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 PLAYS. 
 
 VOL. II- 
 
 58 
 
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 «PJ
 
 PLAYS 
 
 WRITTEN BY 
 
 Mr. C I B B E R 
 
 Vol. II. Containing, 
 
 The Lady's last Stake ; or, the Wife's Re- 
 sentment. 
 
 The Rival Fools. 
 
 The Heroick Daughter. 
 
 The Nonjuror. 
 
 The Refusal; or, The La dies Philosophy. 
 
 L O N D O N; 
 
 Printed for B. L i n t o t, at the Crojs-Keys between the Temple- 
 Gates, Beetftreet ; W. Mears, at the Lamb, without Temple- 
 Bar ; and W. Che t wood, at Catds-Head, Rttjfel-Jlreet, 
 Covent-Carden. M.dcc.xxi,
 
 17£1 
 
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 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/</. 
 
 Mifs Notable, 
 
 
 
 
 Mrs. Ch?/?. 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 LADY s Laft STAKE, 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 WIFE'S RESENTMENT. 
 
 A C T I. 
 
 SCENE, Lord Wronglove's Apartment. 
 
 Ld. IVrong. 
 
 M 
 
 Lord Wronglove alone, mnjing. 
 
 Y Wife as abundance of other Men of Qua- 
 lity's Wives are — — is a miferable Woman: 
 
 Alk her the Reafon, flieil tell you Huf- 
 
 1 fay, Wife all's entirely owing to her own 
 
 band, afk me 
 Temper. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Hartmorn. 
 
 Mrs. Hart/. My Lady defires to know if your Lordfnip pleafes 
 to fpear her the Chariot this Morning? 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Hah! That's as much as to fay, I have a mind to 
 guefs when, and how you go out thus Morning. \Aftde.\ Well, the 
 Chariot is at her Service. [Exit. Hard] This continual jealoufie is 
 infupportable What's to be done with her? What's her Com- 
 plaint? Who's the Aggreflbr ? I'll e'en refer the matter fairly to 
 my own Confcience, and if fhe cafb me there, I'll do her Ju- 
 fbice 5 if not, tho' the Cod were ten times hers, I'll make my felf 
 
 eafy, for the reft of my Life. Let me fee, as to the Fa& 
 
 I'm charg'd with, viz. That I have felonioully embezzled my In- 
 
 Vol. II. B clinations
 
 2 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 clinations among the rough and fmooth Converfation of feveral 
 
 undaunted Gentlewomen, and fo forth. That, I think, fince 
 
 it mud be prov'd againft me, I had bed plead guilty to.< Be it 
 
 fo.- — —Very well! A terrible Charge indeed : And now 
 
 Enter Brufh. 
 
 Brufh. My Lady defires to know if your Lordfhip pleafes to dine 
 at home to Day ? 
 
 Ld. fFrong. Right! Another gentle Enquiry, [sfy/de.] Why tell 
 her 'tis impolTible to guefs, but her Ladyfhip may do as fhe plea- 
 fes. [Exit Brum.] But to go on, Now let's hear the Defen- 
 dant, and then proceed to Judgment and Damages. Well ! the 
 Defendant fays, That 'tis true he was in love with Madam up to 
 her proud Heart's Willies, but hop'd that Marriage was his End of 
 of Servitude, that then her wife Referve, her Pride, and other fine 
 Lady's Airs wou'd be all laid afide. — No, — her Ladyfhip was ftill the 
 fame unconquer'd Heroine : If being endur'd cou'd give me Hap- 
 pinefs, 'twas mine,- if not, fhe knew her felf, and fhou'd not bend 
 below her Sexes Value — I bore this long, then urg'd her Duty ; that 
 this Referve of Humour was inconfiftent with her being a Friend, a 
 
 Wife, or a Companion. She faid 'twas Nature's Fault, and I but 
 
 talk'd in vain.— Upon this I found my Patience began to have 
 
 enough on't ; fo I e'en made her invinciblefhip a low Bow, and told 
 her, I wou'd difpofe of my time in Pleafures, which were a little 
 more comeatable ; which Pleafares I have found, and (lie — has 
 found out, but truly (lie won't bear it : And tho' fhe fcorn'd to love, 
 fhe'll condefcend to hate; fhe'll have Redrefs, Revenge, and Re- 
 paration ; fo that if I have a mind to be Eafie at home, I need but 
 tremble at her Anger, down on my Knees, confefs, beg Pardon, 
 promife Amendment, keep my Word, and the Bus'nefs is done. 
 
 Now venerable, human Confcience, (peak, mud I do this only 
 
 to purchafe what the Grcatnefs of her Soul has taught me to be in- 
 different to? Am I bound to fan 1 , becaufe her Ladyfhip has no Ap- 
 petite? Shall Threats and Brow-beatings fright me into Juftice, 
 
 where my own Will's a Law? No, no, no, positively no: — I'm 
 
 Lord of my own Heart fure, and whoever thinks to enter at my 
 
 Humour fh.ill (peak me very fair. -Molt generous Confcience, I 
 
 give you Thanks for this Deliverance!, And. fince I'm pofnive, I've 
 4 , little
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 3 
 
 little Nature on my fide too, Madam may now go on with her no* 
 ble Refentment as (he pleafes. 
 
 Enter Brum. 
 Brufh. Lord George Brilliant gives his Service, and if your Lord- 
 fhip's at Leifure he'll wait upon you. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Give my Service, fay I fhall be glad to fee him. 
 
 [Exit Brum. 
 D'ye hear! Brufh! [Brufh returns. 
 
 Brufh. My Lord! 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Is the Footman come back yet? 
 Brufh. Yes, my Lord, he call'd at White's, but there's no Let- 
 ter for your Lordmip. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Very well. [Exit Brufh. 
 
 I can't imagine the meaning of it, Sure I havn't play'd with this 
 
 Baby-fac'd Girl 'till I'm in love with her ; and yet her difappointing 
 me Yefterday does not flip fo eafily through my Memory, as things 
 
 of this gentle Nature us'd to do. A very Phlegmatick Symptome 
 
 — And yet, if (he had come, 'tis ten to one, the greateft Relief 
 fhe cou'd have given me, wou'd have been a fair Excufe to get rid 
 
 of her. — Hum! ay, ay, all's fafe. She has only ftirr'd my Pride 
 
 I find, my Heart's as found as my Conftitution, — and yet her not 
 coming, nor excufing it - y puzzles me. 
 
 Enter Brum. 
 Brufh. A Letter for your Lordmip. 
 Ld. Wrong. Who brought it. 
 Brufh. Snug the Chair-man. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. O ! 'tis right, now we mail be let into the Secret. 
 (Reads.) 
 
 / Wo'n't beg your Pardon for not coming Yefterday, becaufe it was 
 •*- not my Fault, but indeed I'm forty I could not. 
 Kind however, tho' 'tis poflible fhe may lye too. 
 
 To be fhort, old Teizer fmoaks the Buftnefs, pofs 
 
 By her Stile, the Child feems to have a great Genius for Iniquity : 
 But who the Duce is old Teizerl O! that mull be her Lmkle Sir 
 Friendly Moral/ Smoaks the Bufinefs, pofs / Very well. 
 
 For he watch' d me all Day, as if he had been in love with me 
 himfelj : But you may depend upon me this Afternoon, about fve 
 
 B 1 at
 
 4 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 at the fame Place, till when, dear Difinal, adieu. 
 
 [Tears the Letter. 
 Well faid! I gad, this Girl will debauch me! what Pity 'tis, her 
 
 Perfon does not fpread like her Understanding But (he is one of 
 
 Eve's own Sifters, born a Woman : Bid the Fellow flay for an An- 
 fwer. [Exit Brufli. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Hartfhorn. 
 
 Hart/. My Lady defires to know, if your Lordfhip pleads to 
 drink any Tea? 
 
 Ld. Wrong. [Afide.] What a Mefs of Impertinence have I had 
 this Morning: But I'll make my Advantage of this. Pray thank 
 your Lady, and tell her I defire (he'll be pleas'd to come and drink 
 fome with me. [Exit Hartf] When a Man has a little private Folly 
 upon his Hands, 'tis Prudent to keep his Wife in good Humour, at 
 leaft, till the Frailcy's thoroughly committed. [Exit.. 
 
 Enter Lady Wronglove and Brufh. 
 
 La. Wrong. Where's my Lord? 
 
 Brufh. I believe he's writing in his Clofet Madam ; if your La- 
 dy fhip pleafes I'll go fee. 
 
 La. IVrong. No, flay — I'll — I'll — wait without. 
 
 BrufJj. Jealous by Jupiter, I mud look fharp, I fee. [Retires'. 
 
 La. Wrong. Writing! then I am confirm'd! Not a Day paffes 
 without fome frefh Difcovery of his Perfidioufnefs — This ufr.ge is 
 beyond Patience — Sure Men think, that Wives are Stocks or Stones, 
 without all Senfe of Injuries, or only born, and bound to bear 'em! 
 But flnce his Villanies want the Excufe of my deferving them, I'll 
 Jet him fee I dare refent 'em, as I ought. I'll prove 'em fir ft, and 
 then Revenge 'em with my Scorn — Hum! what's here, a torn Let- 
 ter! ha! this Hand is new! O! my Patience! fome frefh, fome un- 
 difcover'd Slut! Here! Hart/loom/ 
 
 Enter Hartfhorn. 
 Go to the Door this Minute, and tell the impudent Fellow there, 
 that my Lord fays the Letter requires no Anfwer,- and if he offers 
 to bring any more, he'll have his Limbs broke. 
 
 Biti/h. [Behind.] Ha! this was a lucky Difcovery between my 
 Lord, or my Lady, it's hard if I don't mend my Place by it. 
 
 La. IVro;
 
 tljc Wife's Resentment. 5 
 
 La. Wrong. It is not yet Co torn, but I may read it — 'Twill coil: 
 
 his Wit fome Trouble to evade this Proof, I'm fure I'll have it 
 
 piee'd, and fend it him I'll let him fee 1 know him ftill A 
 
 bafe, a mean Auh! — now he's naufeous to me. 
 
 [Exit Lady Wrong. 
 Re-enter Lord Wronglove with a Letter. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Here, give this to the Porter. 
 
 Brufb. My Lord, the Porter's gone. [Smiling. 
 
 Ld. // 'rong. Gone! how fo! What does the Fellow fnear at? 
 
 Brrtftj. My Lord, I beg your Lordfhip's Pardon for my Boldnefs, 
 but perhaps it may be more ufeful to you than my Silence ; I law 
 fomething that happen'd jufl: now 
 
 Ld. Wrotw. What's the Matter? 
 
 Brufh. While your Lordfhip was Writing within, my Lady, I 
 fancy'd by her Looks, fufpe&ed fomething by Sn/ig's being at the 
 Door (for (he enquires every Mortal's Buimels that comes to (peak 
 with your Lordfhip) but here (lie came, and bid me go out of the 
 Room: Upon which I made bold to watch her at the Door, where 
 I faw her pick up the Pieces of that Letter your Lordfhip tore jaft 
 now ; and then fhe flew into a violent Paflion, and order'd t\n Por- 
 ter to be Tent away without his Anfwer. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. No Matter, you know where to find him ? 
 
 Brujh. Yes, my Lord, he plies at White's. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Run after him quick, tell him it was a Miftake, and 
 
 that's his Anfwer. [Gives a Letter.} [Exit Brufb.] Let me fee 
 
 I mall certainly hear of this Letter from my Wife ,• and 'cis proba- 
 ble her Pride will have as much Pleafure in Reproaching me, as 
 
 her good Nature wou'd in finding me Innocent 1 mud take 
 
 care not to let her grow upon me To bear the open Infolence 
 
 of a Wife is a Punilhmcnt, that exceeds both the Crime and the 
 
 Pleafure of any Favours the Sex can give us But why am I fo 
 
 apprehenfive of a poor Woman's being out of Humour? My Gra- 
 vity for the Matter wou'd be as Ridiculous as her Paflion The 
 
 word on't is, that in our Matrimonial Squabbles, one tide's general- 
 ly forced to make a Confidence with their Servants, I am redue'd 
 now to trull this Fellow But I can make it his InterctT: to be Se- 
 cret — - 
 
 Enter
 
 6 The Lady's Last Stake: Of, 
 
 Enter Hartfhorn with Tea. 
 Hartf. Here's your Lordfhip's Tea. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. O ! thank your Mrs. Hartfhorn Where's your Lady ? 
 
 Hartf. My Lord, (lie is nor very well, and dehYd me to give 
 
 your Lordlhip this. [Gives a Letter. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Soh! Now it comes — let's fee — Ha! The Child's 
 
 Letter Faith, carefully piee'd together again, how here's fome 
 
 of her own hand too. 
 (Reads.) 
 
 SOmething has happened that makes me unfit for Tea, I wou'd tell 
 you what, but that I find 'tis the Fafhion for married People to 
 have feparate Secrets. 
 
 Humph ! This is fpeaking pretty plain Now if I take no No- 
 tice of it, I fhall have her walk by me in the Houfe with a Dumb, 
 
 Gloomy Infolence for a Fortnight together Suppofe I let her 
 
 No better talk with her The mod violent Jealoufie is often 
 
 fubjecT: to the groffeft Credulity I'll make one Pufli for't however, 
 
 'tis certainly more Prudent to come off if I can Mrs. Hartfhorn, 
 
 pray tell your Lady I mufl needs fee her, I have fomething to fay 
 to her that will make her Laugh, though fhe was dying of the 
 Vapours. 
 
 Hartf. My Lord, I'll tell her. [Exit Hartf. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Or fuppofe her Jealoufie is too wife for my Wit, fay 
 {he won't be impos'd upon : At worft, I'll carry it on with fuch an 
 Excefs of Affurance, that I'll give her the Mortification of think- 
 ing, that I believe I have deciev'd her : She fhan't have the Pleafure 
 of knowing fhe infults me, I'll crufli the very Hope of her Refent- 
 mentj and by feeming always eafie my felf, make her Jealoufie a 
 private Plague to her Infolence! She (hall never catch me owning 
 any thing. Her Pride wou'd have its End indeed, if Hie cou'd once 
 bring me to the humble Shame of Confeflion— O (he's here! 
 
 Enter Lady Wronglove, very Grave, 
 La. Wrong. D'ye want me for any thing > 
 
 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<y Gentle's Houfe. 
 
 Lady Gentle, Lord Wronglove, and Lord George at a Tea-Table, 
 
 La. Gent. [To Lord Wrong.] Come! come, my Lord, you muft 
 {lay another Dim indeed. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. L T pon my Faith, Madam, my Bufinefs is of the laft 
 Concern ; your Ladyfhip knows I don't ufe to ftart from good 
 Company. \Afide. 
 
 La. Gent. Well! I e'en give you over, you grow perfectly good 
 for nothing. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. The Truth on't is, Madam, we fond Hufbands are 
 fit for nothing — but our Wives. 
 
 La. Gent. Come! none of your Raillery upon one that's too good 
 for you. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Why, me has fome high Qualities indeed, Madam, 
 that I confefs are far above my Merit, but I'm endeavouring every 
 Day to deferve 'em, as fail as I can. 
 
 La.Gent. Go, go! you deferve nothing at all, now you difob- 
 lige me. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. I mall take a better Opportunity to make my felf 
 amends for going fo foon, I am your Ladyfhip's mod humble Ser- 
 vant — Mrs. Conquejly pray take care of Lord George. 
 
 Mrs. Con. O ! he fhall want for nothing, my Lord, pray do you 
 take the fame Care of the Lady you are going to. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Ha! ha! ha! {Exit Lord Wronglove. 
 
 Ld. Geo. My Lord Wronglove is a very pretty Gentleman, and yet 
 how unaccountable 'tis to hear good Senfe jeft upon Marriage. 
 
 La. Gent. My Lord has fo much good Senfe, that he does not 
 mean what he fays, I dare fwear for him. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Indeed, Madam, I can't think he does, I never faw any 
 thing amifs in his Actions, either at Home, or Abroad. 
 
 La. Gent. Nor I indeed : And I think your Lordmip very much 
 to be commended ,• you love to put the faireft Conftrudion upon 
 things; it's a certain fign of good Senfe, and good Principles. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Your Ladymip has fo much of both, that I can't help 
 being Proud of any thing that recommends me to your Efteem. 
 
 La. Gent.
 
 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 La. Gent. Upon my Word, my Lord, you have a great (hare 
 on'r, and I think very defervedly : 'Tis not a common thing in 
 this Town, to find a Gentleman of your Figure, that has Courage 
 enough to keep Marriage in Countenance, eipecially when it's To 
 much the Mode to be fevere upon't. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Now that to me is an intolerable Vanity, to fee a Man 
 afham'd of being honourably Happy, becaufe 'tis the Fafhion to be 
 viciouily wretched 1 don't know how it may be with other Peo- 
 ple, but if I were married, I fhou'd as much Tremble to fpeak light- 
 ly of my Wife, as my Religion. 
 
 Mrs. Con. O! the hypocritical Monfter — When he knows I 
 know, [/f/ide.) if he were to be hanged, he'd fcarce think it a Re- 
 
 prive to be married There's Roguery at the bottom of all this 
 
 I'm lure The Devil does nor u(e to turn Saint: for nothing. 
 
 La. Gent. I am in hopes your Lordfhip's good Opinion of Mar- 
 riage will perfuade you not to be long out of it: We that feel the 
 Happincfs of a Condition our felves, naturally wifh our Friends 
 in it. 
 
 Mrs. Con. What do you think of me, my Lord, you know I 
 have been about you a great while. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Fy! fy! you marry! A meer Rake! 
 
 Mrs. Con. O but I fancy now, a Man of your Sobriety, and ftay'd 
 Temper wou'd foon reform me. 
 
 Ld. Geo. [/Iftde.'] This fubtle Devil fmoaks me! 'Ware Mo- 
 rals Faith It (hews her a little Jealous however. 
 
 Mrs. Con. I'll be whip'd if ever you marry more to your Mind ,• 
 what fignifies two or three thoufand Pound in ones Fortune, where 
 you are fure it wou'd be made up in good Humour and Obedience? 
 
 Ld. Geo. And confidering how intimate a Foot you and I have 
 always convers'd upon : What a venerable Figure ihou'd I make in 
 the folemn Authority of an Hulband pretending ro command you? 
 
 La. Gent. O! if you were married there wou"d be but one , 
 between you. 
 
 Ld. Geo. There's the Danger, Madam, being but one, we fhou'd 
 certainly Squabble, who ihou'd have it. I fhou'd, like Mrs. Con- 
 qnejly perhaps for my Wive's Companion : One as a light Allay to 
 the foftnefs of the others Temper : But if I were once fix'cl in 
 
 Love,
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 31 
 
 Love, and fhouM unfo 11 nely bole upon the leaft Gliinpfe of lca- 
 loufie, I am fuch a Slave to Tenderncfs, I know 'twould break my 
 Heart. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Now cou'd I warn his Face with my Tea. [/Ifide. 
 
 La. Gent. Well, I'm confident my Lord wou'd make an extreme 
 good Hulband. 
 
 Ld. Geo. I don't know but I really might, Madam, if I cou'd 
 perfuade any Woman befide your Ladyfhip to think fo. 
 
 Mrs. Con. [/f/ide.] How artfully the Monfter fcrues himfelf into 
 her good Opinion ; I muft take him down a little — Pray, my Lord, 
 how many Women have you had of late, by way of Balm, to heal 
 the llight wound I gave your 
 
 Ld. Geo. Upon my Faith, Madam, I had my Wound and Cure 
 from the fame Perfon : My Pallion for you went forward like Pe- 
 nelope's Web ; whatever your Eyes did in the Day, a very fhort Re- 
 flexion upon your Temper unravell'd at Night; fo that if you will 
 needs know the Truth, I have not been redue'd of late to apply 
 my felf for Relief to any body but your Ladyfhip. Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
 
 \Affetis an infulting Laugh. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Well, he has a glorious AlTurance! 
 
 Ld. Geo. I fancy Mrs. Con que ft ^ you meafure my Principles by 
 your own - y for by your Queftion you feem to think me a very wild 
 Creature. 
 
 Mrs. Con. O fy, my Lord! fo far from it, that I never faw any 
 thing fo aftonifhingly Modeft. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Not fo modeft neither, Madam, but if my Lady Gentle 
 will give me leave, 1 dare uie you moft intolerably for this. 
 
 La. Gent. Ev'n as you pleafe, my Lord, for I confefs her AlTu- 
 rance is enough to dafh any out of Countenance. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Does your Ladyfhip hear that, Madam ? Remember; 
 now, that I am allow'd the modeller Perfon - t but to let you fee, 
 that in a juft Caufe I fcorn to take the Advantage of my Chara- 
 cter j I'll lay it afide for once, and with an honeft Freedom tell you, 
 your Attempts upon me are vain ; you are Homely, d. 
 Homely j and if (lie were not a Kin to me, I wouM 
 my Grand- mother.
 
 32 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 Mrs. Con. Ah ! poor Soul ! every Body knows as well as my felf, 
 I am more than tolerably handfome: And (which you are ready to 
 tear your Flefh at) the whole Town knows you think Co. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Madam — did your Ladyfhip ever hear To tranfcendant 
 an Aiturance. 
 
 La. Gent. Nay, I'm on your fide, my Lord — I think you can't 
 be too free with her. 
 
 Ld. Geo. I'll tell your Ladyfliip what this Creature did once : 
 Such an Inftance of her Intrepid Self-fufficiency 
 
 La. Gent. Pray let's hear it. Ha, ha. 
 
 Mrs. Con. With all my Heart, I'll be heard too. 
 
 Ld. Geo. I'll tell you, Madam — About two Years ago I hap- 
 pen'd to make a Country- Vifit to my Lady Conquefi, her Mother, 
 and one Day, at the Table, I remember, 1 was particularly pleas'd 
 with the Entertainment, and upon Enquiry found that the Bill of 
 Fare was under the Direction of Mademoifelle here : Now it hap- 
 pen'd at that Time, I was my felf in want of a Houfe- keeper ; up- 
 on which Account I thought it wou'd not be amifs, if I now and 
 then paid her a little particular Civility: To be {hort, I fairly told 
 her, I had a great mind to have a plain good Houfe-wife about me, 
 and dropt fome broad Hints, that the Place might be hers for afk- 
 ing — Wou'd you believe it, Madam, if I'm alive, the Creature 
 grew fo vain upon't, fo deplorably miftook my Meaning, that fhe 
 told me, her Fortune depended upon her Mother's Will, and there- 
 fore (lie could receive no Propofals of Marriage without her Con- 
 fent : Ha, ha. Now after that unfortunate Blunder of hers, whe- 
 ther I ever gave my Lady the leaft trouble about the Bufmefs, I 
 leave to the fmall Remainder of her own Confcience. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Madam, as I hope to be married, the poor Wretch 
 fell downright in Love with me; for tho' he defign'd only to make 
 two Days (lay with us, it was above three Months before I was able 
 to get rid of him: When he came firfl indeed, he was a pretty fort 
 of a tolerable impudent young Fellow, but before he left us, (O the 
 power of Beauty!) I mod; barbaroufly redue'd him to a fighing, hum- 
 ble, downright Dullnefs and Modefty. 
 
 La. Gen. Ha, ha, Pray which of you Two am I to believe all 
 this while? 
 
 Ld. Geo.
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 33 
 
 Ld. Geo. Madam, if there's any Faith in ray Senfes, her only 
 -Charms then were, and are (till not in Raifing of Paflion, but Parte. 
 I own I did voracioufly admire her prodigious Knack, of making 
 Cheefcakes, Tarts, Cuftards, and Syllabubs, Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 La. Gen. Ha, ha, ha. 
 
 Mrs. Con. You fee, Madam, what 'tis to let him be never fo lit- 
 tle out of one's Hands : Now his very Modefty is Impudence: For to 
 deny his being in Love with me to another, is ten times more In- 
 folent, than his firft owning it to me. 
 
 La. Gen. Pfhah, Words lignifie nothing — Did he ever own it un- 
 der his Hand ? 
 
 Mrs. Con. His Hand! Ha, ha, ha, Madam — as I am a living 
 Creature, if I have One, I have Five hundred Billet-doux of his, 
 where he has confefs'd fuch Things of my Wit, and Parts, and my 
 Eyes, and my Air, and my Shape, and my Charms, that — Nay, 
 he tells me in One, I have more natural Beauties the moment I rife 
 out of my Bed in the Morning, than the whole Drawing-Room 
 upon a Birth-Day by Candle-light. There's for you. 
 
 Ld. Geo. And ilie believ'd it, Madam Ha, ha, ha, that's 
 
 well enough. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Why I believe (till you think fo Then every Line 
 
 of 'em is fo cramm'd with Sincerity, Sighs, Hopes, Fears, Flames, 
 Darts, Pains, Pangs, and Paflion, that in my Confcience, if a Bo- 
 dy were to fet 'em on fire, the Flame would never go out. 
 
 La. Gen. Well, if you are in Love, ho, this is certainly the new- 
 eft Way of Woing that ever was. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Whether I'm in Love or no, I leave to your Ladymip. 
 
 Mrs. Con. And if your Ladyfhip lliould give it againft him, whe- 
 ther or no, I have Reafon to be vain upon't let the World judge. 
 
 La. Gen. The World, I believe, will think better of you both, 
 when you're married. 
 
 Ld. Geo. In the mean time, I believe, our fureft Comfort will 
 be to think well of our felves, and let it alone. (All rife.) 
 
 Mrs. Con. I am glad to find you have Modefty enough to lup- 
 pofe* Marriage wou'd make us think worfe of one another. 
 
 Vol. II. E Ld. Geo.
 
 34- The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 Ld. Gm O fie! Mrs. Conqueft, the more \ 
 you are known, the more you muft be lik'd.'C „ , a ci ji 
 
 Mrs. Con. Is it then poffible that you cou'df •" 
 
 like me ? ) 
 
 La. Gen. Ha, ha. (Going to the Tea-Table.) 
 
 Ld. Geo. If it were poffible I cou'd like any Thing out of Matri- 
 mony, it wou'd be you. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Well, but tell me, do you like me as I am, how do 
 you know but you may perfiiade me into it. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Like you — Umh ! I can't tell — let's fee — (Looking on 
 her .) —— give me your Hand. 
 
 Mrs. Con. There (Strikes it into his.) 
 
 Ld. Geo. Now I mull prefs it gently, to know if touching you 
 
 keeps any Correfpondence with my Heart — Humh ! A well 
 
 llefht Hand indeed (Ogling her.) 
 
 Mrs. Con. O Lud ! not Co hard tho\ 
 
 Ld. Geo. Now try your other Forces — look upon me. 
 
 Mrs. Con. There — (Staring wildly on him.) 
 
 Ld. Geo. (Afide.) She dares not tho J in Raillery look kindly on 
 
 me — I like her for't This over-a<5ted Boldnefs to lave her Mo- 
 
 defty at this time, looks like fecret Inclination. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Well, how do you find youfelf ? Have I Power 
 
 Do you burn much ? 
 
 Ld. Geo. Umh! No, I'm a little too low for a Fever There's 
 
 a fmall Pulfe indeed Different Sexes, like Steel and Flint can't 
 
 well meet without a fort of ftriking Light between 'em ; not but it 
 goes out as fad as it comes in One farther Tryal of your Pow- 
 er, and I'll tell you more. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Come, come, what is't? I'll do't. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Turn away your Face, hold your Fan before it. Now 
 draw you Hand (lowly from me, and if you wou'd not have me 
 think this Lightnefs of your Humour a dired Indifference, let me 
 perceive a gentle Hold at parting, as though you left a tender 
 Heart upon the PrefTure. (She does as direcled y and runs jrom him. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Has your Ladyfhip any Tea left? 
 
 Ld. Geo. Death! that forming Touch has mot me to the Soul. 
 
 Mrs, Co?u
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 35 
 
 Mrs. Con. (Afide.) Let me obferve him well, for Faith! I try'd my 
 utmoft Force, and even pleas'd my felf in hopes to touch him. 
 
 Ld. Geo. (Afide.) How vain a Coxcomb am I? This Girl has 
 
 fool'd me to believe {he likes me That there mould be fuch Plea- 
 
 fure in the Flattery of another's good Opinion! There's fome- 
 
 thing in the open Freedom of her Humour, fo much beyond the 
 
 Clofe Referves of Formal Prudery, that Death, if (he were of 
 
 any Price but Marriage But I'm a Fool to think of her 
 
 (Walls apart.) 
 
 Mrs. Con. Humh! The Symptoms are right Hah. Cow 
 
 rage ma Fille, the Gentleman has a Hole in his Heart yet. 
 Enter a Servant , who gives Lord George a Letter. 
 
 Ld. Geo. Oh! There, come in good Time Now to drive out 
 
 one Poifon with another (Goes to La. Gent.) Madam, if your 
 
 Ladyfhip's at leiiiue I have the Bills ready. 
 
 La. Gen. I am alham'd to give your Lordfhip this trouble. 
 
 Ld. Geo. A Trifle, Madam, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, if your La- 
 dy(hip pleafes to look upon 'em, I think they are all hundred 
 Pounds. The reft I have about me in Gold. 
 
 La. Gen. If your Lordihip pleafes, we'll reckon in the next 
 Room Mrs. Con que JK 
 
 Mrs. Con. I'll wait upon your Ladymip. [Exit Lady Gentle, 
 
 and Lord Gorge. 
 
 —Eight Hundred Pound, and the reft in Gold, upon her bare 
 
 Word of Honour ! He'd hardly make that Complement only to 
 
 give me Jealoufie > 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. Wron<r. And therefore iince I find the more I endeavour to de- 
 te& you, the more you perfift in your Refolution to ufe me ill. Since 
 my honeft Refentment, and your Actions have made us a mutual 
 Grievance to one another, I lee no way in Nature to make us mutu- 
 ally juft, but by cancelling our Obligations. If we agree to part, 
 th'uneafie Bond of Wife or Hufband no longer lies in force againft 
 us — And fince I am contented to remit the Breaches you have made 
 of the Conditions on your Parr, I fuppofe you won't think it incon- 
 fiftent with your Reputation, to allow me part of the Fortune I 
 brought you, as a feparate Maintenance. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. When you and I part, Madam, you fhall leave none 
 of your Fortune behind you: But fhou'd I now yield to your Propo- 
 fal ; the World might think I own'd the Breaches you accufe me of, 
 
 b and
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 5' 7 
 
 and then 'twere only parting to indulge your Pride : But if the fin- 
 cere Sorrow of your humble Heart can find a way to make it as con- 
 fident with my Reputation, as my private Peace, I'll fign to your 
 Relief this moment. 
 
 La. Wrong. Your Reputation! No, my Lord, that's your Bnfi- 
 nefs to fecure. I've taken care to let my Actions judifie my own ; if 
 
 you have been remifs, the Fault's not mine to anfwer I'm glad 
 
 at lead to fee you own where 'tis your Weaknefs lies. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. To bear fuch. Infults from a Wife, is not, perhaps, 
 my lead Weaknefs — — Nay, I've another too (which I might own 
 with equal Bluming") A tame forgiving Pity of your unfortunate 
 Temper, that paufes yet to take th'Advantage of your Didraction 
 to undo you. 
 
 La. Wrong. Horrid ! Infolent AfTertion, to do me Injury j and c 
 my innocent Endeavours at Redrefs, Didraclrion. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Innocent! Away ! You take the Ruded, Fierced, Falf- 
 ed Means for Reparation, if you had a Wrong. 
 
 La. Wrong. If I had! Infupportable! To be ouc-fae'd that my 
 own Eyes deceive me ! 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Death, and Confufion ! Suppofe your Wrongs were 
 true — think what they are — fpeak 'em with a moded Tongue, and 
 blufh at all this Rednefs of Refentment. 
 
 La. Wrong. Nay now, my Lord, we are pad ail Argument. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. 'Tis fit we fhou'd be fo — the Subject ought to be be- 
 low your Thoughts — don't mifufe your Pride, till I am taught to 
 think you've none. Death! I've known the Spirit of a Strumpet in 
 the Misfortunes of her flighted Love lhe\v more than you - y who tho' 
 her Heart was bleeding with the inward Pain, yet to her Lover's 
 Face took Pride and Eafe to fecm concernlefs at his F ' 
 
 La. Wrong. My Lord, your having a better Opinion of fuch 
 Creatures than your Wife, is no new T ba't I mult I 
 
 you, I have not deferv'd your vile Companion. - Nor (hall I ever 
 .buy an Hufband's Inclination, by being like the horrid Things you 
 doat on. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Come, fince you are Incorrigible, I'll give your Pride 
 the vain Relief you afk for — Your Temper is at lad intolerable, and 
 now 'tis mutual Eafe to part with you: Yet to let you fee 'tis not in 
 
 Vol-. II. H the
 
 58 The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 the Power of all your Follies to provoke me to an Injuftice; I wilt 
 not truft your Wifhes with your own Difcretion ;. but if you have a 
 Friend, that's not an Enemy to me, whofe Honefty and Senfe you 
 dare depend on, lee him be Umpire of the Conditions, of what's 
 proper both of us mould yield to when we parr, and here's my 
 Hand, my Word, my Honour, I'll fign them on demand. 
 
 La. Wrong. Keep but your Word in this, my Lord, and I have 
 henceforth no Injuries to reproach you with. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. If in the lead Article I ilirink from it, conclude me 
 then the mean, the fervile Wretch you'd make me. 
 
 La. Wrmig. I'd make you Jul!, my Lord, if that's my fault, I 
 never lTull repent it. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. We are now no longer our own Judges : Madam, 
 name the Perfon you appeal to. 
 
 La. Wrong. O! my Lord, you can't be more in hafte than I am. 
 Sir Friendly Moral y and I think you can have no Objection to his 
 
 Integrity I appeal to him. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. The Man o'th' World I wou'd have chofe my felf;. 
 and if you pleafe, Madam, I'll wait upon you to him immediately. 
 La. Wrong. No, my Lord, I think it won't be unreafonable, if I 
 fpeak with him alone fir ft. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. With all my Heart; in half an Hour then I'll follow you.. 
 La. Wrong. My Lord, you need not affect this Indifference, I have 
 
 Provocations enough without it I'll go, depend upon't. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. I thought you had been gone, Madam. How now. 
 
 [PaJ/ing hajl'ily by htm. 
 
 Enter a Servant, who whifpers Lojv/Wronglove. 
 
 Serv. Sir Friendly Moral defires to fpeak with your Lordfhip, he 
 
 flays in the next Room, and begs my Lady may not know he's here. 
 
 La. Wrong. [Turning.] What can that Whifper mean ? But I have 
 
 done with Jealoufie. 
 
 Ld, Wrong. When your Lady's gone out, defire him to walk in. 
 [Ex. Serv.] In half an Hour, as I told you, I'll pofitively be with you. 
 La. Wrong. O! my Lord, I fhall n't ftay to interrupt your Priva- 
 cies. [Exit Lady Wron glove. 
 Ld. Wrong. How unfortunate muft this Woman's Temper be when 
 e'en this Affectation of Indifference is the greateft Proof I ever re- 
 
 ceiv'dj
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 59 
 
 ceiv'd of her Inclination — What can this come to? — By Sir Friend- 
 ly'^, being here, I fanfy (he has been difclofing her Grievance alrea- 
 dy - and when flie has made the very word: of it, I am miftaken, if 
 his Temper and Underftanding won't convince her, that 'tis below 
 the Pride and Prudence of a Wife, to take fo violent a Notice of 
 it But here he comes [Enter Sir Friendly Moral.] S\v Friend- 
 ly, your mod; humble Servant — Come, we are alone, I guefs the Bu- 
 finefs — my Wife has been talking with you. 
 
 Sir Friend. No, my Lord, and unlefs you give me your Word 
 to be fecret, 1 dare not tell you my Bufineis. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Upon my Honour. 
 
 Sir Friend. Then, there, my Lord, I juft now receiv'd that Let* 
 ter from her. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. (Reads.) 
 
 A T lafl I find there's no way of being eafie in my Life, but part" 
 -* •*- mg for ever with my Ford : And I ' woii 'd ' ivillingly do it in fitch 
 a manner , as might leafi blame me to the World: Tour Friend (hip to 
 both our Families will, I'm fire, engage you to advife me in the fafefi 
 Method : Therefore I beg you'll be at home fome time this Evening, 
 that I may fpeak with you : For Life, as it is, is infup port able. 
 
 I am, Sir, &c. 
 Well, Sir Friendly, then I can tell you, half your Trouble's over ; 
 for we have agreed to part already, and both have chofen you the 
 Umpire of the Conditions. 
 
 Sir Fr. How, my Lord ! cou'd Paflion be fo far your Mailer too ? 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Why Faith, Sir Friendly, Patience cou'd endure it no 
 longer — 'Twas her own Propofal, and (lie found the way at laft to 
 provoke me, to take her at her word. 
 
 Sir Fr. Her word, fy! fy! becaufe fhe'd lame her Reputation to 
 cripple yours, mall you revenge her Folly on yourfelf? Come, come, 
 your underftanding ought to have more Compaflion for the Misfor- 
 tune of a weak Woman's Temper. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Oh! (he's implacable] 
 
 Sir Fr. That quality punilhes it'jfelf, my Lord; and fince the Pro- 
 vocation's yours, it might fometimes be pardon'd. Do but imagine 
 how it muft gall the Heart of a Woman of Spirit, to fee the loofe 
 
 H i Coquets
 
 6 o The L a',p y's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 Coquets of her Acquaintance fimle at her modiih Hufband's deep; 
 in a feparate Bed from her. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Humph ! there's fomething in what you fay — I own — 
 Not but you'll laugh at me, ihoud I tell you the true and hoi 
 occahon of it. 
 
 Sir Fr. Not if it be true, and honeft, my Lord. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Upon my Faith, it was not the lead diftafte of h 
 Perfon, but her being downright an intolerable Bedfell-ow. 
 
 Sir Fr. How do you mean? 
 
 Ld. A . I cou'd never Sleep with her For though (lie lov 
 
 late Hours, yet when (lie has feen me gape for Bed like a Waiter at 
 the Groom Porters in a Morning, (lie wou'd (lijl referve to her felf 
 the tedious Decorum of being rirft follicited for her Company ; la 
 that (lie ufually contriv'd to let me be three quarters A deep, before 
 ilie wou'd do me the Honour to difturb me. Then belides this, I 
 'vas feldom iefs than two Nights in Four, but in the very middle of 
 my firft comfortable Nap, 1 was awaken'd with th' Alarum of Tingle, 
 Tingle, Tingle, for a quarter of an Hour together, that you'd fwear 
 (he wanted a Doctor, or a Midwife: And by and by down comes 
 Madamoifeile with -a (ingle Under- petticoat in one Hand, and rub- 
 bing her Eyes with the t'other ; and then after about half an Hours 
 weighty. Arguments on both fides, poor Madamoifeile is guilty of 
 not having pull'd the Sheet fmooth at her Feet ; by which unpar- 
 donable neglect her Ladyihip's little Toe had lain at leaft two Hours 
 upon the Rack of a Wrinkle, that had almoit put her into a Fe- 
 ver This, when I civilly complain'd of, (he faid (he mull: either 
 
 be cafie in the Bed, or go out of it 1 told her that was exactly 
 
 my Cafe, fo I very fairly ftep'd into the next Room, where 1 have 
 eve;- fince flept mod profoundly found, without f~o much as once 
 dreaming of her? 
 
 Sir Fr. An unforunate Circumftance truly, but I fee a little mat- 
 rny Lord, will part People that don't care for Company. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. But, Sir Friendly, (not to trouble you with a long 
 Partic the Provocations I had from her Temper, to run a 
 
 roguing at fir ft), (unpofe I have play'd the Fool, is the Fault unpar- 
 donable ? Is a Reputation like a Huiband's, mean, or infa- 
 ■Ti.ous., becaufe (lie overlooks the Folly?
 
 the Wife's Resentment. &% 
 
 Sir//-. No— but did you, my Lord, ever give her any figns of 
 a Repentance? 
 
 Ld. JVrOfig. As far as I thought the nature of the Crime required 
 I've often receiv'd her moderate Reproaches with a Smile, and .Rail - 
 lery — given her leave to guefs, in hopes her Underilanding wou'd 
 have fmil'd again, and pardon'd it. 
 
 Sir Fr. And what lffe<5fc had that ? ' 
 
 Ld~Wr.ong. O! none in Nature! For, Sir, her Pride has poffefs'd 
 her with io horrid an Idea of the Crime, that my making flight on'c 
 but more incenfes her: And when once her Paflion takes the 
 berty of her Tongue to me, I neither fpare Authority, nor ill Na- 
 ture to provoke, or filence her— Tnis generally is our comfe of 
 Converfation • and for ought I fee, if we fhou'd not agree upon part- 
 ing, we are in as fair a way of heartily plaguing one another for 
 Life, as er'e a comfortable Couple in Europe. 
 
 Sir Fr. My Lord, the thought's too Melancholy to jell upon. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. Why Faith, I have fo far a Concern for her, that 
 cou'd any means of an Accommodation be found, that were not un- 
 fit for an Hufband to fubmit to, 1 fhou'd not yet refufe to come irfb 
 
 Sir Fr. Spoken like a Man, my Lord : How far rhe Fault's in you, 
 I partly fee,- and when I have made the fame Enquiry into my La' 
 dies Grief, I doubt not then I mail be better able to advife. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. You've now an Opportunity - y for (he's gone this ve- 
 ry Minute to my Lady Gentle's, to fpeak with you, 
 
 Sir Fr: 'Twere heft to lofe no time then, my Lord, .I'll take my 
 leave — nay, no Ceremony. 
 
 Ld. Wrong. No, I'm going part of your way — upon my word. 
 Enter Lady Gentle reading a Letter, and Mrs. Conqueft. 
 
 Mrs. Con. I hope Sir William's well, Madam. 
 
 La. Gent. Yes, very well, my Dear, and defires his Ban ma 
 to your Lady (hi p. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Does he fay any thing of coming to Town ? 
 
 La. Gent. No. nothing yet. 
 
 Mrs. Con. No! Pray, Madam don't you think his good Wonnip 
 begins to be a little fonder of Fox Hunting than you cou'd w 
 he were ? 
 
 La, G
 
 62 TllC Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 La. Gent. I am always pleas'd while he's diverted ; if you faw his 
 Letters to me, you wou'd not think I had any reafon to complain. 
 Mrs. Con. Nay, the World owns your Lady (hip has the perfect 
 Secret of making a good Hufband. 
 
 La. Gent. Believe me Child, the matter's not fo difficult as Peo- 
 ple wou'd have it. If you but knew what Trifles, in the comply- 
 ance of a Woman's Temper footh a Man to Fondnefs, you'd admire 
 to what childim Obftinacy fo many Women owe their uneafmefs. 
 
 Enter Mifs .crying. 
 MiCsNot. Oh! Oh! 
 
 La. Gent. How now! what's the Matter, my Dear? 
 lA\Cs Not. Oh! Oh! Madam! Madam! 
 Mrs. Con. Blefs me! what ails the Child? 
 Mifs Not. I have been fo abus'd ! fo affronted ! , 
 La. Gent. Abus'd ! by whom, my Dear ? 
 Mifs Not. That Monfter of Men, my Lord George Brilltant. 
 Mrs. Con. My Lord George. 
 Mifs Not. Oh ! I can't fpeak for Paffion ! 
 La. Gent. I'm amaz'd ! what has he done, Child ? 
 Mifs Not. The mod provoking, impudent thing that ever was 
 ofTer'd to a young Creature fure : Oh! Oh! 
 
 Mrs. Con. \Aftde.\ This mud be fome ftrange thing indeed : For 
 if I don't miftake, her young Ladyfhip thinks her felf old enough 
 for molt forts of Impudence, that a Man can offer to her. 
 La. Gent. Has he ofFer'd any Love, or Rudenefs to you? 
 Mifs Not. O worfe ! worfe ! a thoufand times. 
 Mrs. Con. Worfe! what can that be Child? — unlefs it be, that he 
 has not made love to her ? \_Afide. 
 
 MifsA^?. O! Madam! 'tis not my felf alone, but your Ladyfhip 
 and Mrs. Conquejl too, that are affronted. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Am I in ? But it's no Novelty to me — I have Co far the 
 better of both of you, I am us'd to his Impudence, and know how to 
 bear it. 
 
 La. Gent. I am amaz'd! Pray let's hear, Child. 
 Mifs Not. O! I cou'd tear his Flefh for having fuch a Thought of 
 me. 
 
 La>Gent. 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
 
 <?4- The Lady's Last Stake: Or, 
 
 Ld. Geo. And now, Madam, to let you fee you have as much 
 fubdu'd my Follies, as my Heart. Firfr, let me humbly afk a Par- 
 don for Offences — Here [To Lady Gentle.] Thefe Sums, Ma- 
 dam, I now muft own to ferve my fhameful Ends, were all unfairly 
 won of you ,• which fince I never meant to keep, I thus reflore, 
 and with 'em give a friendly Warning of your too mix'd a Company 
 in Play. 
 
 La. Gent. My Lord, I thank you — and mall henceforth ftudy to 
 
 deferve the Providence that fav'd me If I miftake not too, I have 
 
 fome Bills that call for reftitution, Here. [To Mrs. Con.] No one 
 cou'd, I'm fure, be more concern'd to fend 'em. Friendfhip's con- 
 ceal'd are double Obligations. 
 
 Mrs. Con. I fent 'em to relieve you, Madam, but fince your dan- 
 ger has no farther need of 'em [Takes the Bills. 
 
 Sir Fr. Now, Child, I claim your Promife, here comes another 
 of your fmall Accounts that is not made up yet. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Fear not, Sir, I'll pay it to a Scruple. 
 
 Enter Mifs Notable weeping, hi a Night drefs. 
 
 Mifs Not. O where's this mournful fight : Your Pardon Ladies, if 
 my intruding Tears confefs the weaknefs of a harmlefs Paffion, that 
 now 'twould be ungrateful to conceal : Had I not lov'd too well, this 
 fatal Accident had never been. 
 
 Mrs. Con. Well don't be concern'd, dear Madam, for the word 
 part of the Accident is, that I am found at laft; it feems to be no 
 more fit for a Wife, than as I told you were for a Hufband. 
 
 MifsiYW. Ha! [In Confujion, 
 
 Mrs. Con. Not but I had fome thoughts of marrying you too ; 
 but then I fanfy'd you'd foon be uneafy under the cold Comfort of 
 
 Petticoats — fo 1 don't know the good Company has ev'n 
 
 perfuaded me to pull off my Breeches, and marry Lord George. 
 
 Wife Not. Marry'd! bafe Man! is this the proof of your Indiffe- 
 rence to Mrs. Con que [I ! [Afide to Lord George. 
 
 Ld. Geo. 'Tis not a Proof yet indeed — But I believe I mall mar- 
 ry her to Night j and then you know, my Life, I am in a fair way 
 to it. 
 
 Mifs Not. Jeer'd by him too ! I'll lock my felf up in fome dark 
 Room, and never fee the World again. [Exit. 
 
 4 La. Wrong.
 
 the Wife's Resentment. 95 
 
 La. Wrong. [To Lord Wrong.] Was fhe? that Creature then the 
 
 little wicked caufe of my Difquiet ? How ridiculous have you 
 
 made my Jealoufie ? Farewel the Folly and the Pain. 
 Ld. Wrong. Farewel the Caufe of it for ever. 
 La. Gent. [To Sir Fr.] The Count fay you, his Accomplice! How 
 I tremble. But I have done with it for Life; fuch ruinous Hazards, 
 need no fecond Warning. 
 
 Ld. Geo. I fancy, Nuncle, I begin to make a very ridiculous Fi- 
 gure here, and have given my felf the Air of more Loofenefs than 
 I have been able to come up to. 
 
 Mrs. Con. I'm afraid that's giving your felf the Air of more Vir- 
 tue than you'll be able to come up to But however, fince I 
 
 can't help it, I had as good truft you. 
 
 Ld. Geo. And when I wrong that Truft, may you deceive me. 
 Sir Fr. And now a lading Happinefs to all 
 
 [Coming forward to the Audience* 
 • 
 Let thofe that here, as in a Mirror fee 
 Thefe Follies, and the Dangers they have run 
 Be cheaply warn'd, and think thefe Scapes their own* 
 
 THE END. 
 
 EPILOGUE..
 
 E P I L O G U E. 
 
 Spoken by Mr. CIBBER. 
 
 I'm thinking, when poor Plays are quite cry'd 'down, 
 (As nothings flrange in this revolving Town, 
 Tho' what the latter Age had thought amazing,) 
 What we poor Slaves Jhall do, when turn'd a Grazing. 
 Perhaps great Casfar, who the World commanded, 
 May fnuff the Opera Candles when disbanded ; 
 And proud Roxana, from her high Difdain, 
 Mojl vilely floop to fpread TofFtiffa\r Train, 
 Not but our Women may fee better Lives, 
 
 And make fome honejl Cuts (troth !) comfortable Wives. 
 
 Let no fair Damfel think this faid t' affront her, 
 
 (For howfoe'er the Stages Hopes may mount her) 
 
 Beauty may drive as good a Trade behind a Counter. 
 
 As here *fome Chapmen, * there fome Heads with Sorrow. [*The Pit and 
 
 May give, and feel, fore Proofs before this time to Morrow : [Gallery. 
 
 But I, whofe Beauty only is Grimace, 
 
 Have no fuch Profpe&s from this hatchet Face. 
 
 All I can do muji be 
 
 With humble Ale, and Toafl, round Sea-Coal Fire, 
 At Nights my penfive Spoufe, and Brats t'infpire, 
 With Taggs of Crambo Rhimes, and tack 'em to th' Italian Lyre. 
 Nay, e'en when Hunger prompts 'em for Relief, 
 I'll make 'em ask for Food in Recitative : 
 
 As thus, [Sings in Recitative.] " Mamma / — Well! what, what is't you 
 " Pray cut me a great Piece of Bread and Butter. [mutter? 
 
 [Then this to the Air of Tes y yes, 'tis all I want, &c. 
 There's all you're like to have, 
 
 Nor can you ask for Supper ; 
 'Tis cut quite round the Loaf, 
 
 'Tis under fide, and Upper. 
 
 Who
 
 Who knows in time, but this in Bills in/erted, 
 May croud a Houfe, when Shakefpear is defei ted. 
 
 Or fay that I my J elf 
 
 Since painted Nature no Recruits will bring in, 
 
 Should e'en, in Spite of Nature, Jiick to Singing, 
 
 My Voice, fis true, the Gipffs but unkind to, 
 
 Tho } thafs a Fault you ev'ry Day are blind to. 
 
 But if I change my Name, that half will win ye, 
 
 Of the foft Sound of Seignior Cibberini. 
 
 Imagine then, that thus with amrous Air 
 
 1 give you Raptures, while I fquall Defpair. [Sings Italian.'] 
 
 If this won't do, I'll try another Touch, 
 
 Half French, fome Englifh, and a fpice of Dutch. [Sings in broken 
 
 Now, Sirs, you've fe en the utmojl I can do, [Engli/h. 
 
 As Poet, Player, and as Songfter too ; 
 
 But if you can't allozu my Voice inviting, 
 
 E'en let me live by Acting, and by JVriting,- 
 
 Vot. IT. 
 
 N 
 
 THE
 
 A- & ijg; J& & & Jft & & & .*-. A A it *, j& & &> 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<e y ejlote propitii in me jejunum, pauperem, miferum, & omni confo- 
 latione exulem. 
 
 Sir 01. Upon my Faith, Sir, a very deep Scholar! But I'll to 
 him agen. 
 
 Sir Greg. Pray, Sir, does he beg or fteal in this Language? or 
 what? why he may call one Fool, for ought I know, and a Man 
 never the wifer. 
 
 Sir 01. He begs, he begs, Sir. 
 
 Prif. Ecce Domine -, Ecce in ocuhs lacrymarum flumen, in ore fa- 
 mes, fitifq-y & in omni parte necejfitas, ©* indigentia. 
 
 Sir 01. Audi tit bonus foetus : tu es fcholajlicus, fie intelligo. Ego 
 
 faciam Argumentum Now mind, Sir, now I'll fetch him up, you 
 
 mail fee A hum, a hum. 
 
 Sir Greg. Well, I have been fetch'd up an hundred times for this, 
 and yet cou'd never learn half fo much. 
 
 Sir 01. Audi 3 6f refponde j hoc eft Argumentum ! Nomen ejl No- 
 
 men y
 
 W i t, at fever al Weapons. 115 
 
 men, Ergo j §hiod eft tibi Nomen ? Refponde mine Hum, hum 
 
 Refponde Argumentum meum ? Now I put him to'c, Sir. 
 
 Y. Out. [Peeping.] Step in, ftep in, the Rafcals out of his penn'd 
 Speech, and can go no farther. 
 
 Sir 01. Cur non refpondes, Domine? 
 
 Prif. Ob / Domine tanta me a eft Mifer'ia. 
 
 Y.Out. O! he's in again. 
 
 Prif. Ut no&e me cum pernotlat Egejlas, luce quotidie Paupertas 
 habitat. 
 
 Sir 01. Sed quod eft tibt Nomen? & quis dedit, refponde Argu- 
 mentum. 
 
 Prtf. A hem, hem. 
 
 Y. Out. He's dry, he hems again, on quickly. 
 
 Enter Sir Threadbare. 
 
 Sir Thr. Courteous Gentlemen, if the Brow of a military Face 
 may not be ofTenfive to your generous Eye-balls, let his Wounds 
 fpeak better than his Words, for fome fmall Branch, or the lead 
 Sprig of Charity to be planted upon this poor barren Soil of a 
 Soldier. 
 
 Sir 01. Why, how now! What Arms and Arts both go a beg- 
 ging ? 
 
 Sir Greg. Pray, let me give 'em fomething, and be gone ; for if 
 
 any Difpute fliou'd happen among us, I am able to anfwer neither of 
 'em ; for this Iron and Steel Tongue of his is full as crabb'd to me 
 as t'other Latin. 
 
 Sir 01. Stay, (lay, Sir, I'll talk with 'em a little firft ,- let me a- 
 lone with' 'em, I'll examine both, I'll try whether they live by their 
 Wits or no. 
 
 Sir Greg. Ay ! if ftarving be living you may fee they do. 
 
 Sir 01. And what? Do you both beg together then? 
 
 Prif Conjun&is manibus profe&o Domine. 
 
 Six Thr. With equal Fortune, Sir, equal Diflribution, there's not 
 the breadth of a Swords Point uneven in our Divifion. 
 
 SirGVifg. Well! to fee what two rich Qualities are here cad away 
 upon two poor Fellows? 'ad I warrant if a Man cou'd buy theie 
 Creatures now, and might but kill 'em, and boil 'em down to a Jel- 
 
 P z iy,
 
 1 1 6 The Rival Fools: Or, 
 
 ly, and take a Porringer of 'em failing every Morning, they won'd 
 fo ftrengthen ones Underftanding that in a Months Time one might 
 be fit for a Bifhop, or a General. 
 
 Sir 01. Come, Sir, join your Charity with mine, and we'll make 
 'em up a couple of Pence between us. 
 
 Sir Greg. Why if a Man cou'd but have a Penny-worth for his 
 Penny, I did not care how much I laid out with 'em. 
 
 Y. Out. Save you, Gentlemen ! Thefe Beggars are fo troublefome 
 there's no paOTing the Streets for 'em. 
 
 Sir Th. Generous, Sir, do not defpife our Mifery, we were not 
 
 born to beg ! 
 
 Prifc. Ante obitum foel'ix nemo fttpremaq-, Fata. 
 
 Y.Out. Pray, Gentlemen, what are they? 
 
 SirOI. Faith, Sir, as you fee, Man and Mercury, a couple of 
 poor Planets that Jupiter has turn'd out of their Sphere to live by 
 their Wits, and we were juft about a Spark of Charity to kindle 'em 
 
 a new Fire. 
 
 Y. Out. Hold, Sir ! not but I commend your Defign, but wou'd 
 not have your Charity abus'd by the Undeferving. Which is he 
 that profefTes the Soldier ? 
 
 SixTkr. He, Sir, that has liv'd to fhame the World with his Pro- 
 feflion witnefs the dangerous and unrewarded Life he has led in it 
 thefe pair of half fcore Years. 
 
 Y. Out. In what Service have you been You'll pardon my In- 
 terruption, Gentlemen ? 
 
 Sir 01. Pray go on, Sir. you feem to underftand 'em. 
 
 Sir Thr. The firft Service, Sir, that flufht me a Soldier, was that 
 memorable Battle at Alcazer in Barbary, where the noble Engliffo 
 Stukely fell j and where the royal Portugueze Sebajitan ended his 
 
 Life. 
 
 Y. Out. Urn ! This can be no Counterfeit. 
 
 Sir 01 I don't think you'll find him one, Sir. 
 
 Y. Out. But, Sir, methinks, you don't (hew the Marks of a Soldier! 
 Have you brought home no Scars to be your Chronicle? 
 
 Sir Thr. Sir, I have Wounds, and many, but in thofe Parts, where 
 Nature and Humanity bids me blufh to expofe 'em. 
 
 Y. Ouu
 
 Wit, at fever al Weapons. 117 
 
 Y. Out. Come, Sir, I'll try your Scholar too, I'll fee if he has 
 Learning enough to deferve his being poor You have the Lan- 
 guages, I prefume, Sir ■ I mean the Chief, as Hebrew , Sy'tack, 
 Greek, Latin, and fo forth. 
 
 Prifc. Aliquantulum, non totaliter, Dom'ine. 
 
 Sir 01. Nay, Sir, I have try'd him deep in the Latin, and indeed 
 find him very well grounded — very well grounded. 
 
 Y. Out. Then, Sir, Til touch him a little in the Greek. Tot a 
 Miois Father o'ts Oldfooleros Afwifoy. 
 
 Prif Kat Tonkeros filligous Bambooflomenos. 
 
 Y. Out. Cheater on ton bit on? 
 
 Prif. Tons Pollous Purfos Pickpockettos. 
 
 Y. Out. Upon my Credit, Sir, a very great Mafter of the Greek. 
 
 Sir 01. Why, I fee it, Sir — There's a Bottom in him, the Man's 
 deep. 
 
 Y. Out. I'll only trouble your Patience in a little Syriack, Sir — 
 and then. 
 
 Sir 01. O pray, Sir 
 
 Y. Out. Kir com Jhag a dou mathell beda/Jj Bragmen. 
 
 Prif. Ha/hagath, Rabgabojh fbobeth, Onoriadka. 
 
 Y.Out. Co/pa c, Rubafca, gnawerthem fhigfhag. 
 
 Prif. Napfhamothem, Ribjie, Bongomofh Cathemech Nagofoi. 
 
 Y. Out. Gentlemen, i have done, if any Man can go farther I con* 
 fefs my felf at a Nonplus. 
 
 Sir Greg. Not I, faith, Sir, I was at my Top in honeft old Eng/i/h, 
 I was never double Tongued, I thank my hard Fortune. 
 
 Y. Out. Faith, Gentlemen, 'tis pity (ftand away a little, Friend.) 
 I fay, 'tis pity Fellows fo endow'd, fo qualified with the Gifts of Na- 
 ture and Arts mou'd have fuch a fcarcity of Fortune's Benefits • is it 
 not a Reproach think you, a fhame to this Iron hearted Age? 
 
 Sir 01. 'Tis fo indeed, and a thoufand Pities Men of their Parts 
 mou'd want — When I do a thing I love to do it handfomely. — 
 Come, Sir, here's my Groat. 
 
 Y.Out. For what, Sir? 
 
 Sir 01. Sir, I love to fee merit rewarded. 
 
 Y.Out. With a Groat, Sir? O! give 'em nothing, a thoufand 
 times rather^ give 'em nothing : For my part I own their Misfor- 
 tunes
 
 i 1 8 The Rival Fools: Or, 
 
 tunes have touch'd me deeper, and tho 5 I have little but my Wits to 
 live by— — -Here, Friends, here's half I have in the World for you; 
 four Angels to guide you to your Lodgings ; a poor Gentleman's 
 good Will at leaft. 
 
 Pr'ifc. Ah! Gratias ben'igniffime Do mine, gratias quant as pojfum 
 rnaximas habeo. [Seems to weep. 
 
 Sir 01. Sir Gregory, This is but an indifferent Example for us. 
 
 Y. Out. Let me not live if the very Joy of their Relief does not 
 draw the Tears into their Manly Eyes! I can't bear the mock. — 
 Here, Gentlemen, there's the reit for you, take Purfe and all, I'm 
 forry 'tis not full to ferve you. 
 
 Sir 01. We (hall be undone! Now where's my Wit? 
 
 Sir Greg. Puh ! Pox of Wit! when a Gentleman has Money; 
 there, you ingenious Curs you, there's the Devil and nil for you 
 Come! come, Sir Nunkle, down with your Dud — 1 have gi- 
 ven 'em five Pieces. 
 
 Sir 01. Why, then there's as many 1 know the Value of a 
 
 Man of Wit, Sir. 
 
 Sir Thr. May Soldiers ever defend fuch Charities. 
 
 Pr'ifc. And Scholars pray for their Encreafe. 
 
 Sir 01. They may pray for you, Sir, you have mended the Scho- 
 lars Commons to Day, I believe. But hark you, Sir, you faid 
 
 you lived by your Wits; I can tell you if you are often troubled 
 with thefe Fits of Bounty, you'll ftarve by your Underftanding. 
 
 Y . Out, I can't think Co, Sir; the Seed of Virtue never wants 
 its Harveft Gentlemen, your humble Servant. [Exit T. Out. 
 
 Sir Greg. Faith, Sif, I only gave mine to give my (elf an Air- — 
 For between you and I, a Man had as good light of a reafonable 
 Thief, as a Beggar of an unreafonable Mifery. 
 
 Re-enter T. Outwit. 
 Odfof Here comes the Gentleman again, and I fanfy 'tis to beg his 
 Half back again. 
 
 SirO/. Like enough! Sharp's the word! we'll have half ours too. 
 
 Y. Out. D'e hear, Friends' 1 muit beg your Pardon, here's a 
 
 fmall Gold Crown, that lay concealed in my Fob, that I had like 
 
 to have wrong'd you of but now you have all 1 can allure you. 
 
 Sir 01.
 
 W it, at fevered Weapons. 119 
 
 Sir 01. Ahum! hum! Brufh off, Brum off, this Fellow's bewitch'd. 
 
 Sir Greg. O filly fhaliow-brain'd Cur. 
 
 [Exit Sir Oliver and Sir Gregory. 
 
 Sir Thr. So here's ten Pieces for a Breakfaft, Boys. 
 
 Y. Out. Pmaw! a Trifle! a By-blow, only for Mirth's fake ! But 
 we rauft have better Purchafe, Lads! Now, I want a Fourth Perfon 
 for another Project that I have ripen'd. 
 
 Sir Thr. My Wife's your Man, Sir. 
 
 Y. Out. Have you any Breeches for her? 
 
 Prif. Sir, (lie has worn nothing elfe fince {lie was married I can 
 witnefs, Figuratively fpeaking. 
 
 Sir Thr. Hold your Peace, Trope — But to fpeak truth, me does 
 not fear the Crack of a Piftol ,• dares fay fraud to a Grazier. 
 
 Prifc. Probatum fuit profeclo Domme. 
 
 Y. Out. Good ! Let her be at the Rendefvous in her Maiculine 
 Gender. My Father has a young Nephew coming up from the 
 Univerfity, whom he defigns for Orders ; Eafie Matter Credulous Out- 
 wit — we'll meet him at the Towns-end. 
 
 Sir Thr. And rob him 
 
 Y.Out. No, but he fhall rob one of us, and that (hall rob my 
 Father of an hundred Pieces to bring him off, and make him thank 
 me for taking fo little: For there's the Ambition of my Wit, to 
 live upon his profefl: Wit, that has turn'd me out to live by my 
 Wits. 
 
 Prif. Cum hirundinis alts tibi regratulor. 
 
 Y. Out. A Man's Habit, a mam Bag of a hundred Pound, the 
 Hour, the Place, the Action mall be at Night agreed on. And 
 now my wife Father you fhall find I'll put my ilender Portion out to 
 Intereft ,• foil you even at your own Weapon. 
 
 And to confirm your /elf in me Renate, 
 
 I'll prove at leaft my lilt's Legitimate. [Exeunt', 
 
 The End of the Firfl A& 
 
 m 
 
 ACT
 
 120 T1k Rival Fools: Or, 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 SCENE Sir OliverV Houfe. 
 
 Enter Cuningham alone. 
 
 Cun. "\\1 "AS ever Man Co fairly caught in a Trap of his own 
 YY baiting ? No provok'd Wafp can be more troublefome 
 than this old Stump of a Woman I have drawn after me,- I thought 
 to have made her my ftalking Mare to Lucinda, and inftead of that 
 the Hag has clapt a Bit in my Mouth, and rides me like a Port: 
 Horfe, and 'tis impoflible to throw her; flie flicks as clofe as a Sad- 
 dle I had no way to get a Minute out of her Company but by 
 
 telling her I was troubled with a Diabetes. O! the Devil 
 
 Enter Governefs. 
 
 Gov. Why, how now, Sweeting — What a whole Half-hour from 
 •me? A young Man fhou'd think every Minute a Month in love. 
 
 Cun. Why, fo I do, my Bird while I am in your curfed Com- 
 pany. [/Jfede. 
 
 Gov. Eh! Bird! eh! if thou'lt be rul'd I'll build thee a comfort- 
 able (fmkkering) Neft, that will Hand all Storms, you mall not need 
 to fear a Weather- wreck of your Fortune, and one Day it may be 
 youngling Seafon too, and then I hope to have thee always near me. 
 
 Cun. A Pox of your PafTion But hark you, Sweeting! Prithee 
 
 tell me, has my good Friend, Sir Gregory, any hopes of fucceeding 
 with his Miftrefs Lucinda? 
 
 Gov. No, by my Faith has not he, if you'll take my word for'tj 
 fetting his Worfhip afide, in my Mind he looks like a Fool. 
 
 Cun. Nay, faith, ne'er divide 'em for that matter, Fool and Wor- 
 fhip are no fuch Strangers now-a-days,- but my Meaning is, does 
 fhe give any hearty Encouragement — To be plain have they as fair 
 hopes of one another, as (Cupid blefs!) we have ? 
 
 Gov. Troth, I don't perceive any fuch great Forwardnefs in her,- 
 he ofFer'd to kifs her to Day, and me laid him over the Face with 
 
 her
 
 Wit, at fever •al Weapons. J 2 I 
 
 her Fan, made his Eyes Water bitterly Tho' I wim your Friend, 
 
 the Knight, better for your fake. 
 
 Cun. Why, I thank you, Bird and cou'd wilh with all mv 
 
 Heart, he were as ftrongly fure of her, as thou art of having me. 
 
 [Chucking her Chin. 
 
 Gov. Eh! if thou didft but fpeak thy Heart now! Eh! he fhou'd 
 fpeed ne'er the worfe for't. And I'll tell you, Bird, (for we'll have 
 no feparate Secrets now) Mrs. Luanda, my Charge, thinks well of 
 you. 
 
 Cun. Of me! for what, prithee? 
 
 Gov. Why a- for my Sake, Child, (he knows of your good 
 
 Will to me, and therefore upon that account, Honey, has taken a 
 liking to thee • when we get into a Houfe of our own, Love, {he'll 
 give us a bit of Stuff, I believe, and if ever (lie lives to be Goftip, 
 the Babe (halln't want a Coral, {he fays. 
 
 Cun. The Babe, quotha! it will be a hopeful Mandrake, with- 
 out doubt, that fprings from our Conjunction. [/Jfide. 
 
 Gov. Ah! {he defigns fuch things for thee, if I durft but fpeak. 
 
 Cun. Nay, don't doubt my Secrecy, tell me. 
 
 Gov. Oh, fye! you muft not make me tell what Women fay be- 
 hind Men's Backs, Child. 
 
 Cun. O! you muft give me leave at lead to give her Thanks for't. 
 
 Gov. No, no, that's my part; for you muft confider, what (he 
 does for you is only for my fake. 
 
 Cun. This is excellent! [Jfide. 
 
 Gov. If you (hou'd tell all that I open to you, you'll fhame us 
 both i you may kifs your Hand to her at a diftance, and blufh, or 
 fo, but I'll allow no nearer a Conference. 
 
 Cun. Hey day! you'd be jealous then! 
 
 Gov. jealous! and there's no true Love without it,- look you J 
 if you'll be rul'd, and not make things common, in time I may 
 tell you more. 
 
 Cun. Udfo! your Lady! {he'll fee us. 
 
 Gov. 'Pmaw! no matter, (he'll be pleas'd with it our Familia- 
 rity is her Content. 
 
 Enter Niece and Simple. 
 
 Niece. This from Sir Gregory, Sir? 
 : Vo l. II. a Sm *
 
 12 2 The Rival Fools: Or, 
 
 Sim. Yes, Madam — She's a very pretty Creature. [A/ide. 
 
 Niece. Do you belong to him, Sir? 
 
 Sim. Yes, Madam — a-hem! (lie's a fine Woman, indeed. [Afide. 
 
 Niece. Pray, Sir, in what Capacity ? — How the Fellow eyes me. 
 
 [Afide. 
 
 Sim. Madam, I am but his Gentleman — a-hem! [Sets him/elf. 
 
 Niece. And pray, Sir, what might be his Conceit in fending me 
 
 this wrought Handkercher ? Still fo clofe! [Afide y feeing 
 
 Cun. and Gov. 
 
 Sim. His Conceit, Madam, was, that as that happy Handkercher 
 enfolds your fnowy Neck all Day, fo he defires all Night to embrace 
 it with his Knightly Arms a-hem! 
 
 Niece. A notable Conceit, I promife you. 
 
 Sim. Madam, he has been cudgelling his Brains thefe two Hours, 
 to find a prefent worthy your Ladyfliips Acceptance — Madam, he 
 was once fending a very fine Puppy to you. 
 
 Niece. That, he might have brought himfelf. Ha! he feems 
 
 to obferve me! This Fellow may be of ufe. I'll fit you Sir. 
 
 [Afide. 
 
 Gov. Pray mind me, Honey! you do nothing but flare upon her, 
 I think. 
 
 Cun. No, indeed, I was only obferving, that finical Coxcomb, 
 that Fool yonder. 
 
 Gov. Don't tell me! what need you look upon the Fool, when 
 I'm here? 
 
 Cun. How familiar the Rafcal is ? [Afide. 
 
 Sim. By the World, I believe (he likes me! [Afide. 
 
 Niece. Come, come, ne'er difguife it! this Prefent was above 
 your Mafter's Fancy, I know it; your Wit had a Hand in't, I'm 
 pofitive. 
 
 Sim. O pray, Madam. [Affecting a Blujh. 
 
 Niece. Nay, nay, I mud know. 
 
 Sim. Oh! O lay! fmce you muft know then, Madam, pray give 
 me leave to afk, why your Ladyfhip alks, and you (hall know. 
 
 Niece. Nay, if it be your Mafter's I'm fqrry for't, that's all. 
 
 Sim* Then don't be uneafie, dear Madam — it was mine. 
 
 Niece.
 
 Wit, at fever al Weapons. 123 
 
 Niece. Weil! its extrea'mly pretty! I may depend upon't, as 
 yours, Sir? 
 
 Sim. I wifh I may perim, Madam, if Sir Gregory (for Matter I'll 
 call him no more, if I cou'd have the Honour to ferve your Lady- 
 (hip) had the lead Hand in it. 
 
 Niece. Then I am eafy Pray, Sir, tye it on for me Blefs 
 
 me! How white a Hand you have! 
 
 Sim. O, dear Madam, and your Ladyihips Neck fo near, I am 
 afham'd you {hou'd look upon't. 
 
 Niece. You certainly ufe Art with it. 
 
 Sim. Nothing but Almond- Powder, as I am a living Creature, 
 Madam. 
 
 Niece. Pray, Sir, what's your Name? 
 
 Sim. Samuel Simple, Madam. 
 
 Niece. Simple > 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<ve her. 
 
 JSfor need I blufh, that I fufpend my Caufe, 
 
 Since, with its Vengeance, her fure Woes are blended ; 
 
 O ! lay not on her Innocence the Grief 
 
 Of a mourn d Father, or a Lovers Blood ! 
 
 O ! fpare her Sighs, prevent her fir earning Tears, 
 
 Stop this Effufion of my bleeding Honour, 
 
 And heal, if poffible, its Wounds with Peace. 
 
 T o all which, when the Count is immoveable, and grows at! 
 laft impatient of his Reproaches ; then Carlos recovers to his 
 Honour, and breaks out as follows ■ 
 
 O / give me back that vile fubmifjive Shame, 
 
 That I may meet thee with retorted Scorn, 
 
 And right my Honour zvith untainted Vengeance ; 
 
 Tet no withhold it ! take it, to acquit my Love, 
 
 That Sacrifice zvas to Ximena due : 
 
 Her helplejs Sufferings claim d that Pang) and fine e 
 
 J cannot bring Di [honour to her Arms, 
 
 Thus my racKd Heart pours forth its laft Adieu, 
 
 And
 
 To the READ E R. 189 
 
 jind makes Libation of its bleeding Peace : 
 Farewell, dear injur d Softnejs Follow me. 
 
 After the Place of Meeting is appointed, Carlos troubles 
 you with no more of his Love, than by uttering with a Sigh, as 
 he goes out, 
 
 Poor Ximena 
 
 c» 1 
 
 Which had (o companionate an Effect upon our Englifh Hearer 
 that if his Love was then a Weaknefs, it was at leaft luch a one, 
 as they heartily forgave him. 
 
 The next Scene or the Infanta (who is always dropping in, 
 like cold Water upon the Heat of the main Action) is for that 
 Reafon again left out ; our Difference other wile is not material, 
 till the King receives Notice of the Count's being killed by Ro~ 
 drigue \ which is fo ilighrly related, or to ufe Corneilles own 
 words, Sans aucune Narration touchante, and received with fo 
 little Surprize or Curiofity, to know any Circumftances of the 
 Action, that, upon my firft reading the French Play, I fcarce 
 knew whether I was to believe him dead, or no. I have there- 
 fore endeavoured, in The Heroick Daughter, to awaken the Au^ - 
 dience, by making that Relation more folemn and particular* 
 and to prepare the probability of the Cataftrophe, which 1 ffiall 
 better account for in its Place : But in the laft Scene of this fe-» 
 cond Act it muft be allowed, the Cid begins to feize upon the 
 Heart of the Spectator ; and this is one of thole great Beauties 
 that have fo juitly given rife to its Fame. The fluctuating Pity, 
 that is lb finely perplexed between the Tears of a pious Daugh- 
 ter, and the venerable Sorrows of a Father ; the happy Skill ot 
 throwing them both, in the fame Inftant, at the Kings Feet for ' 
 Juftice and Mercy, and with Pretentions io equally laudable, is, 
 an Incident which few Tragedies, either Antient or Modern, can 
 boaft of. The only liberty I have taken with this Scene, is in 
 making the Father plead with more Refignation, and rather to 
 truft his Caufe to its fimple Merits, than dioie of his own paft 
 Services.
 
 ipo To the READ E R. 
 
 The next Ad opens with Rodrigue\ appearing in the Apart- 
 ment of his Miftrefs, where he leilens his Character, by jiifhfy- 
 ins; his Honour to her Servant : After Chimene too is left alone 
 with the fame Servant Ehire, fhe throws away a great many fine 
 Sentiments upon that prating Creature, who has no Senfe of 
 them, but endeavours to comfort her by vulgar Advice, which 
 makes Chimene inexcufable to hear ; befides, the main Action 
 cools in the Converfation. This is avoided in the Heroick 
 Daughter, by making Belz»ara the third Perfon in thefe two 
 Scenes, who iias an Intereft in ferving Carlos, yet never is mean or 
 dilhonourable in her attempting it. But the next Scene makes 
 us ample amends for all we may have juftly found fault with. 
 
 The meeting oi Rodrigue and Chimene, throws us into a 
 Tenderneis that is irrehitible : This Incident gives the Cid as 
 fair an Aflurance of being immortal, as any modern Poetry can 
 hope for. There is fomething fo amiable in the Defpair of Ro- 
 drigue, in his natural Disregard of his Safety, for the refiftlefs 
 Pleaiure of feeing his Miftrefs ; and we are apt to be fo feized 
 with the inftant Idea of her tender Pailion breaking through her 
 filial Obligations to purfue him, that at the fiift fight of them it 
 is impollible, for an attentive Auditor, not to feel the moft agree- 
 able Transport and Aftonifhment : And fince the Incident is Cor- 
 neilles, ana not mine, it may be no Vanity to fay, this Effecl: 
 was evident from the Hurry and bufy Murmur that ran through 
 the Audience at its firft Premutation in London. And it would 
 indeed be a Reflection on our Englifh Tafte, to fuppofe we 
 could be lefs feniible than our Neighbours of fo palpable an 
 Excellence : For Corneille, fpeaking of the Reception • of this 
 Scene in Paris, fays, 
 
 G^ualors que ce malheureux amant fe prefentoit devant elle, it 
 selenjoit un certain Fremijjement da??s I Aj}emblee, qui marquoit 
 une Curiofite merveilleufe, & un rcdovMcment d! Attention pour ce 
 quits avoient a fe dire dans un eft at ft ft toy able. 
 
 But allowing it all this Admiration, I have fome Reafons ro 
 offer (to better Judgment) why the Conduct of this Scene in the 
 Heroick Daughter, is not implicitely form'd upon the Model ot 
 that in the Cid. I cannot but think, that Rodrigues entring with 
 
 an
 
 To the READER. 191 
 
 an Anfwer to the laft words of Chimene, muft be unnatural, if 
 you don't fuppofe him to have liftened at the Door to her pri- 
 vate Difcourfe ; and though 'tis poflible moft of our modifh Cri- 
 ticks may own they would have liftened in his Condition, yet 
 that is no Proof that Lift'ning, efpecially in another Perfon's Houfe, 
 is not always the Effect, of Meannefs, Ill-Manners, or Treache- 
 ry j 1 therefore thought it more reafonable to let him approach 
 her in a mute fubmiilive Addrefs, and, to give him time for it, 
 have thrown Ximena into a reproachful Aftonifhment the moment 
 fhe fees him : Corneille, alter ibme fine Touches of their Diftrefs, 
 fuffers him to proceed in Excufe of his Offence ; in which he 
 feems too fond of fhewing the Man of Honour, and the harfh 
 Terms he ufes, in his Juftincation, are too choquant for the Ear 
 of an injur'd Miftrefs. Thefe are his words, 
 
 tt Car enfin ne attens pas de mon Affection, 
 a Vn lache repentir £ me bonne Attwn ?. 
 
 And a little farther ; 
 
 " Je le ferois encore, fijavois a le fa ire. 
 
 This laft Line is omitted in the Heroick Daughter, and the firft are 
 foften'd, by only faying, 
 
 " How /hall I repent me of a Crime, 
 
 " Which, uncommitted, had defervd thy Scorn i 
 
 I Have endeavour'd, in the fame Speech, to make his Crime 
 more pitiful, by his pleading the Regard he had to her Peace, in 
 firft endeavouring to reduce her Father into a Temper, that might 
 have ended their Difference with a lefs fatal Reparation j and it 
 feems to heighten the Diftrefs of Ximena, when you fee her Heart 
 is full, and confcious of the Obligation. 
 
 After Chimene has anfwefd his Plea, in the moft fublime 
 Sentiments of her filial Duty to purfue him for her Father's Death, 
 Rodrigue infifts, that her own Hand alone ought to fatisfy her 
 
 Vengeance. '•
 
 ipz To the READER. 
 
 Vengeance : I have here made bold to fhorten their Arguments 
 upon this Point, which feem a little too near the romantick, and 
 have fubftkuted one, which I thought more agreeable to Nature ; 
 where Carlos fays, 
 
 Let not the Wretch, once honour d with thy Love> 
 
 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. ip<j 
 
 yet, Non nunc erat his locus ; all this moves us not, and niieht 
 have been fuppos'd, or related only, that the more immediate 
 Bufinefs of tiie Play might have come forward, as is attempted in 
 the Heroick Daughter. 
 
 Besides, the making Rodrigue to give an Account of his 
 
 own Victory, muft either leflen the Action, or his Character 
 
 Any Friend, who was a Well-wifher to his Intereft, muft certain- 
 ly have been a more proper Herald of his Fame : I have there- 
 fore made Alonz^o give the Particulars of this glorious Service to 
 his Country, and I thought the Audience would be better pleas'd, 
 if it were given to Ximena, that they might, at the fame Inftant, 
 fee the new Conflict it muft naturally raife between her Paflion 
 and her Duty : For though the King is in the Play the Perfon 
 moil concern'd to hear it, yet the Spectator is molt concern'd that 
 Ximena fhould hear it, and it offends not either Manners or Pro- 
 bability, that the King is fuppos'd to have heard it before. 
 
 When Ximene returns to Court for Juftice, the King, in 
 hopes to appeafe her, has a mind htft to make a Difcovery of her 
 Pailion, and cunningly tells her, that her Defile of Vengeance is 
 anfwer'd, for Rodrigue is dead of his Wounds : At which Chimene 
 fainting, his Majefty fairly bites her, owns he is alive, and that 
 
 he is now convinc'd ffie has no mind to hurt him This Finejfc 
 
 is needlefs, and ill becomes the Gravity of the Subject; there js 
 nothing of it in the Heroick Daughter. 
 
 Well ! when all will not do, when fhe finds it is Co hard to 
 make the King more fenfible of her private Wrongs, than of her 
 Lover's late Service to the Publick, it is indeed Time to make 
 her lofe her Senfes ; for then, poor Lady ! fhe demands the 
 Combat, and is forc'd to call her Vanity and Falfhood to the 
 Afliftance of her Duty, by propofing her Perfon as a Reward to 
 any Gentleman, that would be the Champion of her Caufe, if he 
 prov'd victorious : This is facrificing her Pailion to her Duty with 
 a vengeance. What an unconfolable Figure would fhe have 
 made, if Nobody had taken up the Cudgels ! 'tis well fhe knew 
 fhe was handfome, or that might really iiave been the Cafe. But 
 to be ferious^ 
 
 Cci I Thought
 
 i$6 To the READE R. 
 
 I Thought it much more decent and natural, when fhe 
 was in this Extremity, to let Sanchez, who had before offer d his 
 Service, take this fair Occafion of ftepping in to her Afliftance j 
 'tis he, therefore, that, in Ximcnas Name, demands the Com- 
 bat ; and that fhe might not have the Guilt of flattering him with 
 the leaft Hope, as a Lover, he is made even to difguife the 
 Motive to it with his pretended Friendfhip for her late Father : 
 The King's granting the Combat, and the neceffary Orders about 
 it, conclude the fourth Act of the Cid. 
 
 The fifth Act begins with Rodrigues abruptly vifiting Chimem, 
 without Leave or Excufe, before he was going to the Lifts. And 
 though, in her firft Words, fhe pretends to be fhock'd at his Ap- 
 pearance, yet he takes no notice of it, but goes on with his Bu- 
 finefs, and fhe as infenfibly finks into Mildnefs and Temper to 
 hear it. Here they feem too declamatory and romantLk, which I 
 have endeavour'd to avoid, by giving a more fpirited Turn to 
 me Paflions, and reducing them nearer to common Life ; and 
 the, Expedient, that introduces the Interview itfelf, is, I hope, up- 
 on a more pardonable Foundation : For to make thefe two Acts 
 into one, in the Heroick Daughter, it was but to contrive this 
 Scene naturally to follow the laft, without leaving the Stage va- 
 cant ; which is effected by the King's giving Carlos leave to take 
 Ms Farewell of Ximena before his going to the Combat : And 
 thus her hearing him, while her Friend Belz>ara 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« <X-06 *X~j* 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Alvarez and Carlos. 
 
 L L I A N C E ! ha ! and with the Race o£ Gorman ! 
 My mortal Foe ! The King enjoins it, faidft thou ? 
 Let me not think thou couldft defcend to ask it : 
 Take heed, my Son, nor let the Daughter's Eyes 
 Succeed in what the Eather's Sword has fail'd ; 
 
 Since I, to Age, have flood his Hate unmov'd, 
 
 Be not thou vanquifh'd by her Female Wiles, 
 
 Nor (lain thy Honour with infulted Love. 
 
 n d i Car.
 
 2.04 The Heroick Daughter. 
 
 Car. O taint not with fo hard a Thought her Vertues ! 
 Which flie has provd fincere from Obligations : 
 Tis, to her Suit, I owe my late Advancement. 
 You know, my Lord, the Fortune of this Sword 
 Redeem'd her from the Moors, when late their Captive ; 
 For which, at her Return to Court, flie fwell'd 
 The Action, with fuch Praifes, to the King, 
 He bad her name the Honours cou'd reward it : 
 She, confeious of our Houfes Hate, liirpriz'd, 
 And yet difdaining that her Heart fhouid tall 
 In Thanks below the Benefit receiv'd, 
 Warm' d, with th Occafion, begg'd his Royal Favour 
 Would rank me, in the Field, the next her Father.. 
 The King comply'd, and with a Smile infifted, 
 That, from her own fair Hand, I fhouid receive 
 The Grace. This fore'd me then to vifit her : 
 To fav what follow'd from our Interview, 
 Mi^ht tire, at Ieaft, if not offend your Ear. 
 
 Ah. Not {o, my Carlos, but proceed. 
 
 Car. In brief ; 
 The Queen, who now, in higheft Favour, holds 
 The fair Ximena, foon perceiv'd our Pailion, 
 Approv'd, and cherifh'd it ; our Houfes Difcord 
 She knew, of old, had often fhook the State ; 
 Whereon flie kindly to the King propos'd 
 This happy Union,' as the fole Expedient, 
 To cure thofe Wounds, and fortify his Throne : 
 Nay flie,. Ximena, if I know her Thoughts, 
 Chiefly to that Regard refigns her Heart. 
 O ! fhe difclaims, contemns her Beauty's Power, 
 And builds no Merit but on ftable Vertue. 
 
 Ato. If Co, I fhouid indeed applaud her Spirit. 
 
 Car. Oh ! had you fearch'd her Soul, like me, you would 
 Repofe your Life, your Fame, upon her Truth. 
 
 Ah. On thee, at leaft, I'm f ure I may $ I know 
 Thou lov'ft thy Honour equal to Ximena, 
 
 And
 
 The Heroick Daughter. 20^ 
 
 And to that Guard I dare commit thy Love, 
 
 Keep but that Union facred 
 
 Car. When I break it, 
 May your Difpleafure, and Ximends Scorn, 
 Unite their Force, to torture me with Shame : 
 But fee ! fhe comes ! her Eye, my Lord, has reach'd you ! 
 
 [Ximena enters. 
 Mark her Concern, the Softnefs of her Fear, 
 O'ercaft with Doubt, and Diffidence to meet you ; 
 One gentle word from you would chace the Cloud, 
 And let forth all the Luftre of her Soul. 
 
 Alv. Hail ! fair Jf/^«^--beauteous Brightnefs, hail ! 
 Propitious be this Meeting to us all, 
 With equal Joy and Wonder I furvey thee v 
 How lovely's Vertue in fo bright a Form ! 
 Thy Father's Fierceneis all is loft to thee ; 
 Well have thy Eyes reproach'd our Houfes Jars, 
 And calm'd the Tempefh that have wreck'd our Peace, 
 What we, with falfe Refentinents, but inflam'd, 
 Thy nobler Vermes have appeas'd with Honour. 
 
 Xim. Theie Praifes from another Mouth, my Lord, 
 Might dye theie glowing Cheeks with Crimfon Shame ; 
 But as they flow thus kindly from Alvarez, 
 From the Heroick Sire of my Deliverer ; 
 As you beftow them, my exulting Heart, 
 Though undeferv'd, receives with Joy the Sound : 
 But for thofe Vertues you afcribe to me, 
 Alas ! they are but copy'd all from thence. 
 Carlos, I faw, was brave, victorious, great, 
 
 Companionate —I am at bed: but grateful 
 
 Cou'd I be lefs reducd with Obligations ? 
 Cou d I retain our Houfes antient Hate, 
 W 7 r*en Carlos Deeds fo greatly had forgot it ? 
 It Heav'n had will'd our Feuds fhould never end, 
 It wou'd have chofe fome other Arm to fave me : 
 But if its kinder Providence decrees 
 
 Ximends
 
 206 The Heroic k Daughter. 
 
 Ximends yielded Heart fhould cure thofe Ills, 
 And bind our Pafllons in the Chains of Peace j 
 Be witnefs that all-gracious Heaven ! I've gain'd 
 The End, the Haven of my Hopes on Earth, 
 And fill'd the proudeft Sails of my Ambition. 
 
 Ah. O Carlos ! Carlos ! we are both fubdu'd ! 
 Where can fuch heav'nly Sweetnefs find a Foe ? 
 What Gormaz, may refblve, his Heart can tell, 
 But mine no longer can refill: fuch Vertue ; 
 His Pride perhaps may triumph o'er my Weaknefs, 
 And wrong Xtmena to infult Alvarez, : 
 Be mine that Shame, but then be mine this Glory, 
 
 [He ]olns their Hands. 
 That I furrender to his Daughter's Merit 
 All that her Heart demands, or mine can give ; 
 If he's obdurate, let her Wrongs reproach him. 
 
 [Don Sanchez and Alonzo observing them. 
 No Thanks, my Fair; for both, or neither, are 
 Oblisj'd : Whatever may be due to me, 
 Let Love and mutual Gratitude repay. 
 
 D.San. Death to my Eyes ! Alvarez, joins their Hands !^ 
 
 Alon. Forbear ! is this a Time for Jealouiy ? > 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. 
 
 <SMar. A fawcy Puppy. 
 
 Col. Prithee, Sifter, what has the Fellow done to you ? 
 
 Heart. I beg you tell us, Madam. 
 
 Mar. Nay, no great matter but I was fitting careleily in my 
 
 DreiTing-Room — a—a faftning my Garter with my Face jull to- 
 wards the Door, and this impudent Cur, without the leaft No- 
 tice, comes Bounce in upon me— and my devilifh Hoop hap- 
 ning to hitch in the Chair, I was an Hour before I could get 
 down my Petticoats. 
 
 Heart. The Rogue muft be corrected. 
 
 Col. Yet, I-gad, I can't help laughing at the Accident ! What 
 a ridiculous Figure muft £he make ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Mar. Hah! you're as impudent as he, I think? Well, but had 
 not I belt go to my Father ? 
 
 Heart. Now, now, dear Tom, {peak tcher before fhegoes; this 
 is the very Crifis of my Life . [Apart to the Col.] 
 
 Mar. What does he lay, Brother? 
 
 Col. Why he wants to have me lpeak to you, and I would have 
 him do it himfelf. 
 
 oTIdar. Ay, come, do, Heart ley, I am in Good-Humour now. 
 
 Heart. O, Maria — my Heart is burfting 
 
 Mar. Well, well, out with it. 
 
 Heart.
 
 The Non-Juror. 297 
 
 Heart. Your Father now I fee is bent on parting us Nay» 
 
 what's yet worfe, perhaps will give you to another 1 cannot 
 
 fpeak Imagine what I want from you 
 
 ' Mar. Well O lud! one looks fo filly though, when one's 
 
 ferious O Ged In fliort I cannot get it out. 
 
 Col. I warrant you; try again. 
 
 Mar. O lud! well— if one muftbe teiz'd then why 
 
 he muft hope, I think. 
 
 Heart. Is't poflible? Thus 
 
 Col. Buz [Stopping his Mouth.] not a Syllable; fhe has 
 
 done verv well; I bar all Heroicks: if you prefs it too far, 111 
 hold fix to four, fhe's off again in a Moment. 
 
 Heart. I am filenc'd. 
 
 Mar. Now am I on Tiptoe to know what odd Fellow my Fa- 
 ther has found out for me. 
 
 Heart. I'd give fomething to know him. 
 
 Mar. He's in a terrible Fufs at your being here, I find I 
 
 had bed: go to him. 
 
 Col. By all means. 
 
 Mar. O blefs us ! here he comes piping hot to fetch me ! Now 
 we are all in a fine Pickle. 
 
 Enter Sir John haftily He takes Maria under his Arm, cocks his 
 
 Hat, nods, frowning at Heartlev, and carries her off. 
 
 Col. So Well faid, Dodtor! 'Tis he I'm fure has blown 
 
 this Fire. What horrid Hands is this poor Family fallen into? 
 and how the Traytor feems to triumph in his Power ? How lit- 
 tle is my Father like himfelf ? by Nature, open, juft, and gene- 
 rous ; but this vile Hypocrite drives his weak Paflions like the 
 Wind, and I forefee, at laft, will dafh him on his Ruin. 
 
 Heart. Nothing but your fpeedily detecting him can prevent it. 
 
 Col. I have a Thought, and 'tis the only one that can expofe 
 him to my Father — Come, Frank, be cheerful; in fome unguarded 
 Hour we yet, perhaps, this lurking Thief, 
 
 Without his Holy Vi&or, may furpri&e, 
 
 And lay ttilmpoftor naked to his Eyes. [Exeunt.] 
 
 Vol. II. Q.q ACT
 
 2.p8 The Non- Juror. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Charles with a Writing in his Hand. 
 
 Cbarles.W%§IS Co 1 have long fiifpedted where his Zeal 
 
 fggggjj would end, in the making of his private Fortune—- 
 
 But then to found it on the Ruin of his Patron's 
 
 Children, makes me fhudder at the Villany : What Defperation 
 
 may a Son be driven to, fo barbaroufly difinherited I Bellde 
 
 his Daughter, fair Maria too, is wrong'd ; wrong'd in the mod 
 tender Point : For fo extravagant is this Settlement, it leaves her 
 not a Shilling, but on her conditionally marrying with the Doc- 
 tor's Confent; which feems, by what I've heard, intended as an 
 Expedient to oblige her to accept the Do&or himfelf for her 
 Husband. Now 'twere but an honeft Part to let Maria know this 
 Snare, that's laid for her : This Deed's not fign'd, and might be 
 
 yet prevented It fhall be fo 'twere Folly not to try — - 
 
 My Condition can't be worfe Who knows how far her Good- 
 Nature may think herfelf oblig'd for the Difcovery I Muft 
 
 he ruin, as he has done mine, all Families he comes into I 
 
 Enter Sir John, Lady Woodvil, and Maria. 
 
 Sir John. O, Charles, your Mafter wants you to tranfcribe fome 
 Letters. 
 
 Charles. Sir, I'll wait on him, [Exit Charles, hiving refpeff- 
 
 fully to the Ladies.~] 
 
 Mar. A pretty-bred Fellow that ! 
 
 Sir John. Ay, ay ; but he has better Qualities than his Good- 
 Breeding; he is honeft. 
 
 o^kfar. He's always clean too. 
 
 Sir John. I wonder, Daughter, when thou wilt take notice of a 
 
 Mans real Merit Humph! well-bred and clean, forfooth — ■ 
 
 Would
 
 The NonJuror. 2pp 
 
 Would nor one think now, fhe were defcribing a Coxcomb ? 
 
 Mar. But, dear Papa, do you make no allowance for one's Tafle? 
 
 Sir John. Tafle ! hah ! and one's Tafle ? That Madam One is to 
 me the moil provoking, impertinent Jade alive ; and Tafle is tha 
 true Picture or her fenflefs, fickly Appetite : When do you hear 
 my Wife talk at this rate ? and yet fhe is as young as your fantafli- 
 cal Ladyfhip. 
 
 Lady W. Marias of a cheerful Temper, my Dear j but I know 
 you don't think fhe wants Difcretion. 
 
 Sir John. I fhall try that prefently ; and you, Sweet-heart, fliall 
 judge between us : In fliort, Daughter, your Courfe of Life is but 
 one continual Round of playing the fool to no purpofe ; and 
 therefore I am refblv'd to make you think ferioufly, and marry. 
 
 <£War. That I fhall do before I marry, Sir, you may depend 
 upon't. 
 
 Sir John. Um That I am not Co fure of — but you may de- 
 pend upon my having thought ferioufly, and that's as well : for the 
 Perfon I intend you, is of all the World the only Man that can 
 make you truly happy. 
 
 Mar. And of all the World, Sir, that's the only Man I'll pofi- 
 tively marry. 
 
 Lady W. [Afide to Maria.] Thou hafl rare Courage, Maria ; if 
 I had fuch a Game to. play, I ffiould be frighted out of my Wits. 
 
 <tMar. Lord, Madam, he'll make nothing on't, depend upon 
 it. [AJide.] 
 
 Sir John. Mind what I fay to you — This wonderful Man, I 
 fay — Firfl, as to his Principles, both in Church and State, is un- 
 queflionable. 
 
 ojMar. Sir, I leave all that zo you j for I fhould never ask him 
 a Queftion about either of them. 
 
 Sir John. You need not ; I am fully fatisfied of both — He is a 
 true ftanch Member of the Englifh Catholick Church. 
 
 Mar. Methinks though, I would not have him a Roman Catho- 
 lick, Sir, becaufe you know of double Taxes. 
 
 Sir John. No, he's no Roman. 
 
 Mar. Very well, Sir — 
 
 Q.q 1 Sir John.
 
 500 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Sir John. Then as to the State, he'll friortly be one of the moft 
 confiderable Men in the Kingdom, and that too in an Office for 
 Life j which, on whatsoever Pretence of Misbehaviour, no Civil 
 Government can deprive him of. 
 
 Mar. That's fine indeed ; I was afraid he had been a Clergy- 
 man. 
 
 Sir John. I have not yet faid what his Function is As for 
 
 his private Life —he's fober. 
 
 Mar. O ! I fhould hate a Sot. 
 
 Sir John. Chafte. 
 
 Mar. A hem ! \_Stipng a Laugh. 
 
 Sir John. What is't you fneer at, Madam ? You want one 
 
 of your fine Gentlemen-Rakes, I fuppofe, that are mapping at 
 every Woman they meet with. 
 
 oPkfar. No, no, Sir ; I am very well fatisfied 1 1 fliould 
 
 not care for fuch a fort of Man, no more than I fhould for one 
 that every Woman was ready to fhap at. 
 
 Sir John. No, you'll be fecure trom Jealoufy ; he has Expe- 
 rience, Ripenefs of Years ; he is almoft Forty-Nine : Your Sqxs 
 Vanities will have no Charm for him. 
 
 oZMar. But all this while, Sir, I don't find that he has any 
 Charm for our Sex's Vanity : How does he look ? Is he tall, 
 well made ? Does he drefs, ling, talk, laugh, and dance well I 
 
 Has he a good Air, good Teeth, fine Eyes, fine fair Perriwig 
 
 Does he keep his Chaife, Coach, Chariot, and Berlin, with fix 
 flouncing Flanders'? Does he wear Blue Velvet, clean White 
 Stockings, and fubfcribe to the Opera ? 
 
 Sir John. Was there ever fo profligate a Creature ! What will 
 this Age come to ? 
 
 Laky W. Nay, Maria, here I muit be againft you Now you 
 
 are blind indeed, a Woman's Happinefs has little to do with the 
 Pleafure her Husband takes in his own Perfon. 
 
 Sir John. Right ! 
 
 Lady W. 'Tis not how he looks, but how he loves, is the Point. 
 
 Sir John. Good again ! 
 
 Lady W. And a Wife is much more fecure, that has Charms for 
 her Husband, than when the Husband has only Charms for her. 
 
 Sir
 
 The Non-Juror. j 0I 
 
 Sir John. Admirable ! Go on, my Dear. 
 
 Lady W. Do you think, Child, a Woman of Five and Twenty 
 may not be much happier with an honeft Man of Fifty, than the 
 fineft Woman of Fifty with a young Fellow or Five and Twenty ? 
 
 Sir John. Mark that. 
 
 opldar. Ay, but when two Five and Twenties come together • 
 
 Dear Papa, you mull: allow they have a chance to be fifty times as 
 pleafant and frolickfome. 
 
 Sir John. Frolickfome ! why you (enfual Idiot, what have Fro- 
 
 licks to do with folid Happinefs ? I am afham'd of you Go ! 
 
 you talk worfe than a Girl at a Boarding-School Frolickfome! 
 
 as if Marriage were only a Licence for two People to play the 
 Fool according to Law ? . Methinks, Madam, you have a better 
 
 Example or Happinefs before your Face Here's one has ten 
 
 times your Underftanding, and fhe, you find, has made a diffe- 
 rent Choice. 
 
 Mar. Lord, Sir ! how you talk ? you don't confider Peoples 
 Temper : I don't fay my Lady is not in the right ; but then you 
 know, Papa, fhe's a Prude, and I am a Coquette j fhe becomes her 
 Character very well, I don't deny it, and I hope you fee every 
 thing I do is as confident with mine ! Your wife Folks may lay 
 down what Rules they pleafe ; but 'tis Conflitution that governs 
 us all, and you can no more bring me, Sir, to endure a Man of 
 Forty-nine, than you can perfuade my Lady to dance in a Church 
 to the Organ. 
 
 Sir John. Why, you wicked Wretch, could any thing perfuade 
 you to that ? 
 
 Mar. Lord, Sir ! I won't anfwer for any thing I fhould do 
 when the Whim's in my Head : You know I always lovd a little 
 Flirtation. 
 
 Sir John. O horrible ! My poor Mother has ruin'd her ; leav- 
 ing her a Fortune in her own hands, has turn'd her Brain : In 
 fliort, your Sentiments of Life are fhameful, and I am relolv'd 
 upon your inftant Reformation : therefore, as an Earner! ot your 
 Obedience, I {hall firft infift, that you never fee younn Heartley 
 more ; for, in one word, the good and pious Dr. Wolf's zhe 
 Man that I have decreed your Husband. 
 
 Mar.
 
 30Z The Non-Juror. 
 
 Mar. Ho ! ho ! ho ! [Laughing aloud.'] 
 
 Sir John. 'Tis very well this Laugh you think becomes 
 
 you, but I fhall fpoil your Mirth no more give me a fe- 
 
 rious Anfwer. 
 
 Mar. \Gravely.~] I ask your Pardon, Sir, I fhould not have 
 fmil'd indeed, could I have fuppos'd it poflible that ^ou were fe- 
 rious. 
 
 Sir John. You'll find me Co. 
 
 Mar. I am lorry for it ; but I have an Objection to the Doc- 
 tor, Sir, that moil: Fathers think a fubftantial one. 
 
 Sir John. Name it. 
 
 Mar. Why, Sir, you know he is not worth a Groat. 
 
 Sir John. That's more than you know, Madam ; I am able to 
 give him a better Eftate than, I am afraid, you'll deferve. 
 
 Mar. How ? . Sir. 
 
 Sir John. I have told you Avhat's my Will, and fhall leave you 
 to think on't. 
 
 'Enter Charles. 
 
 Charles. [Apde to Sir John.] Sir, if you are at leifure, the 
 Doctor defires a private Conference with you, upon Bufinefs of 
 Importance. 
 
 Sir John. Where is he P 
 
 Charles. In his own Chamber, Sir, juft taking his leave of the 
 Count and another Gentleman, that came this Morning Exprefs 
 from Avignon : He has fent you too the Note you asked him lor. 
 
 Sir John. 'Tis well; I'll come to him immediately [Exit 
 
 Charles.] Daughter, I am call'd away, and therefore have only 
 time to tell you, as my laft Refolution, that if you expect a Shil- 
 ling from me, the Doctor is your Husband, or I'm no more your 
 Father. [Exit Sir John, and drop a Paper. 
 
 Mar. O Madam ! I am at my Wits end, not for the little For- 
 tune I may lofe in difobeying my Father ; but it ftartles me to 
 find what a dangerous Influence this Fellow has o'er all his Ac- 
 tions. 
 
 Lady W. Dear Maria, I am now as much alarm'd as you ; for 
 tho', in compliance to your Father, I have been always inclined 
 
 td
 
 The Non-Juror; 303 
 
 to think charitably of this Doctor, yet now I am convinc'd 'tis 
 
 time to be upon our Ouard he's ftepping into his Eftate too ! 
 
 Mar. Here's my Brother, Madam, we'll confult with him. 
 
 To them the Colonel. 
 
 Col. Madam, your moft obedient Well, Sifter, is the Secret 
 
 out I Who is this pretty Fellow my Father has pick'd up for you. 
 
 ofMar. Ev'n our agreeable Doctor. 
 
 Col. You are not ferious ? 
 
 Lady W. He's the very Man, I can allure you, Sir. 
 
 Col. Confufion ! What would the Jewifh Cormorant devour 
 die whole Family I Your Ladyfhip knows he is fecretly in Love 
 with you too. 
 
 Lady W. Fie ! he ! Colonel. 
 
 Col. I ask your Pardon, Madam, if I fpeak too freely ; but I 
 am fure, by what I have feen, your Ladyfhip mull: fufpect fome- 
 thing of it. 
 
 Lady W. I am Cony any body elfe has feen it ; but I mud 
 own his Civilities of late have Been lomething warmer than I 
 thought became him. 
 
 Col. How then are thefe Oppofltes to be reconcil'd ? Can the 
 Rafcal have the Aflurance to think both thefe Points are to be 
 carry'd ? But he does nothing like other People j he's a Con- 
 tradiction even to his own Character. Moft of your Non-Jurors 
 now are generally People of a free and open Difpofition, mightv 
 Pretenders to aConfcience of Honour indeed ; but you feldom. 
 fee them put on the lead: Shew of Religion : But this formal Hy- 
 pocrite always has it at his Tongue's end, and there it flicks, for 
 it never gets into his Heart, 111 aniwer for him. 
 
 Lady W. Ay, but that's the Charm that flrft got him into Sir 
 Johns Heart ; who, good Man, is himfelf, I am fure, iincere, 
 however now mifguided : 'twas not fo much his Principles of Go- 
 vernment, as his well-painted Piety, his feeming Selr-denial, Re- 
 fignation, Patience, and humble Outilde, that gave him firft fo 
 warm a Lodging in his Bofom. 
 
 ^\dar. My Lady has judg'd it perfectly right. 
 
 Col
 
 504 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Col. I am afraid it's too true : There has been his fureft foot- 
 
 in<*! But here we are puzzled again What-fubtle Fetch can 
 
 he^ have in being really in Love with your Ladyfhip, and at the 
 fame time making fuch a Buftle to marry my Sifter ? 
 
 Mar. Truly one would not fufpecl: him to be fo termagant ; I 
 fancy the Gentleman might have his hands full of one of us. 
 
 Col. And yet his Zeal pretends to be io fhock'd at all indecent 
 Amours, that in the Country he us'd to make the Maids lock up 
 the Turkey-cocks every Saturday Night, for fear they ihould. gallant 
 the Hens on a Sunday. 
 
 Lady W. O ! ridiculous. 
 
 Col." Upon my Life, Madam, my Sifter told me fo. 
 
 Alar. 1 tell you fo : You impudent 
 
 LadyVf. Fie! <*Maria, he only jefts with you. 
 
 Mar. How can you be fuch a Monfter, to be playing the fool 
 here, when you have more reafon to be frighted out of your Wits ? 
 You don't know, perhaps, that my Father declares he'll fettle a 
 Fortune upon this Fellow too. 
 
 Col. What do you mean ? 
 
 Lady W. 'Tis too true ; tis not three Minutes fince he (aid (6. 
 
 CoL Nay, then 'tis time indeed his Eyes were open'd ; and give 
 me leave to {ay, Madam, 'tis only in your power to fave not only 
 me, but even my Father too from Ruin. 
 
 Lady W. I friall eafily come into any thing of that kind, that's 
 practicable What is't you propofe f 
 
 Col. Why, if this Fellow (which I am fure or ) is really in love 
 with you, give him a fair Opportunity to declare himielf, and 
 leave me to make my Advantage or it. 
 
 Lady W. I apprehend you— I am loth to do a wrong thing 
 
 oTktar. Dear Madam, it's the only Way in the World to expofe 
 him to my Father. 
 
 Lady W. I'll think of it ^ [Mufing^ 
 
 Col. When you do, Madam, I'm fure you'll come into it. How 
 now ! what Paper's this ? It's the Doctor's Hand. 
 
 Mar. I believe my Father dropt it. 
 
 Col. What's here ? [Reads.'] 
 
 Laid
 
 The Non-Juror. 30^ 
 
 Laid out at fever a I times for the Secret Service of His M- 
 
 l. s. d. 
 
 A%the 28th, For fix Baskets of Rue and Time, 00 18 00 
 
 The 19th ditto, Two Cart-loads of Oaken Boughs, — 02 00 OO 
 
 June I oth, For ten Bufhels of White Rofes, 01 10 OO 
 
 Ditto, Given to the Bell-ringers of feveral Parifhes, 10 15 OO 
 
 Ditto, — To Simon Chaunter, Parifri-Clerk, for his fe-> . 
 
 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. 
 
 <SMar. Then you were bred a Roman Catholick. 
 
 Charles. No, Madam ; but I own in Principles of very little 
 Difference, which I imbib'd chiefly from this Doctor, he having 
 been five Years my Governor. As I grew up, my Father's Merit 
 had rais'd his Fortune under the prefent Government ; and fear- 
 ing I might be too tar fix'd in Principles againft it, defir'd me 
 from my Uncle home again : But I, as I then thought myfelf 
 bound in Gratitude, excus'd my going, in Terms ot Duty to my 
 Father ; whom fince, alas ! I too jultlv have provok'd ever to 
 hope a Reconciliation. I law too late my Folly, and had no 
 Defence againft his Anger, but by artfully confirming him in a 
 Belief, that I had peiilh'd with my Uncle in the late Rebellion. 
 
 Mar. Blefs us ! what do you mean ? you were not actually in 
 it, I hope ! 
 
 Charles. I can't difown the Guilt but fince the Roval Mercy 
 
 has been refus'd to none that frankly have confefs'd with Peni- 
 
 -tence their Crime (which from my Heart I molt iincerely do) in 
 
 that is all my Hope My Youth and Education's all tlieExcufe 
 
 Vol. II. S f I
 
 514 The Non-Juror. 
 
 I plead ; If they deferve no Pity, I am determin'd to throw off 
 my Difguife, and bow me to the Hand of Juftice. 
 
 Mar. Poor Creature ! Lord ! I can't bear it. [With Concern. 
 
 Charles. But then unknown, and friendlefs as I am ; to whom, 
 alas ! can I apply for Succour ? [Weeps. 
 
 Mar. O Lord ! I'll ferve you, depend upon it : My Brother 
 fhall have no Reft till he gets your Pardon. 
 
 Charles. Your kind Companion, Madam, has prevented, what, 
 if I durft, I ihould have mention'd : I hope too I fhall personal- 
 ly deferve his Favour ; if not, your generous Inclination to have 
 fav'd me, even in my laft Defpair of Life, will give my Heart a 
 
 Joy. 
 
 cfflar. Lord ! the poor unfortunate Boy loves me too ; what 
 fhall I do with him } But, Mr. Charles, pray once more to your 
 Story What was it that really drew you into the Rebellion ? 
 
 Charles. This Doctor, Madam, who, as he is now your Father's; 
 was then my LTncle's Bofom-Counfellor : 'Twas his infidious 
 Tongue that painted it to us as an incumbent Duty, on which the 
 Welfare of our Souls depended ; he warm'd us too into mch a 
 weak Belief of vile Reports, as Infamy fliould blufh to mention. 
 
 ■ We were afTur'd, that half the Churches here in Town were 
 
 lying all in facrilegious Ruins ; which fince, I found, malicioufly 
 was meant, even of thofe that are magnificently riling from their 
 new Foundations ! 
 
 Mar. But, pray while you were in Arms, how did the Doc- 
 tor difpofe of himielf? 
 
 Charles. He ! went with us, Madam, none fo active in the 
 
 Front of Refolution, till Danger came to face him; then indeed 
 a friendly Fever feiz'd him, which on the firft Alarm of the King's 
 Forces marching towards Prejion, gave him a cold Pretence to 
 leave the Town ; in the Defence of which my Uncle loft his 
 Life, and I my only Friend, with all my long-fed Hopes of For- 
 tune. 
 
 esWar. Poor Wretch ! but how came you to avoid being Pri- 
 
 foner I 
 
 Charles. Upon our Surrender of the Place, I brib'd a Towns- 
 man to employ me, as his Servant, in a backward Working] 
 
 houfe;
 
 The Non-Juror. 31^ 
 
 houfe ; where, from my Youth, and Change of Habit, I pafs'd, 
 
 without Sufpicion, till the whole Affair was over But then, 
 
 alas ! whither to turn I knew not: My Life grew now no mo remy 
 Care Perifh, I faw, I muff j whether as a Criminal, or a Beg- 
 gar, was my only Choice. 
 
 Mar. O Lord! tell me quickly how you came hither. 
 
 Charles. In this Defpair I wander 'd up to London, where I 
 fcarce knew one Mortal, but fome few Friends in Prifon. What 
 could I do ? I ventur'd even thither for my Safety ; where 'twas 
 my Fortune firft to fee your Father, Madam, diftributing Relief 
 to feveral : He knew my Uncle well ; and being inform a of my 
 Condition, he charitably took me Home ; and here has ever fince 
 concealed me as a menial Servant to the Doctor. The Detefta- 
 tion of whofe vile, difhoneft Practices, at laft have wak'd me to a 
 Senfe of all my blinded Errors j of which this Writing is his leaft 
 of fordid Instances. [Gives it to Maria. 
 
 Mar. You frighten me j pray what are the Purpofes of it ? 'Tis 
 neither fign'd nor feal'd. 
 
 Charles. No, Madam ; therefore to prevent it, by this timely 
 Notice, was my Bufinefs here with you : Your Father gave it the 
 Doctor firfl to fhew his Counfel, who having fince approv'd it, I 
 underftand this Evening 'twill be executed. 
 
 Mar. But what is it 7 
 
 Charles. It grants to Dr. Wolf in prefent Four Hundred Pounds 
 per annum, of which this very Houfe is part ; and at your Father's 
 Death invefts him in the whole Remainder of his Free Eftate. 
 For you indeed there is a Charge of Four Thoufand Pound upon 
 it, provided you marry only with the Doctor's Confent j if not, 
 'tis added to my Lady's Jointure. But your Brother, Madam, is, 
 without Conditions, utterly disinherited. 
 
 Mar. I am confounded — — what will become of us ? my Fa- 
 ther now, I find, was ferious O this infmuating Hypocrite ! 
 
 let me fee ay 1 will go this Minute Sir, dare 
 
 you truft this in my hands for an Hour only ? 
 
 Charles. Any thing to ferve you my Life's already in your 
 
 hands. 
 
 S f 1 Mar.
 
 316 The Non.Juror. 
 
 Mar. And I dare fecure it with my own — -Hark ! they ring 
 to Dinner ; pray, Sir, flep in, fay I am obligd to dine Abroad, 
 and whifper one of the Footmen to get a Hackney Coach im- 
 mediately ; then do you take a proper Occafion to flip out after 
 me to Mr. Doubles Chambers in the Temple, there I fhall have 
 
 time to talk farther with you. You'll excfue my Hurry —Here, 
 
 Betty, my Scarf and a Mask. [Exit Maria. 
 
 Charles. What does my Fortune mean me ? She'll there talk 
 farther with me ! Of what ! What will fhe talk of ? O my Heart ! 
 methought fhe look'd at parting too, as kindly confcious of fome 
 Obligation to me : And then how foft, how amiably tender was 
 her Pity of my Fortune. But O ! I rave ; keep down, my vain 
 afpinng Thoughts, and to my loft Condition level all my Hopes. 
 
 Rather content with Pity let me live, 
 
 Than hope for more than fhe resolves to give. [Exit. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Maria, and Betty taking off her Scarf &c. 
 
 Mar. IPS AS any one been to fpeak with me, Betty ? 
 
 §yy| Betty. Only Mr. Heartley, Madam ; he laid he would 
 call again, and bid his Servant flay below to give him Notice 
 when you came Home. 
 
 Alar. You don't know what he wanted ? 
 
 Betty. No, Madam, he feem'd very uneafy at your being A- 
 broad. 
 
 Mar. Well go and lay up thofe Things [Exit Betty. 
 
 Ten to One, but his wife Head now has found out fomething to 
 be jealous of ; if he lets me fee it, I fhall be fure to make him 
 infinitely eafy Here he comes. 
 
 Enter
 
 The Non-Juror. 317 
 
 Enter Heartly 
 
 Heart. Your humble Servant, Madam. } ^ , } 
 
 Mar. Your Servant, Sir. 3 *" 
 
 Heart. You have been abroad, I hear. 
 
 ft/lar. Yes j and now I am come home, you fee. 
 
 Heart. You feem to turn upon my Words, Madam; Is there 
 any thing particular in them ? 
 
 Mar. As much as there is in my being abroad, I believe. 
 
 Heart. Might not I fay you had been abroad, without giving, 
 offence ? 
 
 Mar. And might not I as well lay, I was come home, without 
 your being (o grave upon't ? 
 
 Heart. Do you know any thing fhould make me grave ? 
 
 Mar. I know, if you are fo, I am the worft Perfon in the World 
 you could poffibly fhew it to. 
 
 Heart. Nay, I don't fuppofe you do any thing. you won't juftify. 
 
 Mar. O ! then I find I have done fomething you think I can't 
 juftify. 
 
 Heart. I don't fay that neither j perhaps I am in the wrong in 
 what I have faid : but I have been fo often us'd to ask pardon 
 for your being in the wrong, that I am refolv'd henceforth never 
 to relie on the infolent Evidence of my own Senfes. 
 
 Mar. You don't know now, perhaps, that I think this pretty 
 fmart Speech of yours is very dull ; but fince that's a Fault you 
 can't help, I will not take it ill. Come now, be as fincere on 
 
 your fide, and tell me ferioully Is not what real Bufinefs I. 
 
 had abroad, the very thing you want to be made eafy in ? 
 
 Heart. If I thought you would make me eafy, I would own it. 
 
 Mar. Now we come to the Point To-morrow Morning 
 
 then, I give you my Word to let you know it all ; till when there 
 is a Neceility for its being a Secret, and I infift upon your be- 
 lieving it. 
 
 Heart. But pray, Madam, what am I to do with my private 
 Imagination in. the mean time? that is not in my power to con- 
 fine : And fure you won't be offended, if to avoid the Tortures 
 that may give me, I beg you'll truft me with the Secret now. 
 
 M.ir.
 
 318 The Non-Juror. 
 
 oJldar. Don't prefs me ; for pofitively I will not. 
 
 Heart. Cannot, had been a kinder Term Is my Difquiet of 
 
 fo little moment to you . ? 
 
 Mar. Of none, while your Difquiet dares not truft the AlTu- 
 rances I have given you : if you expect I Ihould confide in you 
 for Life, don't' let me fee you dare not take my Word for a Day ; 
 and if you are wife, you'll think Co fair a Tryal of your Faith a 
 
 Favour. 
 
 Heart. If you intend it fuch, it is a Favour; if not, Vis fome- 
 
 thing (^o come let's wave the Subject 
 
 Mar- With all my Heart. Have you feen my Brother lately ? 
 Heart. Yes, Madam, and he tells me, it feems the Doctor is 
 the Man your Father has refolv'd upon. 
 
 Mar. 'Tis fo ; nay, and what will more furprize you, he. leaves 
 me only to the choice of him, or of no Fortune. 
 
 Heart. And may I, without Offence, beg leave to know what 
 Refolutions, Madam, you have taken upon it ? 
 
 Mar. I have not taken any ; I do not know what to do : what 
 would you advife me to ? 
 
 Heart. I advife you to ? Nay, you are in the right to make it 
 a Queftion. 
 
 Mar. He fays he'll fettle all his Eftate upon him too. 
 Heart. O take it, take it, to be fure ; it's the fitteft Match in 
 the World; you can't do a wifer thing certainly. 
 
 Mar. 'Twill be as wife at leaft, as the Ways you take to pre- 
 vent it. 
 
 Heart. I find, Madam, I am not to know what you intend to 
 do ; and I fuppofe I am to be eafy at that too. 
 
 Mar. When I intend to marry him, I fhall not care whether 
 you are eafy or no. 
 
 Heart. If your Indifference to me were a Proof of your Incli- 
 nation to him, the Gentleman need not defpair. 
 
 Mar. Very well, Sir, I'll endeavour to take your Advice, I prc- 
 mife you. 
 
 Heart. O! that won't coft you much Trouble, I dare fay, 
 Madam. 
 
 Mar. About as much, I fuppofe, as it coft you to give it me. 
 
 Heart.
 
 77)e Non-Juror.' ^ip 
 
 Heart. Upon my Word, Madam, I give it purely to oblige you. 
 
 Mar. Then to return your Civility, the leaft I can do is to 
 take it. 
 
 Heart. Is't poflible? How can you torture me with this In- 
 difference ? 
 
 Mar. Why do you infult me with fuch a bare-fac'd Jealoufy ? 
 
 Heart. Is it a Crime to be concern'd for what becomes of you ? 
 Has not your Father openly declared againft me, in favour of my 
 Rival ? How is it poflible, at fuch a time, not to have a thou- 
 fand Fears ? What though they all are falfe and groundlefs, are 
 they not ftill the Effect of Love alarm'd, and anxious to be {a- 
 tisfied ? I have an open, artlefs Heart, that cannot bear Dif- 
 
 guifes, but when 'tis griev'd, in fpite of me, 'twill fhew it 
 
 Pray pardon me But when I am told you went out in the ut- 
 
 moft hurry with fome Writings to a Lawyer, and took the Doc- 
 tor's own Servant with you, even in the very Hour your Father 
 
 had propos'd him, as your Husband Good Heaven! what 
 
 am I to think ? Can I, muft I fuppofe my Senfes fail me ? . If 
 I have Eyes, have Ears, and have a Heart, muft it be ftill a Crime 
 to think I fee and hear — Yet, by my Torments, feel I love. 
 
 Mar. \_ytfide.~\ Well, I own it looks ill-natur'd now, not to fhew 
 
 him fome Concern But then this Jealoufy 1 muft, and will 
 
 get the better of. 
 
 Heart. Speak, Maria, is ftill my Jealoufy a Crime ? 
 
 o^lar. If you ftill infift on it as a Proof of Love, then I muft 
 tell you, Sir, 'tis of that kind, that only flighted Hearts are pleas'd 
 
 with ; when I am fo reduc'd, then perhaps I may bear it 
 
 The Fact you charge me with, I grant is true, I have been abroad, as 
 you fay : But ftill let Appearances look ne'er fo pointing, while 
 there is a Poftibility in Nature, that what I have done may be in- 
 nocent, I won't bear a Look, that tells me to my Face, you dare 
 fufpecl: me : If you have Doubts, why don't you fatisfy them be- 
 fore you fee me ? Can you fuppofe, that I am to ftand con- 
 founded, as a Criminal before you ? How defpicable a Figure 
 muft a Woman make, to bear but fuch a Moment r Come, come, 
 there's nothing fhews fo low a Mind, as thefe grave and infolent 
 Jealoufies. The Man that's capable of ever feeing a Woman, 
 
 after
 
 320 The Non- Juror. 
 
 after he believes her falfe,^ is capable, .on her Submiilion, and a 
 little Flattery, were Hie really falie, poorly to forgive and bear it. 
 
 Heart. You won't find me, Madam, of fo low a Spirit ; bur 
 fince I fee your Tyranny arifes from your mean Opinion of me, 
 'tis Time to be myfelf" and difavow your Power, you ufe it now 
 beyond my bearing ; not only impofe on me to disbelieve my 
 Senfes, but do it with fiich an imperious Air, as if my honeft 
 manly Reafon were your Slave ; and this poor groveling Frame, 
 that follows you, durft fhew no Signs of Lite, but what you 
 .deign to give it. 
 
 Mar. Oh ! you are in the right go on fufpect me ftill, 
 
 believe the word: you can 'tis all true- — I don't juftify my- 
 
 felf Why do you trouble me with your Complaints ? If you 
 
 are Matter of that manly Reafon you have boafted, give me a 
 manly Proof of it, at once relume your Liberty, defpife me, go, 
 go off in Triumph now, and let me fee you fcorn the Woman, 
 whofe vile o'erbearing Falfhood would infult your Senfes. 
 
 Heart. O Heaven ! is this the End of all ? Are then thofe 
 tender Proteflations you have made me (for- fuch I thought them) 
 when with the fbftefl kind Reluctance your fifing Blufhes gave me 
 
 Something more than Hope What all O Maria ! All 
 
 but come to this ? 
 
 Mar. [j4fide.~] O Lud ! I am growing filly, if I hear on, I 
 fhall tell him every thing ; 'tis but another Struggle, and I fhall 
 conquer it So — — you are not gone, 1 fee. 
 
 Heart. Do you then wifh me gone, Madam ? 
 
 Mar. Your manly Reafon will direct you. 
 
 Heart. This is too much my Heart can bear no more. O ! 
 
 What . ? Am I rooted here ! 'Tis but a Pang, and I am free 
 
 for ever. 
 
 Enter Charles, zvith two Writings. 
 Mar. At laft I am relieved ! Well, Mr. Charles, is it done ? 
 Charles. I did not flir from his Desk, Madam, till it was en- 
 tirely finifhed. 
 
 Mar. Where is the Original ? 
 Charles. This is it, Madam. 
 
 Mar.
 
 The Non-Juror. 321 
 
 Mar. Very well; that, you know, you muft keep: but come, we 
 muft loofe no time, we will examine this in the next Room. 
 Now I feel for him. [Afide. 
 
 [Exit Maria, with Charles. 
 
 Heart. O Rage ! Rage ! this is not to be borne She's gone, 
 
 fhe's loft, fbrdidly has fold herfelf to Fortune, and I muft now 
 
 forget her Hold, if poflible, let me cool a Moment In- 
 
 tereft ! No, that could not tempt her She knows I'm Mafter 
 
 of a larger Fortune, than there her utmoft Hopes can give her, 
 
 that on her own Conditions fhe may be mine But what's this 
 
 fecret Treaty then within ? what's doing there ? who can refolve 
 
 that Riddle And yet perhaps, like other Riddles, when 'tis ex- 
 
 plain'd, nothing may feem (o eafy. But why again, might fhe not 
 truft me too with the Secret ! That ! that entangles all afrefh, and 
 fets me on the Rack of Jealoufy. 
 
 Enter Colonel. 
 
 Col. How now, Frank ! what in a Rapture ? 
 
 Heart. Prithee pardon me ; I am unfit to talk with you. 
 
 Col. What is Maria in her Airs a^ain ? . 
 
 Heart. I know not what fhe is. 
 
 Col. Do you know where fhe is ? 
 
 Heart. Retir'd this Moment to her Chamber, with the Doctor's 
 Servant. 
 
 Col. Whv, thou art not jealous of the Doctor, I hope ? 
 
 Heart. Perhaps fhe'll be lefs referv'd to you, and tell you wherein 
 I have miftaken her. 
 
 Col. Poor Frank! thou art a perfect Sir Martin in thy Amour ; 
 every Plot I lav upon mv Sifter's Inclination for thee, thou art 
 fure to ruin by thy own unfortunate Conduct. 
 
 Heart. I own I have too little Temper, and too much real 
 Pallion for a modifh Lover. 
 
 Col. Come, come, prithee be eafy once more ; I'll undertake 
 for you, if you'll fetch a cool Turn in the Park upon Conjiitution- 
 Hitt, in lefs than half an Hour I'll come to you. 
 
 Heart. Dear Tom, thou art a Friend- indeed ! O I have a thoufand 
 
 things But you fliall find me there. [Exit Heartlev. 
 
 Vol. II. Tt Col.
 
 322 The Nonjuror. 
 
 Col. Poor Frank] now has he been taking fome honefl Pains 
 to make himfelf miferable. 
 
 Enter Maria and Charles. 
 How now, Sifter ; What have you done to Hearth) ? The poor 
 Fellow looks as if he had kill'd your Parrot. 
 
 offtdar. P£ha ! you know him well enough : I have only been 
 fetting him a Love-LeiTon ; it a little puzzles him to get through 
 it at full, but hell know it all by to-morrow: You will be lure 
 to be in the way, Mr. Charles ? 
 
 Charles. Madam, you may depend upon me, I have my lull 
 In ft ructions. [Exit Ci-iarles. 
 
 Col. O ho ! there's die Bufmefs then ; and it feems Heartlej was 
 not to be trufted with it ; ha! ha! And prithee what is this mighty 
 Secret, that's tranfacling between Charles and you ? 
 
 Mar. That's what he would have known indeed ; but you muft 
 know, I don't think it proper to let you tell him neither, for all 
 your ily manner of asking. 
 
 Col. O ! pray take your own time, Dear Madam, I am not in 
 hafle to know, 1 can allure you ; 1 came about another Affair, our 
 Delign upon the Do&or : Now while my Father takes his Nap af- 
 ter Dinner, would be the propereft time to put it in execution j 
 prithee go to my Lady, and perfuade her to it this Moment. 
 
 Mar. Why won't you go with me ? 
 
 Col. No, I'll place myTelf unknown to her in this Pallage ; for 
 fhould I tell her I defign to over-hear him, Ihe might be fcru- 
 pulous. 
 
 Mar. That's true But hold, on fecond thoughts, you fhall 
 
 know part of this Affair between Charles and me ; nay, I give you 
 leave to tell it Heartley too, on fome Conditions : 'tis true, I did 
 
 defign to have furpriz'd you j but now my Mind's alter'd, that's 
 
 enough. 
 
 Col. Ay, for any Mortal's Satisfaction But here comes my Lady. 
 
 Mar. Away then to your Poft- — -but let me fee you when 
 this Affair is over. 
 
 CoL I'll be with you. [Exit Col. 
 
 Enter
 
 The Non-Juror. 323 
 
 Enter Lady Woodvil. 
 
 Mar. Well, Madam, has your Ladyfhip confider'd my Brother's 
 Propoial about the Doctor? 
 
 Lady W. I have, Child, and am convinc'd it ought not to be 
 
 delay'd a Moment : I have juft fent to {peak with him here — 
 
 Sir John too preffes me to give him a Hearing on your account ; 
 but muft I play a treacherous Part now ? and inftead or perfuading 
 you to the Doctor, even perfuade the Doctor againil you ? 
 
 ^Mar. Dear Madam, don't be fo nice; if Wives were never 
 to diiTemble, what would become of many a wilful Husbands 
 Happinefs ? 
 
 Lady W. Nay, that's true too. 
 
 Mar. I'd give the World now, methinks, to fee this folemn In- 
 terview -, fure there can't be a more ridiculous Image, than un- 
 lawful Love, peeping his fly Head out from under the Cloak of 
 Sanctity. O! that I were in your Lady ffiip's Place, I would lead 
 
 that dancing Blood of his fucli a profane Courant Your wife 
 
 Fellows make the rareft Fools too : but your Ladyfhip will make a 
 Rogue of him ; and that will do our Bufinefs at prefent. 
 
 Lady W. If he makes himfelf one, 'tis his own Fault. 
 
 Mar. Dear Madam, one Moment's Truce with the Prude, I beg 
 you ; don't ftart at his firft Declaration, but let him go on, till he 
 {hews the very bottom of his ugly Heart. 
 
 Lady W. Til warrant you 111 give a good Account of him 
 
 Here he comes. 
 
 Mar. Then I hope, Madam, you'll give me leave to be Com- 
 mode, and fteal om 
 
 Lady W. Very well, [Exit Maria, and enter Doctor. 
 
 Doc?. I am told, Madam, you defign me the Happinefs of 
 your Commands ; I am proud you think me worthy or them in 
 any fort. 
 
 Lady W. Pleaie to fit, Sir. 
 
 Dod. Did not Sir John inform you too, that I had defir'd a 
 private Conference with your Ladylhip ? 
 
 Lady W. He did, Sir. 
 
 ~Dq&. 'Tis then by his Permillion we are thus happily alone. 
 
 Tt 1 Lady
 
 324 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Lady W. True ; and 'tis on that account I wanted to advife with 
 
 you. 
 
 Doff. Well, but dear Lady, ah ! [Sighing] you cant conceive 
 the Joyoufnefs I reel in this fo unexpected Interview; ah ! ah! I 
 
 have a thoufand friendly things to fay to you Ah! ah! And 
 
 how ftands your precious Health ? is your naughty Cold abated 
 yet? I have fcarce clofed my Eyes thefe two Nights, with my 
 Concern for you, and every watchiul Interval has lent a thoufand 
 Sighs and Prayers to Heaven for your Recovery. 
 '"Lady W. Your Charity was too far concern'd for me. 
 
 Doff. Ah! don't fay ib, dont fay fo you merit more than 
 
 Mortal Man can do for you. 
 
 Lady W. Indeed you over-rate me. 
 
 Doff. I fpeak it from my Soul, indeed ! indeed ! indeed ! I do. 
 
 [Prcjjcs her Hand. 
 Lady W. O dear, you hurt my Hand, Sir. 
 Doff. Impute it to my Zeal, and want of Words to exprefs my 
 Heart : ah ! I would not harm you for the World ; no, bright 
 Creature, 'tis the whole Bufinefs of my Soul to — 
 Lady W. But to our Affair, Sir, 
 Doff. Ah! thou Heavenly Woman ! 
 
 [Laying his Hand on her Knee. 
 Lady W. Your Hand need not be there, Sir. 
 Doff. Ah! I was admiring the Softnefs of this Silk, Madam. 
 Lady W. Ay, but I am ticklifh. 
 Doff. They are indeed come to a prodigious Perfection in this 
 
 Manufacture How wonderful is human Art! — Here it difputes 
 
 the Prize with Nature That all this foft and gaudy Lulire 
 
 fhould be wrought from the poor Labours of a Worm ! 
 
 [Stroking it. 
 
 Lady W. But our Bufinefs, Sir, is upon another Subject : Sir 
 
 John informs me, that he thinks himfelf under no Obligation to 
 
 Mr. Heartley, and therefore refolves to give you Maria : Now 
 
 pray be fincere, and let me know what your real Intentions are. 
 
 Doff. Is it pollible ? Can you, divine Perfection, be frill a 
 Stranger to my real Thoughts ? Has no one Action of my Life 
 inform d you better ? Since I mult plainly fpeak them then, Marias 
 
 DUX
 
 The Non-Juror/ 32^ 
 
 but a Feint, a Blind to skreen my real Thoughts from flirewd Suf- 
 picion's Eye, and fhield your fpotlefs Fame from worldly Cenfure. 
 Could you then think, 'twas for Marias Take, your Balls, Aifem- 
 blies, and your toilet Viflts have been redrain'd ? Would I have 
 urg'd Sir John to make that Fence to inclofe a Butterfly ? No, foft 
 and ferious Excellence, your Virtues only were the Object of my 
 Care : I could not bear to fee the Gay, the Young, and the In- 
 condant, daily basking in your difrufive Beams of Beauty, without 
 a fecret Grudge, I might fay Envy, even of fuch Infects Happinefs. 
 
 Lady W. Well, Sir, I take all this, as I fuppofe you intended 
 it, for my Good, my Spiritual Welfare. 
 
 Dotf. Indeed I meant you ferious, cordial Service. 
 
 LadyVJ. I dare fay you did; you are above the low and mo- 
 mentary Views or this World. 
 
 Dotf. Ah! I fhould be fo And yet, alas! I find this mor- 
 tal Cloathing of my Soul is made like others Mens, of fenfual 
 Fiefh and Blood, and has its Frailties. 
 
 Lady W. We all have thofe, but yours I know are well correct- 
 ed by your divine and virtuous Contemplations. 
 
 Doff. And yet our Knowledge of eternal Beauties do not re- 
 main us wholly from the Love of all that's Mortal -Beauty 
 
 here, 'tis true, mud die; but while it lives, 'twas given us to ad- 
 mire, to wake the fluggifh Heart, and charm the fenfible : At the 
 firft Sight of you I felt unufual Tranfports in my Soul, and trem- 
 bled at the Guilt that might enfue ; but on Reflection, found my 
 Flame receiv'd a Sanction from your Goodnefs, and might be re- 
 concil'd with Virtue : on this I chaced my flandrous Fears, let in 
 the harmlefs Pailion at my Eyes, and gave up all my Heart to- 
 Love. 
 
 Col. [Behind^] Indeed! fo warm, Sir Roger ; but I fhall cool 
 your Paflion with a witnefs. [Exit. 
 
 LadyW. Thefe gay Profeflions, Sir, fhew more the Courtier 
 than the Zealot; nor could I think a Mind fo fortify'd as your's, 
 could have been open to fuch vain Temptations. 
 
 Doci. What Boibm can be Proof gaind fuch Artillery of Love I 
 I may refid, call all my Prayers, my Fadings, Tears, and Penance 
 to my Aid; but yet, alas! thefe have not made an Angel of me: 
 
 I
 
 $z6 The Nonjuror. 
 
 I am ftill but Man, Virtue may flrive, but Nature will be upper- 
 moft : Permit me then, on this fair Shrine, to pay my Vows, 
 and "offer up a Heart 
 
 Lady W. Hold, Sir, you've faid enough to put you in my 
 Power ; fuppofe I now fliould let my Husband, Sir, your Bene- 
 raclor, know the Favour you defignd him. [She rifes. 
 
 Doff. You cannot be io cruel. 
 
 Lady W. Nor will, on one Condition. 
 
 Doff. Name it. 
 
 Lady W. That inftantly you renounce all Claim and Title to 
 Maria, and life your utmoft Intereft with Sir John to give her, 
 with her full Fortune, to Mr. Heartley ; if you are wife, confider 
 on't. [Sir John and the Colonel behind; the Doff or, turning ac- 
 
 cidentally, fees them. 
 
 Doff. Ha ! the Colonel there ! his Father with him too ! here 
 may have been fome Treachery ; what's to be done ? [Afide. 
 
 Col. Now, Sir, let your Eyes convince you. -^ 
 
 Sir John. They do, that yours, Sir, have deceiv'd( A 
 you j all this I knew of. >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. 
 
 <SMar. Well, on one Provifo, I'll undertake that 60o T 
 
 Doff. Name it. 
 
 Mar. Upon your immediately owning to my Eather, that you 
 are willing to s;ive up your Intereit to Mr. Heart ley. 
 
 Doff. Humph ! ftay 1 agree to it — You fnall have proof of 
 
 it this Evening; — But in the mean me U me warn you too< 
 Don't expect, . after I have hinted what you defire to your Father, 
 to make your Advantages now, by ber -aying me to him: You 
 know my Power there ; if you do, I can raffly give it a Counter- 
 turn : So difcover what you pleafe, I fliall only pity you. 
 
 ojkfar. O ! I fliall not ftand in my own Light j I know your 
 Power and your Confcience too well, dear Doctor. 
 
 Doff. Nay, I dare depend upon your being true to your own 
 Intereft. Here comes your Fat ler, I will bre~k it to him imme- 
 diately. You'll prepare Mr. Heart ley in the mean time I 
 
 Mar. Without fad.
 
 The Non-Juror. 339 
 
 J3ofi. I am fatisfied. 
 
 Enter Sir John. 
 
 Sir John. Well, Sir, is my Daughter prudent ? Has fhe at laft 
 a true and virtuous Senfe of Happinefs ? 
 
 Dott. She underftands me better than I hoped, Sir. 
 
 Mar. Well laid, Equivocation. [Afide. 
 
 Doff. If you pleafe, Sir John, we'll take a turn in the Garden ; 
 I have fbmething there to offer to you. 
 
 Sir John. With all my Heart, Sir Maria 
 
 There's a Toy for thee Now thou art again my Daughter. 
 
 [Gives her a Ring. 
 
 Come, Sir, I wait on you. [Exeunt Sir John and Dottor. 
 
 Mar. What this Fellow's Original was, I know not ; but by his 
 
 Confcience and Cunning, he would make an admirable Jefuit 
 
 Here comes my Brother, and I hope with a good Account of 
 him Well, Brother, what Succefs ? 
 
 Enter Colonel. 
 
 Col. All that my honeft Heart could wifh for Subftantial 
 
 Affidavits, that will puzzle him to anfwer ; I have planted a Me£ 
 fenger at the next Door, who has a Warrant in his Pocket, when 
 I give the word, to take him. 
 
 Mar. Why fhould not you do it immediately ? he's now in 
 the Garden with my Father. 
 
 Col. No ; our feizing him now for Treafon, I am afraid, won't 
 convince my Father of his Villany : My Defign is not only to 
 get my Father out of his hands, but to drive th& pernicious Prin- 
 ciples he has inftill'd, out of my Father too. 
 
 ePkfar. That I doubt will be difficult. 
 
 Col. Not ar all, if we can .firft prove him a private Villain to 
 him : My Father's Honefty will foon reflect, and may receive as 
 fudden a Turn as his Credulity. 
 
 Mar. That's true again; and I hope I am furnifh'd with a new 
 Occalion to begin the Alarm to him. 
 
 Col. Pray what is't I 
 
 Xx z Mar.
 
 340 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Mar. Not to trouble you with Particulars ; but in Aiort, I have 
 agreed with the Doff or, That Heartley fhall give him two thouf and 
 Pounds for his Content ; without which, you know, by my Fa- 
 ther's late Settlement, Heartley and I can never come together. 
 
 Col. And does the Monfter really infift upon't ? 
 
 Alar. Not only that, but even denes me to make an Advantage 
 of the Difcovery. 
 
 Col. One would think the Villain fufpects his Footing in the 
 Family is but fhort-liv'd, he is in fuch hafte to have his Penny- 
 worths out on't. But prithee, Sifter, what Secret's this, that you 
 have yet behind, in thofe Writings that Charles brought to you ? 
 
 Mar. Oh ! that's what I can't yet tell you. 
 
 Col. Why, pray? 
 
 eTkfar. Becaufe, when you have done all you can, I am re- 
 folv'd to referve fome Merit againft him to myfelf. 
 
 Col. But why do you fuppoie I would not ailift in it I 
 
 Mar. You can't; it's now too Late. 
 
 Col. Pfhah I this is rafh and ridiculous. 
 
 Mar. Ay, may be Co : I fuppofe Heartley will be of that opi- 
 nion too: but if he is, you had better ad vile him to keep it to 
 himfelf. 
 
 Col. You will have your obftinate Way, I find. 
 
 Mar. It can't be worfe than yours, I'm fure : P\.emember how 
 you came off in your laft Project ; I know you meant well, but 
 you are dillnherited tor all that. 
 
 Col. That's no Surprize to me; but I am afhanVd however. 
 
 Mar. By the way, what have you done with Heartley ? Why 
 fs he not here ? 
 
 Col. He has been here ; but you muft excufe him : he was ob- 
 lig'd to call in hafte for Charles ; whom he took home with him 
 in his own Coach, where his Father waited to receive him. 
 
 Mar. The poor Boy by this time then has ieen him. Sure 
 their Meeting muft have been a moving Sight ; I would give the 
 World methinks, for a true Account of it. 
 
 Col. You'll have it from Heartley by and by ; 'tis at his Houfe 
 they meet : The Father, Sir Charles c Trueman, hapned to be 
 Heartley s intimate Acquaintance. 
 
 Man 

 
 The Non. Juror. 34! 
 
 Mar. Well ! I own Heartley has gaind upon me by this. 
 
 Col. I am glad to hear that at leaft But I mull let my Lady 
 know what Progrefs we have made in the DocJors Bufineis, and 
 beg her Afiiftance to finifh him. [Exit Col. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv. Madam, Mr. Heartley. 
 Mar. Delire him to walk in. 
 
 £nter Heartley. 
 
 Heart. To find you thus alone, Madam, was an Happinefs I 
 did not expect from the Temper of our laft parting. 
 
 Mar. I ihould have been as well pleas'd now to have been 
 thank'd, as reproach'd for my Good-Nature ; but you will be in 
 die right, I find. 
 
 Heart. Indeed you took me wrong : I literally meant, that 1 
 was afraid you would not (o fbon think I had deferv'd this Favour. 
 
 Mar. Well then, one of us has been in the wrong at leaft. 
 
 Heart. 'Twas I, I own it More is not in my power ; all 
 
 the Amends that have been, I have made you : My very Joy of 
 feeing you has waited, till what you had at heart unask'd, was' 
 perfected ; my own Pardon was poft-pon'd, till I had fecufd one* 
 even for a Rival's Life, whom you fb juftly had compailionated. 
 
 Mar. Pooh ! but why would you fay unask'd now ? Dorit you 
 
 confider your doing it Co is hair the Merit of the Action- 
 
 Lord ! you have no Art ; you fhould have left me to have taken, 
 notice of that ; only imagine now, how kind and handfbme an 
 Acknowledgement you have robb'd me of. 
 
 Heart. And yet how artfully you have paid it ? . With what a. 
 wanton, charming Eafe you play upon my Tendernefs ? . 
 
 oZMar. Well, but was not you filly now ? 
 
 Heart. (Gating on her) Come You ihall not be ferious — 
 
 You can't be more agreeable. 
 
 Mar. O! but I am ferious. 
 
 Heart. Then I'll be lb Do you forgive me all ? 
 
 Mar. What ? [Looking on her Fan, as not hearing him, 
 
 Heart, Are we Friends, Maria I 
 
 Mar.
 
 342- The Non-Juror. 
 
 Mir. O Lord ! but you have told me nothing of poor Charles ! 
 Pray how did his Father receive him I 
 
 Heart. Muft you needs know that before you anfwer me ? 
 
 Mar. Lord ! you are never well till you have talk'd one out 
 of Countenance. 
 
 Heart. Come, I won't be too particular, you fliall anfwer no- 
 thing Give me but your Hand only. 
 
 Mar. Pfliah ! I won't pull off my Glove, not I. 
 
 Heart. I'll take it as it is then. 
 
 Mar. Lord ! there, there, eat it, eat it. 
 
 [Putting it azvkardly to him. 
 
 Heart. And Co I could by Heav'n. 
 
 [IOj]es it eagerly, and pulls off her Glove. 
 
 Mar. O my Glove ! my Glove! my Glove ]— Pooh ! you 
 
 are in a perfect Storm ! Lord ! if you make mch a Rout with 
 one's Hand only, what would you do if you had one's Heart ? 
 
 Heart. That's impoilible to tell But you were asking me of 
 
 Charles, Madam ? 
 
 Mir. O ! ay, that's true ! Well, now you are good again - 
 
 Come, tell me all that Affair, and then you fhall lee how I 
 
 will like you. [Wantonly. 
 
 Heart. O ! that I could thus play with Inclination ! 
 
 Mar. Pfhah ! but you don't tell me now. 
 
 Heart. There is not much to tell Where two fuch tender 
 
 Paffions met, Words had but faintly fpoke them. The Son, con- 
 ducted to the Door, with fudden Fear ft opt fhort, and burfting 
 into Sighs, overcharg'd with Shame and Joy, had almoft fainted 
 in my Arms : The Father, touch'd with his Concern, mov'd for- 
 ward with a kindly Smile to meet him. At this he took new Life, 
 and, fpringing from his Hold, fell proftrate at his Feet ; where, 
 mute and trembling, for a while he lay. At length, with ftream- 
 ing Eyes, and faukring Tongue, he begg'J his Bieding, and his 
 Pardon. The tender Father caught him JnTffs Arms, and, drop- 
 ping his fond Head upon his Cheek, kifs'd him, and ligh'd out, 
 Heaven -protect thee ! then gave into his Hand the Royal Par- 
 don ; and turning back his Face to dry his manly Eyes, he cry'd, 
 Deferve this Royal Mercy, Charles, and J am flill thy Father. 
 
 The
 
 The Non. Juror. 343 
 
 The grateful Youth, railing his Heart-fwoln Voice, reply'd, May 
 Heaven preferve the Royal Life that gave it ! But here their Paf- 
 fions grew too ftrong tor further Speech ; fllent Embraces, alter- 
 nate Sighs, and mingling Tears, were all their Language now. 
 The moving Scene became too tender for my Eyes, and called, 
 methought, for Privacy ; there, unperceiv'd, I left them, to re- 
 cover into breathing Senfe, and utterable Joy. 
 
 Mar. Well ! of all the inmoft Tranfports of the Soul, there's 
 none that dance into the Heart like friendly Reconcilements. 
 
 Heart. Thofe Tranfports might be ours, Maria, would vou 
 but try your Power to pardon. 
 
 Mar. Which of thole two now do you think was happieil at 
 that Meeting ? 
 
 Heart. O ! the Father, doubtlefs ; Great Souls feel a kind of 
 honeft Glory in forgiving, that far exceeds the Transport of re- 
 ceiving Pardon. 
 
 Mar. Now I think to bend the ftubborn Mind to ask it, is an 
 equal Conqueft ; and the Joy fuperior to receive, where the Heart: 
 willies to be under Obligations. 
 
 Heart. Put me into the happy Boy's Condition, and I may then,, 
 perhaps, refolve you better. 
 
 oZMarXow fhall pofitively bring him into Acquaintance. 
 
 Heart. Upon my word I will. 
 
 Mar. And ihew him to all the Women of Tafle j and I'll havC- 
 you call him my pretty Fellow too. 
 
 Heart. I will indeea : But hear me- 1 
 
 Mar. I'm pofitive, if he had White Stockings, he would cue 
 down all the Danglers at Court in a Fortnight ! 
 
 Heart. O ! no doubt on't ; but 
 
 Mar. You can't conceive how prettily he makes Love now; 
 
 Heart. Not lb well as you make your Defence, Maria. 
 
 Mar. O Lord ! I had iorgot — he's to teach me Greek too. 
 
 Heart. O the. trirling Tyrant !, How long, J r.ria y do you think 
 you can find out new Evafions for what I fay unto yon. 
 
 Mar. Lord! you are horrid filly ! But fmce 'tis Love thac 
 
 makes you fuch a Dunce poor Heart ley 1 forgive you. 
 
 [Enter Colonel, unfeen; 
 Heart,
 
 344 The Nonjuror. 
 
 Heart. That's kind, however But, to compleat my Joy, be 
 
 kinder yet and : — 
 
 Mar. O! I can't, I can't — Lord ! did you never ride a Horfe- 
 Match ? 
 
 Heart. Was ever Co wild a Queftion ? 
 
 Mar. Becaufe it" you have, it runs in my head, you certainly 
 gallop'd a Mile beyond the Winning-Poll: to make lure on't. ■ 
 
 Heart. Now I underitand you : But fince you will have me 
 touch every thing Co tenderly, Maria, how friall I find proper 
 Words to ask you the Lover's laft neceifary Queftion ? 
 
 Mar. O ! there's a thoufand Points to be adjufted, before that's 
 anfwer'd. 
 
 Col. [Coming unexpectedly between them.~] Name them this mo- 
 ment then, for positively this is the laft Time of asking. 
 
 Mar. Pftiah ! Who fent for you ? 
 
 Col. I only came to teach you to (peak plain Englifh, my Dear. 
 
 Mar. Lord ! mind your own Bufinefs, can't you ? . 
 
 Col. So I will : for I will make you do more of vours in two 
 Minutes, than you would have done without me in a Twelve- 
 month. Why, how now ! What ! do you think the Man's to 
 dangle after your ridiculous Airs for ever ? 
 
 efylar. This is mighty pretty. 
 
 Col. You'll fay fo on Thurfday Seven-night, for (let Affairs take 
 what Turn they will in the Family) that's pofitively your Wed- 
 ding-Day Nay, you fhan't ftir. 
 
 Mar. Was ever fuch Aflurance ? 
 
 Heart. Upon my Life, Madam, I am out of Countenance, I 
 don't know how to behave myfelf to him. 
 
 Mar. No, no, let him go on, only This is beyond what- 
 ever was known, fure ! 
 
 Heart. Admirable ! I hope it will come to fomething. \_Afide. 
 
 Col. Ha ! ha \ if I were to leave you to yourfelves now, what 
 a Couple of pretty Out-or-countenance Figures you would make ; 
 humming and hawing upon the vulgar Point of Jointure and 
 
 Pin-Money Come! come! I know what's proper o' both 
 
 Sides, you fhall leave it to me. 
 
 Heart. I had rather Maria would name her own Terms to me. 
 
 Col. 
 i
 
 The NonJuror. 34? 
 
 Col Have you a mind to any thing particular ? [To Maria- 
 
 <£fylar. Why fure ! What do you think Tin only to be filled 
 out here as you pleafe, and fweetned, and Tipped up like a Difh 
 of Bohea ? 
 
 Col. Why, pray Madam, when your Tea s ready, what have you 
 to do but to drink it ? But you, I fuppofe, expect a Lovers 
 Heart, like your Lamp, fhould be always flaming at your Elbow 7 
 and when it's ready to go out, you indolently fupply it with the 
 Spirit of Contradiction. 
 
 Mar. And To, you fuppofe, that your AlTurance has made an 
 end of this Matter ? . 
 
 Col. Not till you have given him your Hand upon it. 
 
 Mar. That then would compleat it ? 
 
 Col. Perfectly. 
 
 Mctr. Why, then take it, Heart ley. [Giving her Hand to Heart. 
 
 Heart. O foft Surprize ! Eciiatick Joy ! 
 
 Mar. Now I pref ume you are in high Triumph, Sir. \T6 the Col. 
 
 Col. No, Sifter, now you are confident with that good Senfe I 
 always thought you Miftrefs of. 
 
 Mar. I'm afraid, Mr. Heartley, we are both obligd to him. 
 
 Heart. If you think {o, Maria 
 
 My Heart is under double Obligations laid. [Embracing him. 
 
 Col. It it cements our Friendffnp, I am overpaid. [Exeunt. 
 
 A C T V. 
 
 Heartley and Maria. 
 
 MarJW^MELL, now, Heartley, you have nothing to do but to 
 
 £&i§ 1°°^ forward, and, if poflible, to forget what I have 
 
 been to you ; tho' 'tis a horrid Reftraint you lay upon 
 
 our Sex : You firft make it the Bufinefs of your Lives to blow up 
 
 our Vanity, and then prepofteroufly expect we fhould be prudent 
 
 Vol. II, Y y and
 
 346 The Non-Juror. 
 
 and humble ; that is, you invite us to a Feaft, where 'tis criminal 
 to tafte, or have an Appetite : You put a Sword into a Child's 
 Hand, and then are angry if it does Mifchief. 
 
 Heart. You give up too much, Maria ; I never treated you fo : 
 What might have been Flattery to moil: Women, was but honeft 
 Truth to you. 
 
 Alar. Why look you there now ! Is not that enough to turn 
 any poor Woman into a Changeling ? 
 
 Heart. No, becaufe 'tis true ; charge me with a Falfliood, and 
 I fubmit. 
 
 oTldar. Nay then, did you not once tell me, that all my Airs 
 and Follies were merely put on in compliance to the World, and 
 that good Senfe was only natural to me ; that ev'n my Affectation 
 (I have not forgot your words) carried more Sincerity, than the 
 ierious Vows of other Women. 
 
 Heart. By all my Happinefs I think Co ftill. 
 
 Mar. What ! ferioufly ? 
 
 Heart. Upon my Soul I do. 
 
 Mar. Lord ! that's delightful ! Do you really love me then, 
 Heartlej ? Do, tell me, tor now I begin to believe every thing 
 
 you fay to me. But don't neither 1 am vain ftill 'Twas 
 
 my Vanity that made me ask you. 
 
 Heart. Now I don't take it fo. 
 
 cPJdar. There was fome in't, I am fure, tho' it begins to dwin- 
 dle, I can tell you. 
 
 Heart. No matter, I love you as you are, I would not have 
 you lofe your Pleafantry, Maria. 
 
 Mar. Well, do, let me be filly fometimes. 
 
 Heart. O ! I can play with you, for that matter. 
 
 Mar. Pfhah ! you'll laugh at me. 
 
 Heart. Not while you are good in Effentials. 
 
 <£Mar. Indeed I'll be very good. 
 
 Heart. O fie ! that will be the way to make me Co. 
 
 Mar. Lord ! what fignifies Senfe, where there is fo much Plea- 
 fure in Folly ? 
 
 Heart. No perfect Paflion ever was without it ; the Pleafure 
 would fubfide, were we always to be wife in it. 
 
 Mar.
 
 The Non- Juror. 347 
 
 Mar. For my part I think Co : But will you really ftand to the 
 Agreement though, that I have made with the Doctor ? 
 
 Heart. Why not ? You {hall not break your word upon my 
 account, tho' he might be a Vil lain you gave it to. 
 
 Mar. Well, I take it as a Compliment j not but I have fome 
 hopes of getting over it, and juftly too ; but don't let me tell 
 
 you now. I love to furprize Though you fhall know all, if 
 
 you defire it. 
 
 Heart. No, Maria, I don't want the Secret; I am fatisfied in 
 your Inclination to trail me. 
 
 Mar. Well then, I'll keep the Secret, only to fhew you, that 
 you, upon Occafion, may truft me with one. 
 
 Heart. After that, Maria, it would be wronging you to ask it : 
 But pray Madam, has the Doctor yet given you any Proof of his 
 having declin'd his Intereft to your Father ? 
 
 Mar. Yes, he told me juft now, he had brought him to paufe 
 upon it, and does not queftion in two Days to compleat it ; but 
 defiles, in the mean time, you will be ready and punctual with the 
 Premium. 
 
 Heart. Suppofe I fhould talk with Sir John myfelf : 'tis true, he 
 has flighted me of late, but, however, I ought at leaft to ask 
 his Confent, though I have but little hopes or it. 
 
 Mar. By all means, do fo Here he comes This may 
 
 open another Scene of Action too, that we are preparing for. 
 
 Enter Sir John and Lady Woodvil, who walks apart zvith Maria. 
 
 Sir John. Mr. Heart ley, I am glad I have met with you here. 
 
 Heart. I have endeavoured twice to-day, Sir, to pay my Re- 
 fpefts to you. 
 
 Sir John. Sir, I'll be plain with you 1 went out to avoid you ; 
 
 but where the Welfare of a Child is concern'd, you muft not 
 
 take it ill, if we don't ftand upon Ceremony. —However, fince 
 
 I have Reafbn now to be more in Temper, than perhaps I was ac 
 that time, I fhould be glad to talk with you. 
 
 Heart. I take it as a Favour, Sir. 
 
 Sir John. Sir, Dr. Wolf informs me, that he is well afTured 
 
 you were born the Year before the Revolution : Now, Sir, I 
 
 Y y 1 fhould
 
 348 The Non-Juror 
 
 fhould be glad to be well fatisfied in that Point J a greater Con- 
 fequence depending on it, perhaps, than you imagine. 
 
 Heart. Sir, I have been always told that was my Age ; but for 
 your further Satisfaction, I appeal to the Regifter. 
 
 Shjohn. Sir, I dare believe you, and am glad to hear it. 
 
 Heart. But pray, Sir, may I beg leave to ask, why you are fo 
 concerned to know this ? 
 
 Sir John. Becaufe, Sir, if this be true, I am fatisfied you may 
 be a Regular Chriftian ; the Doubt of which may have, perhaps, 
 done you fome Ditlervice in my private Opinion. 
 
 Heart. Sir, if that can reconcile me to it, I (hall be thankful 
 for the Benefit, without confidering why I diat way came to de- 
 ferve it. 
 
 Sir John. That Argument might hold us now too long. But 
 
 Sir, — ■ — here's the Cafe Your Principles and mine have the 
 
 Misfortune to differ : Yours being (as I take it) entirely on the 
 Revolution-Side. 
 
 Heart. If I am not mifinform'd, Sir, you yourfelf commanded 
 a Regiment in Defence of it. 
 
 Sir John. I did fo, and thought it juft. 'Twould be fruit- 
 
 lefs, perhaps, to offer you the Reafons, that fince have alter'd my 
 Opinion : But now, Sir, even fuppofing that I err in Principle, 
 you muft flill allow, that Confcience is the Rule that every no- 
 neft Man ought to walk by. 
 
 Heart. 'Tis granted, Sir. 
 
 Sir John. Tnen give me leave to tell you, Sir, that giving you 
 my Daughter, would be to act againft that Confcience I pretend 
 to, and consequently the fame Ties oblige me to beftow her, 
 
 where the fame Principles with mine, I think, deferve her. 
 
 Now, Sir, confult your own Honour, and tell me, how you can 
 ftill purfue my Daughter, without doing Violence to mine ? 
 
 Heart. But, Sir, to fhorten this Difpute j fuppofe the Doctor 
 (whom I prefume you defign her for) actually confents to give 
 me up his Interefl, might not that foften your Objections to me I 
 Sir John. But why do you fuppofe Sir, he would give up his In- 
 tereft f 
 
 Heart. I only judge from what your Daughter tells me, Sir. 
 
 Sir
 
 The Non. Juror. 34P 
 
 Six John. My Daughter ! 
 Heart. I appeal to her. 
 
 Mar. And I appeal even to yourfelf, Sir Has not the 
 
 Doctor juft now in the Garden fpoke in favour of Mr. Heartley. 
 to you ? Nay, pray Sir, be plain, becaufe more depends on that 
 than you can eafily imagine or believe. 
 
 Sir John. What fenielefs Inflnuation have you got in your 
 Head now ? 
 
 Mar. Be Co kind, Sir, firft to anfwer me, that I may be better 
 able to inform you. 
 
 Sir John. Well, I own he has declin'd his Intereftin favour of 
 Mr. Heartley : But I mull: tell you, Madam, he did it in fo mo- 
 deft, fo friendly, {o good-natur'd, fo confeientious a manner, that 
 I now think myfelf more, than ever, bound in Honour to eipoufe 
 him. 
 
 ePkfar. But now, Sir (only for Argument-fake) fuppofe I could 
 prove, that all this feeming Virtue was utterly artificial ; that his 
 Regard to Mr. Heartley was neither founded upon Modefty, 
 Friendfhip, Good-Nature, nor Conference ; or, in fhort, that lie 
 has bafely berray'd and fold the Truft you made him ; like a Vil- 
 lain, barter'd, bargain'd to give me to Mr. Heartley for half the 
 Four Thoufand Pound you have valu'd his Confent at : I fav* 
 fuppofe this were the Cafe, where would be his Virtue then, Sir ? 
 Sir John. And, 1 fay, 'tis impious to fuppofe it. 
 Heart, Under favour, Sir, how is it poflible your Daughter 
 could know the Doctor had fpoke to you upon this Head, if he 
 himfelf had not told her io, in confequence of his Agreement ? 
 
 Sit John. Sir, 1 don't admit your Confequence : Her knowing 
 it from him is no Proor~ that he might not itill refign her from a 
 Principle of Modefty or Good-Nature. 
 
 oZMar. Then, Sir, from what Principle mult you fuppofe that 
 I accufe him ? 
 
 Sit John. From an obftinate Prejudice to all that's Good and - 
 Virtuous. 
 
 Mar. That's too hard, Sir : What Blot has ftain'd my Life, that 
 you can think fo of me ? Bur, Sir, the worft your Opinioi i can 
 provoke me to, is to marry Mr. Heartley, without either hfs Con- 
 fent, or yours. Sir '
 
 3$o„ The Non-Juror. 
 
 Sir John. What, do you brave me, Madam ? 
 Mar. fin Terrs'] No, Sir, but I (corn a Lye, and will fo far 
 vindicate my Integrity, as to infift on your believing me ; if not, 
 as a Child whom you abandon, I have a right to throw myfelf 
 into other Arms tor Proreclion. 
 
 Heart. O Maria ! how thy Spirit charms me ! f Apart to her. 
 Sir John. I am confounded ! thofe Tears cannot be counterfeit, 
 nor can this be true. 
 
 Lady W. Indeed, my Dear, I fear it is, it would be cruel to 
 her Concern to think it wholly falfe ; can you fuppofe fhe'd urge 
 fo grofsan Accufation only to expoie herielf to thejuftice of 
 your Refentment I 
 
 Sir John. What are you againft him too ? then he has no Friend 
 but me ; and I cannot, at fo fhort a Warning, give him up to In- 
 famy and Bafenefs. 
 
 Lady W. Good Sir, be compos'd, and ask your Heart one far- 
 ther Queftion. 
 
 Sir John. What would you fay to me ? 
 
 Lady W. In all our mutual Courfe of Happinefs, have I ever 
 yet deceiv'dyou with a Falfhood ? 
 
 Sir John. Never, I grant it, nor has my honeft Heart yet 
 wrongfd thy Goodnefs with a jealous Thought of it. 
 
 Lady W. Would you then believe me, fhould I accufe him 
 too ? even of Crimes, that Vertue blufhes but to mention. 
 Sir John. To what Extravagance would you drive me ? 
 LadyVf. I would before have undeceiv'd you, when his late 
 Artifice turn'd the honeft Duty of your Son into his own Reproach 
 and Ruin : But knowing then your Temper was inacceilible, I durft 
 not offer it. But now, in better Hope of being believ'd, I here 
 avow the Truth of all he was accus'd of then. 
 
 Sir John. Will you diffract me ? my Senfes could not be de- 
 ceived. 
 
 Lady W. Indeed they were, he faw you liftning, and at the 
 Inftant turn'd his impious barefac'd Love to me, into equivocal 
 Ince":eflions, pretending to Maria. 
 Sir John. You ftarde me. 
 
 Lady
 
 The Non-Juror. ^ x 
 
 Lady W. Could you otherwife fuppofe, your Son would have 
 brought you to be Witnefs of his own weak Malice, in accufino- 
 him ? 
 
 Sit John. I'm all Aftonifhment ! 
 
 Lady W. Come, Sir, fufpend your Wonder ; refpite your Be- 
 lief even of this, till groifer Evidence convinces you : Suppofe 
 I here, before your face, fhould let you fee his Villany, make 
 him repeat his odious Love to me, at once throw off his Mask, 
 and fhew rhe bare-fac'd Traytor. 
 
 Sir John. Is it pofllble ? Make me but witnefs of that Fact, 
 and 1 fhall foon accufe myfelf, and own my Folly equal to his 
 Bafenefs: But pardon me, as I in fuch a Cafe would not believe, 
 even him accufing you, fo am I bound in equal Charity, to think, 
 you yet may be deceiv'd, in what you charge on him. 
 
 LadyW. Tis juft let it be fo we'll yet fuppofe him 
 
 innocent, till you yourfelf pronounce him guilty: And fince I 
 have ftak'd my Faith upon the Truth of what I urge, 'tis fit we brin^ 
 him to immediate Tryal. But then, Sir, I muff beg you to defcend 
 even to the poor Shifts we are reduc'd to. 
 
 Six: John. All ; to any thing, to eafe me of my Doubts : propofe 
 them. 
 
 LadyW. They that would fet Toils for Beafls of Prey, muft 
 lurk in humble Caves to watch their Haunts. 
 
 Sit John. Place me where you pleafe. 
 
 LadyW. Under this Table is your only Stand; the Carpet will 
 conceal you. 
 
 Sir John. Be it {o, I'll take my Pofl : What more ? 
 
 Lady W. Mr. Heart ley, fhall we beg your leave, and you, Maria, 
 take the leaf! fufpected way to fend the Dottor to me immediately? 
 
 oPldar. I have a Thought will do it, Madam- Come, Sir. 
 
 [Exit Maria and Heart. 
 
 Lady W. Here, Sir, take this Cufhion, you'll be eafier. [Sir 
 ]o\m goes under the 'Table.'] Now, Sir, you muft confider how 
 defperate a Difeafe I have undertaken to cure; therefore you muft 
 not winch nor ftir too foon, at any Freeedom you obferve me 
 take with him : be fure lie clofe and ftill, and when the Proof 
 is full appear at your Difcretion. 
 
 Sir"
 
 3^2 The NonJuroa- 
 
 Six John. Fear not ; I'll be patient. 
 Lady W. Huih ! he comes. 
 
 Enter Doctor with a Book. 
 
 Doff. Your Woman told me, Madam, you were here alone, 
 and defir'd to fpeak with me. 
 
 Lady W. I did, Sir ; but that we may be fure we are alone, pray 
 fliut the outward Door, and fee that Paifage too be clear ; another 
 Surprize might ruin us Is all fafe ? 
 
 Doff. I have taken care, Madam. 
 
 LadyVJ. I am afraid I interrupt your Meditations. 
 
 Doff. Say rather you improve them : You, Madam, were the 
 Subject of my folitary Thoughts; I take in all the little Aids I 
 can, to guard my Frailty, and truly I have receiv'd great Confo- 
 lation from an unfortunate Example here before me. 
 
 LadyW. Pray of what kind, Sir ? 
 
 Doff. I had juft dipt into poor Eloifds Paflion for Abelard: \t 
 is indeed a piteous Conflict. How terrible ! how penitent a 
 Senfe fhe fhews of guilty Pleafures paft, and fruitlefs Pains, to 
 fhut them from her Memory ! 
 
 Lady W. I have read her Storv, Sir. 
 
 Doff. Is it not pitiful ? 
 
 Lady W. A Heart of Stone might feel for her. 
 
 Dott. O ! think then what I endure for you, fuch are my Pains ! 
 but fuch is my Sincerity, though I fear my being reduc'd to reign 
 a Paflion for Maria, in my late Surprize, has done Difhonour to 
 the Vows I then prerer'd to you. 
 
 LadyVf. 'Twas on that Point I wanted now to talk with you, 
 not knowing; then how far you might miftake my Silence : Now had 
 I clos'd with the Colonel in accufmg you, it would have been 
 plain I was your Enemy ; as had I join'd in your Defence againft 
 him, it had been as grofly evident I was his: but fince I have 
 Ufes for his Friendfhip, and, as I (aw, your Credit with Sir John 
 needed no Support, 1 hope you'll think, betwixt the two Ex- 
 tremes, I have acted but a prudent Part. 
 
 Doff. Let me prefume to hope then, what I did, you judge 
 was Self-Defence, and pure Necemty. 
 
 Lady
 
 The Non-Juror. 3^3 
 
 Lady W. 'Twas wonderful ! Surprizing to Perfection ! The Wit 
 of it But I won't tell you what Effect it had upon me. 
 
 Doff. Why, Madam ! let me befeech you. 
 
 Lady W. No, 'twas nothing behdes what need you 
 
 ask me ? 
 
 Doff. Why do you thus decoy my foolifh Heart, and feed it 
 with fuch Hybla Drops of Flattery? You cannot {lire think kindly 
 of me ? 
 
 Lady W. O well-feign'd Fear ! You too, I find, can flatter, in 
 your Turn ? You know how well the fubtle Force of Modefty 
 prevails. O Men ! Men ! Men ! 
 
 Doff. 'Twere Arrogance to think I have deferv'd this Good- 
 nefs ; but treat me as you pleafe, I'll be at leaft fincere to you, 
 and frankly own, I ftill fufpect that all this foftening Favour is but 
 Artifice. 
 
 Lady W. Well ! well ! I'd have you think Co. 
 
 Doff. What Tranfport would it give, to be afTur'd I wrong you ! 
 But, O ! I fear this Shadow of Compliance is only meant to lure 
 me from Maria, and then, as fond Ixions were of old, to fill 
 my Arms with Air. 
 
 Lady W. Methinks this Doubt of me feems rather founded on 
 your fecond Thoughts of not refigning her ; 'tis {he, I find, is 
 your fubftantial Happinefs. 
 
 Doff. O that you could but fear I thought Co ! how eafy 'twere 
 to prove my Coldnefs, or my Love. 
 
 Lady W. O, Sir, you have convinc'd me now of both ! 
 
 Doff. Can all this pretty Anger then be real ? take heed, fair 
 Creature, it flatters more than Kindnefs. 
 
 Lad) W. I can allure you, Sir, I fhould have fpar'd you this 
 Trouble, had I known how deeply you were engaged to her. 
 
 Doff. Nay, then I muft believe you ; but indeed you wron^ 
 me : To prove my Innocence, 'tis not an Hour fince I prefs'd 
 Sir John to give Maria to young Heartley. 
 
 Lady W. O ! all Artifice ! you knew that modeft Refignation 
 would make Sir John but warmer in your Intereft. 
 
 V o l. II. Z z Doff.
 
 3^4 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Doff. Since you will rip the Secret from my Heart 
 
 know then, I have actually fold her, like a Bawble, to her childilh 
 Lover, for two thoufand times her Value. 
 
 Lady W. Are you ferious ? 
 
 Doff. As this is true, or falfe, may I in you be bleft, or mi- 
 ferable. 
 
 Lady W. But how can you fuppofe Sir John will ever hear 
 of it. 
 
 Doff. Alas ! poor Man ! he knows not his own Weaknefs, he's 
 moulded into any Shape, if you but gently ftroke his Humour ; 
 
 I dare depend on his Confent Befides, I intend to-morrow 
 
 to perfuade him 'tis for the Intereft of our Cauje it fhould be fo, 
 and then I have him fure. 
 
 Lady W. Fie ! How is that poflible I He can't be Co implicitely 
 credulous ; you don't take him fure for a Roman Catholick I 
 
 Doff. Um not abfolutely But, poor Soul ! he little 
 
 thinks how near he is one. 'Tis true, name to him but Rome, or 
 Popery, he ftarts, as at a Monfter : But gild its grofleft Doc- 
 trines with the Style of Englifh Catholick, he fwallows down the 
 -Poifon like a Cordial. - 
 
 Lady W. Nay, if he's Co far within your Power, it cannot fail, 
 he muft confent : Well, Sir, now I give you leave to guefs the 
 Reafon why I too, at our laft meeting, Co warmly preft you to 
 refign Maria. 
 
 Doff. Is it poflible ? Was I then Co early your Concern . ? 
 
 Lady W. You cannot blame me fure, for having there oppos'd 
 your Happinefs. 
 
 DocJ. I die upon the Tranfport. [Taking her Hand. 
 
 Lady W. Be fure you are iecret now; your leaft Imprudence 
 makes thefe, like Fairy-Favours, vanifli in a moment. 
 
 Doff. How can you form fo vain a Fear ? 
 
 Lady W. Call it not vain, for let our Converfe end in what 
 it may, you (till fhall find my Fame is dear to me as Lite. 
 
 DocJ. Where can it find Co fure a Guard ? The grave Auflerity 
 of my Life will ftrike Sufpicion dumb, and yours may mock the 
 Malice of Detraction : I am no giddy, loofe-liv'd Courtier, whofe 
 falfe Profeflions end only in his Boaft of Favours : No, fair fpot- 
 
 lefs
 
 The Non-Juror. 5^ 
 
 lefs Miracle, the Myfteries of Love are only fit for Hearts re- 
 clufe and elevate as mine ; my Happinefs, like yours, depending 
 on my Secrecy. 
 
 Lady W. Tis you muft anfwer for this Folly. 
 
 Doff. I take it whole upon myfelfj the Guilt be only mine, but 
 
 be our Tranfports mutual Come, lovely Creature, let us 
 
 withdraw to Privacy, where murmuring Love fhall hufh thy Fears, 
 and lofe them in the burning Joy. 
 
 [Sir John ftcfpng foftly behind him, fei&es him by the Throat.] 
 
 Sir John. Traitor ! 
 
 Doth Ah! [Aftonifid. 
 
 Six John. Is this thy Sanctity ? This thy Doctrine ? Thefe thy 
 Meditations ? If, flung with my Abufes, I now fhould ftab thee 
 to the Heart, what Devil durft murmur 'twere not an Act of Juf- 
 tice I But fince thy vile Hypocriiy unmask'd, muft make Mankind 
 abhor thee, be thy own Shame, thy living Punifhment. 
 
 Doff. Do ! Triumph, Sir your Artifice has well fucceeded 
 
 ■ 1 fee your Ends ! you needed not fo deep a Plot to part 
 
 with me. [Trembling. 
 
 Sir John. Supprefs thy weak Evafions Ungrateful Wretch ! 
 
 Have I for this redeem'd thee from the Jaws of gaping Poverty, 
 fed, clothed, loved, preferred thee to my Bofom, to my Family 
 and Fortune ? Wife, Children, Friends, Servants, all who were 
 not Friends to thee, accounted as my Enemies ; nay more, to 
 crown my Faith in thee, I have rely d on thy Integrity even for 
 my future Happinefs : And how haft thou, in one fhort Day, re- 
 quited me ? Taking the advantage of my blinded Paihon, thou 
 haft turn'd the Duty of my Son to his Undoing ; fordidly haft 
 fold the Truft I made thee of my Daughter, attempted, like a 
 felonious Traitor, to feduce my Wife, and haft, I fear, with poi- 
 fonous Doctrines too enfnar'd my Soul. 
 
 Lady W. Now, Heavn be prais'd ! his Heart feems confcious 
 of his Error. [Afide. 
 
 Six John. But why do I reproach thee ? Had I not been the 
 weakeft of Mankind, thou never couldft have prov'd fo great a 
 
 Villain -Whether Heaven intends all this to punifh, or to 
 
 Zzi fave
 
 3^6 The Non-Juror. 
 
 fave me, yet I know not; my Senfes dagger at the View, and my 
 Reflexion's loft in wild Aftonifhment. [He /lands mufing. 
 
 Doff. This Snare was worthy of you, Madam, 'tis you have 
 made this Villain of me. [Apart to Lady W. 
 
 Lady W. You would have made me worfe, but I have only 
 {hewn him what you were before. 
 
 Doff. I thank you. 
 
 Lady W. Thank your own Ingratitude and Wickednefs : but I 
 muft now purfue my Victory. [Exit Lady W. 
 
 Doff. [.Apart.] No: It ends not here. He was not brought to 
 liften to this Proof alone ! There's fomething deeper yet defign'd 
 
 a^ainft me 1 muft be fpeedy— fuppofe I talk with Charles, 
 
 alarm him with our common Danger, point out his Ruin as our 
 only Means of Safety, and, like the Panther in the Toil, pro- 
 voked, turn fhort with Vengeance on my Hunters ! 
 
 Sir John. What ! ftill within my Sight ! Of all my Follies, which 
 is it tells thee, that I now fhall keep my Temper ? 
 
 Doff. [Turning boldly to him.] Whom do you menace ? me, 
 Sir ? Reflect upon your own Condition firft, and where you are. 
 
 Sir John. What would the Villain drive at ! I prithee leave 
 me, 1 cannot look on thee, thy overbearing Infolence confounds 
 me : But fince thy Wickednefs has turn'd my Eyes upon myfelf, 
 and to thy Crimes detected I hope to owe my future Innocence ; 
 as the fore Wound the Viper gives, the Viper beft can cure : For 
 that one Good may Heaven, like me, forgive thee ; but feek thy 
 
 Biding in fome other Place Out of my Houfe this Inftant ! 
 
 hence ! be gone ! and fee my fhameful Face no more. 
 
 Doff. Nay then, 'tis time to be myfelf, and let you know, that 
 I am Mafter here : Turn you out, Sir, this Houfe is mine j and 
 now, Sir, at your Peril dare to iniiilt me. 
 
 Sir John. O Heaven ! 'tis true, thou haft difarm'd my Juftice, 
 
 and turn'd its Sword into my own weak Bofom 1 had forgot 
 
 my Folly, 'tis fit it fhould be (o, and Heaven is juft, at once to 
 
 let me fee my Crime and Punilhment O my poor injur'd 
 
 Son ! Whither fhall I fly to hide me from the World I 
 
 Enter
 
 The Non-Juror. 397 
 
 Enter Lady Woodvil. 
 
 Lady W. Whither are you going, Sir ? 
 
 Sir John. I know not but here, it feems, I am a TrefpafTer 
 
 the Mafter of this Houfe has warn'd me hence ; and fince the 
 
 Right is now in him, 'tis juft I fhouid refign it. 
 
 Lady W. You fhall not ftir ! he dares not aft with fuch aban- 
 don'd Infolence : No, Sir, PolTeilion ftill is yours ; if he pre- 
 tends a Right, let him by open Courfe of Law maintain it. 
 
 Dott. Are theie the Shifts you are reduc'd to ? No, Madam, I 
 fhall not wait fo ilow a Vengeance ; you'll find I have a ftiorter 
 way to rout you here ! Charles ! [Exit Doctor. 
 
 Sir John. Nay, then there is an end of all 1 have pro- 
 
 vok'd a Serpent my Life, I fee, muft pay the Forfeit of my 
 
 Folly. 
 
 Lady W. Come, Sir, take heart ; your Life, in fpite of him, 
 is free, and, I hope, your Actions too : However, tell me free- 
 ly, have you rafhly done any thing for which the Law may ques- 
 tion you? 
 
 Sir John. I think not, ftrictly ; 'tis true, I have lately trufted 
 him with Sums of Money, which he pretended, if accounted for, 
 might endanger both of us. 
 
 Lady W. O the fubtle Villain ! thofe Sums are innocent, I dare 
 anfwer for them : But is there nothing more ? 
 
 Sir "John. Not, that I can call to mind, more criminal. 
 
 Lady W. Pray tell me the worft, that we may arm againfl him. 
 
 Skjohn. Sometimes, with my own Hand, I have reliev'd the 
 Wants of wretched Prifbners to the State. 
 
 Lady W. We have no Laws that frown on Acts of Charity ; if 
 that were criminal, the Government itfelf is guilty. 
 
 • Sir John. How far our private Converfe may affect me -that 
 
 I know not : If Charles betrays me not, I think his Malice cannot 
 reach me. 
 
 Lady W. Then, Sir, be eafy, for he has loft his Influence 
 there : Charles has long fince perceiv'd his Villany, and grew 
 from thence a fecret Convert to the Caufe of Truth and 
 Loyalty ; of which he has given fuch meritorious Proofj that 
 
 Mr.
 
 398 The Nonjuror. 
 
 Mr. Heartley, and your Son, this very Day, Sir, have obtain'd 
 his Pardon. 
 
 Skjohn. You tell me Wonders ! Pardon'd ! and a Convert, fay 
 vou ! How ftrongly are our Hearts periuaded by Example ! What 
 Darknefs have I wander'd in ! How amiable is iuch Royal Mercy ! 
 yet with what harden'd Malice has that Slave traduced it ? 
 
 Enter Maria haftily. 
 
 Mar. O, Sir ! I am frighted out of my Senfes ! for HeavenV 
 fake be gone ! Fly, this moment, this wicked Fellow has Defigns 
 upon your Life. 
 
 Lady W. How ! 
 
 Six John. What doit thou mean ? explain. 
 
 Mar. As 1 was palling by the Hall, I heard him earneft in 
 Difcourfe with Charles ; and upon their naming you, I ftopt a 
 while to liilen ; where I heard the Doclor urge to him, that you 
 were falfe at Heart ; that from your late frivolous Pretence to 
 break with him, he was convinced your Malice now would flop at 
 nothing to undo him ; that Charles himfelf was equally in dan- 
 ger, and that, to fave your own Life, you certainly defign'd to fa- 
 crifice theirs to the Government ; which there was no pollibilitv 
 of preventing, but by their immediate joining in a Charge of 
 Treaion againft you. 
 
 Lady W. O the Villain ! 'tis well we are fecure in Charles. 
 
 Skjfohn. If we are not, why be it, as it may 1 will not 
 
 ftir 1 (land upon my Innocence; or it that's berray'd, will 
 
 throw me on the Mercy of that Royal Breaft, whole Vermes my 
 Credulity has injur'd. 
 
 Lady W. and Mar. Ah ! [_A Pijlol is heard from zvithin. 
 
 Sir John. What means that Piftol ? . 
 
 Lady W. Don't ftir, I beg you, Sir. 
 
 Mar. What Terrors has this Monfter brought into our Fa- 
 mily ? 
 
 LadyVf. What will it end in f 
 
 Sir John. How wretched has my Folly made me ? 
 
 Lady W. How now ? what's the Matter I 
 
 Enter
 
 The Non. Juror. 3^9 
 
 Enter Betty. 
 
 Betty. O dear, Madam i I fhall faint away, there's Murder 
 doing. 
 
 Sir John. Who ! where ! what is it ! 
 
 Betty. The Doctor, Sir, and Mr. Charles were at high words 
 juft now in the Hall, and, upon a fudden, there was a Piftol fir'd 
 between them : Oh ! I am afraid poor Mr. Charles is killed. 
 
 Sir John. How ! 
 
 Betty. Oh ! here he comes himfelf, Sir, he will tell you more. 
 
 Enter Heartley, Charles, and the Doctor held by Servants. 
 
 Heart. Here, bring in this Ruffian, this is Villany beyond Ex- 
 ample. 
 
 Sir John. What means this Outrage ? 
 
 Lady W. I tremble. 
 
 Charles. Don't be alarm'd, Madam, there's no Mifchief done ; 
 what was intended, the Doctor here can beft inform you. 
 
 Dotf. [To Heartley.] You, Sir, fhall anfwer for this Infult ? 
 What am I held for ? Who's here that dares aiTume a Right - to 
 queftion me ? 
 
 Heart. Keep your Temper, Sir ; we'll releaie you prefently : 
 but Sir John muft firft know the bottom of his Obligations to you. 
 
 Sk John. Mr. Heartley, I am afham'd to look on you. 
 
 Dotf. What, Sir, fhall my own Servant abufe me, brave me, lift : 
 his Hand againft me, and I not dare to punifh him ? 
 
 Heart. Your Servant, Sir, we know him better. . 
 
 Doff. Then, Sir, I demand my Liberty, that the Government 
 too may know him. 
 
 Charles. Yes, and let it too be known,, you firft feduc'd me to • 
 rebel, and now would have me expiate my Offence with Perjury. . 
 
 "Dott. How, Sir ? 
 
 Charles. Yes, Perjury ! for fuch it muft have been, fhould I have 
 charg'd, as you'd have had me, this Gentleman with Treafon ; what . 
 Facts have 1 been privy to that reach that Name ? The worft I 
 know of him, is, that all the factious Fallhoods you have rais'cl . 
 againft the beft of Princes, he, blinded with your Hvpocriiy, be- 
 lie v'd. Docl,.
 
 360 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Doff. "lis well, Sir, you are protected now. 
 
 Charles. This, Sir, in fhort, has been our Caufe of Quarrel : 
 The Doctor finding I receiv'd with Coldnefs his vile Defigns a- 
 gainft your Lite, began to offer Menaces on mine, if I comply'd 
 not ; at which I fmiling told him, the Difappointments of his 
 Love had made him delperate. This ftung him into Rage, and, 
 faftning at my Throat, he anfwer'd, Villain ! you will be humbler 
 when you groan in Chains for this. Here indeed all Temper left 
 me, when, difens;aging from his Hold, with one Home-Blow I 
 fell'dhim reeling to the Pavement. At this, grown defperate, he 
 ran with Fury toYome Piftols, that hung above the Chimney, to 
 revenge him ; I, in the Inftant, as he reach'd one, feiz'd upon 
 his Wrift, and as we grappled, Sir, the Piftol firing to the Ciel- 
 ing, alarm'd the Family ; when Mr. Heart ley, and your Servants, 
 rulh'd in to part us. 
 
 Sir John. Infatiate Villain ! O my Shame ! 
 
 Docf. Well, Sir, now you have heard this mighty Charge, what 
 have you more againft me ? 
 
 Heart. More, Sir, I hope is needlefs; but if Sir John is yet 
 unfatisfied 
 
 Sir John. O ! I have feen too much! Every new Inftance of 
 his Wickednefs but adds afrefh to my Conriifion. 
 
 Lady W. Now, Sir, is your Time. \ yip art 
 
 Heart. I go this Minute, Madam. ^ ? 
 
 DocJ. I value not your whifper'd Menaces ; for know, to your 
 Confufion, my Vengeance is not yet defeated : You'll find, Sir, 
 that to rebel, or to conceal a Rebel, are, in the Eye of Law, both 
 equal Acts of Treafon : That Fact, I am fare-, is evident againft 
 you. There! there ftands in proof the ftrippling Traitor you 
 have flielter'd ! This, Sir, your whole Family can charge you 
 with, andfwear it home they fhall, or load their Souls with Per- 
 jury. But then, to dafh your iew remaining Days with Bitternefs 
 of Mifery, remember I, Sir, whom mortally you hate, fucceed 
 the inftant Heir to your PofTeiTions. Now, farewell, and let Dis- 
 grace and Beggary be your Childrens Portion. 
 
 As
 
 The Non-Juror. 361 
 
 As he is going out, the Colonel flop him. 
 
 Col. Hold, Sir, not Co faft, you cannot pafs. 
 DoB. Who, Sir, ftiall dare to flop me ? 
 Col. Within there ! march ! 
 
 Enter a Mejjenger with a File of Mufqueteers. 
 
 Mejj. Is your Name Wolf, Sir. 
 
 Dot?. What if it be, Sir ? 
 
 Mejj. Then, Sir, I have a Warrant againft you for High-Treaibn. 
 
 Dotf. Me, Sir ! [Startled. 
 
 Mefj. Do you know one Colonel Perth, Sir ? 
 
 DoU. Ha ! then I am betray'd indeed. 
 
 Heart. This Perth, it feems, Sir, has manag'd his Correfpon- 
 dence at Avignon, from whence he came laft Night Exprefs ; but 
 the Government having immediate Notice of his Arrival, he was 
 this Morning feizd, and examin'd before the Council, where, a- 
 mong other Facts, he has confefs'd he knew the Doctor actually 
 in Arms at the firft rebellious Riling in Northumberland, which 
 has been fince by other WitneiTes confirm'd. 
 
 Col. And, Sir, to convince you, that ev'n the Doctrine he has 
 broach'd cou'd never flow from the pure Fountain or our efta- 
 blifh'd Faith ; here are Affidavits in my Hand, that prove him, 
 under his Difguife, a lurking E miliary of Rome, that he is actual- 
 ly a Prieft in Popiffi Orders, and has feveral times been feen, as 
 fuch, to officiate Publick Mafs in the Church of Noftre Dame at 
 Antwerp. 
 
 Mar. Hear, and L. W- How ! 
 
 Sir John. I (tart with Horror, ev'n at the Danger I am freed 
 from. 
 
 Col. And now, Sir, had not your infatiate Villanies to this Fa- 
 mily rorc'd me to this clofe Inquiry into your private Life, per- 
 haps you might have pafs'd unqueftion'd among the Rout of Ene- 
 mies, whom our Government defpifes. 
 
 Vo l. II. A a a Dotf.
 
 3^2 The Non-Juror. 
 
 Doff. Well, Sir ! now then you know your worft of me : But 
 know, what you call criminal, may yet, before your Triumph is fe- 
 cure, not only find its Pardon, but Reward. I yet may live, Sir, to 
 retort your Infult ; at leaft the Days that are allotted me, will want 
 for no Supports of Life, while this Conveyance calls me Mafter. 
 
 Sir John. There ! there indeed he flings me to the Heart ! for 
 that rafh Act, Reproach and endlefs Shame will haunt me. 
 
 Mar. No, Sir be comforted ! for ev'n there too his aban- 
 
 don'd Hope muft leave him. 
 
 Sir John. Why doli thou torture me ? Did I not flgn that 
 DQtd ( 
 
 Mar. Yes, Sir, but in that Deed you'll find my Brother, not 
 that Traytor, is your Heir : For know the fatal Deed which you 
 intended, Sir, to fign, is here ev'n yet unfeal'd and innocent. 
 Omnes. Ha ! [The Do6ior haflily opens the Deed to examine it, 
 
 [and all the Company feem furprizjd. 
 Sir John. What means fhe I 
 
 (£War. I mean, Sir, that this Deed, by Accident, falling into 
 this Gentleman's Hands, his generous Concern for our Family di£ 
 cover'd it to me ; when I, reduc'd to this Extrerhity, inftantly 
 procufd that other to be drawn exactly like it ; which, in your 
 Impatience, Sir, to execute, pafs'd unfufpected for the Original : 
 Their only Difference is, that wherever here you read the Doc- 
 tor's Name, there you'll find my Brother's only, throughout, and 
 wholly, Sir, in every Article inverting him in all that Right and 
 Title, which you intended for your mortal Enemy. 
 DocJ. Diffraction ! outwitted by a brainlefs Girl ! 
 
 [Throws down the Writing in Rage. 
 
 All the Servants having attended to the Discovery, break out 
 
 into I-Ju^z^ahs of Joy, ccc. while Sir John, the Col. Charles, 
 
 and Maria fever ally embrace : Heartley and Lady Woodvil 
 
 Jllently join in their Congratulations. 
 
 Doff. I cannot bear their irklome Joy Come, Sir, lead me 
 
 where you pleafe a Dungeon would relieve me now. 
 
 Col. Secure your Prifoner. 
 
 Serv. Huzzah ! a Traytor ! a Traytor ! 
 
 [Exit Meil Soldiers, Doctor, and Servants. 
 
 Mar.
 
 The Non-Juror. 363 
 
 Mar. Now, Heartley, I hope I have made Atonement for your 
 Jealoufy. 
 
 Heart. You have banifh'd it for ever : This was beyond your- 
 felf fiirprizing. 
 
 Col. Sifter 
 
 Mar. Come, no let Speeches ; if I deferve your Thanks, re- 
 turn them in a Friendfhip here. [Pointing to Charles. 
 
 Col. The Bufinefs of my Life fhall be to merit it. 
 
 Charles. And mine to fpeak my Senfe of Obligations. 
 
 Sir John. O my Child ! for this Deliverance I only can reward 
 thee here. [Gives Maria to Heartley.] For thee, my Son, whofe 
 filial Vertues I have injur'd, this honeft Deed iri every Article 
 fhali be ratify'd. I fee your Eyes are all upon me, expecting from 
 that vile Traytor's Practices fome voluntary Inftance of my Heart's 
 Converfion : I muff be blind indeed, were I not now convinc'd 
 he muft in all things have alike deceiv'd me, as the Dial, that 
 mifs-tels one Hour, of confequence is falfe through the whole 
 Round of Day. Let it fuffice, I fee my Errors with a confcious 
 Shame ; but hope, when I am juftly weigh'd, you'll find thoie 
 Errors rofe but from a duclile Heart, not difinclin'd to Truth, but 
 fatally mifled by falfe Appearances. 
 
 Col. Whoever knows your private Life, muff think you, Sir, in 
 this fincere. 
 
 Heart. And now, Sir, fince I am fure, it will no more offend 
 you, give me leave to obferve, that of all the Arts our Enemies 
 make ufe of to embroil us, none feem fo audacioufly prepofte- 
 rous, as their infift ing, That a Nation's beff Security is the Word of 
 a Prince, whofe Religion indulges him to give it, and at the fame 
 time obliges him to break it : And tho' perhaps, in leffer Points, 
 our politick Difputes won't fuddenly be ended, methinks there's 
 one Principle that all Parties might eafily come into, that no 
 Change of Government can give us a Blefling equal to our Li- 
 berty. 
 
 Grant us but this, and then of courfe youli own, 
 
 To guard that Freedom, GEORGE muft fill the Throne. 
 
 A a a z E P I-
 
 (3*4) 
 EPILOGUE, fpoken by Mrs. Oldfield. 
 
 ^^^^^^^OW wild, how frantickis the vain EJfay, 
 y^ %2*t "That builds on modem 'Politicks a Tlay ! 
 
 255 H §X Methinks to write at all is bold enough, 
 'ibs zzk Sat in a Tlay, to ft and a Faction, 'Buffi 
 
 g|§^£l$K§ Not R ome, -r old Stage prefumd (or Fame's a Fibber} 
 And Modems to attempt it ! well faidC I BB E R 1 
 Was't not enough the Cri ticks might purfue him ! 
 But muft he roufe a Tarty to undo him ' 
 Thefe Blows I told him on his Play would fall, 
 
 But he, unmov'd, crfd Blood ! we'll ftand it all. 
 
 When PRIES? Stum TRAITORS, where' s the mighty Matter? 
 
 Since when has Treafon been exempt from Satire ? 
 
 And floould from Guilt a factious Clamour rife; 
 
 Such Spite muft (peak them England'/ Enemies : 
 
 But if Old England'/ Friends allow, 'tis right, 
 
 We're pure their Tower can chace the Jacobite, 
 
 And put their Malice, like their Troops to flight. 
 
 As for the Criticks, thofe, he owns, may teize him, 
 
 Becaufc he never took fuch Tains to plcafe them ; 
 
 In 'Time, Tlace, Action, Rules, by which old Wits 
 
 Made Tlays, as Dames do Tuddings, by Receipts : 
 
 But hopes again ev'n Rebels cannot fay, 
 
 Tho' vanquijlfd, they're infultcd in his Tlay : 
 
 Nay more To 'fet their Caufe in fair eft Light, 
 
 H'has made a Man of Senfe — a Jacobite ! 
 
 (Tho' by our Bard's good leave, to take it right, 
 
 His Senfe was fhewn, when tum'd from Jacobite") 
 
 Thus too the Fair, that maybe wrong inclin'd, 
 
 He hopes to CHARLES'x Tatfion will be kind ; 
 
 And own, at worft, on their reflecting Tillow, 
 
 The Rebel, after all, 's a pretty Fellow I 
 
 But why, you'll fay, was I made HEARTLEYV Wife ? 
 
 Conftdcr, 'Fair-Ones, HEART LEY fav'd his Life : 
 
 So that you fee the Boy han't quite mifcarry'd 
 
 Btftfc 
 
 Arc all thofe "Dears fo happy you have marry' d I 
 How often, in that State, has Love feen Elves 
 So cramm'd with Comfort, they could hang tbemftlvcs ? 
 The worft you can again ft his Satire plead, 
 Is that my Lord of T H E T F O R D \r hang'd indeed: 
 ff that fecms hard, why grant him your Reprieve, 
 4nd, by an Ail of Grace, let this NONJUROR live. 
 
 THE
 
 
 THE 
 
 REFUSAL> 
 
 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<i to know the bottom of it. 
 
 Gran.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. .389 
 
 Gran. That you can't fail of, for you know he's vain and fami- 
 liar ; and here he comes. 
 
 Enter Witling. 
 
 Wit. Hah ! my little Granger ! How doft thou do, Child ? 
 Where the Devil haft thou been this Age ? What's the reafon you 
 never come among us . ? Frankly ! give me thy little Finger, my 
 Dear. 
 
 Gran. Thou art a very impudent Fellow, Witling. 
 
 Wit. Ay, it's no matter for that ; thou art a pleaiant one, I am 
 fure : for thou always make'ft us laugh ? 
 
 Fran. Us ! who the Devil doft thou mean by Us, now ? 
 
 Wit. Why, your pretty Fellows, my Dear ; your Bons Vivants, 
 your Men of Wit and Tafte, Child. 
 
 Gran. I know very few of thoie ; but I come from a Country, 
 Sir, where half t\\& Nation are juft fuch pretty Fellows as thou art. 
 
 Wit. Hah ! that muft be a pleaiant Place indeed ! What doft 
 thou come from Paradife, Child ?. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Fran. Don't you know he's juft come from France, Sir ! 
 
 Wit. Youjeft! 
 
 Gran. Why ay Now you fee, Witling, your Vanity has 
 
 brought you into a Fool's Paradife. 
 
 Wit. O ! you pleafant Cur ! what Paris, quafi par Diis, or Pa- 
 radife. Ha ! I wiih I had been with you ; 1 am fure you would 
 have thought it Paradife then. 
 
 Gran. Nay, now he's fairly in. 
 
 Wit. 'Tis impoflible to be out on't, Sir, in your Company ; 
 wherever you are, it's always Paradife to me, depend upon't. 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Fran. Faith, Granger, there 1 think he came up witli you. 
 
 Gran. Nay, (ince tne Rogue has Alone)', we muft of courfe al- 
 low him Wit : but I think he's one of your good-natur'd ones j 
 he does not only find the Jeft, but the Laugh too. 
 
 Wit. Ay '• and to hear thee talk, Child, how is it poflible to 
 want either ? Ha ! ha - 
 
 Fran. Good again ! Well faid Witling ! Why thou art as fharp 
 to-day . 
 
 Vol. II. Ddd Wit.
 
 386 The Refusal ; or, 
 
 Wit. As a Glover's Needle, my Dear, I always dart it into your 
 Leather-heads with three Edges : Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Gran. Prithee, Witling, does not thy AfTurance fometimes meet 
 with a Repartee, that only lights upon the Outfide of thy Head. 
 
 Wit. O ! your Servant, Sir: What ! now your Fire's gone, you 
 would knock me down with the But-end, would you ? Ha ! it's 
 very well, Sir ; I ha' done, Sir, I ha' done : I fee it's a Folly to 
 draw Bills upon a Man that has no Affets. 
 
 Gran. And to do it upon a Man, that has no Cafh of thine in 
 his hands, is the Impudence of a Bankrupt. 
 
 Wit. Pfbah ! a meer Flafh in the Pan Well ! well ! it's 
 
 all over — Come, come, a Truce, a Truce ! I ha' done ; I 
 
 beg pardon. 
 
 Gran. Why, thou vain Rogue ! thy Good-nature has more Im- 
 pudence than thy Wit : Doft thou fuppofe I can ever take any 
 thing ill of thee ? 
 
 Wit. Pfhah ! fy I What dofl thou talk, Man ; Why I know thou 
 canft not live without me : Doft think I don't know how to make 
 Allowances ? Tho, if I have too much Wit, and thou hail: too 
 little, how the Devil can either of us help it, you know ? Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Fran. Ha ! ha ! honeft Witling is not to be put out of hu- 
 mour, I fee. 
 
 Gran. No, Faith, nor out of countenance 
 
 Wit. Not I, Faith, my Friend ; and a Man of Turn may fay 
 
 any thing to me Not but I lee, by his Humour, fomething has 
 
 gone wrong 1 hold fix to four now, thou haft been crabb'd 
 
 at Paris in the Mifjifyp. 
 
 Gran. Not I, Faith, Sir ; I would no more put my Money into 
 the Stocks there, than my Legs into the Stocks here : There's no 
 getting home again, when you have a mind to it. 
 
 Wit. Hah ! very good ! but prithee tell us : What • is the 
 Qmnquinpois as pleafant as our Change- Alley here ? 
 
 Gran. Much the fame Comedy, Sir ; where poor wife Men are 
 only Spectators, and laugh to fee Fools make their Fortune. 
 
 Wit. Ay, but there we differ, Sir ; for there are Men of Wit 
 too, that have made their Fortunes among us, to my knowledge. 
 
 Gran.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. 387 
 
 Gran. Very likely, Sir ; when Fools are flufh of Money, Men 
 of Wit won't be long without it : I hear you have been fortunate, 
 Sir. 
 
 Wit. Humh ! I-gad, I done know whether he calls me a Wit 
 or a Fool. 
 
 Gran. O fy ! every body knows you have a great deal of Money. 
 
 Fran. And I don't know any Man pretends no more Wit. 
 
 Wit. Nay, that's true too : but I-<j;ad 1 believe he has me. 
 
 Gran. But, prithee, Witling, how came a Man of thy Parts ever 
 to think of railing thy Fortune in Change-Alley ? How didft thou 
 make all this Money thou art mailer or ? 
 
 Wit. Why, as other Men of Wit and Parts often do ; by hav- 
 ing little or nothing to lofe : I rais'd my Fortune, Sir, as Milo 
 litted the Bull, by nicking to it every day, when 'twas but a Calf. 
 I fous'd them with Premiums, Child, and laid them on thick when 
 the Stock was low ; and did it all from a Brafs Nail, Boy. In 
 fhort, by being dirty once a day for a few Months, taking a 
 Lodging at my Broker's, and riling at the fame Hour I ufed to 
 go to bed at this end of the Town ; I have at laft made up my 
 Accounts : and now wake every Morning Mailer of Five-and- 
 Twenty Hundred a Year, Terra Firma, and Pelf in my Pocket, 
 Boy : I have Fun in my Fob beiide, Child. 
 
 Gran. And all this out of Change- Alley ? 
 
 Wit. Every Shilling, Sir ; all out of Stocks, Putts, Bulls, Rams, 
 Bears, and Bubbles. 
 
 Gran. Thefe Frolicks of Fortune do fome Juflice at lead: ; they 
 fufficiently mortify the Proud and Envious, that have not been 
 the better for them. 
 
 Fran.. O ! I know fome are ready to burft even at the Good- 
 Fortune of their own Relations. 
 
 Wit. I-gad, and lb do I ; there's that furly Put, my Uncle the 
 
 Couniellor, won't pull off his Hat to me now A poor (laving 
 
 Cur, that is not worth above a Thoufand a Year, and minds no- 
 thing but his Buiinefs 
 
 Fran. And fo is out of humour with you, becauie you have 
 done That in a Twelvemonth, that he has been drudging for 
 thefe twenty Years ? 
 
 Dddi Wit.
 
 388 The Refusal ; or, 
 
 Wit. But I intend to fend him word, if he does not mend his 
 Manners, now I fhall disinherit him. 
 
 Gran. What are we to think of this, Frankly ? Is Fortune really 
 in her Wits, or is the World out of them ? 
 
 Fran. Much as it ufed to be ; (he has only found a new Chan- 
 nel for her Tides of Favour. 
 
 Wit. Prithee why doft not come into the Alley, and fee us 
 fcramble for them f If you have a mind to philofophize, there — 
 there's Work for your Speculations ! I-gad ! I never go there, but 
 it puts me in mind of the Poetical Regions of Death, where all 
 Mankind are upon a level : There you'll fee a Duke dangling af- 
 ter a Director ; here a Peer and a Prentice haggling for an Eighth ; 
 there a Jew and a Parfon making up Differences ; here ! a young 
 Woman of Quality buying Bears of a Quaker ; and there an old 
 one felling Refufals to a Lieutenant of Grenadiers. 
 
 Fran. What a Medley of Mortals has he jumbled together ? 
 
 Wit. O. ! there's no f uch Fun in the Univerfe ! I-gad ! there's 
 no getting away : Perifh me ! if I have had time to fee my Mif- 
 trefs, but of a Sunday, thete three Months. 
 
 Gran. Thy Miftreis ! What doft thou mean ? Thou fpeak'ft as 
 if thou had ft but one. 
 
 Wit. Why no more I have not, that I care a Farthing for : I 
 may, perhaps, have a Stable of Scrubs, to mount my Footmen 
 when I rattle into Town, or {o ; but this is a choice Pad, Child, 
 that I defign for my own Riding. 
 
 Fran. Prithee, who is ihe ? 
 
 Wit. I'll fhew you, my Dear 1 think I have her here in. 
 
 my Pocket. 
 
 Gran. What doft thou mean ? 
 
 Wit. Look you, I know you are my Friends ; and therefore, 
 flnce I am fine it's in nobody's power to hurt me, I'll venture to 
 t-ruft you- -There ! that's Whoo, Child. [Shews a Paper. 
 
 Fran. What's here ?; 
 
 [Reads, 
 To Sir Gilbert Wrangle : 
 
 Sir, according to your Contract of the nth of February la ft, I 
 now make my x.lecJion of your younger Daughter, Mrs. Charlotte 
 
 Wrangle ;
 
 The Ladies Philofophy. 389 
 
 Wrangle ; and do hereby demand your Confent, to be forthwith joirid 
 to the faid Charlotte in the fober State of Matrimony. Witnefs my 
 Band, dec. William Witline. 
 
 Fran. What a merry World do we live in ? 
 
 Gran. This indeed is extraordinary. 
 
 Wit. I think fo : I'll allure you, Gentlemen, I take this to be 
 the Coup de Maitre of the whole Alley : This is a Call now, that 
 none of your thick-skull'd Calculators could ever have thought on. 
 
 Gran. Well, Sir, and does this Contract fecure the Lady's For- 
 tune to you too ? 
 
 Wit. O ! Pox ! I knew that was all Rug before : He had fet- 
 tled Three Thoufand a-piece upon them in the South-Sea, when it 
 was only about Par, provided they married with his Confent, 
 
 which by this Contract you know I have a Right to -So there's 
 
 another Thirty Thoufand dead, my Dear. 
 
 Fran. But pray, Sir, has not the Lady herfelf a Right of Re- 
 fufal, as well as vou, all this while ? 
 
 * 
 
 Wit. A Right ! ay, who doubts it ? Every Woman has a Right 
 to be a Fool, if fhe has a mind to it, that's certain : But Charlotte 
 happens to be a Girl of Tafte, my Dear ; fhe is none of thofe 
 Fools, that will ftand in her own light, I can tell you. 
 
 Fran. W T ell, but do you expect fhe fhould blindly Confent to 
 your Bargain ? 
 
 Wit. Blindly ! No, Child : But doft thou imagine any Citi- 
 zen's Daughter can refufe a Man of my Figure and Fortune' with 
 her Eyes open : 
 
 Gran. Impudent Rogue ! [Afide. 
 
 Fran. Nay, I grant your Security's good, Sir : But, I mean, 
 you have ftill left her Confent at large in the Writing ? 
 
 Wit. Her Confent! didft thou think I minded that, Man? I 
 knew, if the Stock did but whip up, I fhould make no more of 
 
 her, than a poach'd Egg But to let you into the Secret, my 
 
 Dear, I am lecure of that already ; for the Slut's in love with me, 
 and does not know it : Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Fran. How came you to know it then I 
 
 Wtu.
 
 3po Tloe R e f u s a l ; or, 
 
 Wit. By her ridiculous pretending to hate me, Child: for we 
 never meet, but it's a mortal War ; and never part, till one of 
 us is rallied to death : Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Fran. Nay, then it muft be a Match ; for I fee you are re- 
 folv'd to take no Anfwer. 
 
 Wit. Not I, Faith ! I know her Play too well for that ! In iliort, 
 I am this very Evening to attack her in form ; and to fliew you 
 I am a Man of Skill, I intend to make my firft Breach from a Bat- 
 tery of Italian Mufick, in which I defign to ling my own Io-Pcean, 
 and enter the Town in Triumph. 
 
 Fran. You are not going to her now ? 
 
 Wit. No, no, I muft firft go and give the Governor my Sum- 
 mons here : I muft find out Sir Gilbert ; he's hereabouts : I 
 long to make him growl a little ; for I know he'll fire, when he 
 reads it, as if it were a Scire Facias againft the Company's Char- 
 ter. Ha ! ha ! [Exit Wit. 
 
 Fran. When all's faid, this Fellow feems to feel his Fortune 
 more than moft of the Fools that have been lately taken into her 
 Favour. 
 
 Gran. Pox on him ! I had rather have his Conftitution, than 
 his Money : Prithee let's follow, and fee how the old Gentleman 
 receives him. 
 
 Fran. No excufe me j I can t reft till I fee Charlotte 
 
 You know my Affairs now require Attendance. 
 
 Gran. That's true ; I beg you take no notice to Sophronia of 
 my being in Town : I have my Reafons for it. 
 
 Fran. Very well ; we fhall meet at Dinner Adieu. 
 
 [Exeunt federally. 
 
 
 ACT
 
 The Ladies Philofophy. 
 
 351 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 The SCENE, Sir Gilberts Houfe. 
 
 Sophronia and Charlotte. 
 
 C^.^HA ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Soph. Dear Sifter ! don't be 10 boifterous in your 
 Mirth : You really overpower me ! So much Voci- 
 feration is infupportable. 
 
 Char. Well ! well ! I beg your Pardon But you know 
 
 Laughing is the wholefomeft thing in the World ; and when one 
 has a hearty Occafion 
 
 Soph. To be vulgar you are refolv'd to appear fo. 
 
 Char. O ! I cannot help it, I love it dearly ; and pray, where's 
 the harm of it ? 
 
 Soph. Look you, Sifter, I grant you, that Rifibility is only gi- 
 ven to the Animal Rationale ; but you really indulge it, as if you 
 could give no other Proof of your Species. 
 
 Char. And if I were to come into your Sentiments, dear Sifter, 
 I am afraid the World would think I were of no Species at all. 
 
 Soph. The World, Sifter, is a Generation of Ignorants : And, 
 for my part, I am refolv'd to do what in me lies to put an end 
 to Posterity. 
 
 Char. Why you don't defpair of a Man, I hope. 
 
 Soph. No; but I will have all Mankind defpair of me. 
 
 Char. You'll pofitively die a Maid I 
 
 Soph. Yon, perhaps, may think that dying a Martyr; but I 
 fhall not die a Brute, depend upon't. 
 
 Char. Nay, I don't think you'll die either, if you can help it. 
 
 Soph. What do you mean, Madam ? 
 
 Char,
 
 3pz The Refusal; or, 
 
 Char. Only, Madam, that you are a Woman, and may happen 
 to change your Mind ; that's all. 
 
 Soplh A Woman ! that's To like your ordinary way of thinking ; 
 
 as if Souls had any Sexes No when I die, Madam, I 
 
 fhall endeavour to leave fuch Sentiments behind me, that 
 
 {non omnis mortar) the World will be convinc'd my purer Part 
 had no Sex at all. 
 
 Char. Why, truly, it will be hard to imagine, that any one of 
 our Sex could make fuch a Refolution : though I hope we are 
 not bound to keep all we make neither. 
 
 Soph. You'll find, Madam, that an elevated Soul may be al- 
 ways mafter of its perifhable Part. 
 
 Char. But, dear Madam, do you fuppofe our Souls are cramm'd 
 into our Bodies merely to fpoil (port, that a virtuous Woman is 
 only lent hither of a Fool's Errand ? What's the Ufe of our corn- 
 ins; into the World, if we are to go out of it, and leave nobody 
 behind us. 
 
 Soph. If our Species can be only fupported by thofe grofs Mix- 
 tures, of which Cookmaids and Footmen are capable, People of 
 Rank and Erudition ought certainly to deteft them. O ! what 
 pity 'tis the Divine Secret fhould be loft ! I have fomewhere read 
 of an antient Naturalift, whofe laborious Studies had difcover'd a 
 more innocent way of Propagation ; but, it feems, his Tablets un- 
 fortunately falling into his Wife's Hands, the grofs Creature threw 
 them into the Fire. 
 
 Char. Indeed, my dear Sifter, if you talk thus in Company, 
 People will take you for a Mad-woman. 
 
 Soph. I fhall be even with them, and think thofe mad, that dif- 
 fer from my Opinion. 
 
 Char. But I rather hope the World will be io charitable, as to 
 think this is not your real Opinion. 
 
 Soph. I fhall wonder at nothing that's {aid or thought by People 
 of your fullied Imagination. 
 
 Char. Sullied ! I would have you to know, Madam, I think of 
 nothing but what's decent and natural. 
 
 Soph. Don't be too pofirive, Nature has its Indecencies. 
 
 Char. That may be ; but I don't think of them. 
 
 Soph.
 
 The Ladies Philofophy. 393 
 
 Soph. No ! Did not you own to me juft now, you were deter- 
 min'd to marry ? 
 
 Char. Well ! and where's the Crime, pray ? 
 Soph. What ! you want to have me explain ? But I fhall not 
 defile my Imagination with fuch grofs Ideas. 
 
 Char. But, dear Madam, if Marriage were fuch an abominable 
 Bufinefs, how comes it that all the World allows it to be honou- 
 rable ? And I hope you wont expect me to be wifer than any of 
 my Anceftors, by thinking the contrary ? 
 
 Soph. No ; but if you will read Hiftory, Sifter, you will find, 
 that the Subjects of the greateft Empire upon Earth were only 
 propagated from violated Chaftity : The Sabine Ladies were Wives, 
 'tis true, but glorious, ravifh'd, Wives. Vanquifh'd they were in- 
 deed, but they furrender'd not : They fcream'd, and cry'd, and 
 tore, and as far as their weak Limbs would give them leave, re- 
 filled, and abhor'd the odious Joy 
 
 Char. And yet, for all that Nicenefs, they brought a chopping 
 Race ot Rakes, that bully'd the whole World about them. 
 
 Soph. The greater ftill their Glory, that though they were na- 
 turally prolifick, their Refiftance proved they were not Slaves to 
 Appetite. 
 
 Char. Ah ! Sifter ! if the Romans had not been Co fharp let, 
 the glorious Refiftance of thofe fine Ladies might have been all 
 turn'd into Coquettry. 
 
 Soph. There's the Secret, Sifter : Had our modern Dames but 
 the true Sabine Spirit of Difdain, Mankind might be again re- 
 duced to thofe old Roman Extremities ; and our fhamelefs Brides 
 would not then be led, but draggd to the Altar ; their Sponfalia 
 not call'd a. Marriage, but a Sacrifice : And the conquer'd Beauty, 
 not the bridal Virgin, but the Victim. 
 
 Char. O ridiculous ! And Co you would have no Woman mar- 
 ry'd, that were not firft ravifh'd, according to Law ? 
 
 Soph. I would have Mankind owe their Conqueft of us rather 
 to me Weakness ot our Limbs, than of our Souls. And if de- 
 fencelefs Women muft be Mothers, the Brutality at leaft fhould 
 lie all at their door. 
 
 Vol. II. E e e Char.
 
 394 Th e Refusal; or, 
 
 Char. Have a care of this Over-Nicenefs, dear Sifter, leftfome 
 agreeable young Fellow fhould feduce you to the Confufion or 
 parting with it. You'd make a mod rueful Figure in Love ! 
 
 Soph. Sifter, you make me fhudder at your Freedom ! I in love ! 
 I admit a Man ! What ! become the voluntary, the lawful Object 
 of a corporeal Senfuality I Like you ! to chufe myfelf a Tyrant ! 
 a Defpoiler ! a Husband ! Ugh ! 
 
 Char. I am afraid, by this Diforder of your Thoughts, dear 
 Sifter, you have got one in your Head, that you don't know how 
 to get rid of. 
 
 Soph. I have, indeed ; but it's only the Male-Creature that you 
 have a mind to. 
 
 Char. Why, that's pollible too ; for I have often obferv'd you 
 uneafy at Mr. Frankljs being particular to me. 
 
 Soph. If I am, 'tis upon your account, becaufe I know he im- 
 pofes upon you. 
 
 Char. You know it ? 
 
 Soph. I know his Heart, and that another is Miftrefs of it. 
 
 Char. Another ! 
 
 Scph. Another, but one that to my knowledge will never hear 
 of him ; fo don't be uneafy, dear Sifter, all in my power you 
 may be aillu'd of. 
 
 Char Surprizingly kind indeed ! 
 
 Soph. Ana you know too I have a great deal in my Inclina- 
 tion 
 
 Char. For me ? or him, dear Sifter ? 
 
 Soph. Nay, now you won't fufFer me to oblige you. I tell you, 
 I hate the Animal, and, for half a good word, would give him 
 away. 
 
 Char. What ! before you have him ? 
 
 Soph. This affected Ignorance is fo vain, dear Sifter, that I now 
 think it high time to explain to you. 
 
 Char. Then we iliall underftand one another. 
 
 Soph. You don't know, perhaps, that Mr. Frankly is paftionately 
 in love with me I 
 
 Char. I know, upon his treating with my Father, his Lawyer 
 once made you fbme Otiers. 
 
 Soph.
 
 The 'Ladies Philosophy. 399 
 
 Soph. Why then you may know too, that upon my flighting 
 thofe Offers, he fell immediately into a violent Defpair. 
 
 Char. I did not hear of its Violence. 
 
 Soph. So violent, that he has never fince dar'd to open his Lips 
 to me about it ; but to revenge the fecret Pains I gave him, has 
 made his publick Addrefles to you. 
 
 Char. Indeed, Sifter, you furprize me ; and 'tis hard to fay, 
 that Men impoie more upon us, than we upon ourfelves. 
 
 Soph. Therefore, by what I have told you, you may now be 
 convinc'd he is falfe to you. 
 
 Char. But is there a neceflity, my dear Scphronia, that I muft 
 rather believe you than him ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Soph. How, Madam ? Have you the Confidence to queftion 
 my Veracity, by fuppofing me capable of an Endeavour to de- 
 ceive you r 
 
 Char. No hard Words, dear Sifter ; I only fuppofe you as ca- 
 pable of deceiving yourfelf, as I am. 
 
 Soph. Oh ! mighty probable indeed ! You are a Perfon of in- 
 finite Penetration ! Your Studies have open'd to you the utmoft 
 Recedes of Human Nature : But let me tell you, Sifter, that Va- 
 nity is the only Fruit of Toilet-Lucubrations. I deceive myfelf : 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Char. One of us certainly does ! Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Soph. There I agree with you. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Char. Till I am better convinc'd then on which fide the Vani- 
 ty lies, give me leave to laugh in my turn, dear Sifter. 
 
 Soph. O ! bv all means, fweet Madam ! Ha! ha ! 
 
 Both. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Char. O ! here's Mamma, fhe perhaps may decide the Quef- 
 tion. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Enter Lady Wrangle. 
 
 L. Wr. So, Mrs. Charlotte ! what wonderful Nothing, pray, may 
 be the Subject of this mighty Merriment ? 
 
 Soph. Nothing indeed, Madam, or what's next to nothing j a 
 Man, it feems. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 L. Wr. Charlotte^ wilt thou never have any thing elfe in thy Head ? 
 
 Eee 1 Char.
 
 39<S The Refusal ; or, 
 
 Char. I was in hopes nothing, that was in my Sifter's Head, 
 would be a Crime in mine, Madam. 
 
 L. Wr. Your Sifter's ! What ? How ? Who is it you are laugh- 
 ing at ? 
 
 Char. Only one another, Madam ; but perhaps your Ladyfhip 
 may laugh at us both ; for, it feems, my Sifter and I both infift, 
 that Mr. Frankly is poiitively in love but with one of us. 
 
 L. Wr. Who, Child ? 
 
 Soph. Mr. Frankly, Madam. 
 
 L.Wr. Mr. Frankly in love with one of you ! 
 
 Soph. Ay, Madam j but it feems we both take him to ourfelves. 
 
 L. Wr. Then Charlotte was in the right in one Point. 
 
 Soph. In what, dear Madam ? 
 
 L. Wr. Why, that for the fame reafon you have been laughing 
 at one another, I muft humbly beg leave to laugh at you both — 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Char. So ! this is rare Sport. [Afide. 
 
 L. Wr. But pray, Ladies, how long has the Chimacra of this 
 Gentleman's Pailion for you been in either of your Heads? 
 
 Soph. Nay, Madam, not that I value the Conqueft, but your 
 .Ladyfhip knows he once treated with my Father upon my account. 
 
 L. Wr. I know he made that his Pretence to get acquainted in 
 the Family. 
 
 Soph. Perhaps, Madam, I have more coercive Reafons, but am 
 not concern'd enough at prefent to infift upon their Validity. 
 
 L. Wr. Sophronia, you have Prudence. [Soph, walks by, and, 
 readsi] But what have you to urge, fweet Lady r How came this 
 Gentleman into your Head, pray ? 
 
 Char. Really, Madam, I can't well fay how he got in, but there 
 he is, that's certain : What will be able to get him out again, Hea- 
 ven knows. 
 
 L.Wr. Oil I I'll inform youthen; think no more of him than 
 he thinks of you, and I'll anfwer for your Cure. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Char. I fhall follow your Prefcription, Madam, when I am once 
 fure how little he thinks of me. 
 
 L. Wr. Then judge of that, when I allure you, that his Heart 
 is utterly and fblely given up to me. 
 
 Soph.
 
 The Ladies Philofophy. 397 
 
 Soph. Well ! I did not think my Lady had been capable of fo 
 much Weaknefs. [oA/ide. 
 
 Char. How ! to you, Madam ? How is that poflible, unlels he 
 makes you difhonourable Offers ? 
 
 L. Wr. There's no occafion to flippofe that neither ; there are 
 Pafllons you have no Notion of : He knows my Virtue is im- 
 pregnable ; but that preserves him mine. 
 
 Char. Nay, this does puzzle me indeed, Madam. 
 
 Soph. If you had ever read Plato, Sifter, -you might have known, 
 that Pailions of the greateft Dignity have not their Source from 
 Veins and Arteries. 
 
 L. Wr. Sophronia, give me leave to judge of that 5 perhaps I 
 don't infift that he is utterly Platonkk neither : The Manfion of 
 the Soul may have its Attractions too ; he is as yet but Vdum (£ 
 Molle Lutum and may take what Form I pleafe to give him. 
 
 Char. Well, Madam, fince I fee he is Co utterly at your Lady- 
 fhip's Difpofal, and that 'tis impofiibie your Virtue can make any 
 uie of him in my vulgar way ; fliall I beg your good word to my 
 Father, only to make me Miftrels of his mortal Part I 
 
 L. Wr. Heavens ! what will this World come to ? This Crea- 
 ture has fcarce been two Years from School, and yet is impatient 
 for a Husband ? No, Madam, you are too young ; as yet but — 
 Cruda Marlto. Your Education is not yet finifh'd ; firft cultivate 
 your Mind, correct and mortify thefe Sallies of your Blood ; 
 learn of your Sifter here, to live a bright Example oi your Sex ; 
 refine your Soul, give your happier Hours up to Science, Arts, 
 and Letters ; enjoy tiie Raptures of Philofophy, fubdue your Paf- 
 lions, and renounce the fenfual Commerce of Mankind. 
 
 Char. O ! dear Madam, I fhould make a piteous Philofopher. 5 
 indeed your Ladyfhip had much better put me out to the Bufinefs 
 I am fit for : Here's my Sifter has Learning enough o'Confcience 
 for any one Family ; and, of the two, I had much rather follow 
 your Ladyfhip's Example, and ufe my humble Endeavours to en- 
 creafe it. 
 
 L. Wr. My Example ! Do you fuppofe then, if I had been ca- 
 pable of grofs Defires, I would have chofen your Father for the 
 Gratificator of them ? 
 
 Char.
 
 35)8 The Refusal; or, 
 
 Char. Why not, Madam ; my Papa's a hale Man, and though 
 he has twice your Ladylhip's Age, he walks as flrait, and leads up 
 a Country-Dance as brisk as a Beau at a Ball. 
 
 L. Wr. Come, none of your fenfual Inferences from thence ; 
 I was govern'd by my Parents : I had other Views in marrying 
 Mr. Wrangle. 
 
 Char. Yes, a fwinging Jointure. [oAfide. 
 
 L. Wr. When you have gone through my Studies, Madam, 
 Philofophy will tell you, 'tis poffible a well-natur'd Mind, tho 
 fated to a Husband, may be at once a Wife and Virgin. 
 
 Char. Prodigious ! [_Afide. 
 
 L. Wr. What is it you fiiiile at, Madam ? 
 
 Char. Nothing, Madam, only I don't underftand thefe Philofo- 
 phical Myfteries ; but if your Ladyfhip will indulge me, in mar- 
 rying Mr. Frankly, as for dying a Maid afterwards, 111 take my 
 Chance for it. 
 
 L. Wr. What a giddy Confidence ! But thou art ftrangely vain, 
 Charlotte, to be fo importunate for a Man, that, as I have told 
 thee, has the Misfortune to be pailionately in love with me. 
 
 Char. Indeed, indeed, Madam, if your Lady/hip would but give 
 him leave to open his Mind freely, he would certainly tell you 
 another Story. 
 
 L. Wr. I will fend for him this minute, and convince you of 
 your Error. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Serv. Madam, Mr. Frankly. 
 
 L.Wr. He never came more opportunely: Defire him to 
 walk in. 
 
 Enter Air. Frankly. 
 
 L. Wr. O ! Mr. Frankly, the welcomed Man alive. 
 
 Fran. Then I am the happied, I am Hire, Madam. 
 
 L. Wr. O fy ! Is there any one of this Company could make 
 you fo ? 
 
 Fran. There's one in the Company, Madam, has a great deal 
 more in her power, than I am afraid flie'll part with to me. 
 
 Soph.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. 399 
 
 Soph. Are you this hard-hearted Lady, Sifter ? Does this Dc- 
 fcription reach you, pray ? [Afide. 
 
 Char. The Power does not defcribe you, I'll anfwer for it.[Afide. 
 
 L. Wr. Nay, now you grow particular You have fome- 
 
 thing to fay to one or theie Ladies, I'm fure. [To Fran. 
 
 Fran. I have fomething, Madam, to fay to both of them. 
 
 Soph. Shall we let him fpeak, Sifter ? 
 
 Char. Freely. 
 
 L. Wr. Which of thefe two now, if you were free to chufe, 
 could you really give up your Heart to ? 
 
 Fran. O ! Madam, as to that I dare only lay, as Sir John 
 Suckling did upon the fame Occafion. 
 
 Soph. Pray, what was that ? 
 
 Fran. He fure is happiefi, that has Hopes of either ; 
 Next Him, is He, that fees you both together. 
 
 L. Wr. Perfectly fine : Nor is there more Wit in the Verfes 
 themfelves, than in your polite Application of them Mr. Frank- 
 ly, I muft beg your pardon 1 know it's rude to whifper, but 
 
 you have Good-Nature ; and to oblige a Woman 
 
 Fran. Is the Bufinefs of my Life, Madam What the Devil 
 
 can all this mean ? I have been oddly catechizd here Sure 
 
 they have not all agreed to bring me to a Declaration for one of 
 them it looks a little like it But then, how comes Char- 
 lotte into (o vain a Project ? nay, fo hazardous ? She can't but 
 know, my holding the other two in play has been the only means 
 
 of my getting Admittance to her perhaps they may have 
 
 piqued her into this Experiment not unlikely but I muft 
 
 be cautious. [oAfide.. 
 
 L. Wr. Nay, Ladies, you can't but fay I laid you fairly in his 
 way : [ Apart to Soph, and Char.] And yet you fee from how pal- 
 pable a Regard to me, he has ingenioully avoided a Declaration 
 for either of you, at leaft. 
 
 Soph. Your Ladyfhip won't be offended, if, for a moment, we 
 ftiould fufpend your Conclusion. 
 
 L. Wr. Not in the leaft ; if Suipence can make you happy, live 
 always in it. 
 
 Char. But pray, Madam, let him go on a little. 
 
 L.Wr.
 
 400 The Refusal; or, 
 
 L. Wr. Oh ! you fhall have enough of him. Well, you are a 
 horrid Tyrant, Mr. Frankly : Done you plainly fee here are two 
 Ladies in this Company, that have a mind you fhould declare in 
 favour of one of them ? 
 
 Iran. Yes, Madam, but I plainly fee, there are three Ladies 
 in the Company. 
 
 L. Wr. What then ? 
 
 Fran. Why then, Madam, I am more afraid of offending that 
 third Perfon, than either of the other two. 
 
 L. Wr. [To Soph, and Char.] Obferve his Diffidence, his Awe, 
 he knows I love Refpecl:. 
 
 Soph. With Submiilion, Madam, I never was familiar with him. 
 
 L. Wr. Come, now do you both ask the Queftion, as I have 
 done, each exclufive of herfelf. 
 
 Char. Your Ladyfhip's in the right [Afide. 
 
 Sir, without any Apology then, I am oblig'd to ask you, whether 
 it be my Lady, or my Sifter, you really are in love with ? 
 
 Fran. So now it's plain, [Afide.] When either or them ask me, 
 you'll be out of the Queftion, 1 can allure you, Madam. 
 
 L. Wr. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Soph. Who's in the Queftion now, Sifter. 
 
 Char. If I had put myfelf in, you would not have been there, 
 I'll anfwer for him. [Afide. 
 
 Soph. Then I'll do you that Favour, Madam. 
 
 Fran. So ! Now the t'other but I am ready for her too. 
 
 Soph. You fee, Sir, the Humour we are in ; Tho don\ fup- 
 pofe, if I ask you the fame Queftion, 'tis from the fame Motive ; 
 
 but fince thefe Ladies have oblig'd me to it which of them 
 
 is it you fincerely are a Slave to ? 
 
 Fran. Since I find your Motive is only Complaifance to them, 
 Madam, I hope you will not think it needs an Anfwer. 
 
 Soph. I am fatisfy'd- 
 
 Your Ladyfhip was pleas'd to mention Refpect 1 think there's 
 
 Refpecl: and Demon ftration too, Madam. [Afide to L. W. 
 
 L. W I grant it -but both to me, Child But I will 
 
 fpeak once more for all of us Sir, that you may not be re- 
 
 uue'd to farther Ambiguities fuppofe we are all agreed, you 
 
 fhould
 
 The Ladies Philofophy. 401 
 
 fhould have leave to declare which of us then your Heart is ut- 
 terly in the Difpofal of 
 
 Fran. Then I mull fuppofe. Madam, that one of you has a 
 mind I fhould make the other two my Enemies. 
 
 L. Wr. All your Friends, depend upon us. 
 
 Fram So were all the three GoddeiTes to Paris, Madam, till he 
 prefum'd to be particular, and ralhiy gave the Apple to Venus : 
 You know, Madam, Juno was his immortal Enemy ever after. 
 
 -Manet aha mente Repo/tm, 
 
 Judicium Paradis, JpreUque Injuria For mm. 
 
 L. Wr. Sir, you' are excus'd ; the Modefty and Elegance of 
 your Reply has charm'd me. 
 
 Soph. Now, Sifter, was this Delicacy of his Tafte and Learning 
 (hewn to recommend himfelf to me, or you, think you ? 
 
 Char. O ! I don't difpute its recommending him to you. 
 
 Scpb. He thinks it does, depend upon't. 
 
 Char. Tho I can hardly think that ot him, yet I can't fay in- 
 deed he has taken much Pains to recommend himfelr to me all 
 this while : I fee no reafbn, becaufe they are to be refpected for- 
 footh, that I may not be pleas'd in my turn too. [To herjelf. 
 
 Fran. And now, Ladies, 2,ive me leave to ask you a Queftion. 
 
 L. Wr. You may command us, Sir. 
 
 Fran. Then whofe cruel Propofal was it ? to urge me to a Decla- 
 ration of my Heart, when you all knew there was not one of you, 
 from the Diipofition oi whofe Mind or Circumftances, I could 
 hope the leaft Favour or Mercy. 
 
 L. Wr. Explain yourfelf 
 
 Fran. Why firft, Madam, as to your Ladyfhip, you are honou- 
 rably difpos'd of from you my utmoft Vanity could no more 
 
 form a Hope, than could your Virtue give it And here [To 
 
 Soph.] if poilible, my Fate were harder ftill here Imufthave 
 
 to encounter Rivals numberlefs and invincible. 
 
 Soph. Rivals ! 
 
 Fran. Ay, Madam, is not every Volume in your Library a Ri- 
 val . p Do you not pafs whole Days, nay fometimes happier Nights, 
 
 Vol. II. Fff with
 
 40Z The R e f u s a l ; or, 
 
 with them alone } The Living and the Dead promifcuous in your 
 Favour ? Old venerable Sages, even in their Graves, can give you, 
 Raptures, from whofe Divine Enjoyment no mortal Lover can 
 permade you. 
 
 Soph. [To Char.] Is this to pleafe you, Sifter ? 
 
 Char. Truly, I think not he has miftaken the w ay at leaft. 
 
 Fran. [Turning to Char.] And here, Madam 
 
 L. Wr. Hold, Sir a Truce with your Negatives, left they 
 
 grow too vehement in their Affirmation you have hitherto my 
 
 Efteem preferve it by your Difcretion, and force me not to 
 
 revoke the Freedom I have this day given you- Sophronia, I 
 
 have carried this Matter to the very utmoft Limits of Discretion — 
 I hope you, and your Sifter, are now deliver'd from your Error ; 
 if not, I'll inftantly withdraw, and leave you to a full Conviction. 
 
 [Exit Lady Wrangle. 
 
 Fran. I am afraid my Lady takes fomething ill of me. 
 
 Soph. Sir, what you have done was from her own Defire ; and 
 fince I partly am the Occaiion, it is but juft I ftand engag'd for 
 your Reconciliation. 
 
 Fran. Then give me leave to hope, Madam 
 
 Soph. From what Pretenfion, Sir ? . From any Weaknefs of my 
 Behaviour ? Hope ! do you confider the licentious and extenfive 
 Confequences of that odious Word ? Hope ! you make me trem- 
 ble at the Thought. 
 
 Fran. Madam, I only mean 
 
 Soph. I know your Meaning, Sir ; and therefore muft not hear it. 
 
 Fran. This is new with a Vengeance. [dfide. 
 
 -Soph. Sifter, lam forry our Argument has reduced me to ftand 
 fo outrageous an Inftance of your Conviction ; but you may pro- 
 fit from the Infult : You now may learn to moderate your Vanity, 
 
 and to know yourielf. O ! 'tis a Heavenly LeiTon B Coelo 
 
 defcendit, Gnothe feauton. 
 
 Fran. What a folid Happinefs now is crept into her Mind 
 
 through the Crack of her Brain 1 hope you are not going too, 
 
 Madam I 
 
 Char. I don't know any Bufinefs I have here. 
 
 Fran. So I-gad ! I We difoblig'd them all, I believe : 
 
 [^4fide,~\ You are not out of humour ? Char.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. 403 
 
 Char. I do not know whether I am or no. 
 
 Fran. So cold Charlotte, after I have had my Wits upon the 
 ftretch, this half hour, to oblige you ? 
 
 Char. What, in blowing up other People's Vanity at my Expence. 
 
 Fran. Would you have had me blown up their Jealoufy, at the 
 Expence of my Well-being with you ? 
 
 Char. You, that are fo dextrous in impofing upon others, may 
 impofe upon me too, for ought I know. 
 
 Fran. Come, come, don't impofe upon yourielf, Charlotte, by 
 this groundlefs, this childiih Refentment. 
 
 Char. She that has no Refentment at all, may be under-treated 
 as long as ffie lives, I find. 
 
 Fran. Pray think a little ; is my having made them ridiculous 
 by your own Confent, expofing you to them, or them to you ? 
 
 Char. I don't know how the Matter's contriv'd ; but I certainly 
 find myfelf uneafy, and you can't perfuade me I am not Co. 
 
 Fran. Well, well ; fince you can't juftify your being in an ill 
 Humour, it's a fair Step at leaft to your coming into a good one. 
 
 Char. Come, I will not be wheedled now. 
 
 Fran. Nay, but hear me. 
 
 Sophronia enters unfeen, while Frankly feems to entertain Char- 
 lotte apart. 
 
 Soph. What can thefe Creatures be doing alone together ? I 
 thought I left my Sifter in too ill a Humour to retire with him ; 
 but I fee thefe Carnage-Lovers have fuch a Meannefs in their Souls, 
 they'll overlook the m-ofTeft Ufa<2:e to accommodate their fenfual 
 
 Concorpoiation 'Tis fo — her Eyes have loft all Refentment 
 
 already : But I muff not be feen, left they miftake my innocent 
 Curiofity for Jealoufy. 
 
 Char. Well, but you might have thrown in a civil thing to me 
 in my turn too. 
 
 Fran. Alas ! poor Lady ! Pray what one civil thing did I mean 
 to any body but yourfelf ? Befides, was not you one of the three 
 Goddefles, Mifs Charlotte ? Which of the Company do you fup- 
 pofe I meant by Venus, pray ? 
 
 Char. How filly you make me ? 
 
 F f f 2. Fran.
 
 404 ^Refusal; or, 
 
 Fran. Nay I was going to fay a great deal more to you, if my 
 Lady had not flopt my Mouth. 
 
 Soph. Is it poflible ? [Afide. 
 
 Char. Why then I beg your pardon ; for, in fhort, I find I have 
 only been Fool enough to be uneafy, becaufe they had not Senfe 
 enough to be mortified. 
 
 Fran. A pretty innocent Confeffion truly. 
 
 Soph. Have I my Senfes ? 
 
 Char. Well ! but tell me what was it vou had a mind to fay 
 to me : 
 
 Fran. Nothing to what I now could fay O Charlotte ! my 
 
 Heart grows full of you j the leaft Look oi Kindnefs foftens me 
 to Folly ! Indeed I iove you. 
 
 Soph. Soh ! 
 
 Char. And for what, after all ? [Smiling. 
 
 Fran. For that, and for a thoufand Charms befide : [Freffing her 
 Fland] There's fomething in your Looks fo fott, fo gentle, fo 
 refign'd, and plaintive ; I loved before I knew it, and only thought 
 I gave the Pity that I wanted. 
 
 Char. What Tranfport's in the Pafiion, when the Tendernefs is 
 mutual ? 
 
 Soph. O ! the enormous Creature ! But I'll be gone, left her 
 
 Intoxication fhould know no Bounds No on fecond 
 
 Thoughts I'll flay This odious Object may be 
 
 F anTchar* uleuj l > 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 <vanquiJFd God purjud, but to defpair, 
 While deathlefs Laurels crown d the flying Fair. 
 
 Fran. So ! there's one Plague over ; I have difcharg'd my Con- 
 icience upon her at lead. 
 
 Char. Ha ! ha ! what a pretty way though, my good Sifter has 
 of turning a Slight into a Triumph ? But flie has a great Heart. 
 
 Fran. O ! 'twould be hard to deny her chat Satisfaction ; be- 
 ildc, the greateft Heart in the World did juft the lame : We have 
 known t\\G lare Grand Monarch lole many a Battle j but it was 
 bloody hard to beat him out of a Te Deum. 
 
 Char. Well, but now, how Lhall we manage my Father ? 
 
 Fran. Here he comes. 
 
 Enter Sir Gilbert. 
 
 Sir Gilb. So, Mr. Frankly ! you fee I give you fair Play and 
 
 troth ! 1 have a great Refpect for you But — a — a Bargain's 
 
 a Bargain ; if another Man has really paid for my Content, you 
 muft not take it ill, if I don't reiule him. 
 
 Fran.
 
 The Ladies Philofophy. 41^ 
 
 Fran. I can't pretend to ask it, Sir ; I think it Favour enough, 
 if you don't oblige your Daughter to refufe me. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Not I, not I, Man ; that's out ok the Queftion : She 
 may pleafe herfelf, and if Witling fhould not pleafe her ; troth ! 
 I can't fay it would not pleafe me too : In fliort, if you two have 
 
 Wit enough to make up the Difference, and bring me off 
 
 why there's no more to be faid If not Accounts muft 
 
 be made up 1 have taken the Premium, and mud ftand to 
 
 my Contract : For let me tell you, Sir, we Citizens are as tender 
 or our Credit in Change- Alley, as you fine Gentlemen are of your 
 Honour at Court. 
 
 Fran. Sir, depend upon it, your Credit ftiall not fufFer by me, 
 whatever it may by your Comparifon. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Why, what ails the Comparifon ? Sir, I think the Cre- 
 dit of the City may be compared to that of any Body of Men in 
 Europe. 
 
 Fran. Yes, Sir ; but you miftake me : I queftion if any Bodies 
 may be compared to that of the City. 
 
 Sir Gilb. O ! your humble Servant, Sir ; I did not take you — 
 Ay, ay, you're right ! you're right ! Ay, ay, a}', live and learn, 
 Mr. Frankly : You'll find 'tis not your Court, but City-Politicians 
 muft do the Nation's Bufinefs at laft. Why, what did your Cour- 
 tiers do all the two laft Reigns, but borrow Money to make War ? 
 and make War to make Peace, and make Peace to make War ? 
 And then to be Bullies in one, and Bubbles in t'other ? A very 
 pretty Account truly ; but we have made Money, Man : .Money ! 
 Money ! there's the Health and Life-Blood of a Government: 
 And therefore I infift upon't, that we are the wifeft Citizens in Eu- 
 rope ; for we have coin'd more Cafh in an Hour, than the Tower 
 of London in twenty Years. 
 
 Fran. Nay, you govern the World now, it's plain, Sir j and 
 truly that makes us hope it's upon the mending hand : For fince 
 our Men of Quality are got fo thick into Change-Alley, who knoWs 
 but in time a Great Man's Word may go as far as a Tradefman's ? 
 
 Sir Gilb. Ah ! a Wag ! a Wag ! In troth, Mr. Frankly, the more 
 I know you, the more I like you : I fee you know the World, you 
 judge of Men by their intrinfick Value \ and you're right ! you're 
 
 risln !
 
 4i6 7J^ Refusal; or, 
 
 right ! Titles are empty things : A wife Man will always be a wife 
 Man, whether he has any Title or no. 
 
 Fran. Ay, av, Sir, and when a Fool gets one, he's only known 
 to be a greater Fool. 
 
 Sir Gtlb. You're right again ; befides, Sir, fhall any Man value 
 himfelf upon a thing, that another may buy for his Money as well 
 
 as he ? Ridiculous a very pretty "Buimefs truly, to give Ten 
 
 or Twenty Tlioufand Pound, only to be called out or one's Name: 
 Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Fran. Nay, Sir, and perhaps too, lofe the Privilege of a pri- 
 vate Subject, that of being believ'd upon your Honour, or trufted 
 upon your Word. 
 
 Sit 'Gilb. Honour's a Joke! Is not every honeft Man a Man of 
 Honour ? 
 
 Fran. Av, but the beft Joke is, that every Man of Honour is 
 not an honeft Man, Sir. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Odsbodlikins, Mr. Frankly, you are an ingenious Gen- 
 tleman, and I rauft have you into my Family, though it colt me 
 Twenty Thoufand Pound to keep that pragmatical Fellow out on't. 
 
 Iran. If I have any Pretence to your Favour, Sir, I will take 
 care your Family fhall not fufTer by my coming into it ; for if the 
 worft muft happen, 'tis but waiting till the other half Year of Wit- 
 lings Contract's expir'd ? I dare anfwer your Daughter won't run 
 away with him in the mean time. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Ay, but there's the Queftion ? Is the Girl (launch ? 
 Are you fure now, that, like a young Hound, ihe may not gallop 
 away with the rank Scent of a Coxcomb, and fo fpoil your Sport. 
 
 Fran. I dare fay, fh'ell take this Fear for a Favour -belt 
 
 examine her yourielf, Sir. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Come hither, Charlotte. 
 
 Char. Your Pleafure, Sir ? 
 
 Sir Gilb. Are you fure you are as wife as other fine Ladies of 
 your Age, that know more of Mankind than their Fathers, and 
 confequently have a natural Averfion to all Husbands of their 
 chufing ? In fhort, have you learnt enough of the World, to be 
 heartily difobedient uponOccaiion ? 
 
 Char.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. 417 
 
 Char. When you pleafe to give me the Occafion, Sir, I will 
 try what I can do. 
 
 Sir Glib. Humh ! (he promifes fair, [To Frankly afide.] The Girl 
 
 has Wit But now, Child, the Queflion is, whether you have 
 
 common Senfe or no (for they don't always go together) are you 
 fmoaky ? Have you all your Eye-Teeth yet? Are you peery, as the 
 Cant is ? In fhort, do you know what I would be at now ? 
 
 Char. Will you give leave to guefs, Sir ? 
 
 Sir Glib. Out with it. 
 
 Char. Why then (1 hope at leaft, Sir) you have a mind to make 
 Witling believe, you are doing, all in your power, to bring his Bar- 
 gain to bear ; and, at the fame time, wifh I would do all, in my 
 power, to bring it to nothing. 
 
 Sir Glib. [Afide.] It will do ! it will do ! Mr. Frankly, tell her 
 fhe's right ; you know it is not honeft tor me to fay 10 : a hum ! 
 
 Char. In (hort, Sir, if you'll leave the matter to my Difcretion, 
 I'll engage to bring you off. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Bring me off, HulTy ! why, have you the Confidence 
 to fuppofe I won't do the fair thing by the Gentleman ? 
 
 Char. I have not the Confidence to fuppofe you would do a 
 hard thing by this Gentleman, indeed Papa ! [Takes Frankly V Hand. 
 
 Sir Gilb. D'ye hear ! d'ye hear ! what a fenfible Aiturance the 
 Slut has ? All ! it's a wheedling Toad ! [Afide.] Adod ! I'll have a 
 
 little more of her But do you know, Lady, that Mr. Witling 
 
 has demanded my Confent, and that it would coft me above 
 Twenty Thoufand Pounds to refute it ? 
 
 Char. Yes, Sir, I do know it; and if I were to give him my 
 Content, I know I friould have much the worfe Bargain of the 
 two. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Your Confent ! Why fure, Madam, when I fay do fb, 
 do you pretend to have a Will of your own P 
 
 Char. Umh ! a leetle ! a fmall Pulle, you know, Papa. 
 
 [Fawning on Sir Gilb. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Ah ! the coaxing Gipfy / why, you Confident, abomi- 
 nable Odfheart ! I could kits her 
 
 Fran. Faith ! do, Sir, that's no Breach of your Contract. 
 
 Vo l. II. H h h Sir
 
 418 The Refusal; or, 
 
 Sir Glib. No ! no ! that's not fair neither, I am to be angry with 
 
 her befides, I don't keep my word, if I don't fpeak a good 
 
 one for him. 
 
 Char. That's fiot in your power, Sir; 'tis impoffible any body 
 can give him a good word, at leaft to me. 
 
 Sir Glib. How ! how ! will not a handfome young Fellow, with 
 an Hundred Thoufand Pound in his Pocket, go down with you ? 
 Will not a full Plumb melt in your Mouth, Miftrefs Dainty. 
 
 Char. Thank you, Sir ; but I don't love Trafli. 
 
 Sir Glib. Trafh ! Mr. Witling Trafli ! 
 
 Char. A Coxcomb. 
 
 Sir Gilb. I fay he is 
 
 Char. My Averiion. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Bear witnefs, Mr. Frankly, fhe refufes him j you fee all 
 I fay fignifies nothing : But I fay again and again, that I am re- 
 folv'd, Madam, you fhall marry him, and that Articles Ihall be 
 drawn this very morning. 
 
 Char. But do you think you can't perfuade him to flay a little, 
 Sir. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Stay ! yes ; yes ; a reafonable time, that is. 
 
 Char. You'll think it a reafonable one, I am fure, Sir. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Well ! well ! how long ? 
 
 Char. Only till I have done hating him, that's all. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Pfhah ■ riddle faddle ! marry him firft, and you will 
 have time enough to hate him afterwards. 
 
 Char. Well, Sir, then I have but one Favour to beg of you 
 
 Sir Gilb. Come • what is't ? what is't ? 
 
 Char. Cnly, Sir, that in the Draught of the Articles, you will be 
 pleafed to leave a Blank for the Gentleman's Name j and if I don't 
 fill it up to your Mind, fay I know nothing of my own. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Fie ! fie ! you wicked thing you Mr. Frankly, it will 
 
 do ! it will do ! the Girl has all her Goings \ keep her right, keep 
 her right and tight; and I'll warrant thee all (afe, Boy. 
 
 Fran. Never fear, Sir, now there', but one Difficulty behind ; 
 
 were it but poffible to make my Lady our Friend in this matter- 
 Sir Gilb. Pfhaw ! waw ! never mind her ; Am not I Mafter of 
 my own Family? Does not fhe know that my Will's a Law ? and 
 if I once fay the word ; ; Fran.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. 419 
 
 Fran. That's true, Sir; but, you know, one would not make her 
 a needlefs Enemy : She'll think herfelf affronted, take it as an In- 
 fult to her Underftanding, not to be let into the Secret at all. 
 
 Char. Indeed, Sir, I am afraid we fhall have a foul Houfe, if 
 Ihe is not confulted in this Bufinefs. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Nay, nay, with all my Heart ; but the foolifli Woman 
 always loves to difpute about nothing, and fuch a Spirit of Con- 
 tradiction runs away with her, 1 had as lief fit in the Stocks, as talk 
 to her: however, for your private Satisfaction 
 
 Fran. Indeed, Sir, I think it will be better lb. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Well ! well ! then I'll tell her mv Resolution initantlv. 
 
 Char. Ah ! poor Papa ! what a wicked Diftrefs have we brought 
 him to ? Now will he rather run upon the Mouth of a Cannon, 
 than let us fee he is afraid of Gunpowder. 
 
 Fran. How my Lady will bounce when he mentions it ! \_Afide. 
 
 Sir Gilb. O ! here's my Lady, I'll fpeak to her now. 
 
 Fran. It you pleafe, we'll retire, that you may have no Inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Do Co, you're right, you're right. [Ex. Fran, and Char. 
 
 Enter Lady Wrangle, driving a Maid- Servant in before her. 
 
 L. Wr. Out of my Doors, you Dunce ! you illiterate Monfter ! 
 What ! could not you read ? could not you fpell ? where were 
 your Eves, vou brainlefs Idiot ■ 
 
 Sir Gilb. Heyday ! heyday ! what's the matter now ? 
 
 L. Wr. Go ! you eleventh Plague of Egypt. 
 
 Maid. Indeed, Madam, I did not know it was of any ufe, it was 
 10 blotted and blurred, I took it for wafte Paper. 
 
 L. Wr. Blurred ! you Driveler ! was ever any Piece perfect, that 
 had not Corrections, Rafures, Interlineations, and Improvements i 
 Does riot the very Original fhew, that when the Mind is warmeft 
 it's never fatisried with its words ? 
 
 Incipit, & dubitat', fcribit, damnatque tabellas, 
 Et not at, & delet ; mutat, cnlpatque probatque. 
 
 Sir Gilb. O Lord ! now the Learned Fit's upon her, the Devil 
 won't be able to deal with her. [Afide. 
 
 Hhhi L. Wr.
 
 410 The Refusal ; or, 
 
 L. Wr. What have you done with it, you Dolthead ? where is 
 it ? fetch it, let me lee it, I fay. 
 
 Sir Glib. Pray, my Lady Wrangle, what is all this Rout about ? 
 
 L. Wr. O ! nothing to be fure '• I am always unreafonable- 
 
 Sir Gilb. Why look you now, did I fay any fuch thing ? 
 
 L. PFr. I don't care if you did. 
 
 Sir Gilb. It's very hard a Man may not ask a civil Queftion in 
 his own Houfe. 
 
 L. Wr. Ay, do, fide with her, take her part j do, do, uphold 
 her in her Impudence, 
 
 Sir Gilb. Why, my Lady, did I fay a word to her ? 
 
 L. Wr. Pray, Mr. Wrangle, give me leave to govern my own 
 
 Servants Don't you know, when I am out of Temper, I won't 
 
 be talk'd to ?— Have not I Plague enough here, do you think ? 
 
 Sir Gilb. Why, ay, that's true too why, you confident Jade ! 
 
 how dare you put my Lady into fuch a violent Pailion ? 
 
 Maid. Indeed, Sir, I don't know, not I. [Whimpering. 
 
 L. Wr. Pray, Mr. Wrangle, meddle with your own Bufinefs — ■ 
 the Fault's to me, and, lure, 1 am old enough to correct her 
 myfelf. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Why, what-a-dickens, mayn't I be of your Mind nei- 
 ther ? 'Sheart ! I can't be in the wrong on both fides. 
 
 L.W- I don't know any Bufinefs you have on either fide. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Nay, if a Man muft not fpeak at all, it's another Cafe. 
 
 L. Wr. Lord ! you are ftrangely teizing well, come fpeak 
 
 what ! what ! what is't you would fay now ? 
 
 Sir Gilb. Nay, nothing, not I ; I only ask what's the Matter ? 
 
 L. Wr. I can't tell you, the Provocation's too great tor words. 
 
 Sir Gilb, Well ! well ! well ! 
 
 L. Wr. What here ftill ? Am I to have no account of it then ? 
 What have you done with it, you Monfler ? 
 
 Maid. Madam, the Cook took it out of my Hand, as I was 
 coming down Stairs with it ; he faid he wanted it. 
 
 L. Wr. The Cook ! run ! fly, and bid the Villain fend it me 
 this moment. [Exit Maid. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Why, what-the-dickens ! the fenfelefs Jade has not 
 given him a Flanders Laced-Head to boil his Cabbage in, has fhe? 
 
 L. Wr.
 
 The Ladies Philosophy. 42 1 
 
 L. Wr. Pfhah ! do you ever fee me concern'd for fuch Trifles ? 
 Sir Gilb. Or has £he let the Rafcal finge his Fowls with a Bank" 
 Bill ? 
 
 L. Wr. If fhe had, do you think I would give myfelf fuch Pain 
 about that either ? 
 
 Sir Gilb. Hah ! thil muft be fome abominable thing indeed then. 
 L. Wr. The Lois, for ought I know, may be irreparable. 
 Sir Gilb. Oh ! then fhe has loft your Diamond Necklace, I fup- 
 poie. 
 
 L. Wr. Pray don't plague me, 'tis impoflible to exprefs the Wic- 
 kednefs of it. 
 
 Sir Gilb. What ! the Devil ! the Cook has not got the Slut 
 with Child, has he ? 
 
 L. Wr. Worfe ! worfe a thoufand times' ! 
 
 Sir Gilb. Worfe ! what than playing the Whore, or Thief I 
 Then the Jade has certainly committed Murder. 
 
 L.Wr. The moft barbarous that ever was 
 
 Sir Gilb. Hoh ! then fhe has broke Pug's Neck, to be fure. 
 
 [zAfide. 
 L. Wr. The- Changeling Innocent has given that favage Beaft, 
 the Cook, my whole new Tranflation of the Pailion of Byblis, for 
 wafte Paper, to be torn or tortur'd to a thoufand fordid Ules. 
 Sir Gilb. Nay then — — 
 
 L.Wr. And I have not another Copy in the World, if it were 
 to lave Mankind from Extirpation. 
 
 Sir Gilb. I'm glad on't with all my Heart ; now could I laugh 
 
 (if I durft) moft immoderately. \_j4fide. 
 
 L.Wr. Now, Miftrefs ! have you brought it ? {Reenter Maid. 
 
 Maid. Madam, the Cook fays, he has skewer d it on to the 
 
 Roaft-Beef, and he can't take it ofl£— he won't burn his Meat 
 
 for nobody ; not he, he fays. 
 
 L. Wr. Here ! call the Footman : He won't ! bid them drag 
 the Rafcal hither by the Ears, or I'll have them nailed down to 
 
 the DrelTer for his Impudence I'll turn the Villain out of my 
 
 Houfe this moment. [Exit Maid. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Come, come, my Lady, don't be in a Heat about, a 
 Trifle j I am gkd to find it's no worfe. 
 
 L.Wr.
 
 422 The Refusal; or, 
 
 L. Wr. Worfe ! had he robb'd the Houfe, and after nYd it, I 
 could fooner have forgiven him, 
 
 Sir Glib. Hah ! thank you for that, Madam ; but I fhould not. 
 
 L. Wr. You ! you fhould not ! What would be your Injury 
 compai'd to mine ? What I'm concern'd for, the whole learneci 
 World, even to Pofterky, may feel the Lofs of. 
 
 Sir Glib. Well \ well ! have a little Patience ; may be, (he may 
 <*et it again. And now you talk of Poftenty, my Lady Wrangle, 
 I have Tome Thoughts of marrying my Daughter Charlotte ; as 
 for Sofhronia, you know 
 
 L. Wr. I know, that one won't, and t'other fhan't marry ; fhe is 
 a pert forward thing, and has difoblig'd me; and therefore I'll 
 
 punilh her as I think fit 1 defire you won't name her to me, 
 
 you fee I have other things in my Head. All greas'd, and burnt 
 to Allies, I fuppofe ! 
 
 Sir CM. I had better talk to her another time, I believe. 
 
 Enter feveral Servants with the Cook. 
 
 L. Wr. O ! are you come at laft, Sir ? Pray, how durft you fend 
 me fuch an impudent Anfwer ? 
 
 Cook. I did not lend an impudent Anfwer, Madam ; I only 
 laid the Meat would be fpoiled : But here (he comes, and makes 
 
 a Noife, and a Rout, and a Clatter about nothing at all and Co 
 
 every impertinent Jade here takes upon her Oons ! a Man 
 
 can't do his Buflnefs in quiet for them. 
 
 L. Wr. Hold your nonfenfical Tongue, Sir, and give me the 
 Paper I lent for. 
 
 Cook. Paper ! This is what fhe gave me. 
 
 [Holds it on a Skewer, allgreafy. 
 
 L. Wr. O my Heavens ! What a Spectacle ! not one Line legi- 
 ble, though an Empire were to purchafe it. Look ! look ! look ! 
 vou Monfter. {Holding him. 
 
 Sir Gilb. So ! here will be rare Doings. 
 
 Cook. Oons ! what a Life's here about a Piece of foul Paper ? 
 
 L. Wr. A Life, you Villain ! your whole Life can't make me 
 
 amends for what you have done I'll have you beat out of 
 
 this Houfe, till every Bone in your Body's broke for this, Sirrah. 
 
 Cook'
 
 The 'Ladles Phi /of op by. 423 
 
 Cook. Beat, Madam ! Blood ! I won't be beat 1 did not 
 
 come here for that I'll be out of your Houfe prefently 
 
 I'll fee who will break my Bones then and lb there's one of 
 
 your Napkins, Madam : as for your Sheet of Paper, there's a 
 
 Halfpenny for it ; and now take your Courfe 1 know how to 
 
 get my Wages, I'll warrant you There's Law for Servants as 
 
 well as other People. [Exit Cook. 
 
 Sir Cilb. Go ! go ! mind your Bufinefs, you filly Tom Ladle 
 you. 
 
 L. Wr. Ay ! this is always the Effect of your Indulgence ; no 
 wonder I have no power over them : if you had the leaf!: Grain of 
 Spirit, you would have broke the Rafcal's Head for me. 
 
 Sir Cilb. Pfhah ! there's no Occafion for it let's fee ! let's 
 
 fee ! —{Takes up the Paper.'] Come, come, this matter may 
 
 be made up without Bloodfhed ftill ay, here ! umh ! umh \ — 
 
 by the way I believe this Beet's enough, it fmells bravely of the 
 Gravy. 
 
 L. Wr. What '■ then I am your Jeft, it feems. 
 
 Sir Gilb. Pooh ! prithee be quiet, I tell you, I am ferious • 
 
 ay ! it's plain to be read ftill. [Reads. 
 
 All a poor Maid could do {the Gods, Tm Jure, 
 Can tell) I've Jujferd to compleat my Cure Cure ! 
 
 Hah, poor Soul ! got the foul Difeafe, I flippofe. 
 
 L. Wr. Your obfeene Comment, Mr- Wrangle, is more pro- 
 voking than the Infolence of your Servants : But I mull: tell you, 
 Sir, I will never eat or fleep in your. Houfe more, if that Rafcal is , 
 not turn'd out of it this moment. 
 
 (SMaid- I hope your Ladyfhip is not in earneft, Madam- 
 
 L- Wr- What ! do you prate, Mrs- Minx ?. 
 
 Maid- Indeed, Madam, if Johns to be turn'd away, I fhan't 
 ftav in the Family : for tho he is fbmetimes a little hafty to a bo- 
 by, yet I have reafon to know he is an honeft-hearted Man in the 
 main ; and I have too much kindnefs for him to ftay in any Ser~ 
 vice, where he is to be abufed.
 
 424 Tlje R E F u s a l ; or, 
 
 L. Wr. What you are in love with him, Mas. Trollop, are you? 
 
 [Cuffs her. 
 
 Maid. Ods my Life ! Madam, I won't be (truck by nobody ; 
 and if I do love him, what's that to anybody ? and I don't know 
 why poor Folks mayn't be in love as well as their Betters, 
 
 Sir Gilb. Come ! come ! hold your Tongue, Huffy. 
 
 Maid. Sir, I can't hold my Tongue } though I can't fay but your 
 Woiftiip's a very kind Matter : But as for my Lady, the Devil 
 would not live with her; and i'o, Madam, I defire you will pro- 
 vide yourielf. [Flings of. 
 
 Sir- Gilb. Odzines, Madam, at this rate I fhall have neither Din- 
 ner to eat, nor Bed to lie on : What Servants will bear this Lite, 
 
 do vou think ? You have no more Temper than a .Why how 
 
 fhould a filly Wench know what your impertinent Poetry was good 
 
 for ? 
 
 L. Wr. Impertinent ! I'd have you know, Mr. Ignorant, there's 
 not a Line in the whole, that has not the true At tick Salt in it- 
 Sir Gilb- Well ! and now there's Englifh Salt in it ; and, I think, 
 the Relifh of one's as good as t'other. 
 
 L. Wr. Mr. Wrangle! if you have no Senfe of the Soul's Diviner 
 Faculties, know I have, and can re fen t thefe vulgar Limits- You 
 fhall find, Sir, that a fuperior Underftanding has a proportion'd 
 Spirit to fupport its Dignity. Let me have inflant Reparation, or, 
 by my injur'd Genius, I'll let your Houfe and Family in a Blaze. 
 
 [Ex- L> 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
 
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