Feigned Friendship: OR THE MAD REFORMER.  
As it was ACTED at the THEATRE in Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields.  Satius est sic otiari quam turpius occupari. 
LONDON, Printed for Daniel Brown, at the Bible without Temple-Bar; F. Coggan in the Inner-Temple-Lane; E. Rumballd in Russel-Street Covent-Garden, and Rob-Gibson at the Crown in Middle-Row in Holborn.   

To the Illustrious Prince JAMES Duke, Marquis, and Earl of Ormond, etc.  
My Lord,  
THE Author of this Comedy having left it to my disposal, I was glad of the opportunity to make a public acknowledgement of those favours, which your Grace's Bounty has conferred upon me in the view of the World. All that know me, know that the little Stock of Reputation I have in the Town is entirely owing to the Honour your Lordship does me, to own me for yours. There are few, but will envy me the Ambition of that word, yet to be in a condition to deserve their envy, is a satisfaction so great, as cannot be concealed. To depend upon a person of your Grace's Merit and Figure, is advantageous in all respects; for as it adds to a Man's Character, it also effectually recommends him to the esteem of all People whose Quality or Understanding makes their Favours desirable. So that Interest as well as Gratitude obliges me to value myself upon it. What I here present your Grace, was some time since given into my hands, and from that moment designed for your Protection, but by the dilatory practices of some (whose design I am a Stranger to) has been kept till now from waiting upon your Lordship, for whose protection I always intended it. I am not a sufficient Judge of its worth, for though Music and Poetry are generally counted Twins, my acquaintance is but with one of 'em. Nay, I must own to your Grace that I am so little a Poet as not to make bold with your Character. I have more Modesty than to attempt, what I dare not hope to succeed in. Nor would I be so much wanting to my Duty as to draw your Grace to disadvantage. The design of this Epistle is only to beg your Patronage for a Play, which may want it among so many Critics as the Town swarms with, and to let all mankind know what just reason I have to be with all Zeal and Humility,  
My Lord, Your Grace's most obedient and humble Servant.   

PROLOGUE.  

OF old, in England's Golden Age of Wit,  
When Godlike Ben, and Lofty Shakespeare Writ;  
Hard was the Poet's Task, and great their Toil,  
Who strove to Cultivate the Muse's Soil.  
Our Poesy not then exposed to Scorn,  
In perfect Strength, and in Due Time was Born.  
Nine Months, at least, the Teeming Parents went,  
And laboured hard, nor was their Time misspent;  
Who in each Manly Page, without Controal  
Can gall the inmost Thoughts, and pierce the Guilty Soul.  
Now if Concern in any Face appears,  
'Tis at the Poet's Folly, not your Fears;  
Nor does the Audience Blush through Conscious Shame,  
But at the Sawey Author's Fulsom Flame.  
Each Wretch, whose Drunken Days and Bawdy Nights  
Have doomed deservedly to Starve or Writ.  
Complains he's Poor, and under that Pretence.  
Trumpets up his Inbred Impudence for Sense.  
Once in a Month a Stillborn Brat we see,  
And the Crazed Issue speaks its Pedigreee;  
For Births of Poetry like Births of Men.  
In their Diseases show their Parents Sin.  
'Tis thus the Muse becomes each Buffoon's Choice,  
And Pegasus a Hobby-horse for Boys;  
Whilst Tavern Jests fill up each Smutty Line,  
And Rakes belch out in Print the Fumes of Wine.  
Then if you seem displeased at what they say,  
They damn your Judgement, while you damn their Play.  
But to your Censure, who as Judges sit,  
Our Author does with Modesty submit,  
Nay is the first t' Arraign what he has Writ.  
So far from Huffing, that he will not Plead,  
And owns himself in the Law's strictness, Dead.  
Swears not the drolling of a Mongrel Fool,  
Not Irish-English farce is half so dull.  
Not Witlings troubled with Romantic Whims  
Can tyre you more, who to enhance their Crimes,  
And not content to Write, must act their Rhimes.  
Yet when he ought in Justice to Despair,  
He flies for aid and refuge to the Fair;  
To you a due Respect his Muse has paid,  
And tho' she's Dull, she's still a Modest Jade.    

The EPILOGUE.  

POets at best but Cooks, Dress out a Feast,  
And to his Cost invite each Welcome Guest.  
Prologue and Epilogue like Grace to what you Eat,  
Serve but to usher in and out the Meat.  
What shall we do then, for to feed a Glutton?  
We must have something more than Beef and Mutton.  
Of late your Stomaches are so squeamish grown,  
You are not pleased with Dainties of our own.  
And 'tis mere folly now to think to win ye  
Without Balloon or Signior Clementine.  
Thus we (God knows) to furnish out the Treat,  
Pay more for Sauces than you do for Meat.  
And further then, expects your Indignation,  
And dares not think of aught but his Damnation.  
He plainly owns that he to gain his Cause,  
Wants as well English, as Outlandish Sauce.  
Humour, to give an Edge to your Delight:  
To smooth your Brows, and whet your Appetite,  
Is what he durst not, or he could not write.  
Yet pray consider  you pass his Doom,  
Will it look well to Damn you know not whom?  
He's Fool enough, yet wants the Poet's Face,  
To own his Name, and Print himself an Ass.  
You see the Orphan Brat's laid at our Door,  
And we in justice must protect the Poor.  
We beg you use it not as good Churchwarden  
Would do a lump of Sin from Covent Garden.  
Each Witling may adopt it for his own,  
And then with them be sure it will go down.  
Nor is it in this Age so strange a Blot,  
To Father Children whom you ne'er begot.    

ACT I.  

Scene the Park.  Enter Truelove and Townley. Tru. 
MAY I believe my eyes, or is it illusion? I charge thee in the name of pleasure, speak: art thou the natural substance of Jack Townley, or some evil Spirit in his fleshly clothing?  Town. 
The very He— true Flesh and Blood, but such another conjuring Speech would strip me of my mortality. What d'ye stare at? Where is the wonder?  Tru. 
To see you abroad at this unseasonable hour, when Hypocr●tes and Women walk barefaced— May I presume to guests?  Town. 
Yes, and be mistaken— To deal fairly with you, I have business of concern, business that implies no less than—  Tru. 
Your own dear self— Business I know suits you as Religion does a Statesman, 'tis always a cloak for something worse.  Town. 
Fie, fie, you talk wildly, I must reprove you; come, come, be wise, take up in time, and live sober as I do.  Tru. 
As you do! very good, that to me, who have known thee thus long a true Son of Bacchus, a notorious Friend of the Bottle, and consequently no Enemy to the Pettycoat.  Town. 
I own the Indictment; all this may have been, but times and resolutions are altered. You shall see me shortly—  Tru. 
What, in the name of Whimsy?  Town. 
A grave serious Lover. I am come already to Melancholy and Contemplation, and 'tis hop d I may in time arrive at Rhyme.  Tru. 
Then thou wilt be a public nuisance to all companies. A Lover or a Poet separately are downright Lunatics, but where they meet 'tis frenzy upon frenzy, bu● heark'ee Jack, art thou really in earnest?  Town. 
Last night this reformation began, I retired soberly at ●ine, went to bed spent the night in meditation, and am come hither this moreing to play the foo● very deliberately.  Tru. 
Prithee how! Certainly 'tis something entertaining, but be it what it will I am prepared to believe all after what I have already heard, which I no more thought than that a Lawyer would refuse a fee, or a Courtier keep his promise.  Town. 
The business is this, yesterday at the Newhouse, I talked to a Vizard, who rallied me so gently, and put me so handsomely out of conceit with my own Wit, that I shall have the better opinion of hers for it while I live— She would not let me see her face, but to my confusion assured me she was honest and a Fortune, and to give me a sample, showed me such a hand, Harry, such a hand that egad if she be all of a piece I am in for a silly out-of-fashi●n'd, honourable Lover.  Tru. 
Very good: Proceed.  Town. 
When the Play was done, I handed her to her Coach, where she told me if I thought it worth my while, I might this morning in this very place see all of her that is to be seen.  Tru. 
And so here your goodness took root.  Town. 
It did, but the pert little baggage ran so in my head, that I could not sleep for her.— Nay I had not the poor pleasure of a Dream.— I shall be revenged.  Tru. 
You come upon reprisal it seems, and hope to make as easy a conquest of her, as she has of you: I only wish that the end may be answerable to the beginning; she have Beauty enough to subdue, you weakness enough to yield, then shall I have the pleasure of turning your Passion into ridicule, as you have often done mine.  Town. 
Heyday, what gaudy butterfly have we before us there? it moves this way.  Tru. 
Some country Elder Brother I suppose, dressed up like a Merry Andrew, for the public view of all his gaping relations.  Town. 
Oh! I know him now, 'tis a noted sharper, one Squeezum.  Tru. 
He that pressed in upon us at the Blue-Posts t'other day?  Town. 
The same. The Rogue has Wit, which I believe he has put to the stretch for this gorgeous appearance.  Enter Squeezum. Squ. 
Gentlemen, your very humble Servant; you are surprised I see at this bravery of mine. Is then this sudden change from my tatters of ancient memory to modish accoutrements so wonderful?  Tru. 
A little startled at first I confess we might be, but upon recollection are well enough satisfied, that Fortune now a-days provides liberally for men of your Character, and takes care Knaves shan't fail, by being so kind to Fools as she is. While the Bank is in their hands, you can never want Cash.  Town. 
Why should they, it would be too much for a man to build his own fortunes, if he had no tools to work with. Levelling is not where to be found, nor are men more equal in Sense than in Fortune: Fools are like a Plantation, all you can make useful are your own.  Squ. 
It would indeed be hard, Sir, if we who bear all the scandal of cheating, should not share in its profits. 'Tis true the world gins to grow weary of us, but 'tis because we are not as great Masters in the Art as themselves.  Tru. 
How? will you own that? Such as you generally stickle for superiority more than an Alderman's Wife, at a City Christening.  Squ. 
O Lau, Sir, I always give place to my betters. I can't deny that they whgull the world with fair pretences of Religion and Honour, and hid all their vices in an hypocritical Ostentation of Virtue, go far beyond us, who can't help being sometimes caught in those tricks which they can conceal.  Town. 
He says right, vice is never discountenanced, till it grows public: Cheating is in itself but a venial trespass, but to be taken, to be seen, as Father Aldo says, is, before George, a point next the worst.  Squ. 
Yet there are Chemists who can extract reputation even out of that Scandal.  Tru. 
As how? I should be glad to know how much Mercury performs the operation.  Squ. 
'Tis done thus— If a Tradesman be taken cheating, it is good husbandry, and prudent caring for his Family. If a Statesman, the intention of serving his King and Country, however he was mistaken in the means, brings him off. If a Levite tampering for Plurality, 'tis a great desire he has to be saving Souls, and labouring much in his Vocation.  Tru. 
I stand corrected.  Squ. 
The Quack cheats for the publick-good; the Lawyer takes Money on both sides, that he may serve both in order to a reconciliation. The Courtier won't refuse a Bribe, because it gives him opportunity to be grateful, nor keep the promise he made you for it, that he may not seem mercenary. Thus all Sharpers, but those who are professedly so, can retreat to the Jesuits refuge, Second intention.  Town. 
Yet you must confess that your gains come easier than theirs: You enjoy the Treasure without the trouble of digging for the Ore.  Squ. 
Quite contrary, we as well as other Projectors extract our Wealth from the Fire, and our hopes as well as theirs often vanish into Smoak: When most I have named are at no pains to be rich, nay some of 'em have their markets brought home to 'em.  Tru. (to Town.) 
A Pleasant Fellow this. Well but Mr. Squeezum, how goes the world abroad? is there no new stirring in Town?  Squ. 
Faith, Sir, little. Reformation is the universal Topick talked of in all places, and begun no where. We are Sheep at a Stand, and should make shift to get over the Hedge, if our Leaders had the courage to make the leap first. 'Tis true public Houses are shut up on Sundays, so people get drunk at home. Honesty and Money are very scarce, and you will find as little of either amongst the Bankers as ever. Thiefs and Whores give off their Trades, because nothing is to be got by them, and Tradesmen are grown such Infidels, that the poor Beaus are forced to pay their Bills to get new Credit—  Tru. 
The discourse is edifying— Look out, Jack, yonder comes the Enemy, put yourself upon the guard to prevent surprise.  Town. 
Ha! 'tis she.  Tru. 
Then 'tis time we withdrew— I will but cross the Mall, and call upon Frank Richley— by that time I guess your parley will be over, and we may find you here— Adien— be bold, the day is your own.  Squ. 
Gentlemen, gi' Morrow.  (Exeunt Squ. and Tr. severally. Sabina crosses the Stage. Town. (to her.) 
A●t thou then come at last, my dear Angel, I began to question your sincerity, and feared I should not meet with you.  Sab. 
Me Sir— I believe you are under a mistake, I dare swear you don't know; may, that you never saw me—  Town. 
But I hope I shall— ●y, Madam, this is not fair to conceal yourself after last night's promise—  Sab. 
Goodlack, I warrant you are the same importunate Gentleman I met at the Playhouse; and you are so vain now to think, that design, not chance, has thrown 〈◊〉 upon you again.  Town. 
Whether design or chance, I am sure to meet you is a happiness, such a one too as I have waited for with impatience.  Sab. 
Well, to see how we ignorants that are bred up in the Country may be deceived. I— have been always trade believe that it was not possible you Men of the Town should leave your Beds before twelve.  Town. 
You may now be convinced of your error: here am I attending your pleasure at the early hour when midnight Rakes stagger home, and old Lechers steal out of Brothels—  Sab. 
Yes, I see you can rise upon Assignation, which you all answer as punctually as you do a challenge, with this difference only, that you are as much too hot in your Amours as too cool in your Duels.  Town. 
Right, Child, and good reason for it too— In a Duel Life is the stake and the winner makes but a bad hand of it— But in an Intrigue, if our expectations be balked, the loss can't be great, half a dozen Oaths, a few Sighs or so— when, if we succeed, and the fair surtenders, the pleasures of the Victory over-pay the charges of the War— Yet methinks this is not much to our purpose— If you remember, Madam, there were certain conditions agreed on between us last night, and I don't doubt but you are so much a Woman of honour as to stand to 'em this morning.  Sab. 
I was terribly afraid he would not have thought 'em worth mentioning (aside.) Yes, Sir, I do own some such thing, but upon consideration think it more for your satisfaction and my own to break than keep 'em.  Town. 
Nay, no flinching I am not to be put off with a flame: The agreement was— All of you that is to be seen, and I don't doubt but it will prove a charming sight.  Sab. 
'Tis pity to undeceive you, you won't thank me for it— If your fancy has drawn a beautiful Image, how will you be startled to see the original come short of it—  Town. 
I should be vexed, that's certain (aside.) Pshaw, you must be handsome, I know it by instinct: now I see it through your Mask— You have— let me see, black rolling eyes, a pretty little mouth, ruby pouting lips, good natural red in your checks, and a tolerable clear Skin.  Sab. 
Then my age is—  Town. 
Sixteen to a day.  Sab. 
What if I have none of all this, but am old, wrinkled, painted and toothless—  Town. 
Wert thou more deformed than a Scotch hag, I would love thee for thy Wit— therefore.  Sab. 
Prepare to see.  (unmasks.) Town. 
By Heaven the loveliest Creature under the Sun, those very charms I described—  Sab. 
Well, Spark, what think you? You will advise me now, I suppose, to keep my mask on— ha', ha', ha', what dumb, Man?  Town. 
And must be so for ever if I never speak till I am able to express what sudden pleasure seizes all my Faculties— with what admiration I see all those beauties in your single face, which are scarce to be found i● your whole Sex besides—  Sab. 
Heigh-day, this is worse than I thought for— I did not think to fright you quite out of your Wits.  Town. 
Ah! cruel Charmer, why should you ridicule those truths which Love, Almighty Love, extorted from my Soul— Yet you were kind in this a while to dally with my expectation, lest a too sudden view had raised my transported spirits to that height of ecstasy, which is insupportable.  Sab. 
And thus you begin the attack, open your trenches with all your train of Artillery in view to fright the besieged into Capitulation— I receive your Raptures as they were meant for a trial of skill, and truly I must own you dissemble pretty naturally.  Town. 
Can you then doubt my passion?— You are the dissembler now, or you won'd confess that you believe I love you—  Sab. 
Since I can't help it then to save you the trouble of a rehearsal, and myself that of hearing it I do consent to think you somewhat smitten as you are with all new faces and in token of Sovereignty command—  Town. 
And shall be obeyed with all the ardour Love and Beauty can inspire in man  Sab. 
To tell me who the tallest of those Gentlemen was that left you just as I came up— Now for my Brother's Character—  Town. 
His name is Truelove, Heir to a good Estate in Norfolk, his Person is as you see, agreeable, his Humour taking, his Wit poignant, and his Honour, unblemished— He knows how to be gentile without Foppery, Sociable without Debauchery, and is every way a complete Gentleman.  Sab. 
Truly, S●r, I am of your opinion, unless you, as most good Painters do, have given him beauties he has not, instead of defects he has— however, in recompense of this service, if you continue in this mind a few hours, you may hear farther from me till when I leave you to the pleasures of Imagination.  Town. 
Till that dear minute comes  

My wandering thoughts o'er all your Charms shall rove,  
And gather all the pleasing sweets of Love.   Exit. Enter Truelove and Richley. Tru. 
There he goes in his full career.  Rich. 
St●p him not: he is hunting upon scent; we shall meet him next double— A happy couple, you that can give a lose to your appetite, and follow your pleasure in the full cry—.  Tru. 
While thou, Frank, because thy Friends can't be without thee in the day, art resolved to prevent the Sun in rising, and run thy course of business before he gins his—  Rich. 
'Tis as you say, Harry, since you and some other honest fellows will make me pursue the pleasing game of beauty, I am forced to deprive myself of some hours sleep, to give 'em to that galling load of Life, that grave trifle which old sots call business, as if that noble creature Man were endowed with all those generous inclinations he enjoys only to plod on in one dull road—  Tru. 
To hate it more than I, you must turn Hermit, and fly all the laborious herd of mankind— But where have you dwelled these three days— that I could not get one sight of you, tho' I searched as diligently as a rich Usurer after a Prodigal young Heir, or an old bawd for a fresh Country girl.  Rich. 
Lighting by chance into Company with young Lord Frolicksome, we drank so long till he grew freakish, and then there was no stirring from him—  Tru. 
I have heard much of him and his humour— Your living in the same house gives you opportunity to know both— prithee oblige me with an account of 'em.  Rich. 
To give him his due— He has Honour, Wit, and Courage to recommend him to any Man's Friendship and Esteem, were it not for some odd frolicks which make the Town talk more freely of him, than 'tis for his reputation they should— He is now and then guilty of mad things, which because done by one of his figure, seem the more extravagant.  Tru. 
'Tis with Men of quality, as with good Paintings, one fault is easily seen amongst many Virtues, and casts a blemish on the whole piece.  Rich. 
I'faith I am particularly obliged to his Lordship's favour; he was pleased to single me out of the whole Company for his Friend, and has desired me to attend him here, in order to greater Service—  Tru. 
He wants your experience to steer him through some difficulty.  Rich. 
But hark'e, Friend, how blows the wind at my Lady's, is it still in the point of Matrimony.— Ha', boy, what likelihood of to have and to hold?—  Tru. 
Not a little, I assure you— she is none of the precise ones who call a second Marriage a Crime— She knows well enough what Nature and Education have done for her, and all the Town knows her old Lord left her worth 3000 l. a year.  Rich. 
What obstacle then can put a stop to your happiness— You, I take it, have more Wit than to slight the enjoyment of such a Woman and such a Fortune— And she should have more Youth about her than to forget how much time she has lost in an old Man's arms—  Tru. 
I have nothing to dread from her aversion or nicety— all my fears centre in her old Uncle Sir William Loveland,— he is for Titles, and thinks that income will make her Her Grace, at least.  Rich. 
That Uncle may be useful (aside.) The old Banker, you mean, who thinks every man's virtues are sealed up in his Bags, and never looks farther than the Writings of an Estate for his Character.  Tru. 
Damn him, a mere muck-worm, who has kept perpetual Lent these thirty years, under pretence of mortification, when indeed it was only to save two dinners in a Week. Would he were dead—  Rich. 
Dead! he is immortal, and can live by the air— Death he slights in all ●hapes, since he has braved him in his worst of famine— But what harm can he do ●ou?  Tru. 
My Lady in hopes to get by him, seems politicly to leave all to his management— This Authority he uses to declaim against Youth and Extravagance, not forgetting a Friend of yours—  Rich. 
Old men will talk, we should take no more notice of them than of a cursed Cur, who, tho' he can't by't, will be still showing his Teeth.  Tru. 
Let him rail on— she, I think, likes me ne'er a jot the worse for his rough ●raught— therefore I am satisfied—  Rich. 
'Tis such a satisfaction that were I so near enjoyment as you are— I ●hould curse the lazy hours that retarded my bliss, and think all the time between ●he and it one tedious Scene of night and horror— She has charms would give life to age and make impotence vigorous— A Face—  Tru. 
You are transported, but I impute your Raptures to kindness for me, and forgive 'em.  Rich. 
You hit the cause. I can't see the man I love so nigh being entirely hap●y without sharing in his joy— 'Tis now the hour I should meet my Lord— ●ake a turn or two, and I'll be with you if I can—  Tru. 
G'morrow.  Exit. Rich. 
(Solus.) Love, what canst thou not do? Friendship is to thee what honesty ●s to interest, a mere Servant to be kept or turned off, as thou pleasest— I know 'tis ●a●e to rob him of her— Yet, if I do not, I rob myself of Rest for ever— My passion is ●ow grown to that height, that no difficulty can bar the discovery; nay, I had ●ike to have told him what a Villain I am grown— Yet, since I am got thus far, on ● must, for it is a sure Maxim in Policy, to be a happy Rogue a man must be a great one—  Serve. 
(to him) Sir, my Lord Frolicksome?  Enter Lord Frolicksome, Lord F. 
Your Servant, Mr. Richley— I thought to have surprised you at home, but understand now you are generally a very early stirrer.  Rich. 
True, my Lord, 'tis a custom I always use: Business and Pleasure are to me what Wife and Mistress are to modish Husbands—  Lord F. 
One you endure out of necessity, because you are linked to it, the other you seek in hopes to find a real delight in it—  Rich. 
Even so— and I manage 'em accordingly, taking care to weary myself with one at home, that I may be more eager in pursuit of the other abroad.  Lord F. 
As good a Sportsman as you are, you love to stand upon the sile sometimes, I perceive by your baulking your Glass, and observing your hour as precisely as a Hen-pecked Cuckold, who dreads civil broils at home, when the Gallant has failed his Wife's Assignation.  Rich. 
Your Lordship was too hard upon us— i' my Conscience I believe you thought we could out-drink the Quorum at a Quarter-Sessions, or the to●ing Clergy at a Visitation— else you would not have plied us so.  Lord F. 
That was nothing, we took our half flask a Man standing, after you were gone, and about morning bravely marched our rounds in the Neighbourhood here— fell foul upon Overd●ne's Lodgings, entered, and found Squeezum hugging the whore, while an awkard Country Booby called No-wit sat snoring by in the two armed chair, and she was lightning his pockets—  Rich. 
You have seen the Monster then— I knew his old Sire, a good hearty substantial Clown he was who scraping together a little pelf, bred this Oaf at School, gave him a smattering of the learned Languages, and sent him away packing to the University—  Lord F. 
Where no doubt he improved—  Rich. 
He picked up all the Debauchery of the place, broke his Father's heart, and jampt into his Estate— He is now come to London for accomplishments, and has accordingly provided himself with such a Tutor as you saw— but pray, my Lord, who is this Overdone?  Lord F. 
A cast Mistress of mine— whom, finding too familiar with my Footman, I turned lose to the World— She has been since kept by several— but her saucy pride soon made them weary of her, and her, I suppose, of getting her living that way— therefore she intends to provide herself with a Fool of her own and will easily compass it if No-wit be what you describe him— for she neither wants beauty to bait her trap, nor cunning to keep the prey—  Rich. 
Leaving them to one another may I be so happy as to know your commands?  Lord F. 
Why, I'faith, I want your advice— the young Lady I spoke of t'other day gins to encroach upon my heart, and I am in doubt whether I shall expel her by dint of resolution, or let her take quiet possession—  Rich. 
Never resist a good motion— I see nothing you can apprehend of ill Consequence in the Intrigue if her birth be answerable to her person and humour.  Lord F. 
There's the mischief on't— I have been at the pains of enquiry, and find her to be our near Neighbour, Sister to the Lady Generous, her name Eugenia, her Fortune 6000— but am vi●hal informed, that she has often professed I should be the last Man she would admit for a Lover.  Rich. 
Therefore the first— I thought you had been better read in the Sex, than to be ignorant that 'tis a Stratagem used in Love as well as War, to give out they intent to sit down before one Fort, and then bend their Arms against another—  Lord F. 
That I can't tell— but I'm sure, if she thinks me worth conquering the will meet with no difficulty in the enterprise— One Summons, and I Surrender upon discretion.  Rich. 
Never doubt it— she reserves you for her own, or she would never speak so slightingly of you before Company— Women are like sly Traders, who undervalue the Commodity they design to buy, before others, that they may have it the cheaper themselves—  Lord F. 
You ●id me hope then.  Rich. 
Every thing— To be assured of a man's own Courage is half way to a Victory— How will you proceed?  Lord F. 
Improve the small acquaintance I have with the Sister, and make the Onset in person— for I long to be delivered of this burdensome secret, more tedious to a Man of my Complexion than a Maidenhead to a Girl of Sixteen— shall we dine together—  Rich. 
If possible I will wait upon your Lordship, about one—  Lord F. 
Adieu—  Exeunt severally. Enter Lady Generous and Eugenia in disguise. Eug. 
For a young Bully I huft it out pretty well, especially when I found what kidney my man was of— These breeches allow so much liberty, that I shall be loath to part with 'em— but to my Lady, to you I dare own that failing, tho' to all the World beside I pretend he is my aversion—  Lady G. 
But what dost thou mean by this habit?  Eug. 
Mean: To do such things under a pretence of imitating his humour, as will make him ashamed of it, and by letting him see how ridiculous the copy is, guess what the Original must be.  Enter Townley. 
Who is this making towards us?  Lady G. 
Townley by my life, the very Spark Sabina was so taken with at the play last night— He is her Brother's Companion and Confident— ha'! let me see— it shall be so— Sister a word.  Whisper. Town. 
(Walks round) My Lady Generous! that close whisper bodes no good to Truelove's amour—  Lady G. 
Ha', ha', ha', Well— I protest, Sir Francis, you are a pleasant, Gentleman and rally so agreeably! I shan't forget your description of Mrs. Wouldhavemore a good while, ha', ha', ha'—  Town. 
Worse and worse— I am too good at guessing I see.  Eug. 
My only study is to please your Ladyship—  Town. 
Say you so Friend— g'ad then I must interrupt you— GI' morrow to your Ladyship— You would not lose the fine morning—  Lady G. 
But did not expect so good Company as Mr. Townley.  Town. 
Small want of that I believe, Madam, while this Gentleman is with you—  Lady G. 
Truly we have passed an hour or two very divertingly— The Mall afforded us a large field of satire, and this Spark— I thank him, has managed his province much to my satisfaction— He comes up just to your pitch of Malice and Wit— I fancy your humours be very suitable— I must have you acquainted—  Town. 
I am always ready to be a Servant to merit— Sir, I shall be proud to know you better—  Eug. 
You are courtly— My Language is as plain as my Meaning, I can only say I thank you—  Lady G. 
No matter for fine words— You will be nevertheless grateful to me for the want of 'em— Since I find your other qualifications no way short of my Uncle's Character—  Town. 
'Tis as I imagined— poor Harry is to be cashiered to make room for that smock●ac'd young rogue— I'll try her however— Mr. Truelove would have been glad my good luck had fallen to his share— but Fortune does not always favour the deserving—  Lady G. 
Your Friendship speaks this— You know constancy is a scandal to a man's Judgement— the Witty and gay make their court to Variety— She is your Mistress— We only properties to serve your ends— we shall be in a humour to be even with you—  Town. 
'Tis not Wit but Affection which makes men such Weathercocks— particular follies should not be charged upon the kind— You may as well say all Statesmen love bribes, and all Judges will be Knaves, because some of the first have sold their country— and not a few of the latter sleep away justice—  Lady G. 
When his leisure serves he knows where to find me— but I would not disturb his more weighty concerns; so pray tell him—  Exeunt led by Eugenia. Town. 
(Solus.)— So kind already— Nay then I see what must follow— Now can she no more resist the temptation of that effeminate look, than I can forbear loving, tho' I know its consequences—  

So the rich City Spark, while yet unwed,  
Sees the horns flourish on his Neighbour's head,  
And laughs: Yet takes not warning by their fate  
Till his own forehead tells him 'tis too late—   
The End of the first Act.    

ACT II.  

SCENE Overdone's Lodging.  Enter Squeezum and Overdone. Squeeze. 
HE is your own never fear— Question not my management— If you be not Madam No-wit before to morrow night, may I become the scorn of my fraternity— And be all my life condemned to haunt threepenny Ordinaries, and Cully young apprentices—  Over. 
Nay, I think you love your own interest better than to deceive me— a thousand pound is a great rate for a Fool— they are a plenteous cheap commodity— The Town swarms with them, they are as common in the Side-boxes, as Vizards in the Pit— Yet the Sum is yours, complete it when you will— Remember that, and think how much it concerns you to bring him to the lure.  Squ. 
Here's my hand— 'tis done already— You shall not only marry him, but—  Over. 
Leave the ordering of him to me— I shall deck his brows. If he does not carry his horns as high as any Stag in his own Park, then say I don't know the Town— I wish last night's Accident does not give him a qualm—  Squ. 
If it should have a cure for him— He will be here immediately to receive some instructions from me— be you prepared within for his courtship (Exit Over.) Stay, let me consider— can I in honour consent to ruin a your fellow thus? No— But will honour keep me from starving? No again— therefore a Villain I must be— However, before she becomes sole Proprietor, 'tis sit I shoul● make the best of him— I must think— 'tis feisible that, and may yield well, ●● least secures her fear—  Walks thoughtful Enter No-wit. No. 
How goes it Bully Rock— how now, alamort?— what contrivance is hatching in thy pericranium?— What noble Exploit, old Charon, hast thy designed for thy Achilles?— shall we roar it away, rantum tantum, helter skelter? hey-boy, Speak—  Squ. 
Sir.  No. 
Now by the Immortal Glory of my great forefather's, leave this Sullenness or I will let thee know foul discontent dwells not in my presence— Gadsbud, I am Heroical—  Squ. 
Ah! well said, i'faith, Squire— those are reviving sounds fit to dispel melancholy, and inspire courage— is not this better than, Yes forsooth, and No forsooth—  No. 
Perish the Clownish phrase, and they who use it— Breeding and honour be my province—  Squ. 
Good again— You come on finely— Now to Repetition— D' you remember what I told you of an Accomplished Gentleman's behaviour.  No. 
That he is to do all things with Affection, and a design of being singular— to beat his Footmen that he may dismiss 'em for ask Wages— and run in debt where he never designs to pay, purely for the pleasure of disciplining his Duns in a morning—  Squ. 
To be the first that gins a quarrel, but the last to engage in it— To be seldom Witty or honest, always noisy, and for the most part to be impertinent.  No. 
To dress, eat, drink, and Whore modishly— To do every thing in vogue, but sight— To damn good Poets, while he is repeating his own dull Lampoons— and act the Fool so naturally in the Pit, that the Audience shan't mind his portrait on the Stage—  Squ. 
Right— He should besides admire himself before his Mistress— be always praising his Shape, Air, and Mein to her— Never come where there is a Looking-Glass without acting all his postures before it— or where there is not one, without complaining of the want of it— In short, he ought to be particularly fond of what the ill-bred wiser part of the World count ridiculous—  No. 
You promised me yesterday to put me forward with the Women— Your Instructions on that point—  Squ. 
The thing is easy— If you have ill Nature enough, 'tis but railing at 'em to one another, taking special care to find fault with the celebrated beauties— To set up for discretion and secrecy, and be liberal to the Chamber maid.  No. 
Very well—  Squ. 
Be uneasy in Company— 'twill look like a man of Intrigue— Produce all your Letters, though they be your own Writing— Swear every scrawl came from a sine Woman, when 'tis an ill-spelt dun from some needy punk that wants subsistence.  No. 
Excellent.  Squ. 
But nothing will stand you in so much stead as impudence and importunity. ● have known a great many Physicians get into practice by going to see Patients, whose only disease was their coming so often— and a great many men sought too by the ●adies, only because they believed them in favour with others— Not but to be familiar without encouragement may be very serviceable—  No. 
Gad's me, now you mention Familiarity, it puts me in mind of my Lord what's his name— methinks he was somewhat too familiar with your Cousin last night— I did not like his talking to her after that free rate—  Squ. 
'Sdeath, Sir— I hope you do not question my Relation's honour— if I thought you entertained the least suspicion to her prejudice, by this light I would make your Carcase worms meat instantly.  No. 
O Lord, O Lord! her prejudice— Not I, as I hope to be saved— I have more respect for her and you than that comes to— You quite mistake me, I only say, 'twas not very civil in him, and so would have told him, Gadsbud— If I durst— I wonder you would bear it—  Squ. 
Do you think I will— If I had not known what a fright a naked Sword puts her into— by Jove this arm had laid him breathless at my feet— And were it not for the robbing you of the Glory of serving your Mistress, he should pay dearly for the affront— But you shall challenge him—  No. 
Thank you for that hearty— You would have me hanged out of the way for breaking the Law— but I shall take care of one— Challenge him! marry Heaven forbid— The Law, Sir, the Law, remember the Law—  Squ. 
(Taking him by the Ears.) Your Cowardice, Sir, your Cowardice— remember that, Hangdog, do— Thou impudent stinkard, darest thou mention the Law to me, who know, 'tis but a Cloak for thy fear— Now could I find in my heart to swinge thee damnably, if it were not for taking the revenge out of his hands— He shall know what you said of him—  No. 
So that I shall be pricked inevitably (aside.) Nay but Sir, Tutor, Mr. Squeezum—  Squ. 
Damn you—  No. 
He is obdurate I fee, and must be mollified— I will even send him twenty or thirty yellow Boys to melt him—  Squ. 
(as to himself.) An ungrateful rogue too— One for whom I would have done so much— she will never endure him if once she hears he is a Coward— what can I do with him—  No. 
Poor man! how he considers for my good— Come, come, it shall never be said, that we parted about such a trifle as murder— therefore—  Squ. 
Has the Devil possessed him— he won't fight sure—  No. 
As you are my Friend, I must desire you to carry him this Glove, and ask his in exchange—  Squ. 
That indeed is the Country fashion— ha'! 'tis heavy— what have we here? a score of Lewises by my life— this is rhetoric, I understand— since I see you dare do so much for her honour, she shall thank you for it within— as for the Quarrel— he was in drink when he gave the affront— we will even let it fall—  No. 
'Gad, and so we will— for to say truth, I had rather conside in my heels than my hands—  Squ. 
Allons— my brave Pupil—  No. 
My Learned Tutor—  Ex. Embracing.  

SCENE changes to the Street.  Enter Eugenia in her disguise, followed by Fiddlers and Linkboys — Richly observing her. Rich. 
This is not another Pretender I hope— if he be he is the maddest Lover that ever I saw— I'll stand off, and observe him a little.  Eug. 
He has followed me as I wished—  Rich. 
What can he mean by a Serenade and Flambeaux at this time of day— I'll be so impertinent for once as to inquire, if it be but to be better acquainted with his humour— Pray, Sir, if a Stranger may be so bold, how long has this sort of gallantry been in fashion?—  Eug. 
As long as I have thought fit to make it so— I am sorry you are so little acquainted with the Town as not to know I am an Original— My appearing in any thing makes it an authentic Fashion— I am always for something Extravagant and Novel, and would no more make Love than dress twice in the same way—  Rich. 
Your Genius to Vanity is particular— for egad I am sure it can't be imitation—  Eug. 
To deal frankly with you, I can't tell you what it is— 'tis both and neither— for as I would owe nothing of singularity to another— so I would not be outdone in any thing that is humorous, and will make a noise in the World.  Rich. 
In my opinion you have taken an effectual way to satisfy yourself—  Eug. 
Yes truly, the success has answered my design pretty well— but I am told Lord frolicsome still attempts to go beyond me— which if he does I'll be content to quit all claim to Eugenia's heart, and engage my Honour she makes him happy, and that she is not much inclined to at this juncture—  Rich. 
By your intimacy with the Lady's Secrets, you should have a great interest in her—  Eug. 
Who I— O Gad by no means— I never made any address of this sort before— but that is not material— I have learned that French trick of State to keep Pensioners in the Enemy's Court, who inform me of the most secret transactions— from them I received this advice, with an additional assurance, that this person of mine, which as you see is no despicable one, is as dear to her as her own—  Rich. 
He is handsome and knows it (aside) So you are resolved to beat my Lord at his own weapon, and blow up all his devices by this Countermine— 'tis an odd way— I wish it prove lucky— so, Sir, a good Morning to you—  Eug. 
Ha', ha', ha'! how easily the Fool was caught, he chopped so greedily at the hook, that I had scarce time to bait it— Now will he away to my Lord's with this Story, who will no doubt be sufficiently vexed before he comes, at some other Tricks I have played him— If this attempt does but prosper I shall have Monuments reared to me in after ages, and be immortalised in tuneful Ditty by the name of the Mad Reformer— but I should dismiss my attendants.  Enter Townley, and Truelove, a Woman comes up to Townley and gives him a Note— in the mean time Eugenia pays the Music.— To. 
To me Child?  Wom. 
Yes, Sir, if your name be Townley, but I shall soon know whether you be the man I am sent to, by a peculiar Virtue he is master of—  To. 
Paying those of her Profession well, She means (aside.) Let these witness for me—  Wom. 
Their Evidence is sufficient— I suppose you have your Directions there— Ex.  Tr. 
So, Jack, you have your Agents abroad—  To. 
I don't know what this means— reads—  
If you have any respect to your Safety and Honour, you won't fail to come immediately into the Park, and receive advice that concerus both from— Sylvia, Who this Sylvia is I can't tell, but she is a Woman, and for aught I know a handsome Woman, which is a sufficient charm to conjure me whither she pleases. 'Tis a Citation, Harry, that calls me from you— Woman's business, and that you know must be minded—  Exit. Tr. 
Seeing Eugenia. By Townley's description that should be the young Knight— who has poached up the Game for which I have so long beat the Bush— I will even accost him (coming up) My name is Truelove Sir—  Eug. 
It may be so, Sir,— but what is it to me, Sir,— shall I get any thing more by it than if it were Sr. Solomon Single, Sr. Nicholas Cully, or any other Fool's name you are pleased to pitch upon—  Tr. 
Yes, I'll tell you what you are like to get, I shall perhaps take occasion to cut your Beauship's Windpipe for daring to pretend to my Mistress the Lady Generous—  Eug. 
I cry you mercy indeed— You are the Lover it seems, upon whose ruins my happiness is to be built— Alas! Sir, I am sorry it should fall to your lot, for I vow 'tis great pity a handsome proper Gentleman should be baulked so— But Destiny and the Stars decree our Fates, and we must submit to 'em—  Tr. 
'Sdeath, d'ye make sport of my misfortune?— thou art too much a Boy to give me that satisfaction my loss requires, or I should soon make you change your note, young ganymed, I should—  Eug. 
You were pleased to intimate something of a loss— III luck will make a man peevish— But pray, Sir, of what nature may this loss be— I would fain condole with you—  Tr. 
Don't provoke me too far, Minion, don't, lest I forget myself so much as to chastise thy Insolence— Let it suffice that she prefers you, and be gone now when Love and the thought of her checks my just Fury—  Eug. 
By what power, if I may be so inquisitive, do you command thus?—  Tr. 
My own— I wear my Warrant here—  lays his hand upon his Sword. Eug. 
And is that all— Why I have just such another for my stay [lays her hand on hers] and for aught I know as good a hand to it— so that d'ye see, Sir.— if you have no other Authority, 'tis more than probable that I shall keep my ground still—  Tru. 
That's soon tried— 'tis but producing both, and we may easily know which is be obeyed— therefore, Sir, draw—  Eug. 
I have fooled too long— if my invention does not relieve me quickly I am un●●●e, and shall be forced to discover myself before my Plot is ripe— Oh I have be●●●ught myself—  aside. Tru. 
Come, Sir, you are tedious.  Eug. 
I have weighed the matter, and tho' I may perhaps incur my Lady's displeasance by hazarding her reputation so publicly, I must not be braved [loud] I hope 〈◊〉 hears.  aside. Tru. 
He says true, this will incense her more, but I have waded out of my depth, 〈◊〉 must through— Come, Sir, prepare, I hope you are prepared to die.  Eug. 
I have generofity enough to make the same wish for you— have at you—  Lady G. appears above. L. G. 
Hold, hold— Sir Francis, I am very sorry you should by this miscarriage give ●● just reason to lay aside those thoughts I had entertained in your favour— as for 〈◊〉 Gentleman he has given me sufficient proof how real all his protestations have 〈◊〉— from you I take it extremely ill—  Eug. 
I doubt not but your Ladyship will acquit me of the guilt, when you know 〈◊〉 small my share was in the Crime—  ●. G. 
I wish your defence may be plausible at least, that I may have some colour to ●●●give you— You shall have your hearing within—  Exit Eug. Tru. 
I hope, Madam, you won't be partial— Give me but leave to clear myself, 〈◊〉 you will find this rashness rather only an excess of Love than any thing else—  ●. G. 
As it comes from you, Sir, I don't so much as think of it— therefore you 〈◊〉 not trouble yourself for a set Apology— All your rhetoric will never make 〈◊〉 more favourable in my Opinion of you than I am now— and what that is I leave 〈◊〉 to judge—  Exit. Tru. 
Judge quoth— a— I judge I have made a fine hand of it, ruin'd myself with 〈◊〉 Mistress, and given my Rival just cause to triumph— Thus it is in all things; the ●●●er our hopes, the nearer still the disappointment— It is in Love as in all other ●●●eases, a short interval of strength precedes death—  Exit. Re-enter Eugenia, Lady Generous. Eug. 
I have not recovered the fright yet.  ●. G. 
Your Valour was hard put to it, that's the truth on't— I fancy you would 〈◊〉 been glad of your Petticoats again when he drew upon you— IT was happy I ●●●c'd to be within hearing—  Eug. 
It saved my Honour— I was at the end of my Valour, just ready to turn Recre●●● and yield Arms and Mistress to the Conqueror's discretion— Methinks you deal ●● hardly with a man whom you design for your Husband—  ●. G. 
That cannot be, Child— You can never use a man so ill while he is your Ser●●●●, as he will you when he is your Master— People may talk of our Privileges and ●●●●ority over the other Sex— but we all find sooner or later, that our Mock-reign ●● but a short prelude to their Tyranny—  Eug. 
Thank ourselves—  L. G. 
Ourselves!—  Eug. 
Yes ourselves— that is our Pride— If we gave them better usage we might expect it in our turns— but 'tis a mistake to think Lovers are like our Dog● the fonder for beating— Man is a sly Animal, that carries Peace in his Face but if ever you fall into his Clutches you will be sure to be paid your own wit● interest—  L. G. 
But then there's that Darling Pleasure of our Souls, that Idol of Woman kind, mischief in it— Which—  Eug. 
Often falls heaviest upon us, the Authors— too many Impositions from a M●stress are as dangerous as from a Prince— 'tis ten to one, but they make the Subject Rebel, and then nothing e'er reclaims them to their Obedience—  L. G. 
You think, it seems, that the state of Love like all others, can admit 〈◊〉 no Female Regency— IT would please you to see all the Sovereignty in the Me●● hands—  Eug. 
Don't mislake me— I have as great an itch of Rule as any of my Sexbut I would have our Laws contrived so easy, that so Love should be a happiness, and the indisserent Railer looked upon as the most ridiculous of Mankind—  L. G. 
Very good— You will allow us, I hope, when the trust is great, to try b●fore we conside—  Eug. 
Provided your Trials neither carry too much suspicion, nor be too oft●● repeated—  L. G. 
Not suspect them said you?  Eug. 
Why not?— A Generous Lover resents a suspicion from his Mistress, a Man of Honour does from his Friend— it cancels all Obligations, and leaves us li●● Chemists to curse our own Curiosity for making unnecessary Experiments— And 〈◊〉 try a Man too often looks more like Pride than Caution.  L. G. 
You are a notable Advocate I swear— 'tis pity but the Men knew what Friend you are to the Cause.  Eug. 
I would not willingly they should— for look ye, Sister, I am as errand 〈◊〉 obstinate Woman as you can be, and own no Law but Inclination— Yet whoe●●● takes pains to study us, will sinned us mere Gipsies— We have our Cant as w●●● as they to keep ourselves from being understood by the World, and like the● too, can lay it aside among ourselves, and talk plain English—  L. G. 
You should be secured for the public good— if you should revolt, you 〈◊〉 betray the Sex— You know all our strengths—  Eug. 
Never fear me— but how will you deal with poor Mr. Truclove— I fancy would be pleasant enough to hear him now cursing his Stars, and ripping up all 〈◊〉 Frailties of Womankind from Grannum Eve, of deceitful Memory, to your press self.  L. G. 
Yes, yes— No doubt but he will rail furiously till his Passion is over— l●vers are like Froward Children, cry 'em selves to sleep, or fall a Laughing in t●● same Breath— We shall have him here all Ecstasy— I have an important discovery make, that will pretty well recompense his disquiet—  Eug. 
What? you will sighing, blushing, dying own your Love.  L. G. 
No such matter— 'tis something of a quite different Complexion— 'tis only to tell him that the Gentleman he brought t'other day to see his Bargain, is very willing to take it off his Hands, and has been chaffering with me about a Lease for Life of this Tenement.  Eug. 
Downright Treachery— I suppose he bids high.  L. G. 
Extraordinary Conditions— Abundance of Love, a swinging Jointure, and good comely Bedfellow, somewhat turned of thirty—  Eug. 
Which you had the Grace to refuse?  L. G. 
Not absoluely— fearing a flat Denial might exasperate him to contrive his Friend's Ruin; I faintly put him off with two or three trivial Objections, which he thinking easily answered was very well satisfied. But if my Invention does not fail me, he will have little reason to boast his success—  Eug. 
If there be any thing that has Mirth or Mischief in it going forward— I would not lose my share to be a Saint in the Calendar— therefore impart.  L. G. 
You shall know all within— But how to get True-Love hither without sending for him?  Eug. 
Leave that to my management— I have a decoy for him— But I am impatient to know your Contrivance— Let us in and about it immediately— though I doubt not but we shall agree upon it, as readily as a packed Jury upon their Verdict—  Exeunt.  

Scene changes to the Park.  Enter Townley with a Note in his Hand. Tow. 
Here have I walked till I have tired myself and Patience— It would vex me most horribly if this should be a Trick now— But why the Devil should I suspect it to be any thing else— What did I see in my Glass this Morning, that could flatter me into the Vanity of believing a Woman would send for me— Yet the unknown Fair promised me I should hear from her— 'tis her Writing then, and her Name is Silvia— Here comes a Damsel, but 'tis not she—  To him Sabina disguised. Sab. 
Punctual I see he is— Now if he stands the Test, he is the Lover I wished him. [aside.] You received that Note this Morning, I suppose, Sir—  Tow. 
And by your Question, Madam, I guess you sent it.  Sab. 
I must confess I did— You seem to me to be a Gentleman, and a Man of Sense— therefore out of Respect I bear all such, I would rescue you from a Danger I hear you are running into—  Tow. 
Faith, Madam, I shall be obliged to you for the Favour, which will be the more grateful, because it come unexpected, and from you—  Sab. 
First then, I must desire you to believe no particular Affection for yourself— no Hatred of any body else— nor any private Interest of my own, promoted this Discovery—  Tow. 
That is easily granted.  Sab. 
Then I may safely tell you that the Woman you Entertained last night at the Play, and this Morning here, has as little Reputation as Fortune, and subsists only upon that small stock of Beauty you saw— which is not so great but others may have more—  Tow. 
This destroys your Credit with me, Madam— I can't but think this is a Design— though perhaps I can't fathom it.  Sab. 
I am sorry you misconstrue me, and know her no better— I dare affirm you are the only Man in Town that is not intimately acquainted with her— She knows, and is known to all the Taverns in London; and has been Jaunted so much up and down the Town, that the Hackney Coachmen know her as well as they do their Fare.  Tow. 
This sounds too like Malice to be true.  [Going.] Sab. 
This does not take— but I have another Stratagem for him— Stay Sir, and take a Confession I should never make, did I not believe you have generosity to pity, and secrecy to conceal a Woman's Failing—  Tow. 
You have me right— now if you please proceed—  Sab. 
Then I must own, however I strove to dissemble it, 'twas Love to you made me defame her— You may spare a Woman's Blushes, and esteem their freedom as the effect of no ordinary Passion— I saw your Person and liked it— Observed your Actions and found 'em noble— hence grew my esteem for you, which time has ripened into Affection.  Tow. 
This Banter I credit as little as t'other— Yet should I be so vain as to hearken to it— I love her too well to receive yours as I ought—  Sab. 
You have no reason to despise me— My Fortunes are every way your Equals— My Face, if the World flatters me not, no bad one, and my Reputation not sullied by any Crime, but that of Loving a perverse obstinate Man— You will perhaps repent your Contempt when it is too late— and wish you had been wiser— Farewell, but remember that  

Love turns to Hatred, when by 'Slight removed,  
And we most Hate the Men, we most have loved.   
The End of the Second Act.    

ACT III.  

Scene A Room in a Tavern.  Enter Lord Frolicksome, Richley. Lord F. 
TO outdo me, did he say?— Are my Extravagances then grown so public as to countenance an Imitation—  Rich. 
So it seems.  Lord F. 
This will, no doubt, further my Designs upon Eugenia mightily, if once it comes to her Ears— I had not need have other Men's follies laid to my charge, when I have so many of my own to answer for—  Rich. 
What is already done can't be helped— but you ought to prevent the progress of it: He will stop at nothing; 'tis the maddest young Rogue that ever I met with.  Lord F. 
Handsome?  Rich. 
To a miracle— and by his Discourse seems to want no Wit—  Lord F. 
'Slife who can this be— No common Town-Rake sure— they are too much tired with their Midnight debauches to frolic at any other time— They are a sort of Bats— never seen by daylight, and only come abroad in the dark to do mischief.  Rich. 
Men that can as soon be valiant when they are sober, as peaceable when drunk— and would no more balk a Quarrel in their drink than their Glass—  Lord F. 
Hang 'em, he can be none of them— but the Town rings of his Exploits, and my Fame suffers for 'em— It must be remedied—  Rich. 
When d'ye intent for Eugenia—  Lord F. 
I have sent my Man to know if a Visit this Afternoon want be unseasonable— Oh, here he comes— Well, what Answer?  Servant. 
She'll expect your Lordship— Here is a Paper, my Lord, which a young Gentleman forced upon me at the Door, with a strict charge to deliver it.  Lord F. 
Let me see.  (reads) 
My Lord,  
UPon sight of this I advise you, as a friend, to quit your Pretensions to all sort of Humour, and to Madam Eugenia; for I resolve to be unrivalled in both: If you slight this Advice, I shall expect you to morrow Morning at Six, behind Mountague-House, as your Enemy.  Lord F. 
So then, 'tis like to come to something— Well, my young Squire, you shall be met with— The Superiority in Madness I shan't dispute with you— The Lady I must not lose, but with the last drop of my Blood—  Rich. 
'Twill ne'er come to that, I warrant you— You don't consider he is a Beaux— Fight is too rough an Exercise for his nice Constitution—  Lord F. 
However 'twill concern my Honour to go: But there's time enough to think of this— Come, here's Prosperity to all mortal Lovers.  drinks. Rich. 
With all my heart— Here, my Lord, to all kind Mistresses—  Noise within. Lord F. 
Who waits there— (Enter Servant.) What Noise is that?  Seru. 
Noise, my Lord? there's a whole Regiment without that talk of Injuries, Reparation, and I don't know what— I fat old Beldame leads 'em up, whose Tongue never lies still— She soolds, good Woman, till she sweats again, and swears she will have Satisfaction—  Lord F. 
Of whom? For what—  Seru. 
Of your Lordship, for throwing her Fruit about the Market this Morning.  Lord F. 
You might have satisfied her, Rascal— You know well enough that I have not been nigh a Market since I risen—  Seru. 
I told her so, my Lord, but had like to have had my eyes scratched out for it— One of your Men, she says, told her who you were, and she won't be Answered so.  Rich. 
More of the young Hector's pranks, I suppose; i'faith I can neither guests at the Man, nor his meaning.  Old Woman breaking in. 
Sirrah, Sirrah— not see him; why sure a Cat may look upon a King, as the Proverb says—  Lord F. 
There's no standing her— I am not Tongue-proof— Go, see 'em paid— then follow me to my Lady's— We may steal off this way, and discharge the Reckoning below—  Exit.  
Scene Lady Gen— 's House. Enter L. G. Eugen. Sab. L. G. 
A Man of the Town, and so constant— to a Woman he does not know too? 'tis incredible.  Eug. 
Rather very probable— 'tis ten to one but what you miscall Constancy, is only an obstinate desire of knowing her— Curiosity has often more share in Passions than Love—  Sab. 
That I suspect— I have one Plot more to try him, in which I much engage my Brother— If he resists that as firmly as he did the other— Virginity Adieu— and Wedlock I embrace thee—  L. C. 
Does Mr. Truelove know you are in Town?  Sab. 
I believe not— Sure I should have seen him before now if he had—  Eug. 
No matter— I am glad he does not, for Reasons you shall be hereafter Acquainted with— [Too L. G.] this will draw him hither very opportunely— When he comes I shall take care to disabuse him, and let kim know how you dissemble.  L. G. 
As you please— You have my Consent.  Coldly. Eug. 
Lose no time— but send for him immediately— My Sister, and I have Business for him to manage, which may turn to his Advantage, and your Satisfaction—  Sab. 
I'll dispatch a Messenger, and wait on you in a Minute.  Exit. L. G. 
If I may disturb your serious Contemplation— Pray Madam, what Sage Contrivance lies brooding in your Matchiavilian Brain?  Eug. 
I was considering how to receive my Lord when he comes— whether with the stately Port of a Court Lady, the easy freedom of a City Wife, or the affected Toss of a Modish Cocquet.  L. G. 
Thou art a mad Girl— But how do your Plots succeed—  Eug. 
To my Wish— Not a Trick I have played him, but is by my means come to his knowledge.  L. G. 
Well, and what use can your Wisdom make of that?  Eug. 
If he makes any Advances to me, as I suppose that is the Intent of his Visits— then will I produce the black Catalogue of my own Faults, and bring him to Repentance for it—  L. G. 
'Tis vuconscionable dealing to act Crimes in a Man 's Name, and then Arraign him for them— I wish you be not the Sufferer at last—  Eug. 
Let what will come, I resolve to make the Venture— If I can but break him of his mad Humour, I defy Fortune and all her Malice to make me repent it hereafter—  Re-Enter Sabina Repeating. 

No Passion now in my free Breast shall move,  
None, but that soft and best of Passions Love,   
Ha!  Eug. 
Nay, never blush for it, Love and Murder will out— 'Tis in vain to think of concealing your Passion now— When once a Maid comes to Sigh in Rhyme, Cupid bless her, and a good Husband take her—  Sab. 
Poetry in us then is as certain a sign of Love, as Poverty is of Wit in a good Poet—  L. G. 
And 'tis not possible that a Woman when alone, should have the Word in her Mouth, without harbouring the God in her Heart.  Eug. 
Spoken like Sibyls— Women hid their Passions with the same care Men do their Villainies; and a voluntary Confession in secret does as certainly betray Love in us, as a guilty Conscience in them— To the World I grant you, we may seem what we are not, but she that can disguise her Inclinations to herself is more than Woman.  L. G. 
No, no— Dissimulation is true Vizard, which though worn constantly abroad, is always put off at home.  Sab. 
You know my Heart too well to be shamed off with a Denial, else you should not want it— I wish you would be contented with your Knowledge, and pry no further.  L. G. 
If the Theme be ungrateful, we may shift it for another.  Sab. 
Agreed— My absence from the Town, has made me almost a Stranger to it— An account of it from you would be very welcome, if not necessary.  Eug. 
'Tis not so much altered as you Imagine— Men of Sense are still searce, and foolish Fops plentiful.  L. G. 
Virtue is still undervalued, while Vice is hug'd close and made much of— Great Promises and little Performance go hand in hand at Court, and the City sticks to the old Maxim of Cheating to posterity.  Sab. 
These are Truths somewhat to grave for us— I should rather have expected a Discourse of Fashions, Diversions and Gallantry— Things that suit much better with a Woman's Capacity, as well as her Inclinations.  Eug. 
To speak of Fashions is endless— 'twould pose a good Arithmetician to count 'em. People may talk of New Fashion, but a considerate Person, will rather believe there is no such thing— 'Tis like Time either past or future, for the present is gone so quickly, you can scarce say it has been.  Eug. 
Our Diversions are all abused— The Stage! the very best of them is now become a shelter for every needy Witling, that has but Sense enough to patch up a Farce for three Days— A mere Hospital, to which all that can't maintain their own Lame s●nd it to be kept at the Public Charge.  L. G. 
'Tis grown so Scandalous, that a certain wise Reformer has pronounced it of worse Consequence to the Nation than the late Revolution, though he lost his little All by it—  Sab. 
I am sorry to hear this— the rest sure will make amends— What say you to Gallantry—  Eug. 
Nothing was ever more pretended to, and less practised— 'tis Foppery and Impertinence in the Men— Affection and Levity in the Women— Conversation is now kept up, not so much for the Advantages of it, as the Opportunity it gives to vent particular Follies— and will no more admit of sound sense than true Breeding.  Sab. 
How is the World Employed then?  L. G. 
Every one in their own Vanities.  Eug. 
Gaming is indeed the accomplishment all aim at— To Cheat gently is a mark of quick Wit— and to be skilled in all the little Tricks of Play, a sign of profound Judgement.  Sab. 
Who are the Men now in Vogue?  L. G. 
The greatest Fools— either such as are of our own growth— but have infinitely improved under the French Air— or your true Natural Frenchmen, and abundance whom you may know by the following Marks— Much foul Linen, a short Waistcoat, red topped Shoes, much Impudence, and no English—  Eug. 
Nay, some are so fond of Poverty, that they  upon the Cashiered Officers, and choose their Lovers, as the Indians do their Generals for the multitude of their Scars— As for particulars 'tis tedious to name 'em— The Box-keeper will give you a List of their Names out of his Debt— Book when you please—  Sab. 
Bless me! You have said enough to frighten a poor Country Gentlewoman from coming within sight of London— If it be thus, we must even be content with our Solitude, Visit one another once a Quarter, take up with the Fag End of a Fashion, and quietly suffer the awkard Passion of my Lady's overgrown  Son.  L. G. 
No such danger— There are those Men to be found, who bating a little wildness, are what you would wish 'em, Genteel, Generous and Witty— Our Beaux I must confess, are rather Puppets than Men— Things that have no Life in 'em, but as they are moved by others.  Eug. 
Enough of them— their Character is as Nauseous as their Company— Next to the trouble of conversing with them; I hate to hear them named.  Enter Footm. L. G. 
How now?  Foot. 
My Lord Frolicsome, and the Gent. who dined here t'other day with Mr. Truelove, are below to wait upon your Ladyship.  L. G. 
Go show 'em up— did you hear Sister,— my New Lover too, this is unexpected, he has Surprised me— Your Advice quickly how I shall use him—  Eug. 
Not Ill— it would break our measures if you should— I wish he does not know me again.  Sab. 
I'll withdraw, and expect my Brother.—  Exit. Enter L. F. and Richley. L. F. 
The near acquaintance I had with your Dead Lord, Madam, makes me bold to assure you, as I share in your loss, so I am ready to do all that lies in my power to make it easy.  L. G. 
These generous offers surprise me, so that I can scarce thank you for 'em, yet my gratitude shall always speak my acknowledgements—  L. F. goes to Eug. Rich. 
In spite of your coldness I am come once more to lay myself at your Feet— and beg you would not let an unfortunate Man perish for want of your pity—  L. G. 
My nature abhors cruelty— I would not willingly be the cause of any Gentleman's Misfortune— Yet, Sir, when my Reputation and Faith are engaged—  Rich. 
Your Reputation is safe, while I wear a Sword— And your Faith, Madam, as I take it obliges no longer than the man, 'tis given to, values it as he ought.  L. G. 
I am not of your Opinion there— Yet a 'Slight from any Man would provoke me to forgo him— I would neither have my favours thought cheap— nor my choice unworthy— therefore should I know my lover Guilty of the least Action, that might call my virtue or prudence in question, I would this moment discard him—  Rich. 
It will Work— Mr. Truelove is my Friend— One whose welfare I prise beyond my own— Yet when he forgets his respect to you, I can sorget my Friendship to him. Were it what concerned me, I should bury it in Silence— But to dissemble with a Lady of your Quality, and at the same time he pretends all the Honour in the World, hazard his Health and Fame with a common prostitute, is insufferable— What I cannot bear.—  L. G. 
This may be a trick— I will encourage him, and dive into the Mystery— If this were proved, I should not be ungrateful.  Rich. 
Proved! Why Madam, I can give you ocular demonstration.  L. G. 
How?  Rich. 
If I do not, may I become the scorn of Mankind— a by word to all honest Men— a common jest to Fools— or what is yet more intoierable, the object of your ●ate— But I desire to be heard in private.  L. G. 
You shall— A business of vast concern, which this Gentleman has unexpectedly imparted to me, makes me less civil than I ought to be— but I bope Your Lordship will excuse my rudeness, and dispense with my absence a Minute or two— ●ister pray entertain my Lord—  Exit. L. F. and Eug. come forward. L. F. 
Do but hear me.  Eug. 
I have heard you with a great deal of patience, not that I think your Heart and tongue hold any correspondence at present.  L. F. 
Scan my Actions if you distrust me, and see which of 'em points at Interest or Vanity— I loved your Person before I knew your Quality, without expecting more than a return of my passion— I do so still— If you will try me— command, and see how readily I can quit all things to gain your favour.  Eug. 
All but your Humour— You are too much wedded to that to think of a Wife— Alas! Whenever I consent to think of Marriage— The Man I choose shall be one that will lay aside his own pleasures to further mine— His Actions must wait upon my Will, and all his Diversions centre in Innocence— He must forget to be a Man of the Town— Bid adieu to his darling Bottle, shake off the boon Companion, and be a sober discreet Husband.  L. F. 
All this I can do—  Eug. 
Think better on't, hang it, I am but a Woman, a Toy, a Trifle, not worth troubling your head, much less changing your manner of Life for— consider, Sir, when once we are Married I must have no rambling at Midnight, nor serenading in the Morning— I shan't care to hear my Neighbour's Windows rattle, nor my own Maids shriek.  L. F. 
She knows me to a tittle I perceive.  Eug. 
Weigh the loss of all these dear delights, and then resolve—  L. F. 
I weigh 'em as I should, and acknowledge 'em to be the Folly and Madness— the childish feats of half-witted Fops and Fools— Actions which every Man in his Senses is ashamed of.  Eug. 
But then to be jeered by all your Acquaintance, your Reformation looked upon as ridiculous— and your Company shunned as infectious— 'tis intolerable.  L. F. 
All this does not stagger my Resolutions— I should perhaps pity the Scoffer's folly without being concerned at their Censure, any more than I should be for a Madmans' telling me I was out of my Wits.  Eug. 
That you at present intent all this I believe— but there are a thousand pleasing Temptations to make you forget it— A Lover's Vows to his Mistress like Sickmen's repentance last but till the Fit is over, and then as they were easily made they are soon broke.  L. F. 
But when performance succeeds the promise, a Mistress will be unjust to scruple a Lover's sincerity, or deny him his reward— such proofs you shall have—  Eug. 
There you meet my Wishes, let me see them— and then—  L. F. 
Ay, Madam, what then  Eug. 
I will believe you— in the mean time you must promise me to draw your Sword upon no account whatever, tho' provoked beyond the sufferance of a Man—  L. F. 
No account! Except but your own and my Honour, and I am all obedience.  Eug. 
That were to take away the merit of your service— to abstain from things which the wisest part of Mankind esteem brutal and ridiculous, is what may be expected from any Man that loves himself— But tamely to sit down with an Affront when all Men's Eyes are upon you— When your patience must brand your Name with Cowardice, and lose you in the World's opinion, only because I bid you, is the mark of an extreme passion, and what I expect from you—  L. F. 
You think it fit then that I should hear your Virtues traduced, and your Favours belied by a Saucy braggart, without telling him he is a Rascal, and taking satisfaction for the injury—  Eug. 
To choose— If I am detained, better let it rest there, than make a Quarre of it— You can't make my disgrace more private, more open you may— therefore if you would have me think your professions other than the mere effects of Gallantry, you must promise.  L. F. 
Since I can't help it— I swear by this White Hand, to perform the Conditions.  Kisses it. Eug. 
I shall put you to it [aside,] and I promise to reward that performance with my Hand and Heart—  Enter Lady Gen. and Richley. L. G. 
To doubt your Sincerity now, would be rude— Your Honour is engaged, and if you value that, or my repose, you won't fail—  Rich. 
I shanted— if my Invention don't fail me.  aside, L. G. 
His Relation has disordered me strangely, I would not have him see it tho' [aside] I begin to think of Altering my resolution— I would not willingly Sacrifice my modesty to my Curiosity.  Rich. 
You need not— Modesty like true Wit, is best seen in those that make the least show of it—  Eug. 
You can allow then, that freedom and gaiety are not inconsistent with Virtue— that a Woman may give a lose to her humour, without forfeiting her Reputation.  Rich. 
This and more— I can laugh at those who miscall Bashfulness, Modesty— and despise their formality, who eat the mention of those things abroad, they are not ashamed to Act at home—  L. G. 
Such are the Hypocrites of our Sex, who rail at all Mankind in public, yet Love all in Private— Who make their Sanctity a Bawd to their pleasures, as cunning Lawyers rail against Bribery, to get Clients.  L. F. 
Or the better sort of Quacks decline public Operations for Chamber Practice.  Rich. 
Not forgetting the Grave Reformers among us, who would Monopolise Lewdness— and forbidden others reading those wicked Plays they have got by heart.  L. G. 
We will wave this Discourse, if you please, and retire to a dish of Tea, and the Cards for an hour or two.  Eug. 
Agreed—  Exeunt.  

Scene Changes to Overdon's Lodgings.  Squeezum, No-wit, Overdone, at a Table. Squ. 
Here Cousin, the Squires good Health— he will make you an Admirable Husband.  Ou. 
I don't doubt the Gontleman's good Qualities—  No-wit. 
You are pleased to jeer one now—  Enter Maid. Ou. 
Well what want you.  Maid. 
Madam the Broker is come—  Ou. 
Softly hussy— Whisper can't you— here this way [rises] now what have you to say?  Maid. 
Nothing, but that he is come for your Furniture, he swears it shan't stand a day longer— you have had it long enough for nothing—  Ou. 
I must appease him— You will pardon me for a Minute Gentlemen—  Exit. with the Maid. Squ. 
Here's a do with you indeed [rise both] 'sdeath, was ever any Puppy so backward, when he had such Encouragement too— Behave yourself as you should, or by Heavens I'll break off the Match—  No. 
Nay, but prithee Dear Mr. Squeezum, have a little Patience.  Squ. 
Patience! you great Calf you— Zounds I have none left— you have quite worn out mine— Plague on you, take your own Courses for me, and be Damned—  No. 
Pshaw, pshaw— you shan't be angry— here's my hand, I'll do what you would have me.  Squ. 
Go to her then, and get her consent— I know she Loves you— I won't tell you all I know neither—  No. 
Does she ifackins— does the Rogue love me— Nay, nay, you shall tell me— Not be free with your Friends? Come let's hear what she says— does she like my person, ha'? I gad has this Face taken, this Shape, this Leg, this Hair— have they— come confess—  Squ. 
You are but too happy, that is the truth on't— First she says you have a very pretty Wit.  No. 
That shows her judgement.  Squ. 
Then she admires the Careless shake of your Head— the neat Carriage of your Body— the gentile Shambleses in your Gate—  No. 
Right thus—  Walks. Squ. 
Next— but here she comes— now strike up briskly to her— she Loves the Lad that's brisk and Gay—  No. 
But hates the formal Wooer— ha'! old Boy.  Enter Overdone. Ou. 
The impertinence of a City-Visitant would have detained me from you, Sir,— but I thought every minute an age till she was gone.  Squ. 
D'ye hear that?  No. 
Ay, ay, she is smitten that's certain— but how could she choose— hum, hum,—  [struts.] Squ. 
Tell your mind then— Cousin. Mr. Nowit would confer with you about a Business of moment.  No. 
[Getting behind him.] I can't out with it if I were to be hanged— Prithee speak for me [Gives him Money.]  Squ. 
The fear of a Denial deters him from speaking— He would be happy as soon as possible— What if the Wedding were to morrow?  Ou. 
By no means— what would the Town say of me, if I should be won so easily—  Squ. 
Say— you were a wise Woman— One that understand your own happiness better than to lose so good an Offer, and so fine a Person, for a mere piece of formality.  No. 
[Clapping him on the Shoulders.] God a mercy old Rock, that was a home push.  Ou. 
But how am I sure his Love is sincere?  Squ. 
Sincere enough I warrant you for a Husband— Methinks you have but small reason to question it, since he is willing to give you the last proof of his sincerity—  No. 
[Coming from behind him.] Nay, Gad, as your Cousin says, Madam, that aught to convince you— Matrimony is the greatest hazard in Life's Lottery— He that won't stick at that will stick at nothing.  Ou. 
'Tis too Sudden—  No. 
Look ye— what I propose by this quick dispatch is to prevent rumour— and finish the intreigue before any body can know I have begun it—  Squ. 
A very nice Stratagem.  Ou. 
Your persuasion and that person would excuse a Woman's frailty— But  No. 
Why there it is again now— pshaw hang but— womans ofiner spoil than make their Fortunes, by being over Modestly Scrupulous— We Men of Estates take a refusal as an affront, and seldom are at the pains to ask twice— Let Younger Brothers Drudge at constancy, who must live by it, we are above it—  Ou. 
The Fool has reason, 'tis best making sure of him [aside,] upon consideration I resolve to leave myself to my Couzen's disposal.  Squ. 
I make over my Right to Mr. No-wit—  No. 
Then there's a bargain made— I must provide a Parson and some other necessaries— I will leave you two together—  Exit. Squ. 
Fortune be praised success attends us— He is yours as sure as—  Ou. 
The Thousand pound is yours— I am thinking how to manage Affairs when we are Married— In the first place I do Solemnly Vow and Swear never to leave London—  Squ. 
Nor any of its Vices— Item, to bring his Acres hither, and him to a Prison—  Ou. 
Then will I keep my Gallant in Ordinary, besides two or three hangers on in reserve— Game without measure; run in Debt without measure. And after the Laudable Custom of most Wives, domineer over my Husband without measure— Not to mention many other Necessary Privileges as essential to a Woman's Prerogative, as Chocolate and cold Tea, are to her Health—  Squ. 
Come leave cheating, and put the glass about— alas he is departed—  Ou. 
He has a Brother or two in my Closet— We will retire thither for Consolation— Let the World believe.  

Howe'er in public our Nice Sex pretend,  
That Drinking does their Modesty offend,  
All hold the Bottle a good private Friend.   
The End of the Third Act.    

ACT IU.  

SCENE. I.  Enter Townley, Truelove. Town. 
WILL when looking well can't move her, looking ill prevail—  
Bear your Misfortunes like a Man, and scorn her Inconstancy— If she be false, 'tis well you missed her— You cannot wish your Rival a worse Plague, than such a Wife— But to Whine and sneak after this rate, as if there were no more Women in the World, is insufferable— The only way to become matter of ridicule to her, and of Triumph to him.  Tr. 
No more of your grave Morals— They are to me like Water to a Man in a Fever, only serve to make my disease more violent— all you can say shall never make me forget she is a base perjured Woman.  Town. 
A deceitful Flattering Hypocrite— One that has all the Pride, Malice and Affection of her Sex— The very Epitome of Falsehood and Dissimulation.  To. 
Fickler than a Town Gilt.  Town. 
Fonder than a City Wife.  Tr. 
Lewd as a Young Widow in her first Year.  Town. 
Ugly and impertinent as an old Maid in her Fiftieth—  Tr. 
Hold, hold—  Town. 
Nay, there is no stopping me when I am once set a going— the Alarm will run till 'tis down— she is more Tawdry and ill-bred than a Country Silly— Moore imperious and Prodigal than a Termagant Court Lady— And more Peevish than a Cast Mistress—  Tr. 
Will you never have done?  Town. 
Yes, yes presently— She is—  Tr. 
Nay then  [going] Town. 
Stay, stay— I thought you might have been for an Inventory of your Mistresses good Qualities— Prithee let me go on— I am brimful of Scandal, and if I don't find a vent for it here, shall run over where I should not.  Tr. 
No— Whatever my Rage made me Utter, she is still at my Heart— I wear her Image here, which is never to be effaced but by Death.  Town. 
Is not that a very pretty Speech for a Youth of thy Inches— Never to be effaced but by Death! ha', ha', ha'— Why every Clown Writes as much to his dear Margery— Thy Loving Friend till Death us do part, Roger— ha', ha', ha',—  Tr. 
You are an excellent Friend to make sport with my Misfortunes, when you should be studying a remedy for 'em— Lay aside your unseasonable Mirth, and tell me what I shall do—  Town. 
Do? the best thing you ever did in your Life would be to despise her, as much as she does you— Fortune and Women always  upon those that 'Slight their power.  Tr. 
No, No, I want Resolution for this— I Love her to Madness— Without her there is no joy on Earth for me—  To. 
If you must have her then— don't stand to parley, but in spite of her young Champion's seeming Valour, and her own studied Aversion— Seize boldly on your bliss, she will like you the better for it— Force is never unpleasing to that Sex, but when it makes an attempt without compassing its end—  Tr. 
To those who want such a pretence to gratify their own inclinations, I grant it is not— she was always held nicely Virtuous—  To. 
And may be still— That is no obstruction to you— If there can be a way found to secure both her pleasure and reputation, and she not appear as a party in the design, is not she bound to thank you for it?  Tr. 
But that way.  To. 
Is ready chalked out to your hand— You say she has hitherto given you all the Prooss of Sincerity, could be expected from a Woman of her Quality— That she has in all other Actions betrayed nothing of this changeable humour— but managed all with that prudence, which is not Ordinary in Women of her Years—  Tr. 
This I acknowledge— her Words were always so just to her thoughts, and her behaviour so agreeable to both, that I began to hug myself with the opinion of a Miracle— and thought I had met with a Woman destitute of her Sex's Frailties—  To. 
Very good— then may not this sudden Alteration be a reach in female Policy— to try your Temper, and see how you stood affected.  Tr. 
Probable enough! but the Knight, the handsome Young Knight—  To. 
Is a Relation perhaps— or suppose him a Rival— nay, a favoured Rival—  Tr. 
Favoured?  To. 
I say suppose him such— you have the more reason to bestir yourself, and set all your Wits on Work to get rid of him—  Tr. 
I'll cut his Throat.  To. 
Not so hasty— it may be done at a much easier Rate than Murder— Go to her, and tell her, that in spite of her contempt, you are resolved to Love her, Mary her, and Lie with her.  Tr. 
And be Laughed at for a Madman—  To. 
If you have not Patience to hear me out, God b'wy.  Tr. 
I am Silent—  To. 
Take a Parson along with you— Invite your Friends to the Wedding— I will prepare a Consort of Music to give you Joy— Do this, and she must of necessity commit Matrimony with you, or let the Town think she has done something worse— which I am sure won't suit her Temper—  Tr. 
'Tis full of hazard, and may as well lose me as not— therefore you must give me leave to try other Methods, and leave this to the last pinch of Necessity—  To. 
As you please— Business calls me from you now— that done you may depend upon my assictance—  Exit. Tr. 
[Solus] What an Age of uncertainty do we live in— No Man's hopes are so well grounded as to defy a disappointment— No Friendship so firm as to be relied on.  Enter Richley. 
Oh! Frank, such a Disaster—  Rich. 
Spare your Exclamation— I know your Disease, and have brought you a Remedy if you have but Courage to apply it— I heard of your Rupture with my Lady— and therefore took the opportunity of Visiting her, with my Lord Frolicksome, who is in Love with her Sister, to see if there were any way left me to serve you—  Tr. 
I am obliged to you, for your good Intentions— the success I fear—  Rich. 
Was answerable to my wishes— I was resolved to be assured whether she had forgot you or no— so made Love to her— She indeed seemed to dislike my Passion— but still there was no mention of you— When I saw that would not take, I told her plainly you had quite laid aside all thoughts of her, and were in Love with another—  Tr. 
What did you mean by that?  Rich. 
Mean? by making her Jealous to discover every corner of her Soul, and find where the secret Spark lurked yet unextinguished— The Mine sprung, and she appeared to be what I thought her, a Lover disguised in Anger— At first she started and Raved at your infidelity, till recovering herself, remembering I was by, she smoothed her brow into a Calm Sighed, and said she could forget you too—  Tr. 
The end of all this?—  Rich. 
Was that she took it for a Trick, and as such began to Laugh at it, till I promised to give her proofs— She is how in the Park, fasten upon the first Woman you meet— you will know by her uneasiness how she resents it— If as a Woman loath to lose you, 'tis but making your Peace at the Price of a discovery, and save all yet.  Tr. 
Thou art my good Angel, and I could Worship thee for this Advice—  Rich. 
You have no time to lose in Words— about it instantly—  Tr. 
I fly to follow your Directions and be happy—  Exit. Rich. 
And be gulled— This was a Masterpiece of Contrivance, to make my Rival a step to my own Happiness— But if he should clear himself, where is my project then— To prevent that he must be secured— here comes one shall do it—  Enter Squeezum. 
So my trusty Agent art thou prepared— are the Men and Habits ready as I directed this Morning.  Squ. 
All Sir—  Rich. 
And you can clap a Man on the Shoulder in the King's Name with a good Grace—  Squ. 
Never fear— I have not fallen so often into the hands of his Bloodhounds for nothing— I can do it with the true Smile of a Sergeant, Laugh in a Man's Face, and cut his Throat— Or like Judas betray with a Kiss— You have not told me who it is that is thus to be shamed into Limbo—  Rich. 
You know Mr. Truolove.  Squ. 
Your intimate Friend!  Rich. 
That is not material, and might have been omitted— yet I am ashamed to think such a fellow should start at the name of Friendship, and I break through all its ties unconcerned [aside] 'tis for my Interest to have him out of the way— I leave it to you to see him secured, and use him well.  Squ. 
Better than you imagine.  aside, Rich. 
Take this as an earnest of your Reward— A small Portion of what is behind— The business once done, you may command me and my Fortunes,  Ex-severally. Enter Eug. L. Gen. Sabina. Eug. 
I am sorry our Plot was quashed by this unseasonable News— I promised myself a great deal of Mirth in it—  Sab. 
There is nothing in it— My Brother Love another— a common Thing of the Town, one that Dotes upon a Fool— 'tis impossible— false as Hell— a Malicious Report, forged by some envious Friend, and divulged by his Wicked Instruments— I am sorry he was not to be found when I sent— then the falsehood had been soon detected.  L. G. 
I had it from one of his best Friends—  Eug. 
His Rival—  L. G. 
A Man of Integrity and Honour.  Sab. 
A Lover— consider that, and think what he dares not do to become Master of his Wishes— Love you know is blind to all things but the belov'd object— to which he makes his way through all obligations of Honour and Gratitude—  L. G. 
The proof of his Assertion is still to come— if he gives me that, I hope I may believe him—  Eug. 
I can't think so— Despair may force a Man to do what his reason when he is composed may be ashamed of— Therefore I would no more build my Faith upon appearance than my honesty— she that does either, will be sure one time or other to suffer for her Credulity—  L. G. 
What would you have me do.  Sab. 
Hear what he can say for himself— You are sensible that you gave the first occasion for his Crime—  L. G. 
Too true  [Sighs] Sab. 
You ought then to make way for his Vindication—  Eug. 
I told you what your Trial would come to— But I was not to be heard— There was that Darling passion of the Soul, that Idol of Womankind, mischief in it— Pray who feels the effects of it now—  L. G. 
Add not the remembrance of my follies to my other afflictions— their weight is enough to sink me— Oh! they gnaw my very Entrails, and rend my Heart into a thousand pieces— I could— but Oh? Ha! see where he comes with the vile Wretch that Robs me of his Heart— I'll make her know.  Sab. 
Fie, Madam, this Passion in a Public place, where there are so many eyes upon you is unseemly, contain ourselves— and observe—  All Mask. Enter Truelove pulling in Overdone. Tr. 
There she is now to my cue [aside] come come no struggling child, I am a common Enemy to all that put out those Colours—  points to her Maik. Ou. 
So I supposed— You look indeed like some idle strouler that wanted employment— What think you of a Lady's Service— can you play a fan— comb a Shock— Read a play—  Tr. 
All, all from the dressing Room to the Bed Chamber— there I am in my own Sphere— a very Hercules— Nothing is too hard for me— Difficulties and dangers I despise— Dare meet those Giant Monsters, Modesty and Honour, and spite of them reap the Golden Fruit—  Ou. 
You promise much—  Tr. 
Ay, ay, and will perform much— but before I enter into Articles, 'tis but fair I should see my Mistress: Nay, nay, away with that cloud— Alas Masks are good for nothing in the World— Of little use to a good Face, and less to a bad one.  Ou. 
I can't comprehend that Mystery— I always thought a bad Face was prudently to be concealed.  Tr. 
Never— a Vizard is a sort of an invitation to a Feast, which raises the Curiosity and gives an edese to the Appetite— it makes us suspect some very extraordinary thing is hid under it— therefore to have all our eagerness checked with a course appearance of homely fare, is an intolerable balk—  Ou. 
Say you so— then such as mine is, there it is for you—  unmasks. L. G. 
Sickness blast her— We may venture closer and hear what they say—  Eug. 
Perhaps you will get that by your listening, you won't be easily rid off— If you can be content to know what you are well, desist and leave them to themselves— Time will clear the Misunderstanding between you— and what you have now seen will then prove matter of Diversion—  L. G. 
I must be satisfied tho' it costs me my Repose—  Tr. 
So, so— she is within hearing, now is my time— well Madam, I am so well pleased with what I see of you, That I would venture any thing to be Master of the whole— here's my hand, you shall have Chart Blank, and Writ your own Conditions—  Ou. 
A handsome Man— They shall be few— I hate to fetter a Man's Freedom with formalities— A Rover that runs at all, in my Mind, shows vigour and greatness of Soul— The Woman who would put a restraint upon her Lover, will soon find an alteration in him; and what if left to his choice might have proved his pleasure, when it becomes his duty, will prove his utter aversion—  L. G. 
Impudent Creature! I can hold no longer.  Eug. and Sab. 
Stay, and see the issue of it.  Tr. 
For heaven's sake, name 'em quickly— Your Humour is so agreeable, and your Person so lovely, that I am impatient till I come to sign and seal—  Ou. 
To desire you should quit all other Women for me is unreasonable— What I ask is to share you equally with the rest— Only if there be such a thing as honourable Love— a hankering after some virtuous thing of Quality breeding in your heart— I must advise you to cast it from you, as you would a Snake that will certainly sting you to Death.  Tr. 
Honourable Love— Ha', ha', ha'— You can't think me guilty of such a Folly— What sigh at a Woman's Feet! to have my Service scorned, and my constancy rewarded with contempt—  Ou. 
To bear the burden of her Expenses, and be the property of her Pleasures— To spend your time and fortunes in gratifying her Vanity, and at last see the Fairy Treasure you have so long been seeking after, dropped into some Fool's lap that scarce thinks it worth keeping—  Tr. 
This bites— No, no, I love myself a little better than so— I can't deny but I have seemingly engaged in some such thing— but hang't, it was only for the name of an Intrigue, and to trifle away a few spare Hours—  L. G. 
[Unmasking] Monster of infidelity, Villain, base perjured Traitor—  Tr. 
Madam—  L. G. 
With what Face canst thou look upon my injuries, and not blush at thy own Gild— View me well, and then, if thy frighted Conscience will permit thee, call to mind the thousand Oaths and Protestations you made me to be true— Witness that Heaven by which you so often swore, and which will surely punish thy ingratitude.  Tr. 
Yours rather— 'Tis a strange thing that you Women must be as unconfined in your Passions as you please, and we not allowed the Christian liberty of following your Example— You see, Madam, there are those can like this Person, however despicable 'tis in your Eyes. I can't blame you. Truly, Sir Francis is a pretty Gentleman.  L. G. 
Name that no more— I confess it all a trick—  Tr. 
So may this be for aught I know— It is as hard to know when a Woman speaks truth, as when she wears her own Face.  Aside. L. G. 
A design to sound you, and try whether you valued me enough to resent the loss— the Effects of it are visible, since you can leave me for a notorious lewd—  Tr. 
No incivility I beseech you— This Lady is at present under my Protection— I must not hear her affronted.  Ou. 
Alas! Poor disconsolate Virtue— give her leave to rail, Sir, it is the losing Gamester's privilege— Good Lady! She is Husband-ripe— but to my certain knowledge this Gentleman is disposed of.  Tr. 
'Tis even so, Madam, Here have I fixed my happiness unalterably, fixed it beyond the power of capricious Fortune, and more capricious Woman—  L. G. 
And this is your Resolution?  Tr. 
It is— I have suffered enough for being wiser than my Neighbours— I must needs make my Court to a Woman of Quality, Forsooth— and a Fortune— but what have I got by it?— Only the experience that whoever would raise himself by Marriage, is condemned to a Slavery worse than theirs that dig in the Mines.  Eug. 
Your Honour is engaged—  Ou. 
Your Quiet is at stake.  Sab. 
You have been well used, and may again.  Tr. 
How! My Sister here too!— Nay then—  Aside. Ou. 
You have been ill used, and may again.  Eug. 
Youth, Beauty, Virtue, and all that is defirable in a Wife court you to be happy—  Ou. 
Pleasure, Gaiety, Love, Freedom, and whatever else makes a Mistress amiable, invite you to more substantial Joys.  Tr. 
[Aside] I must work her to a height, tho' every sigh goes to my Heart, and each Tear melts me into softness— I flew to meet 'em— to revel in the circle of those dear Arms, and reap a thousand pleasing sweets of Love— Fears, Jealousies, and all the troublesome attendants of Constancy avaunt— Thus I shake you off, and will be for ever free, and ever thine.  Enter No-Wit. 
Come, my Dear,  No. 
He took her by the Apron-strings.  
To pull her to his beck—  Sees the Company. 
How! my Lady fair, my Bride that is to be, in communication with another Man— By the Lord Harry, I don't like that tho'— I am afraid they are hatching Mischief which will light upon my Head— It may be I am a predestinated Cuckold—  Goes behind. Eug. 
What Fool have we here?  Ou. 
[Seeing him] His coming in the nick was unlucky, what shall I do— If he suspects any thing, I am ruined— Dear, dear Hypocrisy, thou kind assistant of distressed Damsels bring me off— hum— there's no way but that.  Tr. 
Why this demur— prithee child let us be going—  Ou. 
What do you mean—  Pulls her hand away. L. G. 
Ha! Here's a sudden change— Pray Heaven it prove lucky—  Ou. 
I go any where with a stranger— sure you mistake me, I am more cautious of my fame than that comes to— Besides, I am now another's, as fine a Gentleman tho' I say it—  No. 
[Starting out] As myself, tho' I say it.  Ou. 
O Law! Mr. No-wit— I'll vow you startled me! here's a Man for you— Do but view this finished piece of Gentility—  Tr. 
Of Foppery—  No-wit struts about the Stage this while. Ou. 
This compound of Comeliness and Breeding.  Tr. 
Of Foolery and Clownishness.  Ou. 
Now judge if I would leave him for you, who are in my Opinion just his reverse, and want all those good Qualities he is Master of— I am and will be his, inviolably his.  Looking kindly. No. 
Ay, ay— Inviolably— mind that Word Inviolably— there must be no fingering here, Sir— none at all— she tells you true— she is another's, as fine a Gentlemen as ever peeped between Scenes— I could be large in his commendations— but they say, he who praises himself lives by bad Neighbours— Ha', ha', he— Well we shall be Married to morrow, and a happy Couple we are like to be—  Tr. 
Damned Puppy—  No. 
Phoo— You are angry now— To show you how far I am from resentment— You shall be welcome egad to a small Dinner— you and your Friend— But the Lady I can't spare you, Sir— she is inviolable, remember inviolable— So bonos nocios Scignior, as the Spaniard says—  Ex. Leading Overdone— L. G: 
This was a happy turn of Fortune, prithee help me to tease him a little.  Eug. 
Stay, let us hear what he thinks on't first—  Tr. 
So— I have at length recovered my surprise— sure folly has some hidden Charms in it, or Women would not be so fond of it as they are— for my part, I can't help thinking it a Curse entailed on the whole Sex for their first Parent's Disobedience— that as she ruin'd Mankind by harkening to the Serpent's cunning— her posterity might all ruin themselves by doting on Mankind's fooleries—  Eug. 
And thus your Wisdom has determined it— pray, Sir, for which of Adam's sins was the curse of Perpetual Disappointment entailed upon his Sons?  Tr. 
Believing a Woman—  Eug. 
Not that I would accuse your Prudence of a Disappointment— I know you have fixed your happiness, unalterably sixth it— beyond the power of capricious Fortune, or more capricious Woman—  L. G. 
That you are just now flying to meet Pleasure, Gaiety, Love and Freedom in the Arms of a kind yielding Mistress—  Tr. 
Scoff on— I can bear it all, 'tis what I have deserved— yet—  Sab. 
Ay, ay, Brother— poor disconsolate Virtue, give her leave to talk, she is a losing Gamester— You understand Physiognomy— Is the Lady Husband-ripe— How stands your Stomach— Will a fine Woman and 3000 l. a Year down with you yet?  Tr. 
Do you join to make me wretched too?  L. G. 
Don't tempt his virtue, Child— The Gentleman is engaged— you would not have him inconstant to a Lady that loves him so tenderly as she does— I really believe it would break her Heart, if he should leave her—  Eug. 
It would kill her— She is certainly a passionate Lover— How readily she gave her Hand to another, rather than embroil him in a Quarrel—  Tr. 
For Heaven's sake spare me, and forgive my weakness— I can Love you still, Love you honourably—  L. G. 
Honourably— Ha', ha', ha'— What sigh at a Woman's Feet— To have your services Scorned, and your constancy rewarded with Contempt— I can't think you guilty of such a Folly— You may now be as free as Air— No restraint upon your Humour— Nothing to check your Pleasures— I would not for the World disturb you in this happy State—  Eug. and Sab. 
Ha', ha', ha'.  L. G. 
What is the matter?  Eug. 
We have been taking the Gentleman's Dimensions, to know what employment he his fit for— I think he had best turn Poet—  L. G. 
Why so?  Eug. 
Because he bears a balk in his hopes so heroically— Upon second thoughts the Man may come to preferment— he has a good promising Look, and a smooth Tongue— What think you of daily Waiter to some decayed Beauty, who will pay well for being flattered?—  Sab. 
Or Nightly retainer to a buxom City Wife, who Marries an old dull Alderman, in order to maintain a spruce young Beaux—  Tr. 
Very well, Ladies— And thus you have disposed of me— You might have been so Civil as to take me into service among yourselves— What if I were Butler to one of you— there are privileges belonging to that place— You share my Gains, and I your pleasures— or a Page— 'tis true I am something of the Eldest— yet I can Lie, Flatter, Manage an Intrigue, or sing a brisk smart Song, as you call it, with e'er a young Rogue of 'em all— Then for performance, my abilities go far beyond theirs.  L. G. 
Nay now he grows satirical— we shall never stand him— we had best Capitulate— give him Chart Blanc, and let him Write his own Conditions—  Omnes. 
Ha', ha', ha'—  Tr. 
There's no opposing three of you— Therefore I leave you all with this hearty Curse—  Sab. 
What, your Sister too!—  Tr. 
Ay, ay, you are a Woman— May you dote upon Fools, and be slighted— Have all the desires of Love about you, and be forced to live Honest, and in spite of your own warm Wishes be Virtuous out of Necessity—  L. G. 
In return, may you never be free from Love, yet never meet with any Woman but will leave you for a Fool, as the Lady did just now— So Adieu.  Exit. Tru. Eug. 
Now let us home, and thank your Stars for this opportunity of crying Quits with him— This looks like a design of his to retort your Stratagem upon you again— but see what comes of it— Thus it always fadges, when Mankind set their Wits against ours— We have ever had the better of 'em in cunning since the World began, and shall till it ends.  

In Politics themselves the Fools may Pride,  
But Fortune still is on the Female side.   
The End of the fourth ACT.    

ACT. V.  

SCENE, Townley 's Lodgings.  Enter Townley, Squeezum. Town. 
'TIS impossible— He can't be so great a Villain—  Squeeze. 
You are at your liberty to believe, Sir— But that he intended this, is as true, as that these Twenty Pieces were the earnest of a greater Reward for me to do the Work.  Town. 
Forgive my incredulity— I always took Frank Richley for an honest well-meaning Man— One that would no more do an ill thing to his Friend, than take it from him— Therefore to be surprised with this sudden Change, must needs confound me—  Squeeze. 
I was equally amazed when he proposed it, knowing the intimacy that had always been between 'em— and should have told him so, had I not seen a prospect of serving Mr. True-love by undertaking it—  Town. 
He is happy in your Honesty— How many Men in the World would have gone through with it, if it were only for the pleasure of doing an Injury—  Squeeze. 
I scorn such a temper— The lowness of my Fortunes may make me stoop to cousin Knaves and Fools— because to cheat the one, is serving them in their own kind; and to put upon the other, but making that use of 'em which Nature intended them for— I am still above every thing that is ungenerous— and now I have lost all, retain a veneration for Merit, which I am always ready to show upon occasion—  Town. 
I love your Principles— and thus embrace your Friendship—  Squeeze. 
I shall study to deserve the Honour— You are thoughtful.  Town. 
I was considering how to make this discovery turn to account— It was luckily thought on— Kind Invention, I thank thee— It is decreed— Treachery shall undermine itself, and Policy unravel its own designs.  [Going.] Squeeze. 
Won't you see him then?  Town. 
Not till I have made his Happiness complete— Something is working in this Brain, which if it succeeds, will turn that to his advantage, which was meant for his ruin— If it does not, the disappointment lights here, and goes no farther— You have communicated this to no body else?  Squeeze. 
No body at all—  Town. 
Then be it still a Secret— His trouble may work too much upon his Spirits, if he be long alone— Do you make haste to him, and divert his melancholy Thoughts— I'll follow you in less than half an Hour— One word more— Tell him nothing of any Project in hand—  Squeeze. 
I shan't— a good Morning, and success be with you—  [Exit.] Town. 
[solus] Henceforth let no Man think to know another thoroughly— The Art of double-dealing is so much refin'd in our Age, that it can put upon us even in Friendship, whose Nature is undesigning and simple— It can counterfeit openness in its closest Intrigues, and make those professions of kindness seem most sincere, which are most artificial— So true is that excellent observation—  

No Mask like open Truth to cover Lies,  
As to go naked is the best disguise.   [Exit.]  

SCENE changes to Lady G 's House.  Enter L. Gen. and Richley. L. G. 
You have indeed obliged me, and I were ingrateful not to thank you for it— But to be thus importunate for a Reward, looks as if your Interest were more concerned in this Discovery than mine.  Rich. 
Shrew'dly guessed.  [Aside.] L. G. 
A Lover should make all his actions their own reward, and ask no more for the trouble of serving a Mistress, than the Pleasure of having done it—  Rich. 
But when he is bid to hope, can you blame him for putting you in mind?—  L. G. 
Let him do it modestly— Too much earnestness looks peremptory, and bears the face of a demand, rather than a Petition— It seems to distrust my Honour, and retrench my Bounty, by making that a Debt which I designed a Favour.  Rich. 
I have no such bold thoughts about me.  L. G. 
Why do you urge me thus?  Rich. 
Because I know Anger is now the predominant Passion of your Soul, and stifles those small remains of Love, which if I should let you cool, might plead for my Rival, and reinstate him in your good Graces—  L. G. 
The Answer is free and ingenious— But suppose I should, in this heat, consent to be yours— Don't you dread the result of my calmer Hours?— Are you not afraid, that even when you are Master of my Person, he should possess my Heart?  Rich. 
Your Honour would secure those Fears.  L. G. 
Why not my breach of promise then?  Rich. 
There is a wide difference in the Obligation— Virtue won't let a Woman of your prudence dispense with the sacredness of your Marriage-Vows— But such a slight thing as a Promise never checks your Wishes—  L. G. 
You will force me to declare, then—  Rich. 
Not for the World— I know whence my happiness must be derived, and should receive the grant of it with more pleasure than  

Wretched Captives do their freedom gain,  
Or Shipwrecked Sailors scape the stormy Main.   L. G. 
'Tis hard to forget your Friend with the same ease he did me— Yet a few days will blot him from my Memory, to make room for a more worthy impression.  Rich. 
I shall wait the alteration with impatience— This rascally Boy will spoil all with staying so long.  [Aside.] Enter Footman with a Letter. Footm. 
Your Man, Sir, desired me to bring you this immediately— 'Tis Business of vast importance, and requires your present knowledge.  Rich. 
By your Ladyship's leave.  [Reads.] L. G. 
He seems in great amazement—  Rich. 
My present knowledge indeed— Leave the Town so suddenly, without giving me longer notice— 'Tis unkind, very unkind— What I should scarce have done to Harry True-love.  L. G. 
Comes that from him—  Rich. 
It does, Madam— He writes, that having abjured the whole Female Sex, and with it all the pleasures of this Town, He resolves to bury himself in a silent retreat— His desire is to see me before he goes— I can't deny him; for though I hate his beseness, I still love his Person— Your Ladyship will pardon me for leaving you so abruptly— This or nothing will make her mine.  Exit. L. G. 
How! go from hence upon so slight provocation— Why, let him go— But he may never return— What concern is that of mine? He has already forgot me, and I would— but can't forget him— Reason tells me, I ought to think no more of him— Love, stronger than Reason, says, I may and aught to think of him— Not only think of him, but see him, stay him, and make him my own—  Enter Eugenia in Man's . Eug. 
Your own! What else— Here's a stir about a Husband indeed— before I'd trouble myself for a Man thus, I think I should—  L. G. 
What?  Eug. 
Marry him out of hand— 'Tis the only Cure for your Disease—  L. G. 
'Tis a Cure that genorally proves the greatest Disease.  Eug. 
That's as you choose your Physician— Take but an able Man, I'll engage for the sufficiency of the Remedy—  L. G. 
You are a bold Disputant, to argue against Experience— I have tried it, and don't think it so Sovereign—  Eug. 
Your Lord was old, and past practice— There's the Reason.  L. G. 
You make me blush— Yet I should take your Counsel, but it is now out of my power.  Eug. 
The Blessing is within reach, if you will be at the pains to lay hold of it—  L. G. 
There's you mistake— You don't know who I have had with me here—  Eug. 
Yes, yes, Mr. Richley— I met him at the Door in great haste— What of him?  L. G. 
He received Advice just now, That True-Love is leaving the Town in a pet, with a full resolution never to see it again.  Eug. 
And you believe he intends it?  L. G. 
He is gone by this time.  Eug. 
Pleasure has too great a thank upon his Affections, to be shaken off so easily— At worst, if he should be so far transported, as to venture half a score Miles out of Town— He will soon turn back again.  L. G. 
Why so?  Eug. 
Is that a Question to be asked of a Man who has lived thus long here in full Enjoyment of all that is delightful?— What should one of his Life and Conversation do in the Country, where there is no Park, no Play, no Love, no Raillery; and to sum up all, no good Wine?  L. G. 
But in exchange, there are—  Eug. 
Innocent Diversions you would say— Such as your honest Clod-pates use— Noise and Nonsense will be very agreeable Entertainments to him!— His Humour will neither suit with the brisk dullness of the Young, nor the grave Wisdom of the Old.  L. G. 
He that will, may find Men of Sense every where.  Eug. 
That is not the thing— A great many are Men of Sense in their own way, few in his— Youth must meet a gay resemblance of itself, or it will never be pleased. Preciseness and Morosity, tho' accompanied with Knowledge, must be tedious to him— And he'll never endure to hear the Delights of his past life railed at— After all— Men of his temper, look upon the Country as a sort of large Forest, in which the greatest Wild Beast is a Country Squire.  L. G. 
This don't satisfy me, I am afraid my Lover is—  Enter Townley. Town. 
Very unfortunate in his Friends.  Eug. 
Whom would you point at, Sir?  Town. 
Not you, Sir, tho' you are his Rival, you never were his Friend, his bosom Friend— the Confident of all his secrets; the Man whom before the whole World he loved and trusted.  L. G. 
Where will this end?  Town. 
In the destruction of a Villain, if I could meet him; but Fate reserves him for a more signal justice— Poor unhappy Truclove!  L. G. 
What of him? he is well I hope. No ill accident has prevented his Journey— If it has, speak— Why thus silent? Pity my misfortunes, and do not rack me thus with doubts—  Town. 
His journey! For Heaven's sake what does your Ladyship mean, do you mock, or are you serious?  L. G. 
Serious enough, if you would be so: You know nothing of his going into the Country this Morning?  Town. 
'Tis all Mystery to me, where am I? what do I do? am I awake? perhaps he can fly; if he can't, I am sure he was just now in no capacity to travel.  sighs. L. G. 
Ha! He is murdered then; give way to my just grief, I must, and will see him; bind up his Wounds; make these Arms his Monument, and if it be possible, warm him into life again.  Town. 
I am glad to see this concern however. [Aside.] There is no occasion for it; he lives, but unwillingly; since you can be a party in ruining him: He would have come himself to tell you this, if he could.  L. G. 
What should hinder him, if he be well and in Town? I am informed he is not. Mr. Richley—  Town. 
Dares not abuse your Belief after this rate. He is too well acquainted with the cause of his absence, to tell you so. In short, he is at this very time under an Arrest for a Sum of Money borrowed of him: The other is only a blind to deceive you.  L. G. 
Now I see through his disguise, and understand the meaning of his officiousness: This was a Stratagem of his, to make my Revenge do what my Love would not. Pitch upon him for a Husband: He shall find I can be sensible of an Affront: I shall have your assistance, Sir?  To. 
Very readily.  L. G. 
And yours, Sister?  Eu. 
Through Fire and Water to punish such ingratitude.  To. 
Mrs. Eugenia!  Eu. 
At your service. You see in opposition to a known Maxim; Sometimes Women can be changed into that lordly Creature Man, at least in appearance! We can assume masculine Habits, and masculine Souls too, to serve a turn, and do a little mischief.  To. 
I know one has paid for the Experiment.  Eug. 
He must thank my Sister for the harm I did him; she was the Contriver, I but the Instrument: He knows where to demand satisfaction.  L. G. 
I'll take care he shan't trouble you; what is the Debt?  To. 
Five Hundred Pounds—  L. G. 
'Tis hard in this scarcity of Money to raise so much— But he shall be bailed.  To. 
I have taken care of that; I can release him from durance: Would I could as easily free him from the apprehensions of losing you.  L. G. 
Be that my Business, yours to bring him hither; for since we are joint-sha●ers in the Injury, we will be so in the revenge.  Exit. Townley. 
At last, I am beyond the danger of a Shipwreck— There are now no more Rocks or Sands to perish by; the Harbour is within view, and I just going ashore to enjoy that Wealth my eager hopes thus long have aimed at; all my care is for you ●ow.  Eug. 
My Voyage is as near an end as yours. One Wedding may chance to serve us ●oth; I expect my Lord every minute.  L. G. 
Why in this dress?  Eug. 
To tease him a little, I must have t'other mad fling, tho' I bened married this Month for it. How is your business to be managed?  L. G. 
As we ordered at first: The Gown and other things are not laid away yet; ● have thought of some small addition to make it more entertaining, which you shall ●now anon: 'Tis high time I were preparing for him.  Eug. 
How simply will the poor Lover look, when he finds he is caught— I ●hink I hear some body upon the stairs.  L. G. 
I'll leave you to yourself.  Exit. Eugenia goes to the Glass, takes out a Comb, careens her Wig, and practices several ridiculous postures before it. Enter Lord frolicsome. L. F. 
What have we here, Narcissus admiring the reflection of his own Face? He is 〈◊〉 taken up with his dear self, he can mind nothing else.  Eug. 
At first address I make my Honour thus— No, that is something too stiff— ●●en— Not quite low enough— here I mend it— ay, that's pretty well— ●ow for my Speech— hum, hum,  takes snush every word or two. 
●ost divine Creature, the brightness of your perfections has so captivated my dazzled ●eason— By Heaven! I have forgot my Chin-patch. Oh indecency!  L. F. 
There's a good harangue spoiled, for a rascally Valet's neglect.  Eug. 
Now all is right; [surveys herself] Stay, where did I leave off? Oh! so captivates my dazzled Reason, that spite of myself I am become your Slave; yet glory in my Chains.  L. F. 
What the Devil is all this?  Eug. 
Since they give me opportunity to offer at your feet a Heart, many have in vain sighed for.  L. F. 
I wonder he forgot himself so long.  Eug. 
The Lady's court, the Men envy me— but for your sake, Geddemmee, I despise both, and here resolve to spend the remainder of my days, to let the World know you have Charms to fix inconstancy itself! You may doubt my Truth: But command, and by yond azure Sky I will do wonders.  L. F. 
Sure he won't promise her to quarrel; that indeed would be a wonder. [Servant crosses the Stage.] Pray do me the favour to tell Madam Eugenia, I am here to wait upon her.  Seru. 
I will, my Lord.  Eug. 
[Turns about] I protest, Sir, I am very unfortunate, that my more profound Cogitations would not permit me to take cognizance of your Person sooner: Yet, cansaund me, Sir, I am yours as low as the Centre—  L. F. 
There's no harm done, Sir, unless I disturbed your more profound cogitations.  Eug. 
No, Sir— not disturbed; you raised me from a pretty amusement indeed: I would not for the Universe, you should think me so vain as to make it my Employment. 'Tis necessary to ajust before we visit, else I never trouble a Glass— Will you be pleased to use it, Sir; it is no flatterer, I can assure you.  Runs to it. L. F. 
I can scarce believe him there, he would not be so intimate with it, if it were not—  Eug. 
You understand fashion it may be; pray, what is your Opinion of this Suit? view it, view it well; is there not something of Genius visible in it? 'Tis all French, upon Honour, bought of a Frenchman, made by a Frenchman, and is now—  L. F. 
Worn by a damned English Fop— The Farce grows tedious.  Eug. 
The Pattern all the Beau monde dress by. Well, those French are an ingenious contriving People; they send us over so many pretty Devices and Inventions, so many unnecessary Fashions in a Year! those unnecessary Fashions are a great help to a Kingdom.  L. F. 
How so?  Eug. 
Oh Ged! they encourage Industry, and keep thousands in employment, that would otherwise be idle; you shall have a Man, now a days, put one Suit to as many uses as a Welsh Parson does his threadbare Cassock, yet pretend to be genteel. Now 'tis my way to keep a particular Suit for every occasion.  L. F. 
Insusserable Fop!  Eug. 
I have my dancing, visiting, gaming, and drinking ; these are my fight .  L. F. 
So I should have guessed by their freshness.  Eug. 
These I wear but seldom; I was to have met my Lord Frolicksome this Morning upon a Challenge; but he was so wise as to prefer his safety to his Honour.  L. F. 
Ha', my Rival! who has played me so many tricks— Perhaps he had reason for it.  Eug. 
Yes, yes, his Fear is Reason sufficient.  L. F. 
He was never held a Coward, sure some more particular obligation hindered him.  Eug. 
A good Jest— why, Sir, do you think any obligation particular enough to sacrifice a Man's Honour to?  L. F. 
The Commands of a Mistress would tie my Hands. Can any Man pretend to love, and refuse to sacrifice his Honour to his Passion?  Eug. 
There you pose me. But between you and I, his Mistress never thinks so much of him, as to honour him with her Commands.  L. F. 
But between you and I, she does think so much of him, and to my knowledge did honour him with this—  Eug. 
Ha', ha', ha'— I can't but laugh to think on't! She had a design to make him ridiculous to the World, and consulting how to effect it, put him upon this. He, poor Lover, it seems has been punctual to his own gulling; and I am here according to assignation to laugh at him, and toy away an Hour with her.  L. F. 
You are a favourite!  Eug. 
You seem to be an honest fellow, I don't care if I make you my Confident: I have had her a hundred times, but enjoyment has palled my appetite— This she I believe perceives by my coldness, and has proposed such a thing as drawing my Lord in for a Marriage— He will serve well enough to father such Children as she provides for him.  L. F. 
You are mistaken in him, he will father no Children but of his own getting, for you nor any Fool in England; and so he will tell you.  Eug. 
Why you don't design to betray me? Gad's my life, I would not have you tell it abroad; I designed it should be a Secret between us two.  L. F. 
Did you so? I shall cut your Throat for an impudent young Dog.  Eug. 
Help, help—  L. F. 
I would not have you tell it abroad, I designed it should be a Secret between us two.  Enter Lady Generous. L. G. 
Put your Mistress to the Squeak already! you are a termagant Conqueror I see, and give no quarter—  Eug. 
Let him do his worst, I defy him— Here's my Hand, my Lord, I'll meet you Body for Body, in any place you dare name.  L. F. 
St. James' Church.  Eug. 
I as little expected to hear that word out of your Mouth, as any Man's living; 'tis a place you never frequent.  L. G. 
Don't be too positive; there are as many Intrigues begun, continued, and ended there as any where: Devotion has the least share in those that come thither; they are all too much taken up with particular Saints, to join in the Prayers of the Congregation; unless it be when they pray for the desolate and afflicted, among whom are ranked all despairing Lovers, and superannuated Virgins.  Eug. 
And you dare venture upon a mad Reformer?  L. F. 
Dare I embrace the greatest blessing upon Earth; the only happiness all my Desires are levelled at! I receive you, Madam, as my Preserver, my guardian Angel, to whom I own the greatest comforts of Life, Virtue, and Reputation.  Eug. 
You'll repent your forwardness in a little time: Now I have begun to wear ●he Breeches, it will be a hard task to make me lay 'em aside again—  L. F. 
That shan't save you; I have your Hand, and will keep it; 'tis not in your power to draw it back.  Eug. 
We had better stay t'other Twelvemonth, and see how the World goes— Marriage is a ticklish Calling; and tho' we have a good stock of Love to begin the World with, we may chance to break these hard times.  L. F. 
It is but running the hazard.  Eug. 
You are obstinate; give me but half an Hour's time to serve my Sister in an Affair depending, and I am for you; if you take a turn in the Gallery in the mean while, you will find something to divert you; we will show you the way.  Exeunt. Enter True-love, Townley, Squeezum. Tr. 
Not a step farther—  To. 
You won't disappoint a Lady when she sends for you?  Tr. 
No, no, when she sends for me!  Looks melancholy. 
What a look there is? is that a Face to receive good News with? never did poor disbanded Officer wear a more rueful Phiz when he was petitioning for Arrears. Put on a better Countenance to entertain her, or, by Heaven, I will leave you.  Squeeze. 
Fie, fie, Sir, your fullenness becomes you, just as gravity does a Mountebank.  To. 
So, that is pretty tolerable— Then I tell thee once more, the Day is your own; your Mistress is constant and kind, your Rival discarded, and you the Favourite Lover.  Tr. 
You would delude me; I know my Fate, and can sit down contented with it.  Squ. 
Sat down! do— let another be happy in your stead.  To. 
With all my Heart, balk your Fortunes now I have made 'em for you; 'tis but my labour lost.  Tr. 
Are you in earnest?  To. 
If you won't believe me, believe your Senses, believe my Lady; here is one can satisfy you better.  Enter Lady Generous. L. G. 
No more strangeness, I beseech you; I beg your pardon for the disquiets I have given you, and in recompense offer you all you wish for: Nay, no raptures, time is precious, you will find my Sister in the next room, take your Friend with you— She will give you your Instructions.  Exit. Truelove, Squeeze. 
You, Mr. Townley, must stay with me; and however I change my Discourse, tune your Answers to it.  To. 
When do you expect him?  L. G. 
Immediately.  Enter Richley. 
He is here already— You must not see him— 'tis in vain to excuse it, I am well enough satisfied of his Conduct.  Rich. 
Townley here! I don't like that—  To. 
But Madam—  L. G. 
Pray Sir desist— I will hear nothing in his favour, who would make a May-game of me— Am I a fit Subject for his pretended Passions— I will not be affronted so.  To. 
He did not design you should.  L. G. 
Give me leave to trust my own Ears— I heard him say all the pretensions he made, were only for the name of an Intriegue, and to trifle away a few Hours.  To. 
Nay then I acquiesce— I dare defend him no farther—  L. G. 
I would not have you; he is now my Aversion of Aversions— The only Man I would shun and avoid— To show you there is no dearth of Lovers— I have already made choice of another— A Man of Estate and Understanding— Who tho' he wants Mr. Truelove's youth, has sincerity to recommend him to a Woman's liking—  To. 
May I know the happy Man?  Rich. 
[Aside] Now I fear.  L. G. 
'Tis his Friend Richley— Modesty forbids me to tell him— yet I could wish he knew my sentiments.  Rich. 
And I too—  L. G. 
How! turned Eve's dropper— Is that like a Gentleman, to know more of your Mistress' mind than she is willing you should— I could find in my heart— yet since you have heard my confession, it is but a folly to stand off longer— upon one condition I am yours—  Rich. 
Transporting Words— I would do any thing to purchase you; be it what it will, I am resolved to agree to it.  L. G. 
I'll but step into the next Room, and you shall know your task.  Exit. To. 
I little expected to see this Day, Frank, thou wert always such an Enemy to the Clogs, of for better for worse, that I should as soon have expected Liberality in an Usurer, as Love in thee—  Rich. 
'Tis not in the fate of Man to avoid it— He that had told me a Week since I was so nigh Matrimony, had been to me as ridiculous as a Lecture of Sobriety to 〈◊〉 Drunkard— Now I recant my Error, and am as you see just making a Settlement for Life—  Enter Lady Gen. with Truelove disguised like a Lawyer— and after them Eugenia and Lord frolicsome. L. G. 
When my first Husband died, I made a Vow never to be any Man's, that would not gratify my humour so far, as to set his Hand to whatever I brought him without perusing the Contents— If you dare make the venture, you know the price— if not—  Rich. 
I beseech you, Madam, don't suspect me in such a Trifle— I am only sorry 'tis not something of greater difficulty, that you might see I value nothing comparable to you—  L. G. 
You say there can be no flaw found in it, Mr. Split-cause?  Tr. 
Give me leave to know my business, Madam— Upon the honest word of a Lawyer, there is no Hole for him to creep out at— 'Tis fast and firm— the obligation to endure in Secula Seculorum, as we say— if he does not satisfy it— are you ready, Sir— do you want any thing?—  Rich. 
Pen and Ink.  Tr. 
I can furnish you— I never go without my Instruments, a Lawyer with no Ink-horn is as ridiculous as a Soldier with no Weapons— How say you, he Sir—  Rich. 
Even as you say— pray dispatch [Writes] There Madam—  Tr. 
Francis Richley— a good Hand, truly— a very pretty Hand— were you never bred up to the Law, Sir— 'tis a crabbed Study— but Men of industry conquer it— The Witnesses— Come, Sir, if you please, your hand—  To. 
[Writes] There it is.  Tr. 
John Townley— Now for my own [Writes] and there it is.  L. G. 
Henry Truelove.  Rich. 
How, Truelove! Where were my Eyes— then I find my disgrace— I am Fooled and Choosed.  Town. 
No— not Choosed— that's a hard word to give a Lady; only played upon, or so—  Tr. 
Served in your own kind, my dear Friend, or so—  L. G. 
Pray forbear, Gentlemen— Mr. Snap, do your Office.  Enter Squeezum disguised like a Bailiff, four dancing Masters like his Followers. Squ. 
I Arrest you, Sir, at the suit of my Lady Generous, in an Action of 1000 l.  Rich. 
Ha!  Offers to draw. To. 
Never vex, you are but going to make a Settlement for Life—  Tr. 
'Tis for my interest to have you out of the way— they shall use you well—  Rich. 
Very well— I am betrayed— it will be my turn to do you the favour, Sir— there is such a thing as a Debt of five hundred Pound—  Tr. 
Which you have here released to me, besides a Judgement given for 1000 l. more— How do you like the alteration?— Are you for new discoveries?— Your Head lies much towards Politics— 'tis pity you are not a Statesman.  Rich. 
There's no way to get lose, but confessing myself a Rogue [Aside] Spare my guilt— I own myself a Villain— the greatest of Villains, a false Friend— Yet forgive me this one slip, my future honesty shall make amends for it— I might plead the imperiousness of Love for my crime, but I had rather take it upon myself— To repair which, I confess the Deed— and before all this Company make Mr. True-love my Heir, for I resolve never to Marry—  L. G. 
Can this be?  Rich. 
I am ready to seal it— if you dare not take my Word—  Tr. 
That I forbidden, I must not be outdone in generosity— I restore you the Judgement— Nay, take it— and with it my Friendship—  L. G. 
Mine.  Town. 
And mine.  Squ. 
[Discovering himself] And if you please mine.  Rich. 
Mr. Squeezum!  Tr. 
You must forgive what he did for my sake.  Rich. 
Forgive! Yes, and thank him too— thus thank him [Embrace] His honesty has prevented a Crime in me— the remembrance of which must have eternally disquieted me—  Squ. 
I knew your Nature, and made bold to do you this service against your will— There are times when seeming Treachery is the truest Friendship— and to falsify a Man's trust, the only way to be just to it.  Rich. 
Experience confirms it— To prevent temptations of the like sort for the future— Be Master of me and mine.  Tr. 
Let your Necessities know me for their Friend—  To. 
Me.  L. G. 
And me— Come, gentlemans, if you please now to do your Office, I suppose it won't be displeasing—  A Dance— Townley looking discontented all the while. Omn. 
Our thanks to your Ladyship.  Tr. 
[Coming up to Townley] Why this sadness, to damp the universal joy— You are not pleased with my good Fortune—  To. 
Say rather displeased at my own bad— I have seen you settled in the free possession of all your desires— 'tis time now to mind my own affairs— [Going] Adieu—  Tr. 
You won't leave us so?  To. 
Better leave you, than stay to spoil your Mirth— I am out of tune, and all with every thing else so.  Tr. 
Your Ladyship must use your Authority here, or we shall lose Mr. Townley, he ●unning in quest of he does not know whom.  L. G. 
He can't be such a Madman?  To. 
I must go— My Quiet, my Life, my All depends upon finding her, which ●ill do, if diligence can do it.  L. G. 
Are you sure she is worth finding— she is ten to one some Town Jilt or ●●dy Errand that has been long in pursuit of a Husband, and has at last singled you out.  ●●ich. 
A needy Beauty perhaps, who for want of Fortune is fain to lie upon the ●●●ch— You shan't fling yourself away.  Tr. 
Think no more of her— The Sister you have so often heard me speak of ●●●n Town— if a good Face and 5000 l. will please you, she is yours— speak, ●● it a Match?  To. 
I would not have you misconstrue my refusal, for Pride or Stupidity— but I 〈◊〉 resolved to have her— and none but her— who if she were here,  Enter Sab. and claps him on the Back. Sab. 
As she is here,  To. 
Should be mine instantly— you would retreat— No Faith, Madam, you 〈◊〉 stand to it now— Here are two or three Couples going to the same sport— 〈◊〉 won't spoil a Humour—  ●ab. 
Not I— tho' you were so hard-hearted, as to give me a flat denial in the Park ●●●terday— D'ye remember Sylvia?  Tr. 
So, Jack, we must be Brothers in spite of Fate— A Sister of my giving won't ●●●se you, you must pick for yourself—  To. 
To this face, wherever I find it, I swear Allegiance. Come, Sir, you are slow, 〈◊〉 the way to Church.  Enter No-wit running, his Crevat torn, and Periwig ruffled. No. 
Oh! save me, save me!  Squ. 
From what?  No. 
That Legion of Devils, my Wife.  Squ. 
What's the matter?  No. 
My Shoulders, my Shoulders! She has been using the rod of Authority, 〈◊〉 bestowed plentiful Castigation upon 'em, the first day of our Marriage.  Squ. 
How did you provoke her to it?  No. 
Not at all, as I hope to be saved— I provoke her— No such ma●ter truly— I am not suffered nigh enough— By the pleasures of generation, I 〈…〉 much as k●st her since we were Married.  Squ. 
There's her quarrel to you— stick close to her, she will soon be in a ●etter humour.  No. 
I can't abide to stick close to her, so I can't— she does so hug an● 〈…〉 Monkey, that it would make any Christian ashamed of her; she nothing but 〈…〉 him, and all forsooth because he is like a Man— sure I may be thought as like one as he—  Squ. 
With a great deal of Justice— Phoo! you should never mind those 〈◊〉 Women will have their Playfellows—  No. 
What Monkeys 〈◊〉 Foh.  Squ. 
Monkeys or Bea●s— there is not a Pin to choose between 〈…〉 come I'll see you reconciled, I'll mediate for you.  No. 
No need for that— I can go to finer Women, those that won't use 〈…〉 One of 'em clap't my cheeks t'other day, and said I had a good Country 〈…〉 betrayed my quality— hang me if she did not protest any body might read 〈…〉 my Face.  Squ. 
A common Strumpet— a mercenary Jade of the Town.  No. 
Mercenary— O Law— and I'll swear then she proffered me 〈…〉 for half a Crown— She was some Gentlewoman without doubt, she had 〈…〉 Velvet-hood and Scarf on.  Squ. 
Little does he think that they are as true signs of a willing Tit as a 〈…〉 Well, well, forget her, I'll satisfy your Wife.  No. 
Will you indeed now— but will you satisfy her— You were 〈…〉 Friend, that's the truth on't— but to undertake such a task as satisfying a Wom●● is mighty kind— Dear Rogue come along— but be sure you 〈…〉 enough.  Exeunt No-wit and Squeezum. L. G. 
Has not this cooled you a little?— are not you afraid of facing 〈…〉 Neighbours?  To. 
Not a jot; for though  

The choice which interest makes soon tedious grows,  
And hasty Passions do themselves destroy;  
Yet when Desert, that kindled, feeds the Flame,  
Love is for ever fresh, and still the same.   
FINIS.