COusin Shamwell well met; Good morrow to you.

Cousin Belfond your humble Ser­vant: What makes you abroad so early? 'Tis not much past seven.

You know we were Bowsy last night: I am a little hot-headed this morning: And come to take the fresh Air here in the Temple-walks.

Well: And what do you think of our way of living here? Is not rich generous Wine better than your poor Hedg-Wine stum'd, or dull March-Beer? Are not delicate well-bred, well-dress'd Women better than Dairy-Maids, Tenants Daughters, or Barefoot Strumpets? Streets full of fine Coaches, better than a yard full of Dung-Carts? A Magnificent Ta­vern, than a Thatcht Ale-house? Or the society of brave ho­nest, witty, merry Fellows, than the Conversation of un­thinking Hunting, Hawking Block-heads, or High-shoo'd Peasants and their wiser Cattle?

O yes, a world adad. Ne're stir, I could never have thought there had been such a gallant place as London: [Page 2] Here I can be drunk over night, and well next morning: Can ride in a Coach for a shilling as good as a Deputy Lieute­nants; and such merry Waggs, and ingenious Companions.— Well, I vow and swear, I am mightily beholding to you, Dear Cousin Shamwell: Then for the Women! Mercy upon us, so civil and well bred. And I'll swear upon a Bible, finer all of them than Knight Baronets Wives with us.

And so kind and pleasant!

Ay, I vow pretty Rogues! No pride in them in the World; but so courteous and familiar, as I am an honest man, they'll do whatever one would have 'em presently; Ah sweet Rogues: While in the Country, a pies take 'em, there's such a stir with pish, fy, nay Mr. Timothy, what do you do? I vow I'll squeak, never stir I'll call out, ah hah—

And if one of 'em happen to be with Child: There's strait an uproar in the Country, as if the Hundred were su'd for a Robbery!

Ay so there is: And I am in that fear of my Father besides adad, he'd knock me i'th' Head, if he should hear of such a thing: To say truth, he's so terrible to me I can never enjoy my self for him: Lord! What will he say when he comes to know I am at London? Which he in all his life-time would never suffer me to see, for fear I should be debauch'd forsooth; And allows me little or no money at home neither.

What matter what He says? Is not every Foot of the Estate entail'd upon you?

Well, I'll endur't no longer! If I can but raise Money; I'll teach him to use his Son like a Dog, I'll warrant him.

You can ne're want that: Take up on the Reversion: 'Tis a lusty one; And Cheatly will help you to the Ready: And Thou shalt shine and be as gay as any Spruce Prigg that ever walk'd the Street.

Well: adad, you are pleasant men: And have the neatest sayings with you: Ready, and Spruce Prigg, and abundance of the prettiest witty words.—But sure that Mr. Cheatly is as fine a Gentleman as any wears Head: And [Page 3] as ingenious; ne'r stir I believe he would run down the best Scholar in Oxford, and put 'em in a Mouse-hole with his Wit.

In Oxford! Ay, and in London too.

Goodsookers Cozen! I always thought they had been wittiest in the Universities.

O fy Cozen: A Company of Putts! meer Putts!

Putts, meer Putts: very good I'll swear, ha ha ha.

They are all Scholar Boys, and nothing else, as long as they live there: And yet they are as confident as if they knew every thing; when they understand no more beyond Magdalen-Bridge than meer Indians. But Cheatly is a rare fellow: I'll speak a bold word, He shall Cut a Sham or Banter with the best Wit or Poet of 'em all.

Good agen! Cut a Sham, or Banter! I shall re­member all these quaint words in time: But Mr. Cheatly's a prodigy that's certain.

He is so; and a worthy brave fellow, and the best friend where he takes, and the most sincere of any man breathing.

Nay, I must needs say, I have found him very frank, and very much a Gentleman, and am most extremely oblig'd to him and you for your great kindness.

This morning your Cloaths and Liveries will come home, and thou shalt appear rich and splendid like thy self, and the Mobile shall worship thee.

The Mobile! That's pretty.

Sweet Mr. Cheatly, my best friend, let me embrace thee.

My sprightly Son of Timber and of Acres: My no­ble Heir I salute thee: The Cole is coming, and shall be brought in this morning.

Cole? Why 'tis Summer, I need no firing now. Besides I intend to burn Billets.

My lusty Rustick, learn and be instructed. Cole is in the language of the Witty, Money. The Ready, the Rhino; thou shalt be Rhinocerical, my Lad, thou shalt.

Admirable I swear! Cole! Ready! Rhino! Rhino­cerical! Lord, how long may a man live in ignorance in the Country?

Ay: But what Asses you'l make of the Country Gentlemen when you go amongst them. 'Tis a Providence your are faln into so good hands.

'Tis a mercy indeed. How much Cole, Ready, and Rhino shall I have?

Enough to set thee up to Spark it in thy Brothers face: And e're thou shalt want the Ready, the Darby, Thou shalt make thy fruitful Acres in Reversion to fly, And all thy sturdy Oaks to bend like Switches! But thou must squeeze my Lad: Squeeze hard, and Seal my Bully. Shamwell and I are to be bound with thee.

I am mightily beholding to you both I vow and swear; my Uncle Sir Edward took my Brother when he was a Child, and Adopted him: Would it had been my Lot.

He is a noble Gentleman, and maintains him in Coach and Equipage fit for him.

Thou shalt not see the Prigg thy Brother till thou shalt out-jingle him in Ready, out-shine him in thy Orna­ments of Body, out-spark him thy Coach and Liveries; and shalt be so Equipt, that thou shalt dazle the whole Town with thy Outragious Splendor.

I vow his Tongue is rarely hung!

Thy Brothers heart shall break with Envy at thy Gallantry: The Fops and Beaux shall be astonisht at thy bright­ness. What Ogling there will be between thee and the Blow­ings: Old staring at thy Equipage. And every Buttock shall fall down before thee.

Ha ha ha! I vow you are the pleasant'st man I ever met with, and I'll swear the best friend I ever had in my life; that I must needs say. I was resolv'd not to let my Bro­ther see me till I was in Circumstances dee see: And for my Father he's in Holland. My Mothers Brother dy'd and left him sole Executor. He'll not be here these six Weeks.

Well, when you see your Brother he'll envy you, and rail at those who made you flourish so. We shall be cast off.

Gudzookers Cousin! I take it very unkindly that you should say so. I'll cast off all the Relations in the [Page 5] World before I'll part with such true, such loving Friends, adad.

O noble Captain Hackum, your Servant; Servant Captain.

Your humble Trout, good noble Squire, you were brave and bowzy last night; i'saith you were.

Yes really, I was Clear: For I do not remember what I did, or where I was: Clear, Clear; is not that right?

Ay ay! Why, you broke Windows: scour'd, broke open a House in Dorset Court, and took a pretty Wench, a Gentlemans Natural, away by force.

Very true: And this Magnanimous Spark, This Thunder-bolt of War, Captain Hackum, laid about him like a Hero, as did some other of your friends, or else the Watch had maul'd us: But we made them scoure.

Nay o' my Conscience, the Captain's mighty Va­liant; there's Terror in that Countenance and Whiskers: He's a very Scanderberg incarnate. And now you put me in mind, I recollect somewhat of this matter: My Shoulders are plaguy sore, and my Arms black and blue; but where's the Wench, the Natural, ha Captain?

Ah Squire, I led her off. I have her safe for you.

But does not the Gallant thunder and roar for her?

The Scoundrel dares not: He knows me, who never knew fear in my life; For my part, I love Magnanimity and Honour, and those things; And fighting is one of my Recrea­tions.

O brave Captain.

The Prigster lugg'd out in defence of his Natural; the Captain whipt his Porker out, and away rubb'd Prigster and call'd the Watch.

Prigster, lugg'd out, Natural, Porker, rubb'd, admirable! This is very ingenious Conversation: Y'are the purest Com­pany; Who would not keep Company with the Wits; Pox o' the Countrey I say.

But Squire, I had damn'd ill luck afterwards: I went up the Gaming Ordinary, and lost all my Ready; they [Page 6] lest me not a Rag or Sock: Pox o' the Tatts for me: I believe they put the Doctor upon me.

Tatts, and Doctor! what's that?

The Tools of Sharpers, false Dice.

Hark you, prithee Noble Squire, Equipp me with a Couple of Meggs, or two Couple of Smelts.

Smelts! What shall we bespeak another Dish of Fish for our Dinner?

No no, Meggs are Guineas, Smelts are Half Guineas: He would borrow a Couple of Guineas.

Meggs, Smelts! Ha ha ha. Very pretty by my troth. And so thou shalt, Dear Captain: There are two Meggs; and I vow and swear I am glad I have 'em to pleasure you, adad I am.

You are so honest a Gentleman, Quarrel every day and I'll be your Second; once a day at least: And I'll say this for you, There's not a finer Gentleman this day walks the Fryers; no dispraise to any man, let him be what he will.

Adad you make me proud Sir.

O Lolpoop, where have you been all this morning Sirrah?

Why 'tis but rear marry, 'tis meet a bit past Eight: By'r Lady yeow were so fow drunken last neeght I had thoughten yeow wouden ha leen a bed aw th' morn: Well, mine eyne ake a gazing up and down on aw the fine sights; but for aw that send me North to my own Caunty again.

O silly Rogue: You are only fit for Cattle. Gentlemen, you must excuse him, he knows no better.

Marry, better quoth a! By th' Mess, this is a life for the Deel: To be drunken each night, breake Windows, Roar, Sing and Swear i'th' Streets; go to Loggerheads with the Constable and the Watch, han Harlots in Gold and Silver Lace: Hea'n bless us, and send me a whome again.

Peace, you sawcy Scoundrel, or I'll Cudgel you to Pap: Sirrah do not provoke me, I say do not.

Ods flesh, where's Money for aw this? Yeowst be run agraunt soon and you takken this caurse, Ise tell a that.

Take that Sirrah: I'll teach you to mutter: What my Man become my Master?

Waunds! give me ten times more and send me whome agen at after. What will awd Maaster say to this? I mun ne'r see the Face of him I wot.

Hang him Rogue. Toss him in a Blanket.

Let me talk with him a little. Come on Fellow.

Talk! Well, what sen ye?

Your Master being in this matter, to de­port his Count'nance somewhat obliquely, to some principles, which others but out of a Mature Gravity may have weigh'd, and think too heavy to be undertaken; what does it avail if you shall precipitate or plunge your self into affairs, as un­suitable to your Physnomy as they are to your Complexion.

Hah, what sen you? yeow mistaken me: I am not Book-learn'd: I understand a not.

No, 'tis the strangest thing! Why, put the Case you are indebted to me 20 l. upon a Scire facias: I extend this up to an Outlawry, upon Affidavit upon the Nisi prius: I plead to all this matter Non est inventus upon the Pannel; what is there to be done more in this Case, as it lies before the Bench, but to award out Execution upon the Posse Comi­tatus, who are presently to issue out a Certiorari.

I understand a little of Sizes, Nisi prizes, Affidavi, Sussurari! But by the Mess I cannot tell what to mack of aw this together not I.

Ha ha. Puppy! Owl! Loggerhead! O silly Country Put! Here's a Prigg indeed: He'll ne're find out what 'tis to Cut a Sham or Banter: Well, I swear Sir you do it the best of any man in the World.

No no, I swear not I.

I protest Sir you do it Incomparably.

Nay, now you Complement: Faith you make me blush.

Sham and Banter are Heathen Greek to me: But yeow have cut out fine wark for your sel last Neeght: I went to see the Hause yeow had Brocken, aw the Windows are pood dawne. I askt what was the matter, and by th' Mass they haw learnt your Nam too; they saiden Squire Belfond had done it, and Ravish'd a Wench: and that they hadden gotten [Page 8] the Lord Chief Justice Warren for you, and wooden bring a pawr of Actions against yeow.

Is this true?

Ay by th' Mass.

No matter; we'll bring you off with a wet finger▪ trust me for that.

Dear Friend, I rely upon you for every thing.

We value not twenty such things of a rush.

If any of their Officers dare invade our Priviledges, we'll send em to Hell without Bail or Mainprize.

But I can tella a wor news than aw this; I ne'r saw flesh alive, and I saw not your Fathers man Roger come out oth Temple-yate een now. Your Father's in Town that's cer­tain.

How! my Father say you? 'Tis impossible.

Courage my Heir in Tail: Thy Father's a poor sneaking Tenant for Life; thou shalt live better than he can: And if we do contract a Debt upon thy dirty Acres in the North, I have design'd for you a fine young Lady with a swinging Fortune to redeem all; And 'tis impossible my Lad to miss her.

Sir, let me embrace you, and love you▪ Never man embrac'd a better Friend! Amicus Certus in re incerta Cer­nitur, as the saying is.

Sir, Sir, let me speak one word with you; Ods-flesh, I'll dye the Death of a Dog, and aw these yeow seen here, be not Rogues, Cheats, and Pick-pockets.

Peace, you Rascal; Adad I would not have any of em hear for five hundred pounds; you were a dead man.

What is the reason they dare not stir out of this pri­viledg'd place, but on Sabbath-days.

You Blockhead, Mr. Cheatly had an Aldermans young Wife run away with him, is sued for't, and is in fear of a substantial Jury of City Cuckolds. Shamwells unnatural Father lays wait for him, to apprehend him and run him into the Country. The Brave and Valiant Gentleman, Captain Hackum, who is as stout as a Lyon, beat a Judges Son t'other day. And now your questions are fully answer'd, you Put you.

Honest Shamwell, thou art a rare fellow: Thy Co­zen here is the wealthiest Caravan we have met with a long time; the hopefullest Sealer that ever yet toucht Wax among us: But we must take off that evil Counsellor of His.

I warrant you.

Oh Cozen, here's your Tailor, with your Clothes and Liveries, Hatter, Shooe-ma­ker, Perriwig-maker.

All your moveables together; go into your Lodging and sit them: your new Footmen, and your French Valet de Chambre are there, I'll wait on you there presently.

Odsflesh, here's whaint wark: By'r Lady this is fine! whaw whaw!

Get you in, you Rogue: An you mutter one word more, adad I'll mince you, Sirrah: Well, go in all of you. Gentlemen, I shall see you presently.

Immediately: Let us hugg our selves, my dear Ras­cal, in this adventure you have done very well to engage him last night in an Out-rage; and we must take care to put him upon all the expence we can: We must reduce him to have as much need of us as possible.

Thou art i'th' right: But Captain, where's the Con­venient, the Natural?

Why at my House: my Wife has wrought her into a good humour: She is very pretty; and is now pleas'd to think the Squire will be a better Keeper than her former; for he was but a Sharper, a Tatmonger, and when he wanted Mony would kick and beat her most immoderately.

Well: I'll say that for the Captains Wife, she's as good an able Discreet Woman to carry on an Intrigue, as e're a Woman in the Fryers! Nay better.

Your Servant good Mr. Shamwell; she's a very good Woman thanks be to Heaven, I have great comfort in her; she has a Cup of the best Cherry-Brandy in the Friers.

And commonly a good Whore to boot: But prithee Captain, go home and let her and the young Girl prepare to Dine with us; we must have a great Dinner and Fidlers at the George, to season the Squire in his new Equipage.

Well, well, it shall be done.

You'l find this Fellow a necessary Tool in Consort with his Wife, who is, indeed, a Bawd of parts: He is a good Ruffian enough: For tho he be not stout, he's impudent, and will roar and keep a filthy pother, which is enough to make Fools believe he's stout.

Let him, and the small Fry pick up the Squires loose Crums, While we share in the lusty Summs.

Oh here comes Mr. Scrapeall with all his Zeal; our godly Accomplice in all designs; leave him to me.

Oh Mr. Scrapeall! Have you brought the money for the Squire?

I come to tell you that my man approacheth with the Money and the Goods for your Squire.

I hope you have not burden'd him with too many Goods at first?

No: But a fourth part: 'Tis true the Goods are somewhat stale, but I will take them off at small under rates: You know I am not seen in furnishing of the Goods and Mony, but only in the buying of the Goods. My Lawyer accompa­nieth my Man to testifie the Writings.

'Tis as it should be: He is a fat Squire; the Estate in Tail is full 3000l. a year. He will yeild well.

This Squire is to take to Wife a Niece I have in Charge: His Father is to give me 5000l. out of her Fortune; and the Squires Leudness and Prodigality will soon let me deep into his Reversion. Besides his lighting into these hands, will make his Father, when he finds it, hasten to agree with me for his Redemption; I like the business well. I am go­ing to the man you call Crump, who helpeth Sollicitors to Affidavit-men, and Swearers, and Bail.

His Office is next door; his Wardrobe for Bail and Witnesses. Here he comes; let's meet him.

Sure I should know the Face of that Fellow, that's going there into White-Friers.

'Tis a most Notorious one; you have seen him often, [Page 11] this that most audacious Rogue, Cheatly; who has drawn in so many young Heirs, and undone so many Sealers: He is a Bolter of White-Friers.

It is that Villain!

I am very glad Sir, you have dispatcht your business so soon in Holland.

I had great success, and finished all six Weeks at least e're I expected; and had time to come by the way of Flanders, and see that Country which I desired: And from Newport I came to Dover; and riding Post from thence, I took a Boat at Southwark, and landed just now here at the Temple: But I am troubled you had sent my Packet to Holland e're I came.

I receiv'd none from you of late: No Packet has arriv'd this Fortnight from Holland.

Have you heard no News from my Son, nor my Steward in the Country?

None these ten or twelve days.

That Son is all the joy of my life; for him I hurry up and down, take pains, spare and live hard to raise his Fortune.

Indeed, I hear he's a fine Gentleman, and understands his Country affairs as well as e're a Farmer of them all.

I must confess he proves after my own Heart: He's a solid Young man, a Dutiful Child as ever man had, and I think I have done well for him in providing him a Wife with such a Fortune, which he yet knows nothing of. But will not this Godly Man, this Mr. Scrapeall, take a Farthing less say you for his Niece?

Not a sowce: I have higgled with him as if I were to buy of a Horse-courser, and he will not take a farthing less than 5000 l. for his Neece.

He's a strange Mixture, a perpetual Sermon-hunter, repeats and sings Psalms continually, and prays so loud and ve­hemently, that he is a Disturbance to his Neighbours; he is so Heavenward Pious, and seems a very Saint of a Scrivener.

He finds the sweet of that, it gets him many a good Trust and Executorship.

Pox on him for a Damned godly knave, forsooth, can­not he be contented to sell her, whom his own Brother committed to his Charge; but he must extort so much for her? well I must [Page 12] agree with him: I know she has full 20000 l. left her: And has bin brought up as strictly as my Son: Get writings ready: I'le send Post for my Son Timothy this Day.

They are ready; you may Seal in the afternoon if you please.

And I will then. I'll detain you no longer: get my Writings ready: I am resolv'd to settle my other Boy well: But my Town Son afflicts me when e're I hear him nam'd.

Your humble Servant Sir Will. Belfond.

Sir, I have been at your Brothers house, and they say he is come to some Lawyers Chamber in the Kings-Bench-build­ings.

That's lucky enough: I'll walk here then, and do you watch.

Who are these? Some Inhabitants of White-Fryers; some Bullies of Alsatia.

I was plaguy Bowsy last night with Squire Belfond: We had Fiddles, Whores, Scour'd, broke Windows, beat Watches, and roar'd like Thunder.

Ay, I heard you?

What says he?

He Drinks, Whores, Swears, Sings, Roars, Rants and Scours with the best of us.

Sir, with your favour, are you acquainted with young Belfond?

Yes, that I am. What Country Putt's this?

What Country-man is he Sir?

Prithee, old Prigster, why dost ask? He is a Northern man: He has a damn'd Rustick, miserable Rascal to his Father, who lives a nasty brutal life in the Country like a Swine: But the Squire will be even with him I warrant him.

I have something to say to him if I could see him.

You, you old Prigg, you damn'd Country Putt: You have somewhat to say to him! I am ready to give you satisfacti­on: Lugg out; come you Putt: I'll make you Scamper.

Dee hear Bully Rascal, put up and walk your way, or by Heaven I'll beat you as long as you are able to be beaten.

I'll stand by you: You may easily beat this old fellow.

No man e're gave me such words, but forfeited his life; I could whip thee through the Lungs immediately: But I'll de­sist at present. Who the Devil would have thought this Putt durst have drawn a Sword? Well Sir we shall take a time Sir, another time Sir.

You lye, you Rascal; you will take no time. Here's a fine Companion of my Sons!

Who's this I see? my Brother! Sir William Belfond! Your humble Servant. You are welcome into England. I look'd not for you these six weeks.

I landed at the Temple-stairs even now: My man has been at your House, and he heard there you were here.

I hope you have done your business.

Beyond my Expectation.

Has your Wives Brother done by you in his Will, as you would have had him.

Truly yes: He has made me sole Executor, and left my two Sons 5000 l. apiece, to be paid at each of their days of Marriage, or at my Death.

Well Brother, you are a happy man; for Wealth flows in upon you on every side, and Riches you account the greatest happiness.

I find that Wealth alone will not make happy. Ah Brother, I must confess it was a kindness in you, when Heaven had blest you with a great Estate by Merchandize, to adopt my Younger Son, and take him and breed him from his Childhood: But you have been so gentle to him, he is run into all manner of Vice and Riot; no bounds can hold him; no shame can stop him; no Laws nor Customs can restrain him.

I am confident you are mistaken: He has as fair a Reputation as any Gentleman about London: 'Tis true, he's a good fellow, but no Sot; he loves mirth and society, without Drunkenness: He is, as all young Fellows I believe are, given to Women; but 'tis in private; and he is particular: no Com­mon Whore-master: and in short, keeps as good Company as any man in England.

Your over-weening makes you look through a false Glass upon him. Company! why he keeps Company for the [Page 14] Devil: Had you come a minute sooner, you might have seen two of his Companions; they were praising him for Roaring, Swearing, Ranting, Scouring, Whoring, beating Watches, breaking Windows: I but ask'd one of em if he knew him, and said I had somewhat to say to him; the Rogue, the most seem­ing terrible of the two, told me, If I had any thing to say to Squire Belfond, he would give me satisfaction.

What kind of fellow?

He came out of White-Fryers: He's some Alsatian Bully.

'Tis impossible; he never keeps such Company.

The Rogue drew upon me: bid me Lugg out, call'd me Old Prigg, Country Put; and spoke a particular Language which such Rogues have made to themselves, call'd Canting, as Beggars, Gipsies, Thieves and Jayl-Birds do: But I made his Bullies go away very tamely at the sight of my drawn Sword.

I am sure he keeps no such Company: it must be some other of his Name.

You make me mad to excuse him thus: The Town rings of him; You have ruin'd him by your Indulgence: Be­sides, he throws away Money like Dirt; his Infamy is notorious.

Infamy: Nay there you wrong him; he does no un­gentleman-like things: Prithee consider Youth a little: What if he does Wench a little; and now and then is somewhat extra­vagant in Wine? Where's the great Crime? All young fellows that have mettle in em will do the first; and if they have wit and good humour in em, in this drinking Country, they will sometimes be forc'd upon the latter: And he must be a very dull phlegmatick Lump, whom Wine will not elevate to some Extra­vagance now and then.

Will you distract me? What are Drinking and Whoring no faults? His courses will break my heart; they bring Tears into my Eyes so often.

One would think you had been Drinking and were maudling: Think what we our selves did when we were young fellows: You were a Spark, would Drink, Scour and Wench with the best o'th' Town.

Ay, but I soon repented, married and settled.

And turn'd as much to the other extreme: And now [Page 15] perhaps I mislike these faults, caus'd by his heat of Youth. But how do you know he may not be reclaim'd suddenly?

Reclaim'd? How can he be reclaim'd without seve­rity? You should Cudgel him, and allow him no Money: make him not dare to offend you thus. Well, I have a Son whom by my strictness I have form'd according to my heart: He never puts on his Hat in my presence; Rises at second Course, takes away his Plate; says Grace, and saves me the Charge of a Chap­lain. When ever he committed a fault, I maul'd him with Cor­rection: I'd fain see him once dare to be extravagant: No, he's a good Youth, the Comfort of my Age; I weep for joy to think of him. Good Sir, learn to be a Father of him that is one: I have a Natural Care of him.

You are his Father by Nature, I by Choice: I took him when he was a Child, and bred him up with gentleness, and that kind of Conversation that has made him my friend: He conceals nothing from me, or denies nothing to me. Rigour makes nothing but Hypocrites.

Perhaps when you begin late; but you should have been severe to him in his Childhood: abridg'd him of Liberty and Money: and have had him soundly whipp'd often: he would have blest you for it afterwards.

Too much streightness in the minds of Youths, like too much lacing the Body, will make em grow Crooked.

But no lacing at all, will make them swell and grow Monsters.

I must govern by Love. I had as leive govern a Dog as a Man if it must be by fear: This I take to be the diffe­rence between a good Father to Children, and a harsh Master over Slaves.

Yes, and see what your government is come to; his Vice and Prodigality will distract me.

Why should you be so concern'd? He is mine, is he not?

Yes, by Adoption, but he is mine by Nature.

'Tis all but Custom.

Mine is a tender Care.

Your passion blinds you: I have as tender care as you can have: I have been ever delighted with him from his [Page 16] Childhood: He is endear'd to me by long custom and familiari­ty. I have had all the pleasure of a Father, without the drudge­ry of getting a Son upon a damn'd Wife, whom perhaps I should wish hang'd.

And will you let him run on in his Lewdness and Prodigality?

He is mine: If he offends, 'tis me: If he squanders away Money, 'tis mine; and what need you care? Pray take care of your own: If you will take care of this too, what do you but take him from me?

This you come to always! I take him from you: No, I'd not be troubled with him. Well, let him run on, and be ru­in'd, hang'd and and damn'd— I'll never speak word more about him. Let him go on.

This heat of youth will be allay'd e're long I warrant you.

No, no, let him go on, let him go on; I'll take care of my own at home: and happy were this Rake-hell if he would take Example by his Brother: But I say no more; I ha done; let him go on.

Now you are angry, your passion runs away with you.

No no, I have done; what would you have more?

Let us go and see him: I'll lay my life you'll find him perusing some good Author; he ever spends his whole morning in study.

I must into the City, the first thing I do, and get my Bills accepted; and then if you will we'll see him: and no doubt but we shall find him perusing of some Whore or other, instead of a Book.

I am not of your Opinion: I at I'll carry you in my Coach into the City, and then bring you back to him: He is of so good a disposition: So much a Gentleman: And has such worth and honour, that if you knew him as well as I, you'd love him as well as I do.

Well, well, I hear you Sir: I must send for my Son Post: I'll show you a Son. Well, Heaven bless him, I should be weary of this wicked World: but for the Comforts I find in him: Come along, I'll shew you a Son.

WHY dost thou sigh? and show such sadness in thy looks? My pretty Miss.

Have I not reason?

Dost thou mislike thy entertainment?

Ah Cruel Belfond, thou hast undone me.

My pretty little Rogue, I sooner wou'd undo my self a thousand times.

How I tremble to think what I ha done! I have made my self for ever miserable.

Oh say not so, dear Child: I'll kiss those tears from off thy Beauteous Eyes. But I shall wrong thy Cheeks, on which they fall like precious drops of dew on flowers.

Heaven! what have I done?

No more than what thy Mother did before thee: No more than thy whole Sex is born to do.

Oh had I thought you wou'd have been so Cruel, I ne­ver would have seen your face; I swear I would not.

I swear thou would'st, I know thou woul'dst: Cruel! no Billing Turtle e're was kinder to his tender Mate; in Billing, Cooing, and in gentle Murmurs, we exprest our kindness; and Coo'd and Murmur'd and Lov'd on.

The more unhappy Fool was I: go go, I hate you now.

Oh my sweet little one; thou canst not sure be so unkind: Those pretty Tell-tales of thy heart, thy Eyes, say bet­ter things.

Do they so? I'll be reveng'd on em for't: For they shall never see you more.

Ah say not so; I had rather much the Sun should [Page 18] never shine on me; than thou be hidden from my sight: thou art not sure in earnest?

Yes sure, I think I am.

No, my sweet Love, I think thou art not.

Oh Lord, how shall I look! How shall I bear my self! if any of my Friends shall fix their Eyes upon me, I shall look down and blush, and think they know all.

How many fair ones daily do the same, and look demurely as any Saints?

They are Confident things I warrant em.

Let Love be made familiar to thee, and thou wilt bear it better: Thou must see me every day. Canst thou be so hard-hearted to forbear the sight of me?

Perhaps I may desire now and then a look, a sight of thee at some distance: But I will never venture to come near thee more I vow.

Let me kiss that Vow from off thy lips, while 'tis warm there. I have it here: 'Tis gone. Thou wilt not kill me sure? Didst thou not say thou lov'dst me?

Yes, I lov'd too much; or this had never happen'd: I could not else have been undone.

Undone; thou art made: Woman is but half a Creature, till she be joyn'd to man; now thou art whole and perfect.

Wicked man! Can I be so confident once to come near thee more?

Shouldst thou but fail one day, I never shou'd survive it; and then my Ghost will haunt thee. Canst thou look on me, pretty Creature, and talk thus?

Well, go thy ways; that flattering Tongue, and those Bewitching Eyes were made to ruine Womankind.

Could I but think thou wert in earnest, these Arms should clasp thee ever here: I'd never part with thee.

No no, now I must be gone: I shall be mist: How shall I get home and not be known? Sure every body will discover me?

Thy Mask will cover all: There is a Chair below [Page 19] in the Entry to carry thee, and set thee down where thou wilt.

Farewell, Dear Cruel man! And must I come to morrow morning say you? No no.

Yes yes; to morrow and to morrow, and every morning of our lives; I dye else.

Sir your Singing-Master is coming.

My Singing Master, Mr. Solfa is coming.

O Lord hide me! He is my Master, he'll know me! I shall not be able to go by him for trembling.

Pretty Miss, into the Closet: I'll dispatch him soon.

Come Master, let your Daughter sing the Song you promis'd me.

Come Betty. Please to put in a Flute Sir.

Come on.

'Tis very easie and natural: Your Daughter sings delicately.

Belfond, good morrow to thee: I see thou still tak'st care to melt away thy hours in soft delights.

Honest Truman! All the pleasures and diversions we can invent, are little enough to make the Farce of Life go down.

And yet what a Coil they keep: How busie and industri­ous are those who are reckon'd grave and wise, about this Life, as if there were something in it.

Those Fools are in earnest, and very solid; they think there's something in't, while Wise men know there's no­thing to be done here but to make the best of a bad Market.

You are mighty Philosophical this morning. But shall I not hear one Song as well as you?

Have you set that Ode in Horace?

I have.

Then I hope you will be encourag'd to set more of em; we then shall be sure of Wit and Musick together: While you great Musicians do often take most pains about the silliest words. Prithee Truman sing it.

Very well; you have oblig'd me: Please to accept of this. And Madam, you shall give me leave to shew my gra­titude by a small Present.

Your Servant Sir.

You are so immoderately given to Music; methinks it should justle Love out of your thoughts.

Oh no! Remember Shakespear; If Musick be the Food of Love, Play on—There's nothing nourishes that soft passion l [...]ke it, it imps his Wings, and makes him fly a higher pitch. But prithee tell me what news of our dear Mistresses? I never yet was so sincerely in Love as with my pretty Hypocrite; There is Fire in those Eyes that strikes like Lightning: What a constant Church-man she has made of me?

And mine has made an entire Conquest of me: 'Tis the most charming pretty Creature, that e're my Eyes beheld.

Let us not fall out, like the Heroes in the Rehearsal, for not being in Love with the same Woman.

Nothing could be so fortunate as our difference in this case: The only one we disagree in.

Thou art in the right: Mine has so charm'd me, I am content to abandon all other pleasures, and live alone for her; she has subdu'd me even to Marriage.

Mine has no less vanquish'd me; I'll render upon discre­tion. Ah Rogue Belfond, I see by your Bed, for all your Con­stant Love, you have had a Wench this night.

Peace peace, man: 'Tis dangerous to fast too long, for fearing of losing an appetite quite.

You are a sincere honest Lover indeed.

Faith Truman, we may talk of mighty matters; of our Honesty and Moraility; but a young Fellow carries that about him that will make him a Knave now and then in spite of his Teeth. Besides, I am afraid 'tis impossible for us prophane fel­lows to succeed in that Sanctify'd Family.

You will not say so, when you know what progress I have made in our affairs already.

Thou reviv'st my drooping hopes: Tell me, are we like to succeed! Oh if I can but prevail upon my little pretty Churchwoman, I am resolv'd to conform to her for ever.

Look under my Coat: Am I not well habited? with a plain Band, Bob Peruke, and no Cuffs.

Verily, like one of the pure ones.

Yea; and our frequenting of Sermons and Lectures, (which [Page 22] Heaven knows we did out of no good, but for the sake of these little ones) has us'd me to their stile: Thus qualify'd, I got access into the House, having found that their Governante is Sister to a Weaver in the West, whom I know; I pretended to be her Cousin, and to bring a Token sent to her by her Brother, and was very welcome to her.

Most fortunate: Why does he keep em so strictly? Never to see the face of Man?

Be not troubled at that, 'twill forward our design; they'll be the more earnest to be deliver'd. But no Italian Women are so closely confin'd; the pure Knave intends to sell em: Even his Daughter, who has a good Fortune left her by a Widow, that was her Aunt: And for his Neece, he has as good as agreed al­ready with your Father for 5000 l. to marry her to your Brother in the Country: Her Unkle gave her 20000 l. and this is the reason of Confining em; for fear of losing the Money.

With my Father say ye?

Most certain: This I learnt out of Madam Governante, at the first enterview.

This is a very odd Accident: 'Twill make my diffi­culty greater.

Not at all: As Lyers are always readiest to believe Lyes, I never knew an Hypocrite but might easily be cozen'd by ano­ther Hypocrite. I have made my way, and I warrant thee a good event. I intend to grow great with the Father.

Thy Sanguine temper makes thee always hope in every Enterprize.

You might observe, whenever we star'd upon em, they would steal a look at us; by stealth have often twisted Eye-beams with us.

The sowre and devout look indeed seems but put on: There is pretty warmth and tenderness in their Eyes, that now and then gilds o're the godly look; like the Suns light, when breaking through a Cloud, it swiftly glides upon a Field of Corn.

The Air of their Faces plainly show they have Wit, that must despise those trifling forms; their precise looks most surely are constrain'd.

How, Madam Termagant here! then we shall have fine work. What wind blows you hither.

How dare you think that I of all womankind should be us'd thus?

You mean not us'd; that's your Grievance.

Good Mr. Disdain; I shall spoyl your scoffing: Has my Love deserv'd to be thus slighted? I that have refus'd Princes for your sake? Did not all the Town court me? And must I choose such an ungrateful Wretch?

When you were first in season, you were a little courted by some of Quality: Mistresses, like Green Pease, at first coming are only had by the Rich, but afterwards they come to every Body.

Curse on your sawcy similes: Was not I yours, and on­ly yours.

I had not faith enough for that; but if you were, I never had any that was mine and only mine, but I made em all mankinds before I had done.

Ah Traytor! And you must pick me out to make this base Example of: Must I be left?

Left! Yes sure, Left! Why you were not marry'd to me: I took no Lease of your frail Tenement: I was but Tenant at my own will.

Insolent! How dare you thus provoke my Fury? Was ever Womans Love like mine to thee? Persidious man!

So: after the Thunder, thus the heat drops fall.

No; I scorn that thou shouldst bring Tears into my Eyes.

Why do you come to trouble me?

Since I can please no longer, I'll come to plague thee; and if I dye before thee, my Ghost shall haunt thee.

Indeed your Love was most particular with spitting and scratching, like Caterwauling: And in the best of humours you were ever murmuring and complaining: Oh my Head akes: I am so sick: And Jealous to madness too.

Oh Devil incarnate!

Belfond, thou art the most ungentle Knight alive.

Methinks the pretty Child I have had by you should make you less inhumane.

Let me have it; I'll breed it up.

No, thou shalt never have it while thou livest. I'll pull it Limb from Limb e're thou shalt have it.

This is so unnatural, that you will make me so far from thinking it mine, that I shall not believe it yours: But that you have put a false Child upon me.

Unworthy Wretch.

When thou art old enough, thy malice and ill hu­mour will qualifie thee for a Witch; but thou hadst never Douceurs enough in thy Youth to fit thee for a Mistress.

How dare you provoke me thus? For what little Dirty Wench am I thus us'd? If she be above ground I'll find her, and tear her Eyes out. Hah—By the Bed I see the Devil has been here to night—Oh oh, I cannot bear it.

Belfond, help the Lady for shame; lay hold on her.

No no, let her alone; she will not hurt herself I warrant thee: She is a rare Actor: She acts a fit of the Mother the best of any one in England. Ha ha ha.

How canst thou be so cruel?

What a Devil should I do? if a man lies once with a Woman, is he bound to do it for ever?

Oh oh.

Very well saith: Admirably well acted.

Is it so? Devil, Devil: i'll spoil your Point de Venice for you.

Will you force me to make my Footman turn you out?

Sir, Your Father and your Unkle are coming hither.

Sdeath my Father! 'Tis impossible.

By Heaven 'tis true; they are coming up by this time.

Look you Madam, you may if you will ruine me; and put me out of all means of doing for you or your Child: Try me once more, and get into the Bed and cover your self with the Quilt, or I am undone.

Villain, you deserve to be ruin'd: But I love my Child too well.

For Heavens sake hide your self in the Bed quickly.

No no, I'll run into the Closet.

Death and Hell! I am ruin'd: There's a young Girl there; she'll make yet a worse uproar.

Peace, let me alone. Madam, whatever happens, ruine not your self and Child inevitably.

Ned, good morrow to thee.

Your Blessing Sir.

Heaven bless thee. Here's one unexpected.

My Father! I beg your Blessing Sir.

Heaven mend you: it can never bless you in the leud course you are in.

You are misinform'd Sir; my courses are not so leud as you imagine.

Do you see; I am misinform'd: He'll give me the lye.

I would first bite my Tongue in pieces, and spit it at you: Whatever little heats of Youth I have been guilty of, I doubt not but in a short time to please you fully.

Well said Ned: I dare swear thou wilt.

Good Brother Credulous: I thank Heaven I am not so. You were not drunk last night with Bullies, and roar'd and ranted, scour'd, broke Windows, beat the Watch, broke open a House, and forc'd away a Wench in Salisbury-Court. This is a fine life. These he calls heats of Youth.

I was at home by Eight a Clock last night, and supp'd at home; and never keep such Company.

No no; you are not call'd Squire Belfond by the Scoundrels your Companions? 'Twas not you: No no.

Not I upon my faith; I never keep such Company or do such actions: If any one should call me Squire I'd break his Head: Some Rascal has usurp'd my Name.

Look you Brother, what would you have? This must be some mistake.

What a Devil! You believe this too? Ounds! you make me mad! Is there any of our Name in England but our selves? Does he think to flam me with a Lye?

I scorn a Lye, 'tis the basest thing a Gentleman can be guilty of: All my Servants can testifie I stirr'd not out last night.

I assure you Sir, he was not abroad last night.

You assure me! Who are you? one of his hopeful Companions! No, your Clothes are not good enough, you may be his Pimp.

You are the Father of my Friend, an old Gentleman, and a little mad.

Old! Walk down; I'll try your youth: I'll fight with the bravest Ruffian he keeps company with.

Brother! Are you mad? Has the Country robb'd you of all good manners, and common sense?

I had a Bout with two of your Bullies in the Tem­ple-walks.

Whom does he mean? This is a Gentleman of Estate and Quality; He has above 2000 l. a year.

You are a mad man: I am asham'd of you. Sir, I beseech you pardon my Brothers Passion, which transports him beyond Civility.

I know you will for my sake.

He is the Father of my dearest Friend; I shall be glad to serve him.

Will you never be of age of Discretion? For shame use me, your Son, and every Body better.

Well, I must be run down like a tame Puppy.

Murder, murder; Help, help; ah, ah!

Oh this damn'd She Devil.

I'll make you an Example: Will you see him whether I will or no, you young Whore!

Here's a Son! Here's a fine Son! Here's your breed­ing! Here's a pretty Son! Here's a delicate Son! Here's a dainty Son!

If he be mad, will you be madder?

Turn out this She Bear; turn her out to the Rabble!

Revenge, you Villain, Revenge.

Dear Friend, prithee see this innocent Girl safe in the Chair, from that outragious Strumpets fury.

Here's a Son, here's a Son! Very well; make much of him: Here's the effect of Whoring.

No Sir, 'tis the effect of not Whoring: This Rage is because I have cast her off.

Yes yes, for a younger; a sweet Reformation! Let me not see your Face, nor hear you speak; you will break my heart.

Sir, the young Girl was never here before; she brought me Linnen from the Exchange.

A fine Bawd her Mistress in the mean time.

This furious Wench coming in to rail at me for my leaving her, I was forc'd to put the other into that Closet, and at your coming up, against my will, this run into the same Closet.

Sirrah, most audacious Rogue, do you sham me? Do you think you have your Unkle to deal with? Avoid my presence Sirrah: Get you out Sirrah.

I am sorry I offended: I obey.

I could have found in my heart to have Cudgell'd him.

Shame of our Family; you behave your self so like a Mad-man and a Fool, you will be begg'd: These fits are more extravagant than any thing he can be guilty of. Do you give your Son the words of Command you use to Dogs?

Justifie him, do! He's an excellent Son! a very pretty Son! a delicate Son! a virtuous Son! a discreet Son! he is.

Pray use me better, or I'll assure you, we must ne­ver see one another. Besides, I shall entail my Estate for want of Issue by this Son here, upon another Family, if you will treat me thus.

What says he?

Well Brother I ha done: His lewdness distracted me! Oh my poor Boy in the Country; I long to see him, the great support of my declining Age.

Let us calmly reason: What has your breeding made of him (with your Patience) but a Blockhead?

A Blockhead! When he comes the World shall judge which of us has been the wiser in the Education of a Son: A Blockhead? Why he knows a sample of any Grain as well as e're a fellow in the North: Can handle a Sheep or Bullock as [Page 28] well as any one: Knows his seasons of Plowing, Sowing, Har­r [...]wing, laying fallow: Understands all sorts of Manure: And ne're a one that wears a Head can wrong him in a Bargain.

A very pretty fellow, for a Gentlemans Baily.

For his own Baily, and to be a rich —

Swine, and live as nastily; and keep worse Compa­ny than Beasts in a Forrest.

He knows no Vice, poor Boy.

He will have his turn to know it then; as sure as he will have the Small Pox; and then he'll be fond on't, when his Brother has lest it.

I defy the Omen: he never Whores, nor Drinks hard▪ but upon design, as driving a Bargain, or so; and that I allow him.

So: Knavish and designing Drunkenness you allow; but not good fellowship for mirth and conversation.

Now Brother, pray what have you made your Son good for, with your breeding you so much boast of? Let's hear that now: Come on, let's hear.

First, I bred him at Westminster-School, till he was Master of the Greek and Latin Tongues; then I kept him at the University, where I instructed him to read the Noble Greek and Roman Authors.

Well, and what use can he make of the Noble Greek and Latin, but to prate like a Pedant, and shew his parts over a Bottle?

To make a man fit for the Conversation of Learned Gentlemen is one noble end of Study: But those Authors make him wiser and honester, Sir, to boot.

Wiser! Will he ever get Six-pence, or improve or keep his Estate by em?

Mean Notions: I made him weil vers'd in History.

That's a pretty study indeed: How can there be a true History, when we see no man living is able to write truly the History of the last week?

He by the way read Natural Philosophy, and had insight enough in the Mathematicks.

Natural Philosophy! knows nothing: Nor would I [Page 29] give a sart for any Mathematician, but a Carpenter, Bricklayer, Measurer of Land, or Sailor.

Some moderate skill in it will use a man to reason closely.

Very pretty: Reason! Can he Reason himself into six Shillings by all this?

He needs it not: But to go on; after three years I remov'd him from the University (lest he should have too strong a tincture of it) to the Temple; there I got a modest learned Lawyer, of little practice, for want of Impudence; and there are several such that want, while empty impudent fellows thrive and swagger at the Bar: This man I got to instruct my Son in some old Common Law Books, the Statutes, and the best Pleas of the Crown, and the Constitution of the old true English Government.

Does he get a Shilling by all this? But what a Devil made you send him into France, to make an arrant vain Cox­comb of him?

There he did all his manly Exercises; saw two Campaigns; studied History; Civil Laws, and Laws of Com­merce; the Language he spoke well e're he went. He made the Tour of Italy, and saw Germany, and the Low Countries, and return'd well skill'd in Foreign Affairs, and a Compleat accom­plish'd English Gentleman.

And to know nothing of his own Estate, but how to spend it: my poor Boy has travell'd to better purpose: for he has travell'd all about my Lands, and knows every Acre and Nook, and the value of it: There's travel for you! Poor Boy.

And he enjoys so little of that Estate he sees, as to be impatient for your Death: I dare swear mine wishes my Life, next to his own. I have made him a Compleat Gentleman, fit to serve his Country in any Capacity.

Serve his Country! Pox on his Country: 'Tis a Country of such Knaves, 'tis not worth the serving: All those who pretend to serve it, mean nothing but themselves. But amongst all things, how came you to make him a Fiddler, always Fluting or Scraping? I had as leive hear a Jews-Harp.

I love Musick: Besides I would have young Gentle­men have as many helps to spend their time alone as can be; [Page] most of our Youth are ruin'd by having Time lye heavy on their hands, which makes them run into any base Company to shun themselves.

And all this Gentlemans Education is come to Drink­ing, Whoring and Debauchery.

Sir, Mr. Scrapeall is at your Attorneys Chamber in the Temple, and desires to discourse you.

Brother, I must go: I shall tell you when I see you next, what is my Business with him.

Be sure to Dine with me.

I will —

Now thou look'st like an Heir indeed, my Lad: when thou cam'st up thou hadst the Scurvy Phiz of a meer Country Put— He did thee a kindness that took thee for a Chief Constable.

Now thou shinest, Cousin, like a true Belfond! What 3000 l. a year entailed, and live like a Butcher, or Grazier, in the Country?

Give you joy, noble Sir, now you look like a true Gal­lant Squire.

Like a Squire, like a Puppy by th' Mass: Odsflesh, what will the awd man say; he'll be stark wood.

Well, I was the fortunat'st man to light upon such true, such real Friends: I had never known any Breeding or Gentility without you.

You buried all your good parts in a sordid Swinish life in the North.

My Father kept me in ignorance, and would have made a very silly Blockheadly Put of me: Why, I never heard a Gentleman Banter, or cut a Sham in my life before I saw you, nor ever heard such ingenious Discourse.

Nay, the World knows Mr. Cheatly, and Mr. Shamwell, are as Compleat Gentlemen as ever came within the Fryers: And yet we have as fine Gentlemen as any in England; we have those here who have broke for a 100000 l.

Well, I protest and vow, I am so very fine, I do not know where to look upon my self first: I don't think my Lord Mayor's Son is finer.

He is a Scoundrel compar'd to thee: There's ne'r a Prigg at Court out-shines thee. Thou shalt strut in the Park, where Countesses shall be enamour'd on thee.

I am overjoy'd: I can stand no ground: My dear friend Cheatly! My sweet Cousin Shamwell! Let me embrace such dear, such loving friends: I could grow to you, methinks, and stick here for ever.

Ah! Dear loving Dogs! They love him by'r Lady, as a Cat loves a Mause.

What's that you mutter, Sirra? Come hither, Sirra! you are finer than any Squire in the Country.

Pox of finery, I say; yeow maken a meer Ass, an Owl o' mee: Here are Sleeves sit for nought but a Miller to steule with when he takes Tole: and damn'd Cuffs here, one cannot dip ones Meat ith Sawce for them: Odsflesh, give me my awd Cloths againe; would I were a whome in my Frock, dressing of my Geldings; poor Titts, they wanten me dearly, I warrant a.

Well, there's no making a Whistle of a Pigs Tail; This Puppy will never learn any breeding. Sirrah, behold me: here's Rigging for you; Here's a Nabb: you never saw such a one in your life.

A rum Nab: it is a Beaver of 5 l.

Look you there Blockhead.

Look yeow there Blockhead I say.

Let me see your Porker: Here's a Porker; here's a Tilter: Hah ha. Oh how I could whip a Prigster through the Lungs! Ha ha.

It cost sixteen Louydors in Paris.

Ha, ha.

Hawd you, hawd you: And I tak kibbo, I'st raddle the Bones o' thee; Ise tell a that: for aw th'art a Captain mun.

Look Sirrah, here's a show you Rogue: Here's a sight of Cole, Darby, the Ready, and the Rhino, you Rascal, you understand me not; you Loggerhead, you silly Put, you under­stand me not: Here are Meggs and Smelts: I ne're had such a sight of my own in my life. Here are more Meggs and Smelts, you Rogue; you understand me not.

By'r Lady not I: I understand not this South-Country speech not I.

Ah methinks I could tumble in em. But dee hear Putt, Putt, Putt, Sirrah. Here's a Scout: What's a Clock? what's a Clock Sirrah. Here's a Tatler; Gold, all Gold, you Rogue. Look on my finger Sirrah, look here: Here's a Famble, Putt, Putt: You don't know what a Famble, a Scout or a Tatler is, you Putt.

Fine sights for my awd Master! Marry woud I were sent from Constable to Constable, and whipt whom again by'r Lady,

Let's whett: bring some Wine. Come on: I love a Whett: Pray let's huzza: I love huzzaing mightily: But where's your Lady, Captain, and the Blowing, that is to be my Natural ▪ my Convenient, my Pure.

They'r just coming in. Come Betty.

Come in Mrs. Margaret, come.

I am so asham'd.

Madam, your Servant; I am very much oblig'd to your favours.

I shall be proud to do a Gentleman, like you, any service that lies in my power, as a Gentlewoman.

Oh Lord, Madam, your most humble Servant to Command: My pretty Blowing let me kiss thee: Thou shalt be my Natural: I must manage thee. She is a Pure Blowing. My pretty Rogue—how happy shall I be? Pox o' the Country I say. Madam Hackum, to testify my gratitude, I make bold to Equip you with some Meggs, Smelts, Decus's and Georges.

I am your faithful Servant, and I shall be glad of any occasion, whereby to express how ready I am to serve any Gentleman, or person of Quality, as becomes a Gentlewoman; and upon honour Sir, you shall never find me tardy.

Come on Sirra, fill up all the Glasses; a Health to this pretty Lady.

Ay, and i'faith I'le drink it, pretty Rogue.

Let them be Facers.

Facers! What are those? Nay, give the Lady and the Captains Lady too.

No, I cannot drink, I am not dry.

Give it me.

There's a Facer for you.

Excellent adad! Come to our Facers.

It is the prettiest way of Drinking: Fill again, we'll have more Facers.

Ha Boys! the Musicians are come. Ha Boys, we'll sing, dance, roar, fling the house out of the Windows; and I will manage my pretty Natural, my pure Blowing here. Huzza: My dear Friends, Shamwell and Cheatly, I am transported! My pretty Natural: Kiss me, kiss me. Huzza.

Nay puh, you do so ruffle one things.

I'll ruffle thee more, my little Rogue, before I have done with thee. Well, I shall never make you amends, my dear Friends. Sirrah, Lolpoop, is not this better than the Coun­try, Sirrah? Give the Rogue a Facer to my Mistress. Come, fill about the Fucers. Come on, my Lads, stand to't. Huzza. I vow 'tis the prettiest way of Drinking, never stir!

So here's the Prog, here's the Dinner coming up; the Cloath's laid in the next room: Here's a noble Dinner.

Ha Boys, we'll sing and roar, and Huzza, like Devils.

Ounds! Who's here? my Father! Lolpoop, Lolpoop, hide me: give me my Ioseph. Let's sneak into the next Room.

Death! What shall we do? This is the Bully's Father.

Let me alone: I warrant you.

This is the old Fellow I had like to have had a Rubbers with in the morning.

Is he fallen into these hands? Nay, then he's utter­ly lost: His Estate is spent before he has it.

How now Prigg, what makes you come into our Room?

I would speak with Squire Belfond.

Here's no such man.

Oh Bully, are you there? and my ungracious kins­man too? would you bring my Son to the Gallows! you most notorious seducer of young heirs, I know you too. I warrant [Page 34] you I'll keep my dear Boy in the Country far enough from your Clutches. In short, I wou'd speak with my Rebellious Town-Son, who is here, and bespoke this great Dinner.

Why look you Sir, according to your Asser­tion of things doubtful in themselves; you must be forc'd to grant that whatsoever may be, may also as well not be, in their own essential differences and degrees.

What stuff's this? Where's my Son?

Your question consists of two terms: the one ubi, where: But of that I shall say nothing, because here is no Son, nor any thing belonging to you, to be the subject matter of de­bate, at this time; forasmuch as—

Do you hear me Sir, let me see my Son; and offer to Banter me, or Sham me once more, and I will cut your Throat, and Cudgel your brace of Cowards.

Nay, then 'tis time to take a course with you. Help, help; an Arrest, an arrest; a Baily, a Baily.

An Arrest, an Arrest.

You Dogs? Am I a Baily?

You shall be us'd like one, you old Prigg. An Arrest.

Impudent Dogs! I must run, or I shall be pull'd in pieces. Help, help, an Arrest, an Arrest.

AS I told you, I have had a Child by him; he is my Husband by Contract; and casts me off: Has dishonour'd me, and made me infamous. Shall you think to Game and Bully about the Town, and not vindicate the honour of your Family?

No man shall dare to dishonour our Family.

If you do not cut his Throat, you'll be kickt up and down for a Damn'd Coward: And besides you shall never see a penny of mine more.

I'll fight him an be above ground.

There, there's the Traytor, walking before his Unkles door: Be sure dispatch him: on, I'll withdraw.

Do you hear Sir, do you know Mrs. Termagant?

What makes you ask such a familiar question Sir?

I am her Brother.

Perhaps so: Well, I do? What then Sir?

Ours is as ancient a Family as any in England, tho perhaps unfortunate at present: The Termagants came in with the Conqueror.

It may be so: I am no Herald.

And do you think you shall dishonour this Family, and debauch my Sister unchastiz'd? you are contracted to her, and have lain with her.

Look you Sir, I see what you would be at: She's mad, and puts you upon this: Let me advise you, 'tis a foolish quarrel.

You debauch'd her, and have ruin'd her.

'Tis false; the silliest Coxcombly Beau in Town had the first of her.

You have had a Child by her.

Then I have added one to your Ancient Family that came in with the Normans: Prithee do not provoke me to take away one from it.

You are contracted to her; and if you will marry her I will save your life.

'Tis a Lye; I am not contracted to her: Be gone, urge me no more.

Draw.

Have at you.

Hold, hold: Oh my Son, my Son! What's the matter? my dear Son, art thou not hurt? let me see.

No Sir, not at all, dear Sir. Here take your Sword, and be gone: Next time you come to trouble me, I'll cut your throat.

What's the matter, dear Ned? This is about some Wench I warrant.

'Tis a Brother of that furious Wench you saw Sir; her violent Love is converted into hatred.

You young fellows will never get Knowledge but at your own cost; the Precepts of the old weigh nothing with you.

Your precepts have been ever sacred to me; and so shall your example be henceforward: You are the best of men; the best of Fathers: I have as much honour for you as I can have for humane Nature: And I love you ten thousand times above my life.

Dear Ned, thou art the greatest joy I have: And be­lieve thy Father, and thy Friend, there's nothing but Anxiety in Vice: I am not streight Lac'd; but when I was young, I ne'r knew any thing gotten by Wenching, but Duels, Claps, and Ba­stards: And every drunken fit is a short madness, that cuts off a good part of Life.

You have Reason Sir, and shall ever be my Oracle hereafter.

'Tis time now to take up, and think of being some­thing in the World: See then, my Son, tho thou shouldst not be over busie, to side with Parties and with Factions, yet that [Page 37] thou takest a care to make some figure in the World, and to su­stain that part thy Fortune, Nature, and thy Education fit thee for.

Your wise advice I'll strive to follow: But I must con­fess, I am most passionately in Love, and am with your consent, resolv'd to Marry: Tho' I will perish e'er I do't without it.

Be sure to know the humour of the Woman; you run a mighty hazard: But if you be valiant enough to venture, (which, I must confess, I never was.) I'll leave it to your own choice: I know you have so much honour, you will do nothing below your self.

I doubt not of your Approbation; but till I can be sure of obtaining her: Pardon me if I conceal her Name.

Your Father comes, retire a little within hearing, till I soften him somewhat: He is much mov'd, as he always is, I think.

Now Brother, as I was saying, I can convince you, your Son, your Darling, whom you long have foster'd in his Wickedness, is become the most profligate of all Rascals.

Still upon this Subject.

Tis very well; my Mouth must be stopt, and your Ears: 'Tis wondrous well. But I have had much ado to escape with life, from him, and his Notorious fellow Rogues: As I told you when I had found that the Rogue was with his Wicked As­sociates, at the George in White-Fryers; when they saw I was re­solv'd to see my Son, and was rough with 'em, Cheatly and his Rogues set up a Cry against me: An Arrest! A Baily: An Arrest: The Mobile, and all the Rakehells in the House, and thereabout the Streets assembled: I run, and they had a fair Course after me into Fleetstreet, thanks to the Vigour I have left, my Heels have sav'd my Life: Your Infamous Rogue would have suffered me to have been Sacrific'd to the Rabble.

Ha ha ha, very pretty i'faith; it runs very well: Can you tell it over again think you?

Ounds! Am I become your Scorn? Your Laughter?

Ned, You hear all this?

Yes; and am distracted to know the meaning of it.

Vile Parricide! Are you gotten here before me? You are monstrous nimble Sir.

By all the Powers of Heaven! I never was at the George in my Life.

Oh then they stay for you, you have not yet been there; you'll loose your Dinner, 'tis serv'd up—Vile Wretch.

All this is Cross purposes to me: I came to my Un­kle's House from my own Lodgings immediately; when you were pleas'd to banish me your presence, and here have been ever since.

Nay, he that will be a through Villain, must be a compleat Lyar: Were not you even now with your Associate Rascals at the George?

No, by Heaven! Nor was I ever in the Company of any of that Gang: I know their Infamy too well, to be acquaint­ed with their Persons.

I am not Drunk, nor Mad; but you will make me one of 'em.

These Rascals have gotten some body to Personate me; and are undoubtedly, carrying on some Cheat in my Name.

Brother it must be.

Yes, yes, no doubt it must be so: And I must be in a Dream all this while, I must!

You say your self, you did not see my Son there?

No, he was too nimble for me, and got out some back way, to be here before me; so to face down the truth.

I'll instantly go thither, and discover this Imposture, that I may suffer no longer for the faults of others.

Dine first: My Dinners ready.

Your pardon Sir, I will go instantly: I cannot rest till I have done my self right.

Let's in, and discourse of this matter: Brother, I must say this, I never took him in a Lye since he could speak.

Took him: No, nor ever will take him in any thing.

Let's in—and send your own Man with him.

It shall be so, tho' I am convinc'd already. Is there any of the Name but you, and I, and my two Sons in England?

Be pleas'd to send my Footmen out to me, Sir.

Have a care of a Quarrel, and bringing the Alsatians about your Ears. Come Brother.

Help, help, help.

Now I have found you, you little Whore—I'll make you an Example.

Oh Lord! Are you here! Save me, Save me, this Barba­rous Woman threatens to murder me for your sake.

Save thee, Dear Miss: That I would at the peril of my Life: No danger shou'd make me quit thee, Cannons, nor Bombs.

Damn'd false Fellow: I'll take a time to slit her Nose.

Oh Heaven! She'll kill me.

Thou Devil! In thy properest shape of Furious, and Malicious Woman: Resolve to leave off this Course this moment, or by Heaven I'll lay thee fast in Bedlam: Had'st thou fifty Bro­thers, I'd fight 'em all, in defence of this dear pretty Miss.

Dear kind Creature! This sweet Love of thine, methinks does make me valiant, and I fear her not so much.

Dear pretty Miss: I'll be thy safeguard.

Thou Falsest, Basest of thy Sex: Look to see thy Child sent thee in pieces, Bak'd in a Pie, for so I will.

Tho' thou hat'st every thing living besides thy self; yet thou hast too much tenderness for thy own person to bring it to the Gallows: Offer to follow us one step, and I'll set the Rab­ble upon thee: Come my dear Child.

Thou shalt be dogg'd; and I'll know who she is: Oh Revenge! Revenge! if thou dost not exceed, thou equall'st all the Extasies of Love.

Thus far our Matters go swimmingly: Our Squire is as Debauch'd, and Prodigal, as we can wish.

I told you, all England could not afford an Heir like this for our purpose, but we must keep him always hot.

That will be easie; we made him so Devilish Drunk the first two or three days, the least Bumper will warm his addle Head afresh at any time: He paid a great Fine; and may sit at a little Rent: I must be gone for a moment; our Suffolk Heir is [Page 40] Nabb'd, for a small Business; and I must find him some Sham-Bail: See the Captain performs his Charge.

Here he comes. See, Captain, you make that Blockhead Drunk, and do as we directed.

He's almost Drunk, and we are in readiness for him; the Squire is retir'd with his Natural, so fond.

'Tis well; about your business: I'll be with you soon.

Come on, Mr. Lolpoop: You and I'll be merry by our selves.

I must needs say Captain, yeow are a Civil Gentleman, but yeow han given me so many Bumpers: I am meet Drunken already.

Come on, I warrant you: Here's a Bumper to the Squire's Lady.

With all my Heart.

Oh Mrs. Betty, art thou come? I sent for this pretty Rogue to keep you Company: She's as pretty a Company-keeper as any's in the Friers.

Ods-flesh, what shou'd I do in Company with Gentlewo­men: 'Tis not for such Fellee's as I.

Have Courage Man: You shall have her; and never want such a one while I am your Friend.

O Lord I! Don yeow know what yeow saen.

A Proper, Handsome Gentleman, I swear.

Who I, no, no: What done yeow mean forsooth?

I vow, I have not seen a handsomer: So proper, so well shap'd!

Oh Lord, I! I! Yeow jeern me naw.

Why dont you salute her, Man?

Who I? By the Mass, I dare not be so bold: What I kiss such a fine Gentlewoman?

Kiss, Kiss her Man: This Town affords us such every where? You'll hate the Countrey when you see a little more: Kiss her I say.

I am so ha la: I am asham'd.

What must I do it to you then?

Oh rare! Byth' Mass! Whoo Kisses daintily: And whoo has a Breath like a Caw.

Come, tother Bumper: To her Health let this be Here's to you.

Thanka forsooth and yeow pleasen.

Yes, any thing that you do, will please me.

Capt. Capt. What done yeow leave me?

What are you affraid of me?

Nay, By'r Lady: I am asham'd, who's farinely a pratty Lass! Marry.

A Handsom Man, and asham'd!

Who I, a Handsom Mon! Nay, Nay.

A Lovely Man, I vow: I cannot forbear Kissing you.

O dear: 'tis your goodness: Ods-flesh, whoo Loves me! who'll make me stark wood e'en naw: An yeow kissen me, By'r Lady, I's kiss yeow.

What care I?

Looka there naw! Waunds, whoo's a Dainty Lass, pure white and red: And most of the London Lasses are pure white and red: Welly aw alike; and I had her in some Nook. Ods-flesh, I say no more.

I'll stay no longer, farewel.

Nay, I's not leave a soo: Marry whoo's a Gallant Lass.

So, he's caught: this will take him off from teazing his Master with his damn'd good Counsel.

I have sent our Alsatian Attorny, and as Substantial Bail as can be wis [...]'d for the Redemption of our Suffolk Caravan; he's ripe for another Judgment, he begins to want the Ready much.

Scrapeall is provided for him: How now Captain, what's become of your Blockhead?

He's nibling at the Bait: He'll swallow presently.

But hark you, Shamwell! I have chosen the subtlest and handsomest Wench about this Town for the great Fortune I in­tend to bestow this hopeful Kinsman of yours upon: 'Tis Mrs. Termagant, his Brothers Cast Mistress, who resents her being lest to that degree, that tho' she meditates all the revenge, besides, [Page 42] that Womans Nature is capable of against him: Yet her Heart leapt for joy at this design of Marrying his Elder Brother: If it were for nothing but to plague the younger, and take place of his Wife.

I have seen her: She will personate a Town Lady of Quality admirably, and be as Haughty and Impertinent as the best of 'em: Is the Lodging, and Plate, and things ready for her?

It is, she comes there this Afternoon; she's set her Hand to a good swinging Judgment; and thou and I will divide my Lad: And now, all we have to do, is to preserve him to our selves from any other Correspondence, and at down-right Enmity with his Father, and Brother: And we must keep him continu­ally hot, as they do a Glass-House, or our work will go backward.

Oh my dear Friend and Cousin; tread upon my Neck: Make me your Footstool, you have made me a happy Man to know Plenty and Pleasure, good Company, good Wine, Music, Fine Women: Mrs. Hackum and I have been at Bumpers hand to fist: Here's my pretty Natural, my dear pretty Rogue: Adad, she's a Rare Creature, a Delicious Creature! And between you and I, dear Friend, she has all her Goings as well as e'er a Blow­ing in Christendom: Dear Madam Hackum, I am infinitely oblig'd to you.

I am glad, Sir, she gives your Worship content, Sir.

Content: Ah my pretty Rogue! Pox o'the Country, I say, Capt. Capt. here: Let me Equip you with a Quid.

Noble Squire: I am your Spaniel-Dog.

'Pox o' the Country, I say: The best Team of Hor­ses my Father has, shall not draw me thither agen.

Be firm to your Resolution, and thou'lt be happy.

If you meet either your Father, or Brother, or any from those Prigsters, stick up thy Countenance, or thou art ruin'd, my Son of Promise, my brisk Lad in remainder, when one of 'em approaches thee, we'll all pull down our Hats, and cry bow wow.

I warrant you; I am harden'd, I knew my Brother in the Country, but they shant sham me, they shall find me a smoaky Thief: I vow 'twill be a very pretty way: Bow wow. I warrant thee I'll do't.

Who the Devil's here! Your Brother, Courage.

Courage, be rough and haughty my Bumpkin.

Hey, where are all my Servants. Call 'em in.

Who is that in this House here, who usurps my Name, and is call'd Squire Belfond?

One who is called so without usurping. Bow wow.

Brother, Death do I dream! Can I trust my Senses! Is this my Brother?

Ay, ay, I know I am Transmography'd: But I am your very Brother▪ Ned.

Could you be so unkind, to come to Town, and not see your nearest Kindred, your Unkle, and my self?

I would not come to disgrace you, till my Equipage was all ready. Hey, La Marr, is my Coach at the Gate next to the Green-Dragon?

Ouy Monsieur.

But I was resolv'd to give you a Visit to Morrow Morning.

I should have been glad to have seen you any where but here.

But here! Why 'tis as good a Tavern, as any's in Town. Sirrah, fill some Bumpers: Here Brother, here's a Facer to you: We'll Huzza, Call in the Fidlers.

I am struck with Astonishment: Not all Ovid's Me­tamorphosis can shew such a one as this.

I see you wonder at my Change: What would you never have a Man learn breeding Adad? Should I always be kept a Country Bubble, a Caravan, a Meer Putt. I am brave and bowsy.

S'life! He has got the Cant too.

I shall be clear by and by: T'other Bumper, Brother.

No: I'll drink no more: I hate drinking between meals.

Oh Lord! Oh Lord! hate drinking between meals! What Company do you keep? But 'tis all one. Here Brother, pray salute this pretty Rogue: I mannage her, she is my Natural, my pure Blowing: I am resolv'd to be like a Gentleman and keep, Brother.

This is Mrs. Hackum: I am much oblig'd to her: Pray salute her.

What a Pox! Will he make me kiss the Bawd too.

Brother, now pray know these Gentlemen here; they are the prettiest Wits that are in Town: And between you and I Brother, brave gallant fellows, and the best friends I ever had in my life: This is Mr. Cheatly, and this my Cousin Sham­well.

I know em, and am acquainted with their worth.

Your humble Servant, sweet Sir.

Your Servant Cousin.

And this is my dear Friend Captain Hackum: There is not a braver fellow under the Sun.

By Heaven, a down-right Alsatian!

Come Musicians, strike up; and sing the Catch the Captain gave you, and we'll all join Ifaith. We can be merry Brother, and we can roar.

'Tis a very pretty magnanimous military business upon the Victory in Hungary.

You see Brother, what Company I keep: What's the matter you are melancholly.

I am not a little troubled Brother, to find you in such cursed company.

Hold Brother, if you love your life: They are all stout; but that same Captain has kill'd his five men.

Stout say you? This fellow Cheatly is the most no­torious Rascal and Cheat that ever was out of a Dungeon: This Kinsman a most silly Bubble first, and afterwards a betrayer of young Heirs, of which they have not ruin'd less than two hun­dred, and made em run out their Estates before they came to em.

Brother, do you love your Life? the Captain's a Lyon!

An Ass is he not? He is a Ruffian, and Cock-bawd to that Hen.

If you were not the Brother to my dearest Friend, I know what my Honour would prompt me to.

My dear Cousin, thou shalt now find how entirely I am thine: My Honour will not let me strike thy Brother.

But that the punctilio's of Honour are sacred to me; which tell me nothing can provoke me against the Brother of my noble friend, I had whipt him through the Lungs e're this.

Well, never man met with such true, such loving Friends.

Look you Brother, will this convince you, that you are fallen into the hands of Fools, Knaves, Scoundrels and Cow­ards.

Fools! nay there I am sure you are out: They are all deep, they are very deep and sharp; sharp as Needles, adad; the wittiest men in England. Here's Mr. Cheatly in the first place shall Sham and Bantor with you, or any one you will bring for 500 l. of my Money.

Rascally stuff; fit for no places but Ram-alley, or Pye corner.

Persuade me to that: They are the merriest Com­panions, and the truest Friends to me: 'Tis well for you adad, that they are so; for they are all of em as stout as Hector.

This is most amazing.

Did I not tell you he would envy your condition; and be very angry with us that put you into't.

He must needs be a kind Brother: We prove our selves your true Friends; and have that respect for your blood, that we will let none of it out, where-e're we meet it upon any cause.

You see Brother, how their Love prevails over their Valour.

Their Valour! look you Brother,

here's Valour.

I understand Honour and Breeding, besides I have been let blood to day.

Nothing shall make me transgress the rules of Honour I say.

Here! Where are you? Sirrah; Kill-Cow.

'Tis no matter; I know Honour: I know punctilio's to a hair. You owe your life to your Brother: besides, I am to be second to a dear Friend, and preserve my vigour for his ser­vice: but for all that, were he not your brother

Will not this convince you, brother, of their Cow­ardice?

No, I think not; for I am sure they are Valiant; this convinces me of their respect and friendship to me: My best Friends, let me embrace you: a thousand thanks to you.

I will redeem him yet from these Rascals if I can: You are upon the brink of ruine, if you go not off with me, and reconcile your self to my Father; I'll undertake it upon good terms.

No, I thank you; I'll see no Father; he shall use me no more like a Dog: he shall put upon me no longer. Look you Sir, I have Ready, Rhino, Cole, Darby; look here Sir!

Dear brother, let me perswade you to go along with me.

You love me! and use my best Friends thus? ne'r stir, I desire none of your Company: I'll stick to my friends: I look upon what you have done as an affront to me.

No doubt it is so.

That's most certain; you are in the right, Cousin.

We love you but too well, that angers him.

Well, I shall take my leave: You are in your Cups: You will wish you had heard me. Rogues, I shall take a course with you.

Rogues! They scorn your words.

Fare you well.

Fare you well Sir, and you be at that sport.

Roger, do not discover him to my Father yet; I'll talk with him cool in a morning first; perhaps I may redeem him.

I'll do as you'll have me.

So now we are free. Dear Friends, I never can be grateful enough: But 'tis late, I must shew my new Coach: Come Ladies.

How now, Daughter Lucia, where hast thou been?

I have been at Evening Prayers at St. Brides, and am go­ing home through the Temple.

Thou art my good Girl.

Oh Heaven! Who's here!

What's the matter?

I am taken ill on the sudden: I'll run home.

Stay, stay; thou wicked Author of my misfortune.

How's this? Stay Lucia! What mean you Madam The Girl's strangely disorder'd.

Oh Heaven! I am utterly ruin'd, beyond redemption.

Is she your Daughter Sir.

She is.

Then hear my story: I am contracted with all the so­lemnity that can be to Mr. Belfond, the Merchants Son; and for this wicked Girl he has lately cast me off: And this morning I went to his Lodging, to enquire a reason of his late Carriage to me, I found there in his Closet this young shameless Creature, who had been in Bed with him.

Oh Heaven and Earth! Is this true, Huswife?

Oh Lord I: I never saw the Gentleman nor her in my life: Oh she's a Confident thing!

May all the Judgments due to Perjury fall on me, if this be not true: I tore her by the hair, and pomell'd her to some tune; till that inhumane Wretch Belfond turn'd me out of doors, and sent her away in Chair.

O wicked Creature! Are you not afraid the Earth should open, and swallow you up? As I hope to be sav'd I never saw her?

Tho young in years, yet old in Impudence; did I not pursue thee since in the street, till you run into Belfonds Arms just before his Fathers House? Or I had mark'd thee for a young Whore.

As I hope to live Sir, 'tis all false: Every Word and Tittle of it: I know not what she means.

Have I bestow'd so much, and taken so much care in thy Education, to have no other Fruit but this?

Oh Lord Sir! Why will you believe this wicked Woman?

No young Impudence! I believe you: What made you ready to Swoon at the sight of this Lady, but your Guilt.

She mistakes me for some other, as she did to day when she pursu'd me to have kill'd me; which made me tremble at the sight of her now.

And yet you never saw her before▪ I am convinced: Go, wicked Wretch, go home: This News will kill thy Mother: I'll to my Chamber, and follow thee.

But if I ever see her, or you either, to be lock'd from my Dear [...]e [...]fond: I shall deserve whatever you can do to me.

Madam, I beseech you make as few words as you can of this.

I had much rather for my own honour have conceal'd it. [Page 49] But I shall say no more, provided you will keep her from him.

I warrant you Madam, I'll take a Course with her. Your Servant.

Madam, your most humble Servant: You see I am punctual to my Word.

You are Sir.

Come Madam, your Lodging, Furniture, and every thing are ready, let's loose no time: I'll wait on you thither, where we will Consult about our Affairs.

Come on: It is a rare design; and if it succeeds, I shall sufficiently be reveng'd on my Ungrateful Devil.

I'll warrant the Success.

We must be very careful of this Book: My Unkle, or our Dame Governante will burn it if they find it.

We cannot have a pleasant, or a Witty Book, but they serve it so: My Father loads us with Books, such as the Tryal of Man, in the Isle of Man, or Man-Shire: A Treatise on Sabbath-Break­ers: And Health out-drinking, or Life out-healthing Wretches: A Caustick, or Corrosive, for a Sear'd Conscience.

A Soveraign Oyntment for a Wounded Soul: A Cordial for a sick Sinner: The Nothingness of good Works: Waxed Boot Grace, for the Sussex ways of Affliction; and a deal of such stuff: But all Novels, Romances, or Poetry, except Quarles and Wi­thers, are an Abomination. Well, this is a Jewel, if we can keep it.

'Tis sweet Poerry: There is a pleasing Charm in all he writes.

Yea, there is a Charm of Satan's in it: 'Tis Vanity and Darkness, this Book hateth, and is contrary to the Light: and ye hate the light.

That's much: And this Evening a little before Night, thou blamedst us for looking out of the Window, and threaten'd to shut the Painted Shashes.

Now if thou shut'st those: Thou hatest the Light, and not we.

Look thee Teresia: Thou art wonton, and so is thy Co­sin Isabella: Ye seek Temptacion: You look out of the Casement to pick and cull young Men; whereby to feed the Lust of the Eye: Ye may not do it. And look thee Isbel and Teresia, if you open the Casements once more, I will place ye in the back Rooms, and lock the Fore Rooms up.

We will obey thee, Ruth.

We will not resist thy power: But prithee leave us that Book.

No, it is wanton and treateth of Love: I will instantly commit it to the Flames.

Shame on this old Wall-ey'd Hypocrite: She is the stri­ctest sort of Jaylor.

We are as narrowly look'd to, as if we had been clapt up for Treason, we are kept from Books, Pen, Ink, and Paper.

Well, it is a most painful life to dissemble constantly.

'Tis well we are often alone, to unbend to one another, one had as good be a Player, and Act continually else.

I can never perswade my self, that Religion can consist in Scurvy out of fashion Cloaths, stiff constrain'd Behaviour, and Sowre Countenances.

A tristful Aspect, looking always upon ones Nose, with a Face full of Spiritual Pride.

And when one walks abroad, not to turn ones Head to the right or left, but hold it strait forward, like an Old blind Mare.

True Religion must make one chearful, and affect one with the most ravishing Joy which must appear in the Face too.

My good Mother had the Government, and brought me up to better things, as thy good Aunt did thee.

But we can make no use of our Education under this Tyranny.

If we should Sing or Dance, 'twere worse than Murder.

But of all things: Why do they make such a stir to keep us from the Conversation of Mankind: Sure there must be more in it, then we can imagine; and that makes one have more mind to try.

Thou hast been so unquiet in thy sleep of late, and so gi­ven to sigh, and get alone when thou art awake: I fancy thou dost imagine somewhat of it.

Ah Rogue, and I have observed the same in thee: Canst thou not guess at Love: Come, confess, and I'll tell all.

Sometimes in my Dreams, methinks I am in Love, then a certain Youth comes to me; and I grow chill, and pant, and feel a little pain: But 'tis the prettiest thing methinks: And then I wake and blush, and am afraid.

Very pretty: And when I am awake, when I see one Gentleman, methinks I could look through him: And my Heart beats, beats like the Drums in the Camp.

I dare not ask who 'tis, for fear it should be my Man; for there are two come often to our Church, that stare at us con­tinually, and one of them is he.

I have observ'd 'em: One, who sate by us at Church, knew 'em by their Names: I am for one of 'em too.

I will remember it.

If it be any Man thou lik'st, I'll kill thee.

And if thou lov'st my Man, we must not live together.

Name him.

Do thou name first.

Let's write their Names.

Agree: We each have a Black-Lead Pen.

Truman, Mercy on me!

Belfond, Oh Heaven's!

What's this I see! Would I were blind.

Oh my Teresia!

Get thee from me.

'Tis as it should be; I wrote the wrong Name, on pur­pose to discover who was your Man more clearly; the other's my Belov'd. Belfond's my Hearts delight.

Say'st thou so my Girl! good Wits-jump. I had the same thought with thee. Now 'tis out, Truman for me; and methinks [Page 52] they keep such a staring at us, if we contrive to meet 'em, we need not despair.

Nay, they come not for Devotion, that's certain; I see that in their Eyes. Oh that they were ordain'd to free us from this odious Jail.

Go into your Chamber; here is a Man cometh about bu­siness: Ye may not see him.

We go: Come Cosin.

Come Friend: Let us retire also.

I Never more must see the Face of a Relation.

I warrant thee, my pretty Rogue, I'll put thee into that condition the best of all thy kindred shall visit thee, and make their court to thee; thou shalt spark it in the Boxes, shine at the Park, and make all the young fellows in the Town run mad for thee: Thou shalt never want, while I have any thing.

I cou'd abandon all the World for thee; if I cou'd think that thou wouldst love me always.

Thou hast so kindly oblig'd me, I shall never cease to love thee.

Pray Heaven I do not repent of it: You were kind to Mrs. Termagant; and sure it must be some barbarous usage, which thus provokes her now to all this malice.

She was debauch'd by the most nauseous Coxcomb, the most silly Beau and Shape about the Town; and had Cuck­olded him with several before I had her: She was indeed hand­some, but the most froward, ill-natur'd Creature; always mur­muring or scolding, perpetually jealous and exceptious, ever thinking to work her ends by Hectoring and Daring.

Indeed! Was she such a one? I am sure, you were the first that ever had my Heart, and you shall be the last.

My Dear, I know I had thy Virgin Heart, and I'll preserve it. But for her, her most diverting minutes were un­pleasant: Yet for all her Malice which you see, I still maintain her.

Ungrateful Creature! She is indeed a Fury. Shou'dst thou once take thy Love from me, I never shou'd use such ways: I silently shou'd mourn and pine away; but never think of once offending thee.

Thou art the prettiest, sweetest, softest Creature! And all the tenderest Joys that wait on Love, are ever with thee.

Oh, this is Charming kindness! May all the joys on Earth be still with thee.

Now here's a mischief on the other side; For how can a good natur'd man think of ever quitting so tender, and so kind a Mistress, whom no respect, but Love has thrown into my Arms: And yet I must: But I will better her condition. Oh, how does my Friend.

Oh Lord! Who's here?

My Dear, go to the Lodging I have prepar'd for thee; thou wilt be safe, and I'll wait on thee soon. Who's there?

Do you wait on this Ladies Chair, you know whither.

Thou art a pretty fellow, Belfond, to take thy pleasure thus, and put thy Friend upon the damnedst drudgery.

What drudgery? a little dissembling.

Why that were bad enough, to dissemble my self an Ass; but to dissemble Love, nay Lust, is the most irksome task a man can undergo.

But prithee come to the point: in short, have we any hopes?

'Tis done; the business is done: Whip on your habit; make no words.

I'll put it on in my Dressing-room. This News transports me.

If you had undergone what I have done, 'twould have humbled you: I have enjoy'd a Lady; but I had as lieve have [Page 54] had a Lancashire Witch, just after she had alighted from a Broom­staff: I have been uncivil, and enjoy'd the Governante in most lewd dalliance.

Thou art a brave fellow, and makest nothing of it.

Nothing? Sdeath, I had rather have storm'd a Half-Moon: I had more pleasure at the Battel of Mons.

But hast thou done our work as well as hers?

I have: For after the enjoyment of her person had led me into some familiarity with her. I propos'd, she accepted, for she is Covetous as well as Amorous: and she has so far wrought for us, that we shall have an Interview with our Mistresses; whom, she says, we shall find very inclinable; and she has pro­mis'd this night to deliver 'em into our hands.

Thou art a rare Friend to me, and to thy self. Now, Farewel all the vanity of this lewd Town, at once I quit you all. Dear Rogue, let's in.

Come in, in, and dress in your Habit.

Look ye Sir William, I am glad you like my Neece: and I hope also, that she may look lovely in your Sons Eyes.

No doubt but he will be extremely taken with her: Indeed both she and your Daughter are very Beautiful.

He like her! What's matter whether he like her, or n [...] Is it not enough for him, that I do? Is a Son, a Boy, a Jack­anapes, to have a will of his own? That were to have him be the Father, and I the Son. But indeed they are both very hand­some.

Let me tell you both, Sir William, and Sir Edward, Beauty is but Vanity, a meer nothing; but they have that which will not fade; they have Grace.

They look like pretty spirited witty Girls.

I am sorry I must leave thee so soon: I thought to have bidden face to dinner, but I am to pay down a summ of Money upon a Mortgage this afternoon: Farewell.

Farewel Mr. Scrapeall.

Pray meet my Brother at my House at Dinner.

Thank you Sir Edward, I know not but I may.

The person of this Girl is well chosen for your Son, if she were not so precise and pure.

Prethee, what matter what she is, has not she Fifteen Thousand Pounds clear?

For a Husband to differ in Religion from a Wise.

What, with Fifteen Thousand Pound?

A precise Wise will think her self so pure, she will be apt to contemn her Husband.

Ay, but Fifteen Thousand Pound, brother.

You know how intractable misguided Zeal and Spi­ritual Pride are.

What with Fifteen Thousand Pound!

I wou'd not willingly my Son shou'd have her.

Not with Fifteen Thousand Pound?

I see there's no Answer to be given to Fifteen Thou­sand Pound.

A Pox o' this Godly-knave, it shou'd have been Twenty.

Nor wou'd I buy a Wife for my Son.

Not if you cou'd have her a good pennyworth: Your Son, quoth ye? He is like to make a fine Husband. For all your precious Son —

Agen, Brother?

Look you, Brother, you fly out so: Pray, Brother, be not passionate; passion drowns ones parts; let us calmly rea­son: I have fresh matter; have but patience, and hear me speak.

Well, Brother, go on; for I see I might as soon stop a Tyde.

To be calm and patient; your Jewel, tho he deny'd that outrage in Dorset-Court, yet he committed it, and was last night hurry'd before the Lord Chief Justice for it.

It cannot be, on my certain knowledge. I cou'd convice him, but it is not time.

What a Devil, are all the World mistaken, but you?

He was with me all the Evening.

Why, he got Bail immediately, and came to you. Ounds, I never saw such a man in my life!

I am assur'd of the contrary.

Death and Hell, you make me stark mad! You will send me to Bedlam: You will not believe your own senses: I'll hold you a Thousand pound.

Brother, remember passion drowns ones parts.

Well, I am tame, I am cool.

I'll hold you a hundred; which is enough for one Brother to win of another.

And here's your own Attorney comes opportunely enough to hold stakes. I'll bind it with ten.

Done.

Why, I saw your man Roger, and he says, your Son found there a Rascal, that went by his Name.

Oh, Sir William, I am undone, ruin'd, made a mi­serable man!

What's the matter, man?

Tho you have been an exceeding good Clyent to me, I have reason to Curse one of your Family that has ruin'd mine.

Pray explain your self.

Oh, Sir, your Wicked Son, your most Libidinous Son.

Look you, Brother, D'ye hear? D'ye hear? Do you Answer?

He's Corrupted, Debauch'd my only Daughter, whom I had brought up with all the care and charge I cou'd, who was the Hopes, the Joy of all our Family.

Here's a Son! Here's a rare Son! Here's a hope­ful Son! And he were mine, I'd lash him with a Dog-Whip: I'd cool his Courage.

How do you know it is he?

I have a Witness of it, that saw her rise from his Bed the other Day Morning; and last Night she ran away to him, and they have lain at a private Lodging.

Be well assur'd, e'er you conclude; for there is a Ras­cal that has taken my Son's Name, and has swagger'd in and a­bout White-Fryars, with Cheatly, and that Gang of Rogues, whom my Son will take a Course with.

Oh, Sir, I am too well assur'd: My Wife tears her Hair; and I, for my part shall run distracted.

Oh, Wicked Rascal! Oh, my poor Tim! My dear Boy Tim! I think each Day a Year, till I see thee.

Sir, I am extreamly sorry for this, if it be so; but let me beg of you, play the part of a Wise Man; blaze not this [Page 57] Dishonor abroad, and you shall have all the Reparation the case is capable of.

Reparation, for making his Daughter a Whore! What, a Pox, can he give her her Maiden-head again?

Mony, which shall not be wanting, will stop that Witnesses Mouth: and I will give your Daughter such a For­tune, that were what you believe true and publickly known, she shou'd live above Contempt, as the World goes now.

You speak like the worthy Gentleman the World thinks you; but there can be no Salve for this Sore.

Why, you are enough to damn Forty Sons, if you had 'em; you encourage 'em to Whore: You are fit to breed up youth!

You are mad: But pray Sir, let me intreat you to go home, and I will come and wait upon you; and we will consult how to make the best of this misfortune, in which I assure you, I have a great share.

I will submit to your Wise Advice, Sir: My grief had had made me forget; here is a Letter comes out of the Country for you.

For me! 'Tis welcome: Now for News from my dear Boy! Now you shall hear, Brother: He is a Son indeed.

Yes, a very hopeful one: I will not undeceive him, till Ned has try'd once more to recover him.

On the tenth of this month, your Son, my young Master, about two of the Clock in the Morning, rode out with his Man Lolpoop; and notwithstanding all the search and enquiry we can make (Oh Heav'n) he cannot be found or heard of.

How's this?

Oh, my poor Boy! He is Robb'd and Murder'd, and buried in some Ditch, or flung into some Pond. Oh, I shall never see thee more, dear Tim! The Joy, and the Support of all my life! The only Comfort which I had on Earth:

Have patience Brother; 'tis nothing but a little Ramble in your Absence.

Oh, no; he durst not Ramble: He was the dutiful­lest Child! I shall never see his face again: Look you, he goes [Page] on. We have search'd and made enquiry in three Adjacent Countries, and no Tidings can be heard of him. What have I done, that Heav'n should thus afflict me?

What, if after all, this Son should be he that has made all this noise in White-Friers, for which mine has been so blam'd▪

My Son, my Son play such Pranks? that's likely! One so strictly, so soberly Educated! One that's Educated your way cannot do otherwise.

Sir, Sir, Sir, mercy upon me, here's my young Ma­sters Man Lolpoop, coming along in the Streets with a Wench.

Oh Heaven! What say you?

Now it works: Ha ha ha.

How now! What have

you to say to my Friend, my Dear?

Sirrah, Rogue, Dog, Villain! Whore! and you Rogue, Rogue! Confound the World! Oh that the World were all on fire!

Brother, for shame be more temperate: Are you a mad man?

Plague o' your dull Philosophy.

The Rabble are gather'd together about you.

Villain, Rogue, Dog, Toad, Serpent! Where's my Son? Sirrah, you have Robb'd him, and murder'd him.

Hold, hold; your Son is alive, and alive like: He's in London.

What say you, Sirrah? In London? and is he well? Thanks be to Heaven for that: Where is he Sirrah?

He is in White-Fryers, with Mr. Cheatly, his Cousin Shamwell, and Captain Hackum.

And you Rogue, you damn'd Dog, wou'd you suffer him to keep such Company, and commit such villanous Actions?

Hold, hold▪ hold, I pray you, Sir: I am but a Servant, how cou'd I help it, marry?

You cou'd not help being with a Whore your self; Sirrah, Sirrah, Sirrah. Here honest Mob, course this Whore to some purpose. A Whore, a Whore, a Whore.

This is wisely done! If they murder her, you'll be hang'd: I am in Commission for Middlesex; I must see to ap­pease them.

Sirrah, Rogue, bring me to my Son instantly, or I'll cut your Throat.

Dear Ruth, thou dost for ever oblige us.

And so much, that none but our own Mothers cou'd ever do it more.

Oblige your selves, and be not silly, coy, and [...] ▪ Strike me when the Iron's hot, I say. They have great Est [...], and are both Friends, I know both their Families and Conditions.

Here they are: Welcom Friends.

How dost thou?

These are the Damsels, I will retire, and watch, lest the Old Man surprize us.

Look thee, Isabella, I come to confer with thee, in a matter which concerneth us both, if thou be'st free.

Friend, 'tis like I am.

And mine with thee is of the same nature.

Proceed.

Something within me whispereth, that we were made as helps for one another.

They Act very well, Cousin.

For young beginners. Come, leave off your Canaanitish Dialect, and talk like the Inhabiters of this World.

We are as errant Hypocrites as the best of you.

We were bred otherwise than you see, and are able to hear you talk like Gentlemen.

You come to our Meeting like Sparks and Beaux, and I never cou'd perceive much Devotion in you.

'Tis such a pain to dissemble, that I am resolv'd I'll never do it, but when I must.

Dear Madam, I cou'd wish all forms were laid aside betwixt us: But in short, I am most infinitely in love with you, and must be for ever miserable if I go without you.

A frank and hearty Declaration, which you make with so much confidence, I warrant you have been us'd to it.

There is not a difficulty in the World which I would stop at to obtain your Love, the only thing on Earth cou'd make me happy.

And you are as much in earnest now, as you were when you came first to us even now.

That's well urg'd: Cannot you Gentlemen counterfeit Love, as well as Religion?

Love is so natural, it cannot be affected.

To show you mine is so, take me at my word: I am rea­dy to render on discretion.

And was this the reason you frequented our Parish-Church?

Cou'd you think our business was to hear your Teacher spin out an hour, over a Velvet Cushion?

Prophane men! I warrant they came to Ogle.

Even so: Our Eyes might tell you what we came for.

In short, dear Madam, our opportunities are like to be so few, your confinement being so close, that 'tis fit to make use of this; 'tis not your Fortune which I aim at, my Unkle will make a settlement equal to it, were it more; but 'tis your Char­ming person.

And you wou'd have me a fine forward Lady, to love Extempore.

Madam, you have but few minutes to make use of, and therefore shou'd improve those few: Your Unkle has sold you for 5000 l. and for ought I know, you have not this night good for your deliverance.

Consider, Ladies, if you had not better trust a couple of honest Gentlemen, than an Old Man, that makes his market of [Page 61] you: For I can tell you, you tho his own Daughter, are to be sold too.

But for all that, our consents are to be had.

You can look for nothing, but a more strict confine­ment, which must follow your Refusal: Now, if you have the Courage to venture an Escape, we are the Knights that will re­lieve you.

I have an Estate Madam, equal to your Fortune: But I have nothing can deserve your Love: But I'll procure your free­dom, then use it as you please.

If you are unwilling to trust us, you can trust your Governess, whom you shall have with you.

And what wou'd you and the World say of us for this?

We should Adore you: And I am apt to think the World wou'd not condemn your choice.

But I am sure, all the World will condemn your delay, in the condition you are in.

I see Mr. Scrapeall coming at the end of the Street: Begon, I'le bring them to your Chamber in the Temple, this Evening. Hast, hast out at the Back-door.

This is most unfortunate.

Dear Madam, let me Seal my Vows.

Go, go: begon, begon, Friends.

You see, Brother, we have dogg'd Belfond, till we saw him enter the House of this Scrivener with his Friend Truman, both in disguises; which, with what we have heard even now, at the neighbouring Alehouse, convinces me, that 'tis he is to marry the rich Niece.

They say she is to be Marry'd to the Son of Sir William Belfond, and that Sir William gives a great summ of Mony to her Unkle for her; by this it should seem to be the Elder Son, and not our Enemy, who is disguis'd for her.

If so, the Villain would not at full day go thither.

But 'tis in a disguise.

With that, I suppose the Son pretends to be a Puritan too, or she would not have him; it must be he. And if you [Page 62] will do as I directed you, I warrant I'le break off his Match; and by that work an Exquisite piece of Revenge.

I am wholly at your dispose.

Now is the time, the Door opens; pursue me with a drawn Dagger, with all the seeming Fury imaginable, now as the Old Man comes out.

Where is the Jade? Deliver her to me, I'll cut her in piece meal: Deliver her, I say. Well, you will not deliver her: I shall watch her.

Oh, Oh! Where is the Murderer? Where is he? I die with fear, I die.

Prithee, Woman, Comfort thy self, no Man shall hurt thee here. Take a Sup of this Bottle.

Thou art safe.

We will defend thee here, as in a Castle. But what is the occasion of this Man's fury?

You are so generous, in giving me this Succour, and promising my defence, that I am resolv'd not to conceal it from you: Tho' I must confess, I have no reason to boast of it; but I hope your Charity will Interpret it as well as you can on my side.

Go on: Thou need'st not fear.

Know then, I am a Gentlewoman, whose Parents dying when I was sixteen, left me a moderate Fortune, yet able to main­tain me like their Daughter. I chose an Aunt my Guardian, one of those Jolly Widows who love Gaming, and have great re­sort in the Evenings at their Houses.

Good: Proceed.

There it was my misfortune to be acquainted with a young Gentleman, whose Face, Air, Mein, Shape, Wit, and Breed­ing not I alone, but the whole Town Admires.

Very good.

By [...]ll his Looks, his Gestures, and Addresses, he seem'd in Love with me: The Joy that I conceiv'd at this, I wanted Cunning to conceal, but he must needs perceive it flash in my Eyes, and kindle in my Face; he soon began to court me in such sweet, such Charming Words, as wou'd betray a more experienc'd Heart than mine.

Humh: Very well; she speaks notably.

There was but little left for him to do, for I had done it all before for him: He had a Friend within too ready to give up the Fort; yet I held out as long as I could make defence.

Good lack a day! Some Men have strange Charms, it is confess'd.

Yet I was safe by Solemn mutual Oaths, in private we were contracted: He wou'd have it private, because he fear'd to offend an Unkle, from whom he had great expectance; but now came all my Misery.

Alack, alack, I warrant he was false.

False as a Crocodile: He watch'd the fatal Minute, and he found it, and greedily seiz'd upon me, when I trusted to his Honour and his Oaths; he still swore on, that he wou'd Marry me, and I Sinn'd on: In short, I had a Daughter by him, now three years old, as true a Copy as e'er Nature drew, Beauteous, and Witty to a Miracle.

Nay, Men are faithless, I can speak it.

Poor Lady; I am strangely concern'd for her.

She was a Fool, to be catch'd in so common a Snare.

From time to time he swore he wou'd Marry me; though I must think I am his Wife as much as any Priest can make me; but still he found Excuses about his Unkle. I wou'd have pati­ently waited till his Unkle's death, had he been true; but he has thrown me off, abandon'd me, without so much as a pretended Crime.

Alack, and well-a-day! It makes me weep.

But 'tis for an Attorney's Daughter, whom he keeps, and now is fond of; while he treats me with all contempt and hatred.

Tho' she was a Fool, yet he's a base inhuman Fellow.

To scorn and hate her, for her Love to him.

By this means, my Dishonour, which had been yet conceal'd, became so publick, my Brother coming from the Wars of Hungary, has hear'd all, has this day fought with the Author of my Misery, but was disarm'd; and now by Accident he spy'd me by your House, I having fled the place where I had lodg'd, for fear of him; and here the Bloody Man would have kill'd me, for the dishonour done to his Family, which never yet was blemisht

Get the Chief Justices Warrant, and bind him to the Peace.

She tells her story well.

'Tis a very odd one; but she expresses it so sensibly, I cannot but believe her.

If they do not ask me who this is, I have told my Tale in vain. Now, Ladies, I hope you have charity enough, to pardon the weakness of a poor Young Woman, who suffers shame enough within.

We shall be glad to do you what kindness we can.

Oh, had you seen this most bewitching person, so Beautiful, Witty, and well bred, and full of most Gentleman-like Qualities, you wou'd be the readier to have Compassion on me.

Pray, who is it?

Alas, 'tis no secret, it is Belfond, who calls Sir Edward Belfond Father, but is his Nephew.

What do I hear? Was ever Woman so unfortunate as I, in her first Love.

'Tis most unlucky.

That is the Niece: I see 'twas he who was to Marry her.

But I am glad I have thus early heard it: I'le never see his face more.

All this is false: He is a Pious man, and true Professor. This vile Woman will break the Match off, and undo my hopes.

'Tis as I thought. He is a Ranting Blade, a Royster of the Town.

Come you are an idle Woman, and belye him; begon out of the doors; there's the back-way, you need not pretend fear of your Brother.

I am oblig'd enough in the present defence you gave me: I intended not to trouble you long; but Heav'n can witness what I say is true.

Do you hear Cousin? 'tis most certain, I'll never see him.

Go, wicked Woman, go, what evil Spirit sent thee hi­ther? I say begon.

I go. I care not what she says, it works where I wou'd have it. Your Servant Ladies.

Go, go, thou wicked Slanderer.

See him but once, to hear what he can say in his De­fence.

Yes, to hear him lye, as all the Sex will: Persuade me not; I am fix'd.

Look thee, Isabella.

I am resolv'd.

Dear Ruth, thou dearest Friend, whom once we took for our most cruel Gaolor, let's follow, and help me to convince her of her Error; but I am resolv'd, if she be stubborn, t [...] undo her self, she shall not ruine me: I will escape.

Let us persuade her.

Captain, call all my Servants, why don't they wait?

O, my pure Blowing, my convenient my Tackle!

How dost thou, my Dear?

I have brought you a Cawdle here; there's Am­ber-greese in it, 'tis a rare refreshing, strengthning thing.

What, adad, you take me for a Bride-groom; I scorn a Cawdle, give me some Cherry brandy, I'le drink her Health in a Bumper: Do thee eat this, Child.

I have that at hand—here, Sir.

Come, my dear Natural, here's a Bumper of Cher­ry-brandy to thy Health; but first let me kiss thee, my dear Rogue.

Some Thunderbolt light on my Head; what's this I see?

My Father!

Hey, here's the whole Kennel of Hell-hounds.

Bear up to him, bow, wow.

Do not flinch, bow, wow.

Bow, wow, Bow, wow.

Most impudent abandon'd Rascal; let me go, Let me come at him; audacious Varlet, how durst thou look on me?

Go strike your Dogs, and call them names, you have nothing to do with me, I am of full Age; and I thank Heaven, [Page 66] am gotten loose from your Yoak, don't think to put upon me, I'le be kept no longer like a Prigster, a silly Country Put, fit for nothing but to be a Bubble, a Caravan, or so.

A most perfect downright Canting Rogue; am I not your Father, Sirrah? Sirrah, am I not?

Yes, and Tenant for Life to my Estate in Tail, and I' [...] look to you, that you commit no waste; what-a-Pox, did you think to Nose me for ever, as the Saying is? I am not so dark [...], I am sharp, sharp as a Needle, I can smoak now, as soon as another.

Let me come at him.

So long as you forbear all Violence you are safe; but if you strike here, we command the Fryers, and we will raise the P [...]sse.

O Villain! thou notorious undoer of young Heirs: And thou pernicious Wretch, thou art no part of me; have I from thy first swadling nourish'd thee and bred thee up with Care.

Yes, with care to keep your Money from me, and breed me in the greatest Ignorance, sit for your Slave, and not your Son; I had been finely dark if I had staid at home.

Were you not Educated like a Gentleman?

No like a Grasier or a Butcher; if I had staid in the Country, I had never seen such a Nab, a rum Nab, such a Mo­dish Porker, such spruce and neat Accoutrements; here is a Tatle? here's a Famble, and here's the Cole, the Ready, the Rhino, the Darby; I have a lusty Cod Old Prigg, I'd have thee know, and am very Rhinocerical, here are Meggs and Smelts good store, De­cus [...]s and Georges, the Land is Entail'd, and I will have my Snack of it while I am young, adad, I will. Hah!

Some Mountain cover me, and hide my Shame for ever from the World; did I not beget thee, Rogue?

What know I whether you did or not? but 'twas not to use me like a Slave, but I am sharp and smoaky, I had been pure­ly Bred, had I been Rul'd by you, I should never have known these Worthy Ingenious Gentlemen, my dear Friends, all this fine Language had been Heathen Greek to me, and I had ne'r been able to have cut a Sham or Banter while I had liv'd, a Dad; Odsookers, I know my self, and will have nothing to do with you.

I am astonish'd!

Shall my younger Brother keep his Coach and Equi­page, and shine like a Spruce Prigg, and I be your Bayly in the Country? Hi, La Mar; bid my Coach be ready at the Door; I'll make him know I am elder Brother, and I will have the better Liveries, and I am resolved to mannage my Natural, my pure Blow­ing, my Convenient, my Peculiar, my Tackle, my Purest Pure, as the rest of the young Gentlemen of the Town do.

A most confirm'd Alsatian Rogue!

Thou most ungracious Wretch to break from me, at such a time, when I had provided a Wife for you, a Pretty Young Lady, with fifteen thousand Pound down, have setled a great Jointure upon her, and a large Estate in Present on you, the Writings all sealed, and nothing wanting but you, whom I had send for Post out of the Country to marry her!

Very likely, that you, who have cudgel'd me from my Cradle, and made me your Slave, and grutch'd me a Crown in my Pocket, should do all this.

Believe him not; there's not one Word of Truth in't.

This is a Trick to get you in his Power.

The Writings are all at my Attorney's in the Tem­ple; you may go with me, and see'm all; and, if you will com­ply, I'le pardon what is past and marry you.

No, no, I am sharp, as I told you, and smoaky; you shall not put upon me, I understand your Shams; but to talk fairly, in all occurrences of this nature, which either may, or may not be, according to the different accidents which often inter­vene upon several opportunities, from whence we may collect either Good or Bad, according to the nature of the things them­selves; and forasmuch as whether they be Good or Bad [...] only the Understanding, so far [...]orth as it employes [...]Now since all this is premised, Let us come to the [...]

Prodigious Impudence! O Devil! I'le to my [...] Chief Justice, and with his Tipstaff I'le do your Business, Rogues Dogs and Villains, I will.

This was bravely carry'd on.

Most admirably.

Ai, was't not? Don't I begin to Banter pretty well? ha!

Rarely: But a Word in Private, my r [...]splendent [...] ▪ [Page 68] You see your Father resolves to put some Trick upon you; be be­fore-hand with him, and marry this Fortune I have prepared; loose not Time but see her, and treat with her, if you like her, as soon as you can.

You are in the right; let not my Blowing hear a Word; I'le to her instantly.

Shamwel and I'le go and prepare her for a Visit; you know the place.

I do, come along.—

Madam, you must carry your self somewhat Stately, but Courteously, to the Bubble.

Somewhat reserv'dly, and yet so as to give him hopes.

I warrant you, let me alone; and if I effect this busi­ness, you are the best Friends; such Friends as I could never yet expect: 'Twill be an exquisite Revenge.

He comes! come Noble Esquire.

Madam, this is the Gentleman whom I would recommend to your Ladiships favour, who is ambitious of Kissing your Hand.

Yes, Madam, as Mr. Cheatly says, I am ambitious of Kissing your Hand, and your Lip too, Madam; for I vow to gad, Madam, there is not a Person in the World, Madam, has a greater honour for your Person: And, Madam, I assure you I am a Person—

My good Friend, Mr. Cheatly, with whom I intrust the Management of my small Fortune —

Small Fortune! nay it is a large one—

He's told me of your Family and Character: To your Name I am no Stranger, nor to your Estate, though this is the first time I have had the honour to see your Person.

Hold, good Madam, the Honour lies on my side; she's a rare Lady, ten times handsomer than my Blowing: (And here's a Lodging and Furniture for a Queen!) Madam, if your Ladiship please to accept of my Affection in an Honourable way, you shall find I am no Putt, no Country Prigster, nor shall ever want the Meggs, the Smelts, Decuses and Georges, the Ready, and the Rhino: I am Rhinocerical.

I want nothing Sir, Heaven be thanked.

Her worst Servants eat in Plate; and her Maids have all Silver Chamber-pots.

Madam, I beg your pardon, I am somewhat Bowsie; I have been drinking Bumpers and Facers till I am almost Cleare: I have 3000 l. a year, and 2000 pounds-worth of Wood, which I can turn into Cole and Ready, and my Estate ne'er the worse; ther's only the Incumbrance of an Old Fellow upon it, and I shall break his heart suddenly.

This is a weighty matter, and requires advice: nor is it a sudden work to persuade my heart to Love. I have my Choice of Fortunes.

Very like Madam: But Mr. Cheatly and my Cousin Shamwell can tell you that my Occasions require hast, dee see! and therefore I desire you to resolve as soon as conveniently you can.

What's this I hear?

They are up in the Friers: Pray Heaven the Sheriffs Officers be not come.

'Slife, 'tis so; shift for your selves; Squire let me conduct you— This is your wicked Father with Officers.

Are you mad to resist the Tip-staff, the King's Au­thority?

We are too strong for 'em: Stand our ground.

We demand that same Squire, Cheatly, Shamwell, and Bully Hackum: Deliver them up, and all the rest of you are safe.

Not a Man.

Nay then, have at you.

I charge you, in the

King's Name, all to assist me.

Fall on.

Come on thou wick­ed [Page] Author of this Broil. You are our Prisoner.

Let me go, Rogue.

Now we have you in the Temple, we'll shew you the [...]ump first.

Dogs, Rogues, Villains.

To the Pump, to the Pump.

Pump him, Pump him.

Ay, Pump him, Pump him, Old Prigg.

Pump, Pump, to the Pump; Huzza!

What's the matter here?

The Rabble have catcht a Bailiff.

Death and Hell, 'tis my Father; 'tis a Gentleman, my Father. Gentlemen, I beseech you lend me your hands to his Rescue.

Come on, Rascals: Have

we caught you? We'll make you an Example.

Here! where are the Officers of the Temple? Porter, do you shut the Gates into White Friers.

I will, Sir.

Here's a Guinea among ye. See these three Rogues well Pumpt, and let 'em gothrough the whole Course.

Hold, hold, I am a Gentleman.

I am your Cousin.

Hold, hold, Scoundrels, I am a Captain.

Away with 'em.

Away with 'em. Dear Son, I am infinitely oblig'd to you; I ask your Pardon for all that I have said against you: I have wrong'd you.

Good Sir, reflect not on that; I am resolv'd, [...]'er I have done, to deserve your good Word.

'Twas ill Fortune, we have miss'd my most ungra­cious Rebel, that Monster of Villany.

Let me alone with him Sir, upon my Honour I will deliver him safe this Night. But now let us see the Execution.

Dear N [...]d, you bring Tears into my Eyes. Let me [Page 71] Embrace thee, my only Comfort now.

Good Sir, let's on and see the Justice of this place.

O Unmerciful Dogs! Were ever Gentlemen us'd thus before? I am drencht into a Quartan Ague.

My Limbs are stiff and numb'd all over: But where I am beaten and bruis'd, there I have some Sense left.

Dry Blows I could have borne magnanimously; but to be made such a Sop of— Besides, I have had the worst of it, by wearing my own Hair; to be Shav'd all on one side, and with a Lather made of Channel-dirt, instead of a Wash-ball: I have lost half the best Head of Hair in the Friers; and a Whisker, worth Fifty Pound in its Intrinsick Value to a Commander.

Indeed your Magnanimous Phyz is somewhat disfigur'd by it, Captain.

Your Military Countenance has lost much of its Orna­ment.

I am as diconsolate as a Bee that has lost his Sting; the other Moity of Whisker must follow: Then all the terror of my Face is gone; that Face that us'd to fright young Priggs into Submission. I shall now look but like an Ordinary Man.

We'll swinge those Rogues with Indictments for a Riot, and with Actions Sans Nombre.

What Reparation will that be? I am a Gentleman, and can never shew my face amongst my Kindred more.

We that can shew our Faces after what we have done, may well shew 'em after what we have suffer'd. Great Souls are above Ordinances, and never can be Slaves to Fame.

My Honour is tender, and this one Affront will cost me at least five Murders.

Let's not prate and shiver in cold Fits here, but call your Wife with the Cherry-Brandy, and let's ask after the Squire▪ If they have taken him, 'tis the worst part of the Story.

No, I saw the Squire run into the Friers at first. But I'll go fetch some Cherry-Brandy,

and that will comfort us.

Here's the Bottle, lets drink by Word of Mouth.

Your Cherry-Brandy is most sovereingn

and edifying.

Most exceeding comfortable after

our Temple Pickling.

A Fish has a dam'd life on't: I shall have that Aver­sion to Water, after this— that I shall scarce ever be cleanly enough to wash my Face again.

Well! I'll to the Barbers and get my self Shav'd; then go to the Squire and be new Accouter'd.

Dear Shamwell, we must not for a little Affliction, for­get our main Business; our Caravan must be well manag,d: He is now drunk, and when he wakes, will be very fit to be Marry'd. Mrs. Termagant has given us a Judgment of 2000 l. upon that condition.

The sooner we dispose of him, the better; for All his Kindred are bent to retrieve him; and the Temple joyning in the War against us, will go near to be too hard for us; so that we must make what we can of him immediately.

If he should be once Cool, or Irresolute, we have lost him, and all our hopes; but when we have sufficiently dipt him, as we shall by this Marriage and her Judgment, he is our own for ever.

But what shall we do for our White-Friers Chaplain, our Alsatian Divine? I was in search of him before our late Mis­fortune, and the Rogue is hol'd somewhere, I could not find him, and we are undone without him.

'Tis true; pray go instantly and find him out; he dares not stir out of this Covert; beat it well all over for him, you'll [...] him tappes'd in some Ale-house, Bawdy-house, or [...] shop.

He's a brave swinging Orthodox, and will Marry any [...] at any time; he desies License, and Canonical Hours, and all those foolish Ceremonies.

Pr [...]ithe look after him, while I go to prepare the Lady.

You Rogue, Cheatly, you have a loving Design upon [Page 73] her; you will go to twelve with the Squire: If you do, will have my snack.

Go, go, you are a wag.

She told her Tale so passionately, that Isabella believes every word of it; and is resolv'd, as she says, never to see thee more.

Oh, this most malicious, and most infamous of her Sex; there is not the least truth in her Accusation.

That to my knowledge, he is not a Man of those Princi­ples.

I will send them to you, if I can; and in the mean time, be upon the Watch.

Take this Writing with thee; which is a Bond from us, to make good our Agreement with thee.

'Tis well, and still I doubt not to perform my part.

Was ever man plagu'd with a Wench like me? Well, say what they will, the life of a Whore-Master is a foolish, rest­less, anxious life; and there's an end of it. What can be done with this malicious Devil? A Man cannot offer violence to a Woman.

Steal away her Child, and then you may awe her.

I have Emissaries abroad, to find out the Child; but she'll Sacrifice that, and all the World, to her Revenge.

You must Arrest her upon a Swinging Action, which she cannot get Bail for, and keep her till she's humbled.

Madam, I kiss your hands.

You have done well, Mr. Belfond: Here has been a La­dy, whom you have had a Child by, were Contracted to, and have deserted, for an Attorny's Daughter which you keep; my Cousin says she will never see you more.

If this be true, Madam, I deserve never to see her more; which wou'd be worse than Death to me.

I have prevail'd with her once more to see you, and hear what you can say to this: Come, come, Cousin.

Look you, Cousin, Mr. Belfond denies all this matter.

I never doubted that: but certainly it is impossible to counterfeit so lively as she did.

Heaven is my Witness that her Accusation is false: I never was yet contracted to any Woman, nor made the least promise, or gave any one the least hope of it; and if I do not demonstrate my innocence to you, I will be content for ever to be debarr'd the sight of you, more priz'd by me than Liberty, or Life.

And yet perhaps these very words were said to her.

Madam, you have not time, if you value your own Liber­ty; to Argue any longer: We will carry you to Sir Edward Bel­fonds, his Sister is his House-keeper, and there you may be en­tertain'd with safety of your Honour.

He is esteem'd a Worthy Gentleman; nor cou'd we chuse a better Guardian.

At least, how could you use a Woman ill, you had a Child by.

Not all the malice of Mankind can equal hers. I have been frail, I must confess, as others; and though I have provided for her and her Child, yet every day she does me all the most outragious mischief she can possibly conceive; but this has touch'd me in the tender'st point.

'Twould be much for my honour, to put myself into the hands of a known Wencher.

Into the hands of one, who has abandon'd all the thoughts of Vice and Folly for you.

Besides, Madam, you neither of you trust us; your Go­verness is with you, and yet we are ready to make good our words by the Assistance of a Parson.

That's another point: But I am sure, Cousin, there is no dallying about our Liberty: If you be in Love with your Jayl, stay; I, for my part, am resolv'd to go.

My Unkle's a vertuous honourable Man; my Aunt, his Sister, a Lady of great Piety: think if you will not be safer there, than with your Unkle, by whom you are sold for 5000 l. to my knowledge, to one who is the most debauch'd dissolute Fellow this day in London.

Liberty, liberty, I say; I'le trust my self, and my Go­verness.

Haste, and agree: Your Father has sent to have Supper ready in less than half an hour.

Away, away; I am ready; Cousin, farewel.

For Heavens sake, Madam, on my knees I beg you to make use of this occasion, or you have lost your self; and I too shall for ever lose you for Marriage; which alone can keep me from being the most miserable: you may advise, and all things shall be clear'd up to your wish.

Fare [...]el, Dear Cousin: let's kiss at parting.

Sure thou hast not the Conscience; thou wilt not leave me▪

By my troth but I will.

By my troth but you shall not; for I'le go with thee.

May all the joys of Life for ever wait on you.

Haste! haste! begon—

That I should live to this unhappy Age! to see the fruit of all my hopes thus blasted: How long, like Chymists have I watch'd and toil'd; and in the minute when I expected to have seen Projection, all is slown up in Fumo.

Brother! I am asham'd to look on you, my disappointment is so great. Oh this most wicked Recreant! this perverse and infamous Son.

Brother, a Wise man is never disappointed. Mans life is like a Game at Tables; if at any time the Cast you most shall need does not come up: let that which comes instead of it be mended by your play.

How different have been our Fates? I left the plea­sures of the Town, to Marry, which was no small Bondage, had Children, which brought more care upon me: For their sakes I liv'd a rustick, painful, hard, severe, and melancholy Life: Morose, Inhospitable, sparing even Necessaries; Tenaceous, even to gri­ping, for their good: My Neighbours shunn'd me, my Friends neg­lected me, my Children hate me, and wish my Death: Nay, this wicked Son in whom I had set up my rest, and principally for whose good I thus had liv'd, has now defeated all my hopes.

'Twas your own choice: you would not learn from others.

You have liv'd ever at ease, indulg'd all Pleasures, and melted down your time in daily Feasts, and in continual Re­vels: [Page 76] Gentle, Complaisant, Assable, and Liberal, at great ex­pence: The World speaks well of you; Mankind embrace you; your Son Loves you, and wishes your Life as much as he can do his own. But I'll perplex my self no more: I Look upon this Ras­cal as an Excrement, a Wen, or Grangren'd Limb, lop't off.

Rather look on him as a Dislocated one, and get him Set again: By this time you see, Severity will do nothing, en­tice him back to you by Love. In short, give him his Liberty, and a good allowance: There now remains no other way to re­claim him; for like a Stone-horse broke in among the Mares, no Fence hereafter will contain him.

Brother, I look upon you as a true Friend, that would not insult upon my Folly and Presumption, and confess you are nearer to the right than I: Your Son I hope will be a Comfort to me.

I doubt it not; but consider, if you do not reconcile your self, and reclaim yours, as I tell you, you Lop off the Pater­nal Estate, which is all Entail'd forever from your Family: For, in the Course he is, the Reversion will be gone in your Life time.

Here are my Father and my Unkle: Mask your selves, Ladies; you must not yet discover who you are.

Yonder's Ned, and his Friend, with Ladies Mask'd: Who shou'd they be.

Whores, Whores, what shou'd they be else? Here's a Comfortable sight again! He is incorrigible.

'Tis you that are incorrigible: How ready are you with your Censures!

Sir, pardon the freedom I use with you; I humbly desire protection for these Ladies in your House: They are Wo­men of Honour, I do assure you, and desire to be Conceal'd for some small time; an Hour hence I will discover all to you, and you will than approve of what I do.

Dear Ned, I will trust thy Honour; and without any Examination, do as you would have me.

Why, Brother, what a Pox, will you Pimp for your Son? What a Devil, will you make your House a Bawdy House?

What, will the Must never be gotten out of your old Vessel? Ladies, be pleas'd to Honour my House; and be assur'd, [Page 77] that while you are there, 'tis yours.

Sir, my Friend and I are just now going to do you Service: I'll pawn my Life to you, Sir, I will retrieve your Rebel Son, and immediately restore him to you, and bring him, as he ought to come, on's Knees, with a full Submission.

You will oblige me: Thou gain'st upon me hourly, and I begin to love thee more and more.

There's nothing in the World I aim at now but your Love; and I will be bold to say, I shortly will deserve it: But this Business requires haste, for I have laid every thing [...]ady; 'tis almost Bed time; come Friend.

Well, I'll say that for him, he is a good Natur'd Boy; it makes me weep, to think how harsh I have been to him. I'll in to my Brother, and expect the Event.

I value not misfortune, so as I have my dear Friend still within my Arms.

My dear, dear Cosin! I will hug thee close to me; I fear'd to have lost thee.

How happy am I in the truest, the dearest Friends that ever Man enjoy'd! Well, I was so afflicted for you, I was forc'd to make my self Devilish Bowsie to comfort me.

Your Brother has heard of this great Match you are to­wards: She has to my knowledge, (for I do all her Law-Busi­ness for her) 1500 l. a year Jointure, and Ten Thousand pound in Plate, Money, and Jewels; and this damn'd Envious Brother of yours will break it off, if you make not haste and prevent him.

My dear Friends, you are in the right: Never Man met with such before. I'll disappoint the Rogue my Brother, and the old Prig my Father; adad, Ill do't instantly.

Come, Squire, haste: Captain, do you follow us.

Madam, the time admits of no longer deliberation▪ If you take not this opportunity, my Friend here will be ravish'd from us.

Ay, Madam, if you take me not now, you will lose me Madam, you will consider what you do.

Well, Mr. Cheatly, you dispose of me as you please: I have ever been guided by your wise advice.

Come, Parson, do your Office; have you your Book about ye?

What, do you think I am without the Tools of my Trade?

Can't you come presently to the joyning of hands, and leave out the rest of the Formalities.

Ay, ay: Come, stand forth.

Here they are: Seize them all.

Hell and Damnation! We are all undone.

Hands off; let me alone: I am going to be Mar­ry'd. You envious Rascal to come just in the nick.

Brother, be satisfy'd, there's nothing but Honour meant to you: 'tis for your Service.

Oh this accursed Wretch, to come in this unlucky mi­nute, and ruin all my Fortune.

She has fifteen hundred a year Joynture, and ten thousand pound in Money, &c. and I had been Marry'd to her in 3 minutes.

You have scap'd the worst of Ruins: Resist not, for if you do, you shall be carry'd by Head and Heels. Your Fa­ther will receive you, and be kind, and give you as good an Al­lowance as ever I had.

Where's your Warrant?

'Tis here, from my Lord Chief Justice.

Let me see your Bride that was to be. Oh Mrs. Ter­magant! Oh Horror! Horror! What a ruin have you scap'd? This was my Mistriss, and still maintain'd by me: I have a Child by her 3 years old.

Impudent Villain! How dare you lye so basely?

By Heav'n 'tis true.

I never saw him in my life before.

Yes, often, to my Plague. Brother, if I do not prove this, to you, believe me not in ought I e're shall say.

Belfond, look to your self.

Ha! Disarm her. This is another show of her good Nature. Brother, give me your hand, I'le wait on you; and you will thank me for your deliverance.

I am assur'd you will: You are deliver'd from the most infamous, and destructive Villains, that ever yet took Sanctuary here.

And from two mischiefs you must have for ever sunk under, Incest and Beggary. Those three are only in the War­rant with my Brother; him I'le wait upon, bring you the Rest. Hey! the cry is up; but we are provided.

Undone, undone, all's lost!

Ruin'd; for ever lost!

I am surpriz'd, and cannot sight my way through.

What, are all these Rogues? and that a Whore [...] and am I cheated!

Ev'n so; come along; make ready Musketeers.

Do you take care of my Brother, and conduct him with the rest to my Unkles House: I must go before, and carry my little Mistress, to make up the business with her Father.

I'll do it, I warrant you.

We are ready.

Oh Vile Misfortune! had he but staid six minutes, I had Crown'd all my Revenge with one brave Act, in Marrying of his Brother. Well, I have one piece of Vengeance, which I will Ex­ecute, or perish: Besides I'le have his Blood, and then I'le dye contented.

What do all these Rabble here?

Fire amongst 'em.

Present.

Hey how they run!

This is the time I appointed my Son to bring your Daughter hither: The Witness is a most malicious lying Wench, and can never have credit. Besides, you know an Action will sufficiently stop her Mouth; for, were it true, she can never prove what she says.

You say right, Sir: next to her being innocent, is the concealing of her shame.

And can I live to hear my fatal Sentence of parting with you? Hold Heart a little.

It is with some Convulsions I am torn from you; but I must Marry, I cannot help it.

And must I never see you more?

As a Lover, never; but your Friend I'll be while I have Breath.

Heart, do not swell so. This has awakned me, and made me see my Crime: Oh, that it had been sooner!

Sir, I beg a thousand pardons, that I shou'd attempt to injure your Family, for it has gone no farther yet: For any Fact, she's innocent; but 'twas no thanks to me, I am not so. (If a Lie be ever lawful, 'tis in this case.)

Come, pretty Lady, let me present you to your Fa­ther: Tho' as my Son says, she's innocent; yet, because his Love had gone so far, I present her with 1500 l. my Son and you shall be Trustees for her: To Morrow you shall have the Money.

You are the best of all Mankind.

All the World speaks your Praises justly.

A thousand Thanks, Sir, for your Bounty: And if my Fa­ther please to pardon me this slip, in which I was so far from fact, that I had scarce intention: I will hereafter outlive the strictest Nun.

Rise: I do pardon you.

That's well: And if they be not kind to you, appeal to me. It will be fit for you to go from hence with the least no­tice that can be: To Morrow I'll bring the Money. Who are the Ladies you have entrusted me with, Ned?

Scrapealls Neice and Daughter! The Neice my Fa­ther, [Page 81] was to give 5000 l. for, for his Son: If you will give me leave, I shall Marry her for nothing; and the other will take my Friend—

How Ned! She's a Puritan?

No more than you, Sir: She was bred otherwise, but was fain to comply for peace; she is Beautiful, and Witty to a Miracle; and I beg your consent, for I will die before I Marry without it.

Dear Ned, thou hast it; but what hast thou done with the Alsatians?

I have the Rogues in Custody, and my Brother too; whom I Rescu'd in the very Minute he was going to be Marry'd to a Whore, to my Whore who plagues me continually. I see my Father coming, pray prepare him, while I prepare my Bro­ther for a meeting with him; he shall not see me.

Your Servant Brother: No News of Ned yet?

Oh, yes; he has your Son, and the three Rogues in Custody, and will bring 'em hither: Brother, pray resolve not to lose a Son▪ but use him kindly, and forgive him.

I will, Brother: And let him spend what he will, I'll come up to London Feast and Revel, and never take a Minutes care while breath again.

Sir, a young Gentleman would speak with you.

Bid him come in.

If you be Sir Edward Belfond, I come to tell you, what concerns your Honour, and my Love.

I am he.

Know then, Sir, I am inform'd your Brother, Sir Willi­am Belfond's Son, is to Marry Isabella the Niece of Mr. Scrapeall.

What then Sir?

Then he invades my right, I have been many Months Contracted to her, and as you are a Man of Honour, I must tell you, we have seal'd that Contract with Mutual Enjoyments.

How! What was my Son to Marry a Whore? I'll to this Damn'd Fellow instantly, and make him give up my Articles.

Have patience; be not too rash.

Patience! What, to have my Son Marry a Whore.

Look you Brother, you must stay a moment.

Oh, Ned, your Brother has scap'd a fine Match: This same Isabella is Contracted to, and has been Enjoy'd, by this Gentleman, as he calls it: He had like to have Marry'd a Whore.

Yes, that he had; but I will cut the Throat of him that affirms that of Isabella.

Sir, I demand the protection of your House.

Hold, Son.

What Devil sent him hither at this time?

I'll bring 'em to Confront this Rogue, what a De­vil's this? Have we another Brother of that Devil Termagant's here?

This is a very odd Story.

Let me go, Brother; 'tis true enough. But what makes Ned concern'd?

Let us examine yet farther.

Look, here they are all: How the Devil comes this about?

O Madam, are you here! I claim your Contract, which I suppose, will not offend you.

What means this Impudent Fellow? I ne'er saw his Face before.

Yes Madam, you have seen, and more than seen me of­ten since we were Contracted.

What Instrument of Villany is this?

Nay, if you deny: Friends come in.

Friends, do you know this Gentlewoman.

Yes, she is Mr. Scrapeall's Niece.

We were both Witnesses to a Contract of Marriage between you too.

Oh Impious Wretches! What Conspiracy is this!

Can any thing be more plain? They seem Civil, Grave, Substantial Men.

Hold, hold, have I found ye? 'Tis she, it could be no other Devil but her self.

A Woman!

Secure those Witnesses.

A Woman! No: She has out-sinn'd her Sex, and is a Devil. Oh Devil, most compleat Devil! This is the Lady I have been so much of late oblig'd to.

This is she that told us the fine Story to day.

I know her Face again: Most Infamous Lying Creature!

I am become desperate: Have at thee.

Thank you Madam: Are not you a Devil? 'Twas loaden, 'twas well meant truly.

Lay hold on her: I'll send her to a place where she shall be tam'd, I never yet heard of such malice:

Dear Ned, thou hast so oblig'd me; thou melt'st my Heart: That thou shoud'st steal away those Ladies, and save me 5000 l. Now, I hope, Madam, my Son Tim shall be your Hus­band without Bargain and Sale.

No: I can assure you, Sir, I wou'd never have perform'd that Bargain of my Unkles: We had determin'd to dispose of our selves before that; and now are more resolv'd.

We have broken Prison, by the help of these Gentlemen, and I think we must e'en take the Authors of our Liberty.

Will not that be a little hard, Cousin, to take their Liber­ty from them, who have given it to us?

Well, I am disappointed; but cannot blame thee, Ned.

Your Son: Pray use him kindly.

I have been Betray'd, Cheated, and Abus'd: Upon my Knees I beg your Pardon, and never will offend you more; adad, I will not: I thought they had been the honestest, the Fi­nest Gentlemen in England; and it seems they are Rogues, Cheats, and Blockheads.

Rise Tim, I prosess thou makest me weep, thou has subdu'd me; I forgive thee, I see all Human Care is vain, I [Page 84] will allow thee 500 l. a year, and come, and live with Ease and Pleasure here: I'll Feast, and Revel, and wear my self with pain and care no more.

A thousand Thanks: I'll ne'er displease you while I live agen; adad I wont. Here's an Alteration: I ne'er had good word from him before.

I would have Marry'd you to that pretty Lady: But your Brother has been too hard for you.

She's very pretty: But 'tis no matter. I am in no such haste, but I can stay and see the World first.

Welcome dear Nephew, to my House and me: And now my dear Son be free, and before all this Company let me know all the Incumbrances you have upon you.

That good natur'd Lady is the only one that's hea­vy upon me, I have her Child in my possession, which she says, is mine.

Has he my Child; then I am undone for ever—Oh curs'd misfortune!

Look you Madam, I will settle an Annuity of 100 l. a year, upon you so long as you shall not disturb my Son: And for your Child I'll breed her up and provide for her like a Gen­tlewoman: But if you are not quiet you shall never see her more.

You speak like a Noble Gentleman: I'll strive to com­pose my self. I am at last subdu'd, but will not stay to see the Triumphs—

Well, dear Ned, dost owe any Money?

No, my dear Father, no: You have been too boun­tiful for that: I have five hundred Guineas in my Cabinet.

Now Madam, if you please to accept him for a Hus­band, I will settle Fifteen Hundred Pound a Year on him in pre­sent, which shall be your Jointure. Besides that, your own mo­ny shall be laid out in Land and settled on you too. And at my Death the rest of my Estate.

You do me too much Honour, you much out-bid my Value.

You best of Fathers, and of all Mankind, I throw my self thus at your Feet; let me embrace your knees, and kiss those hands.

Come rise, and kiss these hands.

A long farewel to all the Vanity and Lewdness of Youth: I offer my self at your feet as a Sacrifice without a blem­ish now!

Rise, I beseech you, rise.

Your offers, Sir, are better much than I could expect or can deserve.

That's impossible: the Wealth of both the Indies could not buy you from me I am sure

Come, come, I have been Governess, I know their minds. Come give your hands where you have given your hearts. Here Friend Truman: first take this.

My Governess will have it so.

Joy Sir, be ever with you: Please to make my House your own.

How can I be secure you will not fall to your old courses agen?

I have been so sincere in my Confessions, you may trust me; but I call Heav'n to witness, I will hereafter be entire­ly yours. I look on Marriage as the most solemn Vow a man can make; and 'tis by consequence, the basest Perjury to break it.

Come, come, I know your mind too: take him, take him.

If Fate will have it so.

Let me receive this blessing on my knees.

You are very devout of late.

A thousand blessings on you both.

Perpetual happiness attend you both.

Brother and Madam! I wish you Joy from my heart, adad I do: Tho' between you and I Brother, I intend to have my swing at Whoring, and Drinking, as you had, before I come to it tho.

Here! bring in these Rogues!

Come Rascals, I shall take a care to see examples made of you.

VVe have substantial Bail.

I'le see it shall be substantial Bail: it is my Lord Chief Justices Warrant, returnable to none but him: but I will prose­cute you, I assure you.

Squire, dear Squire.

Good noble Squire speak for us.

Dear Cousin!

Oh Rogues! Cousin, you have Couzen'd me: you made a Putt, a Caravan, a Bubble of me: I gave a Judgment for 1600 l. and had but 250. but there's some Goods they talk of; but if e're I be catch'd again I'le be hang'd.

Unconscionable Villains! the Chancery shall relieve us.

I'le Rout this knot of most pernicious Knaves, for all the Priviledge of your Place. Was ever such impudence suffer'd in a Government? Ireland's Conquer'd: Wales Subdu'd: Scot­land United: But there are some few spots of Ground in London, just in the face of the Government, unconquer'd yet, that hold in Rebellion still. Methinks 'tis strange, that places so near the Kings Palace should be no parts of his Dominions: 'Tis a shame to the Societies of Law to Countenance such Practices: Should any place be shut against the Kings Writ or Posse Comitatus? Take them away and those two Witnesses.

Away with em, Rogues! Ras­cals, damn'd Priggs.

Come Ladies, I have sent for some Neighbours to rejoice with us. We have Fiddles: Let's dance a brisk round or two, and then we'll make a Collation.

Oh Sir William, I am undone ruin'd: The Birds are flown. Read the Note they left behind 'em.

Peace, they are Dancing, they have dispos'd of them­selves.

Oh Seed of Serpents! Am I cheated then? I'll try a Trick of Law, you Froggs of the bottomless Pit, I will and instantly— What Dancing too? then they are fallen indeed.

Come Brother, now who has been in the right, you or I?

You have: Prithee do not triumph.

You, that would breed your Children well, by Kind­ness and Liberality endear em to you: And teach em by Exam­ple.