THE FOLLY OF PRIEST-CRAFT.  
A Comedy.  
Simulata Sanctitas Duplex Iniquitas.  
SCENE, St. James', or the SAVOY.  
LONDON, Printed for Richard Baldwin, near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-Lane, MDCXC.   

The PROLOGUE.  

WHen first our Poet gave his Mind to write,  
He freely owns he had no Muse, but spite  
To see his Native Country men oppressed,  
By clumsy Priests that seemed to be in jest,  
Even then when Nature strove to do her best.  
Thence his just Indignation higher rose,  
Venting himself in this Satiric Prose,  
As might their Follies and their Crimes oppose.  
Yet his soft hand designs no mortal Wound,  
Nor would he touch on any part that's sound.  
The Innocent are from his Darts secure,  
And the Infected he designs to cure.  
Besides—  
He was ambitious to present to view,  
Something that might deserve the Name of New.  
Fopling he thought so long had trod the Stage,  
He seemed to have outlived Methusalem's Age.  
And though in various Dresses he appears,  
His various Dresses cannot hid his Years.  
His Charms grow old, and can delight no more  
The shining Sex, that he obliged before;  
The Bawd, the Punk, the Soldier, and the Cit.,  
The Man of Breeding, and the Man of Wit,  
With dull repeated Humours clog the Pit:  
The Bully, Cully, and the Country Squire;  
The English Vicar, and the Spanish Friar,  
Though he, they say, has lately quitted Station,  
And publicly has made a Recantation.  
All these, by turns, have on the Stage appeared,  
And thought it there no scandal to be jeered.  
None but the Plotting Priest did sneak away  
Behind the Scenes, and there securely lay,  
Till our bold Poet drew him into light,  
And here presents him naked to your sight.  
But some will say—  
Zounds, the dull Rogue has left us in the lurch,  
Promised a Play, and brought us to a Church,  
To see a Race of mumbling Baldpate Friars,  
And heard (what need not) Jesuits proved Liars:  
And 'stead of the gay Humours of the Town,  
Presents the Follies of the lazy Gown:  
These Sparks he tells, that if they will dispense,  
For these two Hours, with his noiseless Sense:  
Some more than some have Humour, and some Wit:  
This sure will do, expel but Priests the Pit.  
But if this won't, when he has done his best,  
He'll speak to Captain Tom to do the rest.    

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.  

MEN.  
Mr. Turnabout, A new Convert, in love with Leucasia.  
Lord Britain, A Romanist, and true Englishman.  
Young Subtleman, A Gentleman, that to raise his Fortune, gives the Father's hopes of his Conversion.  
Sir George Subtleman, Father.  
Cautious, an old Covetous Priest.  
Bigot, A Zealous Priest.  
Mackdonnel, an Irish blundering Priest.  
Politico, A contriving Intriguing Priest.  
Jonathan Simper, A Punk that serves Cautious in Man's .  
Four Priests and Three Casuists from St. Omers.  
Manual, Secretary to Politico.  
Four Footmen, Servants to Leucasia.  
Constable, Watch, Rabble, etc.   

WOMEN.  
Leucasia, A Lady of Virtue and Fortune, but a hater of the Priests.  
Betty her Maid.  
Mrs. Sergeant a Procuress.  
Mrs. Speedwell her Creature.  
Whores, etc.    

The Folly of Priest-Craft, A COMEDY.  


Actus Primus, Scena Prima.  Turnabout. Young Subtleman. Turn. 
FAith Jack I have had ill luck this Month or two.  Subt. 
Prithee, What's the matter?  Turn. 
Why I've parted very friendly with my Religion, and can get nothing for it.  Subt. 
Then there is just nothing for nothing. The Rogues you deal with are cunning, and know how to fit you to an hair: but I have had worse fortune, I have parted with my Money, and got nothing for it: Now there is Substance for nothing, which according to my Philosophy is very unnatural.  Turn. 
Well, I must find some other way of thriving; this changing a Man's Religion is a mere drug, 'tis grown too common.  Subt. 
You cannot find a better, if you take the right Way.  Turn. 
The right Way, Jack why no Man could take a better: First, I applied myself to a Priest, whose Interest I thought to be greatest at Court, and told him that I was a Gentleman of a good Estate, and once a zealous Protestant; that I had always led a strict and virtuous Life, but that now I could find no Satisfaction that way, and now I desired to be admitted a Member of their Church.  Subt. 
So, very good.  Turn. 
Then I frequented all public Masses; the private ones were never any part of my Religion: I confessed to him none but such Vices, as with other Men would pass for Virtues, and indeed greater Virtues than ever I was guilty of; I made him believe that I performed all Penances double, that I had discarded all my Friends and Kinsmen upon the account of Difference in Opinion, and amongst them a very dear Relation; that I desired to serve my Country in some public Employment Military or Civil, not for Gain, but Advancement of the Catholic Cause, insomuch that—  Subt. 
Insomuch that he thought thee to be a very zealous and conscientious Catholic.  Turn. 
Yes faith, Jack, as good as any in England.  Subt. 
Why that same is the very reason that he never sought to prefer thee: The Fathers know that those that are Catholics by Persuasion will do them Service without the visible Prospect of a Reward, and therefore they are never eager in preferring them to places of true Profit— but they know those that are led to them by Interest, they must continually feed with the same Bait that b●ought them on, lest they fly off and scare others from it.  Turn. 
Thinkest thou so, Boy!  Subt. 
Think so, Why? it is most certainly true— Canst thou imagine the Fathers are such ill Husbands as to procure a Reward for those that are such Fools as to serve their ends without it. If thou thinkest to get any thing considerable by their Intercession, you must let them plainly understand, that you are no puny whining Catholic, troubled with Scruples of Conscience, but Rogue enough to serve them in all things.  Turn. 
Well, so much may easily be done.  Subt. 
I know it may, and by these means thou wilt have a double Tie upon them; First, they will fear to lose thee, unless they supply sufficient Nutriment to all thy large Stock of Vices: And some of them I know are not scon satisfied. And in the second place, they will understand that thou art a fit Instrument to act a part in any pious Villainy; and if that will not make thee, nothing can. Then in the next place  Turn. 
Ay, Prithee, What's in the next place?  Subt. 
You must write a Book in their Defence.  Turn. 
What an unconscionable Dog art thou, thou knowest I can hardly bare the damned Fatigue to read one, and—  Subt. 
Phoo, Pox, you will write the better for that— There are several old Pieces wrote by Campian and others, thou mayst get a Scrivener to transcribe a dozen or two of Pages in the middle of the Book, invent a Title, and publish it in thine own Name, and thou shalt be as great a Champion as St. George on Horseback, and then—  Turn. 
What more Advice still?  Subt. 
Ay, Faith, and good Advice too. Thou must be sure to deal with the Fathers as some Gallants do with vicious Women that stand upon their Reputation; thou must pry into all their Secrets, and then they will faithfully serve thee, as the Indians do the Devil, not out of Love but Fear. Whenever they cast out a Devil by Compact with the pretended possessed Person, Do thou be one of the Witnesses, and take care to have an hand in the business. Whenever they make an Image speak, or a Relic cure one that never was sick; do thou be one that stands behind the Curtain, or that applies the Remedy, or subscribes to the truth of the Miracle. Whenever they devise a new way to destroy Heretics by the gentle methods of Fire and Sword; do thou be one of their Confederates, and promise to be a principal Actor in the Tragedy. If ever any of the Fathers do tempt or are tempted by a Woman, do—  Turn. 
Phew, say no more of that— I know enough of their Secrets that way.  Subt. 
'Tis well, Jack, if thou dost, for they are the most profitable Secrets of any. For when they understand that thou art Rogue enough to change sides, and discover all whenever it is for thy advantage, they must get thy Mouth stopped by Money or Preferment for this. In remote Countries they do not much value their Reputation; yet here where they are bound to their good Behaviour (which some of them like worse than to be bound to a Whipping-Post) they must dread them that know their Secrets, lest the Discovery should hinder their grand Projection.  Turn. 
Thou speakest good Sense, but still I am not satisfied that 'tis my best course; for Mr. Bigot, upon whom I chief rely, is a Priest that is truly zealous in his way. He is Master of a good Head, which would be capable of bearing Learning if it were not applied altogether to the Politics, which I believe are his only Study, so that now it looks like a good Field, that for want of Tillage is overrun with Briars and Thistles. He is naturally inclined to Honesty, and just in all things wherein his Religion is not concerned, but then he sticks at nothing. He studies nothing but the Advancement of the Catholic Cause. As for himself, though he has a sufficient Interest at Court, yet I believe him to be poor and needy: His Zeal is so hot, that it seems to have burned up his Eyes, and dried up his Brain to the quantity of a Nutmeg, so that I think the Man might have been learned, honest and wise, if his Religion had not made him a Dunce, a Knave, and a Fool.  Subt. 
But, my Chapman, Father Caution, is of a quite contrary Temper, he is resolved to be rich himself, though the Cause starve to death: He is very mistrustful of a Change, and will not be so much a Fool as to expect the total Conversion of this Nation, though Bigot does earnestly persuade him to it; nor does he care whether it be so or no any more than as it does promote his own private Interest. He makes just so much show of Religion as may serve to make him capable of now and then selling an uncertain Favour at Court to a Friend for certain Money: But whatever is beyond that, he looks on as superfluous. In fine, he is a covetous insatiable Rascal, endued with a large stock of Cunning and Hypocrisy, that is grown rich by bubbling Candidates for new Offices, and wants nothing but a leap beyond Sea to make him completely happy.  Turn. 
A very fine Character!  Subt. 
Besides, I'll tell thee another Secret. He is a libidinous Beast, and that Servant, Jonathan Simple, that attends upon him in Man's , is known to be a Woman.  Turn. 
Since thou knowest him so well, what a Devil made you deal with him!  Subt. 
I know that he mistrusts that his Reign is not long here, and therefore may sell good Pennyworths, and since I have Money by me I am willing to improve it to the best, till the old Man dies, who is a Father indulgent enough in every thing but his living thus long.  Turn. 
This damned Hypocrisy is the greatest of all Slaveries, I would never endure it but for the sake of the beautiful Leucasia, thy incomparable Kinswoman.  Subt. 
Leucasia is indeed a Lady of undoubted Wit and Virtue— One that ties not up herself to the usual Formalities of her Sex, but takes a freedom to herself in all virtuous Pleasures. But what a Devil makes thee resort to the Fathers to gain her, when thou knowest how mortally she does hate 'em, and employs the best of her Wit against them.  Turn. 
Why, Faith, I'll tell thee the only reason I found in my Addresses that she had no Aversion to my Person, but that she thought my Fortunes below her, as indeed they are, and therefore to raise them, I have taken this course, in which I am resolved to continue till I see the Issue.  Enter Bigot and Cautious talking. 
But here they both come, it is their usual hour, I don't care to see them, now they will expect I should be in another place.  Exeunt ambo. Bigot and Cautious advance upon the Stage. Big. 
Nay, but, Brother Cautious, that Excuse must not serve your turn: I would fain know what makes those Heretic Clergymen in black Gowns so crowd about your Lodging: Don't you know how that Tribe make it their business to maul us in their Pulpits, to squeeze us as it were to death in Printing-Presses, to disappoint us in Elections, and a thousand Tricks of the like nature— And yet I perceive six or seven of them do wait on you every Morning. I vow I must complain of you to our Superiors as of a suspicious Person.  Cau. 
Good Brother Bigot, be not so furious; those black Coats come for Preferment.  Big. 
Ay, and so we shall have all Vacancies filled up with Heretics before the Penal Laws be taken away, to make room for Catholics. I vow, Brother, you injure our Cause.  Cau. 
I vow, Brother, you injure your Brain by this intemperate and unnecessary Zeal. Cannot I get the Rogues turned out again for Simony when the time serves, and myself be a Witness against them? Besides, do you rightly consider the Worth and Dignity of their Money— I say again, Do you rightly consider the Worth and Dignity of Money?  Big. 
I must confess, Money is very proper to carry on the Cause, and I am forced to expend a great deal on those that will not undertake without it; for the truth is, I find very few, excepting the zealous Mr. Turnabout, of our new Converts that are willing to act without Money; upon whom I have expended great Sums, and I hope you put your Money to that same pious use.  Cau. 
Can you doubt that?—  
But in truth he may doubt it long enough before I spend my Money upon such improbable Projects.  Aside. Big. 
I can't doubt it in a true Catholic Priest, Why: we have more hopes now of subduing the Heretics than ever—  Cau. 
What, because of our good Fortune in the late Trial?  Big. 
Pshaw, Pshaw, that's a mere Fleabite, a Trick of Law. Would to God there were no such thing as Law in the Nation. I was always an Enemy to all Proceed by Law, they are always destructive to us; but we will have Commissions without Law, and against Law, and above Law, that shall maul the Rogues in spite of all their Law-tricks: But we have now such a number of new Converts in all Parts, and such brave Men!  Cau. 
I know not, Brother, how many, or how brave they be, but I'm sure my Trade is sensibly decayed of late, I have not now one half of the Custom I lately had, and those that do come, give not half the Money they lately did: For my part I cannot stay here to starve among Heretics.  Big. 
Fie, Brother Cautious, fie, do not turn thy back upon those Glories that are just now breaking from behind a Cloud, to dazzle the Eves and amaze the Understanding of the B … World.  the famed Irish Priest, is now arrived at Court with joyful Tidings, with the conversion of a numberless number of our beloved Countrymen, who spontaneously relinquishing their long imbibed Errors, have thrown themselves into the chaste embraces of our Mother-Church.  Cau. 
This Fellow would needs gull me with his fair words, but still I suspect the strength of our Cause.  Aside. 
Do you know that Mack-Donnal? Pray, what sort of Man is he?  Big. 
He is an Irish Priest of much Zeal, tho' not much Learning, yet he is much improved since he went to St. Omers. He can now read a great part of the Mass, by help of a F●scue, and a little cunning beforehand. He has been at all the great Towns in England, and is now returned with a List of the new Converts. He is at my Lodgings—  Cau. 
Seeing is believing, I never renounce the testimony of my Senses but in one thing: Pray, Brother, let your Servant step & fetch him.  Big. 
to Servant.  
Go and tell Father , that we desire his Company, and a view of the List.  Seru. 
I shall.  Exit Servant. Big. to Cau. 
But now I think on't, Brother, one of my Sons that was disinherited by his Father for turning Romanist, has borrowed all my Money; pray accommodate me with a little Gold, or the Cause may suffer if I want it.  Cau. 
Now the Fool has been gulled of his own Money, he would fain borrow mine; But I shall fail him.  Aside. 
Sure, Brother, you intent to affront me.  Big. 
Why so?  Cau. 
Why, do you think that I keep Money by me now the Cause is in this Distress? Fie, fie, I send all away beyond-Sea, I do in earnest, Aside and am as poor as a Church Mouse.  Big. 
Dost thou so Man? Embracing him very eagerly. O how could I hug thee for it thou best of Men! thou art the very Joy of my Heart, and I love thee better than if thou hadst given me a Million of Millions.  Re-enter Servant with , flourishing his Paper. Mack. 
Here is the Pauper by Shaint Pautrick, here it is; Ish had made go one thoshand Miles for thish Pauper, aund so fausht by Shaint Pautrick, that Is haud come shooner if Ish had not made stay by the way—  Big. 
Pray, Brother , give my Friend an Account of our prodigious Success in the Country.  Mack. 
reads,  
Well then— Firsht of aul in the Shitty of London.  Big. 
Sir, I say in Country.  Mack. 
Why, Is not aul the Country in London? Yesh by Shaint Pautrick, aund aul Ireland, aund aul Scotland, Ish do hope to she aul Faunsh, aund aul Italy, aund aul Spain there too— and then by Shaint Pautrick, London will be the finesht Country in the whole World.  Cau. 
But to pass by these Digressions, pray give us an account of the Progress you have made in new Converts without Addition.  Looking on his Paper. Mack. 
Firsht then, in the Shitty of Norwitch, there be four ferry proper Shentlemen dad do live in the great House upon the Hill—  Cau. 
Their Names.  Mack. 
Tom Cutter, Richard Kill-all, Robert Divewell, William Hector.  Cau. 
O I have read of them in some printed Papers, they are four notorious Rascals, that have kept constant Possession of the Jail there seven Years, as if it had been their own by right of Inheritance: They were all hanged last Assizes for Murder and other Felonies.  Mack. 
Yesh, by St. Pautrick, the Heretic Dogs did make hang upon their sweet Bodysh, Ish had no time a Reprieve for them; but by my Shoule Man, they did die as good Catholics as thou and Ish art.  Cau. 
That may be—  
But, Pray Brother, what Progress do they make in the Universities? Those are the Fountains that ought first to be sweetened.  Looking on his Paper. Mack. 
O! in the firsht plaush, in the University of Cambridg there is one of hish Majesties mosht grashous Offishers, by my Shoul and St. Pautrick, that do dispash mauny of the Heretics in the Year.  Big. 
His Name?  Mack. 
William Cuttrope— He dosh sherve his Majesties grashes Sheriff—  Cau. 
O, I know him, he is the Common Hangman, I remember I used to tremble at the sight of him when I was last in Jail upon Suspicion.  Big. 
Brother, I vow you make my Zeal rise against you, to treat a new Convert so rudely, as to call him plain common Hangman— This shows—  Cau. 
It shows that you have neither Knowledge or Discretion to reprehend me: What more honourable Name could I give him than that of an Hangman? and by how much the more common, so much the better. We may talk of Books and Conferences, and I know not what, but when all's done, there are thousands in this Nation that can be converted by nothing but Gibbets and Halters. They are at least our Journeymen, we cut out the Work which they finish.  Big. 
Brother, I beg your Pardon, all this is true, but you know immoderate Zeal may sometimes thrust a Man upon Indecencies.  Cau. 
Will you say there is the Hangman in the first place? and pray who is there in the second?  Looking on his Paper. Mack. 
Why, in the second, in the second, by St. Pautrick, my dear Joy, in the second plaush there is no body at aul.  Big. 
Well, one such is as good as many— But how many in the other places?  Mack. 
Then in a little Town hard by there be one thoushand.  Cau. 
What Catholics or Whores?  Mack. 
Both together, my dear Joy, the Catholics be the Whores, and the Whores be Catholics, aund both together do make one thousand— or one dozen, by St. Pautrick, I know not well whether (pores on the Paper)  Big. 
Well, is that all?  Mack. 
No Ish have one more— A Gentleman that do wear the long Robe at Reading, his Name is Henry Shimpleton.  Cau. 
I know him, he is a Fool, a Natural, kept by the Parish.  Mack. 
'Tis true— I myself did convert him by giving two Nickers and a Marble.  Big. 
Pray, Brother, speak not so contemptibly of Fools: I will assure you the Catholic Cause is very much beholden to Fools. It was invented by Fools, maintained by Fools, and carried on in great part by Fools, unto this very day. Was not St. Francis a Fool? St. Ignatius a Fool? and a thousand other Fools I could mention: Therefore, pray, Brother, speak not so contemptibly of Fools.  Cau. 
Why? I said so for that very reason.  Mack. 
Well, by St. Pautrick, Ish vil go and carry my Pauper to the great Man in plaish at Court, and beg Plaish for it. St. Pautrick bless you. Farewell.  Going out, but returns hastily. 
O, but stay, I had forgot to make Petishon for one thing, that Father would make pray to the King's Majesties Graush for shome Plaushes for the four Catholic Shentlemen that did live in the great Housh at Norwish.  Cau. 
Why, did not you say they were hanged?  Mack. 
O, by my Shoul, and St. Pautrick I had quite forgot dad, it is true, they b … made hang already, and can have no Pla●● at Court. Adieu.  Exit. Cau. 
Harkye, Brother, does not our Friend Mackdonnel talk a little like a Fool?  Big. 
O fie, no, 'tis mere Zeal and Transport— you know not the true force of Zeal, it will make a Fool, a Knave, or any thing.  Cau. 
That may be— But if it make me such a Fool as to part with my Money, I'll be hanged for it.  Aside. Big. 
Well, I am hastuing to the great Spanish Priest, Father Politico, about some public Business. He is the rarest Contriver in the World, he has ten thousand Plots in his Head, the least of which are sufficient to overturn a better settled Government than this. He has refined the Politics of all the Courts in Christendom for the use of the English Nation: And though he be a Foreigner by Birth, he is so conversant in the Manners of the English, you would swear he had been born here.  Cau. 
I grant Father Politico is a Man of a curious Frame and fine Contrivance; that he has seen most Foreign Courts, and holds Correspondence with 'em; but to speak plain, there are some things I do not like in him. He seems to be too great an Admirer of himself, which makes his Conversation naufeous to others by the continual Commendation of himself, and is prejudicial to his Plots, by robbing him of the Advice and the Corrections of his Friends. Besides, he is too bold in making use of Foreign Foreign Policies in their Courts, which for the most part, like Trees transplanted from far distant Soils, though the Fruits there were pleasant, yet here they are harsh and crabbed.  Big. 
I must confess his noble Friend, my Lord Britain, often tells him so, but I cannot perceive 'tis true— I know indeed some do censure him as too amorous for the Gravity of a Churchman; and I cannot deny but he is too lascivious, and that if he had not such a discreet a Procuress as Mrs. Sergeant, he might incur Scandal by his daily Conversation with Women. But still I must adore him as a great Prop of the Catholic Cause, and must make all the haste I can to see him imme … y.  Exit Bigot. Cau. 
And I must find out young Subtleman for some Private Business of my own, which is more to the purpose than the Public.  Exeunt different ways.  

SCENE II.  Turnabout pursued by Mrs. Counterfeit, and two or three Whores. First Whore. 
Come, Mr. Turnabout, don't you think we will be bilked so; it is Money we want, and Money we will have, or we'll detect your Debaucheries.  Mrs. Coun. 
Come, Mr. Turnabout, I'm acquainted with the very best of the Fathers, they come very often to my House, no Disparagement to 'em, and I shall soon make them acquainted what an Hypocrite you are.  Turn. 
Peace, you bawling Endeavours to stop their Mouths. They struggle with him. Bitch you, Peace.  Count. 
Nay, marry come up, Peace me no Peace: if I had been an Heretic you could not have used me worse than you do. I have want of money, and if you don't give it me, I shall publish to the World all your Pranks; I faith I shall spoil your new Saintship.  Turn. 
Do, you damned Whores, do your worst, the Fathers will not believe any Ill of me.  First Whore. 
No Ill of thee! First we will tell 'em of thy Bastard Child at Hogsden.  Turn. 
Ay, do, 'tis a brave witty Boy, they'll make him Captain of the Savoy School.  Second Where. 
Then we will tell 'em the Story of the naked Woman in the Strand.  Turn. 
It was a delicate light, the Fathers will wish they had been there themselves.  Third W●●●● 
〈◊〉 of the Purse you 〈…〉  Turn. 
That was to purchase Money for Absolution, the Fathers will thank me for it.  First Whore. 
Then we will tell 'em of three Whores you picked up th'other Night at the Chapel, and lay with them all Night at the Feathers.  Turn. 
Ay, do, you damned Whores, you had best tell that I lay with you there too, you had so, you Jades.  Second Whore. 
Marry come up indeed, lie with us there, 'tis the very best thing that every thou didst in thy Life, the only sign that I know of thy Conversion from the Pocky Twelve-penny Jades of the Town.  Turn. 
These Whores may spoil my Designs, but I must bare up briskly to them.  Aside. 
No Money, you Jades you, I say again no Mony.  Count. 
Why, then in plain terms Mr. Turnabout, my Maidens will instantly repair to Father Bigot, and inform him, that you bragged last Night in your Cups, that you were no Catholic, but only made the Fathers believe so out of Interest, that you fooled them all with an Opinion of your Sanctity; and that when your Turn was served for a Treat of a dozen Bottles of Wine, you would turn Heretic again.  Turn. 
This damned Jade has hit the Nail on the head, now I dread her.  Aside. 
Why, as for that— Hum— Why— Hum— Whilst Turn. is humming, Bigot walks cross the Stage, and spying Turn. makes up to him. All the Whores clap on their Masks.  Big. 
O! here I have found the zealous Mr. Turnabout preaching Confession to a Company of Heretical Ladies— O that good Man! I could cry for Joy— but I must speak to him.  Goes to Turn. and claps him on the Shoulder, who, seeing him, starts, and speaks hastily to the Whores. Turn. 
Go, you damned Jades, there's Money for you, be gone in silence.  Mrs. Count. 
Well, so much shall serve for this time.  Exeunt. 
Manent Turnabout, & Bigot.  Big. 
Pray, Son, What wast thou doing with those Ladies? What, preaching Conversion to them?  Turn. 
That is a Task fit for none but your Reverence, whose Eloquence might move the very Stones as well as Men— I was only a distributing a little Charity to some Catholic Gentlewomen of known Zeal and Virtue— Now must I return to the trade of whining Hypocrisy.  Aside. Big. 
I thought indeed I knew the glimpse of one of their Faces— well, thou art always doing good, and I have good News to tell thee—  Turn. 
What? Does the Holy Cause go on prosperously? Are the Heretics confounded?  Big. 
If not yet, they will be shortly— But as I was saying, an Express is arrived at Court, that a Place of great Trust and Value is fallen vacant in the West, and a certain great Statesman, having often heard me speaking of your great Zeal and Integrity, was pleased to propound you as a Person most fitted for, and deserving of it.  Turn. 
This is most ravishing News indeed. How much was Subtleman mistaken.  Aside. Big. 
But I seeing the impending Danger, immediately stepped in: My Lord, said I, (with submission to your Lordship's better Understanding) that you do not rightly apprehend what a kind of Man Mr. Turnabout is: Alas! said I, he is none of those selfish Worldlings that expect Places and Preferments for Reward, and under pretence of furthering the Catholic Interest, seek the Promotion of their own Ends— No, No;— your Lordship may find enough of such base Creatures to allure with Places. But, said I, as for Mr. Turnabout, his Thoughts are fixed upon things of a sublimer Nature: It would be the utmost degree of Savage Barbarity, to rob him of those precious Minutes which he employs in far more noble Exercises. Alas! said I, my Lord, Mr. Turnabout aims at no Honour, but that of being a Saint in the Roman Calendar. He knows no Arithmetic, but that of telling his Beads: He studies no Compliments, but those that are given to departed Saints in the Missal: He cares for no Employment, but that of advancing the Catholic Cause gratis— Now, my Lord, said I, What an inhuman thing would it be to thrust a Man of his Seraphic Temper, into so great a secular Encumbrance, where he must be loaded with fulsome Titles of Honour, where, instead of telling over his Beads, he must be counting great Sums of Money, and receive Visits from every Earl and Baron. And which is yet worst of all, where the Glory of his generosity of serving the Cause gratis will be eclipsed, by receiving a visible Reward. This is such a Cruelty, as ought not to be used towards so good and religious a Man—  Turn. 
A Pox take this long-winded Paraphrastical Blockhead, he has made Speech enough to ruin all my hopes. But I must forbear my railing.  Aside. 
And what then, Sir?  Big. 
Then, said I, my Lord, there is one Mr. Subtleman that is wavering between two Opinions; we had best procure it him, it may perhaps fix him on the right Side— And accordingly it was done this Morning.  Turn. 
What cursed Luck's this, I have overacted the part of an Hypocrite, and am now sensible of my Error. But I must persist till I can gain my End.  Aside. 
I must confess my Devotion is chief my— yet I could wish I had an opportunity to serve the Public in an higher Station.  Big. 
Yes, I know that, therefore, said I, my Lord, there are some Gentlemen that have undertaken to serve the Public Gratis, in an Honourable Employ, though with great Expense and Charges: Mr. Turnabout, said I, is the fittest Man in the World to make one of those. It is but expending a brace of thousand Pounds and you will gain immortal Honour.  Turn. 
A Pox take this damned Rogue, this is worse and worse, I know not what to say or do.  Aside. Big. 
Well, what do you say to this?  Turn. 
Lord, Sir, I am struck with admiration of your Goodness, and could not readily find an Answer.  Big. 
Well then, meet me at Father Politico's Lodgings at Two this Afternoon, and there you shall know farther, and hear there the 〈◊〉 Plots and Contrivance, and know our Secrets: In the mean time adieu.  Exit. Turn. 
I must tack about, and let the Fathers understand, that I am not that puny whining Fellow that they imagine; but how to do it on a sudden I can't tell, unless Fortune does savour— but I must try.  Exit. Lady Leucasia and Betty. Leu. 
And art thou sure that Turnabout has been such a Baby to be spirited away by these Priests, that rake up and down after Fools and Knaves, as if they were the only precious Commodity of the Nation.  Betty. 
I should think, Madam, if they thought so, they would do well to transport some of them to foreign Countries; but instead of that, they daily import great numbers of 'em— But I can assure your Ladyship, Mr. Turnabout has the repute of a very zealous Catholic. The Fathers all adore him, and he can't miss shortly of being a very great Man.  Leu. 
Then I pity the poor Wretch more than ever a Man that sells his Soul to the Devil in a fair and legal way, where Writings are drawn and sealed, some valuable Consideration given, and the Forfeiture of the Bond taken, when the Time is fully expired, does not act much more irrational than he, that for hopes of Preferment binds himself ever to act an indefinite number of ploughs' Villainies, according to the Directions of the Fathers, especially at a time when they have so much Work to do.  Betty. 
But, pray Madam, how comes your Ladyship to be so much concerned for him now? When he made his Addresses to you, you received him with all the Disdain imaginable.  Leu. 
I begin to love him, because I hate them, and am loath that they should be the better for my Leave. Tho there is little fear that any Society should be the better for him.  Betty. 
You blame him for his Conversion, and the World blames you, for they say his only Motive was to gain some Preferment, to render himself worthy of your Love.  Leu. 
Therefore I am bound in Honour to make him weary of his Profession till he renounce it, and be placed where he was at first.  Betty. 
But if you concern yourself so far, the World will conclude for certain, that you are in love with him.  Leu. 
The World's an Ass, or it would never be trampled and tamely rod by a Priest. I care not what the World thinks or does; I go presently to Father Politico's Lodgings, and there give such a Character of Mr. Turnabout, as shall make them drive him from their Society: And then the poor Wretch will be so humble, and look so simply—  Betty. 
Pray, Madam, consider what you do.  Leu. 
Pray, Hussy, consider what you say, and never give your Advice but when there is more need. Get my Lodgings here ready in the Savoy, and then shall you see how I will plague these Bald-pated Vermine; I'll make them for ever tremble at the very Name of Leucasia.  Betty. 
I'll do it, but I can perceive not End.  Leu. 
It is End enough to free a Man that has pretended to love me, from Slavery and Confinement. I am sure Turnabout has that antipathy to all Religion, that the very Shadow of it (as 'tis said of a certain Tree) is enough to kill the Viper. Whether I love or no, I pity him so far, as I do him that Service: For  
Of all the Men by God and Nature cursed, Surely the fawning Hypocrite is worst. To his compared, the Player's Life is ease; He always Acts— They only when they please  Exeunt.   


ACTUS II. SCENA I.  Mrs. Counterfeit, and Mrs. Speedwell. Speed. 
NAY but good Mrs. Sergeant tell me, Will not the Fathers suspect that such an old Sinner as I, am but a New Hypocrite.  Count. 
Hold thy peace, Child, never fear that. If Bigot's Zeal is too blind to see a Fault in a New Convert of his own making, do but give him the sole Honour of your Conversion, and you may reap the sole Profit to yourself.  Speed. 
Yes, yes, I will seem extremely averse to Popery, and then he will think the Honour of my Conversion will be the greater.  Count. 
Thou art an apt Wench, nothing will inflame him more: But be sure not to yield too soon.  Speed. 
Why, Mrs. Sergeant, what impertinence is this; when did you ever know me yield too soon?  Count. 
Nay prithee, Speedwell, be not Choleric, I think you did yield too soon when Mr. Subtleman took you napping with two Footmen, and withdrew his Maintenance upon it.  Speed. 
I grant you indeed that a Woman may yield too soon in solicitatious Amours, or the like; but when did you know any of them yield in Disputations, or Religious Discourses?— Pray show me one Precedent for that.  Count. 
I must confess I cannot; but, good Child, be not so hasty, If I can but bring thee into favour with Bigot and Politico, they will make Mr. Subtleman restore, if not increase thy Pension.  Speed. 
And I protest if it is done by your Means, I will serve you half a Year gratis.  Count. 
Then pull down thy Hood, and look as much dejected as if thou wert inclined to a melancholy Madness; they love to deal with mad People.  Speed. 
I warrant you.  Walks in a melancholy posture. Enter Bigot. Count. 
Here he comes, be very sad and demure— Mr. Bigot, you're welcome.  Big. 
Mrs. Counterfeit, your Servant. Pray what is the Business?  Count. 
Reverend Sir, this is the Gentlewoman to much disturbed in Mind; I hope you will administer some Comfort to her.  Big. 
Let me alone for that— Madam, [To Speedwell] Pray let me know the Reason of your disturbed Affections? and what is it makes you look so sad, like the Image of Death?  Speed. 
Bless me! do I look like an Image? all Images are Popish sure: I don't look as if I were popishly affected—  Big. 
I am sorry to hear you are so averse to your greatest good, it makes my Eyes [weeps] over flow with Water in compassion of you.  Speed. 
O'erflow with Water— Sure, Sir, you don't mean Holy-Water, if you do, I shall immediately fall into a swoon— I have a greater aversion to it than the Devil himself has— faugh— Spits.  Big. 
And why so? What provocation have you received that should make you thus bitter against your Mother-Church?  Speed. 
Heavens bless me! what mean you to talk to me of a Mother-Church? I know no Mother-Church, my Father was an Anabaptist, and my Mother never went to Church in her life— Then how should I have a Mother-Church?  Big. 
Your Discourse, Lady, is illogically incoherent. If I am thus interrupted, how is it possible to make any farther Procession?  Speed. 
Pray, Sir, forbear to make any further Popish Procession, they are wicked abominable pieces of Superstition: I hate a Procession—  Big. 
I wish I knew, Lady, how to make my Application to you, to throw of this burden of distraction from your Mind—  Speed. 
Alas, Sir, I feel no burden: I am all Light, there's Light within me, and Light without me; I fed no burden but in the Flesh—  Big. 
God forbidden, [To Mrs. Count] sure the Lady is not with Child.  Count. 
No fear of that, she is the chastest Virgin in the World; it is only her Fanatical way of talking. Pray, Lady, if you have any Doubts, expound them; if you have met with Crosses—  Speed. 
O miserable! what more Popery? Why should you think that I have met with Crosses? I abhor them, they are Popish, and I made my Coachman drive a Mile about, rather than go by Charing-Cross, only for its Popish Name.  Big. 
Bless me! what blind rage is this? the very Beasts are less savage, whom Nature has armed with Claws and Horns.  Speed. 
Ay, I grant you indeed, that the Beast in the Revelation has Claws, and Horns, and Heads, and Tails, and is a very Monster I dreamt of th'other Night; and it put me into such a fright— that I shall never forget it— Bless me, one of the Faces looked as like yours as e'er it could stare, only Horns grew out of the Forehead; and I suppose, Sir, you are not married.  Big. 
Men of my Orders are not so fleshly given as to marry— But, pray Lady, be more sedate, and collect the scattered Relics of your Reason.  Speed. 
Ay, there you grieve me again: I say, all Relics are Popish, and I had rather gather Cinders than collect Relics. I can bear no longer, I must leave you.  Going out. Big. 
Nay, Madam, you must not go away in this Discontent. Do but give me leave to speak, and I will be your Beadsman if—  Speed. 
O Heavens defend me! how my Ears are assaulted with a continual noise of Popery. You be my Beadsman; Heaven knows I hate Beads! they are all Popish: In fine, they are my aversion, I must be gone.  Going again. Big. 
Nay, good Lady—  Speed. 
I cannot stay— Oh, oh-Farewel. Ex.  Big. 
Bless me, Mrs. Sergeant, have you no more wit than to send for me to such a furious Beldame as this? She has in her the very quintescense of all Phanaticism.  Count. 
Is this all the thanks I have for consulting your Honour? To convert one that is well inclined, is like killing a dead Man; 'tis soon done, but there's no Reputation.—  Big. 
There I confess you are in the right— But I see not—  Count. 
Why? first you see she's a little mad—  Big. 
Ay, that's well.  Count. 
Then she is foolish—  Big. 
That gives me more hopes than the other. But how shall I meet with such another Opportunity?  Count. 
I will keep her in a dark Room till she recovers part of her Senses: Believe me, Mr. Bigot, if ever you would work upon a Woman, take her into a dark Room till she recovers her Senses! then you may draw forth your Use of Comfort and make close Application; and partly by insinuating Language, and partly by force of Reason, you may compel her to fall down vanquished before you—  Big. 
Be pleased, Mrs. Sergeant, to accept a few Guineas as an acknowledgement of— (offers Gold)  Count. 
I protest I will not receive them; or if I do I will lay them out again for the Encouragement of new Converts—  Big. 
Nay, than you shall take a few more, (offers more) I profess you shall take 'em, it is all I have; for if I had the Indies in my Pocket, I could freely give them to the— (thrusts 'em into her Pocket.)  Count. 
I protest you are too bountiful: But I will add six Grains more to them for the same use.  Big. 
Nay then, I will give thee a Bill for 20l. more, nay, I protest I will— And thou shalt receive 'em presently—  
(gives a Bill, pulling out many.  Count. 
I vow you press too much upon my good Nature, and make me comply merely but of Complaisance. But will you venture on her again?  Big. 
Ay, immediately, before her Affections cool.  Count. 
I'll go and prepare your way.  Exit. Enter Turnabout to Bigot, as he's going out. Big. 
Mr. Turnabout, O 've nicked the time! you shall go in and hear me convert this Fanatic— discontented Lady.  Turn. 
Sir, I thank you, but I do not love the sight of a Woman— They are dangerous things.  Big. 
Then thou shalt go with me to her in the dark Room—  Turn. 
The Temptation will be the greater— Imagination does provoke more than the real Object— you say she's handsome—  Big. 
To Admiration— but the most averse to our way in the World. She would not hearken to me.  Turn. 
Then you had best send a Layman to make the first Impression, and you may strike in to finish the Conquest—  Big. 
The truth is she is prejudiced to one of my Order, I think I had best send you—  Turn. 
O fie, by no means, I am Master of no Eloquence.  Big. 
Ay, but thou art Master of Honesty and Integrity, and that's better—  Turn. 
What a plaguy Rogue is this to scandalise me at this rate—  Aside. Big. 
Well, Son, What dost thou say to it? Wilt thou go and try thy Skill upon her?  Turn. 
Alas! Sir, all Skill is gotten by Experience, I have no experience in Women—  Big. 
Thou art the best of Men, and if possible better than myself— But be not thus bashful, thou shalt discourse with her in the dark, and there is no fear of blushing—  Turn. 
I had rather go into the Cave of a Lioness.  Big. 
Poor modest Gentleman; that thou shouldst thus be afraid of Women! We Priests go boldly to their Chambers, to their Closets, to their Beds, to all their Secrets, and matter nothing of it.  Turn. 
So, I have heard you do almost persuade me to Virtue.  Big. 
By all means go— she will sooner hearken to you—  Turn. 
I hope she will— I will give her good Counsel.  Big. 
Go then, and I'll return immediately— Success attend you—  Exit. Turn. 
Now will I be damned if this be not some She of the Town that pretends to Phanaticism just as I do to Virtue and Honesty— I love Leucasia, but the prospect of enjoying her is at so great distance, that I must bait upon this by the way. I will first bring her into the Light, and if she be handsome I shall wish myself condemned to Darkness again.  Exit. Re-enter with Speedwell. Turn. 
Nay, good Lady, you must not be angry if I do not suffer you to remain in Darkness—  Speed. 
I have Light within me—  Turn. 
Ay, gad, that thou hast, pretty Innocence, and Light without thee too—  Speed. 
Thou art a profane young Man, and dost mean something that's ill—  Turn. 
No, faith, I mean nothing but thy two pretty Eyes, those Fountains of Light, 'tis true they vomit Fire too much, and inflame a Man's Heart, that's their fault—  Speed. 
Thou art very lewd and obscene, I fear thou art fleshly given.  Turn. 
How she puts me in mind of it.  Aside. 
You guess right, and since you are all Spirit, and I am all Flesh, we had best make a Match, it will be like the Union of the Body and Soul, full of Life and Vigour.  Speed. 
A pretty Fellow this, my Mouth waters at him, but I must dissemble.  Aside. 
And dost thou think that I will be yoked with one of the Ungodly. How indecent a thing would it be to see a Saint and a Sinner in the same Bed.  Turn. 
I grant you, Madam, it is an undecent thing to be seen together, and therefore we will go into the dark Room where no body can see us. I hate Matrimony, it makes a Man to be gazed at.  Speed. 
I must confess, I know no place that forbids going into a dark Room; and therefore if that were all I can easily consent to it.  Enter Bigot standing behind listening. Big. 
Well, I will hear now how my new Convert behaves himself in his Post—  Turn. 
Why, sure Lady, you don't suspect my Honesty, upon Reputation I will be very civil; I hope, Lady, will you give me the favour of a Salute. (kisses her.)  Big. 
Good, very good, he has almost won her Heart already.  Speed. 
I don't read that kissing is forbidden; but I fear you have some farther Intention.  Turn. 
If you dare venture yourself with me, I shall convince you of your Error—  Big. to himself. 
That's too much, he ought to leave the finishing Work to me—  Speed. 
I have a Light within me, that shows me clear thou hast a mind to debauch me— and dost thou think I will defile the Bed of my late deceased Husband?—  Big. 
What's that?  Aside. Turn. 
There's no Bed there, nothing but a Couch and few Chairs, that have made guilty so often, that 'tis beyond our Power to make 'em worse.  Big. 
to himself.  
I protest my Son Turnabout is wanton.  Speed. 
I grant you there is no Command against defiling Couches and Chairs— I am almost persuaded to venture—  Turn. 
There is no venture in it; I will certainly give you Content.  Speed. 
Alas! how can you content me? I have had to do with Men of as great Parts and Abilities (though I say it myself) as any are in Europe, and none could ever content me yet.  Turn. 
Pshaw, Madam, they were Bunglers or Coxcombs, that think to content Women by perplexing their Minds; my Method is always to begin with the Body first— (Embracing her)  Speed. 
Out upon thee Villain! thou dost begin to be uncivil.  Turn. 
Faith, Lady, I am very uncivil, to talk so much and perform so little: Come, let us throw by these Scruples, and retire into a more convenient place; Virtue, you know, fears nothing.  Speed. 
Do thy worst, I fear not thee nor thine.  Exeunt. Big. Aside, 
I set him to convert her, and he's gone to debauch her, I'll rout 'em.  Enter Speedwell in Confusion, Turnabout pushing her. Turn. 
For Heaven's sake make haste down Stairs before Bigot sees you! A Priest is like a Dog in a Manger, when he can't feast upon a new Convert himself he will suffer none else. (she runs away in haste.)  Enter Bigot in a Fury. Big. 
Mr. Turnabout, I wonder you are not ashamed to be taken in such obscene undecent Posture with a Woman!  Turn. 
Heavens defend my Innocence! Was ever Man so mistaken? If a Woman fall into a Swoon, may I not take her up? if her Breasts beat high with Passion, may not I innocently lay my hands upon them to keep 'em down? If she is overwhelmed with Sorrow, may not I give her two or three reviving Kisses, but you must presently suspect me of Obscenity?  Big. 
Ay, Sir, but I overheard your Discourse before that.  Turn. 
What, I warrant, you are zealous because I endeavoured to convert her in an allegorical way, making use of familiar Figures, that look just like Obscenity. Ah! Ah! that's pretty.  Big. 
Nay, Son, if that's all I am contented.  
But pray, Son, what Success had you?  Turn. 
Why, I had almost persuaded her, but you interrupted me—  Big. 
O! thou art the very best of Men— But how could you gain so easy a Conquest?  Turn. 
O, I wrought upon her Affections!  Big. 
'Tis a thousand pities that I interrupted you— But I'll give you a fit Opportunity.—  Turn. 
Ay, pray do, and let it be more private.  Big. 
As private as you please— I'll ne'er disturb you.  Turn. 
Why, then you shall see how soon I'll do her business.  Big. 
I don't question it; but be sure to do it effectually.  Turn. 
Ay, and perhaps she and I may get two or three.  Big. 
And so you two may increase and multiply to some purpose—  Turn. 
Nay, I'm resolved to mind the work of Propagation, and if the fault is not in her, I don't doubt but I shall answer your Expectation.  Big. 
But, good Mr. Turnabout, let me come in for some share of the Honour.  Turn. 
Sir, I shall quit all Pretensions to the Honour of this Enterprise, and leave it wholly to you: All I propose to myself is the Pleasure and Satisfaction of doing good to a distressed Lady.  Big. 
Nay, it is certainly a very delightful Work, I wish we could both join at the same time—  Turn. 
That's impossible, she would be hard enough for one at a time, but two together will breed Confusion.  Big. 
Then, prithee, prepare the way for me as soon as may be.  Turn. 
With all my Heart.  Exeunt several ways. Scene] Politico's Lodgings, who is discovered walking in his Nightgown. Pol. 
How few, but pleasant are the Minutes that I snatch from public business of the State; 'tis my own, yet scarce can call them so: But now I am engaged I must proceed. The Land's in sight I need not fear the Sea. Here— where's this Manual— [knocks.  Enter Manual. Man. 
Your Pleasure, Sir.  Pol. 
Bring hither the Intelligence you received by the last Post.  Man. 
I shall.  Exit Manual. Pol. 
These Heretics are odd Tools to build up the Catholic Church withal; and I believe that I am the first that ever found out the way to make 'em useful in that Building without hewing them to pieces: If the Spies I employ in the Country give me an exact Character of every particular Man, I shall find Work suitable to their various Genius's, and make them all serve our Ends, and yet they shall never know it, which is Delicacy in Policy, which is purely my own, and such as I presume none could ever equal.  Enter Manual with Papers and Pencils. Man. 
Here they are, Sir.  Pol. 
Read the Characters of such Persons as may be thought fit to serve their Country in the War.  Man. 
reads.  
The first is Mr. Peaceable; he is rich and so great a Dissenter, that he searce ever saw the inside of a Church in his Life: he is of a calm Temper, provokes n●ne, nor is to be provoked by any; but holds a fair Correspondence with Men of all Persuasions: He is much beloved, and has no small Interest in the Country.  Pol. 
Dash out his Name: A peaceable Dissenter can do us no Service. Who's next?  Man. 
reads.  
The next is Mr. Greedy, by Trade a Scrivener, a Man of no mean Sense and Abilities; one that professes great Love and Affection to the Established Church, which he is able to defend with the best of Arguments: He is an acute Dissenter against Popery, indifferent and covetous to the highest degree of Rapaciousness on one hand, and Sordility on the other.  Pol. 
What, didst say covertous?  Man. 
reads again.  
To the highest, etc.  Pol. 
Then mark him down; that one thing makes Recompense for the rest of his ill Characters— We shall find some Bait to draw a covetous Man to our side.  Man. 
reads.  
The third is Mr. Zealous, of the Congregational Way, a Man of unquestioned Parts and Subtilty: He is reckoned amongst the most eminently gifted Brethren, and not without cause; he is much adored for his Zeal and pathotick Exclamations against Popery: But those that pretend to know him better, do say, that are most he is but an Atheist, and his whole Religion is Hypocrisy, and his most visible Patrimony is the voluntary Contribution of the Women.  Pol. 
I like that Hypocrisy well enough, it shows that he is able to manage an Intrigue, mark him down, I shall shape him out a way to serve us.  Man. 
reads.  
Then there's Mr. Whymer, by Trade a Weaver; but not being able to live on that, he is turned Preacher— He is a Fellow of a bread Face, and no Brains, the want of which is supplied by a large stock of Impudence, which enables him to rail against Popery in Billingsgate Language, without two grains of Sense or Reason— He gets a good quantity of Money in the Year, and preaches in a little Shed at the end of his House.  Pol. 
Then mark him down, and send an hundred Pounds to make his Shed bigger: There are more converted to us by hearing bad Sermons against Popery, than by hearing good ones for it. Who's next?  Man. 
reads on.  
Mr. Slumber, a Romanist by Education; he is accounted a Man of a good Life and Conversation, but not much inclined to Vigour and Activity; He is moderately rich, and well beloved by all Parties.  Pol. 
Dash out's Name, he can do us no good, unless it be in some inferior Station, for the Encouragement of others.  Man. 
reads.  
The next is one Ranter of those peaceable People called Quakers— He—  Pol. 
If he be of that Persuasion you need give no further Character, for we are satisfied in them— the next.  Man. 
reads.  
Mr. Firebrand, a Fifth Monarchy Man, one of an implacable Temper, that in the late Times was very much prosecuted. He is esteemed very rich, but the most violent revengful ill-tempered Man in the whole Country.  Pol. 
A most excellent Person this, and the first in the whole World to serve us—  
Is there any more of the same Character?  Man. 
looks,  
Yes, five or six.  Pol. 
If there were five or six thousand we could find Work for them all: Mark down their Names.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
Sir, here's my Lord Britain would know if it be consistent with your Reverence's Affairs to admit a Visit.  Pol. 
Desire his Lordship to entertain himself a small time in the Drawing-Room, till I have given some Instructions to some young Gentlemen lately come from St. Omers, how to behave themselves in their Mission—  Ser. 
I shall, Sir, (And thus the Lord must wait upon the Priest)—  Exit. Pol. 
Go Manual, bring in the St. Omers Men—  Man. 
Yes, Sir.  Exit Man. Pol. 
I know this Lord Britain comes only to tell me that I take too violent Measures, and nothing but the Event can convince him of his Error— I wonder so good a Catholic as he can be so stupid—  Enter Man. with four Priests bowing to Pol. Pol. 
Gentlemen, I am glad to see your Zeal has brought you hither to the Conversion of so stubborn and headstrong a Nation— But because Zeal without Knowledge may do hurt, I desire you to take some few Instructions from me, and to commit them to Memory and Books— For I can assure you they are such as are not very common.  All. 
With Gladness, Sir.  Pol. 
A Table here and Tables and Stools are brought, they all sit round and draw out their Pocket-Bocks. Stools: Well Gentlemen, the first thing to be considered, is the End you were sent for, and that is to convert so many of this Nation, as shall be able, with some Advantages I will not name on the other side, to reduce the rest by force— Now, according to the strictest Political Observations, I can make the thirtieth part of the Nation— May do that work with difficulty, a twentieth without any opposition, and I think that a Notion in Politics not unworthy your Observation.  All. 
'Tis excellent. they writ  Pol. 
Now you may expect that I should inquire into your Learning, and the Progress you have made therein in Foreign Universities; but as for Learning I do not much care whether you have it or not; they that have it may do not hurt, provided they make no use of it; but those that have it not are best of all.  All. 
That's well, very well. they writ  Pol. 
For look you, gentlemans, Learning can at best serve but to correct the great Learning can at best serve but to correct the great Headpieces of this Nation, the inferior sort are never won by that: Now we want not the Head but the Hands of the Nation for the finishing our work— for need we care for Heads provided we have Hands enough to dash their Brains out.  All. 
A good Observation. they writ  Pol. 
Besides, to speak the plain truth, the Heretics are very much better versed in Books than ourselves; and I think him an Ass of a Politician, that will challenge an Adversary at his own Weapons.  All. 
'Tis very true, very true. they writ  Pol. 
When you come to convert an ignarant Person, whose Minister or other Friends are learned, then make use of the most impertinent of all your Arguments: A number of which you may transporse from our cashiered Laureate, which presently he will propound to his Parish-Priest, and he disdaining to answer them by reason of their Impertinence, his Silence will be imputed to Inability, and that Inability will be thought to proceed from the badness of his Cause, and so your new Convert will be more confirmed than ever.  All. 
An Excellent contrivance this. they writ.  Pol. 
Avoid as much as may be all Disputes and Conferences, unless it be with one of these three Provisoes. 1. That your Disputes be with those that are most eminent of the contrary Party; for whatsoever the Success is it, will startle of their Leader, thus boldly attacked. 2. Never enter into Dispute but when you are sure that the Person for whose sake you appoint the Conference will declare in favour of your side: for he that carries away the Prize right or wrong, will always be thought to obtain the Victory. And, 3. Above all things, have a care that you tie not up yourselves to the strict Rules of Sense and Reason; for that hinders multiplicity of words, and is extremely prejudidicial to our Cause— observe these three Provisoes, and then dispute as often as you please—  All. 
We shall carefully observe 'em.  they writ. Pol. 
There are other Directions how to work upon the various Tempers of Men, but those I have reduced to few Heads, and committed to writing in this Paper, of which Manual shall give you Copies—  giveth the Paper 
Disperse yourselves into various Parts of the Country, and may Prudence, Success, and the Blessing of Heaven attend you always.  All. 
We thank your Reverence, and shall carefully observe your Order.  Exeunt four Priests and Manual. Enter Lord Britain. Ld. Br. 
Reverend Sir, I could stay no longer from your Reverence; I fear you have put the Nation into such a flame, that all the holy Water in the World will not be able to quench it: Your violent Proceed against the Heretical Clergy has created a general Discontent— Heaven knows how it may end!  Pol. 
I wonder your Lordship can think that any Proceed against a few obstinate Black-coats should create any disturbance amongst either the Gentry or Commons of this Land! Did your Lordship ever perceive that the Gentry were ever better pleased with a Play, than when the poor Parson was jeered? or the Clowns ever more rejoice, than when the Vicar was ruined? Alas! my Lord, I contrived this violent Persecution of the Black-coats for the general Satisfaction of the whole Kingdom.  Ld. Brit. 
I must confess I hate them as much for their Religion, as the Farmers do for taking their Tithes: But yet I have so much of Generosity, as to think it hard that Men of Learning should be forced to beg or starve.  Pol. 
Good, my Lord, take no care for that, I have abundance of Charity for the Villains, though they don't deserve it, and have care of them. Some of them have good Palates and love their Bellies: We will send for Fr. Men to instruct them in the Art of Cookery, and then they may keep from starving, by licking their Fingers. Some of them have good Voices and are very musical, they shall be licenced to sing Ballads, or cry Faggots, which may be a good Trade if burning of Heretics come again in fashion. Others have a right habit of cringing, flattering, fawning, bowing, lying for Court-Preferment, and those will be sure to live, provided you done't cut out their Tongues, or thrust a Stake into their backsides to hinder their Courtesy. Others (as a punning Friend of mine was pleased to phrase it) in all Changes of Government have been good Trimmers, and those we will put out to Barbers. And thus your Lordship may see that I am very charitably given.  Ld. Br. 
But then the Fathers must have a care how they go to their Shops for fear they cut their Throats.  Pol. 
Phoe— no— they have so tamed themselves by their Passiveness, that there is now no danger in them.  Ld. Br. 
I grant there is a general Inclination in all Heretics to insult over their Clergy; but this seems to be grounded rather on an uncertain Humour than solid Reason; and who knows but that their Sufferings may reconcile them to their Love.  Pol. 
No, 'tis impossible— And herein I think I have outdone the finest Policies of all the Courts in Europe; for by this I do our own business, and gratify all sorts of People in the Nation.  Ld. Br. 
But will not this make the People jealous of their legal Rights and Privileges— And if they have been so furious in the Vindication of them, when the Danger has been only imaginary, What will they do when the Danger is real?  Pol. 
Less than if the Danger were only imaginary; for that which is imaginary is infinite, according to the various rovings of Fancy; that which is real has Bounds, and such Bounds as are soon comprehended by common Sense. Besides, I wonder you will talk of the old antiquated Notions of Legal Rights and Privileges; they are only the Concessions of foolish or weak Kings, which the wise and strong may resume at pleasure—  Ld. Br. 
I am altogether of another Opinion— Sir, I am an Englishman born, and should be loath to see the Constitution ruined, which I think to be the best in the World.  Pol. 
Pshaw, Pshaw, your Lordship has not seen the Policies of Foreign Courts, as I have done, and therefore I the less wonder at you.  Ld. Br. 
It is enough for me that I know the Excellency of our own, I only called in to tell you my Apprehensions, you may use them as you please. Farewell.  Exit Lord Britain. As Pol. is going out, enter to him Servant. Ser. 
Sir, here is a Lady masked below that would needs speak with you.  Pol. 
A Lady! 'tis unusual— but conduct her up— there may be something in it extraordinary.  Ser. 
Immediately.  Pol. 
I wonder who this Woman should be— sure she is not sent by Mrs. Counterfeit without my order.  Enter Leucasia. Leu. 
Reverend Sir, you may justly wonder that a Woman—  Pol. 
Good Lady, no Apologies, they are superfluous, as a Preface or promising Title-Page to a good Poem. Nature has done enough to make whatever you say to be graceful; you disparage her Workmanship by adding more— [By Heaven a gallant Woman!  Aside. Leu. 
But you may wonder that a Woman—  Pol. 
I wonder at a Woman! they may, can, or aught to do all things; had I sufficient Authority, I would decree them a Dispensing Power over all Laws and Customs introduced by Tyranny and Arbitrary Power— Wherefore, pray Madam, let me know your business, that you may know my readiness to serve you.  Leu. 
Notwithstanding your readiness to forgive an Absurdity, I should blush at it, but that I am conscious that my only design of appearing here, is to do you Service— which if I can accomplish—  Pol. 
You have accomplished it already, Madam, your Presence brings its Reward with it— Pray, Lady, let me learn your business? [A charming Creature by my Priesthood!  Aside. Leu. 
Then, Sir, I thought myself obliged to let you understand, that whereas you have received lately one Mr. Turnabout (as some say) into the very Merits of your Order—  Pol. 
There is indeed such a Person— We who engage ourselves so much in public Business, cannot know every particular Man that is converted, but I heard my Brother Bigot commend him for a very seraphical Person.  Leu. 
Why that's my only business to undeceive you. It grieved me to the very Heart to see Men of your Parts and Learning, and that have Policy in your Profession, and pretend to have studied the Arts of all the Courts in Europe; you that have undertaken to root out Heresy, subvert Kingdoms, and inflame the World; you that pretend to baffle Usurers of their Money, English Men out of their Privileges, and all Mankind out of their Senses; you that have so often out-witted the Devil, and as some say, out-vy'd him too, making him subscribe to Catholic Verities; you that pretend by your Exorcisms to bring an Ejectment against Beelzebub, and cast him out of Possession, though it be nine Points of the Law: I say, to see you imposed upon by such a Person as Turnabout, a Man of desperate Fortunes, and more desperate Principles; one that was so well known, that he could hardly be trusted for a twelve-penny Ordinary, or impose upon the rawest Squire that ever came to Town▪ tho, the first time after the Death of his Father, I say again, to see you hugging him in your Bosom for a converted Saint, it seemed to me as preposterous as to see the Bear making Love to the Gentlewoman with the Bears-face, or the Woman in Shakespeare, kissing the Fellow with the Asses-head— This forced me by the Principles of common Humanity to pity you extremely, and I am now come, like a true Romantic Lady, to free you from the Enchantment of your Error—  Pol. 
Come, Lady, I perceive you love Mr. Turnabout, and that he has unworthily forsaken you, for nothing but Love and Revenge could furnish you Matter to so much Railing, and nothing but so much Wit as yours could make such Railing pleasant— Come, Lady, confess, I know it is Revenge—  Leu. 
I vow, Sir, the Nation reports you to be wiser than Solomon, but herein you are as much mistaken, as if you had been the elder Brother of the three wise Men of Goatham— If I had studied Revenge I should have rather wished his continuance in your Service. It would exceed the Revenge of the famed Italians.  Pol. 
What is it Lady you would have us do with him? ['Tis a curious Wench, but her Raillery is too sharp.  Aside. Leu. 
Why, Sir, for your own good I would propound two ways. 1. Either Excommunicate him publicly by Bell, Book and Candle. Or, 2. Else tell him plainly that he must expect nothing from you, and then he will of his own accord forsake you, and your Society will be eased of that help of Scandal; for I can assure you he is bloody and revengeful; a Man that will do any thing for his Interest, and nothing against it; and truly I do think it better that he should herd amongst Heretics, than remain in the number of your choice new Converts, that are picked out of the rest of the Nation, just as rotten Plums are culled from those that are found in the Basket—  Pol. 
This would be too sharp if it were not sweetened by her Wit and Beauty.  Aside. Leu. 
Besides, if you retain him longer, you will incur an inevitable danger of having a greater Proficient in the peculiar Arts of your Order than yourselves, which is a Disgrace hitherto unknown to it—  Pol. 
I am well satisfied, Madam, that Mr. Turnabout was once yours, and that you are angry with us for receiving stolen Goods, and perhaps you set a small value upon him for that very reason, because you would have him return so much the sooner and cheaper back again— But as for his Crimes and Blemishes when an Heretic, they are to be looked upon as the Genuine Fruits of a false Persuasion. But I presume you have nothing to object against him, since he left you and came to us. [An excellent Woman this, and of a quick and facetious Invention.  Aside. Leu. 
Alas, Sir, you are so much mistaken, that I pity you for nursing such a Viper, that stings you most since you have been kindest to him— There is ne'er a Night that he gets six Bottles into his Belly (and there are few Nights he misses 'em) but he draws your Picture, and makes it as public as that of the seven Bishops: First, says he, as to the Prudence of your Choice, That you are like a Company of greasy Scullions, that first put the Nation into a Ferment, and then take off all the Scum to be kept for your own proper Use and Advantage. As for your Invention, he says, you contrive more improbable Plots in the State than ever Poet did on the Stage: And that, like blind Moles, you undermine a stately Building that will fall upon your own Heads, and crush you to Atoms— And as for your Honesty, he says, that if he were sure to be partaker of your evil Demerits, as you tell him he is of your good ones, he would have the Rope put about his Neck, the Psalm set, and be fairly turned off to prevent farther Torments— This and a great deal more he says of you in all Companies; for which I am the rather sorry, because I am very well assured 'tis true— But having acted the part of a Friend, I had no more to add, but that I am your humble Servant. Farewell.  As she's going out he stops her. Pol. 
But stay, good Lady, after all these Affronts, which I look upon as a little innocent Raillery, I hope you'll let us taste a little innocent Pleasure.  Offers to kiss her, she thrusts him by. Leu. 
Nay, good Sir, hold there— If your Gravity is inclined to wax rampant, I will send Mrs. Sergeant and her twenty seven Virgins to cool you. In the mean time adieu.  Struggling to get from him, but cannot. Enter Turnabout and Bigot. Pol. 
O, here comes Mr. Turnabout and Mr. Bigot at the expected time.  
Brother Bigot, I must desire you to walk into the Closet with me, I have something private to communicate— This Lady will entertain Mr. Turnabout, she knows him.  Exit. Turn. 
What, my dear Leucasia here, and alone too, with a Priest! sure it is not she.  Leu. 
Why sure, Sir, I am not so much changed as you are, you may know me, for methinks I know you better than ever.  Turn. 
Nay, good Madam, though I have loved you to the highest extremity of Passion, do not twit me in the Teeth with changing; for certainly never any underwent a greater Change than yourself. To see the virtuous modest Leucasia taken alone in a Priest's Chamber! I vow methinks 'tis pretty.  Leu. 
And to see the Whoring, Drinking, Roaring, Hectoring Mr. Turnabout herded in a Company of baldpate Friars, mumbling over his Prayers as Witches do their Charms, and playing with his Beads as Boys do with Nuts on a String, I think is at least as odd and pretty a sight as the other.  Turn. 
Nay, faith, Madam, never blush, I am glad of it; for whilst your Honour was untainted, your Pride was so great, that Mr. Turnabout was rejected as a wicked profane Person; and a Man forsooth of Pleasure, but now I hope we may treat upon more equal terms.  Leu. 
Why sure, you that are so famed for a new Convert, cannot think the Conversation of a Priest to be scandalous.  Turn. 
Phoo— Pox, I know them too well to trust them with Money, a Secret, or with a Woman: But the truth is, I dare not tell them so to their Faces; but from such a Friend as my dear Leucasia I can conceal nothing.  Leu. 
Tho your Rudeness in suspecting my Virtue, and affronting me to my Face, might challenge another kind of Return; yet since you are open to me, I will be as open to you, and tell you plainly that I came hither out of mere Love and Compassion to you.  Turn. 
Why I always told you that you would come to that at last, whilst I made my Addresses to you in the Country, and you know my Fortunes were a little impaired, who more slighted than Mr. Turnabout? But now you see me coming to Preferment— ready to ride in my Coach and six— and be one of the great Managers of the Nation— Now you are a little tempted with the promising prospect.  Leu. 
Nay, hold a little, you do not understand the Nature of my Love— I as much contemn your old Threadbare Fortunes as I do your new gaudy Religion. They are both in Extremes that are most odious to me: But I was moved with Pity and Compassion to see so brisk and airy a Gentleman bound over to the continual Drudgery of a whining Hypocrisy, and came hither on purpose to purchase your Pardon.  Turn. 
Nay, if that be all, I am satisfied. But pray, good Madam, what is it you have done?  Leu. 
Why, I have acquainted Father Politico with your true Character, and that you know is bad enough— I have made him sensible, that you came to their Party only for your own Ends, and then whensoever it was, for your own Advantage you would forsake them— I have quite spoiled the Character of your new Saintship, and expect to see thee turned out of the Society and thy newfound Friends, and look as dejected as a discarded Officer, that has neither Pay or Arms—  Turn. 
And are you sure you have done all this effectually?  Leu. 
As effectually as words can do it.  Turn. 
Ha! ha'! ha'! Then thou art the most obliging Creature in the World: I fancy there's some near relation between thy Genius and mine, thou art so ready to do me a Kindness when thou thinkest least of it: I have been studying these two hours to do that for myself which thou hast done for me, and could invent no way so good as this: I was just going to leave my Hopes unfinished, and turn Protestant, but now I will not take a Million for them. Now the Fathers understand all my good Qualities, I shall shortly ride in my Coach and Six— with a very great Equipage, and then I shall not fail in gratitude to make you most frequent Visits, in hopes of a kinder reception.  Leu. 
If I have done you any kindness of this nature, it is against my will. When your Coach and Six are ready, I shall expect your Visits; till then adieu.  Turn. 
Nay, Madam, I must wait on you to your Coach.  Leu. 
You may.  
This happens ill; but  
Fortune sometimes the best Designs may cross: But Woman's Wit is never at a loss.  Exeunt. 
Politico and Bigot.  Big. 
But is it possible Mr. Turnabout should be such a kind of Man!  Pol. 
I don't think all the Lady said of him was true, but the greatest part is likely.  Big. 
Then will I presently go to him and tell him how much he is a Rogue and a Rascal.  Pol. 
Nay, hold Brother, you run too fast, and leave behind you all the true Rules of Policy. It is true indeed, the Lady did throw upon him (as I may say) a whole Dunghill of Reproaches; but (as the Critics report of Virgil and Ennius) out of that Dunghill I have extracted a great deal of real Gold, and spy a greater Treasure than you imagine: She reports him Bloody, Revengeful; always true to his Interest, never true to his Promises; why these are the Men we do most want. You know, in process of time, we may stand in need of having a great Man removed, by Sword, Poison, or an Evidence to destroy a turbulent Heretic. And who more proper than Mr. Turnabout? who has Wit as well as Resolution, in which most of the common Ruffians are deficient. Besides, you have discovered to him many of our Secrets, and therefore you must treat him with all the kindness imaginable, and oblige him as soon as we can.  Big. 
I must confess I have told him of some of the violent Courses we did intent to take— But if I ever tell him any more—  Pol. 
Your Zeal blinds your Eyes, and makes you to act imprudently— If you have discovered some Secrets, you may with the same, nay greater safety, discover all— for the more you discover, the more you oblige to silence— We must prefer Turnabout as soon as possible— But, pray Brother, have a care how your Zeal makes you mistake Men again.  To them Cautious, Turnabout, Subtleman and Simper. Cau. 
Mr. Subtleman, I am glad your Business is done. This is the Gentleman to whom you are most obliged. [Shows him to Politico.  Subt. 
The greatness of the Benefit, and the quickness of the Dispatch, do equally amaze me: I fear you have thrust me into an inevitable necessity of being ungrateful.  Pol. 
The Place you had conferred on you this Morning, has been valued at 4000 l. you have it gratis; but remember this, that much is expected from you.  Subt. 
Not more than I am ready to perform, when occasion offers.  Pol. 
Mr. Turnabout, I and my Brother Bigot would gladly speak with you a little more in private.  Turn. 
Most gladly, Sir. [They retire to the corner of the Stage, whilst Cautious and Simper come up to Subtleman.  Cau. 
You see, Mr. Subtleman, how freely this Benefit is conferred upon you, without Cost or Charges. I vow, some of our Coat are so covetous, they would expect two or three 1000 Guineas from you: But alas, Covetousness, next to a Protestant Successor, is to me the most odious thing in the World. One thousand would be as acceptable to me as an hundred thousand; for what, alas, is Money?  Subt. 
I do verily believe it will, for (as you well know) some of your Way are so extremely covetous, they are a disgrace to their Cloth; which you wisely avoid, by taking nothing for kindnesses of this Nature. You do extremely well, I can never sufficiently commend you for it.  Cau. 
[Now if I have not a great care, I shall be baffled out of Money for the sake of a little dissimulation.  Aside. 
Sir, you speak well, I hate Covetousness, as you may well see by my demanding only 1000 l. for that which is worth 4000 l. and who would make two words of so small a Sum?  Subt. 
'Ounds, a 1000 l. a small Sum for a Man that has a Father living, and a dozen costly Vices to maintain at his own proper Costs and Charges!  Cau. 
Then I perceive, Mr. Subtleman, that after all you intent to wrong me; and you build upon this false Foundation, that your Business is done, and cannot be revoked. Now, though I don't value the Money, yet I hate Wrong and Injustice; and therefore you shall find, the same Power that set you up, can throw you down: and because you are a Man of Expedition, I may be instrumental in procuring you the happiness of saluting and taking leave of your Office the same day—  Subt. 
O my honest Father Cautious, will deal deal plainly with you, and I are both alike in one Quality: We love to get and save all we can. Now whereas you demand 1000ls. for Service done for me: I do answer, That I am well assured, that thou didst never speak one word for me. My whole Business was done by my Lord Wiseman and Father Politico, who had heard of my Deserts. And where thou dost threaten me to make me quit my New Preferment, I do threaten thee, That if thou dost so, I will make thee quit England, or thy Life. And now begin as soon as you please—  Cau. 
Me quit England, or my Life— Didst hear that, Jonathan?  Jon. 
Yes, Sir, he threatened you, to make you quit England, or your Life.  Subt. 
'Tis true, I did so.  Cau. 
Then, Sir, that implies some Plot against the Government, and I will have you hanged by Information. First, by an Inuendo, and my Man shall be a Witness against you.  Subt. 
Then pray let me know your Man's Name.  Jon. 
My Name is Jonathan Simper.  Subt. 
Thou liest, thy Name is Betty Whiner, Thou art no Youth, but a Strumpet, by Choice and Education. Do not I remember that Face of thine at the Lady Fancyfull's in the Country, ever since I played at Cards there in the last great Frost? [Jon. sneaks, and holds down's Head.] You see, Father, I know the whole Intrigue between you and your Man: And I tell you plainly, that if you offer me any Injury, by yourself or any other, I will post up more Bills of thy Infamy, than ever Quack did of his Cures; and make thee as loathsome to thy own Party, as thou art already to the rest of Mankind.  Cau. 
Ha! ha'! ha'! I see you are merrily disposed, and would make me believe my Man is a Woman. Come, we won't quarrel about Trifles— Alas, I don't value Money— [But this Lechery is a plaguy Vice, to cost a Man a 1000ls. at one clap, 'tis a most wicked Abomination.  Aside. Subt. 
Then if you will promise not to invade the Territories of my Purse, I will conclude a strict Peace and Amity. But, first, you must swear that you will not do me any Injury, directly or indirectly.  Cau. 
Since you will have it so, I do swear, by all that's Sacred, I will never do it.  Subt. 
And may I trust you, upon your Verbum Sacerdotis?  Cau. 
You may— My Man Jonathan here is Witness.  Subt. 
Man or Woman 'tis sufficient.  Cau. 
Ay to deceive you.  Aside. 
Politico, Bigot, and Turnabout, advance upon the Stage. Politico speaks aloud. They all join Companies.  Pol. to Turn. 
Then you say the Lady's Name is Leucasia, and that she lodges next door to Mrs. Counterfeits, near the Savoy.  Turn. 
So they told me— [But what a Devil makes him to inquire.  Aside. Pol. 
'Tis well, very well— Not I care to inquire after Women, who have the Grand Affairs of some Nations lying upon my Hands. But because her adventure hither was a little singular, I had a mind to satisfy my Curiosity.  Turn. 
And Lust too I fear.  Aside. Pol. 
Go fetch Mrs. Counterfeit a Backway with expedition. [To his Man. Aside. Gentlemen, I have one little Contrivance to communicate to you, for which I desire the Assistance of you all, I mean, as to the executive Part, for the Invention is purely and solely my own. Our Friend Mackdonnel came to me this Morning, and told me a lamentable Story, How some of the Heretic Divines did baffle our Emissaries at a Public Coffeehouse. Wherefore I considering with myself the Casualties of these Spiritual Wars, wherein the Success does not depend upon the Goodness of the Cause, but the Strength and Management of the Combatants, have found out a certain way to Victory, unless you are deficient to yourselves.  Big. 
That we will not I assure you.  Pol. 
Look you— thus it must be— One of you must put on the Habit of an Heretical Clergyman, and repair to some Coffeehouse, at such time as 'tis most usually crowded with Company. Then must he insult and brag in so high a Tone, as may draw the Eyes and Ears of all the Company that way, Then another must put on the Habit of a Mechanic, and sit there demurely a good while. Then must the Mechanic enter into Dispute with the Gown and Cassock, the Gown and Cassock must yield, and formally acknowledge his Error.  Big. 
I will get the part of the Mechanic, and Mackdonnel that of the Blockhead in the Gown— He does it naturally.  Pol. 
No, he must not do so, if he can Act no other— Feigned Duncery will do us good, Natural Duncery will be sure to do us Evil. It is best not to make Mackdonnel acquainted with it. If Bigot shall put on the Gown and Cassock, Father Cautious the Carpenter's Rule and Apron, and Subtleman shall be there to applaud the Victory.  Cau. 
Ay, but Mr. Subtleman has not yet declared himself to be of our Side.  Subt. 
I hope none here do question my readiness to serve you.  Pol. to Subt. 
Sir, I put you in mind again, That much is expected from you— We have heard much of your good Inclinations— but some farther Declaration would be seasonable to yourself and others.  Subt. 
How a Devil shall I come off now. If my Invention would but furnish an Excuse now— Oh, I have it.  Aside. Big. 
Indeed, Mr. Subtleman, it is highly reasonable, that you that have been so largely rewarded, should now declare—  Subt. 
I am ready to do it— But there's one. Obstacle, I have it; A Father that is Rich, Old, Peevish, and Decrepit, and he hearing of my good Inclination to your Side, threatens to cut off th' Entall, and settle the best part of his Estate upon some Lectures against Popery— Now I would gladly know, whether it may not be lawful for me to remove him, provided I settle a good part upon Religious Uses—  
[How wretchedly I have belied the Man in this Character.  Aside. Big. 
A nice Question this.  Subt. 
What a Rogue is this to make a nice Question of the lawfulness of killing a Father,  Aside. Pol. 
I will send you two or three Casuists in the Afternoon to give you Satisfaction in that— But pray go with all speed about the other business.  All. 
You need not question our speed or diligence, adieu.  Exeunt omnes praeter Pol. Pol. 
Well, I must inquire after Mrs. Sergeant: for Leucasia she has Wit and Beauty, and I must enjoy her, if it can be done with Decency.  Exit. Enter Mrs. Sergeant and two Whores. Count. 
Look you Children, I have chosen out you two for the most profitable Encounter. Father Politico has sent for me in haste— and I can easily guests his business; but because you have traded another way, I will give you three Directions how to manage a Priest to his Content and Satisfaction. First You must pretend Religion, that you relieve their natural Necessities out of pure and fervent Charity, and then you must drop your Beads and mutter your Prayers before and after Enjoyment, for about as long a space as a Fanatic is saying Grace before and after Meat, that pleases mightily. Secondly, You must be secret, no boasting of these Amours— Thirdly, You must avoid Coiness, they hate Courtship because they can't arrive to it, and had rather pay in Money than in Words— Observe these Directions, and Success attends you.  Two Whores. 
We warrant you we'll learn any Lesson.  Enter Politico. Pol. 
Mrs. Counterfeit, you are welcome; but how come these Gentlewomen hither.  Count. 
I thought your Reverence might stand in need of their innocent Conversation.  Pol. 
Fie, fie, Mrs. Sergeant, you exceed your Order— Pray let them retire— I have business of Secrecy with you.  Count. 
Then pray Daughters be gone.  Two Whores. 
Yes— But 'tis a damned bauk this—  Exeunt. Pol. 
I hear you know Leucasia, and you may know if you please that I love her— I have found by deep Political Observations, that she has a great store of Wit, and a great hater of our Religion, and my particular Order— If ever I succeed, it must be in Disguise of some Officer discarded for sticking to the Protestant Interest— I have drawn up a Model of the Plot— Fellow me in— And Manual shall deliver it to you.  Count. 
Sir, I'll wait on you.  Exeunt.   


ACTUS III. SCENE I.  The Coffeehouse. 
Gentlemen at several Tables drinking and smoking, Bigot in a Gown and Cassock at one Table, Cautious in a Carpenter's Apron and Rule at another.  Enter Subtleman and Turnabout and place themselves at the same Table. First Gentleman 
THere was a brisk Rencounter they say this Morning.  Second Gent. 
Ay, and the Priests, they say, sneaked away very shamefully, I wish I had been here to have heard it.  Big. 
Hear it, Sir, that is impossible: Alas! at the best you could but have seen it, for the Fathers have nothing to say for themselves when they meet with a Man that can distinguish a Pike from a Cannon-bullet.  Subt. 
Was you then ever so much engaged with them?  Big. 
O, Sir, extremely— In the Indies I have converted twenty or thirty in a Night, who when they went to Mass the next Morning would—  First Gent. 
Did they go to Mass then after their Conversion?  Big. 
There I was almost out indeed. Aside.  
Ay, they would for once or so, just to take their leave of it, and sometimes one Vagary or other would change their Minds before Morning: but as I was saying, they would look so dejectedly and simply after it the next Morning.  Turn. 
And do you think, Sir, you could gain as easy a Conquest over them here.  Big. 
aloud.  
O easier behalf— Alas! if any of their Emissaries were here you would see how easily I could manage them; I would so gag their Mouths they should look for ever after like a parcel of Turkish Mutes, never dare to converse unless it were by Signs.  First Gent. 
This must needs be some ignorant Pretender, or some sly Knave.  
(one to another.)  
Cautious comes to the same Table with Bigot, and places himself against him.  Cau. 
Sir, I have heard you speak many opprobrious things against the Fathers of the Romish Persuasion; and though I am a poor Mechanic, I hope you will give me leave to say something in Vindication of those of that way.  Second Gent. 
Now we shall have Sport.  Big. 
Pray, Mr. Carpenter don't you pretend to engage with me; thou art some pitiful Fellow allured to that Religion out of hopes of having a job of Journeywork at the building the next Mass-house— Or thou art in hopes of earning Money from them by making a few Wooden Gods: O this making Wooden Gods is a most excellent Trade! I'll maintain a Man may get more by half a dozen Wooden Gods, than by a dozen Joynt-stooles or Wooden Dishes—  Cau. 
I delight not in Scurrility, and am an utter stranger to Learning; but if you will be pleased to hear what I have to say, like a true Carpenter, I will speak according to Rule, and contract what I have to say into a narrow compass.  Big. 
Gramercy brave Carpenter, thou shalt see how I will hue all thy Arguments into Chips. Come, begin—  Cau. 
Then the case is this— Do you think yourself, your small inconsiderable self, to be wiser than the Council of Lateran, Constance, Trent— consisting of so many grave Prelates met together from all parts of the World? Pray answer that.  Big. 
Ha! Ha! Ha!— A very fine Question indeed— If your Argument were reduced to Mood and Figure, your minor Proposition would be a Foot and half longer than your major, which is as absurd a thing as to see a Dagger longer than a Sword.  Gent. 
How like a Coxcomb this Fellow talks.  Cau. 
I understand no Mood nor Figure, but I understand by the Figure of your Face that you are in an angry Mood, and will not answer my Question; so that the Victory is on my side.  Big. 
Why, look you, Sir, your Question divides itself into three parts. 1. Whether I am wise? 2. Wiser. 3. Wisest of all: And first, to the first it must needs be acknowledged that I am wife, yea very wise, and as wise as most of my Profession.  Third Gent. 
Surely this Coxcomb banters.  Big. 
But then the second Question is, Whether I am wiser? now wiser being a degree of Comparison, and we having an old Proverb in England, that Comparisons are odious, I hope the Company will think we wisest of all, if I leave that Point of the Question undecided. [Sure this is ridiculous enough.  All Company. 
Ha! Ha! Ha! Aside. Bigot looks dejected. How he endeavours to avoid an Answer.  Cau. 
Come, answer directly, are you or not?  Big. 
O, wiser than they— Hum— wiser, I protest I dare not say it— I must not say it— I cannot, I ought not to do it: I must rather yield myself conquered.  Third Gent. 
Did ever Man boast so much, and perform so little?  All the Company laughs. Big. 
I protest Gentlemen, you ought not to laugh at a Man for being overcome with the force of Truth, it carries great Power, though in the Mouth of a mere Mechanic; I must, dare manus, yield him the Glory of the Conquest— I am not able to resist the invincible force of Truth—  First Gent. 
'Tis odd to see one of his Cloth so soon baffled by a pitiful Mechanic.  Second Gent. 
I fear 'tis done by Compact, they are so soon agreed—  Third Gent. 
No, I begin to suspect the strength of our Cause.  Enter , and places himself at the Table over against Bigot. Big. 
O, Gentlemen, why are you not all converted by my Example! I was just now boasting in my Heresy, and fond amorous of my erroneous Opinions: But now a dazzling and an amazing Light has darted through the dark Concerns of my Heart by help of Bauls' aloud. this ignorant Mechanic— Why are you not moved more, Gentlemen? Why don't ye throw yourselves into the chaste Embraces of your loving Mother? Come, pray, Gentlemen, follow me, and enter In apace, the Door may soon be shut—  First Gent. 
He talks like a Merry- Andrew at Bartholomew-Fair.  Second Gent. 
'Tis the oddest Change that ever I saw—  Subt. to Turn. 
If he get into his zealous Rhetorical Strain, he will spoil all—  Turn. 
Who, a Pox, cares whether he does or no.  Big. 
Come, pray Gentlemen be a little more forward, and accept of my strenuous Bauls aloud. and vocal Invitation— What none— None at all declare! None here for Rome— Who's for Rome?—  Subt. to Turn. 
I told you he would overact his part at last.  
 rises up, and takes Bigot by the Hand.  Mack. 
O my dear Brother Bigot, the Deel talk me if Is haud known thee but by thy Voish— Why whaut dosh my dear Joy mauke wear of aun Heretic Gown aund Caussack for— But by my shoul and Saint Pautrick, I saw thee this Morning in the Haubite of St. Dominick, and now thou dost look so oddly in that—  Big. 
Hold your Peace or I am discovered.  Aside to Mack. Mack. 
No, I will not hold my Peace, I will mauk Speech to the Company, and tell them what a Rauscal thou art to turn Protestant Heretic this Afternoon, who were't a Catholic Priest in the Morning— I say again, thou wast a Catholic Priest this very Morning by Shaint Pautrick, and now thou art turned Heretic— Bashe Heretic, Turncoat Heretic—  First Gent. 
O, this is a piece of Roguery then—  Cau. 
Nay but — dear Mack. dost not know me, prithee hold thy Tongue.  Mack. 
Know thee— why thou art Brother Cautious, the famoush Dominican, what a Deel maukes thee in Carpenter's Clothes— run away from the Cautholick Church in Disguise, by Shaint Pautrick I will mauke kill upon you both for your Roguery, bash Roguery Villains! Dogs.  
Takes a Dish of Coffee and throws in Bigot ' s Face, and palls out Cautious ' s Rule and strikes him on the Pate.  Turn. 
Nay, good Friend, no Irish Massacre here.  Holding Mack. Subt. to Mack. 
You cannot see your Friends from Priests— Prithee be quiet—  Mack. 
No, I will not, I cannot be quiet— I will maul— maul these turncoat Priests to death.  Breaks lose and kicks them about the Room. First Gent. 
O now I see the Roguery is come out, they came hither to put a Cheat upon us.  Second Gent. 
Come let's leave the Knaves to their Devices, this Shame won't take—  Third Gent. 
We shall take care to spread the Fame of their Roguery about the City— And so farewell.  Exeunt 〈◊〉 Cau. 
So Brother 〈…〉 done bravely 〈…〉  Big. 
Thou hast marred the most glorious Victory in the World— All after-Ages will have cause to curse thee—  Mack. 
By Shaint Pautrick— I do not know what hurt I have done— I did speak the truth— and I think I've served you right enough.  Big. 
Ay, 'tis Truth does ruin us— This is the first time that I ever found any Mischief in Zeal— Come in, we'll make you sensible of your Error—  Exeunt. Enter Sir Geo. Subt. followed by a Servant. Sir Geo. 
This is the oddest Letter that ever I received. Let me see— surely my Senses deceive me. (Pulls out the Letter and reads.)  
For Sir Geo. Subtleman at Kensington, These.  
Sir,  
YOu may save your Estate and your Life into the bargain, if at three of the Clock in the Afternoon, on the third Instant at the Savoy Coffee-house, you will meet  
Your unknown Friend. R. C.  
I can't imagine who this R. C. should be, I expect to find him a mad Man, a Knave, or a Fool; for I have but one Son, and have no reason to suspect him of any Plot against my Life or Estate— How comes this Letter?  Ser. 
By a special Messenger.  Sir Geo. 
'Tis strange! but yet I shan't neglect— Dost thou know where my Niece Leucasia lodges?  Ser. 
'Tis near this Place— but where I cannot tell.  Sir Geo. 
Go, find it out, and tell her I intent to wait on her.  Ser. 
Yes, Sir.  Enter Cautious, Jonathan his Man. Cau. 
Art thou sure, Jonathan, that is old Sir Geo. Subtleman.  Jon. 
Yes, I am very sure.  As Sir George is poring on the Letter. Cau. 
Then will I discover his Son's Intentions to kill him, and so complete my Revenge on young Subtleman for cheating me of my Money, and perhaps get no small Sum from the old Man for this seasonable Information—  Jon. 
But did you not promise Subtleman, that you would not, directly or indirectly, do him an Injury.  Cau. 
Pshaw, pshaw, 'tis for grave old Men, and not such young Striplings as yourself to understand the Obligation of Promises— Let me alone for that.  Advancing to Sir George. 
Sir, tho' a Stranger, I make bold to ask you if this Paper be subscribed R. C?  Sir Geo. 
Yes, Sir, it is so.  Cau. 
If so, I must acknowledge myself to be the Author of it; and upon good terms can give you farther information.  Sir Geo. 
Your Information I shall hear most gladly. But before you begin, I will tell you my Character, and that perhaps may save you the labour of proceeding further. I am old, but not infected with the usual Humours of Old Age. I am not credulous, for I believe none (especially Priests) upon their bare word. If you bring no further proof than that, you will lose your Cause in my Court of Justice. I am not timorous, and therefore you may spare all flourishing Aggravations of Danger, for there is no Danger that I dare not meet, or that can seem greater to me than it really is. I am neither stupid or forgetful; therefore if you have sent this Paper, or come yourself to impose upon me, you shall find that I have not forgot the faculty of remembering Injuries. I am neither immoderately Covetous, nor dotingly Prodigal. I requite Courtesies moderately in my Life-time, but shall never (like some old Children) leave an Estate to them that feed me with Sugar-Plums, or buy me Play-things. But I have one Imperfection of old Age, I am very peevish when I hear Impertinencies; which praying you to avoid, I hope you will begin your Story—  Cau. 
Well then— Being moved by mere Love and Compassion—  Sir Geo. 
Nay, than you must give me leave to interrupt you; Don't pretend Love or Compassion to me; For how a De'l shouldst thou love an old Man and a mere Stranger?— Besides, if thou art moved to do me good, what a Pox do I care what moved thee— 'Tis all one to me, whether 'tis mere Friendship, or thine own Interest.  
I hate Flattery, that is another of my Qualities.  Cau. 
My own Interest! Why all the World knows I am not Covetous— But—  Sir Geo. 
Nay, now I must interrupt you again, and tell you plainly, that all the World does not know that thou art not Covetous; for I myself do believe thou art, what else should engage thee to turn Informer? And now I must tell thee of another of my Qualities; I hate lying above all things in the World, pray avoid that—  Cau. 
Well— Seeing that you are not willing that I should clear myself from the vile Aspersion of Covetousness— I shall desist—  Sir Geo. 
From what? Do you not now appear in the Person of an Informer? and are you ignorant, that the more you are aspersed, the better you are qualified for that Office?  Cau. 
I perceive, Sir, you are very well qualified to lose all you have rather than receive a little seasonable Information— And so Adieu. [Going out, Sir Geo. pulls him back.  Sir Geo. 
Nay, remember, Sir, since I perceive you begin to avoid the Superfluities and Excressencies of Speech, I must hear what you have to say.  Cau. 
Then you must give me Money in the first Place, and an Oath of Secrecy not to discover your Author in the Second.  Sir Geo. 
This is short, pithy, and to the purpose— Here is Money in the first place— And my Promise not to discover you in the Second.  Cau. 
Then the Business in short is this: Your Son has proposed a Question to be resolved by the Fathers; Whether he may not lawfully knock you on the Head, 1. As a useless Person. 2. A peevish and cross-grained, And, 3. an obstinate Heretic?— And now I can tell you more— (Tho' I hate Covetousness) if you would give me more Money.  Sir Geo. 
What, give thee Money for a notorious and impudent Forgery? My Son knows me to be so far from being useless, that I do all Business for him; and Eat, Drink, Dance, Wench for myself into the bargain— I am so far from being peevish, that I can forbear breaking you Head, notwithstanding this intolerable Provocatior. And as for being an obstinate Heretic, 'tis most notoriously false, for I never did trouble my Head so much about Religion as to be one— And now, Sir, I shall tell my Son of your Information, for which he will undoubtedly reward you.  Cau. 
But did you not promise Secrecy?  Sir Geo. 
Yes, if you spoke Truth, but I cannot conceal a Lie— for that is another of my Qualities which I forgot to mention.  Cau. 
To confute you, follow me, and I will carry you to the very Place, where you shall hear your Son propose that Question to myself and others— your Resolution of it?  Sir Geo. 
Gramercy, old Father, now thou speakest to the purpose: Do that, and I shall be grateful.  Cau. 
That is, you'll give me a Gratification.  Sir Geo. 
Yes, and a good One too—  Cau. 
That's well— For tho' I hate Covetousness, yet I love a Gratification, it shows Honesty; Come, follow me—  Sir Geo. 
I will— Exeunt.   
Scene's Leucasia's Lodgings. Leucasia and Betty. Leu. 
Art sure the Story of the Coffeehouse Encounter is true?  Betty. 
'Tis the whole Discourse and Laughter of the Town. Mr. Turnabout was one of the Managers.  Leu. 
Ha! ha'! ha'! Then I hope the poor Creature will be tired at last with their Folly, if not with their Wickedness—  Enter Boy. Boy. 
Madam— Mr. Turnabout is upon the Stairs, and is very earnest for Admittance.  Leu. 
Let him come up— He's no dangerous Man; Besides, I want Diversion.  Exit Boy. Betty. 
Now, good Madam, Tease him.  Enter Turnabout. Turn. 
Lady, your Servant— You see now the force of Love and good Nature— I am come to visit you, notwithstanding the ill Character you gave of me to Father Politico.  Leu. 
I vow, Sir, you condescend too much— and make your Visits with too great an Equipage. My Lodgings here are small, and cannot receive your numerous Train of Pages, Footmen, and other Attendance. The Street I live in is too narrow, and will be encumbered with your Coach and Six— so that you must not in prudence let your Visits be long, for which I'm exceeding sorry.  Turn. 
Don't le● that, Madam, grieve or concern you; I come attended with one only Page, his Name is Cupid, he keeps close to me Day and Night, and is extremely watchful— I hope your Ladyship will not turn him down among the Servants in the Hall, but admit him a little nearer to your Bosom.  Leu. 
If you have a Cupid, 'tis certainly the oddest that ever was known. He is not only Blind, but Invisible, for let me die if I can see any thing like a Cupid about you: You have the same Face, the same Eyes, the same Nose (abating a little alteration) that you ever had, and which I often told you that I never liked. Nay, on my Conscience, thou hast the same Hat, the same Sword, and the same Breeches. I fancy thou hast changed nothing for these three Years but thy Religion, and a few Brass Half-Crowns, and cracked Nine-pences.  Turn. 
My Cupid, Madam, is never the weaker for being Invisible. All Philosophers agree, that there are occult Qualities in Love, as well as in Nature, that can attract Hearts of Steel or Iron, by an Invisible Chain. It is enough for me that I know you love me, by the care you have taken for my Re-conversion.  Leu. 
You build a greater Superstructure upon that, than the Foundation is able to bear. I wonder how you can think a Woman should love a Man the better for his being altered for the worse. Your Complexion seems to me to be pale and sickly; I fancy you frequent Coffeehouses to assist the Fathers in the laborious propagation of Nonsense. But, let me advise you to forbear Coffee, 'twill destroy much of the Lustre that is borrowed from the beneficial influence of Claret.  Turn. 
How the Devil came she to hear that? Aside.  
Madam, if I am pale, as you say, I am pale with Love; and though you often upbraid me with changing, yet I am sure you can't say that ever I changed that. Pray, Madam, for once, make trial of my Constancy in a Matrimonial way— So you shall see how patiently I will wear that Chain, without one thought of changing.  Leu. 
The Experiment is too costly for me to make, I am not like those Vertuoso's that expend ready Money, in hopes of extracting Gold out of Pewter-Dishes— Besides, you pretend to me to be in Love; yet I have one infallible Demonstration that you are not so; for if you were, you could not choose but obtain your Desires, you that are so intimate with the famous Politico, that has a thousand Plots and Intrigues in his Head, great and small, of all sorts and sizes, for Men and for Women, and (as some say) for Children too. Methinks he might easily teach you a way to circumvent such a weak Woman as I am: He could instruct you how to put on such Disguises, that you and Father Bigot, and Father Cautious might gain half the Women in the Nation, especially if the ingenious Mackdonnel have an hand in the Plot,  Turn. 
Good Madam, tell me no more of Plotting, I hate Plotting above all things, and that makes me to frequent Plays: My Business is plain Love— I have nothing to do with Plotting.  Leu. 
And I must tell you, for your further encouragement, that I can never love a Man of your Persuasion.  Turn. 
Alas, Madam, if that be all, I am of no Persuasion at all but your Ladyships, for you persuade me— to any thing: Cannot a Man frequent Mass, or coke's the Fathers for a little Money to enable him to keep his Coach and Six— but presently you must think that he is of their Persuasion— I vow, Madam, you are too credulous in all things, but in believing that I love you.  Leu. 
I shall avoid that Imputation for the future, but never give credit to any thing you say hereafter: For since you tell me you dissemble in other Things, how shall I believe you in that.  Turn. 
O, you may know that by a kind of natural Instinct, and by this general Rule, That I never dissemble but when it is for my Interest—  Leu. 
And therefore if it be your Interest to love me, it will be your Interest to dissemble with me— But to wave that, I wonder what expectation you can have from that designing Gang, that make it their Business to deceive you and all Mankind—  Turn. 
I must confess at first, whilst they thought me a Man of a good Estate, and overrun with the simplicity of Superstition, I could get nothing from them but Exhortations, to settle my Land upon the Church; to turn Mendicant, or undertake expensive Employments for the good of the Catholic Cause. But after your Ladyship did give Politico an account of my Designs and Endowments, they treated me with all the Kindness Imaginable.— They promise Mountains of Gold, and tell me, it shall not be long before I ride in my Coach and Six—  Leu. 
But suppose you should find your Coach and Six— to be suddenly transformed to a Cart and four— by a certain unlucky Spell of Queen B. would it not amaze you?  Turn. 
Pshaw, pshaw, never fear that; if I can escape dying by Love, I fear no other Death.  Enter Boy. Boy. 
Madam, here is a Gentlewoman with a Patch on her Nose, and a great Beadrol in her Hand, that would gladly have admittance.  Leu. 
I warrant 'tis that Beast of a Woman, Mrs. Sergeant, that ambitious Animal, 'twixt Bawd and Whore: That Spiritual Caterer for the Flesh, that provides the Necessaries of Nature for the Fathers with great Zeal and Devotion. 'Tis a Load of Scandal, I will not see her.  Turn. 
If you do not, I fancy she manages some private Intrigue with you— Come, Madam, you must see her, I would fain know her Business.  Leu. 
Then you must stay here to take off the Scandal of the Company— She is the only Person in the World that I know more scandalous than yourself.  Turn. 
I dare not stay, for she lately served me a damned Jade's Trick, and I fear my Passion should make me transgress the Rules of Decency in a Lady's Chamber—  Leu. 
Then retire into the Closet, and there you may overhear our Discourse, and be a Witness that I hold no correspondence with you or yours.  Turn. 
With all my Heart— But pray place Mrs. Counterfeits Chair very near the Closet Door.  Exit. Leu. 
Well, it shall— Bid her come up, Exit Boy.  Betty. 
Now we shall have an Intrigue—  Enter Mrs. Counterfeit. Mrs. Count. 
O Neighbour— Dear Neighbour — sweet innocent Neighbour, why art thou so unkind, as to live so near and never come to see me.  Leu. 
You have so many Lady's fit for Conversation in your House, that I believe one of the other Sex would be more acceptable if it were only for Variety's sake.  Count. 
I protest, Madam, you are mistaken; not but that an abundance of the most religious Ladies in the City do pride themselves in my Acquaintance, but none to compare with yourself for Wit and Beauty. I protest, Dearest, I was in some Company, that talked so well of thee to day— But there was one Story did a little vex me.  Leu. 
Nay, if you have a Story to tell, you had best sit down.  Chairs there, one next that Closet-door. 
Betty to Count Please you to sit there, Madam.  Count. 
Then I will tell thee, Dearest, they say thou art in love with Mr. Turnabout, a Man of no Parts, Address or Fortune— I protest I wonder that a Lady of your excellent Perfections should think of throwing away yourself upon a Person that is never likely to make any Figure in the World.  Turn. 
What's that, Ha! what's that?  Turnabout comes out, and stands listening behind her Chair. Leu. 
I thought he had been the most likely of any— He boasts much of his Friendship with Politico, Bigot, Cautious, and others— I thought he might have been one of the greatest Men in the Nation.  Count. 
Ay, he may boast as long as he pleases, but I can assure you he has little reason; I know the Minds of the Father's better than he does, and I heard them say this very Morning, that they never intended to do any thing for him.  Turn. 
How's that— how— damned Whore. Aside.  Leu. 
What nothing at all?  Count. 
I beg your Pardon, Madam, something they may do, perhaps get him to be a Sergeant in a Foot Regiment, which they foresee will shortly be disbanded, and then you may see him sent home with one Shoe on his Foot, and a piece of another in his Snapsack— Or if he had rather choose Civil than Military, they may make him Alderman of some Corporation where they fetch Straw, and the Mayor thatches.  Leu. 
Ha', ha', ha', is that all?  Turnabout takes hold of her Chair and pulls her backwards, and giving her a box o'th' Ear, runs back into the Closet. Turn. 
O damned Whore, come hither to spoil my Fortune!  Count. 
O, Murder! Murder! I am come here to a Friend's House to be murdered!  Leu. 
No, good Mrs. Sergeant, I hope there's no hurt yet; here, Betty, help her up.  Lifts her up. Count. 
Was ever an Indignity of this gross nature put upon a Lady in her Friend's House?  Betty. 
You must not, Madam, impute this to my Lady, we have a Servant in the House, the Fathers have caused to run mad, by puzzling his Head with Controversy, and promising to make him Mayor of a regulated Corporation; and whenever he hears talk of Mayor or Aldermen, he is always ready to do Mischief—  Count. 
Well, I protest, he had disordered— He ought to be punished severely for it—  Leu. 
Mad Men and Fools have Privileges of farther extent than the greatest Princes: we cannot be angry at them without becoming like unto them; but I hope you'll pass it by since you have not much harm.  Count. 
Well, since it is so, I must bear it: But as I was saying before, my dear Neighbour, there is a Person of Quality lately fallen in love with you— Well, I'll say no more,— but for Riches, Beauty, Wit, Bravery and every thing that is charming, perhaps all England has not his Fellow, only he has one one fault, for which I needs must hate him.  Leu. 
And perhaps that one fault will out-ballance all his other Virtues: if you would recommend a Man to me, let me know his Faults first, and I will soon find out his Virtues after. Men expose their Excellencies, like rich Furniture, to the Eyes of all Beholders, when their Defects, like Lumber, is thrown into dark Corners where it is hard to find them.  Count. 
O, but this is a fault exposed to the Eyes of the World, and I am forbid by the Principles of my Religion to intercede for him.  Leu. 
It must needs then be some Filthiness that ought not to be named; you had best let it alone and pass to some other Subject.  Count. 
No, I protest I will not; but I'll tell you plainly what it is. He is such an obstinate Heretic, and such a Slave to his pretended Honour, that rather than comply with some reasonable Demands, he has quitted one of the most considerable Military Employments in the Army.  Leu. 
That is hard indeed.  Count. 
And the truth is, he has brought that Mischief upon his own Head by affronting the famous Politico and Bigot, he was always satirical against them, but they at length resolved to chastise him— And does not your Ladyship now abhor him for this?  Leu. 
So far from that, that I assure you I honour all those worthy Patriots that fall by the hands of those insatiable Cannibals; and I wish it lay in my Power to redress any part of his Lordship's Sufferings: I perceive you mistake me for a Catholic, I am of a contrary Persuasion.  Count. 
I protest I did not know it— well then you are the only Person in the World that can relieve his Melancholy, one glance of yours would turn his Night into Day: He is in Town Incognito, sighing always for you, and repeating the sweet Name of Leucasia: O dear Madam, that you would but afford him the Consolation of a Visit.  Leu. 
I am always a Friend to the Resolute and Brave as far as it consists with the Rules of my Honour. Pray what is his Name?  Count. 
Let his Name be concealed for the present, when you come to know it you will be amazed.  Leu. 
That's strange— Then I presume he is ashamed of the Amour below him.  Count. 
Not so, but there are particular Reasons for it; but I protest, Madam, he is a Man of unbounded Wealth and Generosity; here are some Jewels of his mere trifles in respect of his Riches, which he desires you to accept of.  Leu. 
Sure his Lordship thinks me very Mercenary— I am not used to receive such Offers. Angry.  Betty. 
Pray, Madam, accept of them, I will give you a good Reason for it by the by.  Aside to Leu. Leu. 
Thou art very impertinent— But for once I'll take thy Counsel.  Aside to Betty. Count. 
Nay dearest, prithee be not angry, he thought them Curiosities your Ladyship might affect— Prithee be so kind as to accept of them.  Leu. 
Tho I am not ignorant that hereby I shall transgress the Rules of Decency; yet because his Lordship is a Sufferer for the Cause I love, and persecuted by the Persons I hate, I can deny him nothing— Pray let me see 'em.  Count. 
And you will permit him to tell you his Sufferings.  Leu. 
'Tis a thing too small to deny a Person of his worth.  She and Betty looking on the Jewels. Count. 
This Plot of Politico's does take to Admiration. (Whispers Leu.) the hour 5.  Leu. 
Yes.  Count. 
Then my dearest Neighbour adieu. She riseth.  
Now I shall move nimbly though my Bones are sore bruised. Aside.  
But pray Neighbour, let me see you sometimes at my House, I have there a Set of as civil devout Gentlewomen as ever Europe bred— But pray don't come at our hours of Prayer— we have Prayers five times a day— After that we take all Liberty imaginable—  Leu. 
I believe you.  Count. 
Your Servant sweet Lady.  Exit curtesying. Leucasia calls Turnabout out of the Closet. Leu. 
(Laughing.) Here Mr. Turnabout, Sergeant, Mayor, Alderman— What are you? why don't you slip out of your Hole for Joy to hear such good News from Mrs. Counterfeit.  Enter Turnabout. Turn. 
And methinks, Madam, you might run into yours for shame, to receive Gifts from, and promise Assignations to cashiered Lords and Barons.  Leu. 
Then▪ I warrant, you pretend to be jealous, and with a design too of making me believe that you are in Love; but that is too common a Shame to impose upon one that is not very proud of her own Perfections. Alas! if you should marry me, you must expect ten times more than this.  Turn. 
I do believe it, Madam— Farewell. He's going.  Leu. 
Nay, stay a little, I have something to say to you.  Turn. 
After the Spark has been here, I'm ready to hear. Exit.  
Leu to Betty. So, now I see what it is to take the Advice of Chambermaid's— You counselled me to take the Jewels, and now the jealous Mr. Turnabout will make a fine Story of it about Town.  Betty. 
Your Fame is so great, and your Innocence greater, that you may well despise those Censures that are dreadful only to the Guilty— But, Madam, I had good Reason for my Advice; for I fancy the great Protestant Commander is no other than the famous Politico that intends to make love in that Disguise.  Leu. 
On my Conscience a shrewd guess! But, prithee, what are thy Reasons for it?  Betty. 
Why, first, your Ladyship told me, that he gloated upon you with lustful Eyes.  Leu. 
'Tis true, I did observe it.  Betty. 
Then you know that Mrs. Counterfeit does deal for no other kind of .  Leu. 
'Tis true, she trade's with no other.  Betty. 
Then whereas she pretends, that he is a great Protestant Commander lately cashiered, it is impossible— The public News gives an Account of no such Person— it must needs be a Fiction.  Leu. 
That's well observed.  Betty. 
Then she conceals the Name, and yet can give no reason for it.  Leu. 
All this is true.  Betty. 
Now if your Ladyship would let me see the Jewels, I could discover more from them.  Leu. 
Prithee see them as long as thou wilt. Shows 'em.  Betty. 
By heavens the very same!— A Servant of Politicoes showed some of these very Jewels in a Scrittore of his, by chance left open.  Leu. 
'Tis beyond doubt; and I am as glad of it, as if he had given me half the Indies. If I catch him in the Trap, I shall serve him as I use to do Vermin, make him leave a Limb behind him.— But I will first take a little fresh Air, to quicken my Invention. Do thou stay at home; my Uncle Sir George desired the use of my Apartment this afternoon, for the entertainment of some Friends; but I know not what matter of concernment. Pray see my Servants let them want no attendance. Exeunt.  Enter Sir George Subtleman, Cautious, Servant to Leucasia, and Jon. Simper. Sir Geo. to Seru. 
Is my Niece gone out then?  Seru. 
Just taken Coath, Sir; and left word, That you and your friends should be entertained in this Apartment.  Sir George. 
'Twas kindly done.— To serv.] You may retire. You see, Mr. Cautious, here is a Room for the Consolation, here a Closet for me to overhear in.— You say, It is in your Power to bring them wheresoe'er you please; if I find your allegations against my Son to be true, I have Writings ready to convey the best part of my Estate to my Niece, and a Thousand pound Bond ready to seal to yourself: but if false, you may easily guests the consequence.  Cau. 
Ay, One dreadful consequence would be, That I should get no money.  Sir Geo. 
That's true.  Cau. 
Well, retire into the Closet; be patiented, and give me leave, according to my custom, to vote with the major part, and I shall convince you.  Sir Geo. 
I am ready to make trial.  Retires into the Closet, and locks the door. Cau. 
Go, Jonathan, tell the Gentlemen walking by the Waterside, that I am ready to attend them.  Jon. 
I shall, Sir. Exit Jon.  Cau. 
Now is not this better, to mind my own private Concerns, and get 1000ls. than to mind the Public, and get nothing but a rap over the head with a Carpenter's Rule, or a kick on the breech, as I lately received from Mackdonnel? This Notion of Public Good is a mere Chimaera, framed by those men that love to do great things to no purpose.— For my part, I can perceive nothing real in it.— Enter Subtleman, Father Bigot, three Casuists in black, Jonathan Simper.  Cau. 
Gentlemen, ye are welcome to the Apartment I have chosen as most convenient.— A Table here, and Stools.  
They are brought, they sit round the Table. Mr. Subtleman, propound your Case.— These Gentlemen have studied Casuistical Divinity at St. Omers, and can soon resolve you.  Subt. 
Then thus it is:— A young Gentleman, willing to turn Catholic, is hindered by a Father that is useless, old, peevish, rich, heretical.— Quaere, Whether in this Case it may not be lawful for the young Son to remove by violent courses the ancient Father?  Sir George 
within. Oh Rogue! Rascal! Villain!  Big. 
Gentlemen, I will open the particular Case of young Mr. Subtleman thus:— In all moral actions, we must consider the Good and Evil that attend them, and cautiously consider which does outweigh the other: Let us apply then this Rule to our present Case, and see what Good and what Evil is likely to ensue the removal of this ancient Gentleman.  All. 
A good method.  Big. 
As for the good, that is great and Visible: For, first, hereupon a young Gentleman of known Parts and Integrity will immediately declare for the Catholic Church;— which I esteem to be worth to the Public at least 1000ls.— Then here's an Estate of 4000l. per annum placed in the hands of one that will bestow it upon Religious Uses:— Valuing which but at twelve years' purchase, amounts to 48000l.— Then here are Lectures against Popery prevented, (for the old Gentleman has threatened to settle part of his Estate for that use), the avoiding which, I suppose, may be valued at 2000l. more.— This amounts in all to 50000l.  All. 
An exact computation.  Big. 
Now let us take a brief view of the Evil or Mischief in this action.— First, here is a Gentleman removed out of the way, that was likely to enjoy an Estate of 4000l. per annum for about three years, and that is worth 12000l. But because he is decrepit, and cannot have the free use of Women, Wine, and other Diversions, the most it can amount to is 1000ls.  Sir Geo. 
from within. The Rogue belies me, I can use them as well as he.  Big. 
Then here are some innocent Relations wronged of some trifling Legacies;— which we will esteem, though dearly, at 3000l. Then there is the Charges of getting the work done, which in Italy I should value but at Half-a-Crown: but such Villains being dearer here than in Catholic Countries, it may cost 20l. The Penances for expiation of the Crime I value at 100l. though there were good times when such things might be done cheaper.— So that the whole damage of such an action amounts but to 5200l. and what proportion does that bear to 50000l.?  1 Cas. 
My Brother speaks well, but not all that may be said on this Subject:— For in Murder two things are to be considered; 1. the Act of killing, and 2. the Intention. Now it is plain that the Immorality of Murder does not consist in mere kill, for then every Executioner or Soldier would be guilty of Murder: but it is the evil malicious intention of the mind that is all in all. Now if Mr. Subtleman bear no malice to his Father, but does that Work in a spirit of Love and Charity for the good of the Catholic Cause, there can be no evil in it; provided he gives all the Estate that accrues thereby, to the Church, to show that therein he was not acted by a spirit of Covetousness.  Subt. 
What an unconscionable Fellow is this! Can not one half serve his turn?  Aside. 2 Cas. 
My Brother speaks well, but I must add this:— That as to kill a man (yea a Parent) with a charitable intention is certainly lawful; so to kill an Heretic, an inveterate obstinate Heretic, is more than lawful, it is highly meritorious: They are condemned by the Laws Ecclesiastical and Civil, and any man may be their Executioner.  3 Cas. 
What my Reverend Brethren have said in this Case, is undoubtedly true; but, for the Gentleman's satisfaction, I will prove the lawfulness of the Fact by an infallible Demonstration.— Suppose it thus:— Young Mr. Subtleman takes up an Hammer, and knocks out the Brains of his aged Parent:— Quaere, If this Action be in itself unlawful?— I answer, No;— For if there be no unlawfulness in any part of this Action, than there is none in the whole— But there is no unlawfulness either in taking up the Hammer, or lifting the Hammer, or letting down the Hammer; Ergo, There is none in knocking out the old man's Brains.  Subt. 
This fellow is more Dunce than Villain.  Big. 
But what say you to the point, Brother Cautious?  Cau. 
Why look ye, Brethren, ye have left me little to say, but only this:— If there be any evil in such a Murder, it consists in the Injury that is done to the murdered person; and an Injury, is some part of Injustice done to man against his will, (Volenti non fit injuria); If therefore there could be a way found to send the Gentleman into another world with his own consent, there could be no scruple in it.  1 Cas. 
Then the best way is to knock out's Brains with 100l. Bag.— If he be a truly covetous man, he can never think that money can do him any harm.  2 Cas. 
Or pour down his Throat a spoonful of melted Gold, when he sleeps with his mouth open.  3 Cas. 
Or dispatch him with a good Dose of Quicksilver, he must needs have a veneration for That; it is the Mother of Gold, and all other Metals.  Subt. 
What a pleasant Story this will be to tell the old man! Aside.  Enter Sir George from the Closet, with two Papers in his hand; They all start, and are amazed. Sir Geo. 
Gentlemen, I understand that I am a dying man, and therefore I beseech ye all to be witnesses to my last Will and Testament.  Subt. 
My Father! what cursed luck brought him hither? If he o'r-heard our discourse, he will think that I was in earnest.  Aside. Sir Geo. 
Come, pray Gentlemen be Witnesses to my Will; 'tis soon done, and human life is uncertain.  Subt. 
My honoured Father, what good Genius brought you hither!  Sir Geo. 
O thou best of Sons! I am glad to see thee in so good company.  
Goes to salute them, they are sneaking away. Nay pray Gentlemen stay.— I have strange presages of my Death, and fear it will be sudden.— I have given 40s. to my only Son,— So much Virtue should not go unrewarded.— The rest of my Estate shall be given to my virtuous Niece, Leucasia.— Pray stay and seal presently, for I have a great many Money-bags, and do often sleep with my mouth open.  1 Cas. 
Sir, we cannot stay.  2 Cas. 
Sir, you must excuse us, we have business.  3 Cas. 
Here are witnesses enough beside us. Farewell. Exeunt.  Bigot is going out, but is stopped by Sir Geo. Sir Geo. 
Nay, Sir, you shall stay, and be witness with my Son to a Bond.— A Candle here.  A Candle brought; the Bond sealed, and given to Cautious. Subt. 
But pray Sir hear me.  Sir Geo. 
Good Son, avoid impertinencies. What needst thou speak, when the thing is done?  Subt. 
But one word.  Sir Geo. 
There is never a word in the world that can make to thy purpose.— I heard enough.  Subt. 
But, Sir, you are mistaken in me.  Sir Geo. 
But, Son, you are mistaken in me— I know how to keep out of your Clutches.  Subt. 
But by all that's good and sacred!—  Sir Geo. 
That is, by just nothing.— How canst thou think any thing good or sacred, that couldst design and contrive the Death of a Parent?  Subt. 
You cannot think so.  Sir Geo. 
Yes, Son, I can, must, and will think so.  Big. 
But pray, Sir, consider his motive was Zeal, pure, flaming Zeal.— I say you should excuse it.  Cau. 
Mr. Subtleman, I am sorry for your misfortune, but cannot relieve you.  Sir Geo. 
I wish you much joy of living by your Wits. Exeunt all but young Subt.  Cau. drops a Paper. Subt. 
Hell! Death! and Confusion!— What a damned Praemunire have these Rogues, Priests and Casuists brought me into!— I am betrayed, else it is impossible my Father should be in Leucasia's Closet.— But the Traitor I know not.— But stay, here's a Paper, I'll read it.  Takes up the Paper, and reads. 
The Condition of this Obligation is such, That if the above-bounden Sir George Subtleman, Knight and Baronet, do pay, or cause to be paid to Robert Cautious, etc. the Sum of 1000ls. in consideration of the discovery of his Son's Villainy, etc. Then this Obligation, etc.  
So then 'tis out— The revengeful, covetous Dog, Cautious, has done me this Injury, though contrary to his Oath: But by heavens I shall make him and his Punk in man's  pay dearly for it. And yet it is no wonder; for  
He that a Secret to a Priest does trust,  
Or is so foolish as to hope him Just, May he become Partaker of my Fate, And see his Error when it is too late.  Exit.   


ACT. IU. SCEN. I.  Enter Cautious, Jon. Simper crying, and Servant to Leucasia. Cau. to Seru. 
IF your Lady be at leisure, present her with this Paper from her Uncle, Sir George Subtleman; and tell her, I have a farther message by word of mouth.  Seru. 
My Lady will wait upon you presently.  Exit. Cau. 
Nay, it is vain to cry, for part we must.— Young Subtleman knows your Sex, and will divulge that secret as confidently as Grubstreet-News, and as speedily as a false Alarm.  Jon. 
And can you be so cruel as to thrust me from you, who have been so faithful? Did you not often tell me, That simple Fornication was no Sin, and sometimes a Duty? Did not you cite many of your most famous Authors, to prove that it was an Act of Charity, pure and flaming Charity, to relieve the natural Necessities of a languishing Brother, excluded from the Joys of Matrimony? Did you not make me believe all this? else I had been pure and innocent.  Cries. Cau. 
I cannot deny, but that several of our Casuistical Authors are, as I told you, of that Opinion; but it has since been condemned as a scandalous Truth, not fit to be divulged, especially in an heretical Country, where the major part are of another Opinion.  Jon. 
How often have you called me your Spiritual Sister, and told me that that Relation was stronger than a Matrimonial Obligation? How often have you made me believe that you had a Papal Dispensation to enjoy me with safety for ever?— And must I now be turned away, without money to provide the necessaries of nature?  Cau. 
Pray talk not of money, you know that I am poor, and have none.  Jon. 
What have I done to deserve this usage from you? Have I not been silent, to gratify your cursed Hypocrisy? Have I not quietly laid down two great Bellies in the Country, without so much as crying out, even in Labour? Did not I save the lives of both the Babes, because they were like thee, ungrateful man! when you and the Catholic Midwife would have had them both dispatched?  Cau. 
To save the credit of an Order, I presume, some such thing might be done; though, I confess, it is better to let it alone, if it can be let alone without so much charge.  Jon. 
Have not I been as silent as a Turkish Mute, or as Epicoene in the Silent Woman, lest my Voice should betray my Sex; and what greater torment can a Woman suffer than silence? though sometimes your wanton dalliances with other Women might provoke even a stone to speak;— especially one that has loved you as I always did.  Cries. Cau. 
But, notwithstanding your silence, your Sex is now known to young Subtleman; and if he be once enraged, as I fear he will be, he will make my disgrace intolerable: I have already lost 1000 l. would you have me to lose all?  Jon. 
Come, if the truth were known, you have little reason to upbraid me with losing 1000 l. I have saved you more than that: Other men that keep Misses, are forced to expend the best part of their Estates in , Pages, Coaches, Footmen, and a thousand such devices; but you have kept me in the habit of a poor Servingman, and bought my  in Long-lane, as you say, to prevent suspicion, but as I believe, to save charges. If Mr. Subtleman does know my Sex, it is no fault of mine; he remembers ever since he played at Lancteraloo at my Lady Fancifull's; for I had a face then might be remembered, but now—  Cau. 
Ay now, indeed, it is time to repent, we have enjoyed our pleasure a long time. She is naturally well inclined, this may work on her.  Aside. Jon. 
Ay 'tis time to repent; but I can tell you a great many things you ought to repent of before this.— How often have you turned away poor honest Catholics from employment of Trust and Profit, to make room for Atheists and Heretics, because they had more money and less honesty!  Cau. 
Pray be less obstreperous, and remember you are in Leucasia's Lodgings.  Jon. 
How often have you given promise of the same place to ten several persons, and employed your Interest at Court for none!— Do you think I have forgot these things?  Cau. 
Nay, now you will never have done. I say, Remember again that you are in the Lady Leucasia's Lodgings.  Jon. 
Nay, how should I ever have done, when I remember how often you have made me forswear myself? As in the case of the Gentleman last night, who promised you 80 Guinea's for a kindness, and you made me swear it was 100  Cau. 
And pray what did you lose by that? did not I give you five Guinea's for your Reward?  Jon. 
Ay, but since you talk of repenting, why don't you repent of these things? Come, come, you may be ashamed to use me thus. If Politico deals no better with his Ladies, ask Mrs. Count.  Enter Betty. Betty. 
Sir You're dogged from your Lodgings hither, and the House is beset by Sir George Subtleman, his Son, Father Bigot Mackdonnel, with Constables and Watch.— They have lost a golden Chalice, and young Mr. Subtleman affirms he saw something very bulky in your man's bosom, and they are resolved to search him very narrowly: my Lady gives them full leave, without the least resentment, and they are now upon the stairs.  Cau. 
Bid 'em come up if they dare.  Betty. 
I will.  Exit. Cau. 
Death and Confusion! This is a Plot of young Subtleman's to procure my disgrace and ruin: I must prevent him.  Simper stands with a Handkerchief before her face. Kneeling. 
My dearest Betty, by all that's good and sacred;  

By our past Loves, and by our future Hopes;  
By those two Pledges of our eager Loves,  
That lie so round in native Innocence,  
Do not betray me to my deadly Foe,  
But step into this Closet.   
Here's the Key, I'll lock the door, and stiffly will maintain you're run away.— By heavens don't deny me.  Jon. 
For once I will not, though you don't deserve that usage from my hands.— But I am tender.  She goes into the Closet, he locks her in. Cau. 
The work is done, 'tis words must do the rest; And those shall not be wanting.  Enter Sir George, young Subtleman, Leucasia, Betty, Bigot, Mackdonnel, Constable and Watch. Subt. 
I can assure you, I saw Father Cautious's Man come from that place, and something of a large bulk seemed to be in his bosom, which I believe might be the golden Chalice you have lost.— Pray search for it there, and for the other Ornaments you have lost.  Const. 
Well, let me alone to search him.— I'll find it, though he pull his skin over it.  Big. 
O monstrum horrendum! Pray, Gentlemen, give me leave a little to expatiate upon the Subject; and lest I should be tedious to so worthy an Assembly, I will contract my whole Discourse into these twenty general Heads, with their respective Branches—  Sir Geo. 
Good Father Bigot, omit those twenty general Heads, and let the Fact be proved first, and then you may take time to prove the heimousness of the Crimes afterwards.— It is uncertain whether Father Cautious has stolen the things or no.—  Big. 
It is uncertain! But what if it be proved, first, That I am a Man, and that Man is a Christian, and that Christian a Catholic, and that Catholic one of good Education, and that Education in the house of a Priest, and that Priest an heavenly devout person: I say, To consider that such a Man should be guilty of such a Crime, it fills my mind with admiration!  Sir Geo. 
And it fills your mouth with Nonsense, pure, copious Nonsense. If the Chalice were mine, and as big as a Mountain, I would rather choose voluntarily to lose it, than to hear a long Oration in dispraise of Thievery.— As if words could make it worse than really it is: If this Fellow has stolen the Chalice, he's a Rogue and a Thief; if not, we are fools to suspect him.— Now that's to the purpose.  Subt. 
We shall soon be resolved.— If you find none of the Goods in his Bosom, pray, to be sure, search his Breeches.  Leu. 
Use all freedom imaginable in my Lodgings,— I would not have them a Sanctuary for any sort of Rogues, either Temporal or Spiritual.  Mack. 
Ay, but if the Villain has melted down the golden Chalice into silver Spoons and Thimbles, how a Deel shall we know it again?  Const. 
O, well enough, there's a Mark upon't.  Mack. 
Deel tauk me, I ne'er taught of dat; dear is a Mark upon it, and let him melt it down as soon as he please, we shall know it by de Mark.  Subt. to Betty. 
Did not you say that Cautious and his Man were in this Room?  Betty. 
They were here just now; I saw Mr. Cautious walk into the next Room.  Exeunt omnes praeter Sir Geo. Subt. to Sir Geo. 
Sir, I have taken this pains to convince you that that Father Cautious is as base an Hypocrite as ever canted in a Gown; That you shall see now, that his pretended Man, that lies with him, is a Woman, a notorious impudent Woman: and why then should you give such credit to so ill a man, as upon his Testimony to disinherit your only Son?  Sir Geo. 
My dear Son, thou art full of Impertinencies; for first you should endeavour, if you would speak to the purpose, to prove him a Liar; and thou, instead of that, dost endeavour very impertinently to prove him an Whoremaster, as if a little prudent Whoring would hinder him from speaking the Truth. Then, in the second place, I made my Will not so much for his Testimony, but because I heard thee with mine own ears contriving my death; so that I being the Evidence, thou must invalidate my Testimony, by proving me a Rogue, and a Rascal, and a Thief, or thou canst not speak to the purpose.  Subt. 
Sir, I beg nothing of you, but that you would believe me Innocent of such a Crime, till you have heard my Defence. What I said or did then, was purely to divert their importunity in soliciting me to turn presently to their side; and partly to make trial of their honesty, whether they would counsel me to do so black a deed. This Father Cautious discovers to you, though before he had solemnly swore, That he would not directly or indirectly do me any injury.  Sir Geo 
Sayest thou so, Boy? now thou speak'st to the purpose, and I could hearty wish myself fool enough to believe thee innocent.  Enter Leucasia, Betty, Father Bigot Mackdonnel, Fa. Cautious. Constable and Watch. Cau. 
I protest, Gentlemen and Brethren, I know not what you mean; my Man went from me last night, and I swear by the honour of my Priesthood, that I have not seen him since.  Betty. 
And I'll swear by the honour of my Maidenhead, That I saw him walking with you in this very Room but just now;— and methoughts too I saw him crying.  Cau. 
A likely thing indeed, that a Man should cry!— I tell you again, that I have not seen my Man since last night.— Sure they'll believe without searching.  Aside. Betty to Leu. 
I protest, Madam, I wonder with what confidence he can affirm this, when I saw his Man walking with him just now.  Cau. 
Pray consider, who is most fit to be be believed, one of my Sacred Character, or an ignorant Chambermaid that knows no better?  Leu. 
Sir, I have considered of it, and think the ignorant Chambermaid ought to be believed before the learned Priest: Nature teaches Truth, when Learning improves a man in all the arts of Falsehood.— Pray let the Room be searched.  They look up and down. Cau. 
What horrid Barbarity is this? Am I Person of so little Credit, and with my own Brethren too?— If you please, I'll depose upon Oath, that I have not seen my Man since last Night.  Big. 
The horror of the Sacrilegious Fact, does so stupify all my Senses, that I cannot give ear to the reasonable Requests of my Reverend Brother. We must find out the Author of this notorious Impiety, or become Partakers of his Crime.  Subt. 
I wonder you will not give greater Credit to this Reverend Priest, when I can give such an eminent Instance of his Truth and Fidelity. He swore to me, that he would do me no Injury directly or indirectly, and yet he has done it, and caused me to lose an Estate of 4000 l. per Annum; look there else.—  Throws down the Paper, Cautious reads it. Leu. 
A notorious Breach!  Cau. 
Nay, good Lady, be not too rash in you Censures.— I did not break my Promise to this Gentleman, as you do vainly imagine, as it will easily appear, if you consider the Words of the Promise. For, First, I swore I would do him no Injury, that is no Injustice; Injuria est quod sit contra jus no more I have not.— I have only caused him to be justly disinherited for contriving the Death of his Father.  Sir Geo. 
That's well, and to the purpose.—  Cau. 
So much for the thing.— Now for the Person acting. I, it is a Person in the Singular Number, as every Boy knows that has learned his Accidence.— So that the promise obliges me not to do him an Injury alone in my own Person, but it does not hinder me from doing it in the Person of his Father.  Big. 
My Brother distinguishes well.— It must needs be so.—  Mack. 
O! by my Shoul, there is abundance of Learning in that little head of thine.  Cau. 
Again let us consider the Person suffering him.— Man is a compound of Soul and Body. The estate is but an Appendix to the Person, so that the taking away that, is not in the strictness and propriety of Speech an Injury to the Man, but sometimes it is for his greater Advantage.—  Leu. 
A pretty Evasion this.—  Big. 
It is most profoundly argued.—  Mack. 
O, by my Shoul! If is haud not macke play Trowant, is might have been as great a Scholar as thish Maun.  Subt. 
Is this all you have to say for yourself?  Cau. 
No: I have something to say that is more material in my own Vindication.— I promised that I would not do him an Injury, directly or indirectly: No more I have not, for I have accomplished my Revenge, partly direct, and partly indirectly, in a middle way between both, and so am no ways guilty of the breach of Promise.—  Leu. 
I vow, this is a very pretty way of performing Promises; the wrong way.— You argue very well, and teach us never to believe you, because we never know how to understand you. Constable do your Office, and break open this Closet-door: I wonder it should be shut, when I left it open.  Cau. 
That is a rudeness, Lady, that ought not to be permitted in your House. It must not be done.  Leu. 
Then I will have it done for that very reason. I love to do things that I ought not.  They break open the Door, and pull out Simper. Const. 
Look here the Rogue is, this Priest is a confounded Liar.  Mack. 
O, by my Shoul! Brother you should not make Lie so much. I am sorry for it.  Big. 
Indeed, I must needs say, this looks like a Scandal;— yet I will still believe that my Brother speaks the truth, though no Body can perceive it.  Sir Geo. 
Pshaw, pshaw, a lie is a lie.— I say, it is the most impudent notorious lie that ever was told.  Leu. 
I beg your Pardon Uncle.— I no more believe this to be the most impudent, than I believe it to be first.— O! this indelible Character is an excellent thing.— How simple should one of us look, if taken in so notorious a falsehood: and how well it becomes him.— Methinks he does it with a great deal of Grace and Ornament.  Cau. 
Charge me not with a Crime of that horrid Nature. I abhor the very name of Lying.  Sir Geo. 
And lest the thing, dost thou not? Is not the case plain?  Subt. 
Leave this Discourse, and search for the Chalice.  They offer to search. Jon. 
You'll lose your Pains.— I do confess myself a wretched, miserable Woman deluded by that Man, and shut up in the Closet by him, to prevent the discovery of my Sex.  Cries. Leu. 
Ha', ha', ha'; a rich Discovery.  Subt. 
Come search no further.— The Chalice is removed by a plot of mine, to make this discovery.— Now, if Father Cautious, you have your Revenge, and I mine, I think we may now be Friends.— This Gentleman shall be witness to our new Agreement.  Jon. To Cautious. 
No, I will find a place to hid my shame; farewell. And if you hear of me again, 'twill be in Vengeance.  Exit, hanging down her Head. Const. 
Then we are discharged?  Subt. 
You are.  Exeunt Const. and Watch. Mack. 
O, by my Shoul, and Shaint Pautrick! If my Brother Cautious was not a very good Cautholick, whaut a sad Fellow he would be?  Big. 
Nay, indeed Brother, this seems very scandalous and prejudicial to the public Good; and if this Auditory would please to give me leave, I would make it appear to be so in One hundred and ten Particulars.—  Sir Geo. 
Good Mr. Biggot let your Particulars alone.— A lie is a lie.— All the Rhetoric in the World cannot make it a Windmill, or a Hand-Granado—  Cau. 
Gentlemen, I do wonder you should charge me with a Crime of that horrid Nature.— I abhor Lying, as much as Covetousness or Murder. I said, indeed, That I had not seen my Man since last Night, and there is truth you see in that, for the Person that you took for my Man, confesses herself a Woman.  All. 
Ha', ha', ha', ha'.—  Cau. 
Then again, I said, That I had not seen my Man since last Night, that is, I had not seen him with an Intention to tell you of it; so there is no falsehood in these words, only I did not express my Mind quite so full as I might have done.—  Mack. 
Well, this Cautious is an excellent Scholar. I never should have thought of this.—  Big. 
Nay, my Brother is right in that.— His only fault was, that he did not express his mind fully.  Cau 
Then again,— pray observe the words of my Affirmation.— I told you, that I had not seen my Man since last Night, and pray, how should I? Can I make a Man? Or can a Man be properly said to be mine? A Servant may be mine, but a Man cannot. And now, pray, reflect how unjustly ye have charged me with the Crime of Lying, and repent of it.  Leu. 
Nay, indeed, Sir George, you and your Son are apt to be too Censorious: I warrant you are apt to think, that this Gentleman kept a She-bed-fellow out of some ill Design, whereas they only aimed at a Spiritual Society, and are as Innocent as the Family of Love.  Sir Geo. 
I do indeed believe it.  Subt. 
And I will swear it,— provided Mr. Cautious will teach me a little of his Art.  Cau. 
Come, ye are profane Persons.— There is nothing got by such Company.  Is going away. Mack. 
Ay, they be very dull to think Father Cautious would mauke lie.  Big. 
My Zeal will burst forth into some indecent Expressions.— Let us withdraw.  Exeunt three. Manent Sir Geo. Subt. Leu. Betty. Leu. 
I perceive, dear Uncle, you have been kind to me in prejudice of your Son, whom I beg, now, you would please to restore to your Favour.  Sir Geo. 
Hold thy Tongue my pretty, witty Niece, or I shall suspect that thy honesty has outrun thy wit. I hate a Felo de se; to speak against your own Interest, is very unnatural, and for the most part, extremely impertinent.  Subt. 
I shall not prompt the Lady to it.— The motion does proceed altogether from her spontaneous goodness.  Leu. 
It does, and shall do so: but it must be upon condition that you do not only forsake that Gang, but revenge the injury received, upon the whole Society.  Sir Geo. 
Gramercy, brave Girl;— now thou speak'st to the purpose, and I am inclined to hear thee.  Subt. 
Madam, let me know your Commands; and if I don't execute them, let me be rid by the Priests all day, and the Hag at night, till I look as simply as Cautious at the discovery of his Punk.  Sir Geo. 
I faith, Son, thou art in the right way.— Revenge the injury to some purpose;— and it will be one step into my favour.  Leu. 
Look you here are two Letters; one to Mrs. Counterfeit, and another to Mr. Turnabout.— Fellow me, and you shall receive further directions.  Subt. 
With all my heart.  Sir Geo. 
And mine too.— Now I hope to see some mischief.  Exeunt omnes. Scene changes to Politico's Lodgings. Enter Politico and Lord Briton, talking earnestly. Pol. 
I wonder your Lordship should insist so much upon Numbers, as if there were any strength in divided and unarmed Numbers: can uncemented Sand grow into a Wall? or would your Lordship fear your Enemy, when you had his Sword in your own hand?  L. Brit. 
Your Reverence mistakes me— I am as great a stranger to fear as yourself; but still I do not love to extinguish all rational apprehensions of danger: Divided numbers are not of the strength that united are, where the quantity is equal; but you do not well conclude from thence, That they are of no strength at all: There are Mountains of divided Sand, that can resist the stroke of a Cannon, and overwhelm the best disciplined Troop in Europe: And though I should not fear a single Enemy, if I had his Sword in my hand; yet I should think myself in an ill condition, if I were assaulted by two or three hundred naked men of equal strength and courage with myself.— This is our case;— We have 200 to one against us, and that seems to me to out-ballance all other Advantages—  Pol. 
That is because your Lordship has not considered the Policy of foreign Courts, as I have done. What vast numbers do they keep in Slavery, grievous insupportable Slavery, by little or no force at all!—  L. Britt. 
That is, because the People love to keep themselves so, which our Countrymen do not: Whether they are born Slaves by some peculiar Influence of the Heavens, or whether Custom has made that Yoke to be easy, or whether that servile disposition is derived from Father to Son, by some unperceivable manner of Tradition;— the Cause is uncertain, but the Effect is plain.— But to think Englishmen to be easily kept in subjection, because foreigners can, is as good Logic, as to conclude a Lion dares not fight, because a Sheep is a timorous Creature.  Pol. 
I perceive your Lordship is not skilled in the Politics; I can give you several reasons why there is no danger in the dreaded number of the Heretics: For first, they want an Head; and what, alas! is Body without an Head? There's one for you.  L. Britt. 
Your Argument is Metaphorical, but not conclusive.— It is true, these popular Insurrections that are raised by the Power or Interest of one particular Man, are soon quelled, when the Head is once removed; for the Cause taken away, the Effect ceases. But where the cause of discontent is general, an Head is never wanting, for many hands make light work.  Pol. 
Then again '— The Heretics want Council and Conduct: Alas! all their Great Men are bred in the English Court, and know nothing of the French and Italian Finesses: There are no men in the world, excepting those of my Order, that understand the true Methods and Principles of Government. Alas! your English Lords are troubled with scruples of Conscience, and pretend to tenderness and good nature, and think themselves always obliged to stick to the immutable Rules of Honour; and talk of Just and Unjust, and I know not what whimsies: They don't consider, that it is impossible for a Statesman to accomplish any great Designs, that boggles at any sort of means that are conducing to his End, though never so unjust and cruel.—  L. Britt. 
I wish you do not find those Lords, which you so much despise, to be Masters of more Policy than is consistent with the good of the Catholic Cause.  Pol. 
Pshaw! Pshaw! never fear it.— When all's done, we have an Army to defend us.  L. Britt. 
An Army sympathizes with the major part of the Nation out of which they are taken; and what raises Jealousies in the One, is sure to raise Discontents in the Other.— Heaven send we may never stand in need of that.  Pol. 
Pshaw! pshaw! your Lordship is too timorous.  L. Britt. angry. 
No man, but what's defended by a Gown, dares tell me so.— Once more, farewell. And when you see all England in a flame, yourselves pursued to the waterside, and offering all your Treasure for a Boat; when Catholics are driven from their Houses, and made the Object of a public scorn, remember than I had no hand in this.  Pol. 
And when you see the Triumphs of our Cause, all bending low unto the See of Rome, the Heretics or forced to comply, or roving up and down the world for Bread, but finding none: when this you live to see, remember well that mine is the contrivance; 'tis I proposed the End, and found the Means; shaped the Tools, and perfected the Work; and mine's the Honour.—  L. Britt. 
May it be so.— I leave the Honour and the Danger unto you.— Farewell, I've done my best.  Exit. Pol. 
Well, this Lord is honest, but Master of extreme wrong Notions in Policy, as if he had been bred under some Calvinistical Pedant, that never read Machiavelli.— But I must now lay aside thoughts of State-affairs, and mind the grand Concerns of softer Love. Leucasia's eyes have shot a fire into my breast, which nothing but herself can extinguish: If I can enjoy her in the person of a discarded Officer, I shall look upon it as my greatest finess.— For as there is greater art in making a Chain for a Flea than an Elephant, so there is something more skill in subduing the heart of a Woman, than in subverting a Kingdom.  Enter Mrs. Counterfeit. 
O Mrs. Counterfeit, you're welcome, most hearty welcome.— What news?  Count. 
O, the most obliging News in the World.— Leucasia is yours, your Plots take to admiration.— I vow you don't act fairly, to outwit a Woman in her own Profession.— Read this  Gives him a Letter he reads. 
The account you give of that Noble Person, and his suffering in so good a Cause, will not permit me to be cruel.— I honour such Noble Patriots; and if it is his desire to make known to me any part of his grievances, he shall find an honourable and kind reception from  
Yours, Leucasia.  Pol. 
Why, look you, Mrs. Sergeant, did not I tell you that nothing could resist my Policy? Here's a Lady that hates our Religion, and in particular my Order and Person: Now who but myself could extract good out of so much evil, and make her aversion a step to enjoy her?  Count. 
If you are as quick in Execution, as fine in Projection, that will soon be done. Or if you should be put to the trouble to ravish, or so, if opportunity favours, your disguise is your security.  Pol. 
There thou hitt'st the Nail on the head: my disguise is ready, you shall go in and see it fitted.  Count. 
I wait your Commands; but you must go incognito, without any Equipage.—  Pol. 
Pray, Mrs. Sergeant, leave the contriving part to me, I think I am Master of that.  Count. 
And you must be sure to aggravate the Ingratitude of Priests and Jesuits.  Pol. 
What still moving beyond your station? must the Spring rise higher than the Fountainhead? have you not learned all this from me? and do you pretend to teach?  Count. 
No, indeed, I have not learned all from you; my Mother, and my good Grandmother, and my Aunt, and my great Aunt, taught me a great deal, and I have had 50 years' experience; so that you might trust a little to my Judgement.  Pol. 
Then you will pretend to direct me?  Count. 
No, an't please your Reverence, I will not pretend to that: You do excel me and all mankind in the mysterious arts of Love; I must most humbly acknowledge it to be so.  Pol. 
Then follow me; and remember the contriving part is mine; the executive we must share between us.  Exeunt. Scene changes to Leucasia's Lodgings. Enter Leucasia and Turnabout. Leu. 
You see how far I have condescended to cure your capricious humour; though I must confess your carriage to me, and your hare-brained Jealousy, does deserve my scorn, or rather is below it.—  Turn. 
I confess my error, and am ready to redeem your lost favour with my Sword. What is it you will command?  Leu. 
A certain pretended Lord is pleased to think me a very fit person to be his Whore. Now what would you do in vindication of my Honour?  Turn. 
Oh very little.— Perhaps I might only cut his Throat, or whip him through the Lungs or some such trifle:— Neither more nor less—  Leu. 
No, that's too much.— But I suppose that if he should refuse to draw, you would grudge him the pains to kick him, or assist my Servants in tossing him in a Blanket.—  Turn. 
No, by heavens I would not. Good Madam, tell me, When, where, and how I shall serve you, you shall see with what zeal I'll do it.  Leu. 
You must retire immediately into this Closet, and not stir till the Signal be given. This is the least Penance I can impose for your Jealousy, and other high misdemeanours; and I suppose herein I am not so rigid as the Fathers.  Turn. 
Fie! Fie! Good Madam, tell me no more of the Fathers, they are mere Babies and Children: I care no more for the Fathers, than I do for the Indian Bramines, or Turkish Mufti, unless it be for my own ends; for though that Beldame Counterfeit was pleased to give your Ladyship an account that they intended to fool me, yet I can assure you I find as great encouragement as any New Convert of 'em all.  Leu. 
I will tell thy true Character: Thy Love makes thee greedy of Estate and Honour, and the greediness of Estate and Honour make thee love so much the more eagerly; now to cure this vicious circulation of humours, I will first make thee weary of poaching after the Fathers, by rendering thee odious to them; and then, as for Love, you know the last remedy for that.  Turn. 
Phu! phu! Politico is so much my Friend, thou canst never render me odious to him.  Leu. 
Yes, I will, in the space of half an hour.  Turn. 
'Tis not an Age and a half can do it. Will you venture your Maidenhead upon that Bet?  Leu. 
Yes, I would, if you had one to stake against it.  Turn. 
Prithee what dost talk of one, I have had an hundred in my time.  Leu. 
Ay, but they are now all vanished, and become as invisible as your 20 Manors.  Turn. 
That's true indeed. But to be serious; if you have a mind to convert me, you may find a nearer way; it is but taking me to yourself for ever, and then I will soon bid adieu to all the Gang of pedantical Fathers.  Leu. 
But my resolution is to make thee weary of that Society, without making use of that dangerous Matrimonial Remedy. And if I do it not, then say my wit has failed me.  Turn. 
And if you do redeem me from that Gang without paying yourself for my Ransom, then say that I am not Master of Wit, Resolution, Common Sense, or Reason.  Leu. 
Agreed.  Enter Betty. Betty. 
Madam, here's a Person of Quality at the door in a Coach.  Leu. 
That's the man, bid him come up.— Now, Mr. Turnabout, if you mean ever to purchase my Love by using him very scurvily, retire into the next Room, and stir not unless he offer force, or I give the signal.  Turn. 
Let me alone for that.  Goes into the Closet. Leu. 
Now this fool Politico will think that I don't know him in his disguise; but heaven be praised I am ready for his reception.  Enter Politico in a very rich Commander's Habit. Pol. 
Madam, I'm come to throw myself at your feet for pardon.— I presume Mrs. Counterfeit has acquainted you with my Person and Character.  Leu. 
My Lord, if your intentions are not criminal, it is superfluous to ask a Pardon. Besides, the Character I received of your Person, and the account of your Sufferings in so good a Cause, place you above all formalities of that nature. I have rather reason to admire at your Lordship's condescension to one so much your Inferior in Quality and Honour.  Pol. 
I must confess, none ever served the Protestant Cause with greater Zeal and Integrity; and this drew upon me the envy of Politico, Bigot, and others, which occasioned my removal from Court; but still my very Ruins are above the pity of the very best of them, and it lies in your Ladyship's Power to build up the highest degree of human felicity.  Leu. 
My Lord, I can never enough reflect upon the baseness and ingratitude of those Priests towards your Lordship and other worthy Patriots: but I am filled with horror and amazement, that a Person of your Worth, Courage, Conduct and Fidelity, should be undermined by such a rascally Crew of fantastical Priests as Politico, Bigot, Cautious, and Mackdonnel! a Gang of whimsical, nonsensical Blockheads, that look as oddly in the Court, as a Skull in the Presence-Chamber; whose whole skill lies in Books, and that too no farther than Title-pages; and perhaps, if some special Roguery does require it, they may proceed to the Index, and so begin that, as they do all other things, at the wrong end. And—  Pol. 
Nay, good Lady, proceed no farther; I forgive my Enemies; and you know my business here is Love, and not Revenge.— Now must I hear myself railed at, and say nothing.  Aside. Leu. 
My Lord, I cannot but admire your Generosity in forgiving your Enemies; but I will take the liberty to tell you, that They, and especially Politico, are of all things my aversion.  Pol. 
But yet, I hope, you will grant that Politico is the very best, the top and flower of them all.  Leu. 
I vow, my Lord, I am of a quite contrary Opinion; for first, as to his person—  Pol. 
Nay, good Lady, let his Person alone, it will never hurt you.  Leu. 
I will assure you, the remembrance of his Person does hurt me this very moment, it was such a filthy spectacle, Spits.— His Mien and Air so affectedly odd and boyish; his Eyes Lustful, and, if I may say it, Goatish; his Hands clumsy; his Head lumpish; nothing good but his Voice, which did a little resemble with your Lordships, and make an atonement for his other Enormities.— Sure this will sting him.  Aside. Pol. 
Come, Madam, be not so Satirical upon the famous Politico, though my Enemy: the Habit of an Order does oftentimes disfigure a most excellent Shape and Mien: but be that what it will, you must needs grant Politico to be the greatest Statesman in the World, and a man of the finest Contrivance in Europe.— All his Enemies confess him to be a wise man.  Leu. 
I know he esteems himself so, but the world has a different Opinion of him. Would a wise man throw off such a worthy gallant Gentleman as yourself, that are steady by a Principle of Duty, to make room for mercenary Slaves, that know no higher Equity than Interest? Would a wise man encourage Lying, Dissimulation and Hypocrisy in others, when he knows not how soon they may make use of the same Arts to his own Destruction? Would a wise Man punish or deride others for their Constancy, Loyalty, and Fidelity, to secure a Government which needs must perish without them? Do you think, I say, my Lord, all this to be the part of a wise Man?  Pol. 
Good Lady talk no more of Politico, my business is Love.  Leu. 
And how can I more effectually express my Love to your Person and Merits, than by railing at those Enemies of yours, that have cast such a Cloud upon them? Good, my Lord, join with me in a few innocent Curses against Father Politico, and all his Gang, that have done you this insupportable Injury.—  Pol. 
Pray, Madam, excuse me from Cursing; I came hither for the blessing of your Love, and must myself be cursed without it.  Leu. 
No excuses, my Lord, it will lessen the Opinion I have of the greatness of your Spirit. Come, you shall invent some new Curses with me.  Pol. 
My mind now is so full of Love, that I can invent nothing that has the least relish of hatred. Dear Madam, excuse me.  Leu. 
Then, if you will not invent, you shall leave that to me, and only conclude with an hearty Amen.  Pol. 
I wonder that your Ladyship will offer to impose upon me the Office of a Parish-Clerk. How shall I be able to give a tuneable Accent to Amen?  Leu. 
Your Lordship is modest.— I know you have an excellent Base, and can't choose but do it very well.  Pol. 
What an unconscionable Woman is this, to expect that I should curse myself, and my Brethren.  Aside. Leu. 
I'll show you the way; a little cursing will make you relish the sweetness of Love the better.— May they be always contriving, and never bring any thing to effect. May they employ none but Knaves and Fools, and may those at last deceive them; may they heap up vast Treasures, and Porters enjoy them; may they fall into an immoderate love of themselves, and into hatred of all Mankind besides; and if ever any of them have a Mistress, may she be Beautiful, Rich, Virtuous, and Heretical, and that will be plague enough.— Good my Lord say, Amen.  Pol. 
Indeed, Madam, I have a Cold, I can't do it with a Grace.  Leu. 
'Tis no matter for Grace, do but speak it hearty.  Pol. 
Amen.  Very faintly. Leu. 
May all their Plots be too improbable to take effect, and not improbable enough to please as a Fiction in a Romance or Novel. But may they have the happiness to partake of that vicious Mediocrity, which is good for just nothing.— You must say, Amen.  Pol. 
Amen.  Faintly. Leu. 
Well, I perceive your superabounding Goodness, does make you pronounce Amen very faintly.— I will therefore desist from Cursing; and I have Ten thousand more to utter, and none of them undeserved.  Pol. 
A pox of this Amour, I am weary of it. Aside.— Madam, if you would curse my Enemies, the best way is to make me happy with your Love.— It will burst their hearts with envy.  Leu. 
If I had any happiness to confer, your request would be reasonable; but I fear you are come out of one misfortune, with intention to fall into a greater. Matrimony, if that be your design, cures no Distempers of the Mind, but by inflicting greater. It is a corrosive, that may deaden the Flesh in order to Amputation, but it seldom effects a Cure that is better than the Disease.  Pol. 
Tho Matrimony cannot, there is something in your Ladyship's power that can. Madam, I am a Soldier, and you know Men of our Profession fly more directly to enjoyment than others do, over all those Forms and Obstacles invented by Fools and Platonic Lovers.  Leu. 
Then I perceive at length your Lordship's meaning; you came hither instead of telling your Sufferings, with a design to Whore me.— Pray, my Lord, speak plainly, did you come hither with a design to Whore me?  Aside. Pol. 
Madam, you present the most pleasant thing in the World, in the most hideous Dress. Give it a softer Name, and the business is half done.  Leu. 
Whilst I thought you Virtuous, and a Sufferer for your Country's Honour, I must confess, I had a profound respect for your Person; but now—  Pol. 
Ay, now you may boast, that you have conquered him whom Sovereign Princes could not.  Leu. 
When Lust has turned a Man into a Beast, there can be no great triumph in such a Conquest.— Mrs. Counterfeit, is as much mistaken in her little Policies, as Father Politico in his great ones.  Pol. 
These struggle of Modesty, choke all true Pleasure in the Birth: It is more generous to yield without previous Hypocrisy.  Leu. 
I am not used to Discourses, of this nature; adieu.  She's going. Pol. 
Nay, Madam, we must not part so.  Steps to the Door, and locks it. Leu. 
Then you intent Violence.  Pol. 
Ay, but the most ravishing,— that ever was experienced by Woman.  Leu. 
Sure you will not put me to the trouble to call my Servants to my aid.  Pol. 
It is in vain; they are as secure as yourself.  Leu. 
Sure you are not so much a Villain!  Pol. 
If I am not, you need not fear me. The next Room, Madam, is a more pleasant scene for Love.  Leu. 
Sure Turnabout will not fail me now,— if he does I'm undone— aside— She knocks.  Pol. 
'Tis all in vain.  He offers to carry her out. Enter Turnabout. Turn. 
What means this noise? Villain unhand the Lady.  Vnhands her. Pol. 
What, my Rival Turnabout!— I'm undone.  Aside. Turn. 
How dare you offer violence to a Lady in her own Lodgings?  Exit Leucasia. Pol. 
You call that Violence which was only a little innocent freedom.  Turnabout draws. Turn. 
You seem to be a Man of Quality, and a Soldier, you have begun an Injury like a Villain, and must defend it like a Man,— Draw.  Pol. 
What shall I do now? I know no more how to Fight than a Girl of Fifteen, that is only skilled in the Innocent use of her Nails.  Aside. Turn. 
Come, Sir, stand not amazed; Draw, or you're a Dead Man.  Pol. 
I am not afraid to Draw, nor unable to chastife your saucy intrusion— But I hope you will not force me to that rudeness in a Lady's Apartment, whose Honour you pretend to maintain.  Turn. 
You were not afraid of a greater rudeness than this, and therefore have no reason to scruple a less: Sir, I say— Draw.  Pol. 
All the words in the World shall not make me transgress the Rules of Decency and Order.—  Turn. 
Then shall this do it; kicks him. Or this, again.  Pol. 
No, Sir, I have more breeding than to incur an absurdity of so high a nature,— But you shall repent of this; Politico is my Friend,— you know his Power.  Turn. 
Damn Politico— Do you wear a Sword, and shelter yourself under the Protection of a whimsical Gown-man?— Draw, or I have another expedient for you.  Pol. 
If I Draw, I am certainly killed, and Ten thousand of the best Plots in the World are most certainly spoiled.— I must owe protection to Nonresistance, and Passive-obedience.  Aside. 
I will not Draw— for I said I would not.  Turn. 
Then I'll try another experiment on you: I have an Engine shall toss you higher than a flying Chariot in Bartholomew-Fair.  Knocks. Enter Footman. Foot. 
Your pleasure, Sir?  Turn. 
Four of you bring in a Blanket with all Expedition.  Pol. 
Well, Politico will revenge this injury.  Turn. 
I tell thee again, Politico's an Ass and a Fool; I myself have made him a Fool this two months.  Enter Footmen with a Blanket. Turn. 
Bravely done my Lads— Let's carry that Rascal into the Hall, and mount him.  They lay Hands on him. Pol. to Turn. 
Do you know who I am? Have a care what you do.  Turn. 
I know thee to be a Coward; I believe thou art a Villain: and I vilely suspect thou hast something in thee of the Fool, and that's enough for my purpose. To Foot. Carry him away.  Pol. 
You will repent of it— Oh! Murder, Murder.  They carry him off by Force. Enter Leucasia, Betty, Sir Geo. Bigot, Cautious and Mackdonnel. Leu. 
Gentlemen, I sent for you hither, to make known the shame of the famed Politico, who came hither in disguise to rob me of my Honour; and I hope I have given you such ocular demonstration, as has left no room for doubt.  Sir Geo. 
Thou art a brave Girl, I faith, I love revenge and mischief when it is to the purpose.  Mack. 
Yesh by my shoul, and I do love mischief wid all my heart, when dear is no hearme in in it.  Big. 
It cannot be that Politico should be guilty of such a crime, who has laboured so abundantly in the propagation of the Catholic Cause; It must be the delusion of some evil spirit, that has put on the shape and habit of Politico, to bring this disgrace on our Cause and Order: Let me come near him with my Exorcisms, and I will make him confess as much.—  Leu. 
If he should confess himself a Devil, he would confess the truth.—  Sir Geo 
Superstition is incurable; and blind Zeal does seldom recover its sight:— Has not my Niece shown you the Jewels sent by his own Hand?  Cau. 
A good Man may sometimes be taken in a fault; but to be so very prodigal, as to give away Jewels of that value, is a wickedness that I think to be unpardonable.—  Big. 
Come Brother, let's go and comfort Politico under this disgrace.  Cau. 
Ay, that's better than to stay here, to become spectators of our own— Besides I've Money to receive.  Big. 
Farewell, and remember none ever provoked our Order unrevenged.  Cau. 
And don't think the World will believe this scandal; for we will swear it is false.  Mack. 
Yesh, it is falsh, very falsh.  Leu. 
What is false?  Mack. 
What is falsh,— by my shoul I've forgot vat is dat vas falsh; but I'm sure it vas something.  Leu. 
Ha', ha', ha', ha'.  Cau. 
Come let's repair to Politico, it is vain to stay here.  Exeunt Three Priests. Enter Turnabout. Turn. 
Now, Madam, I hope my business is quite done, I've gained my own ends by Politico, who seems to be all melted into Love with my charming conversation; and I've helped your Ladyship in distress, which gives me some pretensions unto your favour.  Leu. 
It is natural for Men to err, and I perceive you are not altogether free from that human frailty; you build much upon your friendship with Politico, which is now at an end; you must expect nothing from him but Revenge and Malice; for he is the very person in disguise, whom you have so plentifully kicked and tossed in a Blanket.  Turn. 
A Pox on't, 'tis impossible!  Sir Geo. 
Good Mr. Turnabout, speak not impertinently, I do know it is so.  Turn. 
'Ounds this is a Trick I never thought on.  Leu. 
Since you doubt, follow me, and I'll soon convince you.  Turn. 
I'll wait on you— but I am all amazement.  Exeunt Sir Geo. 
And I will go and try one Plot, as old as I am. Here Jack,  Knocks. Enter Servant. Seru. 
Sir?  Sir Geo. 
Go immediately to Kensington, and turn my Horse lose with Bridle and Saddle, raise a report that I am missing, and, as you believe, Murdered; and to be sure, you Dog, be secret: Or—  Seru. 
Lord, Sir, How shall I tell such a Lie! I never told a Lie in my Life, an't please your Honour.  Sir Geo. 
You Dog, you can tell nothing else. Do it, or I'll cut your Throat.  Seru. 
Since your Honour will have it so, I'll try.  Exit. Sir Geo. 
By this device I hope to understand how far my Son is infected with Jesuitical Principles— For if he is far gone, I shall discard him for ever.  
Youth quickly learns the Vices of the Town, Swiftly they come and swiftly pass away; But crimes infused by the more sober Gown, Are much more black, and make a longer stay.  Exit.   


ACT V.  The Scene changes to Politico's Lodgings. Enter Politico, Bigot, Cautious, Mackdonnel. Pol. 
ARe ye sure than Leucasia knew me?  Big. 
She called us to be spectators of your shame.  Pol. 
Was ever man thus baffled in Amour, by the sole malignity of Fortune?— for you must needs grant that the Plot was well laid.  Big. 
Be not dejected, this Blanketing is a lively representation of Great men's Fortunes, sometimes up and sometimes down; There is never any great Exaltation, but there is danger of a sudden Depression; this you knew before to be true by Speculation, and now receive a confirmation from palpable Experience.  Cau. 
Ay, but to be kicked up and down like a Football, that was rude.  Big. 
The Poets and Philosophers compare the Life of Man to a Game at Tennis, The World is the Tennis-court, and men are the Balls which the Fates toss up and down with Rackets: But great men, like great Footballs, are kicked up and down with greater violence. The stock was rude, but the emblem is good and useful.  Pol. 
Alas, I don't value a little Blanketing, or Kicking; But to have a Plot disappointed— that grieves me.  Mack. 
By my shoul, my dear Joy, the dishappointment is not so great; for though thou didst not get into the Lady's Bed, thou didst get possession of the Blanket, and that is something. Ha', ha'.—  Pol. 
And do you think that Turnabout knew me?  Cau. 
Not then,— but now I presume he does.  Pol. 
Then will I be revenged on him.  Big. 
But how?  Pol. 
By giving him good words, raising his hopes, making him spend the remainder of his small fortune in expectation of great things; and then doing for him just nothing at all.— And then for Leucasia.—  Big. 
Ay, prithee what canst contrive against that pestilent Heretic.  Pol. 
I have one of the finest Plots in the World, if thou wilt but assist me.  Big. 
To be revenged on Leucasia, is to do good to the public; and I will refuse no labour to accomplish that.  Pol. 
Then this it is,— You hear the Rabble are in some violent commotions against the Men of our Persuasion and Order?  Cau. 
So great, that I have hid all my Trunks in your dark Cellar.  Pol. 
You, Bigot, shall put on a Porter's Frock, and excite them to all manner of Indignities.—  Big. 
Against whom?  Pol. 
Against all Romanists, and especially against myself.  Big. 
And what then?  Pol. 
Why, I will repair, under pretence of shelter, to Leucasia's Lodgings— And there will scatter Books and Pictures that are peculiar to our way; than you shall bring down the Rabble to search for me, precisely at Nine of the Clock; I will be gone before that time, and so you with your wont Eloquence, shall make the whole storm light upon Leucasia.  Big. 
Brother, you must excuse me, it is not for the good of the Cause.  Pol. 
Brother, you are mistaken; I can demonstrate it to be the surest and securest way to promote it.  Big 
You are the Oracle of Policy, I will go about it presently: But let your Servant help me to a disguise.  Pol. 
'Tis ready for you.  Big. 
Adieu.  Exiturus Manet. Enter Sir George Subtleman in the Habit of an Hermit, with a Beard down to his Waste, followed by an Indian Boy. Mack. 
hay day! By my shoul here is Shaint Pautrick come to she us.  Sir Geo. 
Salvete fratres venerandi, Pray which of you bears the venerable name of Politico?  Big. 
Tu quoque salvus sis venerande Pater, This is the Gentleman.  Sir Geo. 
Is this the famous Politico, whose Fame is spread through all the habitable part of the World!— Is this the Wise, the Learned, the Divine Politico!  Pol. 
I am that Politico of whom the World is pleased undeservedly to speak very great things, and far above my merits. A little feigned modesty does well.  Aside. Sir Geo. 
Then blessed are these eyes that see the Man. And blest these ears of mine that hear him speak. And blest these Legs and Feet that brought me hither. My Vow is now performed, I'll shave my Beard, and live at rest: But first, I must have leave to kiss the Hem of your Garment.  Kneeling: Pol. 
By no means— That's too much!  Sir Geo. 
Hinder me not Kisses his Coat. Bless me, what Virtue flows into my Body and mind from hence! Well, now I am happy.  Weeps for joy. Cau. 
This old fellow is so very condescending, that I fear he comes a begging.  Pol. 
Pray reverend Father tell us the reason of your transport, and whence you come.  Sir Geo. 
These Fourscore years America has been my constant place of Prayers and Residence; And had been so till now, but that the fame of your great deeds has drawn me from my so far distant Cell, to see a person that the World adores.  Pol. 
I perceive by this, that I am very famous in America.  Cau. 
If you come from America, Father, I presume you bring good store of Gold.  Sir Geo. 
Gold I despise; I came to learn and see the Wisdom of this Man.  Pol. 
But how came you to hear so much of my fame in America?  Sir Geo. 
How should I hear that the Sun shines, or that the Stars bedeck the Canopy of Heaven?— You are known as much as they, and equally admired.  Pol. 
That's much at so great a distance!—  Sir Geo. 
What is more swift than Fame? There's not a Nurse, but prays her tender offspring may attain the Wisdom of Politico— Not a Father that gives his blessing, but uses this, Love— May thine be great as Politico's.  Pol. 
'Tis wandrous strange!  Sir Geo. 
They build Churches to your Name, and have an Holiday, that they honour your Wisdom with, and is called, O Sapientia.  Pol. 
All this may be true; But yet to prevent all scruples, I desire you to show some Letters Testimonial from the Provincial of our Order there, or other persons.  Sir Geo. 
Am I suspected then?  Big. 
Be not angry, Reverend Sir, you are not suspected; but his Reverence must keep close to his Rule, not to admit Strangers without Letters Testimonial.  Sir Geo. 
How should I have Letters Testimonial, that have lived in an uninhabitable Island near the Southern Pole, an Hermetical Life these sixty years.  Pol. 
But then how did you hear of my fame? There I nicked the Old Gentleman.  Aside. Sir Geo. 
We Hermits know all that is done, by Revelation, as well as if we saw it with our eyes; How else could we endure so many years of tedious solitude.  Big. 
Nay, Brother, it is certain he might know it by Revelation.  Pol. 
Not improbable, being so good a Man.  Sir Geo. 
I have not seen the face of Man or Beast these Fourscore years:— Yet I can tell some secrets of your Life,— Whispers Pol. Is not that true?  Pol. 
Most certainly true:— Thou art a Divine Person.  Mack. 
And when you lived alone so long in America, Good my Dear Joy, tell me what Company did you use to keep?  Sir Geo. 
My Dog, my Cat, and sometimes for diversions sake, a Monkey.  Mack. 
And did not you go sometimes to smoak a Pipe at your Neighbours?  Sir Geo. 
How could I, when I had none there?  Mack. 
By my shoul, my Dear Joy, I did quite make forget that.  Pol. 
How long is it since you took this Vow to Visit me?  Sir Geo. 
About Fifty years.  Pol. 
That is strange, I am but 40 years old.  Sir Geo. 
A Pox on his gravity, it made me mistake his Age. To Pol. O Sir, I knew how Great you would be, long before your Conception.  Big. 
By special Revelation?  Sir Geo. 
Yes, by special Revelation.  Cau. 
I'll be Hanged if this Fellow does not come to Beg, to Cheat, or Steal.  Aside. Pol. 
Well, it is joyful news to me, that my poor endeavours do meet with that encouragement in the remoter parts of the World: for let me die, if some are not so brutish here, as to censure me for an Hairbrained, Imprudent Statesman.—  Sir Geo. 
They are more stupid than the meanest Animals in our Parts; for the very Parrots are taught to say, Wise Pol, Prudent Pol, A Cup of Sack for Pol.  Pol. 
It is the nature of the English to despise all Political Wisdom, because it is a Foreign Commodity: But I perceive the Americans have better Judgement.  Sir Geo. 
Oh! abundantly.  Pol. 
Have you other business?  Sir Geo. 
What greater business than to see your Wisdom?  Pol. 
Since that's your end, I'll make you sensible Fame's not Liar.  Sir Geo. 
Yes, I have one request more, which I hope to obtain by the intercession of these worthy Gentlemen.  Big. 
Give it a Name, and you shall see our readiness.  Sir Geo. 
The Inhabitants of those Parts, as I partly understand it by Revelation, and partly was told in the Ship, are troubled with a Giddiness in the Head, and other Distempers of the Brain, from which they think they can never be delivered, but by the Application of something taken from your body; which I therefore humbly beg you would bestow upon me, for it will be extremely reverenced in those Parts.  Big. 
A most Pious request; It must not be denied.  Cau. aside to Bigot, 
I told you this Fellow came to beg.  Pol. 
What is it they would have?  Sir Geo. 
A Glove, a Nightcap, or a pair of Shoes.  Pol. 
My Man shall deliver you the best pair I have.  Sir Geo. 
No: I had rather have a pair your Reverence had worn longest; there is likely to be most Virtue in them.  Pol. 
I don't believe it can do them any good; but yet the Vulgar are to be indulged and gratified in such designs, right or wrong.  Aside. 
You shall have what ever you will of that nature.  Sir Geo. 
Then be pleased to Honour your Humble Servant with an old Handkerchief; for the people of those parts have a great Veneration for all Effluviums of your Brain.  Mack. 
By my shoul, my Dear Joy, I have two or three pair of old Shoes, if they will do thy Countrymen any good, they shall have them with all my heart.  Pol. 
But first let's know your Name?  Sir Geo. 
I was born in England of the Family of the Subtlemans'; but when I took upon me the Hermetical Life, I changed my Name to Sancto Hermolto de Fulgoso, alias, The Simple Hermit.  Big. 
Why the Simple Hermit?  Sir Geo. 
I was proud of that Name, because it showed my Humility.  Pol. 
Then you were proud of being humble.  Sir Geo. 
Yes, I was very proud of being so very humble.—  Pol. 
Mr. Bigot, you know your business, I will give Orders for the entertainment of this Hermit, and then repair to Leucasia's Lodgings.  Big. 
I know it, and will execute your Orders with all imaginable diligence and fidelity.  Exeunt, Enter Leucasia and Betty. Leu. 
What dost thou say, Is Sir George Murdered.  Betty. 
So it is conjectured; and his Man does confidently reports it.  Leu. 
It cannot be,— they dare not be such Villains.  Betty. 
It seems they dare; the thing is done, and thought to be contrived by Father Politico.  Leu. 
A Man might as well expect to see a Mine above Ground, as a deep Plot come from the shallow Head of Politico; If he is Author of this barbarous Murder, I dare pawn my reputation, I discover it in less than half an hours Conversation.  Betty. 
But you hazard your person, in trusting yourself in the House with one who would have used you so ill.  Leu. 
I hope to find an opportunity to use him worse: Do you observe your cue, and leave the rest to me.  They are going out, but met by Turnabout. Turn. 
egad Madam, you are very happily met; Did you appoint me this place, or did I appoint you?  Leu. 
If it had been by your appointment, I should not have been here; but if it had been by mine, it had been likely to succeed better: If you fancy any happiness to yourself in this Meeting, it must be ascribed to chance, and not to conduct.  Turn. 
I am like a good Gamester that throwed well so often, that the ignorant think he has a great deal of good luck, when it really is a great deal of good skill. I am verily persuaded that either you or I did contrive this, though I don't know when or where.  Leu. 
I have one reason to make me think it is yours, because it is to no purpose.  Turn. 
If it is to no purpose, it is you, Lady, that make it so: I am ready on my part to make it effectual to all intents and purposes whatever.  Leu. 
If I make it so, I will withdraw, and leave you to yourself.  Turn. 
If you withdraw, you spoil all, I can do nothing without your assistance.  Leu. 
Suppose I should give you my assistance, what then?  Turn. 
Then I would renounce the Devil and all his works, send for a Parson, and Mary you immediately.  Leu. 
That is as much as to say, That if the work were done to your hands, you would do it with a great deal of ease;— But I am not for that lazy way— you must give me some proof of your diligence.  Turn. 
Diligence before Matrimony, is like a rich Feast before an Appetite, it may be good, but not seasonable: To weary me out with Diligence now, is like riding an Horse to death before he gins his Journey.  Leu. 
And how should I know that an Horse can perform his Journey, unless I try him first?  Turn. 
Yes, Madam, you may try me first if you please.  Leu. 
I have tried you, and find you like the rest of your Sex, great in promises, and little in performance: Did not you promise to complete a revenge upon Politico?  Turn. 
Look you, Madam, I love mischief, but I hate to do it gratis; upon assurance of your love, I will not only sacrifice that Calf to your incensed Anger; but Mackdonnel himself, with an whole Hecatomb of Irish Bulls and Blunders.  Leu. 
I came hither to learn some intelligence of Sir George Subtleman's Death; Will you perform that Office for me, and discover the Author of that Villainy?  Turn. 
Hang Villainy, Death and Murder, It is your Eyes that have Murdered me, and I am glad that I have the opportunity to discover that: What do I care for the death of an Old Man, that made no conscience of living Eighty years? propound any other task, and I'll perform it, tho' difficult enough to puzzle the Devil.  Leu. 
Then bring me a Writing subscribed with Politicoes own hand, wherein he shall acknowledge himself to be no Politician, but a Pedant, a Sot, and an Ass; and in requital, you shall have of me whatever you will please to ask.  Turn. 
How! make Politico confess that!  Leu. 
Yes, make Politico confess that, or ne'er see my face more. I find Politico is lazy.— I'll to my Coach.  Is going. Turn. 
Nay, Madam, now you cannot stir from this house; it is beset by an unruly Rabble; you must endure the fortune of the Siege.  Leu. 
Heavens defend us! what shall I do?  Turn. 
I'll conduct you to a private Apartment, where you may remain without discovery; if danger comes near you, I will lose my Life in your Defence.— Remain there, and I will bring a Subscription from Politico.  Leu. 
There is nothing I expect less, or desire more,— Do that, and be as happy as I can make you.  Turn. 
A happy Match! I told you our meeting would be to the purpose.  Exeunt. Enter Politico and Manual. Pol. 
'Sdeath, the Rabble here already! I bid Bigot not bring them hither this half-hour.  Man. 
They are now unruly, Bigot can persuade them to nothing; they threaten to burn your House down.  Pol. 
Then I can't go to Leucasia.  Man. 
Not without danger of your Life.  Pol. 
Why, then my whole Plot is spoiled— To see the Malignity of Fortune! Where is Mr. Turnabout and Subtleman?  Man. 
They are both in the House.  Pol. 
That's well— Engage Mr Turnabout as far as you can in the danger, and leave him in it; Let Mackdonnel command the Servants, and make a vigorous defence, he is apprehensive of few things, perhaps he will not be apprehensive of danger. Prepare the Dark Vault for my reception, where, I think it is impossible for the many-headed Beast, with all its eyes, to find me.— Send the old Hermit to me; but let him know nothing of this disappointment, it will lessen my reputation extremely with the Americans.— If the Rabble break in, let them take Father Cautious's Trunk for a Prey, and so I may save my own; which is good modern Policy.  Man. 
I shall punctually observe your Orders.  Exit. Pol. 
I am not a little fearful of this danger; but Sancto Hermoldo de Fulgoso must not perceive it.  Enter the Hermit. Pol. 
Reverend Father, how far you? Have you read over the Notes and Observations?  Sir Geo. 
Yes, I have read them.  Pol. 
And do they please you?  Sir Geo. 
I wonder your Reverence will condescend to ask that question.— Am I a competent Judge of those Divine Writings?  Pol. 
But is not the Contrivance wonderful?  Sir Geo. 
Beyond expression or imitation. When I come to tell these things to the Americans, they will think I am a Lyar.  Pol. 
I will assure you, I have thought upon a Thousand things more improbable.  Sir Geo. 
If your Reverence did not affirm it, I could never believe it.  Pol. 
Why look you, Sir, my constant method is to compass my ends by such means as seem most contrary.  Sir Geo. 
So I perceive, with great admiration.  Pol. 
To that purpose, I have sent one to excite the Rabble to Insurrection and Sedition against us, on purpose to further our Cause.  Sir Geo. 
But how can that be?  Pol. 
Why thus: In the first place, the English Heretics stand much in vindication of their own Innocence: but by this means we shall have plenty of Accusations against them.  Sir Geo. 
Is that all?  Pol. 
No; by these means we shall render their Subjection more intolerable: for the oftener any Body of Men is subdued, so much heavier is the Yoke the Conqueror imposes.— There's another.—  Sir Geo. 
Bless me, sure there can be no more.  Pol. 
I perceive you want the Politicians Perspective. For in the third place, we shall have the pleasure to see the Heretics make wry Faces under the Whipping-posts and Gallows, which to me is as Comical a Sigh, as the Posture-master, and all his Motions.  Sir Geo. 
Oh! wonderful! you must give me leave to write this down.  Pulls out a Book, and writes. Enter Young Subtleman. Subt. 
Well, the business is done.  Pol. 
What business?  Subt. 
My Father is dispatched.  Pol. 
Fie! never talk of that.  Subt. 
It is certainly true.  Pol. 
Where's the Estate?  Subt. 
Secure to myself; the Will made to Leucasia is lost.  Pol. 
Then you will give it to the Church.  Subt. 
Why so?  Pol. 
Because we have done it for you.  Subt. 
Have you done it then?  Pol. 
I will not answer directly, but you know what the Casuists said.  Subt. 
But I would know how, and where you did it.  Pol. 
Those are Secrets, 'tis enough that 'tis done.  Subt. 
I dare say no more about it; that Old Gentleman will overhear us.  Pol. 
He may without danger; he is our dearest Friend and Confident, come from America to see me.  Subt. 
Then I may discourse the business before him.  Pol. 
By all means; I would not for 1000 l. that he should be ignorant of our Success. To Sir Geo. Look you here, Father, is new matters of wonder. A young Gentlemen was troubled with an Old Peevish Heretical Father, that kept him from a good Estate, and would not suffer him to turn Catholic; but we have dispatched him for his Pains, without more noise and trouble.  Sir Geo. 
Most excellently done.  Subt. 
I must confess myself obliged to this Gentleman for that kindness. But, pray let me know by what means you did it?  Pol. 
Trouble not your head with that; is not the work done?  Subt. 
Yes, to my great Satisfaction; but still I would know to whom I am most obliged.  Pol. 
Is any thing of moment done without me?— I must take the honour of it upon myself, though I know nothing of it.  Aside. Subt. 
I believe not, but still it is done with that dexterity, that methinks I would fain learn it.  Pol. 
That is an height that every Capacity cannot reach.  Sir Geo. 
And do not you find your heart leap for Joy? Are not you a little transported now the work is done?  Subt. 
O! beyond measure! 'Tis the finest thing in the World to jump into an Estate, without expecting the tedious Course of Nature, that seldom gives us variety of Food, before she has palled the Appetite.  Sir Geo. 
Well, I perceive now thou art a Villain.  Aside. Pol. 
But you must remember half that Estate is due to the Church.  Subt. 
It is all at your Service, if you will but tell me how it was done.  Pol. 
I must not discover that;— but if you will follow me in, I will show you a Scheme how something may be done that is like it.— Adieu.  Exit. Subt. 
There is nothing I desire more.  Sir Geo. 
Well, I am now satisfied, that my Son is a Rogue and Villain. aside.— To his Son. Meet me in the great Hall, a quarter of an hour hence, and I will discover all.  Subt. 
Was you then an Actor in it.  Sir. Geo. 
Yes, a principal one.— Do not fail.  Subt. 
By no means.  Exit Sir Geo. Subtleman. Subt. 
Solus.— So, now my business is done: I will get a Warrant and Indict them all of Wilful Murder, spend the Estate merrily, and leave the Fathers in the lurch to be hanged and damned for me.  Exit. 
The Scene changes to a great Hall, where Mack. Turn. Man. Cautions, are discovered sitting round a Table, on which are spread Guns, and Arms of all sorts.  Turn. 
Look ye Gentlemen, the business about which we meet, and are to consult about, is this, whether we are able to resist the Violence of the Rabble; or whether it be best to come to an honourable Composition?  Cau. 
I am for Composition, if it can be done without Charges.  Mack. 
And I by my Shoul, I am for Fight, if it can be done without danger.  Man. 
My Master commits his safety to your care. As you discharge that trust, you may expect his favour.  Turn. 
If you think of Fight, we must know our number of Arms, Men, and Provision.  Man. 
As for Provisions, we have good store of Ale, Beer, French Wine, Brandy, and Vsquebaugh.  Turn. 
All this is good; and what Servants?  Mack. 
We have nine Irish Footmen; but those, my dear Joy, are all run away.  Man. 
And three French Valets; but one has not combed his Wig; another has not washed his Face; and a third is puzzled to set his Crevat-string; so that they cannot be in a Posture of Defence this hour.  Turn. 
And is that all?  Man. 
No, we have two High-German Porters, but they have drunk so much to raise their Courage, that they have thrown their bulky Bodies, and lie wallowing in the Cellar. We had too an English Groom and Scullion, but they prove perfidious, and are gone over to the Enemy.  Cau. 
And where is my man Jonathan?  Man. 
At the head of the Rabble, exciting them to all manner of Indignities.  Cau. 
O! miserable Wretch! I am undone then for ever.  Turn. 
Well, it is no matter for great numbers of Men, what Arms have you? The Rabble are like Jackdaws, they make an hideous noise when they spy Carrion, but will fly at the smell of a little Gunpowder.  Mack. 
O! by my Shoul! Ish have the very best Guns in the World, but I have forgot to provide one thing.  Turn. 
Pray, what's that?  Mack. 
A very small thing, 'tis not worth mentioning.  Turn. 
Pray, let's hear it.  Mack. 
By my Shoul, I have forgot to provide a little Gunpowder.  Turn. 
Nay, than we must yield. My Opinion, in short, is, that the Place is not Tenable, we must Surrender upon Discretion.  Man. 
And leave my Master to have his Brains knocked out.  Turn. 
Perhaps not.— Go you, and convey him to his dark Vault; then let every Man hid himself as conveniently as he can, and leave me, and Mrs. Subtleman, to manage their Fancy. The rage of the People is like the current of a River; let it pass, and it glides away without damage; but stop it, and it overflows all.— What say you, gentlemans, are you agreed?  Cau. 
I cannot agree, it is the way to lose my Trunk.  Man. 
We must not all perish for your Trunk.  Cau. 
Then I will get into one of my empty Chests, and die, or perish with them.  Mack. 
And is will creep into an Hogshead, and die, or perish with it.  Turn. 
That will be the first thing they'll search for.  Mack. 
Well, I will get under the Bed, and lie in Ambush.  Man. 
be quick in Execution: I'll go to my Master.  Exit. Mack. 
Come, Brother Cautious, let us live.  Exeunt two. Enter Subtleman. Subt. 
Why, how now Jack, what dost thou do alone in the midst of this Confusion?  Turn. 
Faith Tom, I am contriving a little Mischief against Father Politico, and his Gang, and stand in need of thy assistance.  Subt. 
Thou shalt have it with all my heart.  Turn. 
It is no time for words, follow me to the Street-door, and you shall see it completed.  Subt. 
Agreed, Love and Revenge move swiftly to their end.  Enter Manual and Politico. Pol. 
Dost thou suspect, then, Turnabout's Fidelity.  Man. 
Yes, because he was so ready to Surrender.  Pol. 
Ay, but you suspect him against the Rules of Policy. For Turnabout has dependencies upon me, Expectancies from me; and it is a general Rule, that scarce one Man is true to another, yet every Man is true to his own Interest.— Besides, he hath lately disobliged me, therefore will endeavour to regain my favour.  Man. 
But what does your Reverence think of Mr. Subtleman?  Pol. 
I think 'tis impossible that he should deceive us, wherefore leave them to manage all. Let Sancto Hermolto de Fulgoso be put into the securest place of all the House; if he receive any hurt, 'twill lessen my Reputation in America; let Turnabout and Subtleman keep the Key of the Vault, and none have admittance to me but them; secure all my Political Notes and Observations, though the Vulgar may not perceive they are taken from Playbooks; remove Hobbs and Machiavelli out of my Study, they are so thumbed, it will be a shame to see them; hid the Pictures of those pretty Ladies Mrs. Counterfeit sent me: The Rabble will mistake them for Saints, and burn them: As for the Religious Pictures, it is good to leave them to divert the sway of the Mobile from things of greater Value.  Man. 
I shall observe it.  Pol. 
Turnabout has lately disobliged me, though against his will; and if thou couldst contrive it so, as to excite the Rabble to kick, beat, or toss him in a Blanket, I should applaud and reward the Action.  Man. 
If I durst appear, I could quickly do it.  Turnabout crosses the Stage without Hat, Crevat, or Sword. Pol. 
Mr. Turnabout, your most Faithful, Humble, and Obedient Servant.— I see you are taking as much pains for my Preservation, as I take for your Advancement.  Turn. 
I have no reason to doubt it.  Pol. 
But why in this disguise?  Turn. 
He that will deal with the Rabble, must appear a little like them.— Good Sir, retire with all speed.— I am just going to let them in, and can't stay to give you a particular Account.  Exit in haste. Pol. 
Well, thou art a very fool, and so farewell.  Exeunt. Enter Turnabout and John Simper, heading the Rabble. Turn. 
You see Gentlemen, ye are admitted without Resistance.— Pray, what is your business?  Jon. 
We came to search for Politico.  Turn. 
I am sorry he is fled; I got into the House before you on purpose to surprise him, but he and all his Family are vanished.— The lord—  1 Fellow. 
Nay, it is probable he did deal with the Devil.  Jon. 
We came likewise to search for Protestant Bridles, Popish Knives and Trinkets. Bear back there, and let four only Enter.  Thrust 'em back. Turn. 
The Bridles are in the Stable, the Knives in the Kitchen, and the Trinkets are Relics, and packed up in three or four great Trunks, and thrust into a Vault in the Cellar.  Jon. 
Let two go and fetch them Exeunt two Porters to fetch them— The Treasure is in the two little Boxes, send them to Wapping, and bring up the other.— Pray Gentlemen, let us proceed with Moderation, no Filching, Stealing, Swearing, or Fight; let us destroy nothing but Popish Trinkets.  1 Fell. 
Our Captain speaks very discreetly, and we will obey him.  2 Fell. 
Honourable Captain, there is a Controversy in the Cellar, whether Claret or Whitewine are not Popish Goods, and aught to be destroyed?  Jon. 
No question of it. You know the Hugonots are all forbidden it in France.  1 Fell. 
I am glad to hear it.  Jon. 
Clear the House of all Mass-books, and Pictures of Saints.  2 Fell. 
That's quickly done, we have burnt St. Herculus already.  Jon. 
Make diligent search for Politico, or any of his Gang.  Enter two, dragging in Mackdonnel. 1 Fell. 
Dog, Rogue, creep under the Bed! thou art an Irish Papish, and we will kill thee.  Mack. 
By my Shoul, my dear Joy, I am no Irish man, is was born at Cork.  2 Fell. 
That Cork shan't stop our Mouth.— Thou art an Irishman, and we will knock thy Brains out.  3 Fell. 
If thou wast born at Cork, thou must needs be light of Foot, and for the Jests sake, I will throw thee out at th' Window.  Takes him in's Arms. 1 Fell. 
Nay, if he was born at Cork, he must needs Swim; we will tie a Stone about's Neck, and throw him into the River, and that's better Jest.  Snatches him away. Mack. 
Nay, good my dear Joys, do not tie a Stone about my Neck.— I am very tender of my Head, and shall catch Cold immediately.  2 Fell. 
I tell thee, mine is the best Jest.  1 Fell. 
I say mine is.  They pull Mackdonnel about, and at last fall a Fight. 3 Fell. 
I say mine is.  Mack. 
Nay, when the Heretics do Fight amongst themselves, the good Catholic always make their escape.  Exit running. Jon. 
Pray Gentlemen leave Fight, and mind your business. Look, here is an whole Trunk of Popish Trinkets.— Enter Porters, and set down the Trunk.— Break it open, it belongs to Father Cautious They break it open. so in the first place here is an old pair of Breeches:— See with what care they are preserved, though there be a thousand Holes in them.— These did belong to Mathusalem.  1 Fell. 
If they did, they shall be burnt for Popish.  Jon. 
Then here are six Shirts.  2 Fell. 
They are not Shirts, but Surplices.— They must be burnt too.  1 Fell. 
But what's this wrapped up in a Paper.  Jon. 
Hang me, if this covetous Dog, Cautious, is not transporting the Carcase of a Goose to France.  2 Fell. 
Pray, Noble Captain, what is it?  Jon. 
It is the Body of that famous Constantinopolitan Cock, that was raised from the dead.  1 Fell. 
Then it was a Popish Cock, and we will burn it.  Enter Turnabout. Turn. 
Gentlemen, I desire you to consult your own safety; The Soldiers are marching down with Powder and Ball:— You have seen all in the House you can.  Jon. 
What say ye, shall we march away?  
Rabble, Away, away, away; burn 'em, burn 'em, away, away.—  Exeunt, carrying with them Father Cautious's Trunk. Turn. 
So, 'tis well, they are gone,— Mr. Subtleman come out.  Enter Subtleman. 
Come, Jack, the Coast is clear; The Rabble are hastening away with all expedition; and all Politico's Servants lie secure in holes, from whence they dare not stir till I call 'em.  Subt. 
Then now is the time to work Politico to your end— Have you placed Leucasia's Footmen in a Room next to Politico's.  Turn. 
Yes, I have given good store of Claret to carouse; I taught them a Song that will frighten Politico out of the Vault.  Subt. 
Then let us make haste and free Leucasia from all apprehension of danger; She is melancholy in the little Parlour: Besides, I have some business with Mrs. Betty.  Turn. 
As quick as thou wouldst have it— My Love moves so fast, I fancy it near the centre.  Exeunt. 
The Scene Draws, and discovers Politico lying on a Couch, in a Dark Vault in a Melancholy Posture.  Pol. 
Well, this last Plot of raising the Rabble, is likely to prove dangerous, tho' it wants nothing but success to render it a Masterpiece for the best Politician in Europe.  A noise of Singing and Huzzaing behind the Scenes. 
But what noise is this! O'my Conscience the Rabble are got into the next Room, I shall be torn in pieces before succours can come.  A Song behind the Scenes, supposed to be Sung by the Rabble. 

COme Brother let's Drink, what ever you think,  
Politico ' s Noddle is empty:  
We'll knock out his Brains, in the Skull that remains  
We'll drink Sack and Claret in plenty.   

His Flesh we will eat, it is excellent Meat,  
His Blood shall serve us for Drinking;  
His Bones we will pair, till they are so bare,  
There shall be no danger of Stinking.   Pol. 
Bloody Rogues! Villains! they make me tremble, but I shall shortly have the pleasure to see them all hanged.  Enter Turnabout. Turn. 
Sir.  Pol. 
Who's there?  Turn. 
'Tis I.—  Pol. 
You are welcome, but speak softly; what News?  Turn. 
All's lost.  Pol. 
It is not.— I have prudence enough left to recover all.  Turn. 
I mean all but your Reverence's Prudence.  Pol 
But, prithee, what's the matter?— Speak softly.  Turn. 
Captain Tom is fully resolved.  Pol. 
To do what?  Turn. 
To shut up the Doors, and burn the House down.  Pol. 
Does he know that I am in it?  Turn. 
As well as I do.  Pol. 
Who betrayed me?  Turn. 
'Tis uncertain; he has the best Intelligence in Europe; nothing that is done can escape his knowledge.  Pol. 
I thought he had been an Ignorant Mechanical Fellow.  Turn. 
So the World thinks him; but 'tis certain, (excepting yourself) he is the greatest Statesman in Europe.  Pol. 
What then would you have me do?  Turn. 
Resolve to perish nobly in the Flames; your Fame will shine the brighter.  Pol. 
Burning is no fit Death for a Statesman, they should die by Poison, or the Axe, or the Halter. Burning puts me in mind of a Smithfield Heretic.  Turn. 
There is no Axe to be got, but if your Reverence is in very urgent necessity, I have a small quantity of Arsenic in one Pocket, and an Halter in the other.  Pol. 
But why so desperate Mr. Turnabout? Can you bring him to no Conditions?  Turn. 
None but what are worse than Death. You can never endure to hear them.  Pol. 
I perceive you done't understand the true Rules of Policy. Let the Conditions be never so bad, we will hearken to them, give Hope's Accommodation, and interpose Delays till Succour come, and he's taken napping.  Turn. 
Alas, Sir, that is too vulgar a Policy to impose upon a Man of his understanding. He will allow you a quarter of an hours time for Deliberation.  Pol. 
Then, pray, let me hear his Conditions.  Turn. 
First, he will have an Instrument under your Hand and Seal, wherein you must Renounce and Disclaim all pretences to the Name of a Politician, and acknowledge yourself to be a Pedant, an Ass, and a Fool.  Pol. 
Renounce all Pretences to the Name of Politician, etc. A pretty homour this, I will sooner die than do it.  Turn. 
I will go and tell him so.  Is going. Pol. 
No, stay, Self-preservation is a Fundamental Law of Nature. I will submit to it; but why should he impose such an unreasonable Task upon me?  Turn. 
He is a Rival of your Fame, and envious of your Glory, which he would fain fully, by rendering you Ridiculous in all the Courts in Christendom.  Pol. 
I believe so,— and therefore I will sooner die than lose my Honour.— Bid him fire the House.  Turn. 
It shall be done in a moment.  Is going. Pol. 
But stay, pauses necessity has no Law; I must submit, though I had rather lose ten of my Toes, and six of my Fingers. But what is his two Articles.  Turn. 
It is of near Kin to the other.— You must solemnly Promise and Swear, never to intermeddle with Matters of State, or Haunt the Courts of Princes, or belie the Favours of Great Men, but spend the remainder of your time in Study and Devotion.  Pol. 
It is an impossible Condition, I can never perform it.  Turn. 
Why so?  Pol. 
Because it is as natural to me to intermeddle with Affairs of State, as 'tis to a Bird to fly, or a Fish to swim. And how should I give up myself to the Study of Books, or Devotion, who have been disused from both these twenty years.  Turn. 
But I say it is not impossible.  Pol. 
But I say it is:— Let him burn the House.  Turn. 
I say it is not; for though it be impossible to perform, yet it is not impossible to promise.  Pol. 
Ay, there you distinguish rightly. It is not impossible for me to promise it.  Turn. 
Then I shall tell him that you consent to his Conditions of Peace.  Pol. 
Yes, do; let him insult at present. I shall soon overreach his Policy, and bring him to the Gallows, and then I will so disappoint him of his Fame, that I will not so much as suffer a Ballad to be made in his Commendation.  Turn. 
That will vex him extremely.— I'll return presently with a Copy of the Agreement.  Pol. 
I'll attend you, but make haste.  Turn. 
ne'er fear it.  Exit. Pol. 
This Turnabout is a very Goose.— I hate him mortally, and yet he thinks me his greatest Friend.  Enter Turnabout with four of Leucasia's Footmen. Turn. 
Here, you Rogues, lies Politico, fright him to some purpose, but offer no Violence to his Person.  Aside to the Footmen. 1 Foot. 
Let us alone for that.  2 Foot. 
Zooks, Jack, I'll be hanged if Politico is not hid in this dark Cellar. Let's fetch a Light.  3 Foot. 
Damn a Light, we will grope him out with our Hands.  Pol. 
Now Heavens defend me, Turnabout has left the Door open, and I shall fall into the Hands of the Rabble.  4 Foot. 
Groping is the best way, but hast got a Knife ready?  2 Foot. 
For what?  4 Foot. 
To cut out the Dog's Tongue, and keep the tip in our Pockets.  2 Foot. 
I have a Rope's end, and a Bull's Pizzle.  3 Foot. 
They are too gentle Instruments. would I have him Broiled on a Gridiron.  4 Foot. 
I say, Boil him in a Cauldron.  1 Foot. 
I say, Roast him.  2 Foot. 
I say, 'Igad, let's eat him, if the Rogue does not Stink for fear; he will be good fat Meat.  Pol. 
Bloody Rogues! Villains! What would I give to be free from this danger?  3 Foot. 
The best way to catch him, is to spread ourselves over the Room,— and if ye hear him stir.—  Pol. 
Oh! But we Politicians have a trick for that.  They grope up and down the Room. Politico pulls off his Shoes, and still as they come near him, slips away. 2 Foot. 
Hast found him Tom?  3 Foot. 
No, but methinks I scent him.  4 Foot. 
And 'Igad, I have found his Shoes.  Takes 'em up. 1 Foot. 
Then he must be near.  Pol. 
O me Miserum!  2 Foot. 
We had best fetch a Light. All, a Light! a Light! a Light!  Exeunt. Pol. 
I am glad the Villains are gone; but if they return with a Light before Turnabout brings Articles of Peace, I am undone.— To save my Life, I will sign any Condition, but keep none, because they are extorted, Meta Mortis.  Enter Turnabout with a dark Lantern, and Papers in his Hand. Turn. 
Sir, where are you?  Pol. 
Here, sweet Mr. Turnabout; you did ill to leave the Door open, the Rabble had almost found me: I must now be contented to Seal a Blank.  Turn. 
No, you shall not do it: The Insolence of Captain Tom is intolerable, he will have you not only Sign, but make the same acknowledgement before him blindfold.  Pol. 
And why blindfold, prithee?  Turn. 
The ambitious Statesman looks upon that as an acknowledgement, that you are so much his Inferior, that you are unworthy to look upon him.  Pol. 
I can never do it. You must bid him fire the House, and yet Life is sweet.— Well, proceed.  Turn. 
And not only so, but he will have you renounce all Pretensions to Leucasia, and publicly profess, that you believe her to be Mistress of neither Wit, Beauty, or Virtue.  Pol. 
And why so?  Turn. 
'Tis Envy, Igad, mere Envy.  Pol. 
Right Mr. Turnabout, it is Envy. I have always observed, that the greatest Statesmen have been my greatest Enemies. But how could he know any thing of Leucasia.  Turn. 
Did not I tell you, that he knew all things?  Pol. 
So it seems by this.  Turn. 
Then in the last place, you must provide him and his Gang a splendid Supper, where yourself must wait upon him in Person, drink a Grace-cup of Reconcilement, and be Friends for ever.— Sure you will never submit to this.  Pol. 
Not submit to it, yes, with all mine heart, Ha', ha', ha', He a Politician, he an Ass. This one false step shall be his Ruin.— I faith, Captain Tom, I am glad I have catched thee in a Trap.  Turn. 
But how?  Pol. 
Why, look you Mr. Turnabout, this young Man in his last Demands, is guilty of two notorious Errors. For 1st. He permits his mortal Enemy to fill him Wine at Supper, not considering how easy a matter 'twere for me to mingle him a glass of Arsenic.  Turn. 
Ay, there I protest you catch him.  Pol. 
Then by staying Supper, he gives me opportunity to send for Guards to surprise him and his Myrmidons; see him fairly hanged, and myself triumphantly survive him; ha', ha'. Come, let us make all imaginable haste to prevent the return of the Rabble.— You shall introduce me.  Turn. 
I attend your Motion.  Exeunt. 
The Scene changes to a great Hall; Chairs set, Leucasia ' s Servant's attending.  Enter Subtleman, leading in Leucasia. Subt. 
Please you Madam, to take your Seat, and we will present you with the most Comical Sight in the World: Mr. Turnabout will presently be here, and lay the mighty Politico at your Feet, humbly acknowledging himself to be a Pedant, an Ass, and a Fool.  Leu. 
'Tis so well known, there's no need of his Testimony to confirm it; but methinks we should have more Spectators.  Subt. 
You will see enough presently; I have sent to Sancto Hermolto de Fulgoso, Bigot, Cautious, and the whole Gang; we shall burst with Laughter. My Lord Britain will be here too.  Leu. 
That Lord is truly Noble, his Native Generosity too great to be vitiated by any Speculative Opinion. I would not have him affronted.  Subt. 
He will not think himself affronted, to see a few turbulent Priests made Ridiculous. I rather think 'twill give him great Diversion.  Leu. 
I could be much Merrier, if I were satisfied concerning Sir George's Absence; and I can assure you a great Blemish does from thence reflect on you.  Subt. 
Faith, Madam, I must wipe of that as well as I can; but I am resolved to be Merry this happy minute, whatever happens the next.— Pray, Madam, take your Seat.  Leucasia places herself in the great Chair. Enter Sir George, Subtleman. Sir Geo. 
Save you Mr. Subtleman, this is an odd Change, to be sent for out of Danger, to see a Play.— I am not used to such Diversion in America.  Subt. 
You will see nothing here, but an innocent Representation of some Follies of Human Nature, to dispel those Melancholy Fumes that are the small Relics of stupifying Dangers.  Sir Geo. 
Nay, you do well to rejoice. You have lost a Father.  Subt. 
I thank the Fates for it, he departed in a very seasonable time.  
Aside to Sir Geo. But are these Circumstances true, that you told me in the Parlour.  Sir Geo. 
All very true.  Subt. 
And you, and Politico, Father Cautious, and Bigot, concerned in it.  Sir Geo. 
All equally concerned; sure you'll reward us.  Subt. 
Most bountifully.  Sir Geo. 
Aside. Well, than I do perceive thou art a very Villain.  Sir George takes his Seat. Enter Lord Britain. Subt. 
My Lord, your very humble Servant, we have prepared a small Interlude, we hope will not be altogether displeasing to your Lordship, though it reflects a little on the Priests of your Religion.  Lord Brit. 
Never the more for that; I love their Regular, but hate their Eccentric motions; nothing to me is more ridiculously Odious.  Subt. 
Then, pray, take your Seat there.  Takes his Seat. Enter Cautious and Mackdonnel. Mack. 
And how my dear Joy, didst thou come back from Wapping? Or didst thou stay there locked up in thy Chest till this time?  Cau. 
You see I am returned, but with an heavy Heart, and a light Purse. The Rabble carried me thither in one of my own Chests, and I lay very still. I understood that I was to be clapped on Board for Sweedland. Then fearing the loss of my natural Treasure, I crept away slily, and am glad to see the Storm is blown over.  Mack. 
Yesh, by my Shoul, dear Joy, we shall have a rare show, and laugh at the Heretical Dogs, till we do make them cry their Eyes out.  Subt. 
Mr. Cautious, why so Pensive?  Caut. 
Alas, Sir, I have cause enough, my Money is all lost. I saw it set sail for Sweedland with a fair Wind, and sent two or three Sighs after it, which blew it farther from me.  Subt. 
It is well you are not covetous, if you were, you would hang yourself.  Caut. 
No, I am not Covetous. But I think your Note did make some mention of Money.  Aside to Cautious. Subt. 
If you had any hand in the Death of the Old Man, I design 500 l. for your Reward.  Caut. 
That is some comfort, I could find in my heart to own it.  Aside. Subt. 
Well, what say you?  Caut. 
I say you are greatly beholden to me for it. How, want of Money will make a Man lie!  Aside. Subt. 
Then take your Seat. As soon as our Play is done, we'll discourse further about it.  Places himself. Soft Music. Enter Turnabout leading Politico blinded with an Handkerchief. Turn. 
There sits the Captain, kneel down as soon as I give the Sign, and repeat your Lesson, Totidem Verbis.  Pol. 
I warrant you; but what Company is here?  Turn. 
None but a confused Rabble.  Pol. 
Led on, I don't value them.  Herm. 
Bless me, what is the meaning of that?  Caut. 
I am struck with Admiration!  Lord Brit. 
Be silent, and attend the issue.  Turnabout leads Politico just over against Leucasia ' s Chair, and then speaks softly to him. Turn. 
Now you are in the right Place● make your Honour.  Politico makes three very low Bows, and then Knelt down. Pol. 
Softly to Mr. Turnabout.  
Methinks tho, Captain Tom might allow me a Cushion.  Turn. 
ne'er stand upon that, speak out.  Pol. 
Most high and mighty, thrice Illustrious Hero.  Leu. 
Thrice Illustrious is not Title sufficient. I will be styled six times Illustrious Hero.  Mack. 
By my Shoul, my dear Joy, thou art out: Thou must say half a dozen times Illustrious Hero.  Pol. 
Most High and Mighty, Six times Illustrious Hero.  Leu. 
That's well.  Pol. 
I do here in the presence of all this Company—  Leu. 
Company is too mean a word— I will have egregious Society.  Pol. 
I do here in the presence of this Egregious Society.  Cau. to Sir Geo. 
Do you know the meaning of this?  Sir Geo. 
Not I: Be silent.  Leu. 
Proceed.  Pol. 
Profess, own, and declare.  Leu. 
That is not complete enough; I will have it profess, confess, acknowledge, own, declare, denounce, manifest, make known and public.  Pol. 
Softly to Turn. Bless me! this Capt. Tom. is very hard to please— Pray intercede for me to his Highness, that there may be some abatement.  Turn. 
'Tis impossible; you must perform all.  Pol. 
I do profess, confess, acknowledge, own, declare, denounce, manifest, make known and public.  Leu. 
That's tolerably well done.  Pol. 
To all Christian people, as well Catholics as others.  Leu. 
What's that? Speak out.  Mack. 
He dosh shay, my dear Joy— To all Christian people, ash well Infidels ash others.  Leu. 
I will pass that by; Let him proceed.  Pol. 
That I Politico am no Statesman, no Wise man, no Scholar; but a Pedant, an Ass, and a Fool.  Leu. 
That's very right,— I hope, at length you will learn to speak plain truth.  Pol. Aside to Turn. 
This Captain Tom has a shrill Voice, I fancy he is but an effeminate Fellow.  Turn. 
Tush— Proceed, or you will raise his fury.  Pol. 
I do also Promise, Vow, and Swear, That I will not for the future meddle with Affairs of State, or haunt the Courts of Princes, or belie the Favours of Great men; but bestow the remainder of my time in study of Books and Learning.  Leu. 
That's well, speak it out.  Pol. (Repeats the same words aloud.) Cau. to L. Brit. 
Is this Politico himself! or one that represents him?  L. Brit. 
I know not, nor do I care; I like things well enough.  Pol. 
And lastly, whereas I did pretend admiration of the Lady Leucasia, I do now Vow, and Declare, that I did but dissemble, and did never think her Handsome, Witty, Wise, or Virtuous.  Turn. 
Ha', ha', The business is done. Sir, your Servant.  Turnabout pulls off the Handkerchief, The Priests grin, and the rest laugh. Pol. 
Bless me! What is the meaning of this! Here is no Rabble, no Captain Tom, but all Friends, except that pretty Enemy Leucasia.  Aside. Turn. 
The meaning is, Sir, that you are gulled, grossly and palpably gulled;— The Rabble has been gone these two hours,— Nothing but your own Fears and Follies has betrayed you into this acknowledgement, by the assistance of your Humble Servant Turnabout.  Leu. 
I Vow, Sir, you did ill not to stand upon your Guard better; but suffer yourself to be thus surprised by the stratagem of a silly Woman, and one of your own Pupils.  Pol. To Turn. 
Rogue— Villain— Dog, hast thou deceived me?  Turn. 
'Tis in vain to fret yourself, you taught me to Deceive; yourself encouraged me to Deceive; And how can you be angry that at last I have deceived you?  Pol. 
I will be revenged for this indignity, To my L. Britain. My Lord, will you suffer one of my Character to be thus abused.  L. Brit. 
Sir, I am ready to defend you with my Life, as long as you act in that Sphere which is proper to your station; but when you exceed the bounds of that, and fall into Calamities and Absurdities, I must leave you.  Leu. 
Alas, my Lord, He can be left in no calamity the space of half an hour;— Let him but take a turn or two about the Room, and he will have Plots enough to confound us all.  Pol. 
Art thou mad, Turnabout, to raise up against thyself so powerful an Enemy?  Turn. 
Not in the least: You are made ridiculous, and your being ridiculous does make you impotent: Nor have you any reason to accuse me of falsehood, since I only put in practice the Arts which you taught me.  Pol. 
Confusion seize thee— I will be revenged.  Exit. Subt. 
Let him go, he will soon be brought again.  Enter Bigot, Speedwell, Sergeant, and four or five tawdry Whores. Big. 
The last enterprise of stirring up the Rabble, did unfortunately miscarry in my hands: I raised 'em with success, but could no more Govern the Rogues, than Command a Whirlwind; Instead of hurting Leucasia, they have done infinite damage to ourselves— But I shall recover my credit, by presenting this goodly Company with some new Converts of my own making.  Subt. 
Mr. Bigot, you come too late. But what do you do with all these Women?  Big. 
These are Virtuous Ladies, whom I have converted by my own industry and eloquence, from their long-imbibed Errors.  Leu. 
I perceive a new Sense of mirth is opening.  Big. 
Mrs. Speedwell, pray speak for yourself; or if you are ashamed, let me speak for you. To the Company, This Lady, not full two hours since, was an inventerate Fanatic, infected with the loathsome Scabs of a Vicious Error.  Leu. 
What a Spiritual Mountebank this is!  Big. 
But I, by Application of those Remedies that are proper to Disease's of this Nature, have reduced her to perfect Internal Sanity. Mrs. Speedwell, pray speak for yourself.  Speed. 
Mr. Subtleman will know me, and then I am disgraced for ever.  Big. 
Be not ashamed of Truth, it needs no Vizor.  Pulls of her Mask, and shows her to Mr. Subtleman. Subt. 
O! Mrs. Speedwell, Your very humble Servant— This is a cast Mistress of mine, so damned unreasonable and perfidious, that like the Wars of our French Monarch, She was never to be satisfied with Men or Mony.— If this be your new virtuous Convert, I wish you much joy of her.  Big. 
Do you jeer me?  Subt. 
If I do, it is your fault; you are so horridly gulled in this, that to laugh at you is no matter of choice, but of necessity.  Big. 
I say, again, Mrs. Speedwell, speak for yourself, Is this true?  Speed. 
Why, to speak the truth, a Woman must get her livelihood some way or other: I lived honestly on my Trade, and paid every one till stirs and combustion came, and my Trade decayed, and Mr. Subtleman cast me off; and then I was sent to turn Religious whether I would or no: And, pray, who can blame me for that?  Leu. 
A very ingenuous Confession.  Big. 
Well, tho' I am mistaken in this one, yet Envy itself can object, I presume, nothing against the other— Pray let them declare their most stupendious Conversion.  Turn. 
You need not, I know them all— They are a parcel of Jilting Queans, picked up from Suburb Bawdy-houses; the leave of Porters and Footmen— Pray Mr. Bigot remove them, they are very offensive.  Big. 
If I thought so, I would turn them off, they will be a scandal.  1 Whore, 
Ay, but you promised me a new Gown.  2— 
And me a Place at Court  3— 
And me a Pension.  4— 
And me to be Lady Abbess.  1— 
You told us you would bring us to Court.  2— 
And said we should have Dogs, and Monkeys, and live like Ladies.  3— 
And that we should take place of all the Heretics.  4— 
And that we should ride in Coaches and Chairs— And now do you think to put us off so?  Big. 
But Mr. Turnabout says you are Whores— And I will have nothing to do with Whores.  1.— 
Then I'll seize your Crevat for default of payment.  2— 
And I your Peruke.  3— 
And I your Hat.  4— 
And I'll have a Pennyworth out of your Eyes— D'ye think an honest Woman can go to Church for nothing?  They all fall upon him, and tear him about. Big. 
Murder, murder, Help me, or I shall be destroyed.  L. Brit. 
I am sick of these follies, and will retire.  Exit. Cau. and Her. 
Hold, Hold,—  They interpose, and take 'em off him. Leu. 
I protest, Mr. Bigot, I can but pity you; you had like to have incurred Acteon's fate, and been devoured by your own Hounds.  Enter Constable and Watch, bringing in Politico. Const. 
Here Mr. Subtleman, This I suppose is the Man.  Subt. 
The very same; and I charge you to seize this, and this, and this—  Pointing to Cautious, Bigot, and Hermolto. Cau. 
What is this part of your Play!  They seize them. Subt. 
No, Faith I am in earnest; you must all four go before the Justice, where I must accuse you of the wilful murder of my Honoured Father, Sir George Subtleman.  Sergeant and the Whores run away. Pol. 
How dare you attempt one of my Figure?  Subt. 
I shall leave that to the Law, the Judge, and the Hangman— Alas! Sir, I am but a poor Instrument in the Prosecution.  Her. 
And wilt thou bring these Grey Hairs, and this Reverend Beard to the Gallows?  Subt. 
Faith, Reverend Father, I must confess there is some difficulty in Hanging a Man with so long a Beard; but if it be troublesome to you, you may tie it up under a Cap, or tuck it under your Girdle;— or use any other method most agreeable to your discretion.  Pol. 
Nay, if you be in earnest— I protest I had no hand in it.  Subt. 
I can depose on Oath, you confessed to me that you had.  Pol. 
It was cleverly done, and I thought it was for my Reputation.  Cau. 
I am Innocent as the Child unborn.  Subt. 
But you confessed the Fact to me.  Cau. 
That was to recover the loss of my Trunk.  Big. 
I never did it; but I wish I had.  Subt. 
We have witness against you, and you shall be hanged for wishing. Constable do your Office.  Constable, etc. offer to drag them away. Her. 
Nay, now I am in a fine case; if I should come to be hanged for killing my myself, it were a pretty Jest, if it were not too much in earnest.  Aside. Subt. 
I say, Constable do your Office.  Herm. 
Nay, then 'tis time to discover myself—  Sir George throws off his Disguise, and discovers himself. All. 
O! Sir George, Sir George, you are welcome from the Dead.  Sir Geo. 
Yes faith, Gentlemen, I am honest old hearty Sir George Subtleman, that took this Disguise, and spread abroad the report of my Death, to see how far my Son was debauched with the Principles of their damned Casuistical Divinity; and since I find him pretty honest, as the times go, I will give him all.  Subt. 
O, my dearest Father, How am I surprised to see you!  They embrace. Leu. 
I am transported with joy! The turn is so wonderful, and it had unto spoiled the Hanging of these Sacerdotal Vermin, nothing could have happened more delightful.  Pol. 
How damnably am I deceived! I told the whole Court he came from America.  Turn. 
We are all disposed for mirth but these Gownmen, who have most reason, as having escaped the greatest danger.  Cau. 
Since I have lost my Trunk, Hanging could be no great affliction.  Pol. 
When I have lost my Reputation, what does my Life signify?  Big. 
I see the Catholic Cause is dying, I wish that I could die with it.  Turn. to Leu. 
Madam, I have now performed my Promise, and expect you to give me my Reward, without fraud or Jesuitical equivocation.  Leu. 
Here, take my Hand, and Assurance with it, That from this time I shall be always yours; I did always Love you, tho' some Courses you took did highly disoblige me, from which I was resolved to reclaim you. But your last good service has cancelled all former miscarriages; and since you have given me this half hour of pleasure, I shall dedicate the remainder of my Life and Fortune to make you happy.  Turn. 
And faith, Madam, since you are so bountiful, I shall leave all this crew of whimsical Pedants, and the damned Vices of this Town, and study only how to make myself happy by pleasing you.  Sir George. 
I faith Niece, this is to the purpose, I will be merry at your Wedding, and Dance, and Jump, and Sing, and Hollow; and for Mr. Turnabout's encouragement, will settle 200 l. per Annum on the first Child, and allow my Son so competent a maintenance, that he shall not need to depend on that Gang any longer.  Subt. 
Then all have reason to rejoice; none but the Fathers are dejected.  Turn. 
I know they are concerned for their loss of Reputation; Politico shall give us a Supper, as he promised, and Captain Tom and we will conceal all those disappointments.  Pol. 
Agreed, for Peace sake I will do it; but you must be sure to be very secret, and I will never meddle with business of this nature more.  Turn. 
Then all is happily ended: For—  

When Priests forsake the business of the State,  
And on the Duties of their Office wait,  
Expect the Issue of a prosperous fate.   

But when they steer the Helm, they hurry on  
A dismal Night of black confusion.  
Nature a wound in every part must feel,  
And her whole system with disorder reel.     
Plaudite.   
FINIS COMMEDIAE.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
TO the two Universities, an Epistle. Together with a Prediction concerning the French; Translated out of Callimachus: Who is, by St. Paul, said to be a Prophet, and that his Testimony is true, Titus I. 12, 13.  
The Secret History of the Duchess of Portsmouth; Giving an account of the Intrigues of the Court during her Ministry. And of the Death of K. C. II.  
Both Printed for, and Sold by Richard Baldwin, near the Oxford-Arms in Warwick-Lane, 1690.