SCENE I. Trickitt's House.

Gayman and Granger, from Play.

A Pox on your Bassett: Catch me at that damn'd Game, this Twelvemonth agen, and may I live to value my self upon the Modish Reputation of a gentile Tallieur.

And that has made a Fortune before now.

It never shall make mine: Death! I have no patience to be eter­nally jilted by Alpieus.—

But not the Ladies, Granger.

The Ladies? There lies the secret: When you design a Bank, you first consider what Beauties you shall get to draw in Custom: And I cou'd tell you, as a certain Lord did, when askt, why he never play'd at my Lady Pampockett's.—

As how, pray?

Why, since you press me—I don't like your Women.

Sure you forget my Charming Lady Trickitt: And that's Inhospi­table in her own House.

No, faith, I have her in my thoughts, a fresh Idea of her, and her little Cheats; her nauseous toss, and all those Affectations, that ought to make a Woman odious to Men of sense.

Gad a mercy, St. George for England!

[Page 2]Now wou'd your Man of Travel and true Dress, be transported, with what your right born Brittain finds such fault with; and think these little agree­ments of absolute necessity to make a Mistress relish.

To make a Mistress relish! to make a Mistress stink of the fa­miliarity of half the Town: I must own my want of good breeding; the Hogo's much too strong for me.

Thou Monster of ingratitude! I heard this very Woman, within this Month, say, there was not so agreeable a Man in Town, as Mr. Gran­ger; so generous a Friend; and so good humour'd a Gentleman; especially upon a winning hand.—

Why there's the Devil on't: One Night, about that time, she lost her Money, and I was lucky: She, to my Face, cry'd up the Genero­sity of those, who make their Friends partakers of their good Fortune: And I was too well satisfied with mine to contradict her: Next Morning, she sent to speak with me; on earnest Business, which was, to borrow 500 Guinny's; promising to repay me; with such a Grace, that no one, who had not the Honour to know her Ladyship, cou'd have had the Heart to refuse her.

And how cou'd you retire like a Man of Honour?

I told her, mine was a Younger Brother's Fortune; not to be ventur'd but on good Security; she indeed kindly proffer'd me the best she had about her.—

And so you Sign'd, and Seal'd?

No, faith, without advising with Counsel, I knew 'twas so en­cumbred with Fops, and Blockheads, there was nothing in remainder for a reasonable Man: There's not a Rogue so nauseous, but is welcome to her for his Mony: All that will be Losers, Lenders, or Givers, have an equal claim to her good Graces: From the grinning stinking Lord, to the fat Booby Squire, whose unsavoury Vapours wou'd offend the Ladies Noses, in any Ruel, but her Ladyship's.

But what say you, to my lovely Lady Malepert? She's more parti­cular; One Man at once suffices there.

Wou'd it were always to be her Husband.

That a Woman, at Eighteen, an Age, when Love, and Pleasure us'd to rule, shou'd in the midst of Plenty, value her self upon the Reputation of a Publican, and always sit at the Réceit of Custom! Rot her, she has less mercy than a Mountebank's Bill: No Cure, no Mony, is a moral Honesty in the Surgeon; but no Mony, no Cure, is only the Conscience of a Whore.

Prejudice of Education, Granger: Her Inclinations may be good, and Wishwell's influence over-rule 'em: She governs there, and Interest governs her.

Nay, Mrs. Wishwell's the very Flower of modern Industry, and shews a Master-stroak in all she does: First, to insinuate, at her Age, in­to the Inclinations of this young Lady; then, with her Character, to per­swade the Family, she was a fit instructer for her; and which is more, to make Lord Lofty, tho' turn'd of Fifty, agreeable to almost Fifteen.

But above all, to break the League 'twixt her, and her Lord's Aunt, my Lady Susan, who tho' a Friend to the Projection, cou'd not endure to have it brought about by any but the Family.

Yes, that Youthful Virgin of five and forty, with a swelling Rump, bow Leggs, a shining Face, and colly'd Eyebrows (of what breath she pleases) sure she's an Original: 'Tis the most familiar Duck, always engag'd a Month before hand: She'd no more miss a Ball, than the curling her little finger, when she eats, tho' she hobbles worse than Abigall in the Scornful Lady, when she has broke her Crupper.

No matter for all that, I am oblig'd to her.

O yes, by, having the Honour to be your Bawd, she thought to recommend her self to be my Mistress.

Despising her, as you do, why are you so often with her? Your visits are as regular as my young Masters to the crooked Heiress, whom his prudent Parent has pickt out, to be the future Blessing of the Family.

Why, to confess my Sins, and blush for all at once—since I refus'd Trickitt the 500 Pound, I don't know what the Devil's the matter with her, but she has made me some advances, that have put me into a Curiosity of knowing the meaning of 'em. But, Damn her, while I believe her endeavouring to perswade me that she's in Love with me, I think I am in Love with her: I can't see to the end on't: But she, and my worthy Lady Susan, being, as you know, inseparable, I need explain no farther.

Speaking of Trickitt, as you have always done, I durst have sworn of her whole Sex, she was the last in your opinion.

And so she is.

And yet you follow her.

I consider the Principles of a Mistress, no more than of a good Companion, they are both the Instruments of pleasure for the time; and to be trusted with nothing beyond that meeting.

But can you Love without esteem?

Why, you Court Lady Malepert; you can have no real esteem for a Woman of her mercinary Character.

Cou'd I reclaim her, I shou'd be happy: At least the, Tryal will be pleasant.

How does this agree with your Passion for Maria? Can you be false to her?

She won't let me be true to her: I have try'd her every way, but one; and that one way, that high way of Matrimony, 'twill come to at last, I believe.

I always thought Wishwell your Friend, in this Business.

The Lord has got the better of me: yet I will visit her agen, to get her into my Interest, if I can; if I fail in that, I shall at least have the pleasure of railing at her.

Nay, never think of curing the Mercenary Itch in an Old Wo­man: 'Tis the very Tetter of that Sex: and more or less, breaks out upon 'em all: The young ones are not clear on't.

Here comes the Noble Lord Malepert, and that Minor of Chivalry, Sir Ruff Rancounter: their Conversation shou'd be diverting; let's stand back and observe 'em.

Granger, methought, us'd your Lordship a little scurvily: I wonder you cou'd bear it; for my part, I always make mince-meat of any Fellow that offers but half so much to me.

Pish, he lost his Money, and I teaz'd him; these things are nothing between us: Besides, I am witty upon him in my turn, I call him Wasp.

Nay, I must allow you are too hard for him at Repartee: but a Man of Honour, my Lord, shou'd never put up the least indignity: You never see him offer the like to Gayman.

Who? Gayman? Lord! he's the servil'st Fellow, the Mini­sters do so laugh at him.

Why, he'll fight, my Lord.

O Jesu! Sir! I never said any thing to the contrary: He's a very worthy Person; I always reckon him among my best Friends, whatever I say of him: I assure you he did all his Exercises at the Acade­my to a Miracle: He and I rid the great Horse together.

The great Horse! my Lord? sure you forget your self, your Lady's Padd went a great way with you.

Why really, Sir Ruff, you won't believe me;

But I became the manage so well, that I verily believe I had been in the Army, but for one thing—

What was that, pray?

Why, they said Riding too much wou'd teach me to turn in my Toes, and spoil my Dancing; and you know a Body wou'd not do that for less than a Regiment; and they offered me but a Troop. Was you at the Play last Night?

Yes, what of that?

Was Wishwell there? Well, she's the best Woman.

You have cause to say so.

Yes, really, she's always so particular to me: I have seen her so play upon my Lord Lofty when he was much a greater Man than I.

Has not she play'd for him too, my Lord?

This Blockhead will tell him he's a Cuckold to his Face.

Well, my Wife's mightily oblig'd to her:

She's admitted to her Toilett, when she's abroad to Dutchesses: then she gave her the finest Present of Stuffs a Board an East-India Ship, Lofty had but just given it her: I am to have a Gown and Slippers of it my self.

Yes, and a Night-Cap too. Can this Puppy be so blind, not to know who made his Wife that Present?

When was you at Mrs. Siam's?

Last Night, at Ten, we raffled there, Lord Lofty, Wishwell, my Wife, and I: My Wife sent me home for more Money; but before I came back, where do you think they were gone?—Why, even to Wishwell's, where we had the prettiest Supper: After we rose from Ta­ble, Wishwell took me aside, as she us'd to do, to rail with her, at the Vices of the Age; I thank her, she knew which way to oblige me—

And the whole Company.

Why, after all, this was no Complement to my Lady.

Why, Lord, Sir Ruff, you don't think we left her alone: we were better bred, I assure you: my Lord and she went into the little Room, with the Crimson Couch, to talk of State Affairs: Now you must know my Wife understands State Affairs to a Miracle: She picks up all the News of the Drawing-Room, to inform me of at Night; for her whole Business, you must know, is to make me rise—

Out a Bed from her, I believe you.

Wou'd she had a better Employment.

To make you rise! 'tis lost Labour very often, my Lord; for, after all, you don't look much like a Man of Business.

O Lord, Sir! you're mistaken in me; I love State Affairs mightily; and understand 'em, tho' I say it, passably well: Why, I had a Politick Master all the while I was in France; without Vanity I got off a Sheriff, this Winter, in spight of the Commissioners.

Was not Maria with you at Wishwell's?

Ay, ay, Maria came in, and interrupted us; Maria came in— a Lady of your Acquaintance,—as good a Maid, tho' I say it—

Tho' you say it? what can you say of her?

Why, thou hast such an akeing Tooth after that Maiden­head of hers; but she won't marry you: Besides she has no Maidenhead.

Has your Lordship no Coxcomb?

Why, what do you mean, Sir Ruff? I never was ask'd such an uncivil Question in all my Life. Jesu! mayn't a Man make a Jest, or so, upon a Friend, in a civil way?

Not where my Honour, or the Honour of my Mistress, is concern'd.

Pish, I honour her as much as you do: I think her Virtuous, let the World say what they will of her.

Will that repair the Injury? Dammee, I'll have Satisfaction, or I'll wring your Neck off.

Help there, Treason, I am the Lord Malepert, seize him some Body—But, dear Sir Ruff, I meant no harm in the World? but as I love railing mightily, I can't forbear a witty Jest sometimes—

Mr. Granger, Mr. Gayman, your Servant: Were you at the Park last Night?

Was your Lordship a Hunting with the King?

That's a question for my Taylor?

Who was he that left you just now?

Honest Sir Ruff. Does the Queen see Company?

He us'd your Honour something coursely, I thought.

Pish, 'tis a Pleasant Blustering Fellow, I allow him all his Hu­mours, and he knows mine.

It seems he does.

Now you must know I am very quiet, and good natur'd, 'till I am vex'd, but then I'm the Devil—

At Twelve I'll meet you in the Park.

Stay, stay, we'll go together.

Did you lose to Night, Mr. Granger?

Did your Lady Sup at Mrs. Wishwell's?

Pish, did you win then?

Did my Lord Lofty Sup there too?

Very foolish; were you a Saver then?

Zounds! did you leave 'em alone?

That's the way for you to be a winner.

Well, my Wife does so laugh at him, when we're alone: she's only Civil to him, because he's a Relation: She say's his Conversation's so out of Fashion; and if he shou'd pretend to make Love—

She wou'd make very good sport with him.

I dare swear for her.

Yes, I vow now, for I assure you, she has a world of Wit, as my Aunt Susan says: She'll play upon me sometimes before Company; but that you know is the fashion—

What, to play upon your Lordship?

Pish, no, I mean to use a Husband negligently in publick; but then she's so fond of me in private: Nay, Faith, out Humours jump to a hair, she'll rail to a Miracle, and you know I love railing mightily. But do you resolve to quit Basset?

Dam it, 'twas invented by the Levellers, and suited to all Capa­cities; 'tis the Devil and all, to lose always to Fools.

I always to lose too, but witty Men,

You know, are seldom lucky.

I must to my Lodgings; send some Rouleaus to the Bank, to pay my damn'd Debts, and learn to be wiser for the future: Shall I have your Honour's Company?

Jesu! Mr. Granger, I beg you Ten Thousand Pardons; I co­vet no Man's Company so much as yours; but I must go to Sir Feminine Fanviles, drink Tea at Siam's, and then to the Levees of three Privy Counsellors.

You're a necessary Man to 'em.

Why, really, bar Sir Faminine, there's not a Man in Town carries 'em fresher News.

Nay, he's a Prodigy of Intelligence.

And very well with the Ministry, upon my word:

No matter who's in play, he sticks to the Offices, and not the Men; there's not a word spoken in the Play-House, Chocolate-House, or Drawing-Room, but he gives 'em an account of.

You forget the Coffee-Houses.

O filthy! he leaves them to such as can endure the stink of Tobacco: No, he's too delicate for that, and I believe nothing less than the betraying the Secrets of a bosom Friend, cou'd perswade him to speak to a Man that came out of one: I went to him from visiting an Old Aunt, that was taking a Pipe:

The Smoak, I believe, got into my Perriwig, but he smelt me out imme­diately, and made his Valet de Chambre turn me down stairs; I must say that for him:

Nay, I vow he's an extraordinary fine Gentleman,

And knows a Fool, as well—

As your Lordship.

Yes, I vow now, does he: Gad so, 'tis almost Eight a Clock, So dear Mr. Granger, and Mr. Gayman, your Servant;

You'll be at my Aunt Susan's this Afternoon; 'tis her day you know.

Infallibly, my Lord.

What luck's this, Child? to win of Sir Limber Lowly, and my Lady Sinker, (both desperate Debts) lose all our ready Money, besides a Sum to Granger.

Did Mr. Granger win? I came in late, you know.

Upon my Life, Child, we owe him a Hundred and Fifty Pound.

I take your word, Madam, but indeed I thought he had been a Loser, I'm sure he fretted at the usual rate.

You mistake him, Child, 'tis his Humour, he's as hard to please, as a Sick Monkey; and when he is;

It fits as awkardly upon him, at a French Suit on a young Spaniard, newly set out to Travel.

Mr. Granger's Man's to wait on your Ladiship.

Tell him I'm gone to Bed, bid him come after Dinner, and the

Money shall be ready—

He's strangely pressing; methinks

He might have stay'd 'till next Basset—

Now if this Fellow be Fool enough not to understand me, and shou'd bring in the Money, all will be discover'd.

Madam, he says, Mr. Granger

Gives his Service to your Ladyship, and has sent

You the Hundred and Fifty Pounds he lost to the Bank.

Well, this sitting up does so prey upon the memory:

Why, I durst ha' sworn we ow'd him that Sum:

Well, Child, as't happens, this is no ill Night to thee.

Thanks to the timely Message—

They come so seldom, but Mr. Granger's the most punctual Man.

He's every way a Man of Honour.

So Waspish, there's no living with him:

Of all things, he's my aversion.

I must be better satisfy'd of that, before I believe you.

He's sometimes Splenetick indeed, but 'tis thro' so much good Sense, and Breeding, 'tis rarely seen, and always diverting.

Dear Maria, how can you say this? Did you ever know him Offer at a Civil thing? No, 'tis an arrant Churl:

And for the Honour you mention, Mr. Garnish,

He talks too much of it, to have more than his share.

I'll not dispute his Character with you:

Shall we meet anon at my Lady Susans?

I'll not fail you, Child, she's one of the Gang.

I take my leave.

Adieu Maria, adieu dear Child—

Why what a Credulous Creature this is!

Lord, Madam, how can you impose so upon your Friend?

Tell me of Friendship, no, as my Lord says

There's no true Friend, but Mony—

How, Madam?

And your self. But let us get as much Money as we can; 'twill secure your Friendship to me.

It cannot need such a security—Well, Madam, You have reconcil'd me to some things—for your Service.

And for your own, good Sir.

That I cou'd never have thought on, for my self.

And you have perswaded me to another thing—

For both our Services.

That I wou'd ha' done for no body else.

There's no repenting of any thing I can do, for you,

Or with you; I am a Slave to all your Interests,

Employ your Cunning, I'll assist your Arts;

Cheat all your Friends, but me.

Cheat you?

Has Mr. Granger done any thing to make him your aversion?

You won't allow him to be a Man of Honour;

Have you a mind to put him to the Tryal?

When you refuse a Man a Commendation that every body gives him, you must pardon me, [Page 9] If I think, 'tis for some private reason of your own:

Besides, I never knew a Woman declare an unreasonable aversion for a Man in publick, that had not a mind to have a better opinion of him in private.

What, you are jealous of him?

Not jealous, Madam: But 'tis a weakness to be too secure: While I rally'd to the Company, I had my Eyes about me, and indeed by what you lookt, or did, or said to him, I cou'd not find out your aversion.

A very Boyish jealousie indeed! He lost to us, And I was civil to him; nay, civil to his losses, not to him:

I can do more to serve the common cause,

So certain to our Interest—

I do believe you can do what you please; and I'll watch your pleasure—

Is your Lord stirring yet, Florence?

He has been in his Dressing-Room this half hour, Madam.

Then 'tis as I wou'd have it; and a fair time for me to go to Bed—I come—

Shall we meet this Afternoon?

Not this Afternoon, I have Business; hardly this Week I fear: I hope I've satisfied your jealousie: you don't know enough of me—

I do know enough, enough to satisfie me,

There's no knowing more than she has a mind to:

And all the knowledge our weak search can find,

But proves, there is no knowing Womankind.

SCENE I.

PRithee leave sidling, 'tis well enough.

Madam, you wou'd have your things sit handsomly.

Decently, I wou'd; what you call handsomly, is a niceness, wou'd as ill become me, as a Sultana did a fat body, or a high Commode a lean Face; and only serve to make my decays more remarkable.

Will you please to use the Wash.—

I use the Wash! A Woman turn'd of fifty, was ne're design'd to be lookt upon: I may Wash, and Patch, and please my self; cheat my hopes, with the dayly expence of Plaister, and Repairs; No body will take the Tenement off my hands. Men use us, as we use our Spectacles, to draw the Object nearer to the [Page 10] Sense: Indeed we are the fittest means, to guide and light their dark de­signs home to their ends on younger Women. No matter for the Cha­racter; I live by them, and they shall Love by me.

While I am Mistress of Malepert's Beauty, I am not very sensible of the loss of my own: For her sake I will be Courted: I have so many how­d'yees, and invitations in the Morning upon her account; so many visits in the Afternoon; and so many Bows in the Drawing-Room at Night.

For her sake you have so many Rafflings, and whoever throws most, you win the prize: For her sake, my proud Lord Lofty, who scarce bows to Heaven, cringes to you, and for her sake the whole Town calls you Bawd.

Time has been, when by the merits of my own Face—but

I had almost forgot, Madam, Mrs. Lucy was here this Morning, and desires you to remember Mr. Oglewell of the Temple.

She may rest her self contented; he is not for her turn: Mrs. Siam sent her Maid to his Chambers yesterday, in the Afternoon too, his Man deny'd him at first, but afterwards confest, his Master was in Bed with a fine Gentlewoman (one of the common fine things of the Town—I suppose) and wou'd not be disturb'd.

How, Madam! pretend to marry Mrs. Lucy for Love, and be in Bed with another!

Nay, now, he'll hardly marry for Love, since he has found a remedy for Love, without marrying.

Base Man! does not he fear a Judgment will follow him? Had it been a Match, I was to have 50 Pound of her, for putting your Lady­ship in mind of it.

And did the Fool believe I wou'd turn Match-maker in my Old Age?

Why, Madam, 'tis no such Dishonourable Character.

But 'tis Ridiculous, and that's worse: No, give me an Office, where I may have thanks for what I do: Go, get the Chocolate—and remember I am at home to no body, but Lady Malepert.

'Tis near the time she was to call me for the India-Houses, she turns to more account, than any of my former Acquaintance: She has hitherto been rul'd by me: And I will keep her out of those Gentlemens hands, if I can, who, by engaging her, as deep as they can, into their Interest, will certainly, as soon as they can, take her out of mine. If I may believe her, no body but Lord Lofty has yet been happy: He grows weary of presenting; and must give place to Gamesters, that bid more: Sir Ruff Rancounter offers very fair: While I can keep her to Men, where she can like nothing but their Money, I am safe:

Therefore that Brute shall have her:

But Gayman loves her: She likes him too:

And when the Parties are so far agreed; there's but little work for a third

Person, to bring 'em together. I fear Gayman,

As I shou'd a French Privateer, in the Channel, without a Convoy, and [Page 11] all my Fortune on board one Vessel: For he's a Master of those thriving Arts, and little Rogueries, that cheat, and please the Women: Then to his Person, Wit, and Industry, he has a certain respectful Impudence in his Behaviour, few Women can find fault with, or resist.

Before I cou'd give your Orders to deny you, Lord Lofty was told you were at home.

This must be by Malepert's appointment.

Wait on him up.

But now he's out at Court, he shall soon be so with her.

How! Mr. Gayman!

'Tis well you nam'd me, Madam; by the strangeness of your look, I was afraid you had forgot me.

I am surpriz'd you shou'd use another Name, to be admitted here; where I command you shall always be welcome.

I was sure the Name I borrow'd, wou'd carry me through this Fa­mily.

Your own can do as much.

Then 'tis since his disgrace: For, not three days ago, when you deny'd your self to every body, and to me, among the crowd of your unseasonoble Vi­siters, my Lord Lofty and Lady Malepert, were notoriously above stairs with you; above stairs, in private with you; with you, or without you.

How, Mr. Gayman! notoriously at my House?

Why, yes Faith, Madam, it was very notorious:

And you were so little cautious of concealing it,

Their Pages were at Play, all the afternoon, before the Door: It made a Jest for every body that went by; and wou'd have been apprehended by the very blind Cuckold himself, had he hapned in the way.

'Tis very well, Sir; now you show your self.

Why, Faith, I can't help it; I must show my self,

Upon these occasions; 'tis every Honest Man's cause, and duty to be concern'd to find the best things so abus'd; to see a young Ladies Pleasures fall so soon, into the Contempt and Scandal of the Town, thro' indiscretion, or mismannage­ment:

I don't tax you of either: But the World.—

I defie the World—

The Flesh, and the Devil too, good Madam:

But they'l get the better of us all.

And you, the worst of Devils. What of the World?

Why People you know are apt to prate:

And when a Woman of Experience, as you may be, engages in these Affairs, the World expects a Conduct suitable to your Grave Character:

All the miscarriages of an Intriegue are lay'd on you, the Lovers are call'd Fools;

And you have a, worsec Name.

I see you come to rail, I laugh at you.

I came to make you merry: Laugh with me, if you please; we'll Laugh at other People:

While he was in favour, I grant you, he might be a Friend; and there was

Reason good for serving him:

But I know you are truer to the interest of the Drawing-Room, than to think any Man, that's in disgrace, can be a Friend.

Since my Good Lord is down, ev'n let him lye,

Another Man may rise out of his fall:

You can't want Friends:

I have a hard-harted Father must dye at last;

And then I can be what you think a Friend,

Able to come up to your price of thanks: Come,

Not to get a habit of it, do a generous thing,

And let me once speak well of you.

Very well.

Come, come, I'm in the secret, and therefore fittest to be trusted now: the Lady's an out-lying Deer; I know, you have been accessary to some of her scapes already; and can help her over the Pale, upon occasion again, to serve a Friend, Mrs. Wishwell.

We are both beholden to you.

If I am not to be oblig'd to her, upon your account,

'Tis but staying till my Betters are serv'd,

And then, as you mannage matters,

Every Man may hope to have her in his turn.

Madam, my Lady Malepert's coming up.

How, Madam!

To hear how kindly you can speak of her.

Forgive what I have said, my Fortune, Interest, Life, and all you shall command.

I wou'd command your Tongue.

Thou Charming Creature!

Befor ever thus, thus Dear, thus Young, thus ever killing Fair?

Dear Wishwell, I fear I have tir'd thy patience.

Doting to this degree, I needs must languish: But now l have you thus.—

Flattering Devil!

My passionate Gallant!

That Title you may allow me, without injuring your Lord—

There the question hangs.

How! Mr. Gayman! you're a Stranger here.

I'm sorry for that, Madam; I am every where an humble Servant of your Ladyships.

Wou'd the Devil had her for coming so unseasonably:

I can't avoid leaving 'em together: But the opportunity shall do him little good:

Your Ladyship will allow me a minute, and I'll be with you agen—

That minute must be mine: And let a minute tell you,

What all my Life can ne're enough explain, how much I value you.

I wont believe 'tis from your own Design, that I'm thus us'd:

I know I've Enemies, but wonnot think you can be one of 'em.

I ne're can be your Enemy.

O, no! they're outward all, not near this tender Breast,

And most unworthy to possess your Heart;

That Heart, which once you said, was wholly mine.

And was not that a fault?

It was, to break your word.

Why, did I say so?

Because then it pleas'd you, to speak a Truth that charm'd me to be yours: And yours I must be, use me as you will:

But being yours.

Why, did I meet you here?

To tell me where I next shall meet you.

Why will you press me thus to what will ruine me?

With Wishwell, I wou'd have it.—

If you can think it fit.—

There's nothing fit without you.

At Siam's, this Afternoon, we Raffle there.

I Raffle for a Heart.—

Mrs. Siam, you're in your round of Visitation, I see.

I joy to find your Ladyship here: I have the sweetest things;

I have 'em in the next room to shew you. Good Lord!

Mr. Gayman! how came you here? Who-ever's the better for your Company,

I'm sure, I shall have no reason to thank you for't, at this time.

Nor I neither, Pox take him—

Why, what's the matter, pray?

The matter! why, a Jealous, Old, Coxcombly Fellow, (that ought to be a Cuckold, if I had Womanhood enough about me, to make him one) is matter enough for all the misfortunes, that can fall upon a Woman, of my publick Employment.

What! my Noble Captain Drydrubb, your Husband?

Ay, ay, the Nobel Captain, as you call him:

Wou'd he were a Captain now, to be Commanded into Flanders, that I might hope to be rid of him

But I'm ev'n well enough serv'd, I must have a Souldier, with a Pox to him: a Man of Honour, as he calls hpimself, to Command me: One, that has out­liv'd the memory of being a Corporal, in the Civil Wars; and has borrow'd the Title of a Captain, only to run in Debt with.

He's Man of Honour enough, to be jealous it seems.

Yes, yes, he's Jealous enough to be a Man of Honour, if that will make him one: But he's Jealous of himself, I suppose, and his own Honour; and that makes him Jealous of me, and mine: But l've a plaguy Life with him, that's the Truth on't;

He follows me all over the Town,

Dogs me wherever I go: All this live-long Morning

He has been at my heels: He says I run a gadding after the Fellows, and if he finds out my Haunts, he swears he'l pepper me: Now if he has seen your Servants at the Door, the whole World shall never perswade him, but I came upon an Assignation with your Worship; and 'twill hardly be in the power of a Guinny, to make him quiet again.

Poor Siam! I vow she has a dismal time on't:

A dismal time on't, indeed, if your Ladyship knew all; but for Gods-sake, Mr. Gayman, as you tender the Reputation, and quiet of a poor Wo­man, that have been Younger in my time, be so kind now—

Well, Mrs. Siam, I will be so kind.

Else this overcharg'd Blunderbuss, will have the Impudence to come in, and let flye among the Ladies.

I'le deliver you this time from his Jealousie;

I am a Slave to the Interest of your Sex:

Your Servant, Ladies.—

Well, this Mr. Gayman is a civil Gentleman in appearance, and that's as much as a Lady can desire in a Young Man: Truly I'm oblig'd to him.

Shall I bring in the Stuffs, Madam? They are the newest things; I'm sure they'l please your Ladyship.

Some of your stale Ware, Siam.

Upon the Faith of a Christian, Madam, they never saw this side of the World yet; they're just out of the Indian House, and never were open'd to any one, but this Morning, to my Lady Kill-Chairman; She indeed is my very good Customer, and bought four pieces of 'em for a Mantoa.

For her whole Family sure, four pieces!

We'll look upon 'em, in the next Room, if you please.

But, Siam, what have you done about our Raffle?

Are there Subscribers enow?

I want but one, Madam: I have got a very Honest Generous Gentle­man, to make one, Sir Ruff Rancounter;

If he wins, he'll scorn to carry any thing out of the Company; some of the

Ladies will be the better for him.

Leave these things to me: The Men I provide for you, at my House, shall be Men of Honour, I assure you, and for the purpose you design 'em.

What purpose can such a Beast, as Rancounter, be design'd for among the Women?

Why, like a Beast, to bear the burthen of your Expences upon your Pleasures.

None but such Beasts will bear 'em: Think on that.

I hate him.

I wou'd not have you Love him: Love your self,

And then you'l Love nothing but your Interest.

Come, come, a 1000 Pounds may answer for the Man:

'Tis but suffering a little of his Company; and why not a little of his, as well as more of your Husbands?

They're Beasts alike: Only this, in proportion, bids more to be receiv'd by you.

Then he can do you no Injury, either in your Quiet, or your Fame: For you can no more be in Love with him, (which is a great Blessing in these Affairs) than the Town can think, you ever allow'd him, to be in Love with you, and is not a Thousand Pound, a round Summ, for doing so little, and suffering nothing?

But why shou'd I do any thing against my Inclinations? I don't want the Money.

Madam, Madam, every Woman wants a Thousand Pound:

And for your Inclinations, if you allow them to get the better of you, you are undone:

There are a great many pretty Gentlemen to be had;

But what will you get by any of 'em in the end?

Just so much Experience, and Repentance for your pains: You may be in

Love with a Man, that has it in his Temper to be in Love with half the

Town; as all the Young Men are.

And how will it agree with the Pleasure of your Pride,

Or the pride of your Pleasure, to be forsaken?

No, no, no Love: We'll learn that of the Men:

For Love is Nature's Appetite Diseas'd:

Where we have no Concern, we're always pleas'd.

SCENE II.

St. Iames's Park.

Did you see, Lord Malepert?

What! must it be a Tilt, Sir Ruff?

No, no, hang Fighting among Friends:

I have other Business for him; of another Nature,

Gentlemen; I make Love to his Wife.

How? how? pray recollect your self.

Nay, not that I think her any better than her Chambermaid: 'Tis the Woman does my business, and not the Lady: I had rather have a prudent Practiser of the Trade, to use as I think fit; than a Gentlewoman (that only does it now and then, for her Diversion) to use me as she pleases.

But, you know, a Man in this Town, is no body, without the Reputation of a

Quality-Entriegue:

And all that I do it for, is to talk of in Company;

And be better respected by the Women:

For you know, they generally judge,

Just as other Women have judg d before 'em.

But if the Entriegue be only on your side.

Sir, I wou'd have you to know, 'tis on her side too:

Gayman, thou art a pretty Fellow, and shalt be my Confident: There's no Living, without Communicating matters of this kind, to have both parties the better for 'em.

But, Mr Garnish, to convince you,

The Husband's strangely fond of me, and you know,

That always proceeds from the good Opinion of the Wife.

I may make use of this.

But besides, I have made Madam Wishwell, my Friend:

It costs me Money indeed; but she takes the troublesome part off my Hands: She makes Love for me; I'm only to stand by what she says:

She sends me word, we are to Raffle at Siam's in the Afternoon.

But, my Lord, and you are fall'n out.

That's no matter, if I cou'd meet him.

Here he comes, ready for your purpose.

Give me thy Hand, dear Bully; Faith, I'm sorry you provok'd me to use you so untowardly.

Really, Sir Ruff, and so am I, with all my Heart, I meant no harm, I vow and swear: If I had not thought you my Friend, I wou'd not have pretended to be witty in your Company:

But Faith, and Troth, you were bloody Angry.

Come, come, shall we Dine together?

With all my Heart; upon Condition, you'l go with me to Siam's in the afternoon.

Nay, that's but reasonable.—

Then be it so; I'le go along with you.

Well, Siam's the best Woman in the World:

She's the rarest Company, and has all the News.

Then she's so fond of me, that I verily believe I spend above a Thousand a

Year at her House.

Nay, Faith, then you have Reason.

I vow, I shou'd be the worst Man in the World,

If I did not Love her,

She has done so handsomely by my Wife.

As how, pray?

Why, she heard a Noble Lord, and a Great Man at Whitehall, say, he was in Love with her: And what do you think this good Creature did?

Why, pray perhaps, that she might resist the Temptation.

O Foolish! pray? No, quite contrary:

She came to her next morning, and told her of it;

That she might be sure to avoid him.

No doubt, that was the Reason.

But, my Lord, you are not there so often as you us'd.

Why since her Marriage, the House is turn'd upside down: what do People Marry for, but to live easy with every body? When there's no danger of a Rival.

Methinks a Man should think every one his Friend:

I'm sure 'tis the Maxim of my Family.

It should be the Maxim of every Man, That's Born to your Fortune, my Lord.

But the Old Captain, you must know, has got it into his Head, to be Jealous of me, and is grown so troublesome; he can't endure a Witty Man shou'd come into his Doors.

You have giv'n him Cause, my Lord.

Nay indeed, if Mrs. Siam was to be had, I believe, I stand as fair for her, as any body:

But I never had the least dishonourable Thought of her;

Never saw any thing bare of her, above her Knee:

An inviolable Friendship I must own for her;

I Love her mightily.

I thought there was something in't.

Ay, ay, no doubt on't. But we shall lose our Dinner.

Nay, I wou'd not lose my Dinner for more than I'le speak of, at this time: my Wife is very regular at her Meal:

If I chance to lose a Meal, she says,

I an't my own Man agen in a week after.

Nor your Wife's neither, my Lord; come let's be gone.

'Tis almost One: Granger said he wou'd be here.

That Friend of yours, is a pleasant, snarling Fellow, And a good Companion: 'Tis pity he's so very peevish.

He has a Thousand good Qualities, but they have all a tang of his testy Humour, that shows it self in all he says, and does; like a drop of Oyl left it a Flask of Wine, in every Glass you taste it.

Here the Gentleman comes to answer for himself.

Sir, my Lord, commanded me to tell you, Company Dines with him, And he desires you'd please to be there.

Well, well.

Well, well.

Zounds! a Man had as good be ty'd to a Stake, and baited like Tom Dove, on an Easter Monday, as be the necessary appurtenance of a Great Man's Table; they make me as much their own, as if I were part of their side-board.

What's the matter, Mr. Granger?

Why in such a Passion?

Passion! why they use me, as if I had none about me:

They won't let me be my own Man 24 Hours together.

That's hard indeed: But pray, who does encroach upon your Liberty?

Who? Why who shou'd dare? But they who may do any thing: Here's the new Favourite Summons me to Dine with him: He sends me word there will be Company; and, I suppose, designs to serve me up, as part of the Entertainment.

Now, wou'd many an Honest Fellow be proud of this Invitation, and think his Fortune made by't.

Why, I have known many an Honest Fellow proud of the Pox; but my Ambition does not lye that way, nor my Inclination at present: But thither I must go, tho' I was engag'd to my Ld. Lofty.

Will he admit of no excuse?

No, plague on't, his Messages are like Subpaena's; I may stay away, if I think fit; but I shall pay a swinging Fine for my con­tempt.

'Tis not a Month since he was in your Favour, and Lofty cou'd not get a good word from you.

And 'tis not yet a Fortnight, since he was mean enough to accept of an Employment; and Lofty had the Soul to part with three.

Sure, Granger, thou lovest a nodding wall; that will bury thee in its ruins;

Tho' it never gave thee shelter, while it stood:

As no one was the better for Lofty's Greatness, methinks it shou'd be difficult to be concern'd for his Disgrace:

I'm sure I'le condole with no Man, that wou'd never give me cause to rejoice with him.

He mended every day.

No Faith, he kept up his Character to the last:

And had his Politicks, and Honesty, been put into the Scale, the ballance had been even.

This is ungenerous.

'Tis what you have said of him, within this Month, and still the Man's the fame.

If you must rail, let the new Favourite be the Subject.

Why, what's his fault?

Why, he's a Favourite; that will make faults, if it find none.

You may distinguish the Man from the Favourite: [Page 19] He's ne're the worse for having it in his power to do good Offices:

Besides his Company's good; his Table easie; and, Granger, he has al­ways been a friend to you.

A Friend to me! A Tyrant. Has he not carry'd me about, like Bajazet; and made me talk too?

Zounds! does he take me for a Parrot? the Bird deserves his meat, and cleaning of his Cage; that talks for't. You, who love the Company, and Tyranny of Courtiers, much good may do you with it: For my part, 'tis a Hell to me; and I'll keep out on't, as long as I can—

Do'st: talk of Hell, Old Boy? There's a Parson in the bottom on't

I believe: For there's no Hell, no Purgatory, no Devil, but of the Cler­gy's providing.

What! thou hast Marry'd some old libidinous Gentlewoman?—

Not I indeed, Sir; I have occasion sufficient to be out of hu­mour; without having a Wife, Young, or Old, to provoke me: You must guess agen.

Not I, Sir, I shan't guess agen: You may have it, for the keep­ing, if you won't tell us what's the matter with you:

But you say you're a Whore-Master?

Not I, Sir.

Not you, Sir, why may be then you are not so honest a Man:

But if you are not a Marry'd Man, you must be a Whore-Master: And why you shou'd be out of humour, who carry all the Women before you,

I can't tell: Cuckoldy Husbands indeed, that come after you, have some­thing to provoke 'em: Grant us patience, I say.

Why how now, Captain?

Why how now! ha! are you there, Sir?

Can't all the Town suffice you, Sir? but you must be running after my Domestick, ferriting in my Borrough?

I, Captain?

Yes, you, no Captain: For all your cunning, I have found out your haunt, your meeting place: Will no less a Bawd, than Mrs. Wish­well, serve your turn? But I see the Ambition of the Boy; by Pompey, I smoke you: Why, what an Impudent Fellow are you to think of making a Cuckold of a Captain?

Did you ever hear of a Captain, that was a Cuckold, Sir?

'Twas in the Parliament Army, if you did, that I can tell you.

A Parliament Captain might be a Cuckold indeed;

But 'twas because he had not the King's Commission, to protect his Wife then.

There were some Cuckolds in that Army, I believe, who made use of their Horns to toss the Cavaliers out of the Kingdom.

But I was always on the King's side—

Beaten? Capt. Beaten! ay, sometimes beaten, Sir:

'Tis no such wonder for a Captain to be beaten, I hope:

But I'll not be a Cuckold, Sir, not be beaten by a Distaff, a Wife: Have [Page 20] I brought my Honour from Edghill, both the Newbury's and Marston­Moor, nay, and from Worcester too, to lose in an Indian House? Then Fortune is my Foe,

Faith, Captain, your Honour's safe for me:

But I cou'd tell you.

What can you tell me, Sir, I know enough already;

And more than I care to know.

Why, I cou'd tell you, who attempts your Honour,

If you had temper to hear me—

Temper to hear you! why I'm as temperate a Tom-titt; as mild as May: Prithee tell me, good Boy, who?

Nay, now you're engag'd in Honour to tell him.

I am loath to make a Division among Friends;

But I must acquit my self, and truly I have observ'd some winks, and passing familiarities between Lord Malepert, and your Wife.

Nay, I thought there was no good towards, in his coming so often to the House: But does that snivelling Pea-Chick think to make a Cuckold of me? Who have seen all the service of Christendom, from the meeting the Scotch Army at Coldstream, to the merry meeting at Hounslow-Heath.

Nay, I have seen Mrs. Wishwell carry Whispers between 'em.

I'll demolish, by Pompey, I'll break her Windows and turn over my old Punk to the Sessions, to answer the Battery: But for that beardless, shambling, whay-fac'd—

They are to raffle at our House this Afternoon:

This is Wishwell's design to bring 'em together;

But I shall part them with a Clap of Thunder, by Pompey.

Well said, old Baskitbilt.

Yes, faith, I'll swinge 'em: I remember your Dammee-Boys, your Swashes, your Tuquoques, and your Titire-Tues: Have us'd the Fleece, and Speering's: Thrown Clunch at a whole Table, where half of 'em­wore Velvet Patches: Had drank my Tun of Brandy, before this puleing Puppy's Father tasted Milk. I'll ransack 'em, by Pompey.

Can we assist you, Captain?

Not that I care what any Man can do with the old Jade:

But I won't be a Cuckold, in my Old Age, Gentlemen, I won't be a Cuck­old: I can make a thrust still—fa—fa—

All vigour to the stump!

And, by Pompey, they shall find I am.

Will you dine with us, Captain?

Dine with you! you must lend me a Guinny then,

One little Guinny; or I must go home to the old Iezebel, and compound for a Cuckoldom,

By staying abroad as long as she pleases.

Here's that shall prevent it.

God a Mercy, Boy!

By Pompey, now the day's agen, our own: [Page 21] We'll go, and cherish our selves with a good Dinner,

Some Wine, and much Nants,

And then resolv'd for War, we'll boldly try,

Who beats up my Wife's Quarters, he, or I.

SCENE I.

Lady Susan's Lodgings.

COme, dear Maria—

Your Ladyship's Lodgings are so neat!

Siam and I fancy'd all the Furniture:

We ran about to Shops three days together:

I love running about mightily.

True, Nephew, you paid Coach hire; but I vow, Maria, 'twas every bit of it my own fancy.

'Tis very well fancy'd: and every thing in such Order!

O law! you know 'tis my day; and then Mr. Granger and the rest of 'em will certainly be here.

Granger's a Wit: He and I are very great;

And I love a Wit mightily.

Well, Madam, you're oblig'd to Mr. Granger.

O Jesu! but, dear Maria, tell me,

When, where, and how; I long to know.

Last Night at my Lady Malepert's.

Yes, I vow, and my Wife srump'd all the while, and yet did not say one word.

Well, go on, dear Child, I'm impatient—

He said you were the only Lady in Town that understood Be­haviour, and good Breeding.

O law! and did he?

Yes, I vow, our Family was always remarkable for good breeding.

Dear Nephew, don't interrupt her: Well, dear Child—

He said Experience had ripen'd you to Woman—

Yes, I vow, my Aunt was five and forty last Lammas.

Nay, Nephew, know when to hold your Tongue: Come, Maria—

But that of all things, he despis'd those unfledg'd Creatures; the Town calls Beauties, a Company of unexperienc'd Girls, without the know­ledge of Conversation, in which your Ladyship excell'd.

Nay, my Aunt can talk as much as the best of us.

O Crimine! this was strangely obliging.

Then he said you had the sweetest Page; and he was always drest so prettily—

Poor dear Iano. And did he like the Child? He shall see him in his Night-Gown.

But you forget, Maria, he said happy the Man that were in that Child's place; and figh'd so sillily—

Then looking scornfully at all the the Ladies—

Yes, and upon my Wife too; I assure you, she took it bloody ill of him.

He swore no Lady had Charms like yours, nor set 'em off so well—

He has not seen me in my new Mantoa yet.

Then rav'd on your Complexion; and for your Eye-brows—

O law! I hope he knows nothing of them.

They were the Strings of Cupid's Bow;

Your Eyes the only Arrows.

And did he say all this?

Yes, and laught at you.

Yes, I vow, did he, and really was very foolish—

To see how out of countenance we were to hear it.

Madam, Mr. Granger and Mr. Gayman are coming up.

Lord! what shall I do?

What! afraid to be seen with your Aunt?

No, I vow now, I an't afraid: but I wou'd not have my Wife know it for the World tho'.

Well, Nephew, go into my Closet:

There's Quarles upon the Japan Table for you.

What the Book with Pictures! nay, then, 'tis well enough; I'll go in, divert my self.

Divert himself! Jesu! did you ever hear such an unseemly Ex­pression before Ladies?

Unseemly, Madam!

O law! Child, he had even as good ha' told us what he was going about: But, dear Maria, pull down my Mantoa; they're just a coming.

Mr. Granger, Mr. Gayman, your humble Servant.

I never saw any thing so pretty as your Ladyships Sconces.

You're so obliging: And how do you like'em, Mr. Granger?

As they are your Ladyship's I must admire 'em.

They were made in France, I assure you, by Madam's own Workman—Child, bid my Woman set Chairs—

Wou'd we might have her Company, instead of the Ladies.

Your Ladyship's Woman's very pretty.

And has a World of Wit, I assure you.

There's no body so much set off by a handsom Woman, as your Ladyship.

O law! that's particular—

But, Mr. Granger, do you think her pretty?

By reflection from your Ladyship.

Still paticular—

Mr. Granger, shall I beg a word with you?

'Tis Business; I hope the Company will pardon me.

What an affected doating Fool's this? How can you bear her?

I must be civil to her for the sake of her Relations.

You'll be at Siam's about five.

I'll not fail.

I'll ask for you—

Never to be forgiv'n—

But, Mr. Gayman, have you seen the Stuffs at Siam's? there are three or four the sweetest Pieces: I bought the Red and Silver for a Night Gown.

'Twill certainly become your Ladyship.

Pinks and Lillies: exactly her Complexion.

O law! Sir! Well, I wonder Trickitt is not come yet; I have seen her almost these two hours: But, Jesu! there's a Coach stopt; I hope 'tis hers.

'Tis my Lady Trickitt's; she's just Landed.

Landed! pray mind, Mr. Granger, how prettily he expresses it; he says she's Landed.

Proper, and apt indeed, were it out of a Kennel.

Su—

Trickit—

Dear, dear Creature!

Dear; dear Suky!

How the Monkies cling together!

Well, Trickitt, this was Barbarously done, I vow and swear now, neither to see me, nor let me hear from thee in two whole hours: As I hope to breathe now, I was just going to write thee a Scolding Letter.

Nothing but Business, and my Lord's Commands could have prevented me.

Mr. Garnish, your Servant.

O, Mr. Garnish! you can tell us: Does Sir Symphony hold forth to Night?

He'll tell you himself immediately, Madam: I met him at the end of the Street; and he told me, he had but five Visits to make in his way hither, and wou'd be with you in an Instant.

Well, I vow, 'tis a Civil Gentleman.

You speak of him with some concern, Madam.

Who, I, Sir? no I vow, a filthy unmannerly Fellow,

And if he had not the Fiddles, now and then, wou'd be good for nothing.

I abhor him, I vow I do: O law! what had I like to ha' done?

Your Ladyship, and Lady Trickitt design to be at his Musick, I hope, notwithstanding this aversion?

What! on my day? Jesu! Mr. Granger, what do you take me [Page 24] for? Yet I love Musick to an extravagance, I vow now; but the World,Mr. Granger, what wou'd the World say?

You're above their Censure, Madam: the receiv'd Opinion of your good breeding will justify your Ladyship in any thing.

Jesu! Trickitt, how Mr. Granger mistakes the matter?

'Tis not that I fear to commit an errour in good breeding,

Not I, I assure you; but if I shou'd be so light, to go to publick Places, when all the World is sensible 'tis my day, they must needs think 'twere an Assignation, and that for a Lady of my Quality—

Ladies, your most obeysant

Servant: I'm come to you with an invitation from the Muses; all the

World have promised me the honour of their Company; and yet if I am refus'd your Ladyships, I shall think my House a Solitude.

You can have no Company of mine to Night, Sir:

I must use him scurvily before Mr. Granger,

Else he may be jealous; and I would not have 'em quarrel here for the World.

Cruel Creature! But is there no hopes, Madam?

Nay, Sir, pray be quiet; Lord, can't you let a body alone? pray what have I to do with your hopes? Really, Mr. Granger, this Fellow is a forward impertinent Fop, so he is.

I hope, Madam, his forwardness does not proceed from any en­couragement you have given him?

Jesu! Sir, I give a Man encouragement!

I only speak my Fears, Madam.

You're so Obliging, Sir—

Well, this is past dispute.

What have you there, Sir Symphony?

I'll follow you immediately—

I'll take my time—

Madam, Mrs. Prattle has sent

Her servant, to desire your Ladyship to carry her to the Park to morrow Night.

How prettily the Child delivers his Message?

She's a most Exquisite Lady, and one—

I did not ask your Opinion, Sir.

I find I am unfortunate to day, and will walk off with my dis­grace, in hopes of better times—

But your Opinion, Gentlemen, you are Judges.

She says a great deal, Madam—

And very well too, I vow, and swear now;

But what say you, Mr. Granger?

Faith, I think she's all talk, and no Company.

O law! Why she plays at little Games to a miracle.

The blind Horse is fittest for the Mill.

She's a Lady of great Acquaintance.

Nay, she's the universal Crony of the Sex:

Not a Female from Thirteen, to Five and Thirty, can be a Week in Town, without a Visit from her, which makes her very convenient to her Male Relations.

O law! Mr. Granger! I vow I believe her as Virtuous as my self; but then she Sings, and Plays upon the Virginals so sweetly, and Dances Country Dances.

Nay, doubtless she has all her motions to a miracle; and for Ioan Saunderson—

O Law! Mr. Granger, you're so strangely S'terical:

I believe you laugh at us all behind our backs.

Fools I laugh at to their faces:

But such as your Ladyship—

O Jesu! Mr. Granger.

Wit, Beauty, and Good Breeding, Madam, command respect; 'twas Death to touch the Ark.

Well, he's strangely obliging!—

What, leaving us already, Mr. Gayman?

Business calls me from my pleasure, Madam.

I'm sure there's something in't—

Mr. Granger, you are melancholly, o'th' sudden,

Are not you well? will you have some of my Milk-water?

My Fever's in the Spirits, Madam.

Nay, there's something extraordinary;

We all observe a Change, Sir.

I'll lay my life, he's in Love, Child.

I hope he is, to be reveng'd of him;

Well, is it so, Mr. Granger?

In Company, like this, 'tis difficult to live without a Passion—

The Confession's but too plain;

Tho' she mistakes it.

Why so sullen, Sir?

Have I not Cause?

You mistake it, but I shall find a time.

I shall find it for you.

We interrupt the Ladies.

Let's take the hint, and leave 'em—

Wou'd that be an Errour in his Judgment?

What! a good Estate?

I Crimine! I see I must be plain with thee:

But did not you observe how Civil he was to me?

'Twas his good Breeding.

But from a Man, that's thought morose—

'Tis a sign of a clear Skie;

No Clouds to raise the Spleen.

In short he loves me, and has e'en as good as told me so:

And I vow and swear I design to let him know his Passion is not unsuccess­ful: I have a Plot upon him:

My pretty little Iano shall visit him, as of himself, the Child shall give him my Song, and tell him, all the Servants say, he's in Love with me, and that you know will force a Declaration.

No doubt, Child.

Well, we shall so laugh: And then you come to visit my Lady Susan Granger—and then I return thy visit, and your Servant tells you, my Lady Susan Granger's Page has sent up word, his Lady's just a landing from her Chair—and then you say, your Ladyships, my Dear, is the prettyest Equipage in Town—and then I say—well I shall be so happy:

For Mr. Granger resolves to eat in Plate.

Has he told you so?

Jesu! no; but then he laughs at all the Fools; And will bring me home the Lampoons: But I must instruct the Child; come hither Iano: Prithee, md Dear, pardon me a little.

Why my Lord, Lord Malepert.

O law! Aunt! what's the matter?

Why did you leave the Door unlockt?

I'm sure I made the back Door so fast, that Mrs. Iudy cou'd not get in, for all she had the Key: And I thought you had been old enough, to look to your fore-dore your self. I'll swear, if I had thought you wou'd serve me so, I wou'd ha' gone down the back Stairs, let the Footmen have said what they please, so I wou'd. But, good Madam, not a word of see­ing me here.

Well, trust you to my Discretion.

Nay, as for your Discretion, Madam, I know you:

You have Discretion enough to win all our Money, I'll take your word for any thing but an Alpieu.

Well, Dear Suky, adieu—nay no ceremony—

O Jesu? can you be my Friend, and desire I shou'd be so un­bred—

You disoblige me eternally, if you stir a step farther.

To obey you, my Dear—

Well for all 'tis my day, Iudy and I will go masqued to Sir Symbony's— Trickitt, Trickitt—Gads me, I have forgot half my business with her—I must go in, and write her a Letter, before the Child comes back—

This is but an ill return, Mr. Granger, for she's a grat admirer of yours.

Pox on her, she's so obliging; and takes such Pains to inform me, of what I don't care to know.

She calls you her dull Amintor, and says, for a well-bred Per­son, you are certainly the most modest Creature breathing:

She knows you're in Love with her, and has giv'n you a 1000 opportu­nities, to declare your Passion, which your respectfull bashfullness has still prevented you, from laying hold of.

From laying hold of! I am for laying hold of nothing, she has about her, unless it be pretty Mrs. Iudy: No, no, she speaks too plain to be understood: She may be in earnest, upon this Subject, to her self; but she will always be a jest to me. Not but I shall put her to the right use.

Not the use you think of, if I can help it.

What's the business?

Sir, my Lady Susan Malepert's little Page is below, and says he comes to make your Honour a visit.

Bring him up:

Does she send her Embassadour already?

She has scarce had time to draw up his Credentials: Prithee step into my Dressing-Room, while I give audience:

My little Ganymede!

Thou'rt welcome; this was kindly done.

But if you shou'd tell my Lady, she'd never forgive me.

How do you know, Child?

She told me so; for she knows nothing of my coming.

Indeed Child?

No indeed now: Nay, and if you shou'd tell her, I say she talks kindly of you; she'd kill me, so she wou'd.

No sure, Child, she cou'd not have the heart.

Yes indeed, she bad me say so: And then I must not give you this Song, unless you promise to give't me agen; for she said a fine Lady of Quality writ it, upon a very good Friend of yours.

But I may take a Copy?

She said nothing of that, I believe you may.

When will Lady Trickitt be with your Lady, Child?

That were too great an Honour for me, Child: Does not Lady Trickitt send for thee sometimes to sing to her?

I go there by and by: But my Lady will be so impatient to know what your Honour says; for indeed she does not know a word of my being here.

That's a good Child: But thy Lady's a fine, accomplish'd Lady; I dare not presume to think of her. But here's the Song again; my Friend shall write an Answer.

And shall I tell my Lady so from your Honour?

She knows nothing of the matter, Child: But there's a Guiney. to buy Cherries, and be sure you call on my Lady Trickitt, in your way home, and give her this: And if you bring me an Answer, I have another, Guiney in my Pocket for you: So, that's my good Child, thy Lady will want thee.

Well, Sir, what News from the Lady?

Nothing extraordinary; she has play'd the Fool, and writ a Song, as most People do, that are in love: Pray read it, 'tis all her own, I assure you.

Tender and Passionate! and a very just Conclusion!

Shall we look into the Play?

I'll wait on you—

Till I know the Success of your Letter.

And so I have, by Pompey; and here must I, to get a solitary Guiney, now and then, to keep up Loyalty, with a Cup of Cordial Nants, be forc'd to see a Parcel of Ague-fac'd Puppies come perking and pruning after my damn'd Jade: Pox on her, can't she sell off all her Foolish Trumpery at once, and set up an honest Sociable Cellar, where a gang of Generous, Old, Crimson-gill'd, grumbling Cavaliers, may take a Pipe and a Quartern, and my Honour never be concern'd.

Nay, prithee, good Captain, the Company will be here in a wink, as a body may say: Can't you go take a civil walk in our Fields, and leave me to carry on my Occupation.

Occupation, with a Pox to you! What, must I be turn'd out from under my own Roof, to make Room for a Company of strutting, cocking Coxcombs? To help to carry on your Occupation! Ounds! I'll not stir a foot: I'll see who dares command, where I am Master, I will, by Pompey.

But pray consider, Captain—

That's good, I gad, talk of Consideration to a Captain: Why dost not thou know that I have been undone for three Kings, without any Consideration? Why I han't one single Tester left to purchase a civil Qaartern: And how should I consider, with a Pox to you?

Consider this then, Captain—

Ay, this is sense now; this I can consider: And prithee, Dolly, do thou consider too; for Honour, thou know'st, is the nearest and dearest thing to a Souldier: So prithee carry thy self like the Wife of my Bosom: For, look thee, Child, 'tis not any concern for thy Carcass that makes me speak—

Thank you, good Captain.

No, by Pompey, 'tis my Honour; and look to't, you had best, for I may return most rouzie-bouzie, and if I find you have injur'd me, I'll swinge you all, by Hercules.

So get thee gone.

Betty, is the China carry'd to my Lady Trickitt's?

The Fellow's come back, Madam.

Has he brought the Money?

No, she bid him call next Week.

Gads bodikins! had not she promis'd me ready Money, I had never parted with my Goods: Well, there's no faith in these upstart great Ladies: Now must I make forty jaunts to t'other end o'th' Town; and then I shall be paid in crack't Money; and pay Poundage into the Bargain.

She said you were oblig'd to her for the Custom of the Court, and owed her a good turn.

And she thinks to put me off with the Court-Custom; that's good, i' faith; and I must afford her my Ware for nothing: Where's the Heart set with Diamonds I mist this Morning?

We have search'd high and low, but to no purpose.

Then I suspect my Lady Sinker took it.

Suspect! Why, she's famous for it all the Town over.

Nay, that may very well be: For, to my knowledge, greater Ladies have been taken in the manner: But she shan't carry it off so.

I did not expect your Ladyship this half hour: Betty, set on the Tea-Water.

We had a mind to chat by our selves; prithee shut the Door, that we may be private.

I swear I'm in Mortal apprehensions: My Lord Lofty has my Secret, and I know him capable of any thing, to be reveng'd of me.

What can he do? he's disgrac'd at Court: And if he rails now, no body will believe him.

Ay, but he knows—

What does he know? he knows you're a Woman.

Lord! you know where I have a Mulberry spot—

Is that all: he brib'd it from your Woman.

Well, I'll do what I can to prevent his being believ'd; carry it civilly to him, and speak better of him than ever.

So will the Town believe you but an honest Jilt at worst.

But this Sir Ruff is such a blustering half-witted Cox­comb!

If he had less wit, he were ne're the worse for us: But a thousand Pound, my Dear!

My Mistress bid me tell your Ladyship, Mr. Gayman's within, and has made up the number of the Raffle.

We're a little busie yet, but shall be glad of his Compa­ny—

She's not displeas'd at his being here—

This Gayman is not for our turn, Child; he's an Observer; besides, tho' he loves his Pleasure, he swears he won't pay for't, till past forty—Here's Maria.

The Chair must wait—

Send away thy Chair, Child; thou shalt go home with us. We have Bassett this Evening.

I'll but pay it off, and return in a Moment.

That's a pretence: 'Twas Gayman sent for her. He has so great a Friendship for her, that, contrary to the principles of a well-bred Man, he has ventur'd to give her good advice, and, I believe, warn'd her of our Company.

I tax't her of it,

But she deny'd it.

She's discreet, and has but one Weakness, immoderate love of Play—

And love of me: I can make her do any thing—

But one, my Dear: She's Virtuous.

For that I keep her Company—

And for her Money: For, to my knowledge, you have won a­bove 600 l. of her at Comet.

Not so much at Comet; but more at all Games.

The Company is all within, my Lord, Mr. Gayman, and Sir Ruff—they're but looking on some Stuffs; if you're at leisure—

My Lord, shan't we have your Company?

Indeed, my Dear, I did

but stay to chuse some white Peeling for a pair of Breeches—

Drawers, my Lord, you mean.

Jesu! no; you know, I never wear Linings.

Shall we Raffle?

I must drink some Tea first—

Siam, is the Tea ready?

'Tis just put in—Good Lord! I wonder you'll go so, so like a Sloven: Here's a Periwigg well comb'd; and a Cravat sits finely, to ap­pear in Ladies Company.

Very well, Mrs. Siam; but had not you Twins 6 Months af­ter you were Marry'd? Tho?

No, Limberham; nor will you get half a one, in 6 Years af­ter you are Marry'd.

I wonder, Ladies, any body will buy of Mrs. Siam.

Mrs. Bantam's things are ten times better.

Ten times dearer, and ten times worse, I faith:

What! Lord Tattletale, you told her, I said, she was a Papist.

And she said you were an Atheist, And believ'd in nothing but Scotch-Divinity.

He swears you're a Bawd Mrs. Siam.—

Not to him, nor his Neeces, in good faith.

Why, why, pray?

Why, he has no use for one; and they need none:

Lord help your Head; come drink your Tea.

Already in Council!

What Madam Wishwell has told your Ladyship, you may depend upon:

I am a Man of Honour, and your humble Servant, Madam.

My Lady believes you, Sir Ruff: To Night at Twelve;

You know the Garden-Door.

My happiness is so amazing!

Contain your self: We are observ'd:

What! drinking Tea, my Lord?

Yes, if Siam wou'd give me a little Sugar;

I love sweet things mightily.

Yes, too much for a Wit:

There; 'tis Syrrup for you—

Prithee, Siam, fill me some Tea.

O law! he has scauld me to Death.

Pough! 'twas almost cold:

And Tea, you know, never burns.

Jesu! and what a pickle am I in!

Here's a do with a drop of Water!

Come, let me rub you down, Tom dingle—

Ounds! what's this? Kissing your Cockrill before my face! by Pompey! who am I? I'll pepper you, you and your young Urchin too; I will by Pompey.

O Law! Captain, but hear Reason:

[Page 33]Now as I hope for marssy, there was no harm.

Ounds! that's a good one:

No harm to kiss my Dolly?

Nay, take my word for't, Captain,

You need not fear when I am by.

Why, look you, you may be as little concern'd

For your Puppy, as you please, Madam:

But for my damn'd—

Nay, prithee, Numpee, don't disturb the Company; they were going to Raffle.

Yes, by Pompey, you were a Raffling:

I caught you at it, a Raffling for my Honour, with a Pox to you.

No, faith, Captain, we shall Raffle for a better thing.

Ounds! Sir, what's that you say?

Why, I say, what we Raffle for, is of Threescore Pound value: Say nothing, and you go to twelve with me.

Say'st thou so, Old Boy? 'Tis so like Speering's,

That for once I am contented.

Come then, shall we Raffle?

Here's the Box, Ladies.

Two Cinques, and a Quater!

That's Fifteen.

Exactly, my Lord; Four and Ten.

O law! no; Fourteen.

And Thirteen, is Seven and Twenty

And Eighteen.

No, two Sixes, and an Ace.

Well, that's Forty—

Confederacy! did not you observe

Wishwell turn over one of your Dice?

'Twas by chance, playing with her Fan.

You're sincere your self,

And believe every body so, but me.

Dam these Dice—

Before the Ladies, Sir Ruff?

But I always lose, when I play fair.

Come, now for my Fortune—

Madam, I have some Doctors in my Pocket,

If you please to use 'em.

What Doctors, Sir?

Why, don't you know the Doctors?

The Dice that only run the high Chances.

I'll put 'em into your Box, and no body the wiser.

You shou'd ha' don't without telling me.

So I can still, Madam—

I stand cross-legg'd for you, Madam—

Vigorously done, Madam—

I have lost it.

I despair of winning—'tis yours—

Ounds! I go to twelve with you—

Come, throw, Sir—

'Tis mine with much ado.

A hard World, Faith, and Troth;

But I brought luck along with me.

I remember you, Captain.

Sir, Sir Symphony, and his Instruments, are at the Door, in half a dozen Coaches, and stay for you.

Adso, where's my Gittern?

Why, Numpee, you broke your Gittern, you know.

My Gittern! mouldy Chops! where were you bred I trow? But my Neighbour Twingle the Barber has one, I'll borrow it so long from his Customers.

Did you hear of the foolish Accident befell Sir Symphony?

What was't, my Lord?

What say you to a Pooile at Comet,

At my House?

Sir Ruff, Will you make one?

I am always devoted.

Ladies, shan't I be troublesom?

The Devil take him.

We shall be glad of your Company.

Well, I'll go before in a Hackney,

And get things ready for you: I find,

I must shew you the way—

Well said, my Lord, you in the Front appear: And I may help you to bring up the Rear.

SCENE I.

WEll, how do you like Sir Ruff? he's a little mutinous at my wit sometimes; but he's good natur'd; and then has the Sense, and Courage of a Lion: But the Barronet's Worship may pass for a Squire at Comet tho'.

One wou'd almost swear he loses on purpose, to my Lady.

Why so one wou'd, I vow now, if one did not know the Company.

Well, I swear now, Mrs. Wishwell, you look so young,

You are not above five and Twenty, are you?

Nay, if you're witty upon your Friends, I have done with you.

Prithee now, I won't be witty agen these two hours.

For once I'll take your word.

Well, my Lord, you're happy in a good Lady;

She's as discreet, as she's handsome.

You know a well-bred Man must not think too well of his own Wife: But I vow now, before I was Marry'd, I thought her as handsome as an Angel.

My Lord Lofty has not been here of late.

He wou'd hardly bow to me at the Play, last Night;

But I thought he was out of humour for being turn'd out; and yet I vow I had no hand in't.

For being turn'd out of this House I believe.

O law! why I carry'd it the civilest to him in the World.

But he desir'd your Lady shou'd be civil to him.

And so she was, I hope: Why, I have known her alone with him, in her Closet, when she was deny'd to every body else.

While she thought him a Man of Honour,

For your sake she suffer'd him.

Have a care what you say,

I'm told, he's likely to be greater than ever.

But must not with your Lady.

Ay, but he must tho: I han't got the Patent he promis'd me.

And he is to give you a new Crest to your new Coronet?

No, really, I like mine very well: The Golden-Calf has been the Crest of our Family, ever since the Conquest.

The Horns will grow in time.

Dull Man!

He has made Love to your Lady.

Jesu! that's pleasant! A Statesman make Love! why, he can no more deal with a Mistress, than with a House of Commons.

Come leave your fooling; and promise me, not to quarrel with him; you shall promise me, for you are so nice in points of Honour I know.

Honour! Lord help your Head (as Siam says) I have as much

Honour as I care for; I am a Lord;

And shall hardly quarrel to get more.

But you must promise me then, to take no notice of it to my Lady: she'd never forgive what I tell you; out of the respect I have for you both.

Nay, I vow I'm mightily oblig'd to you; and so is my Wife; tho' the Jesters in the Dancing-Room are apt to laugh at me, when I tell 'em so. But had he the Impudence to make Love to her?

Ay, more than so, he surpriz'd her one day, in her Closet, and wou'd ha' ravish'd her.

O law! I did not think a Man of Fifty cou'd ravish—

Had not her Virtue, and my seasonable assistance prevented him: But I found her just faln into a swoon.

How! fal'n into a swoon! nay then he might ravish her:

[Page 36]But tho I say it, that shou'd not say it, there are some of our Family (tho' they can't ravish as well as he) shou'd they know this, were he ten times my Lord Lofty—I'll do't my self—

Nay, remember what you promis'd me.

No matter for that, I'll about it instantly.

For Heaven's sake, you won't Murder him.

No, that's the way to hang for't:

I'll complain to the King—

Ay, but what signifies our Wives Virtue, if they are so lyable to fall into a swoon? Any Woman may be taken napping you know.

But, if this base Man shou'd brag of Favours?

Why, let him brag; he's out of favour at Court; and whatever he says now goes for nothing in the Drawing Room; and I care not this what he can say any where else; for I wou'd not be known by my good will out of the Verge of White-Hall.

Or if some of your pretended Friends, shou'd go about to make you suspect me.

Tho' I shou'd surprize 'em in the manner, and you standing Centry—

My Lady's here—

How! Wishwell! I protest I don't understand this:

Indeed my Lord I shall be jealouse of you.

But shall I never be jealous of you, my Lady.

You need not, Dear, knowing your self so well:

If I were wantonly inclin'd, where cou'd I mend my self.

Where am I? sure Paradise is round me:

To touch thee's Heaven, but to enjoy thee! Oh!—

Have my Lord and you been at the Cordial Waters?

We have been gravely talking of the deceit, and wickedness of the Age, Madam.

I understand you—

My Lord when shall we into the Country? I'm quite weary of this Town: The Company and publick diversions carry you so much abroad, I lan­guish days without you: There I shou'd be oftener blest.

Well, Dear, I vow now, I won't be a moment from you, but when I'm in other Company: But that 'tis not the fashion to be fond of ones Wife, I verily believe I cou'd say a great many soft things to her.

Pray, my Dear, let's go to Monkey-Hill.

Nor, no body that understands good breeding.

There the Justice's Lady comes to visit, and ask questions af­ter the fashion: And how do they wear their Hair? Do they carry their Heads as high as they did last Easter Term?

And, Lord! is such a one as wicked as she was in the last Lam­poon? We have no such Creatures in the Country, I assure you.

And then if I talk Wit, or banter Mr. Iustice about State Affairs, he stares at me, and does not understand me: Unless one laughs ones self, the jests are lost upon 'em.

Well, well, there are a Thousand innocent Diversions—

What! Angling for Gudgeons, Bowls, and Ninepins?

More wholesome, and diverting, than alway the duste Mill­Horse driving in Hide-Park.

O law! don't prophane Hide-Park: Is there any thing so plea­sant as to go there alone, and find fault with the Company? Why there can't a Horse, or a Livery scape a Man, that has a mind to be witty: And then I sell bargains to the Orange-Women.

If you lov'd, as I do, you wou'd like the Country; there I shou'd have you Weeks together; you might sit by, and see me work; or read a Play or a Novel to me.

Lord! you know, if I read three Minutes together,

I fall asleep: And then if I shou'd chance to be alone, what wou'd be­come of me? I never think, but it puts me into the Spleen, I'm ready to cry.

Now if you have over-acted your part, and he shou'd go into the Country.

I know him too well for that.

Well, Madam, adieu—

Jesu! whither now?

I'll be at home time enough to go to Bed with you:

But Sir Barnaby Banter, Captain Tilter, and Sir Cantaver Bawwaw stay in the side Box for me.

I wonder you'll leave me for such Coxcombs.

O law! Coxcombs! have a care what you say:

Banter has a World of Wit: He drove my Chariot a whole Evening at Hide-Park, in my Coachman's Periwigg, and Livery: I swear he drives as well as any Gentleman in England: I wonder where he learnt it?

It may be natural to him; his Father kept a Coachman.

Then Sir Cantaver Bawwaw—I wish you had been with us t'other Night—we had a Country Cudden with us; he plaid upon him all Night; I warrant you, he dumfounded him a hundred times.

Indeed!

Aye, and once, when I was bantering the Squire What do you think? He put some Gunpowder uner his Chair, and blew him up:

And did the Squire take it?

At the first he was a little angry; But we all swore 'twas a Squibb thrown into the Window: Then Captain Tilter he came souse upon him indeed, and threw a whole Glass of Clarret in his face.

And cou'd you swear off that too?

No truly, the Put pluckt up a Spirit, struck Tilter, and Chal­leng'd him to go down with him; now the Captain beg'd his pardon, be­cause he wou'd not spoil Company; but winkt, and laugh'd upon us all the while, for we were in the Secret you know—but I must go to 'em, or they'll laugh at me; and swear I'm under Correction; and that a Body wou'd not have every one know neither, you know.

So, he's safe for this Night.

How can we trust to that?

Pray trust to me: I had him sent for; and will pretend to lie with you: Shou'd my Lord come home, we're gone to Bed; besides, you have bred him up to lie in his Dressing-Room, upon these occasions.

Well, if it must be so: For your sake I can do any thing.

And something for your own: There's Money, that's cer­tain: And for any other Disappointment, you may bear it the better from a Man you don't like: We must not always please our selves, Child.

SCENE the going into Sir Symphony's.

Sir Ruff, Sir Ruff! you overlook your Friends.

It must be a very good Friend, I don't over-look at this time.

Why, what's the matter?

Why, I'm an Emperour, and this the Night of my Co­ronation; Know, Friend, for thou art the only Confident of my Plea­sures, that this Night, at Twelve, the Incomparable Madam Wishwell re­ceives me at my Lady's Garden-Door: This being told, I must be gone: For nothing but the pleasure of imparting to my Bosom-Friend, cou'd de­tain me a Moment.

But where's the haste now?

The haste! Why they may be at the Musick, for ought I know: And if I shou'd not be there to receive 'em: Where's the haste now?

Be Crown'd to Night, do you say? No, no, I'll spoil his Holiday.

What, Gayman thoughtful?

I have it in my head, But you must help me out with it.

Mr. Granger—

Well said, my Mercury!

Here's an Answer to your Letter, Sir,

But I must not be seen here, lest my Lady shou'd be known to be within in a Masque; and that she would not for any thing: She says, Sir, you must not know her.

But what said my Lady Trickit?

Indeed, Sir, I dare not stay any longer.

There's thy Guiney, Child.

A Lady's Trophy, Mr. Granger?

A Fore-runner of dark Deeds; you shall hear it.

I'm glad you're Converted; and won't fail to be at Rosamond's Pond, at Ten exactly, where I will use my best Endeavours to Confirm you.

A very Pious Gentlewoman, this!

She'd make an admirable Missionary For China, or the Mogul's Country.

Mine's a tender Conscience, and requires extraordinary, helps.

Methinks you're something frank of the Lady's Secrets.

O Sir, they allow all Freedoms to us, who are able to dis­cover their good Qualities, as well as their Intrigues.

There's no Man hindred from telling, but he that enters no farther into the Secret.

Besides ours are Sworn Mistresses: And the more

We set out their Perfections, the more their Renown.

Fie, fie, I shall lose my Reputation with you.

You! why with all your Prudence, of never bowing to your Mistress in a publick place, stealing glances under your Hat, and following her at a sly distance in the Mall, you are found out as well as we, who make no Mystery of the matter.

Nay, sooner; for your Gravity is suspected of a design, while the franker Fellows have not Credit enough with the Town to establish a Scandal.

But a little Discretion does no harm.

Discretion! why that's enough to ruin a Man, with the whole Sex: He that has liv'd to twenty, without the Reputation of a wicked Fellow; will never be allow'd to be wicked in a fashionable Compa­ny as long as he lives.

You're only for the Brutal part, Gentlemen.

I don't know what you mean by the Brutal part:

Mine's a healthy Constitution; it ebbs, and flows, like the Sea, and needs nothing but it self; to cause its motion.

There's part of Sir Symphony's

Eguipage, 'tis time to follow—

At Ten a Clock! I shall watch you, Mr. Granger.

Who's there? What wou'd you have?

Is Mr. Scrapewell within?

No, you may find him at the Bear.

Tell Sir Symphony here are some Gentlemen desire the favour to come in.

Lord, Sir, I can't let you in:

Here's scarce room already, for the Gentlemen

Performers, to stir their Elbows—

Well, what's the matter now?

Sir, here's Mr. Humdrum's Base-Viol—

Give it me.

Here are Ladies.

The Ladies must come in.

Ounds! this may be my— No, no, it is not she.

Ladies, you're very welcome: Chairs there.

Wou'd you wou'd unmask, and joyn the Arms of your Beauty, to the force of the Musick, that not a Heart might scape.

I know, Sir, you are too well bred,

Not to give us our liberty,

This Place is Sacred to the Fair,

You must Command, Ladies.

Knight, is your Noctural here?

Are they good Goods, I must examine.

O Jesu! this rude Fellow!

Sir, you may talk till the Musick plays, [Page 41] But here you must excuse me,

I suffer no Ruffling.—

Zounds! Sir, I'll excuse neither them, nor you,

For all your scraping.

This must be improv'd to a Quarrel.

Hark you, Sir Ruff—

Zounds! Sir, I'll protect the Damsels, as much as any Man.

Ay, Sir Ruff, get the rude Fool beaten,

That wou'd affront 'em, do.

O Jesu! Mr. Granger, protect me,

I'm ready to dye.

There's no danger, Madam.

Pray lead me to a Chair, I tremble every joint of me;

I shall fall into a Fit.

'Twou'd break Sir Symphony's Heart, Madam.

O Law! I hope you don't know me;

I protest I wou'd not be known for the World.

I only guess your Quality: by your air.

But why do you tax me for Sir Symphony?

I swear, Sir, I value no body more than your self:

But, I vow, you have oblig'd me extreamly—

All Discords! Fourths, and Sevenths! Gentlemen.

Wou'd that Ear of your's were reform'd once—

In a Pillory?

Come, come, let's Tune, we make the Ladies stay.

He takes a Base-Viol, and while he is Tuning, one of the Bullies unwinds the Pegs over his head: Then he lays down the Bow, which the Bully draws through the Candle; when Sir Symphony tries to play, he can't make it sound.

Lord! Gentlemen, 'tis impossible to Play at this rate:

Standing so near me, as you do, your Breath has so moisten'd my Strings, they won't sound.

Dam me Tom, the Knight Crowds most splendidly: I'll banter him: Pray, Sir, when you lengthen a Crotchet into Quavers, and divide it by Minums, does not your Cravat-String deaden the sound of your Fiddle?

Mine's a Cremona, and cost me 50 Pounds, Gentlemen,

Pray suspend your Curiosity, and come to my Chamber,

And I'll resolve you any Question in Musick.

But, Sir, if the volatile parts of Musick should justle with the effluviums of the Air;

For Tico Brache holds, all sounds go in a right line by undulation: Can common time be consistent with a Jigg?

Lord, Sir, you make such a noise—I make all my Jiggs in common time; are you satisfy'd?

But if Harmony was first discover'd, by the beating of Ham­mers upon an Anvil; why shou'd not your Head make the most melodious, Instrument?

[Page 42]For Aristotle holds that your hollow Vessels—

If you're for a Cockpit, so—

Come, pray let's begin—

This is admirable: But if you wou'd oblige the Ladies, you must play your Solo.

With all my Heart, if the Captain will accompany,

Pox a' this scraping, and tooting:

Shall we Ecclipse, Tom, and make it a Rankum?

No, no, we'll dumfound the Baronet.

Who's that? What do you mean?

This is not to be born:

Is't you, take that, Sir.

This is a common Cause.

They draw, drive the Bullies out, the Women run out at the other door, Sir Ruff retires to a Corner of the Stage, and draws, the others return—

These Brutes have almost destroy'd all the publick Diversions of the Town.

Stand you by Sir Symphony,

I'll bring him a Challenge—

I've always thought you brave, Sir Ruff.

Why, who dares think otherwise?

I believe Sir Symphony will meet you.

Or I'll post him: But what has he done?

Softly—You design'd it, I suppose; and your best way is to be before hand with him, I'll stand by you—

Why I saw him; he encourag'd 'em: Besides, Fidler's but a scurvy Title for a Knight?

Why did he call me Fidler?

He said you were a wretched scraper,

Only fit to play to a Garland upon a May-Day:

My Lady Susan heard him, as well as I.

Nay if one were sure of that, if she heard him:

One wou'd not do a foolish thing, hand over head, without Reason, you know.

If you bring it to any thing, let me serve you?

You shall find me at my Lodgings—

Well then, desire him to meet me, with his Sword in his Hand, to morrow morning.

If he finds you so backward, he'll never ask your pardon.

But to Night I have Business, you know.

Greater than your Honour?

'Tis very unfortunate—But use your pleasure.

Sir, I hope you'll pardon my Message.

Sir Ruff desires you wou'd meet him, with your Second, in Moorfields.

I was just designing to send to him, to meet me, to morrow morning.

He desires it may be to Night, Sir.

To Night?

At twelve: The Moon shines very clear:

At Bedlam Gate, at twelve, Sir—

I must send to Mr. Granger: I shan't fail, Sir.—

Come, Sir, I have business for an Hour; but get you ready, you need not make your Will, I believe; I'll meet you at the Sun Tavern be­hind the Change, and not fail—to disappoint you of your Seconds.

SCENE III. Rosamond's Pond. Granger alone.

Let the Woman deserve as little as her Man, she seldom fails of a favou­rable opinion of her own Charms; and, in the Intrigue, if it be possible, will be the greater Fool of the two. Because I like Trickit, she thinks I'm in love with her: Why, how has she the impudence to think so! But she does think so; for in this Note, she has promis'd to meet me here: If she has Honesty enough to be as good as her Word; she needs no greater Curse: There was no occasion of my knowing that she can make her Husband a Cuckold, to make me have an ill opinion of her: I al­ways thought so ill of her that 'tis now necessary to think a little while well, to think worse of her than I did: That must be my reason of liking her; a malicious Pleasure of revenging the Quarrel of those Fools (not forgetting her dear Lord) who have trusted, and been deceived by her, She can't deceive me.

Whom have we here? a Sister in Affliction!

If my Nymph, and her Shepherd have stray'd together: 'Twere a gentle Charity, of my side, to propose a Club of Inconstancy for a Revenge.

Mr. Granger! is't you?

The best part of him, Madam.

O law! Mr. Granger! I fear I have tir'd your Patience: An impertinent Kinswoman popt in upon me, and kept me above half an hour, I vow now.

A trick upon me! but I'll fit her.

I thought the Minutes Ages, till you came.

O Jesu! and did you, dear Mr. Granger?

By her, O Jesu, I guess the Party—

Madam, this Happiness attones for all.

O Jesu! But can you love me dearly?

More than Heaven.

And you'll be constant?

As Penelope.

And you'll love me for ever and ever?

Amen, to the end of the Chapter.

You'll swear all this?

The Bible through, Madam: By your fair self, by all—

Hold, hold, good Sir, enough: Well, we shall be so happy; but when? for now you may command me.

Now, Madam, this instant—

O Jesu! what do you mean:

To let you know how well I love you.

No, I vow, I wou'd not for all the World: As I hope for Massy, you must hate me, to offer this.

Rather if I shou'd not offer it, Madam;

[Page 45]The opportunity, and you are kind—

O law! Sir! if you'll be honourable—

There Shades are honourable: You are not the first Woman has trusted her Honour with 'em: Keep your own Counsel, and they'll tell no Tales to your Relations, to put you out of Countenance, as you walk bare-fac'd this way with 'em.

But this to a Lady of my Quality.

Why, 'twere a downright flight upon you, not to offer to be civil to you: And a Woman of Quality can bear any thing better than a slight, you know: Besides, the Place, and Hour take all distinction off: Come, come, you have made as decent a resistance, as is necesary to excuse you to your Quality.

Well, Mr. Granger, I thought'you had more respect for me, else I shou'd never have trusted my self with you, alone; in the Honourable way of Marriage, I own I cou'd receive you.

Why, you are marry'd already.

O Crimine! No; who do you take me for?

Nay, if you're not marry'd, you must tell me.

Pray, who did you visit this Afternoon?

A Worthy, Grave Lady, Lady Susan Malepert.

Suppose it her you talk to.

Suppose you her! suppose my Lady Susan with a Man, alone, at ten at Night, and in this place too! No, no, that is not to be suppos'd; and you are no better than you shou'd be, to offer it: If you were not in Petticoats, you shou'd know how I resent a wrong so great to her I so much honour.

Why then, I vow now—

Nay, never load your Crime with Perjury.

Why, dear Sir, did not you appoint this place?

But that Lady does not use to answer Appointments.

And wou'd you make my generous Pity appear a Crime?

For the generous Pity you speak of, I wou'd have you to know, that Lady has none for any Man, at Rosamond's Pond.

O Jesu! Sir! Why sure 'tis no Crime, in an Honourable way, to see the Man one loves.

Love! why that's a Folly Lady Susan has renounc'd these twenty Years: Her Pulse beats even, and her sober Blood runs quiet in her Veins: And as for Matrimony, I know the very Name wou'd frighten her: Besides I dare not aim so high.

O Jesu! Your Merit equals you to all things: And were I ten times what I am—

Thou art a thing I must despise; a Midnight Stroaler; nay worse, some mischief-making Fiend, who woud'st assume the Title of an Angel, to be the more a Devil. Bless me! methinks I see the cloven Foot peep under her Petticoat! Defend me! I say, and deliver me from such Company.

Jesu! What can this mean? Either he did not, or he wou'd not know me: If he did not hope to meet me here, why did he write to me? [Page 46] he had my Letter, else why came he hither? but then he said I was marry'd O law! may be he suspected Sir Symphony: Well, I must forbid him my Lodgings, I see that, to convince him. O law! but then he wou'd have been so rude! but that might be to try my Virtue; for I must needs say, he spoke all the while of me with the greatest respect in the World. Well, I love him, that's certain, and must not lose him; I'll be plain with him the first time I see him; for marry him I must, and wear my Wedding Ring upon my Thumb too, that I'm resolv'd on.

This is some sort of Revenge upon the Rogue for refusing me his Money: How could he imagine I wou'd allow him a favour, when he had giv'n me such a reason to believe he did not think it worth paying for? I wou'd carry my malice farther, to punish his impudence in writing to me; but since his Note has contributed to the cheating him with the Person of Lady Susan; I am at the end of my design; and am contented only to laugh at him—

Rest you merry, Madam.

They may laugh that win, they say, Mr. Garnish.

And Ladies seldom lose in such a Town as this is, where there are so many civil Persons to play at your own Game too.

But how came you here at such a time?

Madam, I can't be so indifferent a Lover, not to watch the Mo­tions of your inclinations; finding your pleasure lie this Evening in the Park, I came to find it out.

Indeed if you had come a little sooner, you might have found it: I have been very well pleas'd since I came here.

I believe so.

But you come a little too late to be a Witness of it; the business is over.

O Madam, I wou'd not disturb you, if the business had not been over: I met Mr. Granger, Madam, and knew hy him the business was over.

And what said he to you? did not he look like an Ass?

As Men generally do upon such occasions: But I thought it unrea­sonable to tell him, he look'd like an Ass, because I knew he was not the first of your making.

Mr. Garnish!

I'm sure you have made an Ass of me: But my Jealousie has re­stor'd my Eyes; and now I plainly see you wou'd abuse me. When Gran­ger sent you the Note of Assignation, I was with him

Well, I received one from him—

O! did you so?

By Lady Susan's Page.

By the same Token he gave the Boy a Guiney to encourage so hope­ful a beginning; and told him, if he brought him an answer, he had another to set him up in his Trade: You were not wanting on your party, I know.

Why, truly, no; when I read it, I put it into another cover, and gave it the Page to carry his Lady: She was glad of the Appointment, I suppose, sent him an Answer, and came according to the Invitation.

And what did you come for?

To laugh at the mistake—

And set him right. O, very probable!

'Tis very true,

That you are very false.

I ne're was false to you.

Away, away, it is not to be excus'd.

I don't excuse it.

No, no, it never can.

Why then it never shall; and I am sorry I attempted it: If you don't think it worth your while to be satisfied, I'm sure I was in the wrong to endeavour it. Sir, as I remember, matters between you and me are en­tirely depending upon our good liking and pleasure: 'Tis not in the nature of an Amour to make one another uneasie: When once we begin to find faults, 'tis high time to find out fresh Friends, that have none: The severest Jealousie of this kind, lies within the Remedy of parting.

It need not come to that neither, Madam.

Sir; I won't be suspected, I won't be enquired into: A Husband can do no more; and I have enough of one Husband and his ill humours at home, I thank you, ever to allow of a Husband abroad to torment me. Perhaps you think I can't break with you; I wou'd have you to know, Sir, I can, and will break with you and fifty more, rather than break one hours rest for any of you. I'll change as often as I shift my Cloaths, but I'll light upon a Man that has sense enough to value his own pleasure, without invading mine. If I depended upon you indeed, and there were no body else to be had, you might tye me to your own terms, but, make us thankful, there's roving room enough in this dear Town: I can provide my self, I warrant you.

A Mistress is a name implies Command:

Nor shall the Scepter fail within my Hand:

But if you wou'd take back that Pow'r you gave,

Marry the Woman you wou'd make a Slave.

SCENE I.

Lord Malepert's House.

How, how? one Mind! no, there I'm out: now can't I help thinking of Sir Ruff, and destroying the Memory of this Night's Pleasures, by calling to mind they were all design'd for another. Can't I be content­ed with the Enjoyment of a delicious Woman, without reflecting, that any body else might have had her as well as I. 'Tis an impertinent Curiosity in [Page 48] our Natures, that when we have discovered as much as we can, to please us, will always drive us upon something to find fault with: Curiosity did I call it? Nay, Gad, there's ingratitude in the bottom on't, I believe; for 'tis the way of the World, in other favours too; to lessen those Obligations, as much as we can, which we han't in our honesty to return. Pox, I hate to be ungrateful: But I can't be ungrateful here, if I wou'd; for there was nothing design'd to me of the benefits I receiv'd: Wishwell let me in, at the hour appointed for Sir Ruff: The Lady receiv'd me for Sir Ruff; but when I think of the plesures that came after, that she shou'd still mistake me, for that bargaining Booby of her Bawds providing; I don't forgive her; The furious riot, the expense of Charms, the prodigality of Life, and Love (too vast for Nature's Bounty to support another hour) might have inform'd her better.

'Tis not yet Day: Wishwell's my Convoy; I can't get off without her:

No matter now, if she knows me.

Who's this follows me?

I have slept away my life,

My better part of it, my life of Love: He's gone from me:

Was this an hour of rest? Sleep had been welcome in a Husband's Bed; but in a Lover's Arms! he stole away, fearful of waking me, and fearful to be seen, he stole away,

In every thing, showing his care of me: How cou'd Sir Ruff do this? O Love! what can'st thou not do in a Woman's Heart!

That brutal thing, whom, as I thought, I loath'd,

Thy gentle Fires have softned by degrees, and melted into Gayman: Night be still my Friend, let me not see him, and I will think it was my Gay­man still.

O this Woman! I love her for her self, but hate her too.

Who's there?

Your Lover.

O! be but ever so: Can you forget? Can you forgive me?

Can you excuse my being to be sold?

Let Wishwell bear the mercinary blame—

Her baseness wrought me to her sordid ends:

But I'll return your Bills—

Return my Love: My Fortune is but yours.

You are my better Fortune.

O this happy Night. But to remember it,

A Locket, or your Picture—

Take this Ring, to make a better Marriage.

Have you forgiv'n me?

How shall I convince you?

Why, only say you have.

Saying is too little: Doing's the living proof, that never lies; within you will believe me—

Madam, Madam, where are you? Bless my Eyesight!

Bless the Woman: What's the matter?

Are you the happy Man; Mr. Gayman?

Gayman!

Thank you for making me so, Mrs. Wishwell.

Gayman! then I am ruin'd:

Base Woman! have I deserv'd this from you?

No, but you deserve it from your self,

For putting this trick upon me—

I put a trick upon you!

And you will find the benefit of it, in a little time; my Lord, and his drunken Companions, are coming up Stairs, to visit you: As you have manag'd the business without me; ev'n get off on't, as well as you can; I wash my hands of it, and will retire without being seen.

O every way undone! follow her down the back Stairs—

Pox take her; she has double-lockt the Door.

What shall I do! what will become of me!

Nay, Madam, let the worst come to the worst,

Sir Ruff is oblig'd to take care of you—

But I'll bring you off this time, I warrant you.

And he that is giv'n to doat,

On Woman's inconstancy:

I wou'd not be in his Coat,

For a great deal of ready Mony.

What! my Lady, and Gayman!

Are you too up together early, or late?

Here's my Lord and I are in Conjunction too:

Why faith, Madam, we thought of nothing, but the Spirit of Clery:

We did not expect such good Company, my Lord—

No, really, I did not expect to find a Man with my Wife.

But see how odly things will happen sometimes.

Ay, so they will, very odly indeed sometimes.

Odly, Mr. Granger!—What the Devil do you mean?

I'll bring you off, I warrant you. Madam,

Gayman's an honest, well condition'd Fellow;

But somewhat sleepy towards Morning:

How did your Ladyship get him up so soon?

Prithee recollect thy self: All's ruin'd else.

I must go snacks, Gayman.

He's must'ring all his little Malice, 'twill end in mischief certainly.

Nick, go you and fetch the Constable:

But before he comes, Madam, I command you,

In the King's Name, to tell me, what you two have been doing together, in my absence, against the peace of my Bed, and Bosome?

Doing, my Lord!

Why 'tis plain enough what we have been doing!

Any body may see what we have been doing—

Very plainly, my Lord.

Or if they can't see; 'tis but hearing you talk, as you do; and they may easily find what you have been doing:

Did not we sup together?

The Devil's always very powerful at this time of the Morn­ing, Gentlemen; but bear Witness,

He says, they supt together!

They supt together! We, I say we; Granger, your Lordship and I, and these two honest Gentlemen. Gentlemen, I shall be proud to be better known to you:

What! not remember Mr. Gayman!

O! perfectly, my Lord.

Why, my noble Lord, you are farther gone than I thought you were: If you drink your Friends down with your Bottle, I have done with you: Why, Gentlemen, I don't believe you drank very hard after I left you.

Not very hard, Sir.

Not above a Bottle a piece, after you left us.

Well, a clear Conscience is a great matter, I see.

After he left us! Why, then I am drunk, and did not know it before: To my own thinking now I remember every thing in the Company as perfecty—

Why how can a Man tell, at this rate, whether he's sober, or no?

Nay, I had been in the same pickle, if I had staid with you:

But when you saw I began to be maukish, you may remember, you sent me home before you, to knock up Mrs. Darkas, for the Cordial Waters; And you were to follow me.

Not that I know of.

Nay, my Lord, there you must excuse me; truth is truth; you did send him home, for how cou'd we else have found him here?

Why that's true: Why, well, if I have forgot it, I beg all your Pardons.

Is it not enough, my Lord, that you come home, at these un­seasonable hours, but you must send up your drunken Companions before you?

Wishwell, and I were asleep,

When this unmannerly Royster came into the Dining-Room: We thought There had been Thieves, and poor Wishwell was almost frighted out of her Senses.

I must close with her, for my own sake.

Was this well done, my Lord? Yet I won't think you cou'd be so ill a Man to design it, as a Plot upon my Honour, I won't think you cou'd.

Nay, Wishwell, as I hope to be sav'd now, 'twas altogether an Accident, no body had the least design upon my Wife, or her Honour, that I know of:

I was all that while serving you elsewhere.

What do you mean?

Why do you think your self a fit Man for a Back-Door? You might as well have trusted 'em again to let you in at the Window: The Ladies design'd to laugh at you, and being your Friend, I made the quarrel, to send you out of their Power.

Experience can never be bought too dear, Sir.

Zounds, Sir, I'll go to her, and tell her she lies.

I'm glad I know your Principles.

Sir Symphony, why do you look so angry?

I hate Blood-shed; then Sir Ruff and you are Old Friends; besides, Gay­man, and I had business, as you see, Sir; but how went the Tilt? Ha! I'm sorry, for both your sakes, I can see thro' neither of you:

I love a Visto, as my Lord says, mightily.

O Gemeni! Wife, let 'em come up:

[Page 52]Tho' you have cram'd her Pockets as full of Sweet-meats as they can hold: Her own Spark appears in the Morning; beats you, perhaps, for offering to lead her to her Coach, and forces you to walk home, ankle deep, in your Turkish Habit.

I'm as good as my word, you see, Madam,

I've brought you off: I have been oblig'd to you, and have return'd you your favour: But you must own Madam, mine carries something the better air along with it; because I generously design'd it for your La­dyship.

What shall I say? What can I say?

I won't upbraid you, Madam, you have done me the second good turn you had in your Power to bestow: And since 'twas impos­sible to have you to my self; it goes a great way in my Cure, to know that any Fool may engage you for the time;

O very fortunate! And kind in you, and all the Good Com­pany: How came I by this favour?

Why, truly, Madam, being up at Cards, at Lady Trickitts, over the way, we cou'd not resist the temptation of the Fiddles.

So near a Relation can't doubt that, Madam.

Dear, Madam, I beg you a thousand Pardons,

O Jesu! For what, Mr. Granger?

Till you pull'd off your Masque, I took you for a Scandalous Creature, I met in St. Iame's-Park last Night; she was drest so like you.

That Lady was no ill Friend of yours, I assure you.

You have no cause to speak well of her; for she wou'd ha' made me believe, you were as bad as her self.

Pox on her, how she haunts me—

I find he does not think it for his Reputation to marry a Wo­man, that would meet him in private.

I'le mention it no farther.

May I presume, Madam, that this opportunity may be more favourable to my hopes.—

Lord, Sir, I know nothing of an opportunity; pray be quiet, you wou'd not talk of an opportunity before People, wou'd you?

Why I never saw the like of you.—

She always uses me ill before Company.

Was it fine Walking last night, Mr. Granger?

Was there good Company at Rosamond's-Pond?

I did not see your Ladyship there.

Me! Fie, fie, a Married Woman there! Mr. Granger!

What you were more Houswifely employ'd?

More to my mind a great deal.

In private, Madam?

In Laughing at you. Lord! Mr. Granger, I thought you had been off the Vanity of thinking Women in love with you: 'Tis past time a day for you to send Love-Letters about the Neighbourhood, to corrupt the civil Families: How had you the Conscience to think a Woman would have any business with you, but to laugh at you? I vow I thought you had been wiser.

Faith I thought so my self, Madam.

And why would you put your self into any Womans power to disappoint you? I thought the Young Fellows only, the Beaus of a Years standing in the side Box, could be disappointed; Who, by the extraordina­ry opinion of themselves, from their first Summons, imagine it impossible for any Woman to stay away from 'em.

But you are satisfied at last, I see.

Indeed I am, that I was always in the wrong, when I had the least good opinion of you. I was in hopes of having it in my power to use you, as you deserve (which you should have been sure of) but since you have gone before me in this, I promise you, you shall never get the better of me in any other business as long as l know you: And till you are Older, I can't like you worse than I do.

I promise you, I'le ne're be jealous more.

Then here I promise you, I'le never give you cause to be jealous.

Who have we here?

The Ladies shall know us, if they please.

We're men for their turn; Sons of Darkness, And fit for the business of the Night.

I'm for defending the Ladies.

How could'st thou be so barbarous to the Cuckold of thy bosom, to frighten him so terribly?

He began to be troublesome:

Besides I have at present a Quarrel to the Family.

This Ring, Madam, I Valu'd only as an Evidence of my good fortune, which, since the case is so plain, I return to your Ladyship again.

I don't observe that dearness between you, and Mrs. Wishwell, that us'd to be; don't let me make a breach in that Friendship, which may be so service­able to you both: You're both in a mistake, neither has betray'd tother: In­deed Sir Ruff made me his Confident, and qualifi'd me for the welcome I have found. Mrs. Wishwell, now I'm sure you'll be my Friend, since you know I have it in my Power to be your Enemy.

And for you, Madam, I am oblig'd to justifie you to every body, but my self.

Then I am sure to keep her in my own Power.

Lord! this is the oddest thing in the World,

Turn a Man out of his own Doors, for coming to divert you: 'Twas as much as I cou'd do, I Vow now, to perswade the Foot-Man to let me in again.

Why, were you one of 'em, my Lord?

One of 'em, yes I think I was.

Who wou'd ha' thought you kept such Company?

We did not know you, my Lord.

Sir Ruff, I assure you, takes it bloody ill of you; if it had not been in my house,

He Swears, he would have mauld some of you.

I don't know but he may send you a Challenge.

I hope not so, my Lord.

Nay, I'll make it up, if I can.

My Lord, you come very seasonably for the clearing of some dif­ficulties, that have happ'ned to night, in Relation to your Lady.

Lord! what does he mean?

I wou'd vindicate her Virtue, as much as I can, from any unreaso­nable suspicions, you may have of it, upon my account; and therefore declare, in the prefence of all this good Company, that I have no design upon any body in't, but this Lady: And here I offer to Marry her.

Nay then he does revenge himself indeed—

What say you, Madam?

Why, nothing, nothing in the World: Poor Rogue!

Silence gives consent, all the Town over.

Madam, your Ladyships interest would go a great way in perswade­ing her.

Nay, my Wife will be for it I'm sure.

Mr. Gayman, you may be sure of me—

Well, we shall live so pure and merry at one anothers Houses: Wou'd you were all Married, Gentlemen; there's no making a Friend throughly Welcome, I can tell you, without having a Wife of ones own to receive him.

O Law! Mr. Granger, what if you, and I, should make it the Double Marriage?

'Tis an Old Play, Madam, and will never take.

The Devil take him, I don't know what to make of him.

I know your thoughts, Maria.

Come, Madam, give me your hand.

Well, Sir, you may repent this rashness.

I may repent of some things that are past:

But I can never do any thing with you, to repent of.

How the Tyrant Triumphs!

You see, Madam, how happy you might make your humble Servant.

O Law! Sir! You don't think so.

Hey day! Here's my Aunt upon the prick of Preferment too: Sir Symphony, and she are agreeing to go to Bed together.

Well if it must be so—

Ay, ay, Uncle Symphony, with you joy of my Aunt Susan.

You do me the greatest Honour

In the World, Madam.

Gad so! Here's Siam too, the more the merrier, we shall want Company to dance at all these Weddings: You shall be my partner, Siam.

Wou'd I were unmarried, upon the Condition

I never danc't at a Wedding again.

What's the matter now, Siam?

Why the Captain has been drunkning with my Lord all night, and coming home in one of his damn'd old Humours, has beaten me black and blue, and turn'd me out of Doors.

How's this, Captain?

We'll pull the old Rogue to pieces; beat his Wife!

Why Dolly, Dolly, you shou'd bear with the failings of your Lord and Master—

I do bear with your failings, you know I do,

You old fumbling Fool you.

And not betray the secrets of my Dukedom, the Mysteries of our Bed, and Board, Dolley.

I'le be plagu'd with you no longer: I'le give you a separate Main­tenance, and be rid of you.

I'le come in for my thirds, Dolly, that you know the Law will allow me: But let's see your

Well, Granger, you are still to continue a Batchelour, it seems

Why faith, Sir, 'tis as much as a Man can do, to secure a Re­putation, in his own keeping; he need not venture it in a Womans: