ACT I. SCENE I.

I see thou retain'st the Spirit of thy Ancestors, and as thou wert born, and bred, w [...]lt live rnd dye a Footman.

Three halfpenny worth of Farthings!

The Master of it frank and free, to make an Invitation to the whole Town; and the Mistress hospitable, and handsome,

[Page 5] And I wou'd rather do any thing to deserve blushing, in another place, than by a Country modesty betray such an unpardonable want of breeding, to the censure of so much good Company.

I must own it, Madam, he ogles one more like a Man of Quality, than a­ny body about Town, that I know of, and I think I am pretty well acquainted with all the soft looks in Town.

I wou'd not lose the gaping Galleries of our Churches, for the best Religion in Christendom.

Of these Musical Entertainments; I am very Musical, and love a­ny call, that brings the Women together.

If you are for the Instrumental, there were the Sonata's to night, and the Chacons, which you know—

Not I, Sir, I don't know 'em: they may be two Italian Fidlrs of your ac­quaintance, for any thing I know of 'em.

Fye, fye, Fidlers! Masters, if you please, Wilding, Masters, ex­cellent in their Art, and Famous for many admirable Compositions.

They would keep 'em at home: but they are for shewing their Show still, tho' no body cares for the sight.

She has satisfied her Relations enough in marrying this Coxcomb; now let her satisfie her self, if she pleases, with any body she likes better.

For a new Mistress: If you have a mind to be satisfied in this point, let me go along with you—

But the folly fall upon your o [...]n head: I have done my part, and 'tis your fault if you're idle—

And I could be contented to let him show his parts this way, as often as he pleas'd.

And so will I. That if she should fall from the frailty of the Flesh, in­to that folly, she will appear no Monster,

I desir'd you to sport off a little Gallantry with my Wife, to Entertain and Di­vert her, from making her observations upon me, and thou dost nothing but play the Critick upon her.

SCENE Changes to the Street.

Why this is a Spark, that has had the misfortune of being kick'd very lately, and I have helpt him to this occasion of repairing his honour, upon our very good friend, a greater Coward than himself:

This matter well manag'd, may turn to account; tho' you must not be seen to expose him, you may take the advantage of his exposing himself.

And let her say what she can, upon this subject, I believe no Woman can be contented to have her Honour, much longer than her Fortune in the possession of a Man, who has no fund of his own, to answer in security for either.

ACT the Second, SCENE I.

SCENE II.

SCENE III.

Better, nor worse, than I do of all the young men in Town: For I believe you wou'd now resign her to any body else, with as much satisfaction, as you got her for your self: I know most of those matters end in the benefit of the Publick: and a little of your ill usage (which you will take care to sup­ply her withall) may make her one of the common goods of the Town: But that's a ruine I wou'd prevent if I cou'd: Therefore, to save you the labour of getting rid of her (for that's the only design you have now upon her, I'm sure) I came to spare your good Nature the trouble, by making you a very fair Offer.

Very reasonable you shall find me, if you will but give over your far­ther attempts upon her, (which now you may easily be persuaded to I sup­pose) and contribute, by your assistance, to my design of marrying her: I will engage my self and interest (which you know is very considerable in my own Sex) to serve you in any other Woman of my acquaintance.

Any Woman, of any Family or Condition, the best Friend I have I'll befriend you in, and thank you into the bargain.

But take this advice along with you; Raise the Scene of your affairs above the conquest of a Girl. Some of you Sparks think, if you can but compass a Maiden-head, though but your Taylor's Daughter's, you have setled a reputation for ever. Why, Sir, there are Maiden-heads among the Women of Quality, though not so many perhaps; but there are favours of all kinds to be had among 'em; As easily brought about, and at the same price of pains that you can purchase a Chamber-maids.

Why there's Mrs. New-love and her Cozen Tru-game, Mrs. Artist, Mrs. Dancer, Lady Smirket, Lady Woudmore; and twenty more of your Ac­quaintance and mine, all very fine Women to the Eye—

Why those very Women of Reputation to the World have every one of 'em, to my certain knowlege, an entrigue upon their hands, at this very time; for I'm intimate with all of 'em.

But, as fine as they seem to the Eye, Mr. Wilding, what with the false complexions of their Skins, their Hair and Eye-brows; with other defects a­bout e'm, which I must not discover of my friends, you know; with their stin­king breath in the morning, and other unsavory smells all the day after, they are most of them intolerable to any Man that has the use of his Nose.

Then there's Mrs. Faceall, a very fair Woman indeed, and a great Fortune: as much in shape as you see her, I have been a God mother to two of her Children, and she passes for a very good Maid still.

She past upon me I assure you; for I was very near marrying her my self once.

Chuse where you please, but I wou'd not advise you to any I have nam'd yet.

Little, or none, yet a while, I believe: Mr. Love-more has at present engaged her: But there's my Cozen Slightly! Lord, that I shou'd forget her so long! That I shou'd be so backward in serving a friend! She is the fittest Wo­man in the World for you; the most convenient for your purpose, in all the Town; easie in her humour and fortune, and able to make her Lover so every way: She shall be the Woman.

I can and will make her so. We shall walk in the Mall this Morning, if you think fit to be there, it may introduce the acquaintance.

I don't doubt, but in a little time, to give you an opportunity, and the Lady an inclination of having it improved, but that must be your business; I'm a going about mine, to make her a Visit. Remember our bargain, Sir.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Not this fortnight! I had forgot my se [...]: But you may say, I went out by five in the morning; and you don't know when I come back. Go, tell him so.

Pox on him, what manner of man is he? Does he look like a man of business?

No, I warrant you; some Coxcombly Companion or other, that vi­sits in a morning; and makes other People idle, not to be idle himself. But can't you tell what he wou'd have with me?

Wou'd he were a Messenger: I cou'd be contented to pay the fees, to be secur'd in the hands of the Government for a fortnight. Well, This guilt is certainly very terrible. The Blow I gave Friendall was a very ill thing done of me; It lies heavier upon my Conscience this morning, than it did upon his Face last night.

There comes no good of being too forward upon these occasions—'twill require some Time to dress agen: 'tis Gaming-time at least.

Ay, ay, Sir, I'll go along with you; never doubt it Sir; you shan't stay long for me; I may dress time enuff for some Body, if that be your business: I'll do the Gentleman reason, I warrant him.

At your Friends Service: I serve upon these occasions sometimes, by way of second, or so, when I want employment of my own.

Why really, Sir, I beg your pardon, I'm sorry I must disappoint you; I never make use of a second; especially in such a Quarrel, as this is; where I am so much in the wrong already, that I am almost unwilling to engage in it any farther my self: Where is your Friend, pray?

O dear, Sir, don't let him wait upon me, bring him up, I beseech you—and d'ye hear Sir? I'm loath to justifie an ill thing, if he is resolved to be satisfied, why with all my heart, Sir, I'll give him the Satisfaction of a Gentleman, I'll beg his pardon; pray tell him so.

If fighting be his Employment, wou'd he were at it, any where else, and I fairly rid of him: I cou'd discover now that Lovemore set me on to affront him; that wou'd throw the Quarrel upon Lovemore: But then Lovemore knows me, and I must expect to be scurvily us'd by him if I do: Hang baseness; 'tis but begging pardon at last.

Sir you shall find me so; I scorn to do an ill thing, as much as any Man: I was last Night in the wrong, as every Man is sometimes; and I'm sorry for't: what would you have more Sir?

That won't do my business, begging my pardon: My Reputation's at Stake, and that must be satisfied, before you and I part Sir.

Lord, Sir, you are the strangest Man in the World; You won't oblige me to justifie an ill thing, wou'd you?

I mean, Sir, to give you any satisfaction, in reason; But I can't fight a­gainst my Conscience, if I were to be hang'd, Sir, not I.

No, Brother, that's a little too hard upon the Gentleman: You see his Conscience won't suffer him to fight with you.

Captain, I'll beg your Friends pard [...]n, in any publick Place, at the Mu­sick Meeting, if he pleases—

Or in full Mall, before the Beau's, or the Officers of the Guard; or at Will's Coffee-House before the Witts, or in the Play-House, in the Pitt, before the Vizard Masks, and Orange-Wenches; or behind the Scenes, he fore the Wo­men-Actors; or any where else, but upon the Stage; and you know, one wou'd not willingly be a Jest to the upper Galleries.

If none of these offers will serve his Turn, Sir, if your Friend will be satisfied with nothing but Extremities; let him look to himself, let what will be the Consequence; I must do as well as I can with him.

Sir, your most humble Servant You guess these Gentlemens business I suppose: I have offer'd 'em any satisfaction, in reason: But taking me, as you see, Sir, at a Disadvantage, two to one, nothing wou'd content 'em, without exposing my self, as a Rascal, to all the Town, Sir; now Sir, you are more a Gentleman I know, and they shall be damn'd, before I give 'em any other satisfaction, now I have a Man of Honour to stand by me.

For they are the Part of the Town, that a Man of Pleasure should secure a Reputation withal. Your Servant Sir. Lovemore, your humble Servant.

And glad to come off so: I was never so put to't, to bring my self off a Quarrel before, it had been impossible, if the Captain had not done a good Office between us, but I bore up as soon as I saw you.

But then 'twas too late. You had sneakingly begg'd his Pardon be­before: if you had sent to me at first, I wou'd have brought you off cleverly: Suppose he had carry'd you behind Southampton house, which he never intended, 'twas but falling down, or dopping your Sword, when you came there, to have sav'd all: but now you have ruin'd your own Reputation, and my Design upon him for ever.

What cou'd I do? he not only sent me a Challenge, but came himself to carry me along with him.

How? send you a Challenge, and come with it himself! That's some­thing odd; pray, let's see the Challenge.

There 'tis; make your best on't; the Paper will make admirable Crac­kers for a Lord. Major's Show, every word in't is as hot as Gun-powder, I'm glad I'm rid on't.

If this be Friendall's Stile, 'tis mightily mended of late: I have a Note of his about me, upon Child, for money, won at play: I'll compare 'em.—'Tis not his hand neither—Nay then there's more in't—This may be a Stra­tagem of his Wifes—I've seen her hand, and think this very near it: It must be so: But then Friendall's coming for Satisfaction, is an Argument he might send this Challenge: But coming at the same time, with it himself, is an Argument a­gainst him, that he knew nothing of the matter. For tho' he delivers his Love-Letters, he wou'd hardly deliver his Challenges himself: And for his coming here, Springam might put him upon't, from a reasonable Probability, that this Fellow was a Rascal. I don't know what to fix upon: This Challenge will be of use to me, with the Lady: I'll take it for granted, that she writ it, and proceed upon it accordingly.

Brother, if you have no farther Service for me, I must think of employ­ing my self, my Walk lies another way.

I'm glad you'r rid of this Business so handsomely, Mr. Friendall, and that Mr. Lovemore was by, at his begging your pardon.

When I undertake things of this kind, I always go thro' with 'em.

This is very well over, and I hope, you will take care to keep out of 'em for the future.

Every man has the misfortune of 'em sometimes, Madam.

But 'tis a prudent Man's part, to keep out of the occasion of 'em: And, in order to't, Mr. Friendall, I cou'd wish, you wou'd not make your House, as you daily do, one of the publick Places of the Town.

She's in the right on't indeed, Mr. Friendall, you are very happy in the Discretion of a good Lady, if you know when you'r well; there are very few Women wou'd quarrel with your good Nature, in this Point, Sir; But she has too great a regard to her own, and your Reputation, you see, not to apprehend the Malice of ill Tongues, upon the Liberties you allow in your Family, the graver part of your Friends take notice of it already, and let me tell you, Sir, are extreme­ly concern'd.

That they are past the pleasures of good Company themselves: Why really, Madam, I believe it: But they may say what they will, I shall do what I please: I live to my self, and not to the whimsical Humour of the graver part [Page 30] of my friends, and so you may tell 'em, good Madam, from your humble Ser­vant.

I'le go home with you, like a good Husband, Madam; but no man of fashion, you know, walks with his Wife; besides, there's a Noble Lord I must walk with.

Why, how have the men, at this rate, the impudence to think the Women shou'd not Cuckold 'em! if I had such a Husband, as old as I am, a'my Conscience, I believe, I shou'd use him as he deserved: But that's some comfort, use him as you please, no Body will think you wrong him; and let me tell you, 'tis a great thing to have the Town on ones side.

Nay, Faith and Troth, you have given him fair warning; if he won't take it, he must answer himself for all the miscarriages you can be guilty of, in your Conduct hereafter.

There's your Mrs. Friendall before us: I honour her Character as much as I despise her Husbands.

Tho' he has scap'd the publick discovery, if he knows him to be a Coward, it does my business still as well.

If I did not think him one, I wou'd put him to a tryal, he shou'd not so easily get clear off; for putting a Note into Mrs. Slightly's hand at the Musick-meeting.

It comes into my head, and you shall pay him the good turn: What if you put Mrs. Sightly upon telling his Wife of it?

I think so too my self; and you may be satisfied I'le do't; more out of a regard to the Women I value so much, than any design of promoting your Cuckolding the Fool.

Good grave Sir, the Plot is never the worse, I hope, for carrying your Friends interest along with the Ladys.

Make your best use on't, Lovemore; I'm contented you shou'd thrive together.

You are mightily injur'd indeed, Madam, to be persuaded to come abroad, so much to your disadvantage, such a delicate Morning, as this is, so much against your inclinations: But you'l know your int'rest better, in a little time, and me for your friend, I suppose, when you find the benefit of it.

Nay, Cozen, the Injury may be forgiven, for the pleasure of the walk, at this time of the Year.

Why, the very walk is to be lik'd, tho' there were no Body in it to like us: But there's a great deal of good Company in the Mall, and, I war­rant you, we'll have our share of the Commendation of the place, in spight of [Page 31] fresher Faces: You are sure of your part of it already.

Very much your Friend! I grant you indeed, every Woman, that is not wholly insensible, (and one wou'd not be thought insensible you know,) every Woman ought to have a Platonick Passion for one Man or other: But a Platonick Lover in a Man! is—

Why, he is a very unmannerly Fellow; he is not what he shou'd be; that's certain: As for the matter of Respect, which we keep such a clutter about, and seem to value so much in the Men, all that I know of it, is, that if any Man pretended to follow and like me, I shou'd never believe what he said; if he did not do something to convince me, I shoud think he affronted me extreamly; if upon the first handsome occasion, he did not offer me every thing in his power.

I hate a Blockhead, that will never give a Woman a reputable occa­sion of refusing him: 'Tis one of the best Complements a Lover can make his Mistresses pride and I never knew any man, that did his business without it.

And for your Mr. Wellvile, if I were in your place, I shou'd have something the better opinion of him, if he wou'd have a little worse opinion of me: But between you and me, I shou'd not like him for a Lover.

Who's here? Wilding and Courtall behind us? That Wilding, Cozen, is a very pretty Gentleman.

For his Discretion, and Conduct, his good Behaviour, and all that, Wellvile is his acquaintance, and will answer for: But his agreeable, easie Wit, and good Humor, you may take upon my word: You'l thank me, when you know him.

She's a Woman of her word: You see she has brought Mrs. Sightly along with her.

I never doubted it: She'l carry her to Supper in a Night or two: She's never the worse Bawd, I hope, for being a Gentlewoman.

A good Family indeed gives a countenance to the profession; and a Reputation is necessary to carry on the Credit of a Trade.

In pursuit of the Women I know: It hardly answers the Expence I doubt.

You have no reason to say so: There's a Lady before us, of your acquaintance, Mrs. Sightly by Name, of another opinion: I suppose, she thinks such an assurance, as his, in coming to the point, is more to the nature of the thing, than all your Ceremony and Respect.

She, Sir, the very same: I cou'd tell you a Secret, Wellvile; but you are one of those Fellows, that hate another Man shou'd lie with a Woman, tho' you never attempt her your self: I confess I am something of your mind: I think the enjoyment the dull part of an Intrigue, and therefore I give it over, when I see the Lady in earnest.

Why Faith, Wellvile, if you have temper to manage it, the Secret may be of use to you: Wilding, you know, never Debauches a Woman, only for himself; where he visits, in a little time, every Man may be received in his turn. You must know, 'twas Wittwoud put him upon Mrs. Sightly, she knew what she did I suppose, and has promised him a good Office, in her way: make your advantage of what I tell you; but not a Syllable to any one.

O Courtall! here are a Couple of Vizard-masks have set upon me in the next Walk, and I wanted thee to take one of 'em off my hands.

(solus) I'll think no more on't, 'tis impossible: what's impossible? no­thing's impossible to a Woman: we judge but on the outside of that Sex; and know not what they can, nor what they doe, more than they please to shew us. I have known Mrs. Sightly these seven years—known her! I mean, I have seen her, observed her, followed her: may be there's no knowing a Woman: but in all that time, I never found a freedom, that allowed me any encouragement beyond a friend—May be I have been wanting to my self—. But then she would not throw her self away upon a common Lover; that's not probable: If she had been affectedly reserv'd, I wou'd suspect, the Devil in her heart had stampt the sign of Vertue in her looks, that she might cheat the world, and sin more close. But she is open in her carriage, easie, clear of those arts that have made Lust a Trade—Perhaps that openness may be design—'Tis easie to raise doubts—And still she may be—I won't think she can—till I know more: But Wittwoud is, I know her, every thing that's mischievous; abandon'd and undone; undone her self, she wou'd undo the Sex: she is to bawd for VVilding: I know her bad enough for any trade. But Bawds have some good Nature, and procure pleasure for pay: VVittwoud has baser ends, A general ruine upon all her friends.

I have a little business at present; But I shall see you at the Play.

Another time, Good Mr. Friendall; You see I'm engag'd.

A Pox o'their Engagements: A Man can't make one among 'em O my most noble Lord.

I know you will upbraid me, Mr. Friendall; But I'll recover your opinion, and come and dine with you. Let's have Jack Dreyden and VVill. VVicherly, as you call'em: Some of these days, we'll be very witty together: But now I am your Servant.

This is a very unfortunate Morning with me: I have not walkt one turn with a Lord, since I came in: I see I must take up with the men of wit to day—O Mr. VVellvile!

Faith, Sir, I prefer a Man of Wit, to a Man of Quality at any time.

If she thinks VVittwoud her friend, after this, 'tis a sign she's pleas'd with with it, and there's an end on't.

Why, VVellvile, thou art cogitabund, as a man may say; thy head is running upon thy Poetry.

VVilding, Yours. But VVellvile, Prithee, what is't to be? A Song? a Tribue to the whole Sex? or, a particular Sacrifice? or, is't a Libel upon the Court, ha? (we'll keep your council;) or, a Lampoon upon the Town? What, I am a great Honourer, and humble Servant of the Muses my self—

Why, Faith Gentlemen, Poetry is a very pretty Amusement, and, in the way of Intrigue, or so, among the better rank of people, I have known a Paper of Verses go farther with a Lady in the purchase of a Favour, than a Present of fifty pounds wou'd have done.

O, Sir, 'tis the only way of purchasing a Woman that is not to be bought.

Gad so, let me write a Scene in it: I have a thousand times had it in my head, but never cou'd bring it about to write a Play yet.

I vow to Gad, but I have then, twenty times, I'm confident; but one thing or other always kickt it out again: But I promise you, I'll write a Scene for you.

Prithee, what is't? But be what it will; Here's my hand upon't; I'll write it for you.

You must know then, Sir, I am scandaliz'd extremely to see the Women upon the Stage make Cuckolds at that insatiable rate they do in all our mo­dern Comedies: without any other reason from the Poets, but, because a man is married he must be a Cuckold: Now, Sir, I think, the Women are most unconscionably injur'd by this general Scandal upon their Sex; therefore to do [Page 34] 'em what service I can in their vindication, I design to write a Play, and call it—

Ay, what, I beseech you, I love to know the Name of a new Play.

A very pretty Name faith and troth; and very like to be popular among the Women.

What Characters? Why I design to shew a fine young Woman marry'd to an impertinent, nonsensical, silly, entrigueing, cowardly, good for-nothing Coxcomb.

For such a Character, Gentlemen, will vindicate a Wise in any thing she can doe to him. He must be a Cuckold.

I am satisfied he ought to be a Cuckold; and indeed, if the Lady wou'd take my advice, she shou'd make him a Cuckold.

I have not yet determin'd how to dispose of her. But in regard to the Ladies, I believe I shall make her honest at last.

I think the Ladies ought to take it very ill of you, if you do: But if she proves honest to the last, that's certain, 'tis more than the fellow deserves. A very pretty Character this, faith and troth.

Gad, I believe, I can help you to a great many hints, that may be very serviceable to you.

I design to make use of you: We, who write Plays, must sometimes be beholden to our friends. But more of this at leisure.

Nay, indeed, Mr. Lovemore, as matters are manag'd between the men and women of the Town, 'tis no less a blessing for a Lady to have a Husband that will but so much as offer to fight for her and her honour, than 'tis for a Husband to have a Lady, that has any honour to defend: There's such a de­pravity in Matrimony, o' both sides, now-a-days.

VVhy, good Madam, is it such a business, for a Man to offer to fight for his VVife?

All that I know is, the Man that wou'd not fight for me, shou'd do nothing else for me.

As you say, Madam, (to Mrs. Teazall) A Man of honour is a great blessing in a Husband; such as Mr. Friendall has shown himself to be. And [Page 35] here's a Lady will value the blessing as it deserves.

Fulsome and foolish! let's hear no more on't: They don't think this can blind us:

If you were not inclin'd to it before, Madam, this last behaviour of his wou'd engage you to value such a blessing as you ought.

I have something to tell you, Madam, if you wou'd but allow me; this is no place.

You'll find a time I warrant you. Ladies the Mall begins to thin.

VVell, Sir, since you declare your self in love with the Lady, and I am not, I promise you, and you may trust me, I'll never follow her more.

There's nothing to be done here; You've outstay'd your time; But we'll call at the Chocalate-house in St. Alban-street, as we go home; You may meet us there by accident, you know.

If I were to be hang'd now, I must meet 'em there; though I have gi­ven my word to the contrary.

I see there's no knowing a Whore master by his Face; He looks like a modest, civil Gentleman.

Your friend, Mrs. Wittwoud, Madam, may be of

that good natur'd opinion that Lovemore is familiar with the Husband, only to be more familar with the Wife. But you must be cautious of what you say; for fear we turn the Scandal upon you.

Pardon me, Madam, I have the freedom of a friend: But Mr. Friend­all declares he is in love with you; And after that, the good natur'd Town (whatever they believe) will go near to say, that your familiarity with his Wife may be in order to the Husband.

This is not only to be accountable for our own conduct, but to an­swer for all the indiscretion of the Mens.

It wou'd be but an ungratefull piece of News to Mrs. Friendall, if I should be serious enough to tell her of it.

'Twou'd be more ungratefull to her, if any body else did; and wou'd go near to make you serious, if another should tell her for you.

Nay, Madam, if it be considerable enough to make a breach in Marri­age; You may be sure 'twill make a breach in Friendship: And how much that will be to the advantage of your reputation upon such an occasion—

I am convinc'd you are my friend, Mr. Wellvile, And thank you for this care of me.

This is the Aunt wou'd ha' been upon your bones, I assure you, if I had not deliver'd you.

There's but one way now to please her. You must know she has been in her time; like other women, in at most of the pleasures of this Town; But being too passionate a Lover of the Sport, she has been,——, a Bubble at all Games: And having now nothing to lose but her money, she declares for Lanterelow, and is contented to be only cheated at Cards.

Why, what do you think, Ladies? these Gentlemen here, in spight of the temptation of so, much good Company, refuse to dine with me.

We'll visit you at Night, Ladies, in Masquerade; when the privilege of a Vizard will allow us a Conversation, out of your forms, and more to our humour a great deal, Ladies.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

MR. Friendall, You have the best VVines, and the greatest choice of any man in Town.

There's an elegance in Eating and Drinking, Gentlemen, as well as in VVriting.

How did you like the Lucina I gave you, the Galicia, the Mountain-Alicant? You taste the Sun in them perfectly, Gentlemen.

Then the Aracina, the Ranchio, and the Peralta, the Carcavelis, the Lacrymae, the Schiveas, the Zephalonia, the Montalchyno, with all the Mus­chatellos, [Page 37] and to conclude, my single Bottle of Tockay.

A Friend of mine, that brought the Tockay from Buda, assures me, the stones of all those Grapes are Gold.

Nay, not unlikely: But of all the VVines of all the Climates under the Sun—

Ay, that may be: But of all the Wines, Pagan, or Christian, in the World, I think the Borachio the Noblest.

'Tis of the roughest kind indeed of Beasts, wou'd he were in the Skin of one of 'em.

True; but 'tis a Dutch Wine, and grows in the Province of Zealand, I have drank it upon the place.

But, Mr. Friendall, pray in all your variety and interest among your Friends in the City, have you not sometimes met with such a Wine, as the Vine de Short-Neck?

Vine de Short-Neck? Yes, I have drank of it at Thompson's, and was the first that took notice of it; but 'tis a Prohibited French Wine, and I have too great an Acquaintance with the Members of Parliament, not to Drink ac­cording to Law.

This is Havanna indeed; but then 'tis wash'd: Give me your dry Powders, they never lose their Scent: Besides, yours is made of the Leaves of the Tobacco—

Mine, Sir, is right Palillio, made of the Fibres, the Spirituous part of the Plant; there's not a pinch of it out of my Box in England; 'twas made I a [...]ure you to the Pallat of His Most Catholick Majesty, and sent me by a great Don of Spain, that's in his Prince's particular Pleasures.

Ladies what say you to the Fresko of the Garden? we'll Drink our Tea upon the Mount, and be the Envy of the Neighbourhood.

The plain Canton, the Nanquin, the Bohe, the Latheroon, the Sunloe, or which? Ha!

Faith, No, Sir, there came but little of it over this Year; but I am promis'd a whole Canister by a Friend of a considerable interest in the Com­mittee.

My Bohe, at the best hand too, Cost me Ten Pound a Pound, but I have a Tea, with a damn'd Heathenish hard Name, that I think I was very much befriended in, at an Indian House in the City, if you please, we'll have some of that.

'Tis in my Cabinet, Mr. Friendall, I must order it my self for you.

That Madam must make the Complement the greater to the Compa­ny: Allons, you know the way, I wait upon you.

This way she must come, she can't avoid me, thanks to the honest Husband.

Are you one of the Gentlemen that love the Tea with a hard Name?

Faith, Madam, I must love any thing that gives me an Opportu­nity—

Stay, this Violence, if you can call it Violence on my Knees, excuses you to all your Female Forms; nay, to your self, severer than your Forms, if you should stay and hear me.

Every thing is matter of your Praise, the subject of fresh wonder: your Beauty made to tire the Painter's Art, your Wit to strike the Poet's Envy dumb.

With the Spirit of Scandal I may, a small matter Conjures up a Lam­poon against the Women—But to the purpose, Sir, you pretend business with me, and have insinuated a great deal of pains all this Day to get an occa­sion of speaking to me in private; which now, by Mr. Friendall's assistance, you think you have ingeniously secur'd: Why, Sir, after all, I know no business be­tween us that is to be carried on, by my being alone with you.

Why, Sir, any man that's Brute enough may do it, tho' that Brute shou'd beg your Pardon never so publickly for the wrong, you wou'd never heartily forgive him, for pitching upon you.

Why, very well: You keep me here against my Will, against all Rules of Decency, to me, my Sex, and Character; the worst of Wrongs; yet you will think it hard to be Condemn'd, or Hated for your Light Opinion of me, that first encourag'd you to this design.

Ay, there's the business: Who wou'd not stay to see her Worship­per upon his Knees, thus Prais'd, and thus Ador'd? Her Beauty made to tire the Painter's Art, her Wit to strike the Poet's Envy dumb; and all deliver'd in such [Page 39] a dying tone, no Lady can out-live it. Mr. Lovemore, you might have known me better, than to imagine your fly Flattery, and softly Sing me into a Consent to any thing my Virtue had abhorr'd. But how have I behav'd my self? What have I done to deserve this? What encouragement have I giv'n you?

Perhaps 'tis from the general encouragement of being a Marry'd Woman, supported on your side by that Honourable Opinion of our Sex, that, because some Women Abuse their Husbands, every Woman may. I grant you indeed, the Custom of England has been very prevailing in that point; and I must own to you, an ill Husband is a great provocation to a Wife, when she has a mind to believe as ill of him as she can

Why then the Folly's hers: For my part, I have known Mr. Friendall too long, not to know justly what he deserves; I won't justifie his Faults, but because he does not take that care of me he shou'd, must not I have that regard to my self I ought? What I do is for my own sake: Nay what is past, which, by your hints, I know you do suspect, I own I did it; not for the Commendation of your VVit, nor as a Debt to him, but to my self, fore­seeing a long Life of Infamy, which in his Follies I was Marry'd to; and therefore sav'd my self by saving him.

Your Conduct every where is excellent, but there it was a Master­piece indeed, and worthy Admiration.

And wou'd you have me lose that Character, so worthy Admira­tion, which, ev'n you, an Enemy, must praise, when you wou'd ruin? No, what I've done to raise this Character, may be an Argument I will do more to heighten it, to the last Act of Life.

And all for the reward of being thought too good a VVife to such a Husband.

Fit to bear a wrong? Is that the reason of your wronging him? I want but that; O let me but believe you injure him, because you know you may; and attempt me, because you think it safe; and I will scorn you low, as you do him: You say you know him: Now, Sir, I know you, you, and your Practices, against us both: You have encourag'd all that has been done, expo­sing him, only to ruin me. 'Tis necessary to believe as ill of you as I can: And for the future, till you clear your self—

I le think you capable of every thing; of any baseness to advance your ends; so leave you to your Triumph.

Madam stay, I must be Justified: This Challenge here has taught me all I know; made me suspect who writ it, and presume all I have said to you.

Russle gave it me. I hope you may forgive my knowing it, since by resigning it into your hands, I give you up the only evidence, that can rise up against him: Such a piece of News, Madam, wou'd have been welcome e­nough to the ill nature of the Town; and I might have had my ends in such a report, had I encourag'd the exposing him: But when I saw how near you [Page 40] were concern'd, I had no other pleasure, but the thought of serving you; if I have served you, I am over-paid, if not, I must serve on. For I but live to serve you.

My employment calls upon me; Are not you for Tea?

I find I am restor'd, but I was reduc'd to the necessity of a lye to come into favour again; but that's a Necessity that every man of honour must sub­mit to, sometimes, that has any thing to manage with the women: For a Lo­ver, that never speaks more than the truth, is never believed to be a Lover: and he that won't lye to his Mistress, will hardly lye with her: So let his Ho­nesty reward him; the Lady won't, I dare say for her. There must be a cheat upon the sense sometimes, to make a perfect pleasure to the soul: For if the women did but always know what really we are; we shou'd not so often know so much of them as we doe: But 'tis their own faults; they know we can't live without 'em, and therefore ask more of us than we have honestly to give for the purchase. So, very often, they put us upon dissimulation, slattery and false love, to come up to their price. Mrs. Friendall went away a little abrupt­ly: I'm glad she did: for that methinks confesses an obligation which she has not yet in her power to return.

Lovemore, your Plot begins to thrive: I left Mrs. Sightly telling Mrs. Friendall every thing between her and Mr. Friendall: I thought fit to acquaint you with it, that you might be prepared: You know best what use to turn it to: my business is with Mrs. Sightly.

I thank you for the News: they'r coming this way, I wou'd not have 'em see us: I must hover here.

I am sorry you have reason to believe it upon my account: indeed, I was unwilling to believe it; I suffered it as long as I cou'd; but finding no end of this persecution—

You have us'd me like a friend, and I thank you—his Note since Dinner, desires you wou'd meet him at 7, at Rosamond's pond: You can't be so hard hearted to disappoint him?

The proof is plain enough: You say it: Besides, he has giv'n it under his hand here; And I believe the Gentleman, though you won't.

Or if you wou'd, let him know you have discover'd him, and upbraid him with his baseness before me—

That wou'd but harden him, or make him vain, By shewing a con­cern for him.

If you have any curiosity to be satisfied, I'll go with you to the place appointed.

Mr. Friendall, you must know, thinks him in love with me; So being a Rival, may make him avoid us: But Mr. Lovemore will do as well.

He knows it already; I made no secret of it, and Mr. Wellvile told it him.

Well, here's such a Clutter to get you to Cards: You have drank your Tea: what will you do next, I trow?

Why take a Napp, or smoak a Pipe, any body that has a mind to be private.

Why, faith, I was forc'd to set it my self: I don't know how you'll like it with my voice; but faith and troth, I believe the Masters of the Musick-meeting, may set their own words, for any trouble I shall give 'em for the fu­ture about mine.

Ay, Sir, he must have a Genius: There's no being a Master of any thing without a Genius.

I'll make the more of him, when I get him into my hands.

I have something to tell you, worth more than the Cards can win for you.

I go your halves, if you please, I don't care for playing my self.

Now, Mr. Wellvile, you have something extraordinary to say to me.

I have, indeed, Madam, but I shou'd prepare you for the Story, there are some Friends in it, that you will be concern'd to have an ill opinion of.

Then pray give me leave to ask, How long you have known Mr. Wil­ding.

I never spoke to him till this Morning, at the Chocolate-house, as we came from the Park.

And she has a mind to bring him acquainted with you. I'm sorry I must warn you of him: I was in hopes it wou'd have dy'd of it self: But his talking to you, at the Chocolate house, after he had promised never to follow you more, makes me apprehend, that he is still carrying on his design upon you.

He has a design upon you: And you have heard enough of his Cha­racter, to suspect the honour of any design he has upon any woman: But such as it is, your Cozen Wittwood, and very good friend, for ends of her own, which I can inform you in, has undertaken to bring it about. I see you are surpriz'd.

I never pretended to be a friend of Mrs. Wittwoud's, but now I hate her: and what I tell you, is not to ruine her with you; but of nearer conse­quence, to save you from being undone by her: This is not a Secret; I'll tell her of it my self; and my thoughts of her into the bargain: But, Madam, you know best, how far she has solicited his cause to you; how far my Story is probable; and whether you don't think, she persuaded you to walk this mor­ning in the Mall, in order to Mr. Wilding: That was the business of her visit to you, as he tells me, whatever she pretended to the contrary.

I am astonish'd my self, indeed Madam, not to find her as I always thought her, fit for any mischief: But to think she can pretend to be a Bawd, and provide no better for a friend: to sacrifice you to a Man, who wou'd tell all the Town of it, as well as Courtall, and has consessed to me, that he never was in love with you, nor had a thought that way, till she put it into his head, and promis'd to assist him in't.

Faith, Madam, if I might advise you, it shou'd be to a Man of honour at least; that can be so tender of a reputation, not to lessen a Ladies favour so far, to make it the common mirth of the Town: if you have any favours to dispose of dispose of 'em your self: let not another run away with the benefit [Page 43] of your good turns: I have been an old Admirer, Madam; and I hope stand as fair, and have as good a Title to put in my Claim, as any Man of her pro­viding.

So, Sir, then it seems you think I must be provided for, and therefore these Advances must please me: I have some reason to believe what you say of my Cozen VVittwoud, but I have no reason to think you very much my Friend; she has betray'd me, and you are pleased to think I deserve it: I thank you for your Caution; but it shall secure me for the future, against her and you: For as much as I thought you my Friend; nay, though I languish'd for you, the encouragement you are pleased to make, from other Peoples Base Opinion of me, shall teach me to despise you.

Nay, nay, I have done with you: If this be your fair play, there's no danger of your soul; why you make no Conscience of Cheating any Body out of your own Gang.

Conscience at Cards Cozen! you are a better bred Lady than to ex­pect it.

Conscience, Madam, is for serious Affairs, no Body minds it at play.

Nay I'm ev'n right enough served, I deserved it, that's the truth on't: I must be playing with Company so much younger than my self, but I shall be wiser for the future, and play the Fool in my own form, where I may Cheat in my turn.

If you speak of your Losings, Madam, I believe my Fortune has been harder than yours; in Ten Sets running with Mr. Wilding, I n [...]ver turn'd one, nor had Comet in my hand.

Nay, if you win her Money, you may win every thing of her, if you know how to manage your Game.

Lovemore, prithee keep the Company together; I have an appoint­ment upon my hands, and must leave you: We must serve one another some­times, you know.

Madam, the Jew, newly turn'd Protestant, that my Master was God-father to, has brought the Essences and Sweet-waters he order'd him to rastle for.

Like other wise Men, he's for saving Soul and Body together, I war­rant him.

SCENE Changes to the Garden.

Never think of denying, or excusing it to me, I am satisfied there's more in't than you ought to defend, there are so many Circumstances to con­vince me, of your Treachery to me, I must believe it

I see Cozen, you will believe any thing against me: But as I hope to be sav'd, upon the Faith of a Christian, and may I never rise off my Knees in­to your good Opinion agen, if I don't abhor the Villany you lay to my Charge; something I must confess to you, but I beg you to forgive me, 'twas unadvis'd indeed, but innocent, and without a design upon you: Courtell's a Coxcomb, and nothing but VVilding's Vanity, or VVellvile's Revenge, cou'd be accessary to the Ruin of me with you, the only Relation I love and value in the World.

O! I had forgot the pains you took to secure me, to Morrow Night at Cards, at your Lodgings with Mr: VVilding: Cozen, let me tell you, a Bawd is the worst part of an Intrigue, and the least to be said for't in excuse of the In­famy. But you had something more than a Lover to provide for me, or you wou'd not have expos'd me to a Man that wou'd expose me to all the Town; is it because I have been your best and last Friend, (for you will hardly find such another in your Family) that thus you reward me for the Folly? Or is it be­cause I am a witness of your Shame, that you wou'd be a Contriver of mine? I know, (and I look upon it as a Judgment upon the former Follies of your Life,) that you are notoriously abandon'd to the Beastly Love of a Fellow, that no Body else can look upon; and, may be, you are mischievously pleas'd to make me as despicable as your self, there must be the Devil in the bottom on't, and I'le fly from him in you.

O! don't leave me in this Passion, I am utterly ruin'd if you go; up­on my Knees I beg it of you.

Cozen, I forgive you; what's past shall be a Secret for both our sakes; but I'm resolv'd never more to come into your power; so farewell, and find a better Friend than I have been.

She's lost, and my design upon her, which is yet a greater misfortune to me.

O! Sir, I am obliged to you—and you are oblig'd to your self for your success with Mrs. Sightly; so like a Boy, to discover the Secret, before 'twas in your power to expose! Away, I'le have no more to say to you.

So, Sir, you have made fine work on't with the Woman. I thought I had satisfied you in the Mall this Morning.

Sir I must be better satisfied than I was in the Morning, I find there's no relying upon your word, since, after your promise, never to follow her more, you cou'd excuse your self to me in the Mall, to meet her at the Chocolate House.

Nay then we have both our Grievances, and this must Answer 'em.

Fie, Fie, Friends, and Fighting! that must not be Gentlemen, Mrs. Wittwoud has tole me the matter; and unless you had a Fourth Man to enter­tain [Page 45] me, you had ev'n as good put up agen: We are all in fault, and all deserve to be swing'd for't, that's certain: Wilding was a Fool for telling me of his de­sign, and I was a Fool for talking on't to VVellvile; and VVellvile no wiser than either, for making such a Bustle about it: Therefore pray Gentlemen let's agree in this Opinion, that by our own Prating, and prying into other Peoples Af­fairs, we often discover and ruin one anothers designs;

ACT V. SCENE I.

NAy I don't wonder you thrive no better with the Women, when you can part with such an Advantage over Mrs. Friendall: You say you have won a Summ of her, which she wou'd not be known to lose: Why, another Man wou'd take the priviledg of a winning Gamester, upon such an occasion to press her to a Promise, at least, of coming out of her Debt.

I shall improve, I find, upon the advantage of your hints: But Mrs. Sightly, Madam—

Ay, Mrs Sightly indeed: Was that a Woman to throw away upon the vanity of being talk'd of for her? In the time you were bragging to other Peo­ple, of being in her Favour, you might have been every where you desir'd.

I have made all the Excuse I could for you; some too, that in my Conscience I thought very unreasonable my self; and cou'd pass upon no Bo­dy but a Woman, that was easily dispos'd to forgive you.

Nay, she's pretty well prepar'd, but you must not think of speaking to her bare-fac'd, that she can't consent to for her own sake: You have made the matter so publick, she has Eyes upon her to be sure now: But it happens very luckily, Friendall has a Masq'rade to Night at his House: There, if you please, I can give you an opportunity of clearing your self to her.

Never think of defending your self, for what's past you were certain­ly i'th' wrong; and she thinks you so: You know well enough what to say to a Woman, that has a mind to believe you.

Go, you, and prepare for't: and depend upon me for your Intelli­gence.

I find I am declining in my Reputation; and will bring every Woman, of my Acquaintance, into my own condition, of being suspected, at least: I have pro­mis'd more than I can do with my Cozen Sightly; I have lost my Credit with her too lately, to betray her in the way of frendship—let me see—Betty—

[Page 46] You know where the Man lives, that made my Cozen Sightly's Scarf, go to him from me, desire him to borrow it, that a Lady may see it, who likes it, and de­sires to have one made of the same Pattern.—

I despair of bringing her to the Masquerade: I must personate her my self, and meet VVilding in her room: but what may be the Issue of that? Let what will be the Issue: the farther he presses his Design upon me, the further I carry my Design upon her: and for once, in Order to my revenge, rather than not ex­pose her, I'll venture to grant him the favour, that he may tell on't; and she have the benefit of the Scandal—

SCENE II.

Wou'd I were at home agen: I came upon a foolish discovery of his Actions, to be surpris'd in a very unaccountable one of my own.

That is, walking Incognito on this side the Park with a Man of your Character, Mr. Lovemore.

You are provided for, I see: The Ladies, I suppose, wish I cou'd say as much for them too: very gentile women both, faith and troth: I war­rant 'em Women of Condition, if not Women of Quality, by their assignation at Rosomond's Pond.

Why there's something in that too: and the truth on't is, my assig­nation is with a Woman of Quality.

Fy, fy, why shou'd you think so? But let her be who she will, if she disappoint me, I'll own it to morrow to every body—

She has the Air and Mein very much, of a Lady of my acquain­tance.

Not unlikely, faith: it may be she her self, for ought I know to the contrary: but if you have a mind to be satisfied—

She's but an ill-natur'd incumbrance, at this time; and you'll do me a favour to dispose of her.

Nay, if you are so free to dispose of her, I'm satisfy'd she is not the Woman I took her for: For, to tell you the truth, Lovemore, I thought 'twas [Page 47] my Wife: And, I gad, I began to be very uneasie; not so much, for finding her in your Company; as that she shou'd come so peevishly to disturb me, in an af­fair, so very much above her.

A Wife a fine Woman, Madam? I never knew a Husband that thought so in my life.

But some body else may, Sir, if you allow her to make these Enter­tainments for the Town, that I hear you do.

Gad so, Lovemore, prithee bring the Ladies to my Masquerade to Night; there's no body but People of Quality to be there, for pleasure is my Business, you know; and I am very well pleas'd, to allow my Wife the Liber­ties she takes, in favour of my own; for to tell you the Truth, the chief End of my marrying her, (next to having the Estate setled upon me) was to carry on my Entrigues more swimmingly with the Ladies.

One of the greatest, upon my word, Sir. For being seen so often abroad, and visiting with my Wife, I pass upon the formal part of the Town, for a very good Husband; and upon the Priviledge of that Character, I grow intimate with all her Acquaintance, (and, by the way, there's hardly a Family in Town, but I can contrive to come acquainted with, upon her account) there I pick and, and chuse in the very Face of their reverend Relations, and deliver my Billets my self.

Not at all: the Letters are but Copies one of another; and a Love-letter should be a Love letter, you know, passionate, and tender, who-ever 'tis design'd for. Ha! yonder are two Women in Masks! I must not be seen with you: Ladies, you know when you'r well, I suppose, by the Choice of your Man; make much of him, he's my Bosom-friend, and Confidant of my pleasures.

And you of his, I suppose? There's no pleasure without a Con­fidant.

Faith, Madam, I am of your mind: But Lovemore's a little too reser­ved, 'tis, at present, his fault, from a want of knowing the Town; but he'll mend of it, I hope, when he comes to have a Woman, worth talking of. Lovemore, not a word at home of seeing me here; as you value the Fortune of your Friend: Adieu.

I wou'd not be thought to do ill Offices, especially in Marriage, Ma­dam.

I don't think you wou'd; wou'd Mr. Friendall were as tender of wronging me,—

You have had a handsome Account of their Expedition: And we are both oblig'd to Mr. Friendall.

I am very well pay'd for my Curiosity of coming here: I suppose we shall have a Rendezvous of his Wenches, at the Masquerade; pray let's be ready to receive 'em.

SCENE, Mr. Friendall's House.

VVilding has his Eye upon us I see: I have something to say to him, in my own Person, and then I must change Scarfs with you: Be sure you are i'th' way.

You'r very welcome to't, Sir, I wou'd have you mistaken; and that you will always be, when you judge upon the Outsides of the Women.

You are for a stricter Examination, I find: There are Conveniencies for a full Discovery, in the next room, some Body will show you the way.

That's Sightly in the Scarf, and Wittwood with her, I suppose; I must not be mistaken.

I like the Freedom of a Masquerade, very well; but it confounds a Man's Choice.

Why, faith, I have a mind to be particular, if I cou'd but hitt upon the Woman.

And that you shall presently, little Captain, I'll put my self in your way.

With the Bush at your Back-side: You deserve to be whipt for your Witt, Sir.

Does she beat thee, little Master? Come a' me, and I'll make much of thee——

To use me worse; is not that, your Design? She has given me my Answer at once; you perhaps wou'd linger me thro' a Winter's Expectation, and not do my Business at last—

VVhy your Business, any VVomans Business, that has a mind to em­ploy me in't.

No touching me: I have an unfashionable Husband in the Company, that won't thank you, for making him a Cuckold—

I like your Company extremely; but I have a great deal of Business, and wou'd willingly be ridd of you, at this Time; but this Ring shall answer for me, till I see you agen.

Sir, Sir, if you have any Interest in the Family, pray let's have a Song, or a Dance, to divert us.

The Lady is better than you can expect: That's flie in the Em­broider'd Scarf. You must not speak to her, before the Company, take her a­side, by and by, in a Corner; She'll thank you for your care of her.

Lovemore, I am in disgrace with Mrs. Sightly: And can't find her, to come into favour agen.

That's she, that came in just now with Mrs Friendall: I'll direct you to one, by going to the other.

Every Woman carries her Cross in this World: A Husband happens to be mine, and I must bear it, as well as I can.

No more upon this subject, you have carried the Argument so far, 'Tis allowing what you say, to listen any longer. But Mr. Lovemore, I will give you what satisfaction I have in my power, and Praise is the reward of Vertue you know; I think you have proceeded like a Man of experience in this business, and taken the natural road to undermine most Women. I must doe you this stice, that nothing has been wanting on your side

And however you came by the knowledge of Mr. Friendall's weak­nesses, you have improv'd 'em as much as they cou'd bear upon the Conduct of his Wife: if they have not carry'd me as far as you design'd; 'tis the fault of my heaviness, perhaps, that can't be transported into the Woman you'd have me.

Mr. Lovemore, some Women won't speak so plain; but I will own to you, I can't think the worse of you for thinking well of me: Nay, I don't blame you for designing upon me, custome has fashion'd it into the way of li­ving among the men; and you may be i'th' right to all the Town: But let me be i'th' right too to my Sex and to my self: thus far may be excus'd: You've prov'd your Passion and my Vertue try'd; but all beyond that tryal is my crime, and not to be forgiven: therefore I intreat you, don't make it impossi­ble to me for the future, to receive you as a friend; for I must own, I wou'd secure you always for my Friend: Nay more, I will confess my heart to you: If I cou'd make you mine——

Pity her! She does not deserve it, that won't better her condition, when she may: But she's marry'd she says; why, that was the best of my reasons of following her at first; and I like her so well, as she's another Man's wife, I shou'd hardly mend the matter by making her my own. I won't think yet my two months thrown away upon her: One time or other, some way or other, I may be the better for her; at least with some other Women: but I begin to believe that every Man loses his labour this way sometimes.

Presuming upon the Scarf, which is very like yours, I ventur'd, and spake to her. I shou'd have known Mrs. Wittwoud I believe.

This Place is too publick for a Vindication of this Nature, if you retire into the next room, I may accept of your excuses, upon your Promise of good behaviour, and better Conduct for the future.

You will be the Man I see, Wilding: The Lady's withdrawn; don't let her stay for you.

Faith, Wellvile, 'tis a fortune thrown upon me; and since it came without my seeking, methinks, you should hardly think it worth your courting: She'll bring it about one way of other, you find.

I wou'd have you know so much, that she is not worth the honoura­ble care you have of her.

I have declin'd it as much as I cou'd in regard to a Friend; but when she follows me.

Nay, then I must convince you; I just lest Mrs. Sightly to come to you; She's now in the Company, and I'll carry you to hear me speak to her.———

There are Lampoons, Sir, I say no more; But I may do my self rea­son in one of 'em, and disappoint her yet of her disappointment.

Why then VVittwood has put another Woman upon me; and abus'd Mrs. Sightly and me: I am satisfied of the Cheat, and wou'd be assisting to the revenge of it if I cou'd.

Then leave it to me: Friendall's a property fit for our several interests: But Lovemore must employ him.

Faith, Madam, I am very fit for your purpose, at present, I have met with a little ill usage from a Lady; by not meeting with her: but you may be the better for it, if you please: You shall have the pleasure, and she shall have the reputation of the entrigue.

The rarest accident, Friendall; the reason that you were disappointed in the Park, I can tell you, was, the Lady had appointed to meet Wilding here: She is now withdrawn into the next room in expectation of him; which Wellvile, her old Lover, suspecting, has taxt him of, and ruin'd the design. Now if you wou'd have me, I'll keep up the jealousie between 'em, and give you an opportunity to go in to her.

By all means, Lovemore, this was unexpected, and done like a Friend; I owe you a good turn for't, be sure you keep 'em here.

Madam, here's a rude, unmannerly Gentlewoman presses in upon me, and refuses to pull off her Masque, as your Honour order'd.

You saucy Rascal you, I shew a better Face than thy Mother had, when she laid thee to the Parish, you Rogue: Prate to me, you Varlet! and an honester one, tho' I say it, than any of the Company: Here's fine work indeed in a civil Family! What, Are you asham'd of your doings, that you won't discover your selves?

Mistress, you have the natural privilege of a Masque. And being dis­guised in your own Face, you may say what you please.

Marry, come up here; Will nothing but a good Face down with you? a Woman has a fine time on't, with your finical fancy: but I want leasure to laugh at you.

Ay, ay, I guess at you: learn to speak without a question, You Fool, before you set up for a Witt.

Nay, good Mother, you had e'en as good pull off your Masque. You see you are discover'd.

Discover'd you snotty-nos'd Jacanapes! Wou'd I cou'd discover your Master; I wou'd send him a Note of your Name: You are not yet clean from School, and are setting up for the Women forsooth: You have been so us'd to be turn'd up for a Blockhead, as you are, for peeping into every bodys back­door, to find as great a fool as your self: Sirrah, Sirrah, a good Burch Rod for your Mistress; that wou'd tickle your tail, as you deserve.

Why the wicked ways of Living in this Town, are matter enough for the vexation of any Woman, that has a Girl to look after: God's my life! Can't you keep up your Masquerades, in the primitive institution of making Cuckolds, as it us'd to be, without bringing the young Wenches into the My­stery of Matrimony before their time? VVhere's my Niece among you? 'tis a burning shame to draw away a poor young Girl into these deboist gallop­ping doings, as you do.

Good Mrs. Teazall, not so censorious: Pray where's the harm of a little innocent diversion?

Innocent diversion, with a Pox to't! for that will be the end on't, at last: very innocent diversion indeed; why, your Musick-meetings, Dancing-meetings, Masquing-meetings, are all but pretences to bring you together: and when you meet, we know what you meet for well enough; 'tis to the same purpose, in good troth: all ends in the innocent diversion.

Well, make me thankfull for it; there's one civil Gentleman among you: and really there's a great deal of comfort in opening a poor Woman's case, to a discreet good-natur'd Gentleman: Pray, Sir, hear me; and if you don't allow that I have some cause for what I do, I will be contented never to see Coat-card, nor have Pam in my Pocket agen.

An untowardly Girl, to be sure, my Cozen Fanny, Madam: she has undone her self, and my hopes of a Husband for her: Gad forgive me, I have no Patience, when I think upon't: last night, VVittwoud forsooth, she carries her to the Musick-meeting; then one VVilding, an impudent Whore-mastering fel­low, he carries her home with him, which I cou'd forgive well enough too, if it ended there: but now, when all things were agreed upon, and Mr. Butty­bun was to give us a Supper, and sign the Writings, in order to Marry her to [Page 53] morrow; when the Baggage was call'd upon, to perform her part, whip, she had given us the slip, tuckt up her tail, and run a rogueing after that fellow agen: but I shall light upon her.

O, Sir, are you there? if there be any Justice in England for the Wo­men, I'll have you bound to the Good behaviour; I'll swear the Peace against you my self; for there's no-body safe, young or old, at this rate, if such Whore-masters as you are allow'd to do as you do.

I am bound already to behave my self like a Gentleman: I do what good I can, in my Generation; but injure no-body.

Sirrah, sirrah, you shall find you have injur'd my Niece, and me, be­fore I have done with you.

You won't bring it to VVestminster, I hope, to be decided, who has most injur'd her; I, by being civil to her, or you, by telling it to all the Town

And let the Company judge, who appears to be most her Enemy; I, in teaching her a very good Trade; or you, in endeavouring to break her, be­fore she's well set up in't.

I have put her in a very good way; if she manage it well, she'll make more on't, than her Mother made of her Matrimony.

And let the worst come to the worst, if she fails in this calling: she may begin in another, (as they do in the City sometimes) 'tis but setting up for a Husband at last.

Faith, Madam, I ha'nt seen your Niece since morning; and then Mrs. VVittwoud oblig'd me to give over my pretensions to her, upon the promise of procuring Mrs. Sightly for me.

We were just complaining of Mrs. VVittwoud's unkindness to you, as you came in.

She has been very busie all this night in carrying on an intreigue, be­tween your Niece and some-body: They are retir'd into the next Room; they went out at that door, if you have a mind to be satisfy'd.

I'm sorry, Sir, I [...] time to thank you for this favour: I must make haste, for I'm resolv'd to be satisfied.

What a pox! disturb a Gentleman's pleasures! and in his own House too! ha! VVittwoud here! Nay then, wou'd you had come sooner: Madam, I beg your pardon for some Liberties I have taken with your Ladyship: But, saith, I took you for Mrs. Sightly.

You see I had too great a respect for you, and therefore provided you a more deserving—

And one that had as good-natur'd a design upon Mrs. Sightly, as you had your self.

Nay, now, Gentlewoman, I think 'tis come home to you, and I am glad on't, with all my heart.

You have paid dear enough for that Scarf; you may keep it for a pat­tern for your friends, as 'twas borrow'd for: I won't insult over you, and am only pleas'd, that I have scap'd your snares.

That disappointment is my greatest Curse; and disappointments light upon you all.

And I gad she shall be mine now in spight of her teeth: For since I find she can be civil upon occasion, I shall beat her into good manners, if she refuses me.

Every thing has fallen so much to your advantage, that sure the sault I made may be forgiven: What amends I have in my power, I am ready to make you: my liberty, of what I have to give, is what I value most; and that is yours, when you consent to let me make you mine.

This is too sudden to be serious: when you're in earnest, you won't need an answer.

They are striking up a Peace on all hands, Gentlemen; we shall be left out of the Treaty.

Mr. Friendall, I'm sorry you thought it necessary to your pleasures, to make me a witness of my ill usage: you know I can, and have past many things, some Women wou'd think wrongs, as such resent 'em, and return 'em too: but you can tell how I've behav'd my self.

The unjust World, let what will be cause of our complaint (as there is cause sufficient still at home:) condemn us to slavery for life: And if by sepa­ration we get free, then all our Husband's faults are laid on us: This hard Con­dition of a Woman's fate, I've often weigh'd, therefore resolv'd to bear: And I have born; O! what have I not born? But patience tires with such oppressing wrongs, when they come home, to triumph over me; and tell the Town, how much I am despis'd.

I see we are both disappointed in this affair of Matrimony; it is not the condition you expected; nor has it the advantages I propos'd. Now, Ma­dam, since 'tis impossible to make it happy between us, let us ev'n resolve to make it as easie as we can.

And mine too, I assure you: look you, Madam, your own Relations shall provide for you at pleasure, out of my Estate; I only article that I may have a freedom of visiting you, in the round of my acquaintance.

What alteration this may make in my Fortune with her, I don't know; but I'm glad I have parted 'em.

VVell, Gentlemen, I can't be very much displeas'd at the recovery of my liberty, I am only sorry Wittwoud was the occasion of it: For an old blown-upon she-wit, is hardly an intreigue to justifie the separation on my side, or make a man very vain of his Fortune.