THE Country Wit.  
A COMEDY: ACTED at the Duke's Theatre.  
Written by Mr. CROWN.  
LONDON, Printed by T. N. for James Magnes, and Richard Bentley, at the Post-Office in Russel-street, in Covent-Garden, 1675.   

TO THE Right HONOURABLE CHARLES, Earl of MIDDLESEX, one of the Gentlemen of His Majesty's Bedchamber.  
My Lord,  
IT is a bold Expedition which a Writer undertakes, when he sends his Forces abroad into the World; he is to encounter Enemies of all kinds; not only, vast populous Provinces of effeminate understanding, who often defeat with their numbers; but Bold, Barbarous, Hardy, and invincible Fools who will die upon the Turf, rather than yield: nay, and his friends too often break their League, and send secret supplies to his Enemies. All Reputations look on themselves as invaded, and every one pretends to Reputation. Fame is a great Common, where every Cottager thinks he has a right, and will rather suffer it all to lie waste, than any part to be enclosed. Every man thinks himself by Birth, a Wit, as every Spaniard thinks himself a Gentleman; he has as good Blood in his veins, as Persons of the greatest Dignities, only wants their Titles; that is to say, every Man would be a Wit, if he had it. Yet as much value, as they have for it in themselves, they hate no man more, than he who about ●s in that, for which they would have themselves esteemed. But the enmity of poor vulgar Heads were nothing, if Men of the first rank of Wit, had not Feudes among themselves; 'Tis a strange Lunacy that possesses 'em: a man that has the largest Habitation in Fame, will yet think all his Windows darkened, if another soars over him. Men have not the same Frenzies in other things. The greatest lover of Music in the World, does not think he shares one Note less of it, for a crowd of Listeners; what ever quarrels there have been among Trading Nations, about engrossing Commerce, none ever fought to engross the Winds, because no Ship had the less for another having his Sails full: and yet Wit-Adventurers, perpetually contend for the breath of the multitude, and think themselves becalmed, if any one has a gale. In short, a Writer is looked upon as an Invader of the World; and all Mankind are in Arms against him. In such a desperate condition, he must implore, of some potent Person, either his Conduct, or at least leave to awe the World with his name; and I know no greater Name, nor more able to afford me protection than your Lordships. It is but pretending your Lordship favours this Play, and that shall give it safe Conduct through understandings of every Degree and Climate; it can pass through no Region, where your Lordship has not an absolute Command. The Traders to the hot Southern Climes of Wit, find in your Lordship the Golden Coast, vast heaps of that Wit, which passes currant in the World, and bears the Images of others, are known to be coined out of your Lordship's Oar; but nothing can be richer, than that of your own Refining. More temperate Heads which ache under the oppression of that Heat, delight themselves in your Lordship's Courtesy, Generosity, Integrity, Honour, and all the more familiar Virtues: no part of Mankind, but may find some particular Excellence or other in your Lordship, to please them. The Virtues of this age, methinks converse with one another, like the Wits of it, in parties and factions; seldom uniting together; every Virtue takes a House by itself, and there debauches with a thousand Vices. How often do we see Wit, inseparably associating with that Rascal, Ill Nature; and those Fops, Conceits, and Selfishness, and not one virtue in his company? as often do we find courage blustering by itself, and Wit, not daring to come near him. Integrity, Friendship, and Honesty, are so miserably under the hatches, one knows not where to find those poor Creatures; they never in any age, lived in much height, they are not born to great fortune, and seldom acquire one; Knavery has the only Dutch Genius, to get an Estate, but yet they never were so down as now, they now scarce at all appear, or if they do, we find Wit not often in their company. And thus I might discourse, should I go round to all the Moral Virtues; But they are not all so unsociable, as never to meet, they can come together when they like the place, and they are so fond of your Lordship's Soul, not one of 'em fails of resorting thither. And as people use to dress themselves well, when they are to appear in great Assemblies; so those excellent qualities, which we often find slovenly Habited in private Lodgings, by themselves, do now in so much good company, shine in your Lordship's Breast, in their richest Equipage: That repairing to your Lordship's Protection, I march not so much under the Conduct of one, as of many Great Men, united in one. But far be it from me, to sacrifice such a Hecatomb, to the multitude; no, rather let me offer this, and all their applause to your Lordship; for after all, that is my real design. It is true, my Lord, I have not much of it to lay at your Feet. The Play I present you, cannot boast of extraordinary Merit; it is not of the first kind of Plays, a thing may be good in its kind, and yet an ill thing, because the kind is ill; those who do not like low Comedy, will not be pleased with this, because a great part of it consists of Comedy, almost sunk into Farce; yet, if they will allow it well in its kind, I shall desire no more favour from 'em; any may perceive, I never intended to build high, by the poor foundation I laid, and yet, as it happened, the Building stood firmer than I expected, and withstood the battery of a whole party, who did me the Honour to profess themselves my enemies, and made me appear more considerable than ever I thought myself, by showing, that no less than a confederacy was necessary to ruin my Reputation; had they overturned this, they could not have hurt me, since I had long before parted from it, as a trifle, where I never intended to repose; but as it happened, I had the diversion to see the Play stand, and them choked with the dust they made about it: if they would have done me the favour to have taken me into their society, I would have joined with them in damning a great part of it; for I designed it for Damnation; but if they had done so, I fear we should not have agreed in what part: for as if we were designed for enmity, with all that I loathed, they seemed extremely diverted. All this, I say, my Lord, only to offer your Lordship my Present, as clean as I can make it, which I take the more pains about, because I offer it not as a Bribe, but purely a Present. The common declared design of Dedication, like the concealed one of Devotion, is in other terms Bribery; Men do not pray to serve Heaven, but pray that Heaven may serve them; so Dedicators, who trouble great Men, only to gain their Protection, sacrifice not to their Patrons, but sacrifice their Patrons to themselves. I declare, I beg not your Lordship's Protection, but Acceptance of this Play, and then let it perish if it will— Victims ought to die, nor does it come to your Altars, without a Crown, and one received from a Royal Hand; a Fortune more Glorious than I could expect I designed it, (as any one may see by the low Characters) only to serve an Apprenticeship to the City, but being honoured with the King's favour, I thought I ought to treat it with Respect, and I could not do it greater Honour, than to put it in your Lordship's service; and so I discharged myself of a double Debt, and paid all under one, the duty I owed, to what the King favoured, and the much greater Duty and Honour I own to a person, whom Heaven has favoured with Qualities admired by all the World, but by none more than  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most Humble, And Obedient Servant, JOHN CROWN.   

PROLOGUE.  
OH, Sirs, this is a monstrous witty Age  
Wit grown a drug, has quite undone the Stage.  
The mighty Wits now come to a new Play.  
Only to taste the scraps they fling away.  
Poet's new Treat you at your own expense,  
All but the Poets now, abound in Sense;  
City and Country is with Wit o'rflown,  
Weeds grow not faster there, than Wits in Town:  
New Wits and Poets every day are bred,  
Each hour, some budding Criticque shows his Head.  
Plays are so common, they ere little prized,  
And to be but a Poet, is despised.  
The saucy Tongue, much boldness would display,  
That durst in spite of all this plenty, say  
Poets and Criticques too, are very rare,  
Yes, Sirs, we to our sorrow find they are;  
More to the making of a Wit there goes,  
Than niggard Nature commonly bestows.  
A Writer at the least, 'tis not a Grain,  
Only to season, and preserve the Brain;  
From favouring of the Fool, nor at the best  
To spice Discourse with an insipid Jest.  
Writing, like Roman Gloves, should scent a room,  
Each thought should have in it, a strong perfume.  
But oh, few smell of Wit, so very rank,  
Nature of Late is turned a Mountebank,  
A Winter, or a Daffy, and puts off  
For Wit and Sense, some foolish Chemic Stuff.  
A Quintessence, but not of Wit, Heaven knows,  
Which she to all most liberally throws.  
Noise in the Cit., and noise upon the Stage,  
Who would not think it were a witty Age  
Never more noise and talk of Wit was known,  
The triflingst wretch, himself a Judge will own,  
And on his Bench of Judgement, frowning fit,  
And Dubb the Poet which he likes, a Wit.  
Oh, would these quacking tricks, but Nature have,  
And not the poor unhappy World deceive  
With Heat which seems like Wit, but is not so,  
Then real Wit, into esteem would grow;  
Men would not foolishly then take in hand,  
To Judge, or Writ but first would understand;  
Then he, who has but little Wit, would know it,  
And not presume to be a Judge, or Poet.   

The Persons Represented by SIR Thomas Rash, Father to Christina.— Mr. Sandford. Ramble, a wild young Gentleman of the Town, in love with Christina.— Mr. Batterton. Merry,— his Man— Mr. Harris. Sir Mannerly Shallow, a foolish Country Knight.— Mr. Nooks. Booby, a dull Country Clown, Servant to Sir Mannerly.— Mr. Vnderhil. Lord Drybone, an old debauched Lord, that keeps a Wench, and is abused, and jilted by her. Mr. Medbourn. Rash, a Porter.— Mr. Leigh. Women. Lady Faddle— Aunt to Sir Mannerly.— Mrs. Batterton. Christina, Daughter to Sir Thomas Rash, in love with Ramble.— Mrs. Leigh. Betty Frisque,— a young jilting Wench, kept by Lord Drybone.— Mrs. Currer. Siss, her Maid.—  Goody Rash, an Herb-Woman, the Porter's Wife.— Mrs. Norris. Winifrid Rash, her Daughter.—  Isabel, Cbristina's Maid.— Mrs. Leigh. Constable, Watch, Fiddles, Servants, Attendants.  
SCENE, The Pall-Mall.— in the year, 1675.   

THE Country Wit.  

ACT. I.  

SCENE, Sir Thomas Rash 's House.  Enter Sir Thomas Rash, Christina, and Isbella. Chris. 
MArry to morrow Sir!  Sir Tho. 
Ay, to morrow Sir; why not to morrow Sir? what great affairs have you to do that you cannot marry to morrow, as well as to morrow come twelvemonth?  Isab. 
What a rash giddy old man is this; he will (aside. compel my Lady to marry one she never saw, and to a marriage he has not thought on above these ten days.  Chris. 
If I must marry Sir, I think marriage is a great affair; and so great a one, that I ought to consider of it more weeks and months, than there are hours betwixt this and to morrow.  Sir Tho. 
Oh pray do you throw Considering-caps aside, they are not for your wear: No Considering-cap was ever made fit for a woman's head yet.  Isab. 
How! no Considering-cap fit a woman's—  Sir Tho. 
Why hussey who bid you prate?— I say the Marrying, Loving, Embracing part is yours; (turn 〈…〉 the Considering part is mine: I have Considered enough of it.  Chris. 
I doubt not, Sir, but you have prudently co 〈…〉 it: but whether enough or no, perhaps may be a que 〈…〉 please to remember Sir, but few days are past since you first thought of it; and almost the same hour you first thought of it, you resolved of it; and though I doubt not but you considered of it as well as possible for so short a time, yet certainly you did not allow yourself time enough for so weighty an affair.  Sir Tho. 
Not time enough! why what had I to consider of that required time? Here's my daughter Christina and 5000, l. Portion; there's Sir Mannerly Shallow, a young Baronet, and 2000 l. a year. In short, I'll have no more Considering; the affair is concluded, Articles are drawn up betwixt the Lady Faddle and me, by the consent of her Nephew Sir Mannerly Shallow, and Sir Mannerly will be in Town to morrow; and to morrow he shall marry you, before he sleeps, nay before his Boots are off, nay before he lights off his Horse, he shall marry you a Horseback but he shall marry you to morrow.  Isab. 
And he shall bed her a Horseback too, shall he?  Sir Tho. 
Why hussey will you be interrupting still?— get you out of doors.  Isab. 
I ha' done Sir.  Sir Tho. 
I say, get you out of doors.  Chris. 
Prithee Isabel let him alone.  Isab. 
What flesh and blood can endure to see such a Fool's match?— by a Fool, to a Fool; if reports be true.  Sir Tho. 
Your flesh and blood, Saucebox,— or I'll set you out of the Room.  Chris. 
Give o'er, Isabel, when I forbidden you. Well Sir, but suppose Sir Mannerly upon his arrival should not like me.  Sir Tho. 
Not like you! he shall like you, or I'll try it out at Law with him: I have it under black and white, and my black and white, shall make him like your red and white, in spite on's teeth; No, no, there's no such clause in our Articles, there's no such proviso, he's to marry you absolutely Bona fide, and with a Notwithstanding.  Isab. 
Marry her with a Bona fide, and a Notwithstanding!  
〈…〉 ff's this? what's his Bona fide?  
〈…〉 What's that to you, hussey? will you ne'er ha' done?  
〈…〉 y Cane o'er your Bona fide, I'll make you repent 〈…〉 ng.  Chris. 
Have you no respect, Isabel, to my Commands? done't you see that your talking does but enrage him?  Isab. 
Who can endure to have you thus rashly thrown away on a Fool, as all the world says Sir Mannerly is?  Chris. 
Let me alone with the management of my own affairs. Well Sir, but supposing Fortune should flatter me with inclinations to Sir Mannerly.  Isab. 
A worthy piece of flattery!— I ha' done.  (Sir Tho. looks angrily. Chris 
If I should be so unfortunate, not to have the same inclinations for him; I hope Sir you will not compel me to marry one I cannot love, and consequently to be the most miserable of women.  Sir Tho. 
One you cannot love! Maid, you shall love him, I'll make you love him; what cannot you love 2000 l. a year, and a fair Mansion-house, and all conveniences as fine as any in all Cumberland?  Chris. 
No doubt Sir but I shall like his Estate, and his House, and his Movables well enough.—  Isab. 
But the main Movable, the Man, there's the question!  Sir Tho. 
Well, sauciness; you talk very boldly, pretty box of a Baronet of 2000 l. a year, to call him a Movable:— but I will make her love the main Movable.—  Isab. 
I there's the thing:— if she will like the main Movable; if the main Movable will please her.  Sir Tho. 
Well, well, it shall please her: I'll make it please her.  Isab. 
Pray Sir lay aside Passion, and let us Reason the case a little.  Chris. 
Isabel, don't you see that you provoke my Father?  Sir Tho. 
How, would you Reason? Come then, have at you; let her alone, I'll give her free leave to plead what she can: since she would Reason, I will Reason with her: come.  Isab. 
You will own Sir, that Sir Mannerly Shallow is a Country Gentleman.  Sir Tho. 
And so I would have him.  Isab. 
One that never so much as saw London.  Sir Tho. 
As I would have him.  Isab. 
One that never had any thing but Country breeding.  Sir Tho. 
As I would have him.  Isab. 
One that knows nothing but what belongs to Dogs and Horses; that never saw a better Assembly, then what meet at Fairs, Cockfights, and Horse-races.  Sir Tho. 
Just as I would have him.  Isab. 
Well then, is it possible for a Lady (such a one as my Lady) that has never breathed out of the Air of the Town;  Sir Tho. 
And by consequence never in wholesome Air.  Isab. 
Who has always lived to the height and Gallantry of it;  Sir Tho. 
To the height of the Foppery of it.  Isab. 
And conversed with the most Refined Wits of the times;  Sir Tho. 
With the most debauched Rascals of the times.  Isab. 
Should ever endure a dull Country Clown, and a melancholy Country life?  Sir Tho. 
Ay hussey, better than a lewd, fantastical, debauched Town-Fop, and a scandalous Town-life.  Isab. 
You are scandalised at debauchery Sir: I will prove the Country-Gentlemen are full as debauched, as the very lewdest men of the Town: Nay their debaucheries are the more rude, and brutish of the two, and are only thought innocent, because they are insipid.  Sir Tho. 
How! more debauched then the Town-Rascals! the very Rake-hells and scum of Iniquity! that run up and down from Tavern to Tavern, and from Bawdy-house to Bawdy-house, and get so many Pox, and Claps, that half their Estates scarce pay for the Cure of them.  Isab. 
And is that worse than running from Alehouse to Alehouse, and Farm to Farm, and getting so many Bastards, that half their Estates will scarce pay for the maintaining of them?  Sir Tho. 
Men that are always quarrelling, and fight, and duelling.  Isab. 
Men that are always quarrelling, and never fight nor duelling.  Sir Tho. 
Men that turn away their Wives, and keep Whores in their houses.  Isab. 
Men that beat their Wives, and keep Whores in their houses to boot.  Sir Tho. 
Do Country Gentlemen keep Whores in their houses?  Isab. 
Yes, what are their Housekeepers, and Nurses, and Servants, I'd fain know?—  Sir Tho. 
Are they their Whores? You lie, hussey, you lie.  Isab. 
You lie.  Chris. 
Pray Father.  (Sir Tho. with his Cane runs after Isab. Isab. 
Sir Thomas— to beat her, but is held by Christina. Oh Sir Thomas, I do but argue; did you not give me free leave to say what I could in Argument?  Sir Tho. 
Is giving the lie an Argument? hussey, you saucy—  Isab. 
I ha' done, I ha' done Sir; I'll dispute no more.  Sir Tho. 
You had not best, hussey.— And for you, Madam, who began the Argument, that are at your Likes, and your Not Likes; and your Inclinations, and your Compulsions, and I know not what; know that I expect an entire submission to my Commands: prepare without more Logic, and Syllogism, to marry Sir Mannerly the minute he comes to Town, or in plain terms to get out of my doors: If you refuse him for your Husband, know I will disown you for my Daughter; and see how you'll live to the height and Gallantry of the Town then: see if the Refined Wits will maintain you; go to the Refined Wits, go;— Refined Wits with a Pox! Unrefined, lewd, debauched Fops, that scarce ever read a Book in their lives, except it were a Play; that understand nothing but writing Lampoons upon civil people; breaking of Jests on all things, turning all things Civil and Sacred into Ridicule, as they call it; Ridicule, there's a pretty Bastard word; a Son of a whore of the Times, Ridicule: No more ado but prepare to marry Sir Mannerly, or I'll turn you into Ridicule.  Chris 
Good Sir, what need all this Tempest of Passion? I do not refuse your Commands.  Sir Tho. 
Tempest of Passion; Oh, you are at your Metaphors are you?— Tempest of Passion;— Virgin my Tempest of Passion is, to drive you a Ground upon the Shallows; there's a Trope, for your Trope: to show you a broad Jacobus or a Carolus Wit of the last age, is (I take it) of as much value, as a little Guiney Wit of this.— But you forsooth, and your Refined Wits, think there were never any Wits but yourselves; that your Fathers were all a Pack of honest marrying Fools, that had no more wit then to bestow all their Love upon their Wives, and all their Estates upon their Children; to starve themselves of all pleasure, in a Conjugal Pound, that so the young Filleys may wince, and neigh, amongst the Mares in the fat Meadows: I must confess we were all Fools in the event; for had we known we should have gotten such an age of Rake-shames as we have, we should rather have conspired together to have unpeopled the Land; we have a great deal to Answer for lying with our Wives:— But though we were Wits, we were no Prophets, we could not foresee what the age would prove; for if we had, I'faith we had mumped your Refined Wits; they should ne'er have known what Lampoon and Ridicule was.  Chris. 
Dear Sir, what need you continue in this anger, and discompose yourself? I shall endeavour to submit to your Commands.— But pray Sir give me leave to say one thing, and be not angry.  Sir Tho. 
Well, come, come.  Chris. 
Nay but promise me not to be angry.  Sir Tho. 
Well, come, come.  Chris. 
Have you forgot already, Sir, you have as good as engaged me to Mr. Ramble; that all his Friends daily expect when the Match shall be concluded.  Sir Tho. 
Oh are you there about! I thought it would break out at last:— I have pumped you now I'faith:— And have you so little wit, or honour in you, so little of the pride of the House of Rash, to love a wild, lewd, debauched Fellow, who never sought any thing but to abuse you; who pretended honourable Articles, on no design but to get within your Sconces and Halfmoons, and then seize on your Garrison, and deceive you.  Chris. 
How do you know, Sir, his purposes were ill? did he ever reveal 'em to you? I am sure he never did, nor durst to me.  Sir Tho. 
How do I know! do not I see how he behaves himself to all women? he has not been come from France above three months, and here he has debauched four Women, and fought five Duels; not a Keeper in the Town can preserve his do from him; and does not he come every Night here in the Pall-mall, under our own Noses, Serenading with his Fiddles, and Fools, and at every Bush, where he thinks there is a Hare for his Game, setting up a hollow?—  Isab. 
Nay indeed Madam there is too much truth in this; I must needs say, I do not think him a man worthy of you: and though I would not have you married to a Fool you cannot love, neither would I have you married to a false man, that does not love you, at least, not half so much as you merit.  Chris. 
Dost thou conspire with my Father too, to make me wretched?  Isab. 
I cannot but join with him in the truth.  Sir Tho. 
O ho! are you convinced? then I perceive, hussey, you disputed only for the sake of disputing.  Chris. 
All is not truth that is reported; he may love the conversation of women, out of the Ayriness and Gaiety of his temper, and yet have no ill design.  Sir Tho. 
Ayriness and Gaiety of his temper! Lewdness and Debauchery of his temper; and, Maid, I know what you mean by your pleading for him: you mean to run away with him, do you?  Chris. 
I scorn the thought Sir.  Sir Tho. 
I shall not trust your scorn; I will have better security:— I will make you fast enough to Sir Mannerly, as soon as ever he comes, I assure you: and for Ramble, if ever he approaches my doors, I will fight him, nay I'll fight him where e'er I meet him: and so get you to your Chamber, and prepare all things for to morrow.— A light here, a light; who waits there?— no body; where are my people?  [Sir Tho. goes out. Isab. 
I see Sir Thomas is resolved—  
There's no avoiding, Madam.  Chris. 
What shall I do? I am almost distracted.  Isab. 
There is nothing to be done, but to call in your heart as soon as you can; you see it is in a public Bankers hands that deals with so many, that it is impossible but he must break with some: some will scarce ever get their Interest, and few the Principal.  Chris. 
Ah Isabel, what would I give to be assured of that? Oh how much ease it would afford my heart: I than could with as much delight and pleasure hate him, as now I love him.  Isab. 
Heaven!— Assurance!— what assurance Madam do you expect? would you fain see him a bed with some woman? will no assurance serve you but that? to be plain, he is false to you, and I dare swear you make but one of the fifty in the Catalogue of women he makes Love to: To satisfy yourself, do but inquire.  Chris. 
Inquire! was I till now never informed of this? have I not oft been vexed with these Reports? and have I not as oft accused him too?— and has he not denied 'em still with Oaths, such Oaths that if he thinks he has a Soul, he must believe it damned, if he be false: Do you not know that all I say is truth?  Isab. 
I do: and do you not as well remember, I told you all was falsehood he affirmed? he think he has a Soul! alas good man, he seldom sets his thoughts on those affairs: he loves his Soul, but as he loves his Bawd, only to Pimp for pleasures for the Body, and then Bawd-like it may be damned, he cares not.  Chris. 
He is beholding to you for this Character.  Isab. 
The scurvy Picture is too like the Life.  Chris. 
He gives me too much cause to fear it is.  
Heaven! for the future comforts of my life  
Grant me but one, but one discovery;  
If after that blessed hour I do not hate him,  
Hate him with perfect hatred; nay contemn him,  
Contemn him, as the abject'st thing in Nature;  
Let me be doomed t' eternal Infamy,  
To live the scorn and scandal of my Sex:  
And die for love of him consumed to Ashes,  
By some new flaming, Pestilential Fever;  
And let those Ashes serve to dry the billet doux  
He writes to Common, and Abandoned Wenches.  Isab. 
What an unheardof Curse have you invented?  
And may he flay off all my skin for Paper,  
If I employ not all my wit to trace him;  
And women's wits have always edge, and point,  
In these affairs:— I'll to his Lodging presently,  
And hunt him dryfoot thence:— would odds were laid me,  
I did not rouse my wild, outlying Buck,  
This hour, and catch him brousing on some Common,  
Where he perhaps little suspects a Hunter.—  
— But, Sir Thomas—  Enter Sir Thomas, with two Servants with Lights. Sir Tho. 
Come, come, to your Chamber Maiden,—  
And fit your accoutrements against to morrow.  Enter a Servant. Ser. 
Sir, my Lady Faddle is coming to speak with you.  Sir Tho. 
My Lady Faddle! news I warrant from her Nephew Sir Mannerly;— her Ladyship is welcome:— where is she?— wait on her in.—  Isab. 
Now we shall have a mess of fine stuff: bragging and praising herself and her Nephew, in conceited fantastical language; making Court to herself, in such an absurd manner, that it would make Pride humble, to see itself appear so ridiculous.  Chris. 
Ay; and still railing against the bad women of the Town; only because they get all the men from her: because she can get no Lovers, she would fain have Love out of fashion.  Isab. 
Ay;— and still most severely censuring all that are young, and handsome, to be naught: though she at the same time does all she can to seem handsome, that she may be naught.  Chris. 
That is like her railing against Painted women, at the same minute she is Painting herself:— But— ' saint, she's a coming.  Enter Lady Faddle and Bridget, Lady Faddle with a Letter. Sir Tho. 
My Lady Faddle! your Ladyship's very humble Servant: what kind occasion gives me the honour of your Ladyship's visit thus late?  La. Fad. 
Sir Thomas, how dost thou do? dear Sir Thomas, I have received a Letter this instant, which tells me news which I am persuaded will not be undelightfull: — Chritty, how dost thou do sweet Chritty? Thou hast a very passionate Adorer posting to thy Altars: Thy Lover is flying to thee on the wings of Love and Honour, as the Poets say in their Plays.  Chris. 
What stuff's here?  Sir Tho. 
News I warrant from your Nephew Sir Mannerly.  La. Fad. 
Exactly conjectured, I'll assure thee Sir Thomas: he writes me word he intends, out of a piece of Gallantry, to ride Post all night, that he may visit his Mistress by break of day; he is unwilling the Sun should see her before him.  Sir Tho. 
A very fine expression; I'll give him a thousand pound more with her for that expression:— He's unwilling the Sun should see her before him.— I protest I have not heard a wittier and a finer passage.  Chris. 
Oh most delicate! here's one glimpse of the Fool's Picture I am to marry already: I shall see it more at large presently.  (aside to Isabella. La. Fad. 
Nay, I assure you Sirs you'll find him a notable youth: — Chritty, thou must look over thy Academy of Compliments to night, Chritty, against he comes; or on my Honour he will be too hard for thee: he'll run thee down: he puts the Country Gentlemen to such Non-plusses, that they do not know what to say to him: he is called the very wit and spark of Cumberland; and is indeed the very flower and ornament of the North.  Chris. 
I'll warrant you his wit and sparkship lies in being an infinite babbler, and a most expert fool at Questions and Commands, Carrying of Counsel, Cross-purposes, and some such ingenious sports.  (aside to Isab. Isab. 
Ay; and I warrant writes Anagrams, and Acrostics.  (aside. Sir Tho. 
Is it possible that one can be so finely bred in Cumberland?  La. Fad. 
Oh you will wonder at it, when you see him, to see how finely bred he is, how Juntee and Complaisant.  Sir Tho. 
Marvel!— what and has never seen the Town!  La. Fad. 
Never seen any Town, almost: you must know his Father the old Baronet was a man that had mortal enmities to the Town, and to all sorts of Town-vanity; and would never suffer him to wear a Gentile Suit, to read any Book, except a Law-Book, nor to stir from home, but in his Company; and that was seldom any whither but to his Farms, and Tenants, to see his Grounds, and Woods, or overlook his Quarries, and Cole-mines: and then his Mother, my Sister Shallow, on the other side, was the fondest creature of him, and would never suffer him to be out of sight, except when he was with his Father: and both these having not been dead above a Twelvemonth, and the affairs of his Estate employing him much at home, I am persuaded the bounds of his Land have been the utmost extents of his travel; except since his Parent's death, he has given himself a swinge to some Race, or Fair.  Chris. 
He is like to be a most accomplished person.  (aside. Sir Tho. 
Your Ladyship puts me in admiration:— Good Madam, which way could he come by this fine breeding?  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas, you will put me on a piece of vanity.  Isab. 
And that needs not, on my word.  (aside. Sir Tho. 
Oh your Ladyship's humble servant.  La. Fad. 
If I must answer you the truth, Sir Thomas, I must say in spite of my modesty, he is indebted to me for the most of his accomplishments.  Chris. 
Then they are most accomplished accomplishments.  (aside. Sir Tho. 
Oh I beg your Ladisips' pardon, I did not conceive that before.  La. Fad. 
Oh good Sir Thomas, it is easily granted; you must know I accustomed myself in my Sister's life-time, to bestow my company on her every Summer.  Chris. 
Indeed if I had been she, I would never have thanked you for the Gift: I would rather you had bestowed your absence on me.  La. Fad. 
And you may imagine for the Honour of my Family neglect ●● occasion of instructing my Nephew, in all things than 〈…〉 to a well-bred Gentlemen; and truly I found high 〈…〉 docible Scholar.  Sir Tho. 
〈◊〉 if your Ladyship had the forming of him, he is the most perfect of Gentlemen; the Pattern of breeding and virtue: for no Common Excellencies could be derived from such a noble Instructress.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas, you overrun me with too great a flood of language.  Sir Tho. 
Oh 'tis your Ladyship only is the Governess of that Province.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas, it is you are the Inheritor, 'tis you have the learning, and the parts.  Sir Tho. 
Oh 'tis your Ladyship has the Phrase, and the Mine.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas, it is you have all.  Sir. Tho. 
Oh the Sovereignty is your Ladyships.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas, you depose yourself from your Rights.  Sir Tho. 
Oh 'tis your Ladyship dethrones yourself.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas.  Sir Tho. 
Oh Madam.  La. Fad. 
Intolerable presumption it were—  Sir Tho. 
I beseech your Ladyship.  La. Fad. 
I protest Sir Thomas—  falls a Coughing. Chris. 
Oh how seasonably this Cough comes to deliver my poor Father.  (aside. La. Fad. 
Fie upon this tickling rheum.  Sir Tho. 
Oh your Ladyship strains yourself too much, to be obliging.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas.  Sir Tho. 
Oh no more, I beseech your Ladyship: I will not presume to enter any more into the Lists and Tournaments of the Tongue with your Ladyship: I yield the Laurel to your Ladyship.— But to return to the discourse from which we wandered, of Sir Mannerly: I am infinitely glad to hear of his accomplishments and perfections; for now I hope I shall convince my Daughter, when he appears, that there grow finer things in the Country then Pinks and Daisies:— the Country is able also to produce a fine Gentleman; yes Daughter, and (I hope) as fine a man as your adored Ramble too: she thinks him, Madam, the very top of the Creation, the flower and quintessence of Gallantry, the wit of Nature, a mere Poem.  La. Fad. 
Oh fie upon thee, Chritty; dost thou debauch thy affections with that le 〈…〉 still?  Sir Tho. 
Ay, Madam; 〈◊〉 chide her.  La. Fad. 
Strange! did I never tell you how he courts a young wench that lives over against my Lodging in the Pall-mall, one Betty Frisque?  Isab. 
This is the wench I told you of.  (aside to Christina. Chris. 
I give never the more credit to the story from her Authority.  (aside to Isab. La. Fad. 
This wench you must know is kept by that filthy old fellow my Lord Drybone, an old harassed fellow of the Town; one that has been an eminent sinner these 30 years; was a great Comrade of Prince Griffins in the beginning of the War.  Sir Tho. 
I am more happy then to know him.  Chris. 
If the truth were known, he was some quondam Gallant of her Ladyships.  (aside. La. Fad. 
And she being exceeding pretty, (as I must needs say she is) some say she bears some little resemblance of me? I think indeed she has a little of the Air of my face.  Sir Tho. 
Then she wants for no beauty.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir Thomas, I did not lay a plot for that Compliment.  Sir Tho. 
Oh Madam.  Chris. 
Ridiculous!  (aside. La. Fad. 
She being, as I said, wonderful pretty, he is fond of her to distraction; and so jealous, that he locks her up closer than a Nun, will scarce let her stir so far as the Balcony; will not let her see any man, though but through the Casement.  Sir Tho. 
And to be brief, this wild fellow Ramble plays tricks to deceive the Lord Drybone of his beloved Prize.  La. Fad. 
Most certain.  Sir Tho. 
And your Ladyship has seen these passages.  La. Fad. 
Not I: I know not the fellow when I see him: I hate fellows that run after such Creatures.— I know such fellows!— Foh:— I have 'em from the Wenches own mouth: You must know, out of pity to her, because I know her Friends, I give myself the trouble to sit with her sometimes, to endeavour to draw her from that vile course of life, and to return to Virtue, of which she has yet some few sparks remaining.  Sir Tho. 
Well, I hearty thank your Ladyship for this story; now I am confirmed what a fellow this Ramble is: and does he rank my Daughter with his Betty Frisques, and his Trulls? let him but come near my doors if he dares.— Now Maid, you will importune me for Ramble again, will you? yes, Betty Frisque and you shall try a Frisquin for him,— you shall Duel it, you shall.— Well Madam, Sir Mannerly will be in Town to morrow you say.  La. Fad. 
Before the Sun's up.  Sir Tho. 
My money is ready, Madam; we must not delay this business, lest any inconveniency should arise, if Ramble comes to have any intelligence of it.  La. Fad. 
They shall marry on sight.  Sir Tho. 
I could wish Sir Mannerly had kept to the letter of the Articles, and been in Town as he was obliged, four days ago.  La. Fad. 
You know I gave you the reason, and two or three days can break no square: I know, Sir Thomas, you are a person of that Honour, as not to take any advantage.  Sir Tho. 
Not in case no damage arises by delay.  La. Fad. 
There shall none, I warrant thee, Sir Thomas.  Sir Tho. 
Well, it grows late: I am your Ladyship's most humble servant:— I beseech you let me wait on your Ladyship to your Chair.  La. Fad. 
It needs 〈◊〉, Sir Thomas.  Chris. 
I love my Father for this;— he very civilly and Complementally turns her out of doors.  (aside. Sir Tho. 
Oh Madam, what do you take me to be? do you think I will be so rude? Take Lights here; — Christina, pay your duty to your Lady-Aunt that must be,— and see her in her Chair.  Sir Tho. ushers Lady Faddle out, Isab. carries Lights. Music plays. Chris. 
Oh now I am alone, my heart would break, But that I scorn to let so false a man, Plant Trophies on my Grave.—  Music without. Enter Isabella running. Isab. 
Oh Madam, Madam, Mr. Rambles Fiddles are just now going by the door; your Father in a rage calls for his Sword, and will go fight him: if you please I will dog him, and discover his Intrigue.  Chris. 
Where are they? which way went they? My Scarf, and my Vizard Masque, quickly.  Exit running.  

SCENE, The Pall-mall.  Merry goes over the Stage, followed by Music. Enter Lady Faddle holding Sir Tho. Rash, followed by a Chair and Flambaux. Sir Tho. 
Fear not, Madam, there shall no mischief come of it.  La. Fad. 
At my request, Sir Thomas.  Sir Tho. 
Your Authority over me is so absolute:— I will pawn my Honour to your Ladyship there shall no mischief be done, I will only send him further from my doors.  Footm. 
The Music goes near your Ladyship's door.  La. Fad. 
Near my door! he will not have the impudence to Serenade me sure.  (goes into the Chair. 
I am afraid the Fellow will pester me with his Amours:— Go home quickly.  (to the Chair-men. 
Sir Thomas, Good-night.  Exit. Sir Tho. 
Boy, my Buffcoat and my Tuck.  Exit. The Music goes over the Stage. Enter Christina and Isabel vizarded, following it. Chris. 
Now I shall discover my Gentleman;—  
I thank Heaven for the ease this will give me:  
But oh how wretched is a Lover's fate,  
When those we love, we study arts to hate.  Exeunt.   

ACT. II.  

SCENE, The Street.  Enter Merry and the Fiddles, followed by Christina and Isabel. [Lady Faddle and Bridget in the Balcony.] Merry. 
SO, stand here, this is the place; it will not be long ere my Master comes.  Isab. 
This is as my Lady Faddle said, my Lord Drybone's house.  Chris. 
That foolish woman was in the right I see.  Isab. 
Oh I will believe her Intelligence about these matters, as soon as any one's: she that plies in all places so diligently as she does, to get the reversion of some Intrigue, never fails of true Intelligence in these affairs.  Chris. 
And yet railing against Love is the perpetual subject of her eternal Tongue.  Isab. 
Oh she has reason, for Love uses her very scurvily, considering how much she Courts it.  Chris. 
Hark,— I think I hear babbling in her Balcony.  Isab. 
I warrant she's lending her foolish ear to the Music.  La. Fad. 
Not Ramble's Fiddles!  Bridg. 
No, Madam;— I saw the Gentleman's face as a Link passed by.  La. Fad. 
Then the Serenade is to me; and I will know who dares be so bold.  Bridg. 
To your Ladyship! why should you think 'tis to you, Madam? 'tis over at my Lord Drybone's house.  La. Fad. 
What if it be? why may it not be directed to me? is my Person secure from the trouble of Amours? thou speakest this out of contempt to me; I take it for an affront.  Bridg. 
I beseech your Ladyship think not so.  La. Fad. 
I do not think so; my Person is not yet—  Bridg. 
I do not talk of your Person, Madam:— Lord what diligent watching and scouting have we to (aside. get a forlorn Lover into our weak ambush, and cannot!— Madam, I only say 'tis over the way at my Lord Drybone's.  La. Fad. 
Still continue in contradiction to me! dispute no more, but go and command the person from me, whoever he is, to come over to me; and if he has a passion, let him express it in a decent manner: in such a manner as I may with honour receive it.  Bridg. 
If he has a passion,— that is the thing she would be at.  (aside. La. Fad. 
And let all my Servants appear, that he may know of what quality she is whom he pretends to Serenade.  Bridg. 
That he may know what a kind Coming Lady she is who would fain be Serenaded.  (aside. Ex. La. Fad. and Bridg. Chris. 
It was her voice.  Isab. 
She was standing there I warrant in a fit of envy; repining at the plenteous feasts of other Beauties, whilst she would be glad of the Crumbs that fall from their Table.  Chris. 
What's the reason Ramble's Fiddles are so long silent? I am resolved I'll stay here till I see the event: whether the thing he Serenades will come to him or no.  Mer. 
'Tis a very dark night, there's not light enough to show me the end of my Nose: what stays this Master of mine so long? some new Love-adventure, I'll lay my life on't; for nothing else could stay him I'm sure: Oh 'tis a brave Universal Lover! what pity 'tis such a large spacious soul, that holds such vast prodigious quantities of Love, should have but one body to vent it at: the vent is too narrow: all the convenience is, that it is never empty.— But see here's a pretty woman coming out of that house.  Enter Bridget. Isab. 
Here's my Lady Faddles woman coming.  Mer. 
Like Master, like Man: my Master is a Leviathan in Love, and I am a very Grampois; all but my Master are Porpoises to me: some neighbouring She-vessel afraid of me, has thrown this Vessel overboard for me to play withal: and see she swims towards me.  Chris. 
They meet.  Isab. 
'Tis Merry, Mr. Ramble's man.  Chris. 
What design should they have together.  Mer. 
To me, Madam!  Bridg. 
Yes Sir, a Lady of quality over the way has something of concern to discourse with you, and desires you will oblige her so far as to come over.  Mer. 
A Lady of quality have concerns with me!—  (aside. 
Some blessing thrown on me from Love, I hope, to reward my diligent labours in his service: No adventure with a woman can be ill: I'll hazard my person:— wait you at that corner; — (to the Fiddles.) That way my Master will come: if he ask for me, tell him I am called out in the service.  Ex. Merry and Bridg. Chris. 
Gone in with my Lady Faddles woman! does Ramble hold secret correspondence with his public enemy my Lady Faddle? is he come to that piece of treachery?  Isab. 
Only secret love; correspondence between Merry and Bridget: my Lady Faddle cannot be guilty of so cunning a plot: you honour her understanding too much, to accuse her of it.  Chris. 
Well, why do I submit to such baseness, to creep after a false fellow who deserves not my meanest thought?— Mr. Ramble, farewell; your Fiddles have cured me of the Tarantula of Love, and the paltry Animal shall set his little venomous teeth in me no more, I warrant it.  Isab. 
Come, come, hang it, forgive a little extravagance for once; he loves you well in the main, I think in my Conscience: besides, all men are as bad; the whole Nation is infected with the same disease: there is not a sound-hearted wholesome Lover in it, except it be such a one as your Country fool; and a thousand to one but he brings to Town some Country Itch too; a passion for a Dairy Maid:— Oh the invincible charms of a Syllabub!  Chris. 
Dispute not:— I hate him, and the hour when first I saw him, and myself that ever I loved him: Nay, I hate the Passion of Love for his sake, and with this blast of Rage goes out that flame which his false fires enkindled: and now I will never spend one thought more of him: all my vexation is, that I must suffer for his crimes; because he has been false, I must be condemned to pine away my life in the embraces of a Clown:— a reasonable piece of Justice.  Isab. 
Come, Madam, never conspire to your own unhappiness: harken not to pride; pride is a huffing vapouring Ass, pretends to conquer Love, and do greater matters than he is able: Love is not to be Hectored by such a Coxcomb: harken to Love, and make yourself as happy as you can, if you cannot be as happy as you would, or as you deserve.  Chris. 
Leave thy Politics, and thy idle discourse, or leave me: my Resolution is fixed: I know when I do examine Ramble about it, he will have the impudence to deny it all; but I will circumvent him:— have you borrowed my Cousin's Lodgings. for our plot.  Isab. 
Yes, Madam, the whole House is at your service.  Chris 
I'll go thither with speed: do thou watch thy opportunity to speak to Ramble.  Exit. Enter Bridget laughing. Bridg. 
What sport have I had!— Now the amorous Star whom my Lady has so long Courted, has shed his Influence: she has gained a Lover, now her heart will be at rest; and her tongue too will have many a minute's repose, which was before continually railing against Intrigues, and wanton women, and lewd men, and I know not what: But the way of gaining him was pleasant; she plainly frighted the man into Love, faced him down he Serenaded her, and she would right her Honour, that the poor man is forced to pretend an extraordinary Passion for fear of being Cudgelled:— But see he was coming away already, I believe he suspects a beating still.  Enter Lady Faddle and Merry. Mer. 
Oh Madam, what do you mean to give your sweet beauteous self this trouble?  La. Fad. 
What should I mean Sir, but to express my civilities.  Mer. 
The air is damp, Madam, and you may catch one of these scurvy reigning Colds, that possess almost all the Lungs and Noses of the Town; and you are now in more danger than any, because a Cold will be ambitious to inhabit your fair person.  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir, you are very ingenious: I may well endure a minutes cold air for you, who have sighed so many cold Evenings (as you say you have) under my window.  Mer. 
That I have indeed, Madam.  La. Fad. 
Well Sir, to tell you truth, I dare not be unkind to you: for as some men have unlucky hands, where they strike they kill; so I have unlucky eyes, where I wound I swear I very often kill: I swear so many have died for me, that I began to have a little regret in my mind, and resolve to bring no more Innocent blood on my head.  Mer. 
Oh blessed be that pious Resolution!— but for this comfort my fate had been the same: my soul might have gone to the Music of the Spheres, but never to the Fiddles that wait for me in the Street.  Enter a Fiddler running. Fidl. 
Where is he? — Jack, Jack Merry, your Master is come; come away quickly.  Mer. 
You saucy Rascal, whither do you press.  (strikes him Fidl. 
How now, you puppy, what's this for? I'll make your Master Cudgel you.  Exit Fidler. Mer. 
Dog, I'll run him through.  La. Fad. 
Hold, hold Sir, what's the meaning of this?  Mer. 
A rude fellow to press into a Lady's presence; because we Jest with one another in the Streets, he must come and play his Horseplay here.  La. Fad. 
What does the fellow mean, Sir?  Mer. 
You must know there is a Gentleman in this Town, one Mr. Ramble, that is a great Comrade of mine; we live together, and are sworn Brothers, and call one another out of Raillery Master and Man; sometimes I am his Man, and sometimes he is my Man: and indeed we are inseparable; join hearts, join secrets, join Fiddles together; he knows of my Love, and I know of his Love; and both our Mistresses living so directly opposite one to the other, we bring our Fiddles and Serenade both under one: and this wild fellow you saw, is a Gentleman that we admit in our Company, because he plays his part on the Violin:— and he has no more Manners then to press after me into a Lady of Quality's presence, like an illbred Scraper as he is:— I swear I'll—  La. Fad. 
Oh Sir, let there be no quarrels.—  Mer. 
No, no, Madam, I'll warrant you.  La. Fad. 
Nay, but promise me; it will make me public, and dishonour me.  Mer. 
I will engage my Honour there shall not:— Well, most dear, dear Madam, we are now each others for ever; to morrow the formalities of the Church shall conclude what is so happily begun.  La. Fad. 
Farewell, dear Sir.  Mer. 
Farewell, most dear Madam: Oh happy night! Oh happy hour! Oh happy me!  La. Fad. 
Well, I swear this was unexpected.  Ex. Enter Ramble and Music at one door: Ramble meets Merry. Ramb. 
Who's there, Merry?  Mer. 
Who should it be else? who walks the Streets o''is time of nights but you or I, Sir?  Ramb. 
I have been stayed by the bravest adventure.  Mer. 
I have not been idle, Sir; I dare compare adventures with you for what you please.  Ramb. 
I'll tell thee mine anon.  Mer. 
And I'll tell you mine, when you have a mind to laugh: Well, Sir, my comfort is you nor I shall not have much to answer for, for neglecting the talents Nature has given us: we have no loss of time lies on our Consciences: while other lazy people sleep and take their ease, we are conscientiously labouring in the Cause; and yet these wicked people censure us, and say we turn day into night, and night into day, and invert the order of Nature.  Ramb. 
The order of Nature! the order of Coxcombs; the order of Nature is to follow my appetite: am I to eat at Noon, because it is Noon, or because I am a hungry? to eat because a Clock strikes, were to feed a Clock, or the Sun, and not myself: let dull grave Rogues observe distinction of seasons; eat because the Sun shines, and when he departs lie drowned some nine hours in their own Phlegm; I will pay no such homage to the Sun, and time, which are things below me: I am a Superior being to them, and will make 'em attend my pleasure.  Mer. 
Most nobly resolved: how proud shall I be to have the Sun my fellow Servant.  Ramb. 
The World is Nature's house of entertainment, where men of wit and pleasure are her free Guests, tied to no rules, and orders; Fools indeed are her Householdstuff, which she locks up and brings forth at seasons; handsome Fools are her Pictures; studious, plotting, engineering Fools, are her Mechanic Implements; strong laborious Fools, are her Common Utensils; valiant bold Fools, are her Armoury; and dull insignificant Fools, are her Lumber: which by Wars, Plagues, and other conveniencies, she often throws and sweeps out of the World.  Mer. 
Very well, Sir:— and pray what Fool am I?  Ramb. 
An amphibious Creature, that livest in both Elements of Wit and Fool: the major part of thee is Fool; but that part of thee that is Wit, is true Wit; and so thou art a nobler Animal than many of those poor Creatures that thou seest swim after men of wit and sense, for the scraps and orts of wit that fall from them: they leap and play out of the water, as high as they can, but they are but Fish still: Folly is their Element, and there they must stay: I pity the poor Poets; these Creatures do but spoil our mirth, but they ruin the Poet's labours; they are to them, as the Fox is to the Badger, when the Badger has with great pains scratched himself a hole, the Fox comes and stinks him out of it: But enough of this.— Come, to the business in hand; however 'tis in other affairs, I am for reducing Love to the state of Nature: I am for no propriety, but every man get what he can: however Invasion in this case I am sure is lawful; when a pretty young woman lies in the possession of an old Fellow, like a fair fertile Province under the Dominion of the Turk, uncultivated and unenjoyed, no good Christian but aught to make War upon him:— that mine is a kind of Holy War, and I deserve a Benediction: And so my Musical Pilgrims, to your Arms.  Mer. 
Sir, you will make the jealous old Lord cut the pretty Creatures throat.  Ramb. 
Oh Sir, he loves his divertisement too well for that: like an old Cat that has been a good Mouser in his time, he loves his prey, though it be but to Mew over it:— but look, I see a light.  Mer. 
I here her voice too;— I am sure 'tis hers.  Ramb. 
She's coming to the window:—  
Rogues, run and light your Flambaux, or call (to his Footmen. a Link, that she may see me.  Mer. 
Up so late!  Ramb. 
Ay, poor creature, she like the rest of her Sex can have no rest in this world, neither with a man, nor without a man; not with a man, for if he be young, he lets her have no rest; if he be old, she lets him have no rest: and without a man, to rest is impossible: So poor souls they have no rest in this life:— Hark, they are loud; let's listen.  Lord Drybone, Betty Frisque, and Ciss, come to the window. Lord Dr. 
What do you come to the window for? come to bed, I say.  Betty. 
I will not come to bed.  Lord Dr. 
Will you still be thus humoursome?  Betty. 
Yes that I will.  Lord Dr. 
Come, you are a proud, silly, whimsical, inconsiderable, fantastical Jilt.  Betty. 
Come, you are a weak trifling old no-man.  Ramb. 
Oh admirable! this is a Serenade to me.  Lord Dr. 
How dare you talk thus to a man of my Quality?  Betty. 
What care I for your Quality: do you think I am in love with a Patent? 'tis a man, and not a piece of Parchment, that I value.  Ramb. 
A very wit, as I live.  Cis. 
Pray Madam do not anger my Lord so.  Lord Dr. 
Do you know who I am, that you dare say this?  Betty. 
Yes, I know you to be a thing with a Title; or rather nothing with a Title: your Lordship is Titular, your Manhood is Titular, and every thing Titular but you Money; and your substantial Money compounds for your Titular Person.  Lord Dr. 
Do you twit me i'th' teeth with my bounty to you? forgive the fault, Mrs. Elizabeth Frisque, I shall be penitent and reform.  Betty. 
I doubt not your penitence and reformation: I shall have some Ambassadors from Guiney to morrow to treat of a Peace; the King's Image in Gold, must make satisfaction for the faults committed by the Image of a Subject.  Ramb. 
The most admirable Tongue-fencer I have heard, he cannot get a hit of her.  Lord Dr. 
You are very civil, Mrs. Elizabeth:— To show how damnably I shall frustrate your expectations, I this night put an end to your reign: your way of livelihood is much after the mode of the Tartars; when you have grazed all you can in one Province, you seek out a new one: and so prepare to morrow for fresh Forage.  Betty. 
My way of living with you has been much after the mode of the Tartars, for I have tasted since I came nothing but Horseflesh; and fresh Forage I will seek to morrow.  Lord Dr. 
And so you shall.  Ex. Lord Dr. Mer. 
Do you hear, Sir? the fair Falcon will have her Hood and her Bells pulled off tomorrow, and set to fly at liberty.  Ramb. 
I hear: I want but a light to Lure her down on my fist: where stay my loitering Rogues?  Mer. 
I am afraid 'tis so late there's not a light to be got.  Betty. 
Come Sis, I'll go lie with thee.  Sis. 
Why do you vex my Lord so, Madam?  Betty. 
This is the discipline I keep him under: not a syllable he speaks to night, but shall cost him dearer than printing a Book in Folio: he shall be glad tomorrow to tie me and all my things in my Chamber with Point de Venice, and barricado me with Stones as rich as the Philosophers-Stone, and Mortar of Ambergreese.  Sis. 
Well, I swear 'tis a rare thing to be an absolute Prince, and have rich Subjects; Oh how one may Pill 'em and Poll 'em.  Exeunt. Ramb. 
Oh dull Rogue that I am! I have stayed till she's gone; gone, as I live, the window is shut and all dark: strike up, you Rogues, and retrieve her; never stay for Tuning.— She does not come yet:— scrape as loud as you can, make your Cat-guts squeak as loud as a Consort of Catterwaulers would at the roasting of one:— she's gone to bed, I'm ruined:— Sing, join all your throats and bawl; beat a Travalley on the Drums of their ears.— I hear some body at the window, 'tis she I hope: now be more melodious, lest you fright her hence.  (Lord Drybone peeps out of the window. Lord Dr. 
Music at my door at this time o' night! Now I shall discover my Gentlewoman's Intrigues: 'twas for this she came to the window: I'll listen to try if I can find out any mystery by their Song, and then steal to the door, and see who they are.  

SONG.  

A Pox of impertinent Age,  
The pleasures of Youth to invade;  
The Cheat who has long been broke,  
Has impudence still to Trade.  
Awaken fair Celia betimes,  
Before thy sweet Youth's undone;  
Come sow thy delights in a breast  
Will yield thee a hundred for one.   

I bring thee hot Youth and Love,  
Come mingle thy fires with mine;  
We'll serve to the night for Stars,  
And make 'em ashamed to shine.  
Come down to my plentiful feast,  
Lie picking o'bones no more,  
The scraps of a dish ill dressed,  
And the leave of many a Whore.    As they have done singing, enter Sir Thomas Rash in a Buffcoat, with a long Sword by his side, followed by two or three Footmen with long Swords. Sir Tho. 
Where is this Ramble and his Fiddles?  1 Footm. 
I heard 'em, an't like your worship, but just now hereabouts.  Sir Tho. 
How shall I know they are his?— a company of Rogues, to lay my Buffcoat out of the way, that I have lost Ramble while I have been looking my Coat:— and you, Sirrah, to let your Torch go out.  (to one of the Footmen. Ramb. 
What an unlucky Puppy am I? she does not look out yet.  1 Footm. 
Sir, Sir, an't like your worship I see a heap of men at yonder door, I believe they are they.  Sir Tho. 
How shall I know that, Sirrah?— come along, I'll listen, and hear what they talk of: if it be Ramble, I'll Ramble him, I'll teach him to come Rambling and Rumbling after my daughter.  2 Footm. 
O'my conscience 'tis he, Sir; for I heard the Fiddles hereabout.  Sir Tho. 
Hold your tongue, you Puppy.  (listens. Enter Lord Drybone in his Nightgown, with a Sword in his hand. Lord Dr. 
So, they are here still: I was afraid they were gone: now shall I discover who they are.  (goes behind them and peeps. Mer. 
She is gone to bed, Sir; she will not come out no more to night.  Ramb. 
How unlucky was this?  Sir Tho. 
I have found him, I'faith;— that's Ramble's voice, and that's my daughter they talk of: she has promised to come out to him, it seems:— here's brave do, I'll make some body smart:— Rogues, be ready when I give the word:— Let me peep whereabouts he is.  (Sir Tho. peeps. Lord Dr. 
So, so, they expect her to streal out:— Oh brave whore!— who can this be?— let me peep:— a fellow in a Buffcoat;— and by what I can per-ceive and old fellow too:— What has she Intrigues with Hector's, and old Hectors! methinks an old Rich Lord, should be as good as an old poor Hector.  Peeps about Sir Tho. and Sir Tho. about Lord Dr. Sir Tho. 
Ha! in his Nightgown! just ready to chop to bed to her when she comes: they have made a match to lie together here to Night: Oh sweet virtuous Madam Christina! I have bred you up to fine purpose! I'll stay till you come, to give my blessing on you both together.  Mer. 
Come, Sir, you had as good go to your repose; the jealous old Coxcomb does so watch her water, that she cannot get out.  Lord Dr. 
The jealous old Coxcomb! Oh brave! what Rogue is this?  Sir Tho. 
The jealous old Coxcomb! Sirrah, your throat shall be cut for this.  Ramb. 
Pox on him for me, he has made me lose a Night-fatigue.  Lord Dr. 
Pox on him!  Sir Tho. 
Pox on him! yes, I'll give you five thousand pound with my daughter to bid a Pox on me,— I will.  Mer. 
Sir, Sir, whate'er the business is, the door is open: if you will I'll enter softly, and see what it means.  Ramb. 
Do, oh do, prithee dear Merry! Oh Heaven grant—  Lord Dr. 
Stealing to the door!  (Lord Drybone gets betwixt Merry and the door. 
Who's there?  (He gives Merry a box o'th' ear. Mer. 
A Friend.  (Merry strikes him again. Lord Dr. 
Ho, Peter, George, ho, my people, ho!  Sir Tho. 
Are you quarrelling amongst yourselves? I'll make one among you: — Ramble,— where are you, Ramble? I'll Ramble you:— Fall on.  Ramb. 
Sir Thomas Rash's voice, I'm ruined, Retreat, Retreat.  (Ramble and Merry retreat, followed by Sir Tho. 
Rash 's men: the Fiddlers run several ways.  Sir Tho. 
Ramble is my man:— and here he is:— are you running into your Castle, Sir?  (Lay hold on Lord Dryb. Lord Dr. 
George, Peter, George!  Sir Tho. 
Oh, you change your voice, Sir, now I am come, do you? 'tis not George, not St. George shall help you now, Sir: I'll teach you to make a whore of my daughter, Sir.  Lord Dr. 
How! her Father here! is this old Hector her Father!— make a whore of your daughter, Sir! your daughter was a whore before I had any thing to do with her.  Sir Tho. 
Oh horrid, she's Common! however I will have my penny worths out of you.  Lord Dr. 
Murder, murder; George, Peter, Thomas, Rogues, come help me!  Enter Lord Drybone 's men. 〈…〉 Footm. 
My Lord assaulted!  Sir Tho. 
Murder, murder; Andrew, Nicholas, Will, Rogues, come help me!  Enter Ramble and Merry fight with Sir Tho. 's men. Ramb. 
Sir Thomas calls out murder.  Sir Th. Foot. 
My Master thereabouts!  (Sir Tho. 's men run away from Ramble, and fall on Lord Drybone. Lord Dr. 
Ho, the Watch! a Constable, a Constable!  (Lord Drybone runs in calling Constable, whilst all the rest fight helter skelter. Enter Constable and Watch. Const. 
Knock 'em down, knock 'em down;—  (The Watch knock the Servants down. 
Seize that man, and that man, and bring 'em before me.  (Watch seizeth Sir Tho. and Ramble. 
Who are you? what are you? come before me:— Sir Thomas Rash! and Squire Ramble!— I know you both: What's the meaning of this, Gentlemen? a man of your worship, Sir Thomas, to be a fight in the Streets o' this time o' night! fie upon it: and Squire, you use to be more civil.  Ramb. 
Sir Thomas, I am glad to see you so well: I hope you have got no hurt:— who was it quarrelled with you?  Sir Tho. 
Oh fine fellow! he has got his clothes on already, to put a cheat upon me; and the better to promote it, pretends he knows nothing of the quarrel:— No, Sir, no, I have got no hurt.  Ramb. 
I am glad of it with all my heart.  Sir Tho. 
To make a whore of my daughter, is no hurt to me.  (aside. Ramb. 
I was very fortunate to pass by.  Sir Tho. 
And so was I to discover this Roguery.  (aside. Const. 
This is like Gentlemen; now I commend you: Come Gentlemen, you are both my Friends; I will convey you safe home with my Fleet of Lanterns, and let's be merry as we go: the man in the Moon and I are Dukes of Midnight: give a spill to my Watch, and my Grace shall drink your health in Claret.  Sir Tho. 
Less of your wit, and more of your office, Mr. Constable; I will have Revenge, though I put my daughter in Bridewell: seize that Gentleman, Mr. Constable.  Ramb. 
Me, Sir, for what? you are in some mistake: I came to your assistance.  Sir Tho. 
Seize him, I say.  Ramb. 
What's the meaning of this?  Sir Tho. 
You shall know the meaning presently.  Const. 
Come, come Gentlemen, pray let us make you Friends.  Ramb. 
Sir, there was never any enmity betwixt us: there is no man in the world that I am more Servant to then Sir Thomas Rash.  Sir Tho. 
Yes, Sir, I know what service you do me: and you shall have your wages: seize us both, I say, and carry us before the next Justice of Peace.  Const. 
I am sorry for this, I'faith Gentlemen.  Ramb. 
Sir Thomas, there need be no seizing, I'll wait upon you: Mr. Constable, if you please you may let me walk at liberty, I will engage my Honour to you, I will wait on Sir Thomas Rash wherever he pleases to command me.  Sir Tho. 
No thanks to you, Sir, I'll make you do it: I'll try if there be Law against such lewd do as these are: bring him along here.  (walks before in haste. Const. 
What have you done, Squire, to Sir Thomas? he is a hasty choleric man.  Ramb. 
I have only hindered him from having his throat cut; if he be angry at that, I cannot help it.  Mer. 
What Devil brought this old Fellow hit her? and what ails him?  A noise within of drunken Eullies, who enter with their Swords drawn, roaring. Om. Eul. 
Hay, hay, scour! scour!  1 Bul. 
An honest Gentleman going to prison.  Om. Bul. 
Rogues, Rogues.  (The Bullies fight, and beat the Watch; all go off scuffling and roaring.   

ACT. III.  

SCENE, The Street.  Enter Ramble. Ramb. 
I Am beholden to the honest drunken Bullies, that procured my liberty from these Night-Corsairs and Algerines' called the Watch, that Pickaroon up and down in the Streets, and will not let an honest Christian Vessel, laden with Burgundy, sail by: but I was little beholden to Fortune, to stand in need of their help: I do not like the adventure with this choleric old Father-in-law of mine; a Pox of the formal Coxcombs for me, that invented the Rules of Manners and Civility, and Foolery:— I must endure the humours of this old fellow, only because he clubbed to the Production of the fair Christina; as if a man were bound in civility to stand under the droppings of a Conduit all days on's life, because once at a Coronation it ran Claret, and he was drunk with it.  Enter Merry and Isabel vizarded. Mer. 
Sir, Sir, I have the most glorious news for you!  Ramb. 
Ha! quick, quick; thou firest me,— what is it?  Mer. 
A most delicate young Lady, wife to a person of very great Quality, has been sick for you these six months; and her Husband happening this night to be out of Town, she has sent her woman for you.  Isab. 
O why did you say so, Sir? I told you I stole out o' my own head, out of pity to her: she knows nothing of it.  Ramb. 
No, no, she knows nothing of it to my knowledge.  Isab. 
I know when I bring him she will kill me: but I had rather she should kill me, than Love should kill her.  Ramb. 
I will save both your lives, dear creature, lead me quickly to her before her disease grows desperate.  Isab. 
Well Sir, you must send your man away; nor must you know whither you go:— dear, what am I going to do?  Ramb. 
Come along, sweet Rogue: — Merry, to your own affairs.  Exit Ramble & Isabel. Mer. 
I have a cursed itch to be following 'em, and see whither they go:— they are gotten into Chairs, and the Rogues are in their Trot:— Now they have turned the corner:— Let 'em go, I'll to my own honest conscientious Matrimonial affairs.  Exit. Enter two Chairs; The Scene a Room: The Chairs are set down, and Ramble and Isabel vizarded come out of them. Isab. 
I have brought you thus far, Sir; but Heaven knows how to lead you any further: my wit is here at an end: I dare not for my life introduce you:— Cannot you pretend some mistake or other?  Ramb. 
A thousand, a thousand:— I will pretend some Mistress of mine had newly changed her Lodging, and I mistook this for it.  Isab. 
That will be excellent: I see you want no wit upon these occasions:— But will you be faithful to my Lady's honour, Sir, and not trust your Man, nor any Friend you have, with a secret of such importance?  Ramb. 
I will cut out my tongue if I talk of it but in a dream.  Isab. 
Dear Sir, do: well, stay but a little bit of a minute, whilst I run in and see in what humour my Lady is, and I will come back and show her Chamber.  Exit Isab. Ramb. 
Ten thousand thanks, my dear, dear Providore.— Sent for by a young handsome Lady, (so her Instrument says she is) to supply not only the absence, but defects of a Husband: Let me see, what ready Love have I about me? I should come off blewly now, if I should not have enough, but be forced to cheat her of one half of the reckoning:— No matter, she is rightly served to surprise me so; she ought to have given me fair warning, and not have drawn so great a Bill as this on me, to be paid at sight: she might well think, I that am such a constant Trader, cannot have much money in Bank: Ay, but she is in Love; and Love is blind, one may put a false piece of Coin on him now and then, especially after I have paid him a great sum, he will not be so scrupulous.— Well, I am a Catholic man of strange universal use, I ought to have a Pension for the public service I do the State; but though I am an excellent Subject, I am a traitorous Lover; how like a barbarous villain do I use that divine Creature Mrs. Christina? if I were fifty Rambles bound together, I had not merit enough for her Love; and I, though I am but one, yet parcel myself out every minute to fifty women: yet 'tis not for want of love to her, for the enjoyment of other women, give me not so much delight as a smile from her: and yet, I gad, the enjoyment of her would not keep me from the chase of other women:— Here am I raving mad after a woman, only tickled with an Image in my own fancy, of a young, pretty, melting, twining, burning Creature, who for aught I know may be only an old, ugly, lecherous Succuba, like a burning Hill, with snow on her top, and fire in her guts; and has enchanted me to her embraces with a delicate young amorous Picture, put in my head: No, no, it cannot be; if she were ugly, she would not have the impudence to send for me; nay she would not have the impudence to Love: No, no, she must be handsome, ay and extremely handsome too:— Let me see, what kind of woman may she be? she has a large rolling smiling black eye, full of fire; a round sweet juicy melting lip, full of blood; even small Ivory teeth; full, round, white, hard breasts; a small strait delicate shape; a white little hand, inclining to be moist; a little neat foot; her stature middling:— Ay, this is she, I know her as well as if I were married to her; I am sure 'tis she,— I gad I am passionately in Love with her.— Oh my dear Envoy, come back quickly with full Commission from thy Lady, or I shall fall into a Fever:— Come, come, come:— here she is, here she is;— my dear, let's go, let's go, let's go;— show me the way, show me the way, my dear Scout, for my forces are all up in arms, and they will charge in spite of my teeth, I cannot hold 'em in.  Enter Isabel. Isab. 
Ah Sir, be gone, be gone, or I shall be ruined, be killed; I gave my Lady (to try what she would say) but a little hint, not of your being here, but only said, what if I could bring you hither? or so; and she ran distracted:— I thought she would have died: I never saw one in such a passion in my life: Oh Sir, there is no hope; she is so tender of her honour, that it is impossible to come at her.  Ramb. 
What dost thou say? thou torturest me! wrack'st me! killest me!— 'tis impossible to come at her!— 'tis impossible not to come at her:— I am all o' fire; and I must go, will go.—  Isab. 
Oh Sir, what do you mean? do you bear me malice? have you a mind I should be killed?  (holds him. Ramb. 
I love thee, next thy Lady, above all the creatures in the world:— I will take all upon myself, and pretend I came in by mistake; and no creature shall know any thing.  Isab. 
Oh Sir, she will know it all to be a mere invented story, a flame, for I have the keys of all the doors, and no body can come in but by my consent.  Ramb. 
Oh but you left open the door to night by accident.  Isab. 
Oh no, no, Sir, I shut 'em, and told her I shut 'em; and was more careful than ordinary to night, because of his Lordships being abroad, and few Servants in the house.  Ramb. 
A Pox o● the doors— I must go in,— I will go in,— I cannot but go in.  Isab. 
Have you a mind I should be killed?— do you thirst after my blood?  Ramb. 
I will protect both thy life and honour.  Isab. 
But Sir, you cannot, my Lady will call up all the Footmen in the house.  Ramb. 
Then I will call up one of my seet, and kick 'em all down stairs.  Isab. 
Oh I beseech you,— I entreat you.  (falls down and holds his leg, he drags her. Ramb. 
Dear creature, I cannot forbear: I am a certain Steed that am used to leap into other men's grounds; and I must leap, though with a Clog at my foot.  Isab. 
Oh Sir, Sir, let me but go in and settle my countenance, that I may appear as if I knew nothing of the Plot; do but do that for me.  Ramb. 
Ay with all my heart, dear Rogue:— I will do any thing that's Reason:—  (Isabella runs in. 
In what a heat am I! this looks like a trick in this Slut to make me so fierce and ravenous, that like a hungry Lion I shall pray at last on her my keeper.  Enter Isabel. 
Now, my dear!  Isab. 
Oh Sir, ruined, ruined, my Lady has overheard all our talk, and is ready to fall into fits: I am undone, undone.  Ramb. 
Is she in fits?— I am the only man at fits in the world.  Isab. 
Oh Sir, you cannot get to her, she has locked herself in her Chamber; and if you offer any violence, she will call out to the Neighbours.  Ramb. 
A Pox on her for falling in Love with me, and o' thee for telling me: find out some way of making an Interview betwixt us, or open wars will break out, and I will march to her Frontiers.  Isab. 
I cannot find out one, though I should break my brain with study.  Ramb. 
Then keep thy brain whole, and I will break the door.  Isab. 
Hold Sir, hold Sir, since it must be so, I have thought of one: say after me as loud as she may hear you, for her Chamber is but hard by, and we will see what that will do:— Excuse me, Mrs. Andrews, for forcing myself so rudely into your Lady's house.  (she speaks softly. Ramb. 
Excuse me, Mrs. Andrews, for forcing myself so rudely into your Lady's house.  (he speaks loud. Isab. 
It is an invincible passion which I have for your Lady.  Ramb. 
It is an invincible passion which I have for your Lady.  Isab. 
I must speak with her now my Lord's abroad.  Ramb. 
I must speak with her now my Lord's abroad.  Isab. 
If she will ruin her reputation and be obstinate she may.  Ramb. 
If she will ruin her reputation and be obstinate she may.  Isab. 
For I die if I do not see her.  Ramb. 
For I die if I do not see her.  Isab. 
Now let me run and see how this has wrought: I must call to her through the keyhole.  (Exit Isabel, calls within Madam. Ramb. 
This Jade has heated me till I am all in a foam.  Enter Isabel. Isab. 
This has done good:— since her Honour would be wholly ruined if there should be any hubbub made, to preserve her Honour, my Lady consents to admit you.  Ramb. 
Oh sweet Rogue!  Isab. 
Not so fast, Sir; you must swear not to divulge any thing.  Ramb. 
Ay, ay, I swear! what else?  Isab. 
I must run and tell her:—  (she goes out, and comes in immediately.) 
And you must swear not to see her, or call for a light, or draw the windows or Curtains.  Ramb. 
I swear, I swear.  Isab. 
I'll run and tell her:—  (Exit, and enter immediately.) 
And you must swear not to talk to her, or at least compel her to talk, to guests who she is by her voice.  Ramb. 
I swear I will not give her leisure to talk; I will employ her tongue otherwise.  (Exit Isabel, and enters.) Isab. 
And you must swear not to touch her.  Ramb. 
Nay then I shall be articled out of all: I will keep my past Articles, but I will not make one Article more.  Isab. 
Well then, since it must be so, follow me,— follow me softly;— softly, that none of the Servants may hear.— Hold Sir, to let you see what an extraordinary esteem my Lady has of you, she will trust you with her Honour, and discover the beautiful Empire which your victorious charms have conquered:— See, Sir, this is the wounded Lady.  The Scene is drawn, and discovers Christina. Ramb. 
Christina! am I betrayed? Oh for an art to walk away invisible.  Chris. 
Whither, whither, cruel Sir, are you conveying my felicity away, now I have taken such pains to attain it? Oh use not that Empire Nature has given you over poor women's hearts too tyrannically! consider we are poor soft loving things, and a little cruelty will kill us; have pity on a poor Lady that dies for you, and is forced to descend from the modesty of her Sex, to Court you to a minute's conversation, at an hour when the rest of the happy world enjoy some their Loves, some their Repose, and all are at ease but poor me.  Ramb. 
Jade, you will pay for this:—  (to Isab. 
Nothing can help me now but impudence:— So, Madam, you think you have put a fine trick on me now, you think you have catched me.  Chris. 
I warrant you knew of the plot.  Ramb. 
I warrant you think I did not.  Chris. 
Why did you?  Ramb. 
Did I! a likely matter that I should not know Isabella's voice.  Chris. 
Why thou prodigy of impudence, darest thou impose such a falsehood as this on me? I believed thee against the Reports of the whole world, which long since assured me of thy baseness; but dost thou think I will believe thee against the testimony of my eyes too? know I this minute tear thee out o' my heart, and after this never see me more.  Ramb. 
Ha', ha', what shall we jest till we quarrel?  Enter a Servant running. Seru. 
Madam, Madam, here's your Father a coming; it seems he missed you out of your Lodging, and is coming in a great rage to see if you be here.  Ramb. 
Ah what will he say if he catch me here? let me be gone, make room, make room.  Ramble creeps away at one door, enter at another Sir Tho. Rash. Sir Tho. 
So, Maid, have I found you out o'doors? go.  Chris. 
Who do you speak to, Sir?  Sir Tho. 
To the corruption of my blood, to the disease of my soul, to the filth of my house, to the putrefaction of my honour; a blot which my Sword should this instant scrape out of being, if the rent could be hid from the eyes of the world, or all the dust of the Grave conceal thee.  Chris. 
Oh heaven!  Sir Tho. 
Speak not, thy voice is more horrid to me then the groans of a Mandrake; thy sight more odious than a Monster; no sense of mine will endure to hold communication with thee.  Isab. 
hay, hay! all this for an innocent frolic.  Sir Tho. 
For a Frolic! and an innocent Frolic! Oh the incomprehensible Impudence of the Age! Lewdness is a Frolic, and abomination Innocence! Oh sweet world, how art thou set with thy heels upwards since I knew thee!— Virtue and honesty were Innocence, when I first came into thee; but now filthiness is Innocence, and Hell and the Devil a Frolic! Oh that the Gout or a Greenland Frost had seized the fingers of the Destinies, ere they had spun out my thread to such a Frolicksome Age.  Chris. 
Good Sir, why do you disorder yourself, and afflict me, with these causeless transports? I know not the sense of your discourse; your language has to me no meaning; they are words never entered into my ears before; 'tis all distraction to me.  Sir Tho. 
Oh you are for the substance, and not the Picture in words and phrases:— I'll tell you my meaning more plainly: Then know, Mrs. Innocence, you are naught, you have been naught with Ramble; he owned it, confessed it, boasted it to me, to my face, to my throat, with his tongue, with his Sword; he said you had been lewd with him, and that you had been lewd before ever he touched you.  Chris. 
Oh—  (she 'swounds. Isab. 
She 'swounds, she 'swounds, help, help!  Sir Tho. 
Let her die; would she had died in the Cradle, in the womb, that she might never have brought this shame and vexation to me.  Isab. 
She has not, she did not; none can say it, none did say it, none dare say it; or if they did, they lie, Ramble lies, and you lie, and you are all liars, and should an Angel from Heaven say it, I would say he were a liar, and that she has more Innocence than he.  Sir Tho. 
You are her procurer, and now will be her maintainer, will you?— out o'doors.  Isab. 
In this condition!— you are a natural Father.  Sir Tho. 
She's none of my daughter; her whole mass o'blood, her whole body, her whole soul is changed.  Isab. 
She is thy honour, thy glory.  Sir Tho. 
Then Infamy follow me henceforward!— Go, I say.  Isab. 
She shall not go, I will defend her whilst I have a nail, or a tooth.  Sir Tho. 
Nay then drag 'em hence; he that (to his Footmen. refuses I'll drag to the Devil:— Go, to (they thrust them out. Ramble with her,— and after six months' iniquity, when his beastly Appetite is galloped to his Journeys end, and is tired with whipping and spurring so long in the dirt, then to the Bawdy-houses, and Common shops of Lewdness with her, and so to the Pox and Beggary, and so to Rottenness and the Grave, and so to the Devil;— an admirable Journey,— go.— Now will I with all speed to the Writ-office, and take a Writ to arrest my Lady Faddle in an Action of a Thousand Pound, for breach of Articles: Sir Mannerly was by Covenant to be in Town, and the Marriage to be completed, four days ago; he is not come, my daughter is debauched, my Family dishonoured, and all by means of their breach of Articles: it is not a Thousand Pound can make me Reparation, I will not abate one farthing of what the Law will give me; and I will also have a pluck with that worthy Gentleman Mr. Ramble, I will try if there be no Law against inveigling young women to lewdness and naughtiness: 'tis more than break of day; I'll go get the Writ and Bailiffs, and see it served myself in person, before she is up, my Bummers shall have her in bed.  Exit.  

SCENE, Lord Drybone 's House.  Enter the Lord Drybone. Lord Dr. 
Get my Coach ready, quickly.  (speaks within. 
How now, what rumbling's that? — Sis.  (a noise within. Enter Sis. Sis. 
My Lord.  Lord Dr. 
What's the rumbling within?  Sis. 
Nothing, my Lord, but my lady's packing up her things to be gone, as you warned her last night.  Lord Dr. 
I had forgot it; is she so capricious with me? I'll stay her, if it be but to cross her.  (Goes out and reenters immediately, pulling in Betty Frisque, followed by a Porter with a Trunk.) 
Sirrah, set down the Trunk.  (to the Porter. Betty. 
Sirrah, carry down the Trunk.  Lord Dr. 
Sirrah, set it down, or I'll kick you down stairs.  Betty. 
Sirrah, carry it down, or I'll break your neck down stairs.  Lord Dr. 
Sirrah, stay a while, or I'll run my Sword into you:— since you are so humoursome, Gentlewoman, take your choice, your Trunks shall go and you shall stay, or you shall go and your Trunks shall stay: if I have not paid dear enough for you to have you be mine, I am sure I have bought and paid enough for all that is in the Trunks, to dispose of them.  Betty. 
Well, and I think I have paid dear enough for those things, in enduring all your cross jealous peevish humours.  Lord Dr. 
What jealous humours? I love you too well, that's my fault.  Betty. 
Yes, indeed you love me very well, not to let me breathe so much as a mouthful of fresh air once in a month, and at home not to enjoy an hour of quiet.  Lord Dr. 
Yes indeed, I should do wisely to let you take the fresh air, as you call it; you never go to a Play, but you fall in Love with some young fellow; you never go to Hyde-park, but you are enamoured with some rich gilt Coach; you never go to the Exchange, but you have a violent passion for some rich Point of forty or fifty pounds' value; that the Air is a dear Element to me: your fresh Air costs me all my Earth almost.  Betty. 
I fall in Love with some young fellow! I deny your words, I defy you or any one in England to prove the least falsehood in me to you, since I have known you: and for the gilt Coaches and Points, I have no more than what is convenient and necessary; I am sure other women cost other men twice as much as I cost you: here are some that I can name, come to visit me in a morning sometimes with the richest Points, and the gloriousest Petticoats, would dazzle one's eyes to see 'em: I am sure the faces of some of 'em, had need of 'em; their beauties are like those of a Peacock, all in their shining tails.  Lord Dr. 
Well, there's none of 'em all should outshine you, if you would be good-humoured.  Betty. 
I do not know what you call good-humoured; if I had not the patience of a Saint, I am sure I could not bear with your humours.  Lord Dr. 
Well, well, say no more, I hate this wrangling: have you any business at the Exchange this morning? I am sending George thither.  Betty. 
No, not I  Lord Dr. 
Prithee give over these frumps, and fooleries; now I think on't, that Point you was offered for forty pound was a good pennyworth, I'll send for it.  Betty. 
You may and you will, but I'll ha' none on't.  Lord Dr. 
Shall he call at the jewellers as he goes by, for the Locket you had a mind to.  Betty. 
What you will: not for me.  Lord Dr. 
And well remembered, I will make him bring Mr. Draw-well the Limner along with him; I take it ill of him, he has promised me to come any time this fortnight, and put me off from time to time, and yesterday he promised to be here this morning: I will make him come and draw thee in these frumpish humours, that thou mayst see how ill they become thee.  Betty. 
He may come if he will, but I won't sit.  Lord Dr. 
Nor have any occasion for the Point, or the Jewels.  Betty. 
No.  Lord Dr. 
Then George may spare his labour:— well, good morrow.  Betty. 
Good morrow.  (he offers to go, and she stops him. 
Well, the duce take you, what ails me to be so fond of nine and fifty? what have you done to bewitch me?  she claps him on the cheek. Lord Dr. 
Ah Coke!  Betty. 
You have given me some Love potion, I am sure.  Lord Dr. 
Yes, yes, Assa-fotida,— and Garlic.  Betty. 
Confess, confess,— I could never be thus fond thus—  Lord Dr. 
Ah—  Betty. 
Blind! I am perfectly blind! I don't see a wrinkle; you appear a very Boy to me, a very Cupid.  Lord Dr. 
Oh thou notorious wheedling slut, shall I still put up such impudent abuses as these?  Betty. 
Yes, and be glad of 'em too.  Lord Dr. 
Well, Age is an abominable thing, it makes one pay dearer for the Lees, the dregs, the Vinegar of Love, than Youth does for the sweetest, briskest Juice of the Grape: Well hussey, George shall go:— I will pay the Tax you lay upon me; but 'tis hard a man should pay such devilish high Chimney-money, and never have any fire.  Betty. 
That's none of my fault, I am sure I blow oft enough.  Exeunt.  

SCENE, The Street.  Enter Sir Mannerly Shallow and Booby. Sir Man. 
Well, did one ever see the like? what a brave place is this London? it is, as the Song says, the finest City-Town that ever I saw in my life.  Boo. 
Oh 'tis a brave place!— 'tis not a City, 'tis a great Country, all o' houses.—  Sir Man. 
It is, as the Poet says, the habitation of the Gods, Hominumque Deumque.  Boo. 
What is that numque umque, an't like your worship?  Sir Man. 
Hominumque Deumque, Deumque for Deorumque, that is, of Gods and men.  Boo. 
I never heard London called numque dumque before: 'tis a brave thing to be a Schollard; how chance your worship never came to numque dumque till now, but live in the Country all this while?  Sir Man. 
Thou talk'st like an Ignoramus; but I shall not trouble myself to instruct thee:— Well, if I had known what a Gentile, what a Gallant place London was, my honourable Father should not have stayed me in the Country, though he would have married me to the finest Gentlewoman all round about, given me his Manor-house, his Park, his Fox-dogs, and the best Hunting-Nags in the Stable: neither Dogs nor Nags, no nor my Lady Mother, should have persuaded me to stay.  Boo. 
Both his and her worship were too blame, an't like your worship, for staying your worship.  Sir Man. 
For that trick as soon as ever I have married the fine Gentlewoman I come to Town to marry, for she is but a Gentlewoman till I have married her, and then she is a Lady; I say, as soon as ever I have married her, I'll stay here as long as I live, and never go into the Country again.  Boo. 
I thought your worship said you would go into the Country to sell Lubbertown Woods.  Sir Man. 
Yes, I do intent to go into the Country for that; but I'll stay here as long as I live.  Boo. 
What a brave life shall we live here in this brave place, where all the houses are as big as your worship's Manor, and all over nothing but folks!  Sir Man. 
Ay, and all Gentlefolks!— and the civilest Gentlefolks that ever I saw in my life: I no sooner came into Town, and asked for an Inn, but an ancient grave Gentleman, that I am sure must be an Officer in the Militia, Mayor of some Town, or a Knight, for he had a long great linen Scarf tied over cross his shoulders, by that I thought him a Major, or a Colonel in the Militia; but he had over that a great Silver Chain, like our Mayor's Chain, by that he should be the Mayor of some Town.  Boo. 
May be he is Mayor of a part of this City, an't like your worship, for this is too big to have but one Mayor.  Sir Man. 
Ay, but then he had on his breast a great round Silver thing, as big as the bottom of our great Silver Sugar-dish, with his Coat of Arms upon it, by that he should be some London Knight:— but one of these three I am sure he must be; and of his own accord he came to my very horse-side, showed me an Inn, and held my Stirrup in spite of my teeth whilst I lighted; I never saw such a civil person since I was born:— he made me so ashamed, that all I could say was to entreat him to do me the honour to accept of a poor Supper with me at my Inn: and Anthony Boody, do you see to find him.  Boo. 
I spoke to his worship, and he promised he would come without fail.  Sir Man. 
See that the Mutton-broath have white-bread Sippets in it, and all things be ordered handsome, as our Cookmaid used.  Boo. 
I shall, an't like your worship.  Sir Man. 
But this was not all: I had no sooner taken my leave of the ancient Gentleman, and gone to the Street-gate, but a Coachman of his own accord came and civilly tendered me a Coach to carry me.  Boo. 
The Horses were something lean, an't like your worship.  Sir Man. 
I suppose 'tis some Complementing-Coach kept o' purpose to Compliment Strangers; and abundance of Strangers coming to Town, the Horses might be worn out with much Complementing: for I perceive it is the custom here to Compliment Strangers so; for I had no sooner thanked the Coachman, given him something for his civility, and presented my service to his Master, but at least half a dozen more Complementing Coaches came up to me as hard as they could drive, to proffer their services.  Boo. 
I believe the Gentry has been told how ready your worship is at any time to lend your best Team to any Neighbour.  Sir Man. 
No, no, I saw 'em do the same to twenty more as well as myself:— well, 'tis the civilest place that ever I came in days of my birth: for I'll tell thee more, Booby, after I had gone a little way in a great broad Street, I turned into a Tavern, hard by a place they call a Park; and just as our Park is all Trees, that Park is all Houses, you cannot see so far as you can spit:— and I asked if they had any Deer in it; and they told me, Yes, but not half so many as they used to have; they used to have the best Deer in all the Town, and scarce a Venison Pastry was formerly made, that had not the Venison out of their Park: But they said the Park was now quite spoiled, and the best Deer were all gone to the other end of the Town, and those that stayed were poor Rascal Deer, not worth baking.  Boo. 
I don't wonder they are poor, an't like your worship, for I did not see a bit of Grass, except some sprinklings among the Stones, and a little mouthful here and there on the tops of houses.  Sir Man. 
I warrant the Deer here a kind of Goats, and climb on houses to browse: I had a great mind to taste 'em, and spoke for a Pastry; and they told me the strangest thing, they said their Rooms were full of cold Pasties, so big two people might sleep in one; and that if I had a mind to a Do, they would put me in a Pastry, and put a do to me.  Boo. 
Oh strange! and did your worship go into a Pastry!  Sir Man. 
No, I'll tell you what happened: just as I asked for the Do, in comes a couple of young Gentlewomen, the handsomest, finest Gentlewomen that ever I beheld, Mrs. Anne Lackwit the great Beauty of Lubbertown is nothing to 'em; and they were all over Lace, and had the finest, reddest Cheeks and Lips, that ever I saw: no ripe Cherry is so red; they were so red, that the blood came off the very outside of their Lips, and as I kissed 'em left a redness on mine.  Boo. 
Is't possible! I warrant your worship kissed 'em too hard, you made their teeth bleed, and that was the business.  Sir Man. 
No, no, it was the very blood of their Lips, that was dried on.  Boo. 
Well, I never saw the like!  Sir Man. 
No, nor I neither; for I had no sooner saluted 'em, to show my breeding, but they of their own accord took me about the neck, and kissed me as if they had been my Sisters, or as if they had known me these twenty years, that I fell so in Love with them, that i' my conscience if I had not been engaged already, I had married the handsomest of 'em before I came away.  Boo. 
Is't possible! but did not your worship ask for the great Pastry.  Sir Man. 
I should ask for victuals before Gentlewomen, should I? that were fine breeding: No, but they of their own accord were so civil as to invite me up stairs to a Pastry; and just as I was going up with them, I chanced to put my hands in my pockets, and as if the Devil had been there, my money was all flown out of my pocket, I know not how, nor whither.  Boo. 
Flown out of your worship's pocket!  Sir Man. 
I, flown out o' my pocket.  Boo. 
What of itself!  Sir Man. 
I, of itself.  Boo. 
And no body to help it!  Sir Man. 
There was no body near to help it.  Boo. 
What all!  
Sir Man All but one sixpence, that was in a corner of my pocket.  Boo. 
There must be witchcraft in this, and if I was your worship I would make that sixpence find out all the rest.  Sir Man. 
How like a fool thou talk'st; how can that sixpence find it out, when I could not find it myself, though I looked up and down in every corner o'th' house; nay the Gentlewomen were so very civil as to help me, nay would have come out to help me look it in the Streets, if I would have let them.  Boo. 
Well, this was old Goody Wrinkle-noses do, that lives on the side of your worship's Woods by Lubbertown; if I were your worship I would write down into the Country, and have her hanged.  Sir Man. 
Nay I am sure it was the Devil, for I remember as the Gentlewomen were kissing me, I felt a thing scratch in my pocket just like a Rat.  Boo. 
Nay then it was Goody Wrinkle-nose, and the Devil has brought her to Town before us: if I were your worship I would make her an example.  Sir Man. 
Nay I do intent to trounce her, for this is demonstration:— Well, but now what shall I do to find my Aunt, my Lady Faddle, for I have lost my directions; all I can remember is, that she lives in a place they call the Pall-Mall: and the Pall-Mall I find, but cannot find my Aunt's house: and she is to help me to find out my Baronet Father-in-Law, Sir Thomas Rash; where I shall find his daughter Mrs. Christina, whom I am bound in a Bond of a Thousand Pounds, with my Aunt my Lady Faddle, to marry four days ago: and my Lady Aunt writ me word, that my Baronet Father-in-Law was very angry for my not coming; and if I did not marry Mrs. Christina, and come up to day, he would take the forfeiture of the Bond.  Enter to them a Porter. Boo. 
See, an't like your worship, here comes the ancient Gentleman that you invited to Supper, that held your Horse; if he be Mayor of any part of the Town, as he looks to be, it may be he can tell whereabout your Lady Aunt lives.  Por. 
Bud, here are the Complementing people, let me get away from them.  Sir Man. 
Hold, worthy Sir; noble Sir, I do not know how to return the great favours and honours you were pleased to confer on me, who am but a Peregrine: I commanded my man Booby to entreat you to accept of a small Supper with me, not as a return, for I know you have a better Supper at home, but as it were to show how much I am obliged for all your Noble favours: Now, worthy Sir, I make bold to request you to add one favour more to all your past favours, to acquaint me if you have any acquaintance with a Lady and Aunt of mine, by name Lady Faddle.  Por. 
Well, I have plied here these forty years, and never met with such an odd sort of a Blade in my life:— who is it you ask for?  Boo. 
An Aunt of his worships, one Lady Faddle.  Por. 
I do not know her, Master, I cannot direct you.  Sir Man. 
This is strange, that no body can tell where my Lady Aunt should be.  Boo. 
I think in my conscience, an't like your worship, I have asked above a hundred folks for her, and not one knows where she should be; no nor so much as knows her worship: nay I asked all about the Neighbourhood, and the very Neighbourhood did not so much as know her worship.  Por. 
You must not think you are in the Country: People do not know one another here, that live in the same Street, nay in the same House, nay sometimes that lie in the same Bed together.  Sir Man. 
hay day! why I know all the Gentry round me in the Country, for above Twenty mile.  Por. 
Ay, but 'tis not so here.  Boo. 
How do they do not to know one another? do they do it on purpose?  Por. 
People never mind one another here, unless they have business together; but let them go as they come, and come as they go.  Sir Man. 
hay day! why I know all the Dogs and Horses in the Country that are eminent, whether I have any business with them or no.  Por. 
Ay, but you may be a Dog, or a Horse, or a Man here, no body will mind you, unless they have some concern or other with you.  Sir Man. 
hay day, I never heard the like!  Boo. 
Nor I in my life.  Sir Man. 
Then if I ask a thousand people for my Lady Aunt, there's no body knows her.  Por. 
You may ask ten thousand before you meet with one that knows her.  Sir Man. 
hay day! then I shall forfeit my Bond, for. I shall not find her to help me to find Mrs. Christina, before the Sun is set; what shall I do?  Boo. 
Your worship can prove you were come to Town, and so if you cannot find 'em, the fault is none of your worships.  Sir Man. 
Ay, but I did not think I could not find 'em, and so there is no such clause in the Bond; for I am bound to marry Mrs. Christina whether I can find her or no.  Boo. 
Then I'll tell you what your worship shall do; send for a Vicar, and say over your worship's part, and then you can prove you have done all that belongs to your worship.  Sir Man. 
I swear that's very well thought of; for now I think on't, I sealed and delivered the Bond in the Country to my Baronet Father-in-law's use, without his being present, or ever seeing of him in my life: so I will send for a Parson, and marry myself to one of you two, for Mrs. Christina's use, and this will be as good in Law as if she were present.  Boo. 
Right; for if the Marriage be not good, then how is the Bond, since they are both made after the same manner?  Sir Man. 
Right.  Por. 
Do these men Jest, or are they as errand Fools as they seem? I believe they are Fools; for I never heard such a deal of simple stuff and complementing, as I have had with them to day, since I was born.  Sir Man. 
I swear this was the best thing that ever was thought on: now do not I care whether I find my Aunt or no.  Boo. 
This old Gentleman's worship having been with you ever since your coming to Town, your worship had best ask his worship to be a witness, and see you married to me.  Sir Man. 
I can have no better witness, for he can prove all: Noble and obliging Sir,—  Per. 
Now he falls a Complementing again: I wonder he stayed so long from it: I would the Devil had his Compliments, he has made my head ache:— Hold, hold, Master, spare me for Heaven's sake; I remember my Lady Faddle, she once sent me of an Errand; your Compliments buzzled me, and put it out of my head: I know where she lives, I'll lead you to her house.  Sir Man. 
Oh Sir, what favours do you confer upon me!— But Sir, you shall not go o' foot; Booby, fetch my horses.  Por. 
Horses! my feet are my Pad-nags.  Sir Man. 
Oh Sir, you will swell your high obligations to such a—  Por. 
Swell my thighs with hobbling! no, no, hobbling is my Trade.  Sir Man. 
Well, to Cumberland commend me for Gentility, But to London for good Breeding and Civility.  Exeunt.   

ACT IU.  

SCENE I. The Street.  Enter Sir Mannerly, Booby, and Porter. Por. 
LOok you, Sir? you are now at the door?  he knocks. Sir Man. 
Oh Sir, why do you condescend to give yourself the trouble of knocking.  Enter a Servant. Por. 
Is my Lady Faddle within?  Ser. 
Who would speak with her?  Boob. 
Her Nephews-Worship, Sir Mannerly Shallow and I, are come to Town, tell her.  Sir Man. 
Presume to speak before me? where's your Manners? Sir, I am her humble Servant, Nephew, and Baronet, Sir Mannerly Shallow.  Ser. 
Oh dear Sir? are you Sir Mannerly Shallow? my Lady expected you this morning early; she will be mighty glad you are come: she is within, please to walk in, Sir, whilst I run in, and acquaint her of your coming?  Exit Servant. Sir Man. 
This is good luck? Noble Sir, I beseech you, honour me so far, as to walk in with me.  Porter. 
Oh Master what do you mean?  Sir Man. 
I beseech you, Sir.  Boob. 
Come, pray your Worship, walk in.  Por. 
What do these People mean?  Sir Man. 
Nay, but Sir, I am to be married to night, and I swear I will not Marry, if you will not Grace my Nuptials with your Presence; therefore, Sir, if your affairs call you away now, yet promise me, on your Honour, that the joys of my Marriage, shall be increased with the happiness of your company; your Presence will be the Principal Dish at my Feast.  Por. 
He means to dish me up, well Master, if you want any body to wait, and go of Errands, I'll promise you I'll come.  Sir Man. 
Your most humble Servant, I will not rest, till I requite your Civilities.  Por. 
What odd kind of contrived Men are these.  Ex. Por. Sir Man. 
Booby, Do you carry yourself well now, before my Lady Aunt, and do not disparage me, observe what I do, and then you'll do finely.  Exeunt. Enter Lady Faddle, Bridget, and Servant. Scene, Lady Faddles House. La. Fad. 
My Nephew come? this is good news, where is he? introduce him speedily.  Exit Ser. Enter Sir Mannerly, and Booby. 
Sweet Nephew:  She runs forward to salute him, he still goes backward, and Compliments. Sir Man. 
Honourable Aunt! The extreme Joys and Felicities of your Society, which a long Parenthesis of time has interrupted, but now Time, as it were penitent—  Still runs back. Lady Fad. 
Why dost not salute me, Nephew?  Sir Man. 
Yes Madam, as soon as ever I have done my Compliments.  La. Fad. 
Oh, thou shouldst salute the first thing thou dost.  Sir Man. 
Yes Madam, but a Salute being a kind of a Present, or rather Tribute to a Lady, and as one would not present an empty Purse for Tribute to a Princess, so neither an empty Mouth to a Lady, but as full of Rich and Golden Compliments, as it could hold.  La. Fad. 
This is witty to extremity, I swear; Salute me, that I may be at leisure to praise thee.  Sir Man. 
Your most Humble Servant, Aunt.  (He salutes her. Boob. 
Your Worship's most Humble Servant.  Offers to salute La. Fad. Sir Man. 
How now Saucebox, kiss my Aunt?  Boob. 
Did not your Worship bid me observe what you did?  Sir Man. 
Did I bid you kiss Ladies of quality?  La. Fad. 
What rude fellow's this?  Sir Man. 
Forgive him Aunt— 'tis his want of breeding.  La. Fad. 
Well, Bridget.  Bridg. 
Madam?  La. Fad. 
Bid John run with all speed, to Sir Thomas Rash; and acquaint him my Nephew is come, and run to my Milliners, for my Gloves, and Essences, and run to the Exchange, and run to my Coach-makers for my new Harness, and run for my new Tower, and run—  Bridg. 
I shall run, Madam, to bid him run, or otherwise the poor fellow will be made to run all over the Town.  La. Fad. 
Well Nephew, thou wilt enjoy to night, a delicate Lady, I have so exalted thee to her, with exuberant praises, that it will require a great expense of Wit and Breeding, to maintain the Glorious Character I have given thee: Come, give me an account how thou hast spent thy time? how hast thou improved those Documents, and Rudiments of good Breeding, which I instilled into thee.—  Sir Man. 
Oh Madam, I have improved every Document, not a slip of a Rudiment your Ladyship Set, but is grown up to a Flower. Indeed, my Father did all he could to spoil me; he would let me read nothing in his life-time, but Law-Books, Cook upon Littleton, and Books of Reports, and Judges Reports, and I read Reports and Reports so long, till it was reported I was a Fool.  Boob. 
Ay, but your Worship now reads Comedy Books, and Prodigy Books.  Sir Man. 
Tragedy Books thou meanest, ay, and Songs, and Verses, and Drolleries, Covent-Garden Drollery, Westminster Drollery, and Windsor Drollery.  La. Fad. 
Very well, This is as to the accomplishment of the Mind; but now to the External Ornaments of the Body, as Dancing, Singing.  Sir Man. 
Oh, I have had Dancing-Masters, Fencing-Masters, and Singing-Masters.  La. Fad. 
Ay, those Masters must make thee fit to be a Servant to Lady's.  Sir Man. 
I can Dance Corantoes and Jigs, and Sarabands.  Boob. 
And Hornpipes.  La. Fad. 
Canst thou Rise well?  Sir Man. 
In a morning, Madam.  Boob. 
His Worship gets up by break of day.  La. Fad. 
No, Rise high in Dancing, if you will rise high in Lady's favours here, you must rise high in Dancing, that is to say, Dance loftily.  Sir Man. 
Oh, I can Dance very loftily.  Boob. 
The country says, his worship carries himself too loftily.  La. Fad. 
Make an Essay of a lofty Dance.  (Sir Mannerly Sings and Jumps. 
Very Graceful, I swear, and very lofty.  Boob. 
Oh; his Worship will jump like any Jack-Daw, that has but one wing cut.  Sir Man. 
Jack-Daw, firrah? done't you make such saucy comparisons.  La. Fad. 
Well Nephew, thou wilt kill a great many Ladies this Winter, those Heels will advance thee, thou wilt jump into Preferment; I see a witty Man is good for any thing; one would wonder thou shouldst jump so high, with such a weighty Brain in thy Head.  Boob. 
As heavy as a Pail of Milk.  La. Fad. 
Thou art ingenious at both ends, both thy Head and thy Heels; its rare for one to be witty, more than at one end; well Nephew, thou wilt dance away all thy Country Elesh this Winter; thy Heels will be invited to show their parts to Dance, in every fine Entry, in the Masques and Plays, and—  Sir Man. 
Why do they Dance in Entries here? we Dance in the Country in our Halls and Dining Rooms, because the Entries are too narrow:  La. Fad. 
Oh fie, thou dost not understand the terms of thy own Art yet; to Dance in an Entry, that is to say, in an Entry, an Entry of any thing—  Sir Man. 
Of Freestone or Brick?  Boob. 
Your Worship's are all Freestone.  La. Fad. 
No, no, fie fie, expert in the Science, and ignorant in the Terms, in an Entry of Shepherds or Gods, and Goddesses.  Sir Man. 
I can Dance in any Entry in England.  La. Fad. 
Strange, that thou shouldst not apprehend me; but to let that pass— well, but how is thy singing?  Boob. 
Oh, his Worship out-sings all our Parish, at Church, the Clerk is ashamed to set the Psalm before him.  Sir Man. 
Sing a Psalm, I have sung my part in a Recitattivo (as they call it) I had a Recitattivo acted at my own House: and I acted in it, and sung, I was London, or Augusta, and I had a high crowned Hat, to signify Paul's Steeple, and I had one acted the River Thames I had a great Nose made on purpose to signify London Bridge, and the River Thames swom under my Nose, I have my Nose in my Portmanteau, if I had it on, you should see Booby, and I would Act.  La. Fad. 
Then thou canst Act Nephew.  Boob. 
And so can I too.  Sir Man. 
Oh, I have all the new Comedy Books, and Tragedy Books, sent me, as fast as ever they are made; oh, I love them that huff the gods, they make no more of a god, than we do of a Constable.  Boob. 
Your Worship and I acted a Tragedy Book, you know.  Sir Man. 
Yes, and I was an Hero, and I remember two of the bravest lines.  
If saucy Jove, my Enemy appears,  
I'll pull him out o' Heaven by the Ears.  
There's ramping for you.  La. Fad. 
Saucy Jove, that's very great, that took mightily here.  Boob. 
Oh that Rumm-Dumm, Derry Dumm, oh, but the two Knocking Verses, an't like your Worship.  Sir Man. 
Oh, ay, you must know, my Part, Aunt, was to beat an Army, and so when I had beaten an Army, and two Armies more that came to their relief, and won four Kingdoms in three hours; I cried, Let me see, it's a little out of my Head; I cried, I'll, I'll, Booby, thou canst think of it.  Boob. 
O yes, an't like your Worship, I can remember it perfectly, I'll, I'll, Macking, I ha' forgot it, I ha' dropped it upon the Road somewhere.  Sir Man. 
What a Noddle hast thou, thou actedst with me.  Boob. 
Ay, but your Worship killed me, before you spoke the Speech: the Butler, the Ploughman, and I, was the Army.  Sir Man. 
I did not kill thee in earnest did I? Let me see, I'll.  Boob. 
Oh, now I remember, single, it gins with single—  Sir Man. 
Oh single, single, it gins with single.  
My single Sword, both men and gods shall maul,  
Oh but the next is the bravest.  
I will kill all the World, nay more than all.  Boob. 
There's your Rowzers.  Sir Man. 
There's your Thumpers.  Lad. Fad. 
Oh, they have a brave ingenious way of Writing now.  Sir Man. 
Oh, but then the fine tender things that would make one cry, you must know, Aunt, my Part, was to be in Love with my Dairy-maid, and her name was Celemena, and mine was Philaster, and I cried.  
How does my fairest Celemena do?  
And she cried  
Thank you my dear Philaster, how do you?  La. Fad. 
Very natural and soft.  Boob. 
Oh, the Dairy-maid is very soft.  Sir Man. 
Oh, but then the two next are tender,— I cried,  
Does my Sweetheart me any kindness bear?  
And she cried,  
I love you dearly, now, I vow and swear.  La. Fad. 
Very Tender.  Boob. 
Oh, Marry is a very tender good natured Maid.  Sir Man. 
Tender as an over-boiled Chick.  La. Fad. 
Very wittily comparisoned, the Sense is ready to drop in pieces, 'tis very fit for women's weak Stomaches.  Sir Man. 
Oh, but when my Maid and I came to die, I don't know why we were to die, but we died mighty mournfully, and then I having learned to sing, I groaned so Musically, I died in effaut flat, Oh, cried I!  La. Fad. 
Oh, that was sweet.  Sir Man. 
Oh, but then the Similes, I love the Similes dearly, to see two Heroes, or two Armies go to it as formerly, with Sword and Buckler, so now with Sword and Simile, Simele and Sword; Hack-slash, Slash-hack, for you must know, a Simile serves instead of a Buckler, for if a Man be ready to strike another, if tother up's with a Simile, he can't strike till the Similes gone.  La. Fad. 
Oh, they have a fine way.  Sir Man. 
Ay, and then they have such plenty of Similes you shall have a Play stuck as full of Similes, as a Country Garden, of Flowers, you may gather Posies o'Similies.  La. Fad. 
Wittily said again, stuck full o'Similes, and Poesies of Similes: I swear, thy Head is as full of Similes, as the Plays are.  Sir Man. 
Oh Sir, a witty man's Head is a Similes Bed, and breeds Similes as fast as an Oysterbed breeds Oysters.  La. Fad. 
Witty again, he has strange parts.  Sir Man. 
And then they have the finest odd, out of the way Similes, Similes that are most commonly no Similes at all, as now, speaking of a Ladies bright Eyes, says one,  
How do the nimble Glories of her Eye,  
Frisk, and Curvett, and swifily gallop by.  
There's a fine comparison, to compare a Lady's Eye to a Horse.  La. Fad. 
Ay, and Nimble is a fine odd, out of the way, Epithet for Glories, Nimble Glories. Well, dear Chuck, how camest thou by all this admirable, and, as I may say, Nimble Knowledge.  Sir Man. 
You must know, I had a couple of gallant Gentile Blades lay at my House, that were Great Men in London, here they are called Critwiques, and they taught me the finest things.  La. Fad. 
Oh, the Critics are Great Men indeed, they make Poets as afraid of them, as a Lion is of a Cock.  Sir Man. 
Some say, that is not at all.  La Fad. 
An old Lion, it may be, is not, nor an old Poet, of a Critic, but your new Poets are so afraid of them, that if a Critic Crows, they are ready to faint away.  Sir Man. 
Is't possible? could not one buy a Critics Place?  Boob. 
Pray your Worship do, and let me be your Clark.  La. Fad. 
Buy, alas thou mayst Judge and Critic for thy half Crown, as much as thou wilt.  Sir Man. 
That's a pitiful Place, if one can buy it for half a Crown.  Boob. 
Oh, but the Clerk may get Money though.  La. Fad. 
'Tis not Money, but Wit makes a Man a Critic.  Sir Man. 
Then I am a Critic already.  Boob. 
Oh brave, than I am a Clerk?  La. Fad. 
Well, dear Flesh and Blood o'mine, let me embrace thee, that I may say, I have my Arm full of Wit, thou art a Bridegroom for a Princess; how wilt thou honour my Education? well, hast thou brought up any Clothes to be Married in?  Sir Man. 
My Portmantle full.  La. Fad. 
Go and adorn thyself with all speed, whilst I prepare for the same affair, for I am to be Married, as well as thyself.  Sir Man. 
Is't possible?  Enter Bridget. Bridg. 
Andrew, Madam, has been at Sir Thomas Rash's, and can hear no tidings, neither of Sir Thomas, nor Madam Christina; Madam Christina lay out all night, and is not come home since; Sir Thomas is gone somewhere in a great combustion, and the Servants can give no account of either of 'em.  La. Fad. 
That's strange, oh, I'll warrant you, they'll be heard on, Nephew, go and dress thyself, mean while I'll step to the Exchange, for some things I want, and after that, I'll go over and invite Betty Frisque to my Wedding, I have much kindness for that poor Creature.  Sir Man. 
So you see, Madam.  
I bring to Town, a Mind, and Wit in fashion,  
And doubt not but to grace your Education.  Exeunt. The Scene changes to the Street. Enter Ramble. Ramb. 
Into what a villainous Trap am I fallen, dull Rogue that I was, not to know Isabella's voice, where were my Ears, my Senses? they were all in my Pocket, I was tickled with my ravishing expectations, into a perfect numbness to death, now am I discovered in all my Rogueries, and Intrigues, and Falsehoods; and must never hope to enjoy the sweet pleasure of Lying and Forswearing any more; I must now either repent, and become a down right plodding Lover to Christina, or in plain terms lose her: I must either forsake all the World for her, or her for all the World: well, if I do forsake her, she has this to boast, I do not forsake her for any one Woman, I forsake her for Ten thousand. But what do I talk of forsaking her, will not she forsake me, after this discovery? and besides her own Anger, will not Sir Thomas compel her? for he is horribly provoked against me, what ever the matter is. Well, I cannot bear the loss of Mrs. Christina, I had rather endure Marriage with her, than enjoy any other Woman at pleasure— I must, and will Repent, and Reform, and now should an Angel appear in Female shape, he should not tempt me to revolt any more.  
Oh Merry I am ruined  Enter Merry. Mer. 
O●, Sir, you are a happy Man, I have not time to ask you the success of your last Adventure, I am so transported with the pleasure of the Present; cannot you Limne, Sir?  Ramb. 
Limne, what dost thou mean?  Mer. 
Why Limne, Sir, draw Pictures in little.  Ramb. 
I, draw Pictures?  Mer. 
Yes, Sir you can, Sir.  Ramb. 
But I cannot, Sir.  Mer. 
But you can, Sir; you can Limne, and you must Limne, and you shall Limne, Sir. Coming along by Charing-Cross, who should it be my fortune to meet with, but Mr. Draw-well the Limner, going in all haste to my Lord Dry-bones, to draw Mrs. Frisques Picture— and what comes into my Head, Sir, but to beg of him to write an Apology for not coming, and send you with it, to perform the Work in his stead; and to prevail with him, I promised him the gain of the Picture, without the trouble.  Ramb. 
Thou hast undone me, seduced me from the ways of Virtue and Constancy. Just as I was entering into 'em, I am not able to resist the temptation of this Plot, but how shall I manage it? for I can no more make the Picture of a Face, than I can make a Face; I have not so much skill, as a Man may learn out of The Complete Gentleman, and other elaborate Pieces that teach that Faculty.  Mer. 
No, Sir, Did not I hear you the other day in a Mercer's Shop, promise his Wife her Picture, in the Presence of several Ladies, and the Good Man scraped you many Legs, to express his extraordinary Sense of so great a favour, and said, he would wait upon you, with his Wife, at your Chamber.  Ramb. 
Thou sayest right, glowing with extreme appetite to her, my Tongue and Brain overheated with Motion, in the Stream and Whirlpool of thought and babble, I very impudently invited her to sit to me for her Picture, and the foolish Cuckold her Husband did accordingly bring her, and leave her with me; where, when I had squeezed his Orange, I gave him the Rined again; and requited him with the shadow of it, Drawn by one that could perform it.  Mer. 
Can you not draw then, Sir, what shall we do? our Plot is spoiled.  Ramb, 
Not at all, Sir, I can Draw well enough for my purpose, by this Plot, I may Draw her, as I did the Mercer's Wife, that is, I may Draw her to my Chamber, that's enough.  Mer. 
That's very well thought on, and to continue the quibble, this Plot will give you a colour to visit her.  Ramb. 
Well quibled again, where's the Apology, is that as witty.  Mer. 
A good honest, plain Country Apology.  Gives him a Letter. Ramb. 
Come along Merry, thou must help in this business; well, I must turn thee away, before thy wicked Councils have undone me.  Mer. 
Indeed Sir, it is ill done of me, but it is done out of pure pity, like a good Natured Nurse, that cannot forbear giving a Feavorish Creature, that is ready to die of Thirst, what Drink they crave; I cannot for my life, hear you groan aft era Wench, night and day, so pitifully, and not help you.  Exeunt. Enter Lord Drybone, and Betty Frisque. The Scene a Chamber. L. Dry. 
Go, go, Hussey, you are an unkind naughty Girl, to make me pay thus dear for every smile and smirk I get from you; I dare safely say, not a dimple you make, when you smile, that does not cost me, one with another, Forty pound a Dimple.  Betty. 
'Tis your own fault, my dear Lord, you will be chiding o' one, and quarrelling with one.  L. Dry. 
Chiding o' one, and quarrelling with one; ay, and I had better quarrel on, I am a fool to buy Peace so dear, considering what a poor Trade I have, and how little I get by it.  Betty. 
People that cannot barter Commodity for Commodity, must send Money in specie, you know they do it all the World over.  L. Dry. 
But that's a very ruinous Trade, one had better War with such a Country, and forbidden all traffic with it, my dear Frisky.  Betty. 
Ay, if one can live without it, my dear Lord, you.  L. Dry. 
Come, no more of this, prepare to sit, Mr. Draw-well's a coming, I am glad you like your Point, and Jewel, it puts you in good humour, and makes you the fit to sit.  Enter Siss. Siss. 
There's one below from Mr. Draw-well, desires to speak with your Lordship.  L. Dry. 
How, has he failed me again? what an unworthy fellow it is, he shall never draw it now, though he will do it for nothing.  Betty. 
May be he has not failed you, my Lord, send for the Man up, and know his Message.  L. Dry. 
Let the Man come up:  (Exit Siss. 
These sort of Fellows, if they grow any thing famous, they grow so saucy with it, that they are not to be endured.  Enter Ramble, disguised. Ramb. 
I come from Mr. Draw-well, my Lord— he sends this Letter by me to your Lordship.  (Gives him a Letter. (L. Drybone opens the Letter, and Reads. 
My Noble Lord,— Fortune maliciously, just as I was upon the— way a coming, I have, by much importunacy, obtained the extraordinary kindness of this Gentleman, to come in my room, one of the first Men in the World,— formerly my Scholar;— have a care (I beseech your Lordship) not to speak to him of any recompense, for he is a Gentleman of quality, and draws only for his own divertisement.  
Your Lordship's humble Servant  
DRAW-WELL.  Betty. 
This Gentleman come to Draw my Picture? I know him, I love him for this Piece of Ingenuity, I swear.  (Aside. L. Dry. 
Sir, this is a great favour, indeed, I will aslure you, Sir, I take it for a great Honour, see, Sir, This is the Person whom I recommend to your skill  (Ramble salutes her. Betty. 
I receive this favour, with a great deal of satisfaction, this is an honour beyond expectation, I could not hope for such an Illustrious Limner.  Ramb. 
If I had no skill at all, so beautiful a Person would inspire me.  Betty. 
Oh Sir, I rather need all the Favour your Pencil can afford; your excellent Skill must hid the faults and defects of Nature.  Ramb. 
Nature, Madam, has not committed one, the Pencil must for ever despair of.  L. Dry. 
Come, enough of this, if you please, Sir, let alone these Compliments, and to your business, this is not at all to the purpose.  Betty. 
If pour Pencil, Sir, flatters, as much as your Tongue, the Picture you will draw, will not at all resemble me.  Ramb. 
Heaven that made the Original, has taken away all means of Flattery.  Betty. 
Heaven that made?—  L. Dry. 
I say, I will have no more Compliments, come, Sir, if you please, begin your Work.  Ramb. 
I am ready.  (Pulls out his Pencils, Colours, and Palate. Betty. 
Where shall I place myself, Sir.  Ramb. 
Here Madam, this place receives the Light, best of any we shall find.  Betty. 
Do I sit right?  (She sits. Ramb. 
Indifferent, Madam, a little more upright, if you please, a little more this way, your Body turned thus, lift up your Head, that the Beauty of your Neck may appear— your Breast bare, thus— (Goes, and feels her Breast. very well, a little more— more yet—  L. Dry. 
What a Pother is here? I do not like all this, cannot you sit as you should.  Betty. 
This is all new to me, I never sat before, 'tis the Gentleman's business to place me, let him set me how he will.  Ramb. 
You sit admirable well, Madam, keep yourself thus.  L. Dry. 
So, Sir, pray to your Seat.  Ramb. 
A little more towards me, Madam? your Eye's always on me, I beseech you, Madam, your Looks fixed to me.  Betty: 
Now, Sir, pray do not flatter me, I am none of those Women, who, if Pictures be but handsome, they care not whether they be like or no; one fine handsome Picture might serve 'em all, for all demand the same things, fine Features, and delicate Complexion; for my part, I desire no Charity at all, let my Picture be but like, and I desire no more.  Ramb. 
You are so rich in Beauty, that the Pencil can add nothing to you, it may possibly detract, it cannot flatter; ah, what sweetness is there? what Charms, I undertake a bold Work, to represent those Perfections. (Talks and Paints: I remember a story of Apelles, Apelles once drew the Picture of a Mistress of Alexander the Great, and as he was Painting her, fell so passionately in Love with her, that he was ready to die Alexander, out of pure Generosity, bestowed her upon him; I could not do as Apelles did, but ay, my Lord, I am afraid your Lordship will not prove an Alexander the Great.  L. Dry. 
Come, Sir, I pray proceed in your Painting, we have neither of us any business with Alexander the Great, that I know of.  Ramb. 
If Alexander the Great were by, he should not hinder me from saying, I never saw any thing so charming, so—  L. Dry. 
Sir, in plain terms, you talk too much, in my opinion, and do not at all mind your Pencil.  Ramb. 
My Lord, on the contrary, I discourse out of regard to my Pencil? to quicken the Spirits, and put a Briskness and Gaiety in the Face.  Enter Merry, running dressed like an Attorney, with a Green Bag under his Arm. L. Dry. 
How now, what would this fellow have? who let him in without my acquaintance?  Merry. 
I beg your Lordship's pardon for my rude pressing in, I am unknown to your Lordship, but I have business of extraordinary concern, to your Lordship, which I must acquaint you of, with all speed.  L. Dry. 
Business of extraordinary concern to me, what is it?  Merry. 
I must impart it to your Lordship in private.  L. Dry. 
We are private enough here, I want go out of the Room, for I done't like this Picture-Drawer.  (Aside. Merry. 
Look you my Lord; ay, this Draws him aside, and whispers, and produces several long scrowls. is it, no; this is not it; ay, this is it, no, no, ay, now I come to it.  Ramble starts from his seat, and falls on his knees before Betty, watching L. Drybone still. L. Dry. 
I would thou wert come to it once.  Ramb. 
Oh, charming Creature, if you have any pity in your Soul, save the life of a poor languishing Lover, that has been dying for you these two months, I have expressed my Love to you by Signs, and you have regarded them, and now I have studied this way, to tell you in more intelligible manner; how much I Love, Admire, Adore you, above all the Creatures of the World above all I can express, and shall, as long as I live; but that life will not exceed this minute, if you put me not instantly out of despair.  Betty. 
I know you, Sir, I have observed you, (I confess) and do further acknowledge, your Love is not unpleasing to me, but it is impossible for me to give you any satisfaction.  Ramb. 
If you say the word, it is, and shall be possible, nay, it shall be impossible to hinder it.  Betty. 
But, Sir, I am a close Prisoner: and cannot stir out to save my own life, and much less yours.  Ramb. 
Now you speak unkindly for I have seen you abroad.  Betty. 
It may be so, but like a Prisoner in the King's Bench, never without my Keeper.  Ramb. 
You can shake off your Keeper, if you please.  Betty. 
My Lord and I now, are upon pretty good terms; where do you lodge?  Ramb. 
At the Braziers in the Mall.  Betty. 
Be within about Two in the afternoon.  Ramb. 
Divine Creature.  Betty, 
But hope for nothing but a Visit, for there will be more words to a bargain, than these; I will have a farther trial of Love, and I will have a better Love, than perhaps you intent.  Ramb. 
Oh, Heavenly Creature, you shall have as much as you can hold.  L. Dry. 
How now Mr. Painter, what are you doing there?  Ramb. 
Is this a Mole, Madam, or a little speck of Dirt.  L. Dry. 
A Mole, Madam, I Gad, this same Picture-Drawer.  Merry. 
Now my Lord, if the Conveyances be Drawn thus.  L. Dry. 
Prithee ha' done with thy Conveyances, for I do not understand one word thou sayest.  Merry. 
No my Lord, look you, I'll make it plain.  L. Dry. 
Well, if thou makest it never so plain, what is all this to me?  Merry. 
Not to you, my Lord, why are not you my Lord Buck?  L. Dry. 
No, nor my Lord Do neither.  Merry. 
What a Rascal was the Porter, to tell me, this wa● the Lord Bucks.  L. Dry. 
What a Rascal was you, sirrah, to come to trouble  Betty. 
Begun, my Lord's jealous. (Exit Merry. and grows into Choler; if he grows out of humour, our Plot's spoiled.  (To Ramble. Ramb. 
Well Madam, enough for once.  L. Dry. 
Yes Sir, and too much.  Ramb. 
To morrow I will wait on you again.  L. Dry. 
I shall desire your Pardon, you have done enough, too much at this time, to come here any more.  Betty, 
How, no more; what shall he not finish my Picture?  L. Dry. 
You mean my Picture, 'tis you that sit, but 'tis my Picture that must be Drawn, and in an ugly shape too.  Enter Lady Faddle. La. Fad. 
How now, what is this noise, fie, my Lord Drybone, out upon thee, wilt thou never let this poor Creature have any rest; I swear, I wonder she will live with thee; what's the matter, Frisky?  Betty. 
Here's a noble Gentleman, has done me the honour to begin my Picture, and my Lord turns him away uncivilly, and won't let him complete his Work.  L. Dry. 
I know what Work you would have him complete; stay, let me see; I will make an experiment, show me your Work before you go, let me see how I like it.  Ramb. 
Alas, my Lord, at present it is but rude, you can see nothing; four days hence, something will appear.  L. Dry. 
Let me see it as it is, Sir; Ramble gives him the Picture. what a Devil of a Face is this?  Ramb. 
Alas, it is but— but— a Pox on me for not looking on some Book, to get the terms— (Aside. it is but departed Colours.  L. Dry. 
Departed Colours, what are those? dead Colours, you would say, I believe.  Ramb. 
Ay, dead Colours, the other is a term Gentlemen use.  L. Dry 
Ay, such a Gentleman as you are; but Sir, can this ever be a Face?  Ram. 
A most beautiful one, when my Pencil has licked it.  L. Dry. 
Licked it, ay indeed, it is more like a Bears Cubb, than a Face.  Ramb. 
It is a way of Drawing I have.  L. Dry. 
Is it, Sir, pray if you please, let that door be your way at present, and pray let my House be never in your way of Drawing any more;— come in Betty, I'll talk with Draw-well for this trick.  Exit Lord Drybone and Betty. La. Fad. 
This Gentleman a Picture-Drawer? I swear he is the handsomest Picture-Drawer that ever I saw. Hold, Sir, pray, a word with you.  Ramb. 
Madam, I am commanded hence.  La. Fad. 
Sir, I have Empire enough here, to Reprieve you, at least for a moment, and you shall stay, Sir, I understand, you Draw Pictures, and so handsome a Picture-Drawer, must needs draw very handsome Pictures, what ever my Lord Drybone says.  Ramble. 
When I Draw yours, Madam, I cannot do otherwise.  La. Fad. 
I swear, an incomparable well bred Man; Noble Sir, you have Drawn your own Portraiture, in most Gentile Colours, that I am extremely ambitious; to have mine Drawn, by so delicate a hand.  Ramb. 
Madam, my Hand is unworthy of that Honour, your Picture deserves rather, to be Drawn in a Coach and Six Horses, in Triumph round the Town.  La. Fad. 
I swear, that is very witty, and surprising— Sir, you now more and more inflame me, with an Ardent desire to taste of your skill; I will not rest, till obtain the Felicity.  Ramb. 
My Pencil will be proud of the Glory— how shall I be rid of this impertinent Woman?  Aside. Enter Siss, whispers Ramble. Siss. 
Sir, my Lady is extremely troubled, and ashamed, my Lord has Treated you thus uncivilly; by good luck, my Lord is just now called out, about an extraordinary affair, and will not be back these three hours: she so extremely desires to have her Picture drawn. by you, that if you will step down, she will meet you at the door, and go and sit for an hour in any place, you shall think convenient.  Ramb. 
Most excellent Creature, I adore thee for thy Message, were I on a Precipiece, I would leap down to such an invitation; I will disentangle myself, from Madam Impertinence, that hooks herself to me, and be at the door in an instant, Madam, an affair of consequence calls me away, Exit Siss. my Pencils, my Oistershells, my brightest Colours, the exactest motion of my Hand, and the best of my skill, shall always attend your fair Physiognomy; Your Ladyship's most humble Servant, and Picture-Drawer.  Exit Ramble: La. Fad. 
The Top, the Cream, the Flower, the Quintessence, of Wit and Ingenuity; his harmonious Tongue, has left a tang, a relish of a Passion behind it; I swear, I feel a little Palpitation, I shall not be at repose, till I commence my Intrigue; and oh my brutish and obtuse memory, I have forgot to ask him, what happy place he honours with his abode; but now I think on't, Frisky can lend me the knowledge, I will run with speed, and borrow it of her.  Exit La. Fad. Enter Ramble, and Betty Frisque, Vizarded. The Scene, the Street, before Rambles Lodging. Ramb. 
Heaven be praised, we are safe at the place of Battle; this is my Lodging, in, in my Dear— my Sweet—  Betty. 
Hold, Sir, I have honourably walked with you into the Field, but now I'll Article with you.  Ramb. 
I abhor the word, it has been lately mischievous to me, and I will not hear it.  Enter a Woman Vizarded, as out of Ramb. Lodgings. Woman. 
Oh, Mr. Ramble; are you come, I have been waiting for my Picture this hour.  Ramb. 
Oh curse on my memory, I forgot this Assignation; I have such bundles of Billets, Doux, that I must keep a Clerk to enter them in a Journal, Dear Madam, I beg your pardon, I was pre-ingaged to a Person of Honour, and I quite forgot, come an hour hence, and I will not fail you.  Exit. Enter to them a Second Woman. Se. Wo. 
So Mr. Ramble, you serve me finely, I have been staying for my Picture these two hours, and here you promise 'em to Flirt's, here is a Flirt newly gone out, has kept me prisoner in a Closet this hour, I was so afraid to be seen, for fear of my Honour.  Ramb. 
Oh, dear Madam.  2 Wo. 
No, Sir, I scorn to fit, if you draw the Pictures of every Flirt.  Betty. 
So, Sir, but oh, I am ruined, my Lady Faddle's coming, whither shall I run, she will know me by my Clothes.  Ramb. 
In— in— dear Madam, Betty and Ramble strive to run in, Betty gets in, but La. Faddle catches Ramble. this Disease has fastened on me; how shall I be cured of her? what an unlucky Rogue am I in my Amours?  La. Fad. 
Have I found you, Sir? this is fortunate, I will not part with you, till I obtain the Glory to be deciphered by your ingenious hand.  Ramb. 
Oh, Madam, what Apelles is fit for so great a Work? you are so admirably Painted.  La. Fad. 
Not at all, Sir, you are misinformed, I only use a little Red, Foyes, Painted, I swear, I hate a Painted Woman in my heart, I suspect their Virtue, besides, 'tis nasty! Painted Fo.  Ramb. 
I mean, by Nature's Hand.  La. Fad. 
I beg your Pardon, I misunderstood you.  Ramb. 
That Art were saucy to contend.  La. Fad. 
Oh, Sir, you put me in a longing expectation; I beseech you, let us to some convenient place, where you may begin your Work; put me in any posture you please, sweet Sir, and let me taste plentifully of your skill.  Ramb. 
Madam, I want some Poet to assist my Fancy, you shall be Drawn in a Triumphant Posture, with all the Gods and Goddesses attending, Venus crying for not being so handsome, Juno scolding for jealousy of you; blind Cupid borrowing Glass-Eyes, to stare on you; Jupiter transforming himself into a Lap-Dog, to kiss you; Mars lying naked under your Feet, in the shape of a Backsword.  La. Fad. 
Oh, admirable, when shall this most rare Piece be begun?  Ramb. 
That, Madam, I do not know.  La. Fad. 
Not know, Sir, Why? Sir, is it not your own Noble Hand performs it?  Ramb. 
My Hand will not have the Glory.  La. Fad. 
Whose then, Sir?  Ramb. 
I do not know, Madam.  La. Fad. 
Fie, fie, Sir, this is Superlative Modesty; Come, come, Sir.  (She pulls him. Enter Merry. Merry. 
Master, Sir— how, my Wife that must be, here?  La. Fad. 
Oh, dear, my Servant here, I shall be dishonoured, this is unfortunate!  Merry. 
Does my Master deal with stolen Flesh too? and is he making me a Cuckold before I am married? I do not much care, he cannot cuckold me of her Money, how shall I do to outface him now— how now, Jack Ramble, engross all the Ladies.  (Winks, and nods on Ramble. La. Fad. 
What shall I Reply, what shall I Invent? this is Infernal  (Aside. Ramb. 
How now, sirrah, how came you and I so familiar? what, is this thy Rogue's Plot?  (Merry winks, and nods on Ramble. Merry. 
So Madam, this is fine.  La. Fad. 
I swear, Sir,— I swear— I don't know what to swear I am, in such confusion.  Merry. 
Very well, Madam; this is a good beginning.  Ramb. 
This Rogue is intimate with her.— This is some Plot, that I cannot discover. But ha', here is Sir Thomas coming this way in haste.  La. Fad. 
Sir Thomas Rash catch me here? this is dishonour upon dishonour.  Enter Sir Thomas Rash, and four Bailiffs. Sir Tho. 
So, have I found you? that is the Lady, I Command you, take her.  1 Bay. 
Lady Faddle, I Arrest you in the King's name, in an Action of a Thousand pounds, at the Suit of Sir Thomas Rash, here present.  Sir Tho. 
Come, put in substantial Bail, or go to Jail.  Ramb. 
An Arrest at my Lodging?  Merry. 
My Wife that must be, Arrested?  La. Fad. 
Arrested?  Ramble and Merry offer to Draw, and the Bailiffs step in, and disarm them. Sir Tho. 
Hold, Sir, be not too forward, your turn will come soon enough.  La. Fad. 
Is this done, Sir Thomas, like a Civil Person, and a Person of Honour?  Merry. 
What is the business, Madam?  La. Fad. 
I will declare before all these Gentlemen; Know then, that a Nephew of mine; a Baronet in the Country, was bound in a Bond of a thousand pounds to come up to Town, and Marry Mrs. Christina, Sir Thomas' Daughter, four days ago, and I was bound in the same Bond.  Ramb. 
What's this?  La. Fad. 
And my Nephw failing to come up, Sir Thomas, like an uncivil person, takes the forfeiture of the Bond.  Ramb. 
How, Sir Thomas, have you engaged your Daughter to any one, after you have promised her to me.  Sir Tho. 
I promised her to you, to be your Strumpet, did I?  Ramb. 
My Strumpet! sure, Sir Thomas you are crazed, I know not what you mean, nor do you know your own meaning.  Sir Tho. 
That shall be tried.  Merry. 
Is this all the business?  Sir Tho, 
Come Bailiffs, with your Prisoner to the Jail.  Merry. 
Hold, hold, Sir, I'll release her; Madam, we will have a trick for his trick, say you are my Wife, and plead Covert-Bearn.  Ramb. 
Was this the Rogues Plot? he has gulled this simple Lady into Matrimony.  (Aside. Merry. 
Yes, Sir, she is the Wife of me, John Merry, Esq, of Merry-Hall, now, meddle with her, Sir, if you dare.  Sir Tho. 
Say you so, Sir, are you come over me so? very well; then I shall speedily take out a Writ to Arrest John Merry, Esq, in an Action of a Thousand pounds, and he shall pay it me every farthing, if all the Estate, the said John Merry and his Wife, the late Dame Faddle, have in the World, can pay it.  La. Fad. 
Sir Thomas, I would have you to know that, do your worst, my Estate is able to pay twice that sum, yet I have enough remaining.  Merry, 
I am glad to hear of that, 3 or 4 thousand pounds will be good Sauce to make the old Goose go down.  (Aside. Enter Christina and Isabel vizarded. Chri. 
Hold! before this noble Company part I have something of great importance to say to Mr. Ramble, in the Presence of you all, Sir, do you know me?  Ramb. 
Madam?  (Discovers herself to be Christina Chr. 
Sir, I am your unfortunate Daughter. (Knelt to Sir Tho. who, in obedience to your Commands, am going to remove so great a misfortune as myself, for ever from your Family; but e'er I depart, I beg of you, by all your past Fatherly Love, by the secret remains of it still in your Breast; by the Remembrance of my dear Mother, in Heaven, to give me leave to vindicate myself, and challenge this base Villain, in the Presence of Heaven, who knows my Innocence in your own Presence, to whom he has wronged me, in the Presence of all these, to affirm, if he dares, if there be any truth, or shadow of truth, in any Word or Tittle, of what he spoke, in prejudice of my Honour.  Ramb. 
hay, what Mystery? what Riddle? what Dream is this?  Sir Tho. 
Yes, Sir, now affirm to her face, what you said of her last night; that she had been naught with you before, that she had made an appointment then to be naught with you, and that she had been naught before ever you touched her.  Ramb. 
Oh horrid! what Devil has forged such an abominable falsehood, of me; May Heaven strike me dead with Thunder; may the Earth sink and swallow me; may all the Curses of injured Innocence pursue me; if ever such an impious thought came into my soul.  Sir Tho. 
Oh Impudence, Impudence.  Ramb. 
And to show my Words and Thoughts are the same, I here declare her, as pure and spotless, as a Soul in Heaven. I desire no greater happiness in the World, than to possess her with all those misfortunes; which I am accused to have brought upon her.  Sir Tho. 
Was ever the like impudence heard? he said all this, I charge him with, to my face, and fought with me to maintain his words.  La. Fad. 
Very well, I shall have nothing to do with you, or your disputes; know my Nephew is come to Town; but he shall go back again, and break off the Match, and so take your course.  Sir Tho. 
Sir Mannerly, come? hold, Madam, one word more with your Ladyship, and I'll end all controversies: Well, Mr. Ramble, you declare in the Presence of my Lady Faddle, and us all, that you never meant the words you said.  Ramb. 
That I never said or thought any thing of this Lady, but what a Votary might say of the Saint he prays to.  Sir Tho. 
That you acknowledge her entirely innocent of—  Ramb. 
That her Innocence is equal with her Beauty; and that her Beauty can be equalled by nothing, but her own Innocence; and that she can be compared with none, but herself.  Sir Tho. 
And that you will marry her, when ever I please. and leave her Fortune to my discretion.  Ramb. 
That I will marry her, without any consideration of a Fortune, rather than any other Woman in the World, with a Kingdom.  Sir Tho. 
Very well, then take notice, I will marry her to Sir Mannerly Shallow; and so my Lady Faddle, I release your Ladyship, and now our Contest is ended.  Ramb. 
What's this?  Chri. 
Hold, Mr. Ramble, do not dare to interpose, my Father has declared his Pleasure, and I declare my ready obedience; however, I will never have you of all Men.  Ramb. 
Oh my torment!  La. Fad. 
Well, Sir Thomas, you have dealt (let me tell you) ungentilely with me; but however, to put an end to controversies, I forgive you, and so let the Match proceed.  (Exit Sir Tho. Rash, La. Fad. Chr. and Isab. Ramb. 
Merry, a word, is this Lady your Wife?  Merry. 
Yes, in earnest, Sir.  Ramb. 
Then, sirrah, make her break off this Match, or I'll cut your Throat, how dear soever I pay for it.  Merry. 
Well, Sir, a word to the wise is enough, you may be sure, I'll do what— lies in my power.—  Exit Merry. Enter Betty Frisque. Betty. 
So so, Mr. Ramble, you are a very fine Man, some Women come to you for their Pictures, and others for promise of Marriage; I have heard all passages, this is you that Loved, Admired, Adored me above all Creatures in the World; above all you could express; that you could have no Rest, day nor night, for thinking and sighing after me: poor loving Man; I had been sweetly served, if I had been such a fool, as to have believed you, and fallen a loving you, as hard as ever I could drive: well, I thank you, you have done me a kindness, I shall endure my confinement a little better after this: nay, I shall thank my old Lord, for keeping me out of the Temptations of such false dissembling insinuating Men.  Exit. Ramb. 
So, so, forsaken, and hated by every one, all Afflictions come together; I am justly served for my liquorish, greedy, insatiable, ridiculous Temper; that like Adam, could not be contented in Paradise, but must be tasting all sorts of Fruit, lawful or unlawful, though I had pleasures enough in Christina's Love, to satisfy a Demy-God, and more than any mere creature could merit; well, despair shall be damned, before he shall have the fingering of me yet,— opportunity has not so turned his bald Crown on me; but I can have hold enough of his Ears yet, at least, I will have hold of my Rival's Ears, who e'er he be; this shall give him to understand; (Shows his Sword.) what Portion he shall have with his Lady; nay, what Lady he shall have, for this fair slender Creature shall enjoy his Body, and speedily  Exit.   

ACT V.  

SCENE The Street, Sir Mannerly dressed in a fine Countrey-fashioned Suit.  Enter Sir Mannerly, Shallow, and Booby. Sir Man. 
HOW do my clothes become me, Booby.  Boob. 
Bravely, an't like your Worship.  Sir Man. 
And am I pretty handsome.  Boob. 
I never see a handsomer Man peep out of a Suit of clothes.  Sir Man. 
Well, I long for my Bride, oh how gently could I salute her now? Madam, what a Spring, a Source, a Fountain, a River of Love and Beauty flows from your eyes; a Nilus of Beauty overflows the Egypt of your Face.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Sir Thomas Rash, nor Madam Christina, are not where to be found, Sir.  Sir Man. 
hay, not to be found? well, then there is knavery in this, they do it on purpose to make me forfeit my Bond. Oh dear, here comes the person of Quality Enter the Porter. I invited to my Wedding, what shall I say to excuse myself to him?— Noble Sir, I swear I am so out of Aspect— I know not how to demean myself, I was so bold as to crave the honour of your company, at my Wedding Supper to night, and I swear, Sir, I cannot find my Bride—  Por. 
Not find your Bride, Sir? that's strange; it's a common thing here in London for Women to run away from their Husbands after they're Married, but I never knew a Woman run from her Husband before she was Married, till now, well Sir, there's no hurt done.  Sir Man. 
Hold, noble Sir, I have received so many noble Favours from you to day, that I will not let you stir, till I know to whom I am so much obliged— that I may know to whom to repay; I beseech you, Sir, to let me know your Honourable name, for I am sure you are of Noble Quality.  Por. 
Ay, Sir, I am a Knight,— I was dubbed 〈◊〉 Lord Mayors show.—  Sir Man. 
Look you there, Booby, did not I say he was a Knight? I beseech you, Sir, of what Order? for by your Silver Chain, and noble Silver Plate, you must be of some Order, that I have not read of in Heraldry.  Por. 
I am of a very old Order, Sir, of the Order of Isacher. I stoop under my burden, and my Crest is an Ass Couchant.  Sir Man. 
Look you there, Booby; I beseech you, Sir, your Name.  Por. 
My Name is Rash, Sir, at your service.  Sir Man. 
What— not Sir Thomas Rash?  Por. 
Old Tom Rash,— Sir Thomas, if you will have it so.  Sir Man. 
Oh strange, Booby.  Boob. 
Sir Thomas Rash's Worship.  Sir Man. 
Did one ever see the like? here have I been Angling and Trolling for my Father-in-law, and have had him at my Hook all day.  Boob. 
This is just as your Worship and I, looked up and down for your Boots one day, and you had 'em on your Legs.  Sir Man. 
Just so for all the World.  Por. 
What have I done now, I am afraid I have brought more Compliments on my Head— they come— they come full swinge— oh, what will become of me? oh, Sir, have mercy on me.  Sir Man. 
Noble Father-in-law.  (Sir Man. and Booby, run and embrace him.) Boob. 
His Worship's Father-in-law's Worship.  Por. 
What do they call me Father-in-law?  Boob. 
Your Worship, Sir Thomas, I believe, does not know my Master's Worship; my Master's Worship, is Sir Mannerly Shallow; that is come to Town, according to his Bond, to marry your Daughter.  Por. 
Come to Town to marry my Daughter? I begin to think 'em merry Men again; let me be hanged if I can guests, whether they be fools, or no, for my life;— I facks, I rather think they make a fool of me.  Sir Man. 
I am the same Sir Mannerly Shallow, on my Honour Sir.  Por. 
Sir Mannerly Shallow, haha, what comes in my Head (Laughs.) I heard my Master, and Namesake, Sir Thomas Rash, talk of one Sir Mannerly Shallow; that is to Marry my young Lady, and I warrant, this simple Gentleman is he; and he hearing my name to be Thomas Rash, and calling myself in waggery, Sir Thomas,— he takes me to be my Master: ha'— ha'— ha'.—  (Laughs. 
Hark you Master, are not you Sir Mannerly Shallow?  Sir Man. 
I am, on my Honour, Sir Thomas.  Por. 
Ha-ha-ha.—  (Laughs. Sir Man. 
Ay, the same; ha-ha-ha.—  (Laughs. Boob. 
It is his Worship.—  (Laughs. They all three laugh, and the Porter laughs the more, to see them laugh. Por. 
I have laughed my Heart sore; what a knavish prank could I play now, to pass for Sir Thomas Rash, and pop my Daughter on this silly Knight: well, Sir, I will not cheat you, I am honest Tom Rash, a poor Porter, and Servant, to that very Sir Thomas Rash you want, and come along, I'll lead you to him.  Sir Man. 
Come, Father-in-Law, this is not gentile; now you have owned yourself, to deny yourself again; you do it, now you see who I am, to make me forfeit my Bond— but what have I discovered? Let me compare the very same Coat of Arms: I swear, this was well thought Pulls out a Letter, and compares the Seal with the Arms of the Porter's Badge. on; I'll take my Oath; now if you deny yourself, I'll go to Law with you, for I know you by your Arms.  Por. 
This is better and better, ha-ha-ha,—  (Laughs. Sir Man. 
My Father-in-Law, I see is a merry Man—  (Laughs. Boob, 
Sir Thomas, his Worship did but jest.  (haha- (Laughs. Por. 
Well, I'll own myself to be Sir Thomas Rash, carry him to my Cellar, and there let my Wife look to him, whilst I call my Master— Come, Son-in-Law, I am your Father-in-Law; and I am hearty glad to see you; I'll conduct you to my Offspring, and your Bed-Mate, that must be— what sport is here?  Sir Man. 
Did not I say 'twas he?  (Exit Porter. Boob. 
What luck was this to find him, just as your Bond was forfeited.  Sir Man. 
Ay, and by the Coat of Arms,— you must know, I am very well skilled in Coats of Arms— I can tell all our own Coats, and all the Quartering, ever since King Cadwallader. Oh, but Booby, was it not pretty, that I should invite my Father-in-law, to his own Daughter's Wedding.  Boob. 
I warrant, that made his Worship laugh so hearty.  Sir Man. 
Well thought on, I swear, now run to my Cloak-bag, and fetch my bag of Money, to pay for my Wedding Dinner.  (Exit. Boob. 
I shall, an't like your Worship.—  Exit. Enter Ramble and Merry. Merry. 
Sir, am not I a loving Servant, that forsake the Wife of my Bosom; now Love has Cooked, and Dished her up, and leave her piping hot, to run after your Appetite.  Ramb. 
Thou art an honest fellow, Merry; but all things considered, the kindness is as great to thyself, as me, however, I accept it— but hast thou hunted out my Rival?  Merry. 
I saw him here about, not a quarter of an hour ago.  Ramb. 
What a kind of fellow is he.  Merry. 
Oh, 'tis such a Cumberland Piece, he is much farther from understanding, than his Country is from London; and has such a living Log follows him, as you never saw:— many a wiser Block has suffered Martyrdom for Christmas, in his Master's Hall Chimney.  Ramb. 
Prithee let's inquire here about for them, by thy description, they are so Remarkable, every body that has seen 'em, will inform us of them.  Exeunt.  

The SCENE, An Apple Shop.  Enter Rash and his Wife. Wife. 
How, are you mad, Thomas, lose such a Fortune for my Daughter?  Rash. 
What, shall I play the knave o''at fashion?  Wife. 
Is it knavery to own your Christendom? is not your name Rash? and were not you Christened Thomas?  Rash, 
But I was not Christened Sir Thomas, was I?  Wife. 
Well, if the Knight will christian you Sir Thomas, what's that to any one?  Rash. 
What, I shall ha' my Master, Sir Thomas, ha' me up, coram nobis, for Forgery.  Wife. 
Well let him him coram nobis you as much as he dares; there's no Law against owning one's own name; let him take his Silver Badge again, and he will, we can live without his Chain, we shall be as good as he now.  Rash. 
I tell you, I want do it.  Wife. 
Won't you? then let my Goods rot and they will, I'll ne'er sell pennyworth of Apples or Gingerbread more, whilst I live.  Rash. 
These Women will rule the Roast— well, I'll be Sir Thomas then, but if I look through a Scotch Casement for this, that is to say, a Pillory; I'll lodge a Cudgel in your middle Story backward.  Wife. 
Let them do what they dare, they shall find a Mess of hot coddlings o'me, I warrant them; give me my clean Kercher, and my Hat, and run quickly, an fetch Winny from School.  Rash. 
There, there, Done 'em quickly, our Son-in-Law comes.  Enter Sir Mannerly and Booby, with a bag of Money under his Arm, a Beggar-woman with a Child begging of Sir Mannerly. Sir Man. 
Well, I never saw such a fine street in my life.  Beg. Wo. 
Pray your Worship, give a poor Woman something.  Sir Man. 
Begun, Beggar-woman.  Rash. 
Son-in-law, you are hearty welcome; see, this is your Mother-in-law.  Wife. 
For want of a better, Sir.  Sir Man. 
Madam, your most humble Servant.  Rash. 
Well, Son, I'll run and fetch your Bride, she is but two doors off, at a Boarding-School, where I keep her for good Breeding; you wonder to see so many Apples here; my Wife and I, you must know, are great lovers of Apples, and we are laying in our Winter Store, into our Cellar; that's my Cellar, but that great House is my Habitation.  Sir Man. 
Oh Stately, that's like the Palace of Sol-sublimibus, Alta Columnis:— And Gold on the top too, Clara micante Auro.  Rash. 
I, to show I love Apples, I have a Golden Apple, a Golden Pippin on the top; well, I'll leave you with my Wife, I'll be back presently:—  Exit Rash. Sir Man. 
Is your Ladyship so great a lover of Apples? I shall agree with you then mightily in Diet, for I love Apples, as well as ever Adam did, and here are as many fine Apples, as ever I saw in all my life.  Boob. 
Curious Apples indeed.  Wife. 
Pray Son-in-law, be pleased to eat one, there's a Pippin as good a one, as ever Tooth was put in— and as sound as myself.  Boob. 
A pure Pippin.  Sir Man. 
Your Ladyship's most humble Servant; my Lady's a plain Woman, Booby.  Boob. 
She seems a very hearty Woman, an't like your Worship.  Enter Rash and Winifrid. Rash. 
See, Son, here's your young Yoke-fellow, that must into the Noose with you.  Sir Man. 
A most transcendent Beauty?  Rash. 
A plain Girl.  Sir Man. 
Not at all, she's the Epitome of Perfection; I am enamoured above the capacity of expression; I deserve to forfeit a thousand Bonds of a thousand pound, for staying the thousandth part of a minute, from her Embraces; I will pay the forfeiture of my Bond in Love and Kisses;— I will number up:  Beg. Wo. 
Pray good your Worship.  Sir Man, 
What a troublesome Woman art thou? dost not see I am busy a Complimenting?— I say, I will number up by Art Arithmetical  Beg. Wo. 
Pray your Worship,  Sir Man. 
Did one ever see the like?  Boob. 
Woman, do not trouble his Worship.  Wife. 
Begun, or I'll send for the Beadle.  Sir Man. 
I say, I will number up— I will number up— this scurvy Beggar-Woman has broke off my Speech, that I vow and swear, I do not know what I was going to say— I had better ha' given her a shilling, than have lost such a Speech.  Boob. 
I could find in my heart, Beggar-Woman to kick you, for spoiling his Worship's Speech— no matter— your Worship— has twenty more as good.  Rash. 
No matter for Compliments, come Son-in-law, to Church, if you please, and there let the Parson compliment you both into Man and Wife, and that's the Compliment of Compliments.  Sir Man. 
With all my heart, and may a thousand Cupids hover over every Pew, to fill your heart as full of Love, as mine is of Love and Admiration.  Boob. 
Did you ever hear such pure Compliments?  Rash. 
Never in all my days.  (As they are going off, Enter Ramble and Merry. Merry. 
That's he.  Ramb. 
Is that he, 'tis so ridiculous a fellow, I cannot be angry with him?  Merry. 
Go, Sir, Manage him— whilst I handle Log, the Second King of Frogs, that follows him.  Ramble takes Sir Mannerly, and Merry, Booby, aside. Ramb. 
Sir, one word with you in private. — To Sir Man.  Merry. 
Sir, one word with you in private. — To Booby.  Sir Man. 
With me, Sir?  Boob. 
With me forsooth?  Ramb. 
Ay, Sir, it must be very private.  Merry. 
Ay, Sir.  Ramb. 
Is not your name Sir Mannerly Shallow?  Sir Man. 
It is, Sir, what then, Sir?  Ramb. 
Are not you come to Town to marry Sir Thomas Rash's Daughter?  Sir Man. 
I am, Sir, what then, Sir?  Boob. 
Four Oxen to run for a Wager, Sir, do you say?  Merry. 
From Tweed to Newcastle.  Ramb. 
Then you must not have her, Sir.  Sir Man. 
How, not have her, Sir?  Ramb. 
No stirring, Sir, if you do, this runs into your Guts.  Sir Man. 
Into my Guts, Sir?  Ramb. 
Ay, into your Guts, Sir.  Boob. 
My Master's Pied Ox to be one.  Merry. 
For a wager of Fourscore Load of Hay—  Sir Man. 
Booby.—  Ramb. 
No Booby, Sir—  Sir Man. 
No Booby, Sir?—  Ram. 
No Booby, Sir.—  Boob. 
To be eat all with Mustard.  Merry. 
All with Mustard?  Boob. 
An Ox eat Mustard!  Merry. 
All with Mustard!  Ramb. 
I shall be very brief with you, I shall propound but two things to you, take your choice, either to go out immediately, and fight me, and he of us too, that comes alive out of the Field, shall have the Lady; or else this minute to take Post for Cumberland, and not to come up, till I am married to her.  Sir Man. 
To go out and fight with you, Sir!  Ramb. 
Ay, Sir, till one of us fall dead, or ride Post for Cumberland; take your choice.  Sir Man. 
Ride Post for Cumberland, Sir?  Ramb. 
Ay, Sir, choose instantly, or this goes into your Guts, Sir.  Sir Man. 
My Guts, Sir?  Ramb. 
Ay, Sir.  Sir Man. 
Booby.—  Ramb. 
No Booby, Sir; speak quickly what you'll do:  Boob. 
And the Ox that wins, to be Knighted.  Merry. 
To be Knighted?  Boob. 
I never heard the like; let me tell his Worship—  Merry. 
Presently, when I ha' done:— I have not half done.  Ramb. 
Say what you'll do, and that instantly.  Sir Man. 
Sir, I'll.—  Ramb. 
What will you do, Sir?  Sir Man. 
Sir, I'll.—  Ramb. 
Dispatch, Sir.  Sir Man. 
Sir, I'll— Sir, I will not, Sir! What ha' you to do to make me fight? or ride Post either? whether I will or no, Sir?  Ramb. 
No questioning my Authority, speak instantly, I say instantly.  Sir Man. 
I never met with such a fellow in my life.  Ramb. 
You will not speak, Sir.  Sir Man. 
Sir, I'll.—  Ramb. 
What, Sir?—  Sir Man. 
Sir, I'll ride Post, Sir.  Ramb. 
Then come along, Sir;— I'll see you mounted— and attend you, or one shall for me; one forty or fifty miles on the way, no looking o'er your Shoulder, Sir.  Wife. 
Mr. Booby, Mr. Booby. there's a Gentleman runs away with your Master, call a Constable, Thomas, a Constable, come along with me Winny to call a Constable.  Drags him out, Sir Mannerly looks back, and offers to speak, Ramble stops his mouth. Rash. 
Is the Woman mad to make a Hubbub?— hold your tongue.  Wife. 
I will not, he carries away our Son-in-law by force.  Ex. Boob. 
One steal my Master!  (Rash follows her. Mrery. 
No stirring, Sir.  Boob. 
No stirring— What you help to steal him, do you? here Beggar-woman, hold my Bag of Money a little, and I'll try a friskin with him, thou shalt not come at thy Sword, Man.  Gives the Beggar woman, the Bag of Money to hold. (Merry and Booby fight off the Stage. A noise of a Hubbub within, and mean while the Beggar-Woman watches her opportunity, lays down the Child, and runs away with the Money. Enter Ramble and Merry. Ramb. 
This is good, the Constable and the Rabble have seized our Foes; and we the Aggressors have escaped, whilst the two Clowns stick fast in the Mudd of the dirty Crowd; Let's pursue our fortunes, overtake Sir Thomas, and the company, be very impudent and obstinate, and see what that will do.  Merry. 
With all my heart, Sir,— for I do not care for coming within the reach of that heavy fisted fool any more.  Exeunt. Enter Constable, Sir Mannerly, Booby, Rash, Wife, and Winifrid. Sir Man. 
You have let go the Thiefs that would have stolen me, and here you hold my Man and me.  Const. 
Stolen you, Sir? I found this man in actual Battery.  Boob. 
He battered me as much.  Rash. 
Come, come, Son-in-law, never make a bustle on your Wedding-day, give the Constable a spill.  Sir Man. 
There's a spill, but I take my Oath he would have stolen me.  Const. 
No more words on't, come— there, go about your business.  Sir Man. 
Come, Madam, as the Poet says — Per varios casus per tot discrimina rerum. Exeunt. Sir Man. Rash, Wife, and Win.  Boob. 
I think I ploughed his chaps for him; an he had cuffed a little longer, I would ha' pulled up his Nose by the Roots— but where's the Beggar-woman with my bag of Money? look if she has not laid it in the Street, like a baggage, a thousand to one, but it might have been stolen— hay, my bag of Money is alive? a Bastard, a Bastard, (Takes up the Child. stop Thief, stop Thief? a Beggar-woman has run away with a bag of Money, and has left a Bastard in the room; stop Thief, Thief.  (Lays down the Child, and offers to run away. Watch-m. 
Mr. Constable, Mr. Constable, here's a fellow has lain a Child in the Street.  Const. 
Stop him, stop him, knock him down; how now, sirrah, lay a Bastard in the Street!  Boob. 
Is it my Bastard? is it not the Beggar-womans' Bastard, that was a begging here? and has run away with all my Money?  Const. 
She was your Whore, was she, sirrah? here's a fine Plot of a Rogue, neighbours; to make a bustle in the Streets, that his Whore might have an opportunity to lay a Bastard to the Parish: yes, sirrah, the Parish shall maintain such a lusty Rogue as you in Lechery?— come, sirrah, to the House of Correction.  Watch-m. 
Ay, Mr. Constable, whip him, whip him, this way the Parish-money goes; I have been 'sessed above Fifteen shillings this year, for such Rogues unlawful Lecheries.  Boob. 
Whip me! I never saw the Woman before in my life.  Const. 
Then you lay with her in the dark, did you sirrah?  Boob. 
I am but newly come to Town.  Const. 
Then you shall be whipped assoon as you come; a Whipping-Post shall be your welcome.  Boob. 
Whip me if you dare, since you go to that, for I belong to a Critic.  Const. 
A Critic, What's that?  Boob. 
A great Judge, that was he that was here just now.  Const. 
He a Judge? he looks like a Man fit to hold the Scale of Justice indeed; he is more fit to hold a Grocer's Scale; and weigh Plums and Comfits, than Causes.  Const. 
Come, sirrah, I'll let out your hot Blood, I'll Plant a Grove o'Birch in your Arse o'peak.  Boob. 
Oh, Mr. Constable, my Master is a Northern Judge, indeed, and a Baronet, I can prove it.  Const. 
I care not what he is, sirrah; will he put in security to keep the Child, and buy off your Whipping?  Boob. 
Why must he? or must I be whipped?  Const. 
That, Time shall try.  Boob. 
Oh, Mr. Constable, come along; my Master's Worship shall be bound, and give you any content.  Const. 
Well, let's see what he will do.  Exeunt. Enter Sir Tho. Rash, Merry, Christina, La. Faddle, Isabel, Bridget, and Ramble. La. Fad. 
Where have you been Mr. Merry?  Merry, 
Only settling some things about my Estate.  Sir Tho. 
Do not follow, and Tantany us, Mr. Ramble, for I declare positively, thou shalt never have my Daughter.  Chr. 
Mr. Ramble, my Father is engaged to another, but whether he was, or no, the words you said, are never to be forgiven, neither Extravagance, Raillery, Drink, nor nothing can excuse 'em, they have fixed you in my Eternal Hatred; and you are the only thing of all Heaven's Creatures, I abhor.  Ramb. 
Then I am the only wretched thing of the whole Creation, and the more wretched, since I suffer Innocently; for what ever have been my other sins, from that unpardonable one, of Blaspheming your Honour, I am wholly innocent, consider why I should say it, what should move me to it; what did provoke me; and what should I gain by it, when said?  Chr. 
That foppish vain Glory, which possesses all your Sex, of defaming those Women, whose Honours you cannot otherwise abuse.  Sir Tho. 
Why, Sir, what should move me? what provoke me? and what should I gain by telling a lie, Sir?  Isab. 
I swear, Madam, I begin to pity him, and think there's some mistake.  La. Fad. 
I dare not interpose, for fear of discovering the affair, about my Picture—  Mer. 
Come, Sweetheart, you are the chief Person concerned; you must resign your claim to this Lady— for Jack Ramble is my friend, and though I know nothing of the business, I know he is Innocent, because I know him to be an honest fellow; but whether innocent or no, I will have Matters made up; for in plain terms, if my friend may not Bed the Woman, he loves, I will not Bed the Woman I love; I will never be happy, while my friend is miserable.  La. Fad. 
How, Mr. Merry?  Sir Tho. 
Let me alone with him, Madam; Sir, what have you to do to intermeddle in my affairs; Bed who you will, Sir, and what you will, Sir; but if you say, he did not say these words, I give you the Lie, and there's my Glove.  Merry. 
Take your Glove, Sir, your Hand is old, and will catch cold.  Ramb. 
Some Devil has appeared to him in my shape, and said this.  Enter Betty Frisk. and Siss. Betty. 
Oh dear, have I met with your Ladyship? (To La. Fad.) this is lucky, if ever you will be kind to me in your life, Madam, take me into your company— I have been abroad but two hours, and my Lord has been to seek me in such a rage, that if you do not excuse me, it will be a parting quarrel.  Ramb. 
Betty Frisque here? how do my sins follow me? what shall I do? now I think on't, she dares no more own the knowledge of me, than I dare of her: my standing virtue, Impudence, must aid me  La. Fad 
Why dost thou do this, Betty?  Enter Lord Drybone. L. Dry. 
So Gentlewoman, are you herded?— ha', what do I see here, her Father? that's he I saw last night; I'm sure on't; I remember his Face again, though I saw him in the dark, very well, Sir, take your Daughter again, I am very glad 'tis you she runs to, I thought to have found her in worse company; there, Sir, take her, take her, and make the best of her.  (To Sir Thomas. Sir Tho. 
My Daughter, Sir; to whom do you speak, Sir?  Ramb. 
What, more mistakes?  L. Dry. 
To you, Sir?  Sir Tho. 
To me, Sir? I am as good a man as yourself, Sir.  L. Dry. 
As good a man, Sir.  Merry. 
Hold, hold, gentlemans.  L. Dry. 
Sir, I am a person of Honour, Sir.  Sir Tho. 
And I am a person of Quality, Sir.  L. Dry. 
Well, Sir, be of what quality you will, Sir, you came last night to my door with Fiddles, and challenged me for debauching your Daughter, Sir, than you could own her in the dark, for your own pleasure, Sir; and now I will make you own her for mine; and as I told you last night, she had been debauched, before I touched her; so I tell you again, if she had not, perhaps I would have considered her.  Ramb. 
The mistake comes out.  Sir Tho. 
Hold, my Lord, was not you in your Nightgown and Drawers?  L. Dry. 
Yes, Sir, and you was in a Buff Coat.  Sir Tho. 
Mr. Ramble, where art thou, wilt thou forgive me? canst thou forgive me? honest Mr. Ramble forgive me.  Ramb. 
Now Madam.  Sir Tho. 
My Lord, I thank you hearty for this discovery, you have cleared up a mistake, in which I persisted to the injury of an honest Gentleman; but now I will do myself and him right; know then, this Gentleman is a Servant to my Daughter, and this is my Daughter I challenged you about, and finding him something Airy and Wild, was desirous to hinder the Match and he passing by my door with Fiddles last night I, in a rage, pursued him to your Lordships, and mistaking your Lordship for him, in the dark, I challenged you with intentions of debauching my Daughter, and your Reply entangled us in difficulties, which now are vanished.  L. Dry. 
Then this is the Lady, it seems, was Serenaded.  To Christina. Ramb. 
The same, my Lord, the Playing at your door was but a blind.—  Betty. 
No, no, 'twas to me.  Chr. 
He brings himself off wittily.  L. Dry, 
But hold, Sir, now I remember, you came to draw her Picture to day.  Chr. 
Has he that trick too?  Ramb. 
I did so.  Betty. 
Ay, ay, I have an Intrigue with him.  Ramb. 
But it was only for divertisement, I never saw her before in my life.  Betty. 
Why do you say so? 'twas an appointment, well, my Lord, you and I must part, you see how false I am.  L. Dry. 
Dear Betty, forgive me, I see thou hast more Virtue and Goodness, than I have Estate to Reward; live with me again, and I will become a new Creature.  Betty. 
That must be by some very strange miracle indeed, that an old Man should become a new Creature— but however, mend as much as you will, I shall never mend, I shall continue my Intrigues with Picture-Drawers, and Pages, and Hackney-Coachmen— and every Man I can come near.—  L. Dry. 
Oh, do not Treat me thus severely, I have injured thy Virtue, but I will make thee recompense for my life, and all the pleasure of it lies in thy Favour.  Betty. 
No, no, this keeping of old Women, by you old Sinners, is but done out of a scurvy custom, not any need you have: like old Snuff-takers, that cannot live without Snuff, though it never makes 'em sneeze; do but break yourself of the custom for one month, and you will find no want: but come, since you are humbled, I make a proposal; Promise before all this noble Company, to make a settlement of 500 l. a year, on me for life, that if we ever quarrel, I may have something to trust to, and I will return to my Dominion again, and govern you as formerly.  L. Dry. 
I engage it, and you shall have it drawn by what Lawyers you please.  Betty. 
Then I am yours in the new-fashioned Matrimony for ever.  L. Dry. 
I am as formerly, your most obsequious Keeper.  Sir Tho. 
Oh, these are fine do, but I say nothing.  Ramb. 
Now Madam, it is my turn to quarrel, and be unkind.  Chr. 
Yes indeed, you had need boast of your Innocence; witness the Importunate Temptations of a young Lady, which you manfully resisted last night, and could by no means be brought to her embraces, witness this Creature, whose Picture it seems you drew, an Excellence I never knew you had till now.  Ramb. 
Oh, forgive me, I acknowledge my faults with grief and penitence, I am amazed, how it was possible for me to think of any thing but you, but hopes of Love, are like the prospect of a fair Street, a great way off, and you cannot blame a poor thirsty Traveller, if he takes a sip here and there by the way—  (Knelt. Sir Tho. 
How on thy Knees Mr. Ramble? I swear, we rather ought to kneel to thee. Rise, rise, Man, were I not to forfeit a thousand pound Bond, thou shouldst have my Daughter before any Man.  Ramb. 
Say you so, Sir, Dirt shall never be laid in the Scale with Beauty, I will pay the forfeiture.  Isab. 
This is brave, I swear, now Madam, you are bound in Honour and Gratitude to forgive him.  Sir Tho. 
Mr, Ramble, this is so generous a Proposition, that I will pay the forfeiture of the Bond, give thee my Daughter, and a Thousand pound more, with her, than ever I designed for her Portion, with any Man— take her— she's thine.  Chr. 
Well, Sir, I hope you will give over your Picture-Drawing.  Ramb. 
Now I am in Heaven, and all my sins forgiven, upbraid me not with them; I will Draw no Pictures but my own, and those never without your help.  La. Fad. 
How, Sir Thomas, will you use my Nephew thus scurvily?  Merry. 
How, will you oppose my desire? Resist my Virgin authority.  La. Fad. 
Mr. Merry, I will not have my Nephew thus abused:  (Enter Sir Mannerly, Winifrid, Porter, and Wife) 
See, he has found us.  Sir Man. 
My Lady Aunt, wish me joy.  La. Fad. 
Wish thee joy, Sweetheart, for what? for losing thy Bride? here is Sir Thomas Rash, after all our Articles, is going unworthily, to bestow his Daughter upon another.  Sir Man. 
How, Aunt? you do not know Sir Thomas Rash when you see him, nor his Daughter neither— sure I have her fast enough, I am married to her already, and here she is.  Chr. 
This the Creature that was designed for me? bless me! what a deliverance have I had?  Sir Man. 
This Sir Mannerly.  La. Fad. 
What dost thou say; art thou Married to that Girl?  Sir Tho. 
Married to my Porter's Daughter? this fellow is my Porter, Madam, and his Wife is my Applewoman.  Sir Man. 
Your Porter, What's that?  La. Fad. 
He goes of Errands for Groats and Testors, and Pence, this is Sir Thomas Rash, and this is his Daughter.  Sir Man. 
How! am I cozened so? is this Sir Thomas Rash? and is this his Daughter?— are you no Sir Thomas, and you not my Lady, and do you go of Errands for Groats, and Pence? and do you sell Apples?  Por. 
Faith Son, 'tis a folly to disown it, now all is done; these are our Occupations, I am no Knight, but of your dubbing; you would dubb me a Knight, whether I would or no— I was not ambitious of the Honor.  Wife. 
Well, though we are poor folks, we are Honest and True.  Sir Man. 
Honest and True; sirrah come back and Un-marry me again.  (Beats the Porter. Sir Tho. 
Hold, hold, Sir Mannerly, now 'tis too late; how came this mistake, Tom?  Por. 
My being your worship's Namesake, caused it, he would needs bear me down, I was your Honour, and Mary my Daughter, in spite of my Teeth.  La. Fad. 
Oh, how hast thou dishonoured our Family?  Sir Man. 
Fear not, Aunt, I'll Feague 'em; Porter, I'll make it a scurvy Errand to you; and Applewoman, your Daughter shall be a costly Pippin to you.  Wife. 
Do your worst.  Enter Constable and Booby, with a Child in his Arms. Boob. 
Here's his Worship; oh an't like your Worship, shall if you won't be bound to maintain this Child for me, I to prison, and be whipped presently.  Sir Man. 
Maintain that Child? what ha' you got a Bastard since you came to Town already?  Boob. 
'Tis a Beggar-womans' Bastard, I never saw in my days before.  Sir Man. 
Get a Bastard of a Beggar-woman in a days time? do they breed so fast in London? that's faster than our tame Coneys do; no wonder, London is so full of People.  Boob. 
An't like your Worship, I never saw, or touched the Woman, or any Woman I never lay with any Woman in my life; give me a Book, I'll kiss it upon it.  Sir Man. 
How could you come by this Bastard then?  Boob. 
I did not come by it, it came by me; I gave a Beggar-woman the bag of Money to hold, whilst I cufft with the Thief's Man that would have stole you, and she lays down the Bastard, and runs away with the bag of Money.  Sir Man. 
How, lost my bag o' Money; then be whipped, I'll keep none o' the Bastard.  Const. 
Then come along, Sir.  Sir Tho. 
Have pity on the poor fellow.  Sir Man, 
No, since he would not keep my bag o' Money, I won't keep his Bastard.  Boob. 
Oh, an't like your Worship, be but bound for me; I'll keep it myself— I'll serve it out.  Sir Man. 
Well then Applewoman, since I am Married, do you keep my Man Booby's Bastard for nothing; that shall be for a Portion with your Daughter.  Wife. 
I don't care if I do, the Child is a fine likely Child.  Sir Man. 
Well, I scorn to be beholden to you, I will pay for the keeping of it; but Booby, I will send you down quickly into the Country, if you get Bastards thus fast,  Sir Tho. 
Mr. Constable, discharge the Man, I'll see that the Gentleman, his Master, perform his word.  Const. 
Well then, o' your word, Sir Thomas, I release him.  Sir Man. 
So, I have come up to London to a very fine purpose; I ha' lost my Mistress, lost my Money, am Married to an Apple-womans' Daughter, and must keep a Beggar-womans' Bastard; whereas, I thought to have lived in London, and never seen the Country more: I will now do down into the Country, and spend all my time in railing against London: I will never see London more, so much as in a Map, I will burn my Map of London that hangs in my Parlour-  Sir Tho. 
A very Honest, and as the times are, Pious and Wholesome Resolution, Sir Mannerly; better live in the Country, and burn your Map of London, than live in London, and spoil your Map of Humanity, with Drinking and Wenching.  Port. 
I, Son-in-Law, better go into the Country, and live lovingly with my Daughter, than stay in Town, and turn her away, and keep a Wench in her stead, as Gentry do that Marry, and live here.  Sir Man. 
Why, do they?  Wife. 
Ay, the more shame for 'em.  Sir Man. 
Then I'm resolved I'll stay in London, and Booby, you can find Bastards; do you find a Wench for me.  Wife. 
Keep a Wench under my Winny's Nose, I'll tear her Eyes out.  Sir Tho. 
I will dissuade him, well, Sir Mannerly, I am very sorry for the misfortune you have met with in coming to Town for my Alliance; I will cancel the Bond to make you some recompense; and since my Daughter is not so happy to enjoy you, let my House have the Honour to entertain you; whither I also invite the rest of this Noble Company: my Lady Faddle and her Husband, my Lord Drybone, and his Settlement; and Tom Rash, and thy Wife, be of our Society now; this Noble Alliance has advanced thee; be a Knight to day, and Prince of Porters for ever, and thy Wife, Lady of Apple-women: I will have both your Statues made in Gingerbread, and set up in Costermongers-Hall, and Noble Brides and Bridegrooms all walk in,  
And Love apace, as fast as you can drive,  
And may the Trade of Love for ever Thrive.  Exeunt.   
FINIS.   

EPILOGUE.  
Spoken by Sir Mannerly Shallow, the Countrey-Wit.  
BRothers, I'm newly come to Town from Cumber-Land, to be one of your ingenious Number.  
I am afraid, I shall disgrace you all,  
But I'm resolved; I will a damning fall;  
Since you have ten ill Plays, for one good Play,  
I think to damn 'em all, the safest way.  
But I in all things, Sirs, shall copy you,  
And save or damn, as you great Judges do.  
As for the Poet, who is tried to day,  
I know him not, and so can little say;  
If all in his Petition here, be true  
He did not write this Play (Great Wits) for you.  
He says, long since, you mighty Judges swore,  
That you would never ride this Circuit more;  
That you have ta'en the Malefactor napping,  
He writ for Wits of London-Bridge and Wapping.  
Who hate to see a Muse in Buskins strut,  
As much as in gilt Coach, a gaudy Slut,  
That his defence, he's unprepared to make,  
Yet for an Honour does your Presence take,  
〈…〉 ayes, he does it more Renown esteem,  
〈…〉 by you, than to be saved by them.  
〈…〉 for my sake, let all his faults be waved,  
〈…〉 not the first damned Poet I have saved.