THou great Lucreti [...]s! Thou profound Oracle of Wi [...] and Sence! thou art no Trifling-Lándskip-Poet, no Fantastick Heroick Dreamer, with empty De­scriptions of Impossibilities, and mighty sounding Nothings. Thou reconcil'st Philosophy with Verse, and dost, almost alone, demonstráte that Poetry and Good Sence may go together.

Bruce, Good Morrow; what great Author ar [...] thou▪ chewing the Cud upon? I look'd to have found you with▪ your▪ Head-ake, and your Morning-Qualms.

We should not live always hot-headed; we should give our selves leave sometimes to think.

Lucretius! Divine Lucretius: But my Noble Epicure­an▪ what an Unfashionable Fellow▪ art thou, that in this Age art given to understand Latine?

'Tis true, Longvil, I am a bold Fellow to pretend to it, when 'tis accounted Pedantry for a Gentleman to spell, and where the Race of Gentlemen is more degenerated than that of Horses.

It must needs be so: for Gentlemen care not upon what strain they g [...]t [...]heir So [...], nor how they [...] 'em, when they [Page 2] have got 'em: the best of 'em now have a kind of Education like Pages; and you shall [...] [...] a Young Fellow of this Age that does not look like one of those overgrown Animals newly manum [...]tted from [...]unk-Breeches.

Some are first Instructed by Ignorant-young-houshold­Pedan [...]s, who dare not whip the Dunces, their Pupils, for fear of their Lady-Mothers▪ then before they can Conster and Pearce, they are sent into France, with sordid illiterate Creatures, call'd Dry'd-Nurses, or Gov [...]rnors; Engines of as little use as Pacing-Saddies, and as unfit to Govern 'em as the Post-Horses they ride to Paris on: From whence they return with a little smattering of that Mighty, Universal Language, without being ever able to write [...]rue English.

O but then they'l v [...]lue 'em for speaking good French.

Perhaps good French may be spoken with little sence; but good English cannot.

Thou art in the right: but then there are a sort of hope­ful Youths that do not [...]ravel; and they are either such as keep Company with their Sisters, and visit their Kindred, and are a great co [...]fort to their Mothers, and a scorn to all others; or they are sparks that early break loose from D [...]scipline, and at Sixteen [...]or sooth set up for Men of the Town.

Such as come Drunk and Screaming into a Play-House, and stand upon the Benches, and toss their full Periwigs and empty Heads, and with their shrill unbroken Pipes, cry, Dam-me, this is a Damn'd Play; Prethee let's to a Whore, Jack. Then says another with great Gallantry, pulling out his Box of Pills, Dam­me. Tom, I am not in a condition; here's my Turpentine for my Third Clap: when you would [...]hink he was not old enough to be able to get one.

Heav'n be prais'd, these Youths, like untimely Fruit, are like to be rotten before they are ripe!

These are sure the only Animals that live without thinking: A Sensible Plant has more imagination than most of 'em.

Gad, if they go on as they begin, the Gentlemen of the next Age will scarce have Learning enough to claim the benefit of the Clergy f [...]r Man-slaughter.

The highest pitch our Youth do generally arrive at▪ is to have a [...]orm, a fashion of Wit, a Rotine of spe [...]king, which they get by i [...]itation; and generally they imitate the extra­vagancies [Page 3] of witty Men drunk, which they very discreetly practice [...]ober; but in so clumsie and awkard a way, that methinks it should make witty men out of love with their Vices; as Prenti­ces wearing Pantaloons, would make Gentlemen lay by the Habit.

These are sad Truths: but I am not such a fop to dis­quiet my self one minute for a thousand of 'em.

You have Reason, say what we can, the Beastly Restive World will go its way; and there is not so foolish a Crea­ture as [...] Reformer.

Thank Heav'n, I am not such a publick-spirited fop, to lose one moment of my private pleasure for all that can hap­pen without me.

Thou art a Philosopher: and now thou talk'st of pri­vate pleasure, what think'st thou of our Adventure with Clarin­da and Miranda, the Vertuoso's, Sir Nicholas Gimcrak's Neeces? See the danger of going to Church, Longvil: I advised thee against it; 'twas a [...]ine Curiosity, and has cost us dear.

Did ever I think we two should be caught any way in a Church?

'Tis a little strange that we, that have run together in­to all the Vices of Men, of Wit and Gentlemen, should at last together fall into the Vice of Fools and Country-Squires, Love.

We that have wonder'd at all other amorous Coxcombs must now laugh at one another. I am amaz'd at thy passion for Clarinda.

And I no less at thine for Miranda. There's Witchcraft in't, to love where there's such apparent difficulty: for [...]irtuoso is as jealous as an Italian Uncle; his jealousie, helpt by the vi­gilancy and malice of that impertinent Strumpet his Wife, keeps 'em from all manner of address. Letters they have received from us, and we can have no answer; what the Devil's left for us to do in this case?

Fall down and worship me! I have found out the No­blest Tool to work with, and the most excellent Coxcomb that Nature e'er began, or Art e're finish'd.

Thou reviv'st my dying hope. Who is't?

A Rascal that is Vertuoso's Admirer, Flatterer, and great Confident, the only Man he'll trust his Neeces with, who has dis­cover'd to me that he has a passion for your Clarinda.

Curse on him: But a Rival's a very improper Instrument.

But this is a Rival so conceited of his own parts, that he can never be jealous of anothers. He is indeed a very choise Spirit; the greatest Master of Tropes and Figures: The most Cicero [...]ian Coxcomb: the noblest Orator breathing; he never speaks without Flowers of Rhetorick; In short, he is very much abounding in words, and very much defective in sense, Sir For­mal Trifle.

He's an Original indeed, the most Florid Knight alive; I have some little knowledge of him.

I have perswaded him, that you and I are the greatest Philosophers, and the greatest Admirers of the Virtuoso and his Works that can be: This has already produc'd that good ef­fect, that Sir Formal has this morning been with me from his no­ble Friend Sir Nicholas, to invite me to come to his House to see a Cock-Lobster dissected, and afterwards to Dine with him; and will be here with the same Message to you.

How I applaud thy Wit! but why wouldst not thou communicate thy design before-hand?

I was resolv'd to surprise thee with it if it took, and to conceal it if it did not,

Sir Samuel Hearty has sent you word, he will come and give you a visit.

There's an Ass, an Original of another kind; one that thinks that all Mirth consists in noise, tumult, and violent laughter: At once, the merriest and the dullest Rogue alive—One that affects a great many nonsensical by-words, which he takes to be Wit, and uses upon all occasions.

But the best part of his Character is behind; he is the most amorous Coxcomb, the most designing and adventurous Knight alive; a great Masquerader, and has forty several dis­guises to make love in; and has been the most unlucky Fellow breathing, in that and all other adventures. He has never made Love where he was not refus'd, nor wag'd War where he was not beaten. Here he is.

Tom. Bruce. Good morrow to thee. Dear Jack Long­vil, how dost do? 'Faith I wish'd you with me last night; we were a knot of merry Rogues of thirteen or fourteen of us got [Page 5] together, sung, and tore, and roar'd, and ranted 'igad all wea­thers, and drunk and laugh'd Dagger out o'sheath, I vow to gad: We were upon the high Ropes, i'faith. Hey poop—troll—come aloft Boys—ha-ha-ha. Ah Rogues, that you had been with us, 'ifaith. Ha-ha-ha.

[...] and wou'd we had.

'Igad Boys: we'd have paid you off. We swing'd it away 'ifaith: We were so merry, o'my Conscience, you might have heard us half a mile.

What a Divine hearing was that?

'Faith I was pure company, I was never on a better pin in my life. There was one of the Company wou'd needs pre­tend to be a Wit forsooth; but 'ifaith Boys I run him down so, the Devil take me, he had not a word to throw at a Dog about business. When ever he was impertinent, I took him up with my old repartée; Peace, said I, Tace is Latine for a Candle; and when e'er he began again, Tace is Latine for a Candle again said I. Thus I run him down with a Hey poop! Whoo! ha-ha­ha! he had not a word, not one word, I vow to gad. Ha-ha-ha!

As this Fellow thinks all mirth consists in noise, so he thinks all Wit is in running a Man down, as he calls it; not considering that impudence does that better.

'Faith I was very frolick; and there came a fellow abruptly into our company. I whip'd him up to. Hey! slap, dash! gave him a kick in the arse to drink, and made Pilgarlike go ten times faster down stairs than he came up, i'faith, Boys

But this may cost you a Challenge, Sir Samuel.

Challenge! igad if he does challenge me, I'll run him through the Lungs about that bus'ness. He shall not only blow out a Candle with his wound, but the Sun shall shine through him. Pox! he's a raw fellow, he does not know what 'tis to have a Towel drawn through his Body.

This Fellow's brains, like some bottle-beer, fly all intofroth.

So brisk and dull a Rogue I never saw.

Come, 'faith we are choice Lads, and should make much of one another. I have indeed to night an Intrigo with a Lady, and I am to venture in a disguise. I give a Masquerade you know, and, I hope will be there. But to morrow night, 'faith I'll be very drunk about business. Ha Boys! ha! ha!

Sir, one Sir Formal Trifle bids me tell you, he's come to pay his Devoir to you; he charged me to use that expression, I know not what he means by it.

'Twas very quaintly exprest: desire him to come up.

Oh I have often seen him at Sir Nicholas Gimcrack's house, the Virtuoso; 'faith of a grave fellow, he's a very inge­nious Rogue, and i'gad he has a fine way with him—

I never knew any man that had a way with him (as they call it) that was not a Coxcomb.

He has a notable Vein of Oratory, a brave Delivery; and when he's in the humor, i'gad he'll speak finely, finely ve­ry finely.—

Gentlemen, I humbly kiss all your hands in gene­ral, but, Sir, yours in a more particular manner.

Sir Formal, your most humble Servant; you do me a great deal of honour in this visit.

Sir, I never could admit a thought within the slen­der Sphere of my imagination, that could once suggest to me the not meeting with a good reception, from a person that is so strictly oblig'd by, and so nicely practis'd in the severer rules and stricter methods of honour, as you are.

Sir, you oblige me with your fair Char [...]cter.

Upon my sincerity, I wholly eschew all Oratory, and Compliments, with persons of your worth and generosity. And though I must confess upon due occasions, I am extremely delighted with those pretty spruce expressions, wherewith Wit and Eloquence use to tric [...] up humane thoughts, and with the gaudy dress that smoother Pens so finely cloth them in, yet I never us'd the least tincture of Rhetorick with my Friend, which I hope you'll do me the Honor to let me call you—I think I am florid—

I told you i'faith he'd speak notably; he has a Sil­ver Tongue.

Oyes! a Golden one! What would such Coxcombs do, if there were not greater to admire them? This Sir Formal is call'd a well-spoken man, with a pox to him—▪

Sir, I shall think my self honored with the Title of your Servant.

It is so much to my advantage, that I do assure you, Sir Formal Trifle shall never give Mr Bruce any occasion to believe, that he shall omit any opportunity of avowing him­self to all the World, to be the most humble and obedient of his Servants. Sweet Mr. Longvil, having already this morning paid my devoir to you, I shall at present onely tell you that, which I hope is no news to you; to wit, that I am your most humble Servant. There I think I was concise and florid.

You do me too much honor.

Is [...] so great a Rascal upon earth as an Orator, that wou'd slur and top upon our understandings, and impose his false conceits for true reasoning, and his florid words for good sense?

Your [...]ully, with his false Dice and Box, is an honester man.

Truly Sir, I am afflicted at the late falling out between Sir Nicholas and your noble self, which has deprived me of so frequently enjoying the honor of kissing your fair hands there.

O Lord, Sir, your Servant, your Servant: 'faith I am very sorry for't too. But I shall be glad to wait upon you, and drink his health in a glass of Burgundy, and be very merry about bus [...]ness: He's a fine person 'ifaith, though he does not care much for Wit▪

And now Mr Bruce after these little digressions which my particular esteem of every person in this presence has enga­ged me to, I am to inform you, that my nob [...]e Friend Sir Ni­cholas Gim [...]rack does by me invite you, with your Friend, being Philosophers, and consequently his Admirers, to come to his house this fore-noon, to see the dissection of a little Animal [...], commonly called a Chichester Cock-Lo [...]ster; and afterwards to take a dish of meat, and discourse of the noble Operation, and to sport an Author over a Glass of Wine.

Ha! this will prove for my design.

Give me your Orator for dispatch. What a flourish the Rogue has made to invite us to dinner.

Sir, I will not do my self the injure to fail two fuch Ingenious and Learned men as Sir Nicholas and your self▪

Alass, Sir, [...] I am but his shadow, his humble Ad­mirer; but I will undertake for him▪ Fame has not promis'd [Page 8] more of him to your expectation, than he will perform to your understanding. Trust me, he is the finest speculative Gentleman in the whole World, and in his Cogitations the most serene A­nimal alive: Not a Creature so little, but affords him great Curiosities: He is the most admirable person in the Meletetiques, viz. in Refl [...]ctions and Meditations, in the whole World. Not a Creature so inanimate, to which he does not give a Tongue; he makes the whole World Vocal; he makes Flowers, nay, Weeds, speak eloquently, and, by a noble kind of Prosopopeia, instruct Mankind.

And, Sir, though I ignore not what the envy of Detractors have express'd of him, yet, in short, I opine him to be the most curious and inquisitive Philosopher breathing; and I will let him know you intend to wait on him; within two hours he will show. 'Tis his time of Operation.

We will not fail. What an Employment has this Fool under him? he is the Chorus to his Puppet-show.

I would rather be Trumpeter to a Monster, and call in the Rabble to see a Calf with six legs, than shew such a Block­head.

'Pray, Sir, commend me heartily to Sir Nicholas, and tell h [...]m, Faith and Troth I am sorry my Wit should offend him; and I shall henceforth endeavor to be as dull as I can to merit his esteem. I confess I was a little too aiery and brisk about that bus▪ness: but 'faith I am his most humble Servant, and have a Sword and Arm at his service, and 'gad will draw it against any man breathing, in defence of his Person and Philosophy; and so let him know from Sir Samuel.

I shall perform your commands, and doubt not but to do you service in it. Gentlemen agen, I kiss your hands.

Sir Samuel, how came your Wit to offend the Vir­tuoso?

'Faith I was very well there; but you know I am an aiery brisk merry Fellow, and facetious: and his grave Phi­losophical humor, did not agree with mine. Besides, h does not value Wit at all, he wo'nt be pleas'd with you, I assure you.

Why so?

Why, he did not like me at all; he's an enemy to Wit, as all Vertuoso's are.

Sure if he had lik'd Wit, he would have lik'd you.

That I think without vanity, but you must know, I pretended to Miranda.

Pox on him, what says he?

And not to boast, I found my love would have had a good reception; but her malicious Sister, Clarind [...], dis­cover'd my Intriguo, and Sir Nicholas forbad me his house upon that bus'ness.

What exception had he against you?

Why faith he would not dispose of his Niece to a Wit, he said.

A Wit! 'faith he might as well have call'd thee a Dromedary.

Peace, I say; Tace is Latine for a Candle, Ha-ha-ha. You know I can run you down. In short, he said▪ I was a Wit, a flashy Wit. But if you have any kindness in the World for me, you might help me in this Intriguo.

How so?

Now you are invited, let me wait on you in a Li­very for one of your Footmen. I have forty several Periwigs for these Intriguo's and bus'nesses: 'gad if you will whip▪ slap­dash—I'll bring this bus'ness about as round as a Hoop.

Prethee, Longvil▪ let him go, that we may make sport with him, and abuse the Rogue damnably.

'Sdeath! what, bring him to my Mistriss!

Canst thou be jealous of so silly a Rascal?

'Tis ill trusting the fantastick appetites of Women; they are subject to the Green-sickness of the mind, as well as that of the body: One makes them love Fools and Block-heads, as the other does Dirt and Char-coal.

She's a Woman of Wit; besides, let him wear your Livery, and by your prerogative you may kick your Rival all this day, if he should be sawcy, which he will certainly be.

That consideration prevails with me.

What say you, Boys? is it not an admirable Intri­guo?—Hah!—

Sir Samuel, there is some difficulty: but, to serve you, we can refuse nothing. You shall do me the honour to wear a Livery of mine; I have new ones come home this morn­ing my man will give you one.

If I do not my bus'nes [...], Jack▪ I am the Son of a Tin­der-box.

Well! Pray Mr. Tinder-box, go about it quickly.

Gad I'll do't instantly, in the twinkling of a Bed­staff. Ha-ha-ha.

In the twinkling of what?

Hey! pull away, Rogues; in the twinkling of a Bed-staff! a witty way I have of expressing my self. I'll away.

Was there ever so sensless a Fop? words are no more to him than breaking wind, they only give him vent; they serve not with him to express thoughts, for he does not think.

A Wit! a flashy Wit! a flashy Wit! What a dull Villain is this Virtuoso; But prethee take all occasions to kick this flashy Wit much; he'll give thee enough.

Pox on him▪ he has read Seneca: he ca [...]es not for kicking; he never scap'd kicking in any disguise he ever put on.

Nor in [...]ny of his own habits neither. But I'll in and dress me.

Were ever Women so confin'd in England by a foo­lish Uncle? worse than an Italian. But that I should be loath to speak ill of the dead, I should think my Father was not Compos mentis when he made his Will, to bequeath us to the government of a Virtuoso only, because his first Wife was our Aunt.

A Sot, that has spent 2000l. iu Microscopes, to find out the Nature of Eels in Vinegar, Mites in a Cheese, and the Blu [...] of Plums, which he has subtilly found out to be living Creatures.

One who has broken his brains about the nature of Magots▪ who has stud [...]'d these twenty years to [...] out the several sorts of Spiders, and never cares for un [...]standing Mankind.

Shal we never get free from his jealousie, and the ma­lice of [...]is impertinent Wife?

Though he be jealous of us, yet h [...]'s as tame a civil London Husband to his Wife, as she can wish—who certainly Cuckolds him abundantly.

She hate [...] us in her heart, because she thinks we see too much. To be confin'd, and to such impertinence too, puts me beyond all patience.

▪Twill make Dogs [...]urst to be ty'd up, and sure 'twill provoke free-born Women more?

We should have as good company in [...] Go a; for none but Quacks and Fools come hither; and one of the worst of 'em is my foolish florid Coxcombe, Sir Formal.

He has banish'd my Coxcomb, Sir Samuel; a brisk airy Fool, that there is some diversion in. He had as many tricks as a well educated Spaniel, would fetch and carry, and come over a stick for the King: He had some tricks of a Man too, and may pass Muster among the young gay fellows of this Town; and could sing all the new Tunes and Songs at the Play-hou­ses.

And we are troubled with an old Fellow here in the House, his Uncle Snarl, a great Declaimer against the Vices of the Age, a clownish blunt Satyrical Fellow; a hater of all young people, and new Fashions.

But he is such a froward testy old fellow, he should be Wormed like a mad Dog.

We try his patience sometimes; but I am pleas'd to hear him abuse the Virtuoso his Nephew, who bears all in hope of his Estate. Snarle is a Fellow spares no body, always speaks what he thinks, and does what he pleases. But yet▪ Miranda, there's a worse misfortune than all this, that we two should, in a Church, when we should ha'been thinking of something else, fall in love with two men of Wit and Pleasure, who are two much Men of the Town to think of Marriage, we being too little Women of the Town to think of any other Love.

We have Fortunes good enough to lure them to Ma­trimony, if that were all; but the worst part of the story is, he whom I love is in love with yo [...], and your Man makes ad­d [...]esses to me, as their Letters tell us: And even these Men we cannot see, but at Church, or at a Play-house, when we are guarded by our malicious watchful Aunt.

If we could but see these Men privately, there yet might be some hopes; we might each of us use our Lover s [...]urvily, and him we love we might charm with kindness; [Page 12] for they are men that have known the pomps and vanities of this wicked World, too much to love a face onely.

If we could bring this about, I would stand out at [...]o­thing that might procure our freedome; the mischief is, if we rebel, Virtuoso will allow us nothing out of our Fortunes till we come of age.

Then we must e'en live upon the credit of a Reversion, as so [...]e young fellows do that wish their Fathers hang'd: I warrant thee we'll find credit.

And lose our Reputations: we have much ado to keep 'em as we are.

Let what will come on't, I am resolved to break out: he shall sooner stop a Tide than my Inclinations.

Oh if your Knight Errants and we agree upon the point, they'll soon deliver us distressed Damsels from our En­chanted Castle.

'Tis a fine morning: fetch me a Pipe of Tobacco and a Match into the Garden.

Here's old Snarl, he has call'd for his Tobacco too: he smoaks all day like a Kitchen-chimney.

Prethee let's teaze him a little, 'tis the greatest pleasure we have. Morrow Uncle—

How now you Baggages! what do you abro [...]d thus early? you us'd to be stewing a bed till eleven a clock, like paltry lazy Cockatrices, that are good for nothing, by the Mass: You'll make excellent Wives, Cuckold your Husbands immoderately: You mind nothing but prinking your selves up. A wholesome good housewifely Countrey Wench is worth a thousand of you, in sadness.

You have a course stomach, and to such a one a Surloin of Beef were better than a dish of Wheat ears.

A man must have [...] lusty stomach that has a mind to any of▪the Town-Ladies; they have so many tricks to disguise themselves, washing, painting, patching, and their damn'd ugly new-fashion'd dresses, that a Man knows not what to make on 'em, by t [...]e Mass: Besides, I have not heard, that their Reputa­tions are famous all over the World.

You are an old fashion'd Fellow, Uncle▪ and think no [Page 13] Dress handsome, but that which Ladies wore at the Coronation of the last King.

And think no Ladies honest, but your old formal Crea­tures, that were in fashion in the year 1640▪ and censure all Ladies that have freedom in their carriage.

Freedom with a pox! ay, 'tis freedom indeed: But the last Age was an Age of innocence, you young Sluts you; now a company of Jillflirts, flanting vain Cockatrices, take more pains to lose Reputation, than those did to preserve it. I am afraid the next Age will have very few that are lawfully begotten in't, by the Mass. Besides, the young Fellows are like all to be effeminate Coxcombs, and the young Women Strumpets, in sadness, all Strumpets by the Mass.

You are a fine old Sa [...]yr indeed; 'twere well if you decri'd Vices for any other reason but that you are past them.

You pert Baggages, you think you are very hand­some now, I warrant you. What a devil's this pound of hair upon your paltry frowses for? what a Pox are those Patches for? what are your faces sore? I'd not kiss a Lady of this Age, by the Mass, I'd rather kiss my horse.

Heav'n, for the gener [...]l good of our Sex, keep you still in that mind.

Some Ladies with scabs and pimples on their faces in­vented patches, and those that have none must follow: Just as our young Fellows imitate the French; their Summer fashion of going op [...]-breasted came to us at Micha [...]lmas, and we wore it all Winter; and their Winter-fashion of buttoning close their strait-long-wasted Coats, that made them look like Monkies, came not to us [...]ill A [...]arch, and our Coxcombes wore it all Summer. Nay, I'll say that for your comfort, the young fashio­nable Fellows of [...]he Town have as little Wit as you have.

You had a better opinion of our Sex sure in your youth, were you never in love?

O yes, with himself alway▪

Never with any such as you, I thank Heaven, I was never such an Ass; I'd not be such a Puppy for the World, in sadness.

Pish: you are an old insignificant Fellow, Nuncle, such as you should be destroyed, like Drones that have lost their [...] and afford no Honey.

Marry come up, you young Slut, are you so liquorish after the Honey of Man? in sadness this is fine.

You have no pleasure but drinking, and smoaking, and riding with your Gambadoes on your little pacing Tit, to take a Pipe, and drink a cup of Ale at Hamstead or Highgate.

Prethee, you prating Slut, do not trouble me with your impertinence. What pleasure can a Man have in this cox­combly, scandalous Age; in sadness, I am almost asham'd to live i [...]'t, by the Mass.

Then die in it, as soon as you can, if you do not like it▪

Met [...]inks, though all pleasures have left you, you may go to see Plays.

I am not such a Coxcomb, I thank God: I have seen 'em at Bla [...]k-Fryers; pox, they act like Poppets now in sadness, I, that have seen Joseph Taylor, and Lowen, and Swanstead: Oh a brave roaring Fellow! would make the house shake again. Besides, I can never endure to see Plays since Women came on the Stage, Boys are better by half.

But here are a great many new Plays.

New ones! yes, either damn'd insipid dull Farces, confounded toothless Satyrs, or plaguy Rhiming Plays, with s [...]urvy Hero's, worse than the Knight of the Sun, or Amadis de Ga [...]l; by the Mass. Pish, why should I talk with such foolish Girls. Here, Sirra, give me my Pipe of Tobacco, with the Match. So—

Go now, and fetch me a lusty Tankerd of Ale, with Nut­meg and Sugar in't—

Prethee do thee fling away his Cane, and I'll break his Pipe, which will almost break his heart—

Agreed. Fie Nuncle, is this your breeding, to take nasty Tobacco, and stink much before Ladies?

A way with it.

'Sdeath! you sawcy Jades, what's this? I'll thrum you; 'twas well you flung away my Cane, you young Sluts; in sadness I'd ha'made Bamboo fly about your Jackets else, by the Mass. Ha! 'tis not broken all to pieces.

'Ounds! you young Jades, I'll maul you, you Strumpets, you damn'd Cocka [...]rices: I'll disinherit my Nephew, if he does not turn you out of doors, you Crocadills.

That's it we'd have, we'l weary you both of your lives till you bring it about.

You young Jades, you Strumpets.

Let's away, he▪ll beat us.

Ladies, whither so gay, and in such hast? Is Sir Nicholas here?

No no, Clarinda, come away.

Let me first violently ravish a k [...]ss from your fair hands; I had this morning, ere I went out, tender▪d you my ser­vice of this day; had I not opin'd, I should too early have di­sturb'd your Beauty: but, Madam, you ignore not, that those venturous Blossoms, whose over-hasty obedience to the early Spring, does anticipate the proper Season, do of [...]en suffer from [...]he injuries of severer weather, unless protected by the happy patronage of some more benign shelter.

Farewell, I am in hast—

Her departure savors somewhat of abruptness—

Strumpets, Jades!

Sweet Mr. Snarl, had my eyes sooner encounter'd you, I had more early paid you the Tribute of my respect, which I opine to be so much your due, that though I ignore not that you are happy in having many Admirers, yet—

'Ounds, if I be not reveng'd on those Cockatrices.

Yet I say, none of 'em is endu'd with a more zea­lous heart to do you service, than your most humble Servant Sir▪ Formal Triste.

Pox! What do you trouble me with your foolish Rhetorick?

What is it so disorders the Operative Faculties of your noble Soul? But I beseech you argue yo [...] me not of Or [...] ­tory; though I confess it to be a great virtue to be florid: nor [Page 16] is there in the whole World so generous and Prince-like a Qua­lity as Oratory—

Prince-like, Pimp-like in sadness! I never knew a [...] Orator that was not a Rascal, by the Mass: Orators are fool­ish flashy Coxcombs, of no sense or judgment, turn'd with every wind; they are never of the same opinion half an hour together, nor ever speak of the opinion they are of. Pox o'your Tropes and Flowers.

Sir, upon my honour you mistake me still. I assure you I am a person—

Whom I hope to see hang'd—

O Sir, you are in a merry humor: but, in good earnest, there is not a person in the whole World that is a greater admi [...]er of your politer parts than my self.

Pshhaw! pox of admi [...]ers; pish! what care I whether you be or no. Prethee, pish! you are very troublesome, in sadness.

Well Sir, you will have your pretty humors, you are dispos'd to be merry.

Merry! Oh your Jack-pudding! merry quo [...]h a! [...]ounds you lie—

Sir, I have often intreated you to avo [...]d passion, it drowns your parts, and obstructs the faculties of your mind, while a serene Soul, like that which I wear about me, operates clearly, notwithstanding the oppression of Clay, and the clog of my sordid humane Body.

In sadness! would you were hang'd, that your serene Soul might be free from your sordid humane Body; 'tis a very sordid one, by the Mass.

O Sir, I will retire, and take away all occasions of your uttering things that r [...] vera, are more injurious to your self, than reflecting on me. I take my leave, Sir.

You do well in so doing, by the Mass. It's a fine life I live here: I am tormented with a couple of young ramping Sluts; and then there's my Nephew's Wife, the most imper­tinent foolish Creature breathing. Then my Nephew is such a Co [...]comb, he has studi'd [...]hese twenty years about the na­t [...]e of Lice, Spiders, and Insects; and has been as long com­piling a Book of Geography for the World in the Moon Did he not give me my Board for nothing, in hopes of my Estate, [Page 17] I'd not stay here—But above all Villaim, and tedious insipid Blockheads, this Sir Formal is the greatest; he is the most intollerable plague I have: I could—

WE are here to our wishes; and neither the Virtu­oso, nor his Master of his Ceremonies within: If we could but meet with the Ladies now—

Ay, if the Ladies were but here—you should see how I wou'd shew my parts. Whip-slap-dash. I'd come up roundly with A [...]iranda, faith Boy [...]—ha—

A pox o'this fellow, he'll be intollerable: I see there's no tempering with that Edge tool call'd a Fool—

I am disguis'd Cap a pe to all intents and purposes, and if any Man manages an Intriguo better than I, I will never hope for a Masquerade more, or expect to Dance my self again into any Lady's affection, and about that business. Come aloft, Sir Samuel, I say—

But sweet Sir Samuel, if you discover your self, you will be turn'd out of the house, and we for company.

Let me alone; pox, if I should be discove [...]'d, Ill bring you off as round as a hoop, in the twinkling of an Oyster­shell. But gad I cannot conceal my self from my Mistriss; my Love and Wit will break out now and then a little about the edges, or I shall burst, faith and troth.

[...]onder come the Ladies—Good Sam. keep your Distance.

My distance! why the Ladies are by themselves; I'll present you to 'em, I'll introduce you. Come along, pull away, Boys. Now, my choice Lad [...]. Hey poop, come alo [...]t, Boy— [...]ah—

Do you hear, Sir Samuel, act the Footman a little bet­ter, or by Heav'n I'll turn you out-of my Livery.

What a pox, you are upon the High Ropes now. Prethee, Longvil, hold thy peace, with a whip-stich, your nose in my breech, I know what I have to do mun—Do you think to make a fool of Pil-garlick?

By Heav'n, Pil-garlick, I'll cut your throat, if you ad­vance beyond your post—Stand Centry there.

If you do not, Sam. you'll find your Master very cho­lerick, honest Sam.

Cholerick! what a pox care I; how shall I shew my parts about this business? if I should stand here. Pshaw, Prithe [...] hold thy peace—

Sirra, stand there, and mind your waiting—Damme stand still—

What a pox does he mean now? O'my Conscience and Soul he has been a drinking hard this morning, and is half­Seas over already.

Ladies your humble Servant.

How long have we pray [...]d to Heav'n for this opportu­nity of kissing your hands!

I see then you can be devout upon some occasions.

We shew'd our devotion sufficiently the first time we saw you; 'tw [...]s in a Church Ladies—

Lo [...]! that it shoul [...] be ou [...] [...] [...] [...]ee you in a place so little us'd by you.

I warr [...]nt they came hither as th [...]y do [...] a Play-house, bolting out of some eating-house, having [...] else to do in an idle after-noon.

'Tis a wonder they do not come as the Spark [...] do to a Play-house too, full of Champagn, venting very much noise, and very little wit—

What ever your intentions a [...]e, I am sure it is a very wicke [...] thing for you to go to Church.

How so, Sir?

Why to seduce zealous young men, as we might have b [...]n, but for you.

Your zeal will never do you hurt I warrant you.

You for your part committed Sacriledge, and rob'd Heav'n of all my thoughts.

That's strange, for I assure you, none of mine e'r stray'd towards you.

I am glad to find you can be so very zealous: They that can be so very violent in that higher sort of zeal, will of­ten be so in a lower—I am glad to see my Mistriss violent in any passion; 'tis ten to one Love will have its turn then.

You could not but observe my great zeal to you, Ma­dam; had I soar'd ne'r so high, you would have lured me down again.

Alass, Sir, you never soar so high, but any lure will bring you down with a swoop, I warrant you.

You are he that have pester'd me with your Billets Doux: your fine little fashionable Notes ti'd with filk.

Yes, I have presented several Bills of Love upon you, and you would never make good payment of [...]ny of 'em.

Would you have one answer a Bill of Love at sight? that's onely for substantial Traders: young Beginners dare not venture, they ought to be cautious.

Not, when they know him to be a responsable Mer­chant they have to deal with?

Such, who keep a correspondence with too many Facto­ries, venture too much, and are in danger of breaking.

My Sister's in the right: 'Tis more danger trusting Love with such, than Money with Go [...]dsmiths; especially considering most Men are apt to break in Womens debts. I have received several honorable Summons from you, if I would have accept­ed the Challenges.

I onely provok'd you fairly into the open Field; and 'gad, I wonder you had not honor enough to answer me.

You would have drawn me into some wicked ambush or other, Matrimony or worse, I warrant you—

What a pox do these Fellows mean? I shall stand here till one of them has whipt away my Mistriss about business, with a Hixius Doxius, with the force of Repartee, and this, and that, and every thing in the world.

Why Sirra, Rascal!

Ay, 'tis no matter for that Madam—

You impudent Dog.

Psha! psha! I care not a farthing for this. This is nothing, I am harden'd; I have been kill'd and beaten to all inten [...]s and purposes an hundred times, about intrigues and bu­sinesses▪ Madam, Madam, don't you know me?

What impudent saw [...]y footman's this?

Poor silly Rogue, he must be beaten into good manners.

Ha-ha-ha, that's good i'faith! Poor silly Rogue! that's well. Ha-ha-ha. But all these kicks, and these businesses, and all that, we Men of Intrigue must bear. Prethee, Longvil, do not play the Fool; but let me discover my self—

Sirra, be gone, or I'll beat you most infinitely—

Madam, let us not trifle away those few happy minutes For­tune lends us Lovers. We know your streights, and how few opportunities we are like to have; and therefore let me tell you in short, I am most desperately in love with you.

O Traitor! what says he? I must discover my self quickly about this business, or whip slap—I shall be bob'd of my Mistriss in the twinkling of a Bed-staff.

'Tis true, our opportunities are like to be rare; but I'll improve this so well, we shall need no more—Good Sir, let it not transport you too much: for I do assure you, I am ex­tremely and desperately out of love with you, and shall be so as long as I live.

Say you so, Madam? and are you absolutely and vio­lently resolv'd upon this?

I am.

Faith, Madam, I am glad to hear on't. I never knew a Woman absolutely resolve upon any thing, but she did the contrary.

I hope you' [...] not take example by your hard-hearted Sister, to nip so hopeful a Love in the Bud; but nourish it, and in time 'twill bring forth fruit worth the gathering.

It shall produce none for me, it's a dangerous surfeiting fruit, and I'l ha' none on't.

I'll sing a Song that I us'd to entertain 'em with, and that will discover me. I shall be even with these impudent Fellow [...].

'Sdeath! what does this Rascal mean?

Pox on him; he sings worse than an old Woman a spinning.

How's this? I have heard that charming voice: 'tis ve­ry like a Coxcomb's that used to come hither, one Sir Samuel Hearty.

Peace, Envy, Peace, Coxcomb; she never was so much in the wrong in her life: she was always malicious against me, because I could not love her, poor Fool—Coxcomb, whip-stich, your Nose in my Breech.—Pish.

Hang him, let him discover himself.

'Tis he sure—What project's this? he was ever a great Designer.

I can hold no longer. Madam, you have lost your senses?

'Sdeath! this Rascal puts me beyond all patience. Im­pudent Villain—

Ay, ay, it's no matter for that; it's no matter for that: I can bear any thing for my Mistriss. Don't you know me yet?

'Tis he: I'll make as if I did not know him, and we'll have excellent sport with him.

Hold Sir; by your favor I am resolved to speak with him, and know the meaning of this.

Sirra.

Psha! prethee hold thy tongue, Tace is Latine for a Candle, I say again. I knew I shou'd screw her up to the tune of Love—Now do you know your faithful Servant Sir Samuel?

I do; but have a care, if my Sister discovers you, you are undone.

I warrant you I'll be as secret as a Cockle.

I am sorry you have been so exceedingly beaten and kick'd, Sir—

Psha! psha! it's nothing, nothing. Come, come—'tis well it's no worse—Come, if any man in England out­does me in passive-valor about Intrigues, I am the son of a Tin­der box—

Have a care, she suspects something—

Ay, let me alone—

What sawcy impudent Footman's this? Correct his in­solence, and send him hence, I like not his face—

The truth is, the Rascal is sawcy; but he'll learn better manners.

Good! how the Rogues Love makes her dissemble! Ah cunning Toad!

'Sdeath you Dog! I'll learn you better manners; get you gone.

Pox on you, you over-act a Master, and kick too hard about business—

Do you hear▪ you nonsensical Owl, be gone out of the Garden, or by Heav'n I'll run my Sword in your guts—

Hold, Longvil, do not kill me; 'twill be something uncivil—

Uncivil! what a pox do you talk? Uncivil! why 'twill be murder mun. Uncivil quoth a—Well, I must be gone with a cup of Content, to the tune of a damn'd beating, or so—This is a fine nimble piece of business, that a Man can­not make love to his own Mistris. But I'll come upon him with a Quare impedit, and a good lusty cup of Revenge to boot—

We have discover'd your Fool. Do you want a Fool, that you must bring such a one as Sir Samuel along with you?

Perhaps they thought themselves not able to divert us, and brought him to assist th [...]m—

Faith Ladies, if you make trial of us, if we be not able to divert you, you shall find us very willing.

I am sure if we do not divert you from your cruel re­solutions, we are the most undone men that ever sigh'd, and look'd pale for Ladies, yet—

I do not doubt but some Ladies, such as they are, may have made you look pale and wan.

But a civil Woman could never yet come near your hearts, or alter your faces.

The greatest Generals do not scape always unwoun­ded; you have done my business, Madam.

I have held out a long time against the Artillery of La­dies eyes; but a randome shot has maul'd me at last.

That cannot be; you were the greatest Mutineers against civil Women that could be.

Always shewing your parts against Matrimony, and de­fending the tawdry ill-bred fluttering Wenches o'the Town.

That may be, Madam; but we are taken off.

Ay, Madam; we are taken off.

There's no trusting you; for though you seem to be ta­ken off, as you call it, yet you'll stick fast to your good old Cause.

A Man often parts with his honesty, but never with his opinion for a Bribe—

Mr. Bruce and Mr. Longvil in the Garden with my Nieces, say you! young Sluts! do they snap at all the Game that comes hither? what are they discoursing of?

Why to the Tune of Love, Madam; what should young Gentlemen and Ladies talk of else?

O impudent Gill-flirts! cannot one young Gentle­man scape 'em? Are they making Love to my Nieces, say you?

Yes, that they are, Madam, with a helter-skelter, whip-dash, as round as a hoop, what shou'd they do else? I'll retire—

That's Mr. Bruce, a fine strait well-bred Gentleman, of a pleasing form, with a charming air in his face. The other, Mr. Longvil, who has a pleasing sweetness in his countenance, an agreeable straitness, and a grareful composure and strength in his Limbs. I am distracted in my choice on whom to fix my affection. Let me see, which shall I like best? Mr. Bruce is a fine person really, and so is Mr. Longvil: and so is Mr. Bruce I vow, and so is Mr. Longvil, I swear. In short, I like 'em both best, and these fluttering Sluts shall have none of 'em.

Prethee, Sister, let's change our Men, and then we shall be troubled with no love from 'em—

Agreed. But if we be, it is shifting of our torment, and that's some ease. But hold, we are undone: here's my Aunt.

Gentlemen, your Servant. So, Nieces, you are soon acquainted with young Gentlemen, I see, It will in modesty be­fit you to retire.

We heard Sir Nicholas was at home, and took the li­berty of a turn in the Garden.

Where by accident we found these Ladies, who have done us the honor to entertain some discourse with us—

They are always ready to shew their little or no breeding; you must pardon them they are raw Girls—

Thank Heav'n; we have not [...]ad the age and experience of your Ladi [...]hip.

We will leave your Reverend Ladiship, to shew your great wisdom and breeding.

How now, you pert Sluts——

Gentlemen, you are not to take notice what these idle Girls say concerning my age: for I protest, Gentlemen, I exceed not Twenty two, upon my Honor I do not.

That's well; I remember her a Woman Twenty years ago.

'Tis true.

'Tis [...]mpossible your Ladiship should be more.

You are in the very blossom of your age.

O Lord, S [...]rs! now, I swear, you do me too much honour. Yet had I not had some cares in the World, and the truth on't is, been ma [...]ri'd somewhat against my will, I might have look'd much better. But 'tis no matter for that, I'm dis­pos'd of—

This is to let us know she does not care for her Hus­band.

She means to trust one or both of us.

Yet I confess, Sir Nicholas is a fine solitary Philoso­phical person. But my nature more affects the vigorous gaity and jollity of Youth, than the fruitless speculations of Age.

Those fitter for your youth and blood. But may we not have the honor we were promised of seeing Sir Nicholas?

The truth on't is, he is within, but upon some pri­vate business: but nothing shall be reserved from such accompli­sh'd persons as you are. The truth on't is, he's learning to swim.

Is there any Water hereabouts, Madam?

He does not learn to swim in the Water, Sir.

Not in the Water, Madam! how then?

In his Laboratory, aspacious Room, where all his In­struments and fine Knacks are.

How is this possible?

Why he has a Swiming-Master comes to him.

A Swiming-Master! this is beyond all president—He is [...]he most curious Coxcomb breathing—

He has a Frog in a Bowl of Water, t [...]'d with a pack-thred by the loins; which pack-thred Sir Nichol [...]s holds in his teeth, lying upon his belly on a Table; and as the Frog strike [...], he strikes; and his swiming-Master stands by, to tell him when he does well or ill.

This is the rarest Fop that ever was heard of.

Few Virtuoso's can arrive to this pitch, Madam. This is the most curious invention I ever heard of.

Alas! he has many such He is a rare Mechanick Phi­losopher. The Colledge indeed refus'd him, they envy'd him.

Were it no [...] possible to have the favor of seeing this Experiment?

I cannot deny any thing to such persons. I'll introduce you.

In earnest this is very fine: I doubt not, Sir, but in a short space of time, you will arrive at that curiosity in this watery Science, that not a Frog breathing will exceed you. Though I confess it is the most curious of all amphibious Ani­mals (in the Art, shall I say, or rather nature of Swiming.)

Ah! well struck, Sir Nicholas; that was admira­ble, that was as well swom as any Man in England can. Observe the Frog, Draw up your Arms a little nearer, and then thrust 'em out strongly—Gather up your Legs a little more—So, very well——Incomparable—

Let's not interrupt them, Madam, yet but observe a little this great Curiosity.

'Tis a noble Invention.

'Tis a thing the Colledge never thought on.

Let me rest a little to respire. So it is wonderful, my noble Friend, to observe the agility of this pretty Animal, which, notwithstanding I impede its motion, by the detention of this Filum or Thred within my teeth, which makes a ligature about its loins, and though by many sudden stops I cause the Animal sometimes to sink or immerge, yet with indefatigable activity it rises and keeps almost its whole body upon the superfi­cies or surface of this humid Element—

True, Noble Sir; no [...] do I doubt but your Genius [Page 26] will make Art equal, if not excced Nature; nor will this or any other Frog upon the face of the Earth out-swim you—

Nay, I doubt not, Sir, in a very little time to be­come amphibious; a man, by Art, may appropriate any Ele­ment to himself. You know a great many Virtuoso's that can fly; but I am so much advanc'd in the Art of Flying, that I can alrea­dy out fly that pond'rous Animal call'd a Bustard; nor should any Grey-hound in England catch me in the calmest day, before I get upon wing: Nay, I doubt not, but in a little time to im­prove the Art so far, 'twill be as common to buy a pair of Wings to fly to the World in the Moon, as to buy a pair of Wax Boots to ride into Sussex with.

Nay doubtless, Sir, if you proceed in those swift gradations you have hitherto prosper'd in, there will be no dif­ficulty in the noble enterprise, which is devoutly to be effliga­ted by all ingenious persons since the intelligence with that Lu­nary World wou'd be of infinite advantage to us, in the improve­ment of our Politicks.

Right: for the Moon being Domina humidiorum, to wit, the Governess of moist Bodies, has, no doubt, the superi­or Government of all Islands; and its influence is the cause so many of us are Dilirious and Lunatick in this. But having suf­ficiently refrigerated my lungs by way of respiration, I will re­turn to my swiming—

Admirably well struck! rarely swum! he shall swim with any man in Europe.

Hold, Sir Nicholas; here are those Noble Gentle­men and Philosophers, whom I invited to kiss your hands; and I am not a little proud of the honor, of being the grateful and happy Instrument of the necessitude and familiar communi­cation which is like to intervene between such excellent Virtu­oso's.

We are, Sir Nicholas's, and your most humble Servants.

We shall thi [...]k our selves much honored with the knowledge of so celebrated a Virtuoso.

You are right welcome into my poor Laboratory; and if in ought I can serve you in the way of Science my nature is diffusive, and I shall be glad of communicating with such emi­nent Virtuoso's as I am let to know you are.

We pretend to nothing more than to be your humbl admirers.

All the ingenions World are proud of Sir Nicholas, for his Physico-mecha [...]ical Excellencie [...].

I confess I have some felicity that way; but were I as praecelling in Physico-Mechanical Investigations, as you in Tropical Rhetorical Flourishes, I wou'd yield to none.

How the As [...]es claw one another?

We are both your admirers. But of all quaint Inven­tions, none ever came near this of Swiming.

Truly I opine it to be a most compendious method, that in [...] fortnig [...]ts prosecution has advanced him to be the best Swimer [...] Europe. Nay, if it were possible to swim with any Fish of his Inches.

Have you ever tri'd in the Water, Sir?

No, Sir; but I swim most exquisitely on Land.

Do you intend to practise in the Water, Sir?

Never, Sir; I hate the Water, I never come upon the Water, Sir.

Then there will be no use of Swiming.

I content my se [...]f with the Speculative part of Swim­ing, I care not for the Practick. I seldom bring any thing to use, 'tis not my way. Knowledge is my ultimate end.

You have reason, Sir; Knowledge is like Virtue, its own reward.

To study for use is base and mercenary, below the serene and quiet temper of a sedate Philosopher,

You have hit it right, Sir. I never studi'd any thing for use but Physick, which I administer to poor people: you shall see my method.

Sir, I beseech you, what new curiosities have you found out in Physick?

Why I have found out the use of Respiration, or Brea­thing, which is a motion of the Thorax and the Lungs, whereby the Air is impell'd by the Nose▪ Mouth▪ and Windpipe into the Lungs, and thence expell'd farther to elaborate the Blood, b [...] refrigerating it, and separating its fuliginous steams.

What a secret the Rogue has found out?

I have found too, that an Animal may be preserv'd without respiration, when the wind-pipe's cut in two, by [...]olli­cular impulsion of Air; to wit, by blowing wind with a pair of bellows into the Lungs.

I have heard of a Creature preserv'd by blowing wind in the Breech, Sir.

That's frequent. Besides, tho' I confess, I did not in­vent it, I have performed admirable effects by tra [...]sfusion of Blood; to wit, by putting the Blood of one Animal into another.

Upon m [...] integrity he has advanc'd transfusion to the Achme of perfection, and has the Ascendent over all the Virtu [...]si in point of that Operation. I saw him do the most admi [...]able effects in the World upon two Animals; the one a Domestick Animal▪ commonly call'd a Mangy Spaniel; and a less Fame [...]lick Crea [...]ure, commonly call'd a Sound Bull-Dog. Be pleas'd, S [...]r to [...] it.

[...] I made, Sir, both the Animals to b [...] Emittent and Recipie [...] [...] [...]he same time, after I had made Ligatures as hard I [...], f [...]r [...]ear of s [...]rangling the Animals, to render the [...] [...], I open'd the [...]arotid Arteries, and Jugular [...] [...] at one time, and so caus'd them to change Blood [...] [...] ano [...]her.

Indeed that which ensu'd upon the Operation was miraculous; for the mangy Spaniel became sound, and the sound Bull-dog mangy.

Not only so, Gentlemen, but the Spaniel became a Bull-dog, and the Bull-dog a Spani [...]l.

Which considering the civil and ingenuous temper and education of the Spaniel, with the rough and untaught sa­vageness and ill-breeding of the Bull-dog, may not undeserved­ly challenge the name of a Wonder.

'Tis an Experiment you'll deserve a Statue for.

Sir, I must beg your pardon for my intrusion: but I have found out such a practise upon my Sister, as will nearly concern you to prevent it.

What does she mean now?

Against Miranda, say you?

This Foot-man has brought a Letter, and has been tempt­ing her fr [...]m that vile Man Sir Samuel Hearty. There 'tis.

'Tis no matter for her persecution. Be confident of me, you can endure any thing—

Ay, any thing, the most substantial be [...]ting under the Sun. I have had a pretty parcel o' kicks already about this business: but as long as I find love, I care not for [...]icking.

A pox o 'this Rascal, he'll undo us—

This is a Villain indeed, to tempt my Niece from that Knight; why he is a Spark, a Gallant, a Wit o'th' Town; the greatest debaucher of Youth, and corrupter of Ladies in England.

The Rogue has hit me to a Cows thumb, he's as cun­ning a Fellow as any within forty shillings of his head.

The Man indeed has spruce, polite, Mercurial, and pretty concise parts; but he's a little too volatile and flashy; he would make a fine person if he were but solid.

Good! solid! wou'd he so? That's as dull a Fel­low as a man wou [...]d wish to lay his leg over.

I confess he is my Foot-man, but shall be no longer so; let him be soundly pump'd and toss'd in a Blanket.

Truly it is an injury beyond all sufferance, and with your leave, I'll have him so exercis'd. Call in my people.

Hold, hold, Sir! what do you mean? Sir Samuel desired me to deliver this Note; and he's a person I am much be­holding to, that's all I know o'th' matter, only that he is a fine Gentleman, and a w [...]tty facetious perso [...] as any wears a head.

Here! where are my Servants!

Sirra! strip that Rascal's Coat over his ears.

Hold, hold, Longvil! what are you mad? I shall catch cold in the twinkling of a Bedstaff, man.

Do you hear, let him be taken, and first pumpt soundly, and then [...]oss'd in a blanket.

Impudent Rascal! away with him.

Pump him soundly impudent Fellow.

Ah, my pretty little dissembling Rogue.

See it done to purpose, and then turn him out a doors.

What a Devil shall I do? but she loves me still. Come—'tis well it's no worse—my intrigue goes on rare­ly—

Let's see the execu [...]ion.

Come on let's see how generously he suffers.

But now to return to my transfusion.

That was a rare Experiment of transfusing the blood of a Sheep into a Mad-man.

Short of many of mine. I assure you I have trans­fus'd into a humane Vein 64 ounces Haver du pois weight, from one Sheep. The emittent Sheep dy'd under the Operation, but the recipient Mad-man is still alive; he suffer'd some disor­der at first. The Sheep's blood being Heterogeneous, but in a short time it became Homogeneous with his own.

Ha! Gentlemen, was not this incomparable? but tyou shall hear more.

The Patient from being Mania [...]l, or raging mad, became wholly Ovine or Sheepish; he bleated perpetually, and chew'd the Cud: he had Wool growing on him in great quanti­ties, and a Northamptonshire Sheep's Tail did soon emerge or arise from his Anus or humane Fundament.

In sadness Nephew, I am asham'd of you, you will ne­ver leave Lying and Quacking with your Transfusions and Fools tricks. I believe if the blood of an Ass were transfused into a Virtuoso, you would not know the emittent Ass from the Re­cipient Philosopher, by the Mass.

O Uncle! you'll have your way; he's a merry Gen­tleman.

Pox! merry! prithee leave prating and lying; I am not merry, I am angry with such Coxcombs as you are.

Well, Sir, you are very pleasant, and will have your facetious pretty humors.

You are the Z [...]ny to this Mountebank.

Pray, Uncle, interrupt us not. [...]o convince you Gentlemen, of the truth of what I say, here is a Letter from the Patient, who calls himself the meanest of my Flock, and sent me some of his own Wool. I shall shortly have a Flock of 'em; I'll make all my Clothes of 'em, 'tis finer than Beaver. Here was one to thank me for the Cure by Sheeps blood just now—

O yes! he did not speak, but bleated his thanks to you. In sadness you deserve to be hang'd▪ You kill'd four or five that I know with your transfusion—

Sir, alass! those men suffer'd not under the Opera­tion, but they were Cacochymious, and had deprav'd Viscera, that is to say, their Bowels were gangren'd.

Pish! I do not know what you mean by your damn'd Cacochymious canting; but they dy'd in sadness. Prethee make [Page 31] hast with your canting and lying, and let's go to dinner, or you shall quack by your self——

A pleasant blunt old Fellow—

He's in the wro [...]g in abusing Transfusion: for excel­lent Experiments may be made in changing one Creature into the nature of another.

Nay, it may be improved to that height, to alter the flesh of Creatures that we eat, as much as grafting and inocula­ting does Fruits—

'Tis very true, I do it, I use it to that end.

Pox! let me see you invent any thing so useful as a Mousetrap, and I'll believe some of your Lies. Prethee! did not a fellow cheat thee with Eggs, which he pretended were laid with hairs in them, and you gave him ten shillings apiece for the Eggs; till I discover'd they were put in at a hole, made by a very fine Needle.

Well Mr. Snarl, you have the prettiest way of drolling. Gentlemen, pray let me recommend him to you, he's a fine facetious witty person indeed.

You recommend me! Prethee, damn'd Orator, hold thy tongue. In sadness you are a foolish flashy Fellow—

We shall be glad of the honour to know you.

I desire no acquaintance with any young Man of this Age, no [...] I.

Why so, Sir?

Why then are vitious illiterate foolish Fellows, good for nothing but to roar and make a noise in a Play-house. To be very brisk with pert Whores in Vizards, who, though never so ill-bred, are most commonly too hard for them at their own weapon, Repartee—And when Whores are not there, they play Monkey-tricks with one another, while all sober men laugh at them.

They are even with them, for they laugh at all sober men again.

No Man's happy but by comparison. 'Tis the great comfort of all the World to despise and laugh at one another.

But these are such unthinking Animals, and so weary of themselves, they can never be alone; always complaining of short life, yet never know what to do with the time they have.

This snarling Fellow's sometimes in the right.

Thei [...] top of [...]heir Educa [...]ion is to sma [...]er French: for in Fr [...]nce they have been to learn French V [...]ces to spend Eng­lish Estates with; with an insipid gaity, which is to be slight and bright, very pert and very dull.

S [...]r I beseech you to be civiller to my Friends.

I am transported with passio n against the young Fel­lows of the Age.

Old Fools always envy young Fools.

[...]hey are all forward and positive in things they un­derstand not; they laugh at any Gentleman that has Art or Science, and make it the property of a well bred Gentleman, to be good for nothing, but to make a Figure in the Drawing­room, set his Periwig in the Glass, smile, whisper, and make legs and foolish faces for an hour or two, without one word of sense in s [...]dness.

The snarling Rogue's very tart upon the Youngsters.

When the pleasures of Wine and Women, the jo [...]s of Youth leaves us, Envy and Malice the lusts of Age, succed 'em—

Besides, they are all such Whoring fellows, in sadness [...] am asham'd of 'em. The last Age was an Age of Modesty—

I believe there was the same Wenching then: onely they dissembled it. They added Hypocrasie to Fornication, and so made two Sins of what we make but one.

After all his virtue, this old Fellow keeps a Whore. I▪ll tell you m [...]re on't.

I hope you will pardon the rough n [...]ture of my Un­cle, who sp [...]res no body. Now if you please, Gentlemen, we'll retire. I am sorry I cannot perform the dissection of the Lobster, wh [...]ch I promis'd. My Fi [...]h-monger that serves me for that Ope­ration, has fail'd me: but I'll assure you it is the most curious of all Testaceous or Crustace [...]us Animals whasoever.

But we will read an Author, and sport about a little Gr [...]k and Latine bef [...]re Dinn [...]r. The one is a noble re­f [...]ction of the Mind, as the other is of the Body.

We wait on you.

After Dinner we will have a Lecture concerning the Natu [...]e of Insects, and will survey my Microscopes, [...], [...], [...], Pn [...]umatick Engin [...]s, St [...]ntrophonical Tub [...]s, and the like—

We [...]re infinitely oblig'd to you, Sir. But all this does not edifie with our Mistresses, Longvil.

We must find a way to get rid of [...]hese insipid Fools. I have a way to get rid of the Lady.

G [...]ntlemen, we most humbly attend your motions.

We wait on you.

DEar Madam! tender the life and welfare of a poor humble Lover.

What a fashionable Gentleman of this Ag [...], and a Lover! it is impos [...]ible! They are all Keepers, and [...] tawdry things from the Ex [...]hange or the Play- [...]ouse, and make the poor Creatures run mad with the ex [...]remity of the alt [...]rati­on; as a young Heir, being kept short, does at the death of his Father.

I was never one of those Madam: nothing but age and impotence can reduce me to that condition. I had [...] kill my own Game, than send to a Poulterers. Besides, I never eat Tame things, when wild of the same kind are in season. I hate your coopt cramb'd Lady; I love 'em as they go about, as I do your Barn-door Fowl.

'Tis more natural indeed.

But had I been ne'r so wicked, you have made such an absolute whining Convert of me, that forgetting all shame and reproach from the Wits and Debauchees of the Town, I can be a Martyr for Matrimony.

Lord! that you should not take warning! [...]ave not se­veral of your married Friends, like those upon the Ladder, bid­den all good people take warning by them.

For all that, neither Lovers nor Malefactors can take it; one will make experiment of Mariage, and th'other of Ha [...]g­ing at their own sad costs. Neither of the Executions will e er be left off.

They are both so terrible to Women, 'tis hard to know which to chuse.

If you Ladies were willing, we Men are apt to be ci­vil upon easier terms.

No; those terms are harder than the other.

You are so nimble, a Man knows not which way to catch you.

Once for all I assure you, I will never be catch'd any way by you.

Do not provoke Love thus, lest he should revenge his cause, and make you doat upon some nauseous Coxcomb, whom all the Town scorns.

Let Love do what it will, I neither dare nor will talk on't any longer.

You are afraid of talking of Love, as some are of rea­ding in a Coujuring-book, for fear it should raise the Devil.

What ever you can say, will as soon raise one as the other in me. But I must take leave of you and your Similies. My Uncle will want you.

Will you not in charity afford me one interview more this after-noon?

Provided I hear not one word of Love, and my Uncle and Aunt be secure; I shall be in the Walk on the East-side of the Garden an hour hence. But, by your leave, I shall meet another there—

A thousand thanks for the honour. Yonder come Bruce and Clarinda; I'll retire—

I have taken more pains to single you out, than ever Wood-man did for a Deer.

If the Wood-man were no better a Marks-man, the Deer would be safe for all his singling. Besides, I am not so tame to stand a shot yet, I thank you—

Lovers are quick Aimers, and can shoot flying.

Not, if they fly so fast as I shall from you.

Come, I see this way will not do: I'll try another with you. Ah, Madam! change your cruel intentions, or I shall be­come the most desolate Lover, that ever yet, with arms across, sigh'd to a murmuring Grove, or to a purling Stream complain'd. Savage! I'll wander up and down the Woods, and carve my [Page 35] passion on the Barks of T [...]ees, [...]nd vent my grief to winds, that as they fly shall sigh and pity me▪

How now! what foolish Fustian's this? you talk like an Heroick Poet.

Since the common down-right way of speaking sense wou [...]d not please you, I had a mind to try what the Roman­tick way of wining Love cou'd do.

No more of this, I had rather hear the tatling of Gos­sips at an Upsitting, or Christning, nay, a Phanatick Sermon, or, which is worse than all, a dull Rhiming Play, with nothing in't but lewd Hero's huffi [...]g against the Gods.

Why, I'll try any sort of Love to please you, Madam; I▪ll shew you that of a gay Coxcombe; with his full plumes, strutting and rustling about his Mistriss, like a Turky-cock, bait­ing her with brisk aiery motion, and fashionable nonsence, think­ing to carry her by dint of Periwig and Garniture, or by chan [...] ­ing some pretty foolish sonnet of Phillis or Coeli [...]; or at best, treating her with nothing but ends of Plays, or second-hand Jests, which he runs on tick with witty men for, and is never able to pay them again.

No, there are too many of these fine Sparks you talk of, who perhaps may be very clinquant, slight and bright, and make a very pretty show at first; but the Tincel-Gentleman do so tarnish in the wearing, there's no enduring them.

But I am of good metall, Madam, and so true, that I shall abide any Touch-stone, even that of Marriage.

But it's an ill-bargai [...], where I must buy my Metal first, and touch it afterwards.

You shall touch it first, Madam, and if you do not like it, I'll take it again and no harm done.

No: I'll take care there shall be no harme done▪ Pray divert this unseasonable Discourse of Love, for I will never hear on't more. Farewell, I see my Lady Gimcrack in the Garden.

Let me but beg to have one Treaty more with you this afternoon: if I convince you not of the error of your hard heart, I must submit and be miserable.

If you love to hear the same thing again, I will declare it to you an hour hence in the green Walk on the other side the Wilderness—Farewel—But, by your leave, you shall find another in my place—

Your Ladiship's humble Servant. I have been taking the fresh air in the Garden, Madam.

I am come with the same intention, and am happy in the company of a person, who is so much a Gentleman.

Your Ladiship does me too much honour.

By no means, Sir, your accomplishments command respect from all Ladies. I doubt not but you have been happy in many Ladies affections—

What will th [...]s come to?—

But Women will be frail, while there are such per­ [...]ons in the world, that's most certain.

Your Ladiship's in a merry humor, to rally a poor young Gentleman thus.

Far be it from me, I swear; your perfections are so prevalent, that were I not in honour engag'd unto Sir Nicholas (and Honour has the greatest Ascendent in the World upon me) I assure you I wou'd not [...]enture my self alone with such a per­son: But Honour's a great matter, a great thing, I'll vow and swear.

You Ladies will abuse your humble Servants; we are born to suffer.

Lord, Sir, that you shou'd take me to be in jest! I swear I am in earnest, and were I not sure of my Honor, that ne­ver fai [...]'d me in a doubtful occasion, I would not give you this opportunity of tempting my frailty; not but that my virtuous inclinations are equal with any Ladies: but there is a prodigi­ous Witch-craft in opportunity. But honor does much, yet op­po [...]tunity is a great thing, I swear a great thing.

Ay, Madam, if we use it when it offers it self.

How Sir! ne'r hope for't! ne'r think on't! I wou'd not for all the World I protest. Let not such [...]houghts of me en­ter into your head. My honour will protect me. I make use of an opportunity—I am none of those I assure you.

'Sdeath! how apprehensive she is? I shall forget the Speculative part of Love with Clarinda, and fall to the practick with her. But I shall ne'r hold out that long journey, without this or some other bait by the way.

Yet, as I was saying, opportunity's a bewitching thing▪ Le [...] all Ladies beware of opportunity, I say,: for alass, if we [Page 37] were not innocent and virtuous now▪ what use might we make of this opportunity now?

She's so damnably affected, and silly, 'twou'd pall any one's appetite but mine. Folly and affection are as nauseous as deformity.

Should we now retire into that cool Grotto for re­freshment, the censorious world might think it stra [...]ge; but ho­nour will preserve me. Honou [...]'s a rare thing, I swear, I defie temptatio [...].

You'll not give a man leave to trouble you with much. I have not observ'd that Grotto; shall I wait on you to survey it.

Ay Sir, with all my heart to survey that; but if you have any wicked intentions, I'll swear you'll move me prodigi­ously. I [...] your intentions be dishonorable, you'll provoke me strangely.

Try me, Madam.

Hold! hold! have a care what you do. I will not try if you be not sure of your Honor. I'll not ven [...]re, I pro­test.

What ever you are of mine, you are sure of your own.

Right, that will defend me. Now tempt what you will though we go in, nay, though we shut the door too: I fear nothing; it's all one to me as long as I have my Honour about me. Come.

Yonder comes Longvil, Madam.

For Heaven's sake remove from me, or he'll suspect my Honour.

So, this accident has p [...]eserv'd me honest. I am as constant a Lover as any man in England, when I have no oppo [...]u­nity to be otherwise—

Fa-la-la-la▪ O me Sir [...] swear▪ you frighted me▪ I protest my heart was at my mouth. Alass! I shall nor recover the disorder a good while.

What' [...] the matter, Mad [...]?

You brought a G [...]tlemen that' [...] [...] [...]o fresh into my mind, one [...] wa [...] the [...]st Object o [...] my [...] and Af­fections, no [...] [...] [...] se [...] you [...]. [...] I th [...]ught it had been his Ghost, upon my word.

I am happy in resembling any one you could love, Madam

I have long forgotten my passion for him; but the sight of you did stir in me a strange Jè ne scai quoi towards you; and but that I am another's now—otherwise—But I say too much.

I have been too much acquainted with her character to doubt her meaning. Madam, you honour me so much, I cannot acknowledge it enough by my words, my hear­ty actions shall speak my thanks.

Actions! Oh Heav'n! what actions? I hope you mean honourably. I swear you brought all the blood of my body in­to my face. Actions, said you! I hope you are a person of ho­nour, my Honour's dearer to me than the whole Word. I would not violate my Reputation for the whole Earth.

Let us retire, Madam. If I do not shew my self a Man of Honour, may your Ladiship renounce me.

Retire! Heav'n forbid! Are we not private enough? W [...]ll, you put me more and more in mind of my first Love, I swear you do.

By your leave, Miranda, I can hold no longer. Though I am as true as Steel, any handsome Woman will strike fire on me. Let us repose a while in the Grotto, Madam.

O Heav'n, Sir! do not tempt me. What, give my self an opportunity! Consider my Honour, Sir; I am an­other's▪

And shall be so still; Madam, whatsoever use I shall make of your Ladiship, I shall return you again, and ne'r alter the property. Dear Madam, retire.

O Lord, Sir! what do you mean? you fright me so, I protest my heart is at my mouth. I am no such person. Dear Sir, mistake me not, misconstrue not my freedome; I wou'd not for the World—Well, I swear you are to blame now, mever [...] you are—But 'tis your first fault, I can forgive you.

I am sorry I have offended. But let us retire into the Grotto, and I'll make as many acknowledgments as I can.

Well, Sir, since you are a little more civil, I am con­ [...] for discourse sake, for I love discourse mightily —

W [...]l, I [...] a [...] ▪ Dear Miranda, forgive me this once. Come, dear Madam.

I'll follow. But d'ye hear, Sir, if you be the least un­civil, upon my honour I'll cry out. Remember, Sir, I give you warning. Do not think on't, I swear and vow I will; do not, I say, do not.

No, no, I warrant y [...]u; I'll trust you for that. How fearful she is I should not think on't?

Sweet Mr. Longvil, Sir Nicholas Gi [...]crack desires your noble presence: [...]e being now ready to impart those se­crets about Insects, which I d [...]re be bold to say, no Virtuoso, Do­mestick or Foreign, has explor'd but himself.

I wait on you.

I humbly kiss your Ladiship's fair hands.

Shame on this unlucky Fellow: I have discover'd the cross love between my Nieces and these Gentlemen, and will make work wi [...]h it.

Madam, here's a Letter for your Ladiship; the Mes­senger would deliver it to none but me.

Ha! it is from my dear Hazard.

Madam, I am extremely impa [...]ient to see your Ladiship at [...] old place of assignation, as well for a great [...]eal of Love, as for a little Business.

Well, I will go, though it cost me money. I know that's his little business. I know not why we Ladies should not keep as well as Men sometimes. But I shall neglect [...]y impor­tant affair with these two fine sweet persons. But that's uncer­tain, this is su [...]e.

How happy am I in thy Love! here I can find re [...]eat, when tir'd with all the Rogues and Fools in Town.

Ay, Dearest! come to thine own Miss; she loves thee, Buddy, poor Buddy. Coachee, coachee.

O my poor Rogue. But when didst thou see thy Friend▪ Mrs. Flirt, my Nephew Gimcrack's Mistriss?

O shame on her! out upon her! O name her not.

Why, what's the matter, Bird?

O filthy Creature, I cannot abide her▪ she's [...] she's naught.

Why, what's the matter, Figg? what has she done to thee?

Done! I'll never forgive her while [...] ha'breath. Do not speak of her, she's a base Creature; name her not, I ha'done with her.

Has she affronted thee, poor Rogue? I'll have her maul'd. Filthy Creature.

Ay, birds-nyes, she's a Quean. But do not thee trouble thy self with her; 'tis no matter.

I will know what she has done to thee. In sadness, if you do not tell me, I won't love thee, Pigs-nie.

Well, I will, but won't you laugh at me then?

No, by the Mass, not I.

Nay, but thou wilt, Bird.

In sadness I won't.

Why would you think it? I wish I might ne'r stir out o'this place, if the lewd Carrion had not the impudence to tell me, that Sir Nicholas Gim [...]rack was a handsomer Man than thou art. No, I'll ne'r forgive her while I ha've breath.

Poor Rogue! thou art a dear Creature in sadness.

Impudent Flirts! but I swear our Sex grows so vicious and infamous, I am asham'd of 'em, they have no modesty in 'em.

In sadness it's a very wicked Age; men make no con­science o'their ways, by the Mass. In the last Age we were modest and virtuous, we spent our time in making visits, and playing at Cards with the Ladies, so civil so virtuous, and well­bred.

For my part, I blush at the impudent Creatures of the Town, that's the truth on't.

So do I, in sadness. To see Villains wrong their sweet Wives, and, while they keep them short, let little dowdy Strumpets spend their Estates for 'em, by the Mass my heart bleeds, to see so great a decay of Conjugal affection in the Nation.

Out upon 'em, filthy Wenches; I wonder they dare shew [...]heir harden'd faces. They are so bold, 'tis a burning shame they should be suffer'd I vow.

Nay, the young Coxcombs are worse; nothing but swearing, drinking, whoring, tearing, ranting, and roaring. [Page 42] In sadness I shou'd be weary of the world for the vices of it, but that thou comfort'st me sometimes, Buddy.

Prethee, dear Numps, talk no more of 'em; I spit at 'em; but I love n'own Buddy Mun. Predee kiss me.

Ah poor Budd, poor Rogue! we are civil now; what harm's in this?

None, none. Poor Dear, kiss again, Mun.

Ah poor thing. In sadness thou shalt have this Purse; nay, by the Mass thou shalt.

Na [...] p [...]sh! I cannot abide the money, not I▪ I love thee, thou art a civil, discreet, sober person of the last Age.

Ah poor little Rogue! in sadness I'ill bite thee by the lip, i'faith I will. Thou hast incenc'st me strangely, thou ha [...]t fir'd my blood, I can bear it no longer, i'faith I cannot. Where are the instruments of our pleasure? Nay, prethee do not frown, by the Mass thou shalt do't now.

I wonder that should please you so much, that pleases me so little?

I was so us'd to't at Westminster-School, I cou'd never leave it o [...]t since.

Well: look under the Carpet then if I must.

Very well, my dear Rogue. But dost hear, thou art too gentle. Do not spare thy pains. I love C [...]stigation migh­tily—So, here's good provision.

Ho there within! open the door. 'Sdeath I'll break it open. What Rascal have you got with you? I'll maul him.

O Heav'n! this Rascal will undo me. What shall I do? 'Tis my Brother.

In sadness I shall be ruin'd.

Run, run, if [...]ou love me, into the Wood- [...]ole quickly. I'll get rid of him. For Heaven's sake take the Birch along with you

Ah Hectoring Rascal! we had none o'this in the last Age. Rogues! Dogs! A man cannot be in private with a Sister, but he must be disturb'd by th'impertinent Brother, in sadness.

In! in! I'll out to him—

Sir Nicholas, Sir For [...]al▪ Bruce, Longvil:

I do assur [...] you, Gentlemen, no man upon the [...] [Page 42] of the earth is so well seen in the Nature of Ants, Flies, Hum­ble-Bees, Ear-wigs, Millepedes, Hogs-Lice, Maggots, Mites in a Cheese, Todpoles, Worms, Neufts, Spiders, and all the noble products of the Sun, by equivocal Generation.

Indeed, I ha' found more curious Phoenomina in these minute Animals, than in those of vas [...]er magnitude.

I take the Ant to be a most curious Animal.

More curious than all Oviperous or Egg-laying Crea­tures in the whole World. There are three sorts, Black, Dark­brown, and Fillamot.

Right, Sir.

The Black will pinch the Dark-brown with his for­ceps, till it kills it upon the place; the like will the Dark-brown do by the Fillamot—I have dissected their Eggs upon the ob­ject plate of a Microscope, and find that each has within it an included Ant, which has adhering to its Anus or Fundament, a small black speck, which becomes a Vermicle, like a Mite, which I have watched whole days and nights; and Sir Formal has watch'd 'em thirty hours together.

A very pretty employment.

And a long time we cou'd find no motion, but that of Flexion and Extension: but [...]t last it becomes an Ant, Gentle­men.

What does it concern a Man to know the nature of an Ant?

O it concerns a Virtuoso mightily: so it be Know­ledge, 'tis no matter of what.

Sir, I take 'em to be the most politick of all Insects.

You have hit it, Gentlemen▪ they have the best Government in the World: What do you opine it to be?

O! a Common-wealth most certainly.

Worthy Sir, I see you are a great Observer; it is a Republick resembling that of the States-General.

Undoubtedly! and the Dutch are just such industrious and busie Animals.

Right. But now I beseech you be pleas'd to commu­nicate some of your quainter Observations to these Philosophers, about those subtil and insidious Animals call'd Spiders.

I think I have found out more Phoenomena's or Ap­pearance [...] of Nature in Spiders, than any Man breathing: [Page 43] Wou'd you think it? there are in E [...]gland si [...] and thirty sevèral sorts of Spiders; there's your Hound, Grey-hound, Lurch [...]r, Spaniel Spider.

But, above all, your Tumbler-Spider is most admira­ble.

O Sir, I am no Stranger to't: it catches [...]lies as T [...]m­blers do Conies.

Good! how these Fools will meet a lie half-way.

Great Lyars are always civil in that point; as there is no lie too great for their t [...]lling, so there's no [...]e too great for their believing.

The Fabrick or Structure of this Insect, with its Tex­ture, is most admirable.

Nor is its Sagacity, or Address, less to be won­der'd at, as I have had the honour to observe under my noble Friend; as soon as it has spi'd its Prey, as suppose upon a Ta­ble, it will crawl underneath till it arrive to the An [...]ipodes of the Fl [...], which it discovers by sometimes peeping up; and if the capricious Fly happens not to remove it self by crural motio [...], or the vibration of its wings, it makes a fatal leap upon the heedless prey, of which, when it has satisfied its appetite, it car­ries the remainder to its Cell, or Hermitage.

It will teach its young ones to hunt, and discipline 'em severely when they commit faults; and when an old one misses its Préy, it will retire, and keep its Chamber for grief, shame and anguish, ten hours together.

Upon my integrity it is true, for I have several times, by Sir Nicholas's command watched the Animal, upon thi [...] or the like miscarriages.

But, Sir, there is not in the World a more docible Creature, I have kept several of 'em tame.

That's curious indeed▪ I never heard of a tame Spider before.

One above all the rest, I had call'd him Nick, and h [...] knew his name so well, he wou'd follow me all over the house▪ I fed him indeed with fair Flesh-flies. He was the best natur'd, best condition'd Spider, that ever I met with. You [...]ew Nick very well, [...]ir Formal, h [...] was of the Spanie [...] breed, Si [...]—

Knew him! I knew Nick intimately well▪

These Fools are beyond all that Art or Nature e'r produc'd.

These are the admirable Secrets they find out—

Have you observed that delicate Spider call'd Taran­tula?

Now you have hit me, now you come home to me; why I travell'd all over Italy, and had no other affair in the world, but to study the secrets of that harmonious Insect.

Did you not observe the Wisdom, Policies, and Cu­stoms of that ingenious people?

Oh by no means! 'Tis below a Virtuoso, to trouble himself with Men and Manners. I study Insects; a [...]d I have observ'd the Tarantula, does infinitely delight in Musick, which is the reason of its poison being drawn out by it. Ther's your Phaenomenon of Sympathy!

Does a Tarantula delight so in Musick?

Oh extravagantly. There are three sorts, Black, Grey and Red, that delight in three several sorts and modes of Musick.

That was a curious Inquisition; how did you make it?

Why I put them upon three s [...]veral Chips in water, then caused a Musician to play, first a grave Pa [...]in, or Almain, at which the black Tarantula onely mov'd; it danc'd to it with a kind of grave mo [...]ion, much like the Benchers at the Revels.

Sir, The Gentleman that's going for Lapland, Russi [...], and those parts, is come for your Letters and Queries which you are to send thither.

I'll wait on him. I keep a constant correspondence with all the Virtuoso's in the Nor [...]h and North-East parts. Ther [...] are rare Phaenomena's in those Countrys. I am beholding to Finland, Lapland, and Russia, for a great part of my Philosophy. I send my Queries thither. Come, Sir Formal, will you help [...]o dispatch him?

I am proud to serve you.

Be pleas'd to take a turn in the Garden. When we have dispatch'd, we will impart more of our Microscopical [...].

Your humble Servant—This is a happy deliverance.

I have remov'd the Lady by writing to Hazard, to send for her, and keep her an hour or two.

And I have sent my man to find out Sir Nicholas his Strumpet, as soon as he has found her, she'll send for him.

For all his Vertue and Philosophy. This grave Fool will be in the fashion too. Now if we can get rid of this wor­dy Fool Sir Formal, we have the Ladies to our selves. In the mean time, let's to our several and respective assignations.

What shall I say to this Bruce? Oh unjust Custom! that has made Women but passive in Love, as if Nature had intended us for Cyphers onely, to make up the number of the Creation.

Yonder's my Clarinda: Now Love inspire me, I am infi­nitely transported with this honour you do me.

If I have done you any honor, pray make your best on't.

Is it you, Madam? this honour was unexpected.

Why whom did you expect? O I see you are not so much transported as you thought you were.

The honor of your Ladiships company I did not expect.

Nor much care for, I see.

'Twere Blasphemy if I should say so. 'Twas your Sister I expected.

My Sister! so, I am not fit for your company it seems.

If I wou'd tell you how I prize the honour, I shou'd invade the interest of my Friend.

Your Friend! if you had no more interest in him, than I am resolv'd he shall ever have in me: he'd be the worst Friend you have.

He's a Man of Honour, and of Wealth: and if any man cou'd deser [...]e you, he might.

The World is not so barren, but I have found a fitter man: but, Sir, 'twas not my Sister; [...]twas my Lady Gimcrack you hop'd to meet here. You are a Man of Honor. The Grotto is a fine Scene of Love. The Lady not very unwilling, 'twas well you were interrupted, Sir.

'Sdeath! how came she to know that? but I must bear it out; I cannot ghess your meaning: but I see you love your Sister well, to be jealous of her.

No, I assure you, I have no reason to be jealous for her: for to my knowledge, she has irrecoverably disposed of her heart in another place.

What's that? What says she? She's certainly jealous for her self then. [...]here must be something in this.

In what confusion am I? [...]his can never end well▪ What! I see you are troubled that I have told you a Secret of my Sisters, and discover'd one of yours. Come, walk and consider on't.

I am surpris'd so, I know not what to do in this exi­gence—

You stare about like a Hare-finder: what's the matter?

Faith▪ Madam, I expected to have met your Sister here.

Say you so? the truth on't is, she desired me to take the trouble off her [...].

I am sorry, Madam, she thinks it so.

You see, Sir, I am content to suffer for her sake.

You have a mind to try me for your Sister, Madam.

No: I assure you, Sir, she's resolved never to make trial of you her self, nor by another.

What can the meaning of this be?

Come, Sir, I will be a little plainer with you; She has dispos'd of her heart to another, without power of revocation.

Why wou'd she not meet me▪ to tell me so her self?

She thought me fitter for't: besides, perhaps this has given her an opportunity to see one she likes better.

I see, Madam, she has not the same kindness for you, to send yo [...] to one she likes so ill.

You do not know [...], but she may have taken as great a trouble off my hands, and kept me from one I like as ill, as she does you.

There's nothing but Riddle in Woman, they deceive as much with the Vizards of their mind, as they do with those o [...] the [...]r faces—

I discover Sir▪ Formal. We must be private no longer.

So Bruce, you are a happy man, I fee.

You are a pleasant one, I see▪ you and I must come to a cleari [...]g of this business.

Ladies, we ha [...] [...] to impart to you, but shall be hindered by [...]his Coxcomb, Sir For [...]al

We must have some consultations too with you. Sister, we'll catch him in a Trap—

Here's a Trap-door of a Vault, where my Uncle keeps h [...]s bottles of Air, which he weighs, of which you [...]ll hear more anon. We'll snap him in that, and then we shall have the plac [...] to our selves.

Let me alone, I'll catch him.

Gentlemen and Ladies, some affairs have engag'd my noble Friend, Sir Nicholas to borrow himself of you a while; and he has commanded me [...]o pawn my person till he shall re­deem it with his own—

Very quaintly express'd. We were just desiring you [...] company.

And we were admiring this Talent of yours, your ex­cellent manner of speaking; and I've engag'd to give you a Subject to shew your parts upon to these Gentlemen.

What ever is within the Sphere of my activity, you must command. I must confess, I have some felicity in speaking.

Dear Sis [...]er, give him a subject; you shall hear what Oracles hang on his lips. 'Tis all one what subject he speaks upon, great or little.

That it is, Madam; we Orators speak alike upon all Subjects—My speeches are all so subtilly design'd, that whatever I speak in praise of any thing, with very little alte­ration, will serve in praise of the contrary.

Let it be upon seeing a Mouse inclosed in a Trap.

'Tis all one to me, I am ready to speak upon all occasions.

Stand there, Sir, while we place our selves on each side.

I kiss your hand, Madam. Now I am inspir'd with Eloquenc [...] Hem! hem! Being one day, most noble Audit [...]rs, musing in my Study upon the too fleeting condition of poor hu­mane kind, I observed, not far from the Scene of my Meditati­on, an excellent Machine, call'd a Mouse-trap (which my Man had plac'd there) which had included in it a solitary Mouse, which pensive Prisoner, in [...]ain bewayling its o [...]n [...] ▪ and the precipit [...]tion of it [...] [...]oo [...] [...] ▪ [...] [...] [Page 48] [...]or liber [...]y ag [...]inst the too stubborn opposition of solid Wood, and more obdurate Wyer: at last, the pretty Mal [...]factor having tir'd, alass, its too feeble limbs, till they became languid in fruit­less e [...]deavors for its excarceration. The pr [...]tty Felon, since it could not break Prison, and its offence being beyond the bene­fit of the Clergy, could hope for no [...]ail, at last sate still pen­sively lamenting the severi [...]y of its Fate, and the narrowness of its, alass! too withering durance: after I had contemplated a while upon the no little curio [...]ty of the Engine, and the sub­tilty of its Inventor; I began to reflect upon the i [...]ticement which so fatally betray'd the uncautious animal to its sudden ruine, and found it to be the too, alass! specious bait of Cheshire ­C [...]eese, which seems to be a great delicate to the pallat of this A­nimal, who in seeking to preserve its life, O misfortune, took the certain means to death; and searching for its livelihood, had sadly encounter'd its own destruction. Even so—

Now let the Trap go—

Even so, I say.

Even so, I say, I have catch'd the Orator—

Help! help! murder!

Let the florid Fool lie there.

I warrant him.

He uses as many Tropes and Flourishes about a Mouse­trap, as he would in praise of Alexander.

This is the subt'lest disguise to make love in that e'r was invented; this has serv'd me upon many intrigues. Well, she shall see, for all the sufferings of this day, to the Tun [...] of Kick­ing, Beating, Pumping, and Tossing in a Blanket, and all that▪ that nothing shall hinder me in my Love. Shall Sir Samuel be frighted from an Intrigue? No!

Whom have we he [...]e.

Ladies, I was commanded by my Lady Pleasant to wait on you with choice of good things, which she [...]old me, you wou'd buy.

What's the meaning of this?

Since she came from my Lady, we must see what she would sell.

I have choice of good Gloves, Amber, Orangery, Genoa, Romane, Frangipand, Neroly, Tuberose, Jessimine, and Marshal; all manner of Tires for the Head, Locks, Tours, [Page 49] Frowzes, and so forth; all manner of Washes, Almond-wa­ter, and Mercury-water for the Complexion; the best Peter and Spanish Paper that ever came over; the best Poma [...]ums of Europe, but one rare, one made of a Lamb's Caul and May dew—Also all manner of Confections of Mercury and Hog [...]bones, to preserve present, and to restore lost Beauty. If any out-does me in these businesses, or have better Goods than I, I am the Son of a Tinde [...]-box. O Devil! what did I say? I shall be­t [...]ay my self—

How's thi [...], the Son of a Tinder-box?

Pish! I mean the D [...]ughter of a Tinder-box.

This is the Rascal Sir Samuel in disguise.

In the first place try a pair of Gloves, Madam, don't you know me?

How shou'd I know you?

Le [...] me tell you, Sir Samuel's as true a Lover, as e' [...] wo [...]e a head.

What's the meaning of [...]his private discourse?

Pox on her envy; she's always for a Cup of Mis­chief. I'll put this Note into a Glove, and that will do my bu­siness. Slap-dash—as flat as a Flounder. I have no private business—Be pleas'd to try on this Glove, Madam. Do not you know me yet?—I am Sir Samuel.

What's [...]his? a Note within it.

Keep it to your self.

What Note's that? from Sir Samuel Hearty? Oh Heav'n! this is a Bawd.

A down-right Bawd, and Bawd to that Rascal.

'Sdeath! pull the Bawd in pieces.

Lay hold on the Bawd, we'll hav [...] her Carted. Sei [...]e her till Sir Nicholas comes in; we'll ha [...]e her sent to Bridewel, and soundly whipt there, and then Carted.

So! this is a fine merry way of proceeding. I'have made [...]imble wo [...]k on't. Let me go, I am a [...] honest Woma [...], and l [...]bour in my vocation. Let me go, or as I am an honest man I'll sue you about this busines.

How's this? a Man▪ nay then I'll try a good kicking, upon you.

Hold! hold! What do you mean to beat a Woman? will you make me miscarry? I am with child, and for ought I [...]now, you have kill▪d that within me,

You said, a [...] you were an honest man.

O Dunce that I am! That's a way I have of ex­pressing my self. Bu [...] I'll make you know I am a Woman.

It is my Fool Sir Samuel; prethee Clarinda, let's put him to Sir Formal, and secure him till my Uncle comes; it will make excellent sport.

Do you set him upon the Trap, it will do rarely.

One word with you. Come this way, Sir Sa [...]uel. I can­not tell you how much I am afflicted for your sufferings.

Sha! it's no ma [...]er. Come it's well it's no worse.

Now Clarinda—

O murder, murder! Who's here? the Devil?

So, now we have the Garden to our selves. Let's walk, [...]nd consult about our affairs—

I Can no longer contain my self. This Lady, joyn'd with darkness and opportunity, the Midwife of Vice, as we may so say, has so inflam'd me, that I must farther attempt [...]er chastity: I am confident she must be handsome, [...]nd no mean person, by her silken Garments. M [...]dam, as I was saying, since we are unwittingly inclos'd in dark [...]ess, which yet cannot be so, since enlighten'd by the Rays of your Beauty.

For all your Oratory about this business, I cannot see my hand, it is so dark.

Ah, Madam! the bright enlightner of the day, by which all Creatures see, is yet it self depriv'd of vision.

[...]ox o'this damn'd Rhetorick! what will become of me! I must either discover my self, which I wou'd [...]ot for the world, or be sent to Bridewel, and be whipt with a Certio­rari; and yet me-thinks I h [...]ve no need on' [...], for I have been very plentifully kickt and beaten about this business to day al­ready—

L [...]t me be [...]eveng'd on this fair▪ Enemy, the pret­tiest, [...], a [...]d [...]ving hand I ever had the honour [...]o im­print [Page 51] my kisses on; she has inflam'd me mightily: I'll try her this way. Do me the honour to accept of this Purse, and the contents thereof.

I'll take the Rogues P [...]rse, what e'r come on't.

Sweet Lady, let's make our condition as happy as in us lies.

Nay, good Sir! O Lord, Sir, what d [...]'e mean? fie, Sir.

Let me approach the honour of your lip, far swee­ter than the [...]hoenix Nest, and all the spicy Treasures of Arabia.

'Tis your goodness, Sir; but pray forbear—

Nay strive not, upon my sincerity I will.

Nay, good Sir, be not uncivil, I am no such per­son. Nay pish! I never saw the like; you are the strange [...]t man. Well, take it then. I vow you make me blush If I were not in apparent danger of being whipt damnably, a [...] mis [...]ing my masquerade, I cou'd be merry with [...]his Fool.

The sweets of Hybla dwell upon thy lips! Not all the fragrant bosome of the Spring affords such ravishing per­fumes.

O Lord, Sir! you are pleas'd to complement! Ah, lying Rogue, my brea [...]h smells of Tobacco.

Our time may be but short, pardon the unbecom­ing roughness which my passion prompts me to. Come, my dear Cloris.

Lord, what a pretty name is that! I was ne'r call'd Cloris before.

Come, my dear Nimph, let us be more familiar: the solitary darkness of the place invites us to Love's silent plea­sures. Now, dearest Cloris, let us tast those sweets—

Nay pish! fie! Lord! what do you mean? what wou'd you be at? Keep off. I protest I'll call out. Nay pish! never stir I will.

Thou hast provok'd my gentle spirit so, it is become furious, and it is decreed I must enjoy thy lovely body—

Out upon you! my body, I de [...]e you▪ I am an ho­nest woman. I sco [...]n your words. I will call-out for some b [...] ­dy to pro [...]ect my honour.

Your Honnor [...] suffer; none can see us▪ a [...]d: who will declare it?

Out upon you! get you gone, you Swine. I will not s [...]ffer in my honor, I am virtuous. Help! help! a Rape! a Rape! help! help.

Be not obstreperous, none can hear you. You have provok'd me contrary to my gentle temper, even to a Rape, Come, I will, I must, i'faith I must.

'Sdeath! the Rogue begins to pry into the diffe­rence of Sexes, and will discover mine—I must try my strength with him. Out lustful Tarquin! you libidinous Goat, have at you.

Help! help! murder! murder!

Be not obstreperous, none can hear you.

Upon my verity I think this be an Amazon! Well, I can bear this; but—

Do you again attempt my Honour? I'll maul you, you las [...]vious Villain.

Hold! hold! I beseech you; I humbly rest con­tented, I acquiesce.

Get you from me, lustful Swine—Be gone—

I go, Madam: But I know not whether this Vault doth terminate here, or whether it doth issue farther.

HOw long shall I languish in expectation of your noble favour, for the enjoyment of whic h, my desires are as great, as my deserts are little?

Truly, Sir Formal, I am so sensible of your service, and so troubled with my confinement under my Uncle, that at length I have determin'd by you, to free my self from him.

Hold, Madam, I am too suddenly blest, I am all Rap­ture, all Extasie, my Soul, methinks, is fled from its corporeal clog, and I am all unbodi'd, Divinest Lady. Let me kneel and adore that hand, that snowy hand, to which the Snow it self is tann'd and Sun-burnt.

Not too mnch of this: but in short, conduct my Sisters and me out of these doors to the Masquerade; for we canno' get out without your authority with the Porter, and after you have return'd to my Uncle sometime; procure the habit of Scaramon­cha, that I may know you, and come to us, and you shall absolute­ly dispose of me.

Madam, I'll flie; nay, out-fly Sir Ni [...]holas himself, to do [...]ou service, or any Vertuoso in England▪ But how shall I know you? you'll be disguis'd.

[...] ll find you out; besides, you know this Ri [...]g and Bra­celet. We must have our Maids with us, for we ll no [...] return. Let's find my sister, and about it instantly.

I am all obedience. I should not envy now an Uni­versal Mona [...]ch—I hear my Ladies vo [...]ce—

Mr. Bruce is coming to wait on you.

Sir, your Servant. Now open the Bottles, and l [...]t the Air flie, Gentlemen, be ready to snuff it up. O this Bur [...] ­Air is delicate, 'tis delicious; O very refreshing.

O admirable—who would go to Bury to take it?

Not I, 'tis much the better here; it takes so much the fresher for being botled, as other Liquors do. For let me tell you, Gent [...]emen, Air is but a thinner sort of Liquor, and drinks much the better for being botled.

Most certainly the world is very foolish, not to snuff up botled Air, as they drink botled Drink.

The foolish World is never to be mended. For all this, your Glass-Coach will to Hide-park for Air. The Suburb-fools trudge to Lambs-Conduit or Totnam; [...]our sprucer sort of Citi­zens gallop to Epsom; your Mechanick gross Fellows, shewing much conjugal affection, strut before their Wives, each with a Child in his Arms, to Islington, or Hogsdon.

Ay poor d [...]ll Fools!

But to what end do you weigh this Air, Sir?

To what end shou'd I? to know what it weighs. O knowledge is a fine thing; why I can tell to a Grain what a gal­lon of any Air in England weighs.

Is that all the use you make of these Pneumatick En­gines?

No, I eclipse the light of rotten Wood, stinking Whitings and Thornback, and putrid Flesh when it becomes lu­cid.

Will stinking Flesh give light like rotten Wood?

O yes; there was a lucid Surloin of Beef in the Strand, foolish people thought it burnt, when it onely became lucid and chrystalline by the coagulation of the aqueous juice of the Beef, by the corruption that invaded it. 'Tis frequent. I my self have read a Geneva Bible by a Leg of Pork.

How, a Gen [...]va Bible by a Leg of Pork?

O Ay, 'tis the finest Light in the World: but for all that, I could eclipse the Leg of Pork in my Receiver, by pumping out the Air; but immediately upon the appulse of the Air let in again, it becomes lucid as before.

Is it so curious a Light?

O admirable! I am now studying of Glow-worms, a [Page 70] fine Study; it is a curious Animal: I think I shall preserve 'em light all the year, and then I'll never use any other light in my Study but Glow-worms and Concave-glasses.

What do you with the Speaking-Trumpet?

O that Stentrophonical Tube, though not invented by me, yet is improv'd beyond all mens expectation [...].

They can hear distinctly a League at Sea by them al­rea [...]y.

Pi [...]! [...]hat's noth [...]ng; I have made one, you may hear e [...]ght mile about, and I shall improve it very much more: for [...] no stop in Art. But of all La [...]guages, none is heard so far as Greek; your Ioni [...]k Dialect of O [...]o does so roul in the found. I make Sir Formal speak Gr [...]ek of [...]en in it.

This Sir Formal [...]as a great many pretty Employments under him.

I doubt not but in three moneths to improve it so, that from the chief Mountain, H [...]ll, or Eminence in a County, a man may be heard round the County.

This will be above all wonder.

I have thought of this to do the King service; for when I have perfected it, there needs but one Par [...]on to Preach to a whole County; the King may then take all the Church­Lands into his own hands, and serve all England with his C [...]ap­lains in Ordinary.

This is a most admirable project. But what will be­come of the rest of the Parsons?

It is no matter, let 'em learn to make Wollen Cloth, and advance the Manufacture of the Nation; or learn to make Nets, and improve the Fishing-Trade; it is a fine sedentary life for those idle Fel [...]ows in black.

These illiterate Virtuoso's hate all that have relation to Learning.

You cannot blame 'em. But there being no stop in Art, you may advance this Trumpe [...] so far, [...]ou may make 'em talk from one Nation to another.

So I may in time.

By this Princes m [...]y converse, treat, congratu [...]ate, and co [...]dole, without the great charge and trouble of Ambassa­dors.

I hope to eff [...]ct it▪ But I wonder Sir Form [...]l is not [Page 71] return'd; I sent hi [...] to fix my Tellescopes for surveying the Moon.

Do you believe the Moon is an Ear [...]h, as you told us?

Believe it! I know it; I shall shortly publish a Book of Geography for it. Why, 'tis as big as our Earth; I can see all the Mountainous parts▪ and Vallies and Seas, and Lakes in it; nay, the larger sort of Animals, as Elephants and Camels; but publick Buildings and Ships very easil [...]. I [...]ave seen several Battels fought there. They have great Guns, and have the use of [...]. At Land they fight with Elephants and Castles. I h [...]ve seen 'em—

No Phan [...]tick that has lost his Wits in Revelation, is so mad as this Fool.

You are mistaken, this is but a faint Copy to some O­riginals among the Tribe.

Th [...]re's now a great Monarch, who has Armies in se­veral Countreys in the Moon, which we find out, because th [...] Colours which we see are a [...]l alike. There are a great many S [...]ates, which we take to be Confederates against him. He is a very ambitious Prince▪ and aims at Universal Monarchy; but the rest of the Moon will be too hard for him.

I have fix'd the Tubes in the Garden; and, if we be not deceived, the great Monarch is making an Attaque upon a Town, and they are in very hard Service.

'Tis probable—W [...]'ll haste to see it. But [...]irst do me the favour to speak two or three Greek Verses in this Trumpet.

With all my heart.

Sir, Sir! stand upon your Guard; the House is beset by a great Rabble of People, who threaten to pull yo [...] out of it, and tear you in pieces.

O Heav'n! what is the matter?

Sir, they are Ribbon-weavers; who have been inform­ed, that you are he that invented the Engine-Loom, which has provok'd 'em to rise up in Arms, and they are resolv'd to be re­veng'd for't: L [...]sten, Sir, you may hear 'em.

O what will become of me! Gentlemen, Gentlemen, [Page 72] for Heav'ns sake do something for me; I protest and vow they wrong me, I never invented any thing of use in my life, as gad shall mend me not I.

We shall be beaten for being in such damn'd company, and faith we shall deserve it.

Mercy on me! how loud they are!

O Gentlemen, What is to be done?

Get your Guns and Pistols charg'd. The Rabble, like wild Beasts, are frighted at Fire-arms.

Go, get 'em charg'd quickly.

Now is the time for me to shew my parts. I have another Weapon. Let me alone with them.

What Weapon, Sir Formal?

Eloquence: I warrant ye. Let me alone. I'll go out among 'em.

O 'twill never do; they are very outrageous Rogues. What will become of us?

You know not the charmes of Oratory.

'Twas my fortune to be near the Temple▪ stairs, when the Water­men, who had drunk too deep of a Liquor, somewhat stronger than that which is the Scene of their Vocation, were stirr'd up into so popular a heat and fervour, that its fury threatned the adjacent Society—The Water-men were themselves (as I may so say) blown into a Tempest, when strait I ventur'd in a­mong the intemperate Crowd, and by the force of Rhetorick, dispell'd the barbarity of their over-boyling Ale, and too much fermented Choller, and gently recompos'd their minds into a se­date and quiet temper: and I doubt not but to have the same effect upon these.

Quickly then, dispatch. Tell 'em I am innocent, I never invented any thing in my life. Go-go, quickly.