SIR Beetlehead Gripely liv'd in a great, ugly, old-fashion­ed House, somewhere in the City; in a Place almost as Obscure as That of his Birth, and as dark as his Deeds; and was a Money Scrivener, which (as I am told) is a devillish good Oc­cupation. In this he got, within [Page 2] the Space of Seven Years, an E­state of near 12000 l. and pur­chased him a Wife of his own Houshold, worth twice as much for her incomparable Qualities, had she been expos'd to Sale at a more convenient Market. Her Unmarried Names (I won't say her Maiden Names, though she was his Chamber-maid) were Winny Wagtail, of the Great and Notorious Family of the Wagtails in Castle-street, near Long Acre, not far from the Square, where, at present, I have an Apartment: But, upon her Marriage to Sir Beetlehead, she was Dignify'd and Distinguish'd by the Name and Quality of The Lady Gripely; by whom the Knight had Issue only Philandra; a Lady of most Prodi­gious and Various Qualifications.

When she was about Eight Years old she went twice a Week, [Page 3] besides Sundays, to hear either the Painful Mr. B..... Mr. D...... or Mr. F..... where she would Sigh and Weep as heartily, as if she were already in Love and De­spair; and would sing Psalms till she was e'en Black in the Face a­gain for want of Breath. — (Is not that better than to say she sung like a Nightingale? for I never heard a Nightingale sing Psalms.) These Acquisitions (doubtless) she had from her Observation of the Pious Lady her Mother, who (possibly) had been one of the Sweet Singers of Israel. At least, we cannot doubt that she was always one of the Fa­mily of Love. At Twelve Years of Age, the Beautiful and Zealous Philandra could tell who was the Fairest, who the Strongest, and who the Wisest Man, which I hope she has not yet forgot; since [Page 4] they were all for her Turn, espe­cially the last; for he had most Love, most Money, and most Honour. At Thirteen she could say all Perkin's Catechism by Rote, both Questions and Answers; and could give as good an Ac­count of all the Sermons she heard, as any of those that preach­ed 'em. Besides, she had a most Rapacious Apprehension, and Te­nacious Memory of all the new­est Jests and Songs about Town and Court; could quote you any part of the Academy of Comple­ments, as readily as her Teachers did the Scripture, and apply it more properly, and with less A­buse. At Fourteen she was sent to the Boarding-School at Hackney, not without the Tutelage of an Old Aunt by her Father's side, who died in less than a Twelve Month's Time of a Surfeit of those [Page 5] Vanities she daily saw there. Af­ter which, the Niece improv'd to a Miracle in all the Arts of Gal­lantry: Though, to give her her due, she was at First a very good Proficient in either of 'em; but now, all on a suddain, she became most perfect in all, in each, and singular of 'em. When she sung, the Angels would stand listening to her with their Fingers in their Mouths: What then d'you think poor Men would do? Why (Faith) nothing but hold their peace, that they might the better hear her; and silently wish, that they had the spoiling of so good a Voice. When she Danc'd, the Sparks have sworn that she was Begotten by Mercury: And I am apt to believe it; for, Men say her Father was a Thief by his Vocation, — But their Reason was, because she mov'd, as if she [Page 6] had Wings at her Feet. When she Writ a Billette doux, she did it with more Elegancy and Tender­ness than Madam Scaron [or Maintenon.] When she Dictated to Madam Montespan, the Letters she writ to Louis Le Grand. In short, she had an abundance of Grace in all her Words and Acti­ons, but the Devil a bit in all her Thoughts. Yet this I am oblig'd to say for her, that, not­withstanding all these Egregious Acquisitions, and Extraordinary Imbellishments, she was not Spi­ritually Proud, though the World may believe, by the Sequel, that she was Carnally Proud; witness the several Intrigues she had at the Chaste Boarding-School, be­fore she came to Converse in this Leud Town and Court: Not that she ever finish'd one, till a­bout the Eighteenth Year of her [Page 7] Tyranny. As to her Person, she was really very Beautiful, being extreamly like our late Famous Dutchess now in France, as near­ly resembling her as the Knight of Tunbridge, or my self, resemble the Figure of the late Incompara­ble Scaron; and she was as Cun­ning as t'other for the Heart of her.

While she was under Education, among the rest, Sir Blunder Slouch was her daily Votary. A Spark every way accomplish'd to bear the Marks of his Wife's Kind­ness to another Man; of a most easie and credulous Nature to the fair Sex; a tall, heavy, cold, phlegmatick Booby; a great Coward, and very Rich; by Pro­fession a Norwich Factor; a great Favourite of Sir Beetlehead's, so like him in his Intellects, Religion and Morals, that Gripely was re­solved, [Page 8] since he was not his own lawfully begotten Son, he should be his Son by Marriage; which (doubtless) he had brought to Perfection, had the Old Man li­ved but a Quarter of a Year longer.

Besides this Slouch you may be pleased to observe, that in the long and tedious Catalogue of her Adorers, there was found, as Ringleader of all those her well-affected Subjects and Slaves, the Lord Bellamant, a Beau of the First Rate, a young, beautiful Spark, of true Courage and Gal­lantry, and of near 5000 l. a Year Estate; of Wit and Humour enough to accomplish any thing he undertook. He and his Sister were Twins, wherefore (as I am told) they were born much about the same time. At most (as I am credibly inform'd by the [Page 9] Learned in such Cases) there could not be a Quarter of a Year's Difference in their Age: And they were so passing alike, that one of his Legs was not more like t'other, than she was to him, though his Legs were both equally proportionable and handsome. Their Stature was equal, their Complexion the same, being exceeding Fair; the Tone of their Voices alike soft and charming; each had a Mole on the Right Cheek, but his was not so obvious to Sight, because of his Perruke, and therefore rarely taken notice of. Their Thoughts and Passions proceeded as from one Soul; only Nature and different Education, according to their Sexes, had given Ara­bella (for that was her Name if you'll believe me; or, if you don't, I cann't tell how you'll be better satisfied) a greater share of [Page 10] Modesty and strictness of Vertue than her Brother.

On this Extraordinary Man Philandra thought she had be­stow'd her deceitful Heart: Nay and, I dare say, at sometimes she did most passionately and intirely love him. Letters past daily be­tween 'em, while she was un­der her yet innocent Exercises. But — as the Devil would ha't, (who ow'd her a spite, though I cann't tell for what; for, I'll be sworn, she never disoblig'd him wittingly in all her Life) one Day, as she was Dancing, she dropp'd a Letter which she had written in Answer to one of the Lord Bella­mant's; and who should take it up but that damn'd, eternal Cox­comb, Sir Blunder, who was most plaguily Assiduous in his Vi­sits to her, especially on Dancing Days. The Booby (it seems) [Page 11] could Read; and finding it In­scrb'd To the Lord Bellamant, whom he had seen there Twice or Thrice, began to be troubled with a swelling at his Nose, having some reasonable Jealousie, that Bellamant dress'd and talk'd some­what finer than he; though he could not allow him to be half so proper a Fellow — The witty Dog concealing his Resentments, clapp'd the Letter into his Pocket, as rightly imagining she would never look for it there: Nor truly did she miss it, till he had the Opportunity of Reading it as he was going for London in his Hackney Coach; when, relea­sing it from the fulsome Company of his Bills and Bonds, he found under Hand and Seal these Words following:

Uds Fives and Nines! (cry'd Slouch aloud) here's fine work! Are you taken with your fine Show! A poor, young Fellow, hardly Nineteen, with ne're a hair [Page 13] upon his Chin; and because (for­sooth) he can Dance! Soft and Fair! This Pace will never carry it. — Yet how shall I prevent it? — Oh! — I think I've found it out. — He's a Rank Papish, and Sir Beetlehead hates a Papish as bad as I do; which I do as utterly as Plain-dealing and Poverty. But if she Loves him, what then? — Why let 'em Marry in the Devil's Name, so I can but get her Father to disinhe­rit her; (which I should not de­spair of in the least were it not for her Mother; who is as Wanton, and altogether Vain, as she. In this perplexity he got at last to Gripely's old Enchanted Castle, where a great many Widows and Orphans lay Bound in Vellum and Paper so fast, that 'tis not expected they should e'er get loose till Doom's-day, when, 'tis thought, [Page 14] they may Hamper Him: But the old Fellow thinks 'tis a great while hence, and means to make all the present use of his Money that he can. Just at the Hall Door the Two Villains encountred; Slouch accosted the old One with a Face full of Concern, contrary to what he was wont coming from Philandra, insomuch that Sir Beetlehead himself took notice of it: What's the Matter Sir Blunder? (said he) How does my Daughter? Not so well as she should, (reply'd t'other) or as you would have her, I fear. How! how! (cry'd the Father) what mean you, Sir Blunder? Explain your self, ('pray) for I am in the Dark. (Which, no doubt, he was in any part of that curs'd Fabrick, without the help of Artificial Lights.) This Paper your Daughter dropp'd (said Sir [Page 15] Blunder) and I took it up un­known to her; out of which if you can pick any thing to your Satisfaction, I pray do. Sir. The old Man, taking the Letter, was forc'd to go into the Back-Parlour, that look'd into a Neighbour's Garden; where, by the help of Four Eyes, he made a shift to read it aloud in his Lady's hearing. At the end of it he rav'd out, Uds precious, my Lady! These are wicked Times indeed, when our Children are plotting the Ruine of their Parents, and con­triving the Infirmity of their Fa­milies. The Infamy, you mean, (interrupted she.) But where's the hurt of this? For I understand the Business. What if the Lord Bellamant have a Passion for her, and she for him? Where's the danger of it? He is a Person of Honour, he has a good Estate, [Page 16] and is a rising Man at Court. For my part, I could wish 'twere a Match. How, Madam, (cry'd Slouch rudely) Why he's a Papish! Ay, he's a Papish, my Lady! (echo'd the old dry Trunk) What of that? (said the young Lady of about Forty) Is not King James our Sovereign a Papist? No, no, my Lady (re­ply'd Threescore and Twelve) he is a Roman Catholick. That's the same Thing (said she.) You'll pardon me, my Lady (returned Gripely) for every Subject who is that way given, though he were a Duke, is a Papish; and the King and Queen only are Roman Catholicks. Well but (interru­pted she) what danger do you apprehend from your Daughter's Marrying to this Papist-Lord? What danger? (cry'd the old Knight, straining his Voice; which [Page 17] threw him into a violent Fit of Coughing, that forc'd out one of his Nine Teeth.) Uds pre­cious, my Lady! why; Fire, and Faggot, and Gun-powder, and Squibs, and Crackers, and Ser­pents, and Devils, and Papists, would continually be Buzzing and Sputtering about our Ears; and not a Corner of our House would be free from a Dark Lanthorn. No, no, I'll ha' no Papish Son-in-Law I can assure you, my Lady. There­fore Reins our Butler, Porter, Groom and Coachman shall make ready the Coach, and I'll fetch her Home to Night before to Morrow. Indeed, Madam (said Slouch) 'tis the only way to prevent the Ruine both of her Soul and Body. Why of her Bo­dy? (ask'd the Lady-Mother) good Sir Blunder! mayn't a Pa­pish Lord Do as well as a Presby­terian [Page 18] Knight? But — no mat­ter — if my Lovy Sir Beetle­head is resolve t have her home, I hope I may bear him Company to fetch her. With all his own poor Heart, (replied Gripely, chucking her under the Chin.) Thou art my dear Bird, and my most Kind and Dutiful Lady-Wife. Sir Blunder (said the Lady) I suppose you may spare your self the Trouble of a second Visit to my Daughter this Day. She will have time enough to thank you for your Care at her Return. Slouch was not altogether such a Booby, but he perceived it was a kind of Reprimand by the manner of her Address to him: Wherefore he only made a si­lent slovenly bow. And they proceeded in their short, but tedious Journey. You may be­lieve 'twas tedious to the Lady-Mother, [Page 19] because Reins was ob­liged to drive very slowly and gently, for fear of breaking, or at least disjointing, his Aged Ma­ster's Bones.

No sooner had Sir Blunder had his Audience of Congé at the Boarding-School, than Philandra was accosted with the most pro­found Respects of a strange Gen­tleman, who fell passionately in Love with her there that very Afternoon; who, though he was not Dignified with any Title of Honour, or Quality, above that of a Gentleman, yet was eminently distinguish'd from most of his Degree, by an Estate of near 6000 l. a Year; and add to this the Advantages of his Person, Mind, and Education; which were all very extraordinary; and you will conclude he must certainly succeed in any Amorous Attempt. [Page 20] You must be acquainted with him by the Name of Worthygrace; which Name his Family had born time out of mind. — (Faith) I cannot particularly tell you how long, but you may assure your self 'twas ever since they were so cal­led. He had inquired (it seems) of her Birth and Fortune: The last of which (possibly) he lik'd as well almost as her Person. Their Circumstances was most agreeable in every point, but one; and that was in Age: For he was near Thirty, and she not Seven­teen. Madam (said he, approach­ing her with Mr. Stepwell her Dancing-Master, who had the Honour of his Acquaintance) I come to make my most humble Acknowledment to you, of the greatest Obligation that you could possibly place on a Person, which is yet so perfectly miserable as to [Page 21] be altogether unknown to you. Sir, (reply'd the Fair False One) your Discourse is absolutely as strange to me, as your Person; yet, tho' they are both surprising, I will not call 'em troublesome; nor shall I be yet Curious to know what the Obligation is you talk of: Yes, Madam, (In­terrupted he) it is but necessary you shou'd be sensible, that you are the sole occasion of my making the best use of all my Travels; since, for your sake alone, I return most passionately in Love with my own Country. I see, Sir, ( return'd Philandra) you take the liberty of a Travel­ler; and I hope, I shall not hazard my Salvation in not believing you. If you wou'd make more use of your Reason, Madam, (re­joyn'd he) and less of your Mo­desty, I am confident you wou'd [Page 22] be of my Faith: However, if you will not, I shall endeavour by all the most constant and Reli­gious Respects of your most Faith­ful Adorers, to let you see, that I must Dye in this Truth, without a possibility of being convinc'd in my Perswasion of it. I am sor­ry, Sir, (reply'd she) that you are so obstinately resolv'd to Dye in a Heresie, tho' it shou'd be really at present, your unhappy Opinion. A great deal more of such stuff pass'd between 'em; but I hope, I am not oblig'd to re­member it all: At the end of which, or (unhappily) before, the Old Grey Puss, or Governess of the House, call'd her aside; for she watch'd her as narrowly, as a Cat does a Mouse. At this unex­pected interruption, our good Friend Worthygrace had like to have lost himself and all Patience, [Page 23] and was about to have made some Outlandish Prayers for her; that sound as loud as our English Cur­ses, and might have signifi'd as well no doubt, but he pay'd her with thinking. Yet, to speak truly of him, he was not so re­vengeful as Amorous: So that, he thought it more necessary to apply himself to Stepwell for a second interview, than to an Apo­thecary for Arsenick for the Old Cat.

He had not been a Traveller for above Ten years together, without having Learn'd what was the best Speech, wherefore he Address'd to the Maître de Dance, in the most Elegant Dialect of an Hundred Guineas, which did his Business to some Tune, as far as it lay in Monsieur Coupé's Talent. Let us leave 'em then, hatching their Egg for this young Cocka­trice; [Page 24] who was now retir'd into her Chamber, where she began to search for her Letter to the Lord Bellamant, in order (perhaps) to Examine and Correct it.—But (Ah, unparrallell'd Misfortune!) she might as soon have found the Epistle to the Romans in her Bo­som; which I dare say, never came nearer her Dainty, White, Smooth, Downy, (what shall I say!) Skin, than her Pocket or Glove, unless it were at her fingers ends.—She caus'd her Attendant to undo her Gown, unlace her Stays, and she her self peeping down her Shift, expos'd such Beauties to the God of Day, as had he then been as young as when he pursu'd Daphne, he had certainly left her for the Fairer Prize Philandra; nor (I fancy) wou'd she have been half so skit­tish.—What d'you call this now? [Page 25] A Flight?—'Tis a fine thing to have Read!—A Flight let it be then, because one ran away.—But all this Beauty and all these Charms, cou'd not charm back her Letter to her. No, I can't tell, whether Gadbury, Par­tridge, or Coley, cou'd have Con­jur'd it from Old Gripely; for he was surely a greater Devil than any they deal with; supposing, they piss in a Quill with Satan himself: And now were the Stars call'd to account for their inad­vertency, in a matter so nearly concerning her; but whether they heard or not, I will not po­sitively say; tho' it is my opini­on, that her Sister Venus sent it to her again, by the hand of Sa­turn; yet contrary to my expecta­tion or desire; for just as he was in the heighth of Despair and Rage, Enters Old Gripely, and her [Page 26] own Dear Lady Mother: Daugh­ter (cry'd the Old Testy Knight) (I can't say Gentleman) look you, here's a Letter for you, 'tis worth your notice, but you must stay to Read it till you come home.— In the mean time (pursued he, turning to her Servant) Maiden, pack up your young Lady's Trumpery and your own; that we may take 'em along with us in the Coach. Upon sight of the Superscription, Philandra soon guess'd how it dropt from her Bosome into her Father's hands. O base, Unbred, boobily Fellow, (cry'd she to her self aside) to be­tray this unfortunate Paper to more unlucky hands. Nay, ra­ther (Interrupted her Mother who overheard her, and spoke softly) most unmindful and regardless Crea­ture, so to Dispose of what might for ever Oblige or Ruine thee: [Page 27] But no more, restrain your Passi­on: I'le see to compose all this to your Satisfaction. Come ( cry'd Old Gripely) we'll take a fair leave of your Mistress, and you may bid farewel to your School-fellows; by that time Mariana will have got all things ready. Just at these words, in came the Old Beldame, with her shaking Head, and her Heart trembling, for the loss of so good a Scholar; which she learn'd from Reins, was to be the ungrateful Consequence of this unseasonable Visit; and while the Parents were making their Apology, for so unexpectedly taking home their Daughter; Philandra made sh [...]ft unperceiv'd, to convey a little Cabinet Cramm'd with Epistles of her Lovers, to a young Lady some­times her Bedfellow and Confi­dent, whom she instructed, how [Page 28] and when to dispose of it; re­turning time enough to receive her Governesse's Sage Advice and Prayers; to whom she return'd thanks in Gales of Sighs, and Floods of Tears; to think, she must now lose those dear oppor­tunities of Hearing and Relating with several of those pretty young Creatures her School-fellows, how often, how near, each of 'em were only like to have been un­done, thro' some malicious disap­pointment of their Cruel Stars, which had more care of their Happiness than they themselves; besides a thousand other such ad­vantages, which now she fear'd she must forego.

But to be short,—home they got about Nine at Night; where her Father gave her a round rally, which she took so much to Heart, as she went to Bed, and resolv'd [Page 29] not to see the Sun, as long— as—she stay'd within doors. (which Resolution she cou'd not avoid keeping, unless she got to the top of the House in a fair day; and then you'l say (perhaps) she was not within doors.) But she really kept her Bed for three or four days, and affected a deep Me­lancholy, which was at length attended by an ugly Distemper, call'd the Itch of Gadding Abroad. In the Cure of this, her Pious Lady Mother was very instrumental; for after having caus'd her to be let Blood, (which then was not very unseasonable, the Summer being very moderate) and after one Dose of Pills, with some Good, Costly, and Comfortable Cordials, she easily prevail'd with Mr. Physmacary, (who was both Doctor and Pothecary in Ordina­ry to that Blessed Family) to a­gree [Page 30] agree with her, that it was most expedient her Daughter shou'd take a little fresh Air. This was easily accorded to by Old Gripely, for he knew that ten miles of the best Air, wou'd not cost him half so much, as two Ounces of the worst Cordial; and the next day was prefix'd for it.

During the Malignancy of her Distemper, which reign'd chiefly in her Head, (where it does in most People of her Youth, Hu­mour and Circumstances) the Lord Bellamant had been to pay his Devoirs to her at the Boarding School: There he heard of her suddain removal; which tho' at first, it startled him, yet on se­cond thoughts he propos'd greater advantages to himself by it. And his last Design was to get his Twin-Sister Arabella, to Accom­pany Aurelia, Philandra's some­times [Page 31] Bedfellow and Confident, in a Visit to her; which she re­ceiv'd the Afternoon. She was once again, at least, to be blest with the sight of the Gay World, and the Scent of the Court Air, intending for St. James's Park. You may imagine, she was not a little pleas'd at the sight of her Dear Confident, and of the Lady Arabella; which last brought the Beauties of the Lord her Bro­ther so fresh in her Memory, that Philandra had like to have fallen into a fit of Sickness indeed: To think it was not that Substantia▪ Figure she would have seen at her Bed-side, or rather have Embrac'd in her Bed. After the two young Ladies had condol'd with the La­dy Gripley, who was still present, the cruel Malady of her Daugh­ter; the indulgent Mother, know­ing by her own past Circumstan­ces, [Page 32] that the presence of a Parent might cause some restraint in their Freedome of Discourse, very Modestly and Kindly withdrew; Philander's Attendant waiting on her to the door, she not permit­ting her Daughter the trouble of that Ceremony: By which means Arabella had the opportunity of presenting Philandra with a Let­ter, which her Brother had trust­ed to her discreet mannagement, to deliver to Philandra's own fair hands; which, tho' at all times they were exceeding fair, yet, now, by this white,—as— (Ah! wou'd my Shirt, ay, or my Crevat, were as white!) the fal­ling Snow, for she had us'd a pe­culiar Ointment, and lay in Dog-skin-Gloves, with her Arms ex­tended over her Head all this while, unless when any Visitors came.—(I believe, I can pro­cure [Page 33] you a Receipt of the Oyntments to oblige you, Ladies; for I know Mr. Physmacary very well) But now she pull'd off one of her Gloves to receive the Billett doux; which yet she cou'd not Read, because of the suddain return of her Attendant: Wherefore she conceal'd it in her Bed, till a more convenient time. However she sent as proper an answer to it, as if she had perus'd it a hun­dred times over: Telling the Ladys, that she was advis'd to breath a little fresh Air; and, that on the Morrow her Lady Mother and she design'd for St. James's Park; where she shou'd be happy to meet such excellent Com­pany as their Ladyships about four in the Afternoon. The Lady Arabella soon took the hint; and promis'd she wou'd endeavour to divert her by the best means in her Capacity: (Which, she knew, was by bringing her Bro­ther,) And immediately upon this, she and Aurelia Kiss'd her fair Cheek; and so Commending her to Heaven's Care, quitted the Room; why Fair Cheek now you'l say (perhaps!) Why: [Page 34] let it be soft, Rosy, or Fair, I care not which, 'tis not a pin matter, but one of 'em it must be, in my Opi­nion.—No sooner was Mariana, her Attendant, gone to wait on the Ladys down Stairs, but Philandra Ravished the Letter from between the Sheets; and, after having thrice Kiss'd it, she saw on the outside these words, To the Charming Philandra: In the inside she found he expressed himself thus,

After she had again Kiss'd it thrice; she fasten'd it, by an Engine very much in use among Ladys, to the Veil of Love's Temple; In plain English, to her shift: Thinking she had now secur'd that from all possibi­lity of an escape from her: And, that she had it as fast, as she held the Heart of him that sent it. Soon after she had thus plac'd the Copy of my Lord's Heart on her left side, next her own; her Lady-Mother usher'd in Sir Blunder, who of all Men, ex­cept her Father, had the priviledge to visit her in her Bed-Chamber; and whom, except her Father, she hated above all Men. (For to say truth, Slouch was not so Old, by near forty years) At the sight of him [Page 36] she began to look as Pale as the Moon; when, just before, she was as Ruddy and Glorious as the Sun. Ma­dam Philandra (said he) I come to con­dole the tedious Fit of Sickness you have had: And (truly) had it not been for troubling you; I wou'd have visited you oftner and sooner. 'Tis now too soon, (returned she) unless you design to compleat by your pre­sence, what you had but begun by your Curiosity: I mean, my Death. I compleat your Death (interrupted he) I profess, I never thought of such a thing, days of my Breath. No matter (returned she, mocking him) I profess, there is never another Let­ter for you.—(How if she shou'd mistake now?) why, Madam Philan­dra (replyed he) I thought no more harm when I gave Sir Beetlehead your Letter; than an Apple's like an Oyster. At this Simile she cou'd hardly forbear laughing aloud: while he went on much to the same tune. In good truth, I delivered it to him because you were not at home; that he might send it to you again, or to [Page 37] my Lord Bellamant: For, upon my Truly now, Madam Philandra, I am as ready to serve you, as an Ar­row out of a Bow. And whom cou'd I better entrust with your Secrets than your own dear Father? One wou'd think you were in the right on't, in trusting my own Dear Father with a jeasting piece of Gallantry of mine that I wou'd not have had him see: But I must needs own, 'twas an ex­cellent contrivance, and much like your own Dear Worshipful self, to carry my Letter from me, that it might be sent to me. Say, was not this for Expeditions sake? In good Faith (answered the Booby) I thought to have given it you again, assoon as I had read it; but forgot it.—In good Faith I did.—(Now Pox upon him, for an unhappy silly Dog. For he makes my Heart ake. Since just so us'd the Reverend Old Gentle­man at Westminster to say to me:— In good Faith (Child) I must whip thee.) But with a scornful smile (she return'd) in good Faith Sir, I thank you, that after you had expos'd to all [Page 38] the Sense you had, what I wou'd have conceal'd to you and almost all Man­kind beside; you wou'd have vouch­saf'd to have return'd it me, had you not forgotten it. O, Admirable piece of Civility and Breeding! So Gene­rous an Act, sure was never commit­ted by any Villain that takes your Purse, sure! What! My Lady (said he) do's Madam Philandra call me Villain!—I am afraid, she is not in her right Maidenly Wits. Indeed I fear so too (replyed the Mother) she has been delirious all along since she kept her Bed: These kind of Distem­pers make 'em all so. Wherefore I wou'd advise and entreat you to leave me alone with her: Happily, I may help her to compose her strang­ling thoughts. Your Servant, my Lady: Goodnight, sweet Madam Philandra (said he) and made a Leg, going out. So;—Heav'n be prais'd! my worst Distempers gone: (cry'd the young Lady) not Poverty with all it's worst Attendants is half so bad, as to be yok'd to thee.

Can you, my Honour'd Mother, suffer it?

[Page 39] When e're you see me Bedded with this Slave.

Say, He's my Monument, the Bed my Grave.

Here our Sappho let loose whole floods of Briny-Salt tears, as Round and Clear as so many Pearls: But (Pardon me, Ladyes!) not altogether so Precious, in my poor judgement. At the sight of this inundation, which were enough to set any Young Man's Heart a Fire, (and that's strange you'l say) the Lady-Mother dropp'd an A­pril-shower; which was not of long Continuance: And, after they both had wept, they both smil'd: The Pi­ous indulgent Mother assuring the Angel-like Daughter, (I mean, for Beauty) that she wou'd never suffer it; nor cou'd ever live to see it. Philandra proceeded then to make an ingenuous Confession of the Passion she had for the Lord Bellamant; begging her pardon, that she had hitherto kept her a stranger to it. Who told her, in that only she was to blame, for (said she) I like his Person and Estate [Page 40] very well. But above all his Title: For, if you Marry Him; you'l be a better Woman than my Lady May'ress: And you shall take place of her any where on English Ground; unless in the City, I fear.—The Bellamants (continued she) are as Ancient and Great a Family as any in the four Kingdoms; when I was about your Age, I was Intimately acquainted with above a score of 'em: And, I remem­ber, they were all fine Gentlemen: Some, very Proper, Handsom, Lusty Men: Others, Midlesiz'd and Brisk Men: Some again little Pretty Sprite­ly Creatures: All of 'em, Brave Ge­nerous, Active, and High-mettll'd Men.—Ay; ay (added she) I am clearly for a Bellamant, and I warrant thee (my Dear) we'll carry the day: Therefore satisfie thy self, and take a hearty repose: This Kiss and a good Night to thee: A thousand good-nights to my Dear and Honour'd Mother, (said Philandra, as her Mother left her.) All this while that Treacherous Jade Mariana had overheard their Discourse; which she was to repeat [Page 41] to Slouch, having been retain'd by him with five Guinea's and several Nights Lodgings; which, at long run, cost him a heavier Summ. A little time after her Mother was gone, Philandra fell asleep Hand over Head; never Dreaming that her Attendant had such true Ears, and so false a Heart: But 'twas no wonder; for, Sir Blunder had had the managment of her for above a Month before he preferr'd her to Philandra; whom she had not serv'd longer than four Months.

About twelve a Clock the next day the Lady Gripely thought it convenient her Daughter shou'd rise: Allowing two hours for Dressing, an hour for Dining, and about as much for their journey for the Park: So, Philandra call'd for fresh Linnen, and up she got. Her thoughts were so wholly intent on the Adventure she was like to have that Afternoon, that she quite forgot the Letter which she had fasten'd to her Shift, and after Dinner took Coach without it. For, this Damn'd Maid Woman (Whore I was going [Page 42] to say) taking the Shift, to lay it a­side; prick'd her Finger with the Pin that held it there: Which when she had taken out, the Letter fell on the Ground before her. She immediately took it up, and gave it to Slouch, who came presently after he had Din'd to Sir Beetlehead's, as was his Custom: And withal made him a repetition of what she had overheard in Discourse between the Mother and Daughter; soon afterwards she was call'd to wait on her Lady to the Park. There were only those four who went in that Coach; the Lady Gripely, Philan­dra and Mariana, (I warrant you think that I can't count four as I shou'd do) but you may be pleas'd to take notice, that Mariana was with Child of a Slouch; and more than half gone. Well; to the Park they got, just as the Guards were reliev'd; and, in some few Minutes after, Sir Blunder arriv'd there, in his own Hackney Coach; (for he was too mise­rable to keep one: Tho' he was as Proud as any Beggerly upstart-Citizen in Christendom) when he was got [Page 43] through the Horse-Guards, (which (no doubt) he curs'd in his Heart, because they were King James's, and the Lord Dover's Troop too that were then upon Duty.) He took the Walk on the Left Hand by the Bird-Cage; which (as it happen'd) was the right way to meet the Ladys; who were gotten by this time about the middle of the Mall, just over against St. James's House, when they met the Lord Bellamant and the Lady his Sister, Attended only by her Women and two Footmen. After the first Saluta­tion, Bellamant addressed himself to the Mother. Telling he that that Part of the World did bretter suit with Ladys of so Great Beauty and Gallantry than the Dull, Precise, and unmannerly City, which they only made happy and valuable by their Residence in it, more than it's Wealth and Traffick in the World. To which the Lady Gripely reply'd, that it was therefore the most advantagious place for them to live in, since there, their want of Breeding and Humour was the less observable. I never thought, [Page 44] Madam (return'd the Lord Bellamant) that I cou'd have been so unhappy as not to subscribe to ev'ry particular O­pinion of your Ladyship's, till this unlucky Moment: But, Madam (con­tinued he, applying himself to Phi­landra) I am yet more unfortunately mistaken, if you don't think this Air more agreeable to the Sweetness of your Complexions, than the Smoaky Climat of that, still unsatisfy'd, and unhallow'd, tho' pretended, Sanctify'd Place. And I fear, Madam (added he) that your apprehensions of such a retreat from the Gay World, threw you into a Melancholly, which might have been no less fatal to me, and all the admiring World, than to your Ladyship; had not Heaven preserv'd the nearest Copy of it self in you, to be ador'd by all Mankind—My Lord (said Philandra) I did really Arm my self against all Modesty, e're I came abroad, expecting, indeed, to receive such Volleys of your Wit and Gal­lantry.—She had gone on still; had not Stopwell, approaching 'em with Mr. Worthygrace, and his Equipage, [Page 45] prevented her.—My most Honour'd Lady! (cry'd he out aloud) and my Divine Mistress Philandra! How hap­py am I to see your Ladyship so well recover'd in your Health and Beauty, as to adorn this Walk with what it so long has wanted in your absence?— Madam (interrupted Worthygrace) Mr. Stopwell wrongs the Court-Ladies; some of which are really Great Beau­ties, who frequently do bless this Park. But, pardon me, Madam I beseech you, if I think you have done 'em the greater injury; in appearing h [...]e so much to their disadvantage,— 'Sdeath!—what Spark's this? (crys Bellamant to himself; with a jealous frown and an angry blush) but straight recalling himself (said he to Worthy­grace aloud) Sir, the Lady is out o'dan­ger of being Flatter'd; and you may go on at the same rate, if you please. But (interrupted Philandra) you may assure your self (my Lord) it will not altogether please me: And I cou'd wish, the Gentleman would spare him­self the trouble of a second thought. At this they both bow'd very humbly, [Page 46] and were silent: And (then said the Lady Gripely taking up the Discourse) but, in the name of Wonder, (Mr. Stopwell) how came you to find us here? Madam (reply'd the Coupé. Marchant) heaving that my Divine Mistress was taken Sick upon her re­turn to Town, I thought it my indis­pensible Duty to pay my Respects to her, in enquiring of her Health, if I might not have been permitted the Honour and Happiness of seeing her; and this Afternoon I had the good Fortune to learn from Sir Beetlehead, then at home, that your Ladyships were gone towards the Park; where­upon, as I was going to call a Coach, this worthy Gentleman, my Honour'd Friend prevented me, by taking me into his own Coach; he designing for a Walk in this place. While they were thus discoursing Worthygrace happen'd to fix his Eye on the Lady Arabella; where (perhaps) he discover'd as much Beauty and Goodness as ever was confin'd to one Person And (no doubt) he had thought so had he not been prepossess'd with [Page 47] a Passion for Philandra; however, at the same time, he cou'd not but be somewhat touch'd with Arabella; and was not a little surpriz'd to see two Persons so exactly alike as the Lady Bellamant and Arabella. Mean while, on t'other side Bellamant taking Phi­landra's hand, and walking some few paces from the Company; ask'd her if she knew that Gentleman, she an­swer'd, that this was the second time she had ever seen him; giving him an account withal of what had pass'd be­tween 'em at their first sight, the day before she came to Town. Indeed (Madam, said my Lord) he makes a very Graceful Figure, and speaks well;—Pray Heav'n and you, Madam, it prove not to my disadvan­tage: No; no (my Lord, said Philan­dra) your Lordship does not conquer by halves.— I fear I have said too much (added she with a blush) but make the best and kindest use on't you can for both our Interests. Ah Madam (re­ply'd he, in a transport) you have almost taken away from me the power to thank you for this mighty Blessing, [Page 48] and to assure you, that I can have no Interest but what must Centre in yours.—But I don't like this same Dancing-Master; I fancy he helps to play the Game against me. No matter my Lord (said she) since I deal, you are safe.—But, come let us joyn Company; for the Lady your Si­ster is at a loss for us. Alas, my Memory! (cry'd Bellamant) I had for­got till now to tell you, (Madam) that she came with me hither particu­larly to Kiss your hands, e're she goes to a Relation of ours who is a Lady Abbess in France; with whom she de­signs to stay near a Twelvemonth; beginning her journey about three days hence: By this time they were come up with the rest of the Com­pany, when Philandra told Arabella, that she was sorry to hear she must all on a suddain lose the happiness of her Charming Conversation, which she had as well promis'd to her self, as wish'd to enjoy all the days of her life. Madam (reply'd Arabella) I have had so great a desire of see­ing some part of France these many [Page 49] Years; that I cou'd no longer defer giving my self that satisfaction: Espe­cially, since my Lady Abbess is now so pressing in her Invitation: And, un­less your Ladyship will lay your ab­solute Commands on me to the con­trary; I must leave England within these few days: Ah Madam! (re­turn'd Philandra) I can pretend to no such influence in your Ladyships Acti­ons: Besides, if I might, with Rea­son, you may assure your self, that, I wou'd rather wholly disquiet my self, than give the least least interruption to your Ladyships pleasure. That were too great a Condescension in you, Madam, to me; (reply'd Arabella;) since you may be confident, that you have an Arbitrary and Dispensing power in every thing relating to my Brother. During this Discourse between 'em, Worthygrace was examining the diffe­rence of their Beauties; and found much more of Modesty and Sweetness in Arabella's Face, than Air and Gay­ety, which did chiefly reside in Phi­landra's; who yet had a Languishing cast with her Eye at some times; [Page 50] when she design'd an Absolute Con­quest; which did not a little denote her cunning: And 'twas this had van­quish'd him more than the noise of her thirty thousand pounds Portion: For he was truly Generous, and lov'd for loves sake; and, that most passionately.—But now, remov­ing his Eyes from their belov'd object, and turning 'em on t'other side; he found the Lord Bellamant surveying him from Head to Foot: Which made Worthygrace as nicely examin him. At last, after a short encountre of their Eyes:—Well, Sir (said my Lord) what have you observ'd a­bout me to my Advantage? I fear, nothing at all, (continu'd he) but what makes wholly for yours. So much on the contrary; (reply'd he) that I assure your Lordship, I wou'd not have you for a Rival of all Man­kind: And I cou'd wish, with your Lordships Pardon, that you were not only like that Beautiful Lady (added he, bowing toward Arabella) in out­ward Figure alone, but ev'n in her very Sex. I must avow to you, my [Page 51] Lord, 'twou'd give me a great deal of ease. Methinks, Sir (said Bella­mant) you look on me already as one that is a Disturber of your joys. If I do, my Lord, (return'd Worthygrace) you are too secure in your own Me­rits to fear any attempt from me. As they were thus entertaining one another, Sir Blunder pass'd 'em on one side of the Mall, close to the Walk that leads to St. James's House, observing them most narrowly; but unobserv'd of them. It seems, he was near enough to take notice that Bellamant led Philandra, and whisper'd very frequently with her: That Step­well usher'd the Lady Gripely; and Worthygrace, as yet a stranger to him, was fain to take up with the Finest Creature there: I mean, Arabella. What Bellamant and Philandra whis­per'd seem'd to Slouch at that di­stance, to be some Assignation, or some Damn'd Love-Intrigue, or other, not at all in favour of him. An hundred times did he wish that he had been in my Lord's Heart; or [...] least, that he had had his Ears: [Page 52] he durst not venture to go near enough for either of 'em, for fear of a Re­primand from Bellamant, who by this time was acquainted with the whole story of his Villany: At last, all on a suddain, clapping her hand on her left side, Philandra miss'd the Letter she received from my Lord the day before. This made her stand as fix'd as the Statue at the end of the Canal: But in a more defenceless posture. For, she had already receiv'd a second blow from Fortune; and there was no guarding her self against what was past. By her looks on Bellamant, she appear'd strangely mortify'd at some­thing; which all the Company took notice of, upon that suddain motion of her's with her hand. Art not well, my Dear? (cry'd the Lady Gripely, running hastily to her) yes, Madam (answered she) pretty well now; I humbly thank your Ladiship. 'Twas only a stitch that took me on the suddain; and as quickly has left me. Ha! (thought Slouch, all this while watching ev'ry particular mo­tion of the whole Company; especi­ally [Page 53] Bellamant's, and Philandra's) I can tell your Distemper better than Mr. Physmacary himself: For I have the occasion of it here in my Pocket, which I will so improve, that you shall either marry me, or dye of the Pip, and so lead Apes in Hell. I'm now go­ing to your Father, and consequently every step I make is towards her Bad. Saying so, he left the Park, and them to follow him, which they did in less than an hour after, fearing the Air might be too sharp for Philandra's longer stay there the first time; every one expressing their real grief for the apprehension they had of the return of her Distemper. At the end of the Mall they were oblig'd to part; Phi­landra and her Mother for the City, the Lady Arabella with her Attendant and one Footman return'd to their Lodgings in Soho-Square; for my Lord would needs take a Bottle with Worthygrace at the Blue-Posts in the Hay-Market, where they did very plea­santly with Stepwell, drinking to Phi­landra's Health, and discoursing of their Travels; in which, Worthygrace [Page 54] had much the advantage, having stay­ed some time in most of the Princes Courts in Europe. Bellamant having only made the Tour of France, and some short stay at Rome, and Venice. After which, he spent somewhat more than a Twelvemonth in the Court of France, and the Campaign. Having drank and talk'd their heads pretty empty of further thought, and eaten their bellies full, they took a very ob­liging farewell of each other, both extreamly satisfied with one anothers merit, but not a little dissatisfied that they found they were Rivals; how­ever, they Convers'd, and parted like Persons of Honour, expecting from Philandra the fatal determina­tion of their happiness, or misery.

In the mean time, as they were ma­king homewards, Philandra, looking very earnestly on Mariana, ask'd her if she had not met with a Letter a­mong the Linnen which she had put off that day? To which she reply'd, That indeed she took up a Paper that lay on the ground, and because she could not read it, she gave it to Sir [Page 55] Blunder, who told her that 'twas only a new Song which her Ladyship had transcrib'd; and that therefore she took no farther notice of it, but left it with him. O thou Screcch-Owl, (cry'd Philandra, all in a flame) what do I hear? Oh! thou hast betray'd me to the greatest of misfortunes, exposing me to the base practices of that Eternal Booby Slouch. O most unfortunate ac­cident (cry'd the Mother) another Let­ter faln into his hands! Madam, (said Mariana, about to justifie her self.) Be dumb, be dumb for ever here on Earth, (interrupted Philandra) or if thou needs must yell, howl out inevitable Damna­tion to Despairing Souls! Oh! It were Charity to what th'hast done! what! Sa­crific'd a second time to that Slave's In­terest? 'Twere merciless I'm sure, in Hu­manity, to act thus, but Heaven I hope has kinder ends in it. Ah! Madam, (pursu'd she) how shall we meet my jea­lous Father, who is byass'd in every thing by that hated Fiend. No doubt (re­turn'd the Mother) the Greeting will be very extraordinary: Fools that we were (pursued she) not to perceive 'till [Page 56] now, that this sly Minks is a meer tool of his! his Creature; foisted upon us, to serve his hated ends. All this while the plaguy Gypsy sate sobbing and blub­bering, and staining with her Crocodile tears her Handkerchief, which before was as white as innocence: At last, with much difficulty she sputter'd out, Madam, if your Ladyship thinks that I have designedly injur'd you in this, I humbly beg your Ladyship to dismiss me your Service, for I had rather be robb'd of that Happiness and Honour, than live under your Ladyship's Displeasure, and Suspicion. Ah! wou'd to Heaven (cry'd Philandra) you had propos'd this some weeks ago, it might perhaps for e­ver have establish'd my Peace and Quiet, which now I fear is utterly ruin'd. However (continu'd she) your Request, tho' much with the latest, is very grate­ful to me, and you may be confident you shall not be long without your wish, if my honour'd Mother has no further Com­mands for you Little did she think that this dismission would be as wellcome to Mariana, as it was obliging to her: But I can assure you, it had been of [Page 57] equal advantage to all three, had it not been for a slippery Trick that Fortune play'd this unluckie Damsel.—No, no, (return'd the Lady Gripely) my last Command to her is, that she continue in the Resolution of leaving us, and that by to morrow this time. At these words they found themselves just at their own door, which the Mother and Daughter enter'd, but with aking hearts, fore-boding but a sorrowful reception, which was reserv'd (it seems by the two ill-natur'd Block­heads agreement) to a more conve­nient time. For Slouch immediately upon his leaving the Park, came and found Gripeley at home, and took him to the Coffee-House, where he recount­ed to him all the Discourse between the Mother and Daughter, as he had learn'd it from Mariana; shewing Bellamant's Letter to Philandra; and withall, gave him an account of the Honourable Company he had seen with them in the Mall. He chose ra­ther to take him to a Coffee-House, there to distract him with this Rela­tion, than his own House, fearing the [Page 58] Ladies might return, and surprize him as he was doing 'em that signal piece of Knight's Service. The La­dies had just time to quit themselves of that part of their Dress which was unnecessary in the House, when Old Gripely and Slouch came to 'em; the last of which (as it was contriv'd be­tween 'em, over a Cup of the Devil's Communion-Wine) after having paid his Respects to the Ladies, came up closer to Philandra, and taking the Letter out of his Pocket, convey'd it into her hand, as it were unperceiv'd of the Old Gentleman; who began to wellcome home his Lady Wife with all the Sugar-plum-words he us'd to feed her with at his first Courtship. This was surprizing, and kind; and, I am apt to believe, it was one of their last Honey-Nights: but for a fort­night after Philandra was under a se­verer restraint than ever; During all which time, she could not receive one Billet-Doux from either my Lord, or Worthygrace, tho' they both had en­deavour'd to supply her a hundred times, and a hundred ways, with those [Page 59] Paper-Refections; especially the Lord Bellamant: Who meeting Stepwell one Day about Noon, desir'd him to [...]ake one Bottle with him at the Rose in Covent-Garden: So to Long's they came, where, after a Glass or two, Bellamant enquir'd of Worthygrace's health, and drank to the continuance of it. Then he proceeded to ask Stepwell when he had been at Mr. Beetlehead, and how Matters went with Philandra, since they last saw her in the Park? Of which Stepwell could give him no further account, than that he understood she was now more strictly confin'd than ever. My Lord then taking him by the hand, presented him with Fifty Guineas, and told him withall, that he must thence forward beg his Friendship; at the same time assuring him of his, and that he wou'd use his interest at Court, or any where else, to serve him at any time. To which he very obediently reply'd, That his Life, and all his Circumstan­ces, both Present, and Future, were, and shou'd be always at his Lordship's Devotion, except his Reputation, which [Page 60] he was confident my Lord wou'd never engage him to hazzard. Mr. Stepwell (said the Lord Bellamant) had I thought that you had not had a true value for that, I shou'd not have ask'd your Friendship; and to shew you that the fa­vour I wou'd entreat of you is Just, and Honourable; I only desire you to endea­vour to deliver this Letter to the hands of the Charming Philandra. My Lord (return'd he) that I will endeavour it, I do engage my Reputation to your Lord­ship, and that within these two hours, for I am just going to Sir Beetleheads, to propose a Business that will be of no little advantage to him; but, that I shall succeed to your Lordships, and my own Wishes, I dare not promise. Your Endeavours are all I ask, Sir, (reply'd Bellamant) only this further I could wish, That you would let me know by to mor­row this time what success you have had. Your Lordship shall find me most punctually and sacredly Obedient in what you have Commanded me, (said Stepwell.) I can­not doubt it, Sir, (return'd my Lord) tho' I am sensible that Honourable Friend of yours, has justly a greater interest in [Page 61] you than my self: However, at the same time, I am assur'd you will oblige me in this, if he has not already engaged you to the contrary. Be confident, my Lord, he has not (reply'd t'other) only I beseech your Lordship to let me know, if I may entrust this Paper to any Person, who I am certain may and will present it to my Divine Mistress her self? By all means, use your own discretion in that (answer'd my Lord) for I wholly rely on your mannagement in this mat­ter. Thus, after having again con­secrated their Glasses with the Fair and Divine Lady's Health, and Step­well being well satisfied with the Fifty Guineas, as Bellamant was of his Inte­grity in this Affair; they parted; my Lord to the Court, and Stepwell to the Den of a Thief— I don't mean to Ch— tho', for all that; for he had had no business that way of a long season; but to Gripeley's he went, whither he got just at Dinner-time. There he desir'd the Coachman-But­ler-Porter to present his most obe­dient service to Sir Beetlehead; and withall, to let his Worship know, [Page 62] [...]hat he had some Business of great mo­ment to discourse him about, where­fore he humbly beg'd the honour of some few minutes Conversation with him at his earliest leisure. Reins de­liver'd his Complement in the hear­ing of Philandra, who from thence be­gan to conceive some hopes of an A­morous Intrigue with Worthygrace at least, or with some body or other by his means. The Old Jealous Knight had like to have forgot himself at first, and said, desire him to walk in; 'till looking on his Daughter, he cry'd out aloud in haste, Sirrah, desire him to walk into the outward Par­lour, I will but dispatch a bit or two, and then I'll come to him. Stepwell had not expected above a quarter of an hour, but Gripely came, and desir'd him to speak to the Business. Stepwell then told him, that an honour'd Friend of his, who had near Six Thousand Pounds a year, was in a present ne­cessity of Four Thousand Pounds; which, if he pleas'd to furnish him with, the Gentleman his Friend wou'd Mortgage an Estate to Gripely, which [Page 63] he had in Gloucester-shire, of Five Hundred Pounds a year, for his Security. Well, Mr. Stepwell (cry'd the Old hun­gry Wolf) what is his Name? His Name I beseech you, and where lies the rest of his Estate? To which, (t'other reply'd) his Name, Sir, is Worthygrace, of the Ancient Family of the Worthygraces, Originally of York-shire; tho' the Family has spread it self into most of the Counties of Eng­land, Scotland, and Wales; some of the other parts of his Estate lay in such, and such, and such Shires and Counties; giving him a more parti­cular account than at present I am a­ble to make you. Besides, Sir, (ad­ded he) I beseech your Worship to take notice, that he is no Swearer, Whore Master, Drunkard, nor Game­ster. Pish, pish, (said the other) 'tis not a pin matter to you, or me, whether he be or no; yet (perhaps) I cou'd wish he were all these: But since you say he is so fine a Gentleman, I pray you good Mr. Stepwell how comes he to have such an urgent oc­casion for this Sum, or be obliged to [Page 64] a Mortgage? Why, Sir, (reply'd Step­well) he is unwilling to expose his ne­cessity to any of his Acquaintance, because (possibly) he designs to mar­ry one of their Daughters, wherefore he entreated me to assist him in this matter, since I have no knowledge of any of his Relations, or Country Ac­quaintance, more than your Worship has. Ay, but Mr. Stepwell (interrupted Gripely) you must give me leave Mr. Stepwell, you must give me leave to be better acquainted with him, and his Concerns, before I part with such a Sum of mony to him; for it is my custom so to do, it is indeed, Mr. Stepwell— Tho' I suppose (pro­ceeded he) this mony is to carry on his Design on the Lady. It is so, Sir, (answer'd the other) and he desires by all means, that you wou'd give your self the satisfaction of enquiring into the Circumstances of his Estate, but at a distance, and with all possible caution, lest his Reputation shou'd any way suffer. You may have a suf­ficient Character of him, and certain Information of the posture of his Af­fairs [Page 65] in York-shire, Gloucester-shire, and Hertford shire, from any of the Wor­thy Gentlemen of those Counties. No, Mr. Stepwell (said he) I shall not need I believe to give my self any great trouble in this matter, if this be the Rich Worthygrace of York-shire. The very same, Sir, (said Stepwell.) That's enough (Reply'd Gripeley) but tell me, Mr. Stepwell, is he already en­gag'd to this Lady? Is she a Beauty? Is she a Wit? Or, what is chiefly to be consider'd, is she a Fortune? Sir, she's worth some 15 or 16000 l. (Reply'd he.) That's but a small Portion for so great an Estate as this (return'd Gripely) and, if he be not already too far Engag'd, I believe I can recom­mend him to a young handsome Lass, worth at least Thirty Thousand Pounds. On my word, Sir, (said Stepwell) that wou'd be an extraordinary favour in­deed, and I fancy he has not made his approach so close to her, but he can make an honourable retreat when he pleases. When may I see him then? (ask'd the Old Knight.) To morrow morning, if you please (reply'd t'other) [Page 66] in the mean time, I will prepare him to receive your kindness with the greater readiness, for (possibly) he will do something this Night, in or­der to his disengagement from the Lady he is now in pursuit of. Do so ( said Old Gripely) and let me see you both here to morrow at Eleven pre­cisely. I shall, Sir, ( Return'd Step­well) and took his leave.

When he left Old Dry-bones, he went immediately to Worthygrace, whom he found at his Lodgings in Bloomsbury-Square, where he repeated every particular of his Discourse with Gripely, to his honour'd Friend. Tel­ling him withall, that it cou'd be no body else but Philandra, whom her Fa­ther intended to propose for a Wife to Worthygrace; who was enclineable enough to believe it; and Rewarded the Care and Cunning he had shewn in the management of his Interest, with a Diamond Ring from off his finger, worth 40 l. which t'other receiv'd with as good a grace as any Coupé-Merchant in Town cou'd do. Sir, (said he) your Present is of much [Page 67] greater value than the Gold or Stone cou'd make it, forc'd from embracing your finger to adorn mine; which shall be no longer part of my hand, than it is able to serve you. Then Stepwell presented him with the Lord Bellamant's Letter to Philandra; ac­quainting him with the promise he had made my Lord, to deliver it to her own hands, or to some other Person who should assuredly do it; nor did he conceal the 50 Guineas he received from Bellamant. Worthygrace was a little surpriz'd at that Letter, and at Stepwell's Relation of their Rencoun­ter; and, tho' he had almost a Wo­mans Curiosity to see what it contain'd, yet he had too much honour to gra­tify that foolish itch of his humour; and taking the Letter from Stepwell, You shall be as good as your word to my Lord, (said he) for I will pre­sent it to her my self, tho' never so much to my disadvantage. I mean, if I have the happiness to see her to mor­row. You will not, I hope (cry'd Maître de Dance) be so far far acces­sary to your own ruine there, as to [Page 68] attempt it. Pardon me, my Friend, (reply'd Worthygrace) but I will. I beseech you then (said Stepwell) read it first, Sir. Not for the purchase of my happiness in her (return'd this Ho­nourable Lover) I cou'd then never hope it, because I'm sure I shou'd not deserve it. No, (continu'd he) invio­late as it is, and teeming with all the most Beautiful and Charming Ideas, and Expressions of his passion that it may be; she shall receive it from my hand the very first opportunity I have to offer it to her. Saying so, he wrap'd it up in a clean sheet of Paper, and put it into his Scritore. At which ( cry'd Stepwell) Forgive me, Sir, I beseech you, if I think this the od­dest method of making Love for a Mans own self, that I ever yet have heard of. Call it Knight-Errantry if thou wilt ( return'd Worthygrace) but I have my satisfaction in it.—E­nough of this— To morrow by Ten in the morning, I expect you here. I shall then pay my duty to you, Sir, (said Stepwell) and left him to give or­ders for the morrows Expedition; [Page 69] which he took care should be as splendid as that little time would per­mit.

At Ten the next morning Stepwell waited on him at his Lodgings, and soon after they made for Sir Beetle­head's; who, the preceeding Night told his Daughter, that now he hop'd he had provided her a Husband whom she could no way except against: For (said he) I have enquir'd of him of several Worthy Gentlemen, and Emi­nent Citizens, who all give me a most extraordinary Character of his Person, and Humour; and which is above all, of his Estate, being worth near Six Thousand pounds per Annum. And now (my dear Girl) I prithee do not stand in thine own light: No force, (Good Sir said she) and I will stretch my Inclinations as far as may be, to embrace one of your choice, that I may reccommend my duty to you. Then he order'd her to appear as Gay and Glorious as she cou'd, to receive him the next morning. Near a quar­ter before Eleven, Worthygrace got to Old Gripely's, who entertain'd him very [Page 70] Courteously, and Generously; calling for a whole Bottle of Canary, which he himself lov'd best, to drink to him. After which, the Devil's Casheer, old Gripely (who only got and dispos'd of his mony in the Devil's name, and for his use) fell upon the Business, and propos'd his Daughter to Worthy­grace, with Thirty Thousand Pounds, Who told him, that the Overture was, so much above his Merits and Ex­pectation, that he fear'd he did but motion such great advantages on pur­pose to evade doing him that smaller obligation which he had entreated of him by Mr. Stepwell. Nor can I have reason, Sir, (said he) to think other­wise, since I am yet absolutely a stran­ger to you. I confess, Sir, (return'd Gripely) you was a Stranger to me 'till now; but your Circumstances, I am, and have been before so well satisfied with, that I shall think both my self, and Daughter most happy, if you will accept her for your Wife. But it is not fair to oblige you to a promise of that, before you have seen her; wherefore you shall each of you have [Page 71] the satisfaction at the same time. We'll wait on you presently (added he) and went to fetch her. Now, Sir, (said Stepwell) will you take my word ano­ther time? Did not I say 'twas his Daughter, my Divine Mistress Phi­landra, whom he wou'd propose to you? Ay, Philandra's the Charm; (cry'd Worthygrace) his Daughter, and Thirty Thousands Pounds were other­wise but dull musick, but indifferent sounds to me: Philandra! That Phi­landra whom I first saw at the Board­ing-School, whom I love!—No matter whose Daughter, or what For­tune she is, so she may be my Wife. 'Tis the very same, Sir, I dare assure you (said Coupé) Then for my Lord's Letter (said Worthygrace) O! I have it with me, I find. After some little further Discourse, Gripely led in the self same Philandra to 'em, accompa­ny'd with her Mother. Here, Sir, (said Gripely) Look you, this is my Daughter, as my Lady-Wife tells me, (and that was well put in) tell me how you like her, (pray?) Hah! you stand as if you were frighted at the [Page 72] sight of her. I am amaz'd, Sir, (cry'd Worthygrace) at so much Beauty; and I beg the Lady will pardon the asto­nishment, of which she is the Cause. I protest that was spoken like your self, Mr. Worthygrace (said the Old Fool) like a fine Gentleman, and a Courtier: Nay, nay, I love to hear these Complements in an honest way—Perhaps 'tis not the Court fashion to kiss, or (it may be) you are asham'd to do it before my face, therefore I'll be gone, and leave my Lady-Wife, and Daughter with you. No (Sir, reply'd Worthygrace) I dare do it in the face of Majesty, of Hea­ven it self, since my thoughts are Just and Honourable. And I am sorry, Sir, I gave you the occasion of in­structing my duty. Saving so, he Saluted both the Lady-Mother, and Daughter. 'Uds precious (cry'd the Old Daddy) this puts me in mind of my wooing my Lady-Wife there; which I cannot remember without tears of joy: (And then (I think) he squeez'd as much moisture out of his eyes, as might have made the tittle o're an j, [Page 73] had it been Ink. But (continued he) I'll leave you together, and shall expect to find you and Mr. Stepwell at dinner with me here to day. I have a little business—a little business, your Ser­vant, Sir—Daughter (pursu'd he) this is the man for my money. With that (clapping Worthygrace on the shoulder, and going out) he eas'd 'em of a great deal of impertinence. I hope, Sir (said the Lady-Mother) you'll pardon the infirmities of Old Age. And the defects of an Old Citizen's E­ducation (added Philandra). It looks hearty and kind, Madam (return'd Worthygrace) and I cou'd wish, Ma­dam, you wou'd receive me with as true a wellcome. Assure your self, Sir, (reply'd Philandra) a Person of your merits can't want a due reception. We plead no merits from Heaven (return'd he) but (Madam) if self-denyal, and other the greatest mortifications be any way grateful, I am in hopes that this Present from me may give you a testimony of some of my weak Endea­vours that way. And then he gave her the Lord Bellamant's Letter. At last, [Page 74] (added he) I perswade my self I shall not fail of a welcome for his sake that sent it. She immediately knew the hand, and blush'd to receive it from Worthygrace. But recollecting her self, (said she) this I guess is some new piece of Gallantry from the Lord Bel­lamant; which, howsoever, shall not rob me of the honour and satisfaction of your Conversation, Gentlemen. Nay, Madam (said Stepwell, who all this while had been entertaining the Lady Gripely) we are but two to two, and, for my part, I decline any sort of dispute with your Ladyship. I be­seech you, Madam (said Worthygrace) rob not your self of the pleasure that Paper may afford you, for my sake. For assure your self, I had rather suffer all the anguish of despair and jealousie, than you shou'd want the least satis­faction. Pardon me, Sir (return'd she) this will serve to entertain me, when I want the advantge of better Com­pany. Then, Madam (reply'd he) you must arm your self to receive a dis­course of much the same nature, I fan­cy, with what that happy paper con­tains; [Page 75] which will (undoubtedly) be more troublesome to you, coming from me—I Love you, Madam (pur­su'd he) with such a passionate since­rity, that I fear I cou'd almost part with you to my Rival; if it might ad­vance your happiness—say, Madam, have you decree'd that I shall eternally be miserable in your indifference; and have you determin'd that I must quit my pretensions to my happy Rival? Blast, Madam, blast all my hopes with one cruel and irrevocable word, and let me dye by your Thunder. If, Sir, on me depends your happiness, or mi­sery, be confident I wish you the First: And in a greater measure, than I can possibly create it to you. This indeed, Madam (said Worthygrace) is an obli­ging manner of Condemning me to the last, since you exclude me Paradise, and leave me all the lower World to range in—But be assur'd, Madam, That if all the Beauties of the Universe were divinely put together into One, by their Great Creator; That stupen­dious One cou'd not bless me, were it not, as it is, your own Beauteous self; who [Page 76] will not receive me into those joys you have entirely reserv'd to the Lord Bellamant. Certainly, Sir, (said she) this Tempest cannot be of long con­tinuance. This is such a volley of Love as I never before received. Ah! Ma­dam, (cry'd he) you rally and play with my earnest passion—Forgive me, if I say this is a little inhumane— But 'tis the effect of your Divinity that sports it self with my misfortunes. Doubtless (return'd Philandra) such another storm o' t'other side from my Lord, wou'd give me such another surfeit, that I shou'd swoon at the very name of Love ever after. Thus she e­vaded giving him any direct answer, either to make him hope, or despair; for she thought 'twas convenient to keep him in play, lest she shou'd miss of Bellamant. Their Conference lasted for near two hours, at the end of which, Old Gripely return'd.—Well, my new, but worthy acquaintance (said he to Worthygrace) what pro­gress have you made in your Amours with my Daughter? Why, Sir, an­swer'd Philandra, (by way of question) [Page 77] D'you think the Gentleman is us'd to boast of a Lady's favours? Ah! Ma­dam (cry'd Worthygrace) you have ta­ken care that I shall have no such oc­casion from you—But I can suf­fer. 'Uds precious, Noble Mr. Wor­thygrace, (cry'd Old Gripely,) suffer me no suffers, I'll ha' no suffering here, unless it be, that I suffer you to make much of my Daughter, and that she do the same by you—Come (con­tinued he) Dinner wait's us in t'other room, and there we'll make much of our selves. 'Twas about two of the clock when they sate down, and the last Course was serv'd in about Four, (for they had a Miser's Feast) they all eat heartily, and were as pleasant as their several Circumstances would per­mit 'em.

In the mean time the Lord Bellamant having expected Stepwell 'till Three, who (you know) was otherwise en­gag'd, grew impatient, and on a sud­dain thought of a design not much un­like Worthygraces; commanded his Coach man to drive him to Gripely's; where, just as he got out of his Coach, [Page 78] he found Sir Blunder enquiring for the aforesaid Worshipful Cent. per Cent. The Boobily Knight was strangely sur­priz'd to see my Lord at that place, and cou'd hardly Salute him, but with a malicious leer, and awkward bow. But my Lord knew how to make his advantage of such an opportunity; and said to him (returning the Compliment of Hat and Cringe,) that he was hap­py to see him there, as well as to hear that Sir Beetlehead was at home: to whom, he desir'd Sir Blunder to lead him the way. The Lubberly Booby had yet so much of pretended Good-manners, as to tell him he knew his duty better than so, and that it would be an honour to follow his Lordship. No (reply'd my Lord) Sans Façon good Sir Blunder, you are better acquainted here than I am, therefore pray take upon you for once the trouble of my Guide, and Leader. So in they went directly to the latter end of a Feast, which (perhaps) was the beginning of a Fray. But had not my Lord arriv'd just at that moment, when the Servant told Sir Blunder that Gripely was with­in, [Page 79] he had certainly return'd un­edify'd as he came, as to the know­ledge of his Mistresses Concerns— 'Uds precious (cry'd Sir Beetlehead) Sir Blunder, we have wanted you all this while to compleat our mirth, but you are now very wellcome—Ha, what fine Gentleman have you brought to my poor habitation? (pursu'd he, seeing my Lord) An humble Servant of yours, and of those fair Ladies (re­ply'd Bellamant) Mr. Worthygrace (ad­ded he) we are happy to meet here. Ay, my Lord (return'd Worthygrace) we are so, in the sight of these fair Ladies. 'Uds precious, my Lord, (cry'd Old Gripely) your Lordship is wellcome, if you don't bring a Pope in your Belly. No, Sir Beetlehead (reply'd Bellamant) but I brought an Angel in my heart, I mean your Daughter, Sir, who fills it with all the Ideas of Beauty that Humanity is capable of conceiving, and much more than it can express. 'Uds precious, cry'd the Old man, (a little mellow) you are a fine Gentleman, my Lord, a fine Gentleman indeed; therefore [Page 80] pray sit down, or you'll tire me with standing. I do so, Sir (said my Lord sitting) To make you easie, and to make my self happy, I'll place me just opposite, and most remote to what I most love in this World, and to what you hate I shou'd make any nearer ap­proaches to. Come, Sir Blunder (con­tinu'd he) tho' you have been blest in the enjoyment of the pretty Marian­na; yet you are almost in the Cir­cumstances with me, as to the Beaute­ous Philandra. This, he said, putting Slouch into the next chair to him. My Lord (said Philandra, who thought it no more sin to grieve the Spirit of the zealous Sir Blunder, than he did to lye with the Maid Marianna,) I fear your Lordship forgets that his Worship has been already so happy in his first Love, that he need not doubt his suc­cess against another, especially, when Aided, Abetted, Comforted and As­sisted by a Father's Good, Pious, and kind Instructions and Intentions; which yet he could not have want­ed, but for your Lordship's and this Honourable Gentleman's Address, [Page 81] and more plentiful Estates. But he may thank his Stars that there is one obstacle remov'd, for it seems your Lordship is a Roman Catholick. And for my part, Sir Blunder (interrupted Worthygrace) I am so far from having receiv'd any particular favour from this our ador'd Lady, that I must ut­terly despair, unless her unparallel'd and matchless Duty prevail against her inclinations, and his Lordship's Me­rits. Sir, (reply'd Bellamant) you have always the good Fortune and In­tention (it seems) to make me Debtor to your kind Opinion of me — wou'd to Heavens your Wishes were as much to my advantage. But, Sir Blunder (pursu'd he, changing the Discourse) How does the poor Titt? Has she yet taken her Degree in Bethlehem, or Bridewell? It must be in the first; for certainly none but a mad thing wou'd ha' laid a miscarriage upon an Alder­man's Fellow: It looks as if you had not been wicked, or able enough to get a Bastard; when (no doubt) your Prentice might ha' done you that piece of service, had you been Marry'd. But [Page 82] since your Worship is a Batchelor, I suppose she has been Flawg'd (as they call it) for putting the Saddle on the wrong Horse's back—Ay, my Lord (return'd Slouch) the Wench did afterwards confess it was my Ap­prentice; for which (as your Lord­ship says) she was Flawg'd in good faith. At which, they all laugh'd a­loud: And (said the Lady Gpipely) this is as happy and full a discovery as any Criminal cou'd make of himself. You're in the right, my Lady-Wife, (reply'd Old Gripely) 'twas a silly Wench, a silly Wench—But no more of that, if you please. No, (said Bellamant) I must remind my self of my Friend's business, about which I now come to sollicit you. There is a Friend of mine (continu'd he) that wants five thousand Guineas, now I can't spare him above two thousand; wherefore, if you will oblige him, Sir, with that Sum, I will Engage, or Mortgage some port of my Estate for his payment of it Why, look you my Lord (cry'd Gripely) this Engaging must be Mortgaging, and I don't like [Page 83] any of your Church-Lands. Hark you Sir Beetlehead (cry'd Bellamant) I fan­cy that among all your Mortgages, you have one or more of our Church-Lands; that is, of Papists Church-Lands, as you stile 'em; and yet I find there is no great danger of their infecting you with Popery. But I mean some of those Lands that my Lawful Father and Mother left to me (for perhaps she was an Heiress) those will I dip unto thee. This requires farther thought, my Lord (said he) and you shall have your answer to morrow this time. Nay, (reply'd Bellamant) if my my business, or my Friend's be not done by Six in the Morning, we shall have no further occasion of yours, or any other assist­ance. Six a Clock is early (return'd the Old one) but I'll see what may be done, my Lord, after I have discours'd this Honourable Gentleman: So, my Lord, I beg your Pardon (continu'd he) taking Worthygrace out o'th' Room with him, to contrive the hastening his Match with Philandra. 'Twas then Bellamant began to shew the violence [Page 84] of his Love in his Jealousie. Ah, Ma­dam, said he, approaching her, while the Coupé-Merchant, and the Booby Knight diverted the Lady-Mother; 'tis now high time for me to despair, since here I found my happy Rival; seated next to you, and feasting on your Eyes; happy he is in every Cir­cumstance, in his Person, in his Sence, in his Estate, and, no doubt, happy in your Love. By your Father's ap­probation encourag'd, receiv'd by you with a just opinion of his extraordi­nary Qualifications; how long, Heaven knows, I'm sure I know not— This he spoke somewhat low however, that they might not hear him; which they perceiving, were so civil as to enter­tain each other with their own imper­tinence. Nay, my Lord, said Philan­dra rising, I find you are hot, we must walk. I thank you, Madam, re­turn'd he, that you seem at least to take as much care of me, as my Grooms do of my Beasts; tho' they never ran such hot Courses, as I do in pursuit of you. You flye me, Madam, now, continued he, you have shunn'd me [Page 85] these fourteen or fifteen unaccountable days; for so they have been to me; since in all that time I have not once been blest with the sight of you, 'till this hour. O Heavens! Madam, pur­su'd he raving, where are all your vows? where are all your tender ex­pressions of Love to me? Some indeed I wear about me, under your Hand and Seal; and all of 'em where you have fix'd 'em in my heart. Whence not you your self can remove'em, unless you bid me despair, and dye—This is all wondrous fine, indeed my Lord, reply'd she, and since I find you love me, even to Jealousie, I'm resolv'd to give your Lordship farther occasions of that passion—And look you, my Lord, she continu'd, I suppose I wear about me some of your Lordships tender expressions of Love in this Paper; which I receiv'd from your happy Rival, as you think him: This he deliver'd to me, un-open'd I dare believe—Unopen'd as it is! in­terrupted he; now, by all my hopes on Earth, which terminate in you, Madam; my Love is not more sacredly [Page 86] inviolate, than is this Paper; I know the Seal, and find 'tis not abus'd— Oh! this is more dreadful to me, than his pretensions to you, Madam. And did he give it thus, without a scoff? Just as you see it, my Lord, and with respect (answer'd Philandra) Ah, wou'd h'had soften'd the hard faithful wax, and ravish'd wide the innocent Contents! I then might justly have re­turn'd the wrong, and from his breast have torn a Villain's heart, teeming with Sacriledge against you—But now, now it appears so Gloriously adorn'd, with your Bright Form in ev'ry corner of it, that I must fear to touch it. Oh, that Love shou'd rob me of so generous a Friend—I mean, whom I cou'd wish mine— Make him so, return'd she, I shall not hinder such a happy union. Nothing but you on Earth cou'd do it, Madam, reply'd Bellamant. Assure your self I will not, said she—Here, my Lord, take your Letter, I beseech you, and own the obligation he design'd you— 'twill be a good beginning of your Friendship—Now did this fair [Page 87] Devil desire nothing less.— No, Madam (replied he) I will not rob you of what He presented to you: Besides, if ever you had any regard of my Passion; I cou'd wish, you wou'd keep it: For, I fear, it is the last you will ever be troubled with from me. Troubled I wou'd have you, Madam, when you read it; to think how faithful and how Passionate a Lover you have thrown away. It seems my Lord ( Return'd Philandra) you are at length grown weary of feigning a Passion; and wou'd now perswade me, that I am displeas'd with your pretended services: But, assure your self, my Lord, Be it real or counterfeit; it has already given me a very pretty entertainment. You will e're long I doubt not, Madam, be judge of its truth or falshood.— In the mean time, Madam; enjoy your self, with the Thoughts of your new Lover! perhaps they will prove your only satisfaction. Philandra did not know what to make of this last part of his discourse; and was about to beg his Lordship to explain him­self, [Page 88] just as her Father re-entred with Worthygrace. The chatt then was continu'd among 'em, for upwards of an hour; the Rivals plying their Mi­stress very warmly; who return'd their Volleys with equal heat: In which she took accasion to tell Worthy­grace; that she must have better proofs of his Love and Service, than a bare Tongue-Devotion: And, in order to that, he shou'd wave the advantage he had in her Father's opinion; and pay her no more Visits, than he wou'd to an old, doating Relation of his, who liv'd most remote to him in Town; if any such he had. To which Wor­thygrace reply'd, that he wou'd obey her, tho' to the hazard of his Life, and certain loss of all his quiet. Madam (said my Lord) if this worthy Gentle­man's Fate be so Rigorous; what se­verity has your Ladyship reserv'd for me! How often, I mean, how seldom may I be permitted to pay my Devo­tion to you in an Age? The seldomer the better (Return'd she): once more will satisfie for your whole Life. So, (said Bellamant) this comes of inquir­ing [Page 89] into a Man's own destiny. Some farther prattle they had; at the end of which they took their leaves of the fair Ladys and the two Knights. As they were going out, my Lord told Worthygrace, that he had a Curiosity to shew him at his Lodgings; and therefore desir'd, that he wou'd give him the favour of his Company thi­ther. Your Lordship (said Worthygrace) shall Command me in any thing. But one; (Interrupted my Lord,) shewing Worthygrace into the Coach. Mr. Stepwell your Servant ( said Worthy­grace) you had best make use of my Coach to your own House. A­dieu, Mr. Stepwell (said Bellamant.) He humbly made his Obeisance to 'em both, and Roll'd home in State: But not without some suspicion of what might happen betwen 'em.

There were now no more in the Coach, than my Lord and Worthy­grace; when my Lord, with a sigh, be­gan thus to him.—How strangely does Fortune now at last begin to treat me! I mean, how severely! since, 'tis the first most sensible Af­fliction [Page 91] that ever touch'd me, to have you for my Rival. You, Worthygrace (continu'd he) whom, above all Men my Soul wou'd chuse for its dearest Companion in all things; but in a Mistress. I know the greatness of your mind; have seen a little of the sweetness of your Temper; have re­ceiv'd an obligation from you this day, in delivering my Letter to Phi­landra, seal'd as I sent it, by that Trifle Stepwell, from whom you had it. And, after all this, is it not hard, that I must own to you, I cannot be happy if you live? At least in your pretensions to Philandra! This, my Lord (reply'd Worthygrace) is certain­ly the greatest of my Misfortunes, since, (give me leave to own this sacred truth to you!) your Lordship is the only Person among all Mankind, with whom I cou'd have contracted a most Religious Friendship: As, on the other side, That Charming Crea­ture, created to our Misery, is she alone in whom I must be happy, as in a Wife. O! Pardon me! (return'd Bellamant) you must not; while I live: [Page 92] You must therefore force your happi­ness through me; as I will attempt mine from you. Tho' Heaven knows with what regret! To morrow, Sir, (continu'd he) I shall expect you on the backside of Southampton House. The Field is near your Lodging, and not far from mine. Bring with you, two of your best Friends, as I will of mine; whom I beseech you engage to be no farther Active, than to endea­vour the escape of the survivor. For, (haply) we may not both fall. Nor either of us, I cou'd wish ( return'd Worthygrace) but (ah, my Lord!) these are but wishes. No more (said Bellamant) but thus I have contriv'd it, if you please:—our Chairs shall wait us at convenient distance; and our Friends shall prevent the unsea­sonable kindness of our Servants. And now, in the mean time we'll pray for one another. And, if it be my Fate to fall by you; Heaven for­give you, in its sweetest Mercy! And, if from you (my Lord) I meet my Death; Heav'n grant you happy life, here and hereafter; so Worthygrace re­turn'd; [Page 92] and ask'd, What hour, my Lord? 'Tis light enough at four (re­ply'd Bellamant) be that the hour: If 'tis befitting your convenience, Sir. I shall most punctually observe your Lord­ships Commands, said Worthygrace, Till then, let us embrace, and Think, and Act as Friends, (said my Lord, embracing him) To which t'other return'd, and sigh'd, ah! wou'd to Heav'n, my Lord, I might for ever thus clasp you, as my Soul's Heart!

Having thus assign'd the time and place, they came at last to Bellamant's Lodgings; where, after they had ta­ken a friendly Bottle, Worthygrace left him, to find and prepare his Friends against the next Morning; which was as well Bellamant's business that night. How soundly they slept I can't say: But they met exactly together at the time and place. Good morrow to your Lordship, (cry'd Worthygrace.) A happy one to my Dear and Honour'd Friend, (Return'd my Lord.) E're we begin this unfriendly dispute (continu'd he) let me endeavour to make an acknowledgement and return of the [Page 93] Obligation you laid on me yester­day.—I here declare, before these Gentlemen, our worthy Friends, that I am the Aggressour: That I pro­vok'd you to seek my Life, to defend your own. I know your Circumstan­ces with his Majesty are not so ad­vantageous for you, as I cou'd wish: I am sensible, you refus'd to serve him with your interest, for taking off the Penal Laws and Test. Mine are quite otherwise: This Letter there­fore, pursu'd he, shewing a Letter, is superscrib'd To his most Sacred Majesty, whom Heav'n bless! said the Lord Bellamant; this of my Death will give a just account; as well as of the manner how I sought it.—O! this, my Lord, reply'd Worthygrace, this is unjustly Generous: since 'tis Ri­val'd Love that makes us both con­tend for the most glorious prize. No more thy Friend but Rival think me then! cry'd Bellamant, as I will look on thee; our Swords will else want points. No more as Friend my Lord? sk'd Worthygrace. No more, t'other a reply'd. Philandra is the word: At [Page 95] which they both drew; and fell to it heartily. Each was an excellent Master in that Bloody Science; and long was the dispute: Many and large Wounds were dealt on both sides; and the Effusion of Blood was great on each part. At last they clos'd; and strug­gling, fell both together, with their Swords and Arms over each others back: And both endeavour'd to rise, but neither cou'd: Which their Friends perceiving, each Party took his Man and bore him off to his Chair. But, to give 'em their due, those Spectators wou'd fain have been other­wise Active; and had been; had they not engag'd themselves most Religi­ously to the contrary: And it was happy for the Principals, that they did not Act in the Bloody part of this Scene. So with Sighs and Tears almost gushing from their Eyes, they took a sorrowful leave of each other: And, going different ways, they dis­pos'd of their Honourable unfortu­nate Charges; as they over night had receiv'd instructions from them.

[Page 96]The two Worthies were soon want­ing to their Friends and Acquain­tance; especially Worthygrace to Step­well; who, as I said before, had some jealousy of the design. Where­upon, next day he waited on Philan­dra, to know, if she had seen, or heard from him: Who was a little surpriz'd, to hear him enquire of his Friend from her. I was going, Mr. Stepwell, said she, to ask you concern­ing his health. His Health, Madam! (reply'd he in a melancholly tone) pray Heaven, he has his life! What means this? ask'd she. I'll say Amen to that Prayer always. But satisfie me, I be­seech you, why is there a more parti­cular necessity of it now? He then ac­quainted her with the Grounds he had for his Suspicion, that Bellamant and he had fought. Avert it Heaven! said she. She had hardly made an end of this short Petition; e're her Fa­ther and Mother came in trembling. The first, in a doleful hey (perhaps, in gam-ut or C-fa-ut flat. In which most of our famous farewells are set,) told her, that the Lord Bellamant [Page 96] had basely Murther'd Noble Mr. Wor­thygrace. However, added he, 'tis some comfort yet, that he first dis­patch'd that Papist Bully; who else wou'd ha' Cut his Throat, with Pistols, Fuzees, Musquet, Blunderbusses, and all sorts of Fire-Arms. At this Step­well cou'd hardly forbear smiling, for all this sorrowful account of his Friend and Patron: But Philandra and her Mother were almost drown'd in floods of their own Tears. Howe­ver, Philandra, recollecting her self a little, told her Father, that she cou'd not believe, Bellamant had basely Mur­ther'd Worthygrace; since he himself was kill'd before. No, no, Madam, reply'd Stepwell, all the World knew my Lord too Generous to do any thing below the Character of the bravest. But, why, Mr. Stepwell, said the Mother, since you had but too just a suspicion of their intention; why did you not endeavour to prevent 'em in it? Alas, Madam, reply'd he, no­thing but Heaven or the King's Com­mands cou'd have hinder'd it. Nor cou'd the last have long obstructed [Page 97] their fatal Resolutions. O, most un­fortunate of Womankind! cry'd out Philandra: Who will endure to hear my hated name? Since, for my sake two such brave Men are lost. My dear Daughter, and only Child (said the old Man) do not grieve so immode­rately! Sir Blunder is yet alive, who will make a better Husband for thee than either of 'em; and him, I resolve thou shalt marry to morrow; or I profess, thou sha't not inherit one hundred pence of my Estate. At this the Daughter fell into a swoon, and no sooner was she come to her self, than the Lady-Mother fell into a Fit: Insomuch, that there was a most hel­lish stink for the space of an hour and half: In all which time she shew'd variety of Postures, and wonderful A­gility of Body. The Perfumes with which they entertain'd her dainty Nostrils, were Assa Foetida, Spirit of Armoniac Salt, Spirit of Castor, Oil of Amber: The next Fumigations were of abount a pound or two of Feathers, and a blue Apron and half of the Kitchin-Maids; which last stank so powerfully, that it brought [Page 98] her a little to her self!—Give me a little Water (Cry'd she in a weak Lan­guishing tone) at which her then useful Husband saluted her on one side, with the wholesome Scent of Spirit of Harts-horn; which, with a Cup of Flower and Water did her business most effectually for the present: Tho, when Mr. Physmacary came to look in­to her case; he pronounc'd her a Dy­ing Woman. For she had so strain'd her self in acting her part, that there was not a joynt about her, that did not most sensibly suffer in this elaborate Scene. Besides she had been too frequently busy in her Closet, with her cold Tea and right Irish Us­quebagh; so that in less than a fort­nights time she dy'd: And not many days after, the old Skeleton her Hus­band cheated the Worms with a meer dry Carkass. However he had the satisfaction e're he dy'd, to see and speak with his dear Daughter; to whom he gave the blessing of above 30000 l. Estate. For the other Blessing of his Prayers ('tis fear'd) they did her more hurt than good. Philandra, during the time of his sickness, was [Page 99] very diligent in her Attendance on him; which he rewarded with all his Worldly goods, except a thousand pounds; which he bequeath'd in Legacies to some of his Piteous Poor near Relations, and to his menial Servants. Not forgetting his good Friend Sir Blunder; to whom he gave a Diamond-Ring worth above an hun­dred pounds; and withal begg'd his kind assistance of his Daughter, when­ever she shou'd need it: Recommend­ing him to her once more as the fittest Man for her Husband.—You may believe, she took on like any thing, for the death of a Father, whose life robb'd her of such an Estate; and the Pleasure of managing it according to the Gayety of her humour.

The first thing she did then, after the Interrment of her Father, which was very solemn and sumptuous, was to remove from that dismal Scene of Sorrow and Villany; that damn'd, ugly, old, dark House in the City, whence she had bury'd her two best Friends; to adorn a Country-House of her's about seven miles off; where she continu'd, to every one's thinking that [Page 100] saw her, in deep Mourning somewhat more than a month: In which time the two Rivals were perfectly cur'd of the Wounds they had given each other, by the extraordinary care and skill of their Friends, on both sides; which however was unknown to each other. But the Wounds they had re­ceiv'd from their false and Cruel Mi­stress (as Bellamant and Worthygrace both thought her) were still bleeding fresh, if any body cou'd have seen into their Hearts, you must think. The news of their Death was still currant all over England, among those who had heard of their dispute; as well Friends as Strangers: unless, among those who manag'd this report: which gave Worthygrace opportunity to slip over into France, in a disguise; where he thought to find a Brother of his, of about seventeen: But (it seems) he was gone for Rome about 2 months before the arrival of his elder Bro­ther. Mean while the Lord Bellamant caus'd a Coffin to be privately bury'd in a Chappel of his in Lancashire, where best part of his Estate lay: The Report of his Death, which [Page 101] now was no longer doubted, gave him the happy opportunity of Transforming himself into the habit of his Sister Arabella; the exact like­ness he had before; insomuch, that he might easily have deceiv'd his own Wife, if he had been marry'd, unless, perhaps, in Bed.

'Twas in this seeming Transmuta­tion of Sexes that he waited on Phi­landra at her House (for he had an account of all her motions, as well as of all the accidents in the Family at the old Dungeon) The counterfeited Arabella pretended to be iust arriv'd from France, and that she came to enquire of Philandra, whether my Lord her Brother were alive or dead. Philandra was strangely surpriz'd to hear that Arabella was come to give her a visit; and ran instantly, with all the wings that wonder cou'd give her; and add to those, the haste that her love to the memory of the Lord Bellamant inspir'd her with, and you can think no otherwise than that she flew to receive the suppos'd Arabella, whom she embrac'd with the most endearing expressions of Love, and [Page 102] Friendship, that a Soul like hers was capable of pretending; adding a kiss almost at every period. And when she nam'd Bellamant, whole Ri­vers of tears flow'd silently from her fatal, and then most charming eyes; as if she seem'd to endeavour with those, to wash off her guilt of his blood. Bellamant was damnably put to't, to check and withold himself from a discovery of who he was; so provoking were her Caresses: But the apprehensions he had of his Rival's death, forbad him to hazar'd his life in a Womans hands, tho' it had al­most flown from him whether he wou'd or no, while she was kissing him. With some difficulty I think he got loose from the Serpent's em­braces; telling her, that the memory of the dear Lord her Brother was so afflicting, that unless she took a little air, she shou'd immediately Die away. With that, he withdrew to the win­dow, and a kind fresh gale pretty well cool'd him. Then turning again to her, he presented her with a Paper. See here, Madam (said he) how pas­sionately and constantly my dear Bro­ther [Page 103] lov'd you; this I found among some Papers of his, superscrib'd to you. Philandra took it, and read,

This, Madam, said he, you may believe was written since his fatal en­gagement with Mr. Worthygrace; for the Characters of the Letters seem, as if made by a weak and tremulous hand. I fear they were, reply'd she, but his Character is engrav'd here in my heart, too fair and deep to be eraz'd by any thing but Death. The feign'd Arabella then gave her his Pi­cture drawn in minature, and set in Gold, incircled with Diamonds, and other Stones of great value; which she receiv'd with a thousand kisses, and lodg'd it between her lovely Breasts. That, Madam, said he, should have been the Throne of the Living and Substantial Bellamant. And [Page 105] so it shou'd, return'd Philandra, cou'd he but live again. In vain we wish, or suppose that, Madam, reply'd he, I must therefore divorce my self from your dear sight, that with the greater freedom I may alone mourn his hard Fate. 'Twill be perform'd with the greater Solemnity, Madam, (said Philandra) if you stay, and see me bear the heavier part; for the loss of a Brother is not comparable to that of a Lover. However, Madam, re­ply'd he, I shall be the more sensibly afflicted, to see my self out-done in my Grief. No, Madam, interrupted Philandra, you shall not rob me so soon of your Charming Conversation, for I did at least flatter my self with the hopes of your Ladyships stay here this week. You'll pardon me, Madam, said Bellamant, I have yet lain but two Nights in England, and have not so much as any outward shew of mourn­ing for the loss of so dear a Brother. As soon as I reach'd the Town, I went to pay my earliest respects to you, Madam, at the old House; and not finding you there, I learn'd from [Page 106] Sir Blunder where I might be so hap­py. And now, Madam, added he, you cannot but grant that it is neces­sary I shou'd make all possible haste to my dear Brother's Lodgings (whence I came directly to wait on you) to order what befits my Quality, and present Circumstances. In this, (re­turn'd Philandra) tho' with some re­gret, I must submit to your Ladyship, yet not without a promise of as spee­dy a return as your Honours conve­nience shall present. I do most cer­tainly oblige my self to that happi­ness, Madam, Reply'd the Beautiful Counterfeit, and I am so far provided, that I have already found, and enter­tain'd my Brother's Coach-man, and two of his Footmen, who brought, and attended me hither; but Theodora my Woman, whom I took with me to Paris, I left there at my coming away, hardly recover'd of a Surfeit she took with eating too many Grapes: Nor do I mean to take any other, being almost assur'd of her Recovery. Secure in your goodness of your pro­mise, Madam, said Philandra, I shall [Page 107] now more earnestly look and wish for that kind and blessed day, that shall return you to my longing arms, than I shou'd expect my Wedding-day with the most Beautiful and most Accom­plish'd Man breathing. O happy, yet happy Bellamant (cry'd he) if thou knewst how kindly thou art preserv'd in her memory, to which, I eternally recommend, and leave him. Madam (return'd Philandra) I am your Ho­nours most humble Servant— So waiting on him to his Coach, they bowed, and parted.

While Bellamant was thus successful­ly personating his Sister Arabella; Worthygrace, who had been near a fortnight in Paris, one day made a visit to a Lady of Quality of his for­mer acquaintance; with whom he found the Lady Arabella, in company with the Lady her Relation, to whom she went over. You may imagine he was a little startl'd at so strange a Rencounter, especially, when her Beautiful Face reminded him so nearly of the Lord her Brother, whom he believ'd kill'd by his hand. He was [Page 108] going therefore to retreat; telling the Lady, that since he saw her en­gaged in better Company, and, hap­ly, in greater business than a bare formal Visit, which he then came to pay her, he wou'd take an opportuni­ty to wait on her, to obtain his par­don, for having given her a diversion of happiness she must needs enjoy in the Conversation of those fair La­dies.

The Lady, his friend, who was of an extraordinary good humour, and had a great respect for him; ran im­mediately to him, and taking him by the hand, told him, that his visit was so surprizingly pleasant, since she had not seen him in more than a twelve month, and knew not that he was in France; that if Madam Maintenon had been there, discoursing and consulting her how to make her great at Court, (which she cou'd not be so vain or fond as to wish) she wou'd certainly have left her abruptly, to have en­quir'd of his health, and the present state of his Affairs, if he wou'd not have condescended to joyn conversa­tion [Page 109] with them. Worthygrace seeing himself so finely drawn in, set as good a face upon the matter, as his Con­science wou'd permit him; and after having made his Baise-mains to all three of them, he sat down, and en­tertain'd 'em very pleasantly for about half an hour; partly with some of the late accidents that befell him in Eng­land; giving 'em a little hint of the passion he had for a Beautiful Lady; but never so much as touching upon any dispute he had for her, or naming the Lord Bellamant. Arabella, who all this while look'd on him very stedfast­ly, when ever his eyes were turn'd from her, which he took care shou'd not be very often. Told him, after he had given 'em an account of his misfortune in Love, she fancy'd she had the honour to be known to that Beautiful English Lady, to whom he had pay'd so great a devotion, as well as the good fortune to have seen him once in the Mall with her, where then was the Lord Bellamant, her Brother. And I remember, Madam, return'd he, that I then had the happiness to be­hold [Page 110] those irresistable Charms you bear about you, without the appre­hension of any danger from 'em; since then I was pre-possess'd: But now I find a greater misfortune attends me; for that I know, from this moment I must both Love, and Despair. Ara­bella, who possibly had a very advan­tageous opinion of his Person, and Character, the last of which, she had from her Brother; blush'd, and smil'd, telling him, that she cou'd not but commend his Gallantry, tho' it were so customary to him. She then pro­ceeded to ask him when he saw her Brother? and whether he were well, or no? To which, he answer'd, that it was near two months since he had the honour to see him. And, added he, Madam, I hope in Heaven he is well. If, Sir, said the Lady Arabella, you have had such ill fortune in your Love of Philandra, I am apt to flatter my self, that my Brother may have better; since I have often heard him say, he valu'd no Rival but your self. I can assure your Ladyship, reply'd he, he has none of me now. But when [Page 111] did your Ladyship hear from him? Not these two months, return'd Arabella, that is, Sir, I have receiv'd but one Letter from him since I left England; which came to me some few days after my arrival hither— Worthygrace thought it was very odd, that he shou'd have been almost as long dead, and she not have an account of it in all this time. However, he thought fit to ask her no more questions for Conscience sake. So that after about an hours more discourse of the Affairs of the French Court, and of Things indifferent to them, the Ladies took their leave; and when Worthygraee had seen 'em in their Coach, he return'd with his good humour'd Acquaintance; to whom he made a solemn declara­tion of his sudden passion for Arabella; and withall, told her what reason he had to despair of succeeding in it; not so much as omitting the Duel, nor the fatal Consequence, as he thought, of it. The Lady was much disturb'd at the bloody part of the story; however, she promis'd her assistance, and the interest she had [Page 112] with the Person of Honour, Arabella's Relation. But by the way, she ask'd him, how he cou'd so easily quit him­self of Philandra's Chains, and so im­mediately fall passionately in love with Arabella? To which he reply'd, Ma­dam, your last Question is an answer to your first, because I am faln pas­sionately in love with Arabella, whom at first sight I thought one of the most Beautiful Creatures in the world; therefore I have quitted my self of Philandra's chains. Nor is this all, for I am sensible, that this Lady was Educated in all the strict, yet ge­nerous Principles of true Vertue, and Honour, tho' she be a Roman-Catho­lick: Not to speak of the advantage she has of Philandra, in real Beauty; which, on a review, any impartial eye may discern; when t'other has but a tawdry, wanton, fading pret­tiness, which cannot hold above ten years. Nor will I much reflect on the ill Principles of her Parents, nor the Ill-gotten Estate, that made her Father the first Worshipful Rogue of his Fa­mily; who brought her up in the true [Page 113] Whining and Canting Principles of a most Famous City, where there are above a thousand several Families of the Gripley's. But why, ask'd the La­dy, was not all this consider'd before you fought? Before we fought, Ma­dam, reply'd he, I lov'd her, and cou'd think o' nothing but enjoying her. But, Madam, continued he, to your discretion I commend all my fu­ture happiness on Earth; and I hum­bly kiss your hands 'till to morrow. Be confident, she return'd, you shall not want the best endeavours of your Servant.

When Worthygrace left her, he went directly to his Lodgings, and dispatched a Letter to his Sister Hen­rietta, a Lady of about Eighteen; be­ing a year older than her Brother Horatio, at that time in Italy: In which, he entreated her by all means, to confirm, and continue the Report of his Death; and with all, begg'd of her to dispence with her modesty so far for his sake, as to personate her younger Brother in Man's habit; for in that borrow'd shape, she might the [Page 114] more freely converse with Gentlemen in Town, some of which, might hap­pily give her a certain account, whe­ther the Lord Bellamant were living, or dead; if not, possibly Philandra wou'd, whom he advised to deceive with that disguise, unless she found her a friend to his interest; which wou'd undoubtedly strengthen her, and all the rest of his Acquaintance, in the opinion of his death, and that perhaps, was the only way to preserve his life. With this Letter, he sent her a Bill of Exchange for a Thousand Pounds, that she might appear as her Brother Horatio, next Heir to the Estate.

Upon perusal of these Papers, she was at first in a dispute, whether she shou'd act according to her Brother's entreaty, or obey the severe dictates of her modesty, which seem'd abso­lutely to forbid her to change her Sexes habit: but at last she was over­rul'd, by the necessity of her Brother's Circumstances. Wherefore leaving Yorkshire in Man's Cloaths, with a young Gentlewoman her Attendant, [Page 115] she came to Town; where she equip'd her self, and her Companion with Mourning Suits; the Mourning Coach and Liveries were soon prepar'd, and all things necessary, and decent. And thus accouter'd, she resolv'd first for Philandra's, having had a great cu­riosity a long time, to see that fatally Celebrated Beauty. Rightly imagi­ning too, that she might as soon learn the certainty of Bellamant's Life, or Death, from her, as from any one of my Lord's Acquaintance in Town, to whom she was as yet a stranger. The feign'd Horatio was most kindly re­ceiv'd by Philandra, with all the signs of a most sensible grief, for the death of so brave a Man, and so Generous a Lover as Worthygrace. Telling the Counterfeit Horatio, that she cou'd not part with so near a Relation, and so dear a Friend of that Worthy Man, whose Love was his only fault, and misfortune; without giving him more signal proofs, and ample expres­sions of the veneration she had for his Memory; wherefore she must needs oblige him, and his friend, to stay [Page 116] some few days with her; which, after some importunity, they yielded to; where we will leave 'em, and make a trip over into France.

The next day after Worthygrace had entertain'd Arabella with the discourse of his unfortunate Love; the French Lady of Quality, Worthygrace's par­ticular Friend, went with him in his Coach, to wait on the Lady Arabella, whom they found almost drown'd in tears; however, she receiv'd 'em with all the evenness of temper that her afflicted Circumstances wou'd al­low of. The Lady ask'd her, what cou'd so suddainly overcast the ac­custom'd Sun-shine of her face, and serenity of her mind; with which but yesterday she had made 'em so happy. She reply'd, that she had re­ceiv'd a Letter not two hours since, that brought her a certain account, that her Brother was kill'd in a Duel, about two months ago.

Wherefore, Madam, (pursu'd she) I hope, you'll rather pity and pardon, than blame these Tears; which seem to give your Ladyship and this Ho­nourable [Page 117] Person, your Friend, but a rude and untoward Reception. Ah, Madam, (reply'd the French Lady with Tears in her Eyes) your Grief appears so beautiful and just on so sad an oc­casion; that I'm in Love with it; and must, in some measure partake of it. For, I have sometimes had the Honour of my Lord your Brothers obliging Conversation.—All this (you may believe) was no little mortifi­cation to Worthygrace; who told Ara­bella, that, tho' Nature had deny'd him the relief of expressing his sorrow in Tears; yet he believ'd, his Heart was as sensibly touch'd with the loss of so Gallant a Man, even as the Charm­ing Arabella's. (And I am apt to Cre­dit him) And, Madam, (continu'd he) since we find your Ladyship under so great a pressure of Affliction we ought to esteem our selves happy in our visit to you; since we may help to bear some part of its weight, and break the violence of its fall on so tender a Heart. In my opinion (said Climane, the French Lady his Friend) 'twere bet­ter, we let the torrent of her Grief [Page 118] waste its impetuosity without any op­position; and leave her, as it were to Enjoy the fullen Usurper of her Rea­son. There is a kind of satisfacti­on in a silent and interrupted Melan­cholly. 'Tis confess'd, Madam, (re­ply'd he) but to give place to it at first I fear, may embolden and confirm it. I am oblig'd, Sir, (said Arabella) to the kindness of your fears: But, I must needs acknowledge it a greater Obligation, if you will permit me the Pleasure of this one days retreat. For these ensuing hours (return'd Climane) we shall not contend with your Lady­ship: But to morrow, in the name of good Reason, we claim as our own. 'Tis indispensibly due to our Charity. Look therefore you propose to receive us with as little uneasiness as we can expect from a Lady in your Circum­stances! So, without staying for an answer, or making any Complements, they took their leaves in an humble and profound silence. She was very glad they were gone: For tho' she were extreamly troubled at the news her Brother sent her of the desperate [Page 119] condition he lay so long under, thro' the largeness and number of his Wounds; yet she was overjoy'd at the certain knowledge of his Reco­very: So that if they had stay'd any considerable time, she cou'd not have maintain'd that sorrowful Counte­nance with which she at first receiv'd 'em, to the end of the Chapter: And, if she had not; 'twou'd direct­ly have cross'd Bellamant's design of having his Death believ'd in France, as well as here: To which end, he writ to her to put on Mourning, and all outward shew of Grief, for the loss of an only Brother: And withall, advis'd her, to make what convenient haste she cou'd to England; all which she most punctually observ'd: As Hen­rietta did her Brother Worthygrace's here; who, in less than a weeks time, had so well founded the depths of Philandra's Heart; that she perceiv'd, Philandra was clearly for rewarding the survivor in the Duel; had there been any, as she suppos'd there was not; with the enjoyment of her Per­son and Estate. Upon which, to make [Page 102] a sure bargain for her Brother, not knowing that his Heart was now o­therwise engag'd, she made an ouvert Relation to Philandra, of the whole Business; not so much as concealing her own Sex. How, ( cry'd Philandra, in a transport of joy, not to be equall'd or Counterfeited but by her self.) Does that great and Generous Soul still in­form and Actuate the Body of your dear Brother and my Lover!— And, are you not Horatio? who are you then? I am call'd Henrietta, Ma­dam (reply'd she) only Sister to Worthy­grace; who is now in France, waiting till the Tide of State turn; or to pro­cure his pardon: which (alas!) I think, is not in humane prospect. O! might I but see him once more e're I dy'd (said Philandra) if seeing him must be All, I then shou'd go con­tented to my Grave. That's as your Love or Interest shall instruct you, Madam, (reply'd Henrietta) but I ra­ther hope you'll consult the first only. But (possibly) he has forgot me now: Or, which is worse, may have ano­ther Mistress. I doubt not, Madam, [Page 121] (reply'd Henrietta) to satisfie you of the contrary within these few weeks; and to shew you his most grateful ac­knowledgements, under his own hand and seal, of so great and unexpected a favour as you have promis'd. In the mean time, I beg your Ladyship will still receive me as my Brother Horatio, the better to continue the o­pinion of his Death. That, Madam (return'd Philandra) is but necessary to his greater security.

As they were thus concluding on matters between 'em, Sir Blunder Slouch led in the feign'd Arabella to 'em: Whom assoon as Philandra saw, she whisper'd to Henrietta, This is the Lady Arabella, Sister to the Lord Bellamant. Be cautious in your Discourse! She then receiv'd and embrac'd the P [...]oated Lord, with a great deal of respect and tenderness: Who return'd her Com­plements and Caresses with equal Ce­remony and Ardour. Telling her, he was now come to be happy for a week or more in her admir'd Compa­ny. The two Contrefeits then salu­ted each other; after which Philandra told the feign'd Arabella, that it was [Page 122] Horatio younger Brother to Worthygrace, whom then she saw: And begg'd, that the fatal effects ef their Brother's Gallantry might not give them any resentments against each other. Upon which they renew'd their Comple­ments; ending with a Generous Com­passion of each others loss in two such brave Men and so near Relations. Then they din'd together; at that time entertaining themselves at Sir Blunder's cost; that was in their Rail­lery on him: which (perhaps) he would have bought off at the price of half a score Dinners. But however Bella­mant appear'd pleasant in Discourse, his thoughts were very troublesome; he never took his Eyes from Horatio's Face, unless when they encounter'd his: and then, with a Woman's Mo­desty, he wou'd let fall his, and (it may be) with a blush, which t'other cou'd not avoid taking notice of to her self. Now it was not Love bat Jealousie that fix'd Bellamant's Eyes on Horatio, imagining, that the young­er Brother was now come to Rival him in Philandra: yet he rather de­sir'd that she might mistake his Glan­ces [Page 123] for those of Love; which luckily for him she did. After a modest Grace - cup, they fell into Cabals, Arabella and Philandra, Horatio and Sir Blunder, Arabella's Gentlewoman and Horatio's Companion, entertain­ing each other in Pairs. When Bel­lamant, to try if he had any reason­able grounds for his Jealousie, enter'd on a design the most odd and least practicable that, perhaps, you have heard of: for, mistaking Henrietta for her younger Brother, he took occasi­on to speak so obligingly of the pre­tended Horatio's Person, Meen, and Conversation, to Philandra, that she cou'd not doubt, that it proceeded from the immediate Passion of Love. And, to speak justly of her, though Henrietta had different Charms in her Face, Person, and in all her Actions, yet she had as many and as great as Philandra or the real Arabella. Madam, ( said Philandra to Bellamant,) Your Ladyship speaks so sensibly of this Gentleman's Perfections, that I have some reason to believe you cou'd love him most passionately. Possibly, Ma­dam, return'd he, if there were any [Page 124] prospect of his kind return to such thoughts as you seem to entertain; & that it were not to invade your just Prerogative of Empire over the Hearts of all the desertful Men, I should not blush to own, that I have no common Respect for a Person of his Merits. 'Tis enough, replied Philandra, I hum­bly thank your Honour, Madam, for so free a Confession: And shall esteem myself infinitely happy, if your La­diship will use me as an Instrument in the uniting two such generous Hearts. Be confident of me, I beseech your Ladiship, continued she, and be easie, for I will so manage this Affair, that he shall make his Addresses to your Ladiship. I perceiv'd and under­stood the Discourses of your Eyes on either side, whilst at Dinner. Let not my Modesty suffer, I conjure you, Madam, said the feign'd Arabella, for I had rather die in Despair. Trust my Conduct, Madam, return'd Phi­landra, it shall not cost you a Blush more, than what the Discourse of his Passion may occasion. While the Lord Bellamant was thus pretending a Passi­on for Horatio, the young counterfeit [Page 125] Spark's Eyes did often meet Bella­mant's; which he observ'd well e­nough. And at the same time was that beautiful Youth speaking very advantageously, but justly too, of the feign'd Arabella's Excellencies to Sir Blunder Slouch; who, tho he was no great Artist in Love, yet imagin'd that the Youngster had a Month's Mind to a Person of Honour; which, at the first opportunity he had, tho desir'd to keep it secret, according to the invincible Treachery of his Nature, he discover'd to Philandra: And she, after she had paid her earliest Devoirs to the suppos'd Arabella, whom she left in Bed, went directly to Henrietta's Apartment, and charged her with what she had learn'd from Sir Blunder Slouch. She cou'd not but admire the Secrecy and Integrity of that Knight; nor did she deny, that she had said all she cou'd think in praise of that beau­teous Creature. And all, dear Ma­dam, cried she, comes short of her Merits. Indeed I have a just reason to thank Heaven that she is not a Man. This is as I wou'd have it, said Philandra, for she is passionately [Page 126] in love with you: and I must see your Hearts and Hands united in the Holy Bands of Matrimony, (an't shall please you, Sir.) Why, you rave Philandra, said she, Do you know who, and what I am? Yes, you are the Charming Henrietta, replied Philandra, Sister to my dear Worthygrace, and Woman­kind. And, interrupted Henrietta, would you have the seeming Brother of Worthygrace marry with the Lord Bellamant's real Sister? Why, there's the jest and the earnest on't; reply­ed Philandra, for it will give the bet­ter countenance to the Report of your Brother's Death. But, consider, I remind you, said Henrietta, that I am meer Womankind. I do so; re­plied Philandra, and there will be the pleasure on't, to see how she will bear the loss of her Expectation in you. Ah, cry'd Henrietta, but, by your Pardon, Madam, (methinks) that wou'd be somewhat barbarous, and a great Indignity to a Person of her Quality. Barbarous! said Philandra, not at all, Child: For, being both of one Sex, the Marriage is void of course. And as for the Indignity, in [Page 127] my Opinion, 'tis none: 'twill only be look'd on as a Condescension in you to pleasure her: Besides, we'll find out some Trick or other to part you, without discovering your Sex to her. Come, come, (pursued she) it must be done; I am resolv'd on't. Well, dear Madam, ( return'd Henrietta) to plea­sure you, but (let me own it, with Pardon) more particularly to serve my Brother, I will begin the Court­ship to the Lady Arabella. This was agreed, and proceeded on that very day: and the fair Counterfeit found he shou'd have no hard Siege of his beautiful Mistress's Heart. I think at the third Approach he made to­wards it, she began a Parley; at the end of which she surrender'd on Dis­cretion. Married then they were, but very privately, and with no So­lemnity or Mirth more than usual, unless it were the addition of two or three Country-Fidles, and the plea­sure of seeing Sir Blunder very besti­ally Drunk. At night Arabella was put to Bed, trembling for fear of a Discovery of his Sex; being partly undress'd by Philandra's fair Hands. [Page 128] You may imagine what a fine conditi­on she was in, when Philandra came to finger her Neck, near the place of her No-bubbies: 'twas then she was forc'd to pretend she was ready to swoon away, with a faint and almost dying Voice, begging Philandra and the rest of the Females, to give her leave to put her self to Bed; which, with some difficulty, they permitted her: where she laid her self down close to the Bed-post; a very hopeful Bride. But the Bridegroom scap'd better, for there was no man to undress him, but Sir Blunder, who had drunk himself out of that Office. The Bridegroom no sooner came into Bed, but as Phi­landra had instructed him, he took the Bride about the neck, and, (as it were) forc'd a kiss, and then the Company left 'em to themselves, for that night; and each mistaking the others Sex; after some comical re­flections to themselves, on their odd and hasty Marriage, fell fast asleep. Bellamant with the pleasure to think that he had now defeated Philandra of a second Lover; and Henrietta with the satisfaction that this Gor­dian [Page 129] knot might be unty'd when ever she pleas'd.

Between Seven and Eight the next morning, the fair Bridegroom ask'd his Bride how she had slept that night? To which she reply'd, very well, and quietly, I thank you, Sir; he wish'd her then a good morrow, which she return'd to him; and not long after he rose, leaving the Bride the opportunity of dressing her self; which I can assure you was then very obliging. About half an hour after came in the fulsom mess of Cawdles, with Potions of Tent, and Malaga; which, whether she tasted or no, I was not curious to enquire. After Dinner they took Coach, as they had contriv'd with Philandra; and seem'd to drive for London, taking their leave of Sir Blunder, who in less than an hour went directly for the Town, while they return'd a contrary way to Philandra. This was done to pre­vent the trouble of so many visits from all their friends and acquaint­ance that were known to Sir Blunder, whom they were sure he wou'd other­wise have sent. At Philandra's then [Page 130] they pass'd two nights more, almost in the state of innocence; only Bel­lamant wou'd be now and then re­flecting on the mess of bawdery that Philandra, and the other Women-Creatures entertain'd him with, after the Sack posset, while they were un­dressing him on the Wedding-Night; mistaking him for the true Arabella; which did sometimes but too well re­mind him of his Sex. And doubtless had he known what excellent mat­ter to work upon he had lying by him, all those three nights, he wou'd have gone near to have discover'd, and so perhaps to have lost himself in search of such treasures. The third morning when the Beautiful young Bridegroom was taking a walk about the grounds, Philandra came to pay her respects to the Bride; just as by good fortune she was dress'd, and no body with her, but her Page in Woman's Cloaths, who pass'd for her she Attendant. Phi­landra seem'd to desire some private Conference with her, on which, the Attendant withdrew. Madam, said Philandra, your Ladyship puts me quite out of conceit with marriage; [Page 131] for I have observ'd, that ever since you have been more than usually me­lancholly. I beg your Honour there­fore to let me know what it is that dislikes you in this State, and what you find more than heretofore plea­sant, if any such thing there be. Ah, Philandra, reply'd the suppos'd Ara­bella, I can easily say what dislikes me. I have sold my Liberty, Philandra, and to one, who I fear, had before engag'd his heart to another. He's Young, and Beautiful, 'tis true, and that he is a Man I cannot doubt, by outward appearance; but—I have heretofore dream'd of—I know not what—Joys, that we marry'd folks shou'd be fed with, 'till we e'en surfeited of 'em; but I find he has no other in store for me, than a good morrow, or good night. Or an insipid out 'o bed breakfast of Cawdles, and Sack, interrupted Philandra. Ay, Philandra, reply'd Arabella, this is all the pleasure I find in it. Poor Lady, cry'd Philandra, this is a heavy dole­ful Tale—Good Heaven guard me from such a fool of a Husband. Why, pray, Madam, ask'd the igno­rant [Page 132] Bride, what more wou'd you expect from your Husband? Poor Dear Soul, return'd Philandra, what more? why—At least a thousand kisses eve y day, and one continu'd Embrace every night; or so many so suddainly repeated, that they shou'd seem but one. Alas, Madam, return'd the Bride, this were enough to make any Man's arms, back, and heart ake; besides, I shou'd fear he wou'd stifle us both. Not to consider the loss of sleep, which wou'd discompose and unfit us for the next day's Conversa­tion. Sleep, Conversation, inter­rupted t'other; why, my Dear, sleep ought to be banish'd, at least, all the first month, unless, from five or six in the morning, till eleven or twelve at noon. And no conversation ought in reason or modesty to be expected by any of their Friends or Acquaint­ance, but just in a morning's visit, or at Dinner, and Supper; the rest of the day ought to be sacred to Love, and the Happy Pair in Lonely Re­treats, Pleasant Gardens, Cool Grot­to's, and Shady Groves. Bless me, Madam, cry'd Arabella, what a Her­cules [Page 133] of a Husband must yours be? Nay, Madam, pardon me, said Phi­landra, I do not mean that only such a one wou'd satisfie me, but I suppose this the Spark's duty for the whole honey-moon. I wonder, Madam, said the Bride, what you wou'd do then, if you had such a quiet Spark as mine, who never so much as touches me, nor speaks after the first good night, 'till the next morning. Why, truly Madam, reply'd Philandra, to be in­genuous to you, I shou'd seek my satisfaction elsewhere. O fye, re­turn'd Arabella, I warrant you wou'd not commit that Sin for the Universe. No, Madam, answer'd t'other, 'tis my dull niggardly Husband that starves me at home, who commits the Sin, in forcing me to seek out for my own sustenance. Alas, Madam, continued she, the thing is nothing in it self, but pleasure; the Crime lies in being detected of it. This indeed, Ma­dam, return'd Arabella, is to me a new sort of Doctrine; but I find it very reasonable; how wholsome it may prove, I am yet to learn. As your food, I'll warrant it, reply'd [Page 134] 'tother, and as necessary; and I hope you will put it in practice with the first opportunity. I can't promise you that, return'd Arabella, 'till I have thought further on't.

Immediately at the end of this dis­course the Bridegroom enter'd; who told Arabella that he desir'd to wait on her to her own Lodgings in Town, that Afternoon, because he expected a near Kinsman of his, a young Gentle­man of about Eighteen, who came from Yorkshire almost on purpose to visit him. And since her Ladyships Lodgings in Soho-Square, he believ'd were most convenient, he wou'd leave word at his own Lodgings, where his Cousin Winlove, for so was he call'd, might find him. I'm all obedience to your pleasure, Sir, (reply'd Arabella.) After which, they only stay'd dinner with Philandra, for the Coach was made ready before: and when Philan­dra had oblig'd her self to visit 'em as soon, and often as 'twas possible, they hurried away to Arabella's Lodgings in Town, where he left her, and went to his own, whence he return'd, with some uneasiness, enough observa­ble [Page 135] in his face, and haste. Madam, said he, I must beg your Ladyships pardon, that I am constrain'd to leave you for some few days. I have just now receiv'd a Letter left at my Lod­gings these three days, that calls me immediately into Yorkshire, where my presence is absolutely necessary, to set­tle some part of my Estate. I do as­sure your Ladyship I will be as expe­ditious in the dispatch of my Affairs as may be, that I may return the sooner, to the greatest happiness I have on Earth, your Ladyship— But—I had almost forgot to beg your Ladyship wou'd receive my Kins­man with the same kindness and fa­miliarity you wou'd entertain me; deny him nothing, to express the welcome of him—For, give me leave to say, Madam, tho' he is my near Relation, he is a very worthy, and finely accomplish'd Gentleman, and indeed extreamly Beautiful; and were his hair fair, as it is exceeding black, you wou'd easily mistake him for Phi­landra, in Man's Cloaths.—Once more, pray be kind to him, Ma­dam—With this kiss I seal, and de­liver [Page 136] thee to the care of Heaven— Farewell, my Soul, added he, going out. Heaven keep you, Sir, said she, pray hasten your return—Hah! (cry'd Bellamant to himself) no lon­ger Arabella, when alone. Must I re­ceive his Kinsman with the same kindness and familiarity that I wou'd entertain him? and deny him no­thing —I begin to have 'em in the wind—This is pursuant of that excellent Doctrine I heard preach'd to day, by my most Learned Mistress in the Art of Love, Philandra; whom this Relation of his so nearly resem­bles; that ‘were it Fair, as it is Black, I cou'd not easily mistake it for Phi­landra in Man's Cloaths—’ I'll put all this together; and, let me see, what does it spell?— Contrivance. Ay, that's it. Now is this little fair Devil grown malicious; and in re­venge, that I have robb'd her of the younger Brother, comes to tempt my Vertue, and Debauch me, if pos­sible, (which was well put in) in the habit of a fine Spark, and then to be­tray me to Horatio, mistaking me still for my Sister. And I must needs own, [Page 137] that I fear I am not Temptation-proof. No, no, 'tis certain I am not. Alas, alas, what will become of me then?—Why, I may thank my Petticoats for all the lewdness that is like to ensue—Oh, Petticoat, Petticoat, how attractive thou art of all Vices?—Why, faith now, he was much in the right on't; only in this he mistook, that it was Philan­dra's Revenge. For, the Design was to take the suppos'd Arabella in Bed with the pretended Winlove, to give the feign'd Horatio a seeming just occa­sion of parting with her. Bellamant was ravish'd with the design which he perceiv'd Philandra had of ruining her self; and with impatience ex­pected when she wou'd begin it. How­ever, he spent that night very plea­santly, with his two Friends, who carry'd him out of the fatal Field, over a Bottle or Two. And the next day, about Eleven, one of her Ser­vants, for now 'tis Arabella again; came to acquaint her, that one Mr. Winlove enquir'd for his Master; upon which, she sent the Servant to wait on him in, and came down stairs her [Page 138] self to receive him. The treachery there began with a kiss too— Then after having enquir'd of his Cousin's health, and when she expected his re­turn? And having highly, tho' not sufficiently complemented her Beauty, (at which he seem'd as much astonish'd as she was, at the strange alteration the change of habit, and other dis­guises had made of the Person of Phi­landra, who had on a Black Perruke, had black'd her eye-brows, and eye-lids, and had left a kind of shadow on her upper Lip, as if she had been newly shav'd) Winlove was for taking his leave, which by no means his Lady Cousin wou'd permit; (design­ing a happier Night than ordinary) and in short, prevail'd with him to stay Dinner; when he fell afresh into large Encomiums of her Beauty; sigh­ing, to think that his Cousin was, and must be the only happy man in the World, in the enjoyment of such Per­fections as her Ladyships, of which, he was Eternally to be debarr'd. She told him, she believ'd it was in his power to make himself as happy as his Cousin. Winlove was a little [Page 139] surpriz'd at that answer of hers; yet taking Courage, threw at all; approach­ng her more closely, and kissing her, till her Face was all Feaver, and her Eyes were all Flame Then, by a seeming force she got from him, and with­drew into the next room. I see, said Philandra to her self, my Documents have pretty well taken root in her, she warms apace, I must not let her Cool. Saying so, he pursu'd her into the next Room, where he wou'd have renew'd his Caresses. But she in a languishing tone, and hiding her face, told him, that tho' her Husband had desir'd her to deny him nothing; as indeed she cou'd not deny him any thing; yet she begg'd she might have a little respite to bethink her self what she was going to do. Nay, Madam, (return'd he) that's the way to ruine my Hopes: However, we'll Sup toge­ther if you please; and so contrive matters that no notice may be taken of the Happiness which I hope your Ladiship designs me afterwards. They did so, and things were order'd ac­cordingly; that is, he was put to Bed in the next Room on the same Floor [Page 140] to her: And Arabella's Page in Woman's Cloaths double-lock'd the Door upon him: About an hour after Arabella unlock'd it, thinking every Moment a Month till the House were silent; so near did Bellamant apprehend his Happiness; which he wou'd not ha' let slip that Night for all hi [...] Estate, I fancy. But we must yet suppose him Arabella a little while, and Phi­landra Winelove: No sooner then had Arabella got into Bed, than Winelove was in her Chamber, and had lock'd the Door; and you may believe did not stand long on the cold Floor. Madam, (said he, turning to her,) this Night were worth Immortality, had I not drank too much at Supper: but the Morning shall pay us the Arrears of the present. —How, Sir! (cry'd she) and do you too deceive my Ex­pectation? — Nay, then, I'm sure my Husband and you are of the same Family, and too nearly related. Why, ay, Madam, ( return'd Winlove,) this Conscience makes Cowards, and Fools Eunuchs: Or Women of you, ( interrupted Arabella,) I'm resolv'd I will know if y'are a Man; (pursu'd [Page 141] she, embracing her very strictly.) O, Phi­landra, (cry'd he, speaking in a more Mas­culine Tone,) 'tis now my turn to play the Man, and revenge my self upon you for all my Sufferings, that yet were not worth this ravishing killing Moment, which sure I can't out-live! —Then cou'd not he speak one word more for a whole moment or two: After he call'd her Philandra, the poor Soul was so amaz'd, or overjoy'd, that she did not, or (may be) cou'd not or wou'd not speak one word; till at last he had just liberty to say, Now, Madam, you shall find that neither Night nor Morning shall be indebted to me. At which, she cried out, O Heavens! my Lord, are you then resolv'd to ruine me? —And now, both were Tongue-tied again: About 4 a clock in the morning, Philan­dra, with a thousand Kisses and ten­der Embraces, and with Tears in her Eyes, said to him, Tho', my Lord, you have now by my own foolish In­triguing, rifled me of the greatest Treasure, my Honour, and grasp'd all those Joys at once, for which you strove so long, so often, and so fatal­ly: [Page 142] You will not leave me thus na­ked, and spoil'd of all that is valuable. May not I hope, that you will restore what you have taken from me, my Honour? I now beg it of you as an Act of Humanity, and becoming your accustom'd Generosity and Goodness. Will you not marry me, my Lord? Can you doubt it, Madam? reply'd he, by way of Interrogation. Let me first be clear of the Death of that brave Man; and then, my Life, we'll be as Happy as 'tis possible. She then proceeded to ask his Pardon, that she had design'd to betray Arabella to Horatio, who wou'd have taken that occasion to part with her, still supposing him to be Arabella. And added, that Horatio wou'd be there at five that Morning, or soon after. Bellamant smil'd, and told her, he was more oblig'd to them for their Plot, than he was to his Ancestors for his Honour and Estate: And, after he had taken a fair Leave of her, she return'd to Bed in the next Room, from the place of Execution; without discovering the pretended Horatio's Sex, lest he shou'd forsake her, and [Page 143] marry Henrietta, whose Charms she was but too well acquainted with for her ease. Nor wou'd she rid Bella­mant of his troublesome Apprehensi­ons for the suppos'd Death of Worthy­grace, till she had secur'd him to her self by Marriage.

Between five and six that morning Horatio came to his Lady's Lodgings, as was expected; and went directly up Stairs to her Bed-chamber, which he enter'd very softly, and found her fast asleep, and all alone; for the Key was left designedly on the out side. He did not desire to wake her by any means, and therefore retreat­ed as silently as he enter'd, locking the Door after him. Thence he came to the next Room, where Winlove lay, the Door of which he found double lock'd, and the Key without, which he turn'd, and stole in with the least noise imaginable: coming to the Bed-side, he found her in a dead Sleep too; and being un­willing to disturb her, was returning down Stairs; and going to lock the Door, made so much noise as waken­ed her. Who's there? ( ask'd Philan­dra.) [Page 144] Softly, softly, (return'd Hora­tio, creeping towards her,) —Will you rise? I will just now, (reply'd she,) getting up, and dressing So toge­ther they went to the Park, where they took a round or two, till 'twas about eight a clock. Thence they went to a Coffee-house, where they drunk three or four Dishes of Choco­let apiece: then they adjourn'd to Locket's, where whil'st their little Break-fast or Dinner was preparing, Henrietta began to ask Questions, more to satisfie her own Curiosity, than to keep t'other awake, tho it were very necessary to talk to her lest she shou'd ha' slept: Prithee, (said she) and without any Preface, let me know the success of last Night's Adven­venture; Is she obstinately Vertuous, or are there any hopes of our Parting? Ah! no; ( reply'd Philandra,) she's Chast as Ice, and true to your Bed as the Load-stone to its Point. 'Tis true, (pursu'd she) after a whole Day's Courtship, I at last prevail'd; and, as I thought, had reach'd my end; for I lay with her in her own Bed, from e­leven to four; But— Nay, that's [Page 145] enough; ( interrupted Henrietta.) Hold▪ pray hear me out; (cry'd t'other,) I had no sooner taken her in my Arms, than she sigh'd and wept, and cry'd, Ah me! what do you mean Philandra? you can't carry the Cheat on in Bed I'm sure. Heaven, (said I, in my thoughts) wou'd thou wou'dst make me a Man this moment! This I wish'd, that I might ha' serv'd thee, my dear Henri­etta. And pleasure yourself, Madam, ( return'd Henrietta.) But (it seems) she knew you then? Ay, ay, knew me, as I am; knew me Philandra: knew me to be Womankind, or I dare engage I had ne'er come so near her. But (O!) when I first embrac'd the poor dear Creature, how it did tremble! how short it drew its breath! and the poor Heart of it did beat so very fast and loud, that though the Larum of my Watch beat that very moment, I yet cou'd hear the Motion of its Heart distinctly above t'other. Ay! ( said Henrietta) that's odd and strange: Prithee, what shou'd cause it? Sur­prize, I imagine ( reply'd Philandra) to find me play my part so vigorously and [Page 146] so much to the life. But ( ask'd Hen­rietta) since she knew you to be Phi­landra, what occasion'd you to leave her Bed before I came? O, Madam, (reply'd t'other) that was to blind your Ladiship's Attendants, who saw me go to Bed in the Room where you found me; who wou'd have thought it very impudent in her to find she had recei­ved a young Spark to her Bed; for which she mistook me. I can but smile ( said Henrietta) to think, how finely you had been serv'd, if instead of the Sister you had met the Brother there. To answer you wantonly to your Sup­position, ( return'd Philandra) I must tell you, had my Lord been living, and there, he wou'd ha' done me Knight's Service. But, after all this, ( said Henrietta) I cannot any longer personate her Bridegroom, especially in Bed. You need not, ( reply'd Phi­landra) do you continue at my House, and I will keep her in her Lodgings, for I have engag'd to wait on her eve­ry other day till you return; which you may defer this month, if you please. It must be so, ( reply'd Hen­rietta.) [Page 147] The Table was then cover'd, and immediately after two or three Dishes were serv'd in, which were in­stead of a Dinner: By the strength of which they ventur'd to travel seven or eight Miles from the Town in their own easie Coach. Mean while Arabella, as soon as her Ladiship was dress'd, sent for her two Friends to take a Dinner and a Bottle with her; who came precisely at the hour: so to dinner they went, and her Ladiship eat and drank, as if she had been al­ready quick with three Children, and were to feed Them and her self: for (to say truth) she had taken a great deal of pains. That day and night he enjoy'd himself with his drinking Friends; but the next was Loves and Philandra's. A very pretty course of life this Loving and Drinking is, in my Opinion; which he continu'd for above a Fortnight; consecrating one day and night to his Mistress, and the next to his Friends and the merry Bottle.

Worthygrace in the mean time had made very considerable Advances in [Page 148] the Esteem of the real Arabella; he found her inclinable enough to favour his Suit: The only Obstacle she pre­tended, was, That she wou'd see her Brother's Death reveng'd e'er she cou'd be perfectly Happy in any State: And in order to that, she told them, she wou'd leave France in three or four days. To which he return'd, That he wou'd certainly leave it at the same time; since, when she was gone, he had no longer any business or pleasure there. And besides, did solemnly oblige himself to shew her the Unhappy Man who kill'd her Brother, and to help her in her Revenge upon him. This Overture of his seem'd to affect her very much: And she con­sented he shou'd accompany her to England; which he did, after they had recommended all their Friends there to Heaven's Protection. And on that very day they left Paris there came a Letter from Henrietta, with an account of all her Transactions, since she had taken upon her the Person of her younger Brother: but he did not re­ceive this, till he had been near a Fort­night [Page 149] here. As soon as they set foot on English ground, they made all pos­sible haste to Town; and happen'd to come to Bellamant's Lodgings that same day on which Philandra came to visit him in her own wonted Habit. 'Twas about three a clock in the Afternoon, when Arabella whispering Bellamant's Petticoated Page in the Ear, ask'd, if his Lord were within; who reply'd Yes, Madam; and knowing her very well, ran to acquaint Bellamant, who was somewhat busie with Philandra, that a Gentleman and a Lady desir'd to speak with her Ladiship. He wou'd not tell his suppos'd Lady, that 'twas Arabella, lest Philandra shou'd appre­hend that he knew 'twas Bellamant whom he had seen in Bed with her more than once. Shew 'em into the Parlour, ( said Bellamant) I'll wait on 'em instantly. I can't imagine who they should be, ( added he, to Philan­dra.) The Page led 'em into the Parlour, and left 'em together. Now, Madam, said Worthygrace, I do keep the promise I made to your Lady­ship, for you see in me the unhappy [Page 150] man that kill'd my Lord, your Bro­ther; and I beseech you prosecute me with all the rigour of the Law, that I may not live in despair. 'Tis hard, Sir, return'd she, I see your Love, and our unequal misfortunes, but here comes one that may put an end to 'em, I hope. At that word, Bellamant, and Philandra enter'd.—All of 'em at the sight of each other, stood fix'd, and look'd like their own Monuments. Bel­lamant having a presence of mind above the rest, was the first that broke the Charm; who, crying out, O my Lord, and dear Brother, are you yet among the Living? ran to Arabella, and em­bracing and kissing her cheeks, whis­per'd to her at the same time, that she shou'd own her self Bellamant. My dear Arabella, said his Sister, embracing him again, how happy am I to see thee once more. Ah, Philandra, pursu'd she, I hope you will at last put an end to our dis­pute, in your choice of one of us; at which, Philandra blush'd, and wept. Nay, my Lord, return'd Worthygrace, I am otherwise engag'd, you may be­lieve; for tho' I have hitherto mista­ken [Page 151] your Lordship for the Lady your Sister, I must continue my address to her; and I hope your Lordship is sen­sible that my passion is real. Ay, Sir, reply'd Arabella, still personating her Brother; my Sister has the misfortune to be very like me, and I doubt not that your passion design'd for her is real; Sister (continu'd she) let me com­mend this Gentleman to your dearest thoughts. Saying so, she joyn'd their hands. Do you consent to make me happy, Madam? (said Worthygrace, to his Rival that was) I can't do better Sir, than to follow the advice of my honour'd Brother, said Bellamant. Well, Sister, return'd Arabella, for your kind complaisance, I will add 5000 l. to your Fortune, and make it up Thirty Thou­sand pounds. Your Lordship ever was my most obliging and affectionate Brother (reply'd Bellamant.) Philandra all this while did not know how to behave her self; sometimes she was ready to burst with envy, to see Worthygrace forsake her, for Arabella; and sometimes with laughter, to see how neatly the Bro­ther and Sister play'd a contrary part. [Page 152] At last she broke silence, and said, I am happy beyond Expectation, Hope, or Wish, my Lord, to see your Lordship, and this Honourable Gentleman living, and so happily united. They both Sa­luted, and thank'd her. I dare say my Lord, said Bellamant to Arabella, your Lordship is horribly asham'd, and wea­ry of your Petticoats. You may be con­fident of it, reply'd she. To morrow your Lordship will appear like your self, I hope, return'd Bellamant. I wish my Lord, said Worthygraee to Arabella, that your Lordship had so appear'd in Paris. But then I suppose you had lost all the divertée your Lordship has had with my passion, mistaking you for the Lady your Sister. Ay, Sir, return'd A­rabella, you have spoken my thoughts. Sir, said Philandra to Worthygrace, I be­lieve there is an acquaintance of yours at my Country-house, whom I will wait on hither to morrow.—Mean while, pursu'd she, to Arabella, my Lord, I humbly take my leave. I am your La­dyships Servant, added she to Bella­mant, Mr. Worthygrace, your Servant. They all waited on her to her Coach, [Page 153] and Worthygrace wou'd needs attend her home, that she might not be alone, and that he might the sooner see his Si­ster. Henrietta express'd a great deal of satisfaction at the sight of her Brother, after so long an absence; nor was he be­hind hand in his expressions of joy at the sight of her; Philandra only was discon­solate, who found she shou'd dye an Ʋnmarry'd Widow, unless she took up with Sir Blunder Slouch, or some such Booby of a Hushand.

When Bellamant and his Sister were alone, she wou'd fain ha' known why he had oblig'd her to personate him? Who reply'd, there are reasons of State, Child, too dark for thee to pry into. Now it was only generously to preserve Philandra's Reputation unsus­pected. Next morning Bellamant was dress'd like himself, and Arabella was as Glorious as her best habiliments cou'd make her; and about Ten a Clock Worthygrace, Henrietta, Philan­dra, and Sir Blunder Slouch, who went to visit Philandra the day before, came to Congratulate his Lordship's return to the Land of the Living, as he had [Page 154] welcom'd Worthygrace to life again. To this end came Henrietta, no longer now in Man's Apparel. When the Complements on all sides were over, Worthygrace led his Sister to Arabella, to beg her pardon, that she had thus long abus'd her with the appearance of a Man. How, cry'd Bellamant, is this the Beautiful Counterfeit that I have heard my Sister speak of? It is then in her power to make me the most happy of all Mankind, in receiving an heart that was made for her to command. In which I beg your assistance, Sir, added he to Worthygrace; who reply'd, that he was assur'd his Sister wou'd be ad­vis'd by him in any thing, especially in what wou'd for ever compleat her happiness on Earth; which she con­firm'd. Replying, I am all obedience, Sir, you are now both Father and Bro­ther to me. Worthygrace then presented her hand to Bellamant, who received it with the greatest demonstrations of sa­tisfaction and joy. Now, Madam, said he to Philandra, we have made your choice easie to you; for you can now be cruel to neither of us. I only beg [Page 155] you will not be cruel to Sir Blunder, who has been your old and faithful Servant. I think indeed he was bound before me, and has serv'd out his whole Apprentiship of Seven Years; pray Madam make him free at last, we all make it our Petition to you (said Worthygrace and the Ladies.) I hope, Madam Philandra, (cry'd Sir Blunder) you will at last take pity upon me. Ay, Knight (return'd she) But— 'Tis for my own sake, you may be confident. I am resolv'd I will not be singular, among so many Worthy and Honourable Friends. But first I beg one word with your Lordship (added she to Bellamant) who approach'd her very humbly and respectfully, bowing down his head to receive her whisper—Are not you a False man? (said she) Ay, Madam (re­ply'd he) but that is because you are a True Woman.—And let me remind you, that you have had the pleasure to make a Whore of me, and a Cuckold of my Wife. Besides, I have ta­ken care that your reputation shall not suffer by me—Alas (Madam pursu'd he aloud) what needed this have been whisper'd? —She says Sir Blunder, she will not be debarr'd the gayety of her humour, nor be confin'd to your damn'd Conventicles, nor smoaky City. And truly I think it is but reasonable she shou'd not. In good faith (reply'd Sir Blunder) she shall have Liberty of Conscience, if she'll have me: Upon that, Bellamant gave him her hand; and Sir Blunder was the happy Man that got the City-Fortune; who indeed I think was fit for no man else. My Lord (said Worthygrace) I will follow your generous Example, and add Ten [Page 156] Thousand Pounds to my Sister's Portion, to make it Thirty Thousand Pounds. And now I beseech your Lordship (pursu'd he) to pre­fix the day that shall make us all happy. By this day fortnight (return'd Bellamant) we may be prepar'd for the mighty Blessing. This day fortnight (cry'd Philandra) I'll not stay an hour, but will have the honour to set you the Glorious Example. There is a Domine hard by I warrant you, that will oblige me so far. He was immediately sent for, and they were both Executed at one blow. This day (said she) I challenge as mine; you are all my Guests, and I have already order'd a Dinner at my Country Farm, whither you all must go. Upon this, they instantly took their Coaches, and drove for the Lady Slou­che's; who, as I have heard, about Eight Months after, was fain to be brought to Bed; before the Child cou'd be Born, which was very like the Father: The Lord Bellamant was Godfather; as any Spark or Beau may be to the next, if he knows where to find her.