The woman-captain a comedy acted by His Royal Highnesses servants / written by Tho. Shadwell.

The woman-captain a comedy acted by His Royal Highnesses servants / written by Tho. Shadwell.

Table of contents

Title page

TO HENRY Lord OGLE, SON to his GRACE HENRY Duke of NEWCASTLE, &c.

Prologue.

Drammatis Personae.

THE Woman-Captain.

ACT. I.

ACT. II.

ACT. III.

ACT. IV.

ACT. V.

Epilogue.

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE Woman-Captain:

A COMEDY ACTED by His Royal Highnesses SERVANTS.

Written by THO. SHADWELL.

LONDON, Printed for Samuel Carr, at the King's-Head in St. Paul's Church-yard, 1680.

TO HENRY Lord OGLE, SON to his GRACE HENRY Duke of NEWCASTLE, &c.

[Page]

[Page]

THE great Obligations I received from my most Noble Patron, your illustrious Grandfather, and the favours conferred upon me by your Excellent Father (amongst which, I can think none greater than his recommending me to your Lordships Kindness and Protection) have engaged me to make this acknowledgment of my Duty to your Lordship; and to beg that you will own me, and defend this Comedy. I hope I shall, hereafter, be able to present you with something more worthy your Acceptance; but let this suffice to give you a title to me, and all my endeavors, which, as often as I can, shall be employ'd to serve you.

Had you not been obliged by the commands of your Father to favour and protect me; yet, from you I should have hop'd to have found Patronage; for the great Love which you have for Arts and Sciences, which would have made you cherish my endeavors towards them: By this inclination you give us early proofs of your inheriting the Vertues of your Ancestors, as you are like to do their Fortunes; which with the great accession by your Match with the Noble and Renowned Family of the Piercies, will make your Lordship the greatest Subject of England. And, by your early Vertues, you give all, that know you, hopes that you will be able to maintain that Character, by all the qualities that become a great Man: And, from the two Noble Stocks of Cavendish and Piercy, Posteri [...]y is like [Page] to see a race of true▪, and not Romantick Heroes, who may serve their Prince virtuously, and that way oblige their Countrey as we doubt not but your Lordship will.

My Lord, it has been the custom of Dedicators of late to make the Praises they give to their Patrons so▪ extravagant, that they become Abuses, and therefore I am loath to say what I think: only one virtue of your Lordships I am too much pleas'd with not to mention; which is, that in this Age, when Learning is grown contemptible to those who ought most to advance it, and Greek and Latin Sence is despised, and French and English Nonsence applauded, when the ancient Nobility and Gentry of England, who not long since were famous for their Learning, have now sent into the World a certain kind of spurious brood of illiterate and degenerous Youth, your Lordship dares love Books, and labour to have Learning. And may your Lordship go on in this virtuous race you have begun, that so you may be a Protection to your Servants, a Consolation to your Friends, and an Honour to your Countrey; which is the hearty Wish of

My Lord,

Your Lordships most Obedient humble Servant Tho. Shadwell.

Prologue.

[Page]

Spoken by Anthony Lee.

LOrd! how the Poets in these times will pine,

For solid Dulness they must all design,

When Wit won't sell, and they shall lose French Wine.

And what can Players hope for in these days,

When e'r the Idle Youth forsake our Plays.

The empty Head, that never thought before

But on New fashions, or a fresh new Whore:

Who, without us, no Afternoon could spend,

Nor shew Himself, nor meet a secret Friend,

Whom mounting from the Pit we use to see

(For dangerous Intrigues) to'th' Gallery.

Where stead of Maidenheads 'tis oft his hap

By bold advent'ring to at [...]hieve a Clap,

Or down he comes, and lolls i'th Orange-wenches lap.

For News he now walks gravely up and down,

And every Fop's a Politician grown,

Instead of—

Pox here's no Company, let's to White-hall,

Or to the Park, or where is there a Ball?

What News! ha'ye been at Westminster to day?

How move the French? what do the great Ones say?

Things go not well, we wish we know not what;

But there are some can tell, we're sure of that:

With Politick shrug, and notable wise Look,

They censure Councels, who ne'r read a Book.

The Citt, who with his Wife and hopeful Son

Would come t' a merry Play, now all does shun,

And on the Guard learns to let off a Gun.

Others their Shops and precious Wares neglect,

With their wise Heads the Nation to protect:

Ev'n Bulks all day of Tenants are bereft;

For News stitching, and singing Psalms are left.

Each Coffee-house is fill d with subtle folk,

Who wisely talk, and politickly smoke.

To them whose Right it is, leave Government▪

And come to us, we'll give you all content:

[Page]Full Theatres, [...] overflowing Nil [...],

Shew Peace and Plenty in this happy Is [...]e.

The Nation's weather-glass a Play-house is,

And when we thrive, you never do amiss.

Fear not that we'll offend you with much wit,

This day we promise you shall quiet sit,

And have a Play for men of business fit:

And though you cruelly should Damn that Play,

I'll hang, if I don't make you laugh to day.

Drammatis Personae.

Sir Humphrey Scattergood, A Prodigal, Extravagant, and Luxurious Knight.

Bellamy, His two Friends.

Wildman, His two Friends.

Gripe. A miserable Wretch, that denies himself all Necessaries, very Jealous of his Wife.

Richard, his Man.

Sir Christopher Swash, A foolish Debauched hot-headed Fellow, always Drinking and Scowring, desirous to be thought a mad Fellow.

Heildebrand, Two Bullies, followers of Sir Christopher.

Blunderbus, Two Bullies, followers of Sir Christopher.

Sir Nich. Peakgoose, A sneaking Cully, nosed by a Whore.

Steward to Sir Humphrey.

Mrs. Gripe, Gripe's Wife, the Woman-Captain.

Serjeant.

Phillis, Sir Humphrey's Whore.

Cloris, Sir Christopher's Whore.

Celia, Sir Nicholas's Whore.

Bawd, Fool, High-Constable, Constable, Watch, Servants, MarketWomen, Apprentices, Parson, Soldiers, &c.

SCENE LONDON.

THE Woman-Captain.

[Page]

ACT. I.

Enter Sir Humphrey Scattergood dressing, Steward and Fool, with a number of old Servants.

1 Serv.

GOod your Worship! Turn us not away. I liv'd with my old Master Thirty years and upwards.

2 Serv.

And I fifty.

Sir Hump.

Yes! he lov'd an old-fashion'd block-headed greasy Servingman, whose Cloaths were died with Drippings of March Beer, and whose Beards stunk of Beef and Brewis, and his Breath like the fume of an Alms-Tub.

3 Serv.

We are all old, and have liv'd a long time here.

Sir Humph.

Ye have the more reason to go away now, you are pursy, lazy, clumsy Rogues; The time my Father's will requir'd you to be here is out. This is my happy Day of four and twenty, till which long time my Father's Will kept me from my Estate. I now discard ye all; now I'll be Master, I have provided a set of French▪ fellows to serve me; they are fit for Service.

Stew.

They are for Slavery, They are born and bred to it: But it was never good time since English Fools were serv'd by French Rogues.

Sir Humph.

Hey! Dubois! give 'em 40 s. a piece to drink, and send 'em packing.

Servants.

Good my Lord, We beseech your Lordship.—

Dubois.

Wait without!

[Ex. all, but Steward and Fool. Sir Hum & Valet de Chambre.

[Page]Sir Humph.

How now, why stays that Fool?

[...]ool▪

Because that Fool has more wit than to go away.

Sir Humph.

Sirrah! begon! I will not keep you.—

Fool.

Some body I see has us'd wicked Court Policy to supplant me in my employment.

Sir Humph.

I [...]ll keep no Fool, tis out of fashion for great Men to keep Fools.

Fool.

B [...]cause now adays they are their own Fools, and so save Charges: But for all that they delight in Fools out of Livery. When do you see any of em favour a Wit?

Sir Humph.

I [...]ll have none, 'tis exploded ev'n upon the Stage.

Fool.

But for all that Shakespear's Fools had more Wit than any of the Wits and Criticks now adays: Well, if the History of Fools were written, the whole Kingdom would not contain the Library; yet a vast number of [...]ools have been in Print, and written their own Histories.

Sir Humph.

You are a Satyrical Fool, and will give offence.

Fool.

Indeed this Age is not able to bear Satyr; and yet 'tis a very laughing jeeri [...]g age: all Fools laugh at one another, and scarce any one i [...] such a Fool, but he has a sub-Fool that he can laugh at—

Sir Humph.

Begon Sirrah! I'll have no fooling.

Fool.

Good Sir Humphrey, I will be a fashionable Fool, and learn [...]o lisp, speak French, and be very much aff [...]cted. I will be a well [...]red Fool, a Flatterer, or a Pimp, if you please, you may turn away a K [...]ve or a Chap [...]in for me.

Sir Humph.

Who waits there! take away the Fool!

[They thrust.

Well, Mr. Steward, upon condition you will leave off your miserable [...] and follow my Instructions, I receive you agen▪

Stew.

Since it must be▪ I'll endeavour to obey you in all.

Sir Humph.

Put some Pulv [...]lio into my Peruke! give me some Tuberose. You old Fool reach some Orange [...]Flower water for my Handkerchief, how do you like this!

Stew.

I dare not tell you▪

[...].

I'll give you leave▪

Stew.

Methinks! it is unmanly to keep such a stir about ones Body, I'd rather be embalm'd, like an Aegyptian body, once for all, and make no more trouble of it.

Sir Humph.

Thou dost not consider what a stinking Animal man is, exceeding all Beasts in stinking, and wouldst thou not have one mollifie these Natural imperfections—

Stew.

I would have you cleanly, and serve God as my old Mr. did; sure your Worship does not consider—

[Page]Sir Humph.

Yes fool—I do nothing but consider how I m [...]y please every sense, I have. They were not given me in vain. No—all my study shall be bent to find variety of Delights, and when my own too barren fancy stops, I'll have a Council wittier than Nero's, to invent new Pleasures.

Enter Bellamy and Wildman.

Bell.

Good morrow to my Lord of Land and Timber! long may'st thou live and flourish in thy pleasures. The happy day is now arriv'd that makes thee Master of thy Acres, and thy self.

Wildm.

A Thousand Joys fall on you. The Slavery you did endur [...] under your wretched Father, will make you relish the Liberty you now arrive at.

Sir Humph.

And I will use it to the full! nor Land nor Sea shall bound my pleasures—what e [...]r the Globe affords I'll have to satisf [...]e my Luxury.

Bell.

Virtuously resolved.

Wildm.

Joy of my heart: go on.

Sir Humph.

I Married one young fond fool, and broke her heart already; But now I keep a Whore, or Whores.

Stew.

Yes, all the Parish from fifteen to five and thirty.

Bell.

Virtuous still.

Stew.

Excellent Councellors for the speedy confounding of an Estate.

Sir Humph.

You that were my Father's good old Steward, and are my formal Coxcomb: I have taken a new course, and so must you: I'll not be serv'd so nastily as in my days of Nonage, or as my Father was; as if his Meat had been dress'd at Pye-Corner, by greasy S [...]ullions there. His boyl'd meat, a little Mutton with a sprig of Rosemary, and a vast deal of lean Oatmeal Pottage.

Wildm.

And Mutton roasted as if it were prescrib'd for the Pox, and of huge Leicestershire pease-fed Sheep, as rank as old He-Goat [...], and the Poultry died all of Hectick Feavers.

Bell.

And Sallets wither'd, the fruit Crab apples, Sweetings and Horse Plumbs; and for Confections, a few Carraways in a small Sawcer, as if his Worship's House had been a Lowsie Inn.

Sir Humph.

Then three or four monstrous Olives, with a spoonsul or two of damnable sharp Capers, and Suffolk Cheese.

Stew.

These things my good old Master was pleas'd with, or he had not so increas'd his Wealth.

[Page]Sir Humph.

He did well: and I will revel now with what he le [...]t. Choak not me with your Providence with a Pox to you—

Bell.

Wou'd you feed my Lord like a Country Justice of 300 l. a year, that has no gusto?—

Wildm.

Or like a Lawyer in Ram-Alley, or Attorneys joyning their 6 d. a piece at a greasy Cooks.

Bell.

That for their Suppers score their penyworth of Tallow-cheese at a Chandlers, with every one his Jug and Pipe of Mundungus.—

Stew.

Be pleas'd to instruct me, and I shall obey.

Sir Humph.

My chief Cook has a Book drawn up by these Gentlemen, and my self: Read and be learned.—There you shall find what is in season still—the youngest Meat always most nourishing.—The new faln Lamb. The tender Kid, and young fat Pigs. Veals fed with Milk, Whitebread, and new-laid Eggs, with young fat Beefs, and smallest Forrest Mutton, fat Bucks for Summer, Barren Does for Winter.

Wildm.

Fawns out of their Dams Bellies ript, Gelt Goats, Bruis'd Venison, Su [...]king Rabbits, Leverets, Dousets, White Haws, Velvet Head and Ears, Shoulders of Venison in the Kell with blood.

Bell.

Turkeys, Pea [...]Hens, Pullets, Capons, Ducks, with Geese so cramb'd as to be drown'd in fát; squab Pidgeons, Chickens in the Grease, fat Swans, and Barn-dore Hens—with cluster'd Eggs, that are provocative.—

Sir Humph.

The young plump Partridge, with the tender Powt; The Pheasant and the Quail, the Rail and Plover, roasted with the blood in 'em.

Wildm.

The mounting Lark, the Messenger of Day, the long bill'd Cock, that Winter brings in Mists-with Snipe, Duck, Teal, the Curlew and the Wild [...]goose, the Brant-goose, Solon-goose and Puffi [...].

Bell.

Young Rooks, and new hatch't Martins, the Black-bird, Felfare, Thru [...]h and Wheat-Ear, which far excels the Roman Beca fica.

Sir Humph.

Lincolnshire Fowl that's fatted with sweet Curds; as Pewits, Dottrils, Gulls, Knats, Ruffs and Reeves. All these I have had, and you must now provide.

Stew.

All this shall be done, and your Worship undone.—

Sir Humph.

And then for Fish what the vast Seas afford, Ponds, Immense Lakes and Rivers too! Brett, Mullet, Turbet, Smelt, Plaice, Seate, Cod-whiting, and the old Organ Ling with gold Flakes, with [...]eightning Sturgeon to stir up my blood▪ provoking Oisters, and the lusty Lobster: Crabs, [...]hrimps, Crafish Pottage, Muscles and Cookles, and dissolved Pearl and Amber in my sawce▪

[Page]Wildm.

The Luscio, Eel, the Trout, Char Tench, Per [...]h, calverd Salmon▪ And from the Ponds, over grown Pikes, Carps, Breams, Torecells. The German Fish as fat as Bucks in August.

Sir Humph.

And when I would cocker up my self, Rams-Cods, Lambstones, Bucks, Dowsets, Sparrows, Brains, the spawn of Fish, flakes of piled butter'd Eggs with Ambergreece; and when my taste grows Wanton, I will feed on Mushroons, and on Frogs, and have a race of large Italian Snails, young Tortoises drest costly in their shells, and Squirrels flesh, which is dissolved Nuts, and the Indian BirdsNest mollifi'd in Broath.

Wildm.

Then Virmicelti, Potato and Tartonphily, and slatulent Roots to stir up and to enable Appetite.

Stew.

I should have taken these hard Words for conjuring, bu [...] why must your Worship have French Cooks. Methinks my Masters old English Cookmaid, with good store of Parsley and Butter, did very well.

Sir Humph.

Away you Coxcomb: Let it be your care to keep my Cellar always full as it is now.

Stew.

I am acquainted with my old Master's Merchant, h [...] us'd to let him have very good Langoon and Burdeaux.

Sir Humph.

Porters and Carriers shall drink that; I'll have Vin d' aye, high Country Wine, Frontiniac; all the delicious Wines of Italy and Spain; the richer Wines of Greece and Sicily.

Bell.

And Celery, Champaign and Burgundy, with Vin de Bon, Vin Celestine, and Hermitage, and all the Wines upon the fruitful Rhine.

Sir Humph.

When I debauch, the Yeoman of my Wine cellar, dre'st like God Bacchus, squeezes his twined Wreaths of Grapes upon us—And we have floods of this Poetick Juyce.: But do you hear, Steward, I must have Whores in abundance; see you provide a world of Strumpets.

Stew.

Does not your Worship mistake me? I am your Steward.

Sir Humph.

Yes, to provide me all things necessary; and are any things so necessary as Whores. I say, let me have Whores innumerable, and let it be your special care—That every Gentleman that comes within these Walls may h [...]ve his Cher entirè▪

Stew.

Your Worship has a Mistress, I dare not call her Whore—

Sir Humph.

I keep one high, because it is the fashion; But for my use I'll have as many Whores as mortal man can turn himself to.

Wildm.

Live, live! my Noble Knigh [...], and be Immortal—

Bell.

Push Nature on, my Friend, and live apace.

[Page]Stew.

Hee'l soon be at his Journeys end; But the chief Material is wanting ready Money, I understand the Cash your Father left is flown, to pay in part your Debts.

Sir Humph.

Go to Gripe, my foolish Kinsman the Usurer. That is such an Ass to deny all hi [...] Sences, to live miserably to dye rich: Take 10000 l. and let him have a Mortgage till I cut down Timber to redeem my dirt—begon—

Bell.

This damn'd Usurer has a pretty Wife, I have a devillish mind to her; but she's kept so close, though I have gone to b [...]rrow Money when I have had no need on't, I cannot get access to her; the Rogue suspects every Male, from a Prince to a Kitchin▪ Boy.

Sir Humph.

She's so pretty on my Conscience, none would refuse her; I have set snares for her, she can never be seen but out of a Window, which is no bigger than the hole of a Pillory.

Wildm.

He locks her up, and always carries the Key about him.

Sir Humph.

Nay, at Night he sows his Shirt and her Smock together, that upon any violent motion the twitch may wake him: There's a Horn-preventing Design.

Bell.

Faith, that shall not do, his jealousie shall pimp for me. Let us but wait upon you in a visit to him, and let us alone.

Enter a Footman.

Footm.

An't please your Honour, yonder is a reverend fat old Gentlewoman desires to be admitted.

Sir Humph.

Bring her in: a Bawd I warrant you.

[Enter Bawd.

Oh honest Bawd! How dost thou do?

Bawd.

Do! why I am e'n worn out in your Worships Service; I have gotten a hoarseness will never leave me, with rising a Nights, to let in your Worship, and your unseasonable Company to save my Windows: Well, I cannot live long.

Sir Humph.

Thou wilt dye nobly then, in the Service of thy Countrey.

Bawd.

Nay, Heaven be prais'd, I have been diligent in my Calling, very diligent to supply the Necessities of young Gentlemen.

Stew.

What a despicable thing a Bawd is! I hate 'em with my Heart, filthy Creatures.

Wildm.

They are something filthy;—But they are necessary, very necessary.

Bell.

Poor Bawds are carted, while great Mens Pimps are Company for Lords!

[Page]Bawd.

I have no less than three Maiden-heads upon my hands, I have agreed with their Mothers, who [...]ruly are careful honest Parents, and love to provide for their Children with a Motherly affection. I shall have 'em cheap, considering the [...]arity of Maiden-heads in this Town. I thought to give your Worship notice, if you have use for one of 'em.

Sir Humph.

For one! Ownds! I'll hav [...] 'em all. I'll spare no Money. Let me have 'em to Morrow, or to Night; for fear they should not keep.

Bawd.

I cannot have 'em till to Morrow, I fear.

Bell.

If so—then let us have a Bevy of Whores for a rank Ball, for we intend to be luxurious to Night.

Bawd.

It shall be done: But I am almost faint with running up and down, and taking pains.—

Sir Humph.

Let her be taken in and rub'd and cawdled, as the Good Wives use the Phanatick Labourers in the Gospel; and let the Bawd have Sack enough.

Footm.

It shall be done: yonder are Milleners, Periwigg-men and Perfumers, and Tradesmen of all sorts waiting without.

Sir Humph.

Bid my Steward and Valet de Chambre dispatch 'em; I hate Business: Now let us revel, this Day I dedicate to all my Senses; I'il Feast 'em all after we have Dln'd with all the Luxury Wit [...]an invent, with choicest Musick, and the best of Women—

Bell.

Whores, you mean.

Wildm.

Ay, ay! What use can we make of honest Women?

Bell.

None: They are as bad as Drones in a Hive.

Sir Humph.

Whores I do mean: With whom after we have Danc'd and Toy'd—I'll have my Baths prepared full of most fragrant Scents. Where we will play and wanton with our Concubines; there we ll lye soaking till we be refreshed. Then we'll come out, be rub'd, and be anointed with precious Oyls and Essences; and then we'll roll our selves in Beds of Orange-Flowers.

Bell.

How I dissolve at the Description.

Wild.

I am all Extasie already.

Enter Celia, Phillis, and Cloris.

Sir Humph.

Oh, here's my Mistress.

Omn.

We come to wi [...] you Joy, my dear Lord, of this happy Day.

Sir Humph.

Ye bring it with you! Gentlemen, salute these fair Ladies.

[They salute.

[Page]Bell.

Are these Friends of your Mistress, Whores?

Wild.

If they be, as a hundred to one they are, They are glorious ones!

Sir Humph.

Fy, fy, Whores! That's a naughty word. They are Ladies; there are no Whores but such as are poor and beat Hemp, and Whipt by Rogues in Blew Coats.

Bell.

They are brave Magistrates to commit Adultery themselves, and whip poor Wenches for simple Fornication.

Wild.

There's no Law to whip but that of Vagrants, and when a poor Wench has laboured in her Calling seven years in the same Parish; These Fellows will whip her for a Vagrant.

Bell.

These old Fellows, that love it themselves, think the Wenches do so too, perhaps.

Chlo.

You are the pattern of all Knights; you keep your Mistress so fine; I'll swear 'tis very commendable—

Celia.

Oh 'tis admirable! all the Town admires you: You win the Hearts of all the Ladies with it, I vow.

Sir Humph.

No! we must all yield to your Friend Sir Nicholas Peakgoose: He is the most liberal and most obsequious Keeper, and [...]tarves his Wife and Children for you.

Celia.

I must confess he does pretty well.—

Sir Humph.

Why did you not bring him hither?

Celia.

I should be willing enough; but if I use him to't, he'll be always going abroad in my Coach with me: No! that must not be.

Chlo.

She has a rare hand over him; if I could govern my Gallant so, I were a Princess.

Phill.

I desire not to govern, my Dear; if I have but thy Love, Child, I wish for nothing else—But thy Money.

[Aside.

Sir Humph.

No more! No more! Call in my Musick, and let 'em Sing and Play—Come in.

SONG.

LOve thee till there shall be an end of matter,

So long, till Courtiers leave in Courts to flatter;

While empty Courtlings shall laugh, jeer, and jibe,

Or till an old lean▪ Judge refuse a Bribe.

[Page]Till Young'men Women bate, I will love thee;

Till greedy Lawyers shall renounce a Fee,

And till Decrepit Misers Money hate,

Or Statesmen leave to juggle in a State.

While Priests Ambition troubles Common-wealths,

Till Whores grow chaste and Thieves forsake their Stealths;

Till Tradesmen leave to Cozen and to Lye,

Till there's a Worthy Flatt'rer, or Brave Spie.

Till Honest Valiant Men can be afraid,

Till Kings by Favourites are not betray'd;

Till all Impossibles do meet in one,

I'll love thee Phillis, and love thee alone.

Sir Humph.

Now let us retire and take the Pleasure of our Gardens: Musick follow us—

[Exeunt Omnes.

Enter Gripe and Richard.

Gripe.

Come Richard, because thou art but new come, I must instruct thee—Thou see'st my whole Design is to be Rich.

Rich.

Yes, and to keep your Servants Poor.

Gripe.

And to that end, I deny and keep my ba [...]e unruly Senses under: for if any one sense get the better of a man; he'll ne'r be rich.

Rich.

I am sure I han't pleas'd one since I came.

Gripe.

That's well: Let me have three Ribs of Mutton boil'd in a Pipkin for our Dinners; go, buy me a lean Breast—lean meat is wholsomest.

Rich.

If I could light of a Sheep that dy'd in a Ditch.

Gripe.

Ay, that should be cheap—besides, I like a Natural Death better than Murder. To Morrow is Holy day—I will have four Ribs, and some Cabbage.

Rich.

This is feasting, b [...]t our ordinary Diet of Oatmeal and Water—

Gripe.

'Tis very wholsom and cleansing—

Rich.

'Tis the Scotch-Diet, very good for Mangy Hounds; What Sawce will you have for your Mutton?

Gripe.

A Pox on Sawce! it spoils the Natural appetite; yet some Onion or Garlick you may get: I have some Ferkin'Butter and Suffolk Cheese, fine lean Cheese, twill go so far—

[Page]Rich.

Sir, I have a great Inclination to a [...] ▪ May I not get one? 'tis cheap—

Gripe.

Not so cheap, yet next Holy-day I will buy one for my Family: But Ox Livers and the Entrails o [...] [...], are very nourishing.

Rich.

He cannot b [...] content to [...]ob and oppress men with his Extortion, but he must rob the D [...]gs of their diet; you [...] Kids and Lambs of your own, if it please your Worship.

Gripe.

It does not please my Worship, sure you have liv'd with some Epicure: No, sell 'em to Luxurious fools, that will die Beggars.

Rich.

I hear Sir Humphrey Scattergood intends to send a Buck.

Gripe.

I'll sell it then; 'twill cost more the Baking than 'tis worth—we kill our selves in England with filthy pampering.

Rich.

I can go a Fowling with my Peice, and catch Wild-fowl for your Worship.

Gripe.

By my troth but your Worship shall not; you will spend more in Powder and Shot than your Bodie's worth; Besides, a waterSpaniel with his ravenous gut will [...]at me out of house and home: Wild-fowl? They are fit for Lucullus or Apiciu [...].

Rich.

Sir, we can steal Coneys, if it please you—

Gripe.

No Sir! I must find you Butter. What damn'd Luxurious Fellow hast thou lived with?

Rich.

Sir, I beseech you be pleas'd to let us have some Wheat Bread, for I have gotten the Griping, and the Iliaca Pas [...]io, with Rye and Barley Bread.

Gripe.

Peace Fool! I am not so Prodigal, thank Heav'n.

Rich.

Must we never have any Wine or Strong—Beer—

Gripe.

Why! you Impudent fellow, would you have us dye of F [...]avers? To drink Wine shall be Treason, and strong Beer Felony without Clergy: I have wholsom very, very small Beer, so clear, so fine, the Mault not to be tasted in't—The Patriarchs drank nothing but Water.

Rich.

That I deny, ask Lot else▪

Gripe.

Go—Unlock my Wife's Chamber, and bid h [...]r come to me▪ This damn'd pampering Rogue would ruin me with his Gut.

Enter Mrs. Gripe.

Mrs. Gripe.

Will this Tyra [...]nie never be at an end? must I be always thus abridg'd of Liberty? a [...]am▪d Fowl ha [...] a better tim [...] on't, for that's fed well; but I am coop'd up and starv [...] ▪ [...]ay have no Necessary of life, that's fit for a young Woman—

[Page]Gri [...]e.

Come Love, you have very good wholsom food, 'tis fit a young Woman should mortifie and keep down her Lusts.

Rich.

Especially when she marries an old Man, hee'l fast her down to his own appetite—

Mrs. Gripe.

Nay, in the Winter I am kept without Fire or Candle. I have neither Natural or Artificial heat from—

Gripe.

'Tis to preserve thy life, my Love. Didst thou ever see Cooks or Glassmen long liv'd? Fire destroys the Natural heat, they live longest in cold Countreys.

Rich.

Yet Meat is always raw for want of fire.

Gripe.

I will save fire, and have it roasted by Burning▪ Glasses; and instead of Candles (and by the way the Grand Signior, suffers none of his Wives to have any,) I will have Glow-worms, rotten Wood and fish Bones—Fire suffocates Natural heat.

Mrs. Gripe.

I have heard your Servants in Winter wi [...]h for the Plague or any hot Disease; and I for my part could be contented with a Feaver.

Gripe.

Can you not use Exercise to stir up your Natural heat.

Mrs. Gripe.

You let me have Exercise little enough! Heav'n knows.

Gripe.

Can you not play at Shuttlecock, or carry a Handful upon occasion?

Rich.

I will play at Stool-ball with the Maids, and that will stir up Natural heat.

Mrs. Gripe.

No—I have endured your cruel Tyranny too long; but above all, your Jealousie is most provoking.

G [...]ipe.

'Tis nothing but my love, my great love. Dost thou think I do not love my Money—why I am Jealous of that, and lock it up as I do thee—I know what a Treasure thou ar [...] ▪

Mrs. Gripe.

Give me leave to know my own value too: And that I deserve not to be used so, I will have the liberty of a She-Subject of England.

Gripe.

What a Pox! The liberty of Cuckolding your Husband, for that it comes to, to receive Visits, and sculk about in Chairs in Vizors, to meet damn'd Roguy Whoremasters, which they call Admirers with a Pox to 'em.

Mrs. Gripe.

Thou deserv'st to be used so. When you are at home I am never out of my Prison, but in your presence, my cruel Jailor; and when you are abroad, I am fed at a Grate like the Lyons in the Tower (if I may call it feeding.) If there be any means under the Sun to get [...]y liberty, I will attempt it.

[Enter Rich.

[...].

Nay then I will use my Conjugal authority.

[Page]Rich.

Sir Humphrey Sca [...]ergood's Steward is come [...]o [...]peak with you.

Gripe.

Go into your Chamber! go, I say.

Mrs. Gripe.

Well Tyrant, I shall be quit with you.

Gripe.

No, you shall not; I'll take care not to be a Cuckold.

[She goes, he follows her, lock's [...]er in, and returns.

Enter Steward.

Rich.

Your humble Servant.

Stew.

Sir, I am your Friend and Serva [...]t to command. Mr. Gripe, Good Morrow to your Worship.

Gripe.

Mr. Steward, What brings you hither.

Stew.

My Master's Command.

Gripe.

What can his Worship honour me withal?

Stew.

It is to borrow Money on a Mortgage.

Gripe.

Looke you Richard, this is an Ass that will please all his Senses, and he must borrow▪ Oh damn'd Senses! Well, the Money's ready, 10000l. we treated for.

Stew.

E're long we shall have occasion to trouble you for more, as Sir Humph [...]ey goes on.

Gripe.

See what becomes of foolish Sense-pleasers! Poor Puppies! Miserable▪ Fools! I pity 'em: I'll not please one, not [...] ▪ Richard: Come, let's about this Business, and get my Lord to Seal.

Rich.

Well said, old Chaucer, say I.—

'Twould make one▪scratch where it does not i [...]ch,

To see Fools live poor to dye rich.

[Exeunt.

The End of the First Act.

ACT. II.

[Page]

Enter Sir Humphry, Bellamy, Wildman, Phillis, Celia, Chloris. Servants waiting at Dinner.

Sir Humph.

CAll in my Musick! I'll consecrate my Birth-Day to all my Senses: He is a narrow-hearted Ass that pleases one at once; I'll please as many as I can together.

Bell.

It is Ingenious Luxury!

Sir Humph.

I hate a mere Glutton, a mere Drunkard, or a meer Wencher; They are as bad as meer Scholars or meer Lawyers, good for nothing else: That man is happiest that takes delight in most things: There's not a Virtue or a Vice I'll leave untry'd for Pleasure or for Curiosity.

Wildm.

There spoke a Cherub; Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high; fill all the Glasses up; for why, here's our noble Friend's, Sir Humphrey's Health.

Bell.

Give me a Brimmer to celebrate his Birth-day. Ladies, There's no scaping this Health. Men of Rosin and Cats-guts, strike up.

Sir Humph.

Strike up! D' hear Rascals! Let me have costlier Scents, and fume the Room; my Nostrils are not pleas'd enough.

Bell.

Are all ready? a Thousand years to you.

Wildm.

And all the while the joy of Wine, Youth, and Beauty with you.

Phill.

Thy everlasting Health, my Dear!

[Sound an Alarm all together. They flourish.

Enter Gripe, Steward, and Richard▪

Stew.

My Lord, Mr. Gripe has drawn Bills; they are accepted, and he is come to have you Sign and Seal—

Sir Humph.

Kick that old Fool out, is he come to interupt my pleasure with damn'd confounded Business? which always must with me give way to my delight.

Stew.

How this must rejoyce my old Master's Ghost, cou'd he but see it!

Gripe.

Good! How fast his Worships Land will m [...]lt into my Coffers; these are foolish Sense-pleasers, Richard.

Sir Humph.

Sit down and eat with us, Mr. Gripe.

Gripe.

I will not eat luxurious Meats: I love no Surfeits.

Bell.

Give him a Beer Glass to Sir Humphrey's Health.

[Page]Gripe.

I have renounced Wine, I do not care for Feavers, nor will I please one Sense I have.

Cel.

Out on him! Filthy fellow▪ will he not please his Senses?

Bell.

Methinks a Feaver should be a very pleasant Disease for an old Man.

Rich.

Are you mad Sir! why 'twill cost you nothing; at least give me leave to snap at a little Meat and Wine.

Gripe.

You Rascal! will you Disgrace my House-keeping. They'l think y'are Hungerstarv'd—

Rich.

They'l not think much amiss.

Gripe.

Peace you damn'd Epigram! contein your self, or I will mawl your Pate for you: Laugh at these Sense▪ pleasers; They will dye in Ditches, fool.

Richard.

Better dye than live in Ditches, and we live worse—for Frogs have a better life than we.

Phill.

Let us not mind this Brute. But let your Servants Dance their Entry you promis'd—

Sir Humph.

Let 'em begin!

Dance.

Does not this please you?

Gripe.

What is the worth of any thing, but so much Money as 'twill bring: He was a brave Poet that wrote that.

Sir Humph.

But here are fine Ladies! here's a sight for you, and to enjoy 'em in Dalliance, were pleasure infinite—

Gripe.

A huge Trunk-full of Bonds and Mortgages, and another great Coffer-full of Money to rowl and wanton in; There's a sight! there's rapture for you—

Sir Humph.

Yes, for Fools that make Money the end of their wishes, and not the means to other things. Come on! Sing the Song I love so well—

Gripe.

Pox on Songs! give me the Jingling of Money-bags.

SONG.

LEt some great joys pret [...]nd to find

In empty Whim [...]ies of the mind;

And nothing to the Soul can come,

Till th' ushering Senses make it roo [...].

Nor can the Mind be e'r at ease,

Unless you first the Body please.

[Page]Lif [...] is, what [...]'re [...] M [...]n m [...]y doub [...],

But taking in and putting out.

Since Life's but a Span,

Live as much as you can:

Let none of it pass without Pleasure;

But push on your Strength

Of what Life wants in length:

In the Br [...]adth you must make up the Measure.

2.

All solid Pleasures, Fo [...]s lay by;

And seek they know not what, nor why:

Imperfect Images th' enjoy,

Which Fancy makes, and can deftroy.

Wh' in immaterial things delight,

Dream in the Day as well as Night:

In that how can they Pleasure take,

Of which no Image Thought can make.

Since Life's, &c.

3.

In vain no moment then be spent,

Fill up the little Life that's lent;

Feasts, Musick, Wine the Day possess;

The Night, Lov [...], Youth and Beauty bless.

The Senses now in parcels treat,

Then all together by the great;

No empty space in Life be found,

But one continued Joy go round.

Since Life's, &c.

Phill.

Very fine, I vow—

Celia.

Upon my word 'tis delicate!

Chl.

Well, Sir Humphrey's a sweet man.

Sir Humph.

How do you like this, Mr. Gripe?

Gripe.

'Tis abominable, profane, scandalous, and scurvy.

Sir Humph.

I'll try to please you; you shall hear an Italian Eunuch.

Gripe.

I had as lieve hear a Grey-hound with Trillo's and long Graces, sing a Love Song to the Moon; But much rather hear my Mastiff [...]eaching my Neighbour's Hog his Gamut, when he comes into my Ground.

Sir Humph.

What think you of a broken Con [...]ort of Violins [Page] and Theorbo's joyn'd [...] Italian Voices. I'll have that for you.—

Gripe.

I had rather hear a Broken Consort in my Hogyard: My Bores and Sows grunt out Harmonious Bases, my Hogs sing out their Brisker Countenours, my swee [...] voic'd Pigs squeak out Melodious Trebles.—

Bell.

What think you of a Consort of Cathedral Voices.

Gripe.

I had rather h [...]ar sweet Frogs chant out their Anthems against Rain, joyn'd with the passionate voices of old Toads. And for my more sprightly Musick—Schreech Owls, and a Consort of Cats run mad for Love, with the Harmonious braying of some Asses; joyn'd to these a Paper-Mill for an Organ, a Pewterer, Silver-Smith, Trunk-Maker, with Tinkers playing thorough Bases upon Kettles. Tell not me of Musick; dispatch my Business.

Sir Humph.

Come I will withdraw with you, and Sign and Seal.

Phill.

Ladies, I will wait on you again instantly.

[Exit all but Bell. Wild. Celia, Chloris.

Bell.

Survey my youth, and reslect upon your own Beauty, and immagin whether it be possible to forbear thinking or talking of Love when we meet—

Celia.

Neither thinking nor talking of Love will do the business, I am engaged to Sir Nicholas Peakegoose, and would not be false for the whole world, I swear—

Bell.

True to him, 'tis impossible; you cannot love him, he's ugly and foolish—

Celia.

Oh, but he's very good natur'd, and admires me extreamly—you that call your selves witty men, have some Love indeed; but 'tis like French Courage, hot in the Onset, and as swift in the retreat—

Wildm.

True to a keeper, sure you will not be a thing so out of fashion—

Chlo.

Oh Lord, I would not be false to Sir Chri [...]topher Smash for all this earthly good: 'Tis a shame Women should be so false to their Intrigues, as some are; I wonder at their Consciences. What do they think will become of their Souls another day?

Wildm.

Love heartily, as I do, and 'twill take away that scruple; let me tell you, [...] a great Sin, and I wonder you can have the Conscience not to pity [...]e: For you have struck me to the hea [...]—

Chlo.

You are pleas'd to say so.

Wildm.

Will you hear me swear bloodily? by—

[Page]Chlo.

Hold! hold! have you no Religion in you? Lord, how I tremble for fear of an Oath!

Bell.

'Tis true, he pays for your Body; but 'tis not fit he should have your mind: let me but have that—

Celia.

That will not serve your turn.

Bell.

No,—But if I have the Mind once, I am sure the Body is not far off, which would be ne'r the worse for Sir Nicholas should I leave it, which I never would—

Celia.

Shall it ever be said that I am false to my Keeper?—

Bell.

No, it shall never be told; and if it were, hee'd ne'r believe it, who is so conceited of himself, that he thinks you love him.

Celia.

We of our Profession must be as careful of our Credit as Merchants and Bankers should be; if we break with one, we shall ne'r be trusted by another.

Bell.

Care to conceal is good; but barren Truth is good for nothing: The falsest Women like the greatest Knaves, thrive most.

Wild.

I should love at another rate than your Friend Swash; I should not leave you for the love of Bottles and the Company of Bullies, to roar, and scowr, and break Windows.

Chlo.

Indeed he is a little too wild, but he has the prettiest merry humours with him—

Wild.

I desire but to visit you, while Drink makes him unfit for you; I am sure you do not love him.

Chlo.

No, why he's the prettiest wittiest wild Gentleman about the Town: He says the Wits love him dearly.

Bell.

All Love is in equality. I am sure you cannot love him whom you keep under like a Spaniel.

Celia.

Indeed I keep him in Discipline; do not Fathers love their Children, yet keep 'em at a distance.

Enter Sir Christopher Swash, Blunderbus, and Heildebrand.

Sir Christ. and Bullie [...] Sing.

LEt's Drink, let's Drink all Day and Night Give each a lusty Bowl:

This is the ravishing Delight Of ev'ry Thirsty Soul;

Let others soak all Night in Beds And live but half their time,

The Wine that's always in our Heads Shall still preserve us in ou [...] prime, Shall still, &c.

[Page]Sir Christ.

The Devil take me Blunderbus and Heild [...]brand, if we be nt very mad Fellows.

Celia▪

This is Sir Christopher Swash, and his two Bullies.

Blund.

Ounds! what Prigg is yon talking with your Natural—

Heild.

Shall I pluck out Porker, and lay him on thick?

Sir Chr.

No, he's my friend, an honest fellow, and as mad a fellow as the best of us. Honest Wildman Oylie, how dost thou do? How dost Prigg Bellamy? Gad we have had a rare Night on't, we have roar'd, and sung and ranted; kick't all Males, kiss'd all Females, swing'd Constables and Watches, trounced Bailiffs, broke Windows and stormed Bawdy-houses, and committed other outrages to the confusion of much people—

Celia.

Oh, fie my Dear; why wouldst thou venture thy Person, when thou know'st how I love thee? get thee gon, Thou art such a wild thing.

Sir Chr.

Peace, my Buttock, no harm done; we have not been in Bed these four and twenty hours.

Let others soak all Night in Beds, &c.

[Sings.

And live but half their time, &c.

On my Conscience and Soul we broke Fourscore pounds worth of Windows.

Bell.

Is not this a pretty Gentleman to be in Love with?

Sir Chr.

Pray, know my Friends, Blunderbus and Heildebrand: They are as honest fellows as e'r drank Beer-glass, and as brave as ever stood Cannon-bullet—But where's Sir Humphrey? hey—hey—

The Wine that's always in our Heads

Shall still preserve us in our prime.

Am not I a very mad fellow, Ha, Sir Humphrey—Hey boys! let▪ me kiss thee, Oyl [...]e—

Enter Sir Humphrey, Phillis, and Steward.

Sir Humph.

Sir Christopher Swash, your Servant.

Sir Chr.

Let me present these Gentlemen to you they are of good Families; Their Name Blunderbus and Heildebrand.

Sir Humph.

They are great Names indeed; but they are something negligently dress'd—

Sir Chr.

That's all one, they are as brave as Lightning; and will kick [...]ailiffs like Thunder, and faith they'l scowr and roar like Cannon. They are the best Company in the world, and are my Lifeguard against Bailiffs.

[Page]Sir Humph.

They look dreadfully—

Sir Chr.

Dreadfully! so they do; why each of 'em has kill'd his man. But as they are very brave, so they are very ingenious, and rare Company—Here's Heildebrand has a number of the purest Bawdy Songs, and will Sing and Play a thorow▪ base with his fingers rubbing too and fro upon a Table thus, most incomparably; and then Blunderbus will hoop, hollow, and hunt over a Bottle with any man in Europe, and they are the bravest Catch-singers both of 'em—

Blund.

Nay, gad Sir Nicholas, you make me blush.

Heild.

Upon my honour, you Compliment!

Sir Chr.

Because they say so now, you shall hear 'em sing—a Boat, a Boat.

Blund.

Come on.

Heild.

To please you—

A Boat, a Boat, haste to the Ferry, &c.

[They Sing.

Sir Chr.

Are not we mad Fellows? Faith we can be merry and we set on't; we have roar'd and scowr'd, and kept Covent-garden waking all last Night.

Blund.

On my Conscience we beat Threescore people.

Sir Chr.

Ay, Fourscore, Men, Women, and Children—ha, was not that well?

Sir Humph.

Oh very well! Hark you Gentlemen, a Design comes into my Head of carrying this roaring Company, the Women and the Fiddles to that wretch Gripe's House—

Bell.

That will be very well—'Twill fright him out of his Wits, and perhaps free his Wife into the Bargain—

Blund.

Whose Caravan is that other which yon spruce Prigg talks with—

Sir Chr.

A Coxcomb's, one Sir Nicholas Peak-goose.—

Heild.

Does yon fellow manage her?

Sir Chr.

No, she's kept I tell you: Do you think a Woman that's kept would lye with another?

Phill.

We shall certainly have very good sport.

Sir Humph.

'Tis resolv'd, Sir Christopher—we have resolv'd that all this Company, and my Fiddles, shall forthwith go to the wretch Gripe's House, and Rant and Sing, Dance and Roar, and play pranks there—

Sir Chr.

Hey Boys! Hey! a most admirable Design—Wee'l tear the ground, and roar, and make more noise than a Sea-Fight.

Good store of brisk Claret supplies, &c.

And the Man that is Drunk is as great as a King.

[Page]Sir Humph.

Well said, Sir Christopher, d'ye hear Steward, bid all my Coaches be brought to the Gate; and provide a Collation fit for us, as you tender your Ears; and send all my Fiddles and Voices to Gripe's with the Collation—

Sir Chr.

Come! let's march on, Blunderbus and Heildebrand; we will break Windows all the way we go, Kick every Male from a Link-boy to a Lord upwards; Kiss every Female, from the Simpering Lady to the Widemouth Jade that crys Sprats; Swinge Bum-bailiffs excessively, and commit filthy outrage, to the astonishment of the Mobile: Come along.

Good store of good Claret supplies, &c.

[Exeunt Omn [...]s.

SCENE Gripe's House.

Gripe and Richard.

Gripe.

Where have you been roguing Sirrah, that you did not wait on me home?

Rich.

I stay'd to do a thing I am not us'd to, fill my Belly, enjoy my Friends, and be Merry.

Gripe.

Oh Devil—I think the Rogue stinks of Strong-Beer, foh—▪

Rich.

That's a lye. 'Tis Wine! Cry you mercy Sir, is that a stink? here's Sir Humphrey's good Health—He's a Noble person, will you pledge me, Sir—

Gripe.

Heav'n and Earth! the Impudent Rogue's Drunk—

Rich.

I have Drank and Victual'd at Sir Humphrey's for a Months Famine I am to endure here—I am hung round with Bottles and stuft full of Provision; will you eat a Pullet?

Gripe.

Oh impudent Villain! bring Drunkenness into my House—

Rich.

Ay, or else I ne'r should have found it here—

Gripe.

Audacious Villain! Thou stay'st not in my House—I will turn thee away presently—

Rich.

The best News I have heard these ten days—

Gripe.

Say'st thou so Rogue, no, I will have thee whipt soundly▪ And in the mean time I will beat thee damnably, to tame thy damn'd unrul [...] Senses. Thou base, filthy Swine—

Rich.

Here's Twelve Go-downs more upon Reputation, to Sir Hump [...]rey's Health—

Gripe.

I'll health you Rogue! take that—I'll mawl your Rogue [...]hip—

[Page]Rich.

'Twas base to take advantage of my Drinking. Stand off, I say; for if you strike once more, take notice good Claret has taken away the relation betwixt us, and I shall grow damnably passionate—

Gripe.

Ha! the Rogue may kill me in his Drink, and for ought I know rob me, which is worse. Go, and bid the Maid set on the Pipkin with the black Pudding for your Mistresse's Supper and mine.

Rich.

A Pox on Pipkins—I have brought my Mistress some cram'd Chickens, Westphalia Bacon, Neats Tongues, and some [...]hing else in my Breeches—I have an honour for my Mistress, and should be loath to see her want.

Gripe.

Thy Back shall be mawl'd for this at Bridewell to Morrow; Rogue, Dog, Son of a Whore: Richard, sell that Wine and Provision, and I will put the Money out for thee. 'Twill come to a pretty Sum in a year—

Rich.

I scorn Usury: Do you think I'll be curst as you are?

Gripe.

As I am! Rogue—

Rich.

Good words, I say,—for I am in an ill h [...]mour, and shall be suddenly provoked; but to shew I am in perfect Charity with you, here's to my Mistresse's health, I honour her most immaculately—

Gripe.

Go, go—out, and sleep and be sober—

Rich.

Well, farewel; I'll not keep such base sober Company—

Gripe▪

To morrow shall thy Carcass suffer, and thy Senses be tamed. Here Mally! where art thou? Come we will walk and take the Air, that thou may'st get a Stomach to thy Supper.

Enter Mrs. Gripe▪

Mrs. Gripe.

'Twere well if I could get a good Supper to my Stomach.

Gripe.

I keep a temperate Diet to preserve us. Do not they that fare hardest live longest?

Mrs. Gripe.

I can endure your dissembling no longer. 'Tis for the love of vile Money, and not care of my Health. I have born thy Tyranny too long.

Gripe.

I Save▪ to make thee a rich Widow—I think the Woman begins to be peevi [...]h. Come, I will kiss thee, and put thee in good [...]umour, feth I will.

Mrs. Gripe.

Kiss a Death's head! a Coffin! my Mother betray'd me in my Youth to the slavery of thy Age. Thou didst promise to be a Father to me; thou canst not be a Husband, and wilt not be a Father—but a cruel Tyrant.

[Page]Gripe.

Be not perverse; for by Cock and Bottle, Heav'n forgive me for Swearing—I will give thee Conjugal Chastisement—

Mrs. Gripe.

Sheart! talk no more to me of that, you have worn out all my patience; and I henceforward will be a Tigress to thee.

Gripe.

Audacious!

Mrs. Gripe.

I have a Brother, who comes this Night to Town, he loves me, we were Twins, he'll right me; Thou never saw'st him, but shortly to thy cost thou shalt—His Serjeant spoke to me out at my Prison Window, he is beating up Drums for a supply for Flanders. There is not a fiercer young Officer in the Army: He'll cut thy Throat if thou abusest me so.

Gripe.

Death, is that Hectorly Fellow come, you use to threaten me with? Oh Impudence! my Family is turn'd Topsy-turvy—

Mrs. Gripe.

I will have the same Christian Liberty that others of my quality have, I will visit and be visited—

Gripe.

Visits with a Pox; ay, that way come Messages, Tokens, Letters and Bawding for one another, and the Frolick goes round.

Mrs. Gripe.

I will have Money enough to venture 50 l. in a Night at Ombre.

Gripe.

Ounds 50 l. she makes me tremble!

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll make you know the right of an English Woman before I have done.

Gripe.

Prodigious and amazing! the right of an English Woman to cheat and cuckold her Husband! in into your Chamber! go in, I say!

Mrs. Gripe.

Peace, old Fool. I say not in.

Gripe.

Nay then Correction will ensue▪

Mrs. Gripe.

Yes! that it shall old Tyrant—

He lifts up his Cane, she wrests it out of his hand.

Gripe.

What noise is that?

Enter a Servant of Sir Humphrey Scattergood.

Serv.

Sir, My Master is just entring with a great Train of Gentlemen and Ladies, and has sent a Collation and Bottles of Wine, that you may not be at Charges.

Gripe.

Confound him and his Train. D'e hear Mrs. go into your Chamber.

Mrs. Gripe.

I will stay to entertain the Ladies.

Gripe.

Ladies! Whores▪ a Plague on 'em all! in, in, or this knife shall be embrued in thy Blood.

Mrs. Gripe.

Help! help! I will not go in.

[Page]Enter Sir Humphrey, Sir Christopher, Bellamy, Wildman, Heildebrand and Blunderbus, with Phillis, Celia, Chloris. Servants, Fiddles, &c.

Sir Humph.

What's the matter! at wars with your Wife?

Gripe.

My dear Wife! No—She is not well, she will endanger her health; which is very dear to me.

Mrs. Gripe.

I am well—I shall not endanger my health, nor is it dear to him. Ladies, your humble Servant, I am proud of the honour of this visit.

[Men and Women salute Mrs. Gripe.

Gripe.

Ounds! she can Compliment. Death they kiss too most Lasciviously—

Sir Chr.

How dost thou do, old Boy! we are come to Drink, Sing, Roar, and be merry with thee,

The Kings mo [...]t faithful Subjects [...]e

In's Service are not Dull,

We drink to show our Loyalty

And make his Coffers full.

Would all his Subjects dr [...]nk like us,

We'd make him richer far,

More Powerful and more Prosp'rou [...] ▪

Then all the Eastern Monarchs are,

Then all, &c.

Sir Humph.

Madam! I come to endeavour your release, and therefore be ready at the first opportunity.

Mrs. Gripe.

You oblige me.

Gripe.

Have you any private business with my Wife?

[Comes▪ betwixt [...]em.

Sir Chr.

What a Pox, do you interrupt a Gentleman, that's talking to your Wife—hah!

Heild.

He deserves Chastisement, you uncivil old Prigg.

Blund.

If he had offer'd that to me, I would have blow [...] him into Atoms.

Sir Chr.

Shall I beat him, and kick him damnably, and break his Windows, Sir Humphrey, ha!

Sir Humph.

Not yet! Come Ladies, I have brought my Fiddles. Let's have a Dance in the first place.

Mrs. Gripe.

With all my heart.

[Page]Grip [...].

What will becom [...] of me! Hell is broke loose. Huswife, remember this.

Sir Humph.

Come Mr. Gripe, will you joyn with us?

Gripe.

No Sir, I thank you Richard; raise the Constable and a strong Watch against these outragious Rascals.

Rich.

Sir, I will not for the world; Sir Humphrey is my Friend, and I love and honour him; and here' [...] another Rous to his health.

Gripe.

Hell and Confusion! Damn'd Rogue! I'll murder thee.

Rich.

You shall not starve me as long as Sir Humphrey lives, i'gad.

Gripe.

Ounds! She dances, a very damn'd confounded TownJade.

They dance a Country Dance, at the end of which Sir Humphrey leads her out Dancing.

Hell and Devils! what trick's this—oh my Wife, my Wife, come in you Baggage.

[He runs out and pulls her in.

Sir Humph.

Are you mad? 'Tis part of the Dance.

Gripe.

You shall lead her no such Dan [...]e. Here Huswife, get you into your Chamber.—

Sir Chr.

What do you interrupt the Dan [...]e? Earthquakes, Inundations, roaring Seas and Thunder, I'll mawl ye.

[Kicks him.

Rich.

There's rare taming of you [...] Senses for you.

Mrs. Gripe.

Excellent—I'll not take 200 l. for this beating.

Sir Chr.

Break all the Windows—Heildebrand [...]d Blunderbus—

Mrs. Gripe.

Hold, hold! what do you mean?

Gripe.

Good again, very good.

Sir Chr.

At your Command much may be done, Madam.

Sir Humph.

Sirrah! Fill every one a Brimmer to Mrs. Gripe's health. Give Gripe one.

Sir Chr.

Take it, and drink it to your Ladie's health; or by the Soul of Scanderbeg I will carbonado thy old musty Body.

Gripe.

Pl [...]gues! and Curses! well, there's no remedy.

Sir Chr.

Down on your Knees all. Strike up Fiddles, an Alarm, Fire all—Hey Boys—

Good store of brisk Claret s [...]pplies ev'ry t [...]ing,

And the Man, &c.

Am not I a very mad fellow, Sir Humphrey?

Celia.

Did you ever see such an odious old fellow?

Bell.

Women, I see can lye by any na [...]useous Ras [...]als, if they'l marry them or keep 'em—I am sure you cannot nor shall not love Sir Nichol [...]

Wildm.

Prithee! think no more of that Roister.

[Page]Chlo.

Really [...]e's a pretty witty wild Creature.

Gripe.

Gentlemen, what have I done to deserve these Outrages?

Sir Chr.

Done! Damm'e you are a Rogue, and an Usurer, Sirrah!

Phill.

Done! filthy fellow to shut up your Wife against the Law of Nature.

Sir Humph.

We come to oblige you, to visit and be merry with you and your Lady—

Sir Chr.

Hands all around▪ We'll Dan [...]e ab [...]ut him, till you run away with his Wife. Play Fiddles—fa, la, la, la, la.

Sir Hum.

Come Madam,—break off—

He breaks off with Mrs. Gripe▪—As he's going off, Gripe creeps under their Legs.

Gripe.

Come back Whoremaster! have I caught you, Strumpet? remember there is Law Sir. Remember that—

Blund.

What does the Scoundrel talk of Law?

Heild.

Beat his Brains out.

[Boy with a Flambeux ready.

Mrs. Gripe.

Now Gentlemen, you must give me leave to say you do not well to triumph o're an old Man. He is my Husband, and I must love him; though he uses me tyrannically, and shuts me up in Prison—

Celia.

How, shut up your Wife!

Chlo.

How, shut up your Wife!

Phill.

How, shut up your Wife!

Celia.

Oh thou old Do [...]rd. Thou shame of Mankind!

Chlo.

Woman was meant to go at large: Thou filthy Creature.

Phill.

Shall Woman, that's wild by Nature, be tam'd by thee base Fellow?

Sir Humph.

He invades the right of Whoremasters, and 'tis not to be born; we have the right of Commonage, and he impales.

Gripe.

Heav'n protect me but this once, I seldom trouble it.

Mrs. Gripe.

I am resolv'd to escape, but not in such lewd Company. Richard, Do you stand here whatever happens till I come to you, and do as I direct you, and I'll reward you—

Rich.

Any thing; for I love and honour you, and scorn and hat [...] my Master.

Gripe.

Yet I say, Mally, good Mally go into my Chamber.

Mrs. Gripe.

I perceive their intentions are base—I will my dear, instantly▪ Sir, put out all the Candles, and I'll secure my Escape.

Sir Humph.

With all my heart, Gentlemen, assist me in this Design.

Gripe.

The Candles are out—murder, murder, help, help. I am cuckolded, rob'd, undone. Murder! Villains, Thieves, Murderers, [Page] Whoremasters, Sons o' Whores, Rascals, Strumpets—

[Mrs. Gripe puts a loose Gown on Richard.

Mrs. Gripe.

Where art thou, my Dear? I will go in with thee, I am convinc'd I was in the wrong.

[She puts Rich. hand in Gripe's.

Gripe.

Come my Dear, give me thy hand, my good Dear; I'll mawl thee with a Plague to thee for this—anon—

[Aside. [Gripe leads Rich. into the Chamber for his Wife.

Mrs Gripe.

Now—farewel old Tyrant, and all the rest of ye; if I had escap'd by violence, I had had a hue and cry after me, and been stopt presently—

[Exit Mrs. Gripe.

Heild.

Gad! its dark—have at these Women—Ounds you Son of a Whore.

Kisses Cel. Bell. strikes him, he strikes Blunder.

Blund.

Lightning and Thunder! what Rascal cufft me? have at somebody.

Sir Humph.

What's the Matter! Flamboyes come in.

They draw, Women shriek and get out.

Sir Chr.

I'll stand up against the Wall. Fight on my merry men all—

Gripe.

Oh for some Murder among themselves.

Enter Footmen with Flambeaux:

Sir Humph.

What's the matter here?

Blund.

I was boxt!

Heild.

I was cufft!

Sir Chr.

Come brave Boys: 'twas in the dark, and 'tis no dishonour, ne'r mind it.

He that wears a brave Soul, and dares handsomly do,

Is a Herauld to himself, and a Godfather too.

Sir Humph.

Some other time let this be examin'd—

Gripe.

Now you'l be gon; She you came for is safe! all your force cannot break open that Dore. There lies your way—

Footm.

He is mistaken, the Lady took one of the Coaches by your order, she said, and is gon—

Sir Humph.

Let's be gon and look after the Ladies.

Blund.

I shall make some smoak.

Heild.

Blood shall ensue—

[Ex. all but Gripe.

Gripe.

I will arrest every man, [...]nd when I have recovered Damages, indict 'em for a Riot, poor Fools! This was a lucky adventure, since I have sav'd my Wife. They have left their Banquet and Wine, I will make Money of it. Let me go fasten my Doors.

[Exit.

The End of the Second Act.

ACT. III.

[Page]

Enter Mr. Gripe.

Gripe.

SO! I have laid up their Provisions, and shall make Money of 'em, as I intend to do of my beating I have had, and the Riot they have committed; I have taken order my drunken Rogue shall be apprehended. But now to my Wife! per [...]idious Jade! I shall keep her Prisoner during life, for all her Hectorly Brother—

[Exit Gripe.

Rich.

within. I think this disguise will fright him, and secure me from a good substantial beating into the bargain: If I can get once out of the Chamber—I am sure I will face him down I ne'r was in it—

Enter Gripe with a Candle.

Gripe.

Here! where is this vile [...] of Woman-kind? Dost thou hide thy self—hah! Mercy upon me! who's here, the Devil! the Devil!—

[He runs roaring out, the Candle falls.

Rich.

I thought my Face was pretty well before; but I see I could make it uglier; Art may improve Nature much. Now will I shift for my self—

[Exit.

Gripe.

Help, help! the Devil! the Devil!

Richard Re-enters in his own Habit.

Rich.

What's the matter Sir?

Gripe.

Oh! the Devil! the Devil in my Chamber!

Rich.

Where! where! Let's see. I have lighted the Candle again!

Gripe.

Oh Rogue! art thou here! I think thou art the Devil, how couldst thou get in else? I lock'd all my dores and search'd every Room in the house, and thou wer't not in any of 'em—

Rich.

Sir, I was grown a little soberer with the fright of the Swords drawn, and sensible of my fault, I hid my self from your Indignation under my Flock-bed, where I have lain and sweat and trembled, till I heard you cry out, and I could not but come to your assistance:

Gripe.

That makes some amends. Let's into my Wife's Chamber and see what's the matter, may be 'twas a trick of the lewd Woman's [Page] to fright me, I am sure I put her in there—I led her by the hand my self—

Rich.

Be not afraid, Sir, sure 'twas no Devil you saw! have you not some guilt upon your Conscience?

Gripe.

Saw [...]y Rogue, I guilt—I have none—I am as innocent as the Child new born. Come—let's in Rasoal. Oh Heav'n! what noise is that, Richard? I say, Richard, keep close to me Sirrah, close—

Rich.

Here's no body in the Chamber—

Gripe.

What do you say, no body? Look about the Bed, and in and under it quickly—

Rich.

Here is no body: Did you lead any body in here?

Gripe.

Yes, yes, I did—I had her by the hand I thought. And she spoke to me as she went in.

Rich.

Without doubt it was the Devil, and he is vanish'd—

Gripe.

Hell and Confusion!

Rich.

Now I think on't, when I ran out at the quarrel, I thought I saw my Mrs. go out hastily, take one of Sir Humprey's Coaches, and hurry away with it.

Gripe.

Oh horror! oh infamous Strumpet! I am rob'd, cuckold'd, abus'd; oh vilainous quean, she is now in the filthy act of cuckolding me. Hell and Devils! give me my broad Sword.

Rich.

Good Sir, call upon no Devils; we shall be torn in pieces.

Gripe.

I care not what becomes of me; give me my broad Sword, I'l fetch a Warrant to search that Rogue Scattergood's house, apprehend the Strumpet, bring her home, and murder her; seize upon his Estate, sue him to Outlaries innumerable, indict him and all the Rogues for Riots, &c. give me my broad Sword. Come along with me:

Rich.

I dare not.

Gripe.

I'll cut you off in the middle if you do not; get you before, I'll lock the doors: Oh whore, whore, whore!

Enter Sir Chr. Swash, Heildebrand, and Blunderbus.

Sir Chr.

Hey Boys, bravely done! scowr on! break those Windows, 'tis Normandy Glass, scowr, scowr.

Heild.

Have at 'em.

Blund.

Fall on, fall on.

[They break Windows.

Sir Chr.

'Tis enough, march on; My Blunderbus and Heildebrand, we will over-run the Town, as easily as Alexander did Asia.

[A Citizen and his Wife walk by.

Heild.

A Prize! a Prize!

[Page]Blund.

Lay her aboard.

Citiz.

She's my Wife, Gentlemen, what would you have?

Sir Chr.

All kiss her—fall to, Boys.

Citiz.

Help, help! Watch, Watch!

Wife.

Murder, murder! help, help.

Sir Chr.

Ounds you Rogue d'ye call the Watch! Swinge him. There's for you Sirrah!

Blund.

Does she cry out? lay her on.

Citizen and Wife run out calling out help. Heild. strikes her.

Sir Chr.

'Gad we are very mad fellows, Are not we? my Bullies.

Heild.

Damme as e'r wore Swords. I take it.

Sir Chr.

More game, more game; have at 'em perverse Whores, a Pox on 'em, they are past squeaking in private, though they do it in publick.

Enter two or three Old Women.

Blund.

Who are these? Curse on 'em, they are old and ugly—

Heild.

Herb-women, going to Market.

Sir Chr.

Let 'em be what they will, I spare no Sex nor Age. Beldams, you must be kiss'd for being women, and kick'd for being ugly. The Devil take me if the Town can match us for tearing Blades now.

[They run out crying Murder.

Enter two or three Apprentices singing and breaking Windows.

Sir Chr.

Stand! who are these? Rascals without Swords, Apprentices? must such Rogues as you usurp the priviledge of Gentlemen? such Scoundrels as you scowr? lay 'em on thick. let's swinge 'em—

Apprentices.

Help, help! Watch, Watch! Murder.

[They run out.

Sir Chr.

Death! Shall such pitiful fellows think to do like us?

Enter three or four Fidlers.

Blund.

Who's here? stand.

Heild.

Stand Rogues: ha! they'r Fidlers.

Fidlers.

We are going to Play under a window for a Wedding.

Sir Chr.

We'll stop your Journey, Rascal; strike up, and play to us while we break windows.

Fidl.

Good Gentlemen! we shall lose our Wedding; there are other Companies out that will be there before us.

[Page]Sir Chr.

We will cut and hack you first, and then your Fiddles.

Fidler.

Hold, hold Gentlemen! we will Play—

[They play scurvily.

Sir Chr.

Now let's break Windows to this Musick. 'Tis good for nothing else. Pull down all the Knockers, and wipe out the Milk scores: will this Rogue my Footman never come with Lamb-black, and a Brush that we may blot out the signs.

Enter Citizen, with the Constable and Watch.

Citiz.

These are the Rogues that set upon me and my Wife.

Consta.

Rogues! Sir Christopher Swash, and his Friends; They use to give us Money every night Neighbours.

Watchmen.

Ay, ay, very honest Gentlemen.

Consta.

You are a sawcy fellow.

Sir Chr.

Oh, Mr. Constable, let me kiss you; There's half a piece for your Watch to drink.

Consta.

Thanks, noble Sir Christopher. Who are you Sir? I must have an account of you.

Watch.

Ay, what are you?

[To Citizen.

Citiz.

I am an honest Man, and pay Scot and Lot in my Parish, and these Fellows set upon my Wife and me.

Consta.

Stay Fidlers▪ whither are you sneaking?

Sir Chr.

This fellow is a Rogue, and pickt up a Whore, and call'd her his Wife.

Consta.

Away with him to the Gatehouse—

Citiz.

Very fine.—

[Two hale the Citizen away.

Sir Chr.

Now honest Constable we are well met. And I have Fiddles, 'G [...]d you shall Dance to 'em.

Const.

Any thing Master that you please.

Sir Chr.

When that's done, go into your Huts, drink Brandy like Dutch Skippers, and smoak like double Chimneys for the good and security of the Nation! while we scowr afresh.

Const.

Come fellows, strike up—

[Dance.

Sir Chr.

Very well—I vow.

Const.

Good morrow to your Worship.

Sir Chr.

Good morrow!

Const.

We are undon, yonder's the High Constable going the Rounds to Night! haste every one to his Post—

[Ex. Const. and Watch.

[Page]Enter Sir Nicholas Peakgoose.

Sir Chr.

Who's here, Sir Nicholas Peakgoose! i'faith thou shalt roar and sing, and break Windows—

Sir Nich.

Not for the world, Gentlemen; I am going to fetch my Celia from Sir Humphrey's house, if she find me in drink, she'll be outragious.

Sir Chr.

Gad you shall: hang sneaking after a Whore; Keep her under.

Sir Nich.

Pray Sir excuse me.

Sir Chr.

Gad do as I bid you, or fight.

Sir Nich.

Fight! oh Lord, fight! what would she say to me, if I should venture my self to fight?

Sir Chr.

Prithee don't stand prating, but roar and break Windows, or draw.

Sir Nich.

I am resolv'd, I'll not draw: What will you have me do? what will become of me?

Sir Chr.

Follow us—

[Sings.

Diseases and Troubles are ne'r to be found,

But in the damn'd place where the Glass goes not round.

Sing with a Pox to you.

Sir Nich.

Well, well—Diseases and Troubles, &c.

[Sings.

Enter H. Constable.

H. Const.

These are the Bullies that made the Havock last Night in Covent-Garden, and this Night hereabouts; fall on, knock 'em down.

Sir Chr.

How now! we must to Battle—

Constable and Watch fall on, Sir Nicholas running away is knock'd down and taken, the rest with broken Heads escape, and get to Sir Humphrey's House.

H. Const.

Come Sirrah! have we taken ye? we see where the others are gotten in.

Sir Nich.

Gentlemen, as I hope to be sav'd I was none of their Company; but they set upon me, and threatned to kill me if I went from 'em. I will be a witness against them.

Watch.

'Tis Sir Nicholas Peakgoose; a very civil Gentleman.

H. Const.

I know him! you will be forth coming in the Morning to witness against 'em—

[Page]Sir Nich.

I will.

H. Const.

Go! good night. Beset Sir Humphrey Scattergood's house, we'll have 'em and they be alive.

Sir Nich.

Good night Gentlemen: Oh my Head and Shoulders! a deuce take their scowring, for me—

[Exeunt Omnes.

Enter Steward.

SCENE Sir Humphrey's House.

Soft Musick plays.

Stew.

Heav'n how he melts his Time and Land away in Luxury and Sloath, and I by force must be an Instrument in his wickedness; now must I keep the Dore, while he, his Friends and Whores are lolling in their Baths, prepar'd with cost befitting Emperors; nay, They're perhaps revelling in the height of Sin—but I will pray and read these godly Meditations by my self—

[A Song is sung to 'em within.

Enter Sir Christopher, Blunderbus, and Heildebrand.

Sir Chr.

Hear you old formal Steward, where is your Master?

Stew.

Bless me, what ails you all? are your Brains beaten out?

Sir Chr.

No, we have had a Battle with the Myrmidons of St. Martins, we have swinged, and are swinged—

Blund.

I am sure my Porker is embrued in Blood.

Heild.

And mine is stain'd in gore of filthy Peasant.

Stew.

Bless us! Heav'n! Have you committed Murder?

Sir Chr.

Prithee leave prating, and open the door; we heard the Musick this way, thy Master's there.

Stew.

You must not pass; my Master and his Friends are all in Baths.

Sir Chr.

And where are the Women, the Cockatrices?

Stew.

The Cockatrices are bathing too.

Sir Chr.

What mine?

Stew.

Yes, yours.

Blund.

What a Pox, does he manage the Body of your Caravan?

Sir Chr.

Peace Oylie—his own Convenient's there, we will all run roaring in.

Stew.

You cannot pass; there is a Blunderbuss within charged with 15 Bullets, in the hands of a damn'd desperate Rogue.

Sir Chr.

Pox on't—I know my Buttock's honest; but I care not, for the Devil take me, I drink too much to be a man at Arms. Gad! I only keep her [...]or the lewdness of the matter.

[Page]Enter Sir Nicholas Peakgoose.

Blund.

Halloo—Here's Peakgoose. Now you shall drink—

Heild.

'Gad— [...]e have catch'd you; you shall drink like a Devil.

Sir Chr.

Ay 'gad shall you—and roar and have t'other Battel too, Boy—

[Sings.

The Stars which you see,

In the Hemisphear be

But the st [...]ds in your faces with Drinking, &c.

Sir Nich.

Good Gentlemen, Pardon me. I must go to my Dear. Where is Madam Chloris, Friend?

Stew.

You cannot come at her: the Ladies are in one Bathing Room, and the G [...]ntlemen in another just by 'em.

Blund.

Sir Humphrey will swinge your Buttock away—

Heild.

Yes, He or some of'em will manage your Natural gallantly.

Sir Nich.

Who! my Birds n'eyes. I am sure she would not do such a thing, as I may say, for the world.

Sir Chr.

Pish! Pox of Whores. Let's go drink 'em out of our heads. Where's the Yeoman of the Cellar?

Stew.

Why he, or his Servant is nev [...]r out on't! 'Twill come to a fine pass.

Sir Chr.

Come along to the Cellar.

Sir Nich.

Excuse me, I will not go—what to make a Beast of my self?

Sir Chr.

If you will not go, Draw! for 'foregod you shall fight.

Sir Nich.

What will become of me? with these roaring Fellows I must go.

Sir Chr.

The Sun's gone to Tipple all Night in the Sea Boys,

To morrow hee'l rise, and be paler than we Boys;

Give us Wine, give him Water, 'tis Sack makes us The Boys.

Enter Sir Humphrey, Bellamy, and Wildman, in morning Gowns.

Bell.

With what variety of pleasure you melt away your hours.

Wild.

There's need of Fancy and Invention for such Luxury.

Sir Humph.

It is beyond the sence of Fops; a Fool has not wit enough to be pleas'd, he but seems merry, when he's sad at heart. Is not this better than venturing life for Ambition, being perpetually anxious for a Blew-Ribbon, or a white-Staff, to have a crowd of Clients sneaking two hours in my Anti▪Chamber, who crouch like Slaves [Page] when I appear; yet hate and scorn me for my Pride the while?

Bell.

These are the irregular appetites of Men, whose Minds are Sick. The vigorous Body and the healthful mind can find no pleasure but in Sense.

Wild.

Fools are led away by shadows, and let the substance go; while the rash, giddy, and magnanimous Fool runs abroad, is delicately lousie, and kills men for Honour, who never anger'd him: We stay at home and get 'em.

Sir Humph.

Which I take it, is the more honourable employment of the Two. Another Fop breaks his Brains with Metaphysical Nonsence, a Mathematical Coxcomb besots himself with a, b, c, Superficies, Lines and Angles; our Virtuoso contemplates Lice in Microscopes; your Orator studies to show his parts in Whipt-Creamspeeches; your Schoolman wasts his time in Bulls and Nonsensical Distinctions to make the same thing differ from it self; and your politi [...]k. Owl drudges and makes a business of what is none—

Wild.

And all the while the Senses are neglected.

Sir Humph.

Your drudging Millhorse Block-head, is useful for Government, while we most wisely find out Pleasures for every Sense; we are Lords o'th' world, and enjoy all in it, while they are Slaves—

Bell.

Twas not our fault, we did not please every Sense even now. These pretty Whores are skittish.

Wild.

We could do nothing with 'em but put them to the squeak a little.

Sir Humph.

Some of these kept-Ladies, will no more treat you with Love, than Taverns will with Wine; 'tis against their Trade: But I have had 'em all for Money. I cannot, like the grand Signior, make a Wench come when I give my Handkerchief: But if I see a pretty Whore I like, I send her 50 l. and to that Lure she stoops, and strait I Truss her: if not, a 100 l. brings her down: my Money is less precious than my Time.

Bell.

Faith, you are in the right: I see what 'twill come to—for I have a damnable mind to that pretty Jade Celia.

Wild.

And I must have my Chloris, whatever becomes of me.

Enter Sir Nicholas Peakgoose.

Sir Nich.

Sir Humphrey! Your humble Servant.

Sir Humph.

Sir Nicholas Peakgoose! your Servant.

Sir Nich.

Where is my Mistress, poor Rogue?

Sir Humph.

Within, with her Companions.

[Page]Sir Nich.

I long to see her, pretty Rogue. I have not seen her these six hours, and yonder's Sir Christopher Swash—and his Hectorly Companions will kill me with drinking Bumpers, as they call 'em, if you protect me not; they draw and threaten to fight with me, if I do not drink; I have been knock'd down by the Watch, for being taken for one of his lewd Company already. Hide me—hide me.

Enter Sir Christopher, Blunderbus, and Heildebrand.

Sir Chr.

Where is this Scoundrel, that basely flies from a Bumper? Draw! I will have satisfaction. I will Tap him, and let out the Claret he has drank already.

Sir Humph.

Good Sir Christopher, spare his life for my sake.

Sir Chr.

For your sake he lives; but upon condition, he shall come down and drink lustily—

Sir Humph.

What makes you bloody?

Sir Chr.

We have had a Skirmish, faith. Would you had been with us, I never saw better scowring days of my life; but now we are here, let's all down and drink bloodily.

Blund.

There's no life to drinking, roaring, and lying rough.

Heild.

There's no pleasure in a single Drunkenness. But Sir Nicholas and we lead a life, we!

Sir Humph.

Let us borrow Sir Nicholas a quarter of an hour, till he sees his Mistress, and then we'll restore him—

Sir Chr.

D'ye hear Nick? Be sure you come, or by Heav'n I'll run you through the Lungs next time I meet you—

They go out Singing.]

March on bravely! forward let us go,

Tara ra rant tan tant, tan tan tan ta ra ra

rant tan tan! The Trumpets they do blow.

Sir Nich.

Oh Lord have have mercy upon me! what shall I do? I [...]ll swear the Peace against him, if I live and breath.

Enter Phillis, Celia, and Chloris.

Oh my Dear! Art thou there?

Celia.

Yes, you Fop; But what do you do here?

Sir Nich.

Prithee be not angry Miss. I come to wait on Thee home—

Celia.

I [...]ll not go—Go home by your self! go I say, go quickly—

Sir Nich.

Good, dear Madam, let me stay.

Celia.

I shall have people think you are jealous of me! How dare you come after me thus?

[Page]Sir Nich.

I jealous! I'd have 'em to know I scorn their words.

Celia.

Go home then! get you gone! Why do you stay, when I bid you go? Must you come sneaking after me? Do you think you are fit to be seen in good Company, because I am so?

Sir Nich.

I know I am not; but good, sweet Madam, let me stay here: I beg [...] it on my knees.

Phill.

Nay, nay, now you are too Cruel: let me intercede for him.

Sir Nich.

Ay!

Chlo.

Madam! Pray let me beg for him.

Sir Nich.

Look you there.

Cel.

He shall not stay. Ladies, you don't know what you do, If I shou'd suffer him, he'ld always be peaking after me—Go, I say, I will be obey'd—

Sir Nich.

I'll give thee all the Money I have about me, if thou'lt go home with me.

Celia.

Come, give it me.

Sir Nich.

There.

Celia.

Well, I will go home, but go you out and wait an hour, till I come.

Sir Nich.

Well, my Dear, what you will. Good, Sir Humphrey, let your Servants guard me from these Roarers.

Sir Humph.

Well, poor Rogue, I'll stay. Go! thou art a pretty one.

[Ex. Sir Nicholas.

Stew.

Sir, the fat Gentlewoman is come with three young Girls.

Phill.

There's a Collation waits you; will you come in to it, my Dearest?

Sir Humph.

Go! we will follow you—

[Ex. Phill. Cel. Chloris.

Now Gentlemen, a consultation: Here are Maiden-heads coming, we'll divide 'em equally. Steward, send her in, and convey her Attendants the back way into my Apartment. And let 'em be bath'd, new rigg'd with Linnen.

Stew.

It goes against my Conscience, and is below my Dignity.

Sir Humph.

Sirrah! Begon! obey me, or you have no Tips of Ears to Morrow—

[Exit Steward.

Enter Bawd.

Bawd.

Well, I have taken such pains for you, I am ready to expire—I had gotten my house full of handsom Wenches for your Worships use: But I thought the Maiden-heads I spoke of would be more fit, and I have brought 'em all three with much ado.

[Page]Sir Humph.

And will you warrant 'em Maids?

Bawd.

That I will upon my sincerity; did I ever deceive you? I have more Conscience than to be corrupt in my Calling, not for this Earth I would not—But these are dearer than I thought. They are 50 l. a piece, if you have 'em: I never higgle or make words with you.

Sir Humph.

Talk not of Price! it is my Birth-Night. Gentlemen, I'll treat you like a man of Honour. We'll cast Lots for 'em.

Bell.

You are too obliging.

[Enter Steward.

Stew.

I hae conducted the Gentlewomen—Whores in.

Sir Humph.

Prethee honest Bawd, go and bring all the Whores in at my back-gate. Do you hear, old Fool? see you entertain 'em well: and let every Stranger and Servant in my House have his Cher entirè. I'll not have a Man-servant idle, nor a Maid-servant honest: Chastity shall be Felony, and Sobriety High-Treason.

Bawd.

Well Sir, I'll fetch 'em all.

[Ex.

Stew.

Good Sir, will you whip me, hang me, or—

Sir Humph.

Peace, thou hypocritical old Sot; do you hear, be you Drunk soundly, and Whore lustily, or Wars will ensue between us—

Stew.

Whore! oh Lord! I whore? What will become of me?

Sir Humph.

Come on my Friends, Let's in and survey my Markettings—

Wild.

Lead on, my noble Prince of Pleasure; and we'll follow—

Stew.

To the Devil all! and thither I shall follow, unless I suddenly get loose from these clutches.

[Exit Steward.

Enter Sir Nicholas Peakgoose, Sir Christopher, Blunderbus, and Heildebrand.

Sir Chr.

Are you so nimble i'faith! we have catch't you agen!

Sir Nich.

You have made me drunk with these Bumpers. What will you murder me? have some pity on me, on my Knees I beg you'l let me drink no more; what will my Mrs. say?

Sir Chr.

You are in a good posture. Kneel all! Fill us t'other Bumper. 'Death! Drink it, I say. Drink it, or Blood will ensue—

Sir Nich.

What will become of poor Sir Nicholas?—

Sir Chr.

All together clash.

Sir Nich.

Well, I must do't.

Sir Chr.

T'other round.

Sir Nich.

Mercy upon me! I am dead! I am kill'd! I'll lay my death to your charge—no more to be said.

[He lets fall the glass, and breaks it.

[Page]Sir Chr.

Ah Rascal, Do you spill your Drink! 'Ownds! fling the rest of the Bumpers in's face.

Sir Nich.

Murder! Help,—help. I am slain.

They fling all the glasses in's face.

Without.

Open the Dore! we'll break it open—

[A great noise without.

Sir Chr.

What's the matter? Now draw the Fool away; he's dead drunk.

[A noise again.

Enter Sir Humph. Bell. and Wildman.

Sir Humph.

How now! What's the m [...]tter without?

Enter a Servant.

Serv.

Sir! The High Constable with a huge Guard, and Mr. Gripe in the head of 'em is come with a Warrant to search the house.—

Sir Humph.

Call up my Servants! fetch my Guns.

Sir Chr.

Hey Boys! we shall have more scowring!

Blund.

Now we shall show our vàlour.

Enter Servants with Guns and Pistols.

H. Constable and Watch break in. Gripe and Richard.

Sir Humph.

What means this violence?

H. Const.

We have a Warrant to search for Mrs. Gripe.—

Sir Humph.

Fall on! fall on. We are victorious, and have taken Prisoners.

They fall on, beat the Constable and Watch out, return with Gripe, and Richard Prisoners.

Gripe.

What will become of us! we shall be Murder'd.

Sir Humph.

Lock 'em up, Safe! and guard my house with Guns and Musquets! unseasonable Rascals to interrupt our pleasure.

Blund.

Shall we plunder, strip, and take the spoil of the Field?

Sir Humph.

No▪ we'll call 'em to a Council of War, and condemn 'em; away with 'em.

[They carry Gripe and Richard away.

Gripe.

O mercy, mercy!

Sir Humph.

What is Sir Nicholas kill'd in the fray?

Sir Chr.

No—in our fray; Dead drunk. This was a brave Battle!

Sir Humph.

Now all to bed: Carry Sir Nicholas to bed.

Sir Chr.

Not we! we'll go drink and lie rough! fare you well upon those terms. Come Bullies, I think we have behav'd our selves like Emperours!

[Page]Enter Mrs. Gripe like a [...]oung Officer, and her Brother's Serjeant.

Mrs. Gripe.

Am I compleatly set out like a young Officer? Do my Brother's Accoutrements sit well upon me?

Serj.

They become you admirably; you are as brisk, as fierce an Officer as the best of 'em; and so like your Brother, 'tis amazing, had not I been privy to your Design and his, I should have sworn you were my Captain.

Mrs. Gripe.

That likeness between us will further my design. My Husband knows nothing of my Brother, but that he has heard we are so like, that upon an Experiment I drest my self in man's clothes once, and we were not known from one another. But do I strut, cock, and look fierce enough?

Serj.

To a Miracle! But since you have this design upon your Husband to fright and make him yield to good terms, why would you not let your Brother carry it on?

Mrs. Gripe.

He resents so much the base usage of me, that I know not what his passion might have provok'd him to: Besides, it seems to be the right of an English Woman to Hector her own Husband; and faith, I'll have him under my Command now, or press him for Flanders.

Serj.

Bravely resolv'd.

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll teach Húsbands to provoke their own Flesh.

Serj.

That is out of his power or yours to do to him—

[Aside.

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll make him such an example. I'll make all Husbands have a care, how by Injuries they sower their Wive's love into revenge, or their meekness into rage. I know he's a Coward, as all Tyrants are; and I'll make him e're I have done, as dearly as he loves his Money, part with a good Sum for fear of his lif [...]—

Serj.

Methinks they that live so miserably, shou'd not fear to dye—

Mrs. Gripe.

Oh yes! They are such [...]ools to choose the worst part of life, and are yet greater Fools, and prefer it to Death, which is far better: to be dead, is to be insensible; but to have senses and deny 'em all, is worse. Do you find him out, and get him to a private place, and let me alone.

Serj.

I will, Madam! 'Sheart I shall forget to call you Captain.

Mrs. Gripe.

Well, I shall strut, look big, and huff enough for a Captain, I warrant you▪ by your leave Modesty for a while. A desperate ill, must have a desperate cure: But these words of Command stick in my Throat, and I cannot swear worth a farthing.

[Page]Serj.

Oh use, use! 'tis nothing but use—

Mrs. Gripe.

But why must we use French Discipline? we did not so when Henry the Fifth beat 'em.

Serj.

Why, by plaguing the world this Ten years, they have found a better way than we have.

Mrs. Gripe.

Well, I'll try! Let me con—Even your Ranks. Straiten your Files. Shoulder all. Rest your Arms. To the right, to the right, to the right. To the left, to the left, to the left. Dam'me what awkard Rogue is this?

[She canes the Serjeant.

Serj.

O brave Captain! well done! But 'twas a little o'th hardest.

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll warrant you—I'll lay it on—let me alone for Discipline—allòns.

[Exeunt.

The End of the Third Act.

ACT. IV.

Enter Sir Nicholas Peakgoose Drunk at play, with Blunderbus and Heildebrand.

Sir Nich.

PRay Gentlemen, let me give over play. You have gotten my Gold Watch, and Diamond Ring, and 20 l. upon Tick.

Blund.

Nay, 'gad you shall play t'other 20 l.

Sir Nich.

Lord! what would you have of a man? I cann't abide play: I hate it mortally, so I do.

Heild.

What a Pox! you don't take us for Cheats, do you?

Sir Nich.

Who I? Not I Gentlemen, for the world! yet I doubt they are little better!

[Aside.

Blund.

Dam'me! 'Tis not your best course.

Heild.

You shall find us Gentlemen: That scorn to do or suffer an ill Thing. Therefore play on.

Sir Nich.

Heav'n deliver me from these dreadful Bullies: They will get all my Money, or quarrel with me.

Blund.

What a Devil do you mean? will you play, or no?

Sir Nich.

Pray Gentlemen don't be angry, I will then double, or quit. I'll set you the 20 l. because I will make an end, Mr. Heildebrand; but I vow and swear, I'll play no more after that.

Heild.

Are you sure the Doctors are in, Blunderbus?

[Page]Blund.

Yes, I am sure! at it Man!

Heild.

Come then! here'sat it, [...]7.

Sir Nich.

12! 'tis out! quit.

Heild.

I Nickt you! ask Blunderbus.

Sir Nich.

Nay, then I'll never play more▪ 12▪ Nick 7. Do what you will with me, I'll not throw a Die more. What a Pox▪ Do you think I am a Fool?

Blund.

If you do this Heildebrand, you will lose him for ever; a Plague of ill luck—

Heild.

Was it 12?

Sir Nich.

Ay marry was it! ask Mr. Blunderbus else.

Blund.

Yes it was: Sir Nicholas is in the right, look you ther [...] now.

Sir Nich.

Look you there now.

Heild.

No more to be said.

Sir Nich.

Well, Good morrow, Gentleme [...], your humble Servant. Now we are quit I'll play no more really.

[Running off is stopt.

Blund.

Nay, you shall not go▪ the Devil take me if you don't play one 20 l. more.

Heild.

Never speak on't, you shall play for one 20 l. more, if you were my Father. Zounds! you don't take us for Snaps, do you?

Sir Nich.

I will not play, I will not! I will not! what will you do with me? Help, help.

[They hale him, [...]e struggles.

Enter Mrs. Gripe and Serjeant.

Heild.

Run Blunderbus, we shall lose our Bubble.

[Sir Nich. runs o [...]t they after him.

Mrs. Gripe.

I see already that this is a fine civil well-govern'd Family. You must guard me.

Serj.

I warrant you, Captain. Where are the Serv [...]ts? they have been all drunk, and roaring all night, and I believe are all asleep.

Enter Steward.

Oh! here's one.

Mrs. Gripe.

I must needs speak with Sir H [...] Sc [...]ttergood. Pray let him know I wait for him. My Business is earnest.

Stew.

I shall Sir—

[Exit Steward.

Mrs. Gripe.

You are sure my Husband is here?

Serj.

Yes, one of the Wat [...]h told me, That when they were beaten Sir Humphrey took him Prisoner.

[Page]

Enter Sir Humphrey.

This is Sir Humphrey.

Mrs. Gripe▪

Sir, your most humbl [...] S [...]rvant. I hope you will excuse this Disturbanc [...], when you s [...]all know my Busmess.

Sir Humph.

A Gentleman's Commands can never disturb me.

Mrs. Gripe.

Sir, I am Brother to the unfortunate Mrs. Gripe, the Wife of a wretche [...] Usure [...]; who, I am inform'd is in your House.

Sir Humph.

He is Sir, but I should have taken you for her, Her self in man's habit.

Serj.

A Woman! He has been my Captain abroad these four years; if you had seen what brave Actions he has perform'd in the midst of fire and smoak, you would not have taken him for a Woman.

Mrs. Gripe.

I should not wonder much at your mistake; for just before I went out of England, she was dress▪d in man's habit; and we were so like, we could not be known asunder.

Sir Humph.

Indeed I have heard there was a s [...]range likeness betwixt you; the very Look and Voice! hah!

Mrs. Gripe.

But Sir, if I be inform'd right, you cannot mistake; for she is in your House.

Sir Humph.

She is not, upon my Honour. This is most amazing. I [...]ever saw such likeness—They speak so like too—

Mrs. Gripe.

If he be here, I beg you will deliver him over to me to used as he deserves; for the Barbarity he has practis'd on my Sister.

Sir Humph.

With all my heart Sir! use him at your discretion. My house is free for you, and do you hear, Steward, Bid all my Servants be at the Captain's Command—I should almost have sworn it had been s [...]e.

Mrs. Gripe.

I give you many thanks for this favour, and should be glad to serve you with my Sword.

Sir Humph.

You honour me, Sir▪ Fetch down Gripe and his Man: Sir, I will go in and dress me, and then wait on you; and I beg you will make use of my house, and accept of what ever it affords for your Entertainment.

[Ex. Sir Humph.

Mrs. Gripe.

You are very generous a [...]d obliging. So, thus far I have ac [...]ed [...] [...] well [...] ▪

Enter O▪ Gripe and Richard.

S [...]rj▪

Oh, here are the R [...]scals, Captain.

Mrs. Gripe.

Which is Gripe?

S [...]rj.

That old Fellow!

[Page]Gripe.

Look Ri [...]hard, was ever any one so like my [...] Wife? Oh Lord, it is her Brother sure, by the description I have [...]eard.

Mrs. Gripe.

Is your name Gripe?

Gripe.

Her very Voice too, Richard.

Mrs. Gripe.

Speak, you Rascal, are you that damn'd fellow Gripe, that Married my Sister—my name is Bevil.

Gripe.

I did M [...]rry one Bevil, and if I did not see you in this Accoutrement, I should take you for her.

Mrs. Gripe.

Her! had you done me one such Injury as she has suffer▪d Thousands from you, I would have cut your Throat long since: But you know, old villainous Murderer, I am not she: I have been at her house, she's missing, and I doubt not but you have kill'd her; for she is no where to be found, and I am resolv'd to have your Blood for't.

Gripe.

Ha! hum—It must be he! I murder her! Heav▪n fo [...]bid! she is run away from me, and I believe she is in the house playing the Whore here with Sir Humphrey.

Mrs. Gripe.

Villain! Thou ly'st—

[She strikes him.

I know her vertue; all thy damn'd Generation put together, have not half her Honesty.

Gripe.

What will become of me! I tremble all over. ▪Tis he, I heard his Drums beat up yesterday.

Mrs. Gripe.

I see your Conscience strikes you! had she not been murder'd, she would have come to some of her Relations. Prepare, old Viper▪ and pray; for thou hast not a quarter of an hour to live▪ upon my Honour.

Rich.

Good Sir—Let me go! if she be kill'd, Heav'n knows I had no hand in her Murder.

Mrs. Gripe.

Sirrah▪ stay, or I'll knock your Brains out.

Rich.

I see it is her Brother; she had a great respect for me, and would not have used me so. ▪Tis he by his hard blows.

Mrs. Gripe.

Kneel and Pray, or by Heav'n I'll kill you before you prepare—

Gripe.

I cannot Pray, I cannot prepare—what have I done?

Mrs. Gripe.

I have lost a Sister▪ and if she be not murder'd, she has been so abusd by you, that nothing but your life shall satisfie, and I shall do my Countrey good Service in ridding it of such a Monster.

Rich.

Take your course—if he were dead, I sho [...]ld eat [...]gain.

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll stay no longer—have at you—

[O [...]ers at him.

Gripe.

Hold, hold! sweet Sir! good Brother Captain! d [...] but adjourn the Execution till I go home and settle my affairs, and I'll wait on you again.

[Page]Mrs. Gripe.

No Villain, thou shalt die now, at ye—

Gripe.

O Heav'n▪ I cannot endure it. I cannot pray, do not murder my Soul. I confess I have been a great Sinner: I have wrong'd many young Orphans, and Comfortless Widows—

Rich.

And starved your Servants—

Gripe.

Besides, upon the words of a dying man, your Sister run away from me. I lockt her up indeed to save the Honour of your Family; for she is a most salacious Woman—

Mrs. Gripe.

He angers me to the quick with that—Thou ly' [...]t old Dotard, Thou dy'st for that—

Gripe.

Oh hold! hold! Let me but live to repent awhile; I do confess I have wrong'd her—

Serj.

Hold Sir! Spare his life—

Gripe.

Thank you, good Sir—

Mrs. Gripe.

Dissuade me not!

Grip [...].

Hold! hold! here's my Man can tell you she ran away from me.

Rich.

Indeed Captain she did go away, as she had reason; and I help'd her to escape.

Mrs. Gripe.

Are you such a Rascal to lye for him? No, he dies.

Serj.

Hear me, good Captain, your Recruits are not yet full: He seems to be a lusty old Fellow, and can carry Arms yet.

Mrs. Gripe.

Say you so?

Gripe.

What a Devil does he say, Arms? that's as bad!

Mrs. Gripe.

If you think so—take him to your Custody. When he is in Flanders, if I hear not of my Sister in a reasonable time I'll kill him. In the mean while I'll put him into the Van on all occa [...]ions—

Gripe.

Sir, Sir! why Captain, Noble Captain, I am a most hideous Coward, I shall run away, and spoil all your Men.

Mrs. Gripe.

If you do, I will hang you. No resisting, here take a Shilling.

Grip [...].

I must confess I have a great respect for a Shilling, and never could refuse one in my life▪

Mrs. Gripe.

Enroll his name, and put his Coat on.

Gripe.

Now I hope you'l let me go upon Parol to furnish my self with Necessaries—

Serj.

No: We'll furnish you with them—

Mrs. Gripe.

Now Sirrah, you are listed; if you run from your Colours, I can hang you by Law—

Gripe.

Heav'n! what am I condemned to?

[Page]Serj.

Here put on your Coat.

Mrs. Gripe.

Kill him if he resist—

Gripe.

There is Law, and I have Friends—

Mrs Gripe.

You lye Sirrah, you have no Friends; and for Law, I'll make you know that Inter arma silent Leges. Put his Man a Coat on, and List him. There's a Shilling—

Rich.

What shall I do—I am a vile Coward! I am as much afraid of Guns, as Indians or Wild-Beasts are—

Serj.

Come sirrah, put it on—What's your Name?

Rich.

My Name is Richard [...]rubb—

Mrs. Gripe.

Carry them into the Court, and teach 'em the use of their Arms: But d'ye hear Serjeant, be not [...] of my whistle—

Serj.

Come! Hon [...]st Comrade Gripe, give me thy hand.

Gripe.

Pox on your Comradeship; I desire no such base Company: Did ever I think to be Comrade to such a fellow?

Rich.

Now must I learn to lye rough, filch Linnen, steal Poultry, lye with a Sutler's Wife, and be Lousie. Now Master give me your hand, we are Comrades too—

Gripe.

Rogue! I shall live to remember you. What shall I do? All my Writings will be embezz' [...]ed, I shall be utterly ruin'd, my Mortgages lost, my Money conceal'd—

Rich.

Fear not, Sir, you'll live better with 8 d. a day, than ever you did. I make no doubt but you will save Money at the years end to put out to use—For my part, I am glad that I shall wear Cloaths, and eat.

[Exit Mrs. Gripe.

Gripe.

Now [...], your Captain is gone in; honest Comrade, 'tis in your power to oblige your self and me very much: I▪ll▪give you Ten Shillings, and your own agen, if you will let me escape.

Serj.

How the Rogue values his Liberty.

[A [...]ide.

No, good Sir, get you out. I'll borrow two of Sir Humphrey's Musquets, and Exercise you—

Gripe.

I'll give, a 11.

Serj.

No,—go out, I say.

Gripe.

Good Comrade—I'll give you 12.

Serj.

Get you out—

Gripe.

Hold—13.

Serj.

No—I'll not be cashier'd for you—

Gripe.

Cashier me; I'll give 14.

Serj.

No—I tell you—

Gripe.

15.

Serj.

No.

[Page]Gripe.

16.

Serj.

Out I s [...]y—

Gripe.

17.

Serj.

Out, or I▪ll send you out.

Gripe.

18.

Serj.

Go.

Gripe.

19.

Serj.

I'll knock you down.

Gripe.

20. Have you no mercy in you?

Serj.

The Rogue bids for his Liberty, as if it were a stock at 12 d. Gleek.

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir Humphrey, Mrs. Gripe, Bellamy, [...]nd Wildman.

Bell.

Was there ever such likeness between two, as betwixt this Captain and his Sister▪

Wild.

It is Prodigious—I never heard her speak but once, and methinks their Voices have some likeness.

Bell.

They have so—This is a very Effeminate man to look at, yet they report him to be a brave Fellow.

Mrs. Gripe.

You oblige me beyond return.

Sir Humph.

I have often heard of your worth, and think my self happy in this opportunit [...] of knowing you—My house is a house of freedom, Command it. If you have a mind to a fresh hansom Wench, as that's no g [...]eat question to a young Officer, you shall have her—

Enter Phillis▪ Celia, and Chlo [...] ▪

Mrs. Gripe.

To us that have been in the Camp, That's no ill Propo [...]al; and faith Gentlemen, you shall find me a Man at Arms in all points—

Sir Humph.

In the mean time here is my Mistress, I bar her—But the other two, if you can win 'em, do—

Mrs. Gripe.

And faith I ll try 'em. I am resolved to carry on this frolick as far as 'twill go.

[Aside.

Sir Humph.

This is the Captain that's so like his Sister

[They salut [...].

Phill.

Ther [...] is a strange resemblan [...] betwixt 'em—

Chlo.

I never saw one so like another days o' my breath.

Celia.

He is a mighty pretty Man.

Chlo.

A fine Gentleman as e're I saw—

Celia.

He is a very sweet Person indeed.

[Page] [...]ell.

Ha! I'like not th [...]se proceedings. This Beardless Officer will be too hard for us.

Wild.

Oh these Wenches love a fellow with a Scarf, or an Ar [...]e Belt mightily.

Phill.

My Dear, I have a Lawyer and Writings ready for that Settlement thou wert pleas'd to promis [...] me, if thou wilt dispatch it now, [...]ot that I desire it; but in case of Mortality: for while thou livest I desire nothing but thee, and when thou art dead twill do, me little good—for I shall scarce out-live thee. So I am very indiffèrent, do▪ what thou wilt.

Sir Humph.

No—come my Dear, I'll dispatch it now. Sir your pardon for a moment.

[Exit Sir H [...]mph. and Phillis.

Bell.

Prithee▪ let's withdraw and observe 'em a little.

Wild.

Sir, He'll wait on you suddenly, in the mean time we leave the Ladies with you—

[Ex.

Mr [...]. Gripe.

Your Servant: These I humbly conceive are Whores, or they wou'd not be here; how the Devil shall I talk to 'em both?

Chlo.

Well—he's the prettiest Man that e're was b [...]rn—

Celia.

You cannot have been long a Souldier, you are so young and smooth-fac'd—

Mrs. Gripe.

I have no youth,—but what's at the Ladie's Service—

Chlo.

Pray what manner of Ladies have you beyond Sea?

Mrs. Gripe.

Not half so pretty as the E [...]glish Ladies.

Chlo.

How do they make love there?

Mrs. Gripe.

Faith Madam thus—we fall o' board as fast as we can, thus, and thus—

[Kisses 'em.]

and thus and thus—

Celia.

Hold, hold Sir, you are very brisk.

Chlo.

Well—he is a pretty good natur'd thing, I warrant him—

Celia.

Have you been in many Battels? I see you are a valiant Man.

Mrs. Grip [...].

Ye [...], many—I have been used to Fire, Smoak, and Cannon; Yells of Matrons, and groans of dying men, and cannot Boggle at a Lady; as for example—

[Kisses 'em again.

Chlo.

He is a gallant Officer, no doubt—

Celi [...].

You are a rare man▪ you think to storm a Lady, and carry her by Fire and Sword.

Mrs. Gripe to Celia.

My time is but [...]ort, and I wish I were rid of her, that I might tell you how much I am taken with you; and if you would not believe my words, to show it by my actions—

Celia.

You flatter me. I am infinitely pleas'd with this Captain.

Chlo.

Captain, one word with you—

Mrs. Gripe.

Dear pretty Creature—how you transport me; [Page] if yon Lady [...] absent. I have such a passion to disclose to you.

Chlo.

A most admirable man—Sir, I should be loath to be esteem'd ungrateful.

Wild.

What a condition we are in! S'heart—They'l ravish him.

Bell.

These Wenches are stark mad after smooth-faced fighting fellows, let 'em be never such Puppies.

Mrs. Gripe.

Dear pretty Rogue, y'are the sweetest Creature I ever saw, and she is disagreeable—oh that I had thee alone.

Celia.

You Compliment me, he's a fine bred man; what a mein he has?

Chlo.

By your leave. Sweet Captain, I believe you met with little resistance from the Ladies in Flanders.

Mrs. Gripe.

I should be overjoy'd to meet none from thee, My dear pretty one, would yon Creature were away. I do not like her at all—I have that to tell you—

Chlo.

Are we not uncivil, both us to leave Madam Phillis— [...] you will go to her, I'll come presently.

Celia.

I am not to be taught Civility from you, good Madam, go you—

Chlo.

Nor am I to be taught by you, and you go to th [...]t.

Bell.

Very fine, they'l fight for him by and by.

Celia.

But Captain.

Chlo.

I'll tell you Captain.

Celia.

'Ti [...] not good breeding, Madam, to interrupt one in speaking.

Chlo.

Tell me of breeding. There has been some difference in our breeding.

Celia.

That there has to my advantage: 'Slife your breeding.

Wild.

We are like to have very constant Mistresses, if we get 'em.

Mrs. Gripe.

So—I am a very pretty fellow: I have got the hearts of both of 'em, and now I am afraid I shall find it hard to get rid of 'em.

Celia.

I wonder at your Impertinence.

Chlo.

My Impertinence: You are a confident Creature.

Celia.

Thou art below my anger.

Chlo.

Am I so? well—I know what you are▪

Celia.

Why! what am I Mrs. Minx?

Mrs. Gripe.

N [...]y, good Ladies hold. Let this go no farther; for as I am an Officer, I am bound to secure you, faith—

Chlo.

At your Command, good Captain—I shall desist—

Celia.

If it were not for your presence, sweet Captain, I should say more—

[Page]Bell.

'Tis time to appear. This young

[Bell. and Wild. appear.

fellow will have 'em both else.

Wild.

What at Wars, Lady? You are a happy Man, C [...]ptain.

Bell.

And a brisk one at Women, I see that.

Mrs. Gripe.

So, so: We [...]hat come from the Camp are pretty well set, and are seldom over-bashful—

Bell.

I see, Madam, you can be gracious to the Captain, though you are cruel to me.

Celia.

What because I shew a little outward Civility. Though really, he is the prettiest Gentleman I ever saw. But Captain, as we were saying—

Bell.

Very fine.

Wild.

I see you are most infinitely taken with the Captain: But I cannot get a good look of you—

Chlo.

Lord! that you should say so: Would not you have one wellbred to a stranger? But Captain, you were saying something to me even now—

Bell.

This is excellent—I see we must rout the Captain, or lose the Wenches.

Wild.

Pox on all these whiffling young Officers! all the Whor [...] run mad after 'em; and a good [...]ubstantial solid Whoremaster cannot keep one in quiet for 'em▪

Enter Sir Humphrey.

Sir Humph.

Captain, your humble Servant—There's a Collation, and some Bottles w [...]iting for you, and my Friends, and I beg your Company—

Mrs. Gripe.

I will but see how my two new Souldiers are dispos'd of, and I'll wait on you. Do not stay for me, I beseech you—

Sir Humph.

Ladies! do you retire; there will be Drinking.

Chlo.

Your Servant, sweet Captain.

Celia.

Your humble Servant, good Captain—

[Ex. all but Mrs. Gripe.

Mrs. Gripe.

What shall I do amongst 'em; I cannot drink: yet I have a great Curiosity to see what it is that charm [...] men to s [...]t up whole Nights at eating Houses and Taverns.

Enter Phillis with a Note.

Phill.

Sweet Captain, I have no time to stay, nor dare I be seen [Page] alone with you; but That will tell you something, which I might blush to speak—Farewell—

[Ex. Phillis.

Mrs. Gripe.

Most excellent Women! what's this, another Conquest? hah—

[Reads.

Th [...]t I was extreamly surpriz'd at the sight of you, This Paper will sufficiently prove; for could I have resisted your Charms, you had never seen it: But now I am afraid you have the pow'r to make me entirely Yours, Phillis.

What a F [...]rce will this be when I am discov [...]r'd? Poor Wenches, how miserably I shall disappoint 'em—

[Exit.

Enter Sir Humphrey, Bellamy, Wildman, Sir Christopher, Blunderbus, and Heildebrand. A Banquet. Table and Wine.

Sir Humph.

Come on, Sir Christopher! are you ready for a Bottle?

Sir Chr.

Ready! I warrant you! I have lain rough and recruited. I need less baiting for the Journey than a Carrier's Horse. Give me a Glass in my right hand.

Sir Humph.

Sit all—

[All sit down.

Sir Chr.

Come faith, let's be all very merry, and roar extremely.

Enter Mrs. Gripe, and Se [...]geant.

Sir Humph.

Take your course; Captain, your most humble Servant. Sir Christopher, this is the Captain you heard of.

Sir Chr.

I honour him, and here's his Health in a Bumper—

Mrs. Gripe.

Sir Humphrey, I must desire my Liberty. Wine doe [...] not agree with me, I never drink hard.

Sir Humph.

Every Gentleman is free in my Hous [...].

Sir Chr.

Hey! we shall have fine work inde [...]d. What a Devil, a Captain, and cannot Drink? Can you Whore?

Mrs. Gripe.

So, so—well enough for a young Beginner.

Sir Chr.

No [...] Drink! 'Sheart! a man is not fit for a Captain that cannot Drink. Shall I ask you a question?

Mrs. Grip [...].

Yes.

Sir Chr.

Can you Fight?

Sir Humph.

Hold, good Sir Christopher, no Bullying here—

Mrs. Gripe.

You had best try, if you dare: Death! what a question was that! What Scou [...]drel art thou that askest such a question? This Company preserves thy life.

Sir Chr.

I have done, I have do [...]: [...], H [...]! he's damn'd stout, I believe.

[Page]Mrs. Gripe.

I could tell Thee Actions I have been in, would freeze thy blood to hear of! Fight—quoth a! Can'st thou fight up to the knees in blood? and at Midnight with no light [...]ut what Guns make, with Shot like hail about thy ears, clamber over mountains of dead Bodies, and fight thy way to a General's Tent, and bring the General Prisoner through all his Mir [...]idons? hah—

Sir Chr.

Sir, I beg your Pardon, I believe it. He's a plaguy stout fellow.

Mrs. Gripe.

'Tis not your best way to question it. Can you lead your Souldiers up to a wall, and scale it, when Bullets, melted Pitch and Sulphur rain upon you? Fight! the man ne'r lived that ask'd me yet that question!

Sir Chr.

'Sheart, hee'l cut my Throat—Sir, I beg your Pardon, I say—

Sir Humph.

Come Captain, 'Tis enough: fall on upon this Collation, and we'll have a Ch [...]son à boirè to compose the matter.

Mrs. Gripe.

With all my heart.

Sir Humph.

Some Musick! Sing me a Song—

A Drinking SONG.

LEt the daring Adven [...]rers be toss'd on the Main,

And for Riches no dangers decline;

Though with hazard the spoils of both Indies they gain,

They [...] bring us no Treasure like Wine.

Enough of such Wealth would a Beggar enrich,

And supply greater wants in a King;

'Twould sooth all the Griefs in a comfortless Wretc [...],

And inspire we [...]ping Captives to Sing.

There is none that groans under a burdensom life,

If this soveraign Balsom he gains▪

This will make a man bear all the Plag [...]s of a Wife,

And of Raggs, and Diseases in Chains.

It swells all our Veins with a kind purple flood,

And puts Love and great Thoughts in the mind:

There's no Peasant so rank, but it fills with good blood,

And to gallantry makes hi [...] inclin'd.

[Page]There's nothing our Hearts with such Joy can bewitch,

For on Earth 'tis a Pow'r that▪s Divine;

Without it, we're wretched tho' never so Rich,

Nor is any man Poor tha [...] has Wine.

Sir Chr.

Pox! This is a pretty Musical business; but this will not make a man merry—I'll sing you a Song: Fill the Glasses first. Come on. When I sing Down, down, Then you must all drink—

SONG.

I Love some body, I love no body,

Some body, no body dearly:

I love some body, &c.

Be she black, or be she brown,

She's the best in all the Town,

So she keep her Belly down.

Down, down, down down:

There's no fault to be found,

So she keep her Belly down.

Hah! I think this is well, hah!

Mrs. Gripe.

A very merry fellow—Give me thy hand.

Sir Chr.

I am your most humble Servant to comman [...]—I love a brave fellow with my heart.

Mrs. Gripe.

Come on, I have provided some Entertainment instead of a Dance—you shall see my two new Souldiers Exercis'd—fetch'em in Serjeant—

[Exit Serj.

Sir Humph.

You have found out an admirable way to plague an old cowardly Usurer, to make a Souldier of him—

Mrs. Gripe.

I warrant I shall plague him e're I have done with him.

Wild.

This is an excellent Trick found out for 'em.

Enter Serjeant with Gripe and Richard.

G [...]ipe.

Well, There's Law, Sir—yet—I say.

Mrs. Gripe.

'Sheart, does he talk of Law agen? Knock him o'th'head.

Gripe.

Hold, hold, I say no more—

Mrs. Gripe.

Next Tide he takes Boat, and away for Flanders.

Sir Chr.

Oh! honest Gripe! Art thou turn'd Souldier? Thou art a good hopeful Musketeer of thy age.

[Page]Blund.

A very pretty old Fellow, and stands lustily under a Musket.

Heild.

A brave old Souldier, i'faith! Can'st thou stare a Cann [...]n in the face?

Gripe.

What's that to you, you Coxcombs—Well, I shall out-live this, Rogues; and all this may turn to my profit in the end.

Mrs. Gripe.

Order your Arms—

[They Poise their Muskets.

Did you ever see such dull Rascals? order your arms thus, set 'em down—Take that to make you remember another time

[She canes 'em.

Gripe.

I must suff [...]r! there's no re [...]edy.

Mrs. Gripe.

Poise your Muskets.

Rich.

What a Devil must we do now?

Mrs. Gripe.

Poise your Muskets thus, you Rascals—Pox on you for dull Rogues.

[Strikes 'em agen.

Gripe.

Well, so we do: What a Devil wou'd you have?

Mrs. Gripe.

What with both hands?

Serj.

In one hand, thus.

Ric [...].

Well, thus then?

Mrs. Gripe.

Shoulder.

[They put'em on t [...]e wrong shoulder.

S [...]rj.

That's the wrong shoulder—

Mrs. Gripe.

On the other shoulder! ye Blockheads, you have less sence than Statues—

Gripe.

Ay—I am so dull, you had better let me go—

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll make you do it—Shoulder, I say. March.

Gripe.

I thank you Sir,—with all my heart—that—we will march—

They lay their Muskets down, and offer to go out.

Rich.

We'll march well enough, I warrant you.

Mrs. Gripe.

Is that your marching? Take up your Arms, Rogues, I'll run you through else—take 'em up I say—

[She canes 'em.

Gripe.

Well—well—what a Devil would you have? Did you not bid us march?

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll make you march against the mouth of a Cannon, before I have done.

Gripe.

O damn'd T [...]rant, I must try to compound with him.

Sir Humph.

This is admirable Discipline indeed, Captain.

Enter Steward.

Stew.

Sir Christopher, Mr. Bl [...]nderbus and Heildebrand, take car [...], and shift for your selves. There are Threescore Bailiffs waiting for you in the Street, and they have beset the House round, that there is no possibility of escaping—

[Page]Sir Chr.

O Heav'n! what shall I do? if I be once carried to Goal, I shall lye and rot there. Hold, let me see—

Blund.

We shall starve if we go to Prison—

Heild.

Let us think of some way, They are too many for us to beat.

Sir Chr.

Captain, if you would but do us the favour to send for three Red Coats, and own us to be your Souldiers, we may escape.

Blund.

A rare way.

Heild.

An excellent way; good Captain favour us.

Mrs. Gripe.

My Footmen have a Bundle of red Coats here; but I cannot in Honour pass you for my Souldiers, unless you be so—if you will take each a Shilling of me and be listed, you may▪ otherwise I can do you no good.

Sir Chr.

With all our hearts.

Blund.

With all our hearts.

Heild.

With all our hearts.

Mrs. Gripe.

There's 12 d. a peice, Serje [...]nt take their Names—I shall order them too—I'll teach 'em to roar and bully up and down the Town. Get their Coats and Bandeleers on.

Rich.

Come on Comrades, fellow Souldiers, give me your hands all—The more the merrier▪

Sir Chr.

How now saucy Rogue—Do you long very much for a broken—head—

Sir Humph.

You may command all my House, and I beg of you to make it your own while you stay in England.

Mrs. Gripe.

I give you humble thanks.

Sir Chr.

So—how do these Accoutrements become us?

Bell.

Oh rarely—you are the feirce [...]t Souldiers I have seen▪

Sir Chr.

Now, noble Captain, we'll march under your Command.

Gripe.

A Souldier must I be? Here's company for the Devil.

Mrs. Gripe.

Come! we'll go into the Court-yard▪ There I'll exercise ye, and send for the Head-Bailiff, and let him know ye are my Souldiers.

Sir Chr.

Very well, I vow, that will do rarely—

Sir Humph.

Come Gentlemen, in the mean time, we'll to the Women; your Servant, Captain.

Mrs. Gripe.

Your Servant▪ Was ever design so well begun, and so hopefully carried on? They all take me for my Twin▪Brother.

Serj.

I that know you both, don't wonder at it.

Mrs. Gripe.

Come Souldiers March—March, I say—

[Ex. Omnes.

The End of the Fourth Act.

ACT. V.

[Page]

Enter Sir Humphrey, Bellamy, Wildman.

Bell.

PRithee, Sir Humphrey, let▪s not leave off our Dehau [...]h▪ but drink on: we have just wound our selves up, and tun' [...] our Instruments, and now we give over playing.

Wild.

'Tis unreasonable—I would as soon turn my back upon a Woman I was in love with, just as I had gotten her consent, or run away when a Battel were first joyn'd, as leave my Bottle now.

Sir Humph.

I do confess I am an Epicurean in this, and in every thing. I'd go no further than the pleasing of my Senses: I would have just so much Wine, as would give me an Appetite to Woman, and just so much Woman, as would give me a desire to Wine.

Bell.

After a Bottle and a half, the man that says Consider, is my Foe.

Wild.

This has but rais'd me—

You only Court, and keep a pother

To make me Gamesome for another▪

Sir Humph.

Faith Gentlemen▪We have had the best of our selves; we have drawn off the Spirit, and nothing but the Lees remain.

Bell.

We have but just kindled the fire and you would put it out.

Sir Humph.

Rather than that should put me out—

Wild.

No; 'twill make our Souls burn clearer. Do but consider, that none but Fools are merry without Wine, such unthinking Coxcombs as [...]re extreamly pleas'd with their own foolish persons.

Bell.

But the thinking man comes to good [...], and that pulls him back in the height of his Career, [...] makes us think what frail Engines we are: But Wine makes us [...] with the Coxcombs, merry and pleas'd with our selves.

Sir [...] ▪

A man of sence is [...], because he must make the best▪ I [...] Market; but Fool [...] are never truly pleas'd, they find themselves despis'd by those they really admire; for Wit is [...]n Idol of all; and Fools only hate witty men, as [...] poor ma [...] does a rich one.

Bell.

I know not whether they're pleas'd; but they laugh and make a noise, as if they were merry.

Sir Humph.

So Children that ar [...] afraid of Spirits sing and make a noise in the dark, but are devillishly afraid for all that; and Coxcombs are damnably dull and sad for all their laughing; and eve [...] [Page] when they drink, They have the Pain, but never the pleasure of Drunkenness.

Wild.

A man would think Coxcombs the serenest Animals breathing; yet sure if they be happy, they are so for ought they know—

Bell.

Pox on 'em, let 'em be what they will: but nothing but Wine can make us merry; and therefore to our Celery again.

Sir Humph.

We Northern people that want the Sun without, ought indeed to put good store of Wine, and create a Sun within us.

Wild.

That's right, to our Celery again, I say,

Sir Humph.

'Tis pleasant while it is Flood within us; but we shall Ebb, and grow dull standing Water after a little while.

Bell.

Prithee don't think to similize us out of our Bottles—

Sir Humph.

Nay, if you be resolv'd, you shall find me Coy no longer—

Wild.

I knew he would▪ come to it at last: But thou art such a Jilting Drunkard—

Sir Humph.

Let's in then, if you will not, let me take the air a little.

Bell.

Air! Open the Window▪ and take it that way—

Enter Steward.

Stew.

I bring you News that will stop you in your Career of mirth—I can scarce tell it you for weeping.

Sir Humph.

What means the fellow—

Stew.

I little thought to live to see this day—

Sir Humph.

Pox o▪ your Formality! out with your dismal News—

Stew.

All your Land in Essex is extended by your Creditors. And your Furniture the richest in the County all seiz'd upon.

Sir Humph.

What says th [...] [...]?—

Stew.

Would you had tak [...] the Fool's counsel, it had not been so. I remember when my old Master purchas'd it, and little thought I should have seen it go out of the Family; and now ther [...] [...] [...]o remedy▪ for all the Land you had free, you have this day [...] our Mistress—Whore.

[Aside.

Sir Humph.

▪Sdeath is this true thou tellest me?

Stew.

Too true, would Heav'n it were not; your Bailiff who is turn'd out of Possession, is come up with the News: And all this Money is run out to Rogues, from whom you have take [...] up Commodities upon Judgments; most of which you sold agen for half value—

[Page]Sir Humph.

This is surprizing News! what a damp it has struck upon me—I begin to come to my self now.

Stew.

Many a good Christmas has my old Master kept there, and must it now be parted from his Family—

Sir Humph.

Gentlemen, my Friends—if you would oblige me so much as to be bound with me for a Sum of Money to stop these ravenous Creditors mouths for the present, I will sell my Timber, and redeem my House and Land afterwards, and secure you in the mean time.

Bell.

How Sir! be Bound—hum—your Steward says, you have no Land to give Counter-Security with—I should be glad to serve you—

Wild.

I'll venture my life for you, whenever you command me; but for being Bound you must excuse me. I have taken an Oath against that: besides, if I would, you cannot give CounterSecurity—

Sir Humph.

So! This is the world, I find; yet I could not have believ'd the Companions of all my Pleasures and Extravagancies could have thus deserted me—I thank you Gentlemen, for clearing my Understanding. 'Tis time to be Sober now: Well—I will try some sudden way; A desperate ill, must have a desperate cure—Farewel.

[Exit Sir Humphrey.

Stew.

So—What is become now of my Employment? 'tis not worth above six hours purchase. That I should live till now.—

[Ex. Steward.

Bell.

So here ends all our Revelling in this House: This is a sudden turn.

Wild.

Beyond my expectation! what a Coxcomb he was to run out thus!

Bell.

Indeed, I never thought he had much in him; he had but ordinary Sence at the best; but this was such a Folly, I am asham'd of him.

Wild.

We must e'n leave his Company; but this Wench Celia runs in my mind. I must have her at any rate: tho' I keep—

Bell.

I am in the same condition; and if we do keep- we must watch 'em from young Officers; or they'l run devillishly astray else.

Wild.

Whatever these Officers do abroad—I am sure they are always invading the Territories of the Keepers at home—

Bell.

Tho' they are in a friends Countrey, they will make Excursions for forrage of that kind—But let us seek out these pretty Whores—

[Exeunt.

[Page] Enter Mrs. Gripe and Celia.

Mrs. Gripe.

'Slife! what shall I do? these Wenches will overrun me.

Celia.

Dear Captain, I must confess for all my Modesty, that I am transported at the Assurance which you give me of having your Love—I am not asham'd to say, You are the first that ever won my heart, and shall be the last to whom I e'r will give it.

Mrs. Gripe.

And 'tis a Treasure I will never part with: Come seal the Promise with a kiss.

Celia.

O! thou sweet Creature. I can deny thee nothing.

Mrs. Gripe.

We are so vexed with that troublesome Creature, Chloris, who watches us.

Celia.

This House is large, and in the Evening! if you'l meet in the farther end of the long Gallery. There is a Room where we may discourse further of our Love.

Mrs Gripe.

Discourse! I hate Discourse, I am too vigorous for that—I shall so—kiss thee there—

Celia.

Well! Thou art a pretty Rogue, I vow—

Enter Chloris.

Chlo.

How, kissing her!

Celia.

Yonder's that envious Creature: Farewel, at Eight in the Gallery—

[Ex. Celia.

Mrs. Gripe.

Oh my dear sweet one, now that malicious Woman's gone, I can tell thee how I love thee.

Chlo.

Me! what did you kiss her for then?

Mrs. Gripe.

The poor thing is so fond, she would kiss me; but I [...]hall make such an Ass of her.

Chlo.

Nay! will you though, dear Captain?

Mrs. Gripe.

Will I? why, I hate her Person and Conditions: Methinks she's ugly.

Chlo.

Indeed, I think she is not handsom, that's the short and the long on't.

Mrs. Gripe.

Handsom! Thou art an Angel to her! Oh how I love thy Beauty and thy Shape—

[Kisses and touses her.

Chlo.

Nay! be quiet now—I vow you make me blush—

Mrs. Gripe.

Oh dear Rogue! That I were in bed with Thee and the Cand [...]es out, and blush what thou could'st.

[Page]Chlo.

Well, I cannot help telling of you, you are the prettiest Man I ever saw.

Mrs. Gripe.

Thou know'st not half that's in me! we are watch't now—But meet me at the farther end of the long Gallery this Night at Eight, and you shall find me a Lion—

Chlo.

And you would have me your Lamb then. Well, I'll meet and venture—Here comes Madam Phillis—Farewel.

[Exit Chloris.

En [...]er Phillis.

Mrs. Gripe.

Here's another! No Mortal Captain could tell what to do with these Three: (As gad save me) 'tis unreasonable.

Phill.

Sweet Captain, I have blu [...]h't sufficiently at the little Billet I gave you; I scarce have Confidence enough to see you after it.

Mrs. Gripe.

Dear fair one, If you had not resolv'd to see me, your Letter had been in vain; if I could tell you my Transport at the reading of it, I should be more Eloquent than Sir Formal himself▪

Phill.

Can you forgive my Confidence?

Mrs. Gripe.

I am sure 'tis so much to my advantage, that I should never have forgiven your Bashful [...]ulness.

Phill.

This is excess of Generosity.

Mrs. Gripe.

Bashfulness in Love! you prevented me, or you shou'd have seen I was not bashful.

Phill.

But that I fear'd your sudden Departure for Fla [...]ders, you should have learn't my Love from other Signs—

Mrs. Gripe.

Depart for Flanders! while my dear Mrs. is here! It cannot be; I'll this Night give up my Commission.

Phill.

My Dear! you are not sure in earnest?

Mrs. Gripe.

Upon my Honour, Madam—I am. Sir Humphrey has made me promise him to lye here this Night: My Chamber is at the farther end of the Gallery, at Eight if you'l meet me there, I'll shew you I am in earnest; by this Kiss I will!

Phill.

Sure there's Wi [...]chcraft in you, that you should charm me thus.

Mrs. Gripe.

I confess 'tis ungrateful, Sir Humphrey has so oblig'd me—

Phill.

Ne'r think on that; who shall tell him? I fear we are watch't—Farewel—at Eight—

[Ex. Ph [...]llis.

Mrs. Gripe.

Good constant Turtles these kept Ladies are, I▪ll say that for 'em: And good charitable publick spirited men the Keepers to maintain women, as they wear Perfumes for the use of others—

[Page]

Enter Serjeant.

Oh Serjeant! what effect of your Negotiation with my Husband?

Serj.

Very little; for when I told him my Captain's Proposals to have the 3000 l. his Sister brought, paid back, or 400 l. a year seperate maintenance, be started, stamp'd and star'd like a man distracted: He bid me knock him on the head, shoot him—cut his Throat, or what I would—I had better do it, then give him such Words—

Mrs. Gripe.

Indeed that was very ill language to give him.

Serj.

I told him at last, there was no other Composition to be made, but he must this Tide for Flanders; and you would take all the care that could be to put him upon such desperate Actions as might bring him to be knock't o'th' head, and that if he did not meet death that way, he should be sure to have it from my Captain's hand, for the Injuries he had done his Sister: I left him Cursing, and in Despair.

Mrs. Gripe.

'Tis a great question whether he had rather dye, or part with the Money: But I'll try one Experiment more, and if I cannot get it by Stratagem, away he goes with my Brother to Flanders: And my last refuge shall be open Force, I'll e'n take possession of his Writings, and rob him: I'll exercise him first, and swinge my Bullies too. Have you a File of Musqueteers ready in case of Resistance?

Serj.

I have.

Mrs. Gripe.

Come on—

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir Humphrey and Phillis.

Sir Humph.

I have found you out, to confer with you about something that concerns our Honour, and our Love.

Phill.

And I am to tell you of something that concerns my Honour, and your want of Love.

Sir Humph.

How Madam?

Ph [...]ll.

Do you think I am to be valu'd at the rate of the ordinary ill-bred kept things of the Town.

Mrs. Gripe.

I have not valued you so! What does she mean?

Phill.

You must know Sir—I look upon my self to be in a manner your Lady—

Sir H [...]mph.

Very well—I have been a fine Coxcomb.

Phill.

And do you imagine that I, who am in a manner your Lady will suffer such Debauchery and Wickedness in my House?

Sir Humph.

How long has it been your House?

[Page]Phill.

Since yesterday; and 'tis as much mine, as if it had descended from my Ancestors these 500 years.

Sir Humph.

To whose bounty do you owe it?

Phill.

To no bounty; I owe it to my own Beauty, and those Charms that made you settle it on me, and my Faith and Constancy has deserv'd it fully—

Sir Humph.

Most exc [...]llent!

Phill.

Shall I throw away the flow'r of all my youth, and re [...]ist all the temptations of the fine Gentlemen about the Town, without those usual Settlements which Ladies of my Condition have: In short, I am to let you know 'tis my House, and I will have no Abominations [...]ommitted here! it goes against my Conscience.

Sir Humph.

So—I have parted with most part of my Estate, and Liberty to boot! Oh negligence, and want of thinking.

Phill.

To have you and your lewd Companions Sotting and Drinking, and using all Licentiousness. But above all, to have Whores brought into my House too! such filthy Creatures, whom you know I hate with all my heart▪ it melts me into tears to think on't—

Sir Humph.

[...]e mollify'd, good Madam; I hope the Sin you speak of is not so great; for your sake—

Phill.

Do you think I will dishonour my self any longer, to suffer those little ill-bred Kept-things, Celia and Chloris, to come to my House? No! your Sisters and your Mother shall be welcom to me; provided they give me that respect which is due to me: I intend to visit and keep Company with none but Persons of Quality—

Sir Humph.

Pray Madam, who is it that has kept you?

Phill.

My Beauty, and my Merit; not your Bounty—

Sir Humph.

And are not you a Tailor's Daughter?

Phill.

My Fortune makes me of a good Family, and you must know, Sir—I have been kept so long, that I look upon my self as your Lady now.

Sir Humph.

See the damn'd Insolence and Unreasonableness of these Creatures call'd Whores; if a man keeps 'em from starving one year, they'd plague a man ever after. If I mistake not, you have told me that you lov'd me.

Phill.

Yes, till your wicked Courses have provok'd me beyond all measure! and therefore pray consider of it, and give me an answer, if you resolve to persist—pray quit my House. Farewel—

[Ex. Phillis.

Sir Humph.

O damn'd Whore! I have a way to circumvent thee though: I must plague my self to punish Thee—

[Ex. Sir Humph▪

[Page] Enter Mrs. Gripe, Serjeant, Gripe, Richard, Sir Christopher, Heildebrand and Blunderbus.

Mrs. Gripe.

Come! Where are my Souldiers? I must lose no time, but exercise you often; for we shall enter upon Action as soon as we come in Flanders—

Gripe.

I am not for Flanders, nor any Action; but Actions upon the Case.

Mrs. Gripe.

Heart! does he mutter? Tye him neck and heels quickly—

Gripe.

Hold, hold—you'l stifle me. I am so stiff I cannot bend. Hold, I say, I will obey.

Sir Chr.

Come Captain, you have done enough with us; now you have own'd us before the Bailiffs. Let us go, we'll go to the Temple or Alsacia for refuge till the Business be over.

Blund.

Good Bully Captain, you over-acted your Part, and laid on too hard before the Bailiffs tho'—let me tell you that.

Heild.

You broke my head; I do not use to put it up, but upon this occasion.

Mrs. Gripe.

I must keep strict Discipline amongst my Souldiers, you shall find that was nothing.

Sir Chr.

'Tis no matter, let that pass; but now Captain, let's be in earnest, and go you along and sup with us in White-Fryers, we'll have Fiddles and Whores to entertain you, and roar like Dragons, and be as merry and as mad as Lightning.

Be she black▪ or be she brown,

She's the best in all the Town.

How now, old Fool? How do you like a Souldier's life?

Mrs. Gripe.

Come Gentlemen, no fooling; you have receiv'd the King's Money, and his Cloaths, and I will make you know you are my Souldier [...]—Stand to your Arms all!

Sir Chr.

Hah—What a Devil does he say?

Mrs. Gripe.

Handle your Arms, all: Dam'me! what am I disobey'd?

[Cudgels'em.

Sir Chr.

'Sheart! my Head and Shoulders! prithee Captain leave fooling. What a Devil, are you mad?

Mrs. Gripe.

Death! Handle your Arms all—I'll make you know your Officer.

[Cudgels'em agen.

Heild.

Ounds! if you strike agen, I'll draw—

Blund.

Out comes Porker, if you strike once more.

[Page]Sir Chr.

Prithee Captain leave off, you have carried o [...] the Frollick long enough.

Mrs. Gripe.

Nay then have at you! Musqueteers make ready.

[Enter a file of Musqueteers.

Sir Chr.

Make ready? ha! what a D [...]vil do you mean?

Mrs. Gripe.

Present.

Sir Chr.

Hold! hold! I'll obey.

Blund.

Hold, hold—we'll obey.

Heild.

Hold, hold—we'll obey.

Mrs. Gripe.

'Sdeath you Dogs▪ no trifling with me! shall such Rascals as you think it enough to be Drunk, and Swagger, beat B [...]wds, kick Drawers, squabble with Constables and Watches, break Windows, and triumph in Drunken Brawls and Street-quarrels, and never serve your Countrey?—If you have Valour, I ll make you turn it that way.

Sir Chr.

Good Captain, we did not think you would have us'd us thus! we did not intend to be Soldiers; we only desir'd to be protected by you—for this present Occasion—

Mrs. Gripe.

What e'r you intended, my Company is not compleat, and I'll make you know you are the King's Soldiers now—I shall protect no Rascally Poultroons—if any thing can do't—do brav [...]ly, and your valour may defend you; Death! shall such idle lazy Scoundrels bully, and roar and boast of drunken bloodless quarrels here at Home—While we lye hard, suffer weary marches, and fight all in blood, for our Country abroad, hah!—

Sir Chr.

Very fine! we have brought our selves into a pretty Condition.

Blund.

Pox on your Project, we had as good have been in the Bailiffs hands.

Heild.

This damn'd C [...]ptain—has ten Bullies in him—

Sir Chr.

Who the Devil—would have thought it? a little pitisul [...] fellow—I thought I could have beaten two of him—

Mrs. Gripe.

Ground your Arms.

Sir Chr.

Thank you, good Captain, with all my heart; shaw! Pox I knew he did this but to try us. Come, all's well now—

Mrs. Gripe.

Tye 'em neck and heels in [...]tantly.

Sir Chr.

Nay, prithee Captain don't fool with us any more now.

Mrs. Gripe.

Serjeant, see it done.

Serj.

You shall find 'tis no fooling—

He with the Musquetee [...]s. tye them neck and heels.

Sir Chr.

Why Captain, what a Devil?

Blund.

What a Pox!

Heild.

Is the Devil in you?

[Page]Mrs. Gripe.

This is for example: Next mutiny I'll hang ye!

Gripe.

Now Rogues and Bulli [...]s, why don't you sing and roar now? How do you like Soldiers lives now?

Rich.

Why look you, Comrades, This 'tis to want experience in your Duty! you must learn to ride the wooden▪Horse, once or twice a day too.

Sir Chr.

Why Captain—good Captain.

Blund.

Captain, Zounds, Captain.

Heild.

Why Captain—Death and Heart—

Mrs. Gripe.

No remorse yet! What you old Villain, you are resolv'd not to do my Sister Right, and return her Portion, or settle her Jointure on her presently—

Gripe.

Ounds! part with 3000 l. I had rather dye.

Mrs. Gripe.

And that by Heav'n thou shalt do; nay more, she shall take possession of thy Writings, thy Money, and thy Pawns; and satisfie her self.

Gripe.

How's that? That's worst of all—

Enter Sir Nicholas Peakgoose.

Sir Nich.

Oh Gentlemen! where are you? you are turn'd Soldiers, I hear: you have almost kill'd me amongst you, and won my Money, a deuce take ye! My Celia will be dreadful angry, I am afraid.

Sir Chr.

Rogue! we shall meet you.

Sir Nich.

I am glad to see you in this Condition, now one may safely keep you Company.

Mrs. Gripe.

How now Sirrah! who are you? a Soldier in no condition is to be laught at, by such an Insect, a Maggot as thou art.

Sir Nich.

A Maggot! an Insect—I am a Knight, Sir.

Mrs. Gripe.

You are a Rascal, Sir! take that—

[Cudgels him.

Sir Nich.

Nay! I have done, Captain,—if you be angry, I beg your Pardon, I am going to find out my Mistress, Farewell, Sir—I am sure they have made me cruel Sick, a poise take 'em.

[Ex. Sir Nich.

Blund.

Good Captain, let us be unty'd! we'll obey—

Heild.

Good Captain, let us be unty'd! we'll obey—

Sir Chr.

Prithee dear Captain do—I will be correspondent to command, and be a gentle Spirit.

Mrs. Gripe.

Unty 'em—

They unty 'em.

This is call▪d a Receipt to tame a Bully—I shall show you there's more than roaring goes to true Valour: Come, Handle your Arms—

[They bandle their Arms.

Poise your Mus [...]ets—awk [...]d Rascals!

[Page]Shoulder all—Now, Puppy, the wrong shoulder, Sot. [To Sir Chr. Rest your Arms.

To the Right—Now old fool, can you not tell your right hand from your left yet?

Gripe.

What will become of me? I cannot bear this! Heav'n deliver me from this damn'd Tyrant; my Wife will rob me too, that's worst of all—

Rich.

You are the strangestawkard old Fellow, Comrade, that ever I saw—learn of me—

Mrs. Gripe.

To the right! to the right! now Rascal you are to the left.

Sir Chr.

Well, well—what a Devil would you have?

Mrs. Gripe.

To the left, to the left! so, so—Now march—very well—you will come on I see in time—Serjeant, March 'em to their Quarters here in this House; and set a Sentinel over every one of'em.

Serj.

I will Captain. Come march—

[They march after the Serj.

Mrs. Gripe.

I do not find that this old Fellow mollifies at all; yet I'll try one Experiment more upon him, and if he relents not, my Brother carries him in earnest.

[Exit Mrs. Gripe.

Enter Chloris.

Chlo.

'Tis Eight a clock, sure the Captain's come by this time! I hope I have not made him stay—'Tis very dark—

[Enter Celia.

Celia.

It has struck Eight, where is this dear, sweet Captain—I hope he is punctual to his assignation—

Chlo.

Ha—I hear a noise of some body—who's there?

Celia.

'Tis I, my Dear!

Chlo.

Where are you?

[Both grope about.

Celia.

Here! Give me yourhand—

Chlo.

Oh my sweet Captain. Both together.

Celia.

Dear, dear Captain. Both together.

Celia.

Ha! who's this, a Woman?

Chlo.

Heav'n what's this, a Gown and Petticoat?

Celia.

Mercy upon me, who are you?

Chlo.

What's that to you, I will not'tell you, a malicious Slut, to watch me and spoil my Assignation—

Celia.

Oh! Thou poor envious Fool, Thou expect to meet the Captain, I know thee—Vengeance on this Fool—

Chlo.

Yes! and so do I you; and wonder you should be such a Fool to expect the Captain: He meet such a one as Thee?

[Page] Enter Phillis.

Phill.

This is the place and time of meeting, now for my pretty dear Captain.

Celia.

Thee! poor inconsiderable Creature! He laughs at Thee to my knowledge.

Chlo.

Did he tell you so?

Celia.

Yes, he did—he scorns Thee for thy Folly, and loaths Thee for thy Person.

Chlo.

Thou bely'st him! He scorns thy words! my Person! 'tis an other—guess Person than thine: I'd have thee to know I am sure he hates Thee.

Phill.

'Slife I have scap'd a fine discovery of my self to these two Wenches. They are my Rivals, and are quarreling for the Captain here.

Chlo.

I wonder at thy Confidence, to think the Captain should meet thee! He appointed me to meet him at this time here, about a little Business—

Celia.

A little Business—I know your Business—but he has no such Intention—prithee Impudence begon, he appointed me to meet him here, where I was to confer with him, without being troubled with Thee—

Chlo.

You confer!

Phill.

What say They—This must be false—They are conceited! Vain Sluts! I am sure he would meet none but me—I'll rout 'em out of my House, I am sure—

Chlo.

If I could see thee, I'd pull thy eyes out—

Celia.

Fool begon—I laugh at Thee.

Phill.

How shall I send 'em away, and get the Captain to my Self?

Celia.

I hear some body! Who's there—Captain—my Dear!

Chlo.

Thy Dear—here am I, Captain.

Phill.

I am the Devil come to meet you both—

[In a big Voice.

Chlo.

Oh Lord.

Celia.

Help—

[Shreik and run to g [...]t out.

Enter Sir Humphrey, with a Candle, and a Parson with him.

Sir Humph.

How now! what's the matter here?

Phill.

Oh unlucky time! must he come too! Nothing my Dear, but I play'd the Rogue, and frighted these two in the dark.

Celia.

Am I discover'd to her—oh mischief—

Ex. Celia.

[Page]Chlo.

Must she over-hear me. I could have born the other down, if she had Spoken of it—

[Exit Chl [...].

Sir Humph.

Since you are grown so pious—I have brought a Lea [...]ned Churchman to confer with you about a Case of Conscience, I have been in every Room in the House to find you out, pray come along with me—

Phill.

I obey.

[Ex. Sir Humph. Parson, Phillis▪

Enter Gripe and Richard, Mrs. Gripe in Womans habit, a Mantea [...], a Petticoat, and a Hood.

Gripe.

Oh Heav'n and Ear [...]h! is the perfidious Jade my Wife here? were ever two so like in Face and Nature, as these accurs'd Twins—

Mrs. Gripe.

My Dear, look not so strangely on me—for I am sadly sensible of my own rashness, and your great Injuries from my cruel Brother.

Gripe.

What's the meaning of this—I will, if possible, make use of her to get my liberty, and if I can get her home to me, I'll murder her—

Mrs. Gripe.

I am come full of Sorrow and Repentance, having been at my Brother's Lodging ever since the moment of my Escape; and not hearing of your usage till now—if you will pardon me, I will propound some means for your Liberty, and go home and submit wholly to your pleasure—

Gripe.

My dearest Wife! now thou art thy self agen—I shall be transported to receive thee into my Arms.

I think strangling will be a very good Death—for her as can be—

[Aside.

Mrs. Gripe.

Can'st thou forgive me, Dearest?

Gripe.

O yes, my Dear, and love thee as well as e'r I did—Or if I should run her through with my Sword, and say she kill'd her self—

[Asid [...].

Mrs. Gripe.

I would go for my Lord Chief Justices Warrant, and raise the Town, but I'd release Th [...]e; but my rash Brother knowing what my Conjugal affections would prompt me to, when I came to sollicit for your Liberty, he put me under the hands of his Serjeant, and I am as much confin'd as you: The time grows short, and we must think of some sudden way to prevent your Voyage—

Gripe.

Dear heart! I can never reward thee enough for thy kindness to me—if we get home again together, thou shalt be as free as thou can'st wish to be—

Let me see, a small knitting Needle under her left Arm when she's asleep▪ will do the business rarely—

[Aside.

[Page]What can'st thou propound for me to do? my dearest Heart.

Mrs. Gripe.

There's no way left, but to seem to comply with him; for he is re [...]olutely bent—

Gripe.

Comply! what to go for Flanders?

Mrs. Gripe.

No—in that [...]ettlement he proposes for me.

Gripe.

Mercy on me! What 3000 l. or 400 l. a year separate Maintenance! oh—I shall [...]aint! y have struck me dead. 'Sheart! what a Sum is that?

Rich.

I have a small Brandy-Bottle, ' [...]is Soldier-like, and very Comfortable.

Mrs. Gripe.

'Tis nothing in thy Wealth.

Gripe.

Nothing! Damnation! knock me o'th head, or cut my Throat—If I should smother her with a Bolster, and give out she dy'd of an Apoplexj! that's the most secret way I have thought on yet.

[Aside.

If you love me, why d [...]d you not refuse that settlement?

Mrs. Gripe.

I did, and told him I would not accept on't! at which he was enrag'd, and told me, though I was a Fool for my self, he would not be so for me; he was resolv'd you should do it, or suffer the last extremity; and he's so inflam'd, he may for ought I know throw thee overboard in the Voyage, if thou refusest.

Gripe▪

Let him do't: Ounds, 3000 l. or 400 l. a year! let him do't, let him do't, let him do't, I say.

Mrs. Grip [...].

Why my Dear! if thou sign'st that Deed, I'll return it thee again. And be thy most obedient Wife.

Gripe.

Poor Rogue! wilt thou? that's kind indeed; prithee kiss me, my pretty Dear: Thou overjoy'st me with thy Love!

Hah—I have thought on the be [...]t way, if I can get her home with me, I'll give her Opium in her drink, and that ne'r a Doctor or Chyrurgeon on 'em all can discover, when they open her. Ay, it shall be so!—

[Aside.

Mrs. Gripe.

The least thing I could hear him propound, was to seize upon thy Jewels and thy Deeds, and secure 'em in a Friend's hands of his, till he had reduc'd you to comply.

Gripe.

O Devil! that's worst of all.

Mrs. Gripe.

Trust me, we are one flesh, our interests are one: I shall restore Thy Deed, and be subject; for my Conscience will not let me part from Thee, tho' the rashness of my passion made [...]e fly.

Gripe.

Poor Lamb! if I had thee sase at home, I'd ne'r give thee Occasion more: prithee go to thy damn'd Brother, and try to mollifie [...]im f [...]rther, while I retire and consider of this.

Mrs. Gripe.

I will, my Dear—one kiss first.

Gripe.

Oh! 'tis a Dear Soul!

[Page]Well, she takes Opium, that's certain; for while she lives, I shall never be at rest from this Devillish Rascal her Brother.

Serj.

Go into your Quarter! come Madam—

[Exeun [...].

En [...]er Bellamy, Celia, Wildman, Chloris.

Bell.

If you don't sind me as obsequious, and as kind a Keeper as the best of 'em—

Celia.

I must confess you speak reasonably, and like a Gentleman. But I shall break Sir [...]'s heart—

B [...]ll.

You have broken his Fortune, and when that's gone, 'tis no matter for his heart.

Celia.

That indeed is undeniable, and I can no longer resist those Charm [...] which before subdu'd me.

Chlo.

I must confess you speak so like a worthy person, and shew such signs of Love to me, that I cannot but think you the finest person in the world; but Sir Christopher will kill me if I should le [...]ve him.

Wild.

Let me alone to defend the heart I gain: Besides, he's undon! a beggarly fellow, and is going a Redcoat into Fland [...]rs.

Chlo.

Indeed he has been extravagant, and run out a great part of his Estate; and I hate a man that has run out his Fortune: I vow I do, with my heart.

Enter Sir Nicholas P [...]akgoose.

Sir Nich.

Ah my Dear, art thou there? I am come at last to thee, pretty one.

Celia.

Get you gon, you drunken Sot; you were drunk with Bulli [...]s, and lost your Watch and Ring.

Sir Nich.

Why look you there, I thought what 'twould come to: As I hope to be sav'd I could not help it; They wo [...]ld have kill'd me if I had not drank and play'd with them, and I knew you would have been very angry, if I had been kill'd.

Celi [...].

Get you gone, you impertinent Coxcomb! must you come and interrupt me, when I am talking with a Gentleman; have you no breeding?

Sir Nich.

Well, well, say no more. I'll stand by▪ and wait till you have done.

[Page] Enter Sir Humphrey, Phillis, Parson and Steward.

Sir Humph.

Call in all my Servan [...]s. Now all this Company take notice, I am married to this Lady—Here's the Canonical Officer that executed us.

Pars.

I did Marry 'em as the Church appoints.

Bell.

How Married!

Wild.

To his Wench?

Sir Humph.

Gentlemen, you seem to wonder at my proceeding! I found my self involv'd on a sudden, beyond any other redemption, and therefore chose this, which I hope will set me free. This shepyrat had rob'd me of what my extravagance had left free, and I have taken Letters of Reprisal, and have gotten my own agen.

Bell.

I wish you Joy.

Wild.

Much happiness to you.

Sir Humph.

She is the greatest Fortune I could have gotten, nor do I know why a Man should not fit a Woman that perhaps may last him his life time, and yet draw on a Shoe that he is to wear but two days before he take it.

Chlo.

I wish your Ladiship much Joy; 'tis a great honour to our Function to have one of it so advanced.

Celia.

I wish your Ladiship much Happiness—but there's no Wife lives like one of us—let me tell her that.

Enter Mrs. Gripe, Serjeant, Gripe, Sir Christopher, Blunderbus and Heildebrand.

Mrs. Gripe.

Sir Humphrey, I have sudden Orders from the General to Embark this Tide with my Soldiers; I came hearing of your Marriage, to wish you joy, and take my leave of you—

Sir Humph.

Sir, I humbly thank you, and wish you a good Voyage.

Wild.

Now I desire all this good Company to be Witnesses to the Agreement made between me, and this Lady.

Sir Chr.

What a Pox does he say?

Wild.

It is agreed by and between the Parties above mention'd, that I am to have the sole use of this Ladies Person, to my own proper behoof, paying the Sum of 400 l. a year, and buying a pretty convenient Coach and Horses: what say you?

Chlo.

It is a bargain.

Sir Chr.

Oh damn'd confounded Jade, wilt t [...]ou leave me?

[Page]Wild.

Good words Red-Coat, or I'll cut your Throat.

Chlo.

You are going for a Soldier, and leaving me.

Sir Nic.

Ay! you are going for a Soldier! what would you have her do? I warrant you won't take my Celia at this; I'll trust her pretty Rogue—

Sir Chr.

You damn'd Impudent Rascal! must you prate? Sirrah! take that.

Sir Nich.

Ay! 'tis no matter, I han't lost my Mistress.

Bell.

Now hear us a little: Item, It is articled and agreed between this Lady and me, that I am to use, possess and enjoy the Tenement of of her Person without any lett, hinderance, or molestation whatsoever, buying a Coach and Horses, as aforesaid; and paying the annual Rent of 400 l. per annum, of lawful Money of England; half yearly by true and equal portions▪ The first payment to be made at the Temple-Hall, at the Feast of the Annun [...]iation, and the next at the Feast of St. Michael.

Sir Nich.

Hold Sir! not so fast, I forbid the Banes! she's mine! why I have spent half my Estate upon her.

Bell.

Stand away, poor Coxcomb! what say you Madam.

Celia.

It is a Match.

Sir Nich.

O Lord! Oh Lord! will you serve me so? what will become of me?

Celia.

Go! get you home, and live civilly with your Wife; and look after your Children as an honest man should. 'Tis time.

Sir Nich.

Ay—It may thank you that I did not do it before, that it may—I will go hide my head in a hole, and ne'r be seen again.

Enter Mrs. Gripe, Serjeant, Gripe, and the rest.

Mrs. Gripe.

Come Serjeant! get the Barge ready.

Gripe.

What a Devil shall I do? If I Seal that Deed, and ever get her into my Custody, I'll have it again, and her life to boot.

Mrs. Gripe.

Gentlemen and Ladies, your humble Servant.

Gripe.

Hold, hold—If there be no remedy, I will Seal that Deed—

Mrs. Gripe.

Come on then! do it, and I'll release you.

[He signs and seals.

Gripe.

I deliver this as my Act and Deed.

Mrs. Gripe.

Now Gentlemen, be pleas'd to witness it—

Sir Humph.

With all my heart—

[Sir Humphrey writes.

Mrs. Gripe.

So! Now there remains another thing! you must release these Gentlemen for their Riot at your H [...]use, or go still.

Gripe.

Well—I do release 'em.

Rich.

Good Sir! do not release me; for I must go home and starve with him—I had better go and be kill'd with you.

[Page]Mrs. Gripe.

No—I retain you as my Servant. And now good Mr. Gripe, your much abus'd Wife is free, and thanks you for her Liberty.

Gripe.

O Devil! Is it she all this while?

Ladies.

A Woman!

Mrs. Gripe.

Yes Ladies, I am; but wish my self a Man, for your sakes, and my own.

Sir Humph.

How this Mistake was carried?

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll bring my Brother to thank▪ you for your favours to me, and then you'l Mistake as much.

Gripe.

Am I thus Cozen'd—I'll go home, and starve to Death. The Devil take you all—and so farewel—

[Exit Gripe.

Sir Chr.

Cudgel'd and beaten thus damnably by a Woman! I hope She Captain, you will release us now—

Mrs. Gripe.

Yes go—I'll have no Bullies in my Company now.

Blund.

'Sheart! were ever men so dishonour'd as we!

Heild.

Beaten and bruis'd by a Woman!

Sir Chr.

As for that damn'd Jade, I will s [...]owr and break her Windows every night in the year.

Mrs. Gripe.

Now all ye Husbands, let me Warn ye!

If you'd preserve your Honours, or your Lives;

Ne'r dare be Tyrants o're your Lawful Wives.

[Exeunt Omnes.

FINIS.

Epilogue.

[Page]

Spoken by Mrs. Barrey, who acted the Woman-Captain.

WHo dares deny the Poet his applause

When I am Champion, and assert his cause?

Let him be Bully, ne'r so stout and tall,

'Sdeath I'll not fear the briskest of ye all:

No, though ye Rant and Roar, and sometimes Fight,

I've that which never fails to do me right.

Your would-be Wits love what is slight and bright

In Tinsel-wit, just like their own delight,

And Plays like Birth-day Suits, made for a Night,

These are o'rejoy'd to have a jest at hand

That costs but little Wit to understand.

Good sence, like solid Meat to sickly Men,

As soon as swallowed, is thrown up agen;

And for strong Meats, but few of ye are fit,

Who to meet Wit, should come with equal Wit,

And faith of late, that's but thin sown i'th' Pit.

He found by▪s last, you would not like what's good,

Though it was praised by all that understood.

Remembring how you used that last he writ,

He made this Low, so to your Level sit;

Plenty of Noise, and scarcity of Wit—

The Devil's in you all, if this don't hit:

Yet after all, if any one there be

So careless of his Life to anger me,

In daring to dispraise the Play, or Action,

There take my Glove, for I ll have Satisfaction.

Information about this book

Title statement

The woman-captain a comedy acted by His Royal Highnesses servants / written by Tho. Shadwell.

Shadwell, Thomas, 1642?-1692.

Edition statement

1680

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A59466

ID [STC]

Wing S2887

ID [STC]

ESTC R13844

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

13023189

ID [OCLC]

ocm 13023189

ID [VID]

96642

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A59466)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 96642)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 400:7)

Source

— The woman-captain a comedy acted by His Royal Highnesses servants / written by Tho. Shadwell., Shadwell, Thomas, 1642?-1692..

Extent

[7], 72, [1] p.

Printed for Samuel Carr ...,. London :: 1680.. (First ed. Cf. NUC pre-1956.) (Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.) (Epilogue, spoken by Mrs. Berry, who acted the Woman-captain: p. [1] at end.)

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.