prising, aunt? not at all, for a young couple to make a match in winter! Not at all-It's a plot to undermine cold weather, and destroy that usurper of a bed called a warming-pan. Mrs Fore. I'm glad to hear you have so much fire in you, sir Sampson. Ben. Mess, I fear his fire's little better than tinder; mayhap it will only serve to light a match for somebody else. The young woman's a handsome young woman, I can't deny it: but, father, if I might be your pilot in this case, you should not marry her. It is just the same thing as if so you should sail as far as the Streights without provision. Sir Sam. Who gave you authority to speak, sirrah? To your element, fish; be mute, fish, and to sea. Rule your helm, sirrah; don't di Ben. Well, well, take you care of your own helm; or you mayn't keep your new vessel steady. Ang. But I believe Mr Tattle meant the favour to me; I thank him. Tatt. I did, as I hope to be saved, madam; my intentions were good. But this is the most cruel thing, to marry, one does not know how, nor why, nor wherefore. The devil take me, if ever I was so much concerned at any thing in my life! Ang. 'Tis very unhappy, if you don't care for one another. Tatt. The least in the world- -that is, for my part, I speak for myself. Gad, I never had the least thought of serious kindness--I never liked any body less in my life. Poor woman! Gad, I'm sorry for her, too; for I have no reason to hate her neither; but, I believe I shall lead her a damned sort of a life. Mrs Fore. He's better than no husband at all—though he's a coxcomb. [TO FRAIL. Mrs Frail. [To her.] Ay, ay, it's well it's no worse. Nay, for my part, I always despised Mr Tattle of all things; nothing but his being my husband could have made me like him less. Sir Sam. Why, you impudent tarpawlin! sirrah, do you bring your forecastle jests upon your father? But I shall be even with you; I won't Tatt. Look you there, I thought as much! give you a groat. Mr Buckram, is the convey-Pox on't, I wish we could keep it secret! why, ance so worded, that nothing can possibly des- I don't believe any of this company would speak cend to this scoundrel? I would not so much as have him have the prospect of an estate, though there were no way to come to it, but by the northeast passage. Buck. Sir, it is drawn according to your directions; there is not the least cranny of the law unstopt. Ben. Lawyer, I believe there's many a cranny and leak unstopt in your conscience! If so be that one had a pump to your bosom, I believe we should discover a foul hold. They say, a witch will sail in a sieve-but, I believe the devil would not venture aboard your conscience. And that's for you. Sir Sam. Hold your tongue, sirrah. How now? who's here? Enter TATTLE, and MRS FRAIL. of it. Ben. If you suspect me, friend, I'll go out of the room.'" Mrs Frail. But, my dear, that's impossible; the parson and that rogue Jeremy will publish it. Tatt. Ay, my dear, so they will, as you say. Ang. O, you'll agree very well in a little time; custom will make it easy for you. Tatt. Easy! Pox on't, I don't believe I shall sleep to-night. Sir Sum. Sleep, quotha! No; why, you would not sleep on your wedding-night? I'm an older fellow than you, and don't mean to sleep. Ben. Why, there's another match, now, as thof a couple of privateers were looking for a prize, and should fall foul of one another. I'm sorry for the young man with all my heart. Look you, friend, if I may advise you, when she's going Mrs Frail. O, sister, the most unlucky acci- for that you must expect, I have experience dent! her-when she's going, let her go. For no matrimony is tough enough to hold her; and if she can't drag her anchor along with her, she'll break her cable, I can tell you that. Who's here? the Mrs Fore. What's the matter? Tatt. O, the two most unfortunate poor creatures in the world we are! Fore. Bles us! how so? Mrs Frail. Ah! Mr Tattle and I, poor Mr Tattle and I are-I can't speak it out. are Tatt. Nor I-But poor Mrs Frail and I Mrs Frail. Married. Fore. Married! How? Tatt. Suddenly before we knew where we were-that villain Jeremy, by the help of disguises, tricked us into one another. Fore. Why, you told me just now, you went hence in haste to be married! madman? of Fore. How? not mad! Mr Scandal? Scand. No, really, sir; I'm his witness, it was all counterfeit. Val. I thought I had reasons-but it was a poor contrivance: the effect has shewn it such. Sir Sam. Contrivance! what, to cheat me? to cheat your father! Sirrah, could you hope to prosper? Vul. Indeed, I thought, sir, when the father endeavoured to undo the son, it was a reasonable return of nature. Sir Sam. Very good, sir. Mr Buckram, are you ready? Come, sir, will you sign and seal? Val. If you please, sir; but, first, I would ask this lady one question. Sir Sam. Sir, you must ask me leave firstThat lady! No, sir; you shall ask that lady no questions, till you have asked her blessing, sir; that lady is to be my wife. Val. I have heard as much, sir; but I would have it from her own mouth. Sir Sam. That's as much as to say I lie, sir, and you don't believe what I say? Val. Pardon me, sir. But I reflect that I very lately counterfeited madness: I don't know but the frolic may go round. Sir Sam. Come, chuck, satisfy him, answer him.- -Come, Mr Buckram, the pen and ink. Buck. Here it is, sir, with the deed; all is ready. [VAL. goes to ANG. Ang. 'Tis true, you have a great while pretended love to me; nay, what if you were sincere? Still you must pardon me, if I think my own inclinations have a better right to dispose of my person, than yours. Sir Sam. Are you answered now, sir? Sir Sam. Where's your plot, sir? and your contrivance now, sir? Will you sign, sir? Come, will you sign and seal? Val. With all my heart, sir. Scand. 'Sdeath, you are not mad, indeed? to ruin yourself? Val. I have been disappointed of my only hope; and he that loses hope may part with any thing. I never valued fortune, but as it was subservient to my pleasure; and my only pleasure was to please this lady: I have made many vain attempts; and find, at last, that nothing but my ruin can effect it; which, for that reason, I will sign to. Give me the paper. Ang. Generous Valentine! [Aside. Val. But where is the bond, by which I am obliged to sign this? Buck. Sir Sampson, you have it. Ang. No, I have it; and I'll use it, as I would every thing that is an enemy to Valentine. [Tears the paper. Sir Sam. How now? Val. Ha! Ang. Had I the world to give you, it could VOL. II. not make me worthy of so generous and faithful a passion. Here's my hand; my heart was always yours, and struggled very hard to make this utmost trial of your virtue. [TO VALENTINE, Val. Between pleasure and amazement, I am lost-but, on my knees, I take the blessing. Sir Sam. Oons, what is the meaning of this? Ben. Mass, here's the wind changed againFather, you and I may make a voyage together, now! Ang. Well, sir Samson, since I have played you a trick, I'll advise you how you may avoid such another. Learn to be a good father, or you'll never get a second wife. I always loved your son, and hated your unforgiving nature. I was resolved to try him to the utmost; I have tried you, too, and know you both. You have not more faults than he has virtues; and it is hardly more pleasure to me, that I can make him and myself happy, than that I can punish you. Sir Sam. Oons, you are a crocodile. Fore. Really, sir Sampson, this is a sudden eclipse. Sir Sam. You're an illiterate old fool; 'and I'm another. Tatt. If the gentleman is in disorder for want of a wife, I can spare him mine. Oh, are you there, sir? I am indebted to you for my happi[To JEREMY. ness. Jer. Sir, I ask you ten thousand pardons: it was an arrant mistake. You see, sir, my master was never mad, nor any thing like it. Then, how can it be otherwise? Val. Tattle, I thank you; you would have interposed between me and Heaven; but Providence laid purgatory in your way. You have but justice. Scand. I hear the fiddles that sir Sampson provided for his own wedding; methinks it is pity they should not be employed when the match is so much mended. Valentine, though it be morning, we may have a dance. Val. Any thing, my friend; every thing that looks like joy and transport. Scand. Call them, Jeremy. Ang. I have done dissembling now, Valentine; and if that coldness, which I have always worn before you, should turn to an extreme fondness, you must not suspect it. Val. I'll prevent that suspicion-for I intend to doat to that immoderate degree, that your fondness shall never distinguish itself enough to be taken notice of. If ever you seem to love too much, it must be only when I cannot love enough. Ang. Have a care of promises: you know you are apt to run more in debt than you are able have done exemplary justice, in punishing an inhuman father, and rewarding a faithful lover :but there is a third good work, which I, in particular, must thank you for: I was an infidel to your sex, and you have converted me-for now I am convinced, that all women are not, like fortune, blind in bestowing favours, either on those who do not merit, or who do not want them. Ang. It is an unreasonable accusation, that you lay upon our sex. You tax us with injustice, only to cover your own want of merit. You would all have the reward of love; but few have SIR HARRY WILDAIR, a gay man of fashion. DICKY, a pimp. WOMEN. VIZARD, a hypocrite, pretending to Lady Lure- LADY LUREWELL, an artful coquette. well. Enter VIZARD with a letter, his servant follow ing. letter, like yourself, fair on the outside, and foul within; so sent it back unopened. Viz. May obstinacy guard her beauty till wrinkles bury it! then, may desire prevail to make Viz. ANGELICA send it back unopened! say her curse that untimely pride her disappointed you? Ser. As you see, sir. Viz. The pride of these virtuous women is more insufferable than the immodesty of prostitutes-After all my encouragement, to slight me thus! Ser. She said, sir, that imagining your morals sincere, she gave you access to her conversation; but that your late behaviour in her company has convinced her that your love and your religion are both hypocrisy, and that she believes your age repents! I'll be revenged the very first opportunity- -Saw you the old lady Darling, her mother? Ser. Yes, sir, and she was pleased to say much in your commendation. Viz. That's my cue― -An esteem grafted in old age is hardly rooted out; years stiffen their opinions with their bodies, and old zeal is only to be cozened by young hypocrisy. [Aside.] Run to the lady Lurewell's, and know of her maid whether her ladyship will be at home this even ing. Her beauty is sufficient cure for Angeli- | There are five and thirty strapping officers gone this morning to live upon free quarters in the city. ca's scorn. [Exit servant. VIZARD pulls out a book, reads, and walks about.] Enter SMUGGler. Smug. Ay, there's a pattern for the young men o' the times! at his meditation so early! some book of pious ejaculations, I'm sure. Viz. This Hobbes is an excellent fellow![Aside.] Oh, uncle Smuggler! To find you at this end o' the town is a miracle. Smug. I have seen a miracle this morning, indeed, cousin Vizard. Viz. What is it, pray, sir? Smug. A man at his devotion so near the court- I'm very glad, boy, that you keep your sanctity untainted in this infectious place; the very air of this park is heathenish, and every man's breath I meet scents of atheism. Viz. Surely, sir, some great concern must bring you to this unsanctified end of the town. Smug. A very unsanctified concern truly, cousin. Viz. What is it? Smug. A law-suit, boy--Shall I tell you? -My ship, the Swan, is newly arrived from St Sebastian, laden with Portugal wines: now, the impudent rogue of a tide-waiter has the face to affirm it is French wines in Spanish casks, and has indicted me upon the statute-Oh, conscience! conscience! these tide-waiters and surveyors plague us more with their French wines, than the war did with French privateersAy, there's another plague of the nationEnter COLONEL STANDARD. Stand. This very morning, in Hyde-Park, my brave regiment, a thousand men, that looked like lions yesterday, were scattered, and looked as poor and simple as the herd of deer that grazed beside them. Smug. Tal, al, deral. [Singing.]I'll have a bonfire this night as high as the monument. Smug. Oh, lord! Oh, lord! I shall have a son within these nine months born with a leading staff in his hand.- -Sir, you are Stand. What, sir? Smug. Sir, I say that you are Stand. What, sir? Smug. Disbanded, sir, that's all- -I see the lawyer yonder. [Exit. Viz. Sir, I'm very sorry for your misfortune. Stand. Why so? I don't come to borrow money of you. If you're my friend, meet me this evening at the Rummer; I'll pay my foy, dring a health to my king, prosperity to my coun try, and away for Hungary to-morrow morning. Viz. What! you won't leave us? Stand. What! a soldier stay here, to look like an old pair of colours in Westminster Hall, ragged and rusty! No, no- -I met yesterday a broken lieutenant; he was ashamed to own that he wanted a dinner, but begged eighteenpence of me to buy a new scabbard for his sword. Viz. Oh, but you have good friends, colonel! Stand. Oh, very good friends! My father's a lord, and my elder brother a beau; mighty good friends, indeed! Viz. But your country may perhaps want your sword again. Stand. Nay, for that matter, let but a single drum beat up for volunteers between Ludgate and Charing-Cross, and I shall undoubtedly hear it at the walls of Buda. Viz. Come, come, colonel, there are ways of making your fortune at home-Make your addresses to the fair; you're a man of honour and courage. Stand. Ay, my courage is like to do me wondrous service with the fair. This pretty cross cut over my eye will attract a duchess---I warrant 'twill be a mighty grace to my oglingHad I used the stratagem of a certain brother colonel of mine, I might succeed. Viz. What was it, pray? Stand. Why, to save his pretty face for the women, he always turned his back upon the enemy.- -He was a man of honour for the ladies. Viz. Come, come, the loves of Mars and Venus will never fail; you must get a mistress. Stand. Prithee, no more on't-You have awa Stand. A bonfire! Thou dry, withered, illnature! had not those brave fellows' swords de-kened a thought, from which, and the kingdom, I fended you, your house had been a bonfire ere would have stolen away at once.-To be plain, I this about your ears.—Did we not venture our have a mistress. lives, sir? Smug. And did we not pay for your lives, sir? Venture your lives! I'm sure we ventured our money, and that's life and soul to me.--Sir, we'll maintain you no longer. Stand. Then your wives shall, old Actæon. Viz. And she's cruel? Viz. Her parents prevent your happiness? Viz. Then she has no fortune? Stand. A large one. Beauty to tempt all man |