obstinate at first, has made the Fool take an opinion, that he can cure me with specificks. 'Tis such a positive Coxcomb, that if he once gets a notion into his Head, there's no removing it, tho never so absurd or ridiculous. Come, Numps, come you along with me, you must carry a Letter for me.

A Letter for ye, ah, would you were to be folded up into a Letter your self, and I were to carry ye to Mr. Frederick, I'd trudge for ye heartily—I would odswokers, there's my word still.

Well, Numps, he shall know the good service you would do him, but for the present let's part, for fear the Doctor should be prying about my Lord de la Fool—your Lordships most humble—ha, ha.

Oh, my poor Maister, O, O! odswokers the job goes on rarely.

So, I think I'm in as pretty a way now to get five hundred pounds, as heart can wish, nothing but the very Devil or my Friend Cunnington can hinder the happy conclusion now, and I think I have been cunning enough to keep it out of his reach, I know the Rogue will envy my good fortune, but that will breed occasion for more mirth hereafter, and when the Guinneas are in my hand once, I shall have the better gust to rally and laugh at him—O Mrs. Marmalet, your humble Servant.

Yours, sweet Mr. Quickwit, or rather, sweet my Lord, I mean not as in the former counterfeit strain, but in very good truth and reality, I give you your title as it is to be.

Say ye so, Mrs. Marmalet, I would I were to give you a new Gown upon that condition.

Ah my Lord, your Grace must give me more than a new Gown be­fore that comes to pass,—yet it shall happen.

My Grace, what a Plague does she mean, why hark'e, godd mouldy conserve of Quinces, I thought you had been more busie in packing up your Ladies things, than to stand bant'ring here my Grace, what a Devil art thou Mad?

No, no, my Lord, I am not Mad my Lord, you should find me perfect in every part, if your Grace would please to try me.

Zoons my Grace agen.

In brief, great Duke it is your Love I seek, on which depends your fortune, on which depends, my making or my marring, behold I stand here su­ing for your liking, a spotless Maid, a Virgin Cabinet, that fifty years has kept its treasure close, from Spiders, Moths, and from all other Vermin, till now kind fate has given a key to you.

Crack'd, downright Craz'd as I live, this comes of living to be an old-Maid.

Ah, dear my Lord, do not deceive your self, I have my senses right and all things else thank Heaven.

Why, what a Plague dost Lord me at this rate then? and talk to me of Treasures, and Cabinets, and Spiders, and Moths, and making, and mar­ring; why ye Queen Elizabeth's Old Fardingale, ye dirty wrinkled worm-eaten Ruff without Starch, ye tarnish'd old fashion'd Picture of mad Hecuba in the Hangings, what dost cant of Love to me for?

Does not my Person nor my Merits move ye, know then, the Stars appoint ye honours, if you Marry me, you shall become a Duke.

Become a Dog, Pox on ye for an old Carrion, is this a time for whimsies.

It is the time my Lord, the only time, I am told by Art, that if we Marry, we shall both be Noble, I do beseech your Grace believe my Tears, there are great Honours budding.

Honours and budding, what a Devil can this plaguy Hag mean by all this?

Good my Lord, Marry me I do beseech your Grace, rolent.

I wont ye old Fool, pox take ye, I wont I tell ye, and get ye gone, and play your Oafs tricks somewhere else, or I'll kick ye. Marry her, I'd assoon Marry a Lancashire Witch, that was sick of the Plague.

How, nay then since my hard fate, since no fair means will do, the Stars must have their way.

My Grace and my Lordship, and Marry, ha, ha, ha, 'gad I believe the old Sibil has been regaling her self, with a gill or two of Brandy after Din­ner, and her frigid veins having gotten a little warmth, provoke her to think of Marriage, Marriage with a Pox to her.

Dear Sir excuse me.

Excuse ye, what a Plague's the matter now.

'Tis all for your good, indeed my Lord.

'Dsheart ye damm'd Iezabel, be quiet you had best.

'Tis much against my good nature, but

But, what, ye Devil, but what—are ye bewitch'd

The Stars will have it so.

—Oons the Stars.

Do but consent to Marry me, and be a Duke.

Ye Crackbrain'd Idiot.

Of—Twitnam.

Very well, Witch.

Mortlack.

Fiends and Furies.

And Brainford upon my Honour, 'tis pity Love puts on so rough a visage, but 'tis the fates decree; and I must,

The Devil brain ye, 'dsdeath, stand off, for if I get into ye, I will so rattle your bones, ye mouldy, mischievous, wither'd, worm-eaten—

Lost, lost, ruin'd undown, we are all betray'd and discover'd—how now, what's the matter here.

A Sibil, a Succubus. 'Gad 'tis well you came in Madam, I would have tryed what power that Witch would have, when I had drawn blood of her.

What Witch, what does he talk of, the Witchcraft is within yon­der—I tell ye, y'are all betray'd, Sir Charles has discover'd us.

A Hag, a Nightmare,—What's that you say Madam, discover'd, what's discover'd.

We, we, all of us, some Devil or other has betray'd us, and discover'd all our design to Sir Charles, and the Doctor whom I overheard just now, threat­ning such unmerciful punishments to you and poor Numps there, that it almost distracted me to hear 'em.

Ralph, Tom, and Christopher, and all the Servants of the House are call'd up for no good I fear, odswokers, look, look, see if that plaguy word will leave me now,—would I had never learn'd it.

So, I find that I have h [...] yet, only a sample of Cudgelling, the main payment is behind hand, I'm in a very pretty condition faith, but how could this be Madam, 'dsdeath, who is [...]his Devil of a discoverer, what's his name.

That, Sir Charles would not inform the Doctor, being as it seems en­joyn'd him as a secret, yet thus far told him, that it was an old Comrade of yours, and one of your own society.

Cunnington, as I live I find it now, it can be no Devil else—O, Son of a Whore! O, malicious Dog!

But how he came to know it, that's Witchcraft agen.

Ods bodiki [...]s, my heart misgives me, that I can best tell that, my Con [...]rers name was Cunnington, who promis'd me a Dukedom for the secret [...] with a hundred Oaths to keep it, and sure a Conjurer has [...] to break his Oath, I must go and be better [...] as I'm a Christian.

[...] meer jest, a Fool to all the Town and Country, [...] know, thrown into the Ho [...]sepond.

[...] some such thing, that's the [...] on't.

They do; nay, ten to one, or some worse punishment. Numps, prithee contrive something to help at a Pinch; what shall we do, hah?

Why, truly my Lord de la Fool, if I might advise your good Lordship.

Nay, nay, Pox on't, no jokes now, thou know'st 'tis honourable enough to assist Lovers, Numps.

Numps, Numps, what Numps, I'll be Numps no more not I, my Name's Gregory Golding an Ale-house-keeper here at Twitnam; 'oons, I shall have my Bones broke here about your Numps, and your honourable Lovers, would I were well out on't, 'odswokers, plague take that word too, would 'twere hang'd.

I find Numps would hardly undertake me now folded up in a Letter.

'Sdeath here they come, all contrivance is in vain too, I find I must bear it.

Nay, I am almost in as bad a Case, for I shall be tiez'd out of my Life, by Sir Charles and the young Blockhead now; but come, let's Act it to the last, my Lord, let's play our parts well however.

A vengeance on't, I shall make a hopeful part of mine I believe.

Manage you your Daughter Sir Charles, whilst I confront this Rascal. Your Servant, my noble Lord.

Is Mopsa come from the Black Stigian Fields, where yearly range the Cows of Proserpine, Tib, Whitehorn, Colly, Redrose, Smut, and Blincko; see where she sits stroking the swelling Teats, and takes Infernal Cream in Pails of Agate.

Rare counterfeiting Rascal.

How does my Daughter, do the Lovers tieze her still, where's the Reve end Mr. Tickletext, and the Worshipful Mr. Alderman Niggle, ha?

There, there he is, he shakes his Gold Chain at me, and pulls out his hair purse with fifty pieces, thinking to bribe my vertue, ah * I'll have none on't, ah * y' are an old Fellow, avaunt, avaunt, ah * ah *

Oh strange! why Doctor, she grows worse and worse.

Extremely. ill Sir, I have been very much deceiv'd in her, I see now I must be forc'd to tye her in her Bed, and give her a Purge or two of Sand and Snow-water to abate this heat,—she shall take it to Night.

The Devil shall have you first.

And as for my Lord there, I see his fit Increases too, and I must be severe with him. Go, Christopher, get the Gives and Fetters ready, and call the rest of your Fellows as I order'd, tell the Surgeon too, I'll have the Skin of my Lords Head flead off, and rubb'd with Salt and Vinegar.

Oh, Lord—

His Lordship has a wonderous hot Pate; I'll cool it with a Vengeance. You, Friend,

I think are somewhat craz'd too; but 'tis but slight. A good sound whipping three times round the Orchard will set you right, Numps.

Ah, no Numps, and't like your Worship, no Numps, I'm a poor, Twickenham Man, meerly drawn in as I hope to be sav'd.

How does your Pulse beat now, my Lord, humph—do'e know me yet; am I a Devil, or a Recorder—Speak, I know your Cure is perfect.

Why then, Faith, Doctor, I thank ye, I'm as well as ever I was in all my Life.

And I too, Odswokers—agen—would the Devil had that word—

But Fulvia there says nothing, her Distemper reigns still.

No, Faith, now I think on't, I'm perfectly cur'd too;

Come, Sir Charles, and Doctor, 'tis but a Frolick, a Trial of Wit you see; hang't, pass it by for once, and give 'em their Liberty.

Not too fast, good Madam. Within there ho,

See these two well beaten, pump'd, and toss'd in a Blanket, for fear of a Re­lapse, and then discharge 'em.

Let 'em be swing'd to purpose—go get you in, I'll speak with you anon.

Nay, nay, Sir Charles, what for a Trick of Wit? 'Twas but a Trick of Wit, Faith, Doctor.

Oh, Sir, your Wit is out of its Sphere now; and to set it right, I am obliged to cudgel ye by my Profession. Away with 'em.

This comes of Acting Numps, a Plague o'your Acting

Ha, ha, ha, Farewell my good Lord de la Fool, Ha, ha ha—

'Twas cunningly acted of the Rogues; but now, Sir Charles, what's to be done with the Lady.

Keep her close up till you hear further from me: Take heed of Visitants, and more mad Lords, Doctor; I'll go and prepare her once more for my Son, and put the Case home to her, and her Ingratitude; it may be the Disco­very of this Plot, and her small hopes of serving her own Humour, may make her yield to mine: But if she be stubborn,

SCENE II.

COme, come, 'twas but a Joke, 'twas no more, Faith. Squire Thomas seems to be a very honest Gentleman, and a Lover of Business. Pre­thee Sir Quibble come in agen, and take t'other Glass, and so forth.

A scandalous Fellow to say I was an Hermaphrodite, to make a Mon­ster, a Devil, I can't tell what of me, to disgrace me before the Ladies: But this shan't get the Heiress from me; I know his drift well enough, it shan't do I'll say't.

Come, come, prethee, come in agen.

'Pray excuse me, Sir, I promis'd my Mother to come home to Supper; and I know her heart goes a pit a pat, if I'm never so little out of her sight, for fear I should be stole or come to any harm; besides I must tell ye plainly, I don't like the Company. I'll drink a Glass here with this honest Gentleman, if you please, but I would not come in agen for a 1000 l.

Well, my Comical Friend, do you entertain the Knight then, I must go mind my Guests within: Hey, bring some Wine there—

This is one of the silly Heiress stealers, of t'other side, I'll banter the Fool.

Your Servant, Sir, by your Discourse within, Sir, I perceive that you are a great Traveller.

I have seen I tink dis Globe, I mean Europe, Asie, Africk, Americk, or so; dat is all.

That is all indeed, Sir, you must ride upon the Dogs-star, as the mad Song says, if you would see more.

Sire, I have seen much more, I have observe too de Globe Celestial; I have been so high as to hang my Hat upon one Horn of de Moon, and have toush de North-Pole vid min Finger.

With your Finger, Sir, your Servant agen, Sir: Why that's very strange I'll say't.

Sir, I have live in de Moon-world some time, de Emperour is de ver proud Monarch, and keep de subject in great awe; de people dere are like de Pigmy, de man's and woman's not half yard high, but generally wise and ver great Politicians.

Ods diggers, this is a most excellent Fellow; and pray, Sir, don't those Politicians of the Moon take us English-Politicians for mad Fellows, hah?

Yes, truly, dey do tink dat you be all mad indeed.

Prethee what Women are there? Do they dress their Heads as our Cocking Ladies do here, I wonder.

No, no, de woman's dere have no head at all, de face stand vere de Breast should, and de Mouth is de Navel.

Oh, Lord, there must be strange kissing I'll say't.

De Creation was ver wise in dat, no womans is suffer to have head dere, for fear she should plot Mischief.

Ha, ha, ha, I'll say't an admirable Reason too. But pray, Sir, now lets get down from the Moon a little; and since you have observed all the People and Cities in the World, pray, Sir, when was you last at London?

Ven de Sun came last Post from de Antipodi dis morning, dis morning.

Ha, ha, ha, very pretty agen, I'll say't: Why then, ten to one, but you have all the passages of the Town at your Finger's-ends; and, I'll say't, I long to hear 'em. Prethee what do they do at Court now, hah?

Why de come, scrape, and look ver sharp, den whisper de friend in de corner, and talk politick one half hour, den oagle Repas du Roy, and make ver low Bow, den comb de Peruke, take Snuff, and scrape out agen; dat is all.

Ha, ha, ha—that's very like a Courtier I'll say't▪ Come, come, now for the City, what are our Men of Gravity doing?

Why fait dey follow still dere old Custom—dat is, contrive to sheate one anoder; dey dat have no stock for Trade, make use of de stock of Impu­dence, and sign Policy to lay Wager, so make four, five sheating Bargain over night, and ver fairly break, and run away next morning.

Well said agen i' [...]ackins; 'gad this is a plaguy sharp Fellow: But come now, for our Places of Diversion; Prethee how go Humours at the Musick-Meeting and Play-house?

As for de humour amongst all de rest, I only observe tre sort, dat is, de [...] [...] Coquet, and de F [...]dler: de Beau dere make de fine Song, [...]o shew his [...] s [...] she admire de Beau, but laugh behind his back; de Fidler [...] [...]usick, take de Money, and begar laugh at dem both.

Ha, ha, ha,—Well I'll say't I'll give my Mother the slip some time or other, and go and see the Humours there I'm resolv'd; but come now, for the Play-house.

Noting, noting; dere is noting dere pour Railery, but de Whore and de Critick, and two tre dozen of old musty Orange-Wench dat ride upon your Back while de Musiick play.

Odsdiggers, so they us'd to serve me, I'll say't: Well, but hark'e now, let's be a little serious;—I must know one thing more; heark'e, Do you ever go to Church—pray Friend?

Umph, Church!

Ay, ay, Do's Devotion thrive?—I know you must observe some­thing of that too.

No fait, dere you pose me; for to speak truth, like good Christian, I have not see de inside of one Shurch dis—sixteen year, and begar I find de Town ver mush of my humour; de People and de Priest make de grand difference; he can say ver little or noting dat dey believe, and dey, Begar, vill do noting vat he advise; so I never trouble de Shurch at all.

I'll say't, an Admirable Persontoo! Well, dear Signior, you have so much oblig'd me, that if you please to come to my House, you shall find every day a Welcome that—

Why Cunnington, Cunnington, what a Devil art

thou doing?

Is your Name Cunnington, Sir?

Yes 'saith, Sir; But I know I shall be welcome to your House for all that Hah, ha, ha.

Hah, ha, ha,! What has the Hermaphrodite been banter'd agen? Ha, ha, ha.

'Slid there's some Trick in this; Odsdiggers, come near my house, and I'll set my Dogs at ye: A Plague, here comes more of 'em; I shall be laugh'd to Death if I stay. I'll say, 'oons Cunnington, I should bave been robb'd or ravish'd in a weeks time.

You came a little too soon; for I was just going to pump him about the Heiress.

Phoo, Pox she's secure enough Boy, but I have some fresh play in my head; now Stockjob's Wife, ye Rogue.

Here she comes, 'gad take me I'll give her my Billet deux presently.

Oh horrid! Cousin, why d'e bring me into all this Company, espe­cially where that Fellow is, for I am certainly inform'd, 'twas that horrid Fel­low that writ the last Lampoon upon the Wells.

Have de patience Cousin, me shall find out dat presently, hark'e Sir, you damm English Pultroon, dare you abuse de Lady, dare you make de damm Lampoon ha?

Not I Madam, you are the most mistaken in the World.

Not that I value the little malice, but to see the bestiality of the Fel­low; I kept my self so reserv'd, Cousin, all this Summer to avoid censure, that I refus'd to receive visits from any Man under the Age of sixty nine, nor ever went any whither but to Church, and if they did not Lampoon me for that too, I'm no Christian.

I must get the Rogue off,—'Gad take me, Madam, I have

such a value for your Wit and Beauty, that upon my Ho­nour, I would not deceive you in any thing, and I assure you he is innocent of the matter, therefore let me desire you to turn the discourse, I'll inform you more hereafter.

Ah Monsieur, 'tis impossible for me to doubt a Person of such me­rit, and so well accomplish'd as your self. Cousin, I am

inform, by dis Gentleman, dat we are under de grand mistake.

She inform'd by that Puppy, then they 're familiar I find.

Sir, I beg your pardon vid all mine heart, I understand you are de ver ingenious Person, and understand de Ladies affair.

Nay, I can't positively affirm he was the Person I confess; I only grounded my suspicion the more solidly, because of his Satyrical Phiz; O hor­rid! methinks his Face is a meer Lampoon it self.

Come, come, slapdash, and so forth, let's reconcile all mistakes with a Glass of Wine and a Song, I've a Bowl of Punch ready within too.

There spoke the Soul of the City and so forth, That was done now like a Man of intrigue.

My dear, dear Charmer, 'gad take me I've had a passion for ye above this six Months, and if you don't answer my Billet deux there, I shall dye that's certain.

Dis is de ver agreable Fellow, but I must show de cunning, and not yield too soon,

—O, fye, fye, Monsieur, I am sure you mistake me I am not de Person, 'tis impossible dat I—

Not the Person, by this dear hand, there's no Person in the World but you, has the power to charm my heart, your Eyes have made me a very.—

A very fop, Rascal, Dogbolt,—come, draw, draw, Buffoon, I'll teach you to be sawcy with Women in my Company.

Hey, slapdash, what a Plague's the matter now? keep the Peace there, hey day, is the Devil in ye all, and so forth.

SCENE III.

Death, and Consusion, Cunnington, discover the Plot: Why how was it possible he should come to know it?

Nay that piece of Witchcraft I am yet to Conjure for, but I can assure you the beating was substantial, and so had the Blanket been too, if some of Sir Quibbles Gold, had not bribed off two of the Grooms: but come Si [...], take Heart, for though my Brains have taken occasion hitherto to disoblige my Bones a little; I have another Plot left yet, not only to make my revenge perfect upon Cunnington not; but to secure you the Lady, for since I have undertaken it, you shall have her, though the great De­vil, and all his little Imps conspired against me.

Pox, what vexes me most is, 'tis grown the Common Town talk already, they have it at the Coffee-house as familiar as the [...].

Prethee how didst do to Act the Madman? Ile say't, I'd have given a hundred Guineas to have seen thee a little; Prethee how didst look? and what didst say, I wonder? and when did the Lady come in with her Story? and which way, and upon what accompt? and where­fore?

And wherefore good Sir come away quickly, and fetch the Guineas you promis'd, for I shall have occasion for a Bribe or too, to carryon the Affair: Farwell Sir, I see Company coming, stay.

Hah, am I fallen into this Satyrical Devils Clutches too, then I'm like to have a rare Breathing, for I perceive by that malicious Smile with which she mocks her self, that she has heard of this late business; and is as pleas'd I warrant, as prosperous Malice can make a Woman, when she has an opportunity of being reveng'd: Well, I am resolv'd to stand the brunt now, come what will on' [...], I see she's prepar'd for the Assault, and to beat her out of her Guard, Ile begin first. What always reading, Madam, still affronting Mankind, by Invading their Province of

Knowledge, [...]ye, this is unnatural; a Lady should no more pretend to a Book, than a Sword, neither of 'em are proper for het Sphere of Activity.

This, only excepted Sir, this is a Treatise proper for all degrees of People, 'tis call'd, Sir, an Hospital for Fools, where the most dislempe [...]'d of that sort shall be Cu [...]'d, or at least put into a good way. What think ye Sir, shall I send it ye, you may chance to have some apish humour in your Brain, or some foolish act in your Body, that may want a good re­medy.

Oh I thank ye, Madam, but must beg your Excuse, to take a Re­cipe from a Female Physi [...]ian, to cure a defect in the Brain, that's a good one Faith: Why that's the way to make a Man stark Mad indeed: And as for my Body, I had as lieve take an old Purblind Country Nurse, if I had a mortal Bruise, or Palsie, and I were certain to have the scandal of a Crip­ple upon me all the days of my life after.

I don't know what you mean by your Bruise, or Palsie; but con­sidering your general distemper of Body, ' [...]would be a greater scandal to the Nurse, to take ye in hand.

Very fine, well certainly there is not another so vain a thing in Na­ture, as a Woman that supposes her self a Wit; she fancies all the World must truckle to her Wit, and admire her Person, and Wit; tho the Wit's as Envious as a Witch, and often as Ugly.

That might be a fault indeed in the last Age; but in this I never met with any of your Town Crew, that have Wit enough to cause Envy.

If there's any one, Fool enough to Love her, she'll make him a meer Changling, and like a little sullen Chit, of five years old, deny her­self the Morsel she Loves; only to Teize and Vex another, when at the same time her mouth waters, and she's ready to starve for Hunger; this I think touches your Ladyships Copy-hold a little; but much good may't do ye with your sullen fit, I know you'l get a Husband, and a vast for­tune by't.

Well Sir, not to be behind hand with ye, in your Frumps, much goood may do you with your Rich Heriess, you'l get a Wife, and a pro­digious fortune by her, I hear too.

Ah Curse on her, I find she knows all.

For m [...] part, it were unreasonable for me, to expect you to be con­stant to my s [...]all merit, when you had such a tempting Lump as Fifty thou­sand Pounds to cherish your hopes withal; Fifty thousand Pounds, d'slife, there's ne're a Beau from Covent-Garden Church to the Tower of London, but shall give his little Corps to the Devil, every hour of the Day for't.

Nor ne're a Lady that frequents the Park, Play-House, or the Mu­sick-meeting; but shall marry a thing one degree remov'd from a Baboon for half as much.

By which I find Sir, you are not out of hopes, I dare swear you think your self above one degree remov'd, tho your last Mad Plot upon the Heiress has given the world some strange suspitions to the Contrary: on m [...] Conscience you'l return to me again Sir, you'l have some qualm or other come over ye shortly▪ then yet drunk, and with a kind of maudlin Repentance, come to beg my pardon,

So far from it, that I rather fear I shall have ye at my Lev [...]e every morning shortly, with a pittiful Petition, imploring my Charity, to be­s [...]ow on [...]e the remains of Matrimony.

The remains, Sir, I have Arithmetick enough to know, that take nothing from nothing, and there remains nothing: Besides a Married Town [Page 31] Bea [...] keeps always a Misers Table, there is so little for his own Family, that he'l never get thanks, or a blessing from any one that shall expect his remains, take that from me Sir.

Very well Madam, rally on, rally on, and enjoy your Wit. You have my free leave, whilst I Enjoy Fulvia, and fifty thousand Pounds, and so farewell; and, d'sdeath, such another full thrust and I were gone to all Intents and Purposes.

Scene 1st.

COme, Come Cousin, you must give me leave to tell ye, I understand an Intreague as well as an older Person, to let a young Hectorly Fellow, shew he ha so much command over ye, as to dare to quarrel, and expose ye in Company. Oh filthy, it shews a famili­arity too sawcy for Civil Conversation; I hope Cousin you have not been particular with the Fellow.

Vat you mean by dat Cousin, vat is particular.

Oh horrid, I hope you wont put me to the Fatigue of a Blush, by telling the Nauseous meaning, that were to deserve to be Lam­poon'd indeed; when a Man is particular with a Woman, I think there is no great nead of a Sophister to explain the meaning.

Vel, Vel, Pox take the particular, dat is all one, I assure you I have don vid him now, and vill encourage that fine young Gentleman, dat talk and [...]ow, and rally so vel en Francois; me no endure de Huff de Bounce, de brutal way of Love no longer. Dear Monsieur Romance, is all French, all Talk, all Air, all Gallantry, and de oder Gentleman dat speak de Welch is ver fine person too, who I presume Cousin has de extream inclination to have de Intreague vid you.

An Intreague with me, Oh filthy Fellow, that's a worser abuse than any has been yet put upon me, for he's the veriest Fop in Nature.

Fop, Oh Mon deu! vat and worth twenty thousand Pounds, dats impossible! Oh, he is de ver fine Person, and has the greatest tender for you Cousin.

Oh fogh, I shall be Lampoon'd about him in a Weeks time, ile lay my Life on't: Oh horrid, ile go and l [...]k my self up; But are you sure he's worth twenty thousand Pounds Cousin.

Assurement▪ [...]nd vill make good settlement, vich is ver much as times go.

See here dey come vid Monsieur Stockjobb, who I have wheedle so, and make such great Fool, that he vill believe nothing against me vich my oder cast of Coxcomb say.

Come, Come, Let's have no brawling nor quarrelling, but sit down lovingly together, and help off with the Bowl, and so forth; what Pogry, [Page 33] my Dear, my Fawn, my Pricket,—and my Cousin Siss [...] too; Hey, sla [...] ­dash, we'll all sit down too't Faith.

—Vat you please Dicky, ven de Husband Command de Wi [...]e must alway be Obedient, dat is but Reason.

Ah subtle Witch.

—Come Squire Thomas, and my Welsh Friend, Pray sit round▪ Here's some Honest Friends of mine will give us a Catch in three Parts▪ Cousin Sisse, Prithee sit down, and so forth.

Oh horrid! Cousin, would you have me give such occasion to be Lampoon'd, as to sit drinking filthy Brandy amongst Men?

Filthy Brandy; Twelve Shillings a Gallon, by this Hand, and will certainly be the best Commodity in the whole Kingdom shortly,—Harkee, Sisse, such another Word, and if there be a Lampoon to be got in Christen­dom, and so forth, I'll get one for thee.

According to Shinkins Observations, this is not Prandy, look you, but Punch, which is fery goot to raise Ploods, and cause Plushes▪ and Pewtys in fair Ladies, look you, therefore pray you sit down, I pray you now.

Nay, Pray Sir,—Oh Lord,—Nay, if you will force me, What shall I do? I am so ashamed, well if I do, I'll swear I'll drink in my own Cup then,—Go, Ponade, and fetch it, it holds three quarters of a Spoonful just.

Dear Madam, Let me be happy with your sweet Hand

You,— [...],

Vat aile de Ruffian,—

—Monsieur, I am your most devoted.

His most devoted, Oh rare Jilt, dee fleer Dog bold, I shall have your Nose anon.

Come, Come, Slap-dash, No more grumbling Will, but take your Cup, and then let's have the Catch, and so forth.

Why, Cousin Sisse, What hast got there, an Acorn Cup? why a Flea may drink off that, prethee take one of ours, and so forth.

Oh horrid, not for the World, the quantity of this is enough to suffocate my Spirits, as I am a Virgin.

By the Lord Mayor, very well perform'd Boys, Tholl, Loll, Loll, a [...] dickins take it, it won't do now, yet I could have Sung my Sol, Fa, when I was a Batchelour purely Faith,—but these Wives, these Wives▪ spoil all our Parts; Come, Here's Prosperity to the City and Trade.

And as I was saying Madam.

And as I was saying before Madam.

Sir, I have nothing to say to you, you are strangely troublesom,

[Page 34] Dat last agen, I beseech you Monsieur.

Who leaves his Place there, Will. Hotspur, What a Plague dost stand brooding upon my Wi [...]e there for, prithee come and take thy Cup, and let the Squire alone, he has business with her, and so forth.

Business with her, Here's a damn'd Cuckoldly Son of a Whore, and so forth.

When her is in Wales, look you, her could drink very goot Metheglins with her Cousin Cadwallader, at the Three Red Herrings and C [...]een Leeks in Mo [...]mouth; but now since her saw you, her Heart has done nothing but thump, thump, and then her does sigh so sadly, Hey hoh,

so that if her is obdurates and cruels, and will not love Shinkin, why then, alas, there is now way for her, look you, but Hey ho!

Love, Oh horrid! the very word is enough to fright me into an Apople [...]y, would he would marry me, tho—as I'm a Virgin.

By this Hand, I believe I could make Monsieur lay forty Wager, and buy Stock every hour, if it were not for dat rude Fellow dat come and disturb us.

Sayst thou so, Slapdash, Gad if I had known that, he should have found this way to the Door before now, an uncivil Person to come to a Ci­tizens Table and be well entertain'd, and yet ungratefully endeavour to hin­der Business,—An idle Scoundrel, to stop the Sourse, the Life-blood of the City, Trade,—Gad I'll complain to my Lord Mayor immediately.

Now has that French Devil told some Lye or other of me, I'll lay my Life, Harkee Di [...]k, art thou so very blind, as not to see thy self abused.

Yes, Yes, Sir, I do see my self abused,—and so forth,—Sq [...]ire Thomas, prithee come hither, Lookee, Pogry has inform'd me, ye are a very ingenious Person, and love Business, Lookee, what she does I'll stand to, therefore pray go and Discourse her, she's at your Service.

Oh Witall Coxcomb, what does he mean.

Pray, Sir, no interruption.

'Dsdeath, to say publickly thy Wife's at his Service.

Upon the Score of Trade Sir, and so forth, I know what I do, I warrant you.

The Devils grin at me, I have no Patience, Scoundrel, hands off.

Slapdash, hold her [...]ast Squire Thomas, I give my Authority, why this is a breach both of our Charter and Customs; that a Citizen of London shan't have the Priviledge to dispose of his own Wife, for a Hectorly Fellow of t'other end of Town; Gad I'll complain to my Lord Mayor, the first thing I do.

To take the Wife from the Husband, before his Face, is more than you can justifie, Williams, that is very true.

Thou art a [...]ery Ass, Pox on thee for a crack'd Welch Harp, Hold your jarring, or—

No, No, I'll take a Course for this hereafter; In the mean time Pe­gry, since this rude Masterless Companion disturbs us here, my Chamber with­in is private, there you may settle Affairs, and so forth; Go, go in with her Squire Thomas, and because no body shall disturb ye, I'll lock ye up d [...] see, and keep the Key my self.

'Dsheart, I shall run mad, why dolt, Madman, wilt thou lock her up with him too.

Upon the Score of Trade, and so forth, I'll show for once the Hus­bands Priviledge, without your leave Sir▪

Trade, Ay there is a rare Trade going forward; Oh intollerable Cuckold!

Come Sir, you are a Scandalous t▪other end of Town Fellow, and my Lord Mayor shall know it; you shall know that a Citizen of London un­derstands what's proper for Business: Cousin Sisse, take you your Gentleman into another Room; nay, nay, no Squeamish trick now, but go, since ye are molested here, I will have Business go forward in a place that's proper.—Go, go you after Sir, I'll be with ye anon.

Ay, ay, There's the Trade going forward too, this is Stockjobbing with a Vengeance.

Pogry will draw her Fool into some devise or other, I am sure, and now I have finished this Affair so discreetly, I'll leave this Hector to chew the Cud by himself, and go and drink a Dish of Coffee with a good Neighbour, a Common Council-man, and Brother Stockjobber.

A Curse on your City Understanding, and Destruction seize that Jilt, that tortures me with Love, tho I resolve to hate her,—damn'd infa­mous Creature, that Yesterday, as common as a Hireling, would have met my Appetite half way, and cherish'd it, now taken with a young pert noisie Coxcomb, deserts me without Blushing; but this senseless Wittall, her Hus­band, shall know, what a Snake he Fosters, before I have done with him.

So, I think there's none of the Quaking Fraternity but will own I have mimick'd their Dress well, and play but thy part right Child, that we may revenge our selves upon this Cunning [...]on that has so abused us, and th [...] I may chance to be no Duke, I'll be a King to thee in my good will, my Love Child shall be beyond all Titles and Preferment.

Ah sweet Mr. Quickwit, the Rascal has asked my Pardon since, but I shall never forgive him for it; for, will you believe me, I have cryed about that Business till I have been as wet as if I had been dipp'd in a Pail of Water, to think that I should lift up my Hand against—

Well, well, 'tis all forgot.

To dare Cudgel the Man that—

Well, well, 'twas all Accident, prethee no Tears.

The Man I love so tenderly—

Enough, prithee enough,—I believe thee.

So tenderly, so very tenderly—

A Pox o'your Tenderness, There is no Plague under Heaven so tor­menting as one of these old Cats, when she pretends to make Love; come, prithee no more of this Foolery Child, but let us go on with our Plot upon Cunnington; Let me see what's the Quakers Name that I'm to Act.

Zechiel, And't please ye Sir, my old Lord Fullworths Steward, my Mistresses Father.

Zechiel, very good, and one that you say has been trusted with all the Writings of her Estate.

He has indeed, at whose House, Sir Charles (having found her as he thinks a little more pliant to his Sons Address) intends to meet her this Af­ternoon, to discourse about the Marriage, and to that purpose has given that Letter you have there to Cunnington to show the Doctor, who upon sight of it is to deliver my Lady to him, and a Note for fifty Guineas, which Sir Charles has ordered him.

Then you are sure Cunningman has seen this Letter.

Yes, An't please ye, and is merry beyond measure about his success of out witting you, he left it with me only whilst he is gone to disguise himself like a Quaker, for in no other Habit will Zechiel admit any one into his House, I expect him every Minute.

Ay, ay Child, Let him come now as soon as he pleases, we are pre­pared for him; and I think I am as much a Quaker as himself, or the Devil's in Iron Gray, the rest remains in thee to follow my Instructions, do but this Business neatly, and as for the other Business, thou worst of.

Ah Dear Sir, I swear you bring my Heart up to my very Mouth, I vow you do now, and I warrant ye Sir, for my part I▪ve my Cue perfectly.

First then, instead of this Letter of Sir Charles, give him this of mine Child, to carry to the Doctor, 'tis sealed with a Wafer like it, and the Hand is Counterfeited, I'm sure, so exactly, 'tis impossible for him to discover that, then for the Contents let them operate at leisure.

With all my Heart Sir, and I rejoice from my very Soul that I can do any thing to pleasure you, and be revenged of him; Hark, here he comes; away Sir to your Close [...], and when we go, be pleased to follow us, and you shall find me punctual to the least particular.

Do it but Cunningly, and if thou art a Maid by to Morrow Night, why then say,—

Ah sweet Sir, I understand ye to a Scruple, and Heaven bless ye; well I swear,—now my Hearts at my Mouth agen.

Hah, hah ha ha. I have been laughing at my self above this half hour, to see what a Figure I am; I have been Agent in a great many In­treagues in my life time, but never had any yet like this; this is a Master­piece, a piece of Wit like Hains; for here have I insinuated my self so far into this grave Fool, Sr. Charles, by my subtle discovery of the late Affair; that he has trusted me in this Habit, to prepare the Old Quaker about the Writings, and aferwards to bring the Heiress her self to him—to him! Ha ha ha ha, there's the Jest now; and to receive as a Reward fifty Guinea's, ha ha ha! Alas poor shallow Knight! little does he think what's hatch­ing in this Brain of mine: for, what will I do now? but instead of carrying her to him, keep her my self, and make her Marry me, or Compound swingeing­ly, which is all one; there's Wit now! ha ha ha, there's Mischief! Gad I love Mischief dearly: And when I have had her three or four Nights, let her hang me afterwards if she can, or any one else for me.

Come Sir, are ye ready? the Doctor's just gone home,—bless me, to see how Clothes will disguise one! Why? you look like a meer Ananias.

Ha, ha, ha, don't I? Methinks I am filled with the out-goings of the over-flowing [...], of the Bowel-yernings, and for the humh, and hah!

Let me alone. Come give me the Letter, and be assur'd, tho' I Jok'd a litte the last time, yet I'le not fail to bring a better Business about, e're long for thee.

Well, well Sir; go and dispatch your own first.

An Heiress, and fifty thousand Pounds! Gad I'm a lucky Dog, ha, ha, ha.

Here's a rare Rogue for ye; had not I discovered the Plott, he had betrayed his Trust, and got the Heiress for himself; but as things go, will miss of his aim damnably: Now for my Quaking Faculty I must make one amongst 'em.

SCENE 2.

And 't please ye, some new Lunaticks last Night brought hither.

Prithee what are they.

A spindle-legg'd French Taylor; That ever since the VVars, being at a loss how to get New Fashions for his whimsical Customers, Fatigu'd his Brain so much, that he grew craz'd upon it.

VVhat, others?

A superannated Maid of threescore and three; who being promised Marriage by a young Fellow of one and twenty, at the very Conceipt on't ran Mad for Joy.

Ala [...] for her well who else?

A Covent-Garden Beau, who being obliged to make a Song upon his Mistresses Paraquite, and sitting up three Days and three Nights, not being able to produce one tolerable Thought at the Conceipt of losing her Favour, lost the small remainder of his own Senses.

So, what more?

A kept Miss, who being discarded by her resenting Lord, fell di­stracted, not for the loss of my Lord, but for her five pound a VVeek.

Go on.—

A Vintner whom his Customers had poisonned with making him taste his own VVine—besides a Quaker who is now coming▪ in here with my Master, of whom he'll give a better account himself.

I hope Dr. you need no further satisfaction in the truth of my Com­mission; be pleas'd therefore to let the Lady get ready with all possible speed, and the Note too for the fifty Guinea's; I shall have present occasion for

Very well, Sir, I understand ye—Christopher—

Christopher! what has Christopher to do in the Business? This is a strange, Old Formal Coxcomb: He cannot blow his Nose without his Man—Doctor, I must desire you to be as speedy as you can; for I've another part to act, as you may perceive by my Habit: And what a Character Sir Charles gives me, I suppose you find in the Letter.

Yes, Sir; yes; he has given ye a notable Character: here indeed▪ Christopher, go presently, and bid the Barber come hither to shave his Head.

Your Servant Doctor; no Faith; that will be a Courtesy a little unseasonnable at present, by reason of my haste.

Alas, Poor Fellow! yet stay a little Christopher, where is his Master? Let him be call'd in First.

My Master—

He is at the door an't please you; I'le go and fetch him; alas! I'le run Ten Miles on my bare Feet, to do the poor fellow any good.

Hey day! is she bewitched too? what a Plague do they mean? come, come Doctor, the Note quickly; and Madam Pray dispatch, I've a world of business to do, before Night yet.

'Dslife! this is the most comical fellow, I ever saw.

Oh! the dellirium is very strong upon him; d'e hear Christopher? bid your fellows make haste to strip him, and get ready the Canvass Shape, that he may have nothing to tear; and a pair of the strongest Fetters for his Leggs; [Page 43] d'e hear? For Sir Charles informs me here, he is by fits very outragious.

Fits, and outragious? the Devil's in 'em all, sure: I know what's in the Letter well enough—come, come, this is no time for Jokes; Sir Charles will be impatient till the Lady comes, ye trifle, ye trifle, 'dsdeath! I should have bin with him by this time.

This is a very Rogue, but Ile manage him presently.

Here's like to be good sport if it holds.

The Letter says too, he will be very Mischievous towards the Change o'th' Moon, which is this Evening, but that's no great matter, I can disable him from that by a good Whipping: He shall have 300 lashes upon the Belly▪

The Devil, I shall,—'dsheart how I tremble—nay, nay, if you pur­sue the Banter, and intend to affront Sir Charles, there's no more to be said, I must Inform him, and there's an end on't; But that Letter to my knowledge says otherwise: I'm sure I read it this Morning, the most sweet, Civil Complement­al thing on my side that ever was penn'd.

No doubt on't, Sir, no doubt on't: Can you read?

Read; Ha, ha, ha! what a Pox does he take me for one of the Black-guard? This Coxcombly Doctor's craz'd himself, Ile be hang'd else—read! yes, yes, you shall find I can read,

Proceed then.

Doctor, 'tis proper that I let you know, I have made another discovery of a Plott, to carry off the Lady you have in Custody. This Rogue, that I send here with this Letter.

Go on, Sir, go on: I perceive you can read admirab­ly, (being one of the Principal Contrivers,—this is VVitchcraft. [...] believe my own Eyes.

Really as you say, Doctor; for a Crazed Person, the Man reads to a miracle.

VVhat Craz'd Person, Madam? 'dsdeath! I shall run Mad indeed▪ if this trade hold.

Come Sir, to the next Paragraph.

He was formerly a Sharper, and whither he be mad or no; I desire you to use him as such, for he's one of the greatest Ras­calls in the whole VVorld,—as his Master will better inform thee:— [...] my Mr. agen.

Sir Charles gives ye a notable Character, you see Sir.

'Dsheart Doctor! 'tis all Villany, Witchcraft, Cunjuration; I'm abus'd.

The Fetters quickly, Christopher, he begins to [...]ave, oh! here's his Master.

Death, and Hell! what Son of a Whore's this—I'm at my Witts end.

Come Friend, you must inform the Nature of his Madness, that I may Minister accordingly.

Plainly, since that ungodly season, that I first perceived that the Spi­rit of truth was departed from him, I relinquish'd him, often seriously ponder­ing upon his State of Reprobation, which plainly I find is worthy be Comiser­ted by all the Brethren and Sisters of the faithful.

Oh! Rogue, I know him now,—Doctor y'are abus'd, Imposed [Page 44] upon, trick'd, this is no more a Quaker then I am. This is an Arch Cheat this is—

Aw Satan, Satan! great, great, is thy power.

He Raves again, take hold of him, and stop his mouth there.

The Tempter is very powerful in him, he turneth and windeth him▪ which way he listeth, he goeth into his mouth like a Ratt, with a great Head and a long Tayle, and exalteth his voice within, in Curses and Exclamations hum! give me the Engine Woman with which we used to resist the Tempter.

Here 'tis an't please ye; put this into his mouth—and Satan can have no Power.

Plainly, I have bin informed he hath bin trained up in the School of Sin vulgarly called the Play House, where the Devil Adorneth himself with toyes and trappings, where the Ears are misinformed and the Eyes misled, where the frail Son of Man caresieth the Woman inordinately, where he tempteth her to Midnight Gluttony; and whispereth into her unhallowed things.

My Heart is ready to leap out to thee for Joy, for he do's it so Na­turally 'tis impossible he should be discovered,—how the Fool the Doctor looks too?

Moreover, observe, how outragiously the old Draggon teareth him.

Ay, ay, tis time to begin,—away with him, and give him the Lashes I ordered.

Plainly it behooveth thee Well, that the Spirit of Truth may once more return; and the old Man be rooted out,—now Rogue I think I'm even with thee——

Aw—Satan, Satan, great is thy Power.

But now, to the remaining part of my Charge, I am to Conduct a Woman from hence, a sinful Woman as it appeareth to me, who causeth with her transitory Wealth and Beauty, strange Appetites, Boylings and Ferment­ings in the Heart of Man.

Well Friend, no more enlarging upon that Subject; here is Sir Charles's Order in this Letter, who it seems is at a Garden-House here hard by; there­fore Madam—you had best make haste; you need no disguise but your Masque, for he says there is a private back way to't which this honest Man has only knowledge of.

Plainly, thou sayest it.

Was there ever so admirable a Fellow? I'm scarce able to contain my self from laughing out.

Come, young VVoman, and let thy steps be guided soberly▪ Give me thy Carnal hand; hah! verily it is exceeding white, and hath an alluringness in the Palm thereof, which is, as it were, provoking: Hah! this is it now, which stroaketh the Forehead of Transgression till it become Masterless▪ and girdeth us into the Labyrinth of Misconstruction, from whence we seldom or never come forth our selves.

What an odd sort of a Canting Rascall's this? and what a do's here with one Woman that has Mony? gad I've a Daughter of my own at home has sat pricking upon a clout at home this Seven Years, and no one has come to [Page 45] her, but an Attorny's Clark, and City Groser; when this here is beset with all degrees, Ages and Religions—well, 'twill be always so; and where the Honny is, there will the Gnatts, Hyes, and Insects be buzzing together,—Christo­pher—my Cloak,—I'le take a little Air, and then see how—the Wedding goes forward.

SCENE 3.

Gad take me, this was the most Comical adventure that ever the City was famous for, to lock us up with his Wife, and Neice upon the score of Trade: why? 'tis an Action ought to be known to Posterity and worthy to be Chronicled in the City Annalls.

Her Cousin Siss, was fery familliar too when her was alone; there was no pish, nor fye, nor pray be quiet, look you—only some little frowns and repukes, put fery kind looks for all that St. Davy.

If I had not bin obliged to meet my Father here, I would not have left my little French woman this two hours, but he is so hot upon't to make me Marry this Heiresse, that he spoyles my humour of Intreaguing quite, gad take me.

Pray you see, where he comes yonder with the Lady that they call the crete Witt of Richmond, she that talks, and discourses, and Jeeres, and laughs, and makes Fools of all the Town by Cadwallader.

By this Light, she's a rare Creature: 'dsheart I'm in Love with her up to the Ears already; why? she's finer than my little French Woman by half: ay Gad or my Lords Daughter either, or my Wife that is to be; or my Knights Lady at Cue; or Jenny in Lumbard Street; or my Widdows Daugh­ter; or my Semstress, my Chambermaid or any of 'em: I'll write her a Bilet deux immediately, Gad take me.

Hey Gadsplutt! her will have more Women than the crete Turk has at this Rate, look you.

Yonder's my Son, Madam; and I am very glad to find you so well dispos'd, to the Marriage between him and your Kinswoman; for tho she has lately entertain'd some volatile Humours, which Youth may very well Excuse▪ Yet the Principall Verbs, her Wit and Vertue, so far counterpoise that.

Her Estate you mean, Sir Charles does so far Counterpoise that—

That the Candor of my Nature obliges me to dislike all other offers for him that are not possessed with her—

With her—Land and Houses.

Good Qualities, Madam, having bin since my Noble Lords Death, her Father, a true honourer of her for her Extraction, merit and—

And Money; is not that a Principall Verb too, Sir Charles?

A delicate Rogue; what an Air and Shape she has? Cousin, Rise prithee turn about a little.

Money, Madam! What the dirty Slave of our Conveniency? She has hit it to a hair, gad for all that;

can any Morall Man [...] has his Reason, build his Content on such a Trifle.

Oh Sir, take this from me, since the Golden Age, the World has lost those Moral Men you speak of: Money is now the Soul o'th Universe: The [Page 46] States-man, Commoner, and Country-man, Phisitian, Lawyer, Cittizen, Priest, greedily dam their own for't every day; the man that's Rich must be accomplish­ed too, his Apish Tricks are Gentleman like Carriage, his silly speeches called re­find and Witty, if he be Prodigal they stile him generous, if Covetous, a close, wise wary fellow, if he detracts or Lyes, he's a fine Courtier, if Blasphemous, a Witt, if finnical a Beau, if drunk, he's then a merry Jolly Fellow, or if unmanly Lewd, a Rare Companion.

Ah that dear Sweet little Honey prating Tongue,—would I had it a little here, and if a stranger may have priviledge to affirm his passion; very good, gad take me.

I pray you now Cousins make haste, for her has an Intreague too, look you, her has promised to meet her Cousin Siss, at seven Precisely.

If Mony has these flourishing attributes Madam, what then must ver­tue have the chiefest good.

Faith, just, quite contrary, for vertue Sir is generally poor, and Poverty can give no Bribe for Praise, the virtuous Man that's poor, must be a Fool, a wretched sort of an uncurrant Coyn, that few or none will deal with; Tho he be wise, his best opinion is thought ignorance, his talk rediculous, his Person hated, he still fares worst, yet pays the dearest for it; has he a cause at Law? it shall be lost, has he a Claim in Love? he shall be Jilted, his Ingenuity is worse than Witch­craft, and every venial Error past forgiveness.

And if I Love ye not better than both my Eyes, may I be poysoned like a Ratt at your Chamber door and be accompted the verriest Son of Whore in the World, instead of your most passionatly de­voted most humble, and most obsequious Slave, Thomas Romance▪ gad take me, there I came off like an Angel.

What a Devil is he making mouths at yonder, how now Tom what are you doing there?

'D [...]life if he sees it I'm ruined; nothing Sr. I'm only casting up a Taylors Bill a little, that the Rogue mayn't cheat me.

A Taylor's Bill, prithee leave of those trifles and prepare to enter­tain your Mistress whom I expect here instantly▪ with all you ought to thank this Lady too, her kinswoman, who gives ye her good liking.

Her good liking, gad, would I had it upon her own score; now what would I give that it were sealed? this were A Rare time to clap it into her hand.——

That he has Sir. Charles, he may assure himself, or any one else so that Traitor Frederick be disappointed,—let me but frustrate his design and let the rest fall ou't, as fortune pleases.

Sir Charles here? they have dispatched their business very quickly I see.

Oh Doctor! welcome; y'are come in Admirable time, but where's my Daughter?

I hope she's not far of Sir, you are a better guardian than to trust her in ill hands.

Therefore, I recommended her to yours—where, where, is she?

Ha, ha, ha, this is fine merriment, why Sir? I desire to know, and whe­ther she seems pleased since I sent—her to ye?

Sent her to me! 'dsdeath, what do's he mean.

Nay, what do you mean then? sye, sye, Sir Charles; am I a subject fit to make a Jest on?

Thou makest me Mad, to hear thy Ridling; I sent for her by Cunnington, dressed like a Quaker, who was to bring her to Old Zechiell, her Fathers Steward, where we have waited long, but no one came.

Why Sir? I gave her to that Quaker, and obeyed the orders in your Letter here, for Punishing the Impostor, that had contrived to Steal her.

Impostor, what Impostor? here's some Trick by Heaven.

Read, Read the Letter, oh Confusion! how my Heart beats?

Trick'd, Ruin'd, Cheated, abus'd; this is none of my Letter, nor any of my orders; some subtil Devil has Counter-feited Cunnington, and on my life carried her off to Frederick.

Destruction seize the World; to Frederick did ye say, to Frederick?

It must be so, he has doubtless given her to that other Cunning Rogue, and punished him▪ I sent for a feigned mischief.

What e're has chanc'd is Fortunes fault not mine; that Quickwit is the Devil, and can Act in such variety of Shapes, Hell cannot balk his Cunning.

Very fine; so I perceive I am like to lose my Heiress again; but tis no great matter, for I've another new Intreague, and thats all one to me, gad take me.

Here is such Cousining, and Cheats, and Tricks, that Shinkin knows not what to make on't by St. Davy.

Torture and Death; this is the greatest Plague, the feinds could e're Invent to vex my Soul: he has her now and without doubt laughs at me.

Hey, mettle to the back too,—gad take me, Ile warrant her.

The Fifty Guineas too, no doubt are paid by this time: this was a damn'd subtil Rogue.

Nay never hide thy self, take one good wish first; may thy dull resty Age increase diseases, the Palsy, Gout, Snattica, and Stone, and have no better Doctor than thy self, as for the Attributes of Fool and Cuckold, I need not grace thee with 'em; those thou hast already, but mayst thou have none but Saylers Wives for Patients, and those so Raving Mad that in their Fits each one may long to have a peice of thee, and Tear thee as the Thracians, once did Orpheus, or I could now, thou Paralitick insect.

O Villain! Dog, Doctor, are you there? I'll knock his Head off.

More Mischief yet! I shall be murder'd now, that's certain.

How, this! is't possible? What, my Friend Cunnington? nay if he were not an old Coxcomb, thou shouldest have thy penny-worths out of him; that's certain, for we perceive he deserves it richly; but prithee how gott'st thou off; I was just sending to thee.

Why, as good luck would have it, just before they had time to Chain me, I made shift to climb up the Chimney; what kicks and Buffets I've endur'd for—you shall know at more leisure: I [...] only now Breath and [Page 48] time to tell ye, that if you follow me quickly, you may recover the Heiress agen.

Hah,—what say'st thou?

Oh thou blest Angel of a Fellow, go on.

From the top of the Chimney, as I was trying to get down, casting my Eyes to a little Garden house, not far off, who should I see? but that Rogue in a Quakers habit, with Sir Quibble and Frederick leading your Daughter cross a Gravel Walk into an Arbor.

And hast thou marked the place, thou Charming Creature?

Most carefully.

Hah! and shall we get her? speak, speak, thou pretious▪

I tell ye, ye shall.

What from Frederick? hah! what sayst thou? speak quickly thou Cherubin.

Oons from Frederick? from all em: ye little Brisk pretty Black-ey'd—what a pox, will she Ravish me?

Thanks Fortune, that was unexpected.

Which you should never have known if I could have carried her off my self.

Let's away instantly and fetch the Constable and Watch; come, Tom, and Cousin.

Oh Heaven! this is the happiest turn.

SCENE. 4.

This is the happiest moment of my Life.

And mine too, I'll say't.

That was a very close hugg; the Knight out does ye Sir Extreamly in his Carresses.

Is not the Parson come yet? dull heavy fellow, how can he loyter so.

Ay, what's his Name, pray Brother when is he to come, and what is he doing all this while.

Rid [...]ulous questions! what shall I do with him Tom?

I don't know the Fool begins to smell the Trick and grows Imperti­nent upon't.

You must discover the truth to him, for he's so brisk upon me, theres no enduring him.

Why then, Madam? I'll say't, I believe you mistake your Man, this Gentleman is my Brother; Madam, 'tis I am your Knight; Madam, 'tis, I am he that is to do the favour.

My Knight, ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha—her Knight! Oh fye Brother, you know your self and the Lady better sure.

Sir Quibble expresses himself very Comical in troth, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Hey da, why what d'ee laugh at all so, and where's the Joak? I'll say't I can find none: Why, am not I to marry the Lady Mrs. Quickwit? and must not I be then her Knight?

No, no, Sir Quibble there was another Design in't from the begining.

Alas Sir, what should you do with a Wife? when d'e think you should get her to be of your side? where would you find an Humour that would be suitable to ye? and why would you prove the Fatal Consequence of dis­agreeable Marriage, Sir; there's four questions, now answer me quickly.

Ha, ha, ha, ha—

Pray, Madam, hold your self contented a little; harkee Brother, han't I layd out a hundred and fifty Pounds about this business?

Within a small matter, I think; why sure you don't grutch to do a small kindness for your Brother?

No, but to part with ones Mistress to ones Brother, is a little too much, tho' I'll say't; therefore I must tell ye plainly, Brother, I won't do't.

You see the Lady is uneasie, Sir Quibble.

Ay, 'tis all one for that, keep you your distance too, or I'll say't I shall so tan your Quakers hide, I shall make ye act your Play but ill when you come to't agen else; why sure? tho' I have bin led by the Nose a little, and laid out my Money, I can't tell how, I won't lose my Mrs.—ye Lobrocks what a Plague I am not such a Fool neither?

If this blunt Fool should beat us both now, 'twould be a pretty jest?

Nay then, there's no time for delays; let go her hand and presently, or I'll run my Sword into your Heart.

Why then, I'le run mine into your gutts; let go my Mistress: No I an't such a Fool neither I tell ye: Odzooks I'le keep her in spite of ye, hoh hoh.

Will ye so, Sir? that's more than you can promise long, and so have at ye.

Nay then, stand to't Brother; I'me of thy side agen now, I'll say' [...].

So, you are ours once agen, in spite of Fortune. How now Cousin, what Wounded?

A Plague take your Confounded English Customs, look you, that you cannot get your Wives and your Marriages, but a Shentleman must have his Pate and his Prains peaten out about it? well fare her own Countrey I say, the Prittains have not such Pribbles and Prabbles, and broken Pates by Cad­wallader.

Scene. 1.

HAD ever Man such Cause to Curse his Fortune? to be so neer the long'd for happiness, and then to lose it, doubles the vexa­tion: Oh I could ou [...]rail now a losing Gamester; a [...]ashier'd Captain; or a Grumbler double Tax'd.

And I, a Suburb Bawd just come from Garting: A Plague of my Qua­kers shape here; if I had not look'd so like a Rogue, on my Conscience I had thriven better.

I'm sure my loss is irrecoverable, for I must ne▪re hope to come into Favour with Sir Charles agen, but then the Consolation I have in your sweet promise, Sir, does I confess allay—

O prithee good Spouse that must be; no more Love now, my Bones smart a little too▪ much at present, to let me entertain any Amorous▪ Motions—Ah Plague of their Rusty Bills; that Rogue Cunningman took care they should all fall on me still; but what's most Comical? As I was running off after you, he comes up to me and with a grave Face, as if he had known nothing of the matter, invites me to drink a stand of Ale with him this Evening at Numpses.

Ha, ha, ha, ha—and wilt thou go?

Ay by this Light will I; and if I can mould that dull headed Fellow once more rightly, my Witty Antagonist shall have but little cause to boast his late success—come Courage, Sir; they shall make Paste of my Bones with their Battoons e're I give up a Cause I've undertaken, whilst my Brains lye in their right place: This Evening will prove all, till then farewell—If I get the Dice once on my side—the Golds my own yet; I've Art enough to manage them I'm sure.

I must follow him and put him once more in mind.

If Fulvia were Heiress apparent to the Universe, there could not be more Wit nor diligence us'd obout her. This is the third time our Confede­rate Forces have been repuls'd: And Faith were I not sensible the Castle were stor'd: with the best sort of Ammunition, tempting Gold? I think I should have long since raised the Siege: I must confess my self to be of that Pagan Opinion, that there is no one Quality belonging to a Woman, unless it be her Money that can countervail a Man's playing the Fool in Courting her a Month for: This was my Plea with Sophronia once, who has some simple passionate Papers of mine still, that I wish I had out of her hands; my deserting was not so very just its true, but then 'twas very profitable, and this damn'd Money has power to make a Rogue of a Man, often times Constancy, that's most certain?

SCENE 2.

Nay if you'r in a Passion, I'll desist, but if you'll hear, I'll prove it?

What, that Frederick's false! Oh 'tis ridiculous Mallice, and I'll not believe it: I know she lov'd him her self once, and this is now the product of her Poph.

False as Brieno to Olimpia in the Story, base, Mercenary, the worst de­gree of Falsehood.

Ha ha, ha, ha! you rave, you rave, Cousin; I pitty ye; pray go home and let blood, you are dangerously distemper'd take my word.

Not with thy Disease, Child, I'm sure; I swear I would not have it for the World.

You talk as if I had the Gout or Palsie, or a long Family Rhumatism, that distinguish'd the Blood of my Relations for ten Ages: VVhat Diseease is't you mean—take heed of Scandel Cousin?

Nay, do you take heed on't Cousin? for the Disease that I mean, has generally some Infection that way, 'tis called a Masculine Calenture, or the Plague of Man-loving; it often seizes upon. Creatures of thy Age, and is of that strange Nature, that it dulls and Numbs the Brains as if they were froze, which must be chas'd and warmed a long time by Reason and Argument, or else the Patient will never return to her right Senses.

Lord, that's a terrible Disease indeed, but yet for all its violence, I have Brains enough left to see a distemper in you too, Cousin; 'tis the Plague of Greediness, and you use me as the great Sister in a Country Cottage does the lesser; you would pack me to Bed without any Supper, because you have a mind to my Bread and Butter.

No, no, Child, the Case differs between us extreamly, some may feast with a Rasher upon the Coals, whilst others [...]eck at the very smell: And I must have thy Stomach before I can be greedy of thy Dyet.

Come, come, Cousin, you have stomach enough, nay indeed so much that you grow sullen with it, and like a little Child, won't eat your Meal till you see the Plate ready to be given away to another; for as homely a bit as you make of that Rasher, if I am mot mistaken in the Morsel, you would be glad of it to relish your Mornings Draught, and for all your Course Name of Rasher, tartly think it a Gnatt or a VVheat-Ear.

If Frederick be the Wheat-Ear you mean? I had rather have an Old Caoon at the latter end of Iuly.

Ah, you shall never banter me with that—you'd think him a young Pheasant at the latter end of October, if you had him, to my knowledge?

I think him, prithee if his Spesies were chnaged, and he were turned into a Cormorant, a Buzzard, or an Owl, 'twere all one to me.

Any thing but the Capon, Cousin, you were speaking of, I dare swear for all your Anger, you have too much Charity, to wish him turned into that.

It does so little concern my Charity, that I should like my Hen with Eggs very well without any trouble, to know they should never come to be Chickens, and consequently Cocks of the Game. Besides there is so much ill Blood begot now a days, and so many Strains Crossed, that if, for the Future, the Sex were all Capons, [...] question whether the King would lose e're a good Sub­ject by't.

This is your Satyricall Vein now. Oh! how you Fatten your self with this humour, just like a Noncon, that rails at Episcopacy, not or any just reason, but through self will'd Opinion, and rediculous Envy; else why is Frede­rick still the Theam of Railing?

Oh! thou ungrateful Creature, have I not told thee? 'tis through kind­ness to thee.

To me, rather say through Hatred to him, because he Loves me▪

He Loves thee not, his baseness does deceave thee; Mercenary Soul Covets thy Fortune; thy Person is the least of all his wishes.

Just so I dream't indeed

but 'tis▪ Barbarity to doubt a Lo­ver for an Idle dream; I'll not be so unjust, come, come, 'tis all Envy; and to deal freely with ye, I now must tell ye, I take it as an affront, not as a kindness.

That's always a Fools humour, when they have not Brains enough to know the Courtesy, they term it an Affront.

Well, for all your mighty Wit, this shall not get your Ends; I see your Hatred and your Envy to him, and consequently judge his Love to me: I'll Marry him in spite of all the World.

Thou shalt not Marry him, tho all the World assist thee.

How poor is this, and mean, because my merit appears above those in his deserving Eyes; thy Heart breeds venom, and thy Slaundrous Tongue, dissen­tion between Lovers.

Lovers! Damnation, how She Tortures me? I tell thee once more thou deceived poor Creature; he does not Love thee, nor cannot Marry thee if he would, which is a secret; nothing but sweet revenge could e're draw from me.

What, will you Cunjure? shall your plain dealing Faculty Convert it self to Magick? or d'ee carry a little Familiar under your Girdle, to Enchant us upon occasion; which way will you do this?

That e're the Clock sound Midnight thou▪ shalt know; in the mean time, let thy Young Hotbrain'd wild unthinking Head remember this from me.

She has so much moved the passion in my Soul, my Eyes can scarce contain it? what discovery she can make, I know not, but long to be resolved; tis true, we have had so many lets and troubles in this business; as if Providence it self dislik'd the proceedings; but still this is no proof; besides he has Sworn his faithful Love so often, 'twere infamous and dishonourable to doubt it.

Madam, I need not tell you my resentments, nor how I rellish your ungenerous dealings; you have reason enough to guess, and after guessing, have wit enough to make me satisfaction.

Well, Sir Charles, consideration you know, ne're comes too late.

Right, Madam, and to shew you that I practice it my self, I will forget your late Discoveries, and once more address my self, an humble Suitor on my Sons behalf.

I will consider of it, mean time, believe this fairness of your Temper wins me more, then all your plots and Stratagems before.

Come, come; Slapdash, twill be a Match faith, and so forth; gad I'll say this for Squire Thomas, he's a Notable person, as my wife informs me; she says he pushes forward into business mighty well; he'll be a great incourager of Trade, and so forth.

I hope my Cander and my Love at last, will force ye to be grate­full, and to shew how much I prize a Reconcilement; this Night we will have [Page 53] Revells and a Ball, and I my self will drink one Glass the more, in honour of the Marriage▪

Marriage, Sir, is a thing of weight; but as I told ye, Sir, I will con­sider of it, and to that purpose begg the favour to retire a little.

Do so, and rest your self against the Evening, for Tom intends to lead ye a brisk measure i'faith—so I hope all will be right now, she seems considerative, which is one great step to Sentiment and Knowledge

Pugh! Slapdash, the woman has it in her head; now Sir Charles, all will go well I see't.

Now Sir, if you have any regard to your Honour, or the Reputati­on of a Citizen of London, as you have formerly flourished upon, come along with me, and you shall see what a Snake you have foster'd up; or to speak in plainer Terms, you shall see what a Cuckold you are.

Come, y'are a rude Hectorly to'ther end of Town fellow, I tell ye [...] pray keep from my House: I a Cuckold because I promote business, and Man­nage my Wife wisely for the honour of the City; Sir, I scorn your words, for Gadzookes, I had rather be an Elephant.

But in the mean time, you are a Beast of another kind, which come but along with me, shall appeare; I will shew thee such things, such Monstrous things.

What you have seen Squire Thomas I warrant, go into my Wives Cham­ber privately, or so; well what then? tis about business and so forth, she knows what she does I warrant her.

Ay, but you don't know what she does to my knowledg; come, come▪ you shall go, I have lodged 'em all yonder, the Welsh Fop, and his Skittish Devil too; your Rooms are all taken up and managed for the honour of the City, and so forth.

Why then they are managed according to my desire, and so forth. I defy any Citizens Wife within the Wails, to have a better head for business than her self; for I'll hold a Hundred Pounds, she has drawn one of 'em into some lucky wager or other; nay, nay, prithee hold thy tongue; gad, if thou wer't one of the Apostles, I'de believe nothing against Pogry and Squire Thomas, not I

Why then like an unbelieving Sotas thou art, come and use thy Eyes▪ nay, nay, no drawing back—by Heaven thou shalt go.

To laugh at thee, which I know I shall do and Damnably too, I a Cuck­old,—as I said before I shall soon be an Elephant I'm sure.

SCENE. 3.

Well, I believe I am an Orginal about Intreague; I don't think there's the fellow of me in Europe; gad take me, for now is my Father thumping his Brains, and plotting to get this Heress for me, and here am I hunting a­bout [Page 54] for Sophronia, upon another Intreague: I conveyed a Letter to her just now, by putting it into the Service Book at Church, then dogg'd her home hither,—I must find her out, for I long to know the success on't.

Well, Shinkins was not much behind her in Intreagues, neither look you, for her Cousin Siss, was hide her self hereabouts too, who I find loves Corners and py places extreamly, where gadsplut if Shinkin can find her, her will put her toot, for corners and py places are fery full of temptation; but for all her putting toot, there shall be no Marriages in the Case by St. Davy, there her will peg her Pardon.

Why, that's spoke like a Man of Intreague, gad take me, would I had my dear Angel here, that I am looking for in a Corner.

Softly, softly, take care they don't see ye, shees gon I find at present, but I know will soon return; in the mean time, pray observe the Dialogue be­tween these two Coxcombs.

I shall observe to laugh at you Egregiously, that I shall and so forth.

Pogry stays so long that I see I must leave her, and go and seek out my new Charmer.

Pogry—de' [...] hear, Sir, he begins already.

Well Tom Fool, what o' that?

Fye, fye, to desert your intreague so soon, was to shew falshoods and inconstancies, which is not like Man of honours, look you.

'Tis intreague, pray mind that Hint too, Sir.

Jackanapes, what hint, ye Ass you, what Hint?

Pox on't, her over fondness every day tries me more then a Match at Tennis; here's a Locket she gave me this Morning, which it seems the Fool her Husband gave her Yesterday.

Humph,—humph.

A trifle worth about Fifty Pounds I believe, she teizes me with such Follies as these every minute almost.

Lookee, Sir, so much for the incouragement of Trade, and so forth.

By the Lord Major, the very Lockett that I had of Sir Paul Poundage, the Goldsmith, to let him have share in my Project of the Catskin, oh! I am confounded, I cannot believe my Eyes.

Nay, pray Sir don't laugh too extravagantly, Squire Tomas is but open­ing the Jest yet.

But the jest best is, the Cuckold admits me into his Wives Cham­ber every day, in hopes she will draw me in to lay wagers; when, gad take, me, the only one that ever laid or intend to lay, was a Brass Shilling against a good one, that her next Kid will be a Boy.

There Sir, what think, e of that wager too, has she not drawn him in rarely?

Oh Villian! tother End of Town Bully to ruin business too, that's worse then all; gad I'll speak to my Cousin Touchhole, a Captain of the Train­bands, to lend me a File of Musquetteers to Shoot the Rampant Dog through the Belly.

Nay, nay, have patience Dick, and don't hinder Trade I say.

Trade, gadzooks, this is the Devil of a Trade.

Theres a light in the next Room, and ten to one Sophronia's there a lone, gad I'll go and see, Cloak and Hat lye you there; if Pogry comes in the mean time, let her stay, I have her so much at command, she dares not be angry with me.

Flimms and Flams, and put her toot,—hey Slapdash, why, this is Bawdy-house fashion right, the Welshman's gon to tickle my Cousin Siss in the next Room too.

Ay that's all one, 'tis all to promote Trade you know, and for the honour of the City.

Oh Confusion to the City and all Trade, if this be the Fruits of wagering and stockjobbing, I have no Patience: I'll go to my Cousin Touch-hole, im­mediately: I'll have a dozen Musquets at least.

Nay Faith, stay and see all now, for here's the good Wife coming through the Garden, and here's the Eopps Cloak and Hat left as opportunely to disguise thee, as if we had contrived it; here, here, on with it quickly and Practice his affected Gate, I warrant, you make some strange Discovery.

Na, like enough, but gad I'll send her home agen; if I do, she shall ship for Piccardy with the Next Wind—A Cuckold, Oons I had rather be an Elephant by half; but this comes of succouring French Refugees, with a Pox to 'em.

Ah dear Monsieur, I beg your Pardon vid all min Heart, dat I stay so long, but now I speak of mine Heart dat has bin vid you all dis while, and I only stay to take de Convenience of de Fool my Husbands being out of de way, to bring off some small trifles of Gold and Jewels, which are dedicate to de Joy of my Soul, my Hearts Blood, my Treasure.

Slap dash, here's a French Devil for ye and so forth.

I am so fatigu'd vid dat Brute, dat I can have patience no longer, and derefore come to trow my self upon you, vid whom I will henceforth live and dye, and whom I will follow all de World over.

Why? well said Pogry, rarely done, Pogry, go and be hang'd Pogry, good Protestant Refugee, to Piccardy go, but the Gold and Jewels shall stay in England, ye Jade.

Oh Diable, vat dam misfortune is this?

Nothing, nothing, Madam, I know your Interest with Dicky, will turn the Scale immediatly; this is all upon the score of Trade.

Oh Confound all Trade, Burn the Exchange, hang up all Wagerers and Stockjobbers, and the Devil take all business out of my doors, ye Whore; you are a Protestant, are ye?

Gad take me, I had like to have made a damn'n mistake yonder, for instead of Sophronia, who should I meet within there, but my Father and the Heiress, whom he has just carried to his own House, and Commanded me to follow—Hah, Dicky! how dost thou?

Why Dicky does wondrous well, Sir, as well as a Cuckold can Sir, that had rather be an Elephant there; there's Pogry too, go, go, manage your Trade [Page 56] together, lay another brass Shilling to a Copper one; Stockjob lay Wagers and be damn'd together, honest Squire Thomas, and I'le go to my Cousin Touch­hole and get you mawl'd, Dogbolt, if I can, for all that, and so farewell t'e.

So now you may launch to Piccardy agen, and follow your old Trade of Basketmaking, Jilt; I think I have spoyl'd your Market pretty well here; for your part Coxcomb, I'll go and inform your Father of your design upon Sophro­nia, that I think will do your business too.

'Dsdeath if he does that, I'm undone for ever, I must after and pre­vent it.

Ah! dear Monsieur will you leave me then?

Leave thee, ay gad if thou wert a Cherubin, and I think that's a Station remote enough for a French Refuge

Vas ever hopeful Intreague so spoyl'd—diable must me go

to France agen too, by dis hand me vill deny dat, me vill Rob, me vill Pick de Pocket, me vill drown, me vill hang before ever me leave Sweet England, to go into France agen, dat is certain.

SCENE 4th.

Come all malice apart, prithee lets be grave no longer, but drown Animosities in the bottom of the Pitcher; thou'rt an Ingenious Fellow, and I've a mind to be reconciled to thee, and therefore contrived to meet at this Little Cottage out of the way, where we may speak our minds freely,—Come give me thy hand, shall we be friends?

Prithee, thou canst not be a friend to any Body.

Ha, ha, ha, I know thou'rt angry, but faith Tom I could not help it, thou knowest tis naturall to me to Love Mischief.

Come pull away then.

Come Faith the Heiress health, let's remember her that we have had all this busle about; ye witty Rogue you, I'm damnably afraid you'l get her from us agen, for all her Guardian has her so fast.

Very well Sir, insult, insult; you have the Dice, you may do what you please, ha, ha, ha, gad I should lose another Brace of Fifties if thou shouldst, but I think I may venture her this once.

Ay, Pox on ye for a Witty Rogue, you have the better of me clearly, my Brains are quite dull'd.

Then not to banter any longer, the Match betwixt young Romance is made up, and we are to have a Ball at Sir Charles's House immediately: I wait here for some Masquerading Habits, that I have sent a Messenger to borrow at Twickenham; there's to be a little Ataque too of Pluto, Orpheus, and Euridice, of my Composing, and the Musick of Mr. Purcels—here's the Design, I'll shew it thee.

Ay hang ye, you us'd to be Ingenious enough at these things.

There's a Man without, with a Bundle, desires to speak with ye, and 't shall please ye.—

Oh! that's well, 'tis the Fellow with the Habits, I must go and take 'em.

Ah Master Quickwit, Numps was a damn'd sower part for me, it was adswowkers, but d'e hear, when am I to be paid for't, I was only thrash'd confoundedly for acting so well,—that's all I have got yet.

Why now the happy Minute's come to make ample satisfaction to us both, and do but as I advise thee, thou shalt get thy Twenty Pounds presently, and Mr. Frederick shall have the Heiress into the bargain.

Odswowkers, how can that be, Master Quickwit?

Do'st know this Fellow that went out?

Not I, I never saw him in my life.

This is that very Rogue that betray'd us to Sir Charles, and the Doctor, that procur'd thy beating, and has ever since frustrated our Plots upon the Heiress.

'Sbud, my Bones ake at the very thought on't; oh Dog Villain, is this he?

This is the very Rascal, who is now gone out for some disguises to make some Dancing Entertainment there this Evening; now if thou can'st but get two or three of thy honest Neighbours to seize him, I'll contrive the Heiress for Frederick and he shall have the Guinnies ready for thee.

'Odzookes Master Quickwit, I'll do it immediately, for it never could happen in a better time, for I have three or four Neighbours here drinking in the next Room, that will do't for Mr. Frederick at a words speaking.—

Away then dear Numps, and call 'em instantly,—now Fortune favour this once, and be my Goddess for ever after.

Well, prithee tell me now, how do'st like the contrivance, you must know I am to do Pluto there my self.

Nay, thou art the fittest Person to act the Devil, of any one I know, that I'll say for thee.

Ha, ha, ha, prithee leave off thy frumps, thou can'st not forgive me heartily yet, I see, come faith, give me thy Hand, I'll contract a Friendship with thee.

Ay, that's likely to prove well, why, thou never yet could'st be a Friend to thy self, much less to any one else.

Faith, the Heiress and I will drink thy health presently, but you shall promise me, you won't get her from me agen, you witty Rascal—you shall faith, ha, ha, ha.—

W'are Catchpol'd Ioe—I'll promise nothing.

How now, what a Devil's the matter now?

Come, Sir, you must go along with us.

With you, whither, forwhat—'Oons are the Men mad?

Alas, good Sir, why de'ye pull and haul the Gentleman so, 'Dshart, what's the matter I say, what have I done?

What has he done Brother? By the Maskins I can't tell.

Tell him he has spoke Treasonable words against the Govern­ment.

Secure him as a Traytor, he has spoke some vengenable words—against the Government.

Who I, 'dsdeath, I?

Oh, Rogue, Villain, has he so, we'll hamper ye.

A Traytor, nay then there may be Treason in this bundle for ought I know, I'll secure that.

'Sbud I have said nothing, ye are all mad sure, I tell ye you mi­stake your Man,—Brother, prithee put in a word for me.

No, Brother, no, Treason's a dangerous thing, I dare not med­dle in't.

Come, come, away with him to Mr. Soakes the Constables, and then let him deal with him.

Ay, ay, away with him, away with him.

Pray remember to drink my Health with the Heiress, good Bro­ther.

Away with him, Gentlemen, away with him, ha, ha, ha.—

Ah, plague upon ye, help, help, Murder, Murder.

So, now I'll to Frederick immediately—the Dice are now on my side—and if I don't thrive now by my Hand, I shall despair here­after.

SCENE Ultima.

You'll be sure to keep your promise.

Punctually, keep but my Counsel, and Five Hundred Pounds are thine at the day of Marriage.

Well, Sir, upon that condition my Mouth is seal'd up, and your Father shall know nothing, but if you abuse my trust, Bilbo's the word, you know what I mean.

Well, well, not a word more, this plaguy hot-headed Fel­low,—may do me mischief now, but when I'me once Married, I'll mannage him as I see occasion.—

Since Fredericks ill fortune has made him lose the Heiress, 'tis some part of Revenge, to make this Fool pay soundly for it.

Come, where are the Musick and the Dancers,—Son Tom, why methinks thou art lazy in the business.

Mr. Cunnington is not come yet, Sir, with the Habits, but we ex­pect him every Minute; gad take me, my head runs so much upon Sophronia, that I can get nothing else into't for the heart o'me.

Well, I am glad to see things in so good a posture at last, by the life of Gallen, all great advantages are acquired with great trouble—she's an Heiress and Rich, the more difficult still to be obtain'd, but—Patience and Industry make all things easie; I forgive her trick upon me with all my Heart, and shall be well pleas'd to Tope a Bumper at her Wedding.

Oh, Mr. Hotspurr, y'are welcome, I see my Son and you are reconcil'd, and honourably I make no question, therefore shall be glad to appear your Friend.

Friend, ay, just as the Friendship of the World is, he cares not Threepence if I were Strapado'd; nor I three Farthings if he were Hang'd.—

Oh horrid! to infringe your Word and Honour, is a baseness not proper for a Gentleman, and I'll discover it to your Uncle, as I'me a Virgin.—

And Gadsplut, to Marry Wildcats, and Harridans, and her knows not what, is like Fools by St. Davy, and her will discover that too.

How now, what's the matter, Cousin Rice, what is't occasions the Lady's tears.

I'll tell you, Sir Charles, tho' I confess the odious story ought to be conceal'd, but since my▪ Honour is concern'd, it must out.

For now we shall hear a Welsh Intrigue, gad take me, I shall bring a new method on't by degrees, in all the Countys about England.

You all know my detestation of Lampoons, and the care I have always taken, to prevent 'em, but you must know, this Gentleman, hav­ing long made an honourable Address of Love to me▪ upon condition that he defended me against scandal by Marriage,—at last I consented.

Gadsplut her only talk'd of Marriages, look you to keep her from squeaking and squawling, her intentions were quite other things by Cadway.

Ay, ay,—Madam, to my knowledge, my Cousin Rice hates Marriage, as much as you do a Lampoon, you are mistaken in your Man—gad take me.

The more reprobate Person he, for Heaven knows, Sir Charles, how loth I was to Intriegue with any Man, and to that purpose, have of­ten ran up into my Chamber, got into dark Closets, Cellars, Larders, and such by-places, where I thought the mischief of Man, could not over­take me, as I'me a Virgin.

Where you thought the mischief of Man would soonest over­take ye, as I'me a Virgin.

Son Tom, Tace, proceed Madam.

But in spite of all my industry, this wild Welsh Creature has still found me out, and has publish'd himself and me, in so particular a manner, that here I am in a Lampoon again, and in so filthy a stile, that I vow I'm asham'd to read it.

What signifies running into Closets, and Cellars, and Larders, was not all her Doors left open, can her deny that?

Alas, I had not presence of mind enough, to shut the Door upon him, this is my deplorable case, Sir Charles, and if he does not Marry me, I must never shew my Face in the World again, I am utterly undone, as I'm a Virgin.

Her has been as much undone; look you in Cellars, and Closets, fery often before Shinkin's found her there, as report goes, and to be prief, her shan't marry Harridans and Wildcats, and there's, there's the resolu­tion of a true Prittain, look you.

Never particular with any Person, since I was born before, as I'm a Virgin.

Well, well, go after and teize him, this business must be de­bated at a more convenient hour, for I see the Entertainment is going forward, here comes my Daughter,—now Tom mind your business.

Cousin, no more, the proofs are clear and manifest, and as you relish my proceedings, second me.

Against the World, in such a generous action.

Pray, what are these, Sir Charles?

Oh, these are Mummers, some of the young fry of the Neigh­bour-hood that having a frolick this Evening, desire to give us a share on't, the Subject is the stealing an Heiress, and the Figures are Love, Desire, Youth, and Avarice, that all Court the Lady Pecunia, the design is pretty enough, come let 'em begin.

Here's more, what are these?

Oh, this is Cunnington's contrivance, a little masque of Pluto, Orpheus, and Euridice, pray let's observe.

They desire to practice with Euridice a little in the next room, and then you shall see 'em do it perfectly. Come, Madam, this is the rarest contrivance to escape that ever you had.

Hold, hold, are ye mad? why, Sir Charles, and you Squire Small-brains, you will not suffer me to be carried off thus before your faces, will ye?

But into the next room to practice a little, Madam.

You are to act Euridice, you know, Madam, and they will only see if you are perfect in your cue; Mr. Cunnington there, has shewn me the whole design.

And Mr. Quickwit, the witty Player here, has shewn it me, Sir. Come, Pluto, you must unmask.

'Dsdeath, Madam, what d'ye mean, you wont discover us, and undoe all?

Yes faith, Sir, I've a fancy in my head that 'tis not lucky to be stolen to day; therefore you Orpheus, otherwise call'd Frederick the con­stant, you must uncover too, your singing will hardly get ye a Mistress to night, I can assure ye.

She discovers us—Death and Confusion! what new turn's this?

Methinks, Mr. Heiress-stealer, you look very blank o'th' sudden.

Ay, 'tis so—this is the Female Devil that has done me this admirable good turn, I find it now, and my disgrace approaching: Oh! damn'd! damn'd Fortune!

What think ye now, Sir Charles? am I not very just to my Guardian?

This is such an affront, as nothing but my Sword can do me justice in.

Gad take me, the Devil's in 'em for plotting, I think; will they never let us alone?

That Devil Quickwit in the Plot agen! I hope you'll give him one good thrust for my sake.

Nay, no fighting, good Gentle­men: Well, well, Sir, I understand ye, but you are so hasty—

Lookee, Sir Charles, here's ano­ther part of the Jest remains still, which this Gentleman Mu [...]er is wittily concerned in too, who having no ill opinion of himself, and con­sequently [Page 62] believing I had a very good one of him, sent me word he was bail'd, and his present design of mumming, bribing some of his Tenants to act it, and help carry me off; and is really, and in specie, the very nu­merical and amorous Knight, Sir Quibble Quere.

Sir Quibble Quere too? why, here are all the Fools in the Nation sure, concern'd in this Plot.

'Dsheart, why will you discover me now, Madam? I'll say't, 'twas the purest design that ever was laid, but I hope you'll marry me for all this, for you know I have laid out a pour of Money upon't, and have now a Coach and six Horses ready at the Garden-gate for ye, I'll say't, you ought to consider now, Madam; what a dickins, Consci­ence is Conscience all the World over.

Learnedly argued, Sir Quibble, and you shall see what Justice I'll do you all presently; first you, Sir, that through the

baseness of your sordid nature, and mercenary thirst of gain, abus'd me, take that as a reward for your Ingratitude and my Eternal hatred for the future.

My contract of Marriage to Sophronia!—this is the Thunder­bolt I always dreaded, and 'tis fall'n with a vengeance.

Read there a base Deceiver's Character, and for thy sake may never generous Maid, trust thy false Sex to be again betray'd.

Instead of Heiresses and blooming Brides with fifty thousand Pounds, Stick to your old Doll Commons of the Town,

And cater as you us'd for half a Crown.

Peace, Witch, Fury, now could I eat that Satyrical Devil with­out Salt for my Breakfast! Torture and Death! to stay here too, and be baited, is worse than breaking upon the Wheel!—Hell take all Heir­esses, and all the Sex besides.

Ha, ha, ha, alas poor Brother, I see now I am to be the happy Man.

Troth no, Sir, I must beg your pardon too—your Estate is wasted with disbursing Sums to go a Fortune-hunting; nor have you Brains enough to get another, and to marry a Ninny, a Bankrupt, no, as you us'd to say, Sir, I a'n't such a Fool neither.

You may send home your Coach, Sir Quibble, you will have no use for it here, Gad take me.

Why then a Plague of all Intrigues: I'll go and get drunk, and despise all Womankind, for I'll say't, I'll ne're hang my self about the matter, but I'll have my Money again if there be Law in Eng­land, let the Women go to the Devil, I'll not be chous'd out of that; what a Pox, I a'n't such a Fool neither.

Ha, ha, ha,—thus far, Sir Charles, you see how far I have discharg'd your Trust, do ye resolve therefore to deliver up your Guar­dianship freely, that I may have generous liberty to pursue my Incli­nations.

Madam, with all my heart, before this Company I declare you free to chuse a new Guardian where you please, and to confirm it, [Page 63] take there the Keys where all your Writings are, and the Power left me by your Father,—I see she intends to give her self generously to my Son, and therefore to confine her, were ungenerous.

There stands the Gentleman, Madam, if you design him happy, the quicker work the better.

That might have been done, indeed, Doctor, to oblige Sir Charles, but the Gentleman you speak of, has made a better choice, as this can witness.

How's this! a Letter of Courtship to Sophronia!

Oh! and so full of Passion, Flame, and Darts, that it almost scorch'd me when I read it.

Oh Villain! Dol [...]! Town-Fop! have I been racking my Brains all this while to get an Heiress to thy purpose! what's the mean­ing of this, Sirrah?

Why the meaning is, that I love all the Sex, gad take me, and can no more confine my self to one Woman, than to one Suit of Cloaths; if you don't like the humour you might have got me a better, that's all I know of the matter.

Insupportable Coxcomb! I'll disinherit thee immediately.

More turns and Plots, this is a very Comedy, by the life of Gallen.

So, I find I am like to Cudgel my five hundred Pounds out of my Spark, for the Devil a pen [...]y [...]e's like to get by the Heiress—but stay, who the Devil will she chuse,—if I should be the Man at last.

Since such a general defect of honesty corrupts the Age, I'll no more trust Mankind, but lay my Fortune out upon my self, and flourish in contempt of humane Falshood: as for thy part that hast been a main Acter in this business, and with contriving wit well manag'd it, to let thee see th' Ingenious still gets Friends, I will with Gold reward thy Industry, nor shall honest Numps, may, nor your Co [...]ade, be either of the [...] forgotten,—but be in­stantly brought hither, and share a part of Bounty.

'Tis my Glory, Madam, to be outwitted by you, and if my Brain did any thing uncommon, it was by you inspir'd.

Well, [...] Fortune has contriv'd the business, so I hope, Sir, you think it time to remember me.

Oh, prithee, dear venerability, have patience a little, thou [...]eest all the Marriages are [...] at present, and 'tis not fit we should be singular, my dear Antiqu [...].

Alas, sweet Sir, but delays you km [...]w are dangerous, and if I should be balk'd in my Expectation, my heart is so set upon' [...] that I should anihilate that very moment, I should dye, as I'm a Christian.

Well, Cousin, what think we now of my Resolution, have I not done Justice?

Most generous Maid, thou art a dear Example for all th [...] S [...] to copy out thy Virtue, for that a kind and tender heart like [...], [Page 64] moulded for Love, and softned with Endearments, should generously on the account of honour, resist a Traytor, that with strong E [...]hantments of Vows and Oaths, had long time made Impression, is a performance heightned to a wonder, and will be reverenc'd in succeeding ages.

My eyes in contradiction to the World, have ever (scorn­ing Interest) fix'd on Merit, and led by Love and Generous inclination, have strove to make that Sentiment appear by a free present of my Heart and Fortune to one I thought as nobly had deserv'd 'em. But, oh! the Race of Men are all Deceivers, and my relief, is my resolve to shun 'em; 'tis, my dear Friend, as thou hast lately told me, which for instru­ction I will still repeat.