[1] THE BUSIE BODY.

HA, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha; Oh, I ſhall die with Laughing.—The moſt Romantick Adventure: Ha, ha! What does the odious young Fop mean? A Hundred Pieces to talk an Hour with me; Ha, ha.

And I am to be by too; there's the Jeſt: Adod, if it had been in Private, I ſhou'd not have car'd to truſt the young dog.

Indeed and Indeed, but you might Gardy—Now methinks there's no Body Handſomer than you: So Neat, ſo Clean, ſo Good-Humour'd, and ſo Loving.—

Pritty Rogue, Pritty Rogue, and ſo thou ſhalt find me, if thou do'ſt prefer thy Gardy before theſe Caperers of the Age, thou ſhalt out-ſhine the Queen's Box on an Opera Night; thou ſhalt be the Envy of the Ring (for I will carry thee to Hide-Park) and thy Equipage ſhall Surpaſs, the what—d'ye call 'em Ambaſſadors.

Nay, I'm ſure the Diſcreet Part of my Sex will Envy me more for the Inſide Furniture, when you are in it, than my Outſide Equipage.

A Cunning Baggage, a faith thou art, and a wiſe one too; and to ſhew thee thou haſt not choſe amiſs, I'll this moment diſinherit my Son, and Settle my whole Eſtate up⯑on thee.

There's and old Rogue now:

No, Gardy, I would not have your Name be ſo Black in the World—You know my Father's Will runs, that I am not to poſſeſs my Eſtate, without your Conſent, till I'm Five and Twenty; you ſhall only abate the odd Seven Years, and make me Mi⯑ſtreſs of my Eſtate to Day, and I'll make you Maſter of my Perſon to Morrow.

Humph? that may not be ſafe—No, Chargy, I'll Settle it upon thee for Pin-money; and that will be every bit as well, thou know'ſt.

Unconſcionable old Wretch, Bribe me with my own Money—Which way ſhall I get out of his Hands?

Well what art thou thinking on, my Girl, ha? How to banter Sir George?

I muſt not pretend to banter: He knows my Tongue too well:

No, Gardy, I have thought of a way will confound him more than all I cou'd ſay, if I ſhou'd talk to him Seven Years.

How's that? Oh! I'm Tranſported, I'm Raviſh'd, I'm Mad—

It wou'd make you Mad, if you knew all,

I'll not anſwer him one Word, but be Dumb to all he ſays—

Dumb, good; Ha, ha, ha. Excellent, ha, ha, I think I have you now, Sir George, Dumb! he'll go Di⯑ſtracted—Well, ſhe's the wittieſt Rogue—Ha, ha, Dumb! I can but laugh, ha, ha, to think how damn'd Mad he'll be when he finds he has given his Money away for a Dumb Show. Ha, ha, ha.

Nay, Gardy, if he did but know my Thoughts of him, it wou'd make him ten times Madder: Ha, ha, ha.

Ay, ſo it wou'd Chargy, to hold him in ſuch Deriſion, to ſcorn to anſwer him, to be Dumb: Ha, ha, ha, ha.

How now, Sirrah, Who let you in?

My Neceſſity, Sir.

Sir, your Neceſſities are very Impertinent, and ought to have ſent before they Entred.

Sir, I knew 'twas a Word wou'd gain Admittance no where.

Then, Sirrah, how durſt you Rudely thruſt that upon your Father, which no Body elſe wou'd admit?

Sure the Name of a Son is a ſufficient Plea. I aſk this Lady's Pardon if I have intruded.

Ay, Ay, aſk her Pardon and her Bleſſing too, if you expect any thing from me.

I believe yours, Sir Francis, in a Purſe of Guinea's wou'd be more material. Your Son may have Buſineſs with you, I'll retire.

I gueſs his Buſineſs, but I'll diſpatch him; I ex⯑pect the Knight every Minute: You'll be in Readineſs.

Certainly! my Expectation is more upon the Wing than yours, old Gentleman.

Well, Sir!

Nay, it is very Ill, Sir; my Circumſtances are, I'm ſure.

And what's that to me, Sir: Your Management ſhou'd have made them better.

If you pleaſe to intruſt me with the Management of my Eſtate, I ſhall endeavour it, Sir.

What to ſet upon a Card, and buy a Lady's Fa⯑vour at the Price of a Thouſand Pieces, to rig out an Equi⯑page for a Wench, or by your careleſſneſs enrich your Stew⯑ard to fine for Sheriff, or put up for Parliament-Man.

I hope I ſhou'd not ſpend it this way: However, I aſk only for what my Uncle left me; Your's you may diſ⯑poſe of as you pleaſe, Sir.

That I ſhall, out of your Reach, I aſſure you, Sir. Adod theſe young Fellows think old Men get Eſtates for no⯑thing but them to ſquander away, in Dicing, Wenching, Drinking, Dreſſing, and ſo forth.

I think I was born a Gentleman, Sir; I'm ſure my Uncle bred me like one.

From which you wou'd infer, Sir, that Gaming, Whoring, and the Pox, are requiſits to a Gentleman.

Monſtrous! when I wou'd ask him only for a Sup⯑port, he falls into theſe unmannerly Reproaches; I muſt, tho' againſt my Will, employ Invention, and by Stratagem relieve my ſelf

Sirrah, what is it you mutter, Sirrah, ha?

I ſay, you ſhan't have a Groat out of my Hands till I pleaſe—and may be I'll never Pleaſe, and what's that to you?

Nay, to be Robb'd, or have one's Throat Cut is not much—

What's that, Sirrah? wou'd ye Rob me, or Cut my Throat, ye Rogue?

Heaven forbid, Sir,—I ſaid no ſuch thing.

Mercy on me! What a Plague it is to have a Son of One and Twenty, who wants to Elbow one out of one's Life, to Edge himſelf into the Eſtate.

Egad he's here—I was afraid I had loſt him: His Secret cou'd not be with his Father, his Wants are Publick there—Guardian,—your Servant Charles, I know by that ſorrowful Countenance of thine. The old Man's Fiſt is as cloſe as his ſtrong Box—But I'll help thee—

So: Here's another extravagant Coxcomb, that will ſpend his Fortune before he comes to't; but he ſhall pay ſwinging Intereſt, and ſo let the Fool go on—Well, what do's Neceſſity bring you too, Sir?

You have hit it, Guardian—I want a Hundred Pound.

For what?

Po'gh, for a Hundred Things. I can't for my Life tell you for what.

Sir, I ſuppoſe I have received all the Anſwer I am like to have.

Oh, the Devil, if he gets out before me, I ſhall loſe him agen.

Ay, Sir, and you may be marching as ſoon as you pleaſe—I muſt ſee a Change in your Temper e'er you find one in mine.

Pray, Sir, diſpatch me; the Money, Sir, I'm in mighty haſte.

Fool, take this and go to the Caſhier; I ſhan't be long plagu'd with thee.

Devil take the Caſhier, I ſhall certainly have Charles gone before I come back agen.

Well, Sir, I take my Leave—But remember, you expoſe an only Son to all the Miſeries of wretched Po⯑verty, which too often lays the Plan for Scenes of Miſ⯑chief.

Stay Charles, I have a ſudden Thought come in⯑to my Head, may prove to thy Advantage.

Ha, does he Relent?

My Lady Wrinkle, worth Forty Thouſand Pound, ſets up for a Handſome young Huſband; ſhe prais'd thee t'other Day; tho' the Match-makers can get Twenty Guinea's for a ſight of her, I can introduce thee for nothing.

My Lady Wrinkle, Sir, why ſhe has but one Eye.

Then ſhe'll ſee but half your Extravagance, Sir.

Condemn me to ſuch a piece of Deformity! Tooth⯑leſs, Dirty, Wry-neck'd, Hunch-back'd Hag.

Hunch-back'd! ſo much the better, then ſhe has a Reſt for her Misfortunes; for thou wilt Load her ſwing⯑ingly. Now I warrant you think, this is no Offer of a Fa⯑ther; Forty Thouſand Pound is nothing with you.

Yes, Sir, I think it is too much; a young Beautiful Woman with half the Money wou'd be more agreeable. I thank you, Sir, but you choſe better for your ſelf, I find.

Out of my Doors, you Dog; you pretend to med⯑dle with my Marriage, Sirrah!

Sir, I obey: But—

But me no Buts—Be gone, Sir: Dare to aſk me for Money agen—Refuſe Forty Thouſand Pound! Out of my Doors, I ſay, without Reply.

One Sir George Airy enquires for you, Sir.

Ha? gone! Is Charles gone, Guardian?

Yes; and I deſire your wiſe Worſhip to walk af⯑ter him.

Nay, Egad, I ſhall Run, I tell you but that. Ah, Pox of the Caſhier for detaining me ſo long, where the De⯑vil ſhall I find him now. I ſhall certainly loſe this Se⯑cret.

What is the Fellow diſtracted?—Deſire Sir George to walk up—Now for a Trial of Skill that will make me Happy, and him a Fool: Ha, ha, ha, in my Mind he looks like an Aſs already,

Well, Sir George, Dee ye hold in the ſame Mind? or wou'd you Capitulate? Ha, ha, ha: Look here are the Guinea's,

Ha, ha, ha.

Not if they were twice the Sum, Sir Francis: Therefore be brief, call in the Lady, and take your Poſt—if ſhe's a Woman, and not ſeduc'd by Witchcraft to this old Rogue, I'll make his Heart ake; for if ſhe has but one Grain of Inclination about her, I'll vary a Thouſand Shapes, but find it.

Agreed—Miranda. There Sir George, try your Fortune,

So from the Eaſtern Chambers breaks the Sun, Diſpels the Clouds, and gilds the Vales below.

Hold, Sir, Kiſſing was not in our Agreement.

Oh! That's by way of Prologue:—Prithee, Old Mammon, to thy Poſt.

Well, young Timon, 'tis now Four exactly; one Hour, remember, is your utmoſt Limit, not a Minute more.

Madam, whether you'll Excuſe or Blame my Love the Author of this raſh Proceeding depends upon your Pleaſure, as alſo the Life of your Admirer; your [20] ſparkling Eyes ſpeak a Heart ſuſceptible of Love; your Vi⯑vacity a Soul too delicate to admit the Embraces of decay'd Mortality.

Oh, that I durſt ſpeak—

Shake off this Tyrant Guardian's Yoke, aſſume your ſelf, and daſh his bold aſpiring Hopes; the Deity of his Deſires, is Avarice; a Heretick in Love, and ought to be ba⯑naniſh'd by the Queen of Beauty. See, Madam, a faithful Servant kneels, and begs to be admitted in the Number of your Slaves.

I wiſh I cou'd hear what he ſays now.

Hold, hold, hold, no Palming, that's contrary to Arti⯑cles—

Death, Sir, Keep your Diſtance, or I'll write ano⯑ther Article in your Guts.

A Bloody-minded Fellow!—

Not anſwer me! Perhaps ſhe thinks my Addreſs too grave: I'll be more free—Can you be ſo unconſciona⯑ble, Madam, to let me ſay all theſe fine things to you with⯑out one ſingle Compliment in Return? View me well, am I not a proper Handſome Fellow, ha? Can you prefer that old, dry, wither'd, ſapleſs Log of Sixty-five, to the vigorous, gay, ſprightly Love of Twenty-four? With ſnoring only he'll awake thee, but I with raviſhing Delight wou'd make thy Sen⯑ſes dance in Conſort with the joyful Minutes—ha? Not yet? Sure ſhe is dumb—Thus woul'd I ſteal and touch thy Beauteous Hand,

till by degrees I reach'd thy ſnowy Breaſts, then raviſh Kiſſes thus,

O Heavens! I ſhall not be able to contain my ſelf.

Sure ſhe did not ſpeak to him—There's Three Quarters of the Hour gone, Sir George—Adod, I don't like thoſe cloſe Conferences—

More Interruptions—You will have it, Sir,

No, no, you ſhan't have her nei⯑ther.

Dumb ſtill—Sure this old Dog has enjoin'd her ſilence; I'll try another way—I muſt conclude, Ma⯑dam, that in Compliance to your Guardian's Humour, you refuſe to anſwer me—Conſider the Injuſtice of his In⯑junction. This ſingle Hour coſt me a hundred Pound—and wou'd you anſwer me, I could purchaſe the 24 ſo: How⯑ever, Madam, you muſt give me leave to make the beſt Inter⯑pretation I can for my Money, and take the Indication of your ſilence for the ſecret Liking of my Perſon: Therefore, Ma⯑dam, I will inſtruct you how to keep your Word inviolate to Sir Francis, and yet anſwer me to every Queſtion: As for Example, When I ask any thing to which you would reply in the Affirmative, gently Nod your Head—thus; and when in the Negative, thus;

and in the doubtful, a tender Sigh, thus,

How every Action charms me—but I'll fit him for Signs I warrant him.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, poor Sir George, Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Was it by his deſire that you are dumb, Madam, to all that I can ſay?

Very well! ſhe's tractable I find—And is it poſſible that you can love him? Miraculous!

Pardon the bluntneſs of my Queſtions, for my Time is ſhort; may I not hope to ſupplant him in your Eſteem?

Good; ſhe anſwers me as I could wiſh—You'll not conſent to marry him then?

How, doubtful in that—Undone again—Humph! but that may proceed from his Power to keep her out of her Eſtate till Twenty-five; I'll try that—Come, Madam, I can⯑not think you heſitate on this Affair out of any Motive but your Fortune—Let him keep it till thoſe few Years are expir'd; make me happy with your Perſon, let him enjoy your Wealth—

Why, [22] what Sign is that now? Nay, nay, Madam, except you ob⯑ſerve my Leſſon, I can't underſtand your meaning—

What a Vengeance, are they talking by Signs, 'ad I may be fool'd here; what do you mean Sir George?

To cut your Throat if you dare Mutter another Syllable.

Od! I wiſh he were fairly out of my Houſe.

Pray, Madam will you anſwer me to the Purpoſe?

What! does ſhe mean ſhe won't anſwer me to the Purpoſe, or is ſhe afraid yon' old Cuff ſhou'd underſtand her Signs?—Aye, it muſt be that, I perceive Madam, you are too appre⯑henſive of the Promiſe you have made to follow my Rules; therefore I'll ſuppoſe your Mind and anſwer for you—Firſt, for my ſelf, Madam, that I am in Love with you is an infallible Truth. Now for you:

In⯑deed, Sir, and may I believe it—As certainly, Madam, as that 'tis Day-light, or that I Die if you perſiſt in Silence—Bleſs me with the Muſick of your Voice, and raiſe my Spirits to their proper Heaven: Thus low let me intreat; e'er I'm oblig'd to quit this Place, grant me ſome Token of a favourable Reception to keep my Hopes alive.

Riſe, Sir, and ſince my Guardian's Pre⯑ſence will not allow me Privilege of Tongue, Read that and reſt aſſured you are not indifferent to me.

Ha! right Woman! But no

matter, I'll go on.

Ha! what's that a Letter—Ha, ha, ha, thou art baulk'd.

The beſt Aſſurance I ever ſaw—

Ha? a Letter, Oh! let me Kiſs it with the ſame Raptures that I would do the dear Hand that touch'd it.

Now for a quick Fancy, and a long Extempore—What's here?

"Dear, Sir George, this Virgin Muſe I conſecrte to you, which when it has re⯑ceived the Addition of your Voice, 'twill charm me into Deſire of Liberty to Love, which you, and only you can[23] "fix. My Angel! Oh you tranſport me!

And ſee the Power of your Command; the God of Love has ſet the Verſe already; the flowing Numbers Dance into a Tune, and I'm inſpir'd with a Voice to ſing it.

I'm ſure thou art inſpir'd with Impudence enough.

With all my Heart, this Moment let's Retire.

The Hour is expir'd, Sir, and you muſt take your leave. There, my Girl, there's the Hundred Pounds, which thou haſt won, go, I'll be with you preſently, Ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ads Heart, Madam, you won't leave me juſt in the Nick, will you?

Ha, ha, ha, ſhe has nick'd you, Sir George, I think, Ha, ha, ha: Have ye any more Hundred Pounds to throw away upon Courtſhip, Ha, ha, ha,

He, he, he, he, a Curſe of your fleering Jeſts—Yet, however ill I ſucceeded, I'll venture the ſame Wager, ſhe does not value thee a ſpoonful of Snuff—Nay more, though you enjoin'd her Silence to me, you'll never make her ſpeak to the Purpoſe with your ſelf.

Ha, ha, ha, did not I tell thee thou would'ſt re⯑pent thy Money? Did not I ſay ſhe hated young Fellows, Ha, ha, ha.

And I'm poſitive ſhe's not in Love with Age.

Ha, ha, no matter for that, Ha, ha, ſhe's not taken with your Youth, nor your Rhetorick to boot, ha, ha.

Whate'er her Reaſons are for diſliking of me, I am certain ſhe can be taken with nothing about thee.

Ha, ha, ha; how he ſwells with Envy!—Poor Man, poor Man—Ha, ha; I muſt beg your Pardon, Sir George; Miranda will be impatient to have her ſhare of Mirth: Verily we ſhall laugh at thee moſt egregiouſly; Ha, ha, ha.

With all my Heart, faith—I ſhall laugh in my turn too—For if you dare marry her, old Belzebub, you would be Cuckolded moſt egregiouſly; Remember that, and Tremble—

Ha, ha, ha; he is mad.

SCENE Changes to Sir Jealous Traffick's Houſe.

What in the Balcone agen, notwithſtanding my poſitive Commands to the contrary!—Why don't you write a Bill upon your Fore-head, to ſhow Paſſengers there's ſome⯑thing to be let—

What harm can there be in a little freſh Air, Sir?

Is your Conſtitution ſo hot, Miſtreſs, that it wants Cooling, ha? Apply the virtuous Spaniſh Rules, baniſh your Taſte, and Thoughts of Fleſh, feed upon Roots, and quench your Thriſt with Water.

That and a cloſe Room wou'd certainly make me die of the Vapours.

No, Miſtreſs, 'tis your High-fed, Luſty, Rambling, Rampant Ladies—that are troubled with the Vapours; 'tis your Ratifia, Perſico, Cinnamon, Citron, and Spirit of Clary, cauſe ſuch Swi—m—ing in the Brain, that carries many a Guinea full-tide to the Doctor. But you are not to be bred this way; no Galloping abroad, no receiving Viſits at home; for in our looſe Country, the Women are as dangerous as the Men.

So I told her, Sir; and that it was not Decent to be ſeen in a Balcone—But ſhe threatned to ſlap my Chaps, and told me, I was her Servant, not her Governeſs.

Did ſhe ſo? But I'll make her to know, that you are her Duenna: Oh that incomparable Cuſtom of Spain! why here's no depending upon old Women in my Country—for they are as wanton at Eighty, as a Girl of Eighteen; and a Man may as ſafely truſt to Aſgill's Tranſlation, as to his great Grand-Mother's not marrying agen.

Or to the Spaniſh Ladies Veils and Duennas, for the Safeguard of their Honour.

Dare to ridicule the cautious Conduct of that wiſe Nation, and I'll have you lock'd up this Fortnight without a Peep-hole.

If we had but the Ghoſtly Helps in England, which they have in Spain, I might deceive you if you did.—Sir, 'tis not the Reſtraint, but the Innate Principles, ſecures the Reputation and Honour of our Sex—Let me tell you, Sir, Confinement ſharpens the Invention, as want of Sight ſtrengthens the other Senſes, and is often more pernicious, than the Recreation innocent Liberty allows.

Say you ſo, Miſtreſs; who the Devil taught you the Art of Reaſoning? I aſſure you, they muſt have a greater Faith than I pretend to, that can think any Woman innocent who requires Liberty. Therefore, Patch, to your Charge I give her; Lock her up till I come back from Change: I ſhall have ſome ſauntring Coxcomb, with nothing but a Red Coat and a Feather, think, by Leaping into her Arms, to Leap into my Eſtate—But I'll prevent them; ſhe ſhall be only Signeur Babinetto's.

Really, Sir, I wiſh you wou'd employ any Body elſe in this Affair; I lead a Life like a Dog with obeying your Commands. Come, Madam, will you pleaſe to be Lock'd up.

Ay, to enjoy more Freedom than he is aware of.

I believe this Wench is very true to my Intereſt: I am happy I met with her, if I can but keep my Daughter from being blown upon till Signeur Babinetto arrives; who ſhall marry her as ſoon as he comes, and carry her to Spain as ſoon as he has married her; ſhe has a pregnant Wit, and I'd no more have her an Engliſh Wife, than the Grand Sig⯑nior's Miſtreſs.

So, I ſee Sir Jealous go out; where ſhall I find Mrs. Patch now.

Oh Mr. Whiſper, my Lady ſaw you out at the Win⯑dow, and order'd me to bid you fly, and let your Maſter know ſhe's now alone.

Huſh, ſpeak ſoftly; I go, I go: But hark'e Mrs. Patch, ſhall not you and I have a little Confabulation, when my Maſter and your Lady is engag'd?

Ay, ay, Farewel.

Sure whilſt I was talking with Mr. Tradewel, I heard my Door clap.

Ha! a Man lurking about my Houſe; who do you want there, Sir?

Want—want, a pox, Sir Jealous! what muſt I ſay now?—

Ay, want; have you a Letter or Meſſage for any Body there?—O my Conſcience, this is ſome He-Bawd—

Letter or Meſſage, Sir!

Ay, Letter or Meſſage, Sir.

No, not I, Sir.

Sirrah, Sirrah, I'll have you ſet in the Stocks, if you do'nt tell me your Buſineſs immediately.

Nay, Sir, my Buſineſs—is no great matter of Bu⯑ſineſs neither; and yet 'tis Buſineſs of Conſequence too.

Sirrah, don't trifle with me.

Trifle, Sir, have you found him, Sir?

Found what, you Raſcal.

Why Trifle is the very Lap-Dog my Lady loſt, Sir; I fancy'd I ſee him run into this Houſe. I'm glad you have him—Sir, my Lady will be overjoy'd that I have found him.

Who is your Lady Friend?

My Lady Love-puppy, Sir.

My Lady Love-puppy! then prithee carry thy ſelf to her, for I know no other Whelp that belongs to her; and let me catch ye no more Puppy-hunting about my Doors, leſt I have you preſt into the Service, Sirrah.

By no means, Sir—Your humble Servant; I muſt watch whether he goes, or no, before I can tell my Ma⯑ſter.

This Fellow has the Officious Leer of a Pimp; and I half ſuſpect a Deſign, but I'll be upon them before they think on me, I warrant 'em

SCENE Charles's Lodging.

Honeſt Marplot, I thank thee for this Supply; I ex⯑pect my Lawyer with a Thouſand Pound I have order'd him to take up, and then you ſhall be repaid.

Pho, pho, no more of that: Here comes Sir George Airy—

Curſedly out of Humour at his Diſappointment; ſee how he looks! Ha, ha, ha.

Ah, Charles, I am ſo humbled in my Pretenſions to Plots upon Women, that I believe I ſhall never have Cou⯑rage enough to attempt a Chamber-maid agen.—I'll tell thee.

Ha ha; I'll ſpare you the Relation by telling you—Impatient to know your Buſineſs with my Father, when I ſaw you Enter, I ſlipt back into the next Room, where I over⯑heard every Syllable.

That I ſaid—But I'll be hang'd if you heard her Anſwer—But prithee tell me, Charles, is ſhe a Fool?

I ne'er ſuſpected her for one; but Marplot can in⯑form you better, if you'll allow him a Judge.

A Fool! I'll juſtifie ſhe has more Wit than all the reſt of her Sex put together; why ſhe'll Rally me, till I han't one word to ſay for my ſelf.

A mighty Proof of her Wit truly—

There muſt be ſome Trick in't, Sir George, Egad I'll find it out if it coſt me the Sum you paid for't.

Do and Command me—

Enough, let me alone to Trace a Secret.—

The Devil! Whiſper here agen, that Fellow never ſpeaks out; is this the ſame, or a new Secret? Sir George, won't you aſk Charles what News Whiſper brings?

Not I, Sir; I ſuppoſe it does not relate to me.

Lord, Lord, how little Curioſity ſome People have! Now my chief Pleaſure lies in knowing every Body's Buſi⯑neſs.

I fancy, Charles, thou haſt ſome Engagement up⯑on thy Hands: I have a little Buſineſs too. Marplot, if it falls in your way to bring me any Intelligence from Miranda, you'll find me at the Thatch'd Houſe at Six—

You do me much Honour.

You gueſs right, Sir George, wiſh me Succeſs.

Better than attended me. Adieu.

Marplot, you muſt Excuſe me—

Nay, nay, what need of any Excuſe amongſt Friends! I'll go with you.

Indeed you muſt not.

No, then I ſuppoſe 'tis a Duel, and I will go to ſe⯑cure ye.

Secure me? Why you won't fight?

What then! I can call People to part ye.

Well but it is no Duel, conſequently no Danger. Therefore prithee be anſwer'd.

What is't a Miſtreſs then?—Mum—You know I can be ſilent upon occaſion.

I wiſh you could be civil too: I tell you, You nei⯑ther muſt nor ſhall go with me. Farewel.

Why then—I muſt and will follow you.

WELL, here's the Houſe, which holds the lovely Prize quiet and ſerene; here no noiſy Footmen throng to tell the World, that Beauty dwells within; no Ce⯑remonious Viſit makes the Lover wait; no Rival to give my Heart a Pang; who would not ſcale the Window at Midnight without fear of the jealous Father's Piſtol, rather than fill up the Train of a Coquet, where every Minute he is joſtled out of Place.

Mrs. Patch. Mrs. Patch.

Oh, are you come, Sir? All's ſafe.

So in, in then.

There he goes: Who the Devil lives here? Except I can find out that, I am as far from knowing his Buſineſs as ever; gad I'll watch, it may be a Bawdy-Houſe, and he may have his Throat cut, if there ſhou'd be any Miſchief, I can make Oath he went in. Well, Charles, in ſpight of your Endeavour to keep me out of the Secret, I may ſave your Life for ought I know: At that Corner I'll plant my ſelf, there I ſhall ſee whoever goes in, or comes out. Gad, I love Diſcoveries.

Patch. look out ſharp; have a care of Dad.

I warrant you.

Well, Sir, if I may judge your Love by your Courage, I ought to believe you ſincere; for you venture into the Lions Den when you come to ſee me.

If you'd conſent whilſt the furious Beaſt is abroad, I'd free you from the Reach of his Paws.

That would be but to avoid one Danger by running into another; like the poor Wretches who fly the Burning Ship, and meet their Fate in the Water. Come, come, Charles, I fear if I conſult my Reaſon, Confinement and Plenty is bet⯑ter than Liberty and ſtarving. I know you'd make the Fro⯑lick pleaſing for a little time, by ſaying and doing a World of tender things; but when our ſmall Subſtance is once ex⯑hauſted, and a Thouſand Requiſits for Life are wanting, Love, who rarely dwells with Poverty, wou'd alſo fail us.

Faith, I fancy not; methinks my Heart has laid up a Stock will laſt for Life; to back which, I have taken a Thouſand Pound upon my Uncle's Eſtate; that ſurely will ſupport us, till one of our Fathers relent.

There's no truſting to that my Friend, I doubt your Father will carry his Humour to the Grave, and mine till he ſees me ſettled in Spain.

And can ye then cruelly reſolve to ſtay till that [31] curs'd Don arrives, and ſuffer that Youth, Beauty, Fire and Wit to be ſacrific'd to the Arms of a dull Spaniard, to be im⯑mur'd and forbid the ſight of any thing that's Humane.

No, when it comes to the Extremity, and no Strata⯑gem can relieve us, thou ſhalt liſt for a Soldier, and I'll carry thy Knapſack after thee.

Bravely reſolv'd; the World cannot be more ſavage than our Parents, and Fortune generally aſſiſts the Bold; therefore conſent now: Why ſhould we put it to a future Hazard? Who knows when we ſhall have another Oppor⯑tunity?

Oh you have your Ladder of Ropes, I ſuppoſe, and the Cloſet Window ſtands juſt where it did; and if you han't forgot to write in Characters, Patch will find a way for our Aſſignations. Thus much of the Spaniſh Contrivance my Fa⯑ther's Severity has taught me, I thank him; tho' I hate the Nation, I admire their Management in theſe Affairs.

Oh, Madam, I ſee my Maſter coming up the Street.

Oh the Devil, wou'd I had my Ladder now, I thought you had not expected him till Night; why, why, why, why, what ſhall I do; Madam?

Oh! for Heaven's ſake! don't go that way, you'll meet him full in the Teeth: Oh unlucky Moment!—

Adſheart, can you ſhut me into no Cupboard, Ram me into no Cheſt, ha?

Impoſſible, Sir, he ſearches every Hole in the Houſe.

Undone for ever! if he ſees you, I ſhall never fee you more.

I have thought on't: Run you to your Chamber, Madam; and Sir, come you along with me, I'm certain you may eaſily get down from the Balcone.

My Life, Adieu—Lead on, Guide.

Heaven preſerve him.

SCENE Changes to the Street.

I don't know what's the matter, but I have a ſtrong ſuſpicion all is not right within; that Fellow's ſauntring about my Door, and his Tale of a Puppy had the Face of a Lye methought. By St. Jago, if I ſhould find a Man in the Houſe, I'd make Mince-meat of him—

Ah poor Charles—ha? Agad he is old—I fancy I might bully him, and make Charles have an Opinion of my Courage.

My own Key ſhall let me in; I'll give them no Warning.

What's that you ſay, Sir?

What's that to you, Sir?

Yes, 'tis to me Sir; for the Gentleman you threaten is a very honeſt Gentleman. Look to't; for if he comes not as ſafe out of your Houſe as he went in, I have half a dozen Mirmidons hard by ſhall beat it about your Ears.

Went in? What is he in then? Ah! a Combination to undo me—I'll Mirmidon you, ye Dog you—Thieves, Thieves.

Murder, Murder; I was not in your Houſe, Sir.

What's the matter, Sir?

The Matter, Raſcals? Have you let a Man into my Houſe; but I'll flea him alive; follow me, I'll not leave a Mouſehole unſearch'd; if I find him, by St. Jago I'll equip him for the Opera.

A Duce of his Cane, there's no truſting to Age—what ſhall I do to relieve Charles? Egad, I'll raiſe the Neigh⯑bourhood—Murder, Murder—

Charles, faith I'm glad to ſee thee ſafe out with all my Heart.

A Pox of your Bawling: How the Devil came you here?

Here, gad, I have done you a piece of ſervice; I told the old Thunderbolt, that the Gentleman that was gone in was—

Was it you that told him, Sir?

S'death, I cou'd cruſh thee into Atoms.

What will you choak me for my Kindneſs?—will my enquiring Soul never leave ſearching into other People's Affairs, till it gets ſqueez'd out of my Body? I dare not fol⯑low him now, for my Blood, he's in ſuch a Paſſion—I'll to Miranda; if I can diſcover ought that may oblige Sir George, it may be a means to reconcile me agen to Charles.

Are you ſure you have ſearch'd every where?

Yes, from the Top of the Houſe to the Bottom.

Under the Beds, and over the Beds?

Yes, and in them too, but found no Body, Sir.

Why, what cou'd this Rogue mean?

Take Courage, Madam, I ſaw him ſafe out.

Bleſs me! what's the matter, Sir?

You know beſt—Pray where's the Man that was here juſt now?

What Man, Sir? I ſaw none!

Nor I, by the Truſt you repoſe in me; do you think I wou'd let a Man come within theſe Doors, when you were abſent?

Ah Patch, ſhe may be too cunning for thy Honeſty; the very Scout that he had ſet to give Warning diſcover'd it to me—and threaten'd me with half a Dozen Mirmidons—But I think I maul'd the Villain. Theſe Afflictions you draw upon me, Miſtreſs!

Pardon me, Sir, 'tis your own Ridiculous Humour draws you into theſe Vexations, and gives every Fool pretence to banter you.

No, 'tis your idle Conduct, your Coquetiſh Flurting into the Balcone—Oh with what Joy ſhall I reſign thee into the Arms of Don Diego Babinetto.

And with what Induſtry ſhall I avoid him!

Certainly that Rogue had a Meſſage from ſome body or other; but being baulk'd by my coming, popt that Sham upon me. Come along ye Sots, let's ſee if we can find the Dog again. Patch, lock her up; D'ye hear?

Yes, Sir—ay, walk till your Heels ake, you'll find no Body, I promiſe you.

Who cou'd that Scout be, which he talks of?

Nay, I can't imagine, without it was Whiſper.

Well, dear Patch, let's employ all our Thoughts how to eſcape this horrid Don Diego, my very Heart ſinks at his Terrible Name.

Fear not, Madam, Don Carlo ſhall be the Man, or I'll loſe the Reputation of Contriving; and then what's a Chambermaid good for?

Say'ſt thou ſo, my Girl: Then—

SCENE Sir Francis Gripe's Houſe.

Well, Gardee, how did I perform my Dumb Scene?

To Admiration—Thou dear little Rogue, let me buſs thee for it: Nay, adod, I will, Chargee, ſo muzle, and tuzle, and hug thee; I will, I faith, I will.

Nay, Gardee, don't be ſo laviſh; who wou'd Ride Poſt, when the Journey laſts for Life?

Ah wag, ah wag—I'll buſs thee agen for that.

Faugh! how he ſtinks of Tobacco! what a delicate Bedfellow I ſhou'd have!

Oh I'm Tranſported! When, when, my Dear wilt thou convince the World of thy Happy Day? when ſhall we marry, ha?

There's nothing wanting but your Conſent, Sir Francis.

My Conſent! what do's my Charmer mean?

Nay, 'tis only a Whim: But I'll have every thing according to form—Therefore when you ſign an Authentick Paper, drawn up by an able Lawyer, that I have your Leave to marry, the next Day makes me yours, Gardee.

Ha, ha, ha, a Whim indeed! why is it not De⯑monſtration I give my Leave when I marry thee.

Not for your Reputation, Gardee; the malicious World will be apt to ſay, you trick'd me into Marriage, and ſo take the Merit from my Choice. Now I will have the Act my own, to let the idle Fops ſee how much I prefer a Man loaded with Years and Wiſdom.

Humph! Prithee leave out Years, Chargee, I'm not ſo old, as thou ſhalt find: Adod, I'm young; there's a Caper for ye.

Oh never excuſe it, why I like you the better for being old—But I ſhall ſuſpect you don't love me, if you Re⯑fuſe me this Formality.

Not Love thee, Chargee! Adod I do love thee better than, than, than, better than—what ſhall I ſay? Egad, better than Money, I faith I do—

That's falſe I'm ſure

To prove it'do this then.

Well, I will do it, Chargee, provided I bring a Licenſe at the ſame time.

Ay, and a Parſon too, if you pleaſe; Ha, ha, ha, I can't help Laughing to think how all the young Coxcombs about Town will be mortify'd when they hear of our Mar⯑riage.

So they will, ſo they will; Ha, ha, ha.

Well, I fancy I ſhall be ſo happy with my Gardee!

If wearing Pearls and Jewels, or eating Gold, as the old Saying is, can make thee happy, thou ſhalt be ſo, my Sweeteſt, my Lovely, my Charming, my—verily I know not what to call thee,

You muſt know, Gardee, that I am ſo eager to have this Buſineſs concluded, that I have employ'd my Womans Brother, who is a Lawyer in the Temple, to ſettle Matters [36] juſt to your Liking, you are to give your Conſent to my Marriage, which is to your ſelf you know: But Mum, you muſt take no notice of that. So then I will, that is, with your Leave, put my Writings into his Hands; then to Morrow we come ſlap upon them with a Wedding that no body thought on; by which you ſeize me and my Eſtate, and I ſuppoſe make a Bonfire of your own Act and Deed.

Nay, but Chargee, if—

Nay, Gardee, no Ifs—Have I refus'd three Nor⯑thern Lords, two Britiſh Peers, and half a ſcore Knights, to have you put in your Ifs?—

So thou haſt indeed, and I will truſt to thy Ma⯑nagement. Od, I'm all of a Fire.

'Tis a wonder the dry Stubble does not blaze.

How now! who ſent for you, Sir? What's the Hundred Pound gone already?

No, Sir, I don't want Money now.

No; that's a Miracle! But there's one thing you want, I'm ſure.

Ay, what's that, Guardian?

Manners; what, had I no Servants without?

None that cou'd do my Buſineſs, Guardian, which is at preſent with this Lady.

With me, Mr. Marplot! what is it, I beſeech you?

Ay, Sir, what is it? any thing that relates to her may be deliver'd to me.

I deny that.

That's more than I do, Sir:

Indeed, Madam; why then to proceed: Fame ſays that you and my moſt conſcionable Guardian here deſign'd, contriv'd, plotted and agreed, to chouſe a very civil, honou⯑rable, honeſt Gentleman, out of a Hundred Pound.

That I contriv'd it!

Ay you—You ſaid never a Word againſt it, ſo far you are Guilty.

Pray tell that civil, honourable, honeſt Gentle⯑man, [37] that if he has any more ſuch Sums to fool away, they ſhall be received like the laſt; Ha, ha, ha, ha, chous'd, quotha! But hark ye, let him know at the ſame time, that if he dare to report I trick'd him of it, I ſhall recommend a Law⯑yer to him ſhall ſhew him a Trick for twice as much; D'ye hear? Tell him that.

So, and this is the way you uſe a Gentleman, and my Friend.

Is the Wretch thy Friend?

The Wretch! Look ye, Madam, don't call Names; Egad I won't take it.

Why you won't beat me, will you? Ha, ha.

I don't know whether I will or no.

Sir, I ſhall make a Servant ſhew you out at the Window, if you are ſawcy.

I am your moſt humble Servant, Guardian; I deſign to go out the ſame way I came in. I wou'd only ask this La⯑dy, if ſhe do's not think in her Soul Sir George Airy is not a fine Gentleman.

He dreſſes well.

Which is chiefly owing to his Taylor, and Valet de Chambre.

And if you allow that a Proof of his being a fine Gentleman, he is ſo.

The judicious part of the World allow him Wit, Courage, Gallantry and Management; tho' I think he ſorfei⯑ted that Character, when he flung away a hundred Pound up⯑on your dumb Ladiſhip.

Does that gaul him? Ha, ha, ha.

So Sir George remaining in deep Diſcontent, has ſent you his truſty Squire to utter his Complaint: Ha, ha, ha.

Yes, Madam; and you, like a cruel, hard-hearted Jew, value it no more—than I wou'd your Ladiſhip, were I Sir George, you, you, you—

Oh, don't call Names. I know you love to be employ'd, and I'll oblige you, and you ſhall carry him a Meſ⯑ſage from me.

According as I like it: What is it?

Nay, a kind one you may be ſure—Firſt tell him, I have choſe this Gentleman to have, and to hold, and ſo forth.

Oh the dear Rogue, how I dote on her!

And adviſe his Impertinence to trouble me no more, for I prefer Sir Francis for a Huſband before all the Fops in the Univerſe.

Oh Lord, O Lord! She's bewitch'd, that's certain; Here's a Huſband for Eighteen—Here's a Shape—Here's Bones ratling in a Leathern Bag.

Here's Buckrum and Canvaſs, to ſcrub you to Repentance.

Sirrah, my Cane ſhall teach you Repentance preſently.

No faith, I have felt its Twin-brother from juſt ſuch a wither'd Hand too lately.

One thing more, adviſe him to keep from the Garden Gate on the left Hand; for if he dare to ſaunter there, about the Hour of Eight, as he uſed to do, he ſhall be ſaluted with a Piſtol or a Blunderbuſs.

O monſtrous! why Chargee; did he uſe to come to the Garden Gate?

The Gardner deſcrib'd juſt ſuch another Man that always watch'd his coming out, and fain wou'd have brib'd him for his Entrance—Tell him he ſhall find a warm Recepti⯑on if he comes this Night.

Piſtols and Blunderbuſſes! Egad, a warm Reception indeed; I ſhall take care to inform him of your Kindneſs, and adviſe him to keep farther off.

I hope he will underſtand my meaning better, than to follow your Advice.

Thou haſt ſign'd, ſeal'd, and ta'en Poſſeſſion of my Heart, for ever, Chargee, Ha, ha, ha; and for you, Mr. Sauce-box, let me have no more of your Meſſages, if ever you deſign to inherit your Eſtate, Gentleman.

Why there 'tis now. Sure I ſhall be out of your Clutches one Day.—Well, Guardian, I ſay no more; but if you be not as errant a Cuckold, as e'er drove Bargain upon [39] the Exchange, or paid Attendance to a Court, I am the Son of a Whetſtone; and ſo your humble Servant.

Don't forget the Meſſage; Ha, ha,

I am ſo provok'd!—'tis well he's gone.

Oh mind him not, Gardee, but let's ſign Articles, and then—

And then—Adod, I believe I am Metamor⯑phos'd; my Pulſe beats high, and my Blood boils, methinks—

Oh fye, Gardee, be not ſo violent; Conſider the Market laſts all the Year—Well, I'll in and ſee if the Law⯑yer be come, you'll follow.

Ay, to the World's End, my Dear. Well, Frank, thou art a lucky Fellow in thy old Age, to have ſuch a delicate Morſel, and Thirty Thouſand Pound in love with thee; I ſhall be the Envy of Batchelors, the Glory of Mar⯑ry'd Men, and the Wonder of the Town. Some Guardians wou'd be glad to compound for part of the Eſtate, at diſ⯑patching an Heireſs, but I engroſs the whole: O! Mihi prae⯑teritos referet ſi Jupiter Annos.

SCENE Changes to a Tavern; diſcovers Sir George and Charles with Wine before them, and Whiſper waiting.

Nay, prithee don't be Grave, Charles; Misfortunes will happen, Ha, ha, ha, 'tis ſome Comfort to have a Compa⯑nion in our Sufferings.

I am only apprehenſive for Iſabinda, her Father's Humour is implacable; and how far his Jealouſie may tranſ⯑port him to her Undoing, ſhocks my Soul to think.

But ſince you eſcap'd undiſcover'd by him, his Rage will quickly laſh into a Calm, never fear it.

But who knows what that unlucky Dog, Marplot, told him; nor can I Imagine what brought him hither; that Fellow is ever doing Miſchief; and yet, to give him his due, he never deſigns it. This is ſome Blundering Adventure, [40] wherein he thought to ſhew his Friendſhip, as he calls it: A Curſe on him.

Then you muſt forgive him; what ſaid he?

Said! nay, I had more mind to cut his Throat, than hear his Excuſes.

Where is he?

Sir, I ſaw him go into Sir Francis Gripe's juſt now.

Oh! then he is upon your Buſineſs, Sir George; a thouſand to one but he makes ſome Miſtake there too.

Impoſſible, without he huffs the Lady, and makes Love to Sir Francis.

Mr. Marplot is below, Gentlemen, and deſires to know if he may have Leave to wait upon ye.

How civil the Rogue is when he has done a fault!

Ho! Deſire him to walk up. Prithee, Charles, throw off this Chagreen, and be good Company.

Nay, hang him, I'm not angry with him. Whiſper, fetch me Pen, Ink, and Paper.

Yes Sir.

Do but mark his ſheepiſh Look, Sir George.

Dear Charles, don't o'rwhelm a Man—already un⯑der inſupportable Affliction. I'm ſure I always intend to ſerve my Friends; but if my malicious Stars deny the Happineſs, is the fault mine?

Never mind him, Mr. Marplot; he is eat up with Spleen. But tell me, what ſays Miranda?

Says—nay, we are all undone there too.

I told you ſo; nothing proſpers that he undertakes.

Why can I help her having choſe your Father for Better for Worſe?

So: There's another of Fortune's ſtrokes. I ſuppoſe I ſhall be edg'd out of my Eſtate with Twins every Year, let who will get 'em.

What is the Woman really poſſeſt?

Yes with the Spirit of Contradiction, ſhe rail'd at you moſt prodigiouſly.

That's no ill Sign.

You'd ſay it was no good Sign, if you knew all.

Why prithee?

Hark'e, Sir George, Let me warn you, purſue your old Haunt no more, it may be dangerous.

My old Haunt, what d'you mean?

Why in ſhort then, ſince you will have it, Miranda vows if you dare approach the Garden-Gate at Eight a Clock, as you us'd, you ſhall be ſaluted with a Blunderbuſs, Sir. Theſe were her Words; nay, ſhe bid me tell you ſo too.

Ha! The Garden-Gate at Eight, as I us'd to do! There muſt be a Meaning in this. Is there ſuch a Gate, Charles?

Yes, yes; it opens into the Park, I ſuppoſe her Lady⯑ſhip has made many a ſcamper through it.

It muſt be an Aſſignation then. Ha, my Heart ſprings with Joy, 'tis a propitious Omen. My dear Marplot, let me embrace thee, thou art my Friend, my better An⯑gel—

What do you mean, Sir George?

No matter what I mean. Here take a Bumper to the Garden-Gate, ye dear Rogue, you.

You have Reaſon to be tranſported, Sir George; I have ſav'd your Life.

My Life! thou haſt ſav'd my Soul, Man. Charles, if thou do'ſt not pledge this Health, may'ſt thou never taſte the Joys of Love.

Whiſper, be ſure you take care how you deliver this

bring me the Anſwer to my Lodgings.

I warrant you, Sir.

Whither does that Letter go?—Now dare I not ask for my Blood.

Now I'm for you.

To the Garden-Gate at the Hour of Eight, Charles, along, Huzza!

I begin to conceive you.

That's more than I do, Egad—to the Garden-Gate, Huzza,

But I hope you deſign to keep far enough off on't, Sir George.

Ay, ay, never fear that; ſhe ſhall ſee I deſpiſe her Frowns, let her uſe her Blunderbuſs againſt the next Fool, ſhe ſhan't reach me with the Smoak, I warrant her, Ha, ha, ha.

Ah, Charles, if you cou'd receive a Diſappoint⯑ment thus En Cavalier, one ſhou'd have ſome comfort in being beat for you.

The Fool comprehends nothing.

Nor wou'd I have him; prithee take him along with thee.

Enough: Marplot, you ſhall go home with me.

I'm glad I'm well with him however. Sir George, yours. Egad, Charles, aſking me to go home with him, gives me a ſhrewd Suſpicion there's more in the Garden-Gate than I comprehend. Faith, I'll give him the drop, and away to Guardians, and find it out.

I kiſs both your Hands—And now for the Garden-Gate.

SCENE the Outſide of Sir Jealous Traffick's Houſe, Patch peeping out of Door.

HA, Mrs. Patch, this is a lucky Minute, to find you ſo readily, my Maſter dies with Impatience.

My Lady imagin'd ſo, and by her Orders I have been ſcouting this Hour in ſearch of you, to inform you that Sir Jealous has invited ſome Friends to Supper with him to Night, which gives an Opportunity to your Maſter to make uſe of his Ladder of Ropes: The Cloſet Window ſhall be open, and Iſabinda ready to receive him; bid him come im⯑mediately.

Excellent! He'll not diſappoint, I warrant him: But hold, I have a Letter here, which I'm to carry an Anſwer of. I can't think what Language the Direction is.

Pho, 'tis no Language, but a Character which the Lovers invented to avert Diſcovery. Ha, I hear my old Ma⯑ſter coming down Stairs, it is impoſſible you ſhou'd have an Anſwer; away, and bid him come himſelf for that—Be gone, we are ruin'd if you're ſeen, for he has doubl'd his Care ſince the laſt Accident.

I go, I go.

There go thou into my Pocket.

Now I'll up the Back-Stairs, leſt I meet him. Well, a dextrous Chamber-maid is the Ladies beſt Utenſil, I ſay.

So, this is ſome Comfort; this tells me that Seig⯑nior Don Diego Babinetto is ſafely arriv'd; he ſhall marry my Daughter the Minute he comes, ha. What's here

A Letter! I don't know what to [44] make of the Superſcription. I'll ſee what's within ſide,

humph; 'tis Hebrew I think. What can this mean. There muſt be ſome trick in it; this was certainly deſign'd for my Daughter, but I don't know that ſhe can ſpeak any Lan⯑guage but her Mother-Tongue. No matter for that, this may be one of Love's Hieroglyphicks, and I fancy I ſaw Patch's Tail ſweep by. That Wench may be a Slut, and in⯑ſtead of guarding my Honour, betray it; I'll find it out I'm reſolv'd; who's there? What anſwer did you bring from the Gentlemen I ſent you to invite?

That they'd all wait of you, Sir, as I told you be⯑fore, but I ſuppoſe you forgot, Sir.

Did I ſo, Sir, but I ſhan't forget to break your Head, if any of them come, Sir.

Come, Sir, why did you not ſend me to deſire their Company, Sir?

But I ſend you now to deſire their Abſence; ſay I have ſomething extraordinary fallen out, which calls me abroad contrary to Expectation, and aſk their Pardon, and d'ye hear, ſend the Butler to me.

Yes, Sir.

If this Paper has a Meaning I'll find it. Lay the Cloath in my Daughter's Chamber, and bid the Cook ſend Supper thither preſently.

Yes, Sir,—hey day, what's the Matter now?

He wants the Eyes of Argus, that has a young handſome Daughter in this Town, but my Comfort is, I ſhall not be troubl'd long with her. He that pretends to rule a Girl once in her Teens, had better be at Sea in a Storm, and would be in leſs Danger.

SCENE Iſabinda's Chamber, Iſabinda and Patch.

Are you ſure, no Body ſaw you ſpeak to Whiſper?

Yes, very ſure Madam, but I heard Sir Jealous coming down Stairs, ſo I clapt this Letter into my Pocket.

A Letter! give it me quickly.

Bleſs me! what's become on't—I'm ſure I put it—

Is it poſſible, thou could'ſt be ſo careleſs—Oh! I'm undone for ever if it be loſt.

I muſt have drop'd it upon the Stairs. But why are you ſo much alarm'd, if the worſt happens no body can read it, Madam, nor find out whom it was deſign'd for.

If it falls into my Father's Hands the very Figure of a Letter will produce ill Conſequences. Run and look for it upon the Stairs this Moment.

Nay, I'm ſure it can be no where elſe.—

How now, what do you want?

My Maſter order'd me to lay the Cloth here for his Supper.

Ruin'd paſt Redemption—

You miſtake ſure; what ſhall we do?

I thought he expected Company to Night—Oh! poor Charles—Oh! unfortunate Iſabinda.

I thought ſo too, Madam, but I ſuppoſe he has alter'd his Mind.

The Letter is the Cauſe; this heedleſs Action has un⯑done me: Fly and faſten the Cloſet Window, which will give Charles notice to retire. Ha, my Father, oh! Confuſion.

Hold, hold, Patch, whither are you going. I'll have no body ſtir out of the Room till after Supper.

Sir, I was only going to reach your eaſie Chair—Oh! wretched Accident!

I'll have no body ſtir out of the Room. I don't want my eaſy Chair.

What will be the event of this?

Heark ye, Daughter; do you know this Hand?

As I ſuſpected—Hand do you call it, Sir? 'Tis ſome School-boy's Scraul.

Oh! Invention, thou Chamber-maids beſt Friend, aſſiſt me.

Are you ſure you don't underſtand it?

Do you underſtand it, Sir?

I wiſh I did.

Thank Heaven you do not.

Then I know no more of it than you do indeed, Sir.

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what have you done, Sir? Why the Paper is mine, I drop'd it out of my Boſom.

Ha! yours, Miſtreſs.

What does ſhe mean by owning it.

Yes, Sir, it is.

What is it? Speak,

Why, Sir, it is a Charm for the Tooth-ach—I have worn it this ſeven Year, 'twas given me by an Angel for ought I know, when I was raving with the Pain; for no body knew from whence he came, nor whither he went, he charg'd me never to open it, leſt ſome dire Vengeance befal me, and Heaven knows what will be the Event. Oh! cruel Misfortune that I ſhould drop it, and you ſhould open it—If you had not open'd it—

Excellent Wench.

Pox of your Charms and Whims for me; if that be all, 'tis well enough; there, there, burn it, and I warrant you no Vengeance will follow.

So, all's right again thus far.

I would not loſe Patch for the World—I'll take cou⯑rage a little.

Is this Uſage for your Daughter, Sir? Muſt my Virtue and Conduct be ſuſpected? For every Trifle, you immure melike ſome dire Offender here, and deny me [47] all Recreations which my Sex enjoy, and the Cuſtom of the Country and Modeſty allow; yet not content with that, you make my Confinement more intolerable by your Miſtruſts and Jealouſies; wou'd I were dead, ſo I were free from this.

To morrow rids you of this tireſome Load,—Don Diego Babinetto will be here, and then my Care ends, and his begins.

Is he come then? Oh how ſhall I avoid this hated Marriage?

Come will you ſit down?

I can't eat, Sir.

No, I dare ſwear he has given her Supper enough. I wiſh I cou'd get into the Cloſet—

Well, if you can't eat, then give me a Song whilſt I do.

I have ſuch a Cold I can ſcarce ſpeak, Sir, much leſs ſing. How ſhall I prevent Charles coming in.

I hope you have the uſe of your Fingers, Ma⯑dam. Play a Tune upon your Spinnet, whilſt your Woman ſings me a Song.

I'm as much out of Tune as my Lady, if he knew all.

I ſhall make excellent Muſick.

Really, Sir, I'm ſo frighted about your opening this Charm, that I can't remember one Song.

Piſh, Hang your Charm; come, come, ſing any thing.

Yes, I'm likely to ſing truly,

humph, humph, bleſs me, Sir, I cannot raiſe my Voice, my Heart pants ſo.

Why, what does your Heart pant ſo that you can't play neither? Pray what Key are you in, ha?

Ah, wou'd the Key was turn'd of you once.

Why don't you ſing, I ſay?

When Madam has put her Spinnet in Tune, Sir, humph, humph—

I cannot play, Sir, whatever ails me.

Zounds ſit down, and play me a Tune, or I'll break the Spinnet about your Ears.

What will become of me?

Come Miſtreſs.

Yes, Sir.

Hey, hey, why you are a top of the Houſe, and you are down in the Cellar. What is the meaning of this? Is it on purpoſe to croſs me, ha?

Pray Madam, take it a little lower, I cannot reach that Note—nor any Note I fear.

Well, begin—Oh! Patch we ſhall be diſcover'd.

I ſink with the Apprehenſion, Madam,—humph, humph—

Muſick and Singing

Death! her Father there,

then I muſt fly—

Hell and Furies, a Man in the Cloſet—

Ah! a Ghoſt, a Ghoſt—he muſt not enter the Cloſet—

The Devil! I'll make a Ghoſt of him I warrant you.

Oh hold, Sir, have a care, you'll tread upon my La⯑dy—who waits there? Bring ſome Water: Oh! this comes of your opening the Charm: Oh, oh, oh, oh.

I'll charm you, Houſe-wife, here lies the Charm, that conjur'd this Fellow in I'm ſure on't, come out you Raſ⯑cal, do ſo: Zounds take her from the Door, or I'll ſpurn her from it. and break your Neck down Stairs.

Oh, oh, where am I—He's gone, I heard him leap down.

Nay, then let him enter—here, here Madam, ſmell to this; come give me your Hand; come nearer to the Win⯑dow, the Air will do you good.

I wou'd ſhe were in her Grave. Where are you, Sirrah? Villain, Robber of my Honour! I'll pull you out of your Neſt.

You'l be miſtaken, old Gentleman, the Bird is flown.

I'm glad I have 'ſcap'd ſo well. I was almoſt dead in earneſt with the Fright.

Whoever the Dog were he has eſcap'd out of the Window, for the Saſh is up. But tho' he is got out of my Reach, you are not: And firſt Mrs. Pandor, with your Charms for the Tooth-ach, get out of my Houſe, go, troop; yet hold, ſtay, I'll ſee you out of my Doors my ſelf, but I'll ſe⯑cure your Charge e'er I go.

What do you mean, Sir? Was ſhe not a Creature of your own providing?

She was of the Devil's providing for ought I know.

What have I done, Sir, to merit your Diſpleaſure?

I don't know which of you have done it; but you ſhall both ſuffer for it, till I can diſcover whoſe Guilt it is: Go, get in there, I'll move you from this ſide of the Houſe

I'll keep the Key my ſelf: I'll try what Ghoſt will get into that Room. And now forſooth I'll wait on you down Stairs.

Ah, my poor Lady—Down Stairs, Sir, but I won't go out, Sir, till I have look'd up my Cloaths.

If thou wer't as naked as thou wer't born, thou ſhould'ſt not ſtay to put on a Smock. Come along, I ſay; when your Miſtreſs is marry'd you ſhall have your Rags, and every thing that belongs to you; but till then—

Oh! barbarous Uſage for nothing.

There, go, and come no more within ſight of my Habitation, theſe three Days, I charge you.

Did ever any Body ſee ſuch and old Monſter!

Oh! Mr. Charles your Affairs and mine are in an ill Poſture.

I am immur'd to the Frowns of Fortune: But what has befal'n thee?

Sir Jealous, whoſe ſuſpicious Nature's always on the Watch; nay, even whilſt one Eye ſleeps, the other keeps Sentinel; upon ſight of you, flew into ſuch a violent Paſſion, that I cou'd find no Stratagem to appeaſe him, but in ſpight of all Arguments, lock'd his Daughter into his own Apartment and turn'd me out of Doors.

Ha! oh, Iſabinda.

And ſwears ſhe ſhall neither ſee Sun or Moon, till ſhe is Don Diego Babinetto's Wife, who arrived laſt Night, and is expected with Impatience.

He dies, yes, by all the Wrongs of Love he ſhall; here will I plant my ſelf, and thro' my Breaſt he ſhall make his Paſſage, if he enters.

A moſt heroick Reſolution. There might be ways found out more to your Advantage. Policy is often preferr'd to open force.

I apprehend you not.

What think you of perſonating this Spaniard, im⯑poſing upon the Father, and marrying your Miſtreſs by his own Conſent.

Say'ſt thou ſo my Angel! Oh cou'd that be done, my Life to come wou'd be too ſhort to recompence thee: But how can I do that, when I neither know what Ship he came in, nor from what part of Spain; who recommends him, nor how attended.

I can ſolve all this. He is from Madrid, his Fa⯑ther's Name Don Pedro Queſto Portento Babinetto. Here's a Letter of his to Sir Jealous, which he dropt one Day; you underſtand Spaniſh, and the Hand may be counterfeited: You conceive me, Sir.

My better Genius, thou haſt reviv'd my drooping Soul: I'll about it inſtantly. Come to my Lodgings, and we'll concert Matters.

SCENE a Garden Gate open, Scentwell waiting within.

So, this is the Gate, and moſt invitingly open: If there ſhou'd be a Blunderbuſs here now, what a dreadful Ditty wou'd my Fall make for Fools; and what a Jeſt for the Wits; how my Name wou'd be roar'd about Streets! Well I'll venture all.

Hiſt, hiſt, Sir George Airy—

A Female Voice, thus far I'am ſafe, my Dear.

No, I'm not your Dear, but I'll conduct you to her, give me your Hand; you muſt go thro' many a dark Paſſage and dirty Step before you arrive.—

I know I muſt before I arrive at Paradiſe; there⯑fore be quick, my charming Guide.

For ought you know; come, come your Hand and away.

Here, here Child, you can't be half ſo ſwift as my Deſires.

SCENE the Houſe.

Well let me reaſon a little with my mad ſelf. Now don't I tranſgreſs all Rules to venture upon a Man, without the Advice of the Grave and Wiſe; but then a rigid knaviſh Guar⯑dian who wou'd have marry'd me! To whom? Even to his nau⯑ſeous ſelf, or no Body. Sir George is what I have try'd in Con⯑verſation, inquir'd into his Character, am ſatisfied in both. Then his Love! Who wou'd have given a hundred Pound only to have ſeen a Woman he had not infinitely loved? So I find my liking him has furniſh'd me with Arguments enough of his ſide; and now the only Doubt remains whether he will come or no.

That's reſolv'd, Madam, for here's the Knight.

And do I once more behold that lovely Object, whoſe Idea fills my Mind, and forms my pleaſing Dreams!

What beginning again in Heroicks!—Sir George, don't you remember how little Fruit your laſt Prodigal Ora⯑tion produc'd, not one bare ſingle Word in anſwer.

Ha! the Voice of my Incognita—Why did you take Ten Thouſand ways to captivate a Heart your Eyes alone had vanquiſh'd.

Prithee, no more of theſe Flights; for our Time's but ſhort, and we muſt fall into Buſineſs: Do you think we can agree on that ſame terrible Bugbear, Matrimony, without heartily repenting on both ſides.

It has been my wiſh ſince firſt my longing Eyes beheld ye.

And your happy Ears drank in the pleaſing News, I had Thirty Thouſand Pound.

Unkind! Did I not offer you in thoſe purchas'd Minutes to run the riſque of your Fortune, ſo you wou'd but ſecure that lovely Perſon to my Arms.

Well, if you have ſuch Love and Tenderneſs, (ſince our Woing has been ſhort) pray reſerve it for our future Days, to let the World ſee we are Lovers after Wedlock; twill be a Novelty—

Haſte then, and let us tye the Knot, and prove the envy'd Pair—

Hold! not ſo faſt; I have provided better than to venture on dangerous Experiments headlong—My Guar⯑dian, truſting to my diſſembled Love, has given up my For⯑tune to my own diſpoſe; but with this Proviſo, that he to Morrow Morning weds me. He is now gone to Doctors-Com⯑mons for a Licenſe.

Ha, a Licenſe!

But I have planted Emiſſaries that infallibly take him down to Epſom, under pretence that a Brother Uſurer of [53] his is to make him his Executor; the thing on Earth he covets.

'Tis his known Character.

Now my Inſtruments confirm him this Man is dy⯑ing, and he ſends me word he goes this Minute; it muſt be to Morrow e'er he can be undeceiv'd. That time is ours.

Let us improve it then, and ſettle on our coming Years, endleſs, endleſs Happineſs.

I dare not ſtir till I hear he's on the Road—then I and my Writings, the moſt material point, are ſoon re⯑mov'd.

I have one Favour to aſk, if it lies in your power, you wou'd be a Friend to poor Charles, tho' the Son of this tenacious Man: He is as free from all his Vices, as Nature and a good Education can make him; and what now I have Vanity enough to hope will induce you, he is the Man on Earth I love.

I never was his Enemy, and only put it on as it help'd my Deſigns on his Father. If his Uncle's Eſtate ought to be in his Poſſeſſion, which I ſhrewdly ſuſpect, I may do him a ſingular piece of Service.

You are all Goodneſs.

Oh, Madam, my Maſter and Mr. Marplot are juſt coming into the Houſe.

Undone, undone! if he finds you here in this Cri⯑ſis, all my Plots are unravell'd.

What ſhall I do! can't I get back into the Garden?

Oh, no! he comes up thoſe Stairs.

Here, here, here! can you condeſcend to ſtand be⯑hind this Chimney-Board, Sir George?

Any where, any where, dear Madam, without Ce⯑remony.

Come, come, Sir; lie cloſe—

I cou'd not go, tho' 'tis upon Life and Death, without taking leave of dear Chargee. Beſides this Fellow buz'd in my Ears, that thou might'ſt be ſo deſperate to ſhoot that wild Rake which haunts the Garden-Gate; and that wou'd bring us into trouble, dear—

So, Marplot brought you back then: I am oblig'd to him for that, I'm ſure—

By her Looks ſhe means ſhe is not oblig'd to me. I have done ſome Miſchief now, but what I can't imagine.

Well, Chargee, I have had three Meſſengers to come to Epſom to my Neighbour Squeezum's, who, for all his vaſt Riches, is departing.

Ay, ſee what all you Uſurers muſt come to.

Peace, ye young Knave! Some Forty Years hence I may think on't—But, Chargee, I'll be with thee to Mor⯑row, before thoſe pretty Eyes are open; I will, I will, Chargee, I'll rouze you, I faith.—Here Mrs. Scentwell, lift up your Lady's Chimney-Board, that I may throw my Peel in, and not litter her Chamber.

Oh my Stars! what will become of us now?

Oh, pray Sir give it me; I love it above all things in Nature, indeed I do.

No, no, Huſſy; you have the Green Pip already, I'll have no more Apothecary's Bills.

Hold, hold, hold, dear Gardee, I have a, a, a, a, a Monkey ſhut up there; and if you open it before the Man comes that is to tame it, 'tis ſo wild 'twill break all my China, or get away, and that wou'd break my Heart; for I am fond on't to diſtraction, next thee dear Gardee.

Well, well, Chargee, I won't open it; ſhe ſhall have her Monkey, poor Rogue; here throw this Peel out of the Window.

A Monkey, dear Madam, let me ſee it; I can tame [55] a Monkey as well as the beſt of them all. Oh how I love the little Miniatures of Man.

Be quiet, Miſchief, and ſtand farther from the Chim⯑ney—You ſhall not ſee my Monkey—why ſure—

For Heaven's ſake, dear, Madam, let me but peep, to ſee if it be as pretty as my Lady Fiddle-Faddle's. Has it got a Chain?

Not yet, but I deſign it one ſhall laſt its Life-time: Nay, you ſhall not ſee it—Look, Gardee, how he teazes me!

Sirrah, Sirrah, let my Chargee's Monkey alone, or Bambo ſhall fly about your Ears, What is there no dealing with you?

Pugh, pox of the Monkey! here's a Rout: I wiſh he may Rival you.

Sir, they put two more Horſes in the Coach, as you order'd, and 'tis ready at the Door.

Well, I am going to be Executor, better for thee, Jewel. B'ye Chargee, one buſs!—I'm glad thou haſt got a Monkey to divert thee a little.

Thank'e, dear Gardee.—Nay, I'll ſee you to the Coach.

That's kind, adod.

Come along, Impertinence.

Egad, I will ſee the Monkey now.

Oh Lord, Oh Lord! Thieves, Thieves, Murder!

Dam'e, you unlucky Dog! 'tis I, which way ſhall I get out, ſhew me inſtantly, or I'll cut your Throat.

Undone, undone! At that Door there. But hold, hold, break that China, and I'll bring you off.

Mercy on me! what's the matter?

Oh you Toad! what have you done?

No great harm, I beg of you to forgive me: Long⯑ing to ſee the Monkey, I did but juſt ràiſe up the Board, and it flew over my Shoulders, ſcratch'd all my Face, broke yon' China, and whiſk'd out of the Window.

Was ever ſuch an unlucky Rogue! Sirrah, I for⯑bid you my Houſe. Call the Servants to get the Monkey again; I wou'd ſtay my ſelf to look it, but that you know my earneſt Buſineſs.

Oh my Lady will be the beſt to lure it back; all them Creatures love my Lady extremely.

Go, go, dear Gardee; I hope I ſhall recover it.

B'ye, b'ye, Dear'e. Ah, Miſchief, how you look now! B'ye, b'ye.

Scentwell, ſee him in the Coach, and bring me word.

Yes, Madam,

So, Sir, you have done your Friend a ſignal piece of Service, I ſuppoſe.

Why look you, Madam! if I have committed a fault, thank your ſelf; no Man is more Serviceable when I am let into a Secret, nor none more unlucky at finding it out. Who cou'd divine your Meaning, when you talk'd of a Blunderbuſs, who thought of a Rendevous? and when you talk'd of a Mon⯑key, who the Devil dreamt of Sir George?

A ſign you converſe but little with our Sex, when you can't reconcile Contradictions.

He's gone, Madam, as faſt as the Coach and Six can carry him.

Then I may appear.

Dear, Sir George, make my Peace! On my Soul, I did not think of you.

I dare ſwear thou didſt not. Madam, I beg you to forgive him.

Well, Sir George, if he can be ſecret.

Ods heart, Madam, I'm as ſecret as a Prieſt when I'm truſted.

Why 'tis with a Prieſt our Buſineſs is at preſent.

Madam, here's Mrs. Iſabinda's Woman to wait on you.

Bring her up,

How do'e Mrs. Patch, what News from your Lady?

That's for your private Ear, Madam. Sir George, there's a Friend of yours has an urgent Occaſion for your Aſſiſtance.

His Name.

Charles.

Ha! then there is ſomething a-foot that I know no⯑thing of. I'll wait on you, Sir George.

A third Perſon may not be proper perhaps; as ſoon as I have diſpatch'd my own Affairs, I am at his Service. I'll ſend my Servant to tell him, I'll wait upon him in half an Hour.

How come you employ'd in this Meſſage, Mrs. Patch?

Want of Buſineſs, Madam. I am diſcharg'd by my Maſter, but hope to ſerve my Lady ſtill.

How! Diſcharg'd! you muſt tell me the whole Story within.

With all my Heart, Madam.

Piſh! Pox, I wiſh I were fairly out of they Houſe. I find Marriage is the end of this Secret: And now I am half mad to know what Charles wants him for.

Madam, I'm doubly preſs'd, by Love and Friend⯑ſhip: This Exigence admits of no delay. Shall we make Marplot of the Party?

If you'll run the Hazard, Sir George; I believe he means well.

Nay, nay, for my part, I deſire to be let into no⯑thing: I'll be gone, therefore pray don't miſtruſt me.

So now has he a mind to be gone to Charles: But not knowing what Affairs he may have upon his Hands at [58] preſent, I'm reſolv'd he ſhan't ſtir: No, Mr. Marplot, you muſt not leave us, we want a third Perſon.

I never had more mind to be gone in my Life.

Come along then; if we fail in the Voyage, thank your ſelf for taking this ill ſtarr'd Gentleman on Board.

WELL, Patch, I have done a ſtrange bold thing! my Fate is determin'd, and Expectation is no more. Now to avoid the Impertinence and Roguery of an old Man, I have thrown myſelf into the Extravagance of a young one; if he ſhould deſpiſe, ſlight or uſe me ill, there's no Re⯑medy from a Huſband, but the Grave; and that's a terrible Sanctuary to one of my Age and Conſtitution.

O fear not, Madam, you'll find your Account in Sir George Airy; it is impoſſible a Man of Senſe ſhou'd uſe a Woman ill, indued with Beauty, Wit and Fortune. It muſt be the Lady's fault, if ſhe does not wear the unfaſhionable Name of Wife eaſie, when nothing but Complaiſance and good Humour is requiſite on either ſide to make them happy.

I long till I am out of this Houſe, leſt any Acci⯑dent ſhou'd bring my Guardian back. Scentwell, put my beſt Jewels into the little Caſket, ſlip them into thy Pocket, and let us march off to Sir Jealous's.

It ſhall be done, Madam.

Sir George will be impatient, Madam; if their Plot ſucceeds, we ſhall be well receiv'd; if not, he will be able to protect us. Beſides, I long to know how my young Lady fares.

Farewel, old Mammon, and thy deteſted Walls; 'twill be no more ſweet Sir Francis, I ſhall be compell'd to the odious Taſk of Diſſembling no longer to get my own, and coax him with the wheedling Names of my Precious, my Dear, dear Gardee. O Heavens!

Ah, my ſweet Chargee, don't be frighted.

But thy poor Gardee has been abus'd, cheated, fool'd, betray'd, but no body knows by whom.

Undone! paſt Redemption.

What won't you ſpeak to me, Chargee!

I'm ſo ſurpriz'd with Joy to ſee you, I know not what to ſay.

Poor, dear Girl! But do'e know that my Son, or ſome ſuch Rogue, to rob or murder me, or borh, contriv'd this Journey? For upon the Road I met my Neighbour Squeſe⯑zum well, and coming to Town.

Good lack, good lack! what Tricks are there in this World!

Madam be pleas'd to tye this Neck-lace on, for I can't get it into the—

The Wench is a Fool, I think! cou'd you not have carried it to be mended, without putting it in the Box?

What's the matter?

Only Dear'e, I bid her, I bid her—Your ill Uſage has put every thing out of my Head. But won't you go, Gardee, and find out theſe Fellows, and have them puniſh'd! and, and—

Where ſhou'd I look them, Child? No I'll ſit me down contented with my Safety, nor ſtir out of my own Doors, till I go with thee to a Parſon.

If he goes into his Cloſet I am ruin'd. Oh! bleſs me in this Fright, I had forgot Mrs. Patch.

Ay, Madam, and I ſtay for your ſpeedy Anſwer.

I muſt get him out of the Houſe. Now aſſiſt me, Fortune.

Mrs. Patch, I profeſs I did not ſee you: How doſt thou do, Mrs. Patch? Well, don't you repent leaving my Chargee?

Yes, every body muſt love her—but I came now—Madam, What did I come for? My Invention is at the laſt Ebb.

Nay, never whiſper, tell me.

She came, dear Gardee to invite me to her Lady's Wedding, and you ſhall go with me Gardee, 'tis to be done this Moment to, a Spaniſh Merchant; Old Sir Jealous keeps on his Humour, the firſt Minute he ſees her, the next he marries her.

Ha, ha, ha, I'd go if I thought the ſight of Matri⯑mony wou'd tempt Chargee to perform her Promiſe: There was a ſmile, there was a conſenting Look with thoſe pretty Twinklers, worth a Million. Ods precious, I am happier than the Great Mogul, the Emperor of China, or all the Poten⯑tates that are not in Wars. Speak, confirm it, make me leap out of my Skin.

When one has reſolv'd, 'tis in vain to ſtand ſhall I, ſhall I; if ever I marry, poſitively this is my Wedding Day.

Oh! happy, happy Man—Verily I will beget a Son, the firſt Night ſhall diſinherit that Dog Charles. I have Eſtate enough to purchaſe a Barony, and be the immortalizing the whole Family of the Gripes.

Come then Gardee, give me thy Hand, let's to this Houſe of Hymen.

My Choice is fix'd, let good or ill betide,

The joyful Bridegroom I,

And I the happy Bride.

Sir, here's a couple of Gentlemen enquire for you; one of them calls himſelf Seignior Diego Babinetto.

Ha! Seignior Babinetto! Admit 'em inſtantly—Joyful Minute; I'll have my Daughter marry'd to Night.

Senior, beſo Las Manos vueſtra merced es muy bien venido en eſta tierra.

Senhor, ſoy muy humilde, y muy obligado Cryado de vueſtra merced: Mi Padre Embia a vueſtra merced, los mas pro⯑fondos de ſus reſpetos; y a Commiſſionado eſte Mercadel Ingles, de concluyr un negocio, que me Haze el mas dichoſo hombre del mundo, Haziendo me ſu yerno.

I am glad on't, for I find I have loſt much of my Spaniſh. Sir, I am your moſt humble Servant. Seignior Don Diego Babinetto has informed me that you are commiſſion'd by Seignior Don Pedro, &c. his worthy Father.

To ſee an Affair of Marriage conſummated be⯑tween a Daughter of yours, and Seignior Diego Babinetto his Son here. True, Sir, ſuch a Truſt is repos'd in me as that Let⯑ter will inform you. I hope 'twill paſs upon him.

Ay, 'tis his Hand.

Good—you have counterfeited to a Nicety, Charles.

If the whole Plot ſucceeds as well, I'm happy.

Sir I find by this, that you are a Man of Honour and Probity; I think, Sir, he calls you Meanwell.

Meanwell is my Name, Sir.

A very good Name, and very ſignificant.

Yes Faith, if he knew all.

For to Mean-well is to be honeſt, and to be honeſt is the Virtue of a Friend, and a Friend is the Delight and Support of Human Society.

You ſhall find that I'll diſcharge the part of a Friend in what I have undertaken, Sir Jealous.

But little does he think to whom.

Therefore, Sir, I muſt intreat the Preſence of your fair Daughter, and the Aſſiſtance of your Chaplain; for Seignor Don Pedro ſtrictly enjoyn'd me to ſee the Marriage Rites perform'd as ſoon as we ſhould arrive, to avoid the Accidental Overtures of Venus.

Overtures of Venus.

Ay, Sir, that is, thoſe little Hawking Females that traverſe the Park, and the Play-houſe to put off their da⯑mag'd Ware—they faſten upon Foreigners like Leeches, and watch their Arrival as carefully, as the Kentiſh Men do a Ship-wreck. I warrant you they have heard of him al⯑ready.

Nay, I know this Town ſwarms with them.

Ay, and then you know the Spaniards are natu⯑rally Amorous, but very Conſtant, the firſt Face fixes 'em, and it may be dangerous to let him ramble e'er he is tied.

Well hinted.

Pat to my Purpoſe—Well, Sir, there is but one thing more, and they ſhall be married inſtantly.

Pray Heaven, that one thing more don't ſpoil all.

Don Pedro writ me Word in his laſt but one, that he deſign'd the Sum of Five Thouſand Crowns by way of Joynture for my Daughter; and that it ſhou'd be paid into my Hand upon the Day of Marriage.

Oh! the Devil.

In order to lodge it in ſome of our Funds, in caſe ſhe ſhould become a Widow, and return for England.

Pox on't, this is an unlucky Turn. What ſhall I ſay?

And he does not mention one Word of it in this Letter.

I don't know how he ſhould.

Humph! True, Sir Jealous, he told me ſuch a Thing, but, but, but, but—he, he, he, he—he did not imagine that you wou'd inſiſt upon the very Day, for, for, for, for Money you know is dangerous returning by Sea, an, an, an, an—

Zounds, ſay we have brought it in Commodities.

And ſo Sir, he has ſent it in Merchandize, Tobac⯑co, Sugars, Spices, Limons, and ſo forth, which ſhall be turn'd into Money with all Expedition: In the mean time, Sir, if you pleaſe to accept of my Bond for Performance.

It is enough, Sir, I am ſo pleas'd with the Coun⯑tenance of Seignior Diego, and the Harmony of your Name, that I'll take your Word, and will fetch my Daughter this Moment. Within there

deſire Mr. Tackum my Neighbour's Chaplain to walk hither.

Yes, Sir.

Gentlemen, I'll return in an Inſtant.

Wondrous well. Let me embrace thee.

Egad that 5000 l. had like to have ruin'd the Plot.

But that's over! And if Fortune throws no more Rubs in our way.

Thou'lt carry the Prize—but hiſt, here he comes.

Come along, you ſtubborn Baggage you, come along.

How's that!

Oh! that I cou'd diſcover my ſelf to her.

Have a care what you do. You had better truſt to his Obſtinacy,

Did you ever ſee ſuch a perverſe Slut, Off I ſay. Mr. Meanwell pray help me a little.

Riſe, Madam, and do not diſoblige your Father, who has provided a Huſband worthy of you, one that will Love you equal with his Soul, and one that you will Love, when once you know him.

Oh! never, never. Cou'd I ſuſpect that Falſhood in my Heart, I wou'd this Moment tear it from my Breaſt, and ſtreight preſent him with the Treacherous Part.

Oh! my charming faithful Dear.

Falſhood! why, who the Devil are you in Love with? Ha! Don't provoke me, for by St. Jago I ſhall beat you, Houſewife.

Heaven forbid; for I ſhall infallibly diſcover my ſelf if he ſhould.

Have Patience, Madam! and look at him: Why will you prepoſſeſs your ſelf againſt a Man that is Maſter of all the Charms you wou'd deſire in a Huſband?

Ay, look at him, Iſabinda, Senior paſe vind adelante.

My Heart bleeds to ſee her grieve, whom I imagin'd would with Joy receive me. Senior a obligue me vueſtra mer⯑ced de ſumano.

Hold up your Head, hold up your Head, Houſewife, and look at him: Is there a pro⯑perer, handſomer, better ſhap'd Fellow in England, ye Jade you? Ha! ſee, ſee the obſtinate Baggage ſhuts her Eyes; by St. Jago, I have a good mind to beat 'em out.

Sir Jealous, you are too paſſionate. Give me leave, I'll try by gentle Words to work her to your Purpoſe.

I pray do, Mr. Meanwell, I pray do; ſhe'll break my Heart.

There is in that, Jewels of the Value of 3000 l. which were her Mother's; and a Paper wherein I have ſettled one half of my Eſtate upon her now, and the whole when I dye. But provided ſhe marries this Gentleman, elſe by St. Jago, I'll turn her out of Doors to beg or ſtarve. Tell her this, Mr. Meanwell, pray do.

Ha! this is beyond Expectation—Truſt to me, Sir, I'll lay the dangerous Conſequence of diſobeying you at this Juncture before her, I warrant you.

A ſudden Joy runs thro' my Heart like a propitious Omen.

Come, Madam, do not blindly caſt your Life a⯑way juſt in the Moment you would wiſh to ſave it.

Pray ceaſe your Trouble, Sir, I have no wiſh but ſudden Death to free me from this hated Spaniard. If you are his Friend inform him what I ſay; my Heart is given to another Youth, whom I love with the ſame ſtrength of Paſ⯑ſion that I hate this Diego; with whom, if I am forc'd to wed, my own Hand ſhall cut the Gordian Knot.

Suppoſe this Spaniard which you ſtrive to ſhun ſhould be the very Man to whom you'd flye?

Ha!

Would you not blame your raſh Reſult, and curſe thoſe Eyes that would not look on Charles.

On Charles! Oh you have inſpir'd new Life, and collected every wandring Senſe. Where is he? Oh! let me flye into his Arms

Hold, hold, hold, S'Death, Madam, you'll ruin all, your Father believes him to be Seignor Barbinetto. Com⯑poſe your ſelf a little, pray Madam.

Her Eyes declare ſhe knows me.

She begins to hear Reaſon, Sir, the fear of being turn'd out of Doors has done it.

'Tis he, oh! my raviſh'd Soul.

Take heed, Madam, you don't betray your ſelf. Seem with Reluctance to conſent, or you are undone,

ſpeak gently to her, Sir, I'm ſure ſhe'll yield, I ſee it in her Face.

Well, Iſabinda, can you refuſe to bleſs a Father, whoſe only Care is to make you happy, as Mr. Meanwell has inform'd you. Come, wipe thy Eyes; nay, prithee do, or thou wilt break thy Father's Heart; ſee thou bring'ſt the [66] Tears in mine to think of thy undutiful Carriage to me.

Oh! do not weep, Sir, your Tears are like a Pon⯑yard to my Soul; do with me what you pleaſe, I am all O⯑bedience.

Ha! then thou art my Child agen.

'Tis done, and now Friend the Day's thy own.

The happieſt of my Life, if nothing Intervene.

And wilt thou love him?

I will endeavour it, Sir.

Sir, Here is Mr. Tackum

Shew him into the Parlour—Senior tome vind ſueipora; cete Momento les Juntta les Manos.

Oh! tranſport—Senior yo la recibo Como ſe deve un Teforo tan Grande. Oh! my Joy, my Life, my Soul.

My Faithful everlaſting Comfort.

Now, Mr. Meanwell let's to the Parſon,

SCENE Changes to the Street before Sir Jealous's Door.

I have hunted all over the Town ſor Charles, but can't find him; and by Whiſper's ſcouting at the End of the Street, I ſuſpect he muſt be in the Houſe again. I'm inform'd too that he has borrow'd a Spaniſh Habit out of the Play⯑houſe: What can it mean?

Hark'e, Sir, do you belong to this Houſe?

Yes, Sir.

Pray can you tell if there be a Gentleman in it in Spaniſh Habit?

There is a Spaniſh Gentleman within, that is juſt a going to marry my young Lady, Sir.

Are you ſure he is a Spaniſh Gentleman?

I'm ſure he ſpeaks no Engliſh, that I hear of.

Then that can't be him I want; for 'tis an Engliſh Gentleman, tho' I ſuppoſe he may be dreſs'd like a Spaniard, that I enquire after.

Ha! who knows but this may be an Impoſtor? I'll inform my Maſter; for if he ſhou'd be impos'd upon, he'll beat us all round,

Pray, come in, Sir, and ſee if this be the Perſon you enquire for.

SCENE Changes to the Inſide of the Houſe.

So, this was a good Contrivance: If this be Charles, now will he wonder how I found him out.

What is your earneſt Buſineſs, Blockhead, that you muſt ſpeak with me before the Ceremony's paſt? Ha! who's this?

Why this Gentleman, Sir, wants another Gentleman in Spaniſh Habit, he ſays.

In Spaniſh Habit! 'tis ſome Friend of Seignior Don Diego's, I warrant. Sir, I ſuppoſe you wou'd ſpeak with Seignior Barbinetto—

Hy-day! what the Devil does he ſay now!—Sir, I don't underſtand you.

Don't you underſtand Spaniſh, Sir?

Not I indeed, Sir.

I thought you had known Seignior Barbinetto.

Not I, upon my word, Sir.

What then you'd ſpeak with his Friend, the Engliſh Merchant, Mr. Meanwell.

Neither, Sir; not I.

Why who are you then, Sir? And what do you want?

Nay, nothing at all, not I, Sir. Pox on him! I wiſh I were out, he begins to exalt his Voice, I ſhall be beaten agen.

Nothing at all, Sir! Why then what Buſineſs have you in my Houſe? ha?

You ſaid you wanted a Gentleman in Spaniſh Habit.

Why, ay, but his Name is neither Barbinetto nor Meanwell.

What is his Name then, Sirrah, ha? Now I look at you agen, I believe you are the Rogue threatned me with half a Dozen Mirmidons—Speak, Sir, who is it you look for? or, or—

A terrible old Dog!—Why, Sir, only an honeſt young Fellow of my Acquaintance—I thought that here might be a Ball, and that he might have been here in a Maſ⯑querade; 'tis Charles, Sir Francis Gripe's Son, becauſe I know he us'd to come hither ſometimes.

Did he ſo?—Not that I know of, I'm ſure. Pray Heaven that this be Don Diego—If I ſhou'd be trick'd now—Ha! my Heart miſgives me plaguily—within there! ſtop the Marriage—Run, Sirrah, call all my Servants! I'll be ſatiſ⯑fy'd that this is Seignior Pedro's Son e'er he has my Daughter.

Ha, Sir George, what have I done now?

Ha! Marplot, here—Oh the unlucky Dog—what's the matter, Sir Jealous?

Nay, I don't know the matter, Mr. Meanwell.

Upon my Soul, Sir George—

Nay then, I'm betray'd, ruin'd, undone: Thieves, Traytors, Rogues!

Stop the Marriage, I ſay—

I ſay, go on Mr. Tackum—Nay, no Ent'ring here, I guard this Paſſage, old Gentleman; the Act and Deed were both your own, and I'll ſee 'em ſign'd, or die for't.

A pox on the Act and Deed!—Fall on, knock him down.

Ay, come on, Scoundrils! I'll prick your Jackets for you.

'Zounds, Sirrah, I'll be reveng'd on you.

Ay, there your Vengeance is due; Ha, ha.

Why what do you beat me for? I han't marry'd your Daughter.

Raſcals! why don't you knock him down?

We are afraid of his Sword, Sir; if you'll take that from him, we'll knock him down preſently.

Seize her then.

Raſcals, retire; ſhe's my Wife, touch her if you dare, I'll make Dogs meat of you.

Ah! downright Engliſh:—Oh, oh, oh, oh!

Into the Houſe of Joy we enter without knock⯑ing: Ha! I think 'tis the Houſe of Sorrow, Sir Jealous.

Oh Sir Francis! are you come? What was this your Contrivance, to abuſe, trick, and chouſe me of my Child!

My Contrivance! what do you mean?

No, you don't know your Son there in Spaniſh Habit.

How! my Son in Spaniſh Habit. Sirrah, you'll come to be hang'd; get out of my ſight, ye Dog! get out of my ſight.

Get out of your ſight, Sir! Get out with your Bags; let's ſee what you'll give him now to maintain my Daughter on.

Give him! He ſhall be never the better for a Penny of mine—and you might have look'd after your Daughter better, Sir Jealous. Trick'd, quotha! Egad, I think you deſign'd to trick me: But look ye, Gentlemen, I believe I ſhall trick you both. This Lady is my Wife, do you ſee? And my Eſtate ſhall deſcend only to the Heirs of her Body.

Lawfully begotten by me—I ſhall be extremely oblig'd to you, Sir Francis.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, poor Sir George! You ſee your Project was of no uſe. Does not your Hundred Pound ſtick in your Stomach? Ha, ha, ha.

No faith, Sir Francis, this Lady has given me a Cordial for that.

Hold, Sir, you have nothing to ſay to this Lady.

Nor you nothing to do with my Wife, Sir.

Wife, Sir!

Ay really, Guardian, 'tis even ſo. I hope you'll forgive my firſt Offence.

What have you chous'd me out of my Conſent, and your Writings then, Miſtreſs, ha?

Out of nothing but my own, Guardian.

Ha, ha, ha, 'tis ſome Comfort at leaſt to ſee you are over-reach'd as well as my ſelf. Will you ſettle your Eſtate upon your Son now?

He ſhall ſtarve firſt.

That I have taken care to prevent. There, Sir, is the Writings of your Uncle's Eſtate, which has been your due theſe three Years.

I ſhall ſtudy to deſerve this Favour.

What have you robb'd me too, Miſtreſs! Egad I'll make you reſtore 'em.—Huſwife, I will ſo.

Take care I don't make you pay the Arrears, Sir. 'Tis well its no worſe, ſince 'tis no better. Come, young Man, ſeeing thou haſt out-witted me, take her, and Bleſs you both.

I hope, Sir, you'll beſtow your Bleſſing too, 'tis all I'll aſk.

Confound you all!

Mercy upon us! how he looks!

Ha, ha, ne'er mind his Curſes, Charles; thou'lt thrive not one jot the worſe for 'em. Since this Gentleman is reconcil'd, we are all made happy.

I always lov'd Precaution, and took care to avoid Dangers. But when a thing was paſt, I ever had Philoſophy to be eaſie.

Which is the true ſign of a great Soul: I lov'd your Daughter, and ſhe me, and you ſhall have no reaſon to re⯑pent her Choice.

You will not blame me, Sir, ſor loving my own Country beſt.

So here's every body happy, I find, but poor Pil⯑garlick. I wonder what Satisfaction I ſhall have, for being cuff'd, kick'd, and beaten in your Service.

I have been a little too familiar with you, as things are fallen out; but ſince there's no help for't, you muſt forgive me.

Egad I think ſo—But provided that you be not ſo familiar for the future.

Thou haſt been an unlucky Rogue.

But very honeſt.

That I'll vouch for; and freely forgive thee.

And I'll do you one piece of Service more, Mar⯑plot, I'll take care that Sir Francis make you Maſter of your Eſtate.

That will make me as happy as any of you.

Your humble Servant begs leave to remind you, Madam.

Sir, I hope you'll give me leave to take Patch into favour again.

Nay, let your Huſband look to that, I have done with my Care.

Her own Liberty ſhall always oblige me. Here's no Body but honeſt Whiſper and Mrs. Scentwell to be provided for now. It ſhall be left to their Choice to Marry, or keep their Services.

Nay then, I'll ſtick to my Maſter.

Coxcomb! and I prefer my Lady before a Foot⯑man.

Hark, I hear Muſick, the Fidlers ſmell a Wed⯑ding. What ſay you young Fellows, will ye have a Dance?

With all my Heart; call 'em in.

Now let us in and refreſh our ſelves with a chearful Glaſs, in which we'll bury all Animoſities: And