tAAAJuP & J& J& JS. J& -&• ^^?%^ ;&;&?•&. -SM^^ ^t Jg- •& •&• J* >**iS M^ C I B B E R s PLAYS. VOL. II- 58 i¥¥¥^» •XtCj *V*">Xi ■Jv-OC «Xr>/* «X«-v>» ^v-Ok JCrv 1 j Jv"Jn» JC-Cj aX^V j «X^C*«» dv"0v THE LADY s Laft ST A 7" OR, THE WIFE* RESENTMENT. A COME Y. As it is Acted at the QUEENs THEATRE I N T H E HAT-MARKET, By Her M A J E S T Y s Servants. ?• v 'v* V V Is Vol, II. * To the Mod Noble The MARCLUIS of KENT, Lord Chamberlain of Her Majefty's Houfhold, &c. HE utmoft Succefs I ever propos'd from this Play, was, that it might reach the Tafte of a few good Judges, and from thence plead a fort of Title to your Lordfhip's Pro- tection : And, if the moft juft, and candid Criticks are not the greateft Flatterers, I have not fail'd in my Propofal. As for thofe Gentlemen, that thruft themfelves forward upon the Stage, be- fore a crowded Audience, as if they refolv'd to play themfelves, and fave the Actor the Trouble of prefenting them ,- they indeed, as they are above Inftruction, fo they fcorn to be diverted by it, and will as foon allow me a good Voice, as a Genius. I did not intend it fhou'd entertain any, that never come with a Defign to fit out a Play; and therefore, without being much mortified, am content fuch Perfons fhou'd diflike it. If I would have been lefs inftiu&ive, I might eafily have had a louder, tho' not a more valuable Ap- plaufe. But I mall always prefer a fixt, and general Attention be- fore the noify Roars of the Gallery. A Play, without a juft Mo- ral, is a poor and trivial Undertaking ,• and 'tis from the Succels of fuch Pieces, that Mr. Collier was furnifh'd with an Advantageous Pretence of laying his unmerciful Axe to the Root of the Stage. Gaming is a Vice, that has undone more innocent Principles, than any one Folly that's in Fafhion ,• therefore I chofe to cxpofe it to the Fair Sex in its moft hideous Form, by reducing a Woman of Honour to ftand the prefumptuous AddreiTes of a Man, whom neither her Virtue or Inclination wou'd let her have the leaft Tafte to: Now 'tis not impolTible but fome Man of Fortune, who has a hand- fome Lady, and a great deal of Money to throw away, may from this ftartling hint think it worth his while to find his Wife fome b A 2 Ids EPISTLE DEDICATORY. lefs hazardous Diverfion. If that fhould ever happen, my End of writing this Play is anfwer'd; and if it may boaft of any Favours from the Town, I now muft own they are entirely owing to your Lordlhip's- Protection of the Theatre. For, without a Union of the belt Aftors, it muft have been impofftble for it to have receiv'd a tolerable juftice in the Performance. The Stacre has for many Years, till late, groan'd under the grea- teft Difcouragements; which have been very much, if not wholly owino- to the Mifmanagement or Avarice of thofe that have aukward- ly govern'd it. Great Sums have been ventur'd upon empty Pro- jects, and Hopes of immoderate Gains ; and when thofe Hopes have fail'd, the Lofs has been tyrannically deducted out of the A- ctors Sallery. And if your Lordfhip had not redeem'd 'em, they were very near being wholly laid afide, or at leaft, the Ufe of their Labour was to be fwallow'd up, in the pretended Merit of Singing and Dancing. I don ? t offer this as a Reflexion upon Mufick, (for I allow and feel its Charms) but it has been the Misfortune of That, as well as Poetry, to have been too long in the Hands of thofe, whofe Tafte and Fancy are utterly infenfible of their Ufe and Pow- er. And tho' your Lordfhip forefaw, and Experience tells us, that both Diverfions would be better encourag'd under their feparate En- deavours, yet this was a Scheme, that cou'd never be beat into the impenetrable Heads of thofe that might have honeftly paid the La- bourer their Hire, and put the Profits of both into their .own Pockets. Nay, even the Opera, tho' the Town has neither grudg'd it Pay nor Equipage, from either the Wilfulnefs or Ignorance of the fame General, we fee, was not able to take the Field till De- cember. My Lord, there is nothing Difficult to a Body of Enghjh Peo- ple, when they are unanimous, and well commanded: And tho' your Lordfhip's Tendernefs of opprefling is fo very juft, that you have rather ftay'd to convince a Man of your good Intentions to him, than to do him ev'n a Service againft his Will : Yet fince your Lordmip has fo happily begun the Eftablifhment of the feparate Diverfions, we live in Hope, that the fame Juftice and Refblution will ft. 11 peifuade you to go as fuccefsfully through with it. s But EPISTLE DEDICATORY. But while any Man is fufTer'd to confound the Induftry and Ufe of 'em, by acting publickly, in Oppofition to your Lordfhip's equal Intentions, under a falfe and intricate Pretence of not being able to comply with 'em; the Town is likely to be more entertain'd with the private Diffentions, than the publick Performance of either, and the Actors in a perpetual Fear and Neceflity of petitioning your Lordfhip every Seafon for new Relief. To fuccour the Diftrefs'd is the firft Mark of Greatnefs, and your Lordfliip is eminently diftinguifh'd for a Virtue that certainly claims the next place to it. The difinterefted Choice and Manner of your Lordfhip's difpofing Places in your Gift, are Proofs that you always have the Claims of Merit under your firft and tendered Con- federation. And from the Affurance of this Thought, my Lord, the Stage, the Poets, and the Players, lay their Caufe, their Hopes, and utmoft Expectations at Your Lordfhip's Feet for Support and Pro- tection. I am, My Lord, Tour Lordfhtfs mofi Humble, ' and mofi Obedient Servant> Colley Gibber, PRO- PROLOGUE. Since Plays are but the Mirrours of our Lives, And foon, or late Mankind are chain* d to Wives ; Since thofe diffolvelefs Fetters too, mujl be Our greatefi Happinefs, or Mifery ; What Subject ought, in Reafon, more to pleafe ye, Than an Attempt to make thofe Chains fit eafy? Tho' in the Noofe fo many Souls feem curfl, Pray who's in Fault? For when you've faid your worft, Tot i all Did feel its Happinefs at firft. Therefore our Author drew you once the Fife Of Carelefs Hufband, and Enduring Wife, Who by her Patience (tho' much out of Fafhion) Retriev'd, at laft, her Wanderer's Inclination. Tet fome there are, who /I ill arraign the Play, At her tame Temper floock'd, as who Jhould fay The Price, for a dull Husband, was too much to pay. Had he been fir angled fleeping, Who Jhou'd hurt ye? When fo provok'd Revenge had been a Virtue. Well then to do his former Moral Right, Or Jet fuch Meafures in a jairer Light, He gives you nozv a Wife, he's fire's in FaJJjion, Whofe Wrongs ufe modem Means for Reparation. No Fool, that will her Life m Sufferings wafie, But furious, proud, and injblently chajle ; Who more in Honour jealous, than in Love, Refolves Rejentmeut [hall her Wrongs remove : Not to be cheated with his civil Face, But fcorns his Falfhood, and to prove him bafe, Mobb'd up m Hack triumphant doggs him to the Place. The/e modijh Meafures, ive prefume, you'll own, Are oft zvhat Wives of Gallantry have done ; But if their Confluence Jhou'd meet the Curfe Of making a provolld Averfon worfe, t Then Then you his former Moral muft allow, Or own the Satyr juji he Jhews you now. Some other Follies too, our Scenes prefent Some warn the Fair from Gaming, when extravagant. But when undone you fee the dreadful Stake, That hard-prefs'd Virtue is reduced to make ; Think not the Terrors, you behold her in, Are rudely drawn fexpofe what has been feen ; But, as the friendly Mufes tender'' ft way, To let fuch Dangers warn you from the Depth of Play. EPI- >{£!&«£!< »e$3j«S@»tSii & M?~* Dramatis Perfonse. M E N. Lord Wronglove, Mr. /tftftr. Lord George Bnllant, Mr. Cibber. Sir Friendly Moral, Mr. Keene. w O M E N. Lady Wronglove, Mrs. Barry. Lady Gentle, Mrs. Rogers. Mrs. Con que fi, Mrs. 0/<#fr/ Ld Wrong. Ay Child, fit down, Hart [born told me you were not well, fo I had a mind to divert you a little. Such a ridiculous Ad- venture fure Ha! ha! ha! La. Wrong. the Wife's Resentment. 7 La. Wrong. I am as well as I expert to be, tho' peahaps not fo eafie to be diverted. Ld. Wrong. Ha! ha! ha! no matter for that, if I don't divert you —Here take your Dim Child — Ha! ha! ha! La. Wrong. 1 (han't drink any. Ld. Wrong. Hah! ha! ha! Do you know now, that I know what makes you fo out of Humour? Ha! ha! La. Wrong. By my Soul, you've a good AfTurance. \Turmng away. Ld. Wrong. Ha! ha! ha! Do you know too, that I am now in- fulting you with the moil: ridiculous Malice, and yet with all the co- mical Juftice in the World,- Ha! ha! ha! La. Wrong. My Lord, all this is mightily thrown away upon me, I never had any great Genius to Humour,- befides that little I have, you know I have now Reafon to be out of: And to (pare you the vain Trouble of endeavouring to impofe upon me, I muft tell you, that this Ufage is fit only for the common Wretches you converfe with. Ld. Wrong. By my Soul I don't believe the like ever happen'd in all the Accidents of Humane Life! Such an Incredible, iuch a Romantick Complication of Blunders, that, let me perim, if I think Moher's Cocu Imaginare has half fo many Turns in it, as you mail hear Child In the firft Place, the Porter makes a Blunder by miftaking the Place for the Perfon, and enquires for me, inftead of one at my Houfe ; my Blockhead Bnifh here carries it on, and with his own blundering Hand, gives his Miftrefs's Letter to me : No fooner was that Miftake fet to rights, but the Pieces of the Letter fall into your Hands, and (as if Fortune refolv'd the Jeft ihould not be loft) you really fancy'd it came from a Miftrels of mine, and fo by way of Comical Rcfentment, fall out of Humour with your Tea, and (end it to me again. Ha, ha, ha. La. Wrong. This Evafion, my Lord, is the worft Stuff, that ever any fure was made of. Ld. Wrong. [A/itfe.] 'Twon't do, I find, but it's no matter, I'll go on. Ha! ha! and fo upon this, what does me I, but inftead of making you eafie, let's you go on in the Fancy, till I was thorough- ly convine'd your Sufpicion was real, and then comes me about wiih the-* 8 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, the mod unexpected Cataftrophe, and cells you the whole Truth of the matter, Ha, ha, ha. La. Wrong. A very pretty Farce indeed, my Lord, but by the Thinnefs of the Plot, I fee you have not given your felf much trou- ble in the Contrivance. Ld. Wrong. No, upon my Soul, 'twas all fo diredly in Nature, that the leaft Fiction in the World had knockt it all to Pieces. La. Wrong. It's very well, my Lord, I am as much diverted with the Entertainment, I fuppofe, as you expect I ihould be. Ld. Wrong. Ha, ha, why did I not tell you I (hou'd divert you ? La. Wrong. You have indeed, my Lord, to aftoni.hment. Tho' there's one Part of the Defign you left out in the Relation, and that was the Anfwer, that you wrote, (by miftake, 1 fuppofe) to your Man's Miftrefs. Ld. Wrong. O that! — why that was — that was — the — the — the the Anfwer? Ay, ay, the Anfwer was fent after the Porter, becaufe, you know, if he had gone away without it, 'twas Fifty to One the poor Fellow's Miftrefs wou'd not have been reconcil'd to him again this Fortnight But did you obferve, Child, what a coarfe familiar Style the Pufs writes? La. Wrong. Coarfenefs of Style is no Proof that the Pufs might not be Miftrefs to a Man of Quality: And I mull tell you, my Lord, when Men of Quality can find their Account in engaging with Women, whofe higheft Modefty is Impudence, methinks they fhou'd not wonder if Men of their own Principles, whofe Impudence is fo often miftaken for Wit, ihould talk their Wives into the fame Failing. Ld. Wrong. Let me die, Child, if you han't a great deal of good Senfe. (Sipping his Tea.) La. Wrong. 'Tis not the firft time that an affronted Wife has convinc'd the World of her Perfonal Merit, to the fevere Repen- tance of her Hufband. Ld. Wrong. Abundance of good Senfe. Enter Brufh. Btfujh. Lord George, my Lord. hd.Wr&tig. Defire him to walk in Nay you. need not go, Child. 4 La. Wrong. the Wife's Resentment. 17 La. fJrong. I am not in an Humour now for Company There's a Couple of you. [Exit Lady Wronglov*. Ld. JVrong. What Pains this filly Woman takes to weary me, always widening the Breach between us, as if 'twere her Intereft: to € have no Hopes of Accommodation; as iT (he felt no pain in making her own Lire wretched, fo flie cou'd but imbitter mine — Let her go on Here's one that always fweetens it. Enter Lord George. Ah, my Georgy / Kifs. Ld. Geo. And kifs, and kifs again, my Dear By Ganymede there's Nectar on thy Lips. O the pleaiure of a Friend to tell the Joy! O JVronglove ! Such Hopes! Ld. Wrong. Hey-day! What's the matter ? Ld+Geo. Such loft Ideas! Such thrilling Thoughts of a- ching Pleafure! In fhort, I have'too much on't. Ld. JVrong. Thou ftrange Piece of wild Nature! Ld. Geo. Death ! I tell thee Man, I'm above half Seas over. Ld. JVrong. One wou'd rather think half the Seas were over you; for, in my Mind, you don't talk like a Man above Water. Ld. Geo. Prithee forgive me: How is it poffible I {hou'd, when all my Faculties are drown'd in Joy ? Ld. Wrong. Then prithee, my Dear, float about, (hut down the Sluice of your Rapture, before the Nothingnefs of your Words gets over the Banks of your Underilanding. In plain common Senfe lets know the Bufinefs. Ld. Geo. Why the Bufinefs, in one Word its impoflible to tell you. Ld JVrong. •ImpofTible! Will you drink any Tea? Ld. Geo. Tea! Thou fofr, thou fober, fage, and venerable Li- cjuid, thou innocent Pretence for bringing the Wicked of both Sexes together in a Morning ; thou Female Tongue-running, Smile- fmoothing, Heart-opening, Wink-tipping Cordial, to whofe glori- ous Infipidity I owe the happieft Moment of my Life, let me fall proftrate thus, and f-p, f-p, f : p, thus adore thee. [Kneels and Jips the Tea. Ld. Wrong. Come, come, you filly affected Rogue get up, and talk at lead like a Fool to be underilood. Vol. II. C Ld. Geo. i8 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Ld. Geo. Don'c you think there's Pleafure in AfFe&ation, when one's heartily in good Humour. (l^ery affeBedly.) Ld. Wrong. Impertinent Puppy Drink your Tea. , Ld. Geo. O Wronglove / I have been drinking Tea. (Tr an f ported.) Ld. Wrong. With Tome laughing Ladies, 1 prefume, whofe incef- fant Concuffion of Words wou'd not let you put in a Syllable, and Co you are come to eafe yourfelf upon me. Ld. Geo. Then prithee be a Friend, and let me fpeak. Ld. Wron. Not only Blank-Verfe, but Rhime, if you pleafe, in the Name of Nonfenfe go on. Ld. Geo. Swear then. Ld. Wrong. Swear! Ld. Geo. Ay, fwear. Ld. Wrong. Blood ! Ld. Geo. Pihah! Prithee. Ld. Wrong. Nay, pray, Sir, give me leave to play the Fool in my Turn, the moment you /peak to be understood, I'll fecure you a rea- fonable Anfwer. Ld. Geo. Swear then never (to any Mortal) to trull from you, to hint, or fpeak of what I iTiall difcover. Ld. Wrong. Upon Honour. Ld. Geo. Honour! the common Hackney-Oath of Fops, Rakes, and Sharpers j fwear me by fomething dearer, than thy Eyes, than Life or Liberty. Ld. Wrong. Indeed ! Ld. Geo. Swear me by all the tendreft Hopes in Love ; by thy foft Sighs of Pain: proceeding from thy Pleafure - } fwear Ld. Wrong. I do by fomething dearer to me yet — By my fhort Stay after poffeflfion,- by my Chaife after hard Riding; by my Eafie- Chair after Dinner, and by t'other Bottle after the Bill's paid, 1 will be fecret. Ld. Geo. Ay, now be perjur'd if thou dareft — Know then at laft, that Generous Lovely Creature has faid behind my Back, that I am the mod Sober, Good-humour'd, and Agreeably InofTen- five Young Fellow, that ever came into a Civil Family ; to be ihort, fhe has made me a General Invitation to her Houfe, upon which I have the Wi fe's Resentment. 19 have taken Lodgings, that look full into her Back-Clofet-Window and drank Tea with her alone this Morning. Ld. Wrong. Some humble Sinner, whofe only Charm is hcirx* another Man's Midrefs, I'll lay my Life on't. (Afide.) Well, and what did you give her ? Ld. Geo. A Bleeding-Heart, all dudded o'er with Wounds of her Eyes own making. Ld. Wrong. That is, you pull'd out your Watch as you were go- ing away, and ilie took a Fancy to one of the Seals : Tho' by the Device, I prefume, it was only a modern Bauble, fo 'tis probabl you might not have come off much cheaper at Mother Davis's. Ld.Geo. Profanation! To be ferious then at once, I have fo- lid Hopes of my Lady Gentle. Ld. Wrong. Hoh! hoh! O thou vain, thou fenfelefs Fop! Is aU this mighty Rapture then only from a fine Woman's being con monly Civil to thee? The mere innocent Effect of her Good-Hi mour and Breeding. Ld. Geo. Pfnah, tell not me of whence it is born, let it fuffice, I've form'd it into Hope, let your Tame, Civil, Secret-Sighers, fuch as never think the Fair one fure, till they hear the Tag of her Lace click, think it no Caufe for Joy • but I've a Soul, that wakes, that (tarts me up at the lead dawning Cranny of a Hope, and fets my every Faculty on Fire — (he mud — (he mud — (he (hall be won . For fince I have refolv'd to hope, my Fancy double paints her Beau- ties O! (lie's all one Fragrant Field of Charms, to pamper up the Blood of wild Defire. Ld. fVrong. Ah, George / What lufcious Morfels then mud her Hufband take of her ? Ld. Geo. Why didd thou mention him? Death! I can't bear that Thought Can (lie love him? O the Verdant Vales, the Downy Lawns of Fruitful Blifs ! The ever flowing Springs of Cool Refieming Beauty, that happy Dog mud Revel, Range, and Sport in! Ld. Wrong. Nay, the Woman's a Fine Creature, that's certain, it's a thoufand Pities one can't laugh her out of that unfadiionable Folly of liking her Hufband, when here's a Man of undifputed Ho- nour too, that knows the World, that underdands Love and Ruin C 2 to 2 o The Lady's Last Stake: Or, to a Tittle j that would at the lead Tip of a Wink rid her of all her Incumbrances, fet her at the very Top of the Mode, and cjua- lifie her for a feparate Maintenance, in the twinkling of an Hackney- Coach-Window. Ld. Geo. Can you be a moment ferious ? Ld. Wrong. Faith, Sir, if I am not, 'tis only to make you Co. Ld. Geo. You feem to think this Bufinefs impracticable. Ld. Wrong. Why truly for any great Progrefs I fee you have made, I don't think but it is: And if you'll take my Opinion of the Woman, I do think, provided you'll allow there's any fuch Thing in Nature, {he's one of impregnable Virtue: That yon can no more make a Breach in her Honour, than find a Flaw in her Features: Bate but a little of her Over-fondncfs for Play, fhe's the Perfection of a good Wife. Ld. Geo. O your Servant, Sir, you own fhe has a PafTion for Play then. Ld. Wrong. That I can't deny, and what's worfe, I doubt {lie likes it a great deal better than (lie underftands it. I hear fhe has loft coniiderably to the Count of late, Ld. Geo. You mud know then, that the Count is my Ingineer ; he and I have a right underftanding ,• whenever fhe plays we are fure of her Money: Now he has already ftript her of all her Run- ning Cafh, befides eight hundred Pound upon Honour : For payment of which, I made him fend her a downright preiTing Letter, by me this Morning : I obferv'd her a little ftartled when (he read it, and took that opportunity to feme my felf into the Secret, and offer'd my Aflillance ; to be ihort, I addrefs'd my felf with fo tender a Re- gard to her Confufion, that before we parted, I engag'd this Af- ternoon to lend her a Thoufand Pound of her own Money to pay him. Ld. Wrong. I confefs your Battery's rais'd againft the only weak Side of her Virtue. But how are you fure you can work her to pufh her ill Fortune; fhe may give over Play : What will all your Advantages fignifie, if fhe does not lofe to you more than- fhe can pay? Ld. Geo. O, I have an Expedient for that too — look you, in fhort, I won't fpoil my Plot by difcovering i , a few Hours will make the Wife's Resentment. 21. make it ripe for Execution, and then but There is no fear that I Jhoifd tell, The Joys that are nnfpeakable. Ld. Wrong. Ha, ha, and Co you are really in Love to the laft Extremity of Paflion. Ld. Geo. Prithee don't laugh at me. (Affefledly.) Ld. Wrong. Don't you think I have heard you with a great deal of Patience? Ld. Geo. Nay, I know we Puppies in Love are tirefome. Ld. Wrong. And fo you think that all this Extravagance of your Style and Gefture mud have convine'd me, that you really care Six-? pence for this Woman ? Ld. Geo. Wou'd you have me fwear ? Ld. Wrong. Ay come do a little. Ld. Geo. Why then, by all the Sacred Ties of Honour, Friend- fhip, and Refiftlefs Love, had I but Five thoufand Pound in the whole World, and nothing elfe could purchafe her Ld. Wrong. I dare fwear you'd give it every Shilling, that you really cou'd love her, tho 5 it were only to get rid of your Paflion for Mrs. Con que jl. Ld. Geo. Why then, look you Ld. Wrong. You may fwear till you are black in the Face; but you love her, her only, indeed you do: Your Paflion for Lady Gen- tle is affected : Not but I grant you'll purfue it, for when nothing's in view, you're Indefatigable: You are a little uneafie at the fmallnefs of Mrs. Conquejls Fortune, and would fain perfuade your felf you are in love in another Place but hark'c, you'll marry her. And fo if your Chariot's at the Door you mall carry me to White's. Ld. Geo. Why then (except my felf) thou art pofitively the moil impudent Fellow upon the Face of the Earth. [Exeunt. The End of the Firjl M> ACT 22 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, ACT II. SCENE Continues. Lady Wron glove alone. La. Wrong. \"\ T H Y am I thus uneafie? Sure I am unreafona- YY ble in my Temper, I over- rate my felf. For if the Hufband's Violation of his Marriage- Vow is in it felf fo foul an Injury, whence is it that the Law's lb (paring in its Pro- vifion of Redrefs ? And yet 'tis fure an Injury, becaufe juft Nature makes the Pain of bearing it outragious. — O hard Condition! For if even that Pain provokes the Wife to move for Reparation, the World's grofs Cuftom makes her perhaps a J eft to thofe that fhou'd affift her. — — If me offends, the Crime's unpardonable, yet if in- jur'd has no right to Compenfacion, it may be ufual this, but fure 'tis un-natural. Enter Mrs Hart /loom. Mrs. Hart/. Madam, the Porter's come back. La. Wrong. Bring him in. Enter Porter. Well, Friend, how far have you followed 'em ? Port. Why, and it pleafe your Honour, firft they both went in Lord George's Chariot to White 3 *. La. Wrong. How long did they ftay ? Port. Why and it pleafe your Honour, they ftay'd as near as I can guefs, about a very little time. La. IJ'rong. Whither did they go then ? Port. Why then they ftopt a little at the Coach- Maker's at Cha- r'ing-Crofs y and look'd upon a fmall thing there, they call a Booby- Hutch, and did not ftay ; and fo then ftop'd again at the Fruit-Shop in Cove nt-Gar den , and then juft went up to Toms Coffee- Houfe, and then went away to the Toy-Shop at the Temple-Gate, and there they ftay'd I can't tell how long, and pleafe you. La. Wrong. Did they buy any thing? Port. the Wife's Resentment. 23 Port. Yes, a number of things, truly. La. Wrong. Were they moftly for Men's Ufe, or how ? Port. Nay, I don't know,- fuch fort of Trangams as the Gentry ufe : — I remember one was fuch a kind of a fmall Scizzar-Cafe as that by your Honour's fide, my Lord Wronglove bought it. La. Wrong. So! that was not for me I am (lire. [A/lde.] Do you know what he paid fort? Port. Troth, I cant fay I do, — They came away, an't like your Honour, but I did not fee them pay for any thing. And fo af- ter that, Enter Haitftiom. Harf Young Mrs. Notable is come to wait upon your Ladyfliip. La. Wrongs Here, come into the next Room, Friend, I mud employ you farther. Defire her to walk in, I'll wait upon her prefently. [Exit La. Wrong, and Porter. Re- enter Mrs. Hartfhorn with Mifs Notable. Mrs. Hart/. If your Ladyfliip pleafes to walk in, my Lady knows you are here, Madam. — Dear Madam! how extreamly your Lady- lhip's grown within this half Year ? Mifs. Notable. O fie, Mrs. Hartjhorn, you don't think me taller, do you ? Mrs. Hartf. O dear Madam ! to an Infinity! Nay, and fb plump too, fo frefh-look'd, fo round-hipp'd, and full-chewed, That I'm fure, Madam, he! he! If I were a young Gentleman of Qua- lity, Madam, he! he! Your Ladyfliip will pardon my Freedom. — I protcfr. he! he! — [Cmtfymg and fimpering. Mifs Not. I vow, Mrs. Hart/Jjom, you have a great deal of good Humour ,- is not your Lady very fond of you ? Mis Hartf. Truly, Madam, I have no Reafon to complain of my Lady ; but you mull: know, Madam, of late there have been fome Concerns in the Family between my Lord and flie, that I vow, my poor Lady is feldom in Humour with any Body. Mifs Not. I'm mighty forry for that What does my Lord give her any Occafion for Jealouhe, think you? Mrs. Hartf. Occafion cpoth'a! O Lard! Madam But 'tis not fit for me to fpeak. /^ ^X. Mift 24 TIm Lady's Last Stake : Or, Mils Not. [Jfide.] I'm glad to hear this 'Tis poflible her La- dyfhip may be convinc'd that fifteen is as fit an Age for Love, as fix and twenty. — And if her Jealoufy's kindled already, I'll blow it into a Blaze before 1 part with her. Mrs. Hartf Madam, 1 hear my Lady's coming 1 humbly take my leave of your Lady (hip : Your LadyiTiip's molt obedient Servant. {Impertinently cringing. Mils AW. Your Servant, good Mrs. Hart/horn, ir you'll call to fee me, I have a very pretty new Crofs, that would become your Neck extremely — you'll pardon me. Mrs, Hartf. Dear Madam! your Ladyfhip's fo obliging 1 mall take an Opportunity to thank your Ladylhip. [Exit Mrs. Hartf. Enter Lady Wronglove. Mils Not. My dear, dear Lady Wronglove / You'll forgive me ; I always come unfeafonably, but now 'tis pure Friendfhip, and my Concern for you, that brought me. La. Wrong. My dear you know I am always glad to fee you, but you'll excufe me if I am not the Company I wou'd be; I am mightily out of Order of late. 1 hope Sir friendly'* well. Mifs Not. After the old Rate, pad the Pleafures of Life himfelf, and always marling at us that are juft come into 'em. 1 do make fuch Work with him. He reads me every Morning a Ledure a- gainfr. lightnefs, and gadding abroad, as he calls it ; then do I teize him to Death, and threaten him, if he won't let me do what I plea'fe, I'll choofe a new Guardian that will. La. Wrong. Come, don't difobiige him, my dear; for if you'll let me fpeak as a Friend, you have a good natural Town Wit, I own, and a great many pretty Qualities ; but, take my Vvord, your In- tereft and Reputation will find a better Account in trufting 'em under your Unkle's Conuuct than your own. Mils Not.- I don't know that,- for all his tedious felkdenying Couife of Philofophy is only to make me a good old Woman : Juft the Condition of the Mifer's Horfe, when he had taught him to live upon one Oat a Day, the poor Creature dyed. So 1 am to fpend all my Yourh in learning to avoid Pleafures, that Nature won't let me be able to tafte when I'm olef. Which is juft: as much as to fay, Done drink while you are thirfty, becaufe if you wili the Wife's Resentment. 25 will but ftay till you are choak'd, you wont care whether you drink or no/ La. Wrong. \Afide^\ What an improving Age is this? But, my Dear, pray let me talk to you a little feriouily, and I hope it won't be loft upon you ; for you have an Underftanding that's uncommon at your Age. I have obferv'd among all the Unfortunate of cur Sex, more Women have been undone by their Wit, than their Sim- plicity : Wit makes us vain, and when we are Warm in our Opini- on of it, it fometimes hurries us through the very bounds of Pru- dence, Intereft, and Reputation ,• have a care of being fingled by the Men. Women, like Deer, are fafeft in the Herd; me that breaks away from her Acquaintance may be follow'd indeed, but the End of the Chace is very often Fatal. Mifs Not. But pray, Madam I Now with Submiflion, I think your Argument won't hold ,• for a Deer's Bufmefs is to efcape, but a Wo- man's is to be caught, or elfe the World's ftrangely alter'd. La. Wrong. 'Honourably, I grant you. Mifs Not. Honourably ! That is to ftand (till like a poor Dumb Thing, and be tamely mot out of the Herd Now I think a young Creature that fairly trufts to her Heels, and leads you twenty, or thirty couple of brill; young Fellows afcerher Helter Skelter, over Hills, Hedges, Boggs, and Ditches, has ten times a fairer Chance for her Life,- and if (lie is taken at laft, I hold Twenty to one among any People of Taile, they'll fay (he's better Meat by half. La. Wrong. Well faid Child! upon my Word you have a good Heart: Th' addrefs of a Lover ufes to be more Terrible at your Age — You feem to have refolv'd upon not dying a Maid already. Mifs AW. Between you and I, Lady Wronglove y I have been po- fitive in that this Twelvemonth. La. Wrong. Why then, flnce we are upon Secrets, my Dear, I muft tell you the Road you are in is quite out of the Way to be marry'd : Huibands and Lovers are not caught with the fame Bait. Mifs Not. With all my Heart, let me but catch Lovers plenty I'm fatisfled : For if having ones Will is the Pleafure of Life, I'm fure catching a Hufband is catching a Tartar. No, give me dear precious Liberty — Content and a Cottage. La. Wrong. And wou'd not a good Hufband content you ? Vol. II. D Mifs 26 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Mifs Not. And why mud: I expert a better than any of my Neigh- bours ? Do but look into the private Comforts of the Dear, Fond, Honourable Couples about this Town ,• and you'll find there's gene- rally two Beds, two Purfes, two Tables, two Coaches Two ways And fo in mod: of their Pleamres, an unmolcfted Separati- on is the only Chain that keeps 'em together Now pray, Ma- dam, will you give me leave to be free, and aik you one Qudfion ? • La. Wrong. Freely, my Dear. Mifs Not. Then did you yourfelf, never, upon no Occafion, re- pent your being marry'd? La. Wrong. That Queftion's very particular, my Dear. Mifs Not. Perhaps you'll Pardon me, when I give you my Rea- fons for afking ; but if you never did repent it, I am refolv'd I won't be the firfl: that (hews you Occafion to do it. La. Wrong. I don't know, my Dear, that ever I gave any body Reafon to think me uneafie at Home - y but you fpeak, Child, as if . you knew fomething that ought to make me fo. Mifs Not. Then depend upon't, unlefs I were fure you were un- eafie already, I'd as foon be lock'd up as tell you any thing. La. Wrong. Well! fuppofe I am uneafie. Mifs Not. Pardon me— I can't fuppofe it But fuppofe you are not, then I friou'd play a Fool's part, I'm fure to make you fo. La. Wrong. I am fure you know fomething of my Lord, pray tell me. Mifs Not. Since I fee you. are uneafie, and I know you love him but too well j upon Condition you'll think I only do it to help your Cure, I will tell you ; for when a Woman is once fure me has a fubftantial Reafon to hate her Huiband, I ihou'd think the Bufinefs mud be half over. La. Wrong. You make me impatient. Mifs AW. Let me think a little to foften it, as well as I can What great Fools thefe wife over-grown Prudes are to tell the greateft Secret of her Life to a Girl! To own her Hufband falfe, an 1 all her fober Charms neglected — But if (lie knew that young Pill Garlkk were the occafion of it too — Lurd ! how her Blood wou'd rife! What a disfigurable Condition wou'd my poor Head- cloches be in ? \Apde\ Well, Madam, to begin then with the end 4 of the Wife's Resentment. o-j my Story. In one word, my Lord is grofly falfe to you, and to my Knowledge has an Appointment from a Miftrefs this very Afternoon to meet her in an Hackney Coach in the Road to Chelfea. La. Wrokg, All this, my Dear, except their Place of Meeting, I knew before, but how you come to know it I confefs amazes me. Mifs Not. Look you, Madam, all I know is this — While my Lord Wronglove, and Lord George ftay'd at our Houfe, to /peak with my Lady Gentle this Morning, I happen'd to fit in the next Room to 'cm, reading the laft new Play : Where among the reft of their precious Difcourfe, I over-heard my Lord Wronglove tell Lord George y the very Appointment, word for word, as I have now told it to you. La. Wrong. You did not hear her Name ? Mifs Not. No, nor what me was,- only that file's pretty Young: For I remember Lord George ridicul'd his Fancy, and call'd her Green Fruit Little if you pleafe, fays t'other, but Ripe I'll war- rant her: And I had rather gather my Fruit my felf, than have it (like you) through the feveral Hands that bring it to Covent-Gar- den La. Wrong. The brutal Thought! "Mifs Not. When my Lady came down me made 'em ftay Dinner ,- which was no fooner done, but I immediately (lip'd away to tell you of it: For methought I was as much touch'd with the Wrong done to your Ladylbip, as if it had been to my felt. La. Wrong. My Dear, I am extremely oblig'd to you. Mifs Not. I'm fure I meant it well — For to know the worn 1 , is not half fo bad as to miltruft it. La. Wrong. Infinitely oblig'd to you. Mifs Not. Oh! me's delicioufly uneafie. \rffide and pleas V/.] I'll tell you what I wou'd advife your Ladyfiiip to do: Call for your Hood and Scarf, and an Hackney Coach to the Door this Minute — In the mean time I'll flap Home ?gain (for I am fure they are not gone yet j the Tea was but j-uft call'd for when I came away) and the Moment my Lord Wronglove takes his leave, I'll lend you word: Then may you clap on your Maik, drive after him, and in five Mi- nutes I'll lay my Life you catch 'cm together. D i La. Wrong, 28 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, La. Wrong. Why then if you'll do me the Favour to fend me that word, my Dear, I mall have leifure in the mean time, perhaps to improve upon your Advice. Mifs Not. If you'll let one of your People fend my Servant for a Chair, I'll go this Minute. La. Wrong. Here — who's there — [Mrs. Hartfliorn at the Door. Mifs Not. Now I think I (hall be ev'n with his Honour, I'll teach him to tell of Favours before he has 'em at leaft: If I had not dif- cover'd him, in my Confcience he had let Madam difcover me. [Afide. La. Wrong. I wou'd not but have known this for the World. Mifs Not. I am over-joy'd I can ferve your Ladyfhip: You'll ex- cufe my running away. Enter Mrs. Hartfliorn. Mrs. Hart/. Here's a Chair, Madam. Mifs Not. Well, I'll take no leave, for I'll call again by and by to know your Succefs. La. Wrong. My Dear I (hall be extremely glad to fee you ; your Servant. Mifs Not. Your Servant, Servant. [Runs off. La. Wrong. Get me a Hood and Scarf, and a Mafk, and bid one of the Footmen call an Hackney Coach to the Door immediate- ly. [Exit Mrs. Hartfliorn.] What will become of me? Shou'd not I ftrive to hate him ? 1 think I almoft do Is he not contempti- ble? Fogh! What odious thing muft this be, that he converfes with? A Woman without Modefty has fomething fure of Horror in her Nature! What is it then in Men, that overlooks fo foul acoarf- nefs in the Heart, and makes 'em infamoufly fond of Shame and Outfide? I blufli to think on't How Tame muft he fuppofe me, if I bear this Ufage ? I'll let him fee I have a Spirit daring as his own, and as Refentful too : Since he dares be Bafe, I cannot bear but he fhould fee I know him fo. To figh in Seceret o're my Wrongs, and pay his Falfliood the Regards I only owe his Truth, is more than Nature can fubmit to. When once the Nuptial Bond's by him dejlroy'd > The Obligations 0/ the fV't/e are void* [Exeunt. SCENE 1 the Wife's Resentment* 251 SCENE changes to the /W The Mortal's in earned, that's certain And what wicked way he propoies to find his Account with her; I am afraid to think Let me fee, I know there will be deep Play here to Night 1 have a- Thought in my Head, that per- haps may lay a Block in his way to her Not but if there is fiich a thing as impregnable Vertue, I dare fwear my Lady Gentle is Mi- ftrefs of it; but then, on th' other fide he has a confummate AlTu- rance, that's full as unfurmountable. And when the impudent Hopes of a Lover are like his, covcr'd with Modefty, it alters the Cafe ftrangely. No Woman can then be pofitive what will be- come of her. Her not fufpecting his Defign, puts him but in a fairer way of carrying it on. — Ah lud! I don't like it. — He'll $er- E 2 taiiil y 3 6 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, tainly — Well! let him do what he will,, he can't marry her, that's one Comfort, however. [Exit. The End of the Second Act. ACT III SCENE, Lord Wronglove'j Hoafe. Enter Mifs Notable alone. Mifs Not. £• O! this has been a Day of Bufinefs — I think now f i^ am pretty even with his Lordfhip; and if I cou'd but draw in Lord George to be his Rival now, I fhould touch the very tip of Happinefs For then to have the Noife of thefe two Lovers draw two or three fcore more after me, which it certainly wou'd : For when once a Woman's the Fafhion, every Body follows her,- Hie fills like a Mufick-Subfcription, tho' there's nothing in't, no body will be ouron't And then to have the full Pleafure of mortifying Mrs. Conquefl too, that's always holding her Nofe over me, as if I was not fit to be out of my Bib and Apron. If I don't make as good a Rout in the Town as (he 'tis very hard Sure! I'll forbid 'em all to toaft her, that's pofitive ! Enter Lord George. ~L6:Geo. [Afide.] Here (he is, faith, and alone; now, if I can but flatter her into my Party, my Bufinefs is half over So! my little Venus / Mifs Not. Blefs me This is-lucky — — I vow, my Lord, you fiightned me. Ld. Geo. Well, and what makes your pretty Ladylhip here, now none of the Family's at home ? MifsA'W. O! my Lady will be at home prefently ! but pray how came your Lordfhip here then ? Ld. Geo. Why, my Life, I chanc'd to be driving by, and per- haps faw you go in. [Takes her by the Hand* Mifs-iV^. Well, and what then? Ld. Geo*. the Wife's Resentment. 37 Ld. Geo. Why then, upon Inquiry, I found you were here alone, and that made me come in My dear Mifs! how charming you look to Day ! MifsM*. Pthaw! Ld. Geo. What's the Matter, my Soul? Mifs Not. To tell me I look charming, and then call one Mifs. Ld. Geo. O! I alk a thoufand Pardons. Mifs Not. No dear Lord Georgy, never call 1 me Mifs again, you don't call Mrs. Conquefi fo ; and tho' flic's bigger, and more out of Shape, you know, than I, I'm fure I'm as much a Woman in my Heart, as (he; nay, and in my Paffions too : For I could kill any Woman that would rob me of a Lover, and dye for the dear Man that wou'd not be won from me. Ld. Geo. O the pretty Tendernefs ! But, my Dear, take heed how you look upon me, for I am fam'd for Affurance ,• and if once encourag'd, i'gad my Hope fets no Bounds to its Impudence, but falls downright to refolving, and cocks its Hat to the Fair ones Face, tho' in the very Fury of her Vei tue. Mifs Not. I fancy now you're as gentle as the reft of your Bro- ther Beaux, whole greateft AfTurance is only in bragging of more than you have. Ld. Geo. Nay, if you doubt my Venues, Child, I'll give ycu a Tafte of 'em, my Dear. U^'(F ei ^° er * Mifs Not. Hold ! hold ! O lud ! The Duce take you for me. Ld. Geo. Death! what a pouting Lip the Rogue has ! I gad. I think my Friend Wronglove's in the right on't fure. Mifs Not. Befides do you think this bullying is any Proof of your Courage ? [/iffetlttJly grave, Ld. Geo. Why then, my Dear, to prevent all Miftakes for the future, I now give you fair Warning If you have a Mind I fhou'd not like you, don't flatter me any more; for I teli you, I'm a down- right believing Puppy, and upon the lead hint of a Hop?, can no more forbear proceeding Mifs Not. Look you, my Lord, all this is but Stuff, for, upon my Word, you'll find it no eafie Matter to flatter me : I know well enough how you're difpos'd of. 4 Ld. Geo. 38 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Ld. Geo. Why then, by all the Pains, Pangs, and Torments — In fliort, I'm a Fool ; I won't fpeak a Word more to you. Mils Not. Fie! fie! you had better give yourfelf thefe Airs to Mrs. Conqueji. Ld. Geo. I don't know but I had, Madam, for I fuppofe you'll tell my Lord Wronglove of it. Mifs Not. Ah! poor Soul! if Mrs. Conqueji lik'd you no better than I do my Lord IVronglove, you'd think yourfelf a miferable Creature. Ld. Geo. If Mrs. Conqueji lik'd me but half fo well, as I like you, I'm fure {he'd be a miferable Creature. Mifs Not. Umh ! How can you defign upon me fo ? Ld. Geo. How can you think to impofe upon me fo? Mifs Not. My Lord, I fhall take it very ill, if you tell me of my Lord Wronglove. Ld. Geo. Then perhaps, Madam, I fhall'nt take it well to be told of Mrs. Conqueji. Mifs Not. My Lord Wronglove ! Ld. Geo. Mrs. Conqueji ! Mifs Not. I'd have you know, my Lord, of all Mankind, he's the fartheft from my Thoughts. Ld. Geo. And I'd have you know, Madam, of all Womankind Mrs. Conquers as far out of mine. Mifs AW. Lard! the AfTurance of fome Men! Ld. Geo. Look you, Madam, in (hort, I can prove what I fay; and I hold ten Pound of Tea to a Pinch of Snuff, you won't let me prove it : Come, and I'll take the fame Bert of you, that you don't prove what you faid to me of my Lord Wronglove. Mifs Not. Come, it's done ! Ld. Geo. Done ! Mifs Not. Done, for both ! Ld. Geo. Done! Mifs Not. Why then, to prove that I am innocent of the lead Inclination for him, I own he has teiz'd me thefe two Months, and becaufe I was refolv'd to give him his Anfwer and his Punifhmenc at the fame time, I this very Afternoon made him an Appointment, then went immediately and told my Lady Wronglove he was to meet 4 a Miftrefs the Wife's Resentment. 39 a Miftrefs at fuch an Hour, to my Knowledge, and fo fent her in a Fury after him to catch 'em together. Ld. Geo. But how cou'd you efcape yourfelf, all this while? Mifs Not. O! I did not tell her it was I: For as Toon as I had blown up her Jealoufie, I whip'd into a Hackney-Coach, and got to my Lord before her, where I jull popp'd out my Head to him, and told him, in a pretended Fright, my Lady had dogg'd him, and I durfl not ftay, then drove away as fafl as I cou'd, and e'en left her to makeup Accounts with him. Ld. Geo. Why then, my Life, I do pronounce, that the flouted Wife of 'em all, with the Spirit of Revenge in her, could not have better buftled through this Bufinefs than you have. Mils Not. And to let you fee, Sir, that I never do deiign him any Favour, I give you leave to tell him, that I fent my Lady af- ter him : Which, if he does,. Fm fare my 'Lox&Wronglove mud fufpect an Intimacy between us. [/Ifide.] Nay, and if you'll but ftay a Moment, you'll have an Opportunity, for I know he'll be at home prefently. Ld. Geo. Then you are but juft come from him ? Mifs No t. The Minute you faw me come in. And now, Sir, if you can but give me half as good a Proof, that your Heart is Innocent of Mrs. Conqueft. Why 'tis poflible (when you have been about /even Years in the fame Mind) I may then begin to think whether I mall confider of it or no. Ld. Geo. A notable Encouragement truly ! But to let you fee, Madam, -I can't bear the Scandal of a Paflion I'm not guilty of, as the laft Proof of my Innocence, if either (lie doubts of my Indiffe- rence, or you of my Inclination, I am content to own both before both your Faces. Mifs AW. And fo afterwards deny both, behind both our Backs. Indeed you muft think again, that won't 60. An old Bite. Ld. Geo. Come, I'll do more — I'll pretend to truft you with my Paflion for a third Perfon, and give you leave in the tendered Touches Art or Woman's Wit can paint it, to tell it that third Per- fon, while Mrs. Conquefi is by. MifsAfo. Umh! This has a Face, Ld. Geo, 40 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Ld. Geo. Nay, with a Mafk upon't too ; for while I am con- vincing you, I dont care a Button for her, I impofe upon a third Perfon purely to make a Secret of my Paflion for you. Mifs Not. Better ftill But, when I have a mind to pull off the Mafk, you fhan't refufe to {how your Face ; for I don't care a Man fhou'd be afham'd of his Pafiion neither. Ld. Geo. As you pleafe, for that. Mifs Not. I begin to like this ftrangely This will teize Mrs. Conqueft to Death But now the Difficulty is to find out this third Perfon It mud be one I'm acquainted with What think you of my Lady Wronglove ? Ld. Geo. Umh! No, I don't care to affront the Wife of my friend. Mifs Not. Ah! Do you think any of the fober Souls about Town are ever angry in their Hearts to hear a Man likes 'em. Ld Geo. That's true, 'tis poffible her Refentment might let a Man die in his Bed after it — But 'tis not worth ones while to quarrel with him, about a Woman I don't like. Mifs Not. Nay, I wou'd not run you into any Hazard— — un- iefs 'twere upon my own Account — -And now I think on't, I'll re- ferve that Quarrel for my felf. \_Afide. Ld. Geo. Come! I have found one — the propereft Perfon in the World is my Lady Gentle — you know you are all in a Houfe toge- ther ; her Hufband, Sir William's in the Country, I have no Acquain- tance with him ,• and if I lofe hers by it, I don't care Sixpence. Mifs Not. I like your Choice very well — but I doubt it will re- quire fome Art to manage her; for to fay the Truth, the Woman is mofl fantaftically Simple : The very word Love out of any Mouth but her Hufbands will make her Start, as if a Gun went off. Ld. Geo. Therefore, my Dear, it mud be done as if you did not doit: You mud go to her in all the diforder in the World, as if I had had the Impudence to endeavour to bribe you into my Af- ililance. Mifs Not. Right ! or I'll go firft and quarrel with my Uncle till he makes me Cry, and then come in with my Eyes fwell'd, and fob- bing as if I was almoft choak'd with the Affront you had offer'd me. the Wife's Resentment. 4.1 me, and then call you a thoufand Villains for daring to propofe fuch an impudent thing to me. Ld. Geo. Admirable! I gad, the Child's a Bars length in Expe- rience above the ftouteft: of her Sex — Hark! I here a Coach flop! Mi Cs Not. Pfhah! Duce take him, its certainly my Lord! how mall we do ? Ld. Geo. Why, if you'll give me leave, my Life I'll call at your Houfe in an Hour, and there we'll fettle every Point to a Tittle. Mifs Not. With all my Heart, I won't ftay for my Lady ! I'll go Home now : But here comes my Lord, you (hall fee firft, how I'll ufe him. Ld. Geo. Don't trouble your felf my Life, it will only give him a Jealoufie, and do us no Service. Mifs Not. Indeed! methinks if I am not afraid of his Jealoufie, you need not. Ld. Geo. My Soul ! I aik ten thoufand Pardons for my Stupidity. Enter Lord Wronglove and flops Mifs Notable, who feems to talk gravely with htm. Ld. Geo. I gad, I can hardly believe my Senfes ,• if this Girl's Character were in a Play, People that had not feen it wou'd fwear the notablenefs of her Head were above Nature. Ld. Wrong. [To Mifs Not.] Did my Lord George tell you I told him you were to meet me ? Mifs Not That's no matter, it's fufficient I know you told him : But I thought at lead you had feen enough of the World to know, that a Confident was the fafeft Difguife for a Rival. Ld. Wrong. I am forry your Ladyfhip has fuch an Opinion of me. Mifs Not. Indeed, Sir, I mall not reproach you, I have fatif- fied my felf in ferving you, as you deferve for it There's one can tell you how too, and fo your Servant My Lord, you'll re- member. [To Lord Geo.] [Exit Mifs. Ld. Wrong. Ha! ha! ha! Why, how now Friend! What are you my Rival? Ld. Geo. Ha! ha! ha! Why, Faith I am very near being one of 'em ; for I believe the Child will think (lie has hard luck, if the whole Town is not fo in a Fortnight. Vol. II. F Ld. Wrong. 42 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Ld. Wrong. But prithee how came fhe to know I ever made you a Confidence of my Affair with her ? I am afraid you have been thoughtlefs. Ld. Geo. No, by all that's Honeft — But fhe has told me more than you cou'd tell me. Ld. Wrong. What? Ld. Geo. That (he her felf told my Lady Wronglove of your Ap- pointment with her this Afternoon, and (as I fuppofe you have fince found) fent her in a Hackney Coach after you. Ld. Wrong. The Devil! Ld. Geo. Nay, 'twas a home pudi Faith! Ld. Wrong. Home! quotha! i'gad it's time for me to knock off, I {hall never come up with her : But what cou'd (he propofe by tel- ling you of it? Ld.Geo. Why, a frefh Lover I fuppofe She found me a little Tardy here in addrefling her, and imagining my fmall Virtue might proceed from a Regard to you: To convince me of her In- difference to you, ihe very fairly told me how (he had ferv'd you, to open an eafier PalTage in my Confcience for my Paffion to her. Ld. Wrong. Sir, I give you Joy. Ld. Geo. And Faith, Sir, I expect it, though not as you do from the green Youth of her Perfon, but the plump Maturity of her Un- derstanding— in helping me to another. Ld. Wrong. Riddles! Ld. Geo. To be fhort • I think I hav« bit the Babe - y for in re- turn, to convince her of my Indifference to Mrs. Conquefr, I have impos'd upon her to difcover my real Paflion to Lady Gent/e, be- fore Mrs. Conquers Face : And this, Sir, with your leave, is upon Honour all the Ufe I defign to make of her. Ld. Wrong. Faith ! 'tis a glorious one — All Match'tavel was Boys play to it Look you, Sir, if you have a Fancy to the fmall re- mainder of her Compofition — Pray be free Ld. Geo. Dear Sir! not fo much as the fcjueeze of her little Fin- ger: But I thought I might make bold with her Virtue, and not rob your Gottft of a Morfcl. Ld. Wrong. Not a ftep farther Faith — I fhall ev'n turn about my Nag and go Home, a little humble Hare hunting, by way of taking the the Wife's Resentment. 4.3 the Air, I can make a Shift to come up to; but to fcampcr Neck, or nothing, after a mad galloping Jade of a Hind, that will run you ftrait an end out of a Country, requires a little more Mettle than i am Mafler of. Ld. Geo. Come, come! you are Sportfman enough to know, that as Pride firft humbles a Coquet into the loofeit Encouragements to gain a Man, Co the fame Pride very often piques her into the granting the laft Favour, rather than lofe him. Ld. Wrong. I. am forry I have made this rout about it. I ex- pect to have my Wife fhock me too. Ld. Geo. O! pray, how did you come off ? Did my Lady fee you in the Coach ? ♦ Ld. Wrong. I am not fure, Faith, but whether fhe did or not, {lie fhan't convince me fhe did? Ld. Geo, Where did you leave her. Ld. Wrong. Why as loon as the Child told me from her Coach, that my Wife was in another behind me, I advis'd her to go off, then whipt up my wooden GlafTes, and flood crofs the Road, to prevent the Nymph's being follow'd, when Ihe was out of fight, I order'd the Fellow to drive to Town as fail as Black and Bay cou'd lay Legs to the Ground > and having the Fortune of better Horfes, I juft got time enough to flop, and give a Fellow a Guinea to cut the Braces of the Coach that came after me, which while I drove gently on, I faw him do, fo e'en came away, and left her Ladyfhip fairly overfet in the middle of a fwinging Shower, at Hyde-Park- Corner. Ld. Geo. How will fhe get Home ? Ld. Wrong. Umh! She will have Wit enough in her Paflion, I prefume to fend for another Coach, or, if not it will be a very pretty cool Walk over the Park for her. Ld. Geo. What an unfortunate Creature is a Jealous Wife? Brum Wh'tfpers Lord Wronglove, and Exit. Ld. Wrong. My Wife's come Home : Now if you have a Curi- ofity, you fhall fee how I'll manage her. Ld. Geo. Pray, Sir, don't let me be Witnefs of your Conjugal Douceurs j but, if you pleafe, I'll flep into the next Room a little, F 2 for 44- The "Lady's Last Stake: Or, for I have two or three Words to write : I muft appoint the Count to meet me at my Lady Gentle's after the Play. Lch Wrong. Do fo then Take this Key, you'll find Paper in the Burreau. Ld.Geo. Quick, quick, I hear her Bon Voyage. [Exit Lord George. J Exter Lady Wronglove, as from the Street, in a Hood and Scarf, and her Petticoat pinrfd up. La. Wrong. So Sir, you are come home I fee. Ld. Wrong. Yes, Madam, and you have been abroad I fee, will you never give over making your felf ridiculous to the very Ser- vants? Was this a*Drefs to go out in, or a Condition for a Wo- man of your Quality to walk home in? Death! What muft People take you for? For ftiame! La. Wrong. My Lord, when a Hufband grows monflrous, a Wife may well become ridiculous. Ld. Wrong. Look you, Madam, while your Jealoufie keeps with- in Bounds I (hall take little notice of it : But when its idle Extrava- gances break in upon my Reputation, I mail refent it as I ought: You may think me an ill Hufband, if you pleafe, but I won't have the World think fo, till I give 'em occafion. La. Wrong. Infolent! Ld. Wrong. I thought I had told you in the Morning of a foo- Hfh Letter, that was brought by Miftake to me inftead of my Ser- vant: Your not taking my Word, methinks was not over Civil, Madam; and your fince Dogging my Servant, inftead of me, to the very Place of Appointment, was extremely obliging ,• the Fellow has confefs'd to me, fince he came home, that in his Fear to be feen, he got your Coach overthrown in the middle of the High- way, while you ridiculoufly purfued him : A mighty reputable Fi- gure you muft make, while you were getting out of it no doubt! La. Wrong. Come, come, my Lord, I have not loft my Senfes yet -I foilovv'd you, and faw you in the Coach, when the con- fident Creature reach'd out to you from another, to tell you, I fup- pofe, that I was juft behind you. You may wrong me, but you can never blind me. (In a fcornfnl Smile. J * Ld. Wrong, the Wife's Resentment. 45 Ld. Wrong, Look you, Madam, that manner in fpeaking (hews too much Tranfport, and — Colour does not become your Face La. Wrong. (Taking him tip fhort.) Some People think it does now: All Men are not of your Opinion, my Lord, my Comple- xion may not pleafe you perhaps; but I have known many a Lover find an Appetite only from a Hufband's lofing it. Ld. Wrong. I won't fuppofe, Madam, you'll fuffer any Man to like you more than he ought to do. La. Wrong. O Sir! don't you depend more upon my Difcretion, than your own — We Wives, as well as our Hufbands, love to have fome idle Body or other to flatter us into Humour, when the Time hangs upon our Hands. Ld. Wrong. You are pleafant, Madam. La. Wrong. Marriage wou'd be an unfortunate Frolick indeed, if a Woman's Happinefs were to die with her Hufband's Inclination. Ld. Wrong. Waggifh, I proteft. La. Wrong. O there's nothing like a modifh Hufband to refine the unbred Vertue of a Wife into all the pretty Liberties in Fafhion. Ld. Wrong. Good Company, or let me die. La. Wrong. I knew the Day when my Lady Honey-Moon wou'd have blufht almoff. into Tears at the Alarm of a bare civil thing from any Man but her Hufband ; but from the well-bred Example of his Confcience, fhe has now mod undauntedly got the better of her own, and ftands buff at the Head of the Mode, without the lead Tincture of Vertue to put her out of Countenance. Ld. Wrong. Why now, my Dear — this is fbmething, if you'd but always treat me with this good Humour, you and I fhou'd never difpute as long as we live. La. Wrong. Monfter! Ld. Wrong. For you know I have often told you, that if ever I fhou'd be weak enough to wrong you, a gentle Complaint, and good Words wou'd work me to any thing,- when the Pride of an infolent Reproach wou'd be but adding Fuel to my Folly, and make it flame the higher : But now I fee that you are convine'd that your Sufpicions were groundlefs, and that you are fenfible, if they had not that, Defiance is utterly the wrong Way to reform me: You 5 iball 4<£ The Lady's Last Stake: Or, {hall find that all this Tendernefs and Temper that you now treat me with, mall n't be thrown away upon me. La. Wt ~ong. Infolent! Provoking Devil! Ld. Wrong. I am glad we are Friends with all my Heart, I am, upon my Soul, my Dear. "La. Wrong. Villain! Ld. Wrong. O my Dear! I had like to have forgot one thing, ;ind fince we are now come to a Right Underftanding, I'll tell you. if ever you and I mould happen to difagree, I beg of you, for your own fake, never give me any hard Language ; becaufe there is no being certain, but in one of my brutal Fits, I may let you cry your felf half blind for it, before I forgive you. La. Wrong. Forgive me ! I have a Soul as much above the fear of you, as are your Injuries below my fcorn — I laugh at both. Ld. Wrong. Ay but, my Life, I wou'd not have you truft me, for if ever you fhou'd accufe me wrongfully, I know my foolim Temper fo well, that, in my Confcience, in pure Spite, I believe — "I believe I believe I fhou'd keep a Whore. La. Wrong. My Lord, this Affectation won't redrefs my Injuries, and however you deceive your felf, in your unqueftion'd Power of doing wrong, you'll find there is a Force of Juftice yet above your Strength, a Curb of Law to check abandon'd Principles,- nor am I yet fo poor in Interefl: or Friends, jealous of my Wrongs, as of their own, but I may find a Time and place to make your proud Heart humble for this Ufage. Ld. Wrong. Death ! and Hell! dare to infult me with fuch ano- ther Thought, thefe Walls mall mark your Bounds of liberty: This difmal Houfe becomes your Prifon, debarr'd of Light, of Con- verfe, or Relief, you live immured for Life : And, let me fee that Big-mouth'd Friend, or Interefl: then, that can unlock a Hufband's Power to keep you When my Wife talks warmly to me, ilie {hall afk my leave -firft. La. Wrong. Never Such leave as you took to give me Caufe for't, I take to tell you of it. Ld. Wrong. We are not upon an equal Foot : I won't have you fo familiar in your Accufations : Be warn'd, and ftir me not to ufe the Wife' 's Resentment. 4.7 ufe my Power : You may fooner make me an ill Huiband than a tame one. La. Wrong. So may you me a Wife, my Lord : And what is't binds me more to bear an Injury, than you ? I have feen you laugh at Paflive Obedience between a Prince and People, and in the Senfe of Nature, I can't fee why 'tis not as ridiculous from a Wife to an in- jurious Huiband ? Ld. Wrong. Their Hazard is at lead unequal : A People may be freed by ftruggling ; but when a fetter'd Wife prefumes, th' infulted Hulband's fare to make her Chain the (liorter. La. Wrong. Her Mind, at leaft, is more at liberty ,- the Eafe of giving Shame for Pain, (lands yet in fome degree of pleafure: The Wretch that's bafely kill'd, falls better fatisfied to fee his Murthe- rer bleed. Ld. Wrong. Nay, now I crave your Mercy, Madam, I find I have miftook your Grievance all this while — it feems then, to be re- fus'd the pleafure of reproaching, is what you can't bear — and when you are wrong'd, to lock up your Tongue is the greatefl Cru- elty your Tyrant can impofe upon you if that be the Hardship, pray be eafie, when you pleafe in the Name of Thunder go on, fpare no Invect-ives, but open the Spout of your Eloquence, and fee with what a calm connubial Refignation, I will both hear and bow me to the Chaftifement. La. Wrong. Poor helplefs Affectation ! This Shew of Temper is as much diffembled as your Innocence 1 know, in Ipite of all your hardned Thoughts, to hear your Guilt confronted thus, mult gall your Soul : Patients don't ufe to fmile while their frefh Wounds are prob'd, nor Criminals to laugh under the fmart of Juftice. Ld. Wrong. My Life, you begin extremely well, and with abun- dance of Fire, only give me leave to obferve one thing to you, that as you draw towards an End, don't forget the principal thing you were going to fay. La. Wrong. How poor! How low! How wretched is a guilty Mind, that ftands without a Blufh the Shock of Accufation Ld. Wrong. Hold, Madam, don't miftake me neither ; for I al- low you to accufe me of nothing, but of what we fine Gentlemen think is next to nothing a little Whoredom. 8 La. Wrong, 48 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, La. Wrong. Audacious ! Horrid Wretch ! and dare you own the Fad. Ld. Wrong. Own it: No, no, if I were guilty I wou'd not do that, but I give you leave to fuppofe me 10, becaufe, by what you fay, I fancy it wou'd eafe your Heart to reproach me, tho' rae- thinks it's very hard, that Demonstration won't convince you of my Innocence, "Li. Wrong. Demonstration! Ld. Wrong. Demonstration ! Ay, Demonstration: For if I were guilty, pray who cou'd better know it than my felf, and have not I told you with my own Mouth 'tis no fuch thing : Pray what De- monstration can be plainer? La. Wrong. I find you are refolv'd to Hand it to the laft; but fince I know your Guilt, I owe my felf the JuStice to refent it. When the weak Wife tranfgreffes, the HuSband's Blood has leave to boil ■ his Fury's juStified by Honour - } the Wrong admits* no meafure of amends ; his Reputation bleeds, and only Blood can Stanch it. And I muft tell you, Sir, that in the Scales of Confcience, the Huf- band's Falfliood is an equal Injury, and equal too, you'll find the Wife's Refentment : Henceforth be fure you're private in your Shame • for if I trace you to another Proof, expe£t as little Mercy for the Wretch you doat on, as you your felf wou'd mew to the fe- lonious Lover. 'My. Wrongs through her Jhall Jhoot you to the Soul, Tou /hall not find I am an injured Fool. [Exit. Ld. Wrong. Well faid I gad, if (he cou'd but love with half the Fire (he can hate, I wou'd not defire to pafs my time in better Com- pany — Not but between me, and my felf, our Dear Conforts, have fomething a hard time on't: We are a little apt to take more Liberty than we give — But People in Power don't care to part with it, whe- ther it be lawful or no,- to bear her Infolence is pofitively intolera^ ble — What Shall I do with her — I know no way of making an ho- nourable Peace, better than Sword in Hand — Ev'n let her Pride fwell till it burits, and then 'tis poflible fhe may come to Reafon. Enter a Servant. Serv. I To 'e's Six Friendly Moral } my Lord. Ld. Wrong. the Wi fe's ResentmEiNt, 49 Ld. Wrong. Defire him to walk in— I hold fifty Pound the old Gentleman comes to fchooi me about his young Kinfwoman j if he does, I know he'll do it handfomely : For give him his due, with all his feverity of Principles, he is as good humour'd, and as well bred, as if he had no Principles at all. Enter a Servant with Sir Friendly. Sir Fr. My Lord, I am your mod humble Servant. Ld. Wrong. Sir Friendly/ this is kind indeed ! Chairs there Well! how goes the Gout Sir? Sir Fr. In troth very untowardly ,• for I can hardly walk with it — Will your Lordfhip give me leave? Ld. Wrong. To ftand upon any thing but Ceremony. Enter Lord George from the Inner Room. Ld. Geo. Nuncle, I am glad to fee you. Sir Fr. Hah! Monfieur Brilliant, and in a fober Vifit after Sun-fet! Ld. Geo. O dear Sir, I'm grown a Fellow of the molt retir'd Converfation in the World. Sir Fr. Your Reformation is not of a very long Date, I'm afraid ; for if I don't miftake, I faw you but Yefterday at the Thatch'd- houfe with a Napkin upon your Head, at the Window in very hope- lefs Company. Ld. Geo. How! how Nuncle! two Men of Title, and a foreign Count, hopelefs Company! Sir Fr. Molt deplorable ! Your Count's a Counter, and only paf- fes for what he is in his own Country,- your Men of Title indeed are no Counterfeits, every Body fees into their Worth, Sir Bubble Squander, and my Lord Lawlefs : But the Sparks I obferv'd you with, were Donefirfi the Jockey, and Touchum the Gamefter- as infamous a Fellow as ever broke the Head of a Box-keeper. Ld. Geo. Pmah ! People that Play keep all Company : But to let you fee I had my Account in it, I had a mind to bite Sir Bubble in a Horfe Match, and fo took thefe two Fellows with me, to let him into the Secret. Sir Fr. A fine Inftance of our Modifh Morals indeed ! To make ones Confcience a Bawd, to the dishonour of biting a Wretch or perhaps an hundred Pound! What a Shame it is the World fhou'd Vol. II. G not 50 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, not call it by its true name Cheating, that Men of Honour might not be guilty of it. Ld. Geo. O, Sir, the name I grant you wou'd ftrangely alter the Cafe -j but People of Rank, and Power, Nuncle, are wifer, and Nick-name one another's Infirmities. — Therefore 'tis your little Cheat you fee, that's fent to Newgate ,• your great one's only turn'd out of his Place. Sir Fr. Nay, 'tis a comfortable World indeed, for Knaves, Fools, Fops, Cowards, and Sharpers. Ld. Geo. Right! their Quality and Quantity keeps 'em in Coun- tenance. Sir Fr. So that a Man may be any one, or all of 'em, and yet appear no Monfter in moft of the publick Places about Town. Ld. Wrong. But with fubmiflion, Sir Friendly, if I meet with a Man of Figure, that talks agreeably over a Glafs,- what in the Name of good Nature have I to do with his Morals ? Sir Fr. 'Tis in my Opinion, as difhoneft in a Man of Quality to converfe with a well-bred Rogue, as 'twere unfafe for a Woman of Reputation to make a Companion of an agreeable Strumpet. People's Tafte and Principles are very juftly meafur'd by their Choice of Acquaintance: Befides, a Man of Honour owes the dis- countenance of a Villain, as a Debt to his own Dignity. How poor a Spirit mull: it (hew in our People of Fortune, to let Fellows, who deferve hanging every other Day of their lives, die at laft of fitting up in the belt Company? But my Lord Wronglove, I am afraid I have a Pardon to afk,- the laft time we three were together, did not the old Fellow a little over-moot himfelf? I thought, when I parted, I had been freer in my Advice than became me? Ld. Wrong. So far from it, that your very Manner of /peaking makes your moft fevere Pveproofs an Obligation. Sir Fr. Nay, I was only concern'd for what I had faid to your Lorddiip: As for this Spark, I no more mind his Caprice, than I believe he does any thing I can fay to him : And yet the Knave has Something of good Humour in him, that makes me I can't help fomerimes throwing away my words upon him. But give ms your Hand j in troth, when I was at your Years, I had my Fol- lies too. Ld. Geo, the Wife's Resentment. 51 Ld. Geo. Ay! now you come to us Nuncle, and I hope yotl'll have good Nature enough, not to expe& your Friends to be wifer than you were. Sir Fr. Perhaps I don't expect it, but in troth, if they mouM be wifer — for ray Soul I can't fee any Harm 'twould do 'em : And tho' I love with all my Heart, to fee Spirit in a young Fellow, yet a little Prudence won't poifon him. And if a Man that fets out into Life, fhou'd carry a little general Efteem with him, as part of his Equipage, he'd make never the worfe Figure at the end of his Journey. Ld. Geo. We young Fellows that ride Pod, never mind what Fi- gures we make. Sir Fr. Come! come! lets not contend for Vi&ory, but Truth — I love you both — and wou'd have all that know you do fo too — ■ Don't think becaufe you pafs for Men of Wit, and modiih Ho- nour, that that's all you owe to your Condition : Fortune has given you Titles to fet your Actions in a fairer Light, and Nature Under- standing to make 'em not only juft, but generous. Troth! Ic grieves me to think you can abufe fuch Happinels, and have no more Ambition, or regard to real Honour, than the wretched fine Gentlemen in moil: of our Modern Comedies! Will you forgive me — Upon my Faith, I don't fpeak thus of you to other People, nor wou'd I now fpeak fo to you, but to prevent other Peoples ipeaking thus of you to me. Ld. Geo. Nuncle, depend upon't I'm always pleas'd to hear you. Ld. Wrong. I take it kindly. Sir Fr. Then firft to you, Lord George, What can you think the honeft part of the World will fay of you, when you have fe- due'd the innocent Inclinations of one of the befl: Wives, from per- haps one of the befl: Hufbands in the World. — To be plain, I mean my Lady Gentle ; You fee, my Lord, with all your Dif- cretion, your Defign's no Secret. Ld. Geo. Upon my Life, Nuncle, if I were half the Fellow you think me, I fhou'd be amam'd to look People in the Face. Sir Fr. Fie, fie! how ufrlefs is the Force of Underfkanding, when only Age can give us Vertue? Ld.fFrong. Come, Sir, you fee he's incorrigible, you'll have G 2 better 5 2 The Lady's Last S ta k e : Or, better Succefs with me, I hope ,• for, to tell you the Truth, I have few Pleafures, that you can call it Venue in me to part with. Sir Fr. I am glad to hear it, my Lord, 1 (hall be as favourable as I can ; but, fince we are in fearch of Truth, muft freely tell you, The Man that violates himfelf the facred Honours of his Wife's chaft Bed (I muft be plain, my Lord) ought at lead to fear, as file's the frailer Sex, the fame from her; the Injury to her (hikes deeper than the Head, often to the Heart. And then her Provo- cation is in Nature greater ; and injur'd Minds think nothing is un- jufr, that's natural, This ought to make a wife Man tremble: For, in the Point of real Honour, there's very little Difference between being a Cuckold, and deferving to be one: And to come a little clofer to your Lordmip's Cafe, to fee fo fine a Woman as my Lady JVronglove, even in her Flower of Beauty, flighted for the unblown Pleafures of a Green- fick Girl ,- befides, th' imprudent part argues at bell a thin and fickl.y Appetite. Ld. IVrong. Sir Friendly, I am almoft afham'd to anfwer you, . Your Reproach indeed has touch'd me; I mean for my At- tempts upon your young Kinfwoman ; but, becaufe 'tis not fit you fhou'd take my Word, after my owning fo unfair an Action, here's one can bear me Witnefs, that not half an Hour before you came in, I had refolv'd never to perfue her more. Sir Fr. My Lord, I came not to reproach you with a Wrong to me, but to yourfclf,- had the Girl had no Relation to me, I (till had faid the fame j not but I now am doubly bound to thank you. Ld. Geo. And now, Nuncle, I'll give you a piece of Advice : Difpofe of the Child as foon as you can, rather under-match her, than not at all: For, if you'll allow me to know any thing of the Mathematicks, that before iTie's five Weeks older {he will be totally unqualified for an Ape-leader, you may as positively depend upon, as that (lie is of the Feminine Gender. Sir Fr. I am pretty well acquainted with the Ripenefs of her In- clinations, and have provided for 'em ,• unlefs fome fuch Spark as you (now my Lord has laid 'cm down) whips up the Cudgels in the mean time. Ld. Geo. Not I, upon Honour, depend upon't ; her Perlbn's quite out of my Gouft, nor have I any more Concern about it than I have the Wife's Resentment. 53 I have to know who will be the next King of Poland, or who is the true Original of Strops for Razors. ~Ld. Wrong, Six Friendly, I own I have been no Stranger in o- ther Places to the Follies you have charg'd me with ,• yet I am Co fir inclin'd to part with them, that were it poffible i could be, my own way, and properly, reconcil'd to my Wife, I wou'd not wi(h a Thought of Happinefs beyond it. Sir Ft. My Lord, I know her Temper, and her Spirit. Ld. Wrong. O! human Patience can't bear it. Sir Ft. I warrant you! A wife Man will bear a greater Weaknefs from a Woman : And, fince I find your good Nature is not wholly difoblig'd, I could wiih, for both your Sakes, I had your Lordfhip's fecret leave to talk with her. Ld. Wrong. Um ! Cou'd not it as well be done without my Leave, Sir Friendly? I fhou'd not Care to have her think I made Advances Sir Fr. O!— — J am a Friend to both, and will betray neither of you. [Enter a Servant.'] Serv. Sir, there's a Gentleman come out of the City, and flays at your Houfe to (peak with you. Sir Ft. I'll wait on him. My Lord, will you excufe me ? Ld. Wrong. I cou'd rather wiih your Bufinefs wou'd, Sir Friendly. Six Ft. Upon my Word, my Lord, 'tis urgent j this Man brings me Money : I am difcharging my felf of my Guardianfhip to Mrs. Conquefly and my Bufinefs is now to pay her in the lad: Sum of her Fortune. Ld. Geo. What's the Sum total, Nuncle, if a Man fhou'd happen to fet a Price upon his Liberty ? Sir Fr. Come, come, the Liberties you value, my Lord, are not worth keeping : An honeft Smile from the good Humour of that Girl is worth all the fodden Favours of your whole Seraglio Will four thoufand Pound do any good, my Lord. Ld. Geo. Look you, Sir Friendly, Marriage is very honourable and wife, and — and — it — it — it's — it's an extreme fine thing, no doubt; but I am one of thofe frank- hearted Fellows that had rather fee my Friends happy that way than my felf. My Lord, your Servant, £4 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Servant, If you are going home, Nuncle, I'll carry you, for I have Bufinefs at your Houfe too. Ld. Wrong. Who's there? Light out! Lord George , is your new Chariot at the Door? Ld. Geo. Yes j and pofitively the prettieft that ever roll'd in the Rear of fix Horfes. Ld. Wrong. I have a Mind to look at it. [Exeunt. The End of the Third AB. ACT IV. SCENE, Lord Wronglove'j Houfe. Enter Lady Wronglove and Mrs. Hartmorn. La. Wrong. "V"TT* 7" A S Sir Friendly within. YY Mrs. Hartf Yes, Madam, he gives his humble Service, and fays he will certainly be at home at eight a Clock, and expect your Ladyfliip's Commands. La. Wrong. Did the Fellow give my Service to my Lady Gentle too, and to Mrs. Conquejl? Mrs. Hartf. He did not fay any thing of it to me, Madam. La. Wrong. Y^hat Blockhead is it you always find out to neglect my Bufinefs? Whom did you fend? Mrs. Hartf. James y Madam. La. Wrong. Call him in, I find I muft always give my Orders my felf. Mrs. Hartf. He's gone to the Play to keep your Ladyfliip's Places. La. Wrong. The Play ! (lire the People are all out of their Sen- fes! Why I fhall'nt go to Day. Mrs. Hartf He fay'd, Madam, your Ladyfhip order'd him, right or wrong, to keep Places every Saturday. La. Wrong. Pfhah ! Mrs. Hartf. I hope your Ladyfnip is not angry at me, Madam. La. Wrong. No! Prithee! I don't know what I fav. s Mrs. Hartf. the Wife's Resentment. 55 Mrs. Hartf. Ah, poor Lady! [A/tde. La. Wrong. What is the Play to Day ? Mrs. Hartf. The — the — Husband , fomething — the Careful Husband, I think, Madam. La. Wrong. The Careful; the Carekfs Husband, you mean fure — tho' I never faw it. Mrs. Hartf. Yes, yes, Madam — it's that Play, that my Lady Wear-breeches hates fo, that I faw once, Madam where there's a Lady that comes in, and catches her Hufband fad afleep with her own Woman, and then takes her Handkercher off her Neck, and then goes foftly to him La. Wrong. And ftrangles him in his Sleep? Mrs. Hartf. No, Madam. La. Wrong. Oh, ftrangles the Woman. Mrs. Hartf. No, Madam, fhe only lays it gently over his Head, for fear he ihou'd catch Cold, and fo fteals out of the Room, with- out fo much as offering to wake him. La. Wrong. Horrid! And what becomes of the poor fpirited Crea- ture ? Mrs. Hartf. O ! Madam, when the Gentleman wakes, and finds that his Lady has been there without taking any notice of it to him, he grows fo mam'd of his Wickednefs, and fo fenfible of her Ver- tues, that he afterwards proves the civile!! Gentleman, and the bell Huiband in the World to her. La. Wrong. Foh! were I an Hufband, a Wife with fuch a tame enduring Spirit wou'd make me fcorn her, or, at beft, but deep at her groveling Vertue Is my Lord within ? Mrs. Hartf. Yes, Madam, he's reading in his Clofet. La. Wrong. Any thing, the dulled Solitude more pleafes him than my Company Hoh! (Sigjoing. Mrs. Hartf (Afide.) Ah poor Lady ! it makes me weep to fee her grieve at Heart fo. La. Wrong. Go to my Lord, and fay I defire to fpeak with him. [Exit. Mrs. Hartfhorn.] O! for a Draught of cold Indifference to chill this lukewarm Love, that wou'd rebel againft my Peace, that I may leave without a Pang this hardned Wretch, and to th? rude Riots of his grofs Defire give him up for ever — He comes, keep down $6 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, down my fvvelling Heart, and let tame Patience fpeak my Wrongs for once, for Wrongs like mine need not the Force, or Fire of Paf- fion to prefent 'em. Enter Lord Wvonglove. Ld. Wrong. I am told, Madam, you defire to fpeak with me! La. Wrong. Yes, my Lord, and which perhaps you'll not diilike, to talk with you in Temper too, if you're in Temper to receive it. Ld. Wrong. While you're in Temper, Madam, I (hall always think I owe you the refpect of keeping mine, and when you are not, I iliall keep it in refped; to my felf. La. Wrong. My Lord I never had occafion to queftion your know- ing what you ought to do: But you are not bound, you'll fay, to make your Inclination a Slave to your Underftanding : And there- fore 'tis poflible you won't want Arguments to convince me, that a Wife's obliged to bear all Faults in her Hufband, that are not in her Power to punifh. Ld. Wrong. Proceed. La. Wrong. Now I mud tell you, my Lord, when any one injures me, becaufe 'tis in their Power, I {hall certainly hate 'em for't, be- caufe that's in my Power. Ld. Wrong. I am forry you think it worth your while to make ufe of fo unprofitable a Power. La. Wrong. I am forry I have Occafion for it. Ld. Wrong. Um That's half a Queftion but go on. La. WronGent. What Thought, my Dear? 4 Mifs Not. the Wife's Resentment. 63 Mifs Not. O! Madam! cou'd any thing, but the greateft Villain upon Earth, think to make me a Procurefs. La. Gent. Child! you ftartle me! Mifs Not. Or any Mortal, but from a mod profligate Principle of the moft provoking Vanity, nourirn but the leaft living hope againft your Lady (hip's Vertue. La. Gent. How Child! Mifs Not. Or any Monfter, but the moft ungrateful, moft auda- cious of Mankind propofe too, that I fhou'd difcover his odious In- clinations to your Ladyfhip, before the very Face of one who in- nocently loves him: O! I am paft Patience! — I think I do it bravely. [/r/ide.] SJValks m dtforder. La. Gent. I am all Confufion ! Mrs. Con. [/ffide.] If this Girl's Paflion is not all an Air, and his own Contrivance, then will I be bound to endure the Succefs of it. La. Gent. His Inclination! and to me! and yet propos'd, that you fhou'd- difcover it before Mrs. Conquejl too: To Glory in fuch Info- lence! This feems a Contradiction. Mifs Not. Or elfe faid he, 'twould never be believ'd ; for having the idle Reputation of liking one, I am oblig'd that both fhould know it, that fhe I really love may fee I'm wholly free from any former Paflion. Mrs. Con. This Lye muft be his own, by the Extremity of its Impudence. [/Ifide. La. Gent. But when he us'd my Name, Child, why were you not fhock'd at firft? why did not you leave him to tell his idle Story to the Wind? Mifs Not. O Madam! that was it betray'd me into hearing him: For when he firit began he nam'd no Names ,• that he referv'd till laft, till he had told me all to. clinch the Secret with. La. Gent. But, pray Child, how did he begin it? What was his- manner of firft attempting you? Mrs. Con. Her Ladyfhip grows a little inquifitive, methinks. [Jfide. Mifs Not. O! with all the fubtle Softnefs that ever humble Love infpir'd: — Then of afudden, roufing from his Fear, he gave him- felf fuch an animated Air of Confidence, threw back his Wig, and Gry'd aloud: But why fhould fhe afharrfd, or angry be } 23- be beloved by_ me ? Mrs, Con, 6$. The Lady's Last St. Ql\ Mrs. Cm. What do you think of his Modefty now, Madam. La. Gent. I am amaz'd, indeed. Mifs Not. Then he turn'd to me, prefs'd me by the Hand, and, kneeling, begg'cT my Friendfhip, and threw into my Lap iuch un- told Heaps of Gold, fore'd upon my Finger too a fparking Diamond, 1 thought mud beggar him to purchafe — But when I heard him clofe his impudent Story with offering me a Letter to give your Ladyfhip • while Mrs. Conqitefi was by. 1 ftarted up, and told him, Yes, my Lord, I'll do your Errand, but without your Letter, in another manner than your infamous Principles have propos'd it; my Lady lhall know your Pafhon, but know it, as 1 do, to avoid, to loath, and fcorn you for fuch a villainous Thought. While I was faying this, I threw his filchy Gold upon the Floor, his Letter into the Fire, his Diamond out of the Window, and left him to gather 'em up, as he pleas'd, without expecting an Anfwer. La. Gent. Sure! 'tis impofhble a Man fhou'd wear a Face, that cou'd io ftedfaftly belye his Heart. Mifs Not. So I was refolv'd to tell your Ladyihip — Befides, I though; - it proper Mrs. Conqueji mould know his Brutality to her too. Mrs. Con. O! I am mightily oblig'd to you, my Dear, but I knew him before. % Mifs Not. \/ifide.~\ Hah! how affe6tedly indifferent the vain thing is? La. Gent. My Dear, I'm at a Lofs how far to doubt, or to be- lieve this Folly of him. Pray advife me. [To Mrs. Con. Mrs. Con. If your. Ladyihip wou'd take my Opinion, I'd be- en- tirely eafie, I'd neither doubt or believe any thing of the Matter, till I had it confirm'd from his own Behaviour. Mifs Not. {/jfecie.'] 1 can't bear this,— She fhalln't be fo cafie, — I'll tell her the whole Truth of his addreffing to me, but I'll humble her. La. Gent. Now, you know, he was to be here with other Com- pany at Cards to Night, but if you'll do me the Favour to fie with I'll keep my Chamber, lay I'm indifpos'd, and fee no Compa- ny at all. What think you? Mrs. Con. I think it won't be worth that Trouble, Madam, Enter a Servant. Sew. Madam, the Company's come. La. Gt the Wife's Resentment. 65 La. Gent. Is my Lord George there ? Serv. Yes, Madam. La. Gent. What (hall we do now ? Mrs. Con. By all means go and receive him among the reft, as you us'd to do, and take no notice of any thing, I'll wait upon your Ladyfhip in two Minutes. La. Gent. If you don't I (hall certainly betray my felf, I'll come and fetch you. [Exit. La. Genr. Mrs. Con. As you pleafe, Madam. 1 have obferv'd a thoughtful Smile upon this Girl's Face, that makes me fancy her Secret is bun half out yet. If I guefs right, I'll e'en pique her little Pride till fhe tells me, for I know the Chit does not care for me. \Afide. Mils Not. Oh ! Mrs. Canity's a little upon the hum-drum at laft, I fee, I'll make her fob before I have done with her. Mrs. Con- quefi you feem a little concern'd about this Matter,- now, if I were you, I'd take no manner of notice of it, he fliou'd not have the Pride to think 'twas in his Power to give me a Moment's Uneafinefs. Mrs. Con. My dear, you advife me very well, but, upon my Word, I am not uneafie. Mifs Not. Pooh! That's fuch a jeft! as if you did not love my Lord George. Mrs. Con. Did he ever tell you I did? Mi(sA r ot. Tell me! — No: — But — One fees that well enough. Mrs. Con. Why then if I do love him, Child, you may depend upon't, it's only from the Aflurances I have of his loving me only. Mifs Not. But fince you fee (as the World will too, in a little time) how falfe thofe Aflurances are, had not you better feem to leave him, than lie under the Scandal of his leaving you. Mifs Con. No, Child ; I'll ftill keep up my Pretentions, if it be only to hinder other vain Creatures from coming into Hopes of him : For I know, were I once to own my felf difengag'd, then ev'ry im- pertinent Coquet in Town would be giving Airs to him. Mifs Not. Was ever any thing fo (lupidly vain ? {/ifide.'] Lard ! Madam, you have a mighty Opinion of your Perfections lure, to think it impofTible a Man can be falfe to you : Some Women wou'd ha' been a top of the Houfe, by this time, if they had only heard of their Lover's common Civility to another. — You are ftrnngely Vol. II. I happy 66 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, happy fure, when his owning a Paffion to your Friend, before your Face, can'c make you uneafie, Heh! heh! Mrs. Con. Methinks, Child, my want of jealoufie from what you've faid, gives you a little uneafinefs — I fhou'd be loath to think his idle way of Raillery had taught you to think of Love fo foon! Mifs Not. So foon! I fuppofe, Madam, if I had the Forwardness of your Lady (hip's Inclination, I might produce as good Proofs of his Faffion for me, as you can of his Conftancy to you. Mrs. Con. So! lie's ftirr'd 1 muft have the reft on't. \/lfide. His Paffion to thee, Love, that were impolTible Have a Palfion for any thing fo uncapable to conceive it Why Love's a thing you won't be fit to think of thefe two Years. Mifs Not. Not think of it! I'd have you to know, Madam, there are Men in the World that think me as fit for a Lover as your Ladyfhip. Mrs. Con. So ! now it's coming. \Afide. MifsA^. And however unfit you think me, Madam, I'd advife you next time any Man's idle Raillery flatters you into a Paffion for him, don't let me know it ; I fay, don't let me know it, for fear my Unfitnefs mould undeceive you Vanity, by taking him from you Not think of it! — I fhall live to fee you burfl with Envy, Ma- dam — Do you obferve me ? Burft! burfl! — Not think of it! Mrs. Con. Nay, now I am convinc'd — This Paffion, I dare fwear, is real — He has certainly faid fome civil thing to thee, before he was aware.— = — But for what you faid of him, jufl now, to my Lady Gentle, my pretty One Mifs Not. Pretty One! Pray Madam! Tho 5 I'm forry I ean't fay the fame of your Ladyfhip. Mrs. Con. I fay, all your late fobbing, and pretending to throw Cold about the Room, and Diamonds out of the Window, and all that Stuff, my Honey, I am now confirm'd was all, from firft to lair, jhe pretty Fiction of thy own little Pride and Jealoufie, only to have ihe Eafe of giving me Pain from his fuppos'd forfaking me. Mifs Not. Hah! ha! ha! I am glad to fee your Vanity fo fwell'd, Madam, but fince I find 'tis your Difeafe, I'll be your Friend for once, and work your Cure by burfting it : Know then you've guefs'd a Truth thr.t has undone you: The part I've a&ed of his pretended Paffion to another, was, as you faid indeed, a Fi&ion all, and only play'd the Wife's Resentment. £7 play'd to give my Pride the Diverfion of his owning to your Face how little he regards you. But know the fatal Face to which you owe your Ruine, was not my Lady Gentle's (that was my own Invention) but Mine j not Her, nor You, but Me, and Me alone he loves — Thefe poor unfit Features have feduc'd him from you — And now let all the World (that fees how barbaroufly your Vanity, or mine, has miftaken idle Raillery for Love) judge who's moil fit to think of it. [Exit. Mrs. Con. Now the Myltery's unfolded — O! this fubtle Devil! how artfully has he fool'd this forward Girl to his AfTiftance — Well! there's fomething in the barefac'd excefs of his AfTurance that makes me Smile : I'm loath to fay he's impudent, but he has an undaunted Modefty, that's certain, and for that very one Quality 'twill be worth my while not to truft him even with my Lady Gentle O Sir Enter Sir Friendly Moral. Sir Fr. So Child, how ftand Affairs now ? Any frefh Difcovery ? Mrs. Con. Oniy a trifling confirmation or two, Sir, ofwhatwefuf peeked before — Therefore what we do mud be done quickly — Have you confider'd what I propos'd, Sir? Sir Fr. In troth 'tis a wild Thought, but you have a wild Spark to deal with, and for ought I know, his own Snares may be likelieft to hold him. Only take this general Caution with you, that the warmth of your Undertaking don't carry you into any Action, that the difcretion of your Sex can't anfwer. Mrs. Con. Fear not, Sir, I know my Man, and know my felf. Sir Fr. Then here's you Letter writ, and feal'd, as you directed. Mrs. Con. And here- comes my Lady, 'twill be now a fit occafion to make ufe of it. Sir Fr. I'll leave you then. Mis. Con. When I have done with her, Sir, I wou'd confult you farther. Sir Fr. I'll expect you in my Chamber. [Exit Sir Friend. Enter Lady Gentle. La. Gent. O Child I'm glad I have found you. Mrs. Con. What's the Matter, Madam ? La. Gent^l think I was never more provok'd in my Life. Mrs. Con. Any thing from my LovdGeorge? La. Gent. Yes-fomething that makes me Ihudder at the Thought. Mrs. Con. Blefs me! I 1 La. Gent. £8 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, La. Gent. Something fo grofly infolent in the over refpectfulnefs of his Behaviour, fuch an affected Awe when he but ipeaks to me, fomethincr that mews within his Heart fo vain, fo arrogant a Hope; it more provokes me than all the awkward Follies of a barefac'd Impu- dence : And fmce I find he fecretly prefumes upon my knowing his odious Secret, 'twill be therefore but equal Juftice to my felf and you, to crufh his idle Hopes at once: For not to check is to encou- rage 'em: And when once a Woman's known to be follow'd, let her Virtue be never fo fam'd, or fortified, the good natur'd Town al- ways conclude the Lover fuccefsful. Mrs. Con. You did not feem to underftand his Behaviour ?] Mrs. Gent. I can't tell whether he underftood me, or no ; but I cou'd not help faying in a very grave manner, that whatever ftraic I put my felf to, his iooo /. fhou'd certainly be paid him next Week. Mrs. Con. And how did he take it? La. Gent. O ! he is not to be put out of Countenance, that I fee, for he prefs'd me with a world of eafie Civility, not to give my felf the lead Concern ; for if I pleas'd, he wou'd immediately give me a very chance to pay him without ever drawing a Line for it. Mrs. Con. A fair chance! What was it? La, Gent. Why, he offer'd me indeed at Picquet fuch odds, as I am fuje he is not able to give me ,• for Count Tadly, who flood by, thought it fo confiderable an Advantage, that he beg'd he might go my halfs, or what part of the Money I pleas'd. Mrs. Con. Well faid Count This may come to fomething She muft play with him — for pofitively there's no other way of fee- ing a quick end of his Hopes, or my own. La. Gent. The extravagance of his offer I confefs furpriz'd me, fo I only told him I'dconfider on't, and came to you for Advice. Mrs. Con. Then certainly, Madam, take him at his word f and fmce you know his dimoneft end, in offering fuch an Advantage, ev'o make ufe on't, and let his very bafenefs punifh it felf. La. Gent. As how ? Mrs. Con. Look you, the befl: way to difappoint his Hopes, is fird to raife 'em — Go to him this Minute call for Cards^— and put on ail the coquet Airs imaginable : Smile at his Refpect, and glance him out of his affected Model! y. By this means you will certainly encourage WC Wife's Resentment. 69 encourage his Vanity, not only to the Gallantry of letting you win your Money again, but more than probably of loiing his own to you. La. Gent. I vow yon tempv me ftran^ely — I bogole at nothing but thofe Airs you fpeak or, I ihall do it Co aukwardly Mrs. Con. Pooh! 1 warrant you, trull to Nature: it's nothing, one cannot fet one's Hair in a Glafs without 'em If it were not a lure Card, you can't think I'd advife you to play it, for my own Sake. La. Gent. That, indeed, leaves me nothing to fay. — Well, upon your Encouragement, I will venture, and the very Moment 1 get home the Sum I am out to him, I'll throw up my Cards, and fair- ly tell him, I know when its time to give over. Mrs. Con. Admirable. La. Gent. Nay, and becaufe I don't think I owe him the Regard of declaring it my felf, I'll go down into Sujfex to Morrow Morn- ing, and leave you, if you think fit, to tell him the Occailon. Mrs. Con. No, Madam, to let your Ladyhhip fee I think every thing as entirely fafe under your Difcretion, as my own, Iamrefolv'd to go out of Town this Moment. La. Gent. What do you mean ? Mrs. Con. I have receiv'd a Letter here from my Brother Sir Charles, my Twin-Brother, Madam, whom I have not feen thefe nine Years; he arriv'd but laft Night from Italy, to take PoiTeilion of his Eftate, he's now at his Houfe in Effex, and a little indifpos'd after his Voyage, he has fent his Coach, and begs if potTible, I would be with him to Night. La. Gent. To Night! Impoflible! Go as early in the Morning, Child, as you pleafe. Mrs. Con. No, dear Madam, pardon me, the Moon mines, and I had rather defer my Sleep, than break it. La. Gent. Well, my Dear, fince you won't be perfuaded, I wifh you a good Journey 1 mail fee you before you go. Mrs. Con. I have juft a Moment's Bufinefs with Sir Friendly, and then I'll wait upon your Ladyfhip. [Exit Lady Gentle.] Well, there (lie goes How (he will come off I can't tell. The good Wo- man, I dare fwear, is truly Innocent in her Intentions, but good looking after, I fancy, can do her no Injury : For Virtue, tho' fhe's of a Noble Spirit, and a Great Conqueror, 'tis true ; yet, as fhe's Stout, 70 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Stoit, alas! we know fhe's Merciful, and when fly Humility and Nature kneel hopelefs to her unqueftion'd Power, they look fo piti- ful, fpeak in fuch a gentle Tone, and figh their Griefs with fuch. Submiflion, that cruel Virtue lofes all its Anger for Companion — Compaffion kindles Hope, Hope arms AfTurance, and then — Tho' Virtue may have Courage enough to give a flout Knock with her Heel, for fome body to come in — ftill, I fay, if fome body fhou'd come in — 'twou'd be ungrateful in any Woman alive not to allow, that good Attendance fpmetimes may do her Virtue confiderable Ser- vice. — — [Exit. The End of the Fourth AB. A C T V. The SCENE continues. Enter Lord George, and Mifs Notable. Mifs Not. O O when I found that wou'd not take down her Va- l^ nity, I e'en told her the whole Truth of the Matter, that it was not my Lady Gentle, but her humble Servant was her Rival. Ld. Geo. Well faid ; What did Mrs. Conqueft fay upon that? Mifs Not. She did not fay much, but the poor Soul's gone out of Town upon't. Ld. Geo. Out of Town at this time of Night I What d'ye mean ? Mifs Not. Jufl: as I fay, Sir — Her Brother, it feems, is come from Travel, fo the Fullnefs of her Stomach laid hold on that Occafion, and ftie pretends {lie's gone to meet him — Now what I expect from you is this ; fince I fee nothing but Demonftration will heartily humble her LadyfTiip, you (hall confefs all I told her of your Ad- drcding to me, under your own Hand, in a Billet to me, which I'll jnclofe in a flinging Letter from my felf to her, and fend it imme- diately. Ld. G-eo. So, fo, I am like to be drawn into a fine Bufinefs here; The Jeft mud not go fo far neither: The Child has a ftrange Vi- vacity in her good Nature [Afide, Mifs Not. the Wife's Resentment. 71 Mifs Not. You paufe upon't . Ld. Geo. Well, Madam, to let you fee I (corn to proflfs more than I'll ftand to, do you draw up the Letter to your Mind, I'll copy ic, and — and— and — and — put the Change upon you. \ACide, Mifs Not. Ay, now you lay fomething, I'll about it immediately. Ld. Geo. Do Co, I'll ftay here till you have done it. [Exit Mil's Not.] Who fays I am not a provident Lover? For now by that Time my Harveit of Lady Gentle is over, the early Inclination I have Town in this Girl will be juft ripe and ready for the Side A true Wo- man's Man mould breed his MiftrcfTes, as an old What-d'ye-call-'uni does young Girls in a Play-Houfe, one under another, that he may have always fomething fit for the Defire of feveral Perfons of Qua- lity But here comes my Lady Gentle AiTurance, (land fail, and don't let the infolent Awe of a fine Woman's Virtue look thee out of Countenance. Enter Lady Gentle. La. Gent. Come, come, my Lord, where do you run ? the Cards flay for you. Ld. Geo. I did not know your Ladyfhip had refolv'd to do me the Honour of accepting the Match I propos'd you. La. Gent. O your Servant grave Sir you have a Mind to be off on't, I fuppofe but as meer a Country-Gentlewoman as you think me, you'll find I am enough in the Mode not to refufe a good Offer, whether I deferve it or no. Ld. Geo. Coquet by all that's lovely. (Afide.) 1 mud confefs, Madam, I fhou'd be glad to fee your Ladyfhip a little better recon- cile to the Diveifions in Fafhion. La. Gent. And if I have any Skill in Faces, whatever folemn Airs you give you felf, no body is more a private Friend to 'em than your Lordfhip. Ld. Geo. I can't difown a fecret Tendernefs for every Thing that ought to move the Heart, but Reputation fhou'd be always facred: And he that does not take fome care of his own, can never hope to be much trufted with other People's: For were a Woman of Condi- tion generoufly to make that Trufl, what Confequence upon Earth cou'd be more terrible to her, than the Folly, or Bafenefs of her Lover's expofing the Secret, La. Gent. 7 2 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, La. Gent. Very modifh Morals, upon my Word, fo that a prudent regard to her Reputation is all the Virtue you think a Woman has oc- casion for Fie, fie, I'll fwear my Lord, I took you for quite ano- ther Man. Ld. Geo. I never was deceiv'd in your Ladyfliip, for I always took you for a Woman of the firft and quickeft Underftanding. La. Gent. Are not you a wicked Creature? How can you have the AiTurance to think any Woman that knows you, will be commonly civil to you? Ld. Geo. I do think the mod: impudent thing a Man can offer a Woman, is to afk the leaft Favour of her before he has done fome- thing to deferve it, and fo, if you pleafe, Madam, we'll e'en fit down to Picquet, and make an end of our Argument afterwards. La. Gent, [/Ifide.] How blind is Vanity ? that this Wretch can't fee 1 fool him all this while? — Well, my Lord, for once I won't baulk your Gallantry. [Enter Sir Friendly.] Come, Sin. Friendly, my Lord and I am going to Picquet, have you a mind to look on a little? Sir Fr. Troth, Madam, I have often lookt on, and have as often wondred, to fee two very good Friends fit fairly down, and in cool Blood, agree to wifh one another heartily inconvenienc'd in their Fortune. Ld. Geo. O Fie! Nuncle, that's driving the Confequence too far. Sir Fr. Not a Jot -And 'tis amazing, that fo many good Fa- milies fhou'd daily encourage a Diverfion, whofe utmoit Pleafure is founded upon Avarice and ill Nature : For thofe are always the fe- cret Principles of deep Play. Re-enter Mifs, and winks to Lord George. Ld. Geo. I'll wait upon your Ladyfliip in a moment. [Exit. La. Gent. I don't know, Play is a Diverfion that always keeps the Spirits awake, methinks, whether one wins or lofes. Sir Fr. I have very little to fay againlt a moderate ufe of it — but we grow ferious — Pray, Madam, is my Lady Wronglove in the next Room. lA.Gent. I left her there/ Ihe was enquiring for you Here i fhe is. Enter Lady Wronglove. La. GW. Well, Madam! What are they doing within ? La. Wrong, There's like to be no Bank, I find, they are all broke into Ombre and Picquet. La. Gent. the Wife's Resentment. 73 La. Gent. Your Ladymip is not for Play then? La. Wrong. Not yet, Madam ^ I have a word or two with Sir Friendly, and I'll endeavour to wait on your Ladyihip. Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, here's Sir John Conqueji juft come to Town, he enquires for your Ladyfhip, or Sir Friendly Moral. La. Gent. Sir John! What a Miftake has poor Mrs. Conqueji made now? She went but an Hour ago to meet him? Sir Fr. Will your Ladyfhip give me leave to wait on him ? La. Gent. If you pleafe to give yourfelf that trouble, Sit Friend- ly. Pray defire him to walk in. [Exit Sir Friendly.] Is my Lord Wronglove come, Madam? La. Wrong. He faid he would be here; but you muft not expect him the more for that. La. Gent. He does not much (land upon Forms, indeed - } but he's extremely good humour'd, when one has him. La. Wrong. How can People tafte good Humour, where there's no Principle ? La. Gent. And what dull Company wou'd the ftri&eft Principles be without good Humour ? La. Wrong. And yet the beft Temper's but a Cheat without 'em. La. Gent. He muft be a Man indeed that lives without a Fault,- but there are fome, that 'tis always a Woman's Intereft to over- look in a Hufband : Our Frowns may govern Lovers, but Hufbands mud be fmil'd on. La. Wrong. I fhou'd defpife the Man that muft be flatter'd to be juft. LiL.Gent. Alas! The Price is very little, and let me tell you, Madam ,• the Man that's juft is not to be defpis'd. La. Wrong. He that lives in a profefs'd Contempt of Obligations, can never be belov'd 'tis better to releafe 'em : You'll fhortly fee me eafie. La. Gent. I mall ever wim you Co. Enter Sir Friendly with Mrs. Conqueft, in Man's Habit. Sir/r. This, Sir, is my Lady Gentle. [They fahte* La. Gent. Your are welcome into England, Sir. Vol. II. K. Enter 74. The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Enter Lord Geo. who feeing Mrs. Con queft, ' whifpers i$7f Friendly. Mrs. Con. I hope your Ladyfhip will excufe ray unfeafonable Vi- fit, but I rather chofe to be troublefome than flow in the Acknow- ledgments I owe your Ladyfhip for your many Favours to my Sifter. La. Gent. Mrs. Conquejl and her Friends are always welcome to me My Lady JVronglove, pray, know Sir John/ Sir Fr. My Lord George, and Sk John, Will you give me leave to recommend a Friendfhip between you. Ld. Geo. Sir, I mall be proud to embrace it. Mrs. Con. 'Twill be a Charity in a Man of your Lordfliip's Fi- gure to give a raw young Fellow a little Countenance at his firfb Ar- rival. Ld. Geo. Your Appearance, Sir, I am confident, will never want a Friendship among the Men of Tafte, or the Ladies. Sir Fr. This young Lady, Sir John, is a near Relation of mine- and if you have not left your heart abroad, will endanger it here as far as e're a Southern Beauty of 'em all. Mrs. Con. If the Lady's Good-nature were equal to her Beauty, 'twould be difpos'd this minute. Ld. Geo. Faith, he's a pretty Fellow. Mifs Not. A fweet Creature ! \Afide. La. Wrong. He's extremely like his Sifter.. Ld. Gent. The very Image of her. Mrs. Con. We were both made at the fame time, Ladies, I only wifh (he had been born to Breeches too: For I fanfy that wild Hu- mour of hers is difmally put to't under the Confinement of Petti- coats [Lady Wrong, goes to Sir Friendly.] Ld Gent. I find, Sir John, you are Twins in your good humour, as well as your Perfons. Mrs. Con. We always took a Liberty with one another, Madam, tho' I. believe the Girl may be honeft: at the bottom. Ld. Geo. Methinks you lofe time with the young Lady, Sir John. [Afide. Mrs. Con. To tell you the Truth, my Lord, I find my felf a little too (harp fet for a formal Gallantry, I have had a tedious Voyage, and wou'd be as glad of a fmall Recommendation to any bumble extempore Favour. Ld. Geo*. the Wife's Resentment. 75 Ld. Geo. Faith I am a little out of Gentlewomen, my felf at prefent : But if your Occasions are not very prefTing, I'll put you out of a defpairing Condition I'll carry you behind the Scenes, and there are Ladies of all forts, Coquets, Prudes, and Virgins (they fay) ferious and Comical, Vocal, and Inftrumental. Mrs. Con. We (hall find a time, my Lord. Mifs Not. I muft have a Friendfhip with him, that's Pois. Let me fee ay, that will do it. What a dear Pleafure 'tis, be in what Company one will, to have all the young Fellows particular. [Afide. Mrs. Con. [To Lady Gent.] I am afraid, Madam, we interrupt the Diverfion of the good Company, I heard Cards call'd for as we came in. La. Gent. If you pleafe then, Sir John, we'll ftep into the next Room my Lady Wronglove t we'll expect you. [Exeunt all but Lady Wrong, and Sir Friendly. La. Wrong. I'll wait upon your Ladyfhip. Sir Fr. I am forry, Madam, to find the Mifunderftanding carri- ed to iuch Extremities. La. Wrong. After fuch Ufage 'tis impoflible to live with him. Sir Fr. And have you in your calmer Thoughts e'er weigh'd the miferable Confcquence of parting ? La. Wrong. 'Twill (hew the World, at lead, I am not like the World ,• but fcorn on any Terms t'endure the Man that wrongs me. Since too he ftill perfids in his Defiance of my Refentment, what Re- medy on Earth have I but parting? Sir Fr. Is there no Cure for Wounds but bleeding dead ? You'll fay he has wrong'd you — Grant it — that Wrong has been fevere- ly'punifh'd in your 'fevere Refentment. La. Wrong. But ftill it has not cur'd the Wrong. Sir Fr. Then, certainly, 'twas wrong to ufe it. La. Wro;i>z. I've been redue'd to ufe it : Nor cou'd I bear the loofe, malicious Fleerings of the World without a juft Refentment upon him. Sir Fr. Nor wou'd I have you bear it no ; but difappoint their empty fafhionable Malice, clofe up this unprofitable Breach, 'tis ftill within your Power, and fix him yet more firmly yours. K 2 La. Wong. q6 The Lad ys Last Stake: Or, La. Wrong. Alas, 'tis now coo late ! We have agreed on other Terras : He too, at laft, is willing we fhou'd part. Sir Fr. Bury that Thought : Come, come, there's yet a gentler Cure, cou'd you fupprefs your Temper to go through it : This raih and fruitlefs Struggling with a broken Limb gives you but more out- ragious Pain, inflames the Wound, and brings your very Life of Peace in Danger : Think what a glorious Conqueft it wou'd be> ev'n in the Face of the cenforious and infklting World, to tame this Wanderer, whofe frail Inconftancy has fought a vain and falfe Relief abroad: To lure him home with foft Affedtion, to lull him into Blulhes, Peace, and envied Happinefs. One Word, one ten- der Look fecures your Triumph t Is there no Virtue, think you, in Remiffion ? Nothing perfuafive in the Reproach of patient Love? La. Wrong. 1 fee to what your Friendfhip wou'd perfuade me, but were it poflible my flatter'd Hopes cou'd lofe the Memory of my Wrongs for ever Say I cou'd this Moment hufli my Woman's Piide to all the Tendernefs of foft Affection, cou'd figh, cou'd weep, and earn for Reconcilement? Where cou'd a Wretch, un- heeded in her Wrongs like me, find flicker ? Where is the Friendly Bofome wou'd receive me? How can I hope for Comfort from that Breafr, that now I fear is hardned to my undoing ? Sir Fr. Cherifh that foftning Thought, and all may yet be well : O! there's a meritable* Goodnefs in thofe Fears that cannot fail to Conquer. Do not fuppofe, I can be partial to his Errors, and not a Friend to your Complaints. Refentment can but at beft revenge, but never redrefs 'em. Repole 'em with a Friend for once, and be aiTur'd, as of my Honefty, I'll make you no dishonourable Peace. La. Wrong. I don't doubt of your Sincere Endeavours. But who can anfwer for another's Morals ? Think how much more mi/era- ble you make me, fhou'd he infult upon my Patience. Sir /r. By that Sincerity you trull in, I know him of a fofter Nature, friendly, generous, and render; only to Oppofition, obsti- nately cool $ to Gentlenefs, fubmidfive as a Lover. La. Wrong. Do what you will with me. (Sits down zveephig* Sir Fr. He comes! be comforted! Depend upon my Friendship, the Wife's Resentment. 77 Enter Lord Wronglove. My Lord, I grieve to fee you here on this occafion. Ld. Wrong. I'm not my felf tranfported at it, Sir Friendly* 1 come t'obey my Summons. Sir Fr. How eafily we pay Obedience to our Wiflhes! Was it well done, my Lord, to work the Weaknefs of a Woman to afk for what you knew was her undoing? A Mind, which your Unkindnefs had diftemper'd, deferv'd a tenderer care, than reaching it aCorrofive for a Cordial. Your Judgment cou'd not but forefee the Refolution of a Love-fick Wife muft ftagger in the Shock of Separation. Ld. Wrong. Ha! [La. Wrong, weeping.] Sir Fr. Look there; and while thofe fofrning Tears reproach you, think on the long watched, reftlefs Hours, (he already has endui'd from your Mifdoing: Nor cou'd yon blame her, if in the torturing Pain (he thought her only Help was cutting off th'infeeled Limb : But youf You to hold the horrid Knife prepar'd, while your hard Heart was conlcious of a gentler Cure, was Cruelty beyond a hu- mane Nature. Ld. Wrong. Miftake me not: I need not thefe Reproaches, to be juft. I never fought this Separation, never wiiri'd it; and when it can be prov'd unkind in me to accept it, my Ruine fhou'd as foon be welcome. And tho' perhaps my negligence of Temper may have flood the Frowns of Love unmov'd, yet 1 can fond no Guard within, that can fupport me 'gainft its Tears. [Goes tc Lady Wronglove. I Sir Fr. Now, my Lord, you are indeed a Man. Ld. Wrong. Welcome or not, I muft not fee you thus, Madam,, without an orTcr'd Hand to raife you. What is't difturbs youf La. Wrong. Nothing. Ld. Wrong. If I can never more deferve the foft Reception of .7 Lover, give me at leaft the honed Freedom of a Friend's Con- cern, to wi(h you well ; to fearch your inmoft Griefs, and (hare 'cm, La. Wrong. I cannot fpeak to you. Sir Fr. My Lord, that tendc j r Silence tells you all. Ld. Wrong. Too much indeed for Senfe of Shame to bear. — Now, I ffcou'd blufh ever to have deferv'd thefe juft reproachful Tears,- but when I think they fpring from the difTolving Rock of feci et Love, I trim; 78 rfoLADYs Last Stake: Or, triumph in the thought j and in this wild irruption of its Joy, my parching Heart cou'd drink the Cordial Dew. La. Wrong. What means this loft EfFufion in my Bread! ana ch- ing Tendernefs ne'er felt before? Ld. Wrong. I cannot bear that melting Eloquence of Eyes. — Yet nearer, clofer to my Heart, and live for ever there. Thus blend- ing our diifolving Souls in dumb inutterable Softnefs. Sir Fr. Age has not yet Co drain'd me, but when I fee a Ten- dernefs in Virtue's Eye, my Heart will foften, and its Springs will flow. La. Wrong. Pity this new Confufion of my Woman's Heart, that wou'd (but knows not how to) make returns for this Endear- ment ,• that fears, yet wimes, that burns and blufhes, with my Sex's Shame in yielding. Can you forgive, my Lord, the late uncurb'd Expreffions of a diforder'd Mind ? but think they were my Paflion's fault, and pardon 'em. Ld. Wrong. O never! never let us think we ever difagreed! fince our lick Love is heal'd, for ever be its caufe forgotten, and re- mov'd. La. Wrong. But let the kind Phyfician that reftor'd us, be for ever in our Thanks remember'd. Had not his tender Care obferv'd the Crifis of my diftemper'd Mind, ho*w raflily had I languifh'd out a wretched Being? Ld. Wrong. This was indeed beyond a Friend, a Father's Care. Sir Fr. My Lord, what I have done, your mutual Peace has over- paid : I knew you both had Virtues, and was too far concern'd in- deed to fee 'cm lofl: in Pailion. Ld. Wrong. If Heaven wou'd mark our Bounds of Happinefs be- low, or Humane Wifdom were allow'd to chule from Virtue's largefr, Store,- in Joys, like ours, the needlefs Search wcu'd end. Sit Fr. In fuch foft Wives. La. Wrong. So kind a Hufband. Ld. Wrong. Such a Friend. Enter Mrs. Concjueflr, and Mifs Notable. Mrs. Con. I'm all Amazement, all Rapture, Madam ! Is't pofli- ble fo fair, and young a Creature, can have fo jult, lb exquifite a fenfe of Love ? Mifs Not. i the Wife's Resentment. 79 Mifs Not. Why not? If I have any Senfe, 'tis natural to have our firft Views of Happinefs from Love. Mrs. Con. My little Soul you charm me! You have a mind to Pique Lord George, you fay. Mifs Not. To a Rapidity! Yet, methinks, not fo much upon my own Account, as Yours: for his difhonourable Ufage, as I told you, of your Sifter. And to convince you of my Friendship, there's his own Hand toaccufe him of it: Read it. Hold! hold! — here's my Unkle, put it up. Mrs. Con. Can't I fleal into your Room by and by? Mi/s Not. With all my Heart. Then I'll tell you more. [Exit Mifs Not. Enter Sir Friendly. Sir Fr. So, Child! you are making way, I fee! What have you got in your Hand there? Mrs. Con. Why, young Madam tells me, 'tis fomething under my Lord Geoge's Hand, that will convince me of his abufing my Sifter — me. Sir Fr. Pray read it. Mrs. Con. (Reads.) To Mrs. Conquefl. IF you defign to make any flay in the Country , 'twill be obliging to return the Lampoon you fiole jrom me, it being the only Copy from the Face of this Globe to the Sky, that is to be had for Malice, or Mo- ney. I am, dear Madam, with all due Extremity, moft invincibly yours, BRILLANT. A very tender Epiftle truly. Sir Fr. 'Tis like all the reft of him. Mrs. Con. I'm glad to find, however, he has good Humour e- nough not to let the little Malice of that Chit fool him, to affront me,- which I find fhe has been heartily driving at. Sir Fr. In troth, it (hews fome fenfe of Honour in him. Mrs. Con. Depend upon it, Sir, he does not want it upon an ho- nourable occafion. Sir Fr. And 'twou'd be hard indeed, not to make fome allow- ances for Youth. Mis, Con. But if I am not ev'n with her young Ladyfhip Sir Fr, 80 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Sir Fr. I'm glad you have Co innocent a Revenge in your Hands; perfue your Addreffcs to her : To make her Coquettry a little ri- diculous will do her no harm. Well! how go Affairs within? How is my Lady Gentle like to come off with his Lordthip at play? Mrs. Con. Juft as 1 expe&ed: I left her in the laft Game of lofing about double the Sum (lie owes him. That Fellow, the Count, is certainly his Confederate; his going her halfs, is only a pretence to look on, and fo, by private Signs, to tell my Lord every Card in her Hand. Sir/>. Not unlikely: What's to be done next? Mrs. Con. Only, Sir, do you engage the Company ftill in the next Room, while I take my Poft. Hark! they have done Play. — I heard the Table move: Away. Sir Fr. Succefs to you [Exeunt feverally. The SCENE opening difcovers Lord George and Lady Gentle rifing from Play. Ld. Geo. Have we done, Madam ? La. Gent. I have, my Lord, and I think for ever; 'pleafe to tell that. Intolerable Fortune. (Throws down Money. Ld. Geo. The Count gone ! La. Gent. O yes, my Lord ,• he had not Patience, you fee. He run away when the Game was fcarce up. Ld. Geo. This Bill is his then. La. Gent. It was ; but it's yours now, I fuppofe. Ld. Geo. Here's Forty Pound, Madam La. Gent. There's a Hundred, and Sixty. (Gives a Bill.) What do I owe you now, my Lord ? Ld. Geo. Forty! a Hundred, and Sixty! — urn — juft iooo/. Madam. La. Gent. Very well! and iooo/. more borrow'd this Morn- ing! and all fool'd away! fool'd! fool'd away! (Fretting. Ld. Geo. Oh ! does it bite. (^fide.) La. Gent. O Wretch! Wretch! miferable forfaken Wretch! Ay! do! think! think! and figh upon the Confequence of what ■thou'ft done! the Ruin! Ruin! the lure Ruin that's before thee! Ld. Geo. 4 the Wife's Resentment. 81 Ld. Geo. Suppofe, Madam, you try your Fortune at fome other Game. La. Gent. Talk not of Play, for I have done with it for ever. Ld. Geo. I can't fee you, under this Confufion, at your ill Fortune, Madam, without offering all, within my power, to make you eafie. La. Gent. My Lord, I can't be eafie under an Obligation, which I have no profpect of returning. Ld. Geo. Come, come, you're not fo poor, as your hard Fears wou'd make you. There are a thoufand trifles in your power to grant, that you wou'd never mils, yet a Heart lefs fenfible of your Concern than mine, wou'd prize beyond a tenfold value of your LofTes. La. Gent. I'm poor in every thing but Folly, and a jufl: Will to anfwer for its Mifcarriages. On this, my Lord > you may depend : I'll ftrain my utmoft to be juft to you. Ld. Geo. Alas! you do not know the plenty Nature has endow'd you with. There's not a tender Sigh that heaves that lovely Bofom, but might, if giv'n in foft Companion to a Lover's Pain, releafe you of the Indies, had you loft 'em. Can you fuppofe, that fordid Avarice alone, has pufh'd my Fortune to this Height? Was the poor lucre of a little Pelf worth all this wild Extra- vagance of Hazard I have run? Give it at lead a View more generous, tho' lefs fuccefsful ; and think, that all I've done was in your greateft need to prove my felf your firmed Friend. La. Gent. My Lord, 'twou'd now be ArFe&ation not to under- ftand you. But I'm concern'd, that you (hou'd think, that For- tune ever cou'd reduce me to ftand the hearing of a difhonourable Thought from any Man ; or, if I cou'd be won to Folly, at leaft I wou'd make a Gift, and not a Bargain of my Heart: Therefore, if the worft mud be, I'll own the Sum, and Sir William (hall pay it on demand. Ld. Geo. (Afide.) Shall be ? I know what will become of your^ Lady (hip You may Flcunce, and run away with my Line if you pleafe, but you will find at the end of it a lovely bearded Hook, Vol. II. L that 82 The Lad y's Last Stake: Or, that will ftrangely perfuade you to come back again A Debt of two thoufand Pounds is not Co eafily dipt out of. La. Gent. Now, my Lord, if after all I've faid, you have Ho- nour enoudi to do a handfome thing, and not let him know of it. Ld. Geo. O do you feel it, Madam ? \Afide. La. Gent. 'Tis but being a better Houfe-wife in Pins ,• and if an hundred Pound, a Quarter of that will fatisfie you till the whole's paid, you may depend upon't : A little more Prudence, and a Win- ter or two in the Country will foon recover it. Ld. Geo. Prefs me not with fo unkind a Thought. To drive you from the Town, e're you have fcarce run through half the Diver- fions of it, wou'd be barbarous indeed ? La. Gent. Wou'd I had never feen it. Ld. Geo. Since I fee, Madam, how much you dread an Obliga- tion to me, fay I cou'd find the Means to free you of this Debt, with- out my obliging you, nay, without a porTibility of yourlofing more: I wou'd ev'n unthank'd relieve you. La. Gent. That's a Propofal I can't comprehend, my Lord. Ld. Geo. I'll make it more engaging yet : For give but a Pro- mife you'll weigh the Offer in one Moment's Thought before you anfwer to it ; and in return, by all my Hearts laft bleeding Hopes, I fwear that ev'n your refufal then mall filence my offenfive Love, and feal its Lips for ever. La. Gent. I think, my Lord, on that Condition, I may fafely hear you. Ld. Geo. Thus then I offer — I'll tailly to you on one fingleCard, which if your Fortune wins, the Sums you owe me then (hall all be quit, and my offenfive hopes of Love be Dumb for ever: If I win, thole Sums fhall ftill be paid you back with this Referve, That I have then youf filent leave to Hope. La. Gent. My Lord Ld. Geo. I beg you do not anfwer yet Confider firft, This Of- fer fhuts out my very humbleft Hope from Merit, is certain to reco- ver all you've loft, with equal Chance, to rid you of (I fear) a hateful Lover, and but at worft, makes it your avoidlefs Fortune to endure him. 3 La. Gent, the Wife's Resentment. 83 La. Gent. A bold and artful Bait indeed. [A fide. Ld. Geo. Iv'e done, and leave you to the moment's Paufe you promis'd. La. Gent. [Afide.] A certainty to quit the Sums I owe! A Chance with it, to rid me of his aflaulting Love! A bleft deliverance in- deed ! But then the Lot is equal too, of being oblig'd to give him Hope, my fecret, confeious, leave to love — That thought imbitters all again ; 'tis horrid loathfome, and my Difeafe lefs formidable than fuch a Cure — Why do I hold it in a moment's thought ? Be bold and tell him fo $ for while I Paufe he hopes in fpite of me Hold Ld. Geo. Ay ! think a little better on't. [Afide. La. Gent. [Afide.] To do it raflily, may incenfe him to my Ruine: He has it in his Power. He may demand my lofings of my Hufband's Honour j who tho' 'twill make his Fortune bleed to do't, I'm fure will pay 'em. Two thoufand Pounds, with what Iv'e lately loft, might mock the Meafures of a larger Income. What Face muft I appear with then ? whofe mameful Conduct is the Caufe on't — The confequence of that muft, like an inward Canker, feed upon our future Quiet ! His former friendly Confidence muft wear a face of Strangenefs to me: His eafe of Thought, his chearful Smiles, with all the Thoufand hoarded Pleafures of his indulgent Love, are loft: Then loft for ever! Infupportable Dilemma! What will become of me! Ld. Geo. [Afide.] Ah ! poor Lady ! it's a hard Tug indeed ; but by the Grace of Neceffity, Virtue may get over it. La. Gent. [Afide.] If fome Women had this offer now, they'd make a Trifle of the Hazard ! Nay, even of their lofing it. Ld. Geo. [Afide.] Well faid ! take Courage! — There's nothing in't— it's a good round Sum — half ready Money too — think of that Suppofe I fhou'd touch the Cards a little. La. Gent, [//fide.] Hope! he hopes already from his Offer: But then he offers me the means to kill it too ! Say he fhou'd win, he takes that Hope but from his Fortune, not my Virtue ! Befide — am I fo fure to lofe ? Is't in his Fate, that he muft ever win ? Why fhall'nt I rather think, that Providence has brought me to this Strefs, only to fet my Follies dreadful in my view, and reaches now, L 2, at 84 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, at laft, its Hand to fave and warn me on the Precipice ? — It mull — - it is — my flattering Hope will have it fo — Impoflible fo critical a Chance can lofe — My Fancy ftrengthens on the Thought, my Heart grows bold, and bids me venture. Ld. Geo. Shall I deal, Madam ? or La. Gent. Quick, quickly then, and take me while my Courage can fupport it. [He fhuffles the Cards.'] Forgive me Virtue, if 1 this once depend on Fortune to relieve thee. Ld. Geo. Then Fortune for the Bold — I've dealt — 'Tis fix'd for one of us. - La. Gent. There. [She fets upon the King.] Ld. Geo. The King 'tis mine. [Lord Geo. Taillys, and Lady Gen. lofes. La. Gent. Diffraction! — Madnefs Madnefs only can relieve me now. Ld. Geo. Sohf my venture is arriv'd at lafl: Now to unlade it. Thefe Bills, Madam, now are yours again. [Lays 'em dozun.] But why this hard, unkind Concern ? Be juft at lead, and don't, in thefe reluctant Tears, drown all the humble Hopes that Fortune has be- queathed me : Or if they prefs too rude and fudden for their Wel- come, chide 'em but gently, they're foft as Infant wifhes, one ten^ der word will huih them into Whifpers. La. Gent. Thus then with low Submiflion, on my Knees, I beg for Pity of my Fortune! O fave me! fave me from your cruel Pow- er : Pity the hard diilrefTes of a trembling Wretch, whom Folly has betray'd to Ruin. O! think not I can ever ftain my Virtue, and preferve my Senfes! For while I think, my fhrinking Heart will ihud- der at the Horror: This trembling Hand will wither in your Touch, or end me in diffraction. If you've a humane Soul, O yet be great- ly good, and fave me from eternal Ruine. Ld.Geo. Thefe bugbear Terrors (Pray be rais'd La. Gent. O never!) Ld. Geo. Which inexperience forms, wou'd vanifh in a moments juft or generous Thought : And fince the right of Fortune has de- creed me Hope, your Word, your Faith, your Honour ftands engag'd to pay it — I — Enter the Wife's Resentment. 85 Enter a Stranger bluntly with a Letter. Strang. Lady ? La. Gent. Ah! Ld. Geo. How now! what's the meaning of this? Strang. I have fworn to deliver this into your own Hands, tho' I fhou'd tind you at your Prayers. La. Gent. Who are you, Sir ? Strang. No body. La. Gent. Whence come you ? Strang. From no body Good b'y. [Exit. Ld. Geo. Fire and Furies! what a ridiculous Interruption is this? La. Gent. I'm amaz'd. Ld. Geo. What can it mean ? La. Gent. Ha! what's here! Bank Bills of two thoufand Pounds! The very Sums I have loft! No Advice! Not a Line with 'em! No matter whence they came! From no Enemy I'm lure $ better owe 'em any where, than here. Ld. Geo. I fanfy, Madam, the next Room were were La. Gent. No, my Lord — our Accounts now need no Privacy — there's your two thoufand Pound. Ld. Geo. What mean you, Madarm La. Gent. To be as you wou'd have me, Juft:, and pay my Debts of Honour: For thofe that you demand againft my Honour, by the known Laws of Play, are void: Where Honour cannot win, Ho- nour can never lofe. And now, my Lord, 'tis time to leave my Folly, and its Danger Fare you well. Ld. Geo. Hold, Madam, our (hort Account is not made ev'n yet : Your Tears indeed might fool me into Pity, but this unfair Defiance never can : Since you wou'd poorly falfifie your Word, you've nothing but your Sex to guard you now, and all the Favour that you can Hope is, that I'll give your Virtue ev'n its lair, Excufe,, and force you to be juft. La. Gent. Ah! Enter Mrs. Conqueft with her Sword drawn. Mrs. Con. Hold, Sir! unhand the Lady. Ld. Geo. Death again ! [Draws, Mrs. Cotfm 86 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, . Mrs. Con. My Lord, this is no place to ufe our Swords in ,• this Lady's Prefence may Sheath 'em here without dishonour. Your Pardon, Madam, for this rude intrufion, which your Prote&ion, and my own injur'd Honour have compell'd me to. Ld. Geo. Let me advife you, Sir, to have more regard to this Lady's Honour, than to fuppofe my being innocently here at Cards, was upon the leaft ill thought againft it. Mrs. Con. My Lord, that's anfwer'd, in owning I have over- heard every word you have faid this half Hour. Ld. Geo. The Devil ! He loves her fure ! You are to be found, Sir Mrs. Con. O! my Lord, I (hall not part with you ; but I have firft a Mefifage to you from my Sifter, which you muft anfwer in~ ftantly : Not but I know her Pride contemns the bafenefs you have us'd her with ; for which fhe'd think perhaps, your difappointment here an over-pay'd Revenge: But there's a jealous Honour in our Family, whofe injuries are above the feeble Spirit of a Girl to pu- nifh, that lies on me to vindicate, and calls for warmer Reparation Follow me. La. Gent. Good, Sir! my Lord, I beg for pity's fake, compofe this Breach fome milder way If Blood {hou'd follow on your go- ing hence, what muft the World report of me ? my Fame's undone for ever Let me intreat you, Sir, be pacify'd, my Lord will think of honourable Means to right your Sifter My Lord, for Mercy's fake Ld. Geo. Your Pardon, Madam, Honour muft be free before it can repair: Compulfion ftains it into Cowardice Away, Sir 1 follow you. [Etfeunt Ld. George and Mrs. Conquer!. La, Gent. O miferable Wretch! to what a fure diftruction has thy Folly brought thee! Enter Sir Friendly Moral. Sir Fr. Dear, Madam, what's the matter, I heard high words within, no harm I hope? La. Gent. Murther I fear, if not prevented f .my Lord George, and Sir 'John Conquejl have quarrell'd, and are gone out this Mo- ment in their Heat to end it. Sir Fr. How ? La. Gent. the Wife's Resentment. 87 La. Gent. I beg you, Sir, go after 'em, fhou'd there be Mifchief, the World will certainly report from falfe Appearances, that I'm the Caufe. Sir Fr. Don't think fo, Madam, I'll nfe my beft endeavour to prevent it ! in the mean time take heed your Diforder don't Alarm the Company within Which way went they ? La. Gent. That Door, Sir. [Exit Sir Friend.) Who's there. {En- ter a Servant.} Run quick, and fee if the Garden Door into the Park be lock'd — [Exit Servant.] How ftricl: a Guard mould Virtue keep upon its Innocence ? How dangerous, how faithlefs are its lawful Pleafures, when habitual! This Vice of Play, that has, I fear undone me, appear'd at fir ft an harmlefs, fafe, Amufement ; but dealing into Habit, its greateft Hazards grew fo familiar, that ev'n the Face of Ruine loft its Terror to me. O ! Reflection how I fhudder at thee ! the mameful Memory, of what I have done this Night will live with me for ever. Re-enter Servant. Serv. Madam, the Garden Door was wide open. La. Gent. Did you hear no Noife, or Buftle in the Park. Serv. No Madam. [Exit Servant. La. Gent. They're certainly gone out that way, and Sir Friendly muft mifs of 'em— — - O Wretch! Wretch! that ftoodft the fore- moft in the Rank of Prudent, Happy Wives, art now become the branded Mark of Infamy and Shame. [Exit, SCENE changes to the Park. Enter Lord George. Ld. Geo. So, I think we've loft the Fellows that obferv'd us, and if my Gentleman's Stomach holds, now I'm at leifure to entertain him. Death! was ever glorious Hope fo inveterably difappointed ? To bring her to her laft Stake, to have her faft upon my Hook, nay in my Hand, and after all, to have her whip through my Fin- gers like an Eel, was the very Impudence of Fortune What not come yet? He has not thought better on't, I hope It's a love- ly clear Moon 1 wim it does not fhine through fome body pre- fently. Enter 88 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Enter Four Fellows at a dtflance. i. Fel. Stand clofe, fofcly and we have him By your leave, Sir. [They feize him, Ld. Geo. So ! Here's like to be no fporc to Night then I'm taken care of, I fee — Nay, pray Gentlemen, you need not be Co boifterous 1 am fenfible we are prevented. 2. Fel. Damn your Senfe, Sir. [Trips up his Heels. i.Fel. Blood, Sir, make the leafl Noife, I'll (tick you to the Ground. Ld. Geo. I beg your Pardon, Gentlemen, I find I am miftaken, I thought you had only come to preferve my Perfon, but I find 'tis my Purfe you have a Paflion for You're in the wrong Pocket, upon my Faith Sir. i, Fel. Pull off his Breeches, make lure work, over his Heels with 'em that's the fhorteft way. Ld. Geo. With fubmiffion, Sir, there's a (horter and if you pull off my Skin, you won't find another Sixpence in the infide on't. i. Fel. What's this ? Ld. Geo. Only a Table-Book, you don't deal in Paper, I prefume i.Fel. Rot your Paper, Sir, we'll truft no Man, Money down's our Bufinefs. Enter Mrs. Conquefr. Mrs. Con. How now, Gentleman, what are you doing here? Ld. Geo. Only borrowing a little Money, Sir, the Gentlemen will be gone prefently. • i. Fel. Hark you, you Baftardly Beau, get about your Bufinefs — or — lay hold on him Jack Mrs. Con. Me ! Rafkal look you Dogs releafe that Gentle- man cjuick give him his Sword again this Minute or [Prefents a Piflol. Ld. Geo. And my Money, I befeech you, Sir. i.Fel. Blood! Stand him Jack, Five ro One he don't kill. The Dog his a good Coat on, and m.iy have Money in his Pocket. 2. Fel Drop your Piftol, Sir, or ("pill my Blood, I'll flick you. Mrs. Con. Do you brave me Villains Have at you. [She PreJaitSj and rmjfes Fire. i. Fel. 3 the Wife's Resentment. 89 1. Fel. O ho! Mr. Bully, have we met with you— come on Sir there, Sir, that will do, I believe. [Two of'emfecure Ld. Geo. I. Fel. What is he down? Strip him. [They pu/h, Jhe falls. 1. Fel. No, rot him, he's not worth it Let's brum off. [Ex. Ld. Geo. Barbarous Dogs! How is it Sir? Mrs. Con. I'm kill'd 1 fear the Wound's quite through me. Ld. Geo. Mercy forbid! Where is't? Mrs. Con. O! don't touch me 1 beg you call for help, or any one to witnefs that my laft Words confefs you guiltlefs of this Ac- cident. Ld. Geo. This generous Reproach has more than vancjuim'd me — I think I fee a Chair in the Mall Chair, Chair, they come — Believe me, Sir, I have fo juft a Senfe of your Misfortune, and your Honour, that my full Heart now bleeds with fhame to think how grofly I have wrong'd you in your Sifter's Goodnefs : But if you live, the future ftudy of my Life mail be with utmoft Reparation to deferve your Friendship. Mrs. Con. I mail never think that dearly bought, my Lord. Enter Chairman. Chair. Here : Who calls Chair ? Ld. Geo. Here, Friend, help up this Gentleman, he's wounded by fome Foot-Pads, that juft now fet upon us Softly — Carry him to Sir William Gentle 's, in — in — Chair. I know it very well, Sir. [Exit Chairmen with Mrs. Conq. Ld. Geo. Make hafte, while I run for a Surgeon. Death! how this Misfortune mocks and alters me. The SCENE changes to Lady GentleV. Enter Mifs Notable, [Alone. Mifs Not. So, my Plot takes, I find : the Family's in a terrible Confufion : Sir John has certainly call'd him to an Account for the Letter I gave him — If the Town does not allow me the Reputati- on of this Quarrel 1 have very hard Fortune Lord! What a mortified Creature will poor Mrs. Conquejl be, when me hears in the lonefome Country, that her own Brother has fought with her only Lover, for his Offers of Love to me? Dear Soul! What rcuft Vol. II. M it 5 o The Lady's Last Stake: Or, jc think, when fuch a raw unfit thing as I, gives fuch a great Crea- ture as (he fo unexpected a Confufion ? She can't take it ill fure, if one fhou'd fraile when one fees her next. Enter to her Mrs. Hartlhorn crying. Mrs. Hartf. O Dear Madam! Sad News. Mifs Not. What's the matter ? Mrs. Hartf. My Lord George has kill'd Sir John Conquefl. Mifs AW. O Heav'ns! Upon my Account! Art fare he's kill'd ? Didft fee him dead ? Mrs. Hartf. No Madam, he's alive yet : They've juft brought him in a Hackney-Chair ; but they fay the Wound's quite through his Body : O ! 'tis a ghaftly Sight — Mifs AW. Malicious Fortune! Had it been t'others Fate, I cou'd have born it. To take from me the only Life I ever really lov'd, is infupportable. Mrs. Hartf Won't your Ladyfhip go in and fee him, Madam? Mifs Not. Prithee leave me to my Griefs alone. Mrs. Hartf. Ah! poor Gentleman [Exit. Mifs Not. Pretty Creature ! I muft fee him but it {hall be in an Undrefs — — it will be proper at leaft, to give my Concern the Ad- vantage of as much Diforder as I can. [Exit. The SCENE drawing, difcovers Mrs. Conquefl: in an amid Chair, with Lady Gentle, Lady Wronglove, Lord Wronglove, and Ser- vants about her. Mrs. Con. No Surgeon yet ? Ld. Wrong. Here's my Lord George, and I believe the Surgeon with him. Enter Lord George, Sir Friendly, and Surgeon. Ld. Geo. Come, Sir, pray be quick, there's your Patient. How is it, Sir ? Mrs. Con. Oh ! Sir Fr. 'Twas not in my Fortune, Madam, to prevent this Acci- dent. [To Lady Gentle. Sur. By your leave Sir Your Coat muft come off, Sir. Mrs..Ci?«. Hold Hark you. Sir- [Whi/^ers the Surgeon.. Sur.. the Wife's Resentment. pi Sur. I am furpriz'd indeed A Woman, but don't be uneafie, Madam, I (hall have all due regard to your Sex. Omnes. A Woman! U.Geo. Ha! Mrs. Con. To raife your Wonder, Ladies, equal to your .Pity, know then, I am not what I feem, the injur'd Brother of Mrs. Con- queft; but {he, her felf, the feeble Champion of my own Defpair. Ld. Geo. Diftraction ! La. Gent. O my fatal Folly ! What Ruin art thou now the Caufe of? La. Wrong. Poor unhappy Creature! Ld. Wrong. What have you done, my Lord? Ld. Geo. O blind befotted Senfe ! Not by a thoufand pointing Circumftances to fore-know this Secret, and prevent its Confe- rence. How fhall I look on her? Sur. No hopes, indeed, Sir. Sir Fr. Take heed. Art fure, 'tis mortal? Sur. Sir, 'tis impoffible (he can live three hours: The beft way will be to convey the Lady to Bed, and let her take a large Dofe of Opium : All the help I can give her, is the hopes of going off in her Sleep. La. Gent. [Weeping.] O piteous Creature! Ld. Wrong. A Heart fo generous indeed, deferv'd a kinder Fate. Ld. Geo. \Jlorowtng himfelf at Mrs. Conqueft'j Feet.] O pardon injur'd Goodnefs ! Pardon the ungrateful Follies of a thoughtlefs Wretch, that burns to be forgiven : Cou'd I have e'er fuppos'd your generous Soul had fet at half this fatal Price my tendreft Vows, how gladly lavifh had I paid 'em to deferve fuch Virtue ? Mrs. Con. My Death, my Lord, is not half fo terrible, as the wide Wound this ram Attempt mud give my bleeding Reputation. Ld. Geo. To cure that Virgin Fear, this Moment, I con- jure you, then, before your latefb Breath forfakes you, let the pro- nouncing Prieft, in facred Union of our hands, unite our Honour too, and in this full Reduction of my vanquiih'd Heart filence all en- vious Queitions on your Fame for ever. Mrs. Con. 'Twou'd be, I own, an Eafe in Death, to give me the Excufe of dying honourably yours. Ld. Geo. My Lord, your Chaplain's near, I beg he may be fent for. M z U. Wrong. $2 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, Ld. Wrong. This Minute ■ La. Wrong. An honourable, tho' unfortunate Amends. Mrs Con. We have feen happier Hours, my Lord ; but little thought our many cheerful Evenings wou'd have fo dark a Night to end 'em. La. Gent. Mournful indeed! Ld. Geo. How gladly wou'd I pay down future Life to purchafe back one paft, one fatal Hour ! Mrs. Con. Is't poflible! Ld. Geo. What? Mrs. Con. The World fhou'd judge, my Lord, fo widely of your Heart, that only what was grofly fenfual cou'd affect it: Now, Sir, [To Sir Friendly.] what think you ? With all this Headlong Wildnefs of a youthful Heat, one Moment's Thought, you fee, produces Love, Companion, Tendernefs and Honour : And now, my Lord, to let you fee it was not Intereft but innocent Revenge, that made me thus turn Champion to my Sexes Honour j fince by this juft expofing the Weaknefs of your Inconftancy, I have re- duc'd you fairly to confefs the forceful power of honourable Love: I thus releafe you of the Chain i For, know, I am as well in Health a S ever. [Walks from her Chair. "LA. Geo. Ha! [Joyfully furpriz'd. Mrs. Con. And if the darling Pleafures of abandon'd Liberty have yet a more prevailing Charm, you now again are free ; return and revel in the Tranfport. Ld. Geo. Is there a Tranfport under Heav'n like this ? La. Gent. O bieft Deliverance! Ld. Wrong. Surprizing Change! La. Wrong. No Wound, nor danger then at laft ? Mrs. Con. All! all! in every Circumftance I've done this Night, my Wound, the Robbery, the Surgeon, (here's one can witnefsj all was equally diffembled as my Perfon. Ld. Geo. Is't poflible ? Ld.Wtong. The mod confummate Bite, my Lord, that ever happen'd in all the Circumftances of Humane Nature. Ld. Geo. O ! for a Strain of Thought t'out-do this fpiteful Virtue. Ld. Wrong. Why Faith, my Lord, 'twas fmartly handfome, not to cheat you into Marriage, when 'twas fo grovokingly in her Bower.. MisXoth. tide Wife's Resentment. ^3 Mrs. Con. If you think it worth your Revenge, my Lord — Come! for once I'll give your Vanity leave to humble my Pride, and laugh in your Turn at the notable ftir I have made about you. Ld. Geo. Since you provoke me then, prepare to ftart, and trem- ble at my Revenge 1 will not only marry thee this Inftant, but the next fpiteful Moment infolently Bed thee too, and make fuch, ravenous Havock of thy Beauties, that thou malt call in vain for Mercy of my Power. Ho! within there! call the Chaplain. Mrs. Con. Hold, my Lord! Ld. Geo. Nay, no refinance by the tranfporting Fury thou haft rais'd I'll do't. Mrs. Con. This is down-right Violence — my Lord Wronglove [Strugling. Ld. Wrong. Don't be concern'd, Madam, he never does any harm in thefe Fits. Mrs. Con. Have you no Shame! Ld. Geo. By Earth, Seas, Air, and by the glorious impudence of fubftantial Darknefs, I am fix'd. Mrs. Con. Will no one help me Sir Friendly. Sir Fr. Not I in troth, Madam, I think his Revenge is a very hc- neft one. La. Geo. Confefs me Victor, or expect no Mercy : Not all the Adamantine Rocks of Virgin Coynefs, not all your Trembling, Sighs, Prayers, Threats, PromiiTes, or Tears mall fave you. O tran- Iport of devouring Joy ! \Clofely embracing her. Nits, Con. Oh! — Quarter! Quarter! O fpare my Perriwig. Ld. Wrong. Victoria! Victoria! The Town's our own. Sir Fr. Fairly won indeed, my Lord! Ld. Geo. Sword in Hand, by Jupiter — And now, Madam, I put my felf into Garrifon for Life. Mrs. Con. Oh ! that won't be long I'm fure ; for you've almofl kill'd me. Ld. Geo. I warrant you moderate Exercife will bring you to your Wind again. Mrs. Con. [/lfide.~] Well ! People may fay what they will j buc upon fome Occafions, an agreeable Impudence faves one a world of impertinent Confufio".. Ld. Gee A A «t fife «• THE RIVAL FOOLS: O R, 9- Wit, at feveral Weapons COMEDY. As it is A&ed at the * THE ATRE-ROYAL By Her MAJESTY'S Servants. Facile eft inventh addere. '^^^^ ^^^"SS* ^^^"S? ^^^ ^^£W^ ^^^^ N 2 PROLOGUE. FROM fprightly Fletcher'* loofe confederate Mufe, Th' unfiniftid Hints of thefe light Scenes we chufe, tor with fuch carelefs hafle his Play was writ, So imperfued each thought of ft arte d Wit -, Each Weapon of his Wit fo lamely fought That 'twould as f canty on our Stage be thought, As for a modern Belle my Gr annum 7 s Peticoat. So that from th' Old we may with Juftice fay, We fcarce could cull the Trimming of a Play. All cou'd be made on't is but Difliabille, 'Tis loofely light, all Falbala and Frille : No Set-drefs Morals form' d itft to affright you From the dear modifh Follies that delight you. Unblufhing Vice in fairejl Forms may lurk, Nor fear the fm art of our keen Satyr 7 s Jerk. Husbands and Wives to fep'rate Joys may fleal, And mutual Rage their mutual Shame reveal ; Or more to top the Fafhion, fin in private, And mutual Guilt, their mutual Shame connive at : The flaming Beau may rattle through the Streets, And pay with Privilege the Trades-man's Debts; While Spoufe at Home, whofe Fondnefs has undone her, Her Jewels Pawns for Sharpers Debts of Honour : Sharpers, from Bubbles too, Efates may Find, And keep the Coaches that they've rid behind. Our Chiefs abroad may mount the- Winter Trench, While Grooms at Home with Wagers back the French: Parties 7 gainji Parties too may flrain the Laws, And each pretend their Country is their Caufe ; When if their Murm 7 rings Jecret Spring you Trace, 'Tis who enjoys, not who aBs Wrong in place ; For when difputed Profit's not i'th 7 way, Tou fee how nicely Points are loft by tti Opera. In /;; fhort, /lit forts of Men and Manners way From thefe fafe Scenes go unreprov'd away. From late Experience taught we flight th' old Rule Of Profit with Delight : This Plays'— All Fool, So clear of Senfe, and garnifh'd with Grimace , That zvifely it depends for its Succefs On dangling Bullocks Grin, and Pinky'* Face. But if their humble Jefls floou'd fail to win ye, We begfome Grace for Signior Cibberini. Dramatis Perfonse. MEN. Sir Oliver Outwit, Young Outwit, Cunningham, Sir Gregory Goofe, Samuel Simple, Sir Threadbare Gentry, Prifcian, Mr. Pinkethman. Mr. Wtlks. Mr. Booth. Mr. Bullock. Mr. Cibber. Mr. Pack. Mr. Keene. WOMEN. Lucinda Niece to Sir Oliver, Mirabel, Governefs, Lady Gentry, Mrs. Oldfield. Mrs. Porter. Mrs. Willis. Mrs. Finch. THE i THE RIVAL FOOLS: O R, Wit, at feveral Weapons. s ACT I. SCENE I. SCENE Sir Oliver^ Houfe. Enter Sir Oliver Outwit, and Young Outwit. Y. Out. f~\ IR, I'm no Boy, I have been at Age this Half-year. Sir 01. Why then, Sir, you have been fit to live by your Wits thefe two Years. Y.Out. Wits, Sir! Sir 01. Wits, Sir, ay, Wits, Sir ! and a very good Allowance too ; I {hall be forry to find I have fpent my Time in getting a Fool, thou know'ft all I have was got by my Wits. And canfl thou own thy felf fo degenerate, as to tell me thou wanrft Money at thy Years ? Why I never ofTer'd to tell my Father fo from a School-boy. Y. Out. You had very good Luck, fure Sir ,• pray how did you live? Sir 01. Why, as a Gentleman liiou'd live, by my Wits, Sir. Y. Out. There are indeed a great many fuch Gentlemen about the World, Sir j but Men of Honour and Fortune call 'em Sharpers and Scoundrels. Sir 01. 1 04- The Rival Fools: Or, Sir 01. 'Pfhaw! fome few rich Fools that have paid for their Ex- perience of good Company may rait at 'era perhaps (Lofcrs mult have leave to fpeak, you know) but we that are wifer know the Ufe and Value of an ingenious Man. Y. Out. Well, Sir j fince you own you have made a plentiful E- flate by your Ingenuity, I hope you will let your Pofterity Be the better for't. Sir 01. Ay, ay, that I will; why thou (halt have my very origi- nal Receipt to make fuch another Fortune by. Y.Out. Pray let's hear it, Sir. Sir 01. Why, Sir, I had no fooner brufh'd into the World, bat the firft Degree I took in thriving, was to lye clofe Intelligence for wenching,- cou'd give this Lord, or that rich Citizen a true Cata- . logue of all the Maidenheads between Charing Crofs and Aldgate~ y how many lay amonft Chambermaids, how many in the Exchange (tho' very few there I muft confers) ,• and how many at the Board- ing School. Y. Out. But, Sir, — in our Age this is called Pimping. Sir 01. Sirrah! I got many a round Sum by it, when my Father wou'd not give me a Groat Then, Sir, I was in with all the Top GameiVers, and when there was a fat Squire to be ileec'd, I had my Office among them too, and tho' I fay it, was one of the neateft Operators about Town. Y. Out. Why, this was turning downright Sharper, Sir. Sir 01. Turning- a Penny, Sirrah! I -liv'd, I liv'd! did not I live Fool ? I bulled, I ftirr'd, 1 was as bufie as a Bee, had all the World to rove in, and cull'd a Maintenance from every Flower,- traverfej make Honey, Sirrah, and when you've tailed it, confefs with mcj . ihat flollen Sweets are bed. Y. Out. And was this your Courfe of Life, Sir ? Sir 01. Till I grew old and purfie, and then I grew in Men's O- pinions too, and Confidences ; then they began to put things cal- led Executorfhips upon me, the Charge of Orphans, little harmlefs Animals, that I chuck'd under the Chin, and bound out to Feltma- kers and Fifbmongers, to make them lofe, and work away their Gentry, difguis'd their tender Natures with hard Cuftomj and 60 ia time brought 'em to an utter Ignorance of what they were born to, Y. Out,. Wit, at fever til Weapons. i c£ Y. Out. Well, Sir fuppofe I fhou'd get leave of my Confcience to refolve upon this Courfe of Life, what Security have you, that I (han't make ev'n you the firft Example of my Ingenuity? Sir 01. Ah! do that and thou'lt win my Heart for ever: No, no, that were too great a Comfort to expect thou (hould'ft gull me: Alas! I'm a great way out of thy depth, I can't hope for that Blef- fing thefe three Years. Y.Out. Since you provoke me I'll try in two Hours for all that [Afide.~\ You'll part with nothing then at prefent, Sir? Sir 01. Not a fingle Teller. Y. Out. If a Man fhou'd afk you Blefling, Sir, in this Humour I fuppofe you'd refufe him. Sir 01. Let me but hear thou lived by thy Wits once, and thou malt make thy own Terms with me. Let me firft have a Proof, that if I (hou'd give thee Land thou haft Wit enough to keep it: If not, thou art no Son of mine Then prithee why fhou'd I fup- port thee? And now thou know'ft my Humour vanifh, vaniflb, and never let me fee that uncomfortable Face of thine, till thou canft mew me a Shilling of thy own getting. Y. Out. Sir, I'll endeavour to deferve your good Opinion. [Exit. Sir 01. The fboner, Sir, the better Ah! if one cou'd but recal Youth again, what a fweet Penny might a Man make of his Experience ? But I'm too old now, and redue'd, I fear, to the lad: ingenious Exploit, I fhall ever be able to go through with : If I can marry my Niece to Sir Gregory Goofe, and by that means fecure one fourth of her Fortune to my own ufe, which he has compounded for, I'll e'en make Hands with the World, give over Bufinefs, and when I can cheat no longer, turn honeft, and fall faft afleep in my great Chair. Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir, here's Sir Gregory Goofe defires to fpeak with you. SirO/. Shew him up, I'll wait upon him in an inftant. [Exit. Enter Sir Gregory Goofe, #//;/ Cuningham. Sit Greg. Well, dear Cun'ingham f I wirti I may never laugh again, if thou art not the pleafanteft Companion that ever Gentle- man took a Fancy to Prithee go on with thy Story, for I durll Vol. II. O lay 1 06 The Rival Fools: Or, lay my Life thou wiped this foolifh Knight's Nofe of his Miflrefs at laft. Prithee go on. Gun. Did ever Gudgeon bite fo greedily ? And fo, Sir, as I told you, finding my felf defperately in love with this Lady, and ten thoufand times more fo, when I heard me was to be married to ano- ther ; I favv at lad: there was no hope of my ever fpeaking a word to her, but by ev'n tacking my felf as a miferable Companion to the impertinent Coxcomb, that I knew was dellgn'd for her Huf- band. Sir Greg. Ha, ha ! Well I fwear that was fo archly contriv'd : What, and fo this coxcombly Fool of a Rival took thee along with him to vifit her ! ha, ha, ha. Cun. I vow, Sir Gregory, your Apprehenfion is fo quick, there's no furprizing you with any thing. Sir Greg. Ha, ha ! I knew I ihou'd fmoke the Jell ; but that fenfe- lefs Rogue of a Rival, that cou'd think a Man of thy Ingenuity wou'd keep Company with a Fool for nothing. Gun. Right, Sir, but if there were no Fools you know, half the Wits in the World wou'd be ftarv'd. Sir Greg. Faith ! and that's true again ; and therefore what a Comfort it is when we ingenious Men take a Friendly Care of one another? But here comes the old Knight my Unkle in Law. Enter Sir Oliver. Sir Ollv. Sir Gregory Goo/'e, I am your moll humble Servant ; Is this Gentleman your Friend, Sir? Sir Greg. I am his Friend, Sir Oliver, and that's much at one, you know. Sir 01. Sir, he's welcome May I crave his Name ? Sir Greg. Young Cunningham, a Norfolk Gentleman, one that has liv'd among our Family of the Goofes ever ilnce I can't tell how long ; we all ftrive to have himj between you and I, Sir, he's fuch a devilliih pleafant Cur of a Wit, that fome of our Name have gone to law for him and now it happens to be my Turn to have him: Not but, as mod Wits are, he's confumed chargeable, tho' I can part with him when I have a mind to it ^ I only ufe him at pre- fent by way of giving my felf an Air or Co, till my Marriage is over, 3 Wit, at feveral Weapons. J07 over, and then I'll have nothing to do with Wit as long as I live. Well, but where's this Niece of yours, old Unkle-in-La\v, that fhall be ? W T hen will fhe be vifible — for you don't fuppofe I'll buy a Pig in a Poke fure ? Prithee let's ogle her a bit. Sir 01. You'll pardon my Caution, Sir, fhe has been us'd to re- straint ; had (lie been eafie to be feen, perhaps you had never (hen her ,• there's many a beggarly Thing call'd a'n't like your Honour, many a poor Lord that lies in wait for her, and then flap, at the firft Dafh (he's a Countefs, and undone ; it has been many a poor young Woman's Misfortune! This whets him to her. {Afide.~\ Sir Greg. O law! What is fhe fo cruel handfome then? Dear Sir, pray let's clap up the Wedding immediately : Are you fure fhe is not ftollen already Hark ! hark ! Sir 01. What's the matter? Sir Greg. Every Coach that goes by, as I'm alive goes to the Heart xof me : Are you fure ihe's in the Houfe, Sir ? Sir 01. That Doubt, Sir, fhall be eas'd immediately Who's there? Defire my Niece to walk hither — And now I think on't, Sir Gregory, you fhall give her a Tafte of your Wit before you fee her, we'll have little Sport with her. Sir Greg. O dear, how pray ? Pray let's have it, for I love Sport cruelly. Sir 01. Why thus, Sir, when my Niece comes in, you fhall hide behind the Arras, and I'll prefent your Friend to her in your ftead, if your Friend will do us the Favour to ftand for you. Sir Greg. Pfhaw! He fhall (land for any thing, why, his Supper lies in my Breeches here,- by this Light he fhall fa ft elfe. Sir 01. Then, Sir, when he has fpoken the Prologue to your Love, up flies the Curtain, and out ftart you, the very Play it felf,- how will fhe be dazled then ; how will me blufti, and frown, and fmile again, then laugh, and own her felf to be woed, and won vi&o- rioufly ? Sir Greg. Well ! Ill fay it, this will be the curioufeft Fun in the World. Sir 01. Hift! Here fhe comes — To your Poft, Sir. Sir Greg. O.lay! Now fhall I bite my Lips through for fear of laughing. [hxtt. O 1 Sir 01. 108 The Rival Fools: Or, Sir 01. I'm given to understand you are a Wit, Sir. Cun. I am one that Fortune fhews but fmall Favour to, Sir. Sir 01. Good And to tell you the Truth, I am taken with a Wit, Sir. Cun. Fowlers catch Woodcocks Co : Don't mew a Wit your weak Side, Sir. Sir 01. Hah! A fmart Fellow, faith, — h'ad rather lofe his Dinner than his Jeft. — I fay, Sir, I love a Wit the bed of all Things. Cun. Always except your felf, Sir. Sir 01. Hah! he has bobb'd me twice now, all in a Breath. But here comes my Niece — you know your bufinefs with her. Cun. With a Woman, Sir, 'tis e'en the very fame it was Five thou- fand Years ago j no Fool can mifs it. Sir 01. Mum. Enter" Niece and Governefs. Niece you mud give me leave to recommend this Gentleman to your Affection. Cun. Don't mock me, Fortune. [/4/ide.~\ Sir 01. How do you like him — Hum, hum. [Laughs. A/ide.] Niece. What means this Riddle, Cunningham? [A/ide.] As he is your Choice, Sir, I can't but give him welcome. Sir 01. To her, to her, Man Ha, ha. Cun. I hope, Madam, your good Nature will put a right Con- struction on this Attempt to fee you, tho' had I time to tell you how, you'd find it more my Fortune's doing than my Forwardnefs. Niece. I muft humour this to find the Rife on't. \_Afide.] As you are my Unkle's Choice, Sir, I give you a Sincere and hearty Wel- come : What he commands me I Shall ever chearfully obey. Cun. You heard he did command you. S'uO/. Ha, ha, the Rogue does it rarely. Niece. And therefore, Sir, I yield my Hand — — Cun. Your Lip \Kffl es her.] Niece. And may in time my Heart. [Kiffes her Hand.] Sir 01. Hold, hold, Sir, your part goes a little too far not fo feelingly. Cun> W it, at feveral Weapons. 109 Cun. My Joys are Mockeries — doubly fo I fear,- for all fhe laid might be as well the Acl: of her Obedience, as real Inclination If ilie has Love, I have a Thought will fearch it. {Afulc Sir 01. Ha, ha, Well, Niece, and fo you really think him a very pretty Fellow? Niece. Sir, from my Heart I thank you for him: Had my own Eye been fet at liberty to make a publick Choice, it cou'd not have done more to pleafe my Heart, than your Indulgence has. Sir 01. Nay then, Girl, what wilt thou fay, when I (hew thee him I've really chofen Alas! poor Niece/ this is but the Scabbard of the Man I mean for thee; but now I draw the mining Blade fhall glitter in thy Eyes, and pierce the thro'. Niece. What mean you, Sir ? Sir 01. What! ho! Sir Gregory, Approach my Lad of Thoufands. Enter Sir Gregory, ft rutting. Sir Greg. Who calls me ? Niece. What Motion's this! What Limber- Jointed-Baby! Why he moves by Wires, Sir! A mere Wooden-Tumbler. I have feen Children play with fuch. Sir 01. Don't be a Fool, I tell you this is the Gentleman. Niece. This! Fie, Sir! When I was a Girl you us'd to bring me home a prettier Hufband than this upon the outiide of a Sugar-Cake. Sir 01. Is the Devil in thee? Speak to her, Sir Gregory. Sir Greg. Ay, now you (hall fee, I'll fetch her about prefently, Madam, I I - Niece. Wou'd you fpeak with me. Sir? Sir Gregory. Speak with you, Sir! Niece. Have you any thing to fay, Sir ? Sir Greg. Hoity Toity! You are fo fnap, and fo {liort, Forfooth: Why what a Duce do People ufe to fpeak to Folks, and have no- thing to fay to 'em ? Niece. Nay there are fuch Fools, Sir, but perhaps you are of ano- ther Sort : But, however, let me hear what you have to fay, and if I don't give you a very particular odd fort of an Anfwer, fay I am no Woman : Come, come, let's hear what you have to fay ? Sir G; reg. lie The Rival Fools: Or, Sir Greg. Bibble, Babble, why your Tongue runs fo faft, Madam, that you won't let mine put in a Syllable. Niece. Who I, Sir, I am dumb. Sir Greg. Why then I fay, Madam Niece. I know what you wou'd fay, Sir- Sir Greg. What the Devil before I open my Mouth. Niece. Why then Sir, to pleafe you, I do not know what you wou'd fay. Sir Greg. Very well ! Why then I fay that a I gad I don't know what I was going to fay my (elf now. Sir 01. Don'c provoke me, Huffy, Jot once more I tell you this is the Gentleman. Niece. O pray Sir, don't impofe on me fo grofly : This is the Man, I'm fure, you really mean for me. Sir 01. Oones! you won't perfuade me out of my Senfes, will you? Cun. Now to try her home. [Afide. Niece. Look you, Unkle, I'll allow you have Wit and manage a Jeft as well as any Man of your Years j but when an Humour grows dale, you know, you fhould really give it over. Sir 01. What the Devil (hall I do with her ? Cun. [To the Gov.] I never jfaw Comelinefs and good Humour join'd before. Gov. Nay, dear fweet Sir, how can you offer thefe Words to an old Gentlewoman? Niece. Sir, if you are not bufie [To Cun.] Gov. Why how now Boldface! Is that your Manners to interrupt a Gentleman when he's private? Niece. Sir Cun. Away Fifteen, here's Fifty one's worth Fifteen hundred of thee. Gov. Why get you gone, I fay Thefe giddy Girls are fo vain there's no giving 'em a reafonable Anfwer. Cun. Ay, ay, give me Years and Underftanding, the Imperti- nence of Youth's intolerable: Come, come, ne'er difguife it, I know you are a teeming Woman yet. Gov. Ay, in troth, a handfome young Gentleman might do much, I think, Sir. Cun. W i r, at fever al Weapons. m Cun. Did not I tell you fo ? Gov. And I ihou'd play my part, I believe, or I were ungrateful. Niece. This Neglect's intolerable. [Aftde.] I will move him or remove him Sir Cun. Your Pardon, Madam I'm really a little bufie. Niece. Infolent If I am not ev'n with him Sir 01. Why did not I tell thee, Child, this was none of thy Gentleman? Now we have nettled the Baggage. Sir Greg. Ay, Madam, was not you told before, that I was the Perfon that you were to fet your Heart upon ? Niece. Sir, let me ask a thoufand Pardons. 'Twas the Error of my Obedience, not my Judgment. Pray let me view the Gentle- man nearer, Unkle, I fcarce have feen him yet, I only humm'd him over at fir ft, as Lawyers do a Bill in Chancery. 'Where were my Eyes! upon my Life a handfome Gentleman ; agreeable now I diftinctly read him. Sir Greg. [Strutting.] Turn, turn. [Sing*-] Niece. Say he be a little too {hambling in his Gate, a Dancing- Mafter will foon bring that to an eafie Negligence, that all your fine Gentlemen are fo fond of: Well dreft, ftrait Limbs, and two manly Calves, (if they are but his own) that look as if they wou'd not fhrink at the ninth Child. Sir Greg. Turn, turn, dum. Niece. A Voice too, furprifing! Sir Greg. Turn, turn, dum. [Louder.] Niece. Where was my judgment ? Sir Greg. Turn, turn, dum. Niece. Well I mall be the happieft Woman breathing. Pray Sir make my Peace with him : I am under all the Confufion in the World, to think I cou'd receive him fo rudely. Sir 01. D'ye hear, Sir Greg? D'ye hear, D'ye hear? all's over- flie begs your pardon : Stick to her : Clofe, clofe, you Wag, and don't give her a Moment's time to cool again. Cun. [Afide\ Confufion! but to fhew my felf concerned might ruin me. Sir Greg. Madam, I am the very humbled of your Footballs ,< and I wifh I may never be married^ Madam, if I am not forry foi youi 112 The Rival Fools: Or, your Sorrow: But if ever I truft that old Gentleman's Wit, to play the Fool with any Miftrefs of mine again, I'll give you leave to call me a Rhinoceros. And now we are Friends, Madam, let's e'en join Hands, and revenge our felves upon that Rogue Cunningham, that had like to have fet us together by the Ears : I'll fpoil his Markets with the old Gentlewoman, I warrant you. Niece. With all my Heart, Sir. Sir 01. Well, Sir, do you thrive? how goes your Suit forward? Cun. Soft and fairly Sir I'm taking meafure of the Widow's Mind, and hope to fit a Man to it fhortly. Gov. Who wou'd have dreamt of a young Morfel at this time of Day? to fee how unlook'd for Things will happen. Sir Greg. Widow, don't truft him Widow, he's a younger Bro- ther j he will fwear, and lie like a French-Gazette ; he has not one Shilling in the World, and lives upon his Impudence like an Obfer- vator. Gov. And I tell you, Sir, he brings more Content to a Woman with that Nothing, than he that brings his Thoufands with a falfe Heart. Niece. Give you Joy of your good Fortune, Sir, ha, ha. Sir 01. And pray, Sir, make my Houfe your own j I fee you are a Man of Wit, Sir, and I honour you. Cun. Sir, I thank you Come, Widow, now, To clo/er Converfe let's retire, And rake the Embers of Dejire. [Exeunt. Niece. So ! he's refolv'd to ftand it, I fee. [Exit. Enter Y . Outwit, Sir Threadbare-Gentry, asft/Prifcian. Y. Out. Are we all fit ? Sir Thr. To a Hair, Sir. Y.Out. And are you perfect, Doctor Pri/cian ? Prif. Ad unguem, D amine. Y. Out. Very well ,• but will .your Confcience bate nothing, fay you, of a whole Share for your Wife, when (he does nothing for't? s Sir Thr. Look you, Sir, my Wife's ready, had (lie been called, and, like a Soldier, expects her Pay, whether {he fights or not. Prifc. Wit, at fever al Weapons. j i 3 Prif. Faith, for thefe five Years, Ego pofjum probare, I have had a hungry ftarving Share with 'em, and fhe has always had an equal Share with me. Y.Out. What! Prefent, or not prefent? Refidens, aut non rejidens, per fidem. Y. Out. Prithee, my Dear Propria qiite maribus , hold your Tongue, or I'll depofe you from half your Share prefently : Tho' your Hie 85 s hac Turpis, & qui mihi Difcipulus Brains, (that never got any thing but by Accidence and Uncertainty) allow'd her Share, muft I do it, that bring you grounded Conclufions of Wit 5 here- ditary Rules from my Father to get by ? Sir Thr. Sir, if you talk till Domefday, my Wife muft have her Share. Y. Out. The Rogues find I can't do without 'em, and I muft: comply ? Sir Thr. Are you content? Y. Out. I muft be, it feems Odfo! here comes my Father. Prifcian, you beg firft - } take care you don't blunder now, for he has fome Ends of Latin, I can tell you but don't fear him ,• if I find you are (luck, I'll pop in to relieve you. [Exit. Enter Sir Oliver, and Sir Gregory. Sir 01. 'Pfhaw, Nepbeiv, (for fo I'll venture to call you now) if you have met with no greater Difcouragement than what you men- tion, your Bufinefs is done, Sir, {lie's your own. Sir Greg. Faith, Sir, I told you the word ; for I put her fairly to'c, and felt her, as far as I durft, and her ftrongeft. Repulfe was, that fhe faid (he wifh'd there were a little more of the Soldier in me, that, upon occafion, I might have Courage enough to beat a Rafcal, for putting her* into a Lampoon, or fo. Sir 01. O that's but reafonable why you are ftrong enough to break a Head, I believe? Sir Greg. Why, Faith, I believe I cou'd, if a Fellow were to ftand fair, and I were pretty fure he would not itrike again. Sir 01. Can't you pra&ife a little upon a Tavern-Drawer, or a Box-keeper at the Play-Houfe, 3 Vol. II, P Sir Greg. j 1 4 The Rival Fools: Or, Sk Greg. O no! hang 'em, they are fuch filver-tongu'd Rogues there's no fixing a Tingle faucy Word upon 'em: But if Courage were to be fold, I'm fure I have a Heart that wou d give as much for't as e'er a Gentleman that Blows. Sir 01. Breaths, breaths, that's the properer Phrafe, Sir. Sir Greg. Blows, I fay, Blows for a Soldier, Sir Sir 01. Ay, for a Soldier, I grant you Sir Greg. 'Slid I'll fwallow a whole Bufhel of Bullets, and good round ones too, but I'll have fomething of the Soldier in me. Sir Thr. Will you on and beg, or fteal and be hang'd. Sir Greg. A little of the Scholar too, me hinted ; but I told her, Learning was not a thing for a Gentleman to trouble his Head about. Prif. Salvete Domini benignifjlmi, magnificentiffimi. Sir 01. Salvete diets ad nosl Jubeo te falvere. Nay, Sir, we have Latin in us, and other Metal too: Now, Sir, you mall fee me talk with this Fellow. Sit Greg. 'Ad! I could find in my Heart to talk with him too, if I cou'd but underftand him. Prif. ChariJJimi doBiJJimiq^ Domini, ex abundantia caritatis vef tr what an innocent Sound it has — heigh ho! Sim. Well, me's taken as fure as can be. \_Afide. Niece. Prithee tell thy Matter one thing! that nothing but a dull Vulcan wou'd have Tent a Mars to be Spokefman of his woeing — What a Complexion's there! Sim. It's all my own as I live, Madam. Niece. Such Lips too! What Dalliance mutt in private grow up- on 'em ! Cun. Death! me courts the Coxcomb! Gov. Away, away, fhe does but fool with him. Niece. So! he's touch'd, I fee. [JJide.] Come nearer, prithee, you mutt not be fo ttrange ! What a foft handful of Pleafure's here! [Takes his Hand. Sim. I'll fwear! and fo there is! well! there's no refitting - } I'll e'en take pity of her. Niece. Thy Matter's Hand, to thine, is Bear's-fkin ftufPd, com- par'd to Down of Doves. O what a Pillow for a Maiden-Cheek were here! Tell me, are you married, Sir? Sim. No, I ben't, ferioufly. Niece. Will you give me leave to fend to you? dm. O Women! Women! Blind as the falfe Love you're form'd for. Death fhe doats on him! Q^ z Gov, 124 The Rival Fools: Or, Gov. What's that to thee? Prithee mind her not, there be thofe can doat as well as me. Cun. Away Bur! Gov. How! Cun. Hang off Flem-Hook, fallen thy itchy Clafpe upon fome dry Toadftool, that will kindle with thee, and burn and ftink to- gether. Gov. Oh abominable! Why doft not love me? Cun. A vaunt Sycorax / Haunt me no more! Love! the Devil! I tell thee, double Dotard, I took thee but as Phyfick to my di- ftemper'd Stomach, and now thou'rt up again, I loath thee filthily. Gov. Oh Villain! Cun. Doft thou not fee a Sight might turn all Lovers Brains, and make 'em curfe the very Thoughts of Woman. Neice. Ha, ha, ha, I think I have touch'd him now j ha, ha, ha. Sim. Ha, ha, ha. Niecg. Why do you laugh, Sir? Sim. Why only 'caufe you laugh, Madam. Hi, hi, hi. Cun. She has but mock'd my Folly fore, or finds not yet the Bo- ibme of my Purpofe. I'll try her, and may chance to let her fee, A Trick to mortify her Vanity. [Ex. Cun. Niece. I laugh to think of thy Matter now ; how he'd ftare and curfe if he knew of this. Sim. Ha, ha, I can't but laugh at him too; for to fay the truth, iho' I fay ir, that mou'd not fay it, he is but a Fool at the bottom. Neice. Well, Sir, for this time you (hall leave me, but don't you boaft now how my foolifh Tongue has betray'd my Heart : Be dis- creet and I'll fend to you. Sim. You'll be fure. Niece. If you're but filentr. Sim. O! I am mute as a Moufe in a Cheefe; or a Goofe in a Hay- Reek i or a Fifh in a Kettle- as dumb as a dead Woman. Niece. We are obferved - x there's my Hand at parting. Sim. And there's mine — Umh!-~Good by — Ah! [Exit> ** Nie.ce>. Wit, at fever al Weapons. 125 Niece. So, Governefs, I need not afk where you have been ? Gov. Oh, Child! never was Woman fo abus'd. Simple Re- enters. Sim. D'ye hear, Madam, I had forgot to tell you. If you think fit, I'll come and fee you again in the Evening? Niece. By no means, don't offer it till I fend for you. Sim. Well, well; in the mean time, when I'm gone, you may think of Things a little, as a Why I may be convey'd by itealth into your Chamber, or fo ; I'll lie under the Bed till Midnight, ra- ther than be feenj or you may put me into one of your Comb- Boxes ; or whelm a China-Bafon over me, or any thing : Ah! I can creep in at a little Hole. Niece. O ! I durfr, not venture for my Life ; I charge you on my Love, never to offer to come again till I fend for yon. Sim. Well, well, Verbum fat, as the Latin Saying is, A Wink to- the Wife is enough We won't let the Knight know a Title of this.. Niece. By no means! that wou'd fpoil all: But pray be gone, we are mfpected. Sim. Well, well, for the Things that are pad then, d'ye fee, let us let us tell no body of it, that we may keep 'em fecret. [In a Whifper. Neice. Well! now I'll make a firm Tryal of your Love: As you love me then, not one Word, Sigh, or Syllable more, but take your leave this Moment, and be gone. Sim. Um, gh, gh, um, gh. [Shuts his Mouth, as unwilling, andEx. Niece. Ha, ha, now do I fanfy all Lovers are much the fame Fools. How now, Governefs, what eafing your Heart with your. Eyes: What's the Caufe, pray? Gov. [Crying.] Ah ! take thou warning by my Misfortunes, the Caufe is falfe Man, Child: Ah! Lady, I have been gull'd with a mining Pebble for a Diamond, a very Glow-worm, that I thought had Fire in't, and it proves- as cold and brittle as a broken Looking- Glafs. Niece. And how cou'd your Experience be fo impos'd upon, to think that fuch a- youthful Spring cou'd doat. upon thy Autumn Furrows I Gov. 1 26 The Rival Fools: Or, Gov. Oh! had you heard him but proteft Niece. I fhou'd have laugh'd at your Credulity ; didft thou not fee me mock thy Folly in wanton Imitation with that Foolifh Fel- low? Cou'd'ft thou be fo Dull? Alas!, thou were't but his Bait to fowl with, not the Prey 5 the Net, the Springe, the Stale to catch another Bird with. Gov. Nay, he call'd me Bird indeed. Niece. And thou fo blind as not to perceive it was thy own Daughter, that he loves— there lies his Siege, and thou were't on- ly taken as an Outwork to the Place : Examine and you'll find it fo: Parewel I'll vex him ftill. \Aftde^\ [Exit. Gov. My Daughter! how! my own Flelli and Blood my Rival! I'll rival her: I'll ferret her Affedion with a Vengeance: A young fly Gipfie, has (he no Shame in her ; no Senfe of Modefty • is it fo warm with her already? Ah! brutal Slut, in Love with a young Fellow! Foh! here (he comes, I'll mumble her: juft parted from him, I fuppofe . Enter Mirabel. So, Gentlewoman! where have you been, pray? Mir. No where, Mother but at work in my own Chamber. Gov. What in your own Chamber too! fine Work, I believe. Come, Huffy, fpeak, and if thou canft with Modefty, what have you been doing with your hopeful Help-mate there? Mir. Help-mate! Gov. Come, come, your Cimningame, Huffy : Don't think to im- pofe upon me,- I am not fo blind with Age yet, nor Deaf. Mir. Dumb I am fure you are not. Pray, Madam, what ails you, are not you well? Gov. No, nor fick, nor mad, nor in my fenfes, nor fleeping, nor waking, nor nothing, nor any thing: I know not what lam, nor what I am not. Mir. What do you mean, Mother? Gov. I mean to be reveng'd, you Flirt. Mir. On whom, pray ? Gov. On thee, Monfter. Mir. Revenge fhou'd follow Injuries : Have I wrong'd you Ma- dam ? Gov, W it, at fever al Weapons. 127 Gov. Ah! 'tis not your Cunning, nor your Qtnnhigame can blind me : Don't I know you have the Impudence to be in Love with him, you Harlot. Mir. I am fure they mud have a great deal of Impudence that told you Co; I never fpoke three Words to the Gentleman in my Life, nor he to me. Gov. O aftoni fliing! Mir. I have heard, indeed, that he has made fome Offers of his Love to you, and if he has abus'd, or wrong'd your good Nature,. fo heartily I hate him for't, that I would join with you in utmoft Ma- lice to revenge it. Gov. May I believe thee ? Mir. You may upon my Life, Mother. Gov. Then thou thy felf (hall quit me of his Bafenefs. Ah! Child, he has given me Ixiot/s Plague,- never fuch. a Mafculine Cloud fo airy and fo fubtle was e'er embrae'd by poor believing Wo- man But, if I live, I'll have him quitted at his equal Weapon: Thou art young, follow him $ tempt his Defires with all the fubt'leil Baits of Women. He cannot freeze at fuch a fpringing Beauty : And when thou haft him fail by the Amorous Gills, draw him, drag him, drown him on the Hook of thy Difdain, and make this bafe DifTembler know, thou haft reveng'd thy Mother's Wrongs with Scorn for Scorn. Mir. This is a very odd Undertaking, Mother,- how it may fuo ceed I can't tell, but I promife you, on my Word, I'll try. Gov. Ah ! I'll warrant thee, a young W'oman may bring any thing about with a young Fellow : Come along, and I'll flip thee at him this moment. [Exeunt* Enter Sir Gregory, and Simple. Sir Greg. Why Sam ! Samuel / thou art not ftark mad, art thou? Wilt not thou tell me how my Miftrefs does ? Sim. Your Miftrefs ! Hi, hi. Sir Greg. Yah, yih! Why what the Devil ails the Fellow? Did me receive the Thing that I fent her kindly or no? Sirrah? Sim. Sirrah! Humh. Then to anfwer your Queftion, and your Language in order — Firft, I muft tell you, Knight, (plain Kmght, d'ye I 2'S The Rival Fools: Or, d'ye obferve me) the Thing that you fent her, by the Thing that you fent, was, for the Thing's Tike, that was fent to carry the Thing that you fent, (d'ye obferve me) very kindly receiv'd j fo much for your Queftion : And now for your Language Fuji, Sir, there's a Receipt in full of all my Wages, and now you owe me nothing : Se- condly, There's the laft call: Coat you gave me, and now, Sir, I owe you nothing, (my Waitcoat's my own, and I'll keep it.) But theoV- rah is yours again, Sir. Thirdly, and laflly, I am my own Man a- gain: And, Fourthly, in the Fifth Place Fare you well. Sir Greg. Why, Sam! Sam! Prithee let me fpeak with thee a little: 1 lay you my Life fome Hare has crofs'd him. Sim. Knight, if you be a Knight, ftop there, and don't fet up for a Lady-Maker; becaufe perhaps, there are fome Ladies that are as fond of making Gentlemen D'ye fee! As for the Lady, who- ever fays flie is not a fine Lady - } a delicate Creature, and a Perfon of perfect Honour, I fay he is a Poltron, a Rafcal, and if he does not keep his Tongue between his Teeth, I'll give him a Chuck o'the Chin, (hall chop it in two, and ftrike him dumb during Life. Sir Greg. Prithee Pox! why in fuch a Paffion Man, I know no bo- dy fays any other of her. Sim. If you do, Sir, I expect, as you are a Man of Honour, you fhould let me know it Any Man that dares but think of it in my hearing, fhall hear of it from a Perfon that he little thinks of. People mult not fuppofe that fome Ladies Favours are common ,• or that Promifes and Proteftations are Things of no moment be- tween Parties and Parties,- and I fay dill, whatever may have pafs'd between a certain Lady, and a certain Party, whom for fake's fake I won't name j Hill, I fay, the Lady is a Perfon of Honour, and being a Perfon of Honour, me is not to be treated but as a Perfon of Honour. Sir Greg. Why I fay (he is a Perfon of Honour. Sim. You fay fhe is a Perfon of Honour j what's that to me, Sir, I want to fee the Man that does not fay fhe's a Perfon of Honour. Sir Greg. If I cou'd not find in my Heart to kick my Shoe in thy Face, Buckle and all; I am an Afs, and no Gentleman. Sim. Kick your Shoe at me! don't do it Knight, I give you fair Warning - y I fay don't do it j your Shoe's but thrown away if you dO; Wit, at feverdl Weapons. 129 do; 'tis but plaguing your felf to no purpofe: For why fhou'd not one Man have as good an Eye as another, and when one Man's as good as another, why fhou'd not a Lady pleafe her own Fancy ? Look ye I name no Parties becaufe I really (rand all this while in the cold but when you fee me next, you'll find for a certain Lady's Take, if there's a Tally-man to be found in Europe, I mall appear like a Gentleman. [Exit. Sir Greg. If this Fellow been't out of his few Wits, then am I out of my Five Senfes,- either the fight of the Lady has bewitch'd him, or elfe he's drunk, or elfe he walks in his Sleep, or elfe he's a Fool, or a Knave, or both, or one of the three, or fomething or other I'm certain : Yet, now I think o'nt, fhe has not us'd me fo civilly as her Unkle promis'd fhe fhou'd, though that does not fignify a Fillup ; he fays I fhall have her, and if me won't come too in a fair way, E-gad me fhall fafl: her felf into a Stomach for Sir Gregory. [Exit. Enter T. Outwit, and Mr. Credulous Outwit in the High-way, arm'd. Y. Out. So, we are got to the bottom of the Hill before him,- here from behind this Hedge we may feize him. Cre. So we may, indeed, Sir; but where are the other two Gen- tlemen, won't they lay hold on him too ,• for if the young Man fhou'd refift, how do you know but he may frighten me, and then get the better of you ? Y.Out. O! they are ready ported on the other fide,- we can't mifs. Look ye, Sir, if you'll be rul'd, and travel this Road but one Week with me, you fhall live better upon't all the Year after, than the bed Preferment in your College's gift. Cre. Do you really think Co i Sir? for, ferioufly, I wou'd not do an ill thing ; but, really, my Allowance from my Unkle has been extremely fmall, and twenty Pounds, at this time, would be an in- conceiveable Service to me. Y. Out. With what confiderate good Hufbandry the Fool turns Rogue? \Afide^\ Ay, ay, Sir, you'll find this a quicker Revenue than your fie Probas, Ergo's & fgitur's, and I am fure you have Lo- gic enough to prove, that Omne utile efi honefium. Cre. That's true, indeed, Sir ^ befides, you know, NeceJJltas ncn Vo L. II. R habet 1 30 The Rival Fools: Or, habet legem. And, really, if it were not to do me a mighty Piece of fervice, I wou'd not do a bafe thing for the whole World. Y. Out. Nor I, upon my Credit, Sir: But truly it is a little hard, that when one Gentleman wants ten Pieces, or fo, that another, who, perhaps, has ten thoufand, mall be Brute enough not to fup- ply him. Cre. Why, really Sir, that's exactly my Cafe ,• and, ferioufly, I don't know any great Obligation one has to be fo rigidly ju(l to fuch fort of People, that a really -in a manner, don't deferve what they have. Y. Out. How quiet the Fool's Confcience is! — Odfo! take your Piftol, Sir I hear fome body, let's not be feen yet. [Exeunt.. Enter Lady Gentry in Man's habit, Sir Thr. and Prifcian. L. Gen. Where's Mr. Outwit! Six Thr. There he (lands, ready at his Pod, behind the Hedge — but, hark you, Spoufe, you mud bate a little of your ufual Courage in your Refinance, that you mayn't frighten the Scholar into a Re- treat. Prif. He tells you right, Madam. h.Gen. Go, Fools! teach your Granums : You are always full ©f your Advice when there's no occafion fort. Where's the Purfe? Prif. There 'tis, of the Comedians Coin, all Counters. Sir Thr. We'll turn em into Gold before Night, Boy. L. Gen. Away Exeunt Prif. and Sir Thrifty. Look how that Fool loiters now! Hey, William/ along, along with the Horfes, we fhall not get to London to Night. T. Outwit, and Credulous Enter , and prefent Pifloles. Y. Out. Stand. Cre. Sir, we are Gentlemen , really under neceflity, and hope you won't take it ill ,• for, upon my Word for my part re- ally, you'll find me very Civil therefore, pray Sir, don't make a Difturbance but, really, confider your own Danger [All the while trembling. Y. Out. Blood, Sir — Deliver, or you are a dead Man. Cre. O blefs rae» L. Gen, W 1 1, at fever dl Weapons. 131 L.Gen. Look you, Rafcals, I'm alive yet, and till I am dead, I'll fee you damn'd before I'll part with a Farthing. [Draws. [Prifcian, and Sir Threadbare ru/Jj in from behind, and feize her.] Prif. Nay, then, if you're fo hot a Spark, Sir, we mud fecure you. Cre. O dear! I am glad they came. [Afide. L. Gent. Well Gentlemen, I am in your power, but treat me like a Man, at leaft,- my Money, I prefume, is all you have occafion for, there 'tis, and all I have, indeed ; a good round hundred Pieces. Y. Out. Is this all, Sir? L. Gen. My laft Farthing, upon my Honour, Gentlemen — Pray, Sir-- Cre. O! don't hurt the Gentleman Sir, you really look like a civil Gentleman, and if I had the Honour to be better acquainted with you, you'd find me another guefs Man than you take me for, I can allure you; and if ever you travel to Cambridge, Sir, I {hall be very proud to fee you in cur Buttery, Sir Sir 7^r. Hufli, is the Devil in you? [Stops his Mouth. Y. Out. Come, Sir, we rauft fecure you from following us. L. Gen. As I am a Gentleman I never will ftir. Y. Out. We don't intend you mall, Sir, for we will bind you to your good Behaviour L. Gen. Nay, pray Gentlemen. Sir Thr. We'll only leave you on t'other fide the Hedge, Sir Here, do you hold the Money, while we fecure him. Y. Out. Away with him [Exit. Prif Sir Thr. and Lady Gen. Why, look you, Sir, did not I tell you? Shew me e'er a Page in Se- neca now, that will furnim a Man fo fpeedily ? Here's that will mend your Commons with a witnefs! You'll have no longer need to fize your Belly out with Rumps, Kidneys, and Cues of fingle Beer. Here's that will make a Beggar fat in a Fortnight. Aarum palpabile, & potabde. Sir. Cre. Why, really, Sir, I am apt to think the Gentleman cou'd not want this j for, by his Habit, he feem'd to be a Perfon of Fortune. R z Y.Out. J32 The Rival Fools: Or, Y. Out. Let Fortune take care of that ; you and I will never want, Sir, while others have it. Cre. Why, really, Sir, it is a little hard there fliou'd not be a more equal Diftribution of Fortune's Benefits. Y. Out. Mum. [Re-enter Prifcian, and Sir Threadbare. Is all fafe Bullies ? Sit Thr. Secure; the Gentleman thinks himfelf raoft happy in his Lofs, with his fafe Life and Limbs, and redoubles his firft Vow, as he is a Gentleman, never to purfue us. Y.Out. Away then Let's difperfe,- Mr. Credulous and you fhall bear the Purchafe, while I and Prifcian take fome other Courfe: At the Three-Cups in St. Giles's we all meet; but remember the Boo- ty is not to be open'd till all are prefent; the Lofer faid an hun- dred, and it can weigh no lefs. Cre. Sir, I am fure I wou'd not wrong you, or any Gentleman of a Shilling to gain never fo much by it. Y. Out. O! never talk of that. Sir Thr. Come, Sir, I'll guide you. [Ex. Cre. & Thr. Y. Out. Ha, ha, ha, where's the Thief that's robb'd I Enter Lady Gentry. L. Gen. Here, Mr. Outwit, all Fellows now. Y. Out. 'Twas neatly done, i'faith, Girl ; now to turn that Bag of Counters into current Pieces, & AcTum eft. You know the Place. Prif. I have told her, Sir, — the Three-Cups in St. Giles's. Y. Out. Good — Is the Conftable's Drefs ready for Sir Thr. Prif. All ready, Sir, not a Hair of his falfe Beard wanting. Y. Out. Excellent! The moment he has feiz'd the Scholar, then fend me immediate Word on't; then come I, in his Coufin's own fhape, by meer Accident, to bring him off. Bur, Father, you mud pay the Reckoning ; fince you are fo fond of Wit, I'll beggar you if you pay the Price of mine, Sir; for when this Cheat's ripe, Sir, you'll find it will beget another, Sir ,• that Third a Fourth, and fo onward to an endlefs Generation — You had better come to Compo- fition 3 Father, or I fhall bubble you without Mercy; you'll find it chea- pen W i t, at feveral Weapons. 133 per, Father, than this wife way of ftarving me: For I will cheat none but you, Dear Father. [Exeunt. The End of the Second All* ACT III. SCENE a Garden. Enter Niece and Mirabel. Niece. A ND fo your Mother, to revenge her own Quarrel to £\^ him, has oblig'd you to make Love to Mr. Cunningham. Mir. Yes, is not it a very notable Project? What a fubtle De- vil muft this Love be, when it can make fuch egregious Fools of old Folks ? But I had forgot to tell you, Madam, I have undertaken to go through with it too? Niece. How! Mir. Not without acquainting you with it before hand. Niece. Oh ! your Servant — Try him you'll find him flexible, I dare fay. Mir. Ay, but then how am I fure to be ftubborn my felf • my Honefty is the bed Part of my Portion, and I fhou'd be loath to fpoil my Marriage by playing the Fool with him. Niece. I fanfy there's no fear of that, for he writ me a Letter t'other Day, and propos'd you as a Wife for Sir Gregory ; 'tis in his Power to ferve you, if you can like the Man. Mir. I cou'd like the Ladyfhip ftrangely — And as for the Man, I had as leive have a Fool, as one that's fo wife, he'll always think me a Fool — Wou'd he wou'd tempt me. Niece. Here's Company let's go into the Arbor. Mir. No, I muft beg your Pardon —My Mother expects me. [Exeunt fever ally, Enter Sir Oliver, and Sir Gregory. \JVith Mufick. Sir Oh Why, now you take the right Courfe, Sir Gregory y — Mu- fick 134- The Rival Fools: Or, fick will melt her; I cou'd force her; but a Heart, you know, that's gently won is a Man's own for ever? Have you a good Confort? Sir Greg. O! a curious Noife as ever you faw, Sir Indeed, I wou'd have had the lame Woman with the Dulcimer, and old Gra- tears the Blind Cymbal, but they Tent me word they were juft hir'd to Play Country Dances at my Lord Mayor's. Sir 01. Why, then fhe muft take the Will for the Deed ,• a Wo- man muft be wooed a hundred feveral ways, you may try a thoufand fometiraes before you touch 'em in the right Vein ,- but that once found! Ah! they lye as fnug, and as tame in a Man's Arms as a lucking Rabbit. Sir Greg. O, dear! ah! I warrant 'em they are pretty foft Fools when their Cloaths are off. Sir 01. Why, did you never try, Sir? Sir Greg. Yes, yes, I have try'd, Sir, but 'twas to no purpofe : I remember the laft time I was upon my Knees to our Chambermaid, ihe run her Elbow in my Throat till flie had almoft ftrangled me, and then broke my Head with a BedftafF to fetch me to life again. Sir 01. Why, is it poffible! What did you never make a Fool of a Tenant's Daughter? Sir Greg. Never, really, Sir, I never cou'd get one to hold ftill fince I was born. Sir 01. Hey day ! what come to London with a Maidenhead, Knight! A Gentleman of your Rank, and ride with a Cloakbag ? Never an Hoftefs by the way to leave it with? No Tapfter's Sifter? Nor head Oftler's Daughter? Sir Greg. O! well mock'd old Witmonger — — I keep it for your Niece. Sir 0/. Don't fay Co for fliame, me'U laugh at thee,- why, 'tis a Batchelor's Penny, Man, he may give it to a Beggar in the Sum- mer time, and ne'er be call'd to account for it; the fillieft Wife is not Fool enough to exped: it. Sir Greg. 'Ad wou'd I had known that, I cou'd have ftopt a Beg- gar's Mouth by the way curioufly, that rail'd at me, becaufe I'd give her nothing But now for the Mufick, Sir! Sir 01. You'll find her in the Garden, her Ear mufl: reach it,- I'll leave you, Sir. Sir Greg. W it, at feverd Weapons, 135 Sir Greg. Now, ftrike up my Boys. [Mufick Plays and Exit. Well! I'll fay it, this was cruel fine! flic mult like it Now, C - tlemen, you may go. Niece from the Arbor. Niece. Whofecou'd this Mufick be? 'twas pleafant at the Seafbrr • it muft be Caningham / Who's there? Sir Greg. Madam, I am your humble Servant Good morrow to you. Niece. PfTiaw! An ill Day, and a thoufand follow thee. Sir Greg. 'Slight that's fix hundred more than any Almanack has. Niece. Was this thy odious Mufick, then? Sir Greg. Odious, Madam! Niece. Horrible! Coud'ft thou fuppofe fuch Stuff wou'd pleafe a Woman of any Tafte. Sir Greg. Tafte ! why, Madam, I did not defign you fliou'd eat it,- but if your Tafte were never fo dainty, you might have lik'd it ,• for I'm fure it coft me Sauce. Niece. Sure there is no Impudence more provoking than the dull ftupidity of a fuliicient Fool? How durft you do this! Wretch! Ide- ot! For had'ft thou but an Infect's Underftanding, thou wou'dll have known how mortally I hate thee, I thought I had enough be- fore abus'd thee; the Mocks and fpiteful Language I have given thee, wou'd have ferv'd ten reafonable Men! In my Confcience! thou devoured: more Affronts, than twenty Midnight Drunkards wou'd throw away on Strangers in the Streets! And ftill thy greedy Maw's not fatisfied! All the Scorn of Coynefs, or Ill-nature can'c fuffice thee. Sir Greg. Hey day ! why fure you are not in earned, Madam ? Niece. Oh! Infatiable! not yet content! why wilt thou beggar my Derifion ? In faith, thou'ft all I have, I've not another Scorn to throw at thee, if I knew where to borrow but Contempt, I'd mort- gage all my Kindnefs to fupply thee? Nay, prithee, leave me, now thou grow'ft unreafonable. Sir Greg, Say you Co y forfboth ! I gad I'll fetch one then, {hall jerrymumble you. [Exit, Niece. So! he's gone with this Flea in his Ear to my Unkle, I fuppofe: No matter, I know my Cue, Enter t 36 The Rival Fools: Or, Enter Cunningham at a diflance. Cun. I met the Mufick going away; but can't yet learn what Recep- tion me gave him! Niece. Ha! there's fomebody upon the watch already, I fee — Now, \Afide"\ to change my Note! Indeed, I little thought this two Days ago, Sir Gregory / Cun. Ha, Sir Gregory ! 'tis Lucinda\ Voice. Niece. But 'tis our foolim Nature to affed Ill-humour moft where mod we like ! Cun. Confufion! am I then fool'd at laft, and by a Fool? — 'Tis e'en fo, faith ; Fortune has remember'd her great Boy And I'm an Afs« Niece. Of all Mankind, at firft, methought I cou'd not bear him We never met but wrangled. Cun. Ah! curfe of your Coynefs! it never comes but like a Storm of Hail, to bring fair Weather in the Tail on't. Fair Words, I'm fure, may cheat a Man, but Biting and Scratching gives him cer- tain Hope; there's not one Match in twenty made without it; when their Tongues quarrel, their Lips are fure to come to a right Un- derftanding. Niece. And yet to fee how Pcrangely Fancies alter! Cun. There is indeed a wonderful Variety in 'em! O! Woman! 'Weathercock. Niece. I wou'd have fworn once 'twou'd never have been a Match. Cun. Fire! I'll hear no more How cou'd I dream of better than a Younger-brother's Fortune? A Maid with nothing, or fome old Soap-boilers Widow without Teeth? Go home, blind Fool, and bid thy Hopes De/pair, Or humbly fix thy ne plus ultra There. [Exit. Enter Sir Oliver and Sir Gregory. Sir 01. You amaze me, Sir Gregory/ me cannot fure! flie won't! -(he dares not do this. Sir Greg. Nay, then believe your own Eyes, Sir — There me is. Sir Of. Wit, at feveral Weapons. 137 Sir 01. Let's obferve She's thoughtful. Niece. Not but you'll find, Sir Gregory, through all this Fond- nefs I can diffemble yet; you have my Heart 'tis true, but (hall nor know you have it. Sir<9/. What's that? What's that? Sir Greg. Hay ! Niece. For 'tis Man's Nature to infult an eafie Conquest \ the Food of Hope, if frankly given, but furfeits your Defnes. Sir 01. Why, you Oones, Sir ? let me tell you, you don't de- ferve this. Sir Greg. O dear ! why, I don't fay I do, Sir. Sir 01. You don't indeed! indeed you don't. [^£ ; 7« Niece. Thus by the little feign'd Abufes, that I gave you, I now mail prove your Temper, and your Truth of Love j for if you Love, I am fure, you'll bear 'em -, I'm lure, at leaft, my Heart endur'd a Violence while I fpoke 'em. Sir 01. Are you a Fool now, Sir? Sir Greg. O, dear ! yes, Sir, I fee it plain now, by my being Co much in her Favour! Sir 01. But you are out of mine, Sir, I can tell you. Offer to fow Strife between my poor Niece and I f I cou'd find in my Heart to make her unfay it all again Good morrow, Niece, good mor- row. Niece. Good morrow, Sir, and to you, Sir Gregory, many fair ones. Sir 01. You are a Coxcomb, I tell you How. doefl: thou do, Child, this Morning? A Fool! Did you fleep well, Child? It's well Fortune took care of an Eftate for thee; for thou'dft flarve by thy Underftanding. Sir Greg. Ads heart! now I'm bang'd o'both fides. Niece. Pray, Sir, is there any difference between you ? Sir 01. Yes, a great deal, I hope, Child, as much as between a Man and an Owl! Sir Greg. Ah! it's no matter for that, I'm a Knight as well as you, Sir. Sirtf/. Abufe a Lady's Kindnefs Wilt thou take the Air tc Day, Niece? N Vox. II. S 138 The Rival Fools: Or, ~ Niece. Indeed the Day's inviting, Sir, if Sir Gregory will pleafe to favour us with his Company. Sir 01. D'ye hear ? d'ye hear? mallow Brains! d'ye heart conti- nued to your Face, to your Teeth ! Six Greg. Well, well, Lawd! why fure! — 1 have done, Sir. Sir 01. Don't provoke me another time, then. Sir Greg. Madam — you have dropt your Bread-Knot. Niece. Pray wear it, Sir ; in time a better Favour may fall to you. Sir Greg. Well, well, I have no Malice, mun, I forgive you all. Sir 01. Now, I leave you to redeem your Credit with me, let me have a better Account of your next Atack, or [Exit. Sir Greg. Ah, ah, ah, you little Rogue! were you caught i'faith! What! I was not to know I had your Heart, was 1! we over heard you, mun, when you were fighing alone for fear I fhou'd be falfe to you. Ah! you handfome Devil you, are not you glad to find me true now at laft. — Hay! Niece. Let me fee ay, he's out of hearing Sit Greg. O dear! Now I will fo pay off thofe Cherry Lips of thine. [pjfers to Kifs her. Niece. Stand off — Monfter ! [Strikes his Ear. Sir Greg. How ! Niece. Incorrigible Coxcomb! was not thy Lift Abufe fufficient? a Man with half an Ounce of Brains wou'd have died on't, run to the next Tree or River to have hang'd or drown'd himfelf, rather than bear fiich infamous Ufage. Sir Greg. Ay! you may well call it infamous indeed! it's fo fhameful. Niece. And will thy groveling Spirit ftill endure it then ? What Villainous impenetrable Stuff is thy Skull made of? will nothing pierce it? Sir Greg. Yes, yes, allure your felf, unkind Words may do much. [Half crying. Niece. And doeft thou want 'em Flint-head? Hav'n't I confum'd my Woman's Spleen to ftir thee? Will no hard Ufage batter thee? Sir Greg. Yes, yes, I know you wou'd knock my Brains out if you cou'd. Why did not you offer to do it before your Unkle, Miftrefs, I gad he wou'd have Head your Backfide for you. Niece. WtT, at fever dl Weapons. 139 Niece. Why thou greater Ideot than I thought thee, wou'dft thou have me tell my Unkle, that I defign to fool thee: Prithee call him back that I may ufe thee better, and make thee yet a grea- ter Fool— Doeft not thou wear my Favour there? Sir Greg. Yes, and here too with a Pox to you. [Holding his Hand to his Ear. Niece. If thou but knew'ft with what Contempt thou haft it, how many Cordial CuiTes came along with it, thou'dft tremble but to handle it. Sir Greg, 'Pfhafh! Pox! take it again! Ill fee itburn'd before I'll be thus plagu'd with it. Niece. No! on hazard of thy Life I charge thee wear it (till, till one that merits it demands it from thee ,• bear it, like the bea- ten Afs his Burthen, from one dear Friend to another j if mine be but fo wife and apprehenfive, as my Opinion fpeaks him to my Heart, it (lays not long on thy defertlefs Head - y I'll make thee, e'er I ha* done, not dare to wear any thing of mine, tho' I fhou'd freely give it thee, but thou {halt fweat and tremble while thou haft it, as if fbme poifonous Toad had crawl'd upon thy naked Breaft, which to remove were equal Terror to endure. Now as you like this, Sir, be troublei'ome another time, and fo good morrow to you. [Exit. Sir Greg. O! that I had but the Courage now to dafh my Brains out, Ingenuity enough to hang my felf without Pain : I'm fure it's time I were dead fome way or other, if a Man cou'd but find it out without Hurt or Danger. Who cou'd think now that a handfome Lady cou'd be fuch a Devil in her Heart? Lawd ! if (he's fuch a Fu* ry now, what a fwinging Witch will file make when fhe's an old Woman? What to do with her the Devil knows ; for if I complain to her Unkle ihe'Jl ufe me better again, and then he'll ufe me worfe, fo that between 'em both I am box'd, and banded, and fweeten'd, and four'd, and friended, and fool'd, and blam'd, and bubled, and vext, and plagu'd, and as miferable for ought I fee, as if I was mar- ried to her Oh! here comes my Friend Cunningham, I'll make my Moan to him. Enter Cunningham. Ci/n. I cannot tear her Memory from my Heart — She fticks in fpight of Refolution. S 2 Sir 1 40 The Rival Fools: Or, Sir Greg. O, Cunningham / Cun. Sir Gregory/ the Favourite! the Victor! the Town's happy Man ! Sir Greg. 'Pfhaw ! prithee none of your Jeers upon me, I come to thee for Comfort, and thou makefl: a Jeft of my Misfortunes ! Gun. I, Sir! what by applauding your Fortune, and giving you Joy of your Succefs ? Sit Greg. O! pray hold your Hand, I have been bobb'd enough already, and now you're for coming over me a new way! Cun, What do you mean ? Pray, Sir, explain your felf. Sir Greg. Wilt thou have the truth in a Word, I have been made the rankeit Afs that was ever born to a thoufand Pound a Year I'll fwear I did not think my whole Body, Cloaths, and all, cou'd have yielded fo many fcurvy, mangy Names, as my Miftrefs has call'd me. Cun. Is't pofTible? Sir Greg. Faith! its true, (he prefented me with this Favour be- fore her Unkle, and as foon as his Back was turn'd, iTie fell a cur- ling me fo heartily for wearing it, that one fide of my Skull has ak'd ever fince, and yet in a manner (lie forced me to wear it too, till a certain Friend of hers fhe faid, that better deferv'd it, and to whom me defign'd it as a Token fhou'd take it from me. Cun. O, bleft Difcovery, how have I wrong'd her Truth and Goodnefs! Sir Gregory, now I'll prove my felf your Friend, indeed! pull it off this Minute! you are not fure of a moment's Life while 'tis about you. I know the Man that lies in wait for you, and it. Sir Greg. How! the Man that lies in wait, fay you? Cum, Ah! plague of her Favour, fay I! I prize my dear Friend's Life above a thoufand of 'em Let's fee's 1 know more of this Bufinefs than you are aware of. Sir Greg. Do you fo? Then, faith, you mall e'en take it; for I'm fure its not for my Wearing, (lie told me that her felf. Cun. The only true thing (he ever told you Thank you, Sir, now I am the Man that fays, let her Spark do his worft, you mall live in fpight of him. Sit Greg. Ay, Sir! I'd fain live my time out, methinks. Cwt. Wit, at feverdl Weapons. J41 Cun. He that fays otherwife rauft lie in his Throat, Sir; for once I'll ftand his Fury, and wear it for you, Sir; Monfieur Simple may put on as big Looks as he pleafes, but I'll keep it for my Friend's Sake in fpite of him Sir Greg. Simple/ what is he my Rival ! my own Man that was, Cun. Ev'n he I can affure you, Sir Pray tell me, did not you fend him to her with a Handkercher yefterday. Sir Greg. Ay, faith, and fo I did, and when he came back he talk'd as big, and as pleafant, and as fawcy, and as wild as 2 Madman ! Cun. This, Sir, confirms what I was Witnefs of — I faw her give him fuch Encouragements, that nothing but a Woman doating, cou'd have made her Modefty fubmit to, and the Vanity of his Conqueft: it feems has run the poor Fellow diftracted. Sir Greg. Nay, diftra&ed he muft certainly be, for he talk'd to me, as if he had Courage, and I'm fure he never had any when he was in his few Senfes — But can a Woman of her Rank be fo oppo- fite to common Senfe and Reafon, as to fall in Love with fuch a Scoundrel ? Cun. Lord! how you talk, Sir, Reafon in Love! and in a Wo- man too! Why not one Man in a thoufand can pretend to it, 'tis the Prerogative of Love to make wife Folks Wittals ; and always the ftronger the Paflion, the greater the Fool ? How many prepollerous Examples of it have we about this Town, pray ? How many young Fellows marry their Mother's Maids? How many rich old Widows part with their Jointures, for Conjugal Comfort, to wild young Fel- lows, that mind 'em no more than they do their Eftates, juft take Poffeflion of 'em once, and after never come near 'em! And how many doating old Fellows marry young Girls to bring them Heirs, perhaps, of an Enfign's getting! Nay, have not we feen a great Lady bring her Stable into her Chamber, and fall in love with her Horfe- keeper ? Sir Greg. Did ever Love play fuch Jades Tricks, Sir ? Cun. O, thoufands ! thoufands, Sir, 'twere endlefs to recite 'em ; but you 3re happy in this early Warning, Sir,- 'tis well you know her, and well you've 'fcap'd her — if you had married her! Six Greg. O, Lord, ay! Cun. 142 The Rival Fools: Or, Cun. What a Twinging Stag's Head had you had in a Fortnight! Sir Greg. Five a Top, I'll warrant me. Cun. Ev'n down into the Country again, Sir, and let her find (bme other Fool's Head to plant on — Here comes her Unkle, not a Word to him of what I've told you, that may breed III Blood, Sir. Sir Greg. No, no, I'll difTemble to him as Trie does to me, faith- — away. [Ex. Cun.] Enter Str Oliver. Tho' to fay the Truth, I dare not tell him the Truth, for fear (he Ihou'd break my Head for't. Sir 01. Well, Sir, are you fatisfied with my Niece now, pray? Six Greg. O yes, Sir, perfectly, I have not the lead Scruple re- maining. Sir 01. I think (lie has taken Pains to convince you of her Incli- nations. Sir Greg. Lord, Sir, I am as well fatisfied of 'em, as if I were married to her, I don't think (lie cou'd love me better if I were her Hufband. Sir 01. You can't imagine how heartily you provok'd me, when you bely'd her Goodnefs to me- You vcxt me to the Blood! Sir Greg. Why, really I was a Fool, Sir, I did not know half as much of her then, as I do now. Plague on her. [Afide. Enter Niece. Niece. Ha ! the Favour's gone, I fee ! it mufr. be Cunningham that has it 5 how I applaud his Apprehenfion, his Wit has Life in it, I'll fend him another Token for't immediately, and by the fame Fool of a Meffenger — Oh ! Sir Gregory, where have you been this Age? How cou'd you be fo long from me? SirO/. Well faid Niece! What fo fond before your L^nkle! what wou'd Hie do in private then? Sir Greg. Only give me a kick of the Guts, I fuppofe, and call me Rafcal. \Afide. Niece. But where's my Favour Servant ! the Love-knot I gave you? Sir 01. Odfo! that's true, Niece, and I never thought of it The Favour, Sir, the Love-knot fhe gave you? Sir Greg. Hay .' Sir W it, at fever al Weapons. 143 Sir 01. What, dumb, deaf, bewitch'd — Oones! the Favour, Sir. Sir Greg. A Pox of all Lady's Favours, I fay, I'm fure they are damn'd troublefome to me! The Favour Sir! Sir 01. Ay, the Favour, Sir. Sir Greg. Why, Sir, I was way-laid for it by three or four Twing- ing Bullies, and they all fix of 'em drew upon me at once, and — look you, Sir, in fhort Life's Life, and a Favour's but a Favour, and To I parted from't. Niece. O unfortunate Woman ! my firfr. Kindnefs flighted thus! Sir 01. Oones! Sir, I mull tell you, I am very lowfily afhamed of you : what the Devil have you parted with your common Senfe for ever? Will you never come together again? — I muft feem to teize him a little — for now I fee his Heart's fet upon her, I don't know but I may make him take her with nothing. [sf/ide.] Come, come, Niece, 'twas but a Trifle Let it pais. Niece. 'Tis not the thing, Sir, but the manner of his parting with it that grieves me! Sir Greg. O dilTembling Gipfey! if I durft but fpeak now, or cou'd but be believ'd when I do fpeak, I cou'd tell a Tale wou'd make all her impudent Hair (land ilrait up an end. Niece. Well, Sir, at your requeft, I'll fliew at once my Duty, and my Love in forgetting it, and to confirm my AfTedion ftrong- er yet Here, Sir, pray wear this Diamond, and let me judge of your Sincerity by your keeping it. Sir G) eg. Ah! you know it won't be long, like a cunning Witch, as you are ! [/Ifide to her. Niece. You had heft part with that now as you did with the Fa- vour. Sir Greg. Yah! why fo I had, I fuppofe, or I (hall have but an in- different Life on't, as you have handled the matter, truly. Niece. But you muft promife me, dear Sir Gregory. Sir Greg. Yah! you coaxing Devil! Sir 01. Ah? why this is as it mould be now — There's Mufick in this, no more words then — On Tuefday next prepare to tune your Inftruments, you (hall ftay no longer, faith, Knight. [Slaps his Back. Sir Greg. Well, well, Sir, the fooner the better. Sir 01. Niece, you hear me. Niece. 144 The R IVAL Fools: Or, Niece. I'm all Obedience, Sir — Whatever you've heard me fay, —Remember I hate you (till — Cordially. [Ex. with Sir Ol. Sir Greg. Ay, ay! a Plague on't — I know your Mind to a tittle, . Now can't I forbear laughing to hear the old Knight talk as fami- liarly of Tuefday next, as if we really lov'd one another — Tho' if I am not damnably miftaken, our Wedding is as far off, as 'twas feven Year before I faw her. If he fhou'd bring it about, I gad he mud conjure ; for if he does not raife the Devil to fright me into it, I fanfy I mail never have natural Courage enough to board her. Lovers make talk of Joys And pretty Toys And Cooing; I'm fur e I only find Bobbs, Blows, and Noife In my poor Wooing* [Exit. The End of the Third A<5t A C T IV. The SCENE continues. Enter Sir Oliver, and Young Outwit. Sir 01. f*\ That ever I was born! or fliou'd live to have a Son, II whofe Face is the Fore-runner of ill Fortune! I never ff.e thee without fome Vexation at the Heels of thee. I knew there was Mifchief in thy very Looks j that before thy Mouth open'd, ill News wou'd come out on't. Y. Out. With fubmiiTion, Sir, I think I bring you very good News, to give you timely notice how you may fave at once your Kinfman's Life, and the perpetual Infamy that his fnffering the Law .von d bring upon your Family None of our Name were ever hang'd yet, Sir What a miraculous Efcape 'twas that I heard on't? Sir 0/. Ah! wou'd thou had never heard on't. . Y. Out Wit, at feveral Weapons. 145 Y.Out. Ay! that's true too, Sir, fo it had never been done; but to fee how critically fortunate fome People are! Sir, if I'm alive, he was carry'd to Juftice Bind-over's Door, nay the Conftable's Hand was upon the Knocker, and that I fhou'd (before he had power to raife it) juft ftep in to his redemption, was I confeis prodigious : in two Minutes more his Mittimus had been fign'd for Newgate, and then at fuch a Juncture too! the Seffions on Tburfday ,• condemn'd on Friday ; Sentence on Saturday ,• Dungeon on Sunday } and a Pfalm in a Cart on Monday: Terrible Tyburn Ceremonies, Sir. Sir 01. Prithee no more on't 1 don't like the Subject Where did you leave the Wretch? Y. Out. He's in the Conflable's Hand, now in the Hall, Sir — And, poor Gentleman, his Accufer with him. Sir 01. What is his Accufer ? Y.Out. Oh! a Judge's Son, they tell me, Sir,- one that in a Fie of Malice will hang a Man, and it (hall not coll him a Farthing. Sir 01. Ho! within there! [Enter a Servant, ,] Call up the Folks in the Hall 1 had much hope of him for a Scholar too! A thing thou wer't never fit for: I had plac'd half the Comfort of my Life in him. Y. Out. If you are wife, he may be redeem'd yet, Sir. Sir 01. Cou'd I but lop him from my Family, he fhou'd hang for me, I'd fave no Thief, to make the Proverb good upon me. [£«- ter Sir Threadbare as a Conjlable, with Credulous, and Lady Gen- try, (as a Man.J] Oh! your Servant, Sir you are in a hopeful way, indeed. Cre. Ah ! Sir, I am a ruin'd Creature, 'tis true but don't, ah \ don't kill me quite, Sir, your Reproaches are as terrible as the Gal- lows I deferye, Sir, Y. Out. Nay, good Sir, don't grieve him, and hurt your felf too. Sir 01. Hold your Peace, Sir- Come but once in feven Year to fee your Unkle, and then brought home by a Conftable? Y. Out. Dear Sir, don't fpeak fo loud, for your own Honour's fake : Don't profefs to love a Man of Wit, and mew none your felf, Sir? Sir 01. Dilfolute Villain? — Are you the Gentleman, Sir, that fay you were robb'd by this Perfon ? Vol. II. T L.Gen. 146 The Rival Fools: Or, L. Gen. The unfortunate one, Sir, that fell into the Hands of four Highway-men, whereof this Fellow, whom, for Manners fake, 1 wou'd call your Kinfman as little as I cou'd, was one, the reft are fled, but I may yet overtake 'em, Sir, and I have fworn to hang one of 'em, tho' it cod me Five hundred Pound in the Profecution. Sir 01. O Gracelefs Rogue! Y. Out. Not fo loud, good Sir. Sir 01. Were thefe your College-Lectures ? Thefe your Degrees) Sir. Nine Years at the Univerfity for this Fellowship! Y. Out. Take your Voice lower, dear Sir. Sir <9/. Well, Sir, what was your Lofs, pray? L. Gen. The Conftable can tell you that, Sir — the Money's yet untouch'd in his Hands ,• 'twas an Hundred Pieces when I fill'd the Purfe, Sir — but I (halln't receive it? Sit 01. Not receive it, pray why fo, Sir? Don't you own it all you loft ? L. Gen. All the Money, Sir — but I had a Diamond-Ring too, which one of his Gang took a Fancy to, it was the Inftrument of a firm Contract between a great Lawyer's Daughter, and my felf. Y. Out. I told you what he was, Sir! Pray Sir what does the Dia- mond concern this Gentleman ? L. Gen. As much as my Money did, Sir, he (hall anfwer both, now I have him, or fwinp for't. Y.Out. Look you, Sir — don't be Pert — for, Blood! if I meet you in another Place Sir 01. Is the Devil in you? L. Gen. Pert Sir! Sir 01. Are you mad ? Y. Out. What does he mean by fwing for't? L. Gen. The Gallows: If you have a mind to hear of me, Sir, you'll find me at the Seflions Mr. Conftable fecure your Prifo- ner. 'Death, Sir, I did not come here to be Brow-beaten. Sir 01. Hold, Sir, pray let me fpeak with you. Cre. Ah! Dear Sir. [Crying.] Ah! don't anger him, good Cou- lin. Sir 01. Now who's the Fool ? Was this a Time, when we are in his Power too Pray, Sir, what will fatisfy you ? L. Gen. 3 Wit, at feveral Weapons. 147 L. Gen. Sir, I expect the Sum in my Purfe unbroken, and an hundred Marks. Y. Out. A Hundred Rafcals. L. Gen. No, Sir, nor Five hundred fuch, with you at the Head of 'em. Y.Out. Blood! Sir — take your Courfe you flia'n't have a Shil- ling. Sir 01. Oones! is the Fellow drunk? do you know what you fay? Y. Out. A Hundred Dogs-Dungs — Death, Sir, do your worft. Sir 01. You do yours, I'm fure. Who's loud now, Fool? Y. Out. Blood! an Hundred Marks/ SivOL Wou'd you have the Fellow hang'd? Y.Out. Nay, Sir, I afk your pardon — you may do what you pleafe, but if it were my Bufinefs — if he wou'd not take Threefcore Pound, I'd fee him rot before I'd give him a Farthing. L. Gen. Sir, I ihall not bate you a fingle Half-penny. Sir 01. And, pray Sir, what's Seven Pound more, that all this Coyle's about it? Y. Out. Nay, Sir, pleafe your felf, if you don't think Seven Pound worth faving, with all my Heart. Sir <9/. What's that to you, Sir, fave your own Money — 'twou'd be mighty wife indeed in fuch a Cafe as this, wou'd not it? Go, Mr. [f'ifdom, live by your Wits, go. Y. Out. I practife all I can, Sir. Sir 01. Blockhead! — Sir, if you pleafe to walk into the next Room, I'll pay you the Money, and Mr. Conjlable, pray do you be Witnefs of the full fatisfaction. Y. Out. Hark you, Sir ; fince you will play the Fool one way, be wife another, at lead j don't give your Money for nothing, for its all loft if you don't ftop the Conftab/e's Mouth too. Sir 01. Dear, Mr. Impertinence, keep your Wifdom for your own Affairs — Why cou'd thy thick Scull imagine now I did not defign to do that of my felf As for you, my precious Kinfman, whom I defign'd for a Welch-P ajlor y I will now turn out like a wild Goat, to graze upon the Welch-Mountains — go will you pleafe to walk this way Gentlemen ? If I had been rul'd by you now. [Exit Sir Ol. La. Gen. and Conftable. T z Y.Out. 148 The Rival Fools: Or, Y. Out. I am very forry for your Misfortune, Coufin. Cre. O Dear! O Miferable! What will become of me? Y. Out. I'm thinking what Courfe of Life you can turn your felf to. Cre. O! Good Sir! I wou'd turn to anything that's honed. Y. Out. Ay, that's the thing, Sir. Honeft! why you'll ftarve in any Bufinefs of that kind. Cre. Why then, can you think of any other thing, Coufin, that you are fure a Man can't be found out in. Y. Out. Nay, that's not the thing neither ,• for a Man may be a profeft Rogue, if he has but Industry and AfTurance enough to go thro' with it ; if you were but Clerk to fome Suburb Juftice of Peace now — or Informer to the Society — or — it's a mighty matter to have the Protection of the Law Cre. Ay, fo it is, indeed Coufin, I believe they'd find me for their purpofe ; for tho' I fay it, I am a Man of very reform'd Prin- ciples. Y. Out. I'll think of fomething for you. Cre. Pray let it be fafe tho', good Coufin. Y. Out. I'll warrant you. Enter a Servant. Serv. Mafter Credulous, your Unkle defires you to forbear the Houfe, and has order' me to take you a Lodging of Twelvepence a Week, in Thieving- lane, and when the Servants have din'd, he fays he'll fend you Diet, every Day from their Table. Cre. Ah ! this is an unfortunate Welcome, Coufin. Y. Out. 'Tis fo indeed — I'll do what I can for you. Cre. Do you think, Coufin, I cou'd not pick up a Penny by wri- ting a News-Paper? Y.Out. Humh! Why that's a good thing too 5 but I'm afraid, Coufin, your Invention is not quick enough for that; but I'll think of it. Cre. Pray ye do — You'll bring my Coufin Word where I lodge. Serv. Yes, Sir Y. Out. I'll come and vifit you, Cre, Wit, at feveral Weapons. J49 Cre. Ah ! Coufin, you are the only Friend I have in the World now — Good by. [Exit Credulous, and Servant. Y. Out. So! This was the luckieft Cheat I e'er claim'd fliare in; of double Profit too — Puts Money in my Pocket, and him out of Fa- vour, that flood between me and my Expectation : My Father's Cam- bridge Jewel, much fufpected to be his Heir; now I think there's a Bar in's Hopes. Enter Sir Threadbare, and Lady Gentry, with Money.. Sir Thr. It chinks, it chinks j make hafte Boy. L. Gen. Where fhall we meet? Y.Out. Meet! Death! we'll never part — let me kifs thee, dear Rogue, thou haft perform'd to a Miracle by Mercury I cou'd dwell upon thy Lips for ever. U^ 2 If es her* Sir Thr. Hold, hold, Sir, that's no part of the Booty. L. Gen. What have you to do to bid him hold — Cou'd not I have done it my fclf? Sir Thr. Ay, but if you fhou'd have forgot, you know, Spoufe — L. Gen. 'Pfhaw — At the old Place in St. Giles's. Y. Out. I'll be with you in half an Hour. [Ex. Sir Thr. andL. Gen. Enter Cunningham, and Mirabel. Mir. It feems then, Sir, I'm deceiv'd! why I have been told by twenty People, you were directly in Love with me. Cun. No you're not deceiv'd, for I dare fwear you did not believe any one of 'em. Mir. That's more than you know, perhaps. Cun. I'm fure on't — for when Men fay they love without hope,, they lie. Now, pray lay your Hand upon your Heart, and tell me, did you ever give me the lead Encouragement? Mir. Now, Sir, pray lay your Hand upon the fame place, and tell me, did I ever fhew you any fign of my Diflike? Cun. Perhaps no but if you had, I might have cur'd that by Flattery j but you do worfe, you fhew Indifference, and that's the Devil to get over. Mir, How do you know but a little Flattery may cure that too ? What 1 50 The Rival Fools: Or, What the Duce have I nothing about me that deferves a civil thing to be faid to it ? Cun. Have I any thing about me. Madam, that deferves to be laugh'd at? Mir. You are the mod phlegmatick Creature. Cun. And you are the merrieft Gentlewoman. [Leering. Mir. Suppofe I really love you, Sir. Cun. Why then, if I were not very Phlegmatick, you'd be ruin'd ; for 'tis Six to Four I fhou'd like you, and if I fhou'd marry you, I fhou'd ruin my felf. Mir. Are you then really fo indifferent, as you feem to be? Cun. Are you not wifer than you feem to be? Mir. Why, what ails me ? Cun. You feem to me, either to be out of your own Wits, or think me out of mine: Now if you'll give mc leave, I'll propofe a thing to you, which mud, at lealt, prove one of us mad, if we fhou'd not agree to it,- tho' don't fuppofe at the fame time, I don't think you a very pretty Creature ; but I wou'd have you a wife one too. Mir. Pray inftruct me, Sir. Cun. Why you know Luanda and Sir Gregory are defign'd to marry one another, and have both a great deal of Money j now you and I having very little, do you think it wou'd not be better, if you took Sir Gregory, and I Luanda? Mir. Nay the thing wou'd be more reafonable, I confefs,- but how are they to be taken ? that's the Queilion. Cun. As they do Woodcocks, in a Springe: Rely you upon my Conduct, I'll fecure you the Knight ; in the mean time you mull help me to crack the Shell of the Lady's Coynefs, by wearing this Favour. Mir. Why (he fent it to you ? Cun. Therefore you muft wear it 1 find her a little hard in coming to, and have no way but Jealoufy, to extort a plain Confef- fion in my favour. Mir. Well, I'll wear it, do you look to the confequence. Cun. I'll warrant you Now you have Senfe Odfo! here comes the Knight meet me here in a quarter of an Hour, .I'll give Inftructions (that are infallible) about him. Mir, Wit, at federal Weapons. 151 Mir. Then I'll own you have Senfe. [Exit Mir. Enter Sir Gregory. Sir Greg. O dear Cunningham f I am overjoy'd I have found thee; 1 have been hunting for thee, till I'm all over in a fweat. Cun. What's the matter, Sir? Sir Greg. O Man! I want fome more of thy friendly Advice 1 have got a Diamond here, which I dare as well be burn'd as keep, and for the Heart's Blood of me, I don't know where to find its Matter. Cun. No, that's hard faith ! Sir Greg. It does belong to fome body, I'm fare — a Plague on him, wou'd he had it, for I'm all over in a Bath while 'tis about me, and me that fent it too is damnable wafpifh, I had as good run my Eyes into the Fire, as look her in the Face till I have parted with it. Cun. Ha! from Luanda ', my Life on't — let's fee. [Looking on the Ring.] O ho! my Friend, have I found you 'faith I gad this was lucky. Sir Greg. Hay! What, Dear Cunningham? Cun. Do you fee that little Fiaw in the corner Sparkle, Sir? Sir Greg. Where! where, Pray? Cun. Why there, juft at the South-Eafl End of the North Angle. Sir Greg. O lay! Ay, I (he'z now. Cun. This is that very Ring, Sir, that fo much Blood is threat- ned to be {lied for. Sir Greg. Hay! [Frighted. Cun. A Tun at lead. Sir Greg. O law! why that's more than a Man has in his whole Body. Cun. What a prodigious Efcape have you had, that this mou'd fall fir ft into my Hands? Sir Greg. O Dear ay! Well am I difcharg'd on't then? Cun. My Life for yours, now Sir . [Draws, Sir Greg. O law! What are you a doing ? Cun. What a Man of Prudence mou'd do, Sir — ftand upon my Guard while I have it about me kt him come to my Face, I dare the Kafcal. Sir 1 52 The Rival Fools: Or, Sir Greg. Well ! what a Comfort 'tis to have a Friend behind ones Back : I fwear, Dear Cunningham, I am almofl: afham'd to fee thee venture thy Life thus for me: Ods-heart! my Blood rifes to fee thy Courage. Od ! I'll draw, and (land by thee, tho 5 I fright my felf never lb much for't. Cun. By no means, Sir: More than One to One's a difhonour- able Feat. Sir Greg. I'my Confcience I (hall owe my Life to thee. Cun. You over-rate my Service, Sir — tho' I own I have been thinking of a Thing that wcu'd really deferve your Thanks. Sup- pofe, Sir, I fhou'd get your Miftrefs for you? Sir Greg. Ah! Dear Friend, there I'm afraid thy good Will's bigger than thy Wit. Cun. Why does (lie abufe you (till, Sir? Sir Greg. O mod damnably! Every time worfe than other: And yet that old Fool, Sit Oliver, thinks as confidently the Day holds on Tuefclay, as if {he did not wim me at the Devil : Sir, fhe's Co fami- liarly us'd to call me Names, that, I believe, in the very Church Ceremony, flie'd fay, /, fuch a one, take thee Rogue, to be my ived- ded Rafcal. Cun. Well, Sir, dare you leave all to me yet? Sit Greg. Faith that's juft leaving nothing to thee for I have no more hopes of her, than a Drummer has of a Regiment — I may put her in mind of her Duty, but I fhall never command her. Cun. I'll warrant you, Sir, I have a Device (hall contract her to you whether (he will or no, and that when (lie leafl: thinks on't. Sir Greg. That's the only way, indeed ? for if ever (he thinks on't, you'll as foon perfuade a Bear to the Stake, or a Gaming Lord to wave his Privilege to a Tradefman. Cun. She feems kind in publick, at leafl:? Sir Greg. O law! yes, Sir, before Company fhe'll wheedle, coax, and lie, like a Mifs to her Keeper j but in private Hie is as wild, as fierce and curft as a Cat in a Garret. Cun. Still the greater will my Friendlhip prove look you, Sir, here's a Letter, which I had juft writ to her in your behalf, give it your felf, and if you don't immediately find an Abatement of her Severity to you, fay I have deceiv'd you. 6 Sir Wit, at feveral Weapons. 153 Sir Greg. I'll give it her this Minute and if thou makefl: thy Words good, I'll give it under my Hand, that haft more Wit than a Conjurer [Exit. Cun. Ha, ha, how greedily the Gudgeon gobbles a Cheat. [Enter Mirabel.] O! you are come in time. Mir. Well, Sir, whatfuccefs? Cun. Follow the Knight, watch himclofe; you'll fee him give a Letter prefently from me to the Lady ; when fhe has read it, do you enter, and alk him if he has not one for you, which, as he well may, he'll certainly deny; no matter, do you affirm he has, and from that Hint work up her Jealoufie ,• yet feem fearful of difcover- ing Names, till you arTecl: a Prudence in retiring. Mir. What a malicious Creature do you make me ? Cun. What a Saint wou'd you make your felf now ? Can you make me believe you don't a little naturally hate a Woman that has faid you have a Face as brown, and rough as a French-Roll j and tho' you have been beating-up for a Hufband thefe two Years; yet you have not raU'd one Man, that wou'd ever put you to the Queltion. Mir. Did you hear her fay fo? Cun. And ten People more, at the fame time. Mir. Better be beating-up for a Hufband, than beaten-down to the Price of the firfr. Man that does afk her the Queftion, as (he is by you, Sir? Poor fpiteful Animal? [Afide. Cun, Look-ye, Madam, the more liberty you take with her, the fooner you finifh my Project, and give me leifure to bring your's to perfection. Mir. I (hall return the Liberties me takes, I believe. Cun. The way's before you. Mir. A French Roll! Hah, hah. [Exit. Cun. So! (he's in fine order for my Buimefs, which, barring the Devil's fteppingin between, I think can't fail Hey-day! What have we here! Another Fool, the very Spawn of his Mafter, and, if poffible, more ridiculous. Enter Simple, fantaftically drefi. Sim. Sir, I am your obedient humble Servant, Pray, Sir, can you do me the Favour to inform me how the Party does? Vo l. II, U Cm, j 54- Tlie Rival Fools: Or, Cun. The Party! He takes me for a Scrivener fure Pray, Sir, which of the Parties do you mean ? Sim. Excufe me, Sir, I name no Names but I am under fome Obligations to a certain Party, and wou'd willingly bring Matters to a conclufion, but, really, I don't find that I have heard from 'em. Cun. Oh ! upon my Life, I know her. Sim. Not from me, Sir, you don't hear me name her; know what you can, talk a whole Day with me, you'll be ne'er the wifer, you'll find nothing come from me, Sir. Cun. I dare fay, Sir, no body will expect it ; but, really, you are fo remarkably Honourable in your Amour, that all the World talks of your Secrecy, I mean to Sir Olivet's Niece, Sir. Sim. Sir, you aftonifh me! I thought all the World had known her Name was a Secret. Cun. That's the Reafbn fo many People whifper it, Sir. Sim. Well, Sir, they can't fay it came from my Lips, however : But, Sir I have been inform'd in my late retir'd Walks, 'twixt Pa- rtington and Pancra/s, that there have been certain Favours and To- kens fent me from the Party, (whom, you can witnefs, I never nam'dj and thefe Tokens, Sir, really, have never come near me. Cun. How! Pray, Sir, what were the Tokens? Sim. A Love-Knot, and a Diamond, Sir — really, the thing is not well — I am apprehenfive of fome difhonourable Practice againft me. Cun. Sir, your Apprehenfion's good, and if you'll take my Word, Sir Gregory is the Man that wrongs you,- mere Spite and Envy of your fuccefs with his Miftreis: For when you were at Padington, he intercepted the Gifts at Pancrafs. Sim. Traytor! His Miftrefs too! Poor Animal! He had never known what it was to appear like a Gentleman, but that I fome- times, in pure Friendmip, us'd to drefs him Sir, do you think I ought not to demand the Combat of him? Cun. 'Troth the Wrong deferves it, Sir, but if you cou'd be re- veng'd of him without that Hazard, wou'd it not be better? Sim. Sir, I fear no Hazard, where the Honour of the Party is concern'dj befides I know him to be a rank Coward. Cun. Wit, at feveral Weapons. 155 Cun. Nay, then a Man might venture: But how will the Lady bear the Apprehenfion of your Danger? Sim. Why, really, that gives me fome Concern : And 'tis poffi- ble the Fright might kill herj therefore I don't know if a private Revenge wou'd not do the Thing altogether as well. Pray, Sir, what was your Propofal? Cun. Why thus, Sir, I have already promis'd to contract him to Mrs. Luanda, your Miftrefs, by a Device • now when he thinks he has bobb'd you of the Lady, you fhall ftand behind the Arras, and be a W T itnefs of his being bobb'd, by my putting a falfe Lady upon him. Sim. Sir, deftroy me, but this wou'd make me laugh immode- rately. Cun. We'll fobb him, Sir, here's my Hand on't. Sim. Sir, no Perfon alive wou'd be more tranfported to fee him well fobb'd, than my felf : But now you talk of Fobbing, Sir, really 1 muft tell you, I begin to wonder why the Lady does not fend for me, as well as to me, according to her Word of Honour ; for, I proteft, I have kept out of Town (to keep my Word) thefe two Days, on purpofe to be fent for : And, really, upon my Credit Look you, not to make a Jed of the Thing, Sir 1 am almoft ftarv'd with walking. Cun. O! Walking gets a Stomach, Sir? Sim. Ay, but then it gets one no Provifions, Sir ; not but I have had a Stomach too, but then I loft it again, and got it again, as often, Sir, as a Man iriall get and lofe the fight of Paul's, in a Walk to Cbelfea. Cun. Why don't you go to her your felf, Sir? Sim. Sir, there's a Trifle call'd a Vow has pafs'd between us to the contrary, which renders the Thing impoffible : But, Sir, ihall I beg the Favour of you, if you meet the Lady's Footman running before her empty Coach, in an Orange-tauny-Livery, that you wou'd direcl: him and the Horfes now to lJlmgton y for I can't but think fhe will fend for me yet. Cun. Sir, I'll certainly do it You are going thither? Sim. This very Minute, Sir, and mall not return till fent for; and U 2 there 1 56 The Rival Fools: Or, there he'll certainly find me, looking upon the Pipes, and Whittling. [Exit. Cim. Ha, ha. A pretty Amufement for a Lover, truly, tho' I think there's but little difference in the beft of us. But now to my ©v/n Affair Enter Niece, and Sir Gregory. Niece. A Letter for me! 'tis impoffible! no body of common Senfe cou'd fuppofe I'd receive it from thy Hands Why wilt thou follow me, to provoke me ftill to abufe thee? Sir Greg. Look-ye, Forfooth, don't you be too huffy neither, lead upon reading that Letter you fhou'd find reafon to think better ©f me, and then look like a Fool for all the confident things, you iiave faid, and done to me. Niece. Prithee, Dear Ideot, don't have fo much Aflurance — is it not enough I do thee the Grace to receive this from thy Hands, (a thing that almoft makes me fick to do) but you muft talk too? Sir Greg. Well, well, Mrs. Frumps y do you read the Letter pray, and then your Tongue will run to another Tune, I believe. Niece. Stand away farther farther yet you ill-manner'd Changling — did not you fee I was going to read it? Sir Greg. Oh! oh! I may ftay in your fight at leaft,- you did not safe to endure me in the lame Room : The very Superfcription has done fome good upon you, I fee. Niece. Ha! 'tis Cunningham's Hand! but what an odd Direction 'tis — To the Fair eft in the Family — I think I may venture to take it to my felf without Vanity — I wrong his Wit to doubt it. How plea- fant 'tis to make this Fool the mutual MelTenger of our amorous Se- crets, and his own Difquiet. [Afide. Six Greg. O ho! {he nodds at me already: Ah! it will all come in time. Niece. Is it potfible thou canfi: laugh yet? Iwou'd have undertook to have kill-'d a Spider with lefs Venom than I have fpit at thee. Sir Greg. 'Prtiaw ! I don't mind you now, Mun. Read your Let- ter will you? Niece. Wit, at feveral Weapons. J57 Niece. Back then, Owl's-Face [Reads.] Take it as a Proof of Love, that for your fake I mortify another's Vanity: A Folly that needs but little Art to flatter it, and yet if rightly us'd, may ferve Sir 01. [Within.] My Niece? why there me is, in the next Room. Niece. Ha! my Unkle's coming! — Sir Gregory/ why do you keep that Diftance! you did not ufe to be Co ftrange! Sir Greg. Ah, ah, ah, your Servant, forfooth, what is your proud Stomach come down then ? And now, Madam, I have a Word or two to throw in your Ear look you, Madam, in the firft place 1 Niece. He don't come yet; why thou faucy IiTue of fome march- ing Grenadier! how dareft thou offer to come near me, tho' I call'd thee j I'll make thee know, that to obey's as criminal as to contradict me. Sir Greg. Ads hafli, Madam! you'll find I won't take things as I have done; I'll contradict you in fpite of your Teeth, and obey you to plague you, and you (hall obey me, tho' I plague my felf; for I'll marry you whether you will or no ,• nay, tho' I have no mind to it my felf: Only for the Tricks fake, I'll trick, Madam, and make you as miferable a Wife, as you wou'd me an horrible Hus- band ,• and there's the Refolution of a provok'd Lover, that in pure Revenge will throw himfelf away upon you. [Going.. Neice. The Fool begins to talk Reafon. Enter Mirabell. Mir. Sir Gregory, your Servant! pray, Sir, have you no Letter for me? Sir Greg. Not I, Madam 1 brought one from Mr. Cunnin- gham to Mrs. Miferable there, that (hall be, and fo your Servant. [Exit. Mir. I am afraid, Madam, Sir Gregory has made a Miftake, and has given you my Letter. Niece. Ha! what do I fee! the very Favour I fent him, I am confounded — but will feerrr as unconcern'd as (lie. [Afide.] You have a mighty pretty. Ribon here The very fame — Pray where might you buy it?. 4 Mir.. 158 The Rival Fools: Or, Mir. Really, Madam, I don't know — I was only defir'd by a Friend to wear it But had you any Letter tho'? Niece. Yes— I vow its very pretty — Tome Lover's Prefent, I pre- sume. Mir. One, that wou'd have me think he's a Lover But pray, Madam, was not there Tome Miftake in that Letter? Niece. My Heart's too full to anfwer her I'll give it her, and feem ignorant of all — O dear, yes, he gave me a Letter, I cou'd not imagine from whom 1 have open'd it too, and if you had not come, was juft a going to read it. Mir. Nay, there's no harm, Madam. [Reads to herfelf. Niece. Can he then be the Villain that he feems ? He is — The Subject of the Letter too confirms him fo! Where's all my Pride of Spirit now, that ought to tear him from my Heart? Abus'd, and made the Stale, the Property of another's Hope! Confufion! how fhe fmiles in Triumph o'er my Folly f Cunningham at the Door. Cun. So! my Mine fucceeds I fee! the Train has taken ; 'twill bounce anon. Mir. Ha, ha, ha. Niece. O Torture! to my Face! fure (lie dares not own her Trea- chery. Your Letter feems to pleafe you, Madam. Mir. Yes, truly, I can't but laugh to think how fome Peoples Vanity expofes 'em ,• and how ridiculoufly Women of little or no Beauty will rail at thofe, that really have it. Niece. Has any Body rail'd at you, Madam? Mir. Um — a little! My Features did not pleafe 'em it feems. My Face was only a French Roll or fo Ha, ha, ha. Niece. Ha! the very Words I faid to Cunningham / betray me too! Mir. And yet the" Perfon that they thought liked theirs better, is Fool enough, it feems to find fomething in my Face, that they have not,- poor Creature! ha, ha, ha. Niece. He's here! he dares not own it fure. Cunningham Wit, at feveral Weapons. i 59 Cunningham Enters. Curt. I hope, Madam, you receiv'd my Letter. [To Mir. Mir. I had this Moment read it, Sir. Niece. Nay then he dares be any thing The Proof's too plain. Cun. And may I flatter my felf that my Expectation's anfwer'd. Mir. If that Ladies Uneafinefs is any Evidence you may. Ctm. Then you think I may laugh fecurely? Mir. Ay, and heartily! ha, ha, ha. Ctm. Ha, ha, ha. Niece. Ungrateful! perjur'd Wretch! Cun. Madam! Niece. O! thou haft wrong'd the tendered Heart that ever liften'd to the faithlefs Vows of Man. Cun. I had little Reafon to think fo from the Encouragement I faw you give two Fools before my Face. Niece. I learnt from thee before that fervile Artifice of DiflTem- bling : But tell me ! was I then credulous and vain, to think your Vows fincere? O! I had fill'd the Meafure of my Hopes in thee, my Duty, Intereft, Friends, and Fortune, not confider'd, when they luppos'd Fidelity demanded 'em. Cun. Suppofe me then no more the Thing I feem'd; but as your Heart, your Hopes, and tend'reft Wifties wou'd create me, yours fincere, and only yours. I knew there was no other Way at once to give my Hopes a Certainty — But this, this innocent Deceit of feeming Falfe to ftir your Jealoufie; and if you don't applaud the Stratagem, you wrong the Heart you now complain'd of. Niece. Is't poflible ? Mir. Ev'n Co indeed, Madam, and if you don't pardon my Part of the Jeft we made of you I'll fwear you'll allow no Body Wit but your felf. Niece. Well! you have fool'd me fairly j but howl (hall make you amends Cun. That's eafdy done; you (hall make me a Hu/band, and I have engag'd Sir Gregory mail make her another; when I am a little re- 4 cover'd i6o The Rival Fools: Or, cover'd from the Surprize of my own good Fortune, I'll tell you how. Thus the? adcr'd, the Fair one falfly Coy y That wou'd with Doubts the Lover's Hope deflroy, Once touch' d with Jealoufy confirms his Joy. [Exeuiet. The End of the Third Aft. A C T V. SCENE Cunninghams Lodgings. Enter Cunningham, T. Outwit, Prifcian and Sir Threadbare. Cun. "V7 Ou'll pardon me, dear Outwit, that I did not before truft you with my Defign upon your Coufin Lucinda ,• but fince you have told me how I may ferve you in this new Attempt upon your Father, I have not now the lead Fear or Doubt re- maining. Y. Out. Faith, I can't blame your Caution, in fo critical a Point, but I am glad I have it in my Power to ferve you, not only for our old Acquaintance fake, but the Pleafure too of biting my Father ; nay, I'll make him pay the very Mufick to your Wedding: Is the Confort ready, Knight? Sir7#/\ Oh, Sir! we are half the Confort our felves,- we two are the Tabor, and Pipe, that mud make his Purfe dance out of his Pocket. Pr'tf. Yes, Sir, you'll find us, 8f cantare pares, &f refpondere parati. Y. Out. Say you fo, my Lads •> faith, we'll fing Harveft Home with a melodious Horn- Pipe. Sir Thr. My Wife has engag'd to bring the Ladies. Y.Out. And I'll undertake the young Coxcombs mail follow 'em. Sir Thr. But 'tis time, Gentlemen, we were tuning our Inftru- ments. Y. Out. Let's away from the back Door. Adieu. Prif. Wit, at fever al Weapons. i 6 i Pi if. Fiflnla dtdce canit volncres dam dec'tp'tt aticeps. [Exit T. Out. Sit Thr. and Prif Enter Servants with a Banquet. Cun. So! very well — Reach me the black Gown -Are none of the Guefts come yet ? Serv. Yes, Sir, I believe there's one below in the Parlor now. Curt. What is he? Serv. Really, Sir, I can't be pofitive,- but I fufpecl: him to be a Fool, that fome Pawn-broker's old Fafhion Cloaths have made half a Gentleman : I think he faid his Name was Simple. Cun. The very Perfon I wanted, (hew him up immediately. Serv. He's here, Sir. Cun. Ah! Monfieur Simple/ moft opportunely welcome! you are come in the very Crifis of your Revenge, I expect Sir Gregory every Minute! Well, how is it? Sim. Perifh me, Sir, if I am not in a very untoward Condition, for between Love, and Cold, and Hunger, and one thing or other I am really almoft ftarv'd, Sir, Pray, Sir, has not this unkind Lady fent for me yet? Cun. Truly, not that I hear, Sir! I fanfy there's fome unfriendly MefTenger employ'd between you. Sim. Why then it muft be fo,- for in all Appearances, I'm pofi- tive the Lady muft be a Perfon of Honour -, and cou'd not have fo little Wit, as to think to make a Fool of me. But really I was never fo cold fince my firft. peeping into the World ; that River is excefiive bleak, and in my Confcience, I have been feven Mile in length upon the Banks of it; where really, Sir, I believe I have not feen lefs than Five thoufand Sticklebacks. And I am really of Opi- nion, that there are Gudgeons too Miller's Thumbs I faw in vaft Quantities, I believe I told above fourfcore I'll make a little bold with your Sweat-Meats. Cun. And welcome, Sir. Sim. 'Tis ftrange now, I have really no Tafte in any thing. Cun. O! Love, Sir, diftracts every thing but it felf. [Servant zvhifpers.} Udfo! I have News for you. Sim. For me! what is it for this Plumb's fake? • Vol. II. X Cun. 162 The Rival Fools: Or, Cun. Nay, hear me, Sir. Sim. I'll warrant you, Sir, I have two Ears to one Mouth, I hear more than I eat, Sir- Cun. Sir Gregory's come, and you fhall fee him fobb'd imme- diately. Sim. No! that wou'd be an immoderate Pleafure. Cun. Stand unfeen there but two Minutes, and I'll find an oppor- tunity to call you in and place you at the Table with the Lady I defign to fham upon him. Sim. Sir cou'd not I drink firft? Cun. By and by, I'll put her Health to you Here he comes, away. Enter Sir Gregory. Sir Gregory/ Your moft faithful humble Servant. This is indeed the greateft Honour was ever done to my poor Habitation. Sir Greg. Phoo! prithee pox of Compliments, Man, I'll do thee this Houour every Day of the Week when I'm married, but my Head's upon other things now - } for to tell you the truth, I am up to the Ears in Love and Spite. Cun. St! the Lady's in the next Room if fhe fhou'd hear you all's unravell'd. Sir Greg. Ad ! 'twas well you told me ; for I was juft going to baul out how terribly I fhou'd laugh at her, when I have got her whether me will or no. Cun. Oh ! but don't ufe her too feverely neither. Sir Greg. No, no, I'll only vex her a little, or Co. Cun. Hang it ev'n forgive her all. Sir Greg. No, faith ! I mud crab her, (he muft be Vinegar'd ! I long dearly to fetch a little Verjuice out of her ; for you know fhe has been damnable fawcy to me. Cun. O ! you'll foon tame her. Sir Greg. So I will, faith, for before I bed her, I'll very fairly fee her Legs tied to the bottom Ports, her Hands to the Head-board, and a Gag in her Mouth, that fhe may neither kick, bite, baul, fcratch, nor run away. Cun. For all this, I fhall fee you and your Lady live as quietly as two Tortoifes. Sir W i t, at feveral Weapons. 163 Sir Greg. Nay it's all one to me, whether we do or no ,• (he may be a Tortoife, for ought I know at the bottom, but hitherto, I am fure, 1 have feen nothing of it in her, but a damn'd thick Shell. Cun. Well, Sir! now to the Proof on't. [Soft Mufick.] That's the Signal of her Approach Come, Sir, get into this Gown with me, put your right Hand through this Sleeve Mind you your Part, and I'll warrant her your own. Sir Greg. Well, faith! this will be pure! Now I begin to fmoak it j do you place her in that Chair, and I warrant you, I'll grope her out. Cun. Here fhe comes lie (till. Enter Mirabel. Lady this homely Roof, and courfer Entertainment, are too much honour'd by fo fair a Prefence; but where fincere Affections are both Hoft and Gueft. The Place takes little from their full De- light. Enter Simple. This only Friend I have made bold t'invite to be the private Wit- nefs of our contracted Faith. Mir. Your Friend's raoft welcome, Sir, and when our Hands are link'd in that firm Chain, that mull: unite us ever: Fame fhall belie my Virtue, if e'er it (peaks me, but an obedient Wife $ in witnefs of this Truth I yield my Hand. Cun. And thus devoutly I receive it. Mir. O! you grafp me, Sir, too hard. Cun. Think it but a Lover's Zeal, and Pardon it. \/Jfide. Mir. Poor Sir Gregory / methinks I pity him ! how ftrangely wou'd he rave to fee this Interview.* Cun. O! you're ftill too much concern'd for him: You know he gave his Intereft up to me, and mou'd you pity one that flights you? Mir. That Thought, indeed, revives my Refblution — No more Delays then, but for ever make me yours. Cun. Thus then Sim. Hold, Sir, begging your Fair Lady's pardon too — give me leave firlt, at leaf!:, in one friendly flowing Glafs, to particularize •my feparace Satisfaction, that I conceive at this time in your united X z Felicity, 1 64. The Rival Fools: Or, Felicity, and that ridiculous Animal, Sir Gregory's eternal Difap- pointmenr. Mir. Since 'tis your Friend's Propofal, Sir, I pledge it. [Drinks. Cun. 'Twas kindly ofTer'd. Sim. Deftroy me, but fuch a Banquet once a Week, wou'd make me grow fat in a Fortnight. [Afide.] But, pray Sir, now proceed in your Ceremony. Cun. Thus then — Before the facred 'Powers Above, I join this plighted Hand in Bonds of Love ; And with this Hand, the Heart that owns the fame, To burn for ever in this facred Flame : With Hand and Heart I yield my Fortune too, And all the Rights that to a Wife are due : And this firm Vow for mutual Life [hall ft and, Irrevocably feal'd with Heart and Hand. Sim. Well, now cou'd I walk bare-foot to Berwick, and back a- gain, and laugh at the Jeft all the Way, without Baiting. [Afide. Mir. Thus too — Before the facred Powers Above, I join this plighted Hand in Bonds of Love : And with this Hand, the Heart that owns the fame, To burn for ever in this facred Flame : With Hand and Heart I yield my Fortune too, And all the Rights that are a Husband's due : And this firm Vow for mutual Life fioall ft and, Irrevocably feal'd with hleart and Hand. Sir Greg. Ha, ha, ha, Faith, and fo it mall, Madam, for here's the Hand that owns the Heart that you have fworn to obey. Cun. And, Faith, Sir Gregory, here's Witnefs of the Contract. Sh Greg. Now, now, what Names have you to call me, pray? Mir. Hufband, Sir. Sit Greg. [Coming out of the Gown.] Hay! Ods-Nails! I am cheat- ed, wrong'd, fool'd, abus'd. Sim, Extremely fobb'd, indeed, Sir. Cun. Win ^ federal Weapons. j 65 Cun. Why did not I tell you. Sir, you ihou'd find her another Woman ? Sim. Nay, me is not the fame, Knight 1 can witnefs, ha, ha, Sir Greg. What the Devil, have you brought my own Man to laugh in my Face too Sir, fince fhe is not the fame, I mud tell you, I'll have another, if there were but another Lady in Europe : You'll find, Sir, that I won't be married in Blind-man's-BufF. Cun. Why; 'twas your own Agreement, Sir And if you knew the Care I have taken of you, you'd down of your Knees, and thank your Stars it was no worfe. Sir Greg. A Fire of my Stars, I did not care if my Stars were all of a light blaze. I am fure I may thank yon that 'tis as bad as it is. Cun. Are not you afhamed ! Your very Inhumanity has drawn. Tears from the Lady. Mir. Ah me! Is this the Promife of my Hopes? Why was I flat" ter'd with imaginary Joy? Muft I fuffer for another's Fault ? Is Prida, Perverfenefs, and ill Ufage then the only way to conquer Mens Aire- ^lions? If Tears, Submiflion, Gentlenefs, and Obedience have no Charms, my Merit's poor indeed, and I deferve the Slights that I forefee muft fall on me. Sir Greg. W T hy, Faith, upon fecond Thoughts, this is fome thing Civiller than Rogue and RafcaL Cun. Ods-precious! Madam, dry your Eyes for fliamef I have no longer Patience to fee fuch Youth, Beauty, and mch Vertue thrown away on one that never can deferve 'em Go, Sir, return again to her that knows you better,- that gives you Language fitter for you ; that means to treat you to your Merit j to abufe, to bafle and dilgrace you: Fool, Slave, Rafcal, Monfler, is the Converfe ycu delight in : We fell no fuch Ware ,• if you look here for Blows, and fuil-mouth'd Curfes, you are deceiv'd j pray, feek elfewhere — Meeknefs, Obedience, Vertue, are the Goods we deal in. Sim. And, pray, Sir, has not your Wifdom yet difcovei'd the Party, for whofe fake the other Lady fo horribly abus'd you, ha, ha. Sir Greg. Why you little forry Son of a Hark-ye, Cunning- ham ■, do but make half as much a Fool of that whole Jackanapes, for 166 The Rival Fools: Or, for laughing at me, and let things go as they will — Here's my Hand, I'll forgive thee all over. \Afide. Cun. O Fie! Sir, your Mind can't be fo foon alter'd. You'll like no Woman that won't fling a Slipper in your Face ,• break your Head with a Fan-handle, or bore your Nofe with a filycr Bodkin. Mir. Thefe Qualities you'll never find in me : But in a fond obe- dient Wife, the readied and the humbled Servant. Cun. 'Death! but he mall not, Madam j let his grofs Ignorance feel the lofs of you — I've a Thought will do j I'll difannul this Con- trad yet, and fee you better married. Sir Greg. 'Slife! but you mail not, Sir, [Taking her Hand from him.'] (he's mine, and I am hers, and as long as we are one another's, according to Law, let me fee the Man that dares divide us. If you are my Friend, Sir, prove it,- and don't pretend to do me a good Turn, and then hit me o' the Teeth with it. I am fure, confidering how damnable III I fucceeded with the t'other, this Lady can't blame me for being a little cautious at firft. Mir. If it were only Caution, Sir, indeed I can't blame you. Cun. Nay, Sir, get the Lady's Confent, and I have no Ob- jection- Sir Greg. Lady's Confent! fo I have, Sir Look-ye here, Sir [Ki/fa f° er -'\ there's my firft Proof of Love to her And now, Madam, to flop the Mouth of my Friend's Impertinence for ever, give me a round Smack as a Proof of your Love to me. There's for you, Sir; are you fatisfied Now, Sir? [She Kijfes bim.] Cun. Nay, now I own your Wit too hard for mine $ indeed you have carry'd her, in fpite of me. Sim. And now, Sir, I hope you'll own that there are Ladies that may be carry'd too in fpite of other People, ha, ha. Sir Greg. Ay, but it muft be when thou'rt her Coachman then, for if ever thou carried a Lady, without Horfes to help thee, I'll be bound to be a Hack-Driver as long as I live. Sim. Sir, There are Perfons, indeed, that are ridiculous, and ve- ry obnoxious to Ladies, and fuch Fools, indeed, do mifs of 'em — Cun. Nay, no Dilfenfion here, I befeech you, Gentlemen — Mr. Si>rij?le } I'll do you Bufinefs effectually— — . Sim. Wit, at federal Weapons. 167 Sim. Sir, I'm convinc'd that my Conduct has deferv'd it ev'n of the Lady her felf, Sir. Curt. Sir Gregory, hark-ye you fhall laugh at him very fpee- dily . Sir Greg. Ha, ha. Cun. In the mean time, I have ftill cpntriv'd you a new and bet- ter Revenge upon your other Miftre(s. Sir Greg. How! How! Dear Rogue, my Spleen's on tip- toe at the very Thoughts on't. Cun. Why, let your Contract with this Lady be yet conceal'd; and to her Unkle, ftill fupport a Face of feeming Inclination to her, which will make him fo eager for the Match, that he'll e'en force her to offer her felf to you j then may you burft into a Laugh in his Face; turn upon your Heel to her, and bid her Look foraHufband where there is a Man Fool enough to be Co : Thus you humble her proud Stomach ; return her Coynejfs with Contempt, and treble all your late Difgraces upon her Shame,- and let your Bride, her Rival's Vertue, triumph o'er her Falfhood and her Folly. Sir Greg. Ha, ha, and if I don't do it, fay I have no more Spleen than a Cucumber. Faith, and I'll plague the old Fellow too, for he has us'd me almoft as fcurvily as his Niece. Come, Madam, let's to Bed, and fo to Church as faft as ever we can drive. And then \ Madam Minx, to her for row /hall fee, What a Husband Jhe 'as loft in miffing of me : How my Spleen will be tickled, when Jhe finds that to flout her, 1 have bobVd her proud Heart, and am married without her. Exit Sir Gregory and Mirabel. Cun. Why, how now Friend! What! in a Brown-ftudy? Sim. Why, really, Sir, I am a little furpriz'd I don't hear from the Lady yet. Cun. O \ the good Minute will come before Night, my Life on't. Sim. Well, Sir, Lovers indeed mud have Patience. I'll e'en take another Turn by the New-River, where, if Love were not an Enemy to Laughter, the Thoughts of your fooling the Knight wou'd 1 68 The Rival Fools: Or, wou'd at leaft be a two Hours Entertainment to me: But I think now of borrowing an Angle-Rod, to pafs away the time with ; you know my Walk, Sir, if (lie Fends, you'll certainly find me upon the fame Bank, juft by the Eddy, fiming for Millers-thumbs. [Exit. Cun. I'll certainly take care, Sir — [Enter T. Outwit.] Hah! Out- wiVl Well how go Squares? Y. Out. Bravely Boy! All's a- foot: The Knight's Lady has pre- vaiPd with my Coufin, your Miftrefs, upon an AlTurance that you will meet her there j and (lie has wheedled the old Governefs to go with her : And they are all now at the Mafquerade, in the next Street j upon which I have alarm'd my Father, that Sir Gregory is fallen off, for Neglects, and ill Ufage, and that he is now violent- ly bent upon a rich Widow, (whom the Knight's Lady muft per- fonate) and to complete his Revenge, is refolv'd, unlefs fuddenly prevented, to marry her immediately: Now this, Sir, will make my Father eager, at any Rate, to recover Sir Gregory, whom, by a Mark, and the change of one another's Coats, you are to perfo- liate ^ and fo difguis'd, you carry off your Miftrefs, and ev'n cheat the old Governefs to alii ft you. Cun. Admirable! But where's the old Knight, your Father ? Y.Out. I left him in the Street, flopping a Coach, with the Windows up, upon a Sufpicion that Sir Gregory was in the infide on't, and fo took that Opportunty to ftep up, and prepare you for our next Scene Here he comes. Cun. I am ready for him. Enter Sir Oliver. Sir 0/. Mr, Cunningham, your Servant: Pray, Sir, can you tell me any News of Sir Gregory? Cun. No, really, Sir, but what I fuppofe your Son has told you, that he's certainly gone oft. Sir 01. But what fhou'd be the Reafon, think you? Y.Out. Shall I tell it you over again, Sir? I tell you, he's be- witch'd j my Coufin's ill Ufage, and your flack Performance of your Promife have quite turn'd his Brain, and if you don'c immedi- ately think of fome Expedient to recover him, with full Hopes of his Wit, at fever al Weapons. 169 his marrying your Niece out of Hand, you'll find him marry'd to the Widow before to morrow Morning. Sir 01. Ah ! cou'd we but find him, I'd fecure him my Niece. Y. Out. Aflure him but of that, Sir, I dare yet undertake to re- cover the Knight ,• for, to tell you the truth, he has invited me to his Wedding, and I am this moment trufted with their very Place of meeting. Sir 01. Nay, then, all's whole again ■> we have him, for I have already fent to my Niece, to prepare her felf to marry him within this half Hour Come, come, we'll call upon Doctor Double* Chin as we go - } whip up the Ceremony, and tack 'em together like a new Pair of Stockings. Y. Out. Right, Sir, but one of the Stockings is mine : Now fince you have already bargain'd for yours, I mall not part with the t'other without a valuable Confideration. Sir 01. What doeft: thou mean ? Y. Out. That my Knight, Sir, is the Fellow to your Niece, and if you fell him her, I muft fell you him. Sir 01. 'Pfhaw, prithee, why you filly Rogue, doft thou think I won't confider thee. Y. Out. Sir, you need not give your felf that trouble; I'll confi- der my felf; for having nothing but my Wits to live by, I am refolv'd not to ftarve, by being a Fool. Cun. This is no Time to haggle with him, Sir. Sir 01. Why the Rogue is in the right, and I will encourage him j I love Ingenuity there, Sirrah, there's Sublicence for the Vices of a whole Fortnight Come, come along. Y. Out. Sir, I can't ftir one ftep, if thefe two Pieces are not im- mediately made twenty. Cun. Strike him quickly, Sir, before he raifes his Price. Sir 01. Raifes the Devil, Sir, who mall raife the Money } Y. Out. Every Word you fpeak, Sir, is a whole Pound out of your way : now I mud have one and twenty, Cun. I told you how 'twou'd be, Sir. Sir 01. Why you impudent Son of a - Y. Out. Another, Sir twenty two. ' Vol. If, Y Ur ft 170 The Rival Fools: Or, Sir (9/. Urn! Y. Out. Have a care you don't reafon with me, 'twill undo you. Cun. You fee his Humour, Sir : Faith e'en let him have it, tho' you fling it at his Head — The thing's richly worth an hundred, Sir. {Afide. Sir 01. [Afide."] Why dofl: thou think I don't know that? I am biting him all this while There, Sirrah, there's your Money : Nay, prithee don't lofe no time to count it. Y. Out. Always tell Money after your Father, Sir. Enter a Servant haftily. Sir 01. How now ? Serv. O! Sir, Mrs. Luanda is no where to be found,- we have enquir'd up and down, fearch'd high and low; (lie went out with a ftrange Lady, Sir, and the old Governefs, and left word with Mrs. Mary, that if your Honour enquir'd for her, (lie believ'd fhe ihou'd never come home again. Sir (9/. Undone, undone, all's blown up again. Y. Out. The Money's right, Sir. Cun. This is a Misfortune, indeed Sir. SirO/. Ah! Son! Son! now (hew thy felf my Son: Help at this Pinch, and I'll Y.Out. Count me out thirty Pieces more, Sir without de- lay take my word too for deferving 'em, for I mud begin to have fome regard now to my Credit, Sir — Quick, Sir, or I don't bate you a Shilling of forty. Cun. Faith, Sir, this is downright Extortion, I am really a- fham'd 1 wou'd not give it him. Sir 01. You wou'd not give it him — ! Then you'd lofe a thoufind Pound, Sir — There, there 'tis, bring me but to my Niece - } if it is not right, I'll double the Sum. Y. Out. Then, obferve, Sir, your Niece is now in Mafcjuerade, at my Lady Revels, which is the general Rendezvous of all the young Coxcombs in Town: She has an Amour a-foot there, to my know- ledge, that you don't know of, and very probably intends, this Night, to make a fafliionable End on't. 3 Sirtf/. Wit, at feveral Weapons. 171 Sir 01. The Devil ! Y.Out. Sufpend your wonder, Sir: You'd recover her, wou'd not you? Sir 6V. O! Dear Son, at any Rate; at any Rate. Y. Out. Then obferve, Sir, we three, with fuch Help as may be neceffary, will all enter upon 'em difguis'd, (for no body bare-fac'd is admitted) pretending to be a fort of Anti-mafk, and fo, at a pro- per Opportunity, (which I'll contrive) we may carry her off. Sir 01. Won't this Mafking take up too much time tho' ? Y.Out. Sir, they never ftir thence till Morning: And for Dif- guiies, I can fit you in a quarter of an Hour. Sir 01. Well, well, is there nothing elfe wanting? Y. Out. Only the charge of good Mufick, Sir ; it muft be good, that we and our Defign may pafs the lefs fufpe&ed ,• and I can pro- vide you that, Sir, if you'll give your Word, before this Gentleman, to pay it. Sir 01. There's my Hand, coil what it will j get the bed in the Kingdom, I'll pay it all. Y. Out. That's all you {hall pay, upon my Word, Sir. Sir 01. Let's away j let's away. [Exeunt, Cun. I neither doubt his Friendfhip, or his Wit: But come the zvorft, if his Attempt's overthrown. My Re/oJution then Jh all feize my own. Enter in Mafquerade, Lady Gentry, Niece, Governed, and Ladies. L. Gen. Come, Ladies, Mufick fliall give us now her airy Wel- come j 'twill be the bed, I fear, this homely Habitation can afford. Niece. For me, alas! my Welcome follows me, elfe I am ill come hither : You ftill afifure me, Madam, Mr. Cunningham will be here. L. Gen. Madam, as on his Life depend on't. Niece. Continue ftill to let the Governefs believe Sir Gregory's the Man we wait for. Gov. I marvel, Lady, the Knight's fo flow in coming! Lovers o' th' latter Age were wont to ride with Spurs on. Y 2 L.GV/v. 172 The Rival Fools: Or, L.Gen. He'll be here immediately — his Mufick's come already, Madam — He only flays to be perfect in fome gallant Device to ap- pear with, that he has been beating his Brains about. Niece. Ah! poor Man! He may beat 'em to Pap before any thing comes out of 'em. Gov. Well, well, you'll agree better one Day. Niece. Hardly two, I'm afraid. Gov. Marriage will alter you. Niece. I rather believe I fhall alter my Marriage. [A/ide. Gov. Nay, nay, I know you are for a Man of Wit, Forfoodi: A Cunningham^ I warrant yon, one that has no more Honefty than a Horfe-Courfer, and as little Confcience as an Apothecary's Bill: A falfe protefting Wretch : In my Heart, our Women are all won with ill Ufage, now a Days. L. Gen. Truly, and fo are the Men too, for ought I fee. Gov. Ah! in Troth, you've hit it, Lady — if true heartednefs were the Thing, Mr. Cunningham might haveprov'd himfelf an ho- neft Man a-fore now, and fome Folks never the worfe for't. L. Gen. Nay, Men are indeed ftrange Creatures. Gov. Ah ! they are no more what they were ■ Niece. Than you can be what I am now, Governefs. Gov. Well, well, you'll be wifer one Day. Niece. I'd willingly be happy fir ft, methinks. Gov. Then Sir Gregory's the Man muft make ycu fo, and fay I tell you fo. Niece. If I do but manage him right, I hope he will. L. Gen. Hark! I hear his Mufick - y this mult be he. [Flourifh. [Enter Sir Oliver, T. Outwir, Cunningham in Sir Gregory's Cloaths y all mask'd, Sir Threadbare and Prifcian, as Mujicians, &c. who take out the Ladies to dance.] So, fo, our Company's well increas'd! What fay you to a Dance, Ladies. Niece. What fay you, Governefs? Gov. Nay, nay, not I in Troth — my jaunting Days are done. Sir 01. Come, come, Widow, you won't fpoil good Company, fure! We'll have one Round in honour of Sixty three. Ah! you can foot it flill^ if you were but well ftir'd, 8 Gov. Wit, at feveral Weapons. 173 Gov. Well, well, a civil Word makes me do any thing. Sir 01. That I dare fwear, by your bringing my Niece hither, with a Pox to you. \Afide» Cun. I think Luanda. Niece. Cunningham / Cun. The fame,- fear nothing. Niece. Why, where's the Danger? Cun. Your Unkle's here. Niece. You make me tremble. Cun. Be eafy, he's drawn into the Plot againft himfelf. Y.Out. That's your Niece, Sir, Cunningham has fecur'dher alreacy. Sir 01. I CeQ't: We have caught her, i'faith, Boy. Y. Out. Will you allow me Wit now, Father ? Sir 01. Thou haft earn'd thy Money faithfully, I muft allow it. Y. Out. I hope to give you a better Proof on't yet, before Night, Sir. Sir 01. Let me but get over this Plunge, and I'll allow thee any thing. Y.Out. That I'll engage you (hall, Sir, before I have done with you. Cun. At our fecond meeting in the Dance, we lofe our Hands no more. Niece. Are you prepar'd to join 'em ? Cun. The Prieft ftays for us : Has the Governefs her LefTon ? Niece. Yes, yes, (he takes you for Sir Gregory, and will follow us. Gov. Ah! well faid, Sir Knight, ftick clofe to her, and recover the Time you've loft — We have ftaid this Hour for you. Cun. When you fee us go off in the Dance, I hope you'll go along with us? Gov. Will I! What do you think I came hither for? Sir 01. Come, come, ftrike up Gentlemen. All dance, at the latter end of which, Cunningham, Niece 3 La. Gen. and Governefs, Exeunt, and the Muftck ceafes. Sir 01. [Dancing on.] Heyday ! Heyday ! What is the Mufick tir'd before us? Sir Thr. [In broken Englifh.] No, Sare, bote de Company 'ave done^ you fee, and is be gone. Si? 1 74 The Rival Fools: Or, Sir (9/. Ha! Who! What! Where's my Niece? Son! Son! my Niece/ my Niece/ Y. Out. Are you mad, Sir, to difcover your felf: Did not you fee Cunningam go off with her ? Sir 01. Difcover the Devil; don't tell me, Sir, was not I to have gone along with him - } for ought I know here may be a Con- trivance Hay! I-gad I don't like your Looks, I niuft tell you that, Sir By the World I'll go after 'em. \Going Sir Thr. and Prif fiop him. Sir Thr. Holda, Sir, Diabolo, you mull pay de Moufique before you fall goe. SivOI. Mud! Why how now Scoundrel! Sir Thr. Me no ondraftanda what you vil fay de Scondrel. Me vil hava de Money. Sir 01. Suppofe I won't pay you thefe five Hours. Sir Thr. Den you fall no be goe dis five Hores. Sir 01. Shalln't go, Sir! Sir Thr. No, Diabolo, you no fall goe. Sir 01. Why, Sirrah, fuppofe I have a mind to make you play before me in the Streets ? Siv Thr. I hava maka no Accord to play de Street, I ava agree to play only at de Ballat,- if you no ava de minde to danca no more, you vil pay de Money, de Money vil letta you goe. Sir 0/. A Pox on him for a fputtering-— a — here, Son, lay out,- give 'em Twelve-pence a piece, and let's be rid of 'em. Y.Otit. Twelve-pence! that's but a Crown, Sir! Sit Thr. Una Corona! Ha, ha, ha. Sir 01. Yah, yah. Why, what a plague do you laugh at, Sir? I believe a Crown wou'd make you all laugh and dance too in your own Country. Y. Out. Sir, for your own fake laugh again, and fay you only meant it as a J eft, you'll be expos'd for ever elfe. Sir 01. Expofe a Rump, Sir - } I am not to be laugh'd out of my Money. Y. Out. Death ! Sir 5 they are all Italians. Sir Wit, at fcveral Weapons. 175 Sir0/. Why, what then, Sir, mayn't an Italian be a Scoundrel, as well as an Englishman? Y.Out. Lurd! Sir, I wou'd not have this heard for the Uni- verfe: Does not the whole Nation adore 'em, Sir? Is any Man al- low'd common Sen(e, among the better Sort, that is not ravilh'd with their Mufick? And is any thing a more fafhionable Mark of a Gentleman, than to pay an extravagant Price fort ? Sir 01. A Pox of the Famion, Sir, they'll get no fuch Marks from me, I can tell you If any thing in Reafon will fatisfy 'em let's know what 'tis — for I am in hafte. Y. Out. I'll try what I can do with 'em, Sir. Sir 01. [To himfelf.'] What cou'd they mean by going off without me? Unlefs my Niece difcover'd my being here, and fo ran away out of fear — that's the bed I can hope of it — if not, I am chous'd, and that Rogue, my Son, is at the bottom of it. Y. Out. Nay, but Gentlemen, bate us but one ten Pound. Sir 01. How! Bate ten Pound! why, what the Devil's the whole Sum then ? Y. Out. Why, Sir, they are Five of 'era, and it feems they never (Irike a Note under twenty Guineas a Man? SirOl. Twenty Hang-Dogs ! Y. Out. And, Faith, there's no making 'em bate a Shilling, Sir. Sir 01. Oones! do they know what they fay, why that's a hundred Guineas ? Y.Out. Sir! A hundred? what at — hay! Five of 'em at twen- ty — let's fee — um — urn — fourfcore — Gad 'tis a hundred, Sir. But we had not time to make a Bargain with 'em: Faith, Sir, I fee no Remedy, you pafs'd your Word to pay 'em. Sir Thr. Diabolo! For vate is all dis, doe nothing? Me vil be no affronta Me vil ava de Money, or you fall ava my Life taka your Spada. [Draws. Y.Out. Have a care, Sir. Sir 01. Hoity, Toity? O your Servant, Gentlemen! What I am to be robb'd then, it feems. 1 beg your pardon 1 took you for Fidlers, but I find by your Tools you are Gentlemen of another Trade — very good! There's your Money, Sir — as fairly robb'd, I yield 11 6 The Rival Fools: Or, I yield it— -but to alk a hundred Pound with five Fiddlefticks in your Hands, was an Impudence ten times beyond it — Thefe are Thieves, Sirrah Highwaymen, and I am robb'd. Y. Out. Indeed, Muficians, Sir, and you are only bobb'd ,• for coft what it wou'd, 'twas your own Agreement to pay 'em. Sir 01. Yes, yes, and you have provided 'em with admirable In- ilruments, I thank you. Y. Out. Sir, the Gentlemen are taking their Leaves. Sir 01. O your Servant ! your Servant, Gentlemen- — — You are damnably well bred, I muft confefs but 'tis no matter, fome body mall pay for't, let me but recover my Niece, and Sir Gregory lhall find it all in his Bill, faith. Enter Governefs. 'Xxov. Oh! Sir Oliver/ undone, undone. Sir 01. So ! {he's robb'd too, I hope. Gov. O! Sir, my Heart- firings are broke 1 have fcarce Life left to tell you the Misfortune. Sir 01. Misfortune ! Why what the Devil's the matter with thee, thou haft not been ravifli'd, haft thou? Gov. Ah! Sir, wou'd that were theworfton't! Your Niece! your Niece / Sir. Sir 0/. What! broke her Leg? Gov. O worfe, worfe! (lie has broke all Bonds of Obedience, and is mod notorioufly Sir 01 With Child. Gov. Married, Sir. Sir 01. The Devil! Gov. To that abondon'd falfe Diffembler, Cunningham. Sir 01. Then wou'd fhe were with Child But who was the Prieft? for firft I'll hang him. Gov. E'en your own Kinfman, Sir, Mr. Credulous Outwit, that you ■defign'd for the Welch Benefice. Sir 01. Good ! I fav'd him from one Halter, and he has helpt my Niece to another Haft thou any more ill News? Gov. And Sir Gregory is married too. Sir W i t, at federal Weapons. 177 Sir 01. To my Niece too, I hope, and then I may hang her. Gov. No, Sir, to my Daughter,- (he's Lady Goofe now, and that's all I have left to comfort me And fee where they come all in a Clutter Enter Sir Gregory, and Mirabel, Cunningham, and Niece, Young Outwit, L.Gentry, Sir Threadbare, Prifcian, and Mr. Credulous. Sir 01. Hey-day ! Rebellion in Triumph ! fee what your Care's come to now, Mr. Politick? Where's your Wit at a Pinch now, Sir? Y.Ont. Here! here in this full Purfe, Sir. Sir 01. Very fine! fo you have been in the bottom of all this Ro- guery againft me, and I am fairly cheated. Y. Out. To your Hearts content, Sir, thanks to the little Wit your Fatherly Wifdom turn'd a Grazing. SirO/. Umph! Sir Greg. Wit! ha, ha, ha, why didft thou ever pretend to it, old Knight. SuOl. 'Tis time I (hou'd give it over indeed, when thou afkeffc that Queflion. Six Greg. Ha, ha, why you are crabb'd, old Unkle, that wou'd ha' been. Sir OL And you are married to a great Fortune, that iliou'd ha' been. Sir Greg. Yes, yes, if Rogue, Slave, Rafcal, Kicks, Thumps, and Bobbs of the Face were to be coin'd, {he wou'd have been a devilifh Fortune indeed j '(life, Sir, I wou'd not have had her with that Flint-hearted Tongue of hers, tho' (he were (luck all o'er with Diamonds, tho' her Backfide were all beaten Gold, her Eyes to drop nothing but Pearls, and the reft of her Rock to make Hogfheads of Wine inftead of fair Water. Cun. That I dare fwear he wou'd not, Sir, if it had been only in pure Friendfhip to me. Sit Greg. Nay, faith, I wilh thou hadft 'fcap'd her too, and then (he might have^een eaten up with the Green-ficknefs: Look you, Sir, in Thort, I have made this Gentlewoman a Lady, in fpite to her, and have married her in fpite to you, and will love her, in love to Vol. II. Z my 178 The Rival Fools: Or, my felf, and to let you all fee what Honour me has mifs'd the being Mother of, before to Morrow Morning, I'll fo fpur up my Knight-' hood that I'll get her with Squire. Niece. .Well, Sir Gregory, you have made me 10 heartily 'fham'd of my Folly, that from henceforth I am refolv'd here to give my illf up to Love, Gentlenefs and Obedience. Sir Greg. Ay, ay, this is afore your Unkle's Face! but for all that, who will have a Plaifter upon his Forehead afore Morning? Y.Out. You fee, Sir, all's irrecoverable Nothing thrives but what I have a Hand in You had better allow me two hundred a Year, than fo much a Week. Sir 01. O! I cannot think of parting with any thing before I die. Y. Out. Then I (hall certainly think of nothing but your Death, Sir. Sir 01. Peace, I fay — I'll think again. Sir Greg. Well, Cunningham, now I proclaim thee a Man of thy word,- for I think I have fufBciently fpited my Miftrefs, and have as heartily fowr'd the old Gentleman! look how fhe looks! And now if I cou'd but plague my Man Simple a little, the full Joys of my Spleen wou'd be compleat ; Gum That you may do immediately, for here he comes. Enter Simple, with an Angle-rod. You, Madam, mud join with us. [To Niece. Sir Greg. Ha, ha, ha, why, how now, Sam! Sam! Boy! What had thou been bobbing for Gregs, and in the mean time, let thy Miftrefs flip through thy Fingers like an Eel, ha, ha, ha. Sim. Gudgeons indeed are eafier taken ; for I hear this Lady, d'ye obferve me, has caught you, Sir — But really my Bufinefs at prefent "is with this Lady. Niece. Away, ungrateful Man. Can. Hark you, Sir, 'tis now too late to expostulate: The La- iy I find is betrayed as well as you ; it feems fhe fent above a dozen times to you, and the falfe Brother, that was employ'd between you, as often brought word you wou'd be with her in a Quarter of in Hour. Sim. Sir, if I have feen any living Creature, but a few Miller's Thumbs^ W i t, at feveral Weapons. i 79 Thumbs, fince I laft faw you, I wifli this Angle-Rod might never go through me. Cun. What ill Fate was this ? Why, Sir, the Lady took it fo to Heart, that out of pure fpite to her ill Fortune, me is really marri- ed to another. Sim. Why then perim my Heart, Sir, if J don't pity her Yet if (he has undone herfelf, fhe may thank her felf for'c 1 cou'd do no more than I cou'd do 1 kept my word, if fhe wou'd not believe it, 'twas her own Fault, fhe might have had Patience to have fpoke with a Man tho\ Cun. That was a Fault indeed, Sir. Sim. Nay, extreamly Faulty Day and Night fhe might hav# commanded me, and that fhe knew well enough, I told her fo be- tween her and I — Madam, fays I, when you find your felf never fo little uneafie at my being from you, do but fend me the lead word, I'll come and relieve you in an Inftant, and becaufe a Fellow has play'd the Rafcal with us, for her to go and throw her felf away upon this, and that, and t'other, and I can't tell what — 'Pfliaw! it was idly done; cou'd not fhe have come to iru ! er felf? And have been fatisfied? Cun. That had done it, Sir. Sim. To a hair, Sir — but when People will follow their own Fancies Cun. Well! fure never couple fo narrowly mifs'd of one another. Sim. And as it was, Sir, you faw I was within one of her, I was fure all the while I was between the Knight and home Poor Crea- ture it really gives me a Concern to fee her take on fo. Cun. And yet I can't but fay, Sir, her undoing, is her own doing, Sim. But you'll find, Sir, the thing will really reflecl: upon me in the end ,• I fhall hear of it, as I go along the Streets : People won't confider it was not my Fault But will cry there goes the Ill-na- tur'd Gentleman, upon whofe Account the Lady flung her felf a- way 1 fhall certainly be blam'd about this. Foolifh Woman. ■ — Befide, Sir, I am really under a great Difippointment my felf,- for here have I turn'd my felf out of my Place upon her Account; Z i and 180 The Rival Fools: Or, and now, Sir, inftead of this, and that, and t'other, let me perifli, if I know where to eat. Mir. Alas, poor Gentleman! Come, Sir, mall I fpeak a good word for you ? Sim. Really, Madam, my Temper is fuch, I don't know how to-- refufe a Lady any thing. Mir. O, Sir Gregory mull be Friends with you. Sir Greg. Well, Sam! what hail thou to fay now, Boy? Sim. Why, really, Sir, 1 don't well know, but, methinks, here I don't know, things have been very odly contriv'd, Sir; but the ftiorfr of the matter is really this, fince the Party we lately difputed of feems to be otherwife difpos'd of, that is to fay, fince you have mifs'd of the Lady, and 1 really have not got her, I think it wou'd* not be improper if we two fhoifd take one another again. Sir Greg. Well, well, Sam, with all my Heart, a match, Boy. Sim. Madam, I thank you And really the thing is much eafier than it was, — Pray, Sir, where do you dine? Y. Out. Nay, Sir, take it your own way — For my part I mall buir lofe by this Allowance I have not fought oat half my Wea- pons, yet, Sir — Befides, Sir, I have away of Fighting invifible, ma- Dy a Polt have you had within thefe twelve Hours, Sir, without knowing who it came from. Sir 01. How ! make that appear, and I'll fay fomething to thee. Y. Out. Imprimis, to let you fee how profoundly your Apprehen- fion was afleep, Sir, I fairly flruck five Pieces out of you for thefe Gentlemen Beggars, of which Bounty your humble Searvant was the mil publick Example, and private Sharer. You may remember, Sir, when you admir'd our fpeaking Greek and Syriack, we were then only faying in vile Gibberiih, that we wou'd not ftir till we had i oick'd your Pocket. Sir 01. But was that Wit your own, Sir? Y. Out. 'Pfhaw! a {light Preface to the Volumes that are to follow, Sir 01. How! Y. Out. What think you of a certain hundred Pieces given to re- deem your Favourite Nephew, from the Hands or a Conilable for being concern'd in a certain Robber.y? which was indeed no Robbe- ry Wit, at fever al Weapons. j 8 1 ry, no Conftable, no Thief, nothing real, but Top, Sides and Bottom, a fair Bite all over, Sir. And, laftly, Sir, this memorable hundred Pounds worth of Mufick, which to crown my Triumph, Sir, are very generoufly return'd to play one Dance at my Coufin Cunningham's Wedding. Sir 01. Well, Boy, fince thou haft fatisfied me I have no Fool to my Son, I'll now let the World fee, thou haft a wife Man to thy Father Give me the Writing There's my Hand to it- — And now ftrike up Mufick Wit fhorfd be try'd before it claims regard. T. Out. But fairly prov'd, like mine Jhould find reward. T H E E N EPILOGUE. P I L O G U E. Pinkethman taking Bullock by the Sleeve, fpeaks. Pin. TTOLD/ Hold! Sir hu\\ock\ 7"ou muft ftay, dear Rogue," And tack a Rhime or two to th' Epilogue. Bui. Pho f Pox ! not 1 -, bejide, your Jefts are more in Vogue. If I don't think you're be ft alone, then rack me. Pin. Ay, but you know — I'm better — with an Afs to back me. Bui. Of Sir, for that, you'll find, indeed, dear Brother, That's but one Afs'j backing of another: Now tho' the J eft is flale, of Afs beftridden, It may be new to fee the Rider ridden. [Tripps up his Heels, and beftrides him« Pin. Odfloeart f the Dog will mm iher me Bui. No, no ; I'm only backing of my Friend, or fo : Now, pray Sirs, tell me, did you e'er fee a Face, [Shewing it to the Audience. Jn every Circumftance more like an Afs ? And is't not juft, that I fhou'd now keep down, The Afs that has fo often rid the Town? But that thou may' ft hereafter grow more Wife Heyday f What now ? [Pin. ftruggling. Pin. III tell you when I rife ? [Throws Bui. over his Head, and mounts on him. Bui. Ods me f the Beafi has thrown me ■ Pin. Pin. ; Down , Rogue, down: Thus Rightful Monarchs Re-afcend their Throne. So have I feen, and with as little Rout, Britains and French march Into Towns and Out : And thus by fudden Turns of good and ill Luck, Victorious Pinky ftrides the conquered Bullock. But now, to let you fee your Conqueror's Virtue, Tho', Slave, I have you down 1 /corn to hurt you, Bui. Well, well, I yield : Tet all this mighty do, But proves, that Vm an Afs as well as You. Pin. Thus the fole Glory we in ViBors fee, Is firft to make Men Slaves, then fet 'em Free. Get up you Puppy- Bui. ■ Well, now let's agree. [Rifes. And as you firfl proposed befriend the Play. Pin. That's true Grant, Gallants, but your Smiles to Day, And your Petitioner fhall ever pray : Bui. That every Lover to thefe Scenes inclin'd, May the fame Favour from his Mijirefs find. Pin. May all the married Dames preferve their Spoufes, From Drink, late Hours, and ill reputed Houfes. Bui. May no ripe Virgin here, pajl Twenty tarry, But the fit ft Swain, that Woes her, Love, and Man J. Pin. Widows that flamelefs lie, like unftirr'd Fire, Be blown by Younger Brothers to Defire. Bui. May you, that keep no Cows, that is, zvon't Marry, Skim the fweet Cream- boivls of your Neighbour's Dairy. Bin. May all you, Soldiers, that have lain in Trenches, Good Winter- ghtarters find, and Jo ft — found Wenches Bui. The Beaux ft ill make Subfcriptions for the Fan, And each Prefented Ticket cure Defpair, Pin. Each Fair Nymph's Love, that's now abroad in Wars-, Come laden Home, with His — and Her Arrears. Bui. May all the Gameflers make their Bubbles pay. And daily 'mint 'em for their Itch of Play, P-in," 4 Pin. Each Mifs that pays her only Half Crown duly, Be ten- fold re-imburCd it by a Cully : Bui. And may thofe Cullies, whom their Charms. fo urge-on, Ne'er find Occafion after for a Surgeon. Pin. So may thofe Wijhes watt on all that fay, In hearty Claps, they will fupport the Play, And Cram the Houfe, upon the Author'j-Day. XIMENA. £AAAAA2AAAJLJL'£jUb X I M E N A ; OR, THE HEROICK DAUGHTER: T R AGEDY As it is A&ed at the Theatre-Royal B Y His MAJESTY'S Servants Face rmptiali Digna, {f in omne Virgo Nobilis jEvum. Hor. •3jf W '& ? f f f f f f f if f f f tt'W f ® t ■# 3f "8? 'tf . V o l. II. A a ( H9 ) TO THE R E A E R H E Cid ot Monfieur Corneille (from whence the following Scenes are drawn) has made fuch an Eclat on all the Theatres of Europe, that were I ro be wholly filent on the Side of the Herokk Daughter, the great Liberties I have taken, in altering the Conduct of his Fable, might be more imputed to a vain Opinion of my own Judgment, than any Foundations in Reafon or Nature : But I hope I {hall ft and upon better Terms with the Impartial, and the Curious. I am not infenfible what vaft Odds will be offer'd againft me, while I am entering the Lifts with fo iam'd an Au- thor as Corneille : but that fhall not difcourage me ; for I look up- on Truth in an Argument to be, like Courage in a Combat, the beft Advantage a Man can have over his Antagonift: 'tis not his Fame ought to fright me ; for let mine be never (o obfcure, if I am in the Right, his being in the Wrong will be no more a Wonder, than that a Watchman's plain Staff fhould foil the Sword of a Field-Officer. A a z But i8o To the RE ABE R. B u t I have a farther View, That while I am comparing the Two Plays, I may give the Lovers of the Theatre fome Infight into the Merit and Difficulty of forming a good Fable ; and that even our common Spectators, who find themfelves unaccounta- bly pleas'd with a pathetick Scene, may be more pleas'd, by knowing they have Reafon to be fa. I t may perhaps be expected, I fhould offer fome Excufe for not publiihing this Piece till feven Years alter its firft Appearance on the Stage ; and you will probably anfwer, I had as good have laid nothing about it, as to tell you it has been little better than Idlenefs, or Indifference : For it having done my Bufinefs, when acted, I confefs I wanted the modern Appetite for Fame, which Authors ufually think follows them into the Country after Publi- cation. But it I had any real Caufe to defjr it, it was from an Obiervation I had made, that mod: of my Plays (except the firft, The Fool in Fafhion) had a berter Reception from the Publiclr, when my Intereft was no longer concern'd in them ; I therefore fuppos'd this might have a fairer Chance for Favour, when the AudiOr had no farther Stake upon it : And I hope I may be al- lowed the honeft Vanity of this Complaint, while I have (to my Coft) (o many Facts to fupport it Every Auditor, whole Memory will give him leave, cannot but know, that Richard the Third, "which I alter'd from Shakejpear, did not raife me Five Pounds on the Third Day, though tor feveral Years fince it has ieldom, or never, failed' of a crowded Audience The Fofs Fortune lagg'd on the Fourth Day, and only held up its Heatl by the Heels of the French Tumblers ; who, it feems, had ib much Wit in their Limbs, that they fore d the Town to fee it, till it laugh'd itfelf into their good Graces The Kind Jmpojiw did not pay the Charges on the Sixth Day, though it has fince brought me, as a Sharer, more than I was then dif appointed of as Author 'Twas at firft a moot Point, whether the Carelefs Husband fhould live or die ; but the Houfes it has fince fill'd have reproach'd the former Coldnefs of its Auditors The Wifes Resentment is an- other, though not an equal, Inftance of the fame Nature. But not to take the Particularity of this Treatment wholly to myfelf, I confefs it has fometimes been the Fate of the better Authors : To the READER. 1S1 Authors : Nor ought we (b much to wonder at it, if we confider, that there is in Human Nature a certain low latent Malice to all laudable Undertakings, which never dares break out upon any- thing, with io much Licence, as on the Fame ot a Dramatick Writer : For even the lavifh Applauie, which is uiiially heap'd upon his fir ft Labours, is not periiaps fo entirely owing to their real Admiration of the Work itfelf, as the mean Pleafure they take in 1 welling him up to rival the Reputation of others, who have writ well before him : If he fucceeds in a firft Play, let him lcok well to the next; for then he is enter'd the Herd as a Com- mon Enemy, and is to know that they, who gave him Fame, can take it away ; he is then to be allow'd no more Merit or Mercy than the reft of his Brethren :• Of which nothing can be a ftronger Inftance, than the Torrent of Applaufe that was defervedly thrown in upon The Old Batchelor, and the boifterous Cavils that the next Year unreafbnably over-run the fame Author's Play ot The Double Dealer : And I am apt to believe, that after the Succeis of The Funeral, it was the fame Caprice that deferted The Tender Husband ; and that all this is not mere Conjecture onlv, I beg leave to relate a Matter of Fact, that perhaps will better incline you to my Opinion. When the Heroick Daughter was fiift acted, I had the Curio- fity (not having then any Part in it) iometimes to Hip unfeen in- to the Side-Boxes, where I met with the higheft Mixture of Plea- fure and Mortification : The Pleafure was in obfervins, the Gene- rality ot the Audience in a filent, fix'd Attention, never failing, by their Looks or Geftures, to difcover thoie pleafing Emotions of the Mind, which I was always confident would ariie from io ele- vated a Subje<5t : Tne Mortification was from a Set of well-drefs'd merry-making Criticks, who call themfelves The Town, whole pri- vate Wit was continually inflating the publick Diversion, by their waggifli Endeavours to burlefque every thins;, which feem'd to have a ferious Effect on their Neighbours ; and treating the poor Rogue the Author (who ftood with his Hat over his Eves at their Elbow) with the utmoft Infults, Scandal, and Malevolence: And when the Play was over, fbme of the fame Perfons (which had like to have made me laugh) came, and wifh'd me Joy of its i8z To the READER. its Succefs. But I have fince feen frequent Inftances, that the fame fort o£ Auditors, with a little Management, have been made as enterprizins; Friends to other Authors, as they were then Ene- mies to me : For with fome leading Man of the Town, or cele- brated Wit at the Head of them, they have been often known, by their overbearing' manner of Applaufe, to make a wretched (ickly Play ftand ftoutly upon its Legs for Six Days together : But (as in mine, and moil: Cafes) when they are not Co engag'd and mar- fhal'd, they naturally run Riot into Mifchief and Cruelty. Up- on the whole, till this Accident convinc'd me, I never could be- lieve, that to bring a Play upon the Stage was to invidious a Task : and as it was with great Reluctance that I from hence re- folv'd never to trouble the Town with another, fo I found it ne- ceffary (while I was a Player at lead) not to put People of mere Pleafure and Fortune in mind, that I durft pretend to any Ta- lent that their Footmen might not be equally Mailers of: And if, in breach of this Refolution, I have fince attempted, in the Non- Juror, to expofe the Enemies of our Conftitution and Liberties, it was becaufe I knew the Friends of the Government would fe- cure me a fair Hearing, and from all fuch Apprehenfions of being difturb'd by the wanton Malice of a few Petits Maitres : not but I flatter myfelf, that even its Enemies will allow, I gave their Principles fair Play in the Characters of Sir John Woodvllle and Charles, who were no where fhewn in a contemptible Light ; and, 1 hope, it was no great Malice to make them amiable in their. Converfion If therefore I have not juftly accounted for the Neglect, or Difcouragement, which mod of my other Plays met with at fir ft, I fhall, however, beg leave of the World to com- fort my felf, with fuppofing, that their prefent Succefs is now, one way or other, owing to their Merit : But I have rambled too far from my firft Defign, which was to give you An To the READER. 183 An E X a M E n of the Cid and the Heroick Daughter. TH E great Beauties of the French Play are, in the tender Companion that riles from the Misfortunes of the two Lovers Rodrigue and Chimene ; but fhould we not be much more lenfible of their Diftrefs, if before we faw them unfortunate, we were firft rais'd to a proper Admiration of their Perfons and Vir- tues : They may indeed, as in the Cid, move us limply as Lo- vers ; but as fetch Lovers, their Sorrows would certainly ftrike deeper into the Hearts of an Audience. In this point Corneilie ieems defective ; for he opens his Play with a cold Converfation between Chimene and her Su'wante, whom Chimene defires to re- peat what Reafon fhe had to fuppofe the Count her Father was inclin'd to prefer her favour'd Lover Rodrigue, to his Rival Don S cmchez^. By the way fhe owns, in the fame Scene, fhe has heard all this before ; but when an Author wants to acquaint his Au- dience with a neceffary Fad:, nothing is fo common, as to make fome Perfon in the Play improbably defirous to hear it over again. A poor Shift ! we fee through it, 'tis lazy he could not but know, that Art is eft celare Artem. After Chimene is intbrm'd, that her Father has allow'd Rodrigue the Perfon molt worthy of her, fhe thinks the News too good to be true, and is ftill (though fhe can't very well tell why) afraid it will come to nothing ; and fo quaintly walks oft, to as little purpofe as [he came on. 1 n all this Scene Chimene utters no one Sentiment, that can poiiibly draw to her the leaft Efteem from the Audience ; we only as yet fee her a marriageable young Woman, that is willing to have a Husband A poor letting out for the Heroine of a Trage- dy ; the Hero indeed is lefs faultily manag'd, for he never ap- pears till he enters at once into his . Dill refs of being oblig'd to revenge the Blow his Father had juft receiv'd, upon the Father of his Mi ft refs, who gave it. This Incident is doubtlefs of uncom- mon Beauty ; but had we been better acquainted with the Merit and Digniry of his Paflicn for the Daughter of his Enemy, before Uis critical Entrance on that Occafion, our Imagination would have 184 To the READER. have had a much higher Alarm at the firft Sight of them j and this was palpably evident, from the different Surprize his Hidden Appearance gave in the Heroick Daughter at London, to what I obferv'd it had in the fame Scene or the Cid, when acted at Paris. I n the Englifh Play more Care is taken to make the Audience fure, the Son brings with him the higheft Sentiments of Courage, Love, and Honour, that muft make a fenfible Heart tremble at the immediate Diftrefs, in which his firft Appearance fhews him involved. The fecond Scene in the Cid breaks into the Apartment ot the Infanta, who is lecretly in love with Rodrigue ; but her Ho- nour combating with the Inequality of his Birth, ihe reiblves to iacrifice her Paflion to her Glory ; and, in order to it, ufes her utmoft Endeavours to advance his Marriage with her Rival Chi- mene : There is fomething Co romantick, lb cold, and inactive in this Epifode, and fo very little conducive to the main Defign, that I have left it quite out of the Heroick Daughter, and fup- plyd the Vacancy with the Character of Belzjara, to whom I have given a more natural Intereft to advance the Marriage of Ximena, which is to make Don Sanchez*, (whom Belz^ara is con- tracted to) defpair of her. Corneille feems, even in this Scene too, to have loft a fair Occafion of heightening the Character of Rodrigue, and preparing the Audience in his Favour ; but the Infanta, in no part or it, mentions the leaft Motive to her Paf- fion for him, ur.lefs that he is a Jeune Cavalier. The next Scene introduces the Quarrel, and the Blow given to the Father of Rodrigue, by the Father of his Miftrefs, and this is the firft Scene of the Cid, that is made life of in the Heroick Daughter : This Quarrel feems too fudden and unprepafd, and wants the Terror that would naturally arife from it, if, as I ob- ferv'd, the Audience were prepofTefs'd with a proper Admiration of the Lovers, whofe approaching Ruin they would then be more nearly concern'd for ; and this Concern I have attempted to give, by the Preparation of a whole firft Act in The Heroick Daughter, which is intirely unborrow'd, and previous to the firft opening Beauties of the Cid : The Heroick Obligations that have palled between the two Lovers (whom I call Carlos and Ximena) before To the READER. 189 before they fecretly entertain, or publickly avow, their Pafiion : The gentle manner of Ximends firfb foftening the Prejudice of Alvarez*, the iblemn Interpolation of the King, to heal the Here- ditary Feud or their Families, and his crowning their Reconcile- ment with the immediate Union of the Lovers, were all intended to give a Dignity to their Pafiion, and confequently to move the Audience with a quicker Senfe of their enfiiing Calamities, than if (as they are in the Cid) they had been only fhewn, in their mere lawful Defire of being vertuous Bedfellows. Though Terror teems the Favourite Pafiion of Cor 'net lie, and what he ufually paints in much more lively Colours than his Objects of Pity ; yet the fatal Rupture, that ruins the Happinefs of theie Lovers, lofes half its Force and Beauty, for want of Art or Pains in preparing it : For Terror mull certainly rife in pro- portion to the Object it menaces j and we cannot be as much concern'd for the Misfortunes of Merit unknown, as for what is evident and confpicuous : and till that Rupture happens, we are (in the Cid) utter Strangers to the Merit of Rodrigue and Chimene. But belldes all this, the Quarrel itfelf teems an Accident merely arifing from the brutal Temper of the Count, and the Spectator might as well expect, from the beginning of the Scene, that it was to end in a friendly Conclulion of their Chil- drens Marriage, as their (o unforefeen and violent Enmity : And though Surprize is a necelTary Part of Tragedy, yet that Surprize is never to be abrupt ; for when it is fo, it is more apt to lhock than delight us : we do not love to be Harried into a Pleafure. As an Audience ought never to be wholly let into the fecret De- fign of a Play, {o they ought not to be intirely kept out of it ; you may fafely leave room for the Imagination to guefs at the nature of the Thing you intend, and are onlv to furprize them with your Manner of bringing it about : As in the fecond Act of Drydens All for Love, where Mark Anthony feems confirm'd in his Refolution to part with Cleopatra ; yet when he once con- fents to expoflulate with her in Perfon, though you eafily forelee the Cornell is to end to her Advantage, yet you are far from lofing the Pleafure of your Surprize, while it is fo artfully exe- V o l. II. B b cuted : i86 To the READER. cured : nay, you have a further Delight, from the private Ap- plaufe you s;ive to your own Judgment, in fo rightly forefeeing the Conclufion ; and to this Reafon may be attributed the Suo cefs of moft Allegorical Writings But here (in this Scene of the Quarrel in the Cid) is an important Action brought about, and you know not what it means, till it is over. Then indeed you fee What ? why, that the hopes of the young Couple's Wedding are all blown up : like enough, but the Audience have as yet no great Reafon to be concern'd at it, they know very little of them. Beildes, the Scene is half over before you know who the old Men are, or what their Quarrelling can fig- nify : fo that your Admiration cannot go along with the Perfor- mance, and your Attention is either loft, or in pain, till the Au- thor explains himfelf ; which is afterwards too late, your Imagi- nation is not at leifure to look {o far back for the Propriety of what's paft ; you are then to be intent upon what is to come, or elfe what you have feen is but an Interruption to what you are to fee ; the Cafe of many a modern Play. This Lazinefs, or want of Skill in an Author, does not give an Auditor fair Play for his Money ; it will not let him fee all the Play, nor is it enough to lay, the Scene is notwithftanding natural If you cannot fay it has Art, as well as Nature, you praife it but by halves. I Cannot omit another Objection to the Character of the Count, who is fo infolent, fierce, and turbulently vain of his Merit, that he is below the Dignity of the Subject : Nor will his being a Spaniard excufe it, they are all Spaniards in the Play ; and though a ridiculous Pride is natural to the Nation, we are not, by that Rule, to fhew a Frenchman dancing, or a Dutchman drunk in a Tragedy. In ihort, he is a mere Miles Gloriofus, and makes (o difagreeable a Figure, that we have much ado to think him an Object worthy of that filial Regard and Duty which Chi- mene pays to his Memory. I therefore thought it neceilary, in higher Juftification of her Sorrows and Virtue, to make him more civiliz'd and rational in the Heroick Daughter j his honourable and open Reconcilement to Alvarez^ ', his generous Compat lion for the Diftrefs of Carlos, whom he had reduc'd to the Ne- ceflity of righting him j his Humanity and Honour (in cafe he fell To the READER. 187 fell by his Sword) in bequeathing him his Daughter, were all at- tempted to give the Audience, as well as Ximena, a more juf- tifiable Regret for the Lofs of him The only Reafon Ccr- neilie feems to have for making him fo brutal, is to introduce an unreafonable Quarrel, from whence all the Diftrefs of the Play was to rife. I have like wife attempted to remove that Objec- tion, by grounding the Jealoufy and Refentment of the Count upon the fiibtle Infinuations of Sanchez>, it being the immediate (though difhonourable) Intereft of his Love to Ximena, by any Artifice to obftru<5t her Marriage with Carlos. This Expedient I thought would make the Count more excufable in his violent Meafures, and might remove the Odium that lay hard upon him in the Cid, by throwing it upon Sanchez, whole Character here may better endure it. The next Scene of Moment that follows the Quarrel, is the Challenge, which is deliver'd with fo vaunting a Boafl by Ro- drigue, that one would imagine he thought it firft prudent to frighten his Enemy, before he fought him ; and truly, by the Be- haviour of the Count, he feems to have carry'd his Point : for after the Challenge is made, the Count as pleafantly evades it, by pretending to be offended with Rodriguez Prefumption, in calling him to an Account. In fhort, they debate fo heartily, that you begin to lofe your Apprehenfion of its coming to Mif- chief; for even after they feem both determin'd, and going out, the Count is refolv'd to have tother Chance for refuming the Debate, and fays briskly to Rodrigue Art thou fo weary of thy Life ? But I think nothing can better expofe the Abfurdity or the Queition, than the fbrewd Anfwer which is made to it, njiZi. What are you afraid to die ? There is Reafon in the An- fwer, but (between two Men of Honour) there could be none for the Queftion. This fort of Behaviour I could not be reconciled to, and have taken the liberty, in the firft fix Lines of the Scene, to get the Challenge accepted with the plain Language of a Man de- termined. And though I could not allow them to expostulate, while their Courage was only in queftion ; yet 1 could not help thinking the Lover, in fome part of the Scene, owed a Sigh or B b z two 188 To the READE R. two to the Terrors of his Miftrefs, and the certain Mifery his Honour was then going to reduce her to ; which would have been ftill unqueflionable, though his Regard to her had here fhewn its lafl Effort, to right his Injuries with a bloodlefs Reparation : For though he had before debated himfelf into a Refolution of revenging them, yet nothing is more natural than to fee Love turn back, and back again, tor another laft Adieu. I fhall here beg leave to quote a few Lines from the Scene itfelf, as the fhortefl way of explaining how I have conducted it When the Place of Meeting is juft going to be appointed, Carlos flops fhort and fays to the Count, One Moment's Refpite for XimenaV fake, She has not wrong a me, and my Heart would J pare her : We both, without a Stain to either s Honour, May pity her Diftrefs, and paufe to fa Thy Carlos, once thought worthy of thy Arms, Be draggd a publick Spectacle to Jujlice, To draw the irkfome Pity of a Crowd, Who may, with vulgar Reafon, call thee cruel \ My Death from thee will elevate thy Vengeance, And fljew, like mine, thy Duty fcornd AJffiance. But the greateft Omifllon in this Scene, is that Chimene Co far forgets her filial Duty, as to take no Precaution, not fo much as his Word of Honour, that Rodrigue fhall appear to anfwer his Crime to the Law ; fhe is indeed concern'd for her Reputation, and, on that account, only deiires him to leave her ; her lafl Concern, when they part at the end of the Scene, is, u Et fur tout Garde bien, quon Te voye. This makes their Meeting look too like a modern Intrigue : I have therefore endeavoured to give her a better Reafon for releasing him ; when he reproaches her with want of Love, in refufing his Defire to fall by her Hand, fhe replies Can Hate have Part in Interviews like this ? Art thou not now within my -power to feiz^e ! Tet TU releafe thee, Carlos, on thy Word ; Give me thy Word, that on the Morrow's JSfoon {Before the King, in P erf on, thou zvilt anfwer, And take the Shelter of the Night to leave me. I D o not fee how the Scene could pofTibly be faid to have a juft Conclufion, but by this mutual Difcharge of their Duty for the prefent : And when Carlos had given his Honour to appear, then To the READER. 15)3 then indeed there is a more pardonable and natural Excufe for the Tendernefs they fall into ; which, though the Header mull: be charm'd with in the Original, I have ventur'd to alter, to make them more agreeable to the Spectator. The next Scene breaks into the Street, where the Father of Rodrigue is wandering up and down alone in fearch of his Son ; a very ilender Mark or his Wifdom, and puts one in mind of a vulgar Saying To look for a Needle, ckc. Nay, he does all this, though he has Five Hundred Friends in his Houfe (whom he had drawn together to vindicate the Caufe of his Honour) waiting for him ; and there is no Excuie appears for his leaving them alone, or why fome do not attend him Abroad : Where he entertains the Audience with a long Account (which he gives to himfelf) of his Condition, in pointed Conceits, and quaint An- tithefes, that would be much prettier in an Epigram At laft he meets with his Son, with whom he fails into a tedious Ar- gument ; and to comfort his Sorrow for the Lofs of his Miftrefs, tells him, there are more Women than Ximena, and would have him fhew the Greatnefs of his Heart, in fhaking -off its Weaknefs for her. This feems unpardonable, and {tains the Character of the Father ; for to fuppofe him capable of changing his Mi(- trefs, takes away half the Merit of the Son's having reveng'd his Honour : which, had he not inviolably loved her, had only fhewn his Courage in common with other Men. The Anfwer the Son makes him, indeed is truly Great, which it might eaiilv be, when he had fo difhonourable a Thought to oppofe ; fo that the one Speech is only fine from the other's being improper, I mi°,ht fay, unnatural. This Scene feems extremely cold, after the Spirit and warm Paftion in the preceding one ; Care lliould be always taken, in fuch Cafes, not to fufrer the Attention to lan^uifh, but (as Horace lays —Semper ad eventum fefiinet) when the Sub- ject will not iuffer us to exceed what is gone before, we fliould at lead keep our Hearers awake, by being buly about new Matter and Action, plainly neceflary to carry on the Story of the Play. All that feems ufeful in this Scene, is the laft Speech of it, which is the only one that is taken into the Heroick Daughter : Vol. II. Cc There 1^4 To the READE R. There Alvarez appears at the Head of his Friends in his own Houfe, where his Son may be fuppofed, with more probability, to come to him : But Corneille honeftly tells us, in his Examen of the Cid, that the Reafon why he did not bring on Don Diegue, with his Friends about him, was becaufe thofe Perfonages are generally fupply'd by aukward Fellows and Candle-Snuffers A miferable Sign of the Lownefs of the French Theatre, when fo great an Author is forc'd to reftrain his Fancy, and to commit an Abfurdity, to make his Play fit for the Stage But this not be- ing our Cafe here, I had the liberty of Writing as well as I could. After Corneille has done his Scene, I have given the Son a Solilo- quy, that I thought would be a new Motive to the Companion of the Audience ; it your Curiofity is as warm as my Vanity could wifh it, you will now turn to it at the End of the Fourth Act. The two laft Acts of the Cid, though in Nature they may be finely written, lofe half their Force for want of Art : All thofe great Sentiments which Chimene utters to the Infanta, in the be- ginning of the Fourth Act, are improper in that Place j for flie is not only arguing her Cafe with one that has nothing to do with it, but fhe is merely talking while fhe fhould be doing. We are impatient for the Ifl'ue of her Appeal to the King, and it is no Excufe to the Hearer, that the King's Daughter flops her by the way, when it was in the Poet's Choice to have fent the King's Daughter to Prayers, or any other Employment in the mean time — In fhort, the Author feems to want Matter for two Acts more, and is reduc'd to thefe Shifts to give the Audience full Meafure for their Money : But the Heroick Daughter, having a whole firft Act added before the Action of the Cid begins, of confequence transfers the Third Act of the French Play into the Fourth of the Englifh ; by which Expedient, the neceiTary Mat- ter of the two laft Acts of the one, are eafily contain'd in the fin- gle Fifth Act of the other. The next Prolixity the Cid entertains us with, is the King's folemn Reception of Rodrigue, after his Defeat of the Moors ; which let it be ever fo jultly due to the Merit of the Action, yet To the READER. ipara is prefent, and in the Court,, feems more excufable, than her receiving his Vifit in open Day, in her private Apartment. And that your Patience might not languifh, the Combat immediately follows his parting from her ; and though you fee nothing of that Engagement on the Stage, yet your Imagination all the while enjoys it in the Alarms and Terrors of jtimena, which, upon every diftant Sound of the Trumpet, fhe is differently thrown into. And I have al- ways obferv'd, that when any thing of moment is heard to he doing from behind, that has a warm Effect upon the Actors in fight, it feems to give a double Delight to the Audience. This Incident is entirely my own, and yet, I flatter myfelf, not the leaft artful in that Play. The Return of Sanchez^, from the Com- bat too* is here prepar'd witli fuch Circiimftances, as might more probably To the READ ER. 197 probably lead Ximena into the Miftake of his being the Victor but all this is languidly interrupted in the Cid, by making the Infanta's melancholy Pailion break into the warmeft Connection of die Szory ; and Chimene too, for want of having her Imagina- tion ftirr'd with fiich various Notice of the Combat, which the Trumpet crives her, falls again into an inactive and declamatory Account of her Calamities, which, in a laft Act, ever furfeits the Attention. After the Combat, fhe accofts the King with a long Argument, on a Supposition that Rodrigue is dead, wherein fhe begs to be re- leas'd from her Obligation to marry Sanchez* as the Victor, and bar- ters to reward him with her Fortune, which fhe is willing to fettle upon Sanchez, for his Trouble, provided (he may have leave to di£ pofe of her Perfon in a Nunnery All this the King hears without undeceiving her, as to Rodrigue s being alive, which is not only im- probable, but needlefly carries her Miftake farther than it will bear, to be beautiful. In the Hcroick Daughter, the very Inftant fhe hints at the Death of Carlos, the King rectifies her Miftake ; which pre- vents that odd Project of compremizing the Matter with Sanchez,, and lets the Hearer fooner into Matter of more Importance. The King too here is only an Advocate, not a Tyrant, for Carlos ; and Ximena, having made no Promife to marry the Victor, avoids that Violation of her Duty ; which, in the Cid, the abfolute Power of the King would impofe on her. But here he is i b ten- der of her Virtue, that he even fuffers not Carlos to approach her, without leave And now we come to the laft Conflict of her Heart, which concludes in a Refolution, not to truft her Love in fight of him that had killed her Father, but to ihut her Sorrows from the World in a Cloifter. And I am of opinion, it was im- poflible, under fuch Misfortunes, to difpoie of her otherwife, without breaking into the Laws of Honour and Virtue. Well i but though you grant me this, we are here ftill at a lofs ; this can be no abfolute Conclufion of the Play, the Matter Hands juft as it did three Acts ago, the Lovers were parted then, and all wc have done with them fince comes to no more. Corneille feems to be plung'd in this Difficulty, and, in mv humble Opinion, had much better have parted them for ever, than have brought them together 198 To the READER. together with fo wretched a Violation of Chimerics Character.: In fhort, his Expedient comes to no more than this, that the King skives her leave, for Decency's fake, to be virtuous a Year longer ; out after that's expir'd, he obliges her (and fhe tacitly confents) to marry the Man that has killed her Father : As if a difhonoura- ble Action could be juftify'd, by our flaying a Year before we commit ir. There feem'd therefore to me but one way, in nature, to bring them decently together, which was by removing the funda- mental Caufe ot their Separation : If therefore, without offending Nature or Probability, we can make the Father of Ximena recover of his Wounds, I fee no Reafon why every Auditor might not in •Honour congratulate their Happinefs. By this Expedient their Story is instructive, and thefe Heroick Lovers ftand at lafl two fair Examples of rewarded Virtue : But it is now time to con- clude. Notwithstanding all our critical Amendments, it muft be allow'd, that the firft Happinefs of a Tragick Writer depends ,on his Choice of a proper Subject ; without that, his Art and Ge- nius are but mifemploy'd : If therefore there be any thing more, than my not being; a fiifricient Mafter of Style, that could make The Heroick Daughter lefs fuccelsful than the Cid, I can allow it might be like wife owing to the Subject, of which, perhaps, the chief Characters are too feverely virtuous for the Homefpun Mo- rals of our Englifh Audience : Whereas the French' mn into the other Extreme ; with them your Hero muft be virtuous, even to Romance, or he is infutferable : but Good-Nature is {o diftin- guifhing a Characteriftick of the Englifh, that the French have no word to exprefs it ; and the Perfons tliat We often fit) in our Plays, a French Critick would tell you ought to be hanged by Poetical juftice. But we are fo tender-hearted, that let the Characters of our Tragedies be ever fb criminal, yet if you can but make them penitent and miferable, refign'd and humble in their Afflic- tions, we forget all their old Faults, take them immediately into Favour, and the Handkerchiefs of a whole Audience fhall be xvgz with their Misfortunes. This Effect is frequent at the Tragedy of Venice Prejervd ; where Jaffeir, after having been a Conipirator asainft To the READER. 199 againft his Country from a private Revenge, after his betraying that Confpiracy, and the Life of his deareft Friend, from the Im- portunities of a Wire, whom his Weaknefs could not refift, yet makes his Peace with the Audience at laft, and dies furrounded with their Companion : I am therefore convinc'd, that criminal Characters, {o artfully conducted, have much the Advantage of the Perfect and Blamelefs ; and, perhaps, 'tis the Narrownefs of the French Genius, that would never let their bed Authors attempt to raife Companion upon fuch bold and natural Foundations. But, on the other fide, it would be hard to infer from hence that Characters, nearer to Perfection, ought not as well to appear the Principals of Tragedy: Both Carlos and Ximena have their Imperfections, and I allow are moil: to be pity'd, when they are leaft able to refift them : I cannot therefore but infift, that the Cid has all the Greatnels, Dignity, and Diftrefs in the Subject that Tragedy requires ; and though it may have had too many Hearers of an uncultivated Tafte, who think it inclines to the Romantick ; yet if Filial Duty, Love, and Honour, in the higheft Inftances of Self-denial, are not imaginary Virtues, then certainly all its Structures are upon exalted Nature. Let the common Practice of Mankind be what it will, it is not unnatural to be virtuous ; and it ought to be more commendable to pity the Misfortunes of the Virtuous, than of mofe who owe their Diftrefs to their immediate criminal Conduct. But I am, notwithstanding, willing to com- pound for the Inference, by granting, that when a capable Genius lets himfelf" to work, there may juftly be room for Succefs upon either Foundation. PRO ( 2100 ) / PROLOGUE. JSflflJ S oft, in formd Ajfemblies of the Fair, §; A *5 ^* fir ait-lac d Prude will no loofe Paffwn bear, IwHiMajii Beyond Jet Bounds no Lover muft addrefs, vfrMM^t But jeer et Flame in dijlant Sighs exprefs ; Tet if by Chance fome gay Coquette fails in, A joyous Murmur breaks the fdent Scene ; Each Fie art reliev'd by her enliv'ning Ere, Feels eafy Hope, and unconfin'd Defire : c Fhen fhuddering Prudes, ivith fecret Envy burn, And treat the Fops, they could not catch, with Scorn. So Plays are valud, not confind to Rules, Thofe Prudes, the Cri ticks call them, Feafts for Fools; And if an ^Audience 'gain ft thofe Rules ts warm'd, Or by the lawlefs Force of Genius charm'd, Their whole Confederate Body is alarm d : Then every Features falfe, though ne'er fo taking, The Heart's deceiv'd, though 'tis with Pleafure aking; They'll prove your Charmer's not agreeable : Thus far'd it with the Cid of Fanid Corneille. In France 'twas charg'd with Faults were pafl enduring, But ft ill had Beauties, that were fo alluring, It rais'd the Envy of the Grave Richlieu, And, fpite of his Remarks, cramm'd Houfes drew : Of this AJJertion, if the Truth you'll know, Two Lines will prove it from the Great Boileau : En vain contre le Cid un Miniftre le ligue, Tout Paris pour Chimene a les veux de Rodrigue. In Prologue. In vain againft the Cid the Statefman arms, Paris with Rodrick feels Ximends Charms. This proves, when Pafjion truly wrought appears, In Plays imperfect, 'twill command your Tears : Tet think not, from what's faid, we Rules defpife. To raife your Wonder from Absurdities. As France improvd it from the Spanifri Pen, We hope, now Britifh, 'tis improvd again : aAnd though lop Tragedy has long Jeemd dead, Tet having lately raised her aweful Head ; To-night, with Pains and Cofl, we humbly jlrive To keep the Spirit of that Tafie alive : But if, like Phaeton, in CorneilleV Carr, Tti unequal Mufe unhappily fhould err ; At leaji you 11 own from glorious Heights fhe fell , And there s fome Merit in attempting well. 201 Vol. II. Dd Dramatis Dramatis Perfona* M E N. Don Ferdinand. Don Alvarez,. Don Gormaz,, Count of GormaZi, Don Carlos. Mr. Mih. Mr. Cibber. Don Alonz>o. Don Garcia. King of Caftille. CHis late General, and Fa ") ther of Don Carlos. .The prefent General, andC M[ ^ fc 1 Father or Ximena. -> In love with Ximena. Mr. J^'/ta. ~ „ , r His fecret Rival, tho late--, , , r/ • .„„ DonWtf*. { lybeaoth-dto^fc-r*}^- 5 ***"* < Officers of the Court. Mr. Thurmond. Mr. Boman. Ximena. Belz>ara» WOMEN. Daughter to Gormaz,. Mrs. Oldfield. {Her Friend, § forfaken by} MrsiW> *■ Don Sanchez,, The SCENE, The Royal Palace in Seville. C 203 ) THE HEROIC!^ DAUGHTER. 2S3S ; ^jjAj fg^fy fyt&} t*;tft H§ftj fM V) &W ^J (££& fS£) &£& rS& (&Sr) ^S2S * 1 £ Jft &!-i} tw?^ c iJ-A •*•* • } £X ^C->X« Apart. D.San. Thou, that haft Patience then, relieve my Torture. 3 Car. O Xtmena ! how my Heart's opprefs'd with Shame ? Thou giv'ft me a Confufion equal to My Joy ; I yet am laggard in my Duty, I muft defpair to reach with equal Vermes Dread CormazJ Heart, as thou haft touch'd Alvarez,. Xim. That Flope we muft to Providence refign ; The King intends this Day to found his Temper, Which, tho fevere, I know is generous, In Honour great, as in Refentments warm, Fierce to the Proud, but to the Gentle yielding ; The Goodnefs of Alvarez, muft fubdue him. Alon. My Lord, I heard the King enquiring for yon. (Al-v. Sir, I attend his Majeity, 1 thank vou. Xim. The H e r o i c k Daughter. 207 Xim. Saw you the Count, my Father, in the Pretence ? Alon. Madam, I left him with the King this Inftant, Withdrawn to th' Window, and in Conference. Xim. 'Twas his Command I ffiould attend him there. Ah. Come, fair Ximena, if thy Fathers Ear Inclines, like mine, unprejudic'd to hear : His Hate jubdu d, will Publick Good regard, And crown thy Virgin Vertues with Reward. [Ex. Alv. Car. Xim. D. San. Help me, AlonZjO, help me, or I fink, Th'Oppreflion is too great for Nature's Frame, And all mv Manhood reels beneath the Load : O Rage ! O Torment of fuccefslefs Love ! oAlon. Alas ! I warn'd you of this Storm before, Yet you, incredulous and dear^ defpis'd it ; But fince your Hopes are blafted in their Bloom, Since vow'd Ximena never can be yours, Forget the Folly, and relume your Reafon : Recover to your Vows your Love betroth'd, Return to Honour, and the wrong'd Bel&ara. D. San. Why doit thou ftill obftrudt my Happineis, And thwart the Pailion that has feiz'd my Soul ? . A Friend (fiould help a Friend in his Extreames, And not create, but diflipate his Fears. 'Tis true, I fee Ximenas Heart is given, But then her Perfon's in a Father's power ; He, I've no caufe to fear, will flight my OfFers. Thou know'ft th' Averfion that he bears <>Al-varez>, Bars, like a Rock, her Willies from their Harbour : While Carlos has a Fear, lhall I defpair ? Has not the Count his Pallions too to pleafe, And will he ftarve his Hate to feed her Love ? May I not hope he rather may embrace The fair Occafion of my timely Vows, To torture Carlos with a fure Defpair, And force Ximena to ailift his Triumph ? Nay ZOS ^he Heroic k Daughter. Nay {lie, perhaps, when his Commands are hYd, In Pride of Venue may refift her Love, Supprefs the Paflion, and refign to Duty. oAlon. Why will you tempt fucli Seas of wild Difquiet, When Honour courts you in a Calm to Joy ? Belzjtra's Charms are yielded to your Hopes, Contracted to your Vows, and warm'd to Love ; Ximena Fcarce has Knowledge of your Flame, Without Reproach {he racks you with Deipair, And muft be perjufd, could her Heart relieve you. D. San. Let her relieve me, I'll forgive the Guilt, Forget it, fmorher in her Arms the Thought, And drown the charmiag Fallhood in the Joy. Alon. What wild Extravagance of youthful Heat Obfcuresyour Honour, and deitroys your Reafon ? D. San. I am not oi that lirelefs Mould of Men, That plod the beaten Road of vertuous Love ; With me 'tis joyous Beauty gives Defire, Defire by Nature gives inftinCtive Hope : The Phoenix Woman fets herfelf on fire, Hope gives us Love, our Love makes them defire, And in the Flames they raife themselves expire. Alon. Nor Love, nor Hope, can give you here Succefs. D. San. Let thofe deipair, whofe Paflions have their Bounds, Whofe Hopes in Hazards, or in Dangers die : Shew me the Object worthy of my Flame, Let her be barr'd by Obligations, Friends, By Vows engag'd, by Pride, Averfion, all The common Letts that give the Vertuous Awe ; My Love wou'd mount the tow'ring Falcon's Height, Cut thro them all, like yielding;; Air, my way, And downwards dart me rapid on the Quarry. Alon. Farewel, my Lord, (ome other time, perhaps, This Rapture may fubfide, and want a Friend j I {hall be glad to adviie, when you can hear. But, fee ! Belz^ara comes, with Eyes confus'd, That The Heroick Daughter. 200 That fpeak fome new Diforder in her Heart. Wou'd you be happy, Friend, be juft ; preferve Inviolate the honeft Vows you've made her. Farewel, I leave you to embrace th' Occafion. [Exit. Enter Belzara. Bel. I come, Don Sanchez,, to inform you of A Wrong, that near concerns our mutual Honour ; Tis whifper'd thro' the Court, that you retract Your folemn Vows by Contract feal'd to me, And with a perjur'd Heart purfue Xtmena\ Such falfe Reports fhou'd perifh in their Birth : I've done my honeft Part, and disbeliev'd em, Do yours, and by your Vows perform'd deftroy them. D. San. Madam, this tender Care of me deferves Acknowledgments beyond my Power to pay ; But Vertue always is the Mark of Malice, Contempt the beft Return that we can make it. Bel. Vertue fhou'd have fo ftrict a Guard, as not To furfer even Sufpicion to approach it. For tho', Don Sanchez,, I dare think you juft, Yet while the envious World believes you falfe, I feel their Infults, and endure the Shame. D. San. Malice fucceeds when its Report's believ'd ; Seem you to flight it, and the Monfter's mute. Bel. ]* coud have hop'd fome Caufe to make me flight it, This cold Concern to latisfy my Fears, Proclaims the Danger, and confirms them true : D. San. Then you believe me falfe ? Bel. Believe it ! Heav'n ! Am I to doubt ? What even your Looks, your Words, Your faint Evafions faithleily confefs ? Ungrateful Man ! when you betray'd my Heart, You fhou'd have taught me too to bear the Wrong. D. San. When Tears with Menaces relieve their Grief, They flow from Pride, not Tendernefs diftrefs'd. Vo l. II. E e Bel. 2 IO The Heroick Daughter. Bel. Infulting, horrid Thought ! am I accus'd Of Pride, complaining from a breaking Heart ? D. San. Behold th'unthrifty Proof of Woman's Love I Purfue you with the Sighs of faithful Paffion, You ftarve our pining Hopes with painted Coynefs r But if our honeft Hearts difdain the Yoke, Or feek, from fweet Variety, Relief, Alarm'd to lofe, what you defpis'd fecure, Your trembling Pride retraces its haughty Air, And yields to Love, purfuing when we fly. Thefe lavifh Tears, when I deferv'd your Heart, Had held me fighing to be more your Slave j But to beftow them when that Heart's broke loofe, When more I merit your Contempt than Love, Arraigns your Juftice, and acquits my Falffiood. Bel. Injurious, falfe, and barbarous Reproach ! Have I with-held my Pity from your Sighs I Or us'd with Rigour my once boundleis Power ? Am I not fworn, by teftify'd Confent, By folemn Vows contracted, yielded yours ? But what avails the Force of Truth's Appeal, Where rh' Offender is himfelf the Judge ? But yet remember, Tyrant, while you triumph, I am Don Hewick's Daughter, whom you dare betray : Henrick, whofe fam'd Revenge of injur'd Honour, Dares ftep as deep in Blood, as you in Provocations. I D. San. Since then your feeming Griefs with Rage reliev'd, Hear me, with Temper, Madam, once for alL You urge our folemn Contracl: fworn, I own The Facl, but muff deny the Obligation ; 'Twas not to me, but to a Father's Will, To Henricfis dread Commands your Pride fubmitted : Since then your Merit's to Obedience due, Seek your Reward from Duty, not from Sanchez, ; Your Slights to me live yet recorded here, Nor can your forcd Submifiions now remove them*. Ximends The Heroick Daughter. 211 Ximends fofter Heart has rais'd me to A Flame, that gives at once Revenge and Rapture. How far Don Henrick may relent the Change» I neither know, nor with Concern fhall hear ; Nay, truft your injur'd Patience to inflame him. Bel. Inhuman ! vain Provoker of my Heart, I need not urge the Ills that mull o'ertake thee ; Thy giddy Pallions will, without my Aid, Puniih their Guilt, and to themfelves be ratal. Ximends Heart is fix'd as far above Thy Hopes, as Truth and Venue from thy Soul. To her avenging Scorn I yield thy Love ; There, faithlels Wretch ! indulge thy vain Deiues, And ftarve, like tortur'd Tantalus, in Plenty : Gaz^e on her Charms, forbidden to thy Tape, FamifHd and pining at the tempting Feaft, Still racfcd, and reaching at the flying Fair, Purjue thy Falfhood, and embrace Defpair. [Exit D. San. So raging Winds, in furious Storms, arife, Whirl o'er our Heads, and are, when paft, forgotten. Enter Alonzo. Alon. Why, Sanchez^, are you ftill refolv'd on Ruin ? I met Belz>ara, in diforder'd hafle, At Sight of me fhe ftopt, and wou'd have fpoke, But Grief alas ! was <*rown too ftrone for Words : When turning, from my View, her mournful Eyes, She burft into a Show 'r of gufhing Tears, And in the Conflict of her Shame retir'd : O yet collect your Temper into Thought, And fhun the Precipice that gapes before you ; A Moment hence, convinc'd, your Eyes will fee Ximena parted from your Hopes for ever. D. San. Why doft thou double thus my new Difquiets ? For Pains forefeen are felt before they come. E e z Enter 212 The Heroick Daughter. Enter King, Gormaz, Alvarez, Carlos, Ximena, &c. Alon. Behold the King ! Alvarez, and her Fadier, Be wife, tho' late, and profit from the IiTue, King. Count Gorman you, and you Alvarez*, hear ; Tho' in the Camp your Swords, in Court your Counfel, Have juftly rais'd your Fame to envy'd Heights, Yet let me ftill deplore your Race and you, That from a long Defcent of Lineal Heat, Your private Feuds as oft have fliook the Stat e, And what's the Source of this upheld Defiance I Alas ! the ftubborn Claim of antient Rank, Held from a two-days antedated Honour, Which gave the younger Houfe Preheminence- How many valiant Lives have eas'd our Foes Of Fear, deftroy'd by this contefted Title ; And what's decided by this endlefs Valour, Whofe Honour yet confelTes the Superior ? While both dare die, the Quarrel is immortal : Or fay that Force, on one Part, has prevail'd, Is there fuch Merit in unequal Strength ? If Violence is Vertue, Brutes may boaft it : Lions with Lions grapple, and difpute; But Men are only great, truly victorious, When with fuperior Reafon they fubdue. Can you then think, you are, in Honour, bound To heir the Follies of your Anceftors ? Since they have left you Vermes and Renown, Tranfmit'not to Pofterity their Blame. Alv. and Gor. My Gracious Lord King. Yet hold, I'll hear you both. Of your Compliance, Gormaz*, I've no Doubt, This Quarrel, in your nobler Breaft, was dying, Had not, ^Alvarez*, you reviv'd it. Alv. I! Wherein, my Gracious Lord, ftand I fu (peeked I King The Heroick Daughter. 21 ? King. What elfe could mean that fallen Gloom you wore, That confcious Difcontent, fo ill conceal'd In your abrupt Retirement from our Court, When late the valiant Count was made our General? Was't not your own Requeft, you might refign it I Which tho', 'tis true, you long had fill 'd with Honour, Was it for you to circumfcribe our Choice ? T'oppofe, from private Hate, the publick Good, And, in his Cafe, whole Merit had prefer'd him ? When his fierce Temper, horn Reflection calm, Inclin'd to let the Embers of his Heat expire, Was it well done thus to revive the Flame, To wake his jealous Honour to Relentment, And fhake that Union we had laid to heart ? If thou haft ought to urge, that may defend Thy late Behaviour, or accufe his Conduct, Unfold it tree, we are prepaid to hear. Al'v. Alas ! my Lord, the World misjudges me, My Hate fuppos'd is not lb deeply rooted, Age has allay'd thofe Fevers of my Honour, And weary Nature now woud reft from Pailions. The noble Count, whole warmer Blood may boil, Perhaps is ftill my Foe ; I am not his, Nor envy him thofe Honours of his Merit. Where Vertue is, I dare be juft, and lee it. Your Majefty has fpoke your Wifdom in Your Choice, for I have Ce^a his Arm deferve it ; In all the Sieges, Battles, I have won, I knew not better to command, than he To execute : Thole Wreaths of Victory, That flourifh ftill upon this hoary Brow, Impartial I confefs, his active Sword Has lopt from Heads of Moors, and planted there. King. How has Report, my Gorman, wrong'd this. Man ? slh. Nor was the Caufe of my Retirement more, Than that I found it time to eafe my Age, Unfit ZI4 { Thc Heroick Daughter. Unfit for farther Action, and bequeath My Son the needlefs Pomp of my PoiVeffions. King, Is't poflible ? Gouldft thou conceal this Goodnefs I Cou'd iecret Verrne take fo firm a Root, While Slander, like a Canker, kill'd its Beauties ? Gormaz>, if vet thou art not Pallion's Slave, Take thou rhyfelf the Glory to reward him. Gor. My Lord, the Pailions, that have warm'd this Bread, Yet never ftirr'd but in the Cauie of Honour. Honour's the Spring that moves my active Life, And Lite's a Torment, while that's Right invaded. Shew me the Man whole Merit claims my Love, Whofe milder Virtues modeftly aifail me, And Honour throws me to his Arms a Friend. In proof of this, there needs but now to own, The generous Advances of Alvarez, Have turn'd my fierce Refentments into Shame. What can I more ? My Words but faintly fpeak me; But fince my King feems pleas'd with my Converfion, My Heart and Arms are open to embrace him. King. Receive him, Soldier, to thy Heart, and give Your King this Glory of your mutual Conqueft. [They embrace. Xim. Aufpicious Omen ! Car. O tranfporting Hope ! D. San. Adders and Serpents mix in their Embraces. [Apart, King. O Gormaz, ! O Alvarez, ! flop not here, Confine not to yourfelves your Hinted Virtue ; But, in this noble Ardour of your Hearts, Secure to your Pofteriry your Peace : [Carlos and Ximenalwe/. Behold the lifted Hands, that beg the Bleflmg, The Hearts that burn to ratify the Joy, And to your Heirs unborn tranimit the Glory. Gor. Receive her, Carlos, front a Father's Hand, Whole Heart by Obligations was fubdud. Ah. Accept, Ximena, all my Age holds dear, Not to my Bounty, but thy Merit due. King. TljO Heroick Daughter. 21 ^ King. O manly Conqueft ! O exalted Worth ! What Honours can we offer to applaud it ? To grace this Triumph of Ximends Eyes, Let publick Jubilee conclude the Day : Sound all our fprightly Inftruments of War, Fifes, Clarions, Trumpets, fpeak the general Joy. Alv. Raife high the Clangor of your lofty Notes, Sound Peace at home Cor. And Terror to our Foes. Kxng. Let the loud Cannon from the Ramparts roar, Cor. oAnd make the frighted Shores of Af rick ring, Car. Long live, and ever-glorious live, the King. [Trumpets and Volleys at a Diftance. Alv. O may this glorious Day for ever ftand Fam'd in the Rolls or late recorded Time. King. This happy Union fix'd, my Lords, we now Muft crave your Counfel in our State's Defence- — Letters this Morn alarm us with Defigns The Moors are forming to invade our Realms ; But let them be, we're now prepar'd to meet them. The Prince that would fit free from foreign Fear*, Shoud fir ft with Peace compofe inteftine Jars j Of Hearts united while fecure at Home, His rafh Invaders to their Craves muft come. ACT z\6 The Heroick Daughter. iftt sstm sife j& .** ?& *& >£S ass & *n ieuB i& ft *$ *| a Sfc ® S( 1M% & fi fi fifi ^ ? fi fifi ^ @ £> fi *^ fi fi © fi fi fi & ACT II. £7//-£T D0/; Sanchez. Elentlefs Fortune ! thou haft done thy Part, Neglected nothing to oppofe my Love ; But thou (halt find, in thy Defpight, I'll on ; Wer't thou not blind indeed, thou hadffaforefeen The Honour done this Hour to old Alvarez His being nam'd the Prince's Governor, (Which I well know th' ambitious Gorman aim'd at) Muft, like a Wildfire's Rage, embroil their Union, Rekindle Jealoufies in GormazJ Heart, Whole fatal Flame muft bury all in Allies : But lee, he comes, and feems to ruminate, With penfive Grudge, the King's too partial Favour. Gormaz on the other Side. Cor. The King, methinks, is Hidden inhisChoice--- 'Tis true, I never fought (but therefore is Not lefs the Merit) nor obliquely hinted, That I defir'd the Office He has heard Me fay, the Prince, his Son, I thought was now Of Age to change his pratling Female Court, And claim'd a Governor's inftruclive Guidance Th'Advice, it feems, was fit but not th'Advifer — ]} e ' c { - w hy is Alvarez^ then the Man ? He The Heroick Daughter. 217 He may be qualify'd, I'll not difpute But was not Gorman too of equal Merit ? Let me not think Alvarez* plays me foul That cannot be — he knew I would not bear it And yet why he's lb fuddenly preferr'd I'll think no more on't Time will foon refblve me. D.San. Not to difturb, my Lord, your graver Thoughts, May I prefume Gor. Don Sanchez, may command me. This youthful Lord is fworn our Houfe's Friend, \ r If there's a Caufe for jealous Thought, he'll find it. SlAjtae. D. San. I hear, my Lord, the King has frefh Advice receiv'd Of a defign'd Invailon from the Moors : Holds it confirm'd, or is it only Rumour ? Cor. Such new Alarms indeed his Letters bring, But yet their Grounds feem'd doubtful at the Council. D. San. May it not prove fome Policy of State ? Some bugbear Danger of our own creating ? The King, I have obferv'd, is skill'd in Rule, Perfect in all the Arts of tempering Minds, And for the Publick Good can give Alarms Where Fears are not, and hufh them where they are. Cor. 'Tis fo ! he hints already at my Wrongs. [Afidt. D. San. Not but fuch Prudence well becomes a Prince : For Peace at home is worth his deareft Purchafe : Yet he that gives his juft Refentments up, Tho' honour'd by the Royal Mediation, And fees his Enemy enjoy the Fruits, Muft have more Vermes than his King to bear it — Perhaps, my Lord, I am not underflood, Nay, hope, my jealous Fears have no Foundation j But when the Ties of Friendfhip fhall demand it, Don Sanchez, wears a Sword that will revenge you. [Going. Gor. Don Sanchez,, ftay 1 think thou art my Friend, Thy noble Father oft has ierv'd me in The Caufe of Honour, and his Caufe was mine. Vo l. II. F f What 2l8 The Heroick Daughter. What thou haft faid, fpeaks thee Balthazars Son, I need not praife thee more If I deferve Thy Love, refufe not what my Heart's concern'd To ask j fpeak freely of the King, of me, Of old Alvarez, of our late Alliance, And what has follow'd fince ; then fum the Whole, And tell me, truly, where the Account's unequal. D. San. My Lord, you honour with too great a Truft The Judgment of my unexperienc'd Years ; Yet for the Time I have obferv'd on Men, I've always found the generous open Heart Betray 'd, and made the Prey of Minds below it. ! 'tis the Curfe of manly Vertue, that Cowards, with Cunning, are too ftrong for Heroes :. And fince you prefs me to unfold my Thoughts, 1 grieve to fee your Spirit fo defeatea, Your juft Refentrnents, by vile Arts of Court, Beguil'd, and melted to refign their Terror. Your honeft Hate that had, for Ages, flood Unmov'd, and firmer from your Foe's Defiance, Now fapp'd, and undermin'd by his Submiflion. Alvarez knew you were impregnable To Force, and chang'd the Soldier for the Statefman;, While you were yet his Foe profefs'd, He durft not take thefe Honours o'er your Head ; Had you ftill held him at his Diftance due, He would have trembled to have fought this Office. When once the King inclin'd to make his Peace, I faw too well the Secret on the Anvil, And foon foretold the Favour that fucceeded. Alas ! this Project has been long concerted, Refolv'd in private 'twixt the King and him, Laid out and manag'd here by fecret Agents -, While he, good Man, knew nothing of the Honour, But, from his fweet Repofe, was dragg'd t'accept it. O ! it inflames my Blood to think his Fear Shou'd' The Heroick Daughter. 2I£ Shou'd get the Start of your unguarded Spirit, And proudly vaunt it in the Plumes he flole From you. Cor. O Sanchez, ! thou haft fir'd a Thought, That was before but dawning in my Mind : ! now afrefh it ftrikes my Memory, With what diflembled Warmth the artful King Firft charg'd his Temper with the Gloom he wore, When I iiipply'd his late Command of General. Then with what fawning Flattery to me, oAfoarez,, Fear dilguis'd his trembling Hate, And footh'd my yielding Temper to believe him. D. San. Not Flattery, my Lord ; tho I muff grant, 'Twas Praife well-tim'd, and therefore skilful. Cor. Now, on my Soul, from him 'twas loathfome Daubing . 1 take thy Friendfhip, Sanchez,, to my Heart ; And were not my Ximena raffily promis'd^— D. San. Xtmmds Charms might grace a Monarch's Bed, Nor dares my humble Heart admit the Hope ; Or, if it durft, fome fitter Time fhou'd fhew it, Refults more prefling now demand your Thought j Firft eafe the Pain of your depending Doubt, Divide this fawning Courtier from the Friend. Cor. Which way fhall I receive, or thank thy Love ? D. San. My Lord, you over-rate me now but fee, Alvarez, comes now probe his hollow Heart, Now, while your Thoughts are warm with his Deceit, And mark how calmly he'll evade the Charge : My Lord, I'm gone. [Exit. Cor. I am thy Friend for ever. Enter Alvarez. Ah. My Lord, the King is walking forth to fee The Prince, his Son, begin his Horfemanfhip ', If you're inclin'd to fee nim, I'll attend you. F f z Cor. 220 The Heroick Daughter. Gor. Since Duty calls me not, I've no Delight To be an idle Gaper on another's Bufinefs. You may indeed find Pleafure in the Office, Which you've fo artfully contriv'd to fill. Ah. Contriv'd, my Lord ! I'm forry fuch a Thought Can reach the Man, wjiorn you've (o late embrac'd. Gor. Men are not always what they ieem : This Honour Which, in another's Wrong, you've barter'd for, Was at the Price of thofe Embraces bought. Ah. Ha ! bought ! for Shame fupprefs this poor Sufpicion s For if you think you can't but be convinc'd, The naked Honour of Alvarez, (corns Such bafe Difguife yet paufe a moment— Since our Great Mafter, with fuch kind Concern, Himfelf has interpos'd to heal our Feuds, Let us not thanklefs rob him of the Glory, And undeferve the Grace by new falfe Fears. Gor. Kings are, alas ! but Men, and form'd like us, Subject alike to be by Men deceiv'd •_. The bluiliing Court, from this rafh Choice, will fee, How blindly he o'erlooks iuperior Merit. Cou'd no Man fill the Place but worn Alvarez, ? Ah. Worn more with Wounds and Victories than Age, Who ftands before him in great Actions pall ? But I'm to blame to urge that Merit now, Which will but ihock what Reafoning may convince. Cor. The fawning Slave ! O Sanchez, ! how I thank thee \~[Afid^ Ah. You have a vertuous Daughter, I a Son, Whole fofter Hearts our mutual Hands have rais'd Ev'n to the Summit of expected Joy ; If no Regard to me, yet let, at leaft Your Pity of their Parfions rein your Temper. Gor. Oneedlefs Care ! to nobler Objects now That Son be fure in Vanity pretends, While his high Father's Wifdom is preferr'd To guide and govern our Great Monarch's Son 7 His The Heroick Daughter. 221 His proud afpiring Heart forgets Ximena \ Think not of him, but your fuperior Care, InftrucT; the Royal Youth to rule with Awe His future Subjects trembling at his Frown ; Teach him to bind the Loyal Heart in Love, The Bold and Factious in the Chains of Fear - r Join to thefe Vertues too your warlike Deeds, Inflame him with the vaft Fatigues you've born, But now are paft, to Aiew him by Example, And give him in the Clofet lafe Renown. Read him what (torching Suns he muft endure ; What bitter Nights muft wake, or fleep in Arms, To countermarch the Foe, to give tli Alarm, And to his own great Conduct owe the Day. Mark him on the Charts the Order of the Battel, And make him from your Manuscripts a Hero. Ah. Ill-temper'd Man ! thus to provoke the Heart, Whofe tortur'd Patience is thy only Friend. Cor. Thou only to thy felf can'ft be a Friend ; I tell thee, falfe Alvarez^ thou haft wrong'd me, Haft bafely robb'd me of my Merit's Right, And intercepted our young Prince's Fame ; His Youth with me had found the active Proof, The living Practice of experienc'd War ; T^his Sword had taught him Glory in the Field, At once his great Example l and his Guard : His unfledg'd Wings from me had learnt to foar, And ftrike at Nations trembling at my Name : This I had done, but thou, with fervile Arts, Haft fawning crept into our Mailer's Breaft, Elbow'd fuperior Merit from his Ear, And, like a Courtier, ftole his Son from Glory. Ah. Hear me, proud Man for now I burn to fpeak, Since neither Truth can fway, nor Temper touch thee j Thus I retort with Scorn thy (land 'rous Rage : Thou Thou ! thou the Tutor of a Kingdom's Heir ' 222 The Heroick Daughter. Thou guide the Paflions of o'er-boiling Youth, That can'ft not in thy Age yet rule thy own ! For fhame retire, and purge th' imperious Heart, Reduce thy arrogant, {elf-judging Pride, Corrett the Meannefs of thy groveling Soul, Chafe damn'd Sufpicion from thy manly Thoughts, And learn to treat with Honour thy Superior. Cor. Superior ! Ha ! dar'ft thou provoke me, Traytor ? Ah- Unhand me, Ruffian, left thy Hold prove fatal. Cor. Take that, audacious Dotard ! [Strikes him. Ah. O! my Blood! Flow forward to my Arm, to chain this Tyger. If thou art brave, now bear thee like a Man, And quit my Honour of this vile Difgrace. [liny fight, Alvarez is dijarmcL O feeble Life ! I have too long endur'd thee. Cor. Thy Sword is mine $ take back th' inglorious Trophy, Which wou'd difgrace thy Victor's Thigh to wear ; Now, forward to thy Charge, read to the Prince This Martial Leclure of thy fam'd Exploits ; And from this wholefome Chaftifement, learn thou To tempt the Patience of offended Honour [Exit. Ah O Rage ! O wild Defpair ! O helplefs Age. Wert thou but lent me to furvive my Honour ? Am I with martial Toils worn grey, and fee At laft one Hour's Blight lay wafte my Laurels ? Is this fam'd Arm to me alone defencelefs \ Has it ib often prop'd this Empire's Glory, Fenc'd like a Rampart, the Caftilian Throne, To me alone difgraceful \ to its Mailer ufelefs ? O fharp Remembrance of departed Glory ! O fatal Dignity, too dearly purchas'd ! Mow, haugnty Gorman, now guide thou my Prince ; Infulted Honour is unfrc t' approach him : And thou once glorious Weapon, fare thee well, Old Servant, worthy of an abler Mailer, Leave The Hero re k Daughter. 2ZJ Leave now for ever his abandon'd Side, And to revenge him, grace fome nobler Arm. My Son ! 'Enter Carlos. O Carlos ! can'fl: thou bear Difhonour ? Car. What Villain dare occafion, Sir, the Queftion I Give me his Name, the Proof fhall anfwer him. All). O juft Reproach ! O prompt refentful Fire ! My Blood rekindles at thy manly Flame, And glads my labouring Heart with Youth's Return. Up, up, my Son — I cannot fpeak my Shame Revenge, Revenue me ! Car. O my Rage ! or what : Ah. Of an Indignity fo vile, my Heart Redoubles all its Torture to repeat it. A Blow ! a Blow, my Boy ! Car. Diftraction I Fury ! Ah. In vain, alas ! this Feeble Arm alTail'd With mortal Vengeance the AggrelTor's Heart : He dally'd with my Age, o'erborn, infulted j Therefore to thy young Arm, for fure Revenge, My Soul's Diftrefs commits my Sword and Caufe : Purfue him, Carlos, to the World's laft Bounds, And from his Heart tear back our bleeding Honour. Nay, to inflame thee more, thou'lt find his Brow Cover'd with Laurels, and far fam'd his Prowefs j Oh ! I have feen him dreadful in the Field, Cut through whole Squadrons his deftructive Way, And match the Gore-dy'd Standard from the Foe. Car. O rack not with his Fame my tortufd Heart, That burns to know him, and eclipfe his Glory. Ah. Tho' I forefee 'twill ftrike thy Soul to hear it, Yet fince our gaiping Honour calls for thy Relief — ^O Carlos ! 'tis JCiwena's Father Car. 224 ^he H ER0ICK Daughter. Car. Ha. Ah. Paufe not for a Reply — I know thy Love, I know the tender Obligations of thy Heart, And ev'n lend a Sigh to thy Diftrefs. I grant Ximena dearer than thy Life ; But wounded Honour mull furmount them both. I need not urge diee more, thou know'ft my Wrong, 'Tis in thy Heart, and in thy Hand the Vengeance : Blood only is the Balm for Grief like mine ; Which till obtain d, J will in Darknefs mourn, . Nor lift my Eyes to Light, till thy Return : But hafie, overtake this Blafier of my Name, Fly fwift to Vengeance, ana bring back my Fame. [Exit, Car. Relentlefs Heaven ! is all thy Thunder gone I Not one Bolt left to finifh my Defpair ? Lie ftill my Heart, and clofe thy deadly Wound ; Stir not to Thought, Reflection is thy Ruin : But fee, the flighted poor Ximena comes, And, with her Tremblings, mikes thee cold as Death, My helplefs Father too, o'erwhelm'd with Shame, Begs his Difmiflion to his Grave with Honour. Ximena weeps, Heart-pierc'd Alvarez, groans : Rage lifts my Sword, and Lowe arrefts my Arm; O double Torture of diffracting Woe ! Is there no Mean betwixt thefe ffiarp Extreams ? Muft Honour perifh, if I fpare my Love ? O ignominious Pity ! fhameful Softnefs ! Muft I, to right Alvarez, kill Ximena r O cruel Vengeance ! O Heart-wounding Honour ! Shall I fbrfake her in her Soul's Extreams, Deprefs the Vertue of her filial Tears, And bury in a Tomb our Nuptial Joy ? Shall that juft Honour that fubdu'd her Heart, Now build its Fame relentlefs on her Sorrows. Inftruct me, Heav'n, that gav'ft me this Diftrefs, To chufe, and bear me worthy of my Being ! O The Heroick Daughter. 22^ O Love ! forgive me, if my hurry'd Soul Shou'd ace. with Error in this Storm of Fortune ! For Heav'n can tell what Pangs I feel to fave thee ! But, hark ! the Shrieks of drowning Honour call ! 'Tis finking, gafping, while I itand in Paufe, Plunge in my Heart, and fave it from the Billows. It will be fo the Blow's too fharp a Pain, And Vengeance has, at leaft, this juft Excufe, That even Ximena blufties, while I bear it j Her generous Heart, that was by Honour won, Muft, when that Honour's ftain'd, abjure my Love. O Peace of Mind, farewell ! Revenge, I come ! And raife thy aAltar on a mournful Tomb. Vol. II. Gg ACT zz6 The Heroick Daughter.-, ^ 'i' "^ ^ ^" 'i 1 ^ V '^ *^ ^ ■*■ *^ 'I* '^ ^' '** ^ ^ ^ ^ '+"*■ V 1 'i' ¥ ^ S>> ^> ^ -*J» "i 1 V 'i 1 ^ ^ ¥ *^ 'i 1 ^ '^ ^ '^ ^i^' ^ 'i 1 '^ ^ *i* ^' '+ 1 4"i' V V ¥ "^ ¥ ACT III. Garcia and Gormaz. Cor. H E King is Matter of his Will and me. But be it as it may what's done's irrevocable. Gar* My Lord, you ill receive this Mark of Favour;. And, while thus obftinate, inflame your Fault. . When Sovereign Power defcends to ask of Subjects The due Submiflion, which its Will may force, Your Danger's greater from fiich flighted Mildnefs, Than fhou'd you diibbey its full Commands. Cor. The Confequence, perhaps, may prove it fo. Car. Have you no Fear of what his Frown may do ? Cor. Has he no Fear of what my Wrongs may do ? - Men of my Rank are not in Hours undone \ When I am crufh'd, I fall with Vengeance round me. Gar. The rafh Indignity you've done tAkvarez,, Without fome Proof of Wrong, bears no Excufe. Cor. I am myfelf the Judge of what I feel j I feel him falfe, and feeling muft refent. Car. Shall it be deem'd a Falfhood to accept A Dignity by Royal Hands conferr'd ? Cor. He Ihou'd have wav'd it ; firft confulted me : He might have held me ftill his Friend fincere, Have fhafd my Fortunes, as a Friend intreating } But bafely thus to out me of my Right, By The Heroick Daughter. 227 By treacherous Acts to do me private Wrong, Is what I never can forgive, and have relented. Gar. But in. this Violence you offend the King, The Sanction of whole Choice claim'd more Regard. Gor. Why am I fretted with thefe Chains of Honour, LqCs free than others in my juft Refentments j W T ho, unprovok'd myfelf do no Man wrong, But, injur'd, am as Storms implacable. Gar. My Lord, this itubborn Temper will undo you. Gor. Then, Sir, Alvarez, will be iatisry'd. Gar. Be yet perfuaded, and compofe this Broil. Gor. My Resolution's fix'd ; let's wave the Subject Gar. Will you refufe all Terms of Reparation ? Gor. All ! all ! that are not from my Honour due ! Gar. Dare you not truft that Honour with your King I Gar. My Life's my King's! my Honour is my own. Gar. What's then in fhort your Anfwer ? For the King Expects it on my firft Return. Gor. 'Tis this, That I dare die, but cannot bow to Shame. Gar. My Lord, I take my Leave. Gor. Don Garcias Servant. [Exit Garcia. Who fears not Death, fmiles at the Frowns of Power. Enter Carlos. Car. My Lord, your Leave to talk with you. Gor. Be free. I did expect you on this late Occafion. Car. I'm glad to find you do my Honour right, And hope you'll not refufe it wrong'd Alvarez,. Gor. He had a Sword to right himfelf. Car. That Sword is here. Gor. 'Tis well ; the Place -and let our Time be Ihort. Car. One Moment's Refpite for Ximends fake, She has not wrong'd me, and my Heart would {pare her ; We both, without a Stain to either's Honour, Go z May 228 The Heroick. Daughter.. May pity her Diftrefs, and paufe to fave her, Nor need I bluffi, that I fufpend my Caufe, Since with its Vengeance her fure Woes are blended t. Not for myfel£ but for her tender fake, I bend me to the Earth, and beg for Mercy. Let not her Vermes differ for her Love ;, O ! lay not on her Innocence the Grier Of a mourn'd Father's, or a Lover's Blood : ! fpare her Sighs, prevent her dreaming Tears g Stop this Effufion of my bleeding Honour, And heal, if poffible, i'ts Wounds widi Peace. Gor. What you have offer'd for Ximends lake, Will, in her Gratitude, be full repaid .; And for the Peace you ask, that's yours to give. Submiflion 'tis in vain to hope, for know 1 have this hour refus'd it to the King. Thy Father's Arts bafely betray'd my Friendflnp * I felt the wrong, and, as I ought, reveng'd it, We're now on equal Terms : but if his Caufe So deep is in thy Heart, that thou refolv'ft, With fruitlefs Vengeance, to provoke my Rage, Then thou, not I, art Author of thy Ruin. Car. Support me now, Ximma, guard my Heart, j^y&fe. And bar this prefiing Provocation's Entrance. J Have I, my Lord, C in Perfon wrong d you I Gor. No. Car. Why then thefe fatal Cruelties to me :.' That I muft lofe, or wrong Ximends Love ?: For fhe muft fcorn me, Ihou'd I bear my Shame y Or fly me, tho' my Honour Ihou'd revenge it. Gor. Place that to thy Misfortune, not to me. Car. Not to you ? Am I not forc'd by Wrongs, I bluih to name, To profecute this fatal Reparation ? Which, had you Temper, or a Feeling here ; Had you the Spirit to confefs your Error 5j a ; Your The Heroick Daughter. 22£ Tour Heart's Confufion had fubdu'd Alvarez^, And thrown you at his injur'd Feet for Pardon. Gor. If thou comeft here to talk me from my Senfe, Or think'ft with Words t' extenuate his Guilt, Thou offer'ft to the Winds thy forcele fs Plea. I. will not bear the mention of his Truth j His Falfliood's here, 'tis rooted in my Heart* And juftifies a worfe Revenge than I have taken. Car. O Patience ! Heav'n ! O tortur'd Rage ! Not {peak ! The pious Pangs of my torn Soul inmlted ! Have I for this bow'd clown my humble Knee, To fwell thy Triumph o'er my Father's Wrongs, And hear him tainted with a Tray tor's Practice f give me back that vile fubmiflive Shame, That I may meet thee with retorted Scorn, And right my Honour with untainted Vengeance : Yet no — -withhold it, take it to acquit my Love ! That Sacrifice was to Ximena due, Her helplefs Sufferings claim'd that Pang : And flnee 1 cannot bring Difhonour to her Arms, Thus my rack'd Heart pours forth its laft Adieus, And makes Libation of its bleeding Peace ; Farewel, dear injur'd Softnefs follow me. Gor. Lead on- yet hold ! (hould we together forth, It may create Sufpicion, and prevent us : Propofe the Place, I'll take fome different Circle. Car. Behind the Ramparts, near the Wefiern Gate. Gor. Expect. me on the Inftant.< Car. Poor Ximena ! {Exit. , Gor. Deep as Refentment lodges in my Heart, It feels fome Pity there for Carlos Pailion— It frail be fo his brave Refentment's juft : \Wrltes in Tablets. And hard his Fate both Ways this Legacy . Shall right my Honour^ and my Enemy. [Exit. Enter 2?0 The Hero i ck Daughter. Enter Belzara and Ximena, Bel. Look up, Ximena, and fupprefs thy Fears, What tho' a transient Cloud o'ercaft thy Joy, Shall we conclude from thence a Wreck muft follow ? Xim. Can I refill; the Fears that Reafon forms ? Have I not caufe to tremble in the Storm ? While Danger, Ruin, and Defpaifs in view ? Can I reflect on good AfoarezJ Shame ? Whofe generous Heart took pity on our Love, And not let fall a grateful Tear to mourn it ? Can I behold fierce Carlos, flung with his Difgrace^ Breaking like Fire from thefe weak-holding Arms, And not fink down with Terror at his Rage : Muft I not tremble, for the Blood may rollow f If by his Arm my haplefs Father falls, Ami not forcd with Rigour to revenge him ? It .Carlos by my Father's Sword friould bleed, Am I not bound with double Grief to mourn him ? One gave me Life, fhall I not revere him ? The other is my Life, can I furvive him I Bel. Her Griefs have fomething ot fuch mournful Force, That tho' not equal to my own, I feel them. Xim. Carlos you fee too fhuns my Sight, no News, No Tidings yet arrive, tho' I have fent My fwifteft Fears a. thoufand ways to find him. Who can fupport thefe Terrors of Sufpenie ? Bel. Be not thus torn with wild uncertain Fears, Carlos may yet arrive, and fave your Teace : He is too much a Lover to refill: The tender Pleadings of Ximends Sorrow ; One Word, one Sigh from you arrefts his Arm, And makes the Tempeft of his Rage fubfide. Xim. And fay that I could conquer him ; with Tears, And Terrors could fubdue his piteous Heart, To yield his Honour and its Caufe to Love, ; What The Heroick Daughter. 23 1 What will the World not fay of his Compliance ? Can I be happy in his Fame's Difgrace ? Can Love fubf ift on Shame, that fprung from Honour ? Shall I reduce him to fuch hard Contempt, And raife on Infamy our Nuptial Joy ? Ah no! no Means are left for my Relief: Let him refift, or yield to my Diftrefs, Or Shame, or Sorrow's fure to meet me. Bel. Ximena has, I fee, a Soul refin'd, Too Great, too Juft, too Noble to be Happy : True Vertue muft defpair from this vile World - To crown its Days with unallay'd Reward. But fee, your Servant is return'd ! Good News, Kind Heaven ! Enter a Page. Xim. Speak quickly, haft thou feen Don Carlos ? Page. Madam, where your Commands directed me, I've made the ftricleft Search in vain to find him. Xim. Now, now Bel&ara, where's that Hope thou gav'ft me I Bel. Nor haft thou gain'd no Knowledge of his Steps ? Has no one feen him pais, or heard of him ? Page. As I return'd, the Centinel, that guards The Gate, inform'd me, that he (aw him fcarce Ten Minutes hence pa fs in diforder'd Hafte From out this very Houfe alone. Bel. Alone ? Page. Alone, and after foon my Lord, wrapt in * His Cloke, without a Servant, follow'd him. Xim. O Heav'n ! Bel. No Servant, faidft thou ? Page. None, and as My Lord came forth, the Soldier ftanding to His Arms, he fign'd Forbiddance, and reply'd, Befure you faw me not. Xm 232. { fhe He.ro ick Daughter. Xim. Then Ruin's fure, They are engag'd, and fatal Blood muft follow : Excufe, my Dear, this .Hurry of my Fate, One Moment loft may prove an Age too late. [E*i*. Bel. Howeer my own Afflictions preis my Heart, I bear a Part in poor Ximenas Grief, Tho' even the word that can befall her Hopes, May better be endur'd than what I feel ! O ! nothing can deft toy her Lover's Truth, Carlos may prove Unhappy, not Inconftant ; Whate'er Dif afters may obftrucl: her Joy, The Comfort of his Truth is fure to find her ; That Thought, ev'n Pains of parting- may remove, Or fill up all the Space of Abfence with Delight. But I, alas ! am lett to my Defpair alone, Confin'd to figh in Solitude my Woes, Or hide with Anquifh what I blufh to bear. In vain the Woman's Pride refents mv Wrongs, Unconquer'd Love maintains his Empire (till, And with new Force infults my Heart's Refiftance. Enter Alonzo haftily. Alan. Your Pardon, Madam Have you feen Lord Gormaz, ? I. come to warn him that he ftir not hence, The Guards are order d to attend his Doors. Bel. Alas they are too late ! Carlos and he Are both gone forth, 'tisfear'd with fatal Purpofe ; And poor Ximena drown'd in Tears has follow'd 'em. Alon. Then 'tis indeed too late : I wifh my Friend, The ralh Don Sanchez, has not blown this Fire. Be not concern'd, Madam, I know your Griefs, And, as a Friend, have labour d to prevent 'em. You have not told Ximena of his Falfliood ? Bel. Alas! I durft not; knowing that her Friendfriip Wou'd for mv fake fo coldly treat his Vows, That 'twou'd but more provoke him to iniult me. Alon. The Heroick Daughter. 233 aAlon. You judge him right, Patience will yet recall him, 'Tis not his Love, but Pride, purfues Ximena, A youthful Heat, that with the Toil will tire : Be comforted, I'll ftill obferve his Steps, And, when I find him (ta^gering, catch him back To Love, and warm him with his Vows of Honour : But Duty calls me to the King Shall I Attend you, Madam ? Bel. Sir, I thank your Care, My near Concern for poor Ximencis Fate, Keeps me impatient here, till her Return. {Exeunt, Enter King, Garcia, Sanchez, Attendants. ICing. Since mild Intreaties fail, our Power fhall force him : Cou'd lie fuppofe his Infiilt to our Perfon ofFer'd, His Outrage done within our Palace- Walls, Defer v'd the Lenity we've deign'd to fhew him : Is yet Alonz^o with our Orders gone ? Gar. He is, my Lord, but not return'd. D. San. Dread Sir ! For what the Count has ofFer'd to Alvarez,, I dare not plead Excufe ; but, as his Friend, Wou'd beg your Royal Leave to mitigate His feeming Diiobedience to your Pleafure. Reftraint, however juft, oppos'd againft. The Tide of Paflion, makes the Current fiercer, Which of itfelf, in time, had ebb'd to Reafon ; Your Will furpriz'd him in his Heart's Emotion, E'er Thought had Leifure to compofe his Mind ; Great Souls are jealous of their Honour's Shame, And bend reluctant to enjoin'd Submifllon : Had your Commands oblig'd him to repair Alvarez] Wrongs, with Hazards in your Service ; Were it to race the double-number'd Foe, To pafs the rapid Stream thro' Showers of Fire, To force the Trenchment, or to ftorm the Breach, Vol. II. Hh I'll 234 The Heroick Daughter. I'll anfwer bed embrace with Joy the Charge, And march intrepid in Commands of Honour. King. We doubt not of his daring in the Field, But he miftakes, if he concludes from thence, That to perfift in Wrong, is Height of Spirit, Or to have acted Wrong, is always bafe : Perfection's not the Attribute of Man, Nor therefore can a Fault confefs'd degrade him •> The loweft Minds have Spirit to offend, But few can reach the Courage to confefs it ; Submitting to our Will, the Count had loft No Fame, nor can we pardon his Refufal : What you have faid, Don Sanchez,, fpeaks the Friend ;. What we refolve, 'tis fit fhould fpeak the King : We both have faid enough The Publick now Requires our Thought : We are inform'd Ten Sail Of warlike VefTels, mann'd with our old Foes The Moors, were late difcover'd off our Coaft, And fleering to the River's Mouth their Courfe. Gar. The Lives, Sir, they have loft in like Attempts Muft make them cautious to repeat the Danger \ This is no Time to fear them. King. Nor contemn, Too full Security has oft been fatal. Confider with what Eafe the Flood at Night May bring them down t'infult our Capital. Let at the Port, and on the Walls, our Guards Be doubled, till the Morn, that Force may ferve ; GormaZj has timed it ill to be in fault, When his immediate Prefence is requir'd. Gar. My Liege, AlonZjO is return'd. Enter Alonzo. King. 'Tis well ! Have you obey'd us ? Is the Count confin'd ? Alon. The Heroick Daughter. 22C Alon. Your Orders, Sir, arriv'd unhappily Too late ; die Count, with Carlos, was before Gone forth, to end their fatal Difference : As I came back, I met the gathering Croud In Fright, and hurrying to the We/fern Gate, To fee, as they reported, in the Field The Body of ibme murder ci Nobleman. Struck with my Fears, I halted to the Place, Where to my Senfes Horror, when arriv'd, I found them true, and Gorman juft expir'd : While fair Ximena, to adorn the Woe, Bath'd his pale breathlefs Body with her Tears, Calling with Cries for Juftice on his Head, Whofe rueful Hand had done the barbarous Deed : The pitying Crowd took part in her Diftrefs, And join'd her moving Plaints for due P^evenge ; While fome, in kinder Feeling of her Griefs, Remov'd the mournful Object from her Eyes, And to the neighbouring Convent bore the Body, Which, when committed to the Abbot's Care, I left the preffing Throng to tell the News. King. Ximends Griefs are foliow'd with our own ; For tho', in fome Degree, the haughty Count Drew on himfelf the Son's too juft Revenge, We cannot lofe, without a deep Concern, So true a Subject, and fo brave a Soldier : However Pity may for Carlos plead, Death ends his Failings, and demands our Grief. Alon. Sir, here in the Tablets of th' unhappy Count, In his own Hand, thefe written Lines were found. King. ' Alvarez wrong'd me in my Mailer's Favour,? 4 Carlos is brave, and has deferv'd Ximena. S Reading. Strange, generous Spirit, now we pity thee. Avon. Behold, Sir, where the loft Ximena comes, O'erwhelm'd with Sorrow, to demand your Juftice. Hh z Enter 236 The Heroick Daughter. Enter Ximena. Xim. O Sacred Sir ! forgive my Grief's Intrusion, Behold a helplefs Orphan at your Feet, Who, for a Father's Blood, implores your Juftice. Enter Alvarez, haflily. Ah. O! turn, dread Royal Mafter, turn your Eyes, See on the Earth your faithful Soldier proftrate, Whole Honour's juft Revenge intreats your Mercy. Xim. O Godlike Monarch ! hear my louder Cries ! Ah. O be not to the Old and Helpiefs deaf ! Xim. Revenge yourfelf, your violated Laws. Ah. Support not Violence in rude Aggreflbrs. Xim. Be greatly Good, and do the Injur a Juftice. Ah. Be greater ftill, and fliew the Valiant Mercy. Xim. O, Sir ! your Crown's Support and Guard is 'gone y The impious Carlos Sword has kilfd my Father. Ah. And, like a pious Son, aveng'd his own. King. Rife, fair Ximena ! and Aharez, rife ! With equal Sorrow we receive your Plaints, Both fhall be heard apart — proceed Ximena : Aharez>, in your Place you (peak, be patient, Xim. What can I fay ? but Miieries, like mine, May plead with plaineft Truths their piteous Caufe. Is he not dead ? Is not my Father kill'd ? Have not theie Eyes beheld his ghaftly Wound, And mixt, with fruitlefs Tears, his {beaming Blood I That Blood which, in his Royal Maftefs Caufe, So oft has Ipruhg him thro' your Foes victorious ; That Blood, which all the raging Swords of War Cou'd never reach, a young prefumptuous Arm Has dar'd, wirhin your View to facrifke! Thefe Eyes beheld it ftream Excufe my Grief, My Tears will better than my Words explain me. King. Take heart, Ximena, we're inclin'd to hear thee. Xim. The Heroick Daughter. 2J7 Xim. O ! ffiall a Life, fo faithful to the King, Fall unreveng'd, and ftain his Glory ? Shall Merit, (b important to the State, Be left expos'd to facrilegious Rage, .And fall the Sacrifice of private Paffion ? Alvarez, (ays, his Honour was infulted j Yet, be it fo, was there no King to right it ? Who better cou'd protect it than the Donor ? Shall Carlos wreft the Scepter from your Hand, And point the Sword of Juftice whom to punifh ? O ! if fuch Outrage may efcape with Pardon, Whofe Life's fecure from his (elf-judging Rage ? where s Protection ! if Ximena s Tears And tender Paffion could not fave her Father ? King. Alvarez*, aniwer her. Ah). My Heart's too full j Divided, torn, diffracted with its Griefs : How can I plead poor Carlos Caufe, when I Am touch'd with Pity of Ximends Woe ? Her fuffering Piety has caught my Soul, And only leaves me Sorrow to defend me j Ximena has a Grief I cannot difallow, Nor dare I hope for Pardon, but your Pity ; Carlos even yet may merit fome Compailion, Perhaps I'm partial to his Piety, And fee his Deeds with a fond Father's Eye, But that I ftill muft leave to Royal Mercy ! O, Sir, imagine what the Brave endure, When the chafte Front of Honour is infulted, Her Fame abus'd, and ravifh'd by a Blow. Oil piercing ! piercing ! muft the Torture be, If foft Ximena wantedPower t'appeafe it. Pardon this Weaknefs of o'erflowin^ Nature, 1 cannot fee fuch filial Vertue periih, And not let fall a Tear to mourn its Hardfhip. Xim. O my divided Heart ! O poor Alvarez, [AJide. .King. 2?8 *The Heroick Daughter. Kin*. Compoie thy Griefs, my good old Friend, we feel them. oAlv. If GormazJ Blood mull be with Blood reveng'd, do not, Sacred Sir ! mifplace your Juftice ; Mine was the Guilt, and be on me the Vengeance : Carlos but acled what my Sufferings prompted, The ratal Sword was not his own, but mine ; 1 gave it with my Wrongs into his Hand, Which had been innocent, had mine been able. On me your Vengeance will be juft and mild J My Days, alas ! are drawing to their End, But Carlos lpar'd, may yet live long to ferve you. Preferve my Son, and I embrace my Fate, Since he has fav d my Honour from the Grave, O lay me gently there to reft for ever. Ktng. Your mutual Plaints require our tend reft Thought, Our Counfel fhall be fiimmond to ailift us Look up, my Fair, and calm thy Sorrows, Thy King is now thy Father, and will right thee : oAlvarez,, on his word, has liberty ; Be Carlos found to anfwer to his Charge. Sanchez,, wait you Ximena to her Reft, Whom on the Morrow's Noon we full will anfwer. Hard is the Task of Juftice, where Diftrejs Excites our Mercy, yet demands Redrejs. [Exeunt. ®s m® ACT The Heroic k Daughter. 239 ACT IV. Belzara alone, in XimenaV Apartment. URE fome ill-boding Planet muft prefide, Malignant to the Peace of tender Lovers ! Undone Ximena ! O relentlefs Honour ! That firft fubdu'd thy generous Heart, then rais'd Thy Lover's fatal Arm, to pierce it thro' Thy Father's Life, and make thy Vertue wretched : The haplefs Carlos too is loft for ever ! Condemn'd to fly an Exile from her Sight, In whom he only lives ! Oh Heav'n ! he's here, His Miferies have made him defperate. Enter Carlos. Carlos, what wild Diffraction has poffefs'd thee, That thus thou feek'ft thy Safety in thy Ruin ? Is this a Place to hide thy wretched Head, Where Juftice, and Ximena s fure to find thee ? Car. I wou'd not hide me from Ximenas Sight, Banifh'd from her, I every moment die : Since I muft periih, let her Frowns deftroy me, Her Anger's fharper than the Sword of Juftice. Bel Alas ! I pity thee, but would not have Thee tempt the firft Emotions of her Heart, While Duty and Refentment yet tranfport her : 240 The Heroick Daughter. I wait each moment her Return from Court, Which now, be fure, will be with Friends attended. O fly ! for Pity's fake, regard her Fame, Shou'd you be feen, what muft the World conclude ? Wou'd you increafe her Miferies, to have Malicious Tongues report her Love conceal'd Beneath the Roof, Tier Father's Murderer. But fee, fhe comes ! O hide thee but a Moment ! Kill not her Honour too, let that perfuade thee. \_Exit Carlos. Don Sanchez, here ! Oh Heav'ns ! how I tremble. [Retires. Enter Sanchez and Ximena. D. San. This noble Conqueft, Madam, of your Love, To After-Ages muft record your Fame ; Jul! is your Grief, and your Refentment great, And great the Victim that fhou'd fall before it ; But Words are empty Succours to Diftrefs : Therefore command my Actions to relieve you. Wou'd you have fure Revenge, employ this Sword, Mv Fortune and my Life is yours to right vou ; Accept my Service, and you overpay it. Bel. O faithlefs, barbarous Man ! but I'll divert 1 /tn-trt Thy cruel Aim, and ufe my Power for Carlos. 5 " L Xim. O miferable me ! Bel. Take Comfort, Madam. D. San. Bel&ara here ! then I have loft th'Occafion „, Yet I may urge enough to give her Pain : $ J 1 e ' Commanding me, you make your Vengeance fure. Xim. That were t'orTend the King, to whom I have Appeai'd, and whence I now muft only wait it. D. San. Revenge from Juftice, Madam, moves (o (low. That oft the watchful Criminal efcapes it : Appeal to your Refentment, you fecure it. Carlos, you found, would truft no other Power, And 'tis but juft you quit him, as he wrong'd you.' Bel. The Her oi ck Daughrter- 24I Bel. Alas ! Don Sanchez:,, Madam, feels not Love, e little thinks how Carlos fills your Heart ; What {hining Glory in his Crime appears j What Pangs it coll: him to take part with Honour: That you muft hate the Hand that could deftroy him. Sanchez^, to fhew the real Friend, would ufe His fecret Int'reft with the King to (pare him ; For tho' you're bound in Duty to purfue him, Yet Love, alas ! wou'd, with a confcious Joy, Applaud the Power that could, unbid, preferve him. Xim. O kind Belzjara ! how thou feel'ft my Sufferings, Yet I muft think, Don Sanchez^ means me well. D. San. Confufion ! how her fubtle Tongue has foil'd me [Afidc, Madam, fome other time I'll beg your Leave To wait your Service, and approve my Friendfliip. Xim. Oh ! every Friend, but Carlos, is at hand To help me ! Grief, Sir, is unfit to thank you. D. San. Oh ! if fuch Beauties 'midft her Sorrows fhine, What darting Charms muft point her fmiling Eyes ? [Exit* Xim. At length I'm free, at liberty to think, And give my Miferies a Loofe of Sorrow. OBelzjara ! Carlos has kill'd my Father ! Weep ! weep my Eyes ! pour down vour baleful Show'rs, He that in Grief fhou'd be my Hearts Support, Has wrought my Sorrows, and muft fall their Victim. When Carlos is deftroy' d, what Comfort's left me ? Spite of my Wrongs he ftill inhabits here : O ftill his fatal Vermes plead his Caufe ; His filial Honour charms my Woman's Heart, And there ev'n yet he combats with my Father. Bel. Reftrain thefe headftrong Sallies of your Heart, And try with Slumbers to compofe your Spirits. Xim. O ! where's Repofe for Miiery like mine ? How grievous Heav'n ! how bitter is my Portion ? O fhall a Parent's Blood cry unreveng'd ! Vol. II. Ii ] Shall 1^.1 The Heroick Daughter. Shall impious Love fubornmy Heart to pay His Allies but unprofitable Tears, And bury in my Shame the great Regards of Duty ? Bel. Alas ! that Duty is difcharg'd ; you have Appeal'd to Juftice, and fhou'd wait its Courfe. Nor are you bound with Rigour to enforce it ; His hard Misfortunes may deferve Companion. Xim. O! that they do deferve it, is my Grief; Cou'd I withdraw my Pity from his Caufe, Were Falfliood, Pride, or Infolence his Crime, My j uft Revenge, without a Pang, fhou'd reach him,. But as he is fupported with Excufe, Defended by the Cries of bleeding Honour, Whofe cruel Laws none but the Great obey ; My hopelefs Heart is tortur'd with Extreams, It mourns in Vengeance, and at Mercy fhudders.. Bel. O what will be at laft the dire Refolve Of your afflicted Soul ? Xim. There is but one Can end my Sorrows, and preferve my Fame j The fole Resource my Mijeries can have, Is to purfue, defiroy ; then meet him in the Grave. [ Going. Carlos meets her. Amazement ! Horror ! have my Eyes their Senfe I Or do my raving Griefs create this Phantom ? Support me ! help me ! hide me from the Vifion I For 'tis not Carlos come to brave my Sorrows. [Carlos kneels. Bel O turn your Eye ! in pity of his Griefs, Refign'd, and proftrate at your Feet for Mercy. Xim. What will my Woes do with me I Bel. Now! Now conquering Love fhoot all thy Fires to favehim; Now fnarch the Palm from cruel Honour's Brow ; Maintain thy Empire, and relieve the Wretched : O hangupon his Tongue thy thrilling Charms, To The Heroick Daughter. 24? To hold her Heart, and kill the Hopes of Sanchez [Exit. Car. O pierce not thus, with thy offended Eyes, The wretched Heart that, of itfelf is breaking. Xirn. Can I be wounded, and not fhrink with Pain? Can I fupport with Temper him that ihed My Father's Blood triumphant in my Ruin ? O Carlos ! Carlos ! was thy Heart of Stone ? Was nothing due to poor Ximems Peace f ! 'twas not thus I telt new Pains for thee, When at my Feet thy Sighs of Love were pity'd, And all hereditary Hate forgotten ! Tho' bound, in filial Honour, to infult Thy Flame, I broke thro' all to crown thy Vows, And bore the Cenfure of my Race to fave thee : And am I thus requited ? left forlorn ? The tender Paflion of my Heart defpis'd ! Cou'd not my Terrors move one Spark of Mercv I No mild Abatement of thy Item Revenge ? T' excufe thy Crime, or juftify my Love ? Car. O hear me but a moment. Xirn. O my Heart ! Car. One mournful word ! Xirn. Ah ! leave me to defpair ! Car. One dying laft Adieu, then wreak thy Vengeance : Behold the Sword that has undone thee. Xirn. Ah ! ftain'd with my Father's Blood ! O rueful Object ! Car. O Ximena ! Xirn. Take hence that horrid Steel, That, while I bear thy Sight, arraigns my Venue. Car. Endure it rather to fupport Refentment, T'inflame thy Vengeance, and to pierce thy Victim : 1 am more wretched than thy Ras;e can wifh me. Xim. O cruel Carlos ! in one Day thou haft kili'd The Father with thy Sword, the Daughter with Thy Sight O yet remove that fatal Object, I cannot bear the Glare of its Reproach : Iil If 244 T/^Heroick Daughter.' If thou would'ft have me hear thee, hide the Caufe, That wounds Reflection to our mutual Ruin. Car. Thus I obey — but how fhall I proceed ? What Words can help me to deferve thy Hearing i How can I plead my wounded Honour's Caufe, Where injur'd Love and Duty are my Judges ? Or how fhall I repent me of a Crime, Which, uncommitted, had deferv'd thy Scorn ? Yet think not ; O I conjure thee ! think not, But that I bore a thoufand Racks of Love, While my conflicting Honour prefs'd for Vengeance. Or I endur'd ! fubmitted ev'n to Shame, Begg'd, as for Life, for peaceful Reparation ! But all in vain ! like Water fprinkled on A Fire, mofe Drops but made him burn the more, And only added to thy Father's Fiercenefs. Reduc'd, at laft, to thefe Extreams of Torture, That I muft be, or infamous, or wretched, I fav'd my Honour, and refign'd to Ruin.. Nor think, Ximena, Honour had prevail'd, But that thy nobler Soul oppos'd thy Charms, And told my Heart, none but the Brave deferv'd thee, Now having thus difcharg'd my Honour's Debt, And waft'd my injur'd Father's Stains away, What yet remains of Life, is due to Love. Behold the Wretch, whofe Honour's fatal Fame, Is founded on the Ruin of thy Peace ; Receive the Victim, which thy Griefs demand, Prepar'd to bleed, and bending to the Blow. Xim. O Carlos ! I muft take thee at thy Word, But muft, with equal Juftice too, difcharge My Ties of Love, as fatal Bonds of Duty. O think not, tho'enforc'd to thefe Extreams, My Heart is yet infenfible to thee ! O !. I muft thank thee for thy painful Paufe.; The The Heroic k Daughter. 249 The generous Shame thytortur'd Honour bore, When at my Father's Feet my SurT 'rings threw thee. Can I prefent thee in that dear Confulion, And not with grateful Sighs of Pity mourn thee ? I can lament thee, but I dare not pardon j Thy Duty done, reminds me of my own ; My filial Piety, like thine, diftrefs'd, Compels me to be miferably juft, And asks my Love a Victim to my Fame : Yet think not Duty cou'd o'er Love prevail, But that thy nobler Soul allures my Heart, Thou would'ft defpife the Paflion that cou'd fave thee. Car. Since I muft die, let that kind Hand deftroy me, Let not the Wretch, once honour'd with thy Love, Thy Carlos, once thought worthy of thy Arms, Be dragg'd a publick Spectacle to Juftice ; To draw the irkfome Pity of a Crowd, Who may, with vulgar Reafon, call thee cruel. My Death, from thee, will elevate thy Vengeance, And fhew, like mine, thy Duty fcorn'd Afliftance. Xim. Shall 1 then take Aillftance ? and from thee I Accept that Vengeance from thy Heart's Defpair ? No! Carlos I no ! I will not judge, like thee, my private Wrongs, But to the Courfe of Juftice truft my Duty, Which fhall, in every Part, untainted flow j Unmix'd with gain'd Advantage o'er thy Love, And from its own pure Fountain raife my Glory. Car. O can my Death, with Shame, advance that Glory I Can I do more than perifh to appeaie thee ? Can my Misfortunes too have reach'd thy Hate ? Xim. Can Hate have paft in Interviews like this ? Nay, can I give thee greater Proof of Love, Than that I truft my Vengeance with thy Honour ? Art not thou now within my Power to feize ?; Yet 246 The He.roick Daughter. Yet I'll releafe thee, Carlos, on thy Word, Give me thy Word, that on the Morrow's Noon, Before the King in Perfon thou wilt anfwer, And take the Shelter of the Night to leave me. Car. O ! thou haft found the way to fix my Ruin! It muft be fo, thou fhalt have ample Vengeance, Purfu'd by thee, my Life's not worth the faving ; Be then that fatal Honour, my Engagement, That at the Hour propos'd, I'll meet my Fate But muft we part, Jtimem like fworn Foes ? Has Love no Senfe of all its perifti'd Hopes ? Difmiis my Miferies, at leaft, with Pity : May I not breathe upon this injur'd Bofom One parting Sigh to eafe my wounded Soul, And looie the Anguifh of a broken Heart ? Xtm. Support me Heaven — we meet again to-morrow. Car. To-morrow, we muft meet like Enemies, Thy piercing Eyes, relentlefs in Revenge, And all the'Sortnefs of thy Heart forgotten ; This only moment is our Life of Love. O take not from this little Interval, The poor expiring Comfort that is left me. [Xim. weeps. My Heart's confounded with thy foft Companion, And doats upon the Venue that deftroys me. Xim. O ! I fhall have the Start of thee in Woe ; Thou canft but fall for her thou lov'ft ; but what Muft (he endure that loves thee — and deftroys thee ? Yet, Carlos, take this Comfort in thy Fate, That if the Hand of Juftice fhou'd o'ertake diee, Thy mournful Urn fhall hold Jit mends Allies. Car. O Miracle of Love ! Xim. O mortal Sorrow ! But hafte, O leave me while my Heart's refolv'd. Fly, fly me, Carlos, left thou taint my Fame ; Left, in this ebbing Rigour of my Soul, I tell The Heroick Daughter. 247 I tell thee, tho' I profecute thy Fate, My fecret Willi is, that my Caufe may fail me. Car. O Spirit of Companion ! O Ximena ! What Pangs and Ruin have our Parents coll us ? Farewell thou Treajure of my Soul, O flay ! 'Take not at once my fhort-livd Joys away; While thus I fix me on thy mournful Eyes } Let my Diftrejfes to Extremes arife, e Thy Viclims now fecure ; for thus to part t I fate thy Vengeance with a broken Heart. [Exeunt. Enter Alvarez, zvith Noblemen, Officers, and others. \ft Nob. Thefe few, my Lord, are on my Part engag'd, In half an Hour Don Henrique de las Torres, With Sixty more, will wait upon your Caufe, Refolv'd, and ready, all like us, to right you : Since the jufl Quarrel of your Houfe muft live, Since the brave Blood of Carlos is purfu'd, The Race of Gorman fhall attend his Allies. Ah. My Lord, this Mark of your exalted Honour Will bind me ever grateful to your Friendfhip ; Tho' I ftill hope the Mercy of the King Will fpare the Criminal, whofe Guilt is Honour. The Service I have done the State has found A bounteous Mailer always to reward it. Nor am I yet lb wedded to my Reft, But that I ilill can, on Occafion, break it, The cZMoors are anchor'd now within the River, And, as I'm told,, near landing to infult us — ■ Wlierefore I would entreat you, at this time, To wave my private Danger for the Publick, Since Chance has form'd us to 10 brave a Body, Let us not part inactive in our Honour ; Lefs 248 The Heroick Daughter. Let's feize this glad Occafion of th'Alarm, Let's chace thefe Robbers in our King's Defence, And bravely merit, not demand his Mercy. ifl Nob. Alvarez, may command us, who is frill Himfelf, and owns no Caufe unmix'd with Honour. Alv. How now ! the News. [Enter a Servant, who Juft enter'd, and alone ! ivhifpers Alvarez. O Heaven ! my Prayers are heard ! my noble Friends, Something to our prefent purpofe has occurr'd j Let me intreat you, forward to the Garden, Where you will find a treble Number of Our Forces ailembi'd on the like Occafion ; Myfelf will in a Moment bring you News, That will confirm, and animate our Hopes. [Exeunt Nok Enter Carlos. My Carlos ! O do I live once more t'embrace thee, Prop of my Age, and Guardian of my Fame ! Nor think, my Champion, that my Joys thus wild, For that thou only hail reveng'd my Honour, (Tho that's a Thought might blefs me in the Grave) No, no, my Son, for thee am I tranfported ; Alas ! I am too fenfible what Pains Thy Heart muft feel from Anguifh of thy Love ; And had I not new Hopes that will fupport thee, Some prefent Profpect of thy Pain's Relief My Senfe of thy Afflictions would deftroy me. Car. What means this kind Companion of my Griefs ? Is there, on Earth, a Cure for Woes like mine i O, Sir, you are fo tenderly a Father, So good, I can't repent me of my Duty : Be not however jealous of my Fame, If yet I mix your Tranfports with a Sigh, Fo r The Heroics Daughter. 249 For ruin'd Love, and for the loft Ximena : For fince I drag, with my Defpair, my Chain, Her fated Vengeance only can relieve me. Alv. No more deprefs thy Spirit with Defpair, While Glory and thy Country's Caufe ihould wake it; The Moors not yet expected, are arriv'd, The Tide, and filent Darknefs of the Night Lands, in an Hour, their Forces at our Gates : The Court's difmay'd, the People in Alarm, And loud Confufion fills the frighted Town. But Fortune, e'er this publick Danger reach'd us, Had rais'd Five Hundred Friends, the Foes of Gorman Whofe Swords refolve to vindicate thy Vengeance, And here without expect thee at their Head. Forward, my Son, their Numbers foon may (well, Suflain the Brunt and Fury of the Foe j And if thy Life's fo painful to be born, Lay it at leaft with Honour in the Duft, Call it not fruitlefs from thee ; let thy King Firft know its Value, e'er his Laws demand it : But Time's too precious to be talk'd away. oAdvance my Son, and let thy Mafter fee, What he has loft in Gormaz, is redeem d in thee. Car. Relenting Heav'n at laft has found the Means To end my Miferies with guiltlefs Honour. Why fhould I live a Burden to my felf, A Trouble to my Friends, a Terror to Ximena ? Not all the Force of Mercy or of Merit, Can walh a Father's Blood from her Remembrance, Or reconcile the Horror to her Love. Yet I'll not think her Duty fo fevere, But that to fee me fall my Country's Victim Wou'd pleafe her Pallion, tho' it fhock'd her Vengeance : It muft be {o Dying with Honour, I Difcharge the Son, the Subject, and the Lover. Vol. II. Kk O! 2^0 The Heroick Daughter. O ! when this mangled Body fhall be found A bare and undiftinguifh'd Carcafs Ynidft the Slain, Will fhe not weep in pity of my Wounds, And ownher Wrongs have ample Expiation ? Her Duty then may, with a fecret Tear, Confejs her Vengeance great, and glorious my Defpair. ACT The Heroick Daughter. *?i ACT V. Belzara alone, ICTORIOUS Carlos, now refume thy Hopes, Demand thy Life, and filence thy Ximena: Hard were thy Fate indeed, if fhe alone Should be the Bar to Triumphs nobly purchased : But lee, fhe comes, with mournful Pomp of Woe, To profecute this Darling of the People, And damp, with ill-tima Griefs, the pnblick Joy. Enter Ximena in Mourning, attended. Ximena ! Oh ! I more than ever now Deplore the hard Afflictions that purfue thee j While thy whole native Country is in Joy, Art thou the only Object of Defpair ? Is this a time to profecute thy Caufe, When publick Gratitude is bound t oppofe thee ? When on the Head of Carlos, which thy Griefs Demand, Fortune has pour'd Protection down ? The Moors repuls'd, his Country fav'd from Rapine, His menac'd King confirm'd upon his Throne, From every Heart but thine, will find a Voice To lift his echo'd Praifes to the Heavens. K k 2, Xim 2^2, The Heroick Daughter. Xim. 1st poflible ? Are all thefe Wonders true ? Am I the only Mark o'c his Mifdoing ? Cou'd then his fatal Sword tranfpierce my Father, Yet fave a Nation to defeat my Vengeance ? Still as I pafs, the publick Voice extols His glorious Deeds, regardlefs of my Wrongs ; The Eye of Pity, that but Yefternight Let fall a Tear in feeling of my Caufe, Now turns away, retracting its Companion, And fpeaks the general Grudge at my complaining. But there's a King, whofe facred Word's his Law ; Supported by that Hope, I (fill muft on, Nor till by him rejected, can be filent. Bel. Your Duty fhould recede, when publick Good Muft furfer in the Life your Caufe purfues. Xim. But can it be ? Was it to Carlos Sword The Nation thus tranfported, owes its Safety I O let me tafte the Pieafure and the Pain ! Tell me, Beldam, tell me all his Glory ', O let me forfeit on the guilty Joy ! Delight my Paflion, and torment my Vertue. Bel. AlonZjO, who was prefent, will inform us. Enter Alonzo.. Alon&o, if your Bufinefs will permit. Alon. The Abbot, at whole Houfe Count Gormaz* lies, Has font in hafte to fpeak with me ; I guefs, To fix the Order of his Funeral. Bel. Spare us at leaft a Moment from th' Occafion, Ximena has not yet been fully told The Action of our late Deliverance; The Fame of Carlos may compofe her Sorrows. Alon. Permit the Action then to praife itfelr ; Late in the Night at Lord AharezJ Houfe, Five hundred Friends were gather'd in his Caufe, To oppofe the Vengeance that purfu'd his Son ; But The Heroick Daughter. 2C? But in the common Danger, brave Alvarez, With valiant Carlos at their Head, preferr'd The publick Safety to their private Honour, And march'd with Swords determin'd 'gainft the Moors. This brave Example, e'er they reach'd the Harbour, Increas'd their Numbers to Three Thoufand ftrono-. Bel. Where the Moors landed e'er you reach'd the Port ? Alon. Not till fome Hours after; when we arriv'd, Our' Troops were form'd, Xtmena was the Word, And Carlos foremoft to confront the Foe : The Moors not yet in view, he order'd firft Two Thirds of our divided Force to lie Conceal'd i'th'Hatches of our Ships in Harbour ; The reft, whofe Numbers every Moment fweU'd, Halted with Carlos on the Shore, impatient, And filent on their Arms repoiing, pafs'd The ftill Remainder of the wafting Night : At length the Brightnefs of the Moon prefents Near twenty Sail approaching with the Tide ; Our Order ftill obierv'd, we let them pais ; Nor at the Port, or Walls, a Man was feen. This Deadnefs or our Silence wings their Hopes * To feize th' Occafion, and fiirprize us fleeping; And now they difembaik, and meet their Fate : For at the Inftant thev were half on Shore, Up role the Numbers in our Ships conceal'd, And to the vaulted Heaven thunder'd their Huzzas, Which Carlos echo'd from his Force on Shore : At this, amaz'd Confufion feiz'd their Troops, And e'er their Chiefs could form them to refift, We prefs'd them on the Water, drove them on The Land ; then fir'd their Ships to ftop their Flight: Howe'er at length their Leaders bravely rallying, Recovered them to order, and a while Suftain'd their Courage, and oppos'd our Fury : But, when their burning Ships began to flame, The 2^4 The Heroick Daughter. The dreadful Blaze, preferring to their View, (Their flaughter'd Heaps that fell where Carlos fought, For O ! he fought, as if to die were Victory) Their fruitlefs Courage then refign'd their Hopes ; And now their wounded King, defpairing, call'd Aloud, and hail'd our General to fuirender, Whom Carlos anfwering, receiv'd his Prifoner : At this the reft had, on Submiffion, Quarter ; Our Trumpets found, and Shouts proclaim our Victory : While Carlos bore his Captive to his Father, Whole Heart, tranfported at the Royal Prize, Dropt Tears of Joy, and to the King convey'd him, Where now he's pleading for his Son's Diftreis, And asks but Mercy for his glorious Triumph. [Exit. Xim. Too much ! it is too much, relentlefs Heav'n ! Th' Oppreflion's greater than my Soul can bear ! O wounding Vertue I O my torcur d Heart ! Art only thou forbidden to applaud him ? Cannot a Nation fav'd appeaie thy Vengeance ? Why ! why, juft Heav'n ! are his Deeds Co glorious, And only fatal to the Heart that loves him ? Bel. Compofe, Ximena, thy Diibrder, fee The King approaches, mailing on Alvarez*, Whole Heart o'erflowing, guihes at his Eyes, And fpeaks his Plea tooftrong for thy Complaint. Xtrn. Then fleep, my Love, and Vertue arm t'oppofe him, Let me look backward on his fatal Honour, Survey this mournful Pomp of his Renown, Thefe woeful Trophies of his conquer'd Love, That thro' my Father's Life purfu'd his Fame, And made me in his Nuptial Hopes an Orphan : O broken Spirit ! would'!! thou (pare him now, Think on thy Father's Blood ! exert the Daughter, Supprefs thy Paflion, and demand thy Victim. Enter The Heroick Daughter. Enter King, Alvarez, Sanchez, &c. ?-K King. Difmifs thy Fears, my Friend, and man thy Heart, For while his Actions are above Reward, Mercy's of courfe included in the Debt ; Our ableft Bounty's Bankrupt to his Merit, Our Subjects reicu'd from fo fierce a Foe, The Moors defeated, e'er the rude Alarm Allow'd us Time to order our Defence, Our Crown protected, and our Sceprer fix'd, Are Actions that lecure Acknowledgment. oAh. My Tears, Sir, better than my Words will thank yoa Enter Garcia. Gar. Don Carlos, Sir, without attends your Pleafure, And comes furrender'd, as his Word en^ag'd, To anlwer the Appeal or fair Ximena. King. Attend him to our Prefence. Xim. O my Heart ! King. Ximena, with Companion we fhall hear thee, But muff not have thy Griefs arraign our Juftice, If in his Judge thou find'ft an Advocate : Not lefs his Virtues, than thy Wrongs will plead. Xim. O fainting Caufe ! but thus my Griefs demand him. [Kneeling. [While the King raifes Ximena, enter Alonzo, and zvhifpers Alvarez. 'Ah). This Inftant, fay'ft thou ? Can I leave my Son I Alon. The Matter's more important than your Stay \ Make hafte, my Lord. Ah. What can thy Tranfport mean ? Be plain. Alon. We have no time to loie in words ; Away, I fay. Ah. 2^6 The Heroick Daughter. Alv. Lead o\\ and eafe my Wonder. [Exeunt. Enter Carlos, and kneels to the King. King. O rife, my Wacior, raife thee to my Bread:, And in thy Matter's Heart repeat thy Triumphs. Car. Thefe Honours, Sir, to any Senfe but mine, Might lift its Traniports to Ambition's Height ; But while Ximends Sorrows preis my Heart, Forgive me, it defpairing or Repole, I tafte no Comfort in the Life fhe leeks, And urge the IlTue of her Grief's Appeal. King. Ximena, 'tis mod: true, has loft a Father, But thou haft fav'd her Country from its Fate, And the fame Vertue, that demands thy Life, Owes more than Pardon to the Publick Weal. Xim. My Royal Lord ! vouchfafe my Giiefs a Hearing; O think not, Sir, becaufe my Spirits faint, That the firm Confcience of my Duty ftaggers. The Criminal, I charge, has kill'd my Father : And tho' his Valour has prefervd the State, Yet every Subject is not wrong'd like me, Therefore, witli Eafe, may pardon what they feel not. As he has fav'd a Nation from its Foes, The Thanks that Nation owes him, are but juft, And I muft join the general Voice t'applaud him : Bur all the Tribute, that my Heart can fparehim, Is Tears of Pity ; while my Wrongs puriiie him, What more than Pity can thofe Wrongs afford ? What lefs than Juftice can my Duty ask ? If publick Obligations muft be paid him, Let every fingle Heart give equal Share : (Carlos has prov'd, that mine is not ungrateful) But muft my Duty yield fiich Difproportion r Muft on my Heart a Father's Blood be levy'd, And my whole Ruin pay the publick Thanks ? If The Heroick Daughter. 2C7 If Blood for Blood might be before demanded, Is it lefs due, becaufe his Fame's grown greater ? . Shall Vertue, that fhou'd guard, infult your Laws, And tolerate our Paflions to infringe em ? If to defend the Publick, may excufe A private Wrong, how is the Publick fafe ? How is the Nation from a Foe prefer v'd, If every Subject's Life is at his mercy ? My Duty, Sir, has fpoken, and kneels for Judgment. Car. O noble Spirit, how thou charm'ft my Senfe, \ * And giv'ft my Heart a Pleafure in my Ruin ! ^ P r ' King. Raife thee, Ximena, and compofe thy Thoughts, As thou to Carlos Deeds haft fpoke impartial, So to thy Vertue, that purfues him, we Muft give an equal Plaudit of our Wonder : But we have now our Duty to difcharge, Which far from blaming, fhall exalt thy own. If thy chafte Fame, which we confefs fublime, Compels thy Duty to fupprefs thy Love, To raife yet higher then thy matchlefs Glory, Prefer thy Native Country to them both, And to the Publick Tears refign thy Victim: Where a whole People owe their Prefervation, Shall private Juftice do a publick Wrong, And feed thy Vengeance with the general Sorrow ? Xlm. Is then my Caufe the Publick's Victim ? King. No. We've yet a Hope to conquer thy Refentment, And rather would compofe than filence it : For if our Arguments feem yet too weak To guard thy Vertue from the leaft Reproach, Behold the generous Sanction that protects it, Read there the Pardon which thy Father gives him, And with his dying Hand afTigns thy Beauties. Xim. My Father's Pardon ! King. Read, and raife thy Wonder. Vo l. II. L 1 Jim. 2^8 The Heroick Daughter. Xim. (Reads) ' .Alvarez wrong'd me in my Matters Favour, 1 Carlos is Brave, and has deferv'd Ximena! Car. O Soul of Honour ! now lamented Victory ! King. Now, fair Ximena, now reiiime thy Peace, Reduce thy Vengeance to thy Father's Will, And join the Hand his Honour has forgiven. Xim. All-gracious Heaven ! have my fwoln Eyes their Senfe ?! D. San. O tottering Hope ! but I have yet a Thought, That will compel her Venue to purfue him. Xim. Why did you fhew me, Sir, this wounding Goodnefs ?. This Legacy, tho' fit for him to leave, Wou'd in his Daughter be Reproach to take : Honour unqueftion'd may forgive a Foe, But who'll not doubt it when it fpares a Lover I: If you propos'd to mitigate my Griefs, You fhou'd have hid this cruel Obligation ; Why wou'd you let fuch Venues in my View, And make the Father dearer than the Lover ? King. Since with fuch Rigour thou purfufl thy Vengeance, And what we meant fhou'd pacify, provokes it, Attend fubmiflive to our laft Refolve : For fince thy Honour's (o feverely uric!:, As not to ratify thy Father's Mercy, We'll right at once thy Duty and thy Lover ; Give thee the Glory o'i his Life purfu'd, And feal his Pardon to reward thy Vertue. Xim. Avert it Heav'n, that e'er my guilty Heart Shou'd impioufly infult a Father's Grave, And yield his Daughter to the Hand that kill'd him. D. San. Unnatural Thought ! Madam, fupprefs your Tears , Your murder'd Father was my deareffc Friend, Permit me therefore in your linking Caufe, To offer an Expedient may fupport it. Xim. Whatever Right or Juftice may, I am bound In Duty to purfue, and thank your Friendfhip. D. San The Heroick Daughter. 2^9 D. San. Thus then to Royal Juftice I appeal, And in Ximenas Right her Advocate, Demand from Carlos your Reverie of Pardon. King. What means thy Transport ? D. San. Sir, I urge your Laws, And fince her Duty's rorc'd to thefe Jixtreams, There's yet a Law from whence there's no Appeal, A Right which even your Crown's oblig'd to grant her, The Ri^ht of Combat, which I here demand ; And ask her Vengeance from a Champion's Sword. Car. O Sacred Sir, I caft me at your Feet, And beg your Mercy would relieve my Woes j Since her firm Duty is inflexible, Coniign her Victim to the braver Sword. Grant this Expedient to acquit my Crime, Or illence with my Arm her Heart's Reproaches : O nothing is (o painful as Sufpenfe, This way our Griefs are equally reliev'd, Her Duty is difcharg'd, your Juftice crown'd, And Conqueft mult attend Superior Vertue. ICing. This barbarous Law, which yet is unrepeal'd, Has often, againft Right, grofs Wrongs fupported, And robb'd our State of many noble Subjects j Nor ever was our Mercy tempted more T'oppofe its Force, than in our Care for Carlos : But fince his Peace depends upon his Love, And cruel Love infiits upon its Right, We'll truft his Vertues to the Chance of Combat, And let his Fate reproach, or win Ximena. Xim. What unforefeen Calamities furround me ? King. Ximena I now no more complain, we grant Thy Suit : But where's this Champion of thy Caufe, Whofe Appetite of Honour is fo keen, . As to conlront in Arms this laurell'd Brow, And dare the fhining Terrors of his Sword ? Ll z D.San. l6o The Heroick Daughter. D. San. Behold th' AfTailant of this glorious Hero ! Your Leave, Dread Sir, thus to appel him forth. [Draws. Bel. Hold Heart, and (pare me from the publick Shame. [Afide, D. San. Carlos, behold the Champion of Ximena, Behold th' Avenger of brave GormazJ Blood, Who calls thee Traytor to thy injui'd Love, Ungrateful to the Sighs that pity'd thee, And proudly partial thy Father's Falfhood : Thefe Crimes my Sword fhall prove upon thy Heart, And to defend them dares thee to the Combat. Car. Open the Lifts, and give the AiTaiiant room, There on his Life my injur'd Sword fhall prove, This Arm ne'er drew it but in Right of Honour : Firft, for thy Slander, Sanchez,-, I defy thee, And throwing to thy Teeth the Traytor's Name, Will wafli th' Imputation with thy Blood ; And prove thy Virtue ralfe as is thy Spirit : For not Ximena s Caufe, but Charms, have fir'd thee, Vainly thou fteal'ft thy Courage from her Eyes, And bafely ftain'ft the Vertuei that fubdu'd her. D. San. O that thy Fame in Arms King. Sanchez,, forbear ■ 'Tis not your Tongues muft arbitrate your Strife, Lqz in the Lifts your Vauntings be approv'd. Whofe Arm, Ximena, fhall defend your Caufe ? Xim. O Force of Duty ! Sir, the Arm of Sanchez, D. San. My Word's my Gage. King. 'Tis well ; the Lifts are let Let on the Morn the Combatants be cited, And, Felix, you be Umpire of the Field. Car. The Valiant, Sir, are never unprepar'd ; O Sir, at once relieve my Soul's Sufpenfe, And let this Inftant Hour decide our Fate. D. San. This Moment, Sir 1 join in that with Carlos. King. Since both thus prefs it, be it now decided: Carlos be ready at the Trumpet's Call ; Tou, Tloe Heroick Daughter. 26 1 You, Felix, when the Combat's done, conduct The Victor to our Prefence — Now, Ximena, As thou art juft or cruel in thy Duty, Expect the IiTue will reward or grieve thee : Sanchez,, let forward Carlos, we allow Thy pity'd Love a Moment with Ximma. [Exit King and Train, D. San. A fruitlefs Moment, that mud: prove his lad [Exit. Car. Ximena! O permit me e'er I die To tell thy Heart, thy hard Unkindnefs kills me. Xim. Ah Carlos ! can thy Plaints reproach my Duty ? Nay, art thou more than Sanchez, is, in Danger ? Car. Art thou more injur'd than thy haplefs Father ? Whofe greater Heart forgave my Senfe of Honour ? Thou can'ft not think I fpeak regarding Life, Which hopelefs of thy Love's not worth my Care j But Oh ! it ftrikes me with the laft Defpair, To think that lov'd Ximends Heart had lefs Companion than my mortal Enemy ; My Life had then indeed been worth Acceptance, Had thy relenting Throes of Pity fav'd it : But, as it is purfu'd to thefe Extreams, Thus made the Victim of fuperfluous Fame, And doom'd the Sacrifice of filial Rigour, Thefe Arms fhall open to thy Champion's- Sword, And glut the Vengeance, that fupports thy Glory. Xim. Haft thou no Honour, Carlos, to defend ? [Trembling. Car. How can I lofe what Sanchez, cannot gain ? For where's his Honour, where there's no Refiftance ? Is it for me to guard Ximends Foe, Or turn outrageous on the friendly Breaft, Which her diftrefsful Charms have warm'd to right her ? Xim. O cruel Carlos! thus to rack my Heart With hard Reproaches, that thou know'ft are groundlefs ; Why Z6'Z The Heroick Daughter. Why doft thou talk thus cruelly of Death, And give me Terrors unconceiv'd before I What tho' my Force oi Duty has purfu'd thee ? Haft thou not left thy Courage to defend thee I O ! is thy Quarrel to our Race reviv'd, Could'ft thou, to right thy Honour, kill my Father \ And now not guard it to deftroy Ximena ? Car. O heav'nly Sound ! O Joy untelt before ! Xim. O ! Is my Duty then not thought compulfive ? Can'ft thou believe I'm pleas'd while I purfue thee ? . Or think'ft thou I'm not pleas'd the King preferv'd thee ? And that thy Courage yet may ward my Vengeance ? O if thou knew'ft what Tranfports fill'd my Heart, When firft I heard the Moors had fled before thee, Thy Love wou'd feel Confufion for my Shame, And fcarce forgive the Paflion thou reproach'ft : Carlos, guard thy Life, and fave Ximena ! Car. And fave Ximena ! O thou haft fir'd my Heart With animated Love, and lav'd thy Carlos [_Sound Trumpets. But hark the Trumpet calls me to the Lift. Xim. May Heavens high Care, and all its Angels guard thee. Car. Words wou'd but wrong my Heart, my Sword fhall fpeak it : Sanchez,, I come impatient to chaftife Thy Love, which makes thee now the Criminal ; 1 might have fpar'd thee, had the Rival ilept, But boldly thus avow'd, thou art worth my Sword — 'Tis laid the Lion, tho' diftrefs'd for Food, Efpying on the Turf the Huntiman fleeping, Reftrains his Hunger, and forbears the Prey : But when his rouzing Foe, alarm'd and ready, Uplifts his Javelin brandifli'd to aifail him, The generous Savage then erects his Creft, Grinds his fharp Fangs, and, with fierce Eyes infkm'd, Surveys him worthy of his Rage defy'd, Furious, uprearing, ruihes on the Game, And The Heroick Daughter. 263 And crowns at once his Vengeance and his Fame. [Exit. Xim. O glorious Spirit ! O hard-fated Vertue ! With what Reluclance has my Heart purfird thee ? Bel. Was ever Breaft, like mine, with Woe divided ? I fear the Dangers ok the faithlefs Sanchez,, And tremble more for his dread Sword's Succefs : Shou'd Carlos fall What ftops him from Ximena ? Keep down my Sighs, or feem to rife for her. Xim. Tell me, Belz>ara, was my Terror blameful ? Might not his Pailion make my Heart relent, And feel, at fuch a Time, a Pang to fave him ? Bel. So far was your Companion from a Crime, That 'tis th' exalted Merit of your Duty ; Had Carlos been a Stranger to your Heart, Where were the Vertue, that your Griefs purfud him ? Were it no Pain to lofe him, where the Glory ? The Sacrifice that's great, muft firft be dear ; The more you love, the nobler is your Victim. Xim. Thy partial Friendfhip fees not fure my Fault, I doubt my youthful Ignorance has err'd, And the ftrici: Matron, rigidly fevere, May blame this Weaknels of my Woman's Heart : But let her feel my Tryal firft, and if She blames me then, I will repent the Crime. [Sound Trumpet at a Difiame. Hark ! hark ! the Trumpet ! O tremendous Sound ! Belz>ara I O the Combat is begun, The agonizing Terror fhakes my Soul, Help me ! fupport me ! with thy friendly Comforts ; O tell me what mv Duty owes a Parent, And warm my Wiihes in his Champion's Favour — Oh Heav'n ! it will not, will not be ! my Heart Rebels, and, fpite of me, inclines to Carlos, Who now again, in Sanchez^, fights my Father ', Now he attacks him, prelTes, now retreats j Again recovers, and ref Limes his Fire ; Nov? 2&4 The Heroick Daughter. Now grows too ftrong, and is at laft triumphant ! Bel. Reftrain thy Thoughts, colled thy Conftancy, Give not thv Heart imaginary Wounds, Thy Vertue muft be Providences Care. 1 Xim. O guard me, Heav'n Help me to fupport it ! ah ! [Trumpets and Shouts. 'Tis done, thofe dreadful Shouts proclaim the Victor ; If Carlos conquers, ftill I've loft a Father ; And if he perifhes, then die Ximena. Bel. Conquer who may, no Hope fupports Belz>ara. Enter Garcia. Came you, Don Garcia, from the Combat ? Gar. Madam, The King, to (hew he difapproves the Cuftom, Forbad his own Domefticks to be prefent. [Shouts nearer. But I prefume 'tis done, thefe Shouts confirm it ; Hence from this Window, we may guefs the Victor. Xim. O tell me quickly, while I've Senfe to hear thee. Gar. O Heav'n ! 'tis Sanchez, I fee him, with his Sword, In Triumph prefling thro' the Crowd his way. Xim. Sanchez, ! thou'rt fure deceiv'd ! O better yet Inform thy dazled Eyes. Gar. 'Tis certain he ! For now he flops, and feems to warn them back ; The Crowd retires, I fee him plain, and now He mounts the Steps that lead to this Apartment. Xim. Then fatal Vengeance, thou art dearly fated, Now Love unbounded may o'erflow my Heart, And Carlos' Fate, without a Crime, be mourn'd : O Sanchez, ! if poor Carlos told me true, Ir twas thy Love, not Honour, fought my Caufe, Thy Guilt has purchas'd, with thy Sword, my Scorn, And made thy Paffion wretched as Ximena. Bel The Heroick Daughter. 26$ Bel. Oh Heav n fupport her nobler Resolution But fee he comes to meet the Difappointment. Enter Don Sanchez, and lays his Szvord atXimem J s Feet. D. San. Madam, this Sword that in your Caufe was drawn Xim. Stain'd with the Blood of Carlos, kills Ximena. D. San. I come to mitigate your Griefs. Xim. Avant, avoid me, wing thee from my Sight j O thou haft given me, for Revenge, Defpair, Haft ravifh'd with thy murderous Arm my Peace, And robb'd my Wifhes of their deareft Object. D. San. Hear me but ipeak. Xim. Can'ft thou fuppofe 'twill pleafe me, To hear thy Pride triumphant, paint my Ruin, Vaunt thy vain Prowels, and reproach my Sorrows ? D. San. Thofe Sorrows, wou'd you hear my Story Xim. Hence ; To Regions diftant, as thy Soul from Joy, Fly, and in gloomy Horrors wafte thy Life : Remorle, and pale Affliction wait thee to Thy Reft, Repofe forfake thee, frightful Dreams Alarm thy Sleeps, and, in thy waking Hours, May Woes, like mine, purfue thy Steps for ever. Enter King. King. What, ftill in Tears, Ximena ! ftill complaining ! Cannot thy Duty's full Difcharge content thee ? Repin'ft thou at the Act of Providence ? And think'ft thy Caufe ftill wrong'd in Heaven's Decree ? Xim. O far, Sir, from my Soul be fuch a Thought, I bow fubmiftive to high Heaven's Appointment, But is Affliction impious in its Sorrow ? Tho' Vengeance to a Father's Blood was due, Vol. II. Mm Is 2.66 The H e R o i ck Daughter. Is it lefs glorious, that I piiz'd the Victim I Has Nature loft its Privilege to weep, When all that's valuable in Lite is gone ? Carlos ! Carlos ! I fhall foon be with thee. King. Are then thefe Tears for Carlos— O Ximena ! The vanquifh'd Sanchez, has deceiv'd thy Grief, And made this Tryal of thy generous Heart, For know thy Carlos lives, and lives to adore thee. Xim. What means my Royal Lord I King. Inform her, Sanchez,. D. San. The Fortune of the Combat I had told before. Had, Sir, her Fright endur'd my Speech ; 1 wou'd have tola you, Madam, as oblig'd In Honour to the conquering Sword of Carlos, How nobly, for your fake, he fpar'd your Champion j, ' When on the Earth fuccumbent, and difarm'd, I lay : ' Live, Sanchez,, faid the generous Vict or, *• The Life that fights Ximends Caufe, is Sacred j *• Take back thy Sword, and at her Feet prefent 6 The glorious Trophy which her Charms have won,. 4 The laft Oblation, that Defpair can make her.' Touch'd with the noble Fullnefs of his Heart, 1 flew to execute the grateful Charge ; But, Madam, your Affright miftook the Victor, And vour impatient Griefs refus'd me Audience. King. Now think, Ximena, one moment think for Carlos ! Xim. O Love ! O perfecuted Heart ! Inftrucl: me, Heaven, to fupport my Fame, To right mv Paflion, and revere my Father. D. San. And now, with juft Confufion, Sir, I own In me 'twas guilty Love, that drew my Sword ; But fince th' Event has crown'd a nobler Paflion, I plead the Merit of that Sword's Defeat, Regret the Error, and intreat for Pardon. King. The Heroick Daughter. 267 King. Sanchez^, thy Crime is puniflfd in itielf, We late have heard of thy retracted Vows, Which on thy ftrict. Allegiance we enjoin Thy Honour, inftantly to ratify : Supprefs thy Tears, Belz^ara, he fliall right thee. Xim.'Tis fixt, a Beam ofheav'nly Light breaks forth, And fhews my ruin'd Peace its Lift Refource. Gar. Don Carlos, Sir, attends your Royal Pleafure. King. Has he your Leove, Ximena, to approach ? Xim. O, Sir ! yet hold, I dare not fee iiim now, While my depending Juftice was my Guard, I law him fearlefs from AlTaults of Love : But now my vanquilh'd Vengeance dreads his Merit, And confeious Duty warms me to avoid him j Since then my Heart's impartial to his Vertues, O do not call me cruel to his Lovq, If I, in Reverence to a Father's Blood, Shou'd fliut my Sorrows ever from his Sight ; For tho' you raife above Mankind his Merit, And I confefs it — ftill he has kill'd my Father — Nay, tho' 1 grant the Fact may plead for Mercy, Yet 'twou'd in me be impious to reward it , My Eyes may mourn, but never mufl behold him more : Yet e'er I part, let, Sir, my humbled Senfe Applaud your Mercy, and confefs your Juftice : Hence to fome Sacred Cloifter I'll retire, And dedicate my future Days to Heav'n ,e Tis done — O lead me to my peaceful Cell, One Sigh for Carlos now vain World farewell [As Ximena is going off Enter Alvarez and Alonzo. Ah. Turn, turn, Ximena, O prepare to hear A Story will didract thy Senfe with Joy, Mm i Dnve 268 The Heroick Daughter- Drive all thy Sorrows from thy finking Heart, And crown thy Duty with triumphant Love. Pardon, dread Sir ! this Tumult of my Soul, That carries in my Rudenefs my Excufe ; O prefs me not to tell Particulars I But let my Tidings leap at once the Bounds Ot your Belief, and, in one Burft of Joy, Inform my Royal Mafter, that his Crowns Support, My vanqiiifh'd Friend, thy Father Gormaz,, lives ; He lives in Health confhm'd from mortal Danger, Thefe Eyes have feen him, thefe bleft Arms embrac'd him; The Means, th' Occafion of his Death fuppos'd, - Would ask more words than I have Breath to utter, AlonZiO knows it all O where's my Carlos ! King. Fly, Sanchez ! make him, with this News, thy Friend. jilv. O lead me, lead me, to his Heart's Relief [Exeunt*. Xim. O Heav'n ! Alvarez, wou'd not fure deceive me. King. Proceed, Alon&o, and impart the whole ; Whence was his Death fo firmly credited, And his Recovery not before reveal'd ? Alon. My Liege, the great Effufion of his Blood Had fuch EfFecT: on his deferted Spirits, That I, who faw him, judg'd him quite expir'd : But when the Abbot, at whole Houfe he lay, With friendly Sorrow wafli'd his hopelefs Wound, His heaving Bread difcover'd Life's Return ; When calling ftrait for Help, on ftricter Search, His Wound was found without a mortal Symptom : And when his Senfes had refum'd their Function, His firft Words fpoke his generous Heart's Concern For Carlos, and Ximma; when being told How far her filial Vengeance had purm'd him, ls't pofnble ? lie cry'd, Oh Heav'n ! then wept, And begg'ci his Life might be one Day conceal'd, That fuch exalted Merit of her Duty M; T ht raife her Vertue worthy of his Love : But, The Heroick Daughter. 26p But, Sir, to tell you how Alvarez^ met him, What generous Reconcilements pafs'd between them, Wou'd ask more Time than publick Joy cou'd fpare. Let it fuffice, the Moment he had heard Ximena had appell'd brave Carlos to the Lifts, We new with Terror to proclaim him Living But, Sir, fo foon the Combat follow'd your Decree, that, breathlefs, we arriv'd too late, And had not his Phyficians, Sir, prefcrib'd His Wound Repofe, himfelf had ventur'd forth To throw his Errors at your Feet for Pardon. King. Not only Pardon, but our Love fhall greet him. Brave Carlos fhall himielf be Envoy of Our Charge, and gratulate his bleft Recovery : Has he your Leave, Ximena, now t' approach you ? Xim. My Senfes ftagger with tumultuous Joy, My Spirits hurry to my Heart's Surprize, And linking Nature faints beneath the Tranfport. Enter Alvarez, Sanchez, and Carlos. King. Look up, Ximena, and compleat thy Joy. Xim. My Carlos ! Oh ! ?'*•/.■ Car. Ximena / O my Heart ! ^Embracing Ah. O Carlos ! O Ximena ! yet. fupprefs Thefe Tranfports, till kind CormazJ Hand confirms them : Firft pay your Duty there, hafte to his Feet, And let his Sanction confecrate your Love. King. Lofe not a Moment from his Sight ! O fly ! Tell him his King congratulates his Health, And will with Loads of Honour crown his Venues, Nor, in his Orifons, let his Heart forget The Hand of Heav'n, Wxiofe providential Care Has order d All the Innocent to fave, To right the Injur d, and reward the Brave. EPI- ( 27°) EPILOGUE, Spoken by Ximena. Well, Sirs Ml come to tell ycu, that my Fears are over, Fve feen Papa, and have fecurd my Lover : And, troth, Fm zvholly on our oAuthors Side, For had (as Corneille made him) Gormaz dyd, My Fart had ended as it firft begun, And left me fill unmarryd, and undone ', Or, what were harder far than both — — a Nun. The French, for Form indeed, poftpones the Wedding, But gives her Hopes within a Tear of Bedding. Time could not tie her Marriage-Knot with Honour, The Fathers Death fill left the Guilt upon her ; The Frenchman flops her in that fond Regard, The bolder Briton weds her in Rcioard : He knew your Tafle woud neer endure their Billing Shoud be Jo long deferrd, when both zvere zuilling : Tour formal Dons of Spain an Age wight wait, But Englilh Appetites are fharper Jet. y Tis true, this Difference zee indeed difcovcr, That though like Lions you begin the Lover, To do you Right, your Fury jcon is over. JBefide, the Scene thus changd, this Moral bears, That Vertue never of Relief defpairs : But Epilogue. 271 But zvhile true Love is (till in Plays ill-fated, No wonder you gay Sparks of Pleafure bate it ; Blood fled discourages what fhould delight you, And from a Wife what little Rubs will fright you ? And Virtue, not confiderd in the Bride, How foon you yawn and curje the Knot youve tyd £ How of t the Nymph, whofe pitying Eyes give Quarter, Finds, in her Captive, (he has caught a Tartar ? . While to her Spoufe, that once fo high did rate her, She kindly gives Ten Tljoufand Pounds to hate her. So, on the other Side, fome fighing Swain, 'That langmfhes in Love whole Tears in vain, Impatient for the Feajl, refolves he'll have her, And, in his Hunger, vows he'll eat for ever ; lie thinks of nothing but the Honey-Moon, But little thought he could have dind fo foon : Js not this true ? Speak Deary s of the Pit, Dorit you find too, how horribly you re bit i For the Inflruclion therefore of the Free, Our Author turns his jufi Cataftrophe : Before you wed, let Love be underftood, Refine ycur Thoughts, and chafe it from the Blood) Nor can you then of lajling Jo\s defpair, For zvhen that Circle holds the Britiih Fair, Tour Flearts may find Heroick Daughters there. TH" THE NON-JUROR- A COME D Y. As it is Aded at the Theatre-Royal, B y His MAJESTY'S Servants. -Pulchra Laverna ! Da miki fatter e ; da Ju/lum, Sanffumque videri, Nottem Peccatis, & Fraudibus objice Nubem. Ho R. V o l. IL N n ( *73 ) T O T H E K I N d. S I R, N a Time, when all Communities congratulate Your M a J e s t y on the Glories of Your Reign, which are continually arifmg from the Prosperi- ties of Your People ; be graciouily pleas d, Dread SIR, to permit the lowed of Your Subjects from the Theatre, to take this Occaiion of of- fering their moil humble Acknowledgments for Your Royal Favour and Protection. Your Comedians, SIR, are an Unhappy Society, whom fome Severe Heads think wholly Ufelefs, and others Dangerous to. the Young and Innocent : This Comedy is therefore an At- N n i tempt 274 Dedication. tempt to remove that Prejudice, and to fhew what Honeft and Laudable Ufes may be made of the Theatre,, when its Performan- ces keep clofe to the true Purpoies of its Inftirution : That it may be neceflary to divert the Sullen and Difaffected from buiy- ing their Brains to difturb the Happinefs oi a Government, which (for want of proper Amufements) they often enter into Wild and Seditious Schemes to reform ; and that it may like- wife make thole very Follies the Ridicule and Diversion even of thofe that committed them. Our Labours have at leaft this Glo- ry to boaft, That fince Plays were firfi exhibited in England, they were never totally fupprefsa, but by thofe very People who tuxn'd our Church and Conjlitution into Irreligion and dinarchy. Of all Errors, thofe that are the ErTed or Super flition make us naturally moft obftinate ; it is therefore no wonder, that the Blinded Profelytes of our Few Nonjuring Clergy are (o hard to be recover'd by the cleareft Evidences of Senfe and Reafon. But when a Principle is once made truly Ridiculous, it is not in the power of Human Nature not to be afhanid or it. From which Reflection I was firft determin'd to attack thofe lurking Enemies of our Conftitution from the Stage : And though my Succefs has far exceeded my Expectation, yet I grieve, when I (perhaps with Vanity) imagine it might have had thrice the good Effect on the Minds of Your Majesty's People, were it not under the Mis- fortune of being written by a Comedian. I am therefore in fome "Terror, notwithflanding its Publick Applauie, to reflect how far Your Majesty, in Your Wifdom, may think it proper to with-hold Your Pardon for the Unlicenfed Boldnefs of my Un- dertaking. I am fenfible it may be juftly urg'd againft me, That even Truth and Loyalty might have loft their Luftre, by appear- in^ reduced to want the Defence of Co inconfiderable a Champion : But as I never believ'd the heft Play could be fupported in an ill Caufe, fo was I affufd the worft might pafs, with Favour, in a Good-one. And though my Duty and Concern have made me more careful in the Conduct of this, than any of my former Endeavours ; I am convincd, that what may have been extraor- dinary in the Succefs of it, is utterly owing to a happy Choice of the Subject : And as its meeting no Oppofition from our Publick Dedication. 279 Publick Malecontents, feems, in fome degree, an Argument of the Clear and Honeft Truth of thoie Principles it vindicates ; fa may it of the equal Falfhood of the Rebellious and Unchriflian Tenets it expofes. Nay, I have yet a farther Hope, that it has even difcovered the Strength and Number of the Mifguided to be much lefs, than may have been artfully infinuated ; there be- ing no Aflfembly where People are fo free, and apt to fpeak their Minds, as in a Crouded Theatre : Of which Your Majesty may have lately feen an Inftance, in the InfuppreiTible Acclama- tions that were given on Your appearing to Honour this Play with Your Royal Prefence. But were the Dif affected yet as Numerous, at fome few may wiih them, what Honeft Englifhman can ever think them formida- ble, that confiders his Security in the Wifdom of Your Maje- st y's Counfels, and Your Heroick Resolution to execute them ? And as every Action of Your Regal Power has fhewn the Nation, that Your greateft Glory and Delight is in being the Father of Your People : fo may it convince its Enemies, that they will always find You KING of Your Subjecls. But I am wandring into Thoughts that awe me into Silence \ and humbly beg leave to Subfcribe my-felf, May it pleafe Tour Majesty, Tour M a jest y's mofl Dutifull, and Moft Obedient SubjecJ and Servant, COLLEY CIBBER. ( 2.-J6 ) SB mmmmmmmm^mmmmmmmmmmmmm Si * «' S 1 * <£> * *• $ * * ■* * «• *D '*' f? C » J » # * *2' * 'S' "£ •* •£ « R O L O G U E, Written by N. ROWE Efq; I O-Night, ye Whigs and Tories both be fafe, j | Nor hope, at one another's Coft, to laugh : We mean to foufe old Satan, and the Pope, They've no Relations here, nor Friends, we hope. A Tool of theirs Supplies the Comick Stage, With juft (^Materials for Satirick Rage : .Nor think our Colours may too ftrongly paint The ftiff Non-juring Separation-Saint. Good-Breeding neer commands us to be civil To thoj'e who give the Nation to the Devil ; Who at our Jurefl, be ft Foundations, fir ike, And hate our Monarch and our Church alike : Our Church, which*, awd with Reverential Fear, Scarcely the Mufe prefumes to mention here. Long may She Thefe her zvorft of Foes defy, And lift her Mitred Head triumphant to the Sky : While theirs Rut Satire ftlcntly dif dams To name, what lives not, but in Madmen s Brains, hike Bawds, each lurking Paftor Jeeks the Dark, And fears the Juftices enquiring Clerk : In clo'e back Rooms his routed Flocks he rallies, And reigns the Fatnarch of blind Lanes and Alleys : There, Prologue. There, fafe, he lets his thundring Censures fly, ZJnchriflens, damns us, gives our Laws the Lye \ And excommunicates Three-Stories high. Why, fince a Land of Liberty they hate, Still will they linger in this Free-born State ? Here, every Hour, frefh hateful ObjecJs rife, Peace and Profperity amitf their Eyes : With Anguijh, Prince and People they purvey, Their jufl Obedience, and His Righteous Sway. Ship off, ye Slaves, and feek fome Paffive Land, Where Tyrants after your own Hearts command : To your Tran falpine Majlers Rule rejort, And fill an empty Abdicated Court : Turn your PojJcfHons here to Ready Rhino, And buy ye Lands and Lord /hips at Urbino, *77 Dramatis Dramatis Perfona. M E N. Sir John Woodvil, Mr. Mills. Colonel Woodvil, Mr. Booth. Mr. Heartley, Mr. Wilks. Doctor Wolf, Mr. C'ibber. Charles, Mr. Walker. WOMEN. Lady Wbodvil, Mrs. Porter. Maria, Mrs. Oldfield. The SCENE, an Anti-Chamber of Sir J o h n's Houie in LO NDO N. ( i8i ) THE N O N -J U R O R. At $i A * ? -ft & ? -35- 4& <£- P -^ J*t 3& 4i Sra ' /rJ^ /r*^ r^t-r*. * *-i^ ^s*^ na t & ® Jfe jB^. Sl jJj. J* ® ■?;. i-i- &!■ ? *& **■ •-,'-- t #&. -"- 5& t -**■ -sfi Sg J»i ^£ A4 ^ «t C* «*■ J* «■ -Si ACT I. Sir John Woodvil and the Colonel. RAY confider, Sir. Sir John. So I do, Sir, that I am her Fa- ther, and will difpofe or her as I pleafe. Col. I don't difpute your Authority, Sir; but as I am your Son too, 1 think it my Duty to be concern'd for your Honour : Have not you countenance! his Addrelles to my Sifter ? Has not fhe receiv'd them ? How then is it pofli- ble, that either you or ihe with Honour can recede I Vol. II. Oo Sir 282 The N on- Juror. Sir John. Why, Sir ? Suppofe I was about buying a Pad-nag for your Sifter, and upon Enquiry fhould find him not found: Pray,* Sir, would there be any great Difhonour in being off" o' the Bargain ? Col. With Submiflion, Sir, I don't take that to be the Cafe. Mr. Hearth) s Birth and Fortune are too well known to you ; and I dare {wear he may defy the World to lay a Blemifh upon his Principles. Sir John. Why then, Sir, fince I muft be catechis'd, I mull tell you, I don't like his Principles : For I am inrorm'd he is a Time-ferver, one that bafely flatters the Government, and has no more Religion than you have. Col Sir, we don't either of us think it proper to make boaft of our Religion ; but if you pleafe to enquire, you will find we go to Church as orderly as the reft of our Neighbours. Sir John. Ay ! to what Church ! Col. St. James 's Church The eftablifh'd Church. Sir John. Eftablifh'd Church ! Col. Sir Sir John. Nay, you need not ftare, Sir ; and before he values himfelt upon going to Church, I would firft have him be fure he is a Chriftian. Col. A Chriftian, Sir ! Sir John. Ay, that's my Qiieftion, Whether he is yet chrift- ned ? I mean by a Paftor, that had a Divine, Uninterrupted, Suc- ceflive Right, to mark him as a Sheep of the true Fold ? Col. Is it poflibie? Are you an Englijhm..w, and offer, Sir, a Qiieftion {o uncharitable, not only to him, but the whole Na- tion. Sir John. Nay, Sir, you may give yourfelf what Airs of Amaze- ment you pleafe, 1 won't argue with you ; you are both of you too harden'd to be converted now : but fince you think it your Duty, as a Son, to be concern 'd for my Errors, I think it as much mine, as a Father, to be concern'd for yours I'll .only tell you of them j if you think fit to mend them (b— ■ if not take tire Conlequence. Col, The Non-Juror. 283 Col. [AfideT] O give me Temper, Heaven ! this vile Noniir ring Zealot ! what poifonous Principles has he fwell'd him with • Well, Sir, lincc vou don't think it proper to argue upon this Subject, I'll wave it too . But if I may ask it without O - fence, Are thefe your only Reafons for difcountenancing Mr. Heartleys Addrenes to my Sitter ? Sir John. Thefe ! Are they not flagrant ! Would vou have me marry my Daughter to a Pagan ! tor to he is, and all of vou, till you are regularly Christians. In ihort, Son, expect to in- herit no Eftate of mine, unlefs vou refolve to come into the Pale of the Church, of which I profefs myfelf a Member. Col. I thought I always was, Sir, and hope I am fo (till, unlefs you have lately been converted to the Roman. Sir John. No, Sir, I abhor the Thoughts on't, and proteft a- gainft their Errors as much as you do. Col. If fo, Sir, where's our Difference ? Sir John. Difference ! 'twould make you tremble, Sir, to know it ! but ilnce 'tis fit you fliould know it, look there — [Gives him a Book] read that, and be rerorm'd. Col. What's here ? [Reads.] The Cafe of Schifm, ckc. Thank you, Sir ; I have feen enough ot this in the Daily Ccurant, to be forry it's in any Hands but thole of the common Hangman. Sir John. Prophanation ! Col. And though I always honour'd your Concern for tlie Church's Welfare, I little thought 'twas for a Church that is efta- blifh'd no where. Sir John. O Perverfenefs ! but there is no better to be expec- ted from your Courfe of Life: This is all the Effects of your modern Loyalty, your Converfation at Buttons : Will you never leave that roul Neft of Herefy and Schifm ? Col. Yes, Sir, when I fee any thing like it there ; and fhould think myfelf obliged to retire, where tuch Principles wereftarted — I own Iufe the Place, becaufe I generally meet there inftrudtive or diverting Company. Sir John. Yes, fine Company indeed ! Brians, Party-Poets, Players, and Presbyterians. Ooi Col. 284 The N n - J u r o r. Col. That's a very unufual Mixture, Sir ; but if a Man enter- tains me innocently, am I oblig'd to enquire into his ProfeiTion or Principles ? Would not it be ridiculous for a Proteftant, that loves Muiick, to refufe going to the Opera, becaufe mod of the Performers are Papifhs ? But, Sir, this feems foreign to my Bufi- nefs j Mr. Heartley intends this Morning to pay his Refpects to you, in hopes to obtain your final Confent, and deiir'd me to be prefent, as a Mediator of Articles between you. Sir John. I am glad to hear it. Col. That's kind indeed, Sir. Sir John. May be not, Sir for I will not be at home when he comes. Col Nay, pray, Sir ; 'twill be but Civility, at leaft, to hear him. Sir John. And becaufe I won't tell a Lye for the matter, I'll go out this moment, Col. Good Sir ! Sir John. But becaufe I won't deceive him neither, tell him, I would not have him lofe his Time, in fooling after your Sifter t> in fhort, I have another Man in my Head for her. [Exit Sir John. Col. Another Man ! 'twould be worth one's while to know him Pray, Heaven ! this Nonjuring Hypocrite has not got fome beggarly Traitor in his Eye for her 1 muft rid the Houie of him at any rate, or all the Settlement I can hope from my Father is a Caftle in the Air ; nor can indeed his Life be fate, while (uch a Villain makes it an A<5t of Confcience to endanger it : If his Eyes are not foon opened againft him, the Crown's more likely to inherit his Eftate than I am ; and though the Government has been very favourable upon thefe Occaiions, it is but a melancholy Bufinefs to petition for what might have been one's Birthright. My Sifter may be ruin'd too — Here fhe comes ; if there be ano- ther Man in the Cafe, fhe, no doubt, can let me into the Secret. Enter Maria. Sifter, Good-morrow -I want to fpeak with you. Mar. Nay, but prithee, Brother, don't put on that wife poli- tick Face then : Why you look as if the Minority had like to have carried a Qucftion. Col. The Non-Juror. 289 Col. Come, come, a Truce with your Raillery ; what I have to ask or" you is ferious, and I beg you would be io in your Anfwer. o^kfar. Well then, provided it is not upon die Subject of Love, 1 will be Co but make hafte too -for I have not had my Tea yet. Col. Why it is, and is not upon that Subject. Mar. O ! I love a Riddle dearly come — -let's hear it. Col. Nay, pifh ir you will be ferious, fay fo. Mar. O Lard ! Sir, I beg your Pardon there there's my whole Form and Features totally difingag'd, and lifelefs at your Service ; now put them in what Pofture of Attention you think fit, [She leans againfi him, with her Arms awkardly falling to her Knees.'] Col. Was there ever fuch a giddy Devil ! prithee ftand up. I have been talking with my Father, and he declares poiitively you fhall not receive any further AddrelTes from Mr. Heartley. Mar. Are you ferious \ Col. He faid it this Minute, and with iome Warmth too. Mar. I am glad on't with all my heart. Col. How ! glad ! Mar. To a Degree : Do you think a Man has any more Charms for me for my Father's liking him r No, Sir, if Mr. Heart ley can make his way to me now, he is oblig'd to me only j befides, now it may have the Face of an Amour indeed. Now one has fbme- thing to ftruggle for ; there's Difficulty, there's Danger, there's the dear Spirit of Contradiction in it too. O I like it mightily I Col. I am glad this does not make vou think the worfe of Heart ley — but, however, a Father's Confent might have clapt a Pair ot Horfes more to your Coach perhaps, and the want or that may pinch your Fortune. Mar. Burn Fortune ! Am not I a fine Woman ? And have not I above 5000 /. in my own Hands I Col. Yes, Sifter ; but with all your Charms, you have had it in your Hands almoft thefe four Years ; pray confider that too. Mar. Pfhah ! And have not I had the full Swing of my own Airs and Humours thefe four Years ? Elk if 111 humour my Fa- ther, I'll warrant he'll make it three or four dioufand more, with fome zS6 The Non-Juror. fome unlick'd Lout of a Fellow to (hub me into the Bargain : A comfortable Equivalent truly ! No, no, let him light his Pipe with his Content if he pleafes. Wilful againft Wife for a Wager. . Col. Well faid ; nothing goes to your Heart, I find. Mar. No, no, Brother'; the Suits of my Lovers fhall not be ended, like tliofe at Law, by dull Counfel on both fides ; 111 hear nothing but what the Plaintiff himfelf can fay to me ; 'twould be a pretty thing indeed to confine my Airs to the Directions of a Sollicitor, to look kind, or cruel, only as the Jointure propos'd is or is not equal to the Fortune my Father defigns me. What ! do you think 111 have my Features put into the Gazette, to be difpos'd o£ like a parcel of duty Acres, by an old Mafter in Chancery, to the fairell Bidder ? No ; if I mull have an ill Match, III have the pleafure of playing my own Game at leaft. Col. There fpoke the Spirit of a Freeborn Englijhzvoman Well, I am glad you are not ftartled at the firft Part of my News however : but farther Pray, Sifter, has my Father ever pro- pos'd any other Man to you ? Mar. Another Man ! let me know why you ask, and 111 tell you. Col. Why, the laft Words he faid to me, were, That he had another Man in his Head for you. cellar. And who is it ? Who is it ? tell me, dear Brother, quickly. Col. Whv, you don't fo much as feem lurpriz'd at it ! Mar. No, but I am impatient, and that's as well, you know. Col. Why, how now, Sifter ? [Gravely. Mar. Why fine, Brother, you know very little of Female Hap- pinefs, if you fuppoie the Surprize of a new Lover ought to lhock a Woman ot my Temper don't you know that I am a Coquette ? Col. If you are, you are the firft that ever was fincere enough to own her being fo. Mar. To a Lover, I grant you ; but I make no more of you than a Sifter, I can fay any thing to you. Col. The Non-Juror. 287 Col. I ftiould have been better pleas'd if you had not own'd it to me it's a hateful Character. Mar. Ay, it's no matter for that, it's violently pleafant, and there's no Law againft it, that I know of. You had belt advife your Friend Heartley to bring in a Bill to prevent it : All the dif- carded Toalts, Prudes, and fuperannuated Virgins would give him their Intereit, I dare fwear : Take my word, Coquetry has governd the World from the Beginning, and will do (o to the End on't. Col. Heartley $ like to have a hopeful time on't with you. Mar. Well j but don't you really know who it is. my Father intends me ? Col. Not I really, but I imagin'd you might, and therefore thought to advife with you about it. eJkfar. Nay, he has not open'd his Lips to me yet Are you (lire he's gone out ? Col. You are very impatient to know methinks ? What have you to do to concern yourfeif about any Man but Heartley ? <*Mar. O Lud ! O Lud ! O Lud ! don't be ib wife, prithee Brother : Why, if you had an empty Houfe to lett, would you be difpleafed to hear there were two People about it ? Gan any Wo- man think herfelf happy, that's oblig'd to marry only with a Hob- Jons Choice ? No, don't think to rob me ot fo innocent a Vani- ty ; for, believe me, Brother, there is no Fellow upon Earth, how difagreeable foever, but in the long Run o^ his Addreiles will utter fomethingat leaft, that's worth a poor Woman's hear- ing. Befides, to be a little ferious, Heartley has a Tincture of Jealoufy in his Temper, which nothing but a fubilantial Rival can cure him of. Col. O ! your Servant, Madam, now you talk Reafbn j I am glad you are concern'd enough for Hartleys Faults, to think them worth your mending Ha ! ha ! (SMar. Concern'd ! Why did I fay that— r-look you, I'll deny it all to him — Well, if ever I am ferious with you again Col. Here he comes ; be as merry with him as you pleafe. oMar. Pfhah ! Enter 288 The Non-Juror. Enter Heartly. Maria takes a Book from the Table, and reads. Heart. Dear Colonel, your Servant. Col. 1 am gkd you did not come fooner, for in the Humour my Father left me, 'twould not have been a proper Time to have prels'd your Affair 1 touch'd npon't but 111 tell you more prefently ; in the mean time loie no Ground with my Sifter. Heart. I ihall always think my-felf obliged to your Friendfhip let my Succefs be what it will Madam your molt obe- dient — What have you got there, pray ? oPkfar. [Repeating.'] ** Her lively Looks a Sprightly ofMind difclofe, " §Ui lc k, as her Eyes, and as unfix d as thoje Heart. Pray, Madam, what is it ? o?Mar. " Favours to none, to all (he Smiles extends — Heart. Nay, I will fee — — [Struggling. of/ldar. [Putting him by.'] " Oft pe re\eBs but never once offends. Col Have a care ; flie has dipt into her own Character, and fhe'll never forgive you, if you don't let her through with it. Heart. I beg your pardon, Madam. [Gravely. oZMar. " Bright as the Sun, her Eyes the Gamers fir ike, " And like the Sun, they fhine on all alike urn — um. Heart. That is fbmething like indeed ! Col. You would fay io, if you knew all. Heart. All what ? Pray what do you mean ? Col. Have a little Patience, I'll tell you immediately. Heart. [Afide] Confufion ! fome Coxcomb now has been flat- tering her, I'll be curft elfe, flies fo full of her dear felf upon't. oJldar. [Turning to Heartley.] " If to her Share fome Female Errors fall, " Look on her Face and you U forget them all. Is not that Natural, Mi. Heartley? Heart. For a Woman to expect it, is indeed. Mar. And can you blame her, when 'tis at the fame time a Proof of the poor Man's Pailion, and her Power. Heart. The Non-Juror. 285? Heart. So that you think the greatcfl Compliment a Lover can make his Miftrefs, is to give up his Reafon to her. Mar. Certainly : For what have your lordly Sex to boaft of but your Underftanding ; and till that's entirely furrender'd to her Difcretion, while the leaft Sentiment holds out againft her, a Woman muft be downright vain to think her Conqueit compleated. Heart. There we differ. Madam ; for, in my Opinion, nothing but the moft exceflive Vanity could value or defire fuch a Con- que ft. Mar. O ! d'ye hear him, Brother ? The Creature reafons with me ! Nay, has the frontlefs Folly to think me in the wrong too ! O Lud ! he'd make a horrid Tyrant — pofltively I won't have him. Heart. Well, my Comfort is, no other Man will eafily know whether you will have him or not. Mar. [Aflecledly fmiling.'] Am not I a horrid, vain, filly Grea- ture, Mr. Heartley ? Heart. A little bordering upon the Baby, I muft own. Mar. Laud ! How can you love one (o then ? But I don't think you love me though do you ? Heart. Yes, Faith, I do ; and lb fhamefully, that I am in hopes you doubt it. Mar. Poor Man ! he'd feign bring me to Reafon. [Smiling in his Face.] Heart. I would indeed, nor am afham'd to own it —nay, were it but poilible to make you ferious only when you fhould be io, you would be to me the moft perfedl Creature of your Sex. Mar. O Lud ! he's civil Heart, Come, come, you have good Senfe, ufe me but with that, and make me what you pleafe. Mar. Laud ! 1 don't dehre to make any thing of you, not I. Heart. Don't look fo cold upon me, by Heaven I can't bear it. Mar. Well ! now you are tolemble. [Gent I) glancing on him.'] Heart. Come then, be generous, and fvvear, at leaft, you'll never be another's. Mar. Ah ! Lard ! now you have fpoil'd all again ; befides, how can I be lure of that before 1 have feen this t'other Man my Brother fpoke to me of I [Reads to herjelf again.] V o l. II. P p Heart. zpo Tite Non-Juror. Heart. What Riddle's this ? [To the Co/.] Col. I told you you did not know all : To be ferious, my Fa- ther went out but now on purpofe to avoid you. In fhort, he ab- folutely retraces his Promifes, fays he would not have you fool a- way your Time after my Sifter, and in plain Terms, told me, he had another Man in his Head for her. Heart. Another Man ! Confufion ! who ! what is he ? did not he name him ? Col. No ; nor has he yet fpoke of him to my Sifter. Heart. This is unaccountable- What can have given him this fudden Turn ? Col. Some Whim our confcientious Doctor has put in his Head, I'll lay my Life. Heart. He ! He can't be fuch a Villain, he profefles a Friend- fhip for me. Col. So much the worfe : By the way, I am now upon the Scent of a Secret, that I hope fhortly will prove him a Rogue to the whole Nation. Heart. You amaze me But on what Pretence, what Ground, what Reafon, what Intereft can he have to oppofe me ! This Shock is infupportable. [He fiands fixd, and mute. Col. [Afide to Maria.] Are you really as unconcern'd now as you feem to be ? oTkfar. Thou art a ftrange Dunce, Brother, thou knoweft no more of Love than I do of a Regiment You ftiall lee now how I'll comfort him [She goes to Heartley mimicks his Pojiure and Vneajinefs, then looks feriou/ly in his Face, and blurts into a Laughs] Heart. I don't wonder at your Good-Humour, Madam, when you have fo fubftantial an Opportunity to make me unealy for Life. oZMar. O Lud ! how wife he is ? Well, his Reproaches have that Greatnefs of Soul the Confufion they give one is infuppor- table Betty, is the Tea ready I Enter The Non-Juror. 291 Enter Betty. Betty. Yes, Madam. cpldar. Mr. Heartley, your Servant. [Exit. Col. So, Co, you have made a fine fpot of Work on't indeed! Heart. Dear, Tom. you'll pardon me, if I fpeak a little freely ; I . own the Levity of her Behaviour, at this time, gives me harder Thoughts, than I once believ'd it poilible to have of her. Col. Indeed, my Friend, you miftake her. Heart. O ! pardon me, had fhe any real Concern for me, the Apprehenfion of a Man's AddreiTes, whom yet fhe never law, mull have aiarm'd her to be fomething more than ferious. Col. Not at all, for (let this Man be who he will) I take all this Levity as a Proof of her Refolution to have nothing to fay to him. Heart. And pray, Sir, may I not as well fufpect, that this artful Delay oi her Good-Nature to me now, is meant as a provifional Defence againft my Reproaches, in cafe, when fhe has feen this Man, fhe fhould think it convenient to prefer him to me ? Col. No, no ; fhe's giddy, but not capable oC Co ferious a Falfhood. Heart. It's a fign you don't judge her with a Lover's Eye. Col. No ; but as a Stander-by, I often fee more of the Game than you do : Don't you know that fhe is naturally Coquette ? And a Coquette's Play, with a ferious Lover, is like a Back-Game at Tables, all open at firft ; fhe'll make vou twenty Blots ■ and you fpare none, take them All up, to be fure, while fhe gains Points upon you : So that when you eagerly expect to end the Game on your Side, flap as you were, fhe whips up your Man, fhe's fortify'd, and you are in a worfe Condition than when you begun with her Upon which, you know of courfe, you curfe your Fortune, and fhe laughs at you. Heart. Faith, you judge it rightly — I have always found it fo. Col. In fhort, you are in hafte to be up, and fhe's refolv'd to make you play out the Game at her leifiire ; you piay for the rair Stake, and fhe for Victory. P p 1 Heart. 2p2 The Non.Juror. Heart. But ftill,' what could fhe mean by going away fo ab- ruptly ? Col. You grew too lerious for her. Heart. Why, who could bear fuch Trifling ? Col. You fliould have laugh'd at her. Heart. I can't love at that eafy rate. Col. No If you could, the Uneafinefs would lie on her Side. Heart. Do you then really think fhe has any thing in her Heart for me I Col. Ay, marry, Sir — Ah ! if you could but get her to own that ferioufly now Lord ! how you could love her ! Heart. And fo I could, by Heaven ! [Eagerly embracing him. Col. Ay, but 'tis not the Nature of the Creature, you mu if take her upon her own Terms j tho', faith ! I thought fhe own'd a great deal to you but now : Did not you obferve, when you were impatient, with what a confcious Vanity fhe cry'd Now you are tolerable. Heart. Nay, the Devil can be agreeable when fhe pleafes. Col. Well, well, I'll undertake for her j if my Father don't ftand in your way, we are well enough : and I don't queftion but the Alarm he has given us, like his other politick Projects, will end all in Furno. Heart. What fays my Lady ? you don't think fries againft us ? Col. I dare fwear fhe is not ; fhe's of fo foft, fo fweet a Difpofi- tion, that ev'n Provocation can't make her your Enemy. Heart. How came to fine a Creature to marry your Father with fuch a vaft Inequality of Years ? Col. Want of Fortune, Frank : She was poor and beautiful, he rich and amorous She made him happy, and he her- Heart. A Lady. Col. And a Jointure Now fhe's the only one in the Family that has power with our precife Doctor, and I dare engage fhe'll life it with him, to perfuade my Father from any thing that's a- gainft your Intereft ; by the way, you muff know, I have fome fhrewd Sufpicions, that this fan&ify'd Rogue is carnally in love with her. Heart. The N on- Juror. 293 fleart. O the liquorifh Rafcal ! Col. You fhall judge by the Symptoms : Firft, he's jealous of every Male Thing that comes near her j and, under a friendly Pretence of guarding my Father's Honour, has perfuaded him to abolifh her Affemblies : Nay, at the laft Mafquerade, this confci- entious Spy (unknown to her) was eternally at her Elbow in the Habit of a Cardinal. At Dinner he never fails to fit next her, and will eat nothing but what fhe helps him ; always takes her fide in Argument, and, when he bows after Grace, conftantly o^les her ; bids my" Sifter, if fhe would look lovely, learn to drefs by" her ; and at the Tea-Table, I have feen the impudent Goat mod lafcivioufly fip off her Leavings. She loft one of her Slippers t'other Day (by the way fhe lias a mighty pretty Foot) and what "- do vou think was become of it ? Heart. You puzzle me. Col. I-gad> this Love-fide Monkey had ftole it for a private - Play-thing ; and one of the Houfe-Maids, when fhe clean 'd his Study, found it there, with one of her old Gloves in the middle of it. Heart: A very proper Relique, to put him in mind of his De- votions to Venus. Col. But, mum ! here lie comes. Enter Dr. Wolf and Charles. Doff. Charles, ftep up into my Study, and bring down half a" Dozen more of thole Manuals of Devotion that 1 compos'd for the Ufe of our Friends in Prifon ; and, doft thou hear ? leave this Writing there, but bring me the Key, and then bid the Butler ring to Prayers [Exit- Charles.] Mr. Heart ley, I am your moft faithful Servant, I hope you and the good Colonel will flay and join in the private Duties of the Family. Heart. With all my Heart, Sir, provided' you'll do the Duty of a SubjecT: too, and not leave out the Prayer for the Royal Family. Doff. The good Colonel knows I never do omit it. Col. Sometimes, Doctor ; but I don't remember I ever once heard you name them. Do.r 2^4 The Non-Juror. ~DoB. That's only to fhorten the Service, left in fo large a Fa- mily, fome few vain, idle Souls might think it tedious ; and we ought, as it were, to allure them to what's good, by the gentled, eafieft Means we can. Heart. How ! how, Doctor ! Are you lure that's your only Rea- fon for leaving their Names out? Doff. But, pray, Sir, why is naming them fo abfolutely nece£ fary ? when Heaven, without it, knows the true Intention of our Hearts Beiide, why fhould we, when we fo eafily may avoid it, give the leaft Colour of Offence to tender Conf ciences ? Col. Ay! now you begin to open, Doctor Heart. Have a care, Sir ; the Confcience that equivocates in its Devotions, muft have the blacked: Colour Hell can paint it with. Col. Well faid ! To him, Hartley. Heart. Your Confcience, I dare fay, won't be eafily convinced, while your Scruples turn to fo good account in a private Family. Doh\ What! am I to be baited then but 't won't be always Holiday — [Frowning.] The Time's now yours, but mine may come. Col. What do you mean, Sir ? T)off. Sir, I fhall not explain myfelf, but make your beft of what I've laid. I'm not to be intrap'd by all your fervile Spies of Power But Power perhaps may change its Hands, and you, e'er Ions;, as little dare to fpeak your Mind as I do. Col. [Taking him by the Collar!] Hark you Sirrah ! Dare you me- nace the Government in my Hearing ? Heart. Nay, Colonel. [Interpojing.] DoB. Tis well! Col. Tray tor! but that our Laws have Chains and Gibbets for fiich Villains, I'd this Moment crackle all thy Bones to Splinters. [Shakes him.] Dott. Very well! your Father, Sir, fhall know my Treatment. Heart Nay, dear Colonel, let him go ! Col I ask your pardon, Frank, I am afham'd that fuch a Wretch could move me fo. Heart. Come, compofe yourfelf. Dott. \Afide, and recovering himfelf.] No, I'll take no notice of it I know he's warm and weak enough to tell this as his own The Non-Juror. z ^ own Story to his Father let him — 'tis better fo 'twill but confirm Sir John in his good Opinion of my Charity, and fer\e to ruin him the rafter. [Exit. Heart. Was there ever fo infolent a Rafcal ? Col. The Dog will one Day provoke me to beat his Brains out. Heart. Who could have believ'd fuch outrageous Arrogance could have lurk'd under fo Lamb-like an Out-fide ? Col. This Fellow has the Spleen and Spirit of ten Beckets in him. Heart. What the Devil is he ? whence came he ? what's his Original ? - Is he really a Doctor ? Col. So he pretends j and that he loft his Living in Ireland upon his refilling the Oaths to the Government. Now I have made the ftricteft Enquiries, and can't find the leaft Evidence that ever he was in the Country. But (as I hinted to you) there is now in Prifon a poor unhappy Rebel I went to School with, whofe Pardon I am folliciting; and he alTures me, he knew him very well in Flanders, and in fuch Circumftances, as when it can be Serviceable to me to know them, he faithfully promifes to dis- cover; but begs till then I will not infift upon it. Heart. I-gad this Intelligence may be worth your cherifhing.. Col. Hah! here's my Sifter again. Enter Maria ha fitly, Doff or Wolf following. Mar. You'll find, Sir, I will not be us'd thus : Nor fhall your Credit with my Father protecl: your Infblence to me. Heart.) and> What's the matter ? Col. 5 oZMar. Nothing; pray be quiet 1 don't want you ftand out of the way [Tfoy retire.] Col. What has the Dog done to her ? Mar. How durft you bolt with fuch Authority into my Cham- ber, without giving me notice ? Heart. Conriifion! Col. Now, Frank, whofe turn is it to keep their Temper ? ) Heart. [Struggling^] 'Tis not mine, I'm fore. \^4part. Col. Hold^— — If my Father won't refent this, 'tis thenC time enough for me to do it. ^ Doff. 2p<5 The Non-Juror. Doc?. Compote your Transport, Madam, I came by your Fa- ther's Dsfire ; who being inform'd that you were entertaining Mr. Jieartley, grew impatient, and gave his pofitive Command, that vou attend him inftantly, or hehimfelf, he lays, will fetch you. Heart. So ! now the Storm is riling. Doff. So for what I have done, Madam, I had his Authority, and fliall leave him to aniwer you. oZVIar. 'Tis falfe, he gave you no Authotity to intuit me ; or if he had, did you fuppole I would bear it from you ? What is it you prefume upon ? your Function ? Does that exempt you from the Manners or a Gentleman ? Doff. Shall I have any Anfwer to your Father, Lady ? Mar. I'll lend him none by you. Doff. I (hall inform him To. [Exit. . leering proper Staves adapted to the Day, 3 Ditto, — For Lemons and Arrack fent into Newgate, 09 05 00 Col. Well, while they drink it in Newgate, much good may it do them. Paid to Henry Conscience, Juryman, for his extraordi-p nary Trouble in acquitting Sir Prejion Rebel 0/ hisr 53 1 5 00 Indictment, Allow'd to Patrick Mac-Rogue, of the Foot-Guards, lor? * ^ prevailing with his Comrade to defert, ■ 3 Given as Smart-Money to Humphrey Stanch, Cobler,? lately whipt for fpeaking his Mind oi the Govern-r 03 04. 0(5 ment, Paid Abel Perkin, News- Writer, for divers feafonablei Paragraphs, ■—[ Aug. the 1 it, Paid to John Shoplift and lemmas High-7 way, for endeavouring to put out the Enemiesr 02 Oj 00 Bonfire, ■ — Am. the 2d, Paid the Surgeon for Sear-cloth, for their? , £ - c ' & > 01 01 06 Bruiies, ■ ■ — ■ 3 Was there ever fuch a Heap or ftupid, cold-fcented Treafon ? Now, Madam, I hope you fee the Neceility of blowing up this Traitor : Theie are Lengths I did not think mv Father had sone with him : What vile, what low Sedition, has he made him floop to ? Lady W. I tremble at the Precipice he ftands on ! Mar. O blefs us ! I am in a cold Sweat j dear Brother, leave it where you found it Vol. II. Rr LadyW. 05 00 00 $o6 The Non-Juror. Lady W. By all means j if Sir John fhould know it's in your bands, it may make him defperate Col. You are in the right, Madam. [He lays down the Paper. Lady W. Let's fteal into the next Room, and obferve that no body elfe takes it up; he'll certainly come back to look fort. Col. But I muit leave you ; poor Heartly flays for me at White's, and he'll fit upon Thorns, till I bring him an account of his new Rival. Mar. Well, well, get you gone then. [Exeunt. Enter *$» John in a Hurry. Sir John. Undone ! Ruin'd ! where could I drop this Paper I — Hold — let's fee — [He finds it.'] Ah ! here it is — What a blefled r Scape was this ? If my hot-brain'd Son had found it, I fuppoie by to-morrow \\e would have been begging my Eftate for the Diicovery ~"~~ [Enter Doctor Wolf. O Doctor ! all's well : I have found my Paper. DoB: I am fincerely glad of it It might have ruin'd us. Six: John. Well, Sir, what fay our laft Advices from Avignon ? Doff. All goes right The Council has appro v'd our Scheme, and prefs mightily for Difpatch among our Friends in England. Sir John. But pray Doctor- Do^?. Hold, Sir now we are alone, give me leave to in- form you better Not that I am vain of any worldly Title ; bur fince it has pleas'd our Court to dignify me, our Church's Right obliges me to take it. Sir. John. Pray, Sir, explain. Dod. Our laft Exprels has brought me this —[He fhews fe Writing] which (far unworthy, as I am) promotes me to the va- cant See of Thetford. Six John. Is it podible ? My Lord, I joy in your Advancement. T)ott. It is indeed a Spiritual Comfort to find my Labours in the Caufe are not forgotten ; though I mult own, fome lefs con- fpicuous Inftance of their Favour had better fuited me. Such high Diftinctions are invidious ; and it would really grieve me, Sir, among my Friends to meet with Envy, where I only hope for Love : not but I fubmic in any way to ferve them.. Sir The N on. Juror. 307 Sir John. Ah ! good Man ! this Meeknefs will, I hope, one day- be rewarded but pray Sir — my Lord! — I beg your Lord/hip's pardon pray what other News ? How do all our Friends ? Are they in heart, and chearfui ? Doc?. To a Man ! never in fuch fanguine Hopes— — the Court's extremely throng'd never was there fuch a Concourfe of War- like Exiles : though they talk, this fharp Seafon, of removing far- ther into Italy, for the benefit of milder Air : Well ! the Catho- licks are the imcereft Friends ! Shjohn. Nay, I muft do them juftice, they are truly Zealous in the Caufe ; and it has often griev'd my Heart, that our Churches Differences are 10 utterly irreconcileable. Doff. O nourifh. ftill that charitable Thought ! there's fome- thing truly Great and Humane in it : and really, Sir, if you exa- mine well the Doctrines laid down by my Learned Predeceffor, in his Cafe of Schifm, you will find thole Differences are not fo ter- ribly material, as fome obftinate Schifmaticks would paint them. Ah ! could we but be brought to Temper, a great many feeming Contradictions might be reconcil'd on both Tides : But while the Laity will interpret for themfelves, there is indeed no doing it Now, could we, Sir, like other Nations, but once reftrain that monftrous Licence : Ah! Sir, a Union then might loon be practi- cable. Sir John. Auh ! 'twill never do here : The TLnglifh are a ftub- born headftrong People, and have been (o long indulg'd in the Vie of their own Senfes ; that, while they have Eyes in their Heads you will never be able to perfuade them they can't fee, there's no making them give up their Human Evidences : and your Credo quia Imfombile eft, is an Argument they will always make a jeft of. No, no, it is not Force will do the thing, your Prefs'd Men don't always make the beft Soldiers. *And truly, my Lord, we feem to be wrong too in another Point, to which I have often imputed the ill Succefs of our Caufe : And that is, the taking into our Party fo many loofe Perfons of diilblute and abandon'd Mo- rals ; Fellows, whom in their daily private Couife of Life, the Pillory and Gallows feem to groan for. Rr 1 Z>~ Cf. 3o8 The Non-Juror. Doff. 'Tis true indeed, and I have often wifh'd 'twere poffible to do without them ; but in a Multitude all Men won't be all Saints : and then again they are really ufeful ; nay, and in many things, that fober Men will not ftoop to They ferve, poor Curs, to bark at the Government in the open Streets, and keep up the wholefome Spirit of Clamour in the common People: and, Sir, you cannot conceive the wonderful Ufe of Clamour, 'tis ib teizing to a Miniftry, it makes them winch and fret, and grow uneafy in their Pods Ah ! many a comfortable Point has been gain'd by Clamour ! 'tis in the Nature of Mankind to yield more to that, than Reafbn Even Socrates himfelf could not refill: it ; for wife as he was, yet you fee his Wife Xantippe carry'd all her Points by Clamour. Come, come, Clamour is a ufeful Monfter, and. we mnft feed the hungry Mouths of it ; it being of the lafl importance to us, who hope to change the Government, to let it have no quiet. Sir John. Well, there is indeed no refilling meer Neceflity. Doff. Befides, if we fiiffer our Spirits to cool here at home, our Friends abroad will fend us over nothing but Excufes. Sir John. 'Tis true ; but flill I am amaz'd, that France fo totally Ihould have left us Mar dyke, they fav> will certainly be demo- Mh'd. Doff. No matter, let them go we have made a good Ex- change, our new Ally is yet better, as he is lefs fufpected But to give them their due, we have no Spirits among us like the Women, the Ladies have fupported our Caufe with a furprizing Conflancy. O ! there's no daunting them, ev'n with ill Succefs ! they will flarve their very Vanities, their Vices, to feed their Loyalty : I am inform'd that my good Lady Countefs of Night- and-Day has never been feen in a New-Gown, or has once thrown a Dye at any of the Affemblies, fince our laft General Contri- bution. Sir John. O my good Lord ! if our Court abroad but knew what Obligations they have to your indefatigable Endeavours ! Doff. Alas ! Sir, I can only boafl an honeft Heart, my Power is weak, I only can ailitl them with my Prayers and zealous Wifhes ) or if I had been ferviceable, have not you, Sir, overpaid me I The Nonjuror. ^ p me ? Your Daughter, Sir, the fair oJldaria, is a Reward no Merit can pretend to. Sir John. Nay, good my Lord, this tender Gratitude confounds me Othis infenfible Girl ! Pray excule me [Weeps. .DocJ. You feem'd concern'd, pray what's amifs ? Sir John. That I fhould be the Father of fo blind a Child ; alas ! ihe flights the Bleiling I propos'd, fhe {ees you not, my Lord, with my fond Eyes ; but lay not, I befeech you, at my Door, the ungrateful Smbbornnefs of a thou^htlefs Girl. Doff. Nay, good Sir, be not thus concern'd for me, we muft allow her Female Modefty a time, your ftricl: Commands perhaps too fuddenly furpriz'd her ; Maids muft be (lowly, gently dealt with ; and might I, Sir, prefume to advife Sir John. Any thing, your Will fhall govern me and her. ~Dotl. Then, Sir, abate of your Authority, and let the Matter reft a while : Suppofe I fir ft fhould beg your good Lady, Sir, to be my Friend to her ; Women will hear from their own Sex, what fbmetimes, e'en from the Man they like, would ftartle them : May I have your PermifTion, Sir, when Dinner is remov'd, to en- tertain my Lady on this Subject privately ? Sir John. O ! by all means, and troth, it is an excellent Thought, I'll go this inftant and prepare her to receive you, and will myfelf contrive your Opportunity. Doff. You are too good to me, Sir too bountiful. Sir John. Nay, now, my Lord, you drive me from you. Doti. Pray pardon me. Sir John. No more, I beg you, good my Lord your Ser- vant. [Exit. Dott. Ha ! ha ! What noble Harvefts have been reapd from bigotted Credulity, nor ever was a better Inftance of it. Would it not make one fmile ? that it fhould ever enter the Brains of this Man (who can in other Points diftinguifh like a Man) that a Proteftant Church can never be fecure, till it has a Popifh Prince to defend it. Enter Charles. So Charles, haft thou finifh'd thofe Letters I Charles. 3io The N on- Juror. Charles. I have brought them, Sir. Doc?. 'Tis very well, let them be feal'd without a Direction, and give them to Aaron Sham the Jew, when he calls for them O ! and here liep yourfelf this Afternoon to Mr. De- feasance of Grays -Inn, and give him this Thirty Pound Bill from Sir Harry Foxhound, beg him to lit up Night and Day till the Writings are finifli'd ; lor his Trial certainly comes on this Week, he knows we can't always be fure of a Jury, and a moment's De- lay may make the Commiilioners lay hold of his Eftate. Charles. My Lord, I'll take the utmoft Care. Doc?. Well, Charles. [Gravely fmling.'] Charles. Sir John has told me of the new Duty I ought to pay you when in private. Doc?. But take efpecial heed that it be only private. Charles. Your Lordfhip need not caution me my Lord, I hear another Whifper in the Family ; I'm told you'll Ihortly be ally'd to it : Sir John, they fay, has actually contented : I hope, my Lord, you'll find the fair Maria too as yielding. Doff. Such a Propofal lias indeed been itarted, but it will end in nothing : Maria is a giddy wanton thing, not form'd to make a wife Man happy ; her Life's too vain, too fenfual to elevate a Heart like mine : No, no, I have Views more ferious. Charles. O my fluttering Joy ! [A fide. Doc?. Marriage is a State too turbulent for me. Charles. But with Sir Johns Confent, my Lord, her Fortune may be confiderable. Doc?. Thou know'lt, Charles, my Thoughts of Happinefs were never form'd on Fortune. Charles. No ! I find that by the Settlement. [Afide. Doc?. Or if they were, they would be there impoiTible; Ma- rids vain Diitaite of me, I know is as deeply rooted, as my Con- tempt of her : And canft thou think I'd ftain my Character to be a Wanton's Mockery, to follow through the Wilds of Folly fhe would lead me, to cringe and doat upon a fenfelels Toy, that every Feather in a Hat can purchale. Charles. But mayn't Sir John take it ill, my Lord, to have her flighted ? Doc?. The Non-Juror. 311 T)o&. No, no -, her ridiculous Averfion will fecure me from his Reproaches. Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir, my Matter defires to fpeak with you. ~Dott. I'll wait on him Charles, you'll take care of my Di- rections. Charles. I'll be fure, Sir. [Exit Dottor. Kind Heaven, I thank thee ! this Bar, fo unexpectedly remov'd, gives Vigour to my Heart, and is, I hope, an Omen of its For- tune But I muft lofe no time, the Writing may be every mo- ment called for this is her Chamber. He knocks f oft ly and Betty enters to him. Is your Lady bufy ? Betty. I think fhe's only a reading. Charles. Will you do me the Favour to let her know, if fhe is at leiiiire, I beg to fpeak with her upon fome earned Bufinefs. Maria entring with a Book. Mar. Who's that ? 'Betty. She's here Mr. Charles, Madam, defires to fpeak with you. Mar. O ! Your Servant, Mr. Charles Here, take this odi- ous Homer, and lay him up again, he tires me. [Exit Betty with the Book.~] How could the blind Wretch make fuch a horrid Fufs about a fine Woman, for {o many Volumes together, and give us no Account of her Amours ? . You have read him, I fuppofe, in the Greek, Mr. Charles. Charles. Not lately, Madam. Mar. But do you io violently admire him now ? Charles. The Criticks fay he has his Beauties, Madam ; but Ovid has been always my Favourite. Mar. Ovid ! O ! he's ravifhing Charles. And fo art thou to Madneis. [Afide. Mir. Lord ! how could one do to learn Grsekj was you a great while about it i Charles. 312 The Non-Juror. Charles. It has been half the Bufinefs of my Life, Madam. ayMar. That's cruel now ! then you think one can't be Mifttefs of it in a Month or two. Charles. Not eafily, Madam. oZMar. They tell me it has the fofteft Tone for Love of any Language in the World, I fancy I could foon learn it 1 know nvo words oi it already. Charles. Pray, Madam, what are they \ o^ldar. Stay, let me fee O ay—^-Zoe, kai Pfyche. Charles. I hope you know the Englijh o£ them, Madam. Mar. O lud ! I hope there's no harm in it j I am fure I heard the Doctor fay it to my Lady Pray, what is it ? Charles. You muft fnft imagine, Madam, a tender Lover ga- zing on his Miitrefs, and then indeed they have a Softnefs in them, as thus Zoe, kai Pfyche ! my Life ! my Soul ! Mar. O the impudent young Rogue ! how his Eyes fpoke too ! \_Afide?\ What the duce can he want with me ! Charles. I have ftartled her, ihe mufes. [AJide. Mar. It always ran in my Head this Fellow had fomething in him above his Condition I'll know prefently. \_Apde7\ Well, but your Bufinefs with me, Mr. Charles ; you have fome- riiin"" of Love in your Head now, I'll lay my Lite on't. Charles. I never yet durft own ir, Madam. c^kfar. Why, what's the Matter ? Charles. My Story is too melancholy to entertain a Mind To much at eafe as yours. Mar. O ! I love melancholy Stories of all things. Charles. But mine, Madam, can't be told, unlefs I give my r Life into your power. ofldar. O Lud ! you have not done any body a mifchief, I hope. Charles. I never did a private Injury ; if I have done a pub- lick Wrong, I'm fure it might, in me, at lealt, be called an honeft Error. Mar. Pray whom did you ferve before you liv'd with the Doc- tor ? Charles. The Nom .Juror- 313 Charles. I was not born to ferve ; and had not an unfortunate Education ruin'd me, might have now appear'd, like what I am by Birth, a Gentleman. oTldar. I am forpriz'd ! Your Education, fay you, ruin you ? Lord ! I am concern'd for you. Pray let me know your Story ; and if any Services are in my power, I am fore you may com- mand them. Charles. Such foft Companion, from fo fair a Bofom, o'erpays the worlt that can attend my owning; what I am. a^kfar. O your Servant but pray let's hear. Charles. My Father's elder Brother, Madam, was a Gentleman of an antient Family in the North, who having then no Child himlelf, begg'd me, from my Nurfe's Arms, to be adopted as his own, with an AiTurance too of making me his Heir ; to which my Father (then, alas ! in the Infancy ot his Fortune) eafiiy ann- iented. This Uncle being himfelf fecretly difarFefted to the Government, gave me of courie, in my Education, the lame unhappy Prejudices, which fince have ended in the Ruin of us both. Apart. Col. How, Sir ? 3 Sir John. Obferve, and be convinc'd. Doff. I have it. [Mufing. Lady W. [To the Doffor.'] Methinks this Bufinefs needs not, Sir, (o long a Paufe. Doff. Madam, I cannot eafily give up fuch honeft Hopes. Lady W. Honeft ! Doff. Perhaps my Years are thought unequal to my Flame ; but, Lady, thole were found no ftrong Objection 'twixt Sir John and you : And can you blame me then for following fo fore a Guide in the fame youthiul Path to Happinefs. Lady W. Is this your Refolution then ? . Col. Will you let him go on, Sir ? j Sir John. Yes, Sir, to confound your Slander. C Apart. Col. Monftrous ! 3 Doff. Can you fuppofe my Heart lefs capable of Love than his t Is it for me to puih'the Blefhng from me too ? For though my Flame has been o± long Duration, my confcious Want of Merit The Non-Juror. : 27 Merit kept it ftill conceal'd, till his Good-Nature brought it to this bleft Occafion ; and can you then, fo authoriz'd, rerufe your friendly Pity to my Sufferings ? One Word horn you compleats my Joy ; in you, Madam, is my only Hope, my Fear, my Eafe, my Pain, my Torment, or my Happinefs : Maria ! O Maria ! Col. Conrufion ! Sir John. [Coming forward zvith the Colonel^] Now, vile De- tractor of all Virtue, is vour outrageous Malice vet confounded ? Did not I tell you too, he only made an Intereft here to gain your Sifter ? Col. His Devil has out-reach'd me. [Afidc. Sir John. Is this your rank Detection of his Treachery ? Doti. Sir John, I did not fee you, Sir ; I doubt you are come too loon, I have not yet prevail'd with her. [Afide to him. Sir John. Ah ! good Man, be not concerned ; your Trouble fhall be fhorter for't ; I'll force her to Compliance. Lady W. What have you done your Impatience has^ ruin'd all. > Apart. Col. I fee it now too late. j Sir: John. Now, Sir, will your bafe Prejudice of Party never be at reft ? Am I to be ftill thought partial, blind, and obftinate, to favour fo much injur'd Virtue ; if thou art a Man not loft to Con- ference, or to Honour, then, like a Man, repair this Wrong, con- fefs the Rancour of thy vile Sufpicion, and throw thee at his Feet for Pardon. Do£t. What mean you, Sir ? Lady W. [Afide.~] While he is in this Temper, he will not ea- fily be undeceiv'd I've yet an After-game to play, till when, 'tis beft to leave him in his Error. [Exit Lady Woody i I. Sir John. What ! mute ! defencelefs ! hardned in thy Ma- lice ? Col. I fcorn the Imputation, Sir, and with the fame repeated Honefty avow (howe'er his Cunning may have chang'd Appearan- ces) that you are ftill deceiv'd, that all I told you, Sir, was true ; thele Eyes, thefe Ears were Witneifes of his audacious Love, without the mention of my Sifter's Name, directly, plainly, grofty tending to abufe the Honour of your Bed. Sir 328 The Non-Juror. Sir John. Audacious Monfter ! were not your own Senfes Evi- dence againft your frontlefs Accufation ? I fee your Aim ; Wife, Children, Servants, all are bent againft him, and think to weary me, by groundless Clamours, to difcard him, but all fhall not do, your Malice on your own vile Heads ; to me, it bu.t the more endears him : either fubmit, and ask his Pardon for this Wrong— Bod. Good Sir ! Sir John. Or this Inftant leave my Sight, my Houle, my Fa- mily lor ever. Dott. What means this Raftmefs, Sir ? on my Account it muft not be, what would the World report of it ? I grant it poflible he loves me not, but you muft grant it too as poflible he might miftake me ! it muft be Co He is too much your Son to do his Enemy a wilful Injury : If he, I fay, fuppos'd my Converfe with vour Lady criminal, to accufe me then was but the Error of his Virtue, not his Bafenefs, you ought to love him, thank him for fuch watchful Care : Was it for him to fee, as he believ'd, vour Honour in Co foul a danger, and ftand concernlefs by P The Law of Heaven, of Nature, and of Filial Duty, all oblig'd him to alarm your Vengeance, and detect the Villany. Sir John. O Miracle of Charity. T>ott Come, come, fuch Breaches muft not be, betwixt Co "ood a Son and Father ; forget, forgive, embrace him, cherifh him, and let me blefs the Hour I was the Occafion of fo fweet a Reconcilement. Sir John. I cannot bear fuch Goodnefs ! O link me not into the Earth with Shame Hear this, Perverfe and Reprobate ! O ! couldft thou wrong fuch more than mortal Virtue ! Col. Wrong him ! the hardned Impudence of this painted Charity Sir John. Peace, Monfter ■ Col. Is of a blacker, deeper Dye, than the great Devil himfelf in all his Triumphs over Innocence ever wore. Sir John. O gracelefs Infidel ! Col. No, Sir, though I would hazard Life to fave you from the Ruin he mifleads you to, could die to reconcile my Duty to your Favour ; yet, on the Terms that Villain offers, 'tis Merit to re- fufe The Non-Juror. 329 fufe it : I glory in the Difgrace your Errors give me But, Sir, I'll trouble you no more : To-day is his to-morrow may be mine. [Exit Col. Doff. I did not think he had had fo hard a Nature. Sir John. O, my good Lord, your charitable Heart difcovers not the Rancour that's in his : but what better can be hoped for, from a Wretch fo fwell'd with Spleen, and Rage of Party I Doff. No, no, Sir, I am the Thorn that galls him ; 'tis me, 'tis me he hates ; he thinks I (land before him in your Favour : and 'tis not fit indeed I fhould do fo j for fallen as he is, he's ftill your Son, and I, alas ! an Alien, an Intruder here, and ought in Confidence to retire, and heal thefe haplefs Breaches in your Family ? Sir John. What means your Lord/hip ? Doff. But I'll remove this Eye-fore Here, Charles • [Enter Charles. Sir John. For Goodnefs fake ! Doff. Bring me that Writing I gave you to lay up this Morning Charles. Now Fortune favour us. [Afide^\ [Exit Charles. Sir John. Make haft e, good Charles, it fhall be fign'd this Moment. Doff. Not for the World : 'twas not to that end I fent for it, but to refufe your kind Intentions ; for with your Childrens Cur- fes, Sir, I dare not, muft not take it. Sir John. Nay, good my Lord, you carry it now too far : my Daughter is not wrong'd 6y it, but if not obitinate, may ftill be happy j and for my wicked Son, fhall he then heir my Lands, to propagate more miferable Schifmaticks ? No, let him depend on you, whom he has wrong'd ; perhaps in time he may reflect upon his Father's Juftice, be reconcil'd to your rewarded Virtues, and reform his ratal Errors. Re-enter Charles, ivith a Writing. Doff. That would be indeed a Blefling. Sit John. If Heaven fhould at laft reclaim him, the Power to right him ftill is your's; in you, I know, he yet would find a fond, forgiving Father. Vol. II. Uu Doff. 330 The Nonjuror. T>oB. The Imagination of fo bleft an Hour foftens me to a Tendernefs I can't fupport. Sir John. O the dear, good Man ! come, come, let's in to exe- cute this Deed. Doci. Will you then force me to accept this Truft ? For, call it what you will, with me it fhall never be more than fuch. Sir John. Let that depend upon the Conduct of my Son. Voch Well, Sir, fince yet it may prevent his Ruin, I confent. So fzveet a Hope muji all my Fears controul, 1 take the Truft, as Guardian to his Soul. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Maria and Charles. Mar. IPIf O U were a Witnefs, then ? m^M Charles. I Taw it fign'd, ieal'd, ffl and delivered, Madam. JViar. And all pafs'd without the leaft Sufpicion ? Charles. Sir John fign'd it with fuch Earneftnefs, and the Doc- tor receiv'd it with fuch a feeming Reluctance, that neither had the Curiofky to examine a Line of it. Mar. Well, Mr. Charles, whether it fucceeds to our Ends, or not, we have ftill the fame Obligations to you : You faw with what a Friendly Warmth my Brother heard your Story ; and I don't in the leaft doubt his Succefs in your Affair at Court. Charles. What I have done, my Duty bound me to : But pray, Madam, give me leave, without Offence, to ask you one inno- cent Queftion. Mar. Freely, Sir. Charles. Have you never mfpeclied then, that in all this Affair, I have had fome fecret, ftronger Motive to it, than barely Duty ? Mar. Yes But have you been in no Apprehenfions I fhould difcover that Motive ? [Gravely. Charles. The Non-Juror. 331 Charles. Pray pardon me, I fee already I have gone too far. Mar. Not at all, it lofes you no Merit with me, nor is it in my Nature to ufe any one ill, that loves me, unlefs I lov'd that one again; their indeed there might be Danger Come, don't look grave, my Inclinations to another fhall not hinder me pay- ing every one what's due to their Merit; I fhall therefore always think myfelr oblig'd to treat your Misfortunes and your Modefty with the utmoft Tendernefs. Charles. By the dear fort Eafe vou have given my Heart, I ne- ver hoped for more. Mar. Then I'll give you a great deal more ; and to fhew my particular good Opinion oi you, I'll do you a Favour, Mr. Charles, I never did any Man fince I was born — I'll be fincere with you. Charles. Is it then poflible you can have lov'd another, to whom you never were fincere ? Mar. Alas ! you are but a Novice in the Paflion Sincerity is a dangerous Virtue, and often furfeits what it ought to nourifh ; therefore I take more pains to make the Man I love believe I flight him, than (if poilible) I would to conviace you of my Eileem and Friendfhip. Charles. Be but fincere in that, Madam, and I can't complain. Mar. Nay, I'll give you a Proof of it ; I'll fhew you all the Good-nature you can defire ; you fhall make what Love to me you pleafe now ; but then I'll tell you the Confequence : I fhall certainly be pleas'd with it, and that will flatter vou, till I do you a Mifchief. Now do you think me fincere ? Charles. I fcarce confider that ; but I'm fure you are agreeable. M-->r. Why look you there now! Do you confider that a Woman had as live be thought agreeable as handfome ? And how can you fuppofe, from one of your Senfe, that I am not pleas'd with being told fo ? Charles. Was ever Temper (o enchanting ? Mar. Or Vanity more venial! I'm pleas'd with you. [Smiling. Charles. Diffracting ! fure never was Defpair adminiftred with a Hand (o gentle. U u z Mar. 33- The No n-JuFvOR. Mar. So ! Now you have convinc'd me, I have a good Under- flanding too ? Why I fhall certainly have the better Opinion of your's, for finding it out now. Charles. Your good Opinion's what I aim at. Mir. Ay ; but the more I give it you, the better you'll think of me Ml ; and then 1 mud think the better of you again ; and then you the better of me upon that too : and fo at laft I (hail think ferioutly, and you'll begin to think ill of me. But I hope, Mr. Charles, your good Senfe will prevent all this. Charles. I fee my Folly now, and bluffi at my Prefumption : but yet to cure my weaning Heart, and reconcile me to my Doom, be yet fincere, and fatisfy one fickly Longing of my Soul. JMar. To my power, command me. Charles. O ! tell me then the Requifites I want, and what's the fecret Charm that has preferr'd my Rival to your Heart. oZMar. Come then, be chearful, and I'll anfwer like a Friend : The Gentlenefs and Modefty of your Temper would make with mine but an unequal Mixture : with you I fhouid be ungovern- able, not know myfelf; your Compliance would undo me : I am by nature vain, thoughtlefs, wild, and wilful ; therefore ask a higher Spirit to controul and lead me. For whatever outward Airs I give myfelf, I am within convinc'd, a Woman makes a ve- ry wrong Figure in Happinefs, that does not think Superiority bed becomes her Husband But what's yet more, though I confefs you have Qualities uncommon in your Sex, and fuch as ought to warm a Heart to love ; yet here you come too late ; Companion's all within my power : and I know you cannot but have feen, I am under Obligations I need not explain to you. Charles. I am fatisfied You treat me with f o kind and gen- tle a Concern, that I muit fubmit to it. Mar. [^part] Well, when all's done, he's a pretty Fellow j and the firft fiire that ever heard Reafon againft himfelf with fo good an Understanding. Enter a Servant with a Letter to Charles. Serv. Sir, the Colonel order'd me to give this into your own Hands. Mar. The Non-Juror. 555 Mar. From my Brother Where is he ? Serv. I left him, Madam, at the Secretary s-Office, with one Sir Charles Trueman and Mr. Heartley. [Exit Serv. Charles. Ha ! my Father ! O Heaven ! 'tis his Hand too ! Now I tremble. cpkfar. Come, Sir, take heart ; I dare fay there's good news in't, and I fhould be glad to hear it ^But no Ceremony; pray read to yourfelf firft. Charles. Since you command me, Madam. [Reads to himself. Mar. [Apart] Lord, how one may live and learn ! I could not have believ'd, that Modefty in a young Fellow could have been To amiable a Virtue : And though, I own, there is I know not what of dear Delight in indulging one's Vanity with them ; yet, upon ferious Reflection, we muft confefs, that Truth and "Sincerity have a thoufand Charms beyond it. And I now find more Pleafure in my felf-denying Endeavours to make this poor Creature eafy, than ever I took in humbling the Airs and Ailii- ranee of a Man of Quality 1 believe 1 had as good confefs all this to Heartley, and even make up the Buftle with him too But then he will lb teaze one for Inftances of real Inclination O Ged 1 can't bear the Thought on't And yet we muft come together too Well! Nature knows the way to be lure, and lb I'll even truft to her for't — Blefs me! what's the matter ?. You feem concern'd, Sir. [To Charles, wiping his Tears. Charles. I am indeed, but 'tis with Joy : O, Madam ! my Fa- ther's reconcil'd to me : this Letter is from him... Mar. Pray let's hear. Charles. [Reading."] Dear Charles, This Day, by Colonel Woodvil, 1 receivd the joyful News of your being yet alive and well, though that's but half my Comfort : He has ajjured me too, you have renouncd thofe Principles that made me think your Death my Happinefs. The Services you have intended his Family, and may do the Government, in your juf De- tection of a Tray tor that would ruin both, have been fo zvell re- ceived at Court, and fo generoufly represented there by the Colonel and Mr. Heartley, that tfjey have obtain d an Order for your Par- don ; 334 The Non. Juror. don ; which J now pay the paffing of, before I throw my Arms about you, that I may leave no Doubt or Fear behind, to interrupt the Ful- "mfs of my Joy. J am inform d, that in revealing yourfelf to a cer- tain fair Lady, you have let fa/1 fome Words, that few you have an innocent y tho hopelefs Pafjion for her. Tour Touth excufes what is pap , bvit now confider how far you owe your Life to Air. Heartley : J therefore charge you, on my Bleffmg, to give up every idle 'Thought of Love, that may interrupt his Happinej's, or abate the Merit of what youve done to dejerve the Pardon of your Sovereign, or of your Affectionate forgiving Father, Charles Trueman. Mcr. I am overjoy'd at your good Fortune. Charles. You, Madam, are the Source of all but I am now unfit to thank you. [Weeps. Mar. You owe me nothing, Sir; Succefs was all I hoped for. Charles. Pray excufe me It would be Rudenefs to trouble vou with the tender Thoughts this mull "ive a Heart obli^d like r r- ■ I 1 mine. \_Extt Charles. Mar. Poor Creature ! how full his honeft Heart is ? What early Viciilitudes of Fortune has he run through ? Well ! this .was handfomly done of Heartley, confidering what he had felt upon his Account, to be fo concern'd for his Pardon. Enter Lady Woodvil. Lady W. Dear Maria, what will become of us ? The Tyranny of this fubtle Prieft is infupportable : He has fo fortified himfelf in Sir Johns Opinion by this lafl Mifconducl of your Brother, that I begin to loie my ufual Power with him. Mar. Pray explain, Madam. Lady W. In fpight of all I could urge, he is this minute bring- ing the Doctor to make his AddrelTes to you. ^Mar. I am glad ont: for the Beaft muff come like a Bear to the Stake, I'm fure ; he knows I fhall bait him. LadyVJ. No, no, he prefles it, to keep Sir John ftill blind to his wicked Defign upon me- Therefore I came to give you notice, that you might be prepar'd to receive him. (SMar. I am oblig'd to your Lady (hip : Our Meeting will be a tenner Scene, no doubt on't. Lady The Non-Juror. 33^ Lady W. You have heard, I fuppofe, what an extravagant Set- tlement your Father has fign'd to. oJVLar. Yes, Madam ; but I am glad your Ladyfhip's like to be a Gainer by it, however : For when 1 marry, it will be without the Doctor's Content, depend upon't. Lady W. No, Child, I did not come into Six Johns Family with a defign to injure it, or make any one of it my Enemy : When- ever that Four Thoufand Pound falls into my hands, you'll find it as firmly yours, as if it had been given you, without that odious Condition. Alar. Madam, I think myfelf as much oblig'd by this kind In- tention, as the Performance : But if your Ladyfhip could yet find a way to prove this Hypocrite a private Villain to my Father, I am not without hopes the Publick will foon have enough againft him, to give a Turn to the Settlement. Lady W. But fuppofe that fails, what will become of your poor Brother ? Mar. But, dear Madam, I cannot fuppofe this Fellow muft not be hang'd at laft ; and then, you know, the fame honeft Hand that ties him up, releafes the Settlement. Lady W. Not abfolutely, neither ; for this very Houfe is ^iven him in prefent, which, tho that were to be the End of him, would then be lorfeked. Mar. Why, then my Brother muft e'en petition the Govern- ment. There have been Precedents of the fame Favour, Madam. If not, he muft pay for his Blundering, and lay his next Plot deeper, I think. Lady W. I am glad you are (o chearful upon it, however ; it looks as if you had fomething in Petto to depend upon. But here - comes the Doctor. Enter Sir John with the Doctor. Sir John. Daughter, fince you have the Happinefs to be thought amiable in the Eye or this Good Man, I expect you give him an inftant Opportunity to improve it into an Amity for Life. Mar. I hope, Sir r I fhall give him no Occafion to alter his Opi- nion of me. Sir 33$ The Non-Juror. Sit John. Why, that's well iaid : come, Sweet-heart, we'll life no Ceremony. [Exit Sir John with Lady W. Maria and the Doctor ft and fome time mute, in formal Civi- lities, and a confeious Contempt of each other. Mar. Pleafe to fit, Sir. What can -the ugly Cur fay to. me ? He feems a little puzzled. This puts .me in mind of the tender Interview between Lady Charlotte and Lord Hardy in the Fu- neral. [Afidt. DoB. Look you, fair Lady, not to make many Words, I am convine'd, notwithstanding your good Father's Favour, I am not the Perfon you defire to be alone with, upon this Occafion. Mar. Your Modefty is pleas'd to be in the right, Sir. DoB. Humh ! if I don't flatter myfelfj you have always had a very ill Opinion or me. Mar. A worfe, Sir, oi no Mortal breathing, DoB. Humh ! and it is likely, it may be immoveable. otMar. No Rock fo firm. Doff. Humh ! from thefe Premifes then, I may reafonably conclude vou hate me heartily. Mar. Moft lincerely, Sir. DoB. Well ! there is, however, fome Merit in fpeaking Truth ; therefore to be as juft on my fide, I ought in Confcience to let vou know, that I have as cordial a Contempt for you too. Mar. O ! fy ! you flatter me. [AJfeBing a Blufh. DoB. Indeed I don't ; you wrong your own Imperfections to think fo. opkfar. Thefe Words from any Tongue but yours, might fhock me ; but coming from the only Man I hate they charm me. DoB. Admirable ! there feems good Senfe in this : Have you never obferv'd, Madam, that fbmetimes the greatelt Difcords raife the moft agreeable Harmony ? Mar. Yes. But what do you infer from thence ? DoB. That while we ftill preferve this Temper in our Hate, a mutual Benefit may rife from it. Mar. O ! never fear me, Sir ; I fhall not fly out : being con- vine'd, that nothing gives (o fharp a Point to one's Averfion, as good Breeding ; as, on the contrary, ill Manners often hide a fecret Inclination. . DoB. The Non-Juror. 337 Doff. Moft accurately diftinguiflwl Well, Madam, is there no Project you can think of now, to turn this mutual Averfion, as I (aid, into a mutual Benefit ? ' Alar. None, that I know of, unlefs we were to marry for our mutual Mortification. Doff. What would you give then, to avoid marrying me ? Mar. My Life, with Joy, if Death alone could fhun you. Doff. When you marry any ether Perfon my Confent is necelTary. otMar. So I hear indeed But pray, Doctor, tell me, how could your Modefty receive fo infolent a Power, without putting my poor Father out of countenance with your Blufhes ? Doff. You over-rate my Prudence : I fought it not, but he would crowd it in among other Obligations : He is good-natur'd, and I could not fhock him by a Refufal. Wou'd you have had me plainly told him what a defpicable Opinion I had of his Daughter ? Mar. Or rather what a favourable one you had of his Wife, Sir? Doff. Humph ! You feem to lofe your Temper. oTkfar. Why, do you fuppoie the whole Family does not fee it, except my Father ? Doff, u you will keep your Temper, I have fomething to pro- pofe to you. ofMar. Your Reproof is juft ; but I only rais'd my Voice, to let you know I know you. Doff. You might have fpar'd your Pains, it being of no confe- quence to my Propofal, what you think of me. Mar. Not unlikely. Come, Sir, I am ready to receive it. Doff. In one Word then I take it for granted, that you would marry Mr. He art ley Am I right ? Mar. Once in your Life you are. Doff. Nay, no Compliments ; let us be plain Would you marry him? Mar. You are mighty nice, methinks — Well — I would. Doff. Then I won't confent to it Now, if you have any Propofal to make me So — If not, our Amour's at an end; Vol. II. X x and 538 The Non-Juror. and we part as civil Enemies, as if we had been married this Twelvemonth Think of it. Mar. [j4fide.~\ O the mercenary Villain \ he wants to have a Fellow-feeling, I find — What (hall I do with him Bite him — Pretend to comply, and make my Advantage of it Well, Sir, I underftand every thing but the Sum If we agree upon that, it's a Bargain. DoB. Half Mar. What, two thoufand Pound for your Confent only ? Dott. Why is not two thoufand Pound worth two thoufand Pound I Don't you actually get fo much by it ? Is not the half better than nothing ? Come, come, fay I have us'd you like a Friend. opldar. Nay, I think it's the only civil thing you have done, mice you came into the Family. Dott. Do you then make your Advantage of it. Mar. Why, as you fay, DoBor, 'tis better than nothing : But how is my Father to be brought into this? Doff. Leave that to my Management. Mar. What Security though, do you expect for this Money ? ~DoB. O ! when I deliver my Confent in Writing, Heartley fliall lay it me down in Bank-¥>Ah. O R, The Ladies Philofophy , A COMEDY. A&ed at the Theatre-Royal B Y His MAJESTY'S SERVANTS. Amor omnibus idem. ViRG, 55SoOKix^oJ^ ;•«•;(* ***•; (3*7 ) PROLOGUE. ALL ANT S ! behold before your Eyes the Wight, Whofe Actions fland accountable To- night, For all your Dividends of Profit or Delight. Nezv Plays refemble Bubbles, we mufi oun ; But their intrinfick Value foon is known : There's no impofing Pleasure on a Town. And when they fail, count der his Pains and Trouble, His Doubts, his Fears, the Poet is the Bubble. As Heroes by the Tragtck Mufe are Jung j So to the Comtek, Knaves and Fools belong : Follies, To-night, of various kinds we paint, One, in a Female Philofophick Saint, That woud by Learning Natures Laws repeal, Warm all her Sex's Bojoms to rebel, ■ And only, with Platonick Raptures, fzvell. Long [he refifis the proper Vfe of Beauts, But Flefh and Blood reduce the Dame to Duty. A Coxcomb too of modern Stamp we Jhozo, A Wit — but impudent — a South-Sea Beau. Nay more cur Mufes Fire {but pray protect her) Roafts, to your Tafte, a whole South-Sea Director. But let none think we bring him here in Jptte, For all their Actions, Jure, will bear the Light ; Be fides, hes painted here in Height of Power Long eer we laid fuch Ruin at his Door i . When 368 Prologue. When he was Leveed, like a Statesman, by the Town, And thought his heap'd up Millions all his own. jVo, no j Stocks always at a Thoufand here, Hell almoft honefi on the Stage appear. Such is our Fare, to feed the Mind our Aim, But Poets /land, like Warriors, in their Fame ; One ill Day s Work brings all their pa ft to Shame. 'Thus having tafied of your former Favour, The Chance feems now for deeper Stakes than ever. As, after Runs of Luck, were more accurfl, To lofe our Winnings, than have loft at fir ft ; A fir ft Stake loft has often fav d from Ruin, But on one Caft to lofe the Tout — is hard Undoing. But be it as it ma) the Dye is thrown, Fear now were Folly Pafs the Rubicon. EPILOGUE. HE Time is come the Roman Bard foretold, A brazen Tear fucceeds an Age of Cold ; An Age When jpecious Books were opend for undoing, And Englifh Hands, in Crouds, fubfcrib'd their Ruin. Some Months ago, who ever could fuppofe, qA Goofequill Race of Rulers Jhoidd have rofe, T'have made the Warlike Britons groan beneath their Blows. Evils, that never yet beheld the Sun, ) To foreign aArms, or Civil Jars, unknown, r Thefe trembling Mifcreants, by their Wiles, have done. J Thus Epi logue, 365? 'Thus the fierce Lion, whom no Force could folly By Village-Curs is baited in the Toil. Forgive the Mufe then, if her Scenes were laid Before your fair Pojjeffions were betray d ; She took the flitting Form, as Fame then ran, While a Director J'eemd an hone ft Man : But were [be from his prefent Form to take him, What a huge Gorging Monftcr muft fhe make him ? How would his Paunch with Golden Ruin fwell ? Whole Families devouring at a Meal ? What motley Humour in a Scene might flow, Were we thefe Vpftarts in their Airs to fhow ? When their high Betters, at their Gates have waited, And all to beg the Favour, to be Cheated ; Even that Favour (or they're by Fame belyd) To raife the Value of the Cheat, denyd. And zvhile Sir John was airing on his Prancers, He as left his Cookmaid, to give Peers their Anfwers. Then Clerks in Berlins, purchasd by their Cheats, That fpla/h their walking Betters in the Streets', And vjhile, by Fraud, their native Country s fold, Cry, Drive you Dog, and give your Horfes Gold : Even Jews no Bounds of Luxury refrain, But boil their Chriflian Hams in pure Champaign. Till then the Gu'lty, that have causd thefe Times, Feel a fuperior Cenfure for their Crimes; Let all, zvhofe Wrongs the Face of Mirth can bear, Enjoy the Mufes Vengeance on them here. VOL.JII. Bbb Dra- Dramatis Perfonce t MEN. Sir Gilbert Wrangle. Mr.PenkethmarL Granger. Mr. Booth. Frankley. Mr. Wilks. Witling. Mi". Cibber. WOMEN. Lady Wrangle. Mrs. BichaeU* Sophronia. ' Mrs. OldfieU Charlotte. Mrs. Booth. Servants, £tfc. ( ni ) THE REFUSAL^ O R, The Ladies Pbilofophy. ACT. I. //77». 7fo SCENE, Wertminfter-Hall. Frankley and Granger meeting. S it poilible ! Gran. Frankly ! Fran. Dear Granger ! I did not expect you thefe ten days : how came you co be 10 much better than your Word ? Gran. Why, to tell you the Truth, be- caufe I began to think London better thaft Paris. Fran. That's ftrange : But you never think like other People. B b b 1 Gran. 372. The Refusal; or, Gran. I am more apt to fpeak what I think, than other Peo- ple : Though, I confefs, Paris has its Charms ; but to me they are like thofe of a Coquette, gay and gawdy ; they ferve to amufe with, but a Man would not chufe to be marry 'd to them. In fhort, I am to pafs my Days in Old England, and am therefore refolv'd not to have an ill Opinion of it. Fran. Thefe fettled Thoughts, Ned, make me hope, that if ever you fhould marry, you will be as partial to the Woman, you in- tend to pafs your Days with. Gran. Faith ! I think every Man's a Fool that is not : But it's very odd ; you fee, the grolfeil Fools have generally Senfe enough to be fond of a fine Houfe, or a good Horfe, when they have bought them : They can fee the Value of them, at leaft ; and why a poor Wife fhould not have as fair play for one's Inclina- tion, I can fee no Reafon, but downright Ill-nature or Stupidity. Fran. What do you think of Avarice ? when People purchafe Wives, as they do other Goods, only becaufe they are a Penny- worth : Then too a Woman has a fine time on't ! Gran. Ay, but that will never be the Cafe of my Wife : When I marry, I'll do it with the fame convenient Views as a Man would fet up his Coach, becaufe his Eftate will bear it, it's eafy, and keeps him out of dirty Company. Fran. But what ! would you nave a Wife have no more Charms than a Chariot ? Gran. Ah ! Friend, if I can but pafs as many eafy Hours at home with one, as abroad in t'other, I will take my chance, for her Works of Supererogation ; and I believe at worft, fhould be upon a Par with the Happinefs of moft Husbands about Town. Fran. But, at this rate, you would marry before you are in love. Gran. Why not ? Do you think Happinefs is entail'd upon mar- rying the Woman you love ? No more than Reward is upon pub- lick Merit : it may give you a Title to it indeed j but you mull depend upon other People's Virtue to find your Account in ei- ther. For my part, I am not for building Caftles in the Air ; when I marry, I expedt no great matters j none of your Angels, a mortal Woman will do my Bufinefs, as you'll find, when I tell you The Ladies Philosophy. 373 you my Choice. All I defire of a Wife, is, that fhe will do as Hie is bid, and keep herfelf clean. Fran. Would you not have her a Companion tho', as well as a Bedfellow ? Gran. You mean, I fuppofe, a Woman of Senfe ? Fran. I iliould not think it amifs for a Man of Senfe. Gran. Nor I; but 'Sdeath where (hall I get her? In fhort, I am tired with the Search, and will ev'n take up with one, as Nature has made her, handfome, and only a Fool of her own making. Fran. Was ever Co defperate an Indifference ? I am impatient. till I know her. Gran. Even the fage and haughty Prude, Sophronia. Fran. Sophronia ! I hope you don't take her for a Fool, Sir ; why, fhe thinks fhe has more Senfe than all her Sex together. Gran. You don't tell me that as a Proof of her Wit, I prefume Sir. Fran. No : but I think your Humour's a little extraordinary, that can refolve to marry the Woman you laugh at. Gran. It's, at leaft, a fign I am in no great danger of her laughing at me, Tom ; the Cafe of many a prettier Fellow. But I take Sophronia to be only a Fool of Parts, that's however capa- ble of thinking right ; and a Man muft be nice indeed, that turns up his Nofe at a Woman, who has no worfe Imperfection, than fetting too great a Value upon her Underftanding. I grant it, fhe is half mad with her Learning and Philofophy : What then ? fo are moft of our Great Men, when they get a little too much on't. Nay, fhe is fb rapt in the Pride of her imaginary Know- ledge, that fhe almoft forgets fhe is a Woman, and thinks all Of- fers of Love to her Perfon a Difhonour to the Dignity of her Soul ; but all this does not difcourage me: She may fancy herfelf as wife as fhe pleafes ; but unlefs I fail in my Meaflires, I fhall think I have hard luck, if I don't make that fine Flefh and Blood of hers, as troublefome as my own in a Fortnight. Fran. You muft have better luck than I had then ! I was her Fool for above five Months together, and did not come ill recom- mended to the Family ; but could make no more Imprefllon than m upon 374 The Refusal; or, >n a Veftal Virgin : And how a Man, of your cool Reflection can think of attempting her, I have no Notion. Gran. Pfhah ! I laugh at all her Airs ; a Woman of a general Infenfibility, is only one that has never been rightly attack'd. Fran. Are you then really refolv'd to purfue her ? Gran. Why not ? Is not fhe a fine Creature ? Has not fhe Parts ? Would not half her Knowledge, equally divided, make fifty Coquettes all Women of Senfe ? Is not her Beauty natural, her Perfon lovely, her Mein majeftick Then fuch a Confti- tution Fran. Nay, fhe has a wholefome Look, 1 grant you : But then her Prudery, and Platonick Principles, are infupportable. Gran. Now to me they are more diverting, than all the Levity of a Coquette : O ! the noble Confliifts between Nature and a proud Underftanding, make our Triumphs fo infinitely above thofe petty Conquefts — Belldes, are not you Philofopher enough to know, my Friend, that a Body continent holds moll of the thing contain'd ? Tis not your waiting Currents, but Refervoirs, that make the Fountain play ; not the Prodigal's, but the Mifer's Cheft, that holds the Treafure : No, no, take my word, your Prude has thrice the latent Fire of a Coquette. Your Prude's a Flask hermeti- cally feal'd, all's right within, depend upon't ; but your Coquette's a mere Bottle of Plague-water, that's open to every body. Fran. Well,- Sir, fince you feem fo heartily in earned, and, I fee, are not to be difguited at a little Female Frailty ; I think I ougrht in Honour to let you into a little more of her : You muft know then, this marble-hearted Lady, who could not bear my Ad- drefTes to herfelf, has notwithstanding Flefh and Blood enough to be ten times more uneafy, that I now pay them to her Sifter. Gran. I am glad to hear it : Prithee ! let me know all ; for 'tis upon thefe fort of WeaknelTes, that I am to flrengthen my Hopes. Fran. You know I writ you word, that I thought the fafeft way to cover my real Pafiion for her Sifter Charlotte, would be, to drop my cold Pretenfions to Sophronia, infeniibly ; upon which account I rather heighten'd my Reipedt. to her : But as, you know, 'tis harder to difguife a real Inclination, than to diilemble one we have not ; Sopbronia, it feems, has fo far firfjpected the Cheat, that, The Ladies Philofophy. 379 that, fince your Abfence, fhe has broke into a thoufand little Im- patiences at my new Happinefs with Charlotte. Gran. Good. Fran. But the Jefl is, fhe can't yet bring down her Vanity to believe, I am in earneft with Charlotte neither ; but really fancies my AddreiTes, there, are all Grimace, the mere Malice or a rejec- ted Lover, to give her Scorn a Jealoufy. Gran. Admirable ! but I hope you are fure of this. Fran. 'Twas but yefterday fhe gave me a Proof of it. Gran. Pray, let's hear. Fran. Why, as Charlotte and I were whifpering at one end of a Room, while we thought her wrapt up in one of Horaces Odes at the other, of a fiidden, I obferv'd her come failing up to me, with an infulting Smile, as who fhould fay — I laugh at all thefe fhallow Arts — then turn'd fhort, and, looking over her Shoulder, cry'd aloud -Ah ! Mtfer ! Quanta labor as in Charybdi ? Grang. Digne Puer meliore Flamma — Ah ! methinks, I fee the imperious Huffy, in Profile, waving her fnowy Neck into a thou- fand lovely Attitudes of Scorn and Triumph ! O the dear Vanity ! Well, when all's faid, the Coxcomb's vaftly handfome ! Fran. I'gad ! thou art the oddeft Fellow in the World ! to be thus capable of diverting yourielf with your Miftrefs's Jealoufy or another Man. Gran. Pfhah ! Thou'rt too refm'd a Lover ; I am glad o^ any Occafion that proves her more a Woman, than fhe imagines. Fran. But pray, Sir, upon what foot did you ftand with her be- fore you went to France ? Gran. O ! I never pretended to more, than a Flatonick Paflion ; I faw, at firft View, fhe Avas inacceffible by Love. FrcW. Yet fince you were refolv'd to purfue her, how came you to think of rambling to Paris ? Gran. Why, the lafl time I faw her, fhe grew fb fantaflically jealous of my regarding her more, as a Woman, than an intellec- tual Being, that my Patience was half tir'd ; and having, at that time, an Appointment, with fome idle Company, to make a Trip to Paris, 1 ilily took that Occafion, and told her, if I threw my- ; felf 376 The Refusal; or, felf into a voluntary Banifhment from her Perfon, I hoped flie would then be convinc'd, I had no other Views of Happinefs, than what her Letters might, ev'n in Abfence, as well gratify, from the Charms of her Underftanding. Fran. Moll; folemnly impudent ! Gran. In fhort, her Vanity was fo blind to the Banter, that fhe infifted upon my going, and made me conditional Promifes of anfwering all my Letters j in which I have flatter'd her romantick Folly to that degree, that, in her laft, fhe confefles an entire Satis- faction in the Innocent Dignity of my Inclinations (as fhe ftiles it) and therefore thinks herfelf bound, in Gratitude, to recall me from Exile : which gracious Boon (being heartily tired at Paris) I am now arriy'd to accept of Fran. The merrieft Amour that ever was ! Well ! and why don't you villc her ? Gran. O ! I do all things by Rule not till fhe has din'd j for our Great Englifi Philofopher, my Lord Bacon, tells you, that then the Mind is generally moft ductile. Fran. Wifely confider'd. Gran. Befides, I want to have a little Talk firfl with the old Gentleman her Father. Fran. Sir Gilbert ! If I don't miftake, yonder he comes- Gran. Where, prithee ? Fran. There, by the Bookfellers ; don't you fee him, with an odd Crowd after him. Gran. O ! now I have him he's loaded with Papers like a Sollicitor. Fran. Sir, he is at this time a Man of the firft Confequence, and receives more Petitions every Hour, than the Court of Chan- cery in a whole Term. Gran. What ! Is he Lord Treafurer ? Fran. A much more confiderable Perfon, I can afl'ure you ; he is a South-Sea Director, Sir. Gran. O ! I cry your mercy ! and thofe about him, I prefume, are bowing for Subfcriptions. Fran. That's their Bufinefs, you may be fure ', but fee, at laft, he has broke from them. Gran. The Ladies Philosophy. 377 Gran. No ! there's one has got him by the Sleeve again. Fran. What if we fliould (land off, and obferve a little. Gran. With all my Heart. Sir Glib. [To a Man at the Door.] Prithee be quiet, Fellow ! I tell you I'll fend the Duke an Anfwer to-morrow Morning. Within.] It's very well, Sir — Sir Gilbert fpeaks entering, with a great Parcel of of en Letters in his Hand, and others fluffing his Pockets. Sir Gilb. Very well ! ay, fo it is, if he gets it then Why ? what ! thefe People of Quality, fure, think they do you a Favour? when they ask one Huh ! let him come for it himfelf ! I am fure I was forc'd to do fo, at his Houfe, when I came for my own, and could not get it neither and he expects I fhould give him 2000 I. only for fending a Footman to me. Why ? what ! Does his Grace think I don't know which fide my Bread's butter'd on ? Let's fee ! who are thefe from ?— [Reads to himfelf. Gran. The old Gentleman's no blind Admirer of a Man of Quality, I iee. Fran. O ! Sir, he has lately taken up a mortal Averfion to any Man that has a better Title than himfelf Gran. How fo, pray ? Fran. As he grows rich, he grows proud ; and, among Friends, had lately a mind to be made a Lord himfelf: but applying to the wrong Perfon, it feems, he was difappointed ; and ever fince piques himfelf upon defpifing any Nobleman, who is not as rich as himfelf." Gran. Hah ! the right Plebeian Spirit of Old-England : But I think he's counted an honeft Man. Fran. Umh ! yes ! well enough a good fort of a mercantile Conkience ; he is punctual in Bargains, and expects the fame from others ; he will neither fteal, nor cheat, unlefs he thinks he has the Protection of the Law : then indeed, as molt thriving Men do, he thinks Honour and Equity are chimerical Notions. Gran. That is, he bluntly profeiies what other People practife with more Breeding But let's accofl him. Gran. Stay a little. Vol. II. Ccc Sir 378 The Refusal ; or, Sir Glib. To me, Friend ! [Enter a Footman, with a Letter. What will they never have done I Footm. Sir, my Lady Double-Chin prefents her Service, and {ays fhe'll call for your Honour's Anfwer to-morrow morning. Sir Glib. Very well \ tell my Lady I'll take care to [Exit Footman. Be exactly out of the way when fhe comes. Gran. Hah ! he'll keep that part of his word, I warrant him. Sir Gilb. Let's fee ! the old Story, I fuppofe [Reads.] Um< — • \Jm yes, yes only Two Thoufand Huh ! Does the Woman take me for a Fool ? Does fhe think I don't know that a Two Thoufand Subfcnption is worth Two Thoufand Guineas ; and becaufe fhe is not worth above Fourfcore Thoufand already, fhe would have me give them to her for nothing To a poor Re- lation, fhe pretends indeed, as if fhe loved any body better than herfelf ! A Drum ! and a Fiddle ! I'll greafe none of your fat Sows, not I no, no, get you into the negative Pocket Blefs my Eyes ! Mv Granger. Gran. Sir Gilbert, I am your moft humble Servant. Sir Gilb. In troth, I am glad to fee you in England again . Mr. Frankly, your humble Servant. Fran. Sir, your moft obedient. Sir Gilb. Well, how goes Mijfi/sppi, Man ? What ! do they bring their Money by Waggon-Loads to Market ftill ? Hay ! Hah ! hah ? hah ! Gran. O ! all gone, good for nothing, Sir, your South-Sea has brought it to wafte Paper. Sir Gilb. Why, ay, han't we done glorious things here ? ha ! we have found Work for the Coachmakers as well as they, Boy. Gran. Ah, Sir, in a little time we fhall reduce thofe, who kept them there, to their Original of riding behind them here. Sir Gilb. Hull ! huh ! you will have your Joke ftill, I fee Well ! you have not fold out, I hope. Gran. Not I, faith, Sir ; the old Five Thoufand lies {hug as it was : I don't fee where one can move it, and mend it \ (b even let it lie, and breed by itfelf. Sir The "Ladies Philofophy. 379 Sir Glib. You're right you're right — hark you — keep it — ■ the thing will do more ftill, Boy. Gran. Sir, I am fine it's in hands, that can make it do any thing. Sir Gilb. Have you got any new Subscription ? Gran. You know, Sir, I have been abfcnt, and it's really now grown 10 valuable a Favour, I have not the Confidence to ask it, Sir Gilb. PlHah ! prithee never talk of that, Man Gran. If I thought you were not full, Sir Sir Gilb. Why, if I were as full as a Bumper, Sir, I'll put my Friends in, let who will run over for't. Fran. Sir Gilbert always doubles his Favours, by his manner or doing them. Sir Gilb. Frankly, you are down for 5000 /. already, and you may depend upon every Shilling of it let me fee, what have I done with my Lift ? Granger has a good Eftate, and had an eye upon my el deft Daughter before he went to France ; I muft have him in, it may chance to brins; the matter to bear. \_Afide. Gran. Where did you get all thefe Letters, Sir Gilbert ? SkGilb. Why, ay, this is the Trade every Morning, all for Sub* fcriptions : nay, they are fpecial Stuff -here, prithee, read that. Fran. Who is it from, Sir ? Sir Gilb. O ! a North-Briton, a bloody fquabbling Fellow, who owes me a Thoufand Pound for Difference, and that's his way of paying me : read it. Grang. [Reading^] Wuns, Sir, dee ye no tack me for a Man of Flonor ? yc need no fend to my Ludging fo often for year pimping Thoufand Pound : An ye 11 be but civil a bit, Ife order the Bearer, my Brocker, to mack up year Ballance : m if ye wull but gea year- fell the Trouble to put his Name intull year own Lift for a Thoufand Subscription, heje pay ye aw down upd the Nail : But an ye ivdno doe this fmaw Jul, the Deel dommee, an ye eerfe a Grotefrom me, as long as my JSlame is George Blunderbufs. C c c 1 Frank. 38o The Refusal; or, Fran. What can you do with fuch a Fellow, Sir ? Sir Cilb. Do with him ! why, I'll let him have it, and get my Money : I had better do that, than be obliged to fight fort, or give it the Lawyers. Fran. Nay, that's true too. Sir Gilb. Here's another now, from one of my Wife's hopeful Relations, an extravagant Puppy, that has rattled a gilt Chariot to pieces before it was paid tor — but he'll die in Jail. Fran. [Reading.'] Dear Knight. I fee he's familiar. Sir Gilb. Nay, it's all of a piece, Fran. Not to mince the matter ; yefterday, at Marybone, they had me all Bob as a Robin : In fhort, being out of my Money, I was forced to come the Caper, and tumbled for Five hundred dead : Be- sides which, I owe Crop the Fender a Brace, and if I have a fingle Simon to fay him, rot me : But the queer Coll promifes to advance me t'other three, and bring me home, provided you will let him fneak into your Li /I for a cool c Fhoufand. Tou know it's a Debt of Honour in me, and will c oft you nothing. Tours in hafte, Robert Rattle. Fran. The Style is extraordinary. Gran. And his Motives irrefiftible. Sir Gilb. Nay, I have them from all Nations, here's one now from an Irifh Relation of my own. Fran. O ! pray let's fee. Sir Gilb. There, [Frankly reads. Loving Coufin, and my dear Life, Flo ere is only my Brother Patrick, and tat is two of us : And be- cause we would have a graate Refpeff for our Relations, we are come pofht from Tipperary, with a loving Deflgn to put both our Families upon one anoder. And though we have no Acquaintance with your braave Daughters, zve Jaw them yefierday at the Cathedral-Church, and find they vil farave us vel enough. And to pew our fhincere Affections, we vil taake dem vidout never a Feny of Money ; only as The Ladies Philofophy. 38 1 as a fmaal Token of Shivility upon your Side, zee defeer the Faavour of both of us each Ten Toufand in dis faame new Subscription : And becauje in our hafle fome of our Cloaths and Bills of Exchange were forgot, pridee be fograateful as to fend us two Score Pounds, to put us into fome Worfhtp for the mean time. So dis was all from, my dear Life, Tour humble Sarvant, And loving Relation, Owen Mac-Ogle. Fran. A very modefl Epiftle, truly ! Sir Gilb. O! here's my Lift now Mr. Granger we'll fee what we can do for you hold ! here are fome People that have no Bufinefs here, I am fare — ay, here ! here's Dr. Bullanbear . — One Thoufand why ay 1 was forced to put him down to get rid of him. The Man has no Confcience : Don't I know he is in every Court-Lift under a fham Name indeed, Domine Doctor, you can't be here. [Scratches him out. Then here's another Favourite of my Wife's too Signior Caponi da Capo Two Thoufand What ! becaufe he can get as much tor a Song, does he think to have it for whiftling too — Huh ! huh ! huh ! not I troth ! I am not for fending our Money into Popifh Countries. [Blots him. out. Fran. Rightly confider'd, Sir. Sir Gilb. Let's fee, whq's next Sir James Baker Knight, One Thoufand. Gran. Who's he, Sir ? Sir Gilb. O ! a very ingenious Perfon, he's well known at Court, he muft ftand j befides, I believe we fhall employ him in our Spanifh Trade O ! here we can fpare you one, I believe — Sir Jj'aac Bicker fl aff 'Knight, One Thoufand. Fran. What ! the fam'd Cenfor of Great Britain ? Sir Gilb. No, no ; he was a very honeft pleafant Fellow, this is only a Relation- a mere Whimfical, that will draw Nobo- dy's way but his own, and is always wifer than his Betters : I don't underftand that fait of Wifdom, that's for doing good to every body 382 The Refusal; or, body but himfelf ; let thofe lift him that like him, he (hall ride in no Troop or" mine, Odfheartlikins ! [Blots him. Gran. How he damns them with a Dafli, like a profcribing Triumvir ? Sir Glib. Let's fee, I would feign have another for you O! here ! William Penkethman One Thoufand. Hah ! a very pretty Fellow truly ; what ! give a Thoufand Pound to a Player why it's enough to turn his Brain ; we fhall have him grow proud, and quit the Stage upon it : No, no, keep him poor, and let him mind his Bufinefs ; if the Puppy leaves off playing the Fool, he's un- done. No, no, I won't hurt the Stage, my Wife loves Plays ; and whenever fhe's there, I am fure of three hours Quiet at home [Blots, &c] Lets fee ; one, three, four, five, ay, juft Frankly s Sum here's Five ' Thoufand for you, ' Mr. Granger, with a wet Finger. Gran. Sir, I ihall ever be in your Debt. Sir Gilb. Pooh ! you owe me nothing. Fran. You have the Happinefs of this Life, Sir Gilbert, the power of obliging all about you. Sir Gilb. O ! Mr. Frankly ! Money won't do every thing, I am uneafy at home for all this. Fran. Is that poflible, Sir, while you have fo fine a Lady ? Sir Gilb. Ay, ay, you are her Favourite, and have Learning enough to underftand her ; but fhe is too wife, and too will- ful for me. Fran. O ! Sir, Learning's a fine Accomplifhment in a fine Lady. Sir Gilb. Ay, it's no matter for that, {he's a great Plague to me :' Not but my Lord Bifhop her Uncle was a mighty good Man ; fhe lived all along with him ; I took her upon his word : 'twas he made her a Scholar ; I thought her a Miracle Before 1 had her, I us'd to go and hear her talk Latin with him an Hour to- gether j and there I— -I — I play'd the Fool 1 was wrong, I was wrong 1 iliould not have marry'd again and yet I was fo fond of her Parts, 1 begg'd him to give my eldefc Daugh- ter the fame fine Education ; and (o he did— but to tell you xhe truth, I believe both their Heads are turn'd. Gran. The 'Ladies Philosophy. 383 Gran. A good Husband, Sir, would fet your Daughter right, I warrant you. Sir Gilb. He mult come out of the Clouds then ; for Die thinks no mortal Man can deferve her : wliat think you, Mr. Frankly, you had foon enough of her ? Fran. I think ftill, ihe may deferve any mortal Man, Sir. Gran. I can't boaft of my Merit, Sir Gilbert ; but I wifh you would give me leave to take my Chance with her. Sir Gilb. Will you dine with me ? Gran. Sir, you fhall not ask me twice. Sir Gilb. And you, Mr. Frankly ? Fran. Thank you, Sir, I have had the Honour of my Lady's Invitation before I came out. Sir Gilb. O ! then pray don't fail ; for when you are there, fhe's always in Humour. Gran. I hope, Sir, we fhall have the Happinefs of the young Lady's Company too. Sir Gilb. Ay, ay after Dinner I'll talk with you. Fran. Not forgetting your fair Favourite, Charlotte, Sir ! Sir Gilb. Look you, Mr. Frankly, I underftand you ; you have a mind to my Daughter Charlotte; and I have often told you, I have no Exceptions to you : and therefore you may well wonder why I yet fcruple my Confent. Fran. You have a Right to refute it, no doubt, Sir ; but, I hope, you can't blame me for asking it. Sir Gilb. In troth I don't ; and I wifh you had it with all my Heart : But fo it is there's no Comfort fure in this Life : for though by this glorious State of our Stocks, I have rais'd my poor fingle Plumb to a Pomgranet ; yet, if they had not rilen quite fo high, you and I, Mr. Frankly, might poflibly have been both hap- pier Men than we are. Fran. How lb, Sir ? Sir Gilb. Why at the Price it now is, I am under Contract to give one of the greater!: Coxcombs upon Earth the Refufal ot marrying which of my Daughters he pleafes. Gran. Hey day ! What is Marriage a Bubble too ? [slfide. Sir 384 The Refusal; or, Sir Gilb. Nay, and am bound in Honour even to fpeak a good word for him : You know young Witling. Fran. I could have guefs'd your Coxcomb, Sir ; but, I hope, he has not yet named the Lady. Sir Gilb. Not directly : but I guefs his Inclinations ; and ex- pect, every hour, to have him make his Call upon my Confent, according to Form. Fran. Is this pollible ? Gran. Sir, if he fhould happen to name Sophronia, will you qive me leave to drub him out of his Contract f Sir Gilb. By no means : Credit's a nice Point ; and People won't fuppofe that would be done without my Connivance : be- fide, I believe Sophronias in no danger. But becaufe one can be fare of nothing, Gentlemen, I demand both your Words of Honour, that for my fake, you will neither of you ufe any Acfts of Hoftility. Fran. Sir, In this Cafe you have a Right to command us. Sir Gilb. Your Hands upon't. 'Both. And our Words of Honour. Sir Gilb. I am fatisfy'd If we can find a Way to cut- wit him — fo — if not Odfo ! here he comes : I beg your pardon, Gen- tlemen ; but I won't be in his way, till I cannot help it. Hum ! hum ! [Exit Sir Gilb. Gran. A very odd Circuniftance. Fran. I am afraid there is fomething in it ; and begin to think now, my Friend Witling (in his Raillery yefterday with Charlotte) knew what he (aid himfelf, tho' he did not care whether any body elfe did. Gran. Sure ! it cannot be real ; I always took Witling for a Beggar. Fran. So he was, or very near it, fome Months ago ; but fince Fortune has been playing her Tricks here, fhe has rewarded his Merit, it feems, with about an Hundred Thoufand Pound out of Change-Alley. Gran. Nay, then he may be dangerous indeed. Fran. I lon Vipers, if rightly taken, are Prefervacives r feeminanamo- And as the Spartans taught their Children to abhor In- ^nuher'] 1 temperance, by lliewing them their Slaves expos'd,and fenfelefs in their Wine ; fo I, in Contemplation of this Folly, may be fortified againfl it -O ! the abandon'd Wan- tons ! What a riotous Diforder now mull run through every Vein of her whole Syilem ? How can they thus deface the Dignity of Human Being ? A Kifs, nay then 'tis infupportable. [She goes to them.] Sifter, I am amaz'd you can fland trifling here, when my Father's come home, and you know he wants you. Char. She has certainly ieen us. \A(ide to Fran. Fran. No matter, feem eafy, and take no notice. [Apart to Char. Soph. Shall I tell him you will not come, MaJcirn I Char. The Ladies Philofophy. 40^ Char. Well, do not be in a Pafllon, dear Sifter. Fran. O fy ! why fhould you think fo ? But is Sir Gilbert come in, Madam ? I have a little Bufinefs with him : If you pleafe, Madam, I'll wait upon you to him. Char. With all my heart. Fran. Amante Spofa, ccc. [Exit finding with Char. Soph. What means this Turbulence of Thought ? Why am I thus diforder'd ? It cannot nay, I will not have it Jealoufy No ! if I were capable of Folly, Granger might miflead. me ; yet ftill I am difturb'd Yes, 'tis plain, I am incens'd provok'd at him ; but can I not aflign the Caufe ? O ! I have found it having firft offer'd up his Heart to me, his giving it to ano- ther, without my leave, is an Infult on my Merit, and worthy my Refentment that's all- How thenfhall I pumihhim? by fecuring her to his Rival Witling flialf have her ; I'll work it by my Lady, fhe feems his Friend Yes, yes, that will en- tirely eafe my Heart : How I rejoice to find 'tis only decent Pride that has difturb'd me Yes, I'll certainly refent it to their mu- tual Difappointment. 1 Thus both [hall fitffer, doomd to different Fates : His be Dejpair ; be hers, the Man fhe hates. [Exit. ACT III. Lady Wrangle and Sophronia. • ^ JP^jfMpoflible ! You amaze me ! Kifs her, fay you ? What I &J1 as a Lover, amoroufly ? voluptuoufly ? . L illy ? voluptuoufly Soph. Infarnoufly ! with all the glowing Fervour of a Liber- tine. L. Uh 406 Vie RefusU; or, L. Wr. Then I am deceiv'd indeed ! I thought that Virtue, Letters, and Philofophy, had only Charms for him : I have known his Soul all Rapture in their Praifes ; nay, and believ'd myfelf the fecret Object of them all. But is he vulgar, brutal then at laft ? No Punick Faith fo falie 'Tis well ! he has de- ceiv'd me, and I hate him. O that forward Creature ! Soph. She warms as I could wifh. [Afide. L. Wr. But tell me, dear Sophronia, how did that naufeous Girl behave to him ? Was the Shame chiefly his ? . Did fhe refill:, or — how was this odious Kifs obtain'd ? . Were his Perfuafions melting, or her Allurements artful ? Was he enfnar'd, or did his Wiles fe- duce her ? O tell me all his Bafenefs ! I burn to know, yet wiih to be deceiv'd. Soph. Speratqne mijerrima fctlli Directly jealous of him; but I'll make my Ules of it. [Apde.~\ Nay, Madam, I mult own the guilty part was chiefly hers : Had you but feen the warm Ad- vances that fhe made him, the Looks, the Smiles, the toying Glances, O! fuch wanton Blandifhments to allure him; you would think his Crime, compar'd to hers, but Frailty. L. Wr. O ! the little Sorcerefs ! but I fhall flop her in her loofe Career : I'll have her know, forward as fhe is, her Inclinations fhall wait upon my Choice ; and fmce fhe will run riot, I'll have her clo^g'd immediately : I'll marry her, Sophronia ; but — where I think fit : No ! Mr. Witling is her Man, or fhe's a Maid for ever. Soph. That, Madam, I doubt, fhe will never be brought to ; fhe mortally hates him. L. Wr. So much the better ; I do not defign him therefore as her Happinefs, but her Punifhment. Soph. This is fortunate ; fhe even prevents my Purpofe. [AJide. L. Wr. O ! that a Man of his fublime Faculties could fall from fuch a Height Was ever any thing 10 mean, Sophronia ? Soph. I am furpriz'd indeed: my Sifter too is io illiterate, Ma- dam. L. Wr. To contaminate his Intellects with fuch a Chit of an Ani- mal ! O Tempora I Soph. O Mores! 'Tis a degenerate Age indeed, Madam. L. Wr. The Ladies Philofophy. 407 L. Wr. Nothing but Noife and Ignorance \ Girls and Vanity have their Attractions now. Soph. O ! there's no living, Madam, while Coquettes are fo openly tolerated among a civiliz'd People ! L. Wr. I proteft, they are 10 infolently infidious, they are be- come mere Nufances to all innocent Society. Soph. I am amard the Government fhould not fet the idle Crea- tures to work. L. Wr. The Wifdom of our Anceftors reftrain'd fuch horrid Li- cences; and, you fee, the Laws they made defcrib'd them all by the modeft Term of Spinfters only. But I'll take care of her at lead ; and fince £he is become a publick Milchief, to humble her, will be a publick Good : I'll fend to Mr. Witling this moment, and invite him to dine here. I defire you will be in the way, Child, and aflift me in bringing this Matter to a fpeedy Conclu- sion. ^ [Exit. Soph. Yes, I fhall aflift you, Madam ; tho not to gratify your Refentments, but my own: Poor Lady! is this then all die Fruit of your Philofophy ? Is this her Conduct of the Paffions, not to endure another fhould poftefs what fhe pretends to (corn ? Are thefe her Sell-denials ? Where, where was her Self-examination all this while ? The leaft Enquiry there had Ihewn thefe Paflions as they are : Then had fhe feen, that all this Anger at my Sifter was but Envy ; thoie Reproaches on her Lover, Jealoufy ; even that Jealoufy, the Child of Vanity, and her avow'd Refentment, Malice! Good Heaven! can fhe be this Creature, and know it not ! And yet 'tis 10 — fo partial's Nature to herfelf : That Charity begins, zvhere Knowledge fhould, And all our Wijdoms counfeltd by the Blood : 'The Faults of others we with Eafe difcern, But our own Frailties are the lafl we learn. Going off, fie meets Frankly and Charlotte, Ha ! Perpetually together ? Char. In Contemplation, Sifter ? I am afraid we difturb you : Come, Mr. Frankly, we'll go into the next Room. Soph. 408 The Refusal; ^ Soph. No, Madam, if you have any Secrets, I'll retire. Char. Nay, we have none now, Sifter, but what I dare fwear you are entirely let into : Ha ! ha ! ha ! Fran. So ! ihe mud have a gentle Infult, I find ; but it will be prudent in me to keep the peace. [oAfide. Soph. Thefe Taunts are infupportable ! but to conrefs the Smart, were adding to her Triumph. [Afide. Char. Why (o grave, Sophronia ? Soph. Why that Queftion, Madam ? Do you often fee me otherwife ? Char. No ; but, 1 thought, upon your luppofing we had Se- crets, you drew up a little. Soph. 'Tis poilible, I might not be in a laughing Humour, without thinking any of your Secrets important. Fran. People, Madam, that think much, always wear a ferious Afpeft. [To Char. Soph. As the contrary, Sifter, may be a Reafori for your con- tinual Mirth. Char. Well ! well ! Co I am but happy, Sifter, I am content you fhould be wife as long as you live. Soph. You have one Sign ol Wifdom, I fee; a little thing con- tents you— There's no bearing her. [Exit Soph. Char. She's in a high Miff. Fran. I am afraid there is no Good towards us: I obferv'd my Lady, as ihe pafs'd too, had much the fame Cloud upon her Brow. Char. Then fhe has certainly told her how flie caught us tool- ing together. Fran. No doubt on't ; therefore we muft expect all the Mis- chief that either of them can do us. Char. My Sifter cant do as much, at leaft. Fran. She can blow up my Lady ; and, you know, my Lady go- verns your Father. Char. She does a little overbear him indeed ; not but he will make his Party good with her upon occafion : I have known it come to a drawn Battel between them, efpecially when he has any body to ftand by him. A fad Life tho, Mr. Frankly, when con- jugal Engagements are only Battles ; does not their Example frigh- ten you? Fran. The Ladies Philofophy. 409 Fran. I can fee no Hazard, in taking my Chance with you, Ma- dam. Sophronia returns, and flops Jhort, feeing Frankly taking Charlotte'.; Hand. Soph. So ! doling again the minute they are alone ! but I fhall make bold with them. [Goes forward.] Pray, Siller, what did you do with that Book of mine you took up this Morning ? Char. What Book ? Soph. The Confutius, you know, in my Chamber. Char. O ! I did not mind it, I left it upon the green Table. Soph. Very well that's all 1 beg your pardon : What a melancholy Sight fhe is ? [Exit, and drops her Handkerchief. Fran. This Book was only a Pretence to break in upon us. Char. Plainly ihe haunts us like the Ghoft in Hamlet. But pray, what Talk had you with my Father juft now ? Fran. A great deal ; we are upon very good Terms there, I can tell vou : But his Confcience r it feems, is under the moil ridicu- lous Dilemma, fure, that ever was. Char. What do you mean ? Fran. If you will have patience to hear it, I'll tell you. Char. I fhall have no patience till I do hear it. Fran. You mult know then, fome time ago, Sir Gilbert hap- pen d, in a mix'd Company in Change- si He), to join in a Laugh at Mr. Witling, for his Folly (as it was then thought) in giving out Premiums for the Refufal ot South-Sea Stock at an extravagant Price : The Beau being piqued to an Intemperance, to fee his Bar- gains a Jeff, offer'd, in Heat of Blood, to back his Judgment with more Monev, for a harder Bargain, and ten times as chime- rical. Char. Ay, now let's hear. Fran. Thus it was : He told an Hundred Guineas into your Fa- ther's hand ; in confideration of which (if Witling could prove him- (elf worth Fifty Thoufand Pound within the Year, and the South- Sea Stock fhould in that time mount to a Thoufand per Cent, why then, and on thofe Conditions only) your Father was to give him the Refufal of you, or vour Sifter, in ' Marriage. This whimfical Vol. II. Ggg Offer 410 The Refusal ; or, Offer turn'd the Laugh of the Company to the Beau's fide ; at which Sir Gilbert, impatient of his Triumph, and not being in the lead: apprehenfive either of the Stock's rifing to that Price, or that this Rattle-headed Fellow could poflibly make fuch a Fortune in that time ; fairly took the Money, and fign'd the Contract. Now the Stock, it Teems, is come up to his Price, and the Spark has actually prov'd himielf worth near double the Sum he condi- tion'd for. Char. For Heaven's lake ! am I to take all this ferioufly ? Fran. Upon my Life 'tis true : But don't miftake the Matter ; Sir Gilbert has left his Daughter's Inclinations free : there is no Force to be put upon them in the Bargain. Char. Oh ! then I can take my Breath again. Fran. No, no ; you are fare as to that point : You may do as vou pleafe ; he has only tied up his own Confent. But Witling having this Call upon it, Sir Gilbert -is incapable, as he fays, of giving it at prefent to me. Char. Weil ! but, in the mean time, fuppofe he fhould give it to you ; what's the Penalty ? Fran. That's true ; I had like to have forgot it : The Penalty is this ; if Sir Gilbert refufes his Confent, then he is to give Wit- lim an Alternative of the Three Thoufand Pound Stock only, at Two Hundred. So low, it feems, was the Price, when this Bar- gain was made. Char, A pinching Article : I am afraid my good Father has not Diftafte enough for a Coxcomb, to part with his Stock, and not tofs him a Daughter into the Bargain. Fran. Ay, but confider ; Sir Gilbert is not to part with his Stock neither, if you refute to marry the Gentleman. Char. Why then the Fool has given his Money for nothing ; at lead I am Cure he has, if he makes his Call upon me. Fran. Ay, but here's the Misfortune ; the Fool has been wife enough to do that already ; Sir Gilbert tells me, lie has infilled upon you ; and you may be fure my Lady, and your Sifter, will do all in their power to hold your Father to his Bargain : So that, while the Contract's valid, it will not be even in your power, Charlotte, to compleat my Happinefs this halt Year. Char The Ladies Philofophy. 411 Char. It gives me, at leaft, occafion to ihew you a new Proof of my Inclination j for, I confers, I fhall be as uneafy as you, till, one way or other, this ridiculous Bargain is out of that Coxcomb's hands again. Fran. O ! Charlotte ! lay your Hand upon my Heart, and feel how fenfibiy it thanks you. Char. Foolifh ! Sophronia enters, as looking for her Handkerchief and observes them. Soph. Monftrous ! actually embracing him ! What have her Tranf ports made her blind too ? Sure fhe might fee me. Char. Be vou but rul'd, and I'll engage to manage it. Fran. I have a lucky Thought, that certainly Char. Peace! break thee orr! Lo ! where it comes again. Fran. Speak to it, Horatio [Seeing Soph. Char. Do you want any thing, Sifter ? Soph. Ay ! did not I drop an Handkerchief here ? Char. I did not fee any—rr-Q ! here 1 believe this is it. [Gives it her, [They all fiand gravely mute for fome time, at la ft Char- lotte, as uneafy at her Company, fpeaks.] Char. Do you want any thing elfe, Sifter ? Soph. [Turning [hoft upon her.] • Yes, Madam Patience— to fupport me under your injurious AfTurance. Chan Keep your Temper, Sifter, left I fhould fufpedt your Phi- lofophy to be only an Affectation of Knowledge you never could arrive at. Soph. There are fome Surprizes, Madam, too ftrong for all the Guards of Human Conftancy. Char. Yet I have heard you fay, Madam, 'tis a Narrownefs of Mind to be furpriz'd at any thing. Soph. To be amaz'd at the Actions of the Unjuft, and the Aban- don'd, is a Weaknefs that as often rifes from Innocence and Vir- rue : You muil therefore pardon me, if I am aftonifh'd at your Behaviour. Fran. So ! I fuppofe I fhall have my fhare prefently. [aAftde. G 2; 2 2, Char. 412 The Refusal; or, Char. My Behaviour, Madam, is not to be afpers'd by Outrage; and if I am not aftonifh'd at yours, 'tis becaufe the Folly of it ought to move no Paflion, but Laughter. Soph. This to me ! to me ! Mrs. Charlotte ? Char. Ay, ay ! to you, Mrs. Sophronia. Fran. I beg your pardon, Ladies, I fee you have private Buii- nefs. [Going. Soph. No, Sir hold you are at lead an Accomplice, if not the Principal in the Injury I complain of Fran. You do me a great deal of honour, Madam, in fuppofmg any thing in my power could difturb you: but pray, Madam, wherein have I been (o unhappy as to injure you ? Soph. In the tendered Part ; my Fame, my Senfe, my Merit, and (as the World efteems it) in my Sex's Glory. Fran. Accumulated Wrongs indeed ! But really, Madam, I am yet in the dark ; I muft beg you to explain a little farther. Soph. Then plainly thus, Sir: You have robb'd me of my Right ; the Vows of Love you once preferr'd to me, are by the Laws of Honour, without my Content, irrevocable: but, like a vile Apoftate, you have fince prefum'd to throw your fcornful Malice on my Attractions, by bafely kneeling to another. Char. O ! the painful Conflicts of Prudery. [Afide. Fran. This is hard indeed, Madam, that the Lofs of what you never thought worth your Acceptance, fhould be worth your Re- fentment : If a Beggar fhould ask you Charity, would you call it an Injury, if, upon your refufing it, the Wretch fhould beg of the next PafTenger ? Char. Well ! is not that prettily laid now, Sifter ? Soph. The Cafe is different- —You owe me Tribute as your rightful Conqueror j and tho I have declin'd the taflelefsTriumph of your Homage, that's no Remittance of the Duty : Nor can you pay it to the Ufiirper of my Right, without rebellious Perjury to me. Fran. Hoyty ! toyty ! I-gad there will be no end of this — —I muft e'en talk downright to her. [A fide. Soph. Oblations vow'd to a peculiar Power, are to its peculiar Altars only due -, and tho the Offering might be ill receiv'd, yet fhould Tlie Ladies Philosophy. 415 fhould the murmuring Suppliant dare to invoke another's Aid, his Vows are then become profane and impious to the Deity. Char. So I fince he would not make her a Goddeis, I find Die's refolv'd to make one of herfelf. \_Afide. Fran. Now really, Madam, if I were to put all this into plain Engliflh the Tranflation would amount to no more than this, That your offended Deity is a meer Dog in a Manger : What the Duce, becaufe you don't love Oats, muft nobody elfe eat them ! Ha ! Ha ! Char. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Soph. Amazement ! Horror ! I am fhock'd and fhiver'd to a thouiand Atoms ! O ! my violated Ears ! Fran. Ay, ay ! Madam, you may give yourfelf as many Roman- tick Airs as you pleale ; but, in fhort, I can play the civil Hypo- crite no longer. Soph. Ye Powers ! he triumphs in Brutality ! < Fran. That is, Madam, becaufe you will always take Civility for Adoration. But however, to clear up this whole Matter ; it] for once, you can reduce yourfelf from a Deity to what Nature has made you, a Woman of Senfe, I'll beg pardon for my Bruta- lity, and {peak to you like a Gentleman. Soph. You may fuppofe me then to have the Senfe you fpeak of. Fran. Why then I own, Madam, when I firft came from Travel, my good Father, on whom I then depended, recommended me to an Alliance in this Family : I thought myfelf honour'd in his Commands ; and being equally a Stranger to you and your Sifter, I.judg'd, as being the Elder, you had a natural Eight to the Pre- ference of my AddrefTes : I faw you, law your Perlbn lovely, adorn'd with all thole Charms that ufually infpire the Lover's Tongue to bend the Ear of Beauty. Char. How Ihe drops her Eyes at it ! [Afide. Fran. But on a nearer Converfe, I found you fcarce a Mortal in your Sentiments ; fo utter a Difdain of Love, had you imbibed from your Romantick Education : no wonder I fucceeded not ; I fhall not reproach you with my peculiar Treatment : you pleafed yourfelf, and I retreated. On this I thought my Heart at liberty to try its better Fortune here. Here I am nYd, and juftify my Love j ■ 414 Wg Refusal; or, Love ; where then's the Injury to you, in Laying at your Sifter's feet a Lleart, which your Difdain rejected ? Soph. 'Tis true, while orfer'd with impure Defires ; while tenfu- ally, and as a Woman only, you purfued me : But had you greatly fought the Marriage of the Mind, the focial Raptures or the Soul; I might, perhaps, have cherifh'd an intellectual Union. Fran. Ah ! but dear, dear Madam, thole Raptures in the Air would not do my Bufmefs ; I want an Heir to my Family, and, in plain Terms, my Cafe requires one that will give a little bodily Help to it. Soph. Nay then again, I muft difclaim you; a Heart fo tainted would but fully the Receiver: The Shrine's diihonour'd by a pol- luted Sacrifice. Char. So! fhe's at her old Flights again. [oAJide. Soph. Thus then I fly for ever from your Hopes Thus Daphne triumptid der Apollo's Flame, Jlnd to his Heaven prefer d a Virgins JSlame : The W T r. Sir Gilb. Why, then, blaze and burn by yourfelf ; for I'll 2,0 out of the Houfe. [Going off, he is met by Frankly and Charlotte. Fran. Have you fcen my Lady, Sir ? Sir Gilb. Yes, yes, I have feen her but 1 don't know fhe fhe— < Fran. Don't come into it, I fuppofe. Sir Gilb. Umh ! no, not readily in Ihort, the Houfe is all untiled. Char. Lord, Sir ! what filthy thing's this ? [Seeing the Paper. Sir Gilb. Ay, there's the Bufinefs— — —a Brat of my Lady's Brain that has got a Mifchance ; that's all. Fran- The Ladies Philofophy. 42$ Fran. Some roafted Poetry, I prefume. Sir Glib. Ay, ay ; the, the, the Paifion of Bibble-Babble ; I don't know what Hie calls it : But ihe has been in fucha Fume here, that half the Servants are going to leave the Houfe about it — Char- lotte, you can wheedle upon Occafion, prithee ftep into the Hall, and fee it you can make up this matter among them. Char. I'll do my beft, Sir. [Exit Char. Fran. Poor Lady ! ihe is a little apt to be over-concern'd for her Poetry. Sir Glib. Concern d ! Odsblews ! if a Line on't happens to be millaid, {he's as mad as a blind Mare that has loft her Foal; fhe'll run her Head againft a Stone-wall to recover it: All the ufe I find of her Learning, is, that it furniflies her with more words to fcold with. Enter a Servant. Scrv. Sir, Mr Grangers come, and Mr. Witling. Sir Glib. O ! that's well ! come, Mr. Frankly, let's all go into the Dining-Room together; mayhap, Ihe may be afham'd to be in a PaiTion before Company. Fran. At leaft we may keep her within Bounds, Sir. Sir Gilb. You're right ! you're right ! Ah ! it's a very hard Cafe ! there's no Condition of Life without Plague and Trouble Why, moft People think now I have Fortune enough to make ten Men of Quality happy And yet you fee how oddly things are carried j Tis true, Im worth a Million, but Tm married. [Ex. Vol. II. Iii ACT 426 The Refusal; or, ACT IV. Granger and Frankly. N one word, Granger, thou art a very dangerous Fellow ; I did not believe it poffible thy blunt Humour could have concealed 10 exquifite a Flat- terer : Why thou art more in my Lady's Favour in half an Hour, than all my Art could make me in half a Year. Gran. Have not I always told you, Frankly, that one civil thing from a downright Dealer, goes farther than a thoufand from a Man of general Complaifance I How do you think I firft gain'd Credit with Sophronia ? not (as you expected to do it) by an in> plicite Admiration; but the contrary, infolendy laughing at her pretending to Principles, which I would not allow her capable to comprehend or practife. Now this naturally piqued her into an Impatience to mend my Opinion of her ; fo the more diffi- cult I feem'd to be convinc'd of her Virtues, the more eafy I made it to mend her Opinion of me. Ban. And if thou haft not done it effectually, I know nothing of the Sex : Why ffie bluih'd, Man, like a Damask Rofe, when you firft came into the Room. Gran. Did not I tell you too, her Quarrel and Spleen to you would be of Service to me ? Ran. O ! palpably ! I was ready to burft to fee her bridle, and fmile at me, upon your growing particular to her. Gran. And what pains fhe took to make you obferve, that fhe ©verlook'd you ? ha ! ha ! Fran. The "Ladies Philofophy. 427 Fran. Yes, I did obferve, indeed, that the whole Dinner-time fhe was never two Minutes without dealing a Glance at you. Gran. O blefs me ! I cant bear the Iniolence of my own Ima- gination ! What a dear Confufion will fhe feel ? What a Vermilion Shame will fpread through all that lovely Form- if ever her Flefh and Blood fhould happen to mutiny ? Fran. Which, to tell you the Truth, I think it does already. Gran. But the Misfortune is, I have fktter'd my Lady into fo good a Humour, by engaging to make out a fair Copy of her bailed Verfes there, that , I doubt, {he won't be able to leave me alone with Sophronia. Fran. Never fear ; her Malice is too bufy, in letting up Witling againft me, to interrupt you. Gran, There indeed I have fome hopes. Fran. I believe I fhall be able to aflift them, and in part to re- turn the Favour you have done me with Sir Gilbert. Gran. Any thing in my power you may be fure of but fee, he's here ! Enter Sir Gilbert. Sir Gilb. O ! your Servant, Gentlemen ; I thought we had loft you. Gran. Your Pardon, Sir, we had only a word or two in private. Fran. We were jufl coming in to the Company. Sir Gilb. In troth, and I can tell you, the fooner the better ; for there's my Lady and Charlotte are going to play all the Game upon us. Fran. Never fear, Sir ; as long as you have given me leave to go Charlottes halves, fhe'll make the moft of her Cards, I'll war- rant you. Sir Gilb. I don't know that, but I am fure Witling yonder is making the moft of his time ; his Wit, or his Impudence, have got him into fuch high Favour, with my Lady, that fhe's railing at you like a Fury, and crying him up for an Angel : In fhort, Char- lotte has difcover'd all your Amur with her, and has plainly told him you are his Rival : But it feems, Sir, your Pretentions are fo ridculous, that they are all three cracking their Sides in a full Chorus of laughing at you. I i i z Ran. 428 The Refusal; or, Fran. Sir, I am oblig'd to you for your Concern ; but, in all this, Charlotte is acting no wrong part, I can allure you. Sir Gilb. No wrong part \ Odfheart ! I tell you fhe's coquetting to him, with every wicked Limb about her and is as full of her Airs there, as a handfome Widow to a young Lord in the Lobby, when fhe has a Suit depending in the. Houfe of Peers. Fran. Better mil, the more likely to carry her Caufe, Sir. Sir Gilb. Carry her Caufe ! carry her Coxcomb, Sir ; for, you'll fee, that will be the end on't : ihe'll be carry 'd off herfelf, Sir. Why, Man, he is going to beleaguer her with a whole Army of Fidlers yonder ; there are fix Coach-Loads of them now at the Door, all ftow'd 'fore and aft, with nothing but Cafes of Instru- ments : Such a Concourfe of Cat-guts, you'd fwear one of their; fqualling Eunuchs were loading alive here. Fran. Believe me, Sir, there is no Terror in all this Prepara- tion ; for fince you are pleated to think Mr. Grangers Security and mine fufficient againlf any Damage you can fuller from your Contract with Witling, do you but ftand it out ftoutly with my Lady, and I'll engage to clifmount his Mulical Battery with a Child's Whittle. Sir Gilb. My Lady ! Pfhaw ! waw ! What doft talk of her, Man ? Why I tell you, I'll put her into a Moufe-hole, provided you . engage to bring me off with Witling. Gran. Your Security fhall be figned the minute it can be drawn, , Sir- Sir Gilb. That's enough ; I have order'd my Lawyer to fend his* Clerk with it, before he brings the Deed of Content that I am to fign to Witling: But give me leave to tell you again, Gentle-- men, I really don't underltand the Girl's way of proceeding all this while. Fran. Why, Sir, don't you know that Witling is the vainefl Rogue upon Earth ? Sir Gilb. I grant it. Fran. And confequently, that the Pride of outwitting you in- your Daughter, gives him more pleafure than eidier her Perfbn or her Portion ? Sir Gilb. Not unlikely. Fran The Ladies Philosophy. 429 Fran- And can you think, that from the fame natural Infolence, he would not rather feem to owe his Triumph over a Rival too, rather to his own Merit, than any Accident of Fortune ? Sir Gdb. I grant you that too. Fran, Why then, Sir, if Charlotte were to defpite him, we are fure he would then infift upon his Bargain ; but while fhe flatters him, and you and I only laugh at him, he may be vain enough to truft his Triumph to her Choice and Inclination only. Sir Glib. O ! now I begin to take you : So that, if he is rightly handled among us, you propofe that Charlotte will be able to coquette him out of his Contract. Fran. Nay, it's her own Project, Sir; and I can't really think we have an ill Chance for it at word: : But we muft leave it all to her now. In Love-Affairs, you know, Sir, Women have generally wifer Heads than we. Sir Glib. Troth ! I don't wholly dillike it ; and if I don't handle him roundly on my part Gran. Hufh ! my Lady Fran. Anon I'll tell you more, Sir. Enter Lady Wrangle and Sophronia. L. Wr. Well, Sophronia, fince I fee this giddy Girl is neither to be form'd by Precept or Example; it's at leail ibme Confblation, to find her natural Inconflancy fo effectually mortifies that vile Apoftate, Frankly, Soph. Yet I am amaz'd he fliould not be more mov'd at her Infidelity. L. Wr. You know, he's vain, and thinks his Merit may deep in full Security. But now! to rouze him from his Dream • O! Mr. Granger ! I am forry you left" us; I am perfectly kill'd with Laughing ! There's Mr, Witling has had fuch infinite Hu- mour ! He has entertain 'd us more than ten Comedies. Gran. O ! Pray, Madam, let us go in and participate. L Wr. By no means ; he's now alone with his Miftrefs, and 'twouI< barbaroL.s to interrupt them. Gran. E Miitrds, I h 1 im i L. Wr. 430 The Refusal; or, L. Wr- Ay ! with Charlotte ; and, you know, Lovers fo near their Happinefs are apt to like no Company fo well as their own. Fran. D'ye hear, Sir ? [To Sir Gilb. apart: Sir Gilb. I told you how it was. [To Fran, apart. L. Wr- Befide, he is going to give us a little Mufick ; and I think this Room will be more convenient. Gran. He is a fortunate Man indeed, Madam, to be fo well with the young Lady already. L. Wr. There's no accounting for that idle Paffion in unculti- vated Minds : I am not furpriz'd at her Forwardnefs, confidering the vulgar Education Mr. Wrangle has given her. Sir Gilb. Odfheart, Madam ! don't difparage my Girl : She has had a more ufefui Education than your Ladyfhip. L. Wr. O ! no doubt ! fhe has fhewn moll; hopeful EfTe&s on't, indeed ! by hanging upon every young Fellow's Neck, that does but ask her the Queftion. Fran. Whatever Faults Charlotte may have, Madam, I never knew her take pleafure in expofmg thofe of other People. L. Wr- O ! cry you mercy, Sir ; you have great reafon to defend her, I don't queftion : She is a Saint in your Eye, to be fure. Fran. Were fhe weak enough to imagine a fuperfkial Learning could make her one, 'tis poflible, her Failings then, like other People's, might have been more confpicuous. L. Wr- What do you mean, Sir ? Fran. I mean, Madam, that as fhe does not read Ariflotle, Plato, Plutarch, or Seneca, fhe is neither romantick or vain of her Pe- dantry ; and as her Learning never went higher than Bkkerfiajfs Tatlers, her Manners are confequently natural, modeft, and agree- able. Sir Gilb. Ah ! well faid, Frankly. [Afide. L. Wr. Since I am told you were once in love with her, I ihall fay no more, but leave her own immediate Behaviour, to confirm your good Opinion of her Virtues. Ha ! ha ! Gran. While the Lovers of this Age, Madam, have fo deprav'd a Tafte, we muft not wonder, if our modern fine Ladies are apt to run into Coquetry: They are now forced to it in their own Defence ; if they don't make Advances, they ltand as lonely and ufelefs The Ladies Philofophy. 43 1 ufelefs as untenanted Houfes : 10 that Coquetry, it feems, is no more than letting a Bill, upon their Door, that Lovers in Diftrefs may read as they pafs Here are Nights Lodgings to be lett. L. Wr- O ! they are moft hofpitable Dames indeed : After this, methinks, the more proper Appellation for Coquettes fhould be that of Landladies. [A Servant zvhifpers L. W-~\ I'll come, and give Orders myfelf. [Exit L. W. Soph. I don't know any one alive, that looks upon the De- generacy of Mankind with fo difcerning an Eye, as Mr. Gran- ger ; but I am afraid it will therefore draw him into my Misfor- tune, of being as odious to the Illiterate of his Sex, as I am to thofe of mine. Gran. If that were as juft a Reafon, Madam, for your having a favourable Opinion of me, as it is for my perfect Admiration of you, we fhould each of us have (till as many Friends as any wife Man or Woman ought to defire. Fran. Do you mind that, Sir? [Apart. Sir Gilb. A fly Rogue ! he knows how to tickle her up, 1 fee. [aAfart. Soph. And yet the rude World will fay, perhaps, that our mu- tual Enmity to them has reduc'd us to a Friendihip for one another. Gran. That's a Reproach can never reach you, Madam \ fo much Beauty cannot but have its Choice of Friends and Admirers : A Form fo bright and perfect, like a Comet in the Hemifphere, where'er it moves, muff fet Mankind on gazing. Soph. Fy ! Mr. Granger ! Sir Gilb. What a dickens ! will fhe (wallow that blazing Star now ? [<±Apart. Fran. Ay, as he has drefs'd it, and drink after it too, Sir. [Apart. Soph. I mind not Multitudes. Gran. Pardon me, I know you have a Soul above them ; and I really think it the Misfortune of your Perfon, to have been fo exquifitely fair, that where your Virtue would preferve, your Eyes deftroy; they give involuntary Love: where'er you pafs, in fpite of all your Innocence, they wound Jwvenumque prodis Pub- lica Cura. Soph. 1(2,2, IIjc R e f'U sal; or, Soph. Alas ! my Eyes are turn'd upon rnyfelf j and (o little do I mind the Follies of other People, that I fometimes find rnyfelf alone, in the midit of a Publick Circle. Gran. I cannot wonder at that, Madam, fince our belt Affem- blics are generally made up of illiterate Beings, that, when they are alone, find themfelv.es in the worft Company ; and fo are re- ducd to come abroad, tho meerly to meet, and hate one another. Soph. What Charms then can you fuppofe I could have for a World, that has fo few for me? Befide, at moft, the Men of mo- dern Gallantry gaze upon a Woman of real Virtue, only as A- theifts look into a fine Church ; from Curiofity, not Devotion : They may admire its Ornaments and Architecture, but have nei- ther Grace or Faith lor farther Adoration. Gran. All Men are not Infidels ; of me, at lead, you have a Convert: And tho the fenfual Practice ot the World had made me long defpair of fuch Perfection in a mortal Mould ; yet, when the Rays of Truth Celeftial broke in upon my Senfe, my confcious Heart at once confefs'd the Deity : I proftrate fell a Pro- felvte to Virtue ; and now, its chafte De fires enlarge, my Soul, ancl raife me to Seraphick Joy. Soph. Harmonious Sounds ! Celeftial Tranfports ! [Afide. jSir Glib. O dear ! O dear ! was ever fuch a wicked Thief ! Od {heart ! he'll make her go to Prayers with him prefently. [Afide. Soph. No more — we are obferv'd : Thefe Heaven-born Emana- tions of the Soul defne not vulgar Ears Some fitter time may offer till when Gran. Till then be hufh'd our Joys. [Gran, leaves her, [and joins the Men, while Soph, walks apart mufmg.'] Soph. Our Joys indeed ! fuch was, in Paradife, our fir ft Parents Joy, before they fell from Innocence to Shame. Fran. [To Gran.] Why did not you go on with her ? We thought you were in a fine way: Sir Gilbert and I were iuft soins to lied off • ° Gran. Soft and fair, Sir : A Lady of her Delicacy muft be car- ried, like a Taper new lighted, gently forward ; if you hurry her — out fhe goes. Sir The ha dies Philofophy. 433 Sir G'tlb. You're right, you're right Now you fhall fee me manage her a little I'll fpeak a good word for you a hum Gran. Hufh! not for the World, Sir Death ! you'll fpoil all don't you fee fhe's in Contemplation ? Sir Glib. What if ihe be, Man ? we muft not humour her, till Ihe is ftark mad neither. Sophronia ! how doft thou do, Child ? Soph. [Repeating.] The Earth- Gave fign of Gratulation, and each Hill : Joyous the Birds; frejh Gales and gentle Airs Whifperd it to the Woods, and from their Wings Flung Rofe, flung Odours- from the fpicy Shrub Difporting — . Sir Giib. Very pretty, I proteft ; very pretty -Thefe amo- rous Scraps of Fancy in thy Head make me hope, that Love is not far from thy Heart, Sophy. Soph. Love, Sir, was ever in my Heart ; but fuch a Love, as the blind Homer of this Britifh Ille, in rhymelefs Harmony fub- limely Zings Sir Glib. Well, and prithee what does he fay of it ? Soph. ■ Love refines Tlje Thought, and Heart enlarges ; has his Seat In Reason, and is judicious, is the Scale, By which to Heavenly Love thou may ft ajcend. Sir Giib. Very good again ; and troth, I'm glad to hear thou art {o heartily reconciled to it. Soph. Eajier than Air with Air, if Spirits embrace, Total they mix, Vnion of Pure with Pure De firing Sir Giib. Ah ! there I doubt we are a little crazy. [Afde. Soph. This Iron Age, fo fraudulent and bold, Touctid with this Love, zvould be an Age of Gold. Sir Giib. O-lud ! O-Iud ! this will never do. [Afide- Gran. So ! {he has given the old Gentleman his Belly-full, I fee : Well, Sir, how do you find her ? Sir Giib. Ah ! poor Soul ! piteous bad ! All upon the Tantivy again ! You rnuft e'en undertake yourfelf ; for I can do no good upon her But here comes Love of another kind. Vo l. II. K k k Enter 434 7fo Refusal; or, Enter Charlotte, Witling, and Lady Wrangle. Char. O Sifter! here's Mr. Witling has writ the prettieft Canta- ta fure, that ever made Mufick enchanting. Soph. I am glad, Sifter, you are reconcil'd to any of his Perfor- mances. Wit. O fy ! Madam, flie only rallies A meer Trifle. Fran. That I dare fwear it is. Wit. Ha ! ha ! no doubt on't ; if you could like it, it muft be an extraordinary Piece indeed, Tom. You lee, my little Rogue, we have crabb'd him already. [Afide to Char. L. Wr. Mr. Frankly is a mere modern Critick, that makes perfo- nal Inclination the Rule of his Judgment ; but to condemn what one never faw, is making fliort Work indeed. Fran. With Submillion, Madam, I can fee no great Rafhnefs - in prefuming, that a Magpye cant ling like a Nightingale. Wit. No, nor an Owllook like a Peacock neither- Ha ! ha > L. Wr. and Char. Ha ! ha ! lia ! L. Wr. Perfectly pleafant Char. O ! Wit to an Infinity ! Fran. Much good may do you with your Canary-Bird, Madam* [To Char. Char. O ! Sir, I am forry you are exhaufted ; but when Wit's upon the Lee, no wonder it runs into Rudenefs. Fran. I don't wonder at my not hitting your Tafte, Madam, when fuch Stuff as his can go down with you. Wt. My Stuff, dear Tom, was composed purely for the Enter- tainment of this Lady ; and fince fhe likes it, I will allow, that yon, of all Mankind, have muftreafon to fwid fault with it. Ha ! ha! Char. Nay, if he fhould like it, even I will then give it up to the World as good for nothing. Fran. Then it's in danger, I can tell you, Madam ; for I fhall certainly like it, becaufe, I am fure, it wiii be good for nothing. Char. A pleafant Paradox. Fran. None at all, Madam ; for fince I find your Heart is like Stock, to be transfer'd upon a Bargain, it will be fome pleafure, at The Ladies Philofophy. 43$ at leaft, to fee the GroiTnefs of your Choice revenge me on your Infidelity. Wit. Poor Tom I What are the Grapes four, my Dear ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! Char. Pfhah ! never mind him : The Cantata, dear Mr. Witling, the Cantata. L. Wr. O ! by all means ; pray oblige us, Sir. Wit. Immediately, Madam ; but all things in order : firft give me leave to regale the good Company with a (mall Crafh of In- flrumental. L. Wr. As you pleafe, Sir. Wit. Hey ! Signior Carbonelli ! Vi Piace d y intrare ? [The Mufick enter. L. Wr. Mr. Granger, won't you pleafe to fit ? Sir Gilb. Ay, ay, come, Gentlemen -, but, in earned, does this Puppy really pretend to fing ? Fran. Much as he pretends to Wit ; he can make a noife, at leaft. Sir Gilb. But the Whelp has no Voice. Fran. O ! Sir, that's out of fafhion : Your beft Maflers feldom have any. Sir Gilb. Then I would not give a fig for their Mufick, Sir ; I would as lief fee a Cripple dance : But let's hear what the Fid- dles can do. [They play a Sonata^] Well ! and what ! we are to fuppofe this is very fine now, ha ! Fran. No doubt on't, Sir ; at leaft it will not be fafe to fay the contrary. Sir Gilb. Well ! well ! for a quiet Life then, very fine let it be ; but I wifli I could hear a Lancaflnre Hornpipe for all that. L. Wr. Come, dear Sir, no more Apologies. [To Wit. Gran. See, Sir ! Mr. Witling is going to entertain us. Sir Gilb. Ay ! that mult be rare Stuff indeed. Wit. Upon my Life, Madam, I have no more Voice than a Kettle-Drum ; befide, this is for a Treble, and out of my Com- pafs- Char. O ! no matter ; feign it, dear Mr. Witling ! Kkk i Wit. 436 The Refusal ; or, Wit. I would fain oblige you, Madam j but yet, me thinks, no- thing done, to pleafe you, fhould be feign'd neither, Madam. Fran. Hah ! he would fain be witty, 1 fee ; but don't trouble yourfelf, Madam, he has as much mind to ling, as you have to hear him : Tho, Heaven knows, his Voice is like his Modefty, utterly forc'd ; Nature has nothing to do with either of them. Wit. Whatever my Modefty is, dear Tom, thy Uneafinefs I am fure is natural ; that comes from thy Heart, I dare anfwer for it. Ha i ha ! ha ! Fran. O thou happy Rogue ! Wit. But, Madam, if I ling, you fhall promife me to dance then. Char. O ! any Compofition ; Til do it with all my heart- L. Wr. But the Words, firft ; dear Sir, read them out- Wit. Well, Ladies, fince you mud have it Sir Gilb. He is a curfed while about it, methinks Wit. You mull: know then, this Cantata is of a different Species from the Paflion generally exprefs'd in our modern Opera's ; for there you fee your Lover ufually approaches the fair Lady with Sighs, Tears, Torments, and Dying : Now here, I fhow you the way of making Love like a pretty Fellow ; that is, like a Man of Senfe, all Life and Gayety As for example. Char. Pray mind. Wit. [Reading."] Thus to a -pen five Swain, Who long had lovd in vain, Thyrfis the fecret Arts Of gaining Hearts From cold Dijdain, To his despairing Friend imparts. Wit. So far Recitative Now for the Air^^A hum ! hum ! Soph. Don't you think, Mr. Granger, that the double Dative Ca- fes of to a pen jive Swain, to his despairing Friend, almoft. re- duce this toNonienie? Gran. Juftly obferv'd, Madam \ but, you know, Nonfenfe and Harmony are reconciled of late. Wit. The Ladies Philofophy. 437 Wit. Would you woe her With Succefs ? *Up to her, Purfue her With Life and Address. If Gay, Shew her Play ; If colder, Be bolder. Now Je'iZje her. And teiz^e her, And kifs her, And pleafe her, Till ripe for the Joy, Ton warm her!, Alarm her, Difarm her, Tou charm her, III warrant thee, Boy. Part II. But to pine and languifh, Or figh your Anguifh, To the Air, Is fruitlefs Pain, Inaurd in vain : Silent Woes and Looks of Care, Will never, never win the Fair. End with the firft Strain Wit. Ah ! you little Rogue. [To Chariot. L. Wr. Infinitely pretty ! Nothing fure was ever lb mufical. Char. Sing it, ting it, dear Mr. Witling ', I am on Tiptoe to hear it. Wit. Well, Madam, if you can bear it in a Falfetto. [He fmgs* Char. Caro J Caro ! Wit.. .438 The Refusal; or, Wtt. Anima mia Soph. [To Gran.] How happy are the Self-conceited ? and yet, if he had not fung now, this Wretch's Folly and Ignorance had been lefs confpicuous. Gran. Right, Madam; but you know a Man mufl have variety of Parts to make an accomplifli'd Coxcomb. Soph. I fcarce think Poetry is more abus'd than Mufick, by its vain Pretenders. Gran. And yet 'tis hard to fay, Madam, whether thofe Preten- ders, or the falfe Tafte of our modern Admirers, have more con- tributed to the Abufe of either. Wit. But come, Madam, now your Promife ; your Airs only [To Char.] can give a Bonne Bomhe to our Entertainment. Char' Well ; fince I gave my word, I'll ufe no Ceremony. Soph. What! more Folly ? I grow tired : Shall we walk into my Library ? there we may raife our Thoughts. Gran. You charm me, Madam ; I thirft, methinks for a clear Draught, of Helicon. Soph. Take no leave, but follow me. [Ex. Soph, and Gr. Wit. E ben Sonate. [Charlotte dances.'] Eh! Viva ! viva ! All Enchantment, Madam ; no Ten Thoufand Angels ever came up to it. L. Wr. It cannot be deny'd but Charlotte has an external Ge- nius, fhe wants no perfonal Acquifitions ; but 'tis great pity the Application they have coil her, was not laid out upon the Im- p ovement of her Underftanding. Wit. O ! pardon me, Madam ; as long as there is a good Un- derftanding between her and me, what's matter which ot us has it, you know. Sir Gilb. Ay, but there's the Queftion, which of you 'tis that has it : for if one of you has it, I am fure you two will never come together. Fran. Well faid ! at him, Sir. [Afide. Wit. Look you, Sir Gilbert ; you may fancy your fair Daughter and I are a Couple of Fooh^ if you pleafe ; but if one of us had not been wi(er than Her Father, we could never have had a Right to come together, in fpite of his teeth ; that's certain : ha \ ha'! ha ! L. Wr. The Ladies Philofophy. 439 L. Wr. Pardon me, Mr. Witling ; you under-rate your Merit : for you had been fure of my Content, without your Contract Wit. Ay, Madam, that was only a foolifh Modefty, that I could not {hake ofTj therefore I hope you will excufe me, if I durft not think Merit alone was a {iifficient Bait to bob Sir Gilbert out of his Confent 1 ha ! ha ! Sir Cilb. You are a very merry Grig, Sir ; but have a care you are not bobb'd yourfelf : Stay till you win, before you laugh j for you are not yet married, I prefume. Wit. Why no, nor you have not fupped yet j yet I hold Gold to Silver, we both eat before we deep. Sir Cilb. Why ? doff thou think the Girl is in hafte to marry thee to-night ? Wit. I don't fay that neither : But, Sir, as long as I have a fuf- ficient Depofite of the Lady's Inclinations, to anfwer for the reft of her Premifes, you will give me leave not to be afraid of her 'look- ing out for a new Chap in the mean time, Sir. '"Sir Gilb. A Depofite ! why, wouldft thou perfuade me the Girl can be Fool enough to like thee ? Wit. I-gad, I don't know how 'tis, but flie has Wit enough, it feems, to make me think (b but if you won't take my word, let her anfwer for herfelf. Sir Gilb. Ay, that I fhould be glad to hear. Wit. Hah ! ha • I-gad this is a pleafant Queftion indeed Madam, are not you willing, (as foon as the Church-Books can be open) to make a Transfer oi your whole Stock of Beautv, for the conjugal Ufes of your humble Servant ? Char- Indeed, Papa, I won't fuppofe that can be a Queftion. Wit. A Hum ! your humble Servant, Sir- Char. Befide, are not you obliged to iign a further Deed of Confent to Mr- Witling ? Sir Gilb. Yes, Cmld ; but the fame Deed referves to you a Right of Refufal, as well as to him. Char. That I underftand, Sir j and there's one can witnefs for whom 1 have reiervd that Right of Refufal- [Pointing to Fran. Wit. Your humble Servant again, Sir ; ha ! ha ! ha ! L. Wr. 440 The Refusal; or, L. Wr. I am amaz'd, Mr. Wrangle, you could think fhe could be under the leaft Difficulty in the Choice. Fran. And yet, Madam, there are very innocent Ladies, that have made a Difficulty of changing their Inclinations in half an hour. L. Wr. A Woman of ftric"t. Virtue, Sir, ought to have no In- clinations at all; or, if any, thofe only or being obedient to the Will of her Parents. Wit. O '• let him alone, Madam ; the more he rails, the more I fhall laugh, depend upon't ; the Pain of a Pvival is the plea- ianteft Game in the World : his wiihing me at the Devil, is juft the fame thing as if he wiih'd me Joy ! ha i ha ! ha I Sir Glib. Well, Sir, all I fhall fay, is, that if the Girl has com- mon Senfe, thy Contract mull: [fill be good for nothing. Wit. Right ! and if you had had common Senfe, I am fure you would never have made it ; not but to do you Juftice, Sir Gil- bert, I muft own you have Wit in your way too, though it's of a very odd Turn, I grant you. Sir Glib. Sir, I difown my Pretenflons to any, if ever you had Senfe enough to find it out. Wit. Sure you forget, my dear Sir Gilbert ? Don't you remem- ber once I did find it out ? Did not I (lily catch you in St. What- de-callums Churchyard, with your Table -Book, taking dead Peo- ples Names from the Tombftones, to fill up the Lift of your Third Subfcription, that you might be fure ot thofe that would never come to claim it ? and then pretended to all your Friends you were full : There, at leaft, you had more Wit to keep Peo- ple out, than any Man living had to get in : for I grant you, your Lift was dead fure ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Sir Gilb. Why, ay, this nonienfkal Story now palTes for Wit, I warrant, among yonr Cocard and Velvet Sparks at Garrazuays ; but much good may do you with your Jeft, as long as we have your Money among us j I believe it will be no hard matter to bite moft of yout foft Heads off before it be long ; and if you drive on, as you feem to do, we fhall make bold to (ot fome of you down where we took you up, odfheartlikins ! Wt. The Ladies Philosophy. 441 Wit. Nay, I grant you, toclo your own Bufinefs, you muft do other Peoples too ; but it all the young Fellows of Drefs and Pleafiue y ouid follow me, I would undertake to lead you a Dance tor all that. Sir Gilb And, pray what would you have them do ? Wit. Why ? do ! as you do ; nothing that you pretend to do : or do, as I did, every thing, that you whitper'd me not to do. I minded what your Broker did, not what youfaid, my Dear ? And if every Gentleman would but buy, when you advife him to fell ; or fell, when you advife him to buy, 'twould be impodible to go out ot the way : Why ! it's as plain a Road, Man, as from Hide-Park Corner to Kenfngton. Sir Glib. Sir, vou take a great deal of liberty with my Charac- ter ; infomuch, that I muft tell you, I am not fure I won't pay the Forfeit of my Contract, rather than part with my Daugh- ter to a Coxcomb and {o take it as you will. L. Wr. Mr. Wrangle ! what do you mean by this Brutality ? Fran. Mr. Witling, Madam, will take nothing ill, that I think fit to juftify, I am fure. Wit. No, faith ! you need not fear it ; I'll marry before I fight, depend upon't. Ha ! ha ! L. Wr. Mr. Witling, I beg you come away this momeut — -I'll undertake to do your Merit juftice : I'll fee who dares pretend to govern in this Family befide myfelh Charlotte, give him your Hand Come, Sir ■ [Exit L. Wr. Wit. I am all Obedience, Madam your humble Servant, Mr. Frankly — Would you woo her [Exit, finging with Char. Fran. Admirably well done, Sir ! you have work'd his Info- lence to rare Order. Now, if you can but (land it out as ftoutly with mv Lady, our Buflnefs is done. Sir Gilb. It ! will you ftand by me ? Fran. Will you give me your Authority, Sir, to handle her roundly, and make her know who ought to be her Mafter ? Sir Gilb. My Authority ! ay, and Thanks into the Bargain come along, 111 fend for the Lawyer now — Mr. Frankly, my Blood rites at her, Hie fhall find I'll vindicate the Honour of the City, and, from this moment, demoliih her Petticoat-Government. Fran. Well faid ; I'll warrant you, Sir. [Exeunt. Vol. II. Lll "ACT 442. Tfo Refusal; or, ACT V. Sir Gilbert and Frankly. Sir C7/7£.5Pf*||gY dear Frankly, I could not reft till I had thee fir^lfl alone again ; thou haft gain'd upon me for ever; ■ .--. \'_,j£ your vindicating the Husbands Authority, and taking my Wife a Peg lower before my Face, has tickled my Fancy to that degree, that, odzooks I could wifh in my Heart thou hadft been married to her. Fran. O ! I fhould be loth to have robbed you, Sir, of that Happinefs. Sir Gilb. A hum ! you are right, you are right ; I did not think of that indeed : Well ! it's a very odd thing now, that a Wife will fooner be kept under by any Man than her Husband : Why the duce cant I govern her io I Fran. There's no great Secret in the matter, Sir ; for, take any Couple in Chriftendom, you will certainly find, that the more trou- blefome of the two is always Head of the Family. Sir Gilb. By my troth, I believe", you are right ; and fince the War is begun, I'll make a fair Pufh for't. I am refolv'd now to thwart her in every thing ; and if Granger has but Wit enough to talk Sophronia into her Senfes, that is, if he can but convince her that fhe is Fleih and Blood, and born to breed, like other Wo- men ; odzooks ! he ifiall marry her immediately: I'll plague her Ladyfhip that way too. Fran. That way ! O \ ay, it's true : for I think I have heard you fay, Sir, that if either of your Daughters die unmarried, my Lady is to inherit their Fortunes, Sir The Ladies Philofophy. 443 Sir Gilb. Ay, ay, there the Shoe pinches, Man ; flic would be as much an Enemy to Granger, as ihe is to you, if fhe could in the lead fufpect he would ever make any thing of it with So- phronia. Fran. And, if I don't miftake, Sir, Granger is in a fair way there too ; for, to my knowledge, he has been lock a up with her this half Hour, here in her Library. ■ Sir G'db. The Dickens ! Fran. Did not you obferve them fteal off together juft after the Mufick? Sir Gilb. I wonder'd, indeed, what was become of them ; by the Lord Harry I am glad of it 1 muft have a Peep at them [Goes to the Key-hole ^\ Odfo 1 they are juft a coming forth. Fran. We had beft be out of the way then, that we may not difturb them. Sir Gilb. No, no, I'll warrant you : Prithee let us (land behind this Skreen, and obferve what paifes. Fran. Quick ! quickly then ; here they come. [They retire. Enter Granger and Sophronia. Soph. O Granger ! (till preferve this Purity, And my whole Soul will open to receive thee : Forget, like me, thy Sex, how fweetly may We pafs our Days in rational Defire. Thou feed I own, without a Blufb, my Love, For Blufhes only rife from guilty Flames ; When Confcience driven, reluctant to the Crime, Leaps to the Face, and marks the Cheek with Shame : But the chaite Heart, iiiblim'd by purer Fires, Knowing no confciousFear, Referve, or Guile, Cives, with unbounded Franknefs, all its Store, And only blufhes that it gives no more. Gran. Hear this ! ye bright immortal Choirs above, And own that human Souls, like you, can love. Sir Gilb. Heyday ! this is downright Love in a Tragedy : Well ! he's a comical Thief. Fran. Hufh ! let him go on, Sir. L 1 1 1 Soph. 444 ^Refusal; or, Soph. Can yon forgive the tedious Banifhment, Which my Diftruft and Dread impos'd on you ? Gran, tan I reproach you for fo juft, fo kind A Fear ? While, through the general Race of Man, A fenfual and infectious Pailion rages, Giving, from Sex to Sex, the mortal Tainture. Can I complain, if, to preferve yourfelf From the Contagion, you've, perhaps, enjoin A The Healthy to perform his Quarantine ? But landing thus, upon my native Soil, I leave my Sufferings pad behind, and think The Prefent now is all that's left of Time, Or worth my Care. Soph. Blufli! blufh ! ye bafe degenerate World, That boaft the Blifs of grofs connubial Love : Can you wear human Forms, yet fee the prone, The brute Creation, equal your Defires ? Had you or Souls, or Senfe refin'd, you'd form Your Wiffies worthy your fuperior Being j' Curb with Imperial Reafon, lawlefs Nature, And reach, like us, the Joys of Love Seraphick. Gran. O Harmony of Hearts ! O fpotlefs Pailion ! . Here, on this Hand, the Altar of my Vows, I offer up my purer Part, my Soul To thine, and fwear inviolable Soph. Hold ! PaiTions, like ours, no formal Vows require ; . For Vows, fuppofe Ditlruft, or faithlefs Love y The frail Security of fenfual Flames ; But where the Pure, with the Pure Soul unites, The fimple Hand, thus given, and receiv'd, f unices. Gran. Let then this Hand my fpotlefs Heart refign. Soph. Thus, in exchange, I blend my Soul with thine. Sir Gilb. So ! they are got to Hand and Heart already ; but now, now for a Touch at the reft of her Premifes. Fran. Nay, dear Sir, be eaiy. Sir Gilb. Well ! well ! I will. Soph. The Ladies Philofophy. 44c; Soph. And now no more Sophronia, but thy Friend j Be both my Name and Sex from hence forgotten. Gran. No j Let me remember ftill, that thou art fair ; For were there no Temptation in thy Beauty, Where were the Merit of fuch hard Reilftance ? Indeed, my Friend, 'tis hard ! 'tis hard Refiftance ! The Organs of my Sight, my Ear, my Feeling,. As I am made of human Mold, in fpite Of me, exert their Functions, and are pleas'd ; I view thee with Delight, 1 hear with Tranfport, And thy Touch is Rapture Soph. How fares my Friend ? Gran. Like the poor Wretch that parches in a Fever, , With fatal Third, yet begs for prefent Eafe To drink, and die Soph. From whence this new Diforder ? Gran. Tell me, Sophronia, is my Virtue blameful, , Becaufe my Senfes act as Nature bids them ? Am I in fault, if the (harp Winter's Froft Can chill my Limbs, or Summer's Suns will icorch them ? What Matter can reiift the Elements ? Rivers will freeze, and folid Mountains bum ; What Bodies will not change ,? — —Thus the tall Oak ' Though from our meaner Flames fecure, ' Muft that, which falls from Heaven, endure. Soph. Where has he learn'd this Art of unoffending Flatten - ? [Afid?. Gran. Canft thou reproach me then, if while thy Beauties, With fuch a Blaze of Charms invade my Senfe, My human Heart's not Proof againft their Power ! Soph. Reproach thee! No; Bodies are but the Shells. Or liuts, that cover in the Soul, and are, . Like other Fabricks, fiibject to Mifchance : The Cells of Hermits may be fir'd ; but none Reproach the Wretch, that fufFers by the Flame. ■ Gran, 446 The Refusal; or, Gran. O Sophronla ! canft thou forgive me then, That my material Diofs thus burns before thee ? That my whole Frame thus kindles at thy Beauty ■? And even warms my Soul with fondDellre ? Like an impatient Child it languifties, And pines for Wants unknown ; it fighs, it pants, To be indulgd upon thy friendly Bofbm, To fold thee in my tender Arms, to talk, And gaze, with mutual fort Benevolence Of Eyes, as Giving were our only Pleafure. Sir Glib. Adod ! I believe, he's in earneft, he makes me half in love to hear him. Soph. Is it potfible ? Can then . Such Softnefs mingle with corporeal Pailion ? S Gran. But while my Soul alone is fuffer'd to Poilefs, and bars my mortal Part from Joy -, My poor repining Senfes murmur at Their Fate, and call thy Purity unjuft, To ftarve the Body, while the Mind knows Plenty j Yet, like a Churl, engrolTes whole the Feaft. My Senfes claim a fhare from Nature's Law; They think, with a more melting Softnefs, they Could love, and even inform the Soul with Rapture. Sir Giib. Ay ; now ! we begin to work her. Gran. Confider them, as part of me, thy Friend, Thy Friend may fure be truited with thy Pity ! O ! relieve them ! <*ive me fome Sisn at leait, One kind Embrace, or a chafte Sifter's Kils, In certain Proof that thou art frill my Friend, That yet thou hateft me not 1 ask no more. Soph. Pignora certa petis? do Pignora cert a T'imendo. Gran. Does then thy Fear alone refufe me ? O Sophronia. Why, why muft Virtue be this Foe to Nature ? Why let our Senfes, with our Souls, at variance, As Heaven had form'd thee fair to kill thy Friend ? Soph. What means my throbbing Heart ? O Virtue ! now J Now fave me from unequal Nature's Power ! Now The 'Ladles Philofophy. 447 Now guard me from myfelf -and hide my Shame ! Gran. Muff: I then perifli? will my Friend forfake me ? Soph. O Granger ! I am loll; thou haft undone me ! I am fallen, and thou wilt hate me now. Gran. O Sophronia ! Soph. Lend me thy Arm, fupport me ! Thy melting Plaints have ftole upon my Heart, And (often me to Wifhes never known before. Gran. O the tumultuous Joy ! [She finks into his Arms. Sir Gilb. Ah ! dead ! dead ! we have her Boy ! we have her ! Gran. See how Aie pants ! How, like a wounded Dove, fhe beats her Wings, And trembling hovers to her Mate for Succour ? O the dear Confullon ! Awake, Sophronia f Now wake to new and unconceivd Delights, Which faint Philofophy could never reach, Which Nature gave thee Charms to tafte, and give. Soph. O ! I could wifh, methinks, for every Power, . That might have Charms, for thee : Thy Words, Like Hjbla Drops, diftill upon my Senfe, " And I could hear thee talk for ever. Gran. O ! be but thus tor ever kind, thy Eyes Will find new Subjects for eternal Talk, And ever-laftino Love : Blufh not, my Fair, That thou art k.nd ; thy Heart has only paid To Love, the Tribute due from Nature's whole Creation }■ For Wifdom to his Power oppos'd, is Folly : Hear how the Britifo Virgil lings his Sway ; ' Thus every Creature, and of every Kind, 4 The iecret Joys of mutual Pallion find ; * N ; only Man' r ; Imperial Race, but they 4 That wing the liquid Air, or fwim the Sea; 4 Or haunt the Defarr, rulh into the Flame ; 4 For Love is Lord ofAU, and is in All the fame.' [Ex. Gran, and Soph. Sir Gilb. O rare Philofophy ! O fine Philofophy \ dainty Phi- lofophy! ho! longing. Bran,- 448 The Refusal; or, Fran. Hah ! ha ! ha ! that muft be a pleafant fort of Philofo- phy indeed, Sir, that pretends to be wifer than Nature. Platonick Love> is a mere Philofopher's Stone; when different Sexes once come to lay their Heads together about it, the Projection's fure to fly: in Fumo. Sir Gilb. Fumo I ay, I warrant you. A handfome Wench, that fhuts herielf up, two or three hours, with a young Fellow, only out of Friendfhip, is making a hopeful Experiment in Natural Philofophy indeed Why it's juft like fpreading a Bag of Gun- powder before a great Fire, only to dry it : Ha ! ha ! ha ! Fran. Right, Sir It puts me in mind of the Irijh Soldier, who, to fleal Powder out of a full Barrel, cunningly bored a hole in it with a red-hot Poker. Sir Gilb. Ah ! very good ! ha ! ha ! ha ! As you fay, it's hard luck indeed, that her mil Touch of his Hand fhouid blow up all the reft of her Body. Fran. But to do her Juftice, Sir, fhe was not won without a good deal of Art neither : A plain Battery of Love would have done nothing upon her ; you lee, he was forced to fap her with his Self-Reproaches, and put it all upon the point of her Com- paflion to his Senies. Sir Gilb. Nay, the Toad did worm her nicely, that I muft needs fay. Fran. Ha! ha! ha! what a rare Welcome too this News will have with my Lady ? how fhe will fume at the Difappointment ? Sir Gilb. Nay, I have nothing to do with that, you know ; this was none or my doing: let every Tub ftand upon its own Bot- tom ; I fhall e'en leave her Ladyfhip to his Management : All I can promife him, is, not to hinder the Matter. Fran. That's all he will defire, I dare fay, Sir : be you but as pallive in his Affair as mine, I'll warrant we will find Courage e- nough between us to maintain our Pretenfions. Sir Gilb. Ay ! there you are right again : flick to your Stuff, Boys ; and if I don't ftand by you, may I be Cock of the hen- peck'd Corporation as long as I live. Enter The Ladies Philosophy. 449 Enter a Servant. Ser. Sir, here's Mr- Delay the Lawyer. Sir Glib. Odtb ! that's well ! Now' Mr. Frankly Fran. I believe, Sir, you hud beft keep him out of my Lady's fight, till Matters are ripe for Execution. Sir Gilb. You are right, you are right fay no more, I'll do it. [Ex. Sir G. Fran. So ! thus far we ftand fair; we have nothing now to com- bat but my Lady ; and Grangers Succefs with Sopbronia, at this time, will naturally ftrengthen our Alliance againit her : As for my Friend Witling, his own AlTurance and Vanity will partly do his Buiinefs But however, in the mean while, it will not be amifs to keep him warm and ripe for our Defign A Fropos ! here he comes. Enter Witling. Wit. Ha ! ha • ha '• Dear Tom ! I am glad I have found thee, Faith ' I have a Favour to beg of thee. Fran. Why then, I am glad you have found me too becaufe, I believe, 1 lhall not, grant it. Wit. Ha ! ha ! what crabb'd ftill, my Dear! but I come to thee from a fair Lady, Child, and 'tis for her fake I am going to be obliged to thee. Fran. I am crlad of that too : A Woman of Senfe, I warrant her, by her fending thee on a Fool's Errand. Wit. Av, but my Dear ! the Errand happens, to be hers now ; and lb thou haft civilly put the Fool upon the Woman of Senfe : Good again ! one of thy old Blunders, Tom ! for, I think thou haft but curled Luck in making thy way to the Women. Fran. When you tell me the Lady you come from, I (hall be better able to guefs, whether fhe takes me or you for a Fool. Wit. Suppole then it were from a Lady, Tom, that defigns to take either you or me for a Husband ? What dolt thou think of my little Charlotte, my dear Tommy ? Fran. Why, it fhe takes thee for a Husband, I fhall think her a Fool ; and if I fhould take thee for a Wit, fhe would think me a Vo l. II. M m m Fool : 4 ^o The Refusal; or, Fool : But by her fending thee to ask a Favour of me, it's a fign fhe thinks thee a Fool. Wit. Ha ! ha ! a very pretty parcel of crofs Purpofes ! of Fool and Wit, and Wit and Fool ; and fhe and thee, and me ! What ! art thou playing at Huftle-cap with thy Words, Child ? Thou doft not expect I fhould take all this Jingle-Jumble for Wit, doft thou ? Fran. No Faith • if it be Wit, I expect thou fhouldft not take it. Wit. With all my heart : Come, come, it fhall be Wit then ; I will miftake it for once But to Bufinefs The fair Lady, my dear Tom. Fran. Ay, what of her I Wit. Why, poor Soul, fhe defired me to come to you, and — Fran. And leave her to better Company, ha • Wit. Look you, Tom, I know Lofers ought to have leave to fpeak, and therefore, at prefent, you fhall have all the Wit to yourfelf, my Dear : but don't be uneaiy at my Happinefs, dear Tom ; for to tell you the truth, the Creature is fo curled fond of me, that fhe begins to grow troublefome already. Ha ! ha ! ha I Fran. Why don't you make yourfelf eafy then, and give her up to me ? Wit. No, no ; I muft not break the poor Fool's Heart neither z for you muft know, fhe is in a terrible taking about me... Fran. How (o, Sir ? Wit. Why fhe faid, juft now, fhe was afraid to marry me (o foon as to-night, upon thy account. Fran. Good ! then there may be hopes fhe will not marry thee, upon any account. Wit. No, don't flatter thyfelf neither, my dear Tommy ; for her Concern at the bottom was all, upon my account. Fran. How does that appear ? Wit. Why you know, fays fhe, after all, poor Frankly has fome fort of Pretentions to me : I don't know how it was, fays fhe ; but fome way or other he got in with my Father : ib I durft not whol- ly difcourage his Addreffes. Now Frankly s of a furly Temper, fays fhe; and, if I fhould marry you in the Heat of his Dilap- pointment, he may fay or do fome rafh thing upon't : And I know, lays fhe, Mr. Witling, you are violent in your Nature too ; and if Matters The Ladies Philofophy. 4^ 1 Matters ihould rife to a Quarrel, nobody knows where the Mit chier may end ; the World would certainly lay it all at my door 1 ihould be the miferableft Creature alive- therefore 1 be" you, lays fhe, go to him from me, and trv to make an amicable End or the Buiinefs ; and the Moment poor Frankly s made eafy, fays fhe, I'll marry you, the next Hour, without any Referve in the whole World. Fran. Why then, without any Referve in the whole World, pray tell the Lady, that ilie may depend upon it I am certainly eafy becauie I am fure fhe impofes upon you. Wit. Impofe upon me, Child ■ ha ! ha ! that's pleafant enough, ha ! ha \ Fran. That is, fhe lets you impofe upon yourfelf, which is the fame thing. Wit. That may be, Tom ; but the Devil take me if I can find it out : But however, I am mighty glad you do, becauie then I am fure, as long as you are eafy, you can't take it ill, if I ihould burft my Ribs with laughing at your Fancy. Fran. O ! not in the ieaft ! and to increafe your Mirth, Sir, I will be farther bold to tell you, fhe has as hearty a Contempt for you, if polTible, as I have. Wit. Good again ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Fran. Thou art a thing fo below all human Confederation, thou haft not wherewithal to give a Spaniard Jealoufv. Wit. Ah ! poor Tom, if thou didft but know all now ! Ha ! ha ! Fran. But to think thvfelf agreeable to her, thou muft have the Impudence or a French Harlequin. Wit. Ah ! dear Tom, thou charm'ft me ! for iince I find thou art not, in the leaft, uneafv at her Engagement with me, to tell thee the truth, I have nothing elfe at prefent that can poilibLy retard my Happinefs. Fran. Why then, Sir, be as happy as you deferve ; and pray let the Lady know, as to any Favour fhe defigns you, I am in perfect Peace oi Mind and Tranquillity. Wit. And you really give me leave to tell her Co ? Fran. Tell her, I am more eafy than fhe herielf will be, when fhe has married you. M mnu Wit. 4^2 The Refusal ; or, Wit. Why then perifh me, if thou art not one of the beft-bred Rivals in the whole World ! ha ! ha ! And here ihe comes, Faith, to thank thee for her part of the Coniolation. Ha ! ha ' Bran. Ha '• ha ! Enter Charlotte. Char. So, Gentlemen, I am glad to find you in fuch good Hu mour. Wit. O '• Madam, the deareft Friends in the World : I have obey'd your Commands, and here's honeft Tom is (o far from be- ing uneafy at our Marriage, that I-gad I can't get him to believe it will ever come to any thing. Char. O ! as to that, Mr. frankly may think as he pleafes ; but if he is not uneafy upon your account, that's all I pretend to de- fire of him. Wit. No, no, honeft Tom will give us no trouble, depend upon t. Fran. Not I, upon my Honour, Madam ; for though I might be provoked to cut any other Man's Throat, that iliould pretend to you, yet the Value I have for Mr. Witling, fecures him from my leaft Refentment. Wit- Look you there, Madam ! You fee your Fears are all over -, I don't find we have any thing to do now, but to fend for the Par (on. Char. Ay, but I don't well underftand him; for he feems to be neither jealous of your Merit, nor my Inclination : and that I can fcarce think poflible. Bran. You may, upon my Soul, Madam ; for I have fo juft a Senfe of both, that if it had not been in regard to your Father's Contract, I am convinced you would never have endured the fight ot him. Wit. Ah ! poor Tom I he has much ado to (mother it. [Apart. Char. Very pretty ! (o you think that my admitting his Addref fes is meer Grimace, and that I am all this while taking pains only to deceive Mr. Witling. Fran. Alas! you need not do that, Madam; he takes (b much to deceive himfelf, he really gives you no trouble about it. Wit. You fee, Child, we may put any thing upon him. Char. The Ladies Philosophy. 4^3 Char. Right ! you take it as I could wifh ! Let me alone with him- And lb, Sir, you really expect I fliould be pleas'd with your having this free Opinion of my Conduct ? Fran. I muft be pleated with every thing you undertake in my Favour, Madam. Wit. How vain the Rogue is too I [Afide. Char. I am amaz'd ! but how naturally a Coxcomb {hews him- fel£ ^ [Afide. Wit. Ay, that's when he is in your hands, Madam : Ha ! ha ! I-gad fhe plays him nicely off! [Afide. Char. After this, one fhould wonder at nothing ! Nay, there are fome Fools, I fee, whofe Vanity is To far from being offensive, that they become diverting even to a Rival. Fran. Mr. Witling is always entertaining, Madam. Wit. Hah • Prodigious ! I-gad he thinks you mean me all this while. Ha ! ha ! ha ! [Apart. Char. Well, fure there never was Co bright a Coxcomb ! [Apart. Wit. I-gad I'll humour him : Ha ! ha ! [Apart. Char- By all means, you will make him fhine to a Miracle. [Apart.. Wit. Why then perifh me, Tom, if ever I was Co well diverted at a French Comedy. [Shakes his Hand. Fran. That may very well be, Sir; for Fools are apt to be fond of their own Parts. [Shakes Witling j Hand. Char. Ha ! ha ! Wit. Ay ! Co they are, the Devil take me ; for, I lee ? there's no beating thee out or thine. Fran. How fhould I be out, when you play all the Scene yourfelf ? Wit. No, no, Tom, I only laugh all ; but 'tis your Part that makes me, Child. Fran. Right ! if you did not laugh, where the Devil fhould the Jeft be ? Wit. Why then, you fee, I do the Fool Juftice, Tom. Ha ! ha ! Fran. Ay, the Devil take me, doft thou; I never law him bet- ter acted. Wit. Ah ! but you don't know, my Dear, that to make a Cox- comb fhine, requires a little more Wit than thou art aware of. Froth 4^4 The Refusal; or, Fran. I know that he, who has leaft Wit of us too, has enough to do that, my Dear. Wit- Ay ! that is when a Coxcomb fhews himfelr^ Tom. Fran. Nay, in that I grant no Mortal can come up to thee. Wit. Hah ! ha ! ha • O ! dear Rogue, I muft kifs thee. Omnes. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Enter Lady Wrangle and Charlotte. L. Wr. Your Servant, your Servant, good People : Whence all this mighty Mirth, pray ? Wit. O! Madam, here has been fuch a Scene! fuch Hit and Daili upon one another ; in fhort, fuch Brightnefs o' both fides, the Full Moon, in a trolly Nic;ht, never came up to it. Char. I mull needs fay, I never faw Mi: Witling fhine fo before. Fran. No, Madam ! why he always talks like a Lunatick, as you now may judge by his Similies. Wit. Ah ! poor Tom ! thy Wit indeed is, like the Light of the Moon, none of thy own : If I don't miftake, my Dear, I was forced to fhine upon thee, before thou wert able to make one Reflection. Fran. There you are once in the right ; for I certainly could not have laugh'd, if you had not given me a hearty Occafion. Wit. Ay, out the Cream of the Jeft is, Tom, that at the fame time I really gave thee no Occafion at all. Fran. Right again, my Dear ; for your not knowing that, is the only Jeft that's worth laughing at. Both. Ha! ha! ha! L. Wr. This muft be fome extraordinary Miftake indeed ; for I have no Notion that Mr. Frankly and you can have reafon to laugh upon the fame Occafion. Wit. Why, Faith ! the Occafion is a little extraordinary ; for you muft know, Madam, that honeft Tom and I here, are both going to be married to this Lady. L. Wr. Both! Wit. Ay both, Madam ; for, it feems, Die has not been able to convince us, that either of us muft go witiiout her, L.Wr. The Ladies Philofophy. 499 L. Wr. That's Co like Mr. Frankly s Vanity, that can't think his Miftrefs loft, tho he fees her juft tailing into the Arms of Ins Rival. Fran. My Vanity and yours, Madam, are much upon a foot ; tho I think you happen'd to be firft cured of ir. L. Wr. What do you mean, Sir ? Fran. That by this time you are convinced I was never in love with your Ladylhip. L. Wr. I am convinced, that a very little trouble would have made you (o. Fran. It mull have been a good deal more than it coil: me, to make you believe Co. L. Wr. If you have ftill Hopes of marrying Charlotte, Sir, I don't wonder at your believing any thing. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Fran. Laugh when you lee me defpair, Madam. L. Wr. I need not ftay for that, your Hope is ridiculous enough : and I laugh, becaufe you can't lee. Fran. Yes, yes, I can fee, Madam; I have feen all this day what 'tis you drive at : In Oiort, Madam, you have no mind that either ot Sir Gilbert's Daughters lhoiild marry ; becaufe if they die Maids, you iiave leaned the Chance of fucceeding to their Fortunes. L. Wr. Ay, do make the World believe that, if vou can : Per- fuade Mr. Witling, that I have no mind Charlotte Ihould marry him. Fran. What Mr. Witling thinks, is out of the queftion, Madam; but you are fure that fhe never defigns to marry him : fo that your letting up his Pretentions is not with the leaft View of doing him good, but of doing me harm ; or rather, that while vou manage the Difpute veil on both fides, neither of us may have her. L. Wr. He has guefs'd the Secret ; but that fhall not hinder my Proceeding. You are in the right to hope as long as you can, Sir ; but I presume you don't do it from my Friendlhip, nor Tsli.Wran- - gles Content, or Charlottes Inclination. Fran. Be it what it will, Madam, it has a better Foundation, than your Hope or fucceeding either to her's or Sophrcmas Fortune : For fhall I tell you another Secret, Madam ? Sophronia is going to 4^6 The Refu sal ; or, to be married to Granger ; fo that you are equally like to be dif- appointed there too. L. Wr. Sophronia married ! Fran. Ay, ay, married, married, Madam.; wedded, bedded, made a mere Wife of; 'tis not half an hour ago fince I law her fink, and melt into his Bofom with all the yielding Fondnefs of a Milk-maid. L. Wr. Sophronia do this ? Fran. Sophronia, Madam ; nay, Sir Gilbert was, at the fame time, a fecret Witnefs of all ; and was glad, glad of it, Madam ; and, to my certain knowledge, refolves that Granger ihall marry her in- ftantly : And io } Madam, all that fantaftick F ort-Philofophy, that you have been building in her Brains for feven Years too;echer, is (with one hone ft Attack of mere Flefh and Blood) fairly demo- lifh'd and brought to nothing. L. Wr. I'll not believe it, I know your Ears deceiv'd you ; he might, perhaps, tranfport her, but never to a fenfual Thought. Fran. Oons ! Madam, I tell you, I heard, and law it all my- felf ; faw her fighing, blufhing, panting in his Arms, with mor- tal, fenfual, amorous Defire : All her romantick Pride reduc'd, and humbled to the Obedience of that univerfal Monarch of Mankind, Love, Madam ; plain, naked, natural Love, Love, Madam. L. Wr. I am confounded ! if this be true, his Triumph is in- iupportable. [Afide.] Ha ! what do 1 fee ! Enter Granger, leading Sophronia. Fran. Dear Granger ! I congratulate thy Happinefs ! Gran. My Happineis indeed ! for, till I was victorious, I knew not half the Value of my Conqueft. Fran. [To Soph.] Give me then leave to hope, Madam, that our former Difference is forgot ; fince the more elevated Paflion of my Friend, has now convincd me of my ownUnworthinefs. Soph. I cannot difavow my tendereft Senfe ot Grangers Merit, give it what name you pleafe ; I own 'tis fomething Quod ne- queo dicer e, & jentio tantum : But am ftill proud to boaft, that Love -alone, unaflifted by Pnilofophy, could never have fubdu'd me. L. Hr. The Ladies Philofophy. 4^7 L. Wr. Is it poffible ! By your leave, Madam. [She breaks thro the Company, and [takes Soph, apart. Fran. Heyday ! what's to do now ? Gran. O Frankly ! I have fiich a melting Scene to tell" thee ! Fran. You may {pare yourfelf the Trouble ; Sir Gilbert and I overheard every word of it But I allow you \Afide. an Artift. Gran. Was not it very whimfical ? Fran. Hufh ! L. Wr. [To Soph.] Look in my Face full upon me. Soph. Why that fevere Look, Madam ? L. Wr. To make you blufh at your Apoftacy. Soph. Converts to Truth are no Apoftates, Madam. L. Wr. Is this your Self-Denial ? This your Diftafte of odious Man ? Soph. Madam, I have confider'd well my Female State, and am now a Profelyte to that Philofophy, which fays Nature makes nought in vain. L. Wr. What's then become of your Platonick Syltem ? Soph. DiiTolv'd, evaporated, impracticable, and fallacious all : You 11 own I have labour'd in the Experiment, but found at laft, that to try Gold in a Crucible of Virgin- Wax, was a meer Female Folly. L. Wr. But how durft you, Madam, entertain a Thought of Marriage without acquainting me? Soph. Madam, I am now under this Gentleman's Protection ; and, from henceforth, think my Actions only cognizable to him. L. Wr. Very fine ! Fran. Ay, ay, Madam, 'tis but fretting your Spleen to no pur- pofe ; you have no Right to difpofe ot either of thofe Ladies : Sir Gilbert's Confent is what we depend upon ; and as far as that can go, we fhail make bold to infifl upon them both, Madam ; and i'o you may as well put your Pailion in your Pocket, Madam. Vol. II. Nnn L. Wr. 4$ 8 The Refusal; or, L. Wr. Infupportable ! [Walks in dinger. Wit. Ha ! ha ! well faid, Tommy ! What art thou crack-brained ftiil, my Dear } . How the Devil didft thou come by Sir Gilts Confent ? What ! he has not mortgag'd it twice over, has he ? but if he has, with all my Heart. I fancy we fhall find a way to make his fir ft Deed ftand good however j and that, I am fure, I have here fafe in my Pocket, Child. Fran. O ! that fhall be try'd prefently, Sir; and here he comes with the Lawyer for the purpofe. Enter Sir Gilbert, with a Lawyer. L. Wr. Mr. Wrangle, what do you mean by this Uiage ? How dare you affront me thus ? Sir Gilb. I affront you ! my Lady. L. Wr. Ay, Sir, by bringing thefe Royfters here, to infult me in my own Family. Sir Gilb. Frankly ftand by me. Gran. Royfters ! Madam. L. Wr. Sir, I am not fpeaking to you 1 fay, Mr. Wrangle, how dare you do this ? Sir Gilb. Do, Madam ! I don't do any thing, not I ; if the Gentlemen have done any harm, you had beft talk to them ; I believe they have both Tongues in their Heads, and will be able to anfwer you. Fran. Ay, ay, Madam, if you have receiv T d any Injury from either of us, we are the proper Perfons to talk with you. L. Wr. What ! will you ftand by, and tamely fee me abus'd in my own Houfe I Sir Gilb. Odzines, Madam, don't abufe yourfelf ; the Gentle- men are civil Gentlemen, and Men of Honour ; but if you don't know how to behave yourfelf to them, that's none of their Fault. L. Wr. Prodigious ! behave myfelf: do you prefume to teach me, you rude illiterate Monfter ? Sir Gilb. Hold her faft, pray, Gentlemen. Gran. [Jnterpojing.^ Come, come, be compofed, Madam, con- fider how thefe violent Emotions difhonour your Philofophy. Sir The Ladies Philosophy. 4^9 Sir Glib. Ay, Madam, if you are a Philofopher, now let's fee a Sample of it. L. Wr. Yes, Sir, I'll give you one Inftance of it immediately ; before you ftir out of this Room, I'll make you do Juftice to this Gentleman, I'll make you keep your Contract, Sir. Sir Glib. Why, Madam, you need not be in a Paflion about that ; I don't deiign any other, I'll do him Juftice immediately. L. Wr. O ! will you fo ? come then, where's the Deed, Sir ? Wit. A hum ! your humble Servant ! how doeft thou do now, my little Tommy ? Fran. I'll tell you prefently, Sir. Wit. Ha ! ha ! I-gad thou art refolv'd to die hard, I find. Lazvy. Here, Madam, this is the Deed ; there is nothing want- ing but the Blanks to be filled up with the Bridegroom's Name : Pray which is the Gentleman . ? L. Wr. Here, Sir, this is he put in WiHiam Witling Efq; Sir Gilb. Hold, Madam, two words to that Bargain, that is not the Gentleman I have refolv'd upon. L. Wr. Come, come, Mr. Wrangle, don't be a Fool, I fay. Sir Gilb. And pray, Madam, don't you pretend to be wifei than I am. L. Wr. What ftupid Fetch have you got in your Head, now ? Wit. Heyday ! what time of the Moon is this ? Why have not I your Contract here in my Hand, Sir Gilbert ? Sir Gtlb. With all my Heart, make your beft on't ; I'll pay the Penalty, and what have you to fay now ? And (o, Sir, [To the Lazuyer~\ I lay put me in Thomas Frankly Efq; L. Wr. Mx.' Wrangle ! don't provoke me ! do you know that the Penalty of your refuting Mr. Witling, is above Six and Twen- ty Thou (and Pound Difference, Sir ? Sir Gilb. Yes, Madam : But to let you fee, that I am not the Fool you take me for neither ; there's that will fecure me againft paying a Farthing of it. [Sir Gilb. /hews a Bond, Nnnl L. Wr. 460 The Refusal; or, L. Wr. What do you mean ? Sir Gilb. Why that this, Madam, is a Joint-Bond from Mr. Grander and Frankly, to indemnify me from all Demands, CoftsJ and Confequences of Mr. Witlings Contract. [L. Wran. ferufes the Bond, Char. Now, Mr. Witling, you fee upon what a fhallow Foun- dation Frankly built all his Vanity and AfTurance But, poor Man ! he did not confider it was (till in my power to marry you, tho' you had 110 Contract at all with my Father. Wit. Right, my pretty Soul ! I fuppofe he thought the Merit, and frank Air of this Bond, forfooth, would have made you cockfure to him ; but I'll let him fee prefent- ly that I know how to pay a handfome Compliment to a fair Lady, as well as himfelf : I-gad, I'll bite his Head off. Char. Ay do, Mr. Witling, you touch my Heart with the very Thought ot it. Wit. Ah ! you charming Devil ! L. Wr. \To Sir Gilb.] is this then your Expedient ? Is this your fordid way of evading all Right and Juftice ? Go 1 you vile Scan- dal to the Board you lit at ; but you fhall find that I have a fupe- rior Senfe of Honour. And thus ! thus ! thus ! I'll force you to be juft. [Tears the Bond. Fran. Gonfufion ! Sir Gilb. Oons ! Madam ! what do you mean by this Outrage ? L. Wr- Now where's your Security I Where is your vile Evalion now, Sir ; what Trick ? what Shift have you now to lave you ? Sir Gilb. Frankly ftand by me. Fran. Was ever mch a Devil ? Gran. Fear nothing I'll warrant you Come, Sir, dont be diihearten'd, your Security fhall be renew'd to your Content : Let the Lawyer draw it up this inftant, and I give my word of Honour to lign it over again before all this Company. Sir Gilb. Sayft thou ib, my Lad, why then, odfheartlikins Frankly ftand by me. ft\m. The Ladies Philofophy. 461 Iran. Generous Granger I L. Wr. Let the Lawyer draw up any fuch thing in my Houfe, if he dares. Gran. Nay then, Madam, I'll fee who dares moleft him. Fran. I-gad, whoever does, ftiall have more than one to deal with. Sir Gilb. Well faid, ftand your Ground write away, Man. [To the Lawyer. Char. Now, My. Witling ! Wit. Nay, nay, if diat's your Play, Gentlemen come, come, I'll fhew you a fhorter way to make an end of this matter- and to let you fee that you are all in the wrong Box, and that now I am fecure of the Lady's Inclination, I think it a Difhonour to her Beauty, to make ufe of any other Advantage, than the naked Merit of her humble Servant- There, Sir Gilbert, there's your Contract back again, tear it, cancel it, or light your Pipe with it And now, Madam [To Charl. Char. Ay now, Mr. Witling., you have made me the happieft Creature living ! And now Mr. Lawyer Wit. Ay now, Gentlemen — Char. Put in Thomas Frankly Efq; Wit. Fire and Brimftone ! Fran. Ay now Mr. Witling — Sir Gilb. Odfheart! in with him L. Wr. Come, come, Mr. Wrangle- Sir Gilb. Oons ! Wife, be quiet- L. Wr. Wife ! what am I abus'd ! infulted then ! Sir Gilb. Ah Charlotte ! let me hug thee ! and bufs thee ! and blefs thee to death ! But here, Huily ! here's a Pair of Lips that will make better Work with thee ! Wit. Bit, by the Powers ! Char. Nay don't fay that of me, Mr- Witling ; 'twas even all your own doing : for you can't reproach me with having once told you I ever loved, or liked you : How then could you think of marrying me ? Wit. afiz The R e f u s a L ; or, Wit. Not reproach you, Madam ! Oons and Death ! Did not you as good as Fran. Hold, Sir, when you fpeak to my Wife, I muft beg you to lotten the Tone of your Voice a little- Wit. Heyday ! what a Pox mud not Lofers have leave to fpeak neither ? Fran. No, no, my dew Billy, thou art no Lofer at all; for you have made your Call, you fee and now have fairly had your Re fulal too. Wit. Ha ! ha ! that's pleafantly faid however, I-gad ! I can't help laughing at a good thing though, tho' I am half ready to hang myfelf. Fran. Nay then, Witling, henceforth I'll allow thee a Man of Parts, tho' at the fame time you muft grant me, there are no Fools like your Wits : But fince thou haft Wit enough to laugh at thy- (elf, I think nobody elfe ought to do it. Wit. Why then, dear Tom, I give thee Joy ; for, to fay the Truth, I believe I was a little overhafty in this matter: But, as thou iayft, he that has not Wit enough to find himfelf fometimes a Fool, is in danger of being Fool enough, to have nobody think him a Wit but himfelf. Fran. [To L. Wr-] And now, Madam, were it but poilible to deferve your Pardon. L. Wr. I fee you know my Weaknefs Submiflion muft prevail upon a generous Nature 1 forgive you. Sir Giib. Why, that's well faid of all fides : And now you are part of my Family, Gentlemen, I'll tell you a Secret that con- cerns your Fortunes Hark you in one word fell fell out as fail: as you can : for (among Friends) the Game's up ■ ask no Qiieftions but, I tell you, the Jeft is over — but Money down ! (d'ye obferve me) Money down ! don't med- dle for Time : for the Time's a coming, when thofe that buy will not be able to pay ; and fb the Devil take the hindmoft, and Heaven blefs you all together. Gran. The Ladies Philofophy. 463 Gran. And now, Sophronia, fet we forward to the promis'd Land of Love. Soph. In vain againft the Force of Natures Law, Would rigid Morals keep our Hearts in awe ', All our loft Labours of the Brain but prove, In Life, there s no Philofophy like Love. finis. s UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. »W *KIA D 000 001 356 5