THE MALL: OR THE Modish Lovers. A COMEDY. Acted by His Majesty's Servants.  
Inceptis nulla Potestas.  
LONDON, Printed for William Cademan, at the Popes-head in the lower Walk of the New Exchange in the Strand. 1674.   

TO WILLIAM WHITCOMB, junior, Esq  
I Need not plead the privilege, which the Tribe of Scribblers may lay claim too in Dedications, since your favours excuse these weak respects I pay you in a public acknowledgement. All the interest I have in the Play, is inferior to the Glory I take, in seeing your Name fixed in the Frontispiece; which methinks, gives it a resemblance to the Structure of Minda, where the Porch far exceeds the House. I know you have a Victorious Soul, and thence I do myself the Honour (not without policy too, especially in the time of threatening Thunder, when Demicracks of the Town, according to custom, will bark at Shadows) to run under your Laurel, to avoid the Clap. Many there are yet to unload their Mouth Granades, those especially whose own actions were advise to the Painter▪ yet for any Gentleman to become an infected mock Critic for Fashion sake, is as much beneath his credit as to wear a Velvet Coat, when every john-a-nokes presumes the fashion. I am very much in pain for the violence done to my inclination, whereby I am forbid to acknowledge the Person, and Obligations done to the Play, only (as 'tis said) in favour to my interest. What e'er the reason be, I think the Play highly advanced in lying at your Feet; But in the mean while I pray, 'twere in my power to present you with something Heroic, and like yourself. I am proud 〈◊〉 you want no Soul, but Titles to 〈…〉 popular, and wishing you the measure of your Worth, I think it duty to subscribe myself, the  
Humblest of all your Creatures, I. D. Poetis nulla Potestas.   

The Prologue.  
WHen you cry Poets down, and damn 'em thus,  
Like Vipers slain, they grow more numerous:  
Like to Aegypt's Plagues around you swarm,  
But you are proof against such common charm:  
We know that none, beside a first rate Wit,  
Can please the grand Inhabiters o'th' Pit;  
While others work's, each Ninny of the Town,  
Takes privilege to damn for half a Crown.  
Our Muse wants complaisance, knows not the Court,  
Although she fain would be a prostitute;  
Her walks are very near, and there you'll find,  
Her Evening love, too soft to be unkind:  
Yet those that Critics are, for fashion sake  
Will judge this dull, which scarce is a mistake;  
And finding one fault, will make ten times more,  
Oft force a flaw where there was none before.  
Yet if your bisses' poison, this he sues  
You would some lingering, painful sentence choose.  
Prove Tyrants, and with leisure till the third day, kill.  
Thunder Damnation then, and what you will.   

Dramatis Personae.  
Mr. Easy. 
An old Husband.  Courtwell 
His Kinsman, a brisk Gallant, newly arrived from Spain.  Lovechange. 
Privately married to Mrs. Woodbee.  Sir Ralph Spatter. 
A foolish Country Knight, Rival to Amorous.  Jo. 
His Man.  Amorous 
Servant to Grace, and Nephew to Mr's Woodbee.  Mrs. Easy 
Young Wife to old Easy.  Mrs. Woodbee. 
 Grace 
In love with Amorous, and Never to old Easy.  Perigreen 
Alias Camilla, a Spanish Lady Disguise.  Peg 
Woman to Mrs. Easie.  Clare 
Woman to Mrs. Woodbee.  Betty 
Woman to Grace.   
Scene St. James' Park, with the adjacent Places.   

THE MALL: OR THE Modish Lovers.  

Actus Primus,  

Scena Prima.  Enter Lovechange solus. Lov. 
A Pox of this Love, how damned and Idle t'has made me, here have I marched a long half hour, which Egad is an Age to me, to wait for this Ambassador of my amorous Negotiation, pray Heaven no Rival of mine leads her into Temptation!  
Oh Lady! Enter Peg.  Peg. 
O Lord! What make you here so early?  Lov. 
Oh Peg, thou knowst Love is a restless Bedfellow, Peg, alas, who could sleep, that could but hope the blessing of seeing thy sweet Mistress. Peg, Well, what news, what news, from Cupid's Court Wench, ha'! Will she be kind, and consider my Passion, faith I am but a dead Man without a little comfort.  Peg. 
Faith Sir, I am not idle in your behalf, I take all opportunities (which is) when her Husband's out of the way, to let her know my thoughts of you, which I'll assure you Sir are most advantageous.  Lov. 
I am beholding to thee Peg.  Peg. 
But you know Sir, she's a married Woman, and aught to be very cautious.  Lov. 
Oh Peg, I love her with a virtuous Flame, believe me I do! and if thou wouldst but swear and lie, and use a small kind of Treachery in the Case—  Peg. 
You need not doubt such small services Sir— But—  Lov. 
But thou must be a little encouraged, is it so? Here, here's a pair of Angels to invite thee to speak.— gives her Money.  Peg. 
Do you take me for Balaams' Ass Sir, that can't speak without a Prompter, however Sir, you court me in no common Language.  Lov. 
Oh thou art a Saint, that will despise a Prayer, made in the vulgar Tongue, here Proxy, here's my Hand, and Seal, get it delivered, and further the design.  Peg. 
I, but Sir, is there no harm in't?  Lov. 
What dost thou call harm?  Peg. 
I mean Sir, is there nothing, but what I may carry with Honour?  Lov. 
Fie, fie Peg, dost think I'd make a Bawd of thee?  Peg. 
I hope you would not at my years.  Lov. 
Right, having so many yet to come of the kind and amorous ones, But this Letter Peg is only to invite thy Mistress into the Park to night. I know the Evening will be fair, and if she can make an escape from that old impotent Lecher her Husband, I shall be glad to kiss her hands there.  Peg. 
Is this all?  Lov. 
Upon my Life.  Peg. 
Then rest in hope, for I dare promise ye.  Lov. 
Farewell dear Peg.  Peg. 
Your Servant sweet Mr. Lovechange. Exit Peg.  Enter Courtwell who meets Lovechange going out. Lov. 
Courtwell!  Court. 
Lovechange, I have been a dozen times at thy Lodging to see thee, but, like the Devil, thou art always ranging about, seeking whom thou canst devour.  Lov. 
Thou hast small reason to accuse me Courtwell, for since thy arrival from Spain I have not enjoyed thee at our old rate; we were wont to Whose, and drink together like loving Brothers in Iniquity, but I think thou now hast taken up a little of the Formality of the Climate, and dost all thy Debaucheries in secret.  Court. 
No Ned, I have rather learned the sobriety of that Nation, and have left off those lewd courses.  Lov. 
Nay, if thou be'st come to that, to call 'em lewd thou'dst better e'en have stayed amongst 'em, for thou art unfit for this Town Egad Will.  Court. 
I think I had not so soon abandoned that agreeable place, but for the Commands of my Uncle Easy, upon whom my Fortune does so depend, that I dare not disobey him in any thing.  Lov. 
What, I'll warrant ye, he has that old fashioned design of Matrimony in his head, he means to marry thee.  Court. 
Some such thing.  Lov. 
And who is the wretched thing, I pray?  Court. 
The rich Widow Wou'dbee, she's damned ill-favoured, and they say as ill natured, but she'll serve for a Wife Ned.  Lov. 
How, the Widow Wou'dbee— my Wife Egad! aside  Court. 
Yes the very same.  Lov. 
Hark ye William, I don't like the match William!  Court. 
Your Reasons?  Lov. 
I have divers, and sundry— That must be nameless aside  Court. 
Let's hear a few of them.  Lov. 
Why, first she's Old, next Jealous, she is, to Damnation, Proud, Expensive, and—  Court. 
This is all nothing.  Lov. 
She is beside— a Plague on him I dare not discover— aside  Court. 
What Sir?  Lov. 
Nay, nay dear heart, no passion prithee, for she's very honest, which makes her very insolent.  Court. 
Oh I am glad 'twas no worse.  Lov. 
Worse! Nay here's ill qualities enough for one Woman a Conscience— But prithee was there never a Dona in all Spain worthy your kindness, but you must come back to England, and like a jew, be forced to Wed in your own Tribe, ha'!  Court. 
Prithee don't call any Sins to remembrance, Oh Friend! I had a Mistress in Spain, and such a Mistress, so kind, so fair—  Lov. 
And so tired you out with loving, was't not so? Ay there's the Devil on't.  Court. 
No, in an unhappy Adventure wherein I took the party of an English Cavaleir my Friend, I killed her Brother, who was of Quality sufficient to cause me to fear the inquisition, so I was forced to quit Spain, and meeting with the Command of my Uncle—  Lov. 
You soon lost the thoughts of your Mistress, and I shall advise you, as you love health and liberty! two excellent qualities, to lose the thoughts of this Widow too.  Court. 
Nay, since I cannot marry where I like, I'll e'en marry for a World of Money, that's the next way, and the nearest I know to happiness, therefore I am resolved to put on the Fetters.  Lov. 
Pox on't they'll jingle after thee at that rate that all pretty Ladies will shun thee for a fusty Husband, and who would be tied up from Ranging.  Court. 
There are Ladies Ned, who consider not the Man, but his Pockets, half a piece for a clean pair of Sheets, half a Crown for a thrice retailed Bottle of Rhenish, and—  Lov. 
The Pox into the bargain.  Court. 
The Pox in others will be but the Gout in me.  Enter a Boy. Boy. 
Your Uncle Sir, stays for you to go make a visit to the Widow Woodbee.  Court. 
I'll attend him.  Lov. 
You ought to ask me leave first Sir, if you knew all— 'tis well I am not a jealous Husband, and 'tis better I have no tempting Wife. [aside] Well Sir you will go then—  Court. 
Without doubt.  Lov. 
Well Love speed you Sir, 'tis well you're young enough to spare some hours, for o'my Conscience 'tis mere loss of time.  Court. 
Farewell, farewel Sir, ha', ha', ha'.  Lov. 
Let them laugh that win Sir, adieu.  Exeunt severally.  

Scene Second.  Enter Perigreene, and Servant. Perig. 
For Mrs. Woodbee at her house in Reading the superscription of a Letter.  
St. James' street,— London.—  
Sure 'tis hereabout.  Ser. 
This must be the house I'll knock till they answer. knocks  Enter Clare. 
Is this the Lady Woodbee's, Sweetheart?  Clare. 
It is Sir, may I know your affairs with her, for she is a little busy at present.  Per. 
I am a Stranger by Nation a Spaniard, and bring her Letters from her Brother who is Consul there.  Clare. 
Please you walk in Sir.— They go in and return.  Per. 
Well Diego, thus far our business is prosperous, we are arrived to a Land, rich, and beautiful, and where the civility of the Inhabitants give me all the encouragement I can expect, grant ye gods I may find out this perfidious Renigado of Love, and I'll forgive what e'er you make me suffer another way.  Enter Mrs. Woodbee and Clare. 
Madam, you I take it are the Lady to whom I am addressed, & these will inform you, why I take this freedom. Gives her Letters, she reads  Would. 
Sir, I am not only obliged by the Laws of good manners, and civility to receive you well as a Stranger, but the Character my Brother gives me of you, binds me to a more strict observance: Sir, you're welcome, believe so, and command my house.  Per. 
Madam, you honour me, and if I take a freedom that unbecomes me, charge it on your bounty, not my boldness.  Wood 
A pretty youth introth Clare, is it not?  Clare. 
Yes indeed Madam.  Enter Mr. Easie and Courtwell. Per. 
Madam, I'll take my leave for a few hours to see the City, which done I'll wait on you again. kisses her hand.  Easy. 
So, right Woman, can no more be without a Man, than a Puritan without his Bible.  Court. 
The Widow looks very amorous upon him, methinks 'tis a fine Youth. To Easy aside.  Wood 
Mr. Easy, Sir your servant.  Easy. 
No interruption, Lady, no interruption.  Wood 
None in the World Sir I protest, this is a Person of Worth and Merit, recommended to me by the only Brother I have, and for whose sake besides his own I am obliged to pay him my respects.  Easy. 
By my faith, and he deserves it Lady, he is handsome, and young— But Lady, I have, once more, brought my Nephew to wait on you, and to know your resolution concerning those propositions I made you of Marriage, I'll make short work on't, I'm no Courtier, but let him speak for himself, he can talk many fine things of Love, and the like— In the mean time I'll take a turn in the Garden. Exit Easie  Per. 
gods! Is not that Courtwell? I must withdraw, or die; in what a happy hour am I arrived, to be a witness of his injustice! Oh Fortune! thou hast recompensed me for all the injuries thou hast done me, [aside] Madam! your humble Servant, it shall not be many hours before I kiss your hands again.  Wood 
They will seem many to me, Exit Perigreen looking with scorn on Courtwell. believe me Gentle Sir.  Court. 
I find Widow, though you profess a great deal of cruelty, and coldness to me, you can be kind too, when you please.  Wood 
I am sorry you should take me for an insensible Mr. Courtwell, though for many reasons I am forced to say I cannot admit of any concern for yourself, in a Word Sir I have reasons (that must be secret ones) to tell you, I cannot entertain your passion, I am a Person Sir, that—  Court. 
Seems to have heat enough about you Widow for half a score, faith view me well, I am a straight chined fellow, clean limbed, and sweet, and dare promise as much as any Man.  Wood 
And perform as little as most Men; Well, just thus did my Husband promise before I had him, and now, though even in the Non age of our Marriage, nay before the Wedding Sheets were sufficiently tumbled, I find him as reasonable a quiet Soul, as heart can wish. aside  Court. 
What is't you consult on Widow.  Wood 
In earnest Sir, I am past consideration, for I am resolved upon the matter.  Court. 
Not to marry?  Wood 
By no means Sir, not you.  Court. 
Why then the Devil take thee for making me lose so much of my precious time, why thou Unmerciful, Insatiable Widow, that art not only content, to let me miss of thee, but the opportunity of gaining at least a dozen hearts of perhaps handsomer Women than thyself Widow.  Wood 
How Mr. Courtwell, handsomer! you are rude Sir, I must tell you.  Court. 
Handsomer! Why thou didst not take thyself to be a Beauty sure! but yet thou hast charms Widow in bank, which are allurements I confess, and 'twas well thou hadst 'em at these years.  Wood 
Years— Certainly I don't pass for a Sibyl with you? this is beyond all patience, Clare, where's Mr. Easie?  Clare. 
Taking a turn i'th' Garden Madam.  Wood 
Let him come and carry off his scurvy Nephew here, or I shall set my Footman to do it in a more undecent manner: years quoth of!  Court. 
Fie on't, Age makes thee testy Widow, ha', ha', ha'.  Enter Easie. Wood 
Oh intolerable Mr. Easie, do you bring your Kinsman to affront me?  Easy. 
How Lady! Cock's bodikins, you mistake him 'tis the new way of making Love, he's a spark of the times Lady, and Courts A-la-mode.  Wood 
Mr. Easy I know you mean well, and for your Lady's sake, who is a virtuous Gentlewoman, you are always welcome to my House, your Kinsman too, I looked upon as a proper Gentleman, and one that I was Redivable too, for the passion he professed to me, but now he has discovered so disagreeable a quality, that really I am forced to say I do not like his conversation, nor his address.  Easy. 
Address Lady? I know not what you mean by address, but I am sure his Estate is worth a thousand pound per annum, and a better penny, and do you talk of his address?  Court. 
Uncle say no more, leave her to her own peevish humour, and the bare imagination of so likely a young fellow as myself. Widow I am resolved to have thee my way, or no way, so adieu dear Widow, I have other game in hand, beside, tolerated going to't, and so farewell Widow. Exit. Courtwell.  Easy. 
Kinsman, come back I say.  Wood 
Sir, 'tis in vain, let him go, for I am resolved never to dispose of myself that way, this is my final resolution.  Easy. 
Is it so, than your Nephew, young Mr. Amorous, shall never have my Niece Grace, and that's my final resolution. Exit. Easy.  Enter at the other door Mrs. Easie. Mrs. Easy. 
Sweet Mrs. Woodbee, your Servant, what looks are these that cloud your smiles to day! What's the matter Friend?  Wood 
Mrs. Easy I beg your pardon really, I did not see you, I have been so ill treated by some friends of yours—  Mrs. Easy. 
Of mine! let me know who they are, and I'll secure you I'll own 'em to be no more so.  Wood 
On my Conscience thou wilt keep thy word, for 'twas thy most filthy Husband.  Mrs. Easy. 
My Husband! Nay I believe it, for in good earnest Mrs. Woodbee, he is kind and civil to no body, nay, if you knew the daily, aye, and nightly torment too I have from him, you would not wonder at his incivility to you.  Wood 
Nay, I believe indeed, you have very slender comfort of him, but alas, what can you expect from an old fusty fellow, that is even past the years of wishing well to our Sex—  Mrs. Easy. 
You are in the right, Lord if I could but tell you the story of all my sufferings of that kind, but I ought not to complain, when there's no hopes left of remedy. sighs.  Wood 
So, I hope I have an occasion to be revenged on this Husband of hers, and help contrive his being made a Cuckold, Hang me, if I am not infinitely raised with the thoughts on't, ah sweet Vengeance! how I love thee! (aside)  
Come, I am no Woman if I don't fancy what thou'lt be at, nay, and 'tis but just and reasonable: 'Slife for Women of our youth, and all that, to languish away in sickly imagination; No, no, thou shalt make use of what Nature has bestowed on thee, so much Beauty to be buried alive, with an old rotten Carcase.—  Mrs. Easy. 
What do you mean Madam?  Wood 
That, which thou meanest. Come Friend I know thy Soul, thou shalt Cuckold this Fellow.  Mrs. Easy. 
How! Cuckold my Husband, forbidden it!  Wood 
Husband! Why what virtue is there in that Name, does the old Fool act like one? What duty of a Husband do you receive from him, ha'?  Mrs. Easy. 
That indeed is true. But—  Wood 
I know you Married him out of humour, because you were in Love with another Man, but that Man, you have never yet confessed to me.  Mrs. Easy. 
That shan't be long a secret, dear Friend, if this counsel you give me, proceed from your real thoughts?  Wood 
So, let me thrive in the like success, when I have so great a provocation as thou hast, if I be not in earnest, I say again enjoy thyself. I say be kind, be gay, and live for ever.  Mrs. Easy. 
And be a Whore? I blush to name it!  Wood 
I see thou'rt willing, and I long to be revenged on the Insolency of thy Husband. (aside) Why look ye Mrs. Easie? You may call yourself what you please, but so long as you can keep your own Counsel, you are pure, and unstained in the eyes of all the World.  Mrs. Easy. 
I confess, when I look upon Mr. Easy as a very useless Man to me, and how little Felicity I enjoy with him, I cannot scruple much at the thing proposed. And therefore to be plain with you, I must own there is a Man, and such a Man—  Wood 
I such a Man, I like, forward—  Mrs. Easy. 
'Tis the same that once made honourable Love to me, but he had no Fortune, and I, not much, which parted us; And he has since, (by what good fortune I know not) raised himself in the World, for he's full of Money, which, managed by a strange liberality natural to him, is every day sacrificed to me in Presents, and many entertainments.  Wood 
Now thou speakest as if thou understood'st thyself.  Mrs. Easy. 
He is beside a Gentleman, young, and infinitely agreeable.  Wood 
'Slife thou'lt make me Rival thee.  Mrs. Easy. 
He is extremely solicitous for a meeting, I mean such a one, as may afford him, all I have to give. Hides her face  Wood 
And hast thou the heart to refuse him this?  Mrs. Easy. 
Conscience, Conscience, Madam!  Wood 
Away, with those silly thoughts, come, if thou be'st certain of his Love, recompense it for shame.  Mrs. Easy. 
I received a Letter from him this very Morning, and I vow, I need counsel how to answer it, for 'tis to meet him this Evening in St. Iame's Park— Here's the Letter. Gives her the Letter.  Wood 
Before I read it, I protest you shall promise to meet him, nay, and as he desires too, or lose my Friendship for an unwitty Woman.  Mrs. Easy. 
Well, you have prevailed, I'll swear to you to follow your Counsel.  Wood 
Well said, now I'll see in what pleasing stile he writes.  Reads. 
Madam, 'tis strange, that after so many Vows, and protestations, you should still remain an Infidel! Why is it? You will force me to some Extravagance that unbecomes a Man, and the secrecy of that Flame I have for you, to express my Soul in: For Love's sake, for mine, whom once you said, you loved, and more, for your own Honour's sake, force me not into a stark madness that will undo us all.  
I vow he writes most passionately, oh do not force him to any despair, but be kind— Well, I'll read it out.  
You have a Husband, and I have (Hell take 'em) other concerns too, that require my secret carrying on of this affair of Love. Therefore meet me this Night in St. James' Pel Mal, or expect to have me dead, or worse to morrow.  
Yours Lovechange.  starts. 
Ha! It cannot be! Lovechange! 'Tis Witchcraft, this, Lovechange, Hell! 'Tis not his hand, oh but I am too well assured it is— Let me disguise my Rage, and strive against Nature. aside  Mrs. Easie. 
Well, what think you of't Madam?  Wood 
I think all Men are false, and that Woman whose honour is trusted in their hands, a ruined thing.  Mrs. Easy. 
Have you met with aught there that has wrought this sudden change in you, if Women be not as false too, then how came you thus altered? Was it to get this secret of my Life from me, and then betray it? Bad Woman, farewell. Offers to go.  W. 
She must not go thus, nor must I discover, [aside] Mrs. Easy, come, be not angry with me, nor suspect me, your Letter only made me call to mind some former passages of my Life, In which I was betrayed; 'Twas such another Man as this you have described, and such a Letter too, betrayed me, once, to ruin, but you may keep your word, for this perhaps is real. [aside] I'll counterplot you though.  Mrs. Easy. 
If there be truth in Man, this cannot err, and believe he speaks all truths to me.  Wood 
It may be so to you, but false to me, as thou art to thy Honour. Aside.  Mrs. Easy. 
Madam, Methinks I find a sudden alteration in you, I am sorry I have occasioned it, pardon my ignorance.  Wood 
Indeed you have put a melancholy thought into me, but 'twil not last.  Mrs. Easy. 
I'll take my leave, it may be you would be alone, when you are disposed for't, I'll come and let you know my Adventure with Lovechange.  Wood 
Oh how she stabs me! as if she'd sound the mortal vein, (aside) your servant sweet Mrs. Easie, however you leave me now, I assure you the Relation of that Amorous adventure, will be very Cordial to me, as I shall order the matter— Exit Mrs. Easy Now Wit and Woman help me! Enter Clare.  Clare. 
Here's your Kinsman Mr. Amorous, Madam.  Wood 
Let him come in.  Enter Amorous. 
How now Nephew, thou look'st ill upon't.  Amor. 
As well as a successless Lover can do.  Wood 
What still whining after Mrs. Grace? I'll tell you Nephew, I'd rather thou shouldst never marry, then be obliged to that old fool Easie for thy admittance.  Amor. 
Madam, I was the most acceptable pretender, but I know not what Devil has possessed him; For he comes into her Chamber just now, and finding me there, very full of choler, forbade me her presence, and his house, and told me what Treatment Mr. Courtwell found from you, I should receive there for the future.  Wood 
He has done well, I tell thee, I hate him, take a secret which thou knowst not. This fellow being vastly rich, had got my good will to marry me, the day was assigned, the things provided; Over night, he by chance saw a woman of something (as she, and he thought) a better Face, and married her. This, from my Pride, I do so stomach that I can never forgive.  Amor. 
Yet, you seem to be very kind to the Lady, Madam?  Wood 
I do so, and will revenge the affront I warrant thee.  Amor. 
But Madam, though you love not him, let not the Niece in your opinion inherit the crimes of the Uncle, give me leave to adore her, for she's all sweet and innocent.  Wood 
I am not so ill natured, but I will say, that if without her Uncles leave you can gain her, (for I scorn thou shouldst be a suitor to him for any thing) I give my consent, for besides my aversion to the old Man, I have a secret Reason not to marry Courtwell, which you shall know hereafter. I have some affairs of my own to dispatch before Night.  Amor. 
Madam I'll follow your directions in all things.  Wood 
Cousin, I had forgot to tell you, that there is a young Man, a Person of Quality, arrived from Spain, from your Uncle there, he has made my house his home, and pray treat him kindly.  Amor. 
I shall obey you Madam.  Exeunt Woodbee, and Amorous severally. Enter Mrs. Easie, and Peg. Peg. 
I am very glad Madam, that you are at last resolved to oblige Mr. Lovechange, I'll swear he's almost wild for your answer.  Mrs. Easy. 
When will he call for't?  Peg. 
Madam, he's walking here hard by, or will be immediately, have you writ?  Mrs. Easy. 
No, but you may let him know my mind, that is, that I will be in the Mall, as soon as it gins to be dark, if I can get from my Husband.  Peg. 
Oh Lord Madam! Now I think on't, we look for Sir Ralph Spatter to night, Mrs. Grace's Sweetheart, and my Master designs to make a Masquerade as they call it, on purpose to entertain him.  Mrs. Easy. 
That's true, some way must be contrived to cheat him of my Company. For Peg, now I have resolved upon't, I cannot forbear going, had my Husband been any thing approaching to Man, I should have believed I had longed, so great is my desire of seeing Lovechange to night. Oh, this dear Letter has so powerful an attraction, that I must go. Kisses the Letter.  Peg. 
Some way we'll find out. O dear Madam, here's my Master in Rancour, for I had forgot to tell you forsooth, that he has forbid Mr. Amorous the house, and that Mrs. Grace is full of dolour.  Enter Mr. Easie, snatches the Letter out of Mrs. Easy's hand. Mr. Easy. 
What's this I pray?  Mrs. Easy. 
I am undone! Nay I protest you must not see't for the World, it is a new Song.  Mr. Easy. 
Some bawdy Lampoon, I'll warrant ye, I'll see't.  Mrs. Easy. 
I'll protest it is not Sir, when 'tis set you shall hear it sung. Enter Grace weeping.  
She's come in very good time. Alas! poor Cousin Grace, and have you Sir, can you be so cruel to Cousin Grace, pray let her have the Man she loves.— Peg, hast never a Song to change this for? Aside.  Peg. 
Yes, Madam, but 'tis a very scurvy one.  Mr. Easy. 
I say I'll see the Paper.  Mrs. Easy. 
Any thing dear Peg, but the Letter, Aside come Dear will you consider Graece?  Mr. Easy. 
The Verses I say, I smell a Plot, 'tis some Love Letter, come, come, produce, produce.  Mrs. Easy. 
I vow Dear I am ashamed you should see 'em, they are so very silly.  Peg. 
I Sir, and something—  Mr. Easy. 
Bawdy too, I'll warrant ye, let's see, let's see.  Peg. 
Truly Sir, my Mistress has not read 'em yet.  Mr. Easy. 
What's here, Sig— Sig, Signior— hay day, what's the Devil got amongst you two: I shall Signior ye, and you want a Signior.  Mrs. Easy. 
What say you concerning Grace Sir?  Mr. Easy. 
I say you are all naught, and 'tis time you had all Men, lusty Men, able Men, for the Devil will supply their places else, and therefore I design to morrow, to marry Grace to a young lusty Lad, and a Knight, de ye see a Knight.  Grace. 
How Sir, marry me, and not to Mr. Amorous?  Mr. Easy. 
Amorous! Let me but see thee peep through the Window upon Amorous again, and I'll make a Nun of thee, dost hear, where thou shalt languish with the thought of flesh, and every day shall be a Good-Friday to thee.  Grace. 
You will not be so inhuman, will you Sir? you have the liberty to choose Youth and Beauty here in my Aunt, and despised Riches as the most unvaluable thing; and can you believe I am so unlike you to choose Wealth and an empty Title before so much Worth as dwells in Mr. Amorous.  Mr. Easy. 
If I have played the Fool, I do not mean you shall do so too. I have a Wife indeed of Youth and Beauty, but had I known the continual Plague of keeping her honest, she should e'en have been left to her old Gallant Lovechange, perhaps his Youth without my Money, had made her take the same courses, that my Money, and no Youth does, but I have rid my hands of him, thanks be praised.  Mrs. Easy. 
This is unkind Mr. Easy to upbraid me with so innocent a kindness as I had for Mr. Lovechange.  Mr. Easy. 
Nay, now I dare swear for thee, but yet I cannot help fearing, for Sweetheart he is very much spruced up of late, that is, since you were married, goes Rich, and spends high; notable signs, that some old Fool, or other may have a handsome liberal Wife, but thou art truly honest. Well, we do every moment expect Sir Ralph Spatter, pray let there be music got, and let the young Folks dance, invite Mrs. Lay-it-on, and Mrs. Frisker, and who else you please, and their Husbands, and entertain his Worship after the London fashion, I'll have it handsome.  Grace. 
Madam, i'm undone if your goodness don't assist me.  Mrs. Easy. 
Fear not, I'll warrant we'll take some care, I know too well the torment of forced Marriages to wish thee that punishment, but Cousin, pray do you see all things got in order to night, for I have a visit, or two, to make of concern.  Grace. 
Madam, you shall command me. Exit Mrs. Easie.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Sir, here's a Gentleman inquires for you.  Mr. Easy. 
Bodikins, 'tis Sir Ralph, bring him in.  Ser. 
I believe it is Sir. Exit Servant.  Enter Sir Ralph and Boy. Sir Ralph. 
Sirrah, go you and look out Mr. Lovechange, and let him know I am come to Town, and shall have need of that small sum of money he owes me. Exit Boy.  Mr. Easy. 
Sir Ralph, I am yours, and hearty glad to see you.  Sir Lalph. 
Sir, I am as much yours, and as glad to see you, and so I am to see you forsooth. To Mrs. Grace.  Grace. 
'Tis more than I am to see you, I'll promise ye.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh cry ye mercy, than you are not the Lady I took you for, I thought you had been Mrs. Grace my Mistress?  Mr. Easy. 
That's her name Sir, and her quality.  Sir Ralph. 
Truly Uncle, that must be, if she have no better, you are much too blame for giving her no better education, I thought she would have received me with open arms, for though I say it, I deserve it, and understand breeding.  Grace. 
I doubt it Sir.  Sir Ralph. 
You can't oblige me more, then to question my ability, for than you give me occasion to show my parts, and first as touching the Art of Courtship, though I don't read Romances, Plays, Histories, Pastorals, or Farces, yet can accost a Lady after this sort— Madam, (with my Face screwed up thus) I am your proud Servitor, or in English proud to serve you, my hands beneath your feet, is too mean a sacrifice; go where you will, I am your shadow, advance but the standard of your eyes, and i'm your Captive, your Creature, your very Frogg, begot, by your gentle influence. P'shaw I am furnished with a thousand things of the like nature.  Mr. Easy. 
Rare, rare, I vow, ah Sir Ralph, were I a young Wench for your sake, I could hug you, and love you all over.  Grace. 
Pray do so for me Sir, for I find no one part of him to move me to't.  Betty. 
Madam, if I were you, I would dissemble with him a little.  Grace. 
I had as good do so indeed Betty.  Mr. Easy. 
A little time, will make her pliable.  Sir Ralph. 
P'shaw, I don't question that must, what do you think Mrs. Grace?  Grace. 
Sir, I hope time will convince me of my error, and let me see, that you have perfections, which are yet disguised.  Sir Ralph. 
I thank you Mrs. Grace, for your good opinion of me I vow, and shall I hope do well against to morrow.  Grace. 
'Twere unkind Sir, to forbid your hope.  Sir Ralph. 
Well then, I'll set my seal upon you, in sign and token that you are my own. kisses her.  Mr. Easy. 
Go, now Grace, you may withdraw, get things in a readiness against night.  Grace. 
I obey you Sir. Exit Grace.  Sir Ralph. 
Sir, I must crave your excuse for a few moments, I am going to call in a little Money, an ill office to play the Dun, but you know Sir, we Lovers that have peevish Mistresses to deal with, require more than bare Courtship, well adieu Sir.  Exit Sir Ralph one way, Mr. Easie the other. Enter Lovechange solus. Lov. 
This is my constant walk three times a day, pray Heaven the Neighbourhood don't take me for some walking spirit, that upon certain hours, comes to give some intelligence of hid treasure. Enter Peg.  
But here's Peg, now dear Soul, what answer dost bring me? Shall I see my Mistress? Shall I be happy this night?  Peg. 
I know not how happy 'twill make you, but she will be this night in the Mall, at the upper end.  Lov. 
Dear Maid, I'll owe thee the Indies for this.  Peg. 
I Sir, if you did but know, what shift my Mistress makes, you would think yourself obliged and indebted too I can assure you.  Lov. 
No more, here's an earnest of what I own thee, prithee give her my service, my Love, my Heart, and Soul, honest Peg.  Enter Sir Ralph. Peg. 
Oh lass, what shall I do, here comes Sir Ralph Spatter, Mrs. Grace's Sweetheart; who by no means must see me.  Lov. 
Why I hope he's no Rival.  Peg. 
No Sir, but he may hereafter know me, for he's a Suitor to Mrs. Grace.  Lov. 
Leave me then, for I have a message from him, and will take this opportunity to speak to him. Exit Peg.  Sir Ralph. 
Mr. Lovechange your Servant, I sent to you just now, and am glad to meet you, you know my business Sir.  Lov. 
Yes Sir, I know you pretend I own you a thousand pounds but I am not provided with such a sum at present.  Sir Ralph. 
Sir, I should not have given you this trouble now, and at so short warning, but that I am upon my marriage, and there are a thousand Perquisits, and Trangams required, in order to the gaining my Mistress.  Lov. 
Save your money Sir Ralph, save your money, for this is no time to present idle Women, they are vain enough of themselves, do not raise them.  Sir Ralph. 
I, but Sir, we that are Lovers, must do these idle foolish things, or lose those more foolish idle things called Women.  Lov. 
If all Lovers, are to walk by one Rule, than Sir I am in the same predicament with you.  Sir Ralph. 
Why, are you going to marry too?  Lov. 
Faith, no Sir, I thank my Stars, but I am as much in Love, as those that are.  Sir Ralph. 
Well Sir, I am a little in haste now, pray think of the Debt, your Servant Sir. Exit Sir Ralph.  Lov. 
Pox of that foolish noddle of his, to believe I'll ever pay that Debt, which I was trappaned into, by the old Rogue his Father's cunning? as long as I have a Woman in my eye, no, no, my designs can't be carried on with empty Pockets.  Enter a Porter with a Letter. Porter. 
I think Sir, your name is Mr. Lovechange.  Lov. 
The same— From whom, this?  Porter. 
The Contents will inform you.  Lov. Reads. 
Dear Lovechange for some reasons that I must tell you, I have thought fit to alter my design of meeting you in the Mall, but will wait your coming at the side of the Duck-pond under those Trees, on the Bank.  
I like the Resolution well, tell the Person from whom you come, I will not fail to be at the place appointed. Exeunt severally.   
The End of the First Act.   

Actus Secundus,  

Scena Prima.  Enter Mrs. Woodbee, and Clare. Wood 
YOu are sure the Porter gave it into his own hand?  Clare. 
Yes Madam, and he said he would not fail to meet you.  Wood 
Well Lovechange, I will be revenged, and innocently so, perfidious man, whom I married without Fortune, or Friends, believing that way to oblige thee, but thou ungrateful as thou art, makest no returns, but false ones, but at least I will possess thee once more in revenge to both, and then scorn, and abandon thee to thy former arts of living.  Clare. 
Well, I can't but think Madam, how mad Mrs. Easie will be, when she knows the trick put upon her.  Wood 
Let her fret, till she grow old, but Clare I am not content to deprive her of all she expects this night in Lovechange, but I would have it known, and at once kill the old Cuckold, and destroy her Pride.  Clare. 
Oh Madam, I have it just now alighted in my Brain: you know Madam, Mr. Courtwell makes love to you, and so he does to all Womankind by turns.  Wood 
Yes, 'tis a lose Gallant, but what of him?  Clare. 
Why Madam, the next time he comes to wait on you.—  Wood 
I have given him his answer, he'll trouble me no more— but suppose he should— for I begin to conceive a Project.  Clare. 
Pray Madam let me speak first, for fear it should be the very same I have, and I claim the privilege of a discoverer: Madam, this very Man Mr. Courtwell, will I send to meet Mrs. Easie instead of your Husband Mr. Lovechange.  Wood 
I like the thing, and 'tis the very same with mine, but how to effect it? I fear we shall not meet with Courtwell, I would not wish for a madder fellow, nor a more talkative.  Clare. 
Madam, walk off, for yonder's Mr. Courtwell, as pat as if the Devil had sent him for the purpose.  Wood 
I'll leave thee to thy wit, and him. Exit Woodbee.  Enter Courtwell walking, Clare walks by carelessly. Court. 
What's here a Prize, at this time of the day— Mrs. if a Man should beg leave of you to take a turn or so?  Clare. 
Two, or Three, if you please Sir—  Court. 
Kind, and gentle— embraces her.  Clare. 
And your Servant Clare Sir.  Court. 
Ah! sweet Mrs. Clare, faith I am turns up her Hood. glad to meet thee, and how, and how, what shall we take a Bottle? come Clare, thou shouldst be kind, and I'll be grateful, come, I can lead thee, the back way into the Bullhead Tavern, and we'll be merry for half an hour.  Clare. 
Tavern Sir, what to do?  Court. 
Only to drink thy Lady's health, Clare, no harm at all I protest Clare.  Clare. 
You would be making Love I warrant too?  Court. 
A little Love Clare, for exercise only, alas, we that are young and brisk cannot live without it.  Clare. 
Why Sir, I do yet understand, but little of that myself, but I know a Lady Sir—  Court. 
‛ Pho thou talk'st of future joys— but I am for a little of the present, come dear Clare, be kind, upon my honour I have had a passion for thee a long time, and will be as constant, nay I'll swear to have no other Miss, but thee, and will keep thee as fine as e'er a Miss about the Town Egad now.  Clare. 
What, and pretend to my Lady Sir?  Court. 
That's for a necessary thing, called a Wife, but thou Clare, shalt share with her.  Clare. 
For a whole week at least.  Court. 
By my troth, and a fair time too I take it.  Clare. 
Come Sir, you'd better drive the other bargain with me?  Court. 
What, for the Lady thou speakest of, if thou couldst bring it to pass suddenly, much might be said, but I hate delays.  Clare. 
This Evening Sir.  Court. 
Now I hear thee, her name and parts, I prithee.  Clare. 
You may know more in good time— but thus much now, she's exceeding Beautiful, Young, and Innocent.  Court. 
No too much of the last, I pray.  Clare. 
Sir, to speak the naked truth, she is—  Court. 
Lovely, as Woman in the same condition—  Clare. 
No, but I vow Sir, I lie not, she's exceeding handsome, well shaped, delicate fine, tall, virtuous, and—  Court. 
The Devil and all, whither wilt thou carry her, to the degree of an Angel?  Clare. 
Besides, she's Rich, and needs none of your presents, nor keeping Sir.  Court. 
Oh thou hast ravished me, I am all on Fire, for Heaven's sake, sweet Clare, let me have this Nymph to allay my Flames?  Clare. 
But Sir, I thought you had been in love with me?  Court. 
I, I, Clare, I am in love with thee too, but this Lady, Clare, ha'! where does she live Girl?  Clare. 
Look Sir, if I bring you together, I have done my part.  Court. 
I, I, that shall suffice, let me alone for the rest, and reward thee.  Clare. 
Well then Sir, about eight of the Clock this Evening, here in the Mall, you shall find her in the upper end all alone, she is so, and so dressed, of a good mean, and shape, not very tall. whispers  Court. 
All this I like, but is this pure kindness to me Clare, hast thou no design, no trick to put upom me? or like the Devil, dost thou only enrich me to damn my Soul hereafter.  Clare. 
Why, to tell you the plain truth Sir, I have an end in't, and that is a little Revenge only, for Sir this Lady is to meet Mr. Lovechange there.  Court. 
Lovechange! A very Tiger at a Woman, introth thou art kind to the Lady, and putst her into gentler hands by far, but Clare, what spite have you to Lovechange?  Clare. 
Now, what shall I say?— Why truly Sir— He— aside made a little love to me once, and the truth on't is, though I did not love him so well as to do—  Court. 
What, what Clare?  Clare. 
That Sir; nay you make me blush I vow, yet I had such a smackering for him, as will carry me to this innocent revenge.  Court. 
A plague on her, what does she call innocent, to rob a man of the enjoyment of the finest Woman in Town, (aside) well Clare, Heaven's blessing, and this— go along with thee. gives her Money. But not a word of this to your Lady.  Clare. 
Adieu Mr. Courtwell, I warrant you for secrecy.  Court. 
Now will I go, and dress me as like Lovechange as I can, for I suppose that will please her best, here's the Rogue himself.  Enter Lovechange. Lov. 
Oh, your Servant Mr. Courtwell, how thrives your Amour with the Widow, ha'! what is she kind, and coming?  Court. 
Time has worn out, even the very thoughts of all those things in her, I think, which— because I can't forbear telling her, does so incense her, as the truth is Ned, I believe it will not be a match:  Lov. 
Oh, will it not so? Well I hope, like the Sea, what you lose in one place, you gain in another.  Court. 
Faith no, that grand concern of the World, making love, is quite laid by with me, I find none that are kind, but at so unmerciful a rate—  Lov. 
Thou art a miserable man, that canst not get the knack on't, for William, there be Ladies, yes there be Ladies, that will, and can love, look ye. shows a Letter.  Court. 
Oh, you are a happy man Sir.  Lov. 
So mightst thou, didst thou but use my Arts:  Court. 
Prithee, what be they?  Lov. 
Swearing, Lying, and shamming in abundance.  Court. 
Poh, all this, I daily practice, but 'tis bootless.  Lov. 
Thou dost overdoed, or underdoed, there is a certain quantity goes to the charm, thou wilt find it out in time— there is a Lady Will— Egad, such a dear Soul— that has a passion for me.  Court. 
Oh, I doubt it not Sir.  Lov. 
And this night gins my Heaven, for I shall possess her Will, dost hear? possess her Lad.  Court. 
Then, I rather think 'twil end your Heaven, for you'll care but little for her after that.  Lov. 
Of, that I'll give you a better account to morrow, I writ a Letter to her to day to meet me here this Evening, and I am so impatient, that I can't forbear the place, till the hour come.  Court. 
And what, is this the Garb you have designed to entertain her in?  Lov. 
Even this.  Court. 
Well, I congratulate your good fortune Sir.  Enter Peg. Peg, 
I have been to inquire for you, and they told me, you were here in the Park.  Lov. 
I vow thou makest my heart ache, prithee let me hear thy message, quick, and put me out of my pain, I hope thy Mistress will come?  Peg. 
Yes Sir, and I only forgot to tell you how my Lady is dressed, and therefore came to let you know Sir, she'll be— whispers.  Lov. 
She need not fear, I shan't mistake her for any other, besides, she will be in so remote a part of the Park, that I suppose there will be hardly any but herself.  Peg. 
Lord Sir, what do you mean?  Lov. 
Mean? To meet thy Lady, and all the bliss I expect in this World.  Peg. 
But where Sir?  Lov. 
By the Duck-Pond side.  Peg. 
What do you mean Sir? Are you not to meet her in the Mall? here, in this very place, where you now are?  Lov. 
No, dear Soul, did not I receive a Letter just now from her to the contrary: That she desired to change the place for some reasons, best known to herself? here, read it thyself.  gives her the Letter. Peg. 
Duck-Pond side— for Reasons— ha', ha', ha'— This my Lady's hand?  Lov. 
Why dost laugh Reprobate?  Peg. 
I would I were married, if this be'nt an errant cheat, well, faith I laugh, but have more need to cry, to think how we poor Women are treated by you false men, now have you been boasting your good fortune to some kind hearted Lass, that's jealous of you.  Lov. 
The Devil take me Peg—  Peg. 
Hold Sir, don't swear, how could this come about else? Oh that ever my Lady should trust you.  Lov. 
By Heaven, thou wilt make me rave, I have not seen a Woman, nor will I see a Woman, whilst I have breath but thy Lady, Hell take me if I have named her, but to the Air in sighs, and sure this must be hers.  Peg. 
Believe me Sir, she would not trust this secret to any but myself.  Lov. 
'Twas a Porter brought it me as I was walking here, and now I do believe 'tis some trick, therefore pray inform her, that according to her first order, I'll meet her in the Mall, here at the furthest end.  Peg. 
I'll let her know you will Sir, your servant. Exit Peg.  Court. 
What's all this communication?  Lov. 
About a mistake, this is the servant to that Lady I must meet at night, in order to which I must take my leave. Exit Lovechange  Court. 
Your servant Ned, good luck attend thee, now if I can but get here before him, and lead the Lady off, I shall be a double conqueror. Exit. Courtwell.   

Scene Third.  Enter Mrs. Easie, Grace, and Betty. Grace. 
Now I have told you Madam, how much I love, you'll judge at my unhappiness.  
It may be, you have been a Lover too, and then I cannot doubt your pity Madam, I don't entertain you as an Aunt, our years are equal, and perhaps our hearts, but as a Sister, and a friend, I sue, and beg you would afford me your assistance.  Mrs. Easy. 
I was your friend before I was your Aunt, and wish I had remained in that blessed state, without advancing farther.  
Far from the joys of Youth, and Love, i'm gone, but thou art wise, hold where thou art dear Grace, and wed thyself to something like thyself, despise Sir Ralph, and take young Amorous.  Grace. 
Oh Madam, how you do revive my Soul, this goodness in you, shows you just, as fair; but Madam, whence shall I derive my hopes; my Uncle's too severe, he won't suffer me to take my liberty abroad, nor here, and how can I find time to speak with Amorous: who languishes with me by sympathy.  Mrs. Easy. 
This night your Uncle does design an entertainment: we'll be in Masquerade, Betty shall find out Amorous, and let him come also, masked, none will know him, and if it be possible, get away with him, I conceive the project easy.  Grace. 
Most probable too, oh dear Madam! how I am obliged to your advice, and permission.  Mrs. Easy. 
Now I have instructed you, I'll be no more seen in your company to night, farewel, think of nothing but Amorous; whilst I prepare for Lovechange: [aside] Exit Mrs. Easy  Grace. 
Come Betty, follow me to my Closet for a Letter, if Prayers can help us, the gods shall want no sacrifice. Exeunt  Scene Mrs. Woodbee's house. Enter Amorous, and Perigreen. Per. 
Sir, I am infinitely obliged to you for your goodness to me an unhappy stranger, and when you know how much I deserve your pity too, I don't doubt but you will give it me.  Amor. 
Nothing Sir that you can suffer, can deserve pity, unless you be a Lover.  Per. 
Sir, I am a Lover, and so distressed a one—  Amor. 
Dare you not oblige me with the knowledge on't?  Per. 
Twoved be too tedious, and too melancholy, and none but Lovers can a judgement make of what a Lover feels, therefore excuse me Sir.  Amor. 
To let you know, how great my sense can be I'll tell you I can love as well as any, nay, and compare my miseries with yours, I love a Lady Sir, whose youth, and beauty, make all Captives that but look upon her, 'tis such a Treasure, that had jason known, he would have let his golden Fleece alone, to have made a Rape on her, and like that too, 'tis guarded by so strange a monstrous Beast, an old decrepit Miser Uncle, that 'tis more difficult to charm his will, then fight a thousand Dragons, the Niece's full consent, and heart i've won, but am forbid to love by this old man.  Per. 
What reasons can he give for this severity?  Amor. 
He makes no objections against my Estate, or Person, for I am sole heir to my Aunt, and all the hope of being so to that Uncle too; which you know in Spain.  Per. 
Your Person Sir, is far from being disgustful, 'tis rather to be admired, and loved what can the reason be?  Amor. 
Why Sir, he has a Nephew, called Mr. Courtwell—  Per. 
Heavens! What of him? aside  Amor. 
Who is designed by this old testy man, to marry with my Aunt, she's rich, and as you see, not disagreeable.  Per. 
What will this come to? aside  Amor. 
But she for some reasons refuses him, yet he is worthy, young, and rich.  Per. 
Does she refuse him Sir? Oh false Dissembler. aside  Amor. 
You seem disturbed Sir.  Per. 
Yes Sir, to think that no merits, no parts, though even Divine, can take a heart inflexible, my Case was so, but does he love her much?  Amor. 
For her riches only, her wealth, he courts, not her, could he but gain her, I should then be happy, for his Uncle declares, I shall be welcome to his Niece, when Courtwell is received well by my Aunt, of if he would cease his Courtship, and make it elsewhere, in time, the old man might be reduced.  Per. 
I know this Courtwell, and will try my Arts to make him alter his, as well as his Uncle's will, believe me Sir, I once had power o'er him, and I will try and use it now for both your services.  Amor. 
I don't distrust your virtue, nor your will, pray see, what you can do, and let me be honoured, with the Title of your friend.  Per. 
Sir, I am proud of the glory, and am your faithful Servant.  Exit Perigreen. Enter Betty. Bet. 
Sir, I have a message to you, besides this. gives him a Letter  Amor. 
Welcome dear messenger of Love, oh how you bless my Soul.  Betty. 
You speak as if you were sure it brought love, and good News.  Amor. 
Nothing from this hand can be ungrateful! Reads 'Tis enough, yes I will come, though Hell opposed my passage Betty, thou knowst the contents of this, and must assist my just design.  Betty. 
Has my Mistress sent you word what habit she'll be in?  Amo. 
She has, but without that help, my heart would find her out, pray tell her how impatiently I long for the wished for moment.  Betty. 
Sir, that you may employ yourself to advantage till then, you were best to provide the means to carry her away handsomely, and think of a place, where.  Amor. 
Oh Betty, trouble not yourself for that, if fortune be so kind to me, to put her into my hands, I'll warrant her safety there, I'll defy Fate, to ravish her thence, keep but thy Mistress in this happy humour, and I don't fear success.  Betty. 
Well Sir, it grows dark, and I shall be wanted, I'll say all the kind things I can, and which I am sure you think, to Mrs. Grace, and so farewell Sir—  Amor. 
Oh Betty, thou canst not think what I would say, nor I can't utter it, but let Grace imagine, she loves, and knows my Soul to be entirely hers, I will not fail a moment, and so disguised, as none but she shall know me. Exeunt severally  Scene the Mall. Enter Mrs. Easie, and Peg. Mrs. Easy. 
I wonder Peg, who this should be, that has put this trick upon us, and sent the note to Lovechange?  Peg. 
Some of his Ladies from Wildstreet Alley, or some other such part of the Town.  Mrs. Easy. 
I cannot believe he would reveal it to any, I have had many proofs of his prudence, and love, though no use of his secrecy, till this hour, pray Heaven I don't repent it.  Peg. 
P'shaw, what at your repentance already, good Madam, don't think of it, but go boldly on.  Mrs. Easy. 
Well, I'll be at the upper end of this Walk, but I am so impatient, that I would have you go through the Guard, and see for him.  Peg. 
You need not doubt his speed, but however I'll go. Exit Peg.  Enter Courtwell in a Cloak. Mrs. Easy. 
Lovechange, Lovechange!  Court. 
This must be the Lady— [aside] Madam is it you?  Mrs. Easy. 
I have sent Peg just now through the Guards to look for you; which way came you?  Court. 
By a Key the other way, now what shall I entertain her with for a beginning?  
A pox on't, I shall spoil all I fear, if I talk much, and I cannot come right down to the matter. aside  Mrs. Easie. 
You are thoughtful, Mr. Lovechange, what is it some device to excuse the mistake of the Letter? Oh Lovechange! I could not believe, you would have treated my first kindness to you, in this ungrateful sort.  Court. 
What shall I answer now? some kind Devil assist me! [aside] Oh Madam, he that can be false to you, is a Reprobate to Heaven, and durst not aspire to the bounties of your love— but Madam— I am out again (aside) will you believe my Vows and Oaths?— By your divine self, by all that's—  Mrs. Easy. 
Hold, I must, I will believe you.  
Ah Lovechange, you little think with what fear I come to yield you up my Honour, after believing you false— But come you must dispose of me, I can't resist.  Court. 
Nay, if you be thereabouts already, I am happy enough: [aside] Madam don't destroy our pleasures with fears of any thing, for by all that's good I am entirely yours, come, whither shall I lead you, I am impatient. Enter Peg.  Peg. 
Madam, Madam.  Mrs. Easy. 
Stay, here's my Woman has something to say to me.  goes to Peg. Peg. 
Mr. Lovechange is coming Madam.  Mrs. Easy. 
Coming! whether is he coming trow?  Peg. 
To you Madam, as fast as he can.  Mrs. Easy. 
Fool, he's here already.  Peg. 
Already! where?  Mrs. Easy. 
Why, there thou Dunce.  Peg. 
He mounted a Cloud then, for I'm sure I saw him paying his Coach, and spoke to him, told him where you were, and run before, to give you notice.  Mrs. Easy. 
Thou art stark mad, I have entertained him this half hour, here.  Peg. 
Lord Madam, 'tis the greatest mistake in the World, I vow this is some forlorn, or other, that making a discovery of the Enemy unguarded, fell on, believe me Madam, 'tis none of Mr. Lovechange.  Mrs. Easy. 
Who the Devil should it be then? Well 'tis a mercy I had not discovered all to him.  Peg. 
If you have been together this half hour, I fear you have discovered too much— 'Slife— I have it, I fancy this must be some body concerned in the Intrigue of the Letter sent to Mr. Lovechange.  Mrs. Easy. 
Faith it may be so, I'll try, and fit him for't.  Court. 
Madam, you forget, that I am impatient of delay, what's all this whispering for?  Mrs. Easy. 
My Woman informs me, that some of my Relations are in the Mall, and 'tis possible may know me, therefore dear Lovechange, retire to some remote place of the Park.  Court. 
Madam, I obey you, with joy.  Mrs. Easy. 
The Duck-Pond side, I think most convenient; But for our better security, go you about that way, I'll go this, and meet you.  Court. 
I take your word, and will be there before you.  Mrs. Easy. 
I believe you will, if at all? Exit Courtwell.  
Oh the villainy of Man!  Peg. 
Oh th' Wit of Woman! Madam, I adore your contrivance.  Enter Lovechange. Mrs. Easy. 
My Lovechange!  Lov. 
My dearest Mistress!  Mrs. Easy. 
Oh I know that voice 'tis music to my Soul, aside that I should be so dull, not to distinguish the false one, from the true! Well dear Lovechange, let's withdraw to some other part of the Park less open, for I have many eyes to watch me.  Lov. 
This overcharge of joy arrives too hastily, I should have time to let it enter by degrees.  Mrs. Easy. 
No ceremonious Foppery dear Lovechange! our joys require some haste, but something Peg, I have to say to thee first, here take this Key, and dress yourself in my Masking habit, and represent me this Evening, I'll trust thy management of the business, and thy Wit to deceive the old Man.  Peg. 
Let me alone Madam, to act you to the life, till Bed time at least.  Mrs. Easy. 
Nay, I think thou may'st venture thy Maidenhead without danger, there too.  Peg. 
I think, for any great massacre he has made of yours, I may; well I'll run, for fear of the worst. Exit Peg.  Lov. 
Come my fair Mistress, whilst thus I bear you off, to reap the joys of Love, I find more happiness, more real argument for glorious pride, then if Triumphant Laurel decked my Brow, to speak me Conqueror of Monarchys? Exeunt.  Scene supposed the Duck-pond side. Enter Mrs. Woodbee from one side, and Courtwell from the other, meeting. Court. 
Well Madam, I find you are a Woman of Honour, and have kept your word, and then I need not doubt of all the happiness I wish beside.  Wood 
Oh how my heart rises at this false Man, but I must dissemble it. aside  
I vow Mr. Lovechange, 'tis well you can't see me blush, for I confess I am not used to these encounters.  Court. 
Come, come, fair one, no sense of shame I beseech you, for that will call the blood up to thy face, which should be active in another part, oh that dear thought, faith and troth makes me impatient: Come, come where shall we be, where, where, what think you of yonder Bench?  Wood 
Oh intolerable! he never was thus kind to me before! nor would he now, if he knew all. aside  Court. 
Come, come, no study upon the matter.  Wood 
Fie, fie, Mr. Lovechange, no approaches to the business; methinks there should be some short Prologue of Courtship, before the Scene of Love begin.  Court. 
Our youth, and vigour, needs none of all that, we are ready at all times.  Wood 
I would you were— Aside  
Sir, you have prevailed, and overcome, but methinks this Bench is a very undecent place.  Court. 
Oh Madam I There has been many a worse shift made, the night, and these kind shades, secure our joys.  Wood 
But not your perfidiousness. aside  
I'll swear Sir, you are so importune. Exeunt hand in hand  Scene Mr. Easy's house. Enter Mr. Easie, and Sir Ralph. Mr. Easy. 
Come, come, Grace, Wife, Betty, Peg, where be all these Girls, there is such tricking, such licking, patching, and sinifying, that 'tis a shame to see't, and tedious to attend it, but to entertain you, we'll have a Song.  Sir Ralph. 
With all my heart Uncle.  

A Song.  

Poor honest Fool, I wonder what I meant?  
When in the Marriage Circle, first I went.  
What magic's in that Name?  
What powerful conjuration, can there be,  
Or where's that too, too happy she,  
That can allay Love— when 'tis Legion.   

Yet for a quiet Life I've often died,  
But oft my Wife has Murdered me beside:  
So slyly too, she did the deed,  
That at my Murderer's sight, I could not bleed:  
Though a Phillis new inspires,  
At once Life, and whole troops of fresh desires.   

And yet should I be constant still— I will,  
Yes like a Rock and like that too, I'll take  
Each Wave that near me breaks:  
And ravished gently, for her cruel sake:  
There I'll drink, and quaff, and riot:  
They're sickly Souls that keep more constant diet.    
Very well, I vow, and swear now.  Enter Peg as Mrs. Easie, in Mask. Betty disguised like Grace, other Men and Women Masked, old Easy to Peg. Mr. Easy. 
My dear Wife, now I like thee, is't not as good to be merry at home, as abroad?  Peg. 
Sir, I am all obedience, and like any place where you are.  Mr. Easy. 
Why, that's well said, come, inform the Music, and I'll make one, and you Sir Ralph take Grace here, come Grace, be a good Girl, and love Sir Ralph. Gives him Betty.  Dance all. Sir Ralph. 
Most judiciously tripped, I vow and swear now, ha'! little Mrs. Grace, come since you can wag your heels so prettily in a Dance, you'll wag something else in place where, I'll warrant ye, ha' Rogue, thy handsome Leg, and Foot, has made me wish— you little think, what, I vow now.  Betty. 
Nor care to know Sir.  Sir Ralph. 
You lie like a pretty little Baggage faith now, you do know, and you shall know before anon, what say you Uncle?  Mr. Easy. 
I say, as you do Sir Ralph.  Sir Ralph. 
I Sir, and in order to't, pray send for a Cushion Cuffer, that there may be no more shall I, shall I, in the Case, for all flesh is frail, and Women fickle. What say you Mrs. Grace.  Betty. 
I am all obedience.  Mr. Easy. 
Come Ladies, and Gentlemen, I have a treat waits you within. Enter Amorous disguised,  Amor. 
That must be she by her habit, and shape, Madam do you know me?  Betty. 
Do you know me?  Amor. 
My heart tells me I do, and yours might answer you.  Betty. 
Mr. Amorous,— Oh Sir my Mistress—  Mr. Easy. 
How's this!  Sir Ralph. 
What's this a Rival, oh Uncle a Rival, a Rival.  Mr. Easy. 
Cock's bodikins 'tis this impudent young Hector Amorous.  Sir Ralph. 
How, Amorous? what's he? pray Uncle.  Mr. Easy. 
One, that would rob you of your Mistress. Sir Ralph, go and take her from him.  Sir Ralph. 
I thank you for that, I make one of the worst bulleys in nature, I vow, pray Uncle do you handle him for me, he has a terrible grim look of his own.  Mr. Easy. 
Sir, pray who are you?  Amor. 
A troubled Spirit Sir, that still repairs to it's bright Treasure.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh are you so Sir? We shall conjure you, Uncle, Uncle.  Mr. Easy. 
First Mistress, come you o''is side— take her away Sir Ralph.  Betty. 
'Tis not Amorous Sir.  Mr. Easy. 
I will not trust you, nor believe you, but who e'er he be, we'll leave him to himself. Your Servant good Familiar.  Sir Ralph. 
I, Sir your Servant, you see the Treasure's owned, and you may please to walk, far you well, far you well.  Exeunt all but Amorous. Enter to Amorous, Grace from behind the Hang, Easy returns to the door. Grace. 
Amorous, my faithful Friend!  Mr. Easy. 
What this? aside  Amor. 
My dearest Grace, 'twas kindly done to undeceive me quickly, why didst not tell me of thy plot?  Grace. 
Because I would surprise ye unawares, but dear Amorous, I have a plot for thee wholly necessary to our happiness, you must play the Parson, and marry this Fool to Betty, that we may have time for our escape, I have hid a habit within a purpose, haste dear Amorous, for our affairs require haste.  Mr. Easy. 
Oh rare Rogues, have I caught ye. aside.  Amor. 
Dear Grace, how I am obliged to thee for this contrivance, doubt not my management.  Grace. 
I'll wait behind these hang for you. Exeunt.   
The End of the Second Act.   

Actus Tertius,  

Scena Prima.  Enter Sir Ralph, and Betty. Sir Ralph. 
NOw I defy my Rivals, if Amorous court thee now, I'll have an Action against him, I hate these fight Fops faith, that upon every occasion are at Sa— sa— A pox of their Valour; sirrah, court my mistress if you dare, says one, for if thou dost, this shall proclaim my right, then to't they go, and there's a Lover lost, perhaps the others hanged, the Drunken Fop cries damn ye, you dog, drink up your Glass, or you are not fit for civil Society; which if refused, to Tilting they go, and this they call an honourable quarrel. 'Tis likely three half pence well managed at an Apothecaryes', cures all the wounds they have, and they set up for men of Courage, brisk Bulleys of the Sword: These Grace, be the finest Blades of the Age, that court ye, and gain too, all the idle Women of the Town; and when a Country, downright, honest, peaceable Knight, as I am, makes Love; we are laughed at called Sir Martin, Sir Nicholas, and forty other ridiculous names; that the newest Comedies furnish ye withal; But Grace, I have money Grace, and a pox of formal Fops.  Betty. 
Sir, you entertain me with things that concern me not.  Sir Ralph. 
Yes Grace, I would have thee be wise now, thou art my Wife.  Enter Easie, leading Grace from behind the Hang. Easy. 
Be these your tricks Mistress, what you were hid to wait your Lover Amorous, were you? come along, or I will disgrace thee publicly.  Sir Ralph. 
What's this, what's this, my Uncle, and Mrs. Grace, why who the Devil have I married here then?  Betty. 
Your Friend, and Servant Betty, Sir.  Sir Ralph. 
How! why you have not cheated me thus, out of my sweet self have you? oh I'm undone, undone! cries.  Easy. 
How! Sir Ralph, married to Betty? Oh me, that I had but so much moisture in my whole body as would keep you company Sir Ralph, but since I have not, this baggage shall cry for me— go— get you in, and know your Commander. Beats Grace in  Grace. 
Oh Betty I'm lost. Exeunt Easie, Grace, and Sir Ralph.  Enter Amorous. Amor. 
So, now I have resigned my holy Habit, and am become a lay Lover again.  Betty. 
O Sir, my poor Mistress was discovered behind the Hang, and her Uncle has treated her very ill for your sake.  Amor. 
Discovered! oh Betty thou killest me! so near my wished for Port, and sunk i'th' very harbour. Malicious Stars!—  Betty. 
Well Sir, I don't doubt but for all this, to bring it about again, in the mean time, 'twere good you should retire, I will give you notice of all that passes.  Amor. 
I thank thee Betty, but I fear my Fate,  
How near was I, to being Fortunate. Exeunt severally.  Scene a Bedchamber, a Table out, and a Chair. Enter Mr. Easie, and Peg. Easy. 
O Woman! monstrous Woman! Argus' eyes quotha'! ye an hundred were not able to watch one Woman, a curse upon the whole Sex, and foolish Man for being so fond of 'em. Oh I am sick, very sick with fretting, ten years are taken from my time with this night's work, but I have her fast, and will as soon as day appears conjure her into better manners, oh my heart! But all my consolationis in thee my dear Wife. undresses himself.  Peg. 
What the Devil shall I say, or do? I dare not turn my Face toward the light, lest he should know me, and if I speak, I fear that will betray me, if I refuse to go to Bed, I discover all my Mistress' secrets, and then we are undone, if I go to Bed— Why then— Heaven knows what— Aside  Easy. 
I am happy in this yet, that I in thee my Honey, have a loving Virtuous Wife, one that's above all the little Lightnesses of her Sex, yes, her villainous Sex, Come, come to Bed my Love.  Peg. 
Sir, since 'tis so near day, and you so hasty to take Revenge upon Grace, we had e'en as good save the labour of undressing.  Easy. 
By no means, to Bed I say, that I may take a little repose, after this harasssing of my Spirits, but still I am thrice happy in thee.  Peg. 
Ay, would you knew all— no hopes yet— No Mistress come, what shall I do? she is so taken up with her more soft affairs, that she minds not how rashly I am like to be used with this old Master of mine. aside  Easy. 
Thou hast but one only fault, and that is, not loving thy Bed, prithee reform that lewd and scandalous way of life, of sitting up late.  Peg. 
Lord, that he should blame any Woman, that refuses to go into a pair of Sheets with him. aside  Easy. 
Undress I say, or I shall be most villainous angry again.  Peg. 
It must out, and it will out, but I am to be excused, for I have played my part, and counterfeited, till I am come to almost past counterfeiting. To Bed quotha', 'Slife I had as live lie in a Charnel house, I don't blame my Mistress for loving another, but hark, I hear a rustling [noise below] 'tis certainly she, oh that I were now transformed. aside  Easy. 
Why the Devil, come you not to Bed?  Peg. 
I am hasting as fast as I can Sir. undresses herself.  
Please you to go in before, I won't stay a moment after you.  Easy. 
Oh the intolerable Pride, and Plague of Womankind! I tell ye I will not budge a foot without ye, therefore come away, I will break thee of this humour at last. pulls her in.  Peg. 
Oh undone! quite undone!  Enter as below Mrs. Easie, and Lovechange. Mrs. Easy. 
All is hushed, and still, I hope all's well, oh my dearest Lovechange, if you did but know with what regret I leave you, your pity, would certainly augment your love. 'Tis almost day, and yet methinks 'tis but a little moment we have been together: Oh how short the hours of love and pleasure seem.  Lov. 
I think so too my Dear, would it had pleased the gods to have bound us thus eternally together.  Mrs. Easy. 
Can you dear Lovechange, speak this Language still? after enjoyment, men grow dull, and cold.  Lov. 
Number not me, amongst the common rout of those, whose beastly Appetite begets a short lived passion, mine like the object that first caused it, is pure, unchangeable, without deceit.  Mrs. Easy. 
I must believe you, and must love you too, but we must part, oh that ungrateful word!  Lov. 
But we must meet again, that only hope atones for the unkindness of the other, pray don't suffer many hours to pass, before you let me see you, I shall die with one whole day of absence.  Mrs. Easy. 
You please me, when you do but wish to see me, and to return that goodness, for 'tis such [sighs] I'll study how to love, and how to please, and how to keep you ever in this state— This blessed Estate of loving. But this is an Argument we must discourse at large of, now Sir adieu, for the first time I think we have done well.  Lov. 
I cannot leave the house, till I know how you speed with your too passionate Husband.  Mrs. Easy. 
I'll creep softly up, if he be asleep, I'm safe, for nothing but the noise of money can wake him, attend you below.  Exeunt severally. A Bedchamber discovered, with Peg and Mr. Easy in't. Peg. 
Discovered! and undone!  Easy. 
Betrayed! ruined betrayed! oh thou wicked, thou treacherous Wretch, where's my Wife, my lewd, wicked Wife?  Peg. 
Are you mad?  Easy. 
Yes, I am, and will show it, thou Eternal Baggage.  Peg. 
So now let him strike, They fight, Peg puts out the Candle. Exit Peg. if he can aim well.  Easy. 
This shan't serve your turn, I will cudgel thee, till I have not left a bit of skin on thy bones, I don't expect thou shouldst tell me whereabouts thou art, no Huswife, I'll feel you out he gropes to find her. I will, and so feel thee, that thou shalt feel me too.  Enter Peg softly, and Mrs. Easie, in the same nightgown that Peg had on. Peg. 
So, now go you in, and receive a blow or two, and be sure you cry out lustily, and I'll come to your assistance with a Candle.  To Mrs. Easie aside. Exit Peg Mrs. Easie. 
Good dear Husband be'nt so passionate, what have I done to cause this?  Mr. Easy. 
Thou impudent Harlot, dost call me Husband? tell me truly, confess, confess, what Rogue, has got thy Mistress out, where is she a Caterwauling? confess, or I will dissect thee, for thou art her Pimp— beats her.  Mrs. Easy. 
Your grief has made you lunatic, I am your Wife, hold, hold your profane hands.  Mr. Easy. 
No, I will mark thee with a Vengeance, I'll spoil your Pimping.  Mrs. Easy. 
Murder, murder, since you are so inhuman, I will have no mercy on your Reputation, murder!  Enter Peg with a Light. Peg. 
Bless me! what do I see, my dear Mistress?  Mr. Easy. 
Ha', ha', her dear Mistress? 'tis so, 'tis so, I, I, thou art Peg, and this is my own sweet Wife. looks on 'em both.  Mrs. Easy. 
Sir, pray let me know why you use me thus? Is it not enough that you have married me to an old stinking Carcase, a useless thing, but you must beat me? I will no more endure you, no not the sight of thee.  Mr. Easy. 
Sweet Wife, most merciful Wife, bear with the frailties of my age.  Mrs. Easy. 
I have born with 'em too long.  Mr. Easy. 
Ay, there's it, It's that sticks by thee, but dear Wife I protest, I took thee all this while for Peg.  Mrs. Easy. 
How came you to mistake?  Mr. Easy. 
Why, when I was in bed, as you made me go before, you know, I fancied that the Papers which you were looking on at the Table—  Peg. 
Which was no other than a Prayer-Book to prolong time only. To Mrs. Easie aside  Mr. Easie: 
And thinking it might have been a Love-Letter (for I am naturally jealous) stole out of Bed, and looking thee full in the face, I thought thou hadst been Peg, very Peg; as I am a lover of thy virtue, I know not how I came to be mistaken, but so 'twas, and I dare swear—  Peg. 
What Sir, that 'twas I? Lord how merry you are Sir.  Mrs. Easy. 
And must I suffer, because you are old and blind?  Mr. Easy. 
Truth is, 'tis very unreasonable, pardon me my fair, my Angelical Wife, I will never trust my eyes again in this case.  Peg, 
Pray forsooth bear with his Weakness, and the Infirmity of Age.  Mr. Easy. 
Ah how she aggravates my crime, old, and age were no harm, but that she's brisk and youthful, patience, good Lady, patience.  Mrs. Easy. 
I'm resolved I'll pardon ye this once, in pity to your years.  Mr. Easy. 
Ay, there 'tis again.  Mrs. Easy. 
But if ever I find you faulty again, I'll be divorced.  Mr. Easy. 
Thou hast reason, for on my Consccience thou art as good a Virgin, as when I had thee.  Peg. 
I'll deny that, or she has passed her night but ill. Aside.  Mrs. Easy. 
I will not bed with you to night, for besides that I am exceedingly offended with you, you have mortified all inclinations of a Bedfellow in me, and so far you well Sir.  Mr. Easy. 
Patience I say— though I have no great matter to do a bed with her, yet I dare not trust her out of my sight,— but I must let her have her will this once, [aside] have you forgiven me?  Mrs. Easy. 
I shall do by the morning perhaps. Exit Mr. Easie. So, go thy ways, and dream, if thou hast any subject for it in thy Brain, whilst I'll to Lovechange, and in his arms, complete the rest of this so well begun night.  Peg. 
I too, deserve something for acting ' so judiciously in this affair.  Mrs. Easy. 
Thou, dear Peg, art Loves Matchivil, and deserv'st a Statue reared to thy memory for all honest discreet Maids to worship.  Peg. 
Haste Madam, for Mr. Lovechange stays to take a parting kiss I'm glad we are come off so nobly, and that you have a little time, good for a little more delight, when you are pleased, we must contrive some way to free poor Mrs. Grace, who suffers for Love's sake too.  Mrs. Easy. 
Let me alone for that. Exeunt ambae.  Scene Mrs. Woodbee's house. Enter Clare. Clare. 
I wonder in my heart, where this Mistress of mine is, she'll e'en stay till 'tis light, and discover herself, pray Heavens she come before the house is up.  Enter Mrs. Woodbee▪ 
Oh Madam I'm glad you are come before my Master, well how thrived you Madam?  Wood 
Just as I wished Girl, and as we contrived it, he met me at the Duck-Pond side, where we stayed most part of the night. Oh had the Joys which I received been meant to me!  Clare. 
Madam you see, what imagination can do, and did he do as he ought to do Madam?  Wood 
O Clare! he said and did so many kind things to me!  Clare. 
So many say you Madam? Nay then we shall have him come home as tame, and pensive, as a Gamester, outdone in his own Trade of Nicking, now it may be I may go quietly about my business, all this day at least.  Wood 
And I may lie quietly too, unless I can cheat him again, well I was never so pleased, and displeased in my Life before, some way I will find to be revenged.  Clare. 
Some such Comical way.  Wood 
No my hopes are gone for ever having of him this way in my power, oh this treacherous man that I have so obliged.  Clare. 
And he has this night made some returns.  Wood 
Stay, when I think how great a satisfaction 'twas to him to believe himself in the Arms of Mrs. Easie I can't think of a better revenge, then to let him know it was not she.  Clare. 
Why, will you tell him Madam?  Wood 
Yes, and at once destroy his vain glory, and let him know how sensible I am of the affront, if he has any sense of shame, or honour, this may reclaim him.  Enter Lovechange singing, taking no notice of his Wife. 
He's coming; how now Mr. Lovechange, what no good morrow after a whole night's absence.  Lov. 
What the Devil do you up so early? you become your bed far better.  Wood 
I can't rest Mr. Lovechange, when you are not there.  Lov. 
You must use yourself to such things, Husband and Wife, were not made to lie Eternally together.  Wood 
Why, Mr. Lovechange, what other use can you put yourself to a nights?  Lov. 
I thank ye for that I'faith— What— then to lie with my own Wife? as I take it, there were no Articles between you, and I, to leave off any part of my former Trade, as Drinking, Gaming—  Wood 
And Whoring.  Lov. 
Nay, my Dear, as for that— believe me, I have left it quite off. A man that has a Wife so experienced as thou art, so kind, so willing a Wife, faith I think he were worse than a Tiger to abuse thee, thou hast all my stock, believe me dear Soul.  Wood 
Which is a very small one.  Lov. 
Faith a Man, that drinks, and Games, can't be very brisk that way.  Wood 
Drinking was ever counted an Enemy to our Sex, but pray Sir how does gaming abuse it?  Lov. 
Why faith, if a Man has ill luck, as likely I have— What with Fretting, Swearing, Damning, and throwing, my Spirits disperse, which should retire to the place you wots on.  Wood 
You think any excuse may serve for a Wife, all this, may make you unkind at home, but do the Ladies abroad find your fretting, Damning, Swearing, and throwing, disperse Nature in you?  Lov. 
Ah! I see where the Worm bites, thou art politicly jealous of me.  Wood 
Oh fie! Jealous? (that were a fault indeed) of one so kind, so just, and true a Husband as you are Mr. Lovechange.  Lov. 
Thou hast said all in a word, Egad I would not change thee for the finest Miss in Town.  Wood 
Yes, there is a certain Lady, that for a Night, you did not care, if you made an exchange with.  Lov. 
Who I? I defy the World.  Wood 
You have not been to Night, with the dearest, the finest Woman?  Lov. 
How! 'Slife, this comes home to me. aside. Who I! I've been Drinking, and Gaming, away with these jealous Fopperies.  Wood 
You were more obliged to the kind shades in St. James' Park, than to the Moon, who's light perhaps might have discovered your error.  Lov. 
O confound her! all's out, how came she to know it? aside  Wood 
What are you studying for an excuse? a lie to put me off with?  Lov. 
I will outface her. aside Now art thou as mad, as blind Love and Jealousy can make thee, prithee to Bed and settle thy Brain, go—  Wood 
Mr. Lovechange, I have no other end in this, more than to let you know your error, and that I am sensible of the indignity, take notice I knew of your meeting at the Duck-Pond side, and shall reward your kindness. She offers to go out.  Lov. 
Duck-Pond side? Stay, I grow serious, that I have infinite obligations to thee, I must ever own, and I had nothing to return you back, but this bare substance, and a gratitude, and what the heats of youth may prompt me too I can't tell; But when you ask me truly what they are I will inform your knowledge, and what you charge me with of this night's action, believe me Madam, is false information, I saw no woman, by the Duck-Pond side.  Wood 
How can I credit this? and yet I should believe him, aside perhaps my eyes informed me of your falsehood, I am not apt to credit evil Tongues.  Lov. 
Oh don't pursue an error, to my prejudice; upon my Honour; by all the vows of sacred Love, and Marriage, I was not near that place, but something I remember passed last night, 'twixt whom I know not, that perhaps deceived you. I'll search it out and satisfy your Jealousy.  Wood 
Oh Heavens! if this be true what thing am I? aside  Lov. 
Come don't vex thyself with peevishness, don't create these ills, that will torment thee. I'll satisfy thy doubt, believe me Dear.  Wood 
Oh I am ruined, [aside] if he be not false, how hard a fate is mine— I'll take your word Sir. Exit Lovechange  Clare. 
For Heaven's sake, Madam keep your courage up, for if you have Cuckold my Master by— mistake, 'tis the best way to put as good a face on't, as you can, there's no recalling it. Lord what a business you make of a thing that is not worth speaking of.  Wood 
But guilt's a strange thing Clare.  Clare. 
Why you don't believe him sure, can all your senses fail you, or will you credit him, in spite of 'em all, you saw, you heard, and felt too, as you say.  Wood 
They were all prepared to receive him, without any other imagination, and might be easily deceived.  Clare. 
But since there's no possibility of any other Person's coming then his, you ought not to give your faith so easily. But Madam, here comes Mr. Courtwell, who will perhaps discover more.  Wood 
Shame, and Confusion, will not let me hear him.  Exit with Clare Enter Courtwell. Court. 
Now, would I give the world to know this Woman's name, and abode, these curiosities, don't usually last after enjoyment, one would have thought I had glutted myself of Womankind for these two days, and of her for ever, but 'twas a sweet plump active Rogue. 'Slife, yonder's the Rogue Lovechange, Enter Lovechange pensive. he looks like a defeated Lover— But what the Devil makes him here at the Widows, well a rich Widow is the very sink of younger Brothers, and harbours more than a Gaming house, I don't like his being here though, it looks like Rivalship, and though it be but Justice in him, yet I can by no means permit it▪ It makes me angry— Why how now Lovechange, methinks thou look'st melancholy upon't, what no hope from the Widow? for I perceive you Rival me.  Lov. 
Oh trouble not your head with the Widow, you may remember I told ye she was not for your turn.  Court. 
Are you sure of that?  Lov. 
Most certain.  Court. 
And are you the Man, the happy Man.  Lov. 
Why, what exceptions have you against me, what, I'll warrant, you thought the noise of Lands, and Joynctures would have carried it, but know Will, that Wit, and Parts are greater Motives.  Court. 
And does your conceit Edward! persuade you to the belief, that you are so qualified?  Lov. 
Faith, I never studied that, but the Ladies are kind, and do tell me of some such charms I am Master of.  Court. 
The Lady too Ned, that you met in the Park, she has that goodness for you too, hah!  Lov. 
She is satisfied, and that's sufficient.  Court. 
I hope she was, for I did my best. Lord Ned, that thou shouldst be so simple, to believe thyself Master of all hearts. All the Ladies submit to you dear Ned, so did the Lady in the Mall, did she not; But there was a Man, (though not so considerable as you Sir) that pleased her better by the Duck-Pond side, and perhaps may make as good an interest in her, as you have in the Widows heart, you guess the Man, and so farewell Ned, farewel, ha', ha', ha'.  Offers to go out. Lov. 
Prithee stay, Egad thou art pleasant company my dear Soul; and was there say you? was there such a spark? that did the feat so well at the Duck-Pond side? ha', ha', ha'?  Court. 
I am glad you are so merry Sir.  Lov. 
Faith, I can't forbear being infinitely pleased to find my friend so happy, I am glad I know this secret, I might have wanted the means to have convinced my Wife else, that 'twas not I, but I wonder who the Devil the Lady should be, surely some one taken with my Person, and that had a certain longing— and how Will, and how did you find her? for I am willing to communicate my blessings.  Court. 
Why hadst thou ever enjoyed her?  Lov. 
In truth not, nor never will for aught I know.  Court. 
You seemed yesterday to praise her to the Skies, and is she fallen so low in your opinion.  Lov. 
She that I spoke of, was, and is the same, and nothing but Age, can alter her from being the finest, sweetest Person in the World.  Court. 
I found her so, (aside) and in her arts of Love, so ravishing—  Lov. 
And was she brisk that way, say you? Will.  Court. 
To a miracle, I can't contain my joy, I must discover all— and now dear Lovechange if thou wouldst let me know her name, and quality?  Lov. 
By my troth Sir, if I could serve you this way, you might command me; But you are already happy enough, be not too glorious with it.  Court. 
What humour's this, I can't understand him, but Clare must be my guide— Your Servant Sir, since you are so fantastic.  Lov. 
Your Servant dear Will, ha', ha'. Exit Lovechange.  Enter Perigreen dressing him. Court. 
I cannot comprehend this Fellow's fancy, now I am for the Widow, whom I must gain in spite of all her peevishness, I know she has no a version to my Person, and though I don't love her much, yet, my Pride obliges me to come off Conqueror, but oh this other lovely, kind, obliging Stranger.  Per. 
Oh excess of Treachery!  Court. 
Who's here, ere another Rival? Pox on 'em, how they swarm about a rich Widow, 'Slife, I think he's dressing himself.  Per. 
Sure Courtwell loves this Lady, for methinks he is very active, how shall I accost him, how as a stranger shall I begin a discourse to him? I'll pretend I am his Rival. aside  Court. 
Your Servant Sir.  Per. 
Yours Sir, proceed if you have aught with me?  Court. 
You look and talk Sir, as if you were Major Domo.  Per. 
It may be Sir I am, will that afflict you?  Court. 
My name is Courtwell Sir, and I pretend to the Lady of this Mansion.  Per. 
Very likely! but whether she will fall to your share or not, is a great question.  Court. 
Not to be made by a Schoolboy, pretty Lad, hast any nickers, or cherry-stones? if thou hast, there be Children of thy own size without, will hold thee play.  Per. 
Oh Sir, I'll give you leave to be witty with my youth, whilst I laugh at your gravity, and wisdom. In short Sir, if the Lady likes the Boy, better than your Manhood, you'll find cold entertainment, go Sir, take this answer, she is not for your turn, go Sir, you lose your time, there is a certain kind, obliging Lady.  Court. 
Oh the Devil have they that story by the end too? Well this Clare has betrayed me, however this little diminutive Man, sha'not affront me, yet hang't he's a child not worth my malice.  Offers to go. Per. 
Hold Sir, you pass no further this way, that leads you to the door.  Court. 
Prit he unhand me youth, thou'lt make me angry, and then I were too blame, with so much innocence.  Per. 
None of your put off's Sir, I am not so young, nor innocent, as you take me to be; I can do many things that would proclaim me Man, don't upbraid the smoothness of my Chin, my Sword's as rough as thine, and I dare draw it.  Court. 
Very pretty. Lord how it tattles, why little talking Monsieur, by what authority do you resist me? can that fair Face disguise itself in anger? and that's the most that thou canst do, let's see thee frown, that perhaps would break a Lady's heart, a soft, young silly Lady, but I make sport at there, ha', ha', ha'.  Per. 
What shall I do, to raise his anger up? For I had rather that way meet my Death, then see him in the embraces of another: That will but kill me a more cruel way. [aside] Come Sir, though you are pleased, I can be angry, you shall find the effects on't, but this is no place to decide the business in, I'll meet you in the Park, a pass, or two will end the fatal difference.  Court. 
Sure he has some other motive than the love of the Widow, that carries him to this rashness, the Boy grows angry, serious, and can fight perhaps. aside  Per. 
No consideration Sir, if you refuse to fight me, I will Pistol ye, take your choice to live with Honour, or to die with Infamy.  Court. 
Well Sir, I'll meet you there, but don't care for fight with thee much.  Per. 
I have Conditions too for Peace, as well as War, and love fight, as little as you, I'm glad he consents to go out o'th' house, I don't care to have my story known to any but himself, who only can relieve me.  Exeunt ambo  
The End of the third Act.   

Actus Quartus,  

Scena Prima.  Scene Easy's house. Enter Mrs. Easie, and Peg. Peg. 
OH dear Madam, what shall we do for Mrs. Grace, I vow she is in the lamentablest taking, nay, and a worse matter than that, my old Master is resolved to fright her out of her wits, till she consent to marry Sir Ralph.  Mrs. Easy. 
Why I thought he had by mistake married Betty.  Peg. 
So he did Madam, but they design to put her off for a piece of money, it being a cheat, and without a Licence, and Betty offers for a thousand pound to sit down with the loss, and release him to Mrs. Grace, but all this does not satisfy, for Mrs. Grace is refractory, and will by no means consent.  Mrs. Easy. 
Poor Grace, what contrivance shall we think of, to release her from her bondage and torment.  Peg. 
Alas Madam, if that were the worst, but her Uncle designs this morning to let out some of her hot blood, as he calls it, he has sent for a Surgeon, and pretending she is mad, means to try conclusions by opening a vein, or two.  Mrs. Easy. 
He dares not be so cruel, and inhuman.  Peg. 
I suppose he dares not design so ill a thing indeed, but she being very young, and innocent, will soon (at least he thinks so) be brought to yield to any thing, rather than be so used, but Madam I have thought of a stratagem; when my Master sends out for a Surgeon, I'll let you see my wit, I will not tell you before hand.  Mrs. Easy. 
Thou art so excellent at contrivance, that I will not question the success, nor ask thee what it is, go on and prosper; but call upon me by and by for a Letter, that I intent to write to Lovechange.  Exeunt severally.  

Scene Second, Chairs set out.  Enter Mr. Easie, Grace, Betty, and Sir Ralph. Mr. Easy. 
This, is your place of execution, consider, repent, and be saved.  Sir Ralph. 
I, I, Mrs. Grace, that's your safest way, 'tis very ill lying in a cold grave this Winter time, a Bed, and a good Bed fellow were much better, consider, consider, I vow my heart bleeds to think how you will suffer for love of me.  Grace. 
What shall I do Betty, is their no way left for my deliverance?  Betty. 
Do not fear it Madam, Peg, and I, have laid our heads together for your relief, however make all the signs of fear you can. aside  Grace. 
I know not what can relieve me, but I will hope well, good Uncle, what is't you'd have me do? how can I marry with a man that is already married?  Mr. Easy. 
Ay, by your contrivance Baggage he is, but thou shalt suffer severely for't, and this Slut I will make dance a new Galliard in Bridewell.  Betty. 
Truly Sir I don't fear you, but for my poor Mistress sake I would do any thing but lose my Husband.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh! I had rather hear a Schreech-Owl then that voice, Husband quotha'? I defy thee.  Betty. 
Why Sir, I have youth and beauty enough to be a Lady.  Sir Ralph. 
Why I tell thee I care not, and thou were't the Devil, so thou hadst money, oh I am distracted to think that I should lose six thousand pound, and Mrs. Grace.  Grace. 
You hear Sir, there's all his grief to lose the money.  Mr. Easy. 
I like him the better for't,— Well you will beg pardon and be received to mercy?  Grace. 
First Sir, let me see Sir Ralph free from Betty, for I confess I would not marry a man that should be in danger of the Gallows.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh how I tremble at that word, I, I, pray good Uncle, let me be freed from this little Jilt here, and then I do not fear my fate as they say with Mrs. Grace, nay if thou dost not release me I will give thee no money, nor no consolation, thou shalt ' en live by thy wits, and thou wilt for Ralph.  Betty. 
I am well enough satisfied to part upon good consideration.  Sir Ralph. 
What be they, what be they, any Condition.  Betty. 
Only giving me a thousand pound Sir.  Sir Ralph. 
How! a thousand pound? Mercy upon us!  Betty. 
I cannot live by my Wits, and therefore—  Sir Ralph. 
Thou wilt ruin me, a thousand pound?  Betty. 
You will lose six by the bargain Sir, in losing my Mistress.  Mr. Easy. 
That's well considered I confess; But will nothing less, than that mighty sum suffice you.  Betty. 
By no means, for Sir I must marry, I would not fall much lower than a Lady Ship.  Sir Ralph. 
O insatiable Woman! a thousand pound! why pray Mrs. Betty be good and merciful.  Betty. 
I have said, and will hold there Sir, or keep my Title.  Sir Ralph. 
I am not able to endure the thoughts of parting with so much money—  Mr. Easy. 
Come Sir Ralph, since there's no other way, you know Mr. Lovechange owes you a thousand pound, give her that Bond, and it shall be sufficient.  Betty. 
I am content to take it Sir, but will Mr. Lovechange pay me, is it a good debt?  Sir Ralph. 
I'll secure it good, here, here's the Bond, take it— and with it my curse. cries Here's an after-clap indeed, had I had any thing for my Money, it would not have grieved me.  Mr. Easy. 
Come Sir, it can't be hope, this 'tis to have to do with any of their Sex. But here's Grace to make you amends with, take her.  Grace. 
Hold Sir, two words to that bargain.  Mr. Easy. 
Refractory still! I will show no mercy on thee, Sir Ralph keep her here, whilst I see if the Surgeon beened come that I sent for?  Exit Easie Sir Ralph. 
Sweet Mrs. Grace consent without compulsion as they say, for I protest but that I have given a thousand pounds towards thee, I would rather give you over, then see you suffer any hurt for me, therefore pray be civil a little, though it be against your inclinations to be so.  Grace. 
I shall not consent.  Enter Mr. Easie, and Amorous, dressed as a Surgeon. Mr. Easy. 
Here Sir, here's your Patient, and though she looks so soberly at present, she's stark mad poor Soul. cries. And because of her Quality, I am loath to have her to Bedlam, if any Cure may be had otherwise.  Grace. 
Sir forbear, I am not mad, nor will be so unless you make me. Amorous holds her, and feels her Pulse.  Amor. 
Alas good Lady, you be troubled wit de Love, wit de vere great extravagance, you be very much distemper'.  Grace. 
You be very much de Coxcomb Sir.  Mr. Easy: 
Ay, now she gins, come, come, to bleeding of her, is not that very good?  Amor. 
We ', we ', ver' necessary, come Lady.  Grace. 
Thou inhuman fellow, thinkest thou indeed I'm distempered, and need thy cure, or if I were so, that thou hast any skill? Yet once you said that Love was my Disease, and that indeed was truth. weeps  Amor. 
Vat Complexion be the Man of that you love, and that can be cruel to so very amiable a Person.  Grace. 
He is not cruel, but my Uncle is, and with your help designs to kill me sure, do so, for since I cannot marry Amorous I do desire to die. weeps.  Mr. Easy. 
See Sir, how her fit altars, she'll laugh again anon, I pray Sir be speedy.  Sir Ralph. 
I am not able to see her blood, and therefore must withdraw. Exit Sir Ralph.  Amor. 
Come Madamosel, you must permit me to do something to cure your amours, let me see, she must be tied to does Chey'r, let me try it first. sits down This is not very convenient Sir, 'tis too hard, and metinks too little.  Mr. Easy. 
'tis well, 'tis well Sir, pray to your business.  Amor. 
No indeed Sir, 'tis not good, make you de experiment pray, and see if 'tis convenient. Old Easie sits down.  Mr. Easy. 
Cock's bodikins, these villainous Outlandish-Men make such a pother, an English Man would have killed you half a score, whilst you cure one. Offers to rise, Amorous holds him down.  Amor. 
Help to bind him fast Boy. They bind him in the Chair.  Mr. Easy. 
What d'ye mean Gentlemen?  Amor. 
Only to tie you up to your good Behaviour a little.  Grace. 
Oh happy deliverance! Amorous is it you?  Amor. 
Yes, and do you shift for yourself, and leave me to handle him. Exit Grace,  Mr. Easie. 
Villains, unhand me, oh thou Monster Amorous, is it thou?  Amor. 
Even I Sir, I am turned Surgeon to serve you Sir, come strip up his Arms, and let us bleed him speedily. I have a drench here that must be given first, 'twil make him bleed like one of twenty. Pours down something.  Mr. Easy. 
Oh I am killed, I am murdered.  Amor. 
No, you are not to die so patiently.  Mr. Easy. 
Yes, I will die on purpose that thou may'st be hanged: no help near? Wife, Grace, Betty, Murder, murder!  Enter Sir Ralph, Jo, and other Servants. Amor. 
Ah Pox of his bawling, I must shift for myself now.  Mr. Easy. 
Oh are you caught Sir, I shall handle you now, 'tis the Rogue Amorous.  Sir Ralph. 
Amorous, how came he in?  Amor. 
How shall he get out, oh the Devil—  Sir Ralph. 
Have I got ye i'faith into my Clutches? Dear Uncle, leave his punishment to me, I have a Servant here that has the notablest Head-piece for Villainy that ever was.  Mr. Easy. 
Do any thing to him, that may torment him sound, have no mercy on him, sweet Sir Ralph.  Sir Ralph. 
I warrant ye Uncle, I have a brave place to put him into, and will have him bastinadoed thrice a day for Recreation, till I have mortified his Love.  Amor. 
Fool, I do despise, and dare thy worst of evils, were Grace but safe, oh I should be content to suffer, I'm sure they dare not murder me.  Sir Ralph. 
Yes Grace shall be safe, and my Wife within this hour; thou shalt never see her face more.  Amor. 
Devil do thy worst!  Sir Ralph. 
Here Io, take him into thy Custody, let him be put into the Vault, let silence and darkness be his Companions.  Io. 
Come Sir, along with me Sir, I shall teach you the art of Surgery.  Sir Ralph. 
Nay, if thou escap'st now, I'll say thou hadst a Witch to thy Mother, and a Devil to thy Father. Exeunt severally  Scene the Park. Enter Courtwell and Perigreen from fight, Perigreen wounded▪ Court. 
Rash Boy! to force me to this rudeness, for 'twas not manhood in me thus to hurt thee, alas, thou couldst not fight, thou hadst no skill to hold thy weapon for thy own advantage.  Per. 
Sir you have done enough if it be home.  Court. 
Sure thou art some poor despairing thing that seekest a Death from any hand, why didst thou choose out mine, for that base action, there are a thousand Murderers, Ruffians, things desperate as thyself, that would have done this, with the least provocation, why didst thou choose a Gentleman?  Per. 
Thou a Gentleman? could any thing, that is not basely born, commit such villainies as thou hast done, ere since thou called'st thyself a Man?  Court. 
Come don't talk, but let me lead thee to a Surgeon.  Enter Mrs Woodbee, and Clare. Wood 
Mr. Perigreen and Courtwell say you? how in the name of wonder should they come to fall out?  Clare. 
Nay, I know not Madam, but I believe 'twas about you.  Wood 
Me? But see Clare where they are—  Per. 
Curse on her for coming now, a little time might have discovered all.  Court. 
I'm glad she has released me.  Wood 
Gentlemen, I heard of some difference between you, and thought it but Justice to prevent further danger.  Court. 
'twas well, and charitably performed, Widow, but I suppose 'twas care of your new Gallant here that hastened you.  Wood 
Oh villainous Courtwell! what hast thou done! the poor youth bleeds— alas, Sir, let's haste for some relief?  Court. 
Widow I have a word with you, before you go.  Wood 
I have nothing to say to you, forbear. Exeunt Clare and Perigreen.  Court. 
But I must stay you for a small season to tell you Widow you are a—  Wood 
What thou Impertinent?  Court. 
A strange inconstant, faithless, amorous thing, whom I have now thrown from my heart.  Wood 
Have you so Sir?  Court. 
Yes, and to make thee wretched, know I love elsewhere?  Wood 
Yes Sir, your new Lady perhaps, which you met last night in the Mall.  Court. 
How! I did not think thou hadst been arrived to the years of Witchcraft yet, Widow?  Wood 
There needs none to know your secrets Sir, one need but have the faculty of hearing well, to know 'em all, for you are loud enough in the Proclamation of'em.  Court. 
Now are all my hopes dashed here, this must be Clare, or Lovechange, the last I believe, purposely to ruin all my expectations with the Widow, that Rascal I must sighed [aside] truth is I did meet a Lady in the Mall, a fine handsome airy Rogue.  Wood 
And was she kind too?  Court. 
Wondrous kind, nay of herself, so wittily found out the place of entertainment, and made the treat too, when she came there.  Wood 
How Sir! were you in any House?  Court. 
House? no, we enjoyed ourselves like the gods of old, in Groves, and Gloomy shades, on Rivers Banks, faith Widow, to kill thee quite, I met a Lady on the Duck-Pond side, that would have fired an Anchoret:  Wood 
How Sir? by the Duck-Pond side, thou'lt kill me indeed, if thou undeceiv'st me not presently? aside  Court. 
Even there— since Lovechange, has told her I'll do his business for him. aside I must confess the blessing was not designed for me, but Lovechange, I dressed myself as like as possible,— and took all she said to him, on myself.  Wood 
Oh I am ruined! and was she easily won Sir? for perhaps I know the Lady— Oh how curious I am to know my own dishonour. [aside]  Court. 
I do suppose Lovechange had prepared her, for to me she made but weak resistance, she said 'twas well the darkness hide her blushes, and that the Bench was a very undecent place.  Wood 
My very words! Oh I could kill the Rascal! what different passions is my Soul possessed with! (aside) Courtwell, thou art a Villain, this Lady I know, and thou hast abused her honour, not won her heart, and all the rest was but a Rape, a base unworthy Rape, and one perhaps that shall be revenged.  Exit Mrs. Woodbee Court. 
By this light the Widow loves me, I know it by her Jealousy, perhaps this may be the critical minute, I'll follow her and try my chance: Perhaps too I may learn something from this young Bully that may explain this Riddle to me. Exit Courtwell.  The Widows House, Enter Lovechange. Lov. 
How shall I contrive to see my dear Mistress? For I am not able to live without her, though I am a damned mad fellow, and love all her Sex in general, yet in her is bounded all my love and pleasure— Pox on't, I am damned dull at Invention.  Enter Clare. Clare. 
What melancholy after his Gaming? Well I hope I may trust myself alone with him to day, therefore I'll venture in. aside What Sir, in a doleful dump? what would you give to be put out on't now.  Lov. 
Prithee good property of my Wife, leave me.  Clare. 
Faith Sir, I would have a word or two in private with you first  Lov. 
Pox on't, thou wouldst not be so forward if I desired thy Company now.  Clare. 
What will you say now, and I'll tell you what you are thinking on.  Lov. 
Not of your late cruelty to me Clare! nor care I a farthing if you are come to offer me, what you then denied me, and therefore leave me.  Clare. 
Faith Sir, I have not the heart to obey you till I have left you in better humour, come Sir!  Lov. 
If I should trust a secret with thee Clare, thou would be blabbing it to my Wife.  Clare. 
You can trust me with nothing but what I know already Sir!  Lov. 
Faith 'tis not unlikely!  Clare. 
I am acquainted Sir, with all your last night's Intrigue.  Lov. 
The Devil thou art— and like a wicked Jade, thou hast informed my Wife.  Clare. 
And is that the cause of your affliction?  Lov. 
That's all, that's all, but Clare was it kindly done to turn a base Informer here at home, just thus it had been hadst thou been kind to me, on my Conscience, thou wouldst have told thy Mistress on't.  Clare. 
I hope you don't think me so simple Sir.  Lov. 
Thou never consider'st the evil consequences Clare, of carrying Tales? now must my daily allowance be shortened, now must I drudge at home, for the expenses of my Whoring abroad, nay and perhaps be chained up like a Mastiff dog all day, to make me more fierce a nights: well Clare, if I am forced to keep home for want of stock, and kept fasting, the whole force of my hungry love will fall most heavily on thee, and I will show thee no more mercy, than thou hast done to me.  Clare. 
I don't fear you Sir, since you were with so fine a Lady last night.  Lov. 
I am found out, they know my Roguery, and have mistake the place only but thats enough to ruin me. (aside) But Clare— Is there no hopes of a forgiveness? no making up of this breach? Methinks you should follow the greatest examples, that forgive all faults confessed with penitence, I must confess, I had a Lady, Clare.  Clare. 
Oh, wicked Man! how stiffly he denied this to my Lady to day! Well Sir, what will you give me to absolve this sin, and restore you to my Mistress' grace again?  Lov. 
Give thee? Why my heart, thou shalt command me.  Clare. 
Why then Sir, 'twas even my Mistress, and your own Wife that met you at the Duck-Pond side:  Lov. 
What? the Duck-Pond side?  Clare. 
I Sir, and in St. James' Park, where you were kinder to her, than ever you were before.  Lov. 
Ouns! my Wife?  Clare. 
Yes, your Wife, don't disturb yourself, 'twas but one night's loss to you, and that sure you may afford for all she has done for you▪ saith Sir, we knew of your Intrigue, and were resolved to counterplot ye, ha', ha', ha'.  Lov. 
Devil! why dost laugh?  Clare. 
To think how safe you fancied yourself to be in the Arms of Mrs. Easie.  Lov 
Oh Curse! I am miserable both ways, not only to find myself Cuckolded by Courtwell (aside) but to have this discovery of my love made to my dear Easy.  Clare. 
What, are you disordered still? Troth, I think you may be glad to make your peace on an any terms.  Lov. 
One comfort I have yet left, I'm released from the slavery of my Wife by knowing I am a Cuckold, and that shall secure the credit too of my dear Mistress whose Honour's now in danger, this secret too, 'tis fit I find some way to let her know, and consult how to prevent a further growth, and thou Courtwell shalt feel the effects of my displeasure. Exit Lovechange.  Clare. 
O Lord, what have I done! he talks as if it were not he that met my Mistress, but Courtwell, I am quite undone. 'Tis so by my Maidenhead, if I could be serious now; I could cry, and fret myself into a Consumption, for this unlucky mistake of mine, which I dare not discover to my Lady neither, she has vexation enough already without this addition, oh that I could bring all about again?  Exit Clare. Mr. Easy's house, Enter Sir Ralph and Jo. Io. 
Oh Sir! I have excellent news for you, the lost sheep is found, I have taken your Mistress Sir, just as she was marching off with all her Movables, her Jewels, and other Toys, and Sir I have her fast—  Sir Ralph. 
Where?  Io. 
In a certain convenient dark Lodging, which her Uncle provided for her, where she shall fast and pray, till her stomach come down to marry you Sir.  Sir Ralph. 
Ay Io, would I had her? that is her money, for she is very beautiful that way. Io, but hark ye I would fain see her, I know her mind, for 'tis a pretty little Rogue.  Io. 
Sir, I can do you that favour, for her Uncle has committed the Key to my charge, with a command that none but you shall see her. Exit Jo.  Jo Reenters with Grace. Sir Ralph. 
So Mrs. Grace, what is your stomach come down or not?  Grace. 
No, nor never will to thee, had you loved me, you could not have suffered me to be used thus for your sake, a Gentleman would have desisted, after so much aversion as I have shown you.  Sir Ralph. 
Pshaw, whaw, tell not me of desisting, nor aversions as I have shown ye. Mrs. Grace, you are a Fool, and done't know so well as your Uncle and I, what's good for you, I have two thousand pound a year mun, and I am a Knight, and all that must, keep my Gilt Coach, and five livery men— and Amorous has scarce a shilling for a dirty Hack.  Io. 
My Master speaks reason to you Lady.  Grace. 
Your Master and you, are a couple of sots, impertinent Fools, I hate ye both, and would not marry him, though I should perish there, whence you draw me now, 'tis Paradise compared to where thou art.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh Rare! oh rich! what, you can rant, and scold, one would have thought I vow that Butter would not a melted in her mouth.  Grace. 
You'll make me rave, you will, and I will Rave too, you can't tie my tongue up, that's still free to curse you with.  Io. 
Toes, here's fine do.  Sir Ralph. 
Io, carry her down, she may be tame ere night.  Grace. 
Do what thou wilt, thou shalt never bring me to be tame enough for thee: this dark, this solitary Cave best suits my absent Love, here I contemplate, here my thoughts are free, and like a little Bird I'll sit, and sing a melancholy note within my little Cave.  Sir Ralph. 
I, do what you will, we shall change your note, fear it not. Exit Sir Ralph.  Jo, puts her down. Io. 
So, now you are fast again, well I am a cruel Rogue, for all this though, that can find no remorse. Enter Amorous  Amor. 
How now Goaler, what black deed are you a doing there?  Io. 
Only a putting your Mistress into her hole Sir.  Amor. 
My Mistress there, thou art not so barbarous?  Io. 
Indeed I am Sir.  Amor. 
Was it for this your kindness brought me out, and changed my Lodging for this opener place to bury her in, Dog, set her lose or by the sacred passion I have for that fair Maid I'll strangle thee.  Io. 
Say you so Sir, you had better let me alone though, hark Sir, she's well contented with her retirement. Grace sings below.  Amor. 
Oh charming Virgin, how thy innocence can make thy entertainment, sirrah deliver the Key, or thou'rt dead.  Io. 
Stand off Sir, I have a rusty Sword, and you have no weapon, stand off, or—  Amor. 
Slave dost dare me?—. Runs into him, takes away his Sword, and wounds him.  Io. 
Oh I am dead, I am dead! stark stone dead.  Amor. 
'Slife I think the Rogue speaks truth, he's dead indeed, but if he be I'll justify the action, stay, what am I next to do? In passing out perhaps I may be seen— I have devised a way for my escape, but first I'll release my fair Prisoner. Vnlocks the Vault, and enters.  Io. 
Now if I durst stir, I would get away and show 'em such a trick— but hark they are ascending, and I must lie perdieu. lies down again.  Amor. 
My Dearest! 'tis no time to express joy in, this fellow I fear is dead, and we have both need of a safe retreat, here's the Key of the Gate to the Fields, get you out, and go the back way to my Aunts, 'tis but six doors off, you know she'll receive you well, whilst I escape another way.  Grace. 
My dearest Amorous, take care of what I love, and let me see thee quickly released from this base Mansion, where naught but terror dwells. Exit Grace.  Amor. 
Come Sir, I have a word or two with you in the next room, I'll put on this Rogue's disguise, and that will be a means for my escape. Exit Amorous dragging out Jo by the heels Enter Mrs. Easie.  Mrs. Easy. 
This Wench stays very long, I hope she has found my dear Lovechange. Enter Mr. Easie, peeping after his Wife.  Mr. Easy. 
My heart tells me there is something a forging, but what I know not, perhaps I may know more. Enter Peg not seeing Easy  Peg. 
Madam, here's the answer to your Letter.  Mr. Easy. 
How! a Letter to my Wife? gently, good supporters, gently. As Peg and Mrs. Easie stands to read the Letter, he steals behind them & with his Spectacles reads over their shoulders  Mrs. Easie. 
Why didst thou stay so long? It grows late, and I am impatient to be gone to Lovechange.  Mr. Easy. 
O rare! is it thereabouts with you? aside  Peg. 
I vow Madam, he kept me there so long— ask me questions about you, kissing your dear Letter, and sending so many recommendations to you, and so many curses to my old Master.  Mr. Easy. 
Fine, delicate young Bawd. aside  Mrs. Easie. 
I had rather he should wish him well Peg. That's in Heaven.  Mr. Easy. 
Hum, hum, charitable, kind Wife. aside  Mrs. Easie. 
But to my Letter, dear Lovechange let me kiss thee, before I read thee. kisses the Letter, and reads.  Mr. Easy. 
Excellent! Aside  Mrs. Easie. 
Alas Peg, we are all undone, Lovechange can't meet me at Mrs. Woodbee's to night, for reasons he will tell me anon; but how anon dear Peg, and where? for I am not able to live this night without him.  Peg. 
That too, I have to tell you by word of mouth.  Mr. Easy. 
O horrid impudence! aside Are you not so Mistress, nay never stare, 'tis I, even I, the poor old Cuckold, that you wish so well too.  Mrs. Easy. 
O sad! What shall I do?  Mr. Easy. 
No evasions, no lies shall serve you, come I will lock thee up from all humane society, and have no mercy on thee.  Mrs. Easy. 
Dear Husband!  Mr. Easy. 
Dear Devil! For such, and so severe I'll be unto thee.  pulls her in. Peg. 
Now all the Plot's spoiled, this will go hard with my poor Mistress, I'll try my Wit once more for her deliverance, for I would not have her disappoint Mr. Lovechange's expectations, she must meet him to night. Exit Peg,  Enter Sir Ralph, and two Fellows with Battoons. Sir Ralph. 
Come Brothers of the Battoon, open that door, for there's the subject of your mirth, oh how we will swinge the Rascal, and do you hear Bulleys, you must be sure you beat him, till he resign (before you that are my Witnesses) Mrs. Grace to me.  1 Fel. 
I warrant you Sir, They draw aside the Curtain and discover Jo sitting in a chair, dressed in Amorous his clothes. for your business done.  Io. 
Sure 'tis the Rascal Amorous returned to make me sure, therefore to my counterfeiting. aside sits still.  Sir Ralph. 
There he sits, Gentlemen to your business.  Jo. 
'Tis so, there's no resistance to be made.  Sir Ralph. 
But first let me take him into examination, come sirrah answer me precisely to these particulars, first how long have you commenced Doctor of Divinity (for all is out) how came you to marry me to Mrs. Betty? a pox of your sanctified cause, 'thas cost me a thousand pounds good English Money.  Jo. 
'Tis Sir Ralph my Master. aside  Sir Ralph. 
No reply sirrah, next you quitted the long Robe, and transformed yourself to a French Doctor, a plague of your Physic, as my Uncle may say. And lastly, sirrah you would have cheated me of Mrs. Grace, for which three enormities I will chastise thee most abundantly. They beat him  Jo. 
Hold Sir, what do you mean Sir?  Sir Ralph. 
Bind him fast Gentlemen.  Jo. 
I am not Amorous Sir, a pox of my Vizor, I can't get it off.  Sir R. 
Stop his mouth Gentlemen, for so he served my Nuncle Easy.  Jo. 
I am not Amorous Sir, but, but—  Sir Ralph. 
Stop his mouth I say, have no mercy on him, so now bastinado him sound. They beat him, he cries out the while.  Jo. 
Murder, murder, I am dead, and you shall all be hanged.  Overturns the Chair and falls down. Sir Ralph. 
Oh Gentlemen he's dead indeed, what shall we do now?  2 Fel. 
We care not Sir, if he be dead, we shan't be hanged for him, 'tis only you shall suffer, who set us on:  Sir Ralph. 
Here be rare Rogues, no life? no he's gone, quite gone! oh what shall I do? a pox of Mrs. Grace, and all her Race, accursed I may say.  1 Fel. 
Farewell Sir, we'll shift for ourselves. Exit Rogues.  Sir Ralph. 
I'll go hid myself somewhere from the hands of Justice.  
Ah Grace, 'tis thou'rt the cause of all my dolour,  
But how shall I escape the Hempen Collar. Exit.   
The End of the fourth Act.   

Actus Quintus,  

Scena Prima.  Enter Peg running, after her Sir Ralph. Sir Ralph. 
SWeet Mrs. Margaret don't fly me, I protest I'll do you no harm, alas I'm in distress, and only beg thy assistance.  Peg. 
What's the matter Sir Ralph?  Sir Ralph. 
Oh I have committed, I dare not tell thee all▪  Peg. 
What, Adultery? or Fornication Sir?  Sir Ralph. 
Neither, but a worse matter by much, I have killed Mr▪ Amorous, and desire you to conceal me a little, I dare not tell my Uncle? cries  Peg. 
Amorous I'm sure is safe enough, and so is Gracy, what can this fool mean? But I will now make use of him: well though I say it, I am full of device and contrivance: aside This accident Sir Ralph is very unlucky, but if you will take my advice I'll secure you.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh any thing dear Mrs. Margaret.  Peg. 
And can you keep counsel too?  Sir Ralph. 
Yes sure, where my life depends on't?  Peg. 
You must then beg leave of my Master, to make a visit to my Mistress, she is kept a close Prisoner in her Chamber upon some Jealousy that's come into his Noddle, I know you may be admitted.  Sir Ralph. 
And what then?  Peg. 
Oh let me alone then to work for your safety; do this presently, and before the news of your kill Amorous arrive to his Ear.  Sir Ralph. 
I, I, I'll follow your counsel. cries  Peg. 
There must be something in't, where is the body of this dead Man?  Sir Ralph. 
In the apartment of the Garden, but pray say nothing and here's something to close thy mouth. Exit Sir Ralph.  Peg. 
So, I hope this Plot will take, I must next invent a way to let my Mistress know my design, and since I am not permitted to see her, I'll write by this Fop. Exit Peg.  Enter Mrs. Woodbee, and Clare. Wood 
What strange misfortune rules the fate of things, the first Revenge that ever I designed, that it should so unhappily fall on my own head, 'tis too certain that I did meet Courtwell instead of my Husband: And 'tis as certain that he took me for Mrs. Easie, when I consider my condition, I find it every way so deplorable that without some extraordinary change, I shall grow weary of my Life, I am mad, and know not whom to be revenged on.  Clare. 
Faith Madam, carry on the Intrigue, and let's make a perfect Plot on't? Enter Lovechange Here comes a principal Engineer in the work.  Lov. 
I can't meet this Rascal Courtwell, for though I don't love this foolish Woman, whose jealousy has made me a Cuckold: Yet i'm in honour bound to fight the Villain, 'twas happy as it proved, that 'twas not my dear Mistress, yet either way he merits my chastisement. aside  Wood 
Oh what shall I do? I have not power to withdraw. aside  Clare. 
All this is my Roguery. aside  Lov. 
Good Evening to you Madam.  Wood 
Why this distance Lovechange?  Lov. 
Why these Tears?  Wood 
For your unkindness Sir.  Lov. 
'Tis rather Madam, for your own lewdness, come I will not entertain you with the circumstances, but to the business, I will part with you, you know the entertainment which you gave young Courtwell on the Riverside i'th' Park, I know it too, and would have killed you for the deed, but that I know the offence ought to be charged on your curiosity, you thought to have met me there.  Wood 
'tis true, and will you punish so severely a fault of Love, alas, I meant no harm.  Lov. 
'twas harm to be so curious, to be jealous, and harm to think of cheating me, for so t'had been if I had met you there instead of Mrs. Easie, for I find you knew the design.  Wood 
And are not you as guilty Sir, as I?  Lov. 
No, 'tis the scandal makes the sin, and not the action, custom makes it sin to us; when you offend, I bear the dishonour on't, when I, you but the little griefs. In fine, Madam I am resolved to part, none knows, as yet, that we are married, and if you please it may be still concealed.  Wood 
I've nothing Sir to answer for myself, and since I can't have your heart, I am content to quit your Person too, you know the Articles between us Sir, when I married you, I made you Master of half my Fortune, take it, and what remains I will enjoy myself with, give me your hand— Farewell, I've had an ill bargain of thee, for a poor Month's service, thou hast cost me ten thousand pounds.  
Well Clare, in this divorce some ease I find,  
Since I am free, to Courtwell I'll be kind. Exeunt Clare and Wood  Lov. 
So, I have shaken thee off, and with very little remorse too Egad— Thou were't a good Woman, but thou'rt gone— hang sorrow— I'll to my sweet, pretty, little, dear Mrs. Easie, and if she can but contrive to do as much for her Husband, as i've done for my Wife, we'll ' en strike up a match A-la-mode. Exit Lovechange.  Enter Mrs. Easie dressed in Sir Ralph's clothes, and Peg with her. Peg. 
So, so, thus far it has succeeded well.  Mrs. Easy. 
I would thou couldst but see the Knight dressed in my Nightgown, and Linen, 'tis a sight worth the laughing at, i've charged him to sit very pensive, and dark, and to answer for me to every question asked, if my Husband should come to catechise him.  Peg. 
'Twou'd be a Dialogue worth the harkening too, he knowing nothing of your affairs— 'tis like his answers must be very proper to the questions. Enter Mr. Easie.  
ud's life Madam, here's my Master, what shall we do?  Mrs. Easy. 
Let me alone with him, 'tis pretty dark he can't well distinguish me.  Mr. Easy. 
Sir Ralph, when you asked me leave to give a visit to my Wife, I did not desire the doors should have been shut upon you, I harkened, and must tell you, I believe you were no better than you should be.  Mrs. Easy. 
Truth is Sir, since you have found us out, I only pretended to Mrs. Grace, but your Wife was my main design.  Mr. Easy. 
How! Why thou impudent Varlet, oh horrible? darest thou make me a Cuckold? and tell me so? sirrah I know thou art a Coward, and I will beat thee, yes I dare venture on thee. Draws  Mrs. Easie. 
Nay, then 'tis time to show a fair pair of heels, farewel Sir, I'll leave your house. runs out.  Mr. E. 
I will not let thee go so, if I have any daring in me. runs after.  Peg. 
‛ S●ife I know she cannot fight, I'll after her, and see to call some body to her assistance. runs out.  Enter Lovechange as in a street. Lov. 
I see no light in my Mistress' Chamber, I wonder where they are all, and that Peg brings me no answer.  Enter Mrs. Easie running. Mrs. Easy. 
Lovechange, dear, assist me!  Lov. 
What the Devil art thou? Enter old Easy, and Peg.  Mr. Easy. 
Oh thou Traitor to my house, have I trusted thee to this end, to rob me of my Wife and Honour?  Mrs. Easy. 
So, I have made fine work—  Lov. 
Stay Sir, don't hurt him, for who e'er he be, if he have wronged your Wife, I will revenge it, thy Arm's too weak for such a glorious deed.  Mr. Easy. 
hay day! another Rival! oh I begin to see I am a most notorious Monster, I dare not encounter him though, but for thee thou villainous Sir Ralph.—  Lov. 
Sir Ralph my Rival!— go Sir withdraw, this is not work for you, leave me to be your Champion.  Mr. Easy. 
Yes, yes, against my will I do— but I will home and claw my Wife, my fine whorish Wife, away for this. Exit Easie  Lov. 
Now Sir, you and I, must have a touch.  Mrs. Easy. 
Or two I hope Lovechange, before we part.  Lov. 
Are you so brisk Sir?  Mrs. Easy. 
You shall try that anon.  Lov. 
Draw then Sir, for I am ready.  Mrs. Easy. 
Hold, hold, dear Lovechange, put up, we'll fight it out in another place.  Lov. 
My noble Mistress.  Mrs. Easy. 
My dear Lovechange the same, stole out purposely to meet thee, my Husband has found out our Intrigue, and I dare return no more, I'll tell you all the story at large, let's hast— but whither?  Lov. 
I have taken a private Lodging on purpose to night in a friend's house, whom I can trust, fear nothing—  Mrs. Easy. 
But thy inconstancy, Lovechange.  Lov. 
Sooner thy soul may change its goodness and generosity, or any thing more impossible, come the Moons up, and we for our more security will go through the Park. Exeunt omnes  Scene the Park, Enter Perigreen and Courtwell severally Per. 
Here they say he's walking, I long to know the worst of my sad fate, 'tis strange he should not know me, he's here— your Servant Sir.  Court. 
Yours Sir, have you forgiven my Morning's Compliment? how does your wound Sir?  Per. 
'tis not troublesome.  Court. 
Pray Sir, tell me, and tell me seriously, what moved you to this rage against me? how came you to be angry? you told me something of Camilla too, which Sir, has made me thoughtful ever since, are you indeed acquainted with that Lady?  Per. 
Yes Sir, most intimately, there's nothing of her soul that's hid from me, she told me how she loved, and what false breath betrayed her to that weakness.  Court. 
Poor Camilla!  Per. 
Your pity comes too late, for Sir she's dead, killed by your cruelty, which at once has robbed the World, and me, of all we held most dear.  Court. 
Since she's gone, I'll put this penance on myself; I'll marry nothing that is young, or beautiful.  Per. 
But can you talk of marrying any?  Court. 
Why not Sir, whilst there be women and money to be had, and I suppose you will be of my mind too.  Enter Lovechange and Mrs. Easie. Lov. 
Ha! Courtwell! come Sir, you and I must Tilt a little.  Court. 
How! for what? prithee leave fooling.  Lov. 
For several Reasons, but first upon the Widows score, you have debauched her Sir.  Court. 
What dost mean Ned? I debauch the Widow?  Lov. 
Yes, you Sir.  Court. 
Thou'rt mad.  Lov. 
No Sir, you have forgot the Lady you made love to, by the Duck-Pond side?  Court. 
I had a Lady Sir, but she I thought had been thy Mistress.  Lov. 
For that I'll kill thee too if possible.  Court. 
That were the juster quarrel of the two, but I have reason too, to fight with thee, who told the Widow of my being there thinking to undermine me.  Lov. 
Come Sir, no argument, but this.  Mrs. Easy. 
D'ye hear Lovechange, pray don't fight, for than I must be forced to discover myself.  Lov. 
This won't satisfy, stand by dear friend, my honour is engaged, and I must fight,  Court. 
I wait you Sir.  Per. 
Dear Courtwell, don't fight, for if you die, I'll wait on you to your Grave. weeps  Court. 
Whence comes this pretty softness? why for me?  Per. 
Dost thou not know me yet? Methinks by my faint sigh, thou mightst discover— Thy once loved Camilla, at least this voice, might well enough inform thee. discovers herself  Lov. 
This is wondrous!  Court. 
Yes I do know thee, and am ashamed to tell thee that I do so.  Mrs. Easy. 
What the Devil, is't a woman all this while?  Per. 
I can forgive you, if you can be penitent, but on no other terms.  Court. 
I would not ask it any other way.  Per. 
Don't let me ask thee that I am ashamed to sue to thee for, can you not guests what ' 'tis?  Court. 
Marry thee, by all that's good I'll do't.  Lov. 
This reformation pleases me, and ends our quarrels; come Sir I'm still your friend, if you need my assistance, I am at your service, if not, I have a little piece of transformation here too, that longs to be alone with me.  Court. 
A Woman this Ned?  Lov. 
Yes indeed, and the same you thought you had possessed on the Riverside.  Court. 
Give me the honour of your hand Madam, and your forgiveness.  Mrs. Easy. 
You have it Sir, and you pretty Sir, I hope we shall be better acquainted hereafter. Exeunt Lovechange, and Mrs. Easie.  Court. 
Come dear Camilla I will lose no time.  Per. 
I'm overjoyed at this return of Love!  
May every moment the rich store improve. Ex. Court. and Per.  Scene Mr. Easy's house, Enter Sir Ralph in Woman's clothes, to him Easy. Mr. Easy. 
One comfort I have yet, that my Wife is in my hands to handle how I please, I'll be revenged on her bones however, come impudence let me take you into examination, nay never hid your face, for you are past blushing, come to your Catechise, come.  Sir Ralph. 
O Lord! what shall I do now? my Nuncle knows all, and I shall be hanged. aside  Mr. Easie. 
Hadst thou had fear before thy eyes, thou couldst not ha'been, to abomination, wicked?  Sir Ralph. 
I, I, 'tis plain, I do confess I am something wicked. cries  Mr. Easie. 
Are you so? where learned you this ha'? at Church?  Sir Ral. 
No indeed Sir, I have not been at Church these many years.  Mr. Easy: 
Oh impudence! to confess this to me! was it for this, I took thee into my house? needy, and poor, and made Mistress of all my family, my goods, my wealth, and now dost thou contrive to Cuckold me, to entertain a lewd Rascal to Whore thee, to mine, and thy eternal shame, what answer canst thou make?  Sir Ralph. 
hay toss! the old Man's mad, what the Devil does he mean now? aside  Mr. Easie. 
You must have your youngster with a Pox to you, I was the old Fool, the Cuckold, the Ass, to bear all, I, what say you in your vindication?  Sir Ralph. 
I am in good hope he does not take me, to be me, I were best to say nothing for fear he should know me. aside  Mr. Easie. 
Speak impudence, and tell truth, for it shall be thy last.  Sir R. 
How! my last? I had as good speak and be hanged, as have my throat cut silently, I don't like this same dying of any sort. aside  Mr. E. 
What say you Mrs. Jilt, what say you for yourself? not a word? I'll break silence then, take that, and that— and that, beats him.  Sir Ralph. 
Oh Plague of your chastising, hold, hold!  Mr. Easy. 
Oh are you pliant, are you Mistress?  Sir Ralph. 
Yes Sir as pliant as you shall be immediately.  Gets a Battoon and beats Easy. Mr. Easy. 
Hold, hold, Murder, murder, dost thou add this to thy other wickedness? of chastising thy own natural Husband.  Sir R. 
You lie Sir, you lie, I am none of your Wife, I defy thee, renounce me quickly, or I'll beat thee into nothing.  Mr. Easy. 
Renounce thee? yes I do renounce thee, for thou art a most notorious Whore, and I scorn thee.  Sir Ralph. 
I will beat thee, till thou deny that too, come Sir about, about, exercise your musty part, come Sir. beats him again.  Mr. Easy. 
Murder, murder! no help? shall I be killed like Actaeon with my own Bitch, ha'?  Enter Amorous disguised, and Grace. Sir Ralph. 
Nay, now I shall be betrayed.  Amor. 
Dear Madam! why so cruel! let me interpose?  Mr. Easy. 
Who art thou.  Amor. 
One Sir, related to you now, I am Amorous and thy Kinsman.  Mr. Easy. 
How! oh undone! undone!  Amor. 
Not so Sir, Grace will give me a better Character, and you must be contented for we are married Sir.  Grace. 
Yes indeed Sir, we are married, and beg your good liking of it.  Sir Ralph. 
Amorous alive! and married to Grace? nay then 'tis no time to dissemble.  Mr. Easy. 
Oh miserable man! Grace married to thee? how many misfortunes arrive on the neck one of another to make me unhappy, my Wife a Whore, and my Niece married, oh, oh, ho.  Sir Ralph. 
Nay Sir, I'll keep you company, for I am the miserabler man of the two.  Mr. Easy. 
Why who are you?  Sir Ralph. 
Would I had a Wife, to have been a Whore too for me, would I had been the biggest Cuckold in London, so I had had Grace and all her money.  Mr. Easy. 
Worse, and worse! what art thou?  Sir Ralph. 
What am I? what should I be? a man as thou art, I am—  Amor. 
Sir Ralph Spatter?  Sir Ralph. 
Yes, that I am, i'm sure you have used me scurvily.  Mr. Easy. 
This not my Wife?  Sir Ralph. 
No, not your wife Sir, I would I were any thing but Sir Ralph, any thing but damnable cheating, cozening woman.  Grace. 
I always told you Sir Ralph, that I would never marry any but Mr. Amorous:  Sir R. 
I thought I had made him sure, why Sir if it were not you that was dead? who was it I killed?  Amor. 
Sir, I will show you presently. Goes out, and brings in Jo in Amorous is clothes.  Sir Ralph. 
How! my own man! Io! nay if I had thought t'had been but him that I killed, I had never took this disguise.  Io. 
Why Sir, had I been killed, you would as soon have hanged for't, as for Mr. Amorous.  Sir Ralph. 
Why, thou were't not dead then?  Io. 
No indeed Sir, which was no fault of yours, but of my own natural ability, for you laid it on, without mercy.  Sir Ralph. 
'Tis no matter, why did not you speak then?  Io. 
Because you would not let me, nor hear me when I did, but I thank my stars you are served in your kind.  Sir Ralph. 
And didst thou know of the going away of these two Lovers?  Io. 
Yes Sir, but durst not resist them, I would have pursued 'em, had you given me leave to speak.  Sir Ralph. 
How got you lose and be hanged, when the Steed was stolen?  Io. 
By great good Fortune, Mrs. Peg coming to look for Mr. Amorous his dead body as you directed, found me, and untying me, saw 'twas I, and conjured me in return to that good office, not to come into your presence, till I knew Mr. Amorous, and Mrs. Grace, were married.  Sir Ralph. 
How! Rogues amongst ourselves? my own servant turn upon me, well Jo, well, I'll be even with thee for this, however I thrive.  Mr. Easy. 
Well, since I cannot strive against fate, and that I think I am not long lived, I will say Heavens bless you together; and you Sir Ralph, I only desire to know how you came in my Wife's Night-cloaths, 'twas not long since you passed out of my house, boasting your love for my Wife, and telling me—  Sir Ralph. 
Who I Sir, no, no, 'twas not I, alas I flew hither by Peg's advice for refuge, but I find 'twas only a trick to abuse me with, and to help your Wife to make an escape.  Mr. Easy. 
Escape! Why, is my Wife gone? nay then by this time she has acted, what before was but designed, and by this time I am a most formidable monster, however I am arrived to this knowledge, that nothing can oppose a woman's will. But I'll be divorced from her, and let her see, what her new Gallant will do.  Enter Courtwell, and Camilla. Mr. Easy. 
What's here to do, more mischief? nay, nay, never bow to me, I imagine what 'tis you would say; pardon me Sir for the freedom I have taken in choosing a Wife without your approbation, and so forth.  Court. 
You are in the right Sir.  Mr. Easy. 
Am I so Sir? A Pox take ye all, may you be Cuckolds as great as I am! and have the consolation to know it, as well as I do, with all my heart, I say, with all my heart, d'ye ye hear?  Enter Mrs. Woodbee and Clare. Wood 
Sir, I am come, not out of kindness to you, but revenge, to let you know—  Mr. Easy. 
That I am a Cuckold, a contented yielding Cuckold, yes spare your pains, I know't, I know't, Mistress d'ye hear, I know't, and am contented, and what have you to say to this, ha'?  Wood 
I am glad you know your misery as well as I do mine.  Mr. Easy. 
Thine? I wish no better companion, much good may it do you, d'ye hear? very much good, oh it lightens my heart!  Wood 
I have a Husband Sir—  Mr. Easy. 
Yes, and I have a Wife— Confound her—  Wood 
And do you know my Husband is the man that Cuckolds you?  Mr. Easy. 
How! thy Husband! still better, and better! I desire no greater Plague should befall you, then to feel what I do.  Wood 
You are very uncharitable, but Sir I find my heart much at ease, and since this common Calamity has befallen me, I am resolved to make the best on't, I have put off my Husband, and intent to entertain a Gallant.  Court. 
Faith Madam i'm sorry I cannot serve you, for i'm newly entering upon that dangerous Sea, where you have been too lately shipwreck.  Wood 
Why Mr. Courtwell, you are not married?  Court. 
Yes indeed am I  Clare. 
Faith Madam, I'd ' en think of Mr. Perigreen, he's very pretty, and very young.  Court. 
Sayest thou so Clare? to thy hearts breaking, behold, that pretty young Gentleman is become a Lady, and my Wife, Clare.  Clare. 
Is he? well there's no trust in humane things! well the Town's wide, and many distressed Gamesters will be glad upon a losing hand, to be kind.  Wood 
Nay if Mr. Courtwell be gone, I will never think of his Sex more, but thus kind I'll be to Lovechange, to beg of you Mr. Easie, to resign your Wife to him, being much fit to be his Mistress.  Mr. Easy. 
I do renounce her, let her do what she will, I'll have a Mistress too, and will be young again, what say you Betty?  Betty. 
Sir, I never liked an old man much, especially having been so lately a Lady to a young Knight.  Sir Ralph. 
Sure Jo, I'll take thy counsel, 'twere simple to go home and be laughed at, as all the Country will do, if I return without a wife.  Io. 
Besides Sir, you will have your thousand pounds again.  Sir Ralph. 
I, I, I considered that too man! come Mrs. Betty if you think fit, I'll ' en take you instead of Mrs. Grace, ungrateful Grace.—  Grace. 
Indeed Sir Ralph, she'll make a good wife.  Sir Ralph. 
She's the worse for thy recommendations, but however she shall take the wall of her Mistress.  Mr. Easy. 
Well said Sir Ralph, I like your resolution, I will be young again, and gay, and I will like every Extravagance, here take Betty, and we'll send for the music; I will dance, and forget all sorrow, oh that my Wife, my kind, my handsome young Wife, were here now, I would give her to Lovechange, yes hearty, and wish 'em joy together, come, some music there, I will not ask you Amorous, what settlement my Niece has, for I believe she deserves none, they will be all alike, all turn— 'tis not matter what— nor you Nephew, I will not ask what Fortune your Wife has, for be she rich, or be she poor, she will prove an errand— Much good may't do you Sir, I am young again, and will live as lewdly as the best of you, come fall to dancing, be merry, very merry, whilst you may, for sorrow will come fast enough I'll warrant ye, come, come, to Frisking, to Frisking. They Dance.  Enter Lovechange and Mrs. Easy in Masquerade. Lov. 
By your leave Sir—  Mr. Easy. 
Gentlemen you're welcome, very welcome.  Mrs. Easy. 
I doubt you would recall that word, if you knew who we were.  Mr. Easy. 
You are mistaken Sir, I care not if you be Lovechange, and my quondam Wife, d'ye hear, you are still welcome.  Lov. 
Say you so Sir, then have at ye. discovers  Mr. Easie. 
So, I like this well, I am pleased, wondrous pleased, here Sir, instead of affronting you, I will present you, come Sir, never hang back, I know you well, here— live— and lie— and be hanged— together if you please, with all my heart d'ye hear? I am not angry, no the business is done, I am a Cuckold that's not my fault, but I will not be a Fool, and so, much good may it do you kindly.  Mrs. Easy. 
Well Sir, I thank you, 'tis no disgrace to be a Mistress as the World goes.  Lov. 
Faith Sir, in this gift, you have been so generous, and obliging, that I have nothing to return but my Wife, by my troth Sir, try her, your Nephew has found her brisk and active, she's a good soul, she made an excellent Wife for the time, perhaps she may repair by you, the loss she has sustained by me.  Easy. 
But while these gods Almighty, Guinneys' reign, shows a purse  
The needy Miss, though chaste, can scarce contain  
Religion, and her Hosts of Virtues, prove  
Too yielding, to resist such power of Love.  
Jove never reigned in Gold, but you found Laps,  
Without respect to after Thunderclaps:  
The lose Gallant grown poor, must yield, and then  
hay for old Wine, old Treasures, and old Men.    
FINIS.   

The Epilogue.  
WHat has our Poet done you look so big,  
Has he not treated you with brisk Intrigue?  
Some with dull Morals, would affront the Age,  
And make a Conventicle of the Stage.  
Should he, but treat you with such things as those be:  
Damn the sententious Fop— come— let's to Mosely.  
Would ye recall some stories of your own,  
What on this Tuft, what on that Bank was done,  
Our Play perhaps uncensured might have gone.  
You Rogue cries one, behold on yonder side,  
I joy to name it; I, and Phillis died:  
Another with fierce Indignation rap't,  
Cries, Damn her for a Whore there were I Clapped:  
Another year, whoever lives, and sees,  
I fear you'll rub the Rind off from the Trees.  
Yet for all this, nothing can relish well,  
Unless we huff the gods, and hector Hell:  
With Wit, and Women, you deal much at one,  
First you debauch, and then you cry 'em down.