Scene the First.

By all that's good I love him—yet I must—oh—

Help, help—some help for Charity.

How now Mrs. Luce, what's the matter!

My Lady is not well—

Is that all? your cry was so lowd, I thought of nothing less than a Rape—poor soul, she's very silent— that my damn'd tatling Wife wou'd take example of this di­vine silent Creature—

Pray Mrs. Essence hold her till I call more help to carry her in

She's cold—I'le try if she has life—

Amber, Musk, and Civit!—I protest I know not whether she breaths or no—

she's Essence of Violets from head to foot—what a ra­vishing lip is here!—

What is't I see, my Husband with a Wo­man in's Armes—'tis so—he kissing her— Oh pretious Rogue! must I suffer this! I'le be sooner with you than you desire y' faith.

Come, come away, 'tis pitty such a pretty plump (and I believe sound) thing, shou'd slip into the other World at an Age, in which she is capable to do good in this.

Gone! how soon they've quitted the place, as if the Plague were here—I have often wonder'd at his late cold­ness [Page 4] to me; but now I find he deny'd me those refreshing Comforts to bestow them on his new Miss; this is the crying sin o' th' Nation, grown common among the Block-headed Husbands, as well as with the single Libertines, who think every man's Dish ought to be at their command to carve where they like best; and 'tis grown so modish, that the accomplisht Gallants, as they call themselves, will not Marry unless they may have the freedom of keeping a Love-toy, as they name those lewd Creatures; for a bare Wise won't down with 'em—when Heav'n knows they need not ramble, did they perform their duties at home; but the Wife must starve and languish whilst they are at their Varieties—but in Troth it shan't be so with my peirt Block-head; I'le hold him so strictly to't hereafter,—that I'le spoyle his gadding I'le warrant him—

Heaven's be prais'd, 'twas but a swound—'tis a lovely soul, and on my Conscience not of my old Neigh­bours Begetting—Her skin's as white and smooth as Pomatom—but mum—here's my Mortifier—

Venus bless me, 'tis a lovely Picture—

What's that she's so devout at?—ha!— Stars shine out—

Gad take me—gad forgive me, 'tis the Picture of a smooth-fac't Fellow.

What a Surprizing look is here! Oh these bewitching Eyes and tempting Lips!

Me-thinks they melt with such a sweetness! I cou'd for ever dwell upon 'em—

S'life, she'l Fornicate with the Picture!

Ah Mrs. Essence, what wou'd become of thee, had'st thou the addresses made thee by such a comely Person; that Woman were a Beast that cou'd deny the kindness he shou'd sue for—Oh my curst Fortune! to make one of the Vulgar my Yoak-fellow, 'twere better to be a Miss to such a one as this, than to be Coupled as I am—pretty [Page 5] thing—but such a Picture of Ill-luck is my Logger-head, that a Bear to me is the more beautiful Beast of the two, and wou'd be more pleasing—

A Goat wou'd to satisfie your Appetite—

How now Madam Flippant, have I caught you traducing the Honour of your Lawful Soveraign, your Husband— What, what defect have I that shou'd be corrected and a­mended; this shape and mein in times of Yore were not con­temptible when Knights Daughters with their Thousands did prostrate themselves to me; and Maids of Honour, when I carryed Gloves and Ribbons to Court to 'em, have sued for Kindnesses which you have reapt; and I pray, what are you, but an Oyl-firkin, whose sole composition is Lamp-oyl and Anchovis.

Yes, yes, I know well enough that—

Do you so Iesabel—and after my rejecting my aforesaid creams of beauty to the fletton-milk of thy Countenance, am I thus rewarded? You grow so Ram­pant, that the plain wholesome dish of a Husband won't down with you, without the Ragous of a Gallant.

Goe to, my special Property, and Cover-lid of Iniquity—inslame not my resentments—but restore my Picture—and that instantly—

Then this is my kind Journey-man, is it?—hum, a pretty Rogue to rob, an honest Cittizen of his good name,—but did I know him, by Finsbury I'de maul him.

Leave off your idle fantastick fancies, and re­store my Picture with those submissions that become a Hus­band; and beg pardon for prying into my Secrets, or I swear I'le act what you may repent you e're provokt me to.

Make my Submissions? break thy Neck thou Traytor to my Honour; Slife stop that Clack of thine, or upon Rep, I'le quarter thee, and set 'em upon the Citty-Gates for a terrour to all Extravagant Domineering Wives.

And what shall be done to Whoreing disloyal Husbands?

Yet again!—Stand forth, and make up your mouth as demurely as on the day of my Tribulation and Bondage, which was my Wedding-day with thee—so [Page 6] now, against thy brazen-fac't Lady-ship, thus I draw my Ac­cusation:— Dorothy Essence, hold up thy hand,—hold up I say—so—I will show you, to your cost, what I learnt last Sessions, when I was on the Jury.—

Whereas thou Dorothy Essence, Wife of Thomas Essence, Milliner.

Whereas thou Thomas Essence, Husband of Do­rothy Essence Gentle-woman—

Gentle-woman with a Pox—a Cittizens Daugh­ter and a Gentle-woman—

Not having Grace or Obedience before your eyes—

Not having Grace or Obedience before your eyes.

But being moved by the Diabolical discourses of lewd wild Gallants.

But being mov'd by the Diabolical glances of lewd wanton Creatures.

By Amber-greese and Pomander leave off—or— Hast Feloniously stolen from the body of thy said Hus­band—

Hast Feloniously stolen from the body of thy said Wife.

The inestimable commodity of his Life and Call­ing, his Reputation.

The inestimable commodity of her Life and Calling, her Reputation.

To his dammage, and against the peace of our So­veraign Lord the King, and so forth.

To her dammage—

Cudslid Silence.—How sayest thou Dorothy, Guilty or not Guilty?

Hou sayest thou Thomas, Guilty or not Guilty—

As gad-sa'me, leave off your tricks and plead, or Sentence shall pass upon you to be Prest to death.

Not Guilty my Lord—

Say you so?—How wilt thou be tryed then?

By this—

Good—She's run away with the King's Witness that shall hang her; how-ever, I'le after her, for fear by tam­pering she spoil my Evidence.

SCENE, A Garden to Old Monylove's House.

It's dark—Art sure you gave Stanly right directions?

Madam I did—but it is not yet the hour; besides, shou'd he come, he'd go directly to your Chamber-window, according to your appointment, and the Ladder is lett down.

On better thoughts I came hither to prevent his coming to my Chamber, therefore prithee step up and see if he be there; if not, here I will expect him.

That Stanly loves me, is questionless, otherwise so brisk a Town-gallant as he cou'd ne're have prov'd so constant to his Amour, considering the frequent repulses I have given him; I must reward his Constancy, but not with yielding to his desires; for tho (by my old Master Sir Ti­mothy Thrivewell's contrivance, who having been busie with me, and fearing I shou'd prove fruitful to his disgrace) I am Married to a Superannuated Fool; yet in despight of all temp­tations and opportunities, if it be possible that flesh and blood can hold out, I'le keep those Vows I made to my old Dotard, in hopes that Heav'n, to reward my Loyalty to him, will take compassion on my Youth, and by his death, make me capable of making a younger Brothers fortune.—not yet come?—I'le take another turn.

Sir, Sir, are you mad? shou'd we be discover'd, what can we expect less than a seisure for suspition of Felony, Burglary, or what not, and so be worshipfully hang'd for a frollick.

Thou dull insipid Ass, he's no true Lover, who will not run some danger for the sight of's Mistress; and I swear, e're I sleep, if possible, I'le either see or discourse with her; that when I am in bed, I may dream my self into a passion which may enable me more vigorously to express my Love to morrow: for, if she proves as witty as her Picture describes her fair, I shall be beyond expression happy—

[Page 8]

No question Sir, but you'le be monstrous vigorous to morrow, shou'd you do as you say—Dream your self into a passion.—But Sir, in my opinion your Dream wou'd prove more pleasant, if you wou'd home to Bed, and fancy her one of those fine Ladys you've Courted and enjoy'd; that is the true Elizium slumber! Hang these Night-spirits, the damn'd suspition of their being either Old or Ugly, wou'd sooner put me into a Fright, than create Amorous thoughts.

Sarrah, not a word more, and stir not from this place till I come agen; nor breath for your life, lest any one shou'd over-hear you—

I am a Slave Sir—So, now is he as hot after fresh game, as a new cured Gallant that runs a Tilt against the next Perticoat he meets, to try his Doctors skill—It's not above two months since he swore a Rich Widdow into belief of his Counterfeit Love; for she (good natur'd soul!) thinking him real, yielded; but so soon as he had done the feat, he (like the rest of his Brother strikers) turn'd tail and sneakt away without taking leave—ha—I hear some­body comeing—now honest Laurence, to save thy Carcase, what wou'dst thou give for Daphne's fa­culty of being turn'd into a Tree?

Ha! who's there?—

Cudslid I'me discover'd, but fie come off.—I am a Friend and Servant of your happy Lovers, Madam—who [...]fortunately arrived to ease your griefs:

[Page 9] This must be Mrs. Theodocia—

Is fortune then so kind?—Say Friend, to whom it is you do belong?—

Belong Madam? to whom shou'd I belong, but to him who admires, doats, and thinks of nothing in the world, but of your fair self? My knowledge of th' entreigue of the Picture will convince you who I serve:—Say Madam, is it not an excellent Picture, and describes the Original de­serving?—

My doubts are clear'd, it must be Courtly's man.

That you may quickly do Madam, for he's in this Garden; and since you are so impatient, I'le venture a broa­ken Nose to find him out—Oh Love what power hast thou, that with a picture canst create a flame!

Come Luce, let's hast to meet the man I Love—

He's not yet come Madam—

Art sure the Garden door is open—see—

This must be She; for by the sudden glimps of a light from the Houses, I saw her shape and mein; and both seem'd pleasing—

Ha! there's some body; it must be he—hist, hist.

Who's there?—Now Love assist me—

Hist,—Sir, Sir, it grows damnable dark.

Who's there, Laurence?

The same Sir, honest Laurence; and in despight of the Proverb, no Lazy Laurence, for I've been active; both Brain and Limb I've ventur'd to do you Service, and so suc­cessfull I have prov'd, that with the Emperour I may say, Veni, I came up to her; Vidi, I had a glimps of her Phis­nomy; but Vici, I came over her: y' faith the Town's your own, impatient [...]he is now in quest of you; i' th' Garden to find you out, my Nose and Tree have had several encoun­ters; but that I am honest probatum est, my Nose stands right, and smells your Mistress near.

[Page 12]

My precious Rogue, where is she?

Not far, I'le engage. Poor Soul, I no sooner nam'd the Picture, but she was on tip toe of desire to speak with you: But she comes—to her Sir, fear no colours, for I have broke the Ice.

Sarrah, I hear a Door shut; see if it be the Gardens, and bring me word.

I'le endeavour to find it out Sir, and if I escape this N [...]ght whole, I'le be hang'd e're I'le venture on such another Romantick project.

What shou'd this fellow be? perhaps 'tis one or­der'd to expect my comeing, and with more safety to con­duct me to her.

Is she not a charming Creature? what a Devil shou'd make you quit th' encounter so soon? the Garden door goes with a spring-lock, no fear of being impounded for this Trespass: Well, had I been half as much in Love as you pretend to be, I shou'd have giv'n her further proofs of it e're we had parted. Oh 'tis the fondest Ti [...], and talks so prettily of Love! Y're strangely alter'd on the suddain; you were not so cold and backward when you attempted and enjoy'd the Frollick-widdow at Stamford.

How's this? Some Villain (on my life) designing force on Theodocia's Virtue, knowing she uses to walk late [Page 14] at Nights in this Garden; but I'le spoil his Plot. Sir, dis­cover who that Devil your Master is, or I'le cut your Throat.

Yes Sir, if you defer your answer; therefore be speedy.

The Rogue is gone, and will Alarm the House; what shall I do?

That was my Rascals voyce: Hist Laurence: Sir­rah, Dog, how you yelp.

Another Villain? Defend your life, who e're you are.

My Rival I hope: Now Luck, if't be thy will, di­rect my Sword.

What shall I do, there's a whole Regiment coming: Ha! a Ladder; b' your leave, this shall be my way.

From this place the noyse came; come along, come along.

Now Wit assist me.

How? the Devil! Heav'n have mercy on my soul, what will become of me now?

Thanks good contrivance, this has done me Ser­vice, and all is husht again: My fighting Blade gone too. Now for the soft caresses of my Love, her yielding kind­ness will countervail past dangers: I wish all doating Fools had such obliging Wives as my Miss proves; what a gentile [Page 15] world it wou'd be then? The Candle's brought.

Fortune I thank thee for this discovery and delive­rance: Old man, snore hard.

Scene the First.

YOur reasons Madam have prevail'd, and I'm become your Convert; henceforth I'le curb my loose desires: But which way shall we effect your kind Contrivance, which you for my advantage have design'd? for Theodocia will not quit her Vows she made to Courtly, and your old man intends she shall be Loveall's Bride.

Mrs. M. Were you once introduced into the Family, my Daughter-in-Law shou'd be yours; for I'de so work upon the Old mans temper, that he shou'd believe all I shou'd say was true: I'de add some Cyphers to your small Estate, to make it swell above your Rivals; his Covetousness wou'd then be assistant to the Cheat, and make him embrace you for his Son-in-Law.

What e're we intend to do, must speedily be put in execution; for without question, the person I encounter'd in the Garden, was Loveall, her new-arriv'd Servant.

Oh Madam, my Master's coming up Stairs.

[Page 16]

What shall we do, he's as fond as an old Baboon; the Nights I Articled with him upon Marriage, to lye alone, I designed for the enjoyment of my self; but he is so soon stirring in the morning, that I am as much plagued, as if I had lay'n with him all the Night; but his fondness wou'd soon turn to Jealousie shou'd he see you here; therefore good Sir, hide your self under the Bed, or any where.

Madam, fear nothing: Betty, prithee help me on with my Coat: So, so, now I am prepar'd to receive him, and both of ye be sure to second what e're I say.

Joy, where art? as I say, my Chick, I've hardly rested for want of thy sweet Company to Night: Ha! what do I see? a man in my Wifes Chamber so early? Bless me! in the name of goodness, what art thou?

Be not surpris'd good Sir, I am your Friend and Neighbour.

My Neighbour Sir! as I say, you may be my Neighbour, but not my Friend; I'le stand to't.

It's Dr. Bleedwell Sir, he lives within three doors of us; my Lady, last night, finding her self not well, sent me for him.

But I unfortunately was then abroad; so soon as I return'd, my man inform'd me that your Maid was to en­quire for me; I then immediately came to your House, and finding the Garden-door open, innocently entered; but such dismal shreiks I heard, and horrid Apparitions came up towards me, that I let the place with great Confusion.

Apparitions said you Sir? bless us!

Many Sir; one Devil among the rest, was five foot higher than the Dutch-man that is showed about Town, with a great Beard, flaming Eyes, meager Looks, and a large pair of Horns on his head; a Citty-Devil on my life, by his Crest.

Sir, your Servant, I'le stand to't, the very Devil by his description, that Roger told me he saw.

When I was got home, and had recollected my self, I resolv'd to visit your Lady early this morning, to know her pleasure;—And let me tell you Sir—

[Page 17]

What, what, will he tell me that he has Cuckold me? as I say, I know not what to think, he seems a strong­chined Knave.

Your Lady's in a desperate condition.

Condition Sir! what condition? ha!

Sownd, Sownd, Madam, (to Mrs. Mon.) See, see, now the Fits upon her; this is a Disease incident to young Marryed women, obstructions which often produce Mad­ness, if not timely remedied.

Oh sick, sick, where is my Master? were it not for his sake, I wou'd resolve to dye rather than undergoe this torment long.

Oh kill me not dear Cock with such fatal words; if all I am worth can purchase thy health, thou sha't not want it, I'le stand to't. Good kind Sir, have so [...]e com­passion on a wretched man, find out some speedy way to save my Chickins life; and as I say, here's your [...] which shall be trebled when the Cure is perfected; I'le stand to't.

There is a way;—agen the Fit's return'd.

In short Sir, Tunbridge-waters are her only remedy.

They are sold in Town, I'le send for some im­mediately.

In Town? Save your money Sir; those Waters sold in Town, are mear Cheats, they put a little Salt-Peeter, Brimstone, Rusty [...]on to our Conduit-waters to nauciate the tast, which with the Ignorant, pass currant: but were they right, they lose their Virtue, once remov'd from the Spring; besides, the Air as well as Waters is assisting to the Cure.

To Tunbridge Wells you say Sir; Betty, put up your Mistresses things, and bid the Fellow get the Coach ready, for we will go part of the way to Night.

Wou'd you go, said you? not for the world Sir.

Why Sir, why may not I go?

I find Sir, you have no insight into our Learning; therefore your Ignorance is excusable.

What if I had Sir, what then?

You wou'd not then have offer'd to have gone your self; for as the memorable Italiano, in his Treatise de Ele­mentis [Page 18] observes; some waters are of strange natures, and dif­ferent effects in operation: Particularly he mentions a Spaw near Room, whose water was excellent for the Cure of Barrenness, if Women went without their Husbands: And he tells a Story, that some suspitious Husbands accompany­ing their Wives to those waters, instead of Curing, they proved absolute Poyson to the women, so that no less than six and forty Marryed-women lost their lives in one day: but says he, had the Jealous Coxcombs stayed at home, they had sav'd their Wives lives, and their Cures had been ef­fected.

Goodness defend me! but Sir, are Tunbridge-wa­ters of that nature?

Of a far stranger; for shou'd any of your Servants go with her, it may endanger her Life.

Some body must, for fear of further sickness.

Any of her own Relation or Acquaintance may, without danger.

Let me see—my Daughter cannot, she's to be Marryed; were that don, The. and her Husband shou'd have borne her Company—Oh I have it: my Dear, prithee send to my Cousin Pride, the Mercer's Wife, she's acquain­ted with the place, and found benefit by the Waters; and that very Summer she drank them, soon after she had a chopping Boy.

What you please Master, but my Maid says, some of her Relations live near the Wells.

But Duck, our Neighbour Dr. says, none of the Family must go.

Yes, yes Sir, her own Maid may with security, but none that belongs to you.

Let it be so then, and Heav'n bless the Remedy, and may the Waters pass.

Hast Betty, and put up my Cloaths whilst the old man is in the humour: Oh sick; good Dr. some speedy Re­medy, and commiserate my sad condition.

'Lass poor fool, it grieves my soul, and see, it melts to tears.

Sir Timothy Thrivewell, Sir, and a Gentle-man, are in the Dining Room, and desires to see you.

[Page 19]

My good Friend, and his long expected Nephew I warrant: VVife, I'le see you agen e're you go: Sarrah, bid my Daughter come to me in the Dining-room.

She's there already Sir.

That's well: Sir, I hope you will excuse my abrupt departure.

Your Servant Sir: I'le write (e're I go) a Dyary for your Lady, in what method she must drink the VVaters; and if they operate as I expect, think of getting a Boy Mr. Monylove.

Ha, ha, he, kind Sir, your Servant; how, I get a Boy, you jest, you jest, I'le stand to't.

Indeed Miracles are ceast: What a credulous Ass is an old Dotard. Now Madam I have thought on a way to perfect your design, and to make me happy with fair Theo­docia.

I have, an Intreigue which certainly must take for introducing you into the Family; but at your Lodging we will discourse further of it, therefore hast thither and ex­pect me.

I fly Madam, and shall think the hours, Ages, till I see you there.

SCENE the Second. Monyloves House.

Now Mrs. Repository of thy Lady's Secrets, since my Master, like the bold Knight, is encountring your Lady, according to Romantick method, I, the Squire of his body, [Page 20] shou'd caress thee, the Squiress of her body; and thus I accost my Damsel, and display affection.

Away, you are too Saucy.

Baulk not a young Lover in his first Address, for by all those fine things my Heroe is saying to thy Lady, thy beauty has so smitten me, that I languish all night, and sigh all the day, and so forth.

And never saw me before?

Yes, but I have—thy likeness, but let that pass.

My likeness Sir?

Yes, thine, little wilde Cat: Let me see, where was it?—oh, in my Dream last night; me-thoughts thou wert the kindest, comingst thing—but a Pox on these backward Interpretations of Dreams, for I find, That fancy did, what Phillis will not do.

I hope this Fellow knows me not, I'le try him fur­ther, and will seemingly comply; he may perhaps discover Loveall's intentions to me. Well Sir, I Vow [...]blush to find my self so forward; for I must confess the first sight of you bred an alteration in me, but your gay frollick humour so extream­ly pleases me, that if you prove as sincere a passionate Lover as your Master seems to be to my Mistress, and they make it a match—here is my hand upon it, I will not be backward.

If you are, I'le soon man you—why so, this makes the Proverb good, Happy is that Wooing which is not long a doing. Hang all Love-speeches, they serve only to screw a man up to such unreasonable protestations, that of necessity he must break'em; or keeping them, proclaim himself an easie Fool: But my Master (Heav'n be prais'd) knows better thing good man—ha, ha, he—his Vows will ne're trouble him.

Is not your Master real in his Love to my Mistress?

Oh yes, he's as really Passionate as Tarquin in his Addresses to a Woman he likes; his design is only to stretch a Commandement, or so, with her good Gentleman.

[Page 21]

My fancy questionless must take.

I'le ease you of that trouble Sir, if you please, and carry them in.

Wilt thou? with all my heart; for to say truth, I long to be carousing with my Companions in the Cellar: I shou'd have spoke with my Master, but the business requires no hast, another time will serve—do'st hear oh Damsel fair, when I am full fraught, expect a broad-side from me; for Wine elevates my soul, adds confidence, and will make me boldly express the violent out-goings I have for thy sweet self.

SCENE the Third. Tom Essence with the Picture. Scene, Covent-Garden.

So, so, I have recover'd it at last: I rose early this morning, and pickt her Pocket of it while she was in bed: now I'le take a view of my precious Padder for hearts.

I know him not at present—certainly he was never my Customer:

Wretched Mr. Essence, to what a destiny art thou born, that such a smooth-fac'd Rascal shou'd tumble thy Wife, and rifle her of thy reputation.

What, what wou'd this Fellow have?—honest Tom. must thou never go abroad agen, but must expect to be pointed at for a Hen-peckt Fribble; in troth I pitty thee.

Hell and Confusion, 'tis too true the same.

This Fellow's as prying as an Informer: Sir, what are you, who would you speak with, what's your business, or are you a Counter-Vermin you stick so close? if you are, y'are mistaken in your man: I owe nothing, my Wifes Por­tion paid my Debts, therefore march off before my Indig­nation flyes about your ears.

You must resolve me one question first Sir.

Must Sir?

Yes, must Sir, and that quickly too.

Before you ask it Sir? The strangest Fellow I e're met with in my life.

Leave off Fooling, and tell me how you came by that Picture?

How I came by this Picture?

The truth you Rogue, or I'le send thy soul to ano­ther world.

Rogue? very fine! in short my answer is, what is that to you, how I came by it.

Sirrah trifle not, but tell me, or by Heav'n—

Yes, do kill me, and I'le have thee hang'd, if all I am worth can purchase a Hal­ter. If he be a man of Honour, sure he won't kill me, because I have no weapons.

How? how? how's this? Slise, this is the Villain that does my drudgery as they say; have I found you y'faith: now Thomas take courage & Huff him briskly—ha, ha, Sir, have I found you? this blustring won't do; what, no one but my Wife to satisfie you Goatish appetite: Cudslid a­vaunt, or I'le swinge you.

Oh intollerable impertinence! Rascal, explain thy self, or I'le beat thy brains out.

[Page 23]

If you can Sir, thanks to your Worship, my Nod­dle's hardned and too well guarded with your present you have bestow'd upon me—you conceive me.

Still more misterious; Sirrah, leave off your riddling.

This is one of the impudent'st Whore-masters I ever knew: he is not content to Cuckold me, but wou'd force me to confess and declare my self one. Had I courage enough, I wou'd chastise him till he were impotent.

I'me on a wrack—By all that's good, tell me how you came by that Picture

Well I must tell him; there's no remedy: How I came by it Sir? why I took it from my Wife; you might have sav'd me this labour, for you knew it well enough Sir; but I'le, Ile—but I say no more.

Damnation! is the your Wife, from whom you had this Picture, said you?

She my Wife Sir? what now? yes Sir, I suppose she is, for I believe I am married to her; but I'le swear I have layen with her, and so have you to, a pox on your picture for it.

Thou her Husband! you lye you Dog, it cannot, must not, shall not be.

I wish it cou'd not, then it shou'd not have been: but may that Parson that Marryed us, be for ever chous'd of his Tyths, his Wife Cuckold him as mine does me; may the Children be like the Fathers that got 'em, and his House be­come the Nursery of Whetstone-Whores, and Speering-Bullies; But for your part, since you are so brisk Sir, the Court of Arches shall tame both yours and my Wifes cou­rage; for to shame ye both, the world shall know how you have abus'd an honest Trades-man, and one that has borne all Offices in his Parish: Bu [...] first I'le to her Relations, and let them know her Virtue; then I'le sue out a Divorse, turn her out of doors, and after be fashionable, and keep a Miss cum privilegio.

This peremptory Fellow has plaid me a slip­pery trick, but if I catch him, I'le make him an example for domineering Husbands: Ha! bless me! the Gentleman I think will swound, he looks so pale.

Sweet Sir, how do you, you seem not well? (a comely person) pray be pleas'd to repose your self in my poor House, both it and Owner are at your Devoire, I swear.

You honour me with your boldness Sir; and I assure you Sir, you cannot be more bold than welcome to your Servant Sir. Pray give me your hand Sir: Poor heart, 'tis a fit o'th'Spleen without question, 'tis so violent! and he presses my hand so hard.

SCENE the Fourth. Scene, Monylove's House.

Since Madam, my Father has resign'd his power to you, I question not your goodness will command what I shall readily obey.

I cannot blame your hard constructi­on of a Fathers rigour; and now, to be just to him, I shou'd urge what he already has; (Oh, I faint) but since your aver­sion to young Loveal's such, I will not only propound, but effect a match which may prove beneficial to you, if wisely you comply.

Ha, what means she?

You know the power I have over your Father.

Thanks to his Dotage.

Wisely then embrace the man I offer, 'tis my Brother, to day he will be here; and did not my indisposi­tion force me out of Town, I shou'd have rejoyc'd to have seen him: However, in my absence I'de have you treat him, not as a Stranger, but as one who is to be your Husband: consider, and let me know what you resolve.

Fortune! th'ast made me now compleatly wretched; if I reject the man my Father offers, the world will censure me for being disobedient: and if I refuse the man that she propounds, her interest with my Father, is so great, what is't she will not do to blast my fame, and to my Father aggra­vate my fault? and if with either I comply, my Bliss and Love in Courtly, I must lose: what shall I do? I'le seem­ingly consent to what she has propos'd, and by that means gain time to frustrate what they both design. It shall be so; Madam, your kindness has prevail'd; and tho I never saw the person you have nam'd; yet hitherto, so obliging you have been, that readily I yield to your desires.

'Tis well resolv'd; and Theo. rest satisfied, he has the accomplishments of a Gentle-man, his humours gay, but that will be a good mixture with your Gravity. Daugh­ter, farewell, perform your promise and be happy.

Madam, may your intended Journey prove pros­perous, and procure your health. Yes, I will keep my [Page 26] promise, but it shall be to Courtly; when I prove false to Love, may all things prosper that may make me wretched.

Scene the First.

I Have been with her Cousin, and to give the Devil his due, his advice was none of the worst; 'tis possible I may be in the wrong, and my Wife honest, notwithstanding what has past; and tho this Picture may startle me, yet it does not convince me: why then Thomas Mum, least thy Neighbours shou'd conclude what thou doest but suspect, let me see where am I to goe? to my

Lady— Hum in Pall-mall; to Madam Hum, one of the Maids of Honour; to Madam— Hum—in Covent-Garden. —Agad 'tis a plaguey troublesome thing to be handsome and gentile, for the Women are ready to pull a Man a pieces that is well accomplisht. I was forct to Marry, to be rid of these fond souls; but a pox on't 'twont do, they have the spawn of the Serpent in 'em, and will be tempting frailties which hitherto I have resisted: But if my Wife proves a down right Wife, I'le be mercyful to my languishing fits; —ha—who comes here?

Bless me! the very Rogue, whose Picture I have, Cour­ting my Wife—suspition avaunt—honest Tom, that thou art a Cuckold is too evident.

If you will go, Sir oblige me; pray do, by ac­cepting this Bottle of water of my own Distilling, Sir; that if your distemper shou'd return, the cure may be perfected by my means.

Oh the Impertinence of Women-kind! Madam, your obligations are beyond expression great.

Ha! She presents him too; now the pox upon him, for the Devil has pleas'd her.

[Page 27]

But shou'd it relaps indeed—

No danger of that I assure you—Madam, your Servant.

I was yours before Sir; but Sir, you remember how to take the Cordial.

Oh yes Madam, as you applyed it to me; your Servant.

A pox of her Application; I fear you have ap­plyed something too—

Very right Sir; adieu good Sir, may Heav'n re­store and preserve your health—but, a word Sir, when your Bottle is out, pray let me see you Sir, and it shall be repleated with the same: my name is Dorothy Essence, tis true, my Husband is somewhat whimsical, but you'l find a civil person of me Sir.

Oh Mrs. Essence, your Servant—'tis the con­ceitest Creature I e're met with.

So, so, they are parted—he comes this way; I'le look big upon him, perhaps that may terrifie him.

Ha! that curst Fellow here agen? how my heart rises at the sight of him—what a hard Law is Duty to old Age; he cou'd not sure be of Theodocia's choyce; but she was forc't to obey her Fathers power.

Oh too, too happy man, to have a Wife so fair and beauti­full!

Hye day, what means he?

It is he; but why this strangeness, and his return'd conceild from me. Ah Courtly, my excessive Love wou'd promp me to embrace a Jealousie of what I wou'd not wil­lingly believe, that thou art false.

Oh too, too happy man, to have a Wife so fair and beautiful! what shou'd he mean by this—oh too soon I un­derstand the Rogue; now he has Cuckold me, he basely tryumphs.

Perhaps I may learn something of this Fellow, for I hear he is excellent for intelligence of Love-intriegues, and has brought as many Couples together, as any Parson about Town, but not so lawfully.—Mr. Essence, are you acquain­ted with the person that but now lest you?

[Page 28]

Ah Mrs. Theodocia, I always had a respect for you, and have often commended you to the high-flown rich Blades with Coaches, that are my Customers, how good a Wife you'd make; and is this my reward, do you flout me in misery?

Not I; but tell me the cause of your affliction?

Oh the greatest under Heaven, next to bad Trade, but my Wifes Occupation is good, a pox on her Customers, for Mrs. Tho. here stands the model of a compleat wretched Husband—that Fellow who went from hence but now.

What of him Sir?

What of him Sir? he has Rob'd me.

How? that Gentleman?

That Rogue; he has Feloniously stolen the preci­ous Jewel of my life; my Rep, in fine, he has Cuckold me; now 'tis out, my heart is somewhat eas'd.

It is impossible; can Courtly be so base?

Oh 'tis too true, these eyes, but now, were wit­nesses of his and my Wifes familiarity: to conclude, he lyes with my Wife; now you have the sorrowful truth of my Woe.

Sweet Mrs. Theo. thou Queen of Diamonds, mo­derate thy passion: Your Charity to me is too great, and since so cordially you espouse my afflictions, I'me griev'd that you are not a man; if you were, I shou'd have en­treated the favour of you, that you wou'd have cudgeld him [Page 29] for my sake; but seeing that cannot be, I'le drown my self in Tears, and lay my death to his charge; oh, oh, oh.

Good Saint!

O yes, Madam; yes, too true he's false; but how shall we curb his Leachery?

Ah Traytor! double-hearted faithless man!

Blest Angel!

Sure Hell it self has not a torment equal to thy Crime.

Sweet soul!

To wrong a person never injur'd thee—

Never I, Ile take my death on't, not so much as in the sale of a pair of Jessamy-Gloves, a twelve-penny glass of Essence, or six-penny pot of Jessamy-butter.

She's gone! Heav'ns bless her! how cordially she took my part, pretty Creature! and what she intends to do, Heav'n knows, for she talkt of Revenge—Fie Thomas, why so slow to correct this Fellows lewdness towards thee? for shame do somthing, let not a Woman out-strip thee in prowess, in thy own cause too?—well—for Whetstone to thy Vallour, thou sha't to th'Tavern, one pint of Sack, us'd to make thee as huffing as a blustring Bully, half Drunk in an Ordinary, or as Valiant and quarrelsome as a Constable heroically Drunk, surrounded with his rusty Bilboe.

SCENE the Second, Luce Sola. Mon. House.

You amaze me Madam! Courtly false?

Madam, here comes your Father▪

Oh torment of my soul!

Look you Sir, there's my Daughter— The. re­ceive [Page 31] your Uncle with respect.

As gad sa'me, y'are the extravagantst English Beauty I e're met with, the notoriousest pretty Devil! ha! what charming features! bon mein! surprising graces, and divine harmony of Limbs are here! By my hands, Old man, thou wert inspir'd when you Begot her, she's a very Che­rubin!

Ha, ha, he; as I say, 'tis the pleasantest Wag, and I'le stand to't, his Sisters humour right, when she's pleas'd.

Luce, observe that face, it is extreamly like my Mothers, the voyce too not unlike.

Upon my life, it is her self Madam; I'le take the little Attendant aside and sift him.

And how, and how like you my Garnitire, is it not Jauntee Madam, ha?

I am come reaking hot out of the Academy of Dresses; this Suit was made by the King of France's own Taylor; let me fee e're a Garlick-eating mangy-fisted English Rascal, make the like: Ah with what an extravagant pleasure and delight does this triming sit! ah how notoriously excellent is the shape displayed—this Ribbon—a rare dye! French yellow, emblem of Jealousie, and denotes excessive love and passion; the only colour I value my self on; for Females understand by that my mind and flame; and dye with desire of my ac­quaintance; but for variety, I have a Suit of Sky for Con­stancy; sometimes Pink for Modesty, to wear in such Company as I shall visit that day; for by my hands, little Devil, a Suit of Ribbon well suited with the address we men make to your Sex, is half our Courtship, which is a secret of my own discovery.

'Tis fit you keep it so Sir, for the rarity—what a strange thing is a Travell'd Fop?

How now soul! ala mort! come, come, lay a­side this reservedness; pox on the English breeding; by my hands it makes all the Females Fools: Ah, how fort oblie­geant the Madamoisels are à Paris; there, a Marryed Woman in her Husbands presence, will clip, embrace, and kiss a man she fancies, the first time she sees him.

And lye with him behind her Husbands back.

Mortblecu, a damn'd English censure; by my [Page 32] hands, I believe, that to one extravagantly honest here, there are twenty at Paris; our London Devils are all Hypocrites; for at that moment they seem most coy, they privately are contriving how to enjoy the person they seem to slight—Brother Tim. if ever you will have your Daughter respect­ed and celebrated for a modish person, let her frequent Mas­querades, visit Play-houses in cognito, receive Treats, con­verse with the refined travelled Wits; make Balls speak French, and be obliging to the modish Gallants.

Yes, and have her made a Miss, got with Child, and be turn'd on my hands; no, good Brother, you must excuse me for that absurd, absurd, I'le stand to't.

Ierneè rank English still—a man cannot make address on Gallantriè, nor a Woman be Complesant, but Impotence will censure—But little soul, my Sisters Cha­racter of thee has over-come me, and the blind god at last has got the Conquest—By my hands I love you, and the ra­ther, because I find 'tis not for want of wit, but breeding; that makes you defective, when addresse is made to you; therefore dear Devil, say, shall I sink or swim?

According to your skill Sir—but sure so gay, so brisk, refin'd a Travell'd Wit as you, can ne're be at leisure to Love, nor so serious as to make Addresses.

Then you expect I shou'd have Courted you in a Romantick stile; and whine, as if Sentence of damna­tion had past upon me; hang that dull, common-place way of making Love—but if Swearing will confirm you; by those Twinkling Eyes, Cherry Lips, Alablaster Neck, Painting Fountains of delight; and by all the clouded Beau­ties of your person, which by Imagination I am convinct are excellent, I swear I never Lov'd before, but now am des­perate; yet if you slight it, I'le never Love again—(Sing) Let Fortune and Phillis frown if they please, I'le no more on their Deities call, and so forth—Is not this better than your whining: Oh Love, if e're thou't ease a heart which owns thy power Divine—Damne such effi­minacy—then pretty Rogue, be wise, and meet my Love; by this kiss thou sha't—(offers to kiss her—she shoves Mrs. M. away) oh insupportable English incivility.

'Tis a merry Grigg; but Sir, is this his constan [...] humour?

Ever Sir; this Gayeity has left many bleeding hearts in France; he ne're encounter'd with a Female yet, but he came off Victorious.

Say you so Sir? a notable Wagg, I'le stand to't.

But your Daughter only, as her Beauties due, has gain'd the Victory; for ever since he receiv'd your Ladys Letter, he has been Charm'd, so that his Nights have been but one continued Dream of her.

I am sorry I must cross his dream, for my Daugh­ter was promis'd to another, before my Wife acquainted me of her Brother's Fortune, by his Uncles death.

How Sir, is she engag'd to another?

As I say, she is Sir, to a man of a fair Estate, engenious, and handsome enough for a Husband.

By all means break it off Sir, or you must expect some fatal consequence, for he's so truly Valiant, he'l ne're permit a Rival to enjoy the Beauty he admires.

I cannot help it Sir, 'tis now too late, for I'le stand to't; the Writings of Agreement for settlement of Joynture are drawn up, and tomorrow they and my Daugh­ter are to be Sign'd, Seal'd, and delivered, and so forth.

I'le soon remove that scruple little Rogue. [to The. Doest hear old Oedipus, Father and Brother together, she questions my Virtue and Modesty; this comes, old Priam, of bringing up your Daughter in dull Security and Ignorance.

But Sir, you are Virtuous?

And had my Pusillage as they phrase it?

Yes little one.

A Traveller, and bring home his Maiden-head! damn'd Absurdity? why 'twas the only Commodity my Fa­ther [Page 34] sent me over to Trade with; had I not bartard it away, 'twou'd have grown musty on my hands: no, no, (thank Heav'n) this is a more knowing trading Age, than to keep such druggs on our hands; I exchang'd that thing with the Air: My Callis. Host's Neece had that Foolery, she was pret­ty and deserv'd it: I'le beget no Fool; I, there are too ma­ny in the world already.

But if you are as you say, you may beget Sooter­kins or scab'd-Cookcoes, I'le stand to't.

By my hands, sound as a Bell, both in Purse and Person: See, see, I have Commendams of both—

Now Fortune be propitious— Stanly, What think you of my design?—

Well, hitherto; if you are not discover'd, as yet I find no signs they know you.

Hum—What's here? (he Reads) A particular of Sir Humfry Hordwell's Estate, late Deceased, and now De­scended to his Nephew Christopher Careless, Esq—the Sum total 4000 l. per annum—As I say, a fair Estate, but he's wild, and I have past my word already, otherwise my Daugh­ter shou'd have had him.

How's this? A particular of all the Claps Squire Careless has had since the Age of fifteen, and the several places he got them, with the Catalogue of the Drs. names that Cured him; as likewise an account of all he has layen with to this present time? This is the newest and impudentest way of Courtship I ever knew or heard of yet.

What Laugh you at, little Devil? that shews my Constitution true Steel—by my hands it does.

Without question Sir, and 'twou'd be a rudeness unpardonable, shou'd I suspect you otherwise, when a whole Colledge of Physitians have certified your health; yet I shou'd be loath to venture on so desperate a Lover as you pre­tend to have been, for fear he shou'd not make the Song good of a Healthful young vigorous Lover, and so forth.

By my hands, I'le confirm what they have writ—

I'le stand to't, Brother, y'are the merryest man—But come Brother, as I say, you and your Friend here shall take a hard Lodging with me; I have one Bed to spare; ye are us'd to lye together I hope?

[Page 35]

Now this Old Fool will force me to Cuckold him, meerly out of Covetousness, that he will not foul a pair of Sheets extraordinary,—Yes, yes, Brother, Tra­vellers always snore together.

Please you to walk in to Supper—and then I'le show you your Chamber—

What an old Dotard's this; now will he be Pimp to his own Wife, for I'le make good use of my time, and will not be repuls'd as before (aside): Madam your humble Servant.

Little one, give me thy hand; as gad sa'me good flesh, and of a lushious Constitution: I find I shall be despe­rately in Love; Adieu, my Soul, Adieu: But doest hear, be more complesant and agreeable the next time we meet.

Theo. follow us.

Fear nothing Madam, for I have discover'd enough to break off this proposal; for it is, as I suspected, your Mo­ther-in-Law is the brisk travell'd Blade; but what she de­signs, as yet I cannot learn; but Betty promises a discovery. Madam, here's a Letter in a Womans hand, which I found in the Packet that was left here for Mr. Loveall, perhaps this may confirm what I have formerly told you of that false man.

Let me see it—I'le read it.

Base Villain.

He comes Madam, now let him know your just re­sentment of his wickedness.

Madam, such strange attractive influences y'are Mistress of, I cannot live one moment from your sight; oh wrack me not with torturing delay, but kindly say you will comply with Love, and then my happiness will be com­pleat.

Your strain's too Courtly Sir, to gain belief; there­fore your pardon, if I suspend Credit of them for a time— but Sir, your Man left Letters for you with my Maid, and I concluding so deserving a Person as your self, must in your Life, have some Intreigues of Love, open'd one Letter writ in a Womans hand; you'l pardon Sir the rudeness which was the effect of Jealousie.

That Jealousie was kind, since it often proves th'ef­fect of Love; and I am so free from base unworthy acts; that what you term a Rudeness, I esteem an Honour, since I'me as­sur'd you will find nothing there which can prove prejudicial to my Love, or gain your disesteem.

Your Generosity Sir is questionless, and this has so confirm'd what in your praise I've heard, that when you have read it, you soon will understand what I intend.

What can she mean by this! let me see.

to Lu. Well Mrs. Sweet lips, what comfort do you give a passionate Lover?

The same as formerly, I'le stand to my Agreement; if your Master and my Mistress make it a Match, I am yours; if not, your Servant.

But suppose a man shou'd be too far gone for ever recovering, what then? I hope if thou wilt not commit Ma­trimony, thou'lt show good natur'd, and be civil upon oc­casion?

[Page 37]

Yes, with a Cudgel to coole courage, or with a Hal­ter to end your pain.

Pretty Courtship, 'tis by my troth, and you are won­drous civil.

Now Sir, you guess what I design, false and perfidi­dious as you are.

How, how's this? never see you more: that's fine y'faith! absurd, absurd, I'le stand to't; but Minks, he shall both see and feel you too e're I have done; are you agen re­lapst into your former disobedience? I say comply, or—

I must confess, were th'accusation true, and I of what this Lady charges me, were guilty, her anger then were just, and death my desert: Read Sir the horrid'st Villany that e­ver was invented, and inconsistent Sir with one that's tender of his Honour.

Now Squire, what becomes of your Knight Er­rant, and your hopes?

Why pretty Kins, I'le not break my heart for thee; but if I lose thee, 'tis but once singing Fortune my Foe, and twice being drunk will set thee a float out of my heart, and then farewell to your Ladyship.

Reads—former protestations—hum, fatal pledges of our Loves—(a pretty phrase for Bastards) crimes—hum—affront—hum—but your genero­sity —hum— Eliz. Manly, otherwise Loveall—ab­surd, absurd, I'le stand to't, shou'd this be true: I'le try him.

Now Sir, is't possible that a man of Honour can be guilty of so vile an Act?

Lay aside your Honour Sir, and give me leave, as I say; as you hope to be sav'd, do not you know this Eliz. Manly? Ha! Answer to that, Answer to that.

Not I, by Heav'n Sir.

But that's not the question; as you hope to be Saved, have you no Bastards? Answer to me that Sir.

[Page 38]

Not any Sir, upon my Honour—that you shall know of; for my Widdow, for ought I know, may be forward with my effects of kindness by this time.

This Sir, is some Rivals plot to undermine my Bliss with this fair Lady: Ah Madam, let not such trivial Acts debar me of that happiness I prize above my Life; but if your brest has entertain'd anothers Love (pardon the suspition ground­ed on your concern for a thing as false as Heav'n is true) I will resign my Life rather than be the Author of your discontent.

Away, away Sir, with these Complements, and prepare to take her for your Wife— Theo. rest satisfied that I am convinc'd 'tis false; some trick on my life of your old Lovers; but I'le marr his design: Come, ask his Pardon for that foul suspition you had of him.

How Sir?

I say, provoke me not, but beg his pardon with­out more delay.

By no means Sir, her suspition was kind, and war­ranted by this,—and I am satisfied.

But by your favour Sir, I am not, and I'le have it so—acknowledge your fault Baggage, or I'le stand to't: I'le—

I must comply—Sir, in Obedience to a Father's power, I acknowledg my unjust suspition—(that you were Virtuous) and I shall be careful hereafter how I credit Reports that may be prejudicial to your Honour—(to which thou art a Stranger)—your Servant Sir, and expect an entertainment suitable (to your perjuries)—for here I Vow, henceforth to study a Revenge on the Promoters (of your Love to me)—

So, so, now 'tis as it shou'd be; be sure Sir to get the Writings ready against morning; in the interim I'le en­deavour to keep her in this humour she is now in, lest the Weather-cock of her Female-noddle rear to a colder point.

'Tis in the coldest point already, full North to my desires.

Say you so, then I'le after my little Pyrate, and try to win her on our side.

That Letter startled me, when I saw 'twas Dated [Page 39] from Stamford; I suspected my kind Widdow had found out my Amour, and had sent this to forbid the Banes—I was a Rogue to serve her so, when she out of Charity entertain'd and Cloath'd me when I was stript and rob'd, to top a false contract and name upon her; but my Love, for variety, must excuse that fault; and I thank Heav'n I have weather'd all storms, and doubt not but to attain my ends; for I Love Theodocia to that excess, enjoy her I must, Marryed, or Un­marryed.

Scene, the first, Theo. Chamber.

YOur injuries (kind Friend) shall be redress'd; my Father shall not force me to embrace a man that values not his Vows nor Honour.

But Madam, your happiness depends upon Obedi­ence; you for your safety must comply with a Father's power; yet I cou'd wish (so well I love him) that it cou'd be some way hindred.

What shall we do? this is the fatal day, and every minute I expect my Father.

Within—Rise Daughter, rise.

And I already hear his fatal voyce.

'Tis well, make hast; I'le stand to't, the Bride-groom will be here before y'are ready—Ha Youngster, with whom wou'd you speak so early, Ha?

Now Wit assist me—

My Master Sir, has sent me to know how Madam Theo. does this morning, and presents her with the effects of his Love, in a Song which he writ last Night before he went to Bed.

[Page 40]

He is very quick: I must Marry her off, or this Travell'd-Brother of mine will shew me an Out-landish trick, and Marry her before I have enquir [...]d of his Estate.

Let me see his Scribling—this is such a buzzing crambo Age, that the young Fops account it accomplishment to be thought beggarly rhymeing Fools, I'le stand to't.

What an unluckly accident was this, with­out question Betty comes with Intelligence.

Hum, pretty Childish silly stuff;—can you sing it Little one?

Yes Sir, my Master made it to one of the new Tunes he heard in an Opera at Paris.

Verry pretty; and as I say, your Master can be serious for all his jollity, Young man.

My Master earnestly desires to speak with you Sir.

I am going to him, for I have receiv'd a Letter for him from my Wife—Daughter make hast and put on your Trinkets, for I expect your Bride-groom every mi­nute.

Thanks to my invention Madam, I have shifted him—this Song was presented me by our Butler, who pro­cur'd it made by a mercenary Scribler of the Town, for a fit of Drunkenness, gratis.

[Page 40]

Betty, have you found out your Mistresses design yet?

I have,—and Madam, by what I have learnt, I un­derstand your Maiden-head is short-liv'd, but I having com­passion for your Virtue, and finding my Mistress, your Mot­er-in-Law none of the Honestest, am resolv'd, if possible, to rescue you from ruine—for the Blade that came with her is the person whom she designs to be yours; but not only yours I'le assure you, for my Virtuous Lady lay with him to Night.

Unheard-of wickedness!—But which way shall we frustrate their design?

Troth Madam, show 'em a fair pair of heels, for she knows you care not for Loveall, so that they conclude it easie to win the old Man to their side, and force you to ac­cept of her Love, as she personates her own Brother; and if so far she prospers, her Gallant is to be shuffled into your hand when the Marriage is design'd, and by that means chouse both my old Master and your self.

Cunningly contriv'd—yet, for all this, I doubt not but to counterplot both her and Loveall too—but for better security, we must be gone from this place.

Make hast then and avoyd the Net; and that you may have time for your escape, I'le in, and hold my Mistress in discourse; and let me know where you intend to be, and I'le send word what passes at home.

We'le be at Essence's, I have some interest with his Wife, till we have an opportunity to perfect your hap­piness.

Thou best example of true Friendship.

Malsey's Chamber. SCENE the Second: Scene a Cham­ber in Old M. House.

Your Raptures are too violent to last—and know Sir, I had not yielded now, had not my Old Man warranted, or rather justified my proceedure; for his Penuriousness I cou'd no other way requite, and he was instrumental to his being a Cuckold, for laying two so full of Love together.

[Page 42]

'Tis Theodocia, whom I confess next to your self I love, but chiefly for her money; for Madam, you are the sole Commandress of my heart; and that I may hereafter be serviceable to both, so warily I will proceed with her, that she shall only raise an Appetire, which vigorously I'le lay with you.

Soft Sir, you'le find your stock little enough for her; and for my part, if I cannot hold out, my Dotards An­gels shall turn Prourers at my Command; for I must confess the truth of the Song you gave me, which says—

Betty, what news have you learnt this morning?

Madam, my Master is resolv'd on the Match be­tween Mrs. Theo. and Mr. Loveall, notwithstanding the Letter Luce discovered yesterday, for he has sent for Mr. Loveall this morning; but Luce has been before-hand, and sent Mr. Loveall word that Mrs. Theo. will meet him at Es­sence the Milliners, on purpose to prevent his meeting with my Master's message, and so hinder his coming hither.

That was well done—but upon what account is Luce so Zealous in breaking off this Match?

I cannot apprehend the meaning; however, if by her means I gain Theodocia, she shall not want reward.

I must hold this Youngster in talk till my Daugh­ter is Marryed to Loveall; or I'le stand to't, this young Snip­per-snapper will, I fear, forbid the banes. [Page 43] Ha—what do I see? my Wife dressing her self—'tis too true—absurd, I'le stand to't.

Cuds'lid, my Husband! what shall we do? all our designs are ruin'd if he discovers me—

Let me alone, I'le bring you off, ne're fear it.

Curse on my Dotage; too late I find my folly in Marrying a young Wife, I cou'd expect no less in reason, than to be a Cuckold—

Wife! what subtle damn'd Devil was it put you on this de­sign, to make me the promoter of my own shame?—but Sir, for your part, I'le stand to't, I'le swinge you.

(Laughs). But Sir, do you in earnest conclude my Bed-fellow to be your Wife?

A rat on you—Are my Eyes my own Sir?

No Sir; if you suspect my Friend for a Woman, if he were not, all thy Wealth shou'd not purchase her from my Embraces—here is a Face indeed, as charming as the notedst Female Beauty; but Nature mistook in moulding e­very part, forgetting she had made a Venus-face, plac'd it on an Adam's Body.

As I say, if this be true, 'tis wonderful! and in­deed, I have often heard my Wife say, that she and her Bro­ther were so alike, (being Twins,) that one cou'd hardly be known from the other.

Brother, I thought I shou'd surprize you; by my hands, thou art the most credulous man I ever met with—but to convince thee of thy Error— Iack, pri­thee tell him what sport we have had at Paris in Masquerade.

Yes Faith, my Friend and I have liv'd at least three months upon the Pistols he has had clapt in his hand at Car­nival-time, when he went disguis'd in Womans Cloaths, as Earnest, for ensuing pleasure.

But say old Trojan, am I so like my Sister?

Like quotha? I durst to have sworne you had been she.

To convince you, search me; do, do: but if thou doest not, thy Daughter shall, for I am desperately in Love with her.

Absur'd, I'le stand to't, that I shou'd take him for my Wife—

[Page 44] But soft good Brother, my business of this early Visit, was partly to deliver a Letter directed to you from my Wife; and partly to desire you to forbear any further amorous discourses with my Daughter, sic volo, sic jubio, you understand me▪ I have promis'd her to another, and this I resolve shall be her Wedding day.

How! this day is she to be Marryed? and will you slight Squire Careless? take heed Sir what you do.

Why Sir, I hope you wont Hector me? will you?

I have a greater respect for the young Lady then—

You, a respect for the young Lady? what are you Sir, that dare pretend to have a respect for my Daugh­ter, Ha?

'Tis no harm Sir, to be Civil to a handsome La­dy; it's a Devotion we owe to Beauty.

But as I say Sir, it is harm Sir, and I'le none of it, therefore show you civility some where else.

Iack, no more—Brother, rest content, I'le have none of your Daughter; by my hands not I—for my reasons, see there—

See, see, the Letter works rarely.

It must take, especially as now I have design'd to proceed.

I'le stand to't, the kindest Wife man ever had.

Now shou'd you kneel and prostrate, Damsel, at my feet, I wou'd deny her; by my hands, not once caress her.

How Sir, can you so easily quit a Lady you so en­tirely Love?

What's that to you Sir: Good Brother rid my House of this Friend of yours, for I fear he'le prove no Friend of min [...], shou'd he stay; I like not his Countenance, he has the looks of a slye Rogue.

[Page 45]

Yes, a Quodammodo Sir—bring your Action, I care not.

Such another word, Old man, will make me very Angry and Extravagant.

Extravagant! I believe it; but march off civilly, or as I say, I shall civilly make you Sir.

Iack, withdraw, and let me alone; I have a Plot which of necessity must be prosperous.

Sir, on my Friends request Ile leave your House, but look to't—a Quodammodo said you!

Adieu, Huffing Sir—as gad sa'me he has put me into a filthy pet.

Brother, I have a rare fancy sprung, which if you approve of, must procure your desire.

In what good Brother?

To make your Daughter comply, and marry this Loveall, whom my Sister mentions in her Letter; for since (as she writes) you have promis'd Theodocia to another, I am resolv'd to fulfil my Sisters request in assisting you in your intentions—in pursuance of which, I have thought on a way,—'tis this,—you say I am very like my Sister?

Right—what then?

How if I, putting on one of my Sisters Gowns, shou'd personate her, and fairly at first use perswasions to Theodocia; but if they fail, to use a Mothers Author [...]ty, and Lock her up till the business is done.

How? you personate my Wife! and Lock her up!—well thought on—I'le none of that good Bro­ther; soft and fair, I smell a Rat; I understand you, and so you'l debauch her, if not marry her your self.

Who, I? by my hands, all my Courtship was but Rallery a-la-mode.

But I'le stand to't, you may so a-la mode her, as you call't, that may make her unfit for a Husband.

The insupportable censure of impotence! I tell thee old Blade, I'de sooner marry an Orange Wench then thy dull Virtuous Daughter; by my hands I wou'd.

[Page 46]

A fitter Wife for such wild Gallants, than an ho­nester Woman, Ile stand to't.

Is not my Reputation at stake? a Sisters Conju­ration? by my hands you wrong me, to suspect my Honour.

But (pardon me Sir) shou'd it come to that extre­mity of Locking her up, will you neither say, nor do any thing tending to Debauchery, as you hope to be sav'd? gad forgive me.

I'le do neither by Heav'n.

Good; now if you shou'd, I'le Indict you for Per­jury, and I'le stand to't; y'are a witty Blade, the design must take, for thou art so like my Wife, that I am almost perswaded to kiss thee for her, but that it is so unseemly for one man to kiss another.

Then it is a Plot.

It is, and we'le about it instantly, the Wench shall furnish you with a Gown—yet me-thinks I wou'd be by, tho unseen to her, when you perswade her.

To show you how unjust your suspition is, you shall.

(Laughs). I cannot but Laugh to think how the young Baggage will be cousened; you, her Mother?

The deceipt will be pleasant, what an innocent Cheat it will be? (to both)—but let us about it.

Scene the Third. Tom Essence's Shop.

Well, I find thy soyl Tom, will never produce the fruit of Vallour, therefore I have taken up the safer Cudgells of the two; I have enter'd an Action of Battery against Courtly for violently assaulting the body of Dorothy Essence, my Wife; and my Lawyer tells me, I shall have swinging damages for every bout I can prove he has assaulted her; and to have dammage enough, so soon as I have dispatcht my Customers, I'le to the Temple-walks, and hire two or three Knights o'th' Post, who shall Swear to at least three thousand pounds worth of Trespass, with which I'le buy an Estate, and turn Country Gentleman.

Fair Ladys, what lack ye? delicate Roman, Italiansscented Gloves, good Essences, Tiberos, Orange Jessamine, Essence d'Espagne, Fanns, Ribbons in every point francois—Boy▪— Boy, bring some Essences.

Ha my little Rogues, here are Perfumes—ravishing enough to revive the dead.

You are the pleasantest Creature Mr. Essence, I cannot live unless I see you once a week at least; y'are the divertingst person in the Town I swear.

Alas Madam, I, I my pretty hearts; y'are the Diamond Queen of the Nation; say no more, say no more, I have a rich Blade in store for thee; another time, another time.—

Ha! my pretty Cherubins!—

What a conceited impudent Rascal's this!

Mr. Essence, a word with you—

I wait on you Madam— Iack, bring those Spi­rits came in last from the Iews in the Citty; Rogue, you ne­ver mind, never mind Sirrah.

Let me see'em Mr. Essence—

There are Scents Ladys—upon Rep—oh in­comparable! I can Dine as heartily on a good Roman or Italian Scent, as you can on a dish of Meat—oh lushious! excellent! rare!

What do you ask for these Gloves?

Try'em on, try 'em on Queen of hearts—upon Rep, these Gloves are as well worth two Guynnies as the common Jessamine half a Crown; but you pretty Beauty shall give me but an Angel; I be-friend you I assure you; say no more.

Are you Marryed Mr. Essence?

Yes Madam; yes, I thank my Stars, I am marryed; I was forc't to't, for what with Maids of Honour, and Coun­try Ladys, I was almost teas'd out of my Life—see there,— [Page 48] a Country Knights Daughter; she has for these two years past, all the time she has been in Town, been as constant e­very day at my Shop, as a Bully at the Ordinaries; and she makes Love so passionately, that I was forc't to take the op­portunity of her being out of Town when I marryed, and so choust her (poor soul) yet she cannot forbear coming still.

Y'are very hard-hearted, that cou'd refuse so pretty a Lady; how chanc't you did not marry her? had she no fortune?

Yes, Madam, yes, pretty well, some hundreds; but alas, a Country Damsel is not fit for us Traders in this lewd Town, they'd soon find out the fashionable Trade, to our costs— Faelix quem faciunt Madam, I am as to that point wise, at my Neighbours expence; wag your Honour, wag your Arm a little—

But I fear my Town-Soul has plaid me a prank; but Tom. that secret's for thy self alone.

—Ha Madam; how Ceraphically it sits, and for Scent, smell; smell it little Ceraphim.

What means the Fellow—Y'are Sawcy—

How? Sawcy in commending my Commodities, pretty, pretty—prithee smell agen—

This, ay this is it y'faith— —Cudslid you Whore—

How now Tom, quarrelling with your Customers?

Customers with a pox,—I have expos'd to Air, at least a dozen papers of my best Roman and Italian Gloves; smell Mr. Loveall—and the Baggage laid out nothing but a box o'th'Ear; but I had repartee'd it, had not you staid my hand—but Mr. Loveall, I am heartily glad to see you in Town agen, the Ladys have so wanted you at my Shop.

Sirrah, will you never leave your Lying to one that knows you? you were a pure Rogue to put a common Whore upon me when I was last in Town, for a person of Quality; but look to it Rascal, for I'le trappan thee into Matrimony for it, and then Cuckold thee.

[Page 49]

Say you so, then hang care, I find 'tis impossible to be a Marryed man and no Cuckold, for the Misses who are kept, are more true to their words than the Wives now a days are to their Oaths they make in the Church—

But Mr. Loveall, as I hope to be Alderman, and ride in Scarlet, and have the Blew-coat Boys sing Iordans Poetry before me to the Spittle, I was credibly inform'd she was a Person of Honour.

Yes, of VVhetstones Park, Moseleys Damsels were Nuns to her, and she was so Pockey, that she embrac'd the offer of a French Vallet to go over into France to get Cure.

A person of Honour may get a Clap, or so, who can help it—but is she gone to Paris? that I had known it sooner.

What wou'd that have advantag'd you?

Much, much Sir; for I wou'd have sent a Venture by her for Gloves, Ribbons, and Essences: Those kind ob­liging souls buy three to one Cheaper than your Coy Vir­tuous Women, I know it by experience; the little God­desses of Love have the prettiest Wheadlingst ways, that what I have lost by Selling to them, I have choust the Honest Women of—look you—there goes a Rogue who has at least three times giv'n me the go-by for several pair of Gloves—She has call'd in a Coach to see some, fitted her self, faln into a Laugh, pretended business, and made the Coach-man drive away hastily, sans paying a-gad: But hang't, I always got up my loss by the next Virtuous Custo­mers have come, which is the cause of the Report that I sell dear—but Mr. Loveall, I must live; shou'd I be reason­able to the Honest, I shou'd lose abominably.

A precious Rascal, to make the sober Ladys of the Town maintain the Misses: On my Life, this was some thrifty Gallants invention, to mitigate his expence of Keep­ing.

Upon Rep Sir, my own Invention, to make the Rich Charitable to the Indigent members of Venus-encoun­ters —See, I have a swinging Catalogue of 'em, here, all Debtors, who are to pay trebble for the Commodities they have taken up, when they come to the Preferment of being kept by Lords or Country Cullyes; so that in my own de­fence, [Page 50] I'am forc't now and then to top 'em on some shallow▪ brain'd Lord or Knight, to hedge in my Debts.

Laurence, are the Writings finished?

Yes Sir, they are done, but I having had no war­rant to pay the Fees, the Lawyers wou'd not trust.

What's a Clock?

Almost Twelve Sir—you must make hast, or the Canonical hour will be past; and if the old Man shou'd be in a pet, he may chance to stop your Marriage till to morrow.

Fear it not—for I will not sleep, till it be in Theo­docia's Arms; let us hast to the Temple for the Writings, from thence I'le flye to take possession of the two great bles­sings of the World, Wealth and Beauty.

Scene, the first. The Street before Tom Ess. House.

MY restless soul stung with Theodocia's Falshood, hurries me head-long to a wild despair, yet mighty Love con­trolls my faint Resolves—but spight of Love, and all his mistick trifling, no longer I'le sustain my Injuries—but stay—

This Husband of mine is possest, that's certain, and shou'd I be so too, he'd soon be fashionable, which I am resolv'd to make him, if he continues longer in his Whim­sies.

—Ha! here's the fine Gallant agen, as pat as may be; well Thomas, look to thy Head, for if this Blade proves kind, something to your cost may follow.—

[Page 51]

Marry'd! and broak her Vows! and still enjoys an undisturb'd mind!—she shall not long,—for like her ill-genius, I'le hant her every where with repetitions of her faithless Acts—since thou fair faithless Creature hast rob'd me of a constant Love as thou'st made me, thou sha't be wretched too.

Hem—hem, sweet Sir your Servant—

Oh the disquiets of an Injur'd soul!

How do you do Sir?—good­ness

defend him, I fear he is ill agen— let me see—oh, here it is,—this Spirit they say is excellent good to dispel Va­pours' —Ile try the experiment on him—

What mean you Woman?—

It shall be so, I will revenge my self on all the Sex; first force this Tyrant from my soul, then practising dissembled Love, like her, I'le win 'em to my cursed end, and then expose 'em to eternal shame.

Upon my life some Ill-natur'd Creature has de­ny'd his request, which makes him out of humour; but I'le make amends for the rudeness, and will comply if he has the goodness to ask, let it be what it will, for I find I shall not be able to refuse him any thing—Sir, as I was saying— pray how do you.

Fire and Gun-powder! my Wife and Courtly toge­ther agen! where be these Catch-pole Rogues now, they might kill him with Authority, shou'd he resist—how-ever I'le in, and fetch a Weapon, and by knocking him down, se­cure him till they come to Arrest him.

One word for pitty Sir—my heart beats hea­vily, and I am so concern'd for you, that I Vow I am strange­ly indispos'd—Oh I am sick—

Ha! the Woman faints—

The Spirit, the Spirit Sir, quick, quick— rub my Temples Sir, pray do—what not one kiss—

the Spirit agen, and bob my Nose with it Sir—

Damn her, 'tis Counterfeit—and the whole Sex is [Page 52] a Cheat—thus Theodocia seem'd, when I took leave of her and left the Town—but I no sooner gone, but she resign'd my Interest to another—

Hold me a little harder Sir—squeze me har­der yet Sir; fear not, you cannot hurt me Sir—the Duce take him, he understands me not sure!

Blood must ensue—were he at his Prayers, I'de knock him o'th'head—Cuckold me quotha? a good jest y'saith—but I'le maule his Mazzard, were he as stout as Hector or Goliah—hum—hum,—Valour assist me; Tom, stand to't, and cool his courage in the midst of Courtship— now Sir, after my hearty Commendations—

Curse on my Eyes, what do I see? that hated Fop—

Pox on him, his looks make me tremble like an Aspin-leaf: Friend Thomas, thy disgrace will be insuppor­table; what, Cuckold and Coward too, thy Father was as pretty a spark as e're play'd Tryal of Skill at the Bear-Garden.

Sirrah, retire from my sight instantly, or by Heav'n I shall grow wild.

This is the Kings High-way Sir—

and—the Baggage wont stir, ah Gypsie.

Do you dispute Sirrah?—

I'm gone, I'me gone Sir—'tis a hard case, a man must be forc't to leave his Wife with her Gallant—but I'le be near to hear and see what you do—

Wherein can I be Serviceable Madam—

Cannot you guess Sir? I am young, have an Ill-natur'd Husband, and I Vow you are Sir—but you'le think me a Wagg, shou'd I tell you my mind—

No, no, no, speak, what am I?—

You are Sir—Lord I blush so—pray turn your back Sir—you are—pray Sir do—

Torment!—now Madam speak, you are obey'd—

Upon my Credit Sir, you are the most desirable man I ever saw, and cou'd wish—

Cou'd wish I wou'd do—what?

[Page 53]

Revenge my quarrel on a necessary, but ill na­tur'd Fool, call'd a Husband—

To Cuckold him or so?—

I Vow you are an Ingenious person, and guess admirably well Sir.—

Oh Theodocia, too late I find the falseness of thy Sex.

Nay Friend of mine, thou canst not want a greater Whetstone for thy Valour than her Impudence.

Rogue, are you here agen—

For no harm, no harm I Vow to gad Sir—I only come to pare away the durt my Neighbours have cast at my Door—Sure my Father begot me in an Alarme, for I have fear enough to put a whole Town into Confusion.

My Husband just in the nick—what ill Luck was this.

That Perjur'd Villain here? how I loath the sight of him.

do you tamely stand, and let that Fellow rob you of your Honour?

Troth Mrs. Theo. I cannot help it, for to say truth, I am a very Gyant in thought, but a Dwarfe in action; I understand the Theory of fighting, but the thoughts of blood and wounds have kept me from the practick part, or by this time I had pepper'd him.

So poorly-spirited! you deserve no bet­ter Fate—

False and Inconstant man, are these th'effects of horrid pro­testations, enough, if broak, to damn thy soul.

What means she?

Madam, in vain you Counterfeit a Passion, a second time I will not be deceiv'd; thou'rt faithless grown, and hast betray'd thy Honour to Eternal Infamy—Oh Theo­docia, Reproach me not with Vows, which you, as I thought with as spotless Zeal did eccho to—but now—thy choyce, thy abject choyce declares thy Honour lost, thy former Love Hypocrisie.

[Page 54]

Good Heav'n! he thinks to palliate his wrongs with a pretended Crime I shou'd be guilty of—art thou grown so hardned in thy sin, to prosecute it in the face of Heav'n and all the world, and basely to justifie your injuries to plighted Love, wou'd brand my Honour with Inconstancy.

to Mrs. Essence. Madam, your Charms do so sur­prise my soul, that without the blest enjoyment of your Love, I shall be the wretchedst breathing—as now by Heav'n I am—

Lard Sir, your Complements are strangely ob­liging—

Are they so? Very fine y'faith!—

That my Block-head were out of the way now; well I must, I Vow, that's the short and long on't.

Courtship before my Face I cannot bear—desist, or thy speedy death shall justifie my Passion, and thou sha't fall a Victim to my tormented soul—

Good kind heart, how Zealous she is in my Cause still; well—she's an excellent Friend, and a pretty Crea­ture; and had I been as high-spirited as she, the man had been knockt o'th'head by this—

Do, take my Life, and glory in the act, and by one fatal blow, cancel those Vows you made, and which are lodg'd here in my heart Theodocia, then you may uncon­troul'd, possess your worthy choyce.

What a Medly is this? it madds me that I am so disappointed—

Dont think that this pretended Anger, for I know not what shall excuse the affront you have done me; no, no, a Woman's a Woman, and has a Spleen as well as man, understands points of Honour too; you conceive me—my Husband shou'd be my own—but this lewd Age—yet I'le say no more—

I understand her not—

—yet too true I know that thou art false—

Witness Heav'n, if I am false, you show'd me the way—but to convince you, here take my Life—and by my death I will declare my Innocence.

Innocence!

[Page 55]

Innocence! a good jest y'faith—when you be­come the blot of my Scutcheon, and exalt my Horn above my Neighbours; this is Innocence, is it—but Cudslid I'le not endure it—oh good Sir, I forgive

you, upon Rep I meant no harm; be pleas'd to buy any good Gloves or Rib­bons, Essences for your Periwig—pray walk in Sir—Pox on him—

Oh are you come, that's well; there's your man, do your Office—

Arrested! what means this Riddle?

Riddle Sir? you are like to unfold it as you have my Wifes Riddle, Pox on your Learning for your pains—

What does my Sot design by this? I'le observe, he's such an impertinent Ass, that I am asham'd to own him, for fear this Gallant shou'd have the worse opinion of me for his sake, and disappoint my Expectations—

Rascals, at whose Suit am I Arrested? and for what?

Come, come Sir, I can handle and talk to you too, now you are in the hands of Justice, as they say; you are Ar­rested at my Suit Sir—

At yours Villain, Slave, yours?

Even so Sir, at mine and my Wifes injuries, great injuries you have done me, Rep must be satisfied.

What wrongs have I done thee? hadst thou af­fronted me, thou art a thing wou'd more deserve my pitty than revenge—and for thy Wife—

Dishonouring her, is I suppose a trivial thing, but now you'le find the due reward for Treachery.

Ay, ay, he shall find to his cost, for I can prove three thousand pounds worth of Assault and Battery Sir, you have committed on my Wife.

I injure her! Villain, thou Lyest—

I swear, and so he does, for he has not done me reason yet, as they say; but if he had, it wou'd have been no Trespass, for I Vow he shou'd have had free ingress, egress, and regress to do what he pleas'd—had you not come as you did—

[Page 56]

Cruel Fair, wherein have I done any thing might merrit this ill Usage.

I injure thee! by all that's good, it is as false as thou art to thy former Vows,—oh Theodocia—

Hy day, I talk of my Wife, and he addresses himself to Mrs. Theo—

Were not thy perjuries sufficient—

Leave fiddle faddle Sir, and answer to the point— did you never lye with my Wife, ha? how say you, ha?

I never had so foul a thought towards Theodocia—

Look you there agen now—tell not me of what you thought of Mr. Theo. but of my Wife.

Of Theodocia your Wife, I was talking of.

Theodocia my Wife? ha, ha, he; sure the man is madd.

Is not this Lady your Wife?

A Lady might have been my Wife, if I had been kind, but that time is past.

I am amaz'd! then the Picture I saw in your hand, you had from this Woman?

Ev'n so Sir—this Whirly-gigg is my Spouse.

He tells you true Sir, and it is as true that I am that Fellow's Wife, a base Rascal as he is to suspect my Virtue.

Virtue! Au Lord! and have been Courted by a Batchellour-spark of the Town! that is the common pre­tence of all the Whores, tho they have layen with half the Town—

Sirrah, you think by accusing me, to excuse your own base actions; but I'le not bear it, marry won't I; I brought a good Portion, and will be respected and humour'd, marry will I.

Yes, you shall be respected, but—with a Cud­gel— if you go on Cuckolding me, I'le tell you but so.

What an unexpected change is here?

How have I been wandring in a Labyrinth of Errors since I came to Town, and Theodocia's injur'd Virtue strikes such a terror through my heart, that I am all Confusion— Madam, can you pardon one who basely has suspected Virtue and Innocence—some small excuse I have, though not [Page 57] enough to justifie my wrongs to your fair self; for meeting this Fellow with my Picture which I had given you at my go­ing out of Town, and he affirming he had it from his Wife, and it being reported in the Country that you were Marryed, made me conclude this was your Husband, which made me act deeds I am now asham'd of—

Blest mistake! since it has try'd and prov'd your generous Constancy, and I should rather ask your pardon for having been the Original of your past troubles, tho not wilfully; for Fainting last night at the door, and having your Picture in my hand, I dropt it; but when I came to my self, in vain I lookt, for I cou'd not find it.

At that very time I saw you in my Husbands Arms; and suspecting him for Lewdness, I came with a design to surprize ye together, but ye were too quick, and there I found the Picture.

Au Lord, what will become of me now? the bur­den of all will light on my Shoulders.

Yes, yes Sir, 'tis too true what the Woman says—and here is the Picture.

Woman, you Clownish What-de-lack? no Woman of your making—

Say you so, then it wou'd have been no news if you had Cornuted me—and I fear the mistake has gone too far for my Rep, pray Sir speak comfort to a Jealous mind; did you not revenge the affront I offer'd you, upon my Wife?—the truth good Sir, and I heartily forgive you, for I was justly serv'd for being such a Coxcomb to con­clude what I had not thoroughly examined.

Friend, rest satisfied, I have neither injur'd you or your Wife, but your Jealousie was enough to have made her extravagant; therefore have a care how you provoke a Wo­man hereafter.

Ay Tommy, as this Gentleman says, take heed how you stir up my Granam Eves curiosity in me any more— if you do, I shall be for Forbidden fruit—but I forgive you this time, as you shou'd me, and cease to be Jealous, or I shall be sollicitous for you know what—Madam, I hope you'le pardon my late miscarriage, I Swear I meant no harm, not I, I Vow.

[Page 58]

Sir, upon Rep I am oblig'd to you, and now— my dear, let us embrace and sign peace—me thinks this looks like our Wedding-day—if hereafter I break this League of Amity, I give thee free liberty of Conscience.

Which I shall take, but till then Tommy, give me no cause, and I will be yours, and only yours, till death, Dorothy Essence.

Well said Chuck— Enter a Boy, whispers T. Ess, Sir your Servant; Mrs. Theo. your Slave: Customers are come whom I must wait on—Mrs. Theo. use my Shop, and pray do you too Sir; upon Rep, I'le sell cheaper to you two, than to any I know, for being the instruments of Reconci­liation between my Dolly and I.

Dear Friend, what news hast thou learnt in my absence? does my Father cruelly persist in his design to make me Loveall's Bride.

Madam he does—but what's the meaning of this? Mr. Courtly here? and reconcil'd? by what strange accident were ye made Friends.

Our Stars only try'd our passions by some unlucky in­fluences— but Madam, if you please, we may frustrate your Father's power if you will vouchsafe to make me happy with your fair self.

The Proposal's good, embrace it Madam, and put it instantly in execution; for shou'd either your Father or Mo­ther find you, you'd be in a desperate condition.

Mrs. Theo. if I can serve you, command me, and Sir, you too may add yours to hers, and you shall see how chearfully I will obey.

I am oblig'd to you Mrs. Essence,—and Friend, your proposal corresponds with my wishes,—yet a Father's anger, which will be enflam'd too by a disappointed Step-Mother, may produce a fatal consequence to all my hopes.

Indeed your Mother is impatient for your coming home, and I have promis'd to bring you; but to prevent all danger, I have contriv'd a way to disappoint your Mother, and Mrs. Essence may be Serviceable.

Which I willingly wou'd be, if it be an Intreigue; for I love Intreigues with my heart, and if you please to walk [Page 59] into my house, we'l discourse further of it—pray walk in Madam—Sir, I beseech you—

Ah Madam, this happy hour will make full satisfacti­on for our past misfortunes.

SCENE the Second. Strees before Mon. door.

Now for the rifling of Loves charming spoyles— Laurence, have you the Licence ready?

Yes, yes Sir, here is the warrant of Condemnation— and the Writings from your Lawyer; he Swears he has tyed you neck and heels—look you Sir—dear Parchment, to the tune of Twenty Guynnies.

Mr. Loveall, your Servant; my Master is in great expectation of you Sir, pray make hast to him, for he is so humoursome, that should you be absent any longer, it may endanger you the losing of my Daughter, and me the Honour of having so worthy a person for my Son-in-Law— which I'le prevent, if possible—

I am oblig'd to you Madam, and am glad to see your health so soon restor'd.

Indeed Sir for the present I was Ill, but having taken the Air, and lying out one Night from this close Town—

In the Arms of your kind Friend Stanly.—

My health return'd, and I was loath to put my Master to charges, which made me put off my intended Journey—pray walk in Sir—

your Servant Madam—

Here' s Luce with Theodocia, 'twas well I shifted him off before they came—

thy diligence shall be rewarded; Daughter, no words, but along with me—

Now Stanly, I'le perform my promise—

[Page 60]

So, this was a luckey Conveyance—now to pre­pare for my own affairs—

SCENE the Third. Old Mon, House,

Mr. Loveall! in good time Sir, I'le stand to't, I have a quarrel with you; what, stay till the Canonical hour be past? Absurd, absurd, I begin to suspect you have no Love for my Daughter; if you had, you wou'd have made more hast—

Not I Love fair Theodocia?

As I say, not Love her, or you wou'd have been here sooner; but now Sir I am resolv'd she shall not be Mar­ryed till to morrow; for my opinion is, that all Marriages after the Canonical hour are Unlawful; and consequently the Wo­men are but a kind of Licens'd Whores, which my Daughter shan't be, if I may have my will; I will not bate an Ace of the Canonical hour Sir, I am a Church of England man Sir, I'le stand to't I am.

But under favour Sir, our Church respects not time, but administration; if it be by One in Orders, and according to the Ceremony of the Church, let it be at any time, 'tis good—but Sir, for fear some scrupulous man shou'd refuse, what think you of taking a Coach to Pancras-Church, there it will be done effectually, for that is a place of Priviledge and Liberty to Marry without Lincenses, and at any time—

A place of Priviledge and Liberty? a place of Debauchery, I [...]le stand to't—what an age is this! that our Mother-Church shou'd have Loop-holes as well as the Laws! for those places of Liberty, as you stile 'em, serve only to De­bauch our Children from their obedience; for when they have no mind to Marry the person of their Parents approba­tion, they run away with some indigent smooth-tongu'd Fel­low to your place of Liberty (as you call it) and Marry him for Love forsooth, and commonly take their first tast of man in one of the Bawdy-houses, near that Church, and I'le stand [Page 61] to't; I believe the Beds infect 'em, and make 'em turn Whores, and Cuckold their Husbands, as most do—

Must then my happiness be deferr'd till to mor­row Sir?

Ay, indeed must it Sir, the rather too, because I have not perus'd the Deeds of settlement yet.

Here they are Sir, and the License too.

Very good, very good, let me see 'em.

I have perform'd my promise, your Daughter is within.

Oh Brother—I am oblig [...]d to you— now Mr. Loveall, you have nothing to do, but to prepare to be Marry'd to morrow—pray know this Gentleman, 'tis my Wifes Brother, a notable Wagg, I'le stand to 't—and he disguis'd himself on purpose in Petty-coats, to put a trick upon my Daughter, and cou­sen her into obedience—come, come, I know you are sur­pris'd, and think it is my Wife, he is so like her—em­brace I say, embrace him, I'le stand to 't, you shall—

By Heaven his very Wife▪ for I know no Brothe [...] that she has—however, since she has brought Theodocia home, I'le favour her design, but I cannot imagine what will be the end of it—Sir, I must acknowledge the Obligation you have done me, in bringing fair Theodocia to be my Bride—

But now I have her in my power Old Sir, I am resolv'd not to surrender her till I am assur'd of her Portion.

Thou art the notablest Lad I e're met with, but to satisfie you, I engage before ye all, to pay down on my Daughters Wedding day the Sum of Six Thousand Pounds; besides, it may be, a settlement of my whole Estate upon her and her Heirs for ever.

Done like a Father of so deserving a Daughter.

And I hope you'l say I do deserve your Daughter, when you shall see with what obliging kindness I shall use her—and my Uncle too has made a Settlement of his whole Estate upon me.

And you are resolv'd to give this Portion?

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As I say, I'le stand to't—

Stanly, bring forth your Bride—

See Sir, as to my own particular, I have kept my word; but my Friend here, has both won & Marry'd your Daughter, and now I hope the Portion will be ready—

How! my Daughter Marry'd to that Hector? Brother—

Mistake not Sir, now my business is done, I re­sign that Title, and re-assume that of a dutiful Wife; and to say true, I never had a Brother.

Ha, is this true?—was it you then that wore the Breeches, and made me a Cuckold in my own House? y'are a Harlot, I'le stand to't, and I'le take a course with you, for I'le be Divorst if money and Law can do't; but first I'le can­cel the Settlement I made on thee, of my Estate for Life, but it was with power of Revocation; and next, I'le turn that graceless wretch out of doors—'tis well you have the modesty to hide that shameless Face—

Theodocia Marry'd!

What will become of thee Laurence? for since thy Master has mist of the Mistress, thou art in danger of losing the Maid—

Fret on Sir, yet 'twill not do, for your promise is good, the Portion must be paid, and Divorse when you will, the Prerogative-Court will give me Alimony, and the Chancery Separation money, enough to maintain a Gallant.

An absurd impudent Strumpet, I'le stand to't— but I am well enough serv'd for Marrying when I was past the use of Woman—

Was this the Assignation you made your Gallant, Madam?—

The very same Sir—

Even so will; for when I came, her kindness turn'd to this, and forc'd this Lady into my Armes to Marry, which you may be assur'd I did very unwillingly; but as you say— Persecution is come abroad, and we must suffer patiently—

Villain, thou never shalt enjoy her; thus I'le force a passage to thy soul, and cancel all those Vows y'ave newly made to this Lady—

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Now I have possession Sir, I shall not easily resign my Interest.

Hold, hold, good Gentle-men, Murder not one another for me—

Mrs. Essence!

Nay, then take heart of grace good Laurence, for there's hope agen; what Mrs. Essence!

The Milliner's Wife in Theodocia's Cloaths— then I must rest content, since I am out-witted

Curs'd Stars, am I Cousen'd then?

Huswife, what have ye done with my Daughter? you have her Cloaths—

Be not angry Mr. Monylove, she's gone about a certain Intreigue, and to carry it on, she desired my assistance: Now I, loving harmless witty Intreigues from my heart, readily comply'd, and I was thus disguis'd, and brought by Mrs. Luce to be Marry'd to a person in Mrs. Thodocia's name; and I Vow, me-thinks 'tis a very plea­sant Intriegue.

A Devil on your pleasant Intreigue, I am like to lose a fair Fortune by it; nothing Vexes me now, but that I did not perfect the Marriage, that in revenge, when the Cheat shou'd be discovered, I might have Hang'd thee for having two Husbands—

I Vow Sir, I admir'd at your forbearance, & am glad you did not urge it on me, for I fear I shou'd have yielded, you Embrac'd me so passionately, and Kiss'd me so pleasantly!

There's some hopes left, since she has mist of her design—

Joy, joy to you Stanly, you are the happy man to have a For­tune forc'd into your arms—

Well, I am Jealous agen, what a Devil shou'd my Wife do with Courtly now? something more is in it than I can at present apprehend—and what their business is here, for my blood I cannot guess—

What, what do I see, Mr. Courtly and my Daugh­ter together?

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Who desire your Blessing, which is only wanting to compleat and crown our Joys—

Then she's beyond all hopes, e're to be re­triev'd—

Baggage, out of my sight—

Call my Wife names? that must not be—Neigh­bour forbear Ill-language, or look you, de'fee, the Law shall gagg you—what tho she be somewhat faulty, yet my Wife's my own Sir, and no one shall Correct her but my self— Ha, Mrs. Theo. in my Dolls Pettycoats?—

What ayles the Fellow? shall not I Correct my own Daughter? if you want your Wife Sir, there she is, Marry'd to one of the Town-Hectors, I'le stand to't—

Marry'd! Marry'd! oh insatiable! what, two Hus­bands! is this true? confess and be hang'd, for so thou shalt, if it be prov'd—

In vain are all excuses; go, go, I'le never own you more, and your disobedience will justifie my intention, to give my Estate to Mr. Loveall in satisfaction for the affront you have done him.

First hear what I can say in Vindication of her actions— she cou'd not otherwise have done in Honour, her Vows by your command, being giv'n to her now Husband Mr. Courtly—but grant she had been free, yet Loveall cou'd not have Marry'd without the forfeit of his Honour; to prove the truth of which, read there the Accusation of his in­tended Perjury—

Ha! this is the Widdow—too true, 'tis she, curse on her ill-tim'd presence—had I been sure of Theodocia, I'de have out-fac'd, nay, and out-ly'd the Devil before I'de have resign'd that beauteous Treasure—but now it is too late—

Do you not know me Sir? view me well—not yet know me?—to convince you, I am the person you have en­deavour'd basely to abuse—see here—that Ladys Picture inclos'd

in your Uncles Letter, which by Providence you left hehind you at my house—now did I basely seek Revenge, thy Life is forfeited—but Love in me's more powerful—therefore to salve my Honour, you must—Marry me—if not—

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I am past evading it, nor indeed wou'd I, since I have lost Theodocia,—She's Rich and Handsome—Faith Madam I must plead guilty, I have been a very Villain,— but then consider Widdow, 'twas Love, all powerful Love of your sweet Self made me act so extravagantly; but if now thou prov'st kind-hearted and forgiv'st me, I'le proclaim thy mercy to the world, and Seal it in the next Church we come to—

What's here? a Contract of Marriage between William Lovett and Theodocia Landwell, of Stamford, Wid­dow; what is this to Mr. Loveall, Luce?

Sir, I confess it my hand, and intended for my name, but that my Uncle had provided your Daughter for my Wife—but since that does not succeed, I am resolv'd to ex­ecute what I then design'd only as a Cheat on this Ladys Vir­tue; Widdow, your pardon; Widdow, your pardon.

How! is Luce a Widdow?

Yes Sir, this is the Widdow who formerly I told you relieve'd me and my Man, when we were Rob'd and Stript.

What a turn is this! a Rich Widdow my The's Maid? a good jest I'le stand to't.

Thus disguis'd, I gain'd admittance into this Lady's Service, to prevent my Disgrace, and her Ruin, as it might have prov'd; for, by my contrivance, both yours and your Daughters Honour is unsully'd, seeing she has perform'd her Vows to Mr. Courtly—

The Widdow! what Ill-luck was it that I did not get into my Masters Saddle.

Y'are a Witty pretty, Pretty witty Widdow, I'le stand to't—Mr. Loveall—'twas absurd, absurd in you to do so ill an action—however I'le stand your Friend to your Uncle, and as I say, Marry her, and I'le justifie it—

Mr. Courtly, take my Daughter, and bless ye together, and I hope you'le pardon my intention of Cousening you; I am Old Sir, 'twas for mony, a greater Estate, a greater E­state; and you know we Old men are as amorous on mo­ny as you young Gallants on fair Maids; I'le stand to't, I am Sir, as I say I am.

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My Obedience Sir, for the future, shall shew my For­giveness of your intended wrong, since I have full possession of my Theodocia.

Pshaw, pshaw Sir, your reasoning is vain, do not I know the tricks of the Fashionable Wives, they make nothing of marrying their Gallants now a days, but I'le not allow it; you have m [...]rry'd her Sir, and shall keep her Sir, for I'le have nothing more to say to her; a fair riddance of her say I, and if she goes on marrying at this rate, the Town will be but one great forked head of her own making, upon Rep.

Essence, you must pardon your Wife, for what she did was at our request, and innocently done.

Pardon her? not I, therefore take her to you Sir, or I'le have her hangd Sir, and then I'le have the Five hundred pound Lass, whom I was inform'd had but three.

What she did, was at my desire Mr. Essence—

To gain time for our marriage, and to prevent Mrs. Monyloves discovering us before our Joys were com­pleat.

A Pox upon't, it was too true; you may take your Jessamine butter-pot home, for any use I have made of her.

I'le stand to't Neighbour Essence, she's a witty discreet Woman, and it will be absurd if you do not par­don her.

'Twas only a harmless Intreigue, such as my Neighbour Tattle and I us'd when we went Maskt to the Galleries at the Play-houses, to hear the fine Gentle-men talk None-sence, and Swear, to be thought Witts— and this Gentle-man (if I am not deceiv'd) us'd to be one of 'em.

Say you so? then I'me satisfi'd, since Rep is whole agen—but Doll, provoke me no more to Jealousie; and doest hear, by way of prevention, go no more to the Play-Houses maskt; for there is a scurvey Proverb, and you may be caught at last— Your Pitcher may be crackt with often use—yet I will not bar you of your pleasure, [Page 67] but be contented to go the seldomer, and I'le set you in a Box, as well as our Neighbours Wives; for the Pit and Galleries are become down-right Conventicles of Baw­dery; one cannot hear a Play in 'em, for the Chattering of the fluttering Blades to a Company of Pockey-fac'd Creatures in Vizards, upon Rep—but Doll—