THE Female Gallant OR, THE wife'S THE CUCKOLD. A NOVEL.  
LONDON, Printed for Samuel Briscoe, over-against Will's Coffeehouse, in Russel-Street, in Covent-Garden, 1692.   

TO My much Esteemed FRIEND, Mr. Cardell Goodman.  
SIR,  
I Would fain say something new to you in this Dedication; but our Great Masters in Wit, have already so far outdone me, that I must despair of Entertaining you as I would. To say I do not pretend to make you any acknowledgements here, of the Favours I have already received; because it looks as if I designed to pay a Debt, by borrowing a much greater Sum of the same Person; is Old, tho' 'tis True. And for me to attempt here to give the World a Character of You, would extremely lessen you; and you would appear like a Great Beauty drawn by a House-dawber: And that part of Mankind, which has the happiness to be truly acquainted with you, would throw stones at me for my Ignorance, and Presumption. Some of that happy number who have needed it, have sufficiently known your Generosity, nor have I wanted my share of that Knowledge.  
Your Sense and Judgement have been too Evident to be questioned by any Man that pretends to either: And they are such as I ought to dread upon this Occasion. You have adorned the Best, and Highest Characters, and have sometimes helped Heaven to make a Poet.  
I shall say nothing in defence of the Discourse I'm going to make you; because it wants more than I can pretend to offer for it. Only thus much, that it was really designed to please YOU, and all that read it; as well as to oblige the Bookseller, and myself.  
In short, I fear Sir, you'll find your Entertainment but Rude, and Homely; But I hope, not Ill-natured, nor Uncivil. You have your Bill of Fare in the Title Page, and if I have dressed any one Dish to your Palate, I wish you may make a Hearty, but not a Nauseous meal of it; and then I'm sure I shall be the most satisfied. You are my Chief Guest, Sir, and for your sake, Mr. Briscoe and I are in hopes, that we shall have the Greater and Better Company. Who, if they bring as much Candour, as I beg you now to be guilty of; with you, will pardon, Sir,  
Your Obliged, and Humble Servant, Alexander Oldis.   

THE London jilt: OR, THE Female Cuckold.  
SIR Beetlehead Gripely lived in a great, ugly, old-fashioned House, somewhere in the City; in a Place almost as Obscure as That of his Birth, and as dark as his Deeds; and was a Money Scrivener, which (as I am told) is a devilish good Occupation. In this he got, within the Space of Seven Years, an Estate of near 12000 l. and purchased him a Wife of his own Household, worth twice as much for her incomparable Qualities, had she been exposed to Sale at a more convenient Market. Her Unmarried Names (I won't say her Maiden Names, though she was his Chambermaid) were Winny Wagtail, of the Great and Notorious Family of the Wagtails in Castle-street, near Long Acre, not far from the Square, where, at present, I have an Apartment: But, upon her Marriage to Sir Beetlehead, she was Dignifyed and Distinguished by the Name and Quality of The Lady Gripely; by whom the Knight had Issue only Philandra; a Lady of most Prodigious and Various Qualifications.  
When she was about Eight Years old she went twice a Week, besides Sundays, to hear either the Painful Mr. B ..... Mr. D ...... or Mr. F ..... where she would Sigh and Weep as hearty, as if she were already in Love and Despair; and would sing Psalms till she was even Black in the Face again for want of Breath.— (Is not that better than to say she sung like a Nightingale? for I never heard a Nightingale sing Psalms.) These Acquisitions (doubtless) she had from her Observation of the Pious Lady her Mother, who (possibly) had been one of the Sweet Singers of Israel. At least, we cannot doubt that she was always one of the Family of Love. At Twelve Years of Age, the Beautiful and Zealous Philandra could tell who was the Fairest, who the Strongest, and who the Wisest Man, which I hope she has not yet forgot; since they were all for her Turn, especially the last; for he had most Love, most Money, and most Honour. At Thirteen she could say all Perkin's Catechism by Rote, both Questions and Answers; and could give as good an Account of all the Sermons she heard, as any of those that preached 'em. Besides, she had a most Rapacious Apprehension, and Tenacious Memory of all the newest Jests and Songs about Town and Court; could quote you any part of the Academy of Compliments, as readily as her Teachers did the Scripture, and apply it more properly, and with less Abuse. At Fourteen she was sent to the Boarding-School at Hackney, not without the Tutelage of an Old Aunt by her Father's side, who died in less than a Twelve Month's Time of a Surfeit of those Vanities she daily saw there. After which, the Niece improved to a Miracle in all the Arts of Gallantry: Though, to give her her due, she was at First a very good Proficient in either of 'em; but now, all on a sudden, she became most perfect in all, in each, and singular of 'em. When she sung, the Angels would stand listening to her with their Fingers in their Mouths: What then d'ye think poor Men would do? Why (Faith) nothing but hold their peace, that they might the better hear her; and silently wish, that they had the spoiling of so good a Voice. When she Danced, the Sparks have sworn that she was Begotten by Mercury: And I am apt to believe it; for, Men say her Father was a Thief by his Vocation,— But their Reason was, because she moved, as if she had Wings at her Feet. When she Writ a Billette doux, she did it with more Elegancy and Tenderness than Madam Scaron [or Maintenon.] When she Dictated to Madam Montespan, the Letters she writ to Lovis Le Grand. In short, she had an abundance of Grace in all her Words and Actions, but the Devil a bit in all her Thoughts. Yet this I am obliged to say for her, that, notwithstanding all these Egregious Acquisitions, and Extraordinary Embellishments, she was not Spiritually Proud, though the World may believe, by the Sequel, that she was Carnally Proud; witness the several Intrigues she had at the Chaste Boarding-School, before she came to Converse in this Lewd Town and Court: Not that she ever finished one, till about the Eighteenth Year of her Tyranny. As to her Person, she was really very Beautiful, being extremely like our late Famous Duchess now in France, as nearly resembling her as the Knight of Tunbridge, or myself, resemble the Figure of the late Incomparable Scaron; and she was as Cunning as t'other for the Heart of her.  
While she was under Education, among the rest, Sir Blunder Slouch was her daily Votary. A Spark every way accomplished to bear the Marks of his Wife's Kindness to another Man; of a most easy and credulous Nature to the fair Sex; a tall, heavy, cold, phlegmatic Booby; a great Coward, and very Rich; by Profession a Norwich Factor; a great Favourite of Sir Beetlehead's, so like him in his Intellects, Religion and Morals, that Gripely was resolved, since he was not his own lawfully begotten Son, he should be his Son by Marriage; which (doubtless) he had brought to Perfection, had the Old Man lived but a Quarter of a Year longer.  
Besides this Slouch you may be pleased to observe, that in the long and tedious Catalogue of her Adorers, there was found, as Ringleader of all those her well-affected Subjects and Slaves, the Lord Bellamant, a Beau of the First Rate, a young, beautiful Spark, of true Courage and Gallantry, and of near 5000 l. a Year Estate; of Wit and Humour enough to accomplish any thing he undertook. He and his Sister were Twins, wherefore (as I am told) they were born much about the same time. At most (as I am credibly informed by the Learned in such Cases) there could not be a Quarter of a Year's Difference in their Age: And they were so passing alike, that one of his Legs was not more like tother, than she was to him, though his Legs were both equally proportionable and handsome. Their Stature was equal, their Complexion the same, being exceeding Fair; the Tone of their Voices alike soft and charming; each had a Mole on the Right Cheek, but his was not so obvious to Sight, because of his Peruke, and therefore rarely taken notice of. Their Thoughts and Passions proceeded as from one Soul; only Nature and different Education, according to their Sexes, had given Arabella (for that was her Name if you'll believe me; or, if you done't, I can't tell how you'll be better satisfied) a greater share of Modesty and strictness of Virtue than her Brother.  
On this Extraordinary Man Philandra thought she had bestowed her deceitful Heart: Nay and, I dare say, at sometimes she did most passionately and entirely love him. Letters past daily between 'em, while she was under her yet innocent Exercises. But— as the Devil would have't, (who owed her a spite, though I can't tell for what; for, I'll be sworn, she never disobliged him wittingly in all her Life) one Day, as she was Dancing, she dropped a Letter which she had written in Answer to one of the Lord Bellamant's; and who should take it up but that damned, eternal Coxcomb, Sir Blunder, who was most plaguily Assiduous in his Visits to her, especially on Dancing Days. The Booby (it seems) could Read; and finding it Inscrbed To the Lord Bellamant, whom he had seen there Twice or Thrice, began to be troubled with a swelling at his Nose, having some reasonable Jealousy, that Bellamant dressed and talked somewhat finer than he; though he could not allow him to be half so proper a Fellow— The witty Dog concealing his Resentments, clapped the Letter into his Pocket, as rightly imagining she would never look for it there: Nor truly did she miss it, till he had the Opportunity of Reading it as he was going for London in his Hackney Coach; when, releasing it from the fulsome Company of his Bills and Bonds, he found under Hand and Seal these Words following:  
MY LORD,  
IF your Lordship could assure me, that what you have said and written to me, were not a piece of Gallantry natural to you, and in Course to all young Creatures of our easy Sex, I should certainly have Reason to think myself the happiest Creature breathing in your Lordship's Esteem; however, be your Address real or feigned, it appears so Advantageously for you, that I cannot choose but wish, that you did sincerely Love  
PHILANDRA.  
ud's Five and Nine! (cried Slouch aloud) here's fine work! Are you taken with your fine Show! A poor, young Fellow, hardly Nineteen, with ne'er a hair upon his Chin; and because (forsooth) he can Dance! Soft and Fair! This Pace will never carry it.— Yet how shall I prevent it?— Oh!— I think I've found it out.— He's a Rank Papish, and Sir Beetlehead hates a Papish as bad as I do; which I do as utterly as Plaindealing and Poverty. But if she Loves him, what then?— Why let 'em Marry in the Devil's Name, so I can but get her Father to disinherit her; (which I should not despair of in the least were it not for her Mother; who is as Wanton, and altogether Vain, as she. In this perplexity he got at last to Gripely's old Enchanted Castle, where a great many Widows and Orphans lay Bound in velum and Paper so fast, that 'tis not expected they should e'er get lose till Doomsday, when, 'tis thought, they may Hamper Him: But the old Fellow thinks 'tis a great while hence, and means to make all the present use of his Money that he can. Just at the Hall Door the Two Villains encountered; Slouch accosted the old One with a Face full of Concern, contrary to what he was wont coming from Philandra, insomuch that Sir Beetlehead himself took notice of it: What's the Matter Sir Blunder? (said he) How does my Daughter? Not so well as she should, (replied t'other) or as you would have her, I fear. How! how! (cried the Father) what mean you, Sir Blunder? Explain yourself, (pray) for I am in the Dark. (Which, no doubt, he was in any part of that cursed Fabric, without the help of Artificial Lights.) This Paper your Daughter dropped (said Sir Blunder) and I took it up unknown to her; out of which if you can pick any thing to your Satisfaction, I pray do. Sir. The old Man, taking the Letter, was forced to go into the Back-Parlour, that looked into a Neighbour's Garden; where, by the help of Four Eyes, he made a shift to read it aloud in his Lady's hearing. At the end of it he raved out, ud's precious, my Lady! These are wicked Times indeed, when our Children are plotting the Ruin of their Parents, and contriving the Infirmity of their Families. The Infamy, you mean, (interrupted she.) But where's the hurt of this? For I understand the Business. What if the Lord Bellamant have a Passion for her, and she for him? Where's the danger of it? He is a Person of Honour, he has a good Estate, and is a rising Man at Court. For my part, I could wish 'twere a Match. How, Madam, (cried Slouch rudely) Why he's a Papish! Ay, he's a Papish, my Lady! (echoed the old dry Trunk) What of that? (said the young Lady of about Forty) Is not King James our Sovereign a Papist? No, no, my Lady (replied Threescore and Twelve) he is a Roman Catholic. That's the same Thing (said she.) You'll pardon me, my Lady (returned Gripely) for every Subject who is that way given, though he were a Duke, is a Papish; and the King and Queen only are Roman Catholics. Well but (interrupted she) what danger do you apprehend from your Daughter's Marrying to this Papist-Lord? What danger? (cried the old Knight, straining his Voice; which threw him into a violent Fit of Coughing, that forced out one of his Nine Teeth.) ud's precious, my Lady! why; Fire, and Faggot, and Gunpowder, and Squibs, and Crackers, and Serpents, and Devils, and Papists, would continually be Buzzing and Sputtering about our Ears; and not a Corner of our House would be free from a Dark Lantern. No, no, I'll ha' no Papish Son-in-Law I can assure you, my Lady. Therefore Reins our Butler, Porter, Groom and Coachman shall make ready the Coach, and I'll fetch her Home to Night before to Morrow. Indeed, Madam (said Slouch) 'tis the only way to prevent the Ruin both of her Soul and Body. Why of her Body? (asked the Lady-Mother) good Sir Blunder! mayn't a Papish Lord Do as well as a Presbyterian Knight? But— no matter— if my Lovy Sir Beetlehead is resolve t have her home, I hope I may bear him Company to fetch her. With all his own poor Heart, (replied Gripely, chucking her under the Chin.) Thou art my dear Bird, and my most Kind and Dutiful Lady-Wife. Sir Blunder (said the Lady) I suppose you may spare yourself the Trouble of a second Visit to my Daughter this Day. She will have time enough to thank you for your Care at her Return. Slouch was not altogether such a Booby, but he perceived it was a kind of Reprimand by the manner of her Address to him: Wherefore he only made a silent slovenly bow. And they proceeded in their short, but tedious Journey. You may believe 'twas tedious to the Lady-Mother, because Reins was obliged to drive very slowly and gently, for fear of breaking, or at least disjointing, his Aged Master's Bones.  
No sooner had Sir Blunder had his Audience of Congé at the Boarding-School, than Philandra was accosted with the most profound Respects of a strange Gentleman, who fell passionately in Love with her there that very Afternoon; who, though he was not Dignified with any Title of Honour, or Quality, above that of a Gentleman, yet was eminently distinguished from most of his Degree, by an Estate of near 6000 l. a Year; and add to this the Advantages of his Person, Mind, and Education; which were all very extraordinary; and you will conclude he must certainly succeed in any Amorous Attempt. You must be acquainted with him by the Name of Worthygrace; which Name his Family had born time out of mind.— (Faith) I cannot particularly tell you how long, but you may assure yourself 'twas ever since they were so called. He had inquired (it seems) of her Birth and Fortune: The last of which (possibly) he liked as well almost as her Person. Their Circumstances was most agreeable in every point, but one; and that was in Age: For he was near Thirty, and she not Seventeen. Madam (said he, approaching her with Mr. Stepwell her Dancing-Master, who had the Honour of his Acquaintance) I come to make my most humble Acknowledment to you, of the greatest Obligation that you could possibly place on a Person, which is yet so perfectly miserable as to be altogether unknown to you. Sir, (replied the Fair False One) your Discourse is absolutely as strange to me, as your Person; yet, tho' they are both surprising, I will not call 'em troublesome; nor shall I be yet Curious to know what the Obligation is you talk of: Yes, Madam, (Interrupted he) it is but necessary you should be sensible, that you are the sole occasion of my making the best use of all my Travels; since, for your sake alone, I return most passionately in Love with my own Country. I see, Sir, (returned Philandra) you take the liberty of a Traveller; and I hope, I shall not hazard my Salvation in not believing you. If you would make more use of your Reason, Madam, (rejoined he) and less of your Modesty, I am confident you would be of my Faith: However, if you will not, I shall endeavour by all the most constant and Religious Respects of your most Faithful Adorers, to let you see, that I must Die in this Truth, without a possibility of being convinced in my Persuasion of it. I am sorry, Sir, (replied she) that you are so obstinately resolved to Die in a Heresy, tho' it should be really at present, your unhappy Opinion. A great deal more of such stuff passed between 'em; but I hope, I am not obliged to remember it all: At the end of which, or (unhappily) before, the Old Grey Puss, or Governess of the House, called her aside; for she watched her as narrowly, as a Cat does a Mouse. At this unexpected interruption, our good Friend Worthygrace had like to have lost himself and all Patience, and was about to have made some Outlandish Prayers for her; that sound as loud as our English Curses, and might have signified as well no doubt, but he paid her with thinking. Yet, to speak truly of him, he was not so revengeful as Amorous: So that, he thought it more necessary to apply himself to Stepwell for a second interview, than to an Apothecary for Arsenic for the Old Cat.  
He had not been a Traveller for above Ten years together, without having Learned what was the best Speech, wherefore he Addressed to the Maître de Dance, in the most Elegant Dialect of an Hundred Guineas, which did his Business to some Tune, as far as it lay in Monsieur Coupé's Talon. Let us leave 'em then, hatching their Egg for this young Cockatrice; who was now retired into her Chamber, where she began to search for her Letter to the Lord Bellamant, in order (perhaps) to Examine and Correct it.— But (Ah, unparrallelled Misfortune!) she might as soon have found the Epistle to the Romans in her Bosom; which I dare say, never came nearer her Dainty, White, Smooth, Downy, (what shall I say!) Skin, than her Pocket or Glove, unless it were at her finger's ends.— She caused her Attendant to undo her Gown, unlace her Stays, and she herself peeping down her Shift, exposed such Beauties to the God of Day, as had he then been as young as when he pursued Daphne, he had certainly left her for the Fairer Prize Philandra; nor (I fancy) would she have been half so skittish.— What d'ye call this now? A Flight?— 'Tis a fine thing to have Read!— A Flight let it be then, because one ran away.— But all this Beauty and all these Charms, could not charm back her Letter to her. No, I can't tell, whether Gadbury, Partridge, or Coley, could have Conjured it from Old Gripely; for he was surely a greater Devil than any they deal with; supposing, they piss in a Quill with Satan himself: And now were the Stars called to account for their inadvertency, in a matter so nearly concerning her; but whether they heard or not, I will not positively say; tho' it is my opinion, that her Sister Venus sent it to her again, by the hand of Saturn; yet contrary to my expectation or desire; for just as he was in the height of Despair and Rage, Enters Old Gripely, and her own Dear Lady Mother: Daughter (cried the Old Testy Knight) (I can't say Gentleman) look you, here's a Letter for you, 'tis worth your notice, but you must stay to Read it till you come home.— In the mean time (pursued he, turning to her Servant) Maiden, pack up your young Lady's Trumpery and your own; that we may take 'em along with us in the Coach. Upon sight of the Superscription, Philandra soon guessed how it dropped from her Bosom into her Father's hands. O base, Unbred, boobily Fellow, (cried she to herself aside) to betray this unfortunate Paper to more unlucky hands. Nay, rather (Interrupted her Mother who overheard her, and spoke softly) most unmindful and regardless Creature, so to Dispose of what might for ever Oblige or Ruin thee: But no more, restrain your Passion: I'll see to compose all this to your Satisfaction. Come (cried Old Gripely) we'll take a fair leave of your Mistress, and you may bid farewell to your Schoolfellows; by that time Mariana will have got all things ready. Just at these words, in came the Old Beldame, with her shaking Head, and her Heart trembling, for the loss of so good a Scholar; which she learned from Reins, was to be the ungrateful Consequence of this unseasonable Visit; and while the Parents were making their Apology, for so unexpectedly taking home their Daughter; Philandra made sh●ft unperceived, to convey a little Cabinet Crammed with Epistles of her Lovers, to a young Lady sometimes her Bedfellow and Confident, whom she instructed, how and when to dispose of it; returning time enough to receive her governess's Sage Advice and Prayers; to whom she returned thanks in Gales of Sighs, and Floods of Tears; to think, she must now lose those dear opportunities of Hearing and Relating with several of those pretty young Creatures her Schoolfellows, how often, how near, each of 'em were only like to have been undone, through some malicious disappointment of their Cruel Stars, which had more care of their Happiness than they themselves; besides a thousand other such advantages, which now she feared she must forego.  
But to be short,— home they got about Nine at Night; where her Father gave her a round rally, which she took so much to Heart, as she went to Bed, and resolved not to see the Sun, as long— as— she stayed within doors. (which Resolution she could not avoid keeping, unless she got to the top of the House in a fair day; and than you'll say (perhaps) she was not within doors.) But she really kept her Bed for three or four days, and affected a deep Melancholy, which was at length attended by an ugly Distemper, called the Itch of Gadding Abroad. In the Cure of this, her Pious Lady Mother was very instrumental; for after having caused her to be let Blood, (which then was not very unseasonable, the Summer being very moderate) and after one Dose of Pills, with some Good, Costly, and Comfortable Cordials, she easily prevailed with Mr. Physmacary, (who was both Doctor and Apothecary in Ordinary to that Blessed Family) to agree agree with her, that it was most expedient her Daughter should take a little fresh Air. This was easily accorded to by Old Gripely, for he knew that ten miles of the best Air, would not cost him half so much, as two Ounces of the worst Cordial; and the next day was prefixed for it.  
During the Malignancy of her Distemper, which reigned chief in her Head, (where it does in most People of her Youth, Humour and Circumstances) the Lord Bellamant had been to pay his Devoirs to her at the Boarding School: There he heard of her sudden removal; which tho' at first, it startled him, yet on second thoughts he proposed greater advantages to himself by it. And his last Design was to get his Twin-Sister Arabella, to Accompany Aurelia, Philandra's sometimes Bedfellow and Confident, in a Visit to her; which she received the Afternoon. She was once again, at least, to be blest with the sight of the Gay World, and the Scent of the Court Air, intending for St. James' Park. You may imagine, she was not a little pleased at the sight of her Dear Confident, and of the Lady Arabella; which last brought the Beauties of the Lord her Brother so fresh in her Memory, that Philandra had like to have fallen into a fit of Sickness indeed: To think it was not that Substantia▪ Figure she would have seen at her Bedside, or rather have Embraced in her Bed. After the two young Ladies had condoled with the Lady Gripley, who was still present, the cruel Malady of her Daughter; the indulgent Mother, knowing by her own past Circumstances, that the presence of a Parent might cause some restraint in their Freedom of Discourse, very Modestly and Kindly withdrew; Philander's Attendants waiting on her to the door, she not permitting her Daughter the trouble of that Ceremony: By which means Arabella had the opportunity of presenting Philandra with a Letter, which her Brother had trusted to her discreet mannagement, to deliver to Philandra's own fair hands; which, tho' at all times they were exceeding fair, yet, now, by this white,— as— (Ah! would my Shirt, ay, or my Crevat, were as white!) the falling Snow, for she had used a peculiar Ointment, and lay in Dog-skin-Gloves, with her Arms extended over her Head all this while, unless when any Visitors came.— (I believe, I can procure you a Receipt of the Ointments to oblige you, Ladies; for I know Mr. Physmacary very well) But now she pulled off one of her Gloves to receive the Billett doux; which yet she could not Read, because of the sudden return of her Attendant: Wherefore she concealed it in her Bed, till a more convenient time. However she sent as proper an answer to it, as if she had perused it a hundred times over: Telling the Ladies, that she was advised to breathe a little fresh Air; and, that on the Morrow her Lady Mother and she designed for St. James' Park; where she should be happy to meet such excellent Company as their Ladyships about four in the Afternoon. The Lady Arabella soon took the hint; and promised she would endeavour to divert her by the best means in her Capacity: (Which, she knew, was by bringing her Brother,) And immediately upon this, she and Aurelia Kissed her fair Cheek; and so Commending her to Heaven's Care, quitted the Room; why Fair Cheek now you'll say (perhaps!) Why: let it be soft, Rosy, or Fair, I care not which, 'tis not a pin matter, but one of 'em it must be, in my Opinion.— No sooner was Mariana, her Attendant, gone to wait on the Ladies down Stairs, but Philandra Ravished the Letter from between the Sheets; and, after having thrice Kissed it, she saw on the outside these words, To the Charming Philandra: In the inside she found he expressed himself thus,  
YOU cannot think (Madam) nor I express what dreadful Apprehensions I had at first, of your hasty, and, I fear unvoluntary Retreat from Hackney; which had like to have terminated in an utter Despair of ever seeing you more. And had not Love inspired me, beyond my own Dull Capacity, to engage myself to deliver my Soul with this into your Dear Hands, I had certainly left all the Pleasures of this World, and, which is most valuable in it, yourself, for a Monastic Life Which tho' it may suit with Religion; (I fancy) will hardly ever agree with my Complexion. If then (Madam) you will preserve me from being Buried Alive; let me, I beseech you, know by her, where and when I may see and adore that Divinity which alone gives Life and Relish to all the joys of (Madam)  
Yours Eternally, BELLAMANT.  
After she had again Kissed it thrice; she fastened it, by an Engine very much in use among Ladies, to the Veil of Love's Temple; In plain English, to her shift: Thinking she had now secured that from all possibility of an escape from her: And, that she had it as fast, as she held the Heart of him that sent it. Soon after she had thus placed the Copy of my Lord's Heart on her left side, next her own; her Lady-Mother ushered in Sir Blunder, who of all Men, except her Father, had the privilege to visit her in her Bedchamber; and whom, except her Father, she hated above all Men. (For to say truth, Slouch was not so Old, by near forty years) At the sight of him she began to look as Pale as the Moon; when, just before, she was as Ruddy and Glorious as the Sun. Madam Philandra (said he) I come to condole the tedious Fit of Sickness you have had: And (truly) had it not been for troubling you; I would have visited you oftener and sooner. 'Tis now too soon, (returned she) unless you design to complete by your presence, what you had but begun by your Curiosity: I mean, my Death. I complete your Death (interrupted he) I profess, I never thought of such a thing, days of my Breath. No matter (returned she, mocking him) I profess, there is never another Letter for you.— (How if she should mistake now?) why, Madam Philandra (replied he) I thought no more harm when I gave Sir Beetlehead your Letter; than an Apple's like an Oyster. At this Simile she could hardly forbear laughing aloud: while he went on much to the same tune. In good truth, I delivered it to him because you were not at home; that he might send it to you again, or to my Lord Bellamant: For, upon my Truly now, Madam Philandra, I am as ready to serve you, as an Arrow out of a Bow. And whom could I better entrust with your Secrets than your own dear Father? One would think you were in the right on't, in trusting my own Dear Father with a jesting piece of Gallantry of mine that I would not have had him see: But I must needs own, 'twas an excellent contrivance, and much like your own Dear Worshipful self, to carry my Letter from me, that it might be sent to me. Say, was not this for Expeditions sake? In good Faith (answered the Booby) I thought to have given it you again, assoon as I had read it; but forgot it.— In good Faith I did.— (Now Pox upon him, for an unhappy silly Dog. For he makes my Heart ache. Since just so used the Reverend Old Gentleman at Westminster to say to me:— In good Faith (Child) I must whip thee.) But with a scornful smile (she returned) in good Faith Sir, I thank you, that after you had exposed to all the Sense you had, what I would have concealed to you and almost all Mankind beside; you would have vouchsafed to have returned it me, had you not forgotten it. O, Admirable piece of Civility and Breeding! So Generous an Act, sure was never committed by any Villain that takes your Purse, sure! What! My Lady (said he) does Madam Philandra call me Villain!— I am afraid, she is not in her right Maidenly Wits. Indeed I fear so too (replied the Mother) she has been delirious all along since she kept her Bed: These kind of Distempers make 'em all so. Wherefore I would advise and entreat you to leave me alone with her: Happily, I may help her to compose her strangling thoughts. Your Servant, my Lady: Good-night, sweet Madam Philandra (said he) and made a Leg, going out. So;— Heaven be praised! my worst Distempers gone: (cried the young Lady) not Poverty with all it's worst Attendants is half so bad, as to be yoked to thee.  
Can you, my Honoured Mother, suffer it?  
When e'er you see me Bedded with this Slave.  
Say, He's my Monument, the Bed my Grave.  
Here our Sapph let lose whole floods of Briny-Salt tears, as Round and Clear as so many Pearls: But (Pardon me, Ladies!) not altogether so Precious, in my poor judgement. At the sight of this inundation, which were enough to set any Young Man's Heart a Fire, (and that's strange you'll say) the Lady-Mother dropped an April-shower; which was not of long Continuance: And, after they both had wept, they both smiled: The Pious indulgent Mother assuring the Angellike Daughter, (I mean, for Beauty) that she would never suffer it; nor could ever live to see it. Philandra proceeded then to make an ingenuous Confession of the Passion she had for the Lord Bellamant; begging her pardon, that she had hitherto kept her a stranger to it. Who told her, in that only she was to blame, for (said she) I like his Person and Estate very well. But above all his Title: For, if you Mary Him; you'll be a better Woman than my Lady May'ress: And you shall take place of her any where on English Ground; unless in the City, I fear.— The Bellamants (continued she) are as Ancient and Great a Family as any in the four Kingdoms; when I was about your Age, I was Intimately acquainted with above a score of 'em: And, I remember, they were all fine Gentlemen: Some, very Proper, Handsome, Lusty Men: Others, Midlesized and Brisk Men: Some again little Pretty Sprightly Creatures: All of 'em, Brave Generous, Active, and High-mettlled Men.— Ay; ay (added she) I am clearly for a Bellamant, and I warrant thee (my Dear) we'll carry the day: Therefore satisfy thyself, and take a hearty repose: This Kiss and a good Night to thee: A thousand good-nights to my Dear and Honoured Mother, (said Philandra, as her Mother left her.) All this while that Treacherous Jade Mariana had overheard their Discourse; which she was to repeat to Slouch, having been retained by him with five Guinea's and several Night's Lodgings; which, at long run, cost him a heavier Summ. A little time after her Mother was gone, Philandra fell asleep Hand over Head; never Dreaming that her Attendant had such true Ears, and so false a Heart: But 'twas no wonder; for, Sir Blunder had had the managment of her for above a Month before he preferred her to Philandra; whom she had not served longer than four Months.  
About twelve a Clock the next day the Lady Gripely thought it convenient her Daughter should rise: Allowing two hours for Dressing, an hour for Dining, and about as much for their journey for the Park: So, Philandra called for fresh Linen, and up she got. Her thoughts were so wholly intent on the Adventure she was like to have that Afternoon, that she quite forgot the Letter which she had fastened to her Shift, and after Dinner took Coach without it. For, this Damned Maid Woman (Whore I was going to say) taking the Shift, to lay it aside; pricked her Finger with the Pin that held it there: Which when she had taken out, the Letter fell on the Ground before her. She immediately took it up, and gave it to Slouch, who came presently after he had Dined to Sir Beetlehead's, as was his Custom: And withal made him a repetition of what she had overheard in Discourse between the Mother and Daughter; soon afterwards she was called to wait on her Lady to the Park. There were only those four who went in that Coach; the Lady Gripely, Philandra and Mariana, (I warrant you think that I can't count four as I should do) but you may be pleased to take notice, that Mariana was with Child of a Slouch; and more than half gone. Well; to the Park they got, just as the Guards were relieved; and, in some few Minutes after, Sir Blunder arrived there, in his own Hackney Coach; (for he was too miserable to keep one: Tho' he was as Proud as any Beggarly upstart-Citizen in Christendom) when he was got through the Horse-Guards, (which (no doubt) he cursed in his Heart, because they were King James', and the Lord Dover's Troop too that were then upon Duty.) He took the Walk on the Left Hand by the Birdcage; which (as it happened) was the right way to meet the Ladies; who were gotten by this time about the middle of the Mall, just over against St. James' House, when they met the Lord Bellamant and the Lady his Sister, Attended only by her Women and two Footmen. After the first Salutation, Bellamant addressed himself to the Mother. Telling he that that Part of the World did bretter suit with Ladies of so Great Beauty and Gallantry than the Dull, Precise, and unmannerly City, which they only made happy and valuable by their Residence in it, more than its Wealth and Traffic in the World. To which the Lady Gripely replied, that it was therefore the most advantageous place for them to live in, since there, their want of Breeding and Humour was the less observable. I never thought, Madam (returned the Lord Bellamant) that I could have been so unhappy as not to subscribe to every particular Opinion of your Ladyship's, till this unlucky Moment: But, Madam (continued he, applying himself to Philandra) I am yet more unfortunately mistaken, if you don't think this Air more agreeable to the Sweetness of your Complexions, than the Smoky Climate of that, still unsatisfied, and unhallowed, tho' pretended, Sanctify'd Place. And I fear, Madam (added he) that your apprehensions of such a retreat from the Gay World, threw you into a Melancholy, which might have been no less fatal to me, and all the admiring World, than to your Ladyship; had not Heaven preserved the nearest Copy of itself in you, to be adored by all Mankind— My Lord (said Philandra) I did really Arm myself against all Modesty,  I came abroad, expecting, indeed, to receive such Volleys of your Wit and Gallantry.— She had gone on still; had not Stopwell, approaching 'em with Mr. Worthygrace, and his Equipage, prevented her.— My most Honoured Lady! (cried he out aloud) and my Divine Mistress Philandra! How happy am I to see your Ladyship so well recovered in your Health and Beauty, as to adorn this Walk with what it so long has wanted in your absence?— Madam (interrupted Worthygrace) Mr. Stopwell wrongs the Court-Ladies; some of which are really Great Beauties, who frequently do bless this Park. But, pardon me, Madam I beseech you, if I think you have done 'em the greater injury; in appearing h●●e so much to their disadvantage,— 'Sdeath!— what Spark's this? (cries Bellamant to himself; with a jealous frown and an angry blush) but strait recalling himself (said he to Worthygrace aloud) Sir, the Lady is out o'danger of being Flattered; and you may go on at the same rate, if you please. But (interrupted Philandra) you may assure yourself (my Lord) it will not altogether please me: And I could wish, the Gentleman would spare himself the trouble of a second thought. At this they both bowed very humbly, and were silent: And (than said the Lady Gripely taking up the Discourse) but, in the name of Wonder, (Mr. Stopwell) how came you to find us here? Madam (replied the Coupé. Merchant) heaving that my Divine Mistress was taken Sick upon her return to Town, I thought it my indispensible Duty to pay my Respects to her, in enquiring of her Health, if I might not have been permitted the Honour and Happiness of seeing her; and this Afternoon I had the good Fortune to learn from Sir Beetlehead, then at home, that your Ladyships were gone towards the Park; whereupon, as I was going to call a Coach, this worthy Gentleman, my Honoured Friend prevented me, by taking me into his own Coach; he designing for a Walk in this place. While they were thus discoursing Worthygrace happened to fix his Eye on the Lady Arabella; where (perhaps) he discovered as much Beauty and Goodness as ever was confined to one Person And (no doubt) he had thought so had he not been prepossessed with a Passion for Philandra; however, at the same time, he could not but be somewhat touched with Arabella; and was not a little surprised to see two Persons so exactly alike as the Lady Bellamant and Arabella. Mean while, on t'other side Bellamant taking Philandra's hand, and walking some few paces from the Company; asked her if she knew that Gentleman, she answered, that this was the second time she had ever seen him; giving him an account withal of what had passed between 'em at their first sight, the day before she came to Town. Indeed (Madam, said my Lord) he makes a very Graceful Figure, and speaks well;— Pray Heaven and you, Madam, it prove not to my disadvantage: No; not (my Lord, said Philandra) your Lordship does not conquer by halves.— I fear I have said too much (added she with a blush) but make the best and kindest use on't you can for both our Interests. Ah Madam (replied he, in a transport) you have almost taken away from me the power to thank you for this mighty Blessing, and to assure you, that I can have no Interest but what must Centre in yours.— But I don't like this same Dancing-Master; I fancy he helps to play the Game against me. No matter my Lord (said she) since I deal, you are safe.— But, come let us join Company; for the Lady your Sister is at a loss for us. Alas, my Memory! (cried Bellamant) I had forgot till now to tell you, (Madam) that she came with me hither particularly to Kiss your hands,  she goes to a Relation of ours who is a Lady Abbess in France; with whom she designs to stay near a Twelvemonth; beginning her journey about three days hence: By this time they were come up with the rest of the Company, when Philandra told Arabella, that she was sorry to hear she must all on a sudden lose the happiness of her Charming Conversation, which she had as well promised to herself, as wished to enjoy all the days of her life. Madam (replied Arabella) I have had so great a desire of seeing some part of France these many Years; that I could no longer defer giving myself that satisfaction: Especially, since my Lady Abbess is now so pressing in her Invitation: And, unless your Ladyship will lay your absolute Commands on me to the contrary; I must leave England within these few days: Ah Madam! (returned Philandra) I can pretend to no such influence in your Ladyship's Actions: Besides, if I might, with Reason, you may assure yourself, that, I would rather wholly disquiet myself, than give the least lest interruption to your Ladyship's pleasure. That were too great a Condescension in you, Madam, to me; (replied Arabella;) since you may be confident, that you have an Arbitrary and Dispensing power in every thing relating to my Brother. During this Discourse between 'em, Worthygrace was examining the difference of their Beauties; and found much more of Modesty and Sweetness in Arabella's Face, than Air and Gaiety, which did chief reside in Philandra's; who yet had a Languishing cast with her Eye at some times; when she designed an Absolute Conquest; which did not a little denote her cunning: And 'twas this had vanquished him more than the noise of her thirty thousand pounds Portion: For he was truly Generous, and loved for love's sake; and, that most passionately.— But now, removing his Eyes from their belov'd object, and turning 'em on t'other side; he found the Lord Bellamant surveying him from Head to Foot: Which made Worthygrace as nicely examine him. At last, after a short encounter of their Eyes:— Well, Sir (said my Lord) what have you observed about me to my Advantage? I fear, nothing at all, (continued he) but what makes wholly for yours. So much on the contrary; (replied he) that I assure your Lordship, I would not have you for a Rival of all Mankind: And I could wish, with your Lordship's Pardon, that you were not only like that Beautiful Lady (added he, bowing toward Arabella) in outward Figure alone, but even in her very Sex. I must avow to you, my Lord, 'twould give me a great deal of ease. Methinks, Sir (said Bellamant) you look on me already as one that is a Disturber of your joys. If I do, my Lord, (returned Worthygrace) you are too secure in your own Merits to fear any attempt from me. As they were thus entertaining one another, Sir Blunder passed 'em on one side of the Mall, close to the Walk that leads to St. James' House, observing them most narrowly; but unobserved of them. It seems, he was near enough to take notice that Bellamant led Philandra, and whispered very frequently with her: That Stepwell ushered the Lady Gripely; and Worthygrace, as yet a stranger to him, was fain to take up with the Finest Creature there: I mean, Arabella. What Bellamant and Philandra whispered seemed to Slouch at that distance, to be some Assignation, or some Damned Love-Intrigue, or other, not at all in favour of him. An hundred times did he wish that he had been in my Lord's Heart; or 〈◊〉 least, that he had had his Ears: he durst not venture to go near enough for either of 'em, for fear of a Reprimand from Bellamant, who by this time was acquainted with the whole story of his Villainy: At last, all on a sudden, clapping her hand on her left side, Philandra missed the Letter she received from my Lord the day before. This made her stand as fixed as the Statue at the end of the Canal: But in a more defenceless posture. For, she had already received a second blow from Fortune; and there was no guarding herself against what was passed. By her looks on Bellamant, she appeared strangely mortified at something; which all the Company took notice of, upon that sudden motion of here's with her hand. Art not well, my Dear? (cried the Lady Gripely, running hastily to her) yes, Madam (answered she) pretty well now; I humbly thank your Ladyship. 'Twas only a stitch that took me on the sudden; and as quickly has left me. Ha! (thought Slouch, all this while watching every particular motion of the whole Company; especially Bellamant's, and Philandra's) I can tell your Distemper better than Mr. Physmacary himself: For I have the occasion of it here in my Pocket, which I will so improve, that you shall either marry me, or die of the Pip, and so lead Apes in Hell. I'm now going to your Father, and consequently every step I make is towards her Bad. Saying so, he left the Park, and them to follow him, which they did in less than an hour after, fearing the Air might be too sharp for Philandra's longer stay there the first time; every one expressing their real grief for the apprehension they had of the return of her Distemper. At the end of the Mall they were obliged to part; Philandra and her Mother for the City, the Lady Arabella with her Attendant and one Footman returned to their Lodgings in Soho-Square; for my Lord would needs take a Bottle with Worthygrace at the Blue-Posts in the Hay-Market, where they did very pleasantly with Stepwell, drinking to Philandra's Health, and discoursing of their Travels; in which, Worthygrace had much the advantage, having stayed some time in most of the Prince's Courts in Europe. Bellamant having only made the Tour of France, and some short stay at Rome, and Venice. After which, he spent somewhat more than a Twelvemonth in the Court of France, and the Campaign. Having drank and talked their heads pretty empty of further thought, and eaten their bellies full, they took a very obliging farewell of each other, both extremely satisfied with one another's merit, but not a little dissatisfied that they found they were Rivals; however, they Conversed, and parted like Persons of Honour, expecting from Philandra the fatal determination of their happiness, or misery.  
In the mean time, as they were making homewards, Philandra, looking very earnestly on Mariana, asked her if she had not met with a Letter among the Linen which she had put off that day? To which she replied, That indeed she took up a Paper that lay on the ground, and because she could not read it, she gave it to Sir Blunder, who told her that 'twas only a new Song which her Ladyship had transcribed; and that therefore she took no farther notice of it, but left it with him. O thou Screcch-Owl, (cried Philandra, all in a flame) what do I hear? Oh! thou hast betrayed me to the greatest of misfortunes, exposing me to the base practices of that Eternal Booby Slouch. O most unfortunate accident (cried the Mother) another Letter fallen into his hands! Madam, (said Mariana, about to justify herself.) Be dumb, be dumb for ever here on Earth, (interrupted Philandra) or if thou needs must yell, howl out inevitable Damnation to Despairing Souls! Oh! It were Charity to what thoust done! what! Sacrificed a second time to that Slave's Interest? 'Twere merciless I'm sure, in Humanity, to act thus, but Heaven I hope has kinder ends in it. Ah! Madam, (pursued she) how shall we meet my jealous Father, who is biased in every thing by that hated Fiend. No doubt (returned the Mother) the Greeting will be very extraordinary: Fools that we were (pursued she) not to perceive till now, that this sly Minks is a mere tool of his! his Creature; foisted upon us, to serve his hated ends. All this while the plaguy Gypsy sat sobbing and blubbering, and staining with her Crocodile tears her Handkerchief, which before was as white as innocence: At last, with much difficulty she sputtered out, Madam, if your Ladyship thinks that I have designedly injured you in this, I humbly beg your Ladyship to dismiss me your Service, for I had rather be robbed of that Happiness and Honour, than live under your Ladyship's Displeasure, and Suspicion. Ah! would to Heaven (cried Philandra) you had proposed this some weeks ago, it might perhaps for ever have established my Peace and Quiet, which now I fear is utterly ruined. However (continued she) your Request, tho' much with the latest, is very grateful to me, and you may be confident you shall not be long without your wish, if my honoured Mother has no further Commands for you Little did she think that this dismission would be as welcome to Mariana, as it was obliging to her: But I can assure you, it had been of equal advantage to all three, had it not been for a slippery Trick that Fortune played this unlucky Damsel.— No, no, (returned the Lady Gripely) my last Command to her is, that she continue in the Resolution of leaving us, and that by to morrow this time. At these words they found themselves just at their own door, which the Mother and Daughter entered, but with aching hearts, fore-boding but a sorrowful reception, which was reserved (it seems by the two ill-natured Blockheads agreement) to a more convenient time. For Slouch immediately upon his leaving the Park, came and found Gripeley at home, and took him to the Coffeehouse, where he recounted to him all the Discourse between the Mother and Daughter, as he had learned it from Mariana; showing Bellamant's Letter to Philandra; and withal, gave him an account of the Honourable Company he had seen with them in the Mall. He chose rather to take him to a Coffeehouse, there to distract him with this Relation, than his own House, fearing the Ladies might return, and surprise him as he was doing 'em that signal piece of Knight's Service. The Ladies had just time to quit themselves of that part of their Dress which was unnecessary in the House, when Old Gripely and Slouch came to 'em; the last of which (as it was contrived between 'em, over a Cup of the Devil's Communion-Wine) after having paid his Respects to the Ladies, came up closer to Philandra, and taking the Letter out of his Pocket, conveyed it into her hand, as it were unperceived of the Old Gentleman; who began to welcome home his Lady Wife with all the Sugar-plum-words he used to feed her with at his first Courtship. This was surprising, and kind; and, I am apt to believe, it was one of their last Honey-nights': but for a fortnight after Philandra was under a severer restraint than ever; During all which time, she could not receive one Billetdoux from either my Lord, or Worthygrace, tho' they both had endeavoured to supply her a hundred times, and a hundred ways, with those Paper-Refections; especially the Lord Bellamant: Who meeting Stepwell one Day about Noon, desired him to ●ake one Bottle with him at the Rose in Covent-Garden: So to Long's they came, where, after a Glass or two, Bellamant enquired of Worthygrace's health, and drank to the continuance of it. Then he proceeded to ask Stepwell when he had been at Mr. Beetlehead, and how Matters went with Philandra, since they last saw her in the Park? Of which Stepwell could give him no further account, than that he understood she was now more strictly confined than ever. My Lord then taking him by the hand, presented him with Fifty Guineas, and told him withal, that he must thence forward beg his Friendship; at the same time assuring him of his, and that he would use his interest at Court, or any where else, to serve him at any time. To which he very obediently replied, That his Life, and all his Circumstances, both Present, and Future, were, and should be always at his Lordship's Devotion, except his Reputation, which he was confident my Lord would never engage him to hazard. Mr. Stepwell (said the Lord Bellamant) had I thought that you had not had a true value for that, I should not have asked your Friendship; and to show you that the favour I would entreat of you is Just, and Honourable; I only desire you to endeavour to deliver this Letter to the hands of the Charming Philandra. My Lord (returned he) that I will endeavour it, I do engage my Reputation to your Lordship, and that within these two hours, for I am just going to Sir Beetleheads, to propose a Business that will be of no little advantage to him; but, that I shall succeed to your Lordships, and my own Wishes, I dare not promise. Your Endeavours are all I ask, Sir, (replied Bellamant) only this further I could wish, That you would let me know by to morrow this time what success you have had. Your Lordship shall find me most punctually and sacredly Obedient in what you have Commanded me, (said Stepwell.) I cannot doubt it, Sir, (returned my Lord) tho' I am sensible that Honourable Friend of yours, has justly a greater interest in you than myself: However, at the same time, I am assured you will oblige me in this, if he has not already engaged you to the contrary. Be confident, my Lord, he has not (replied t'other) only I beseech your Lordship to let me know, if I may entrust this Paper to any Person, who I am certain may and will present it to my Divine Mistress herself? By all means, use your own discretion in that (answered my Lord) for I wholly rely on your mannagement in this matter. Thus, after having again consecrated their Glasses with the Fair and Divine Lady's Health, and Stepwell being well satisfied with the Fifty Guineas, as Bellamant was of his Integrity in this Affair; they parted; my Lord to the Court, and Stepwell to the Den of a Thief— I don't mean to Ch— though, for all that; for he had had no business that way of a long season; but to Gripeley's he went, whither he got just at Dinnertime. There he desired the Coachman-Butler-Porter to present his most obedient service to Sir Beetlehead; and withal, to let his Worship know, ●hat he had some Business of great moment to discourse him about, wherefore he humbly begged the honour of some few minute's Conversation with him at his earliest leisure. Reins delivered his Compliment in the hearing of Philandra, who from thence began to conceive some hopes of an Amorous Intrigue with Worthygrace at least, or with some body or other by his means. The Old Jealous Knight had like to have forgot himself at first, and said, desire him to walk in; till looking on his Daughter, he cried out aloud in haste, Sirrah, desire him to walk into the outward Parlour, I will but dispatch a bit or two, and then I'll come to him. Stepwell had not expected above a quarter of an hour, but Gripely came, and desired him to speak to the Business. Stepwell then told him, that an honoured Friend of his, who had near Six Thousand Pounds a year, was in a present necessity of Four Thousand Pounds; which, if he pleased to furnish him with, the Gentleman his Friend would Mortgage an Estate to Gripely, which he had in Gloucester-shire, of Five Hundred Pounds a year, for his Security. Well, Mr. Stepwell (cried the Old hungry Wolf) what is his Name? His Name I beseech you, and where lies the rest of his Estate? To which, (t'other replied) his Name, Sir, is Worthygrace, of the Ancient Family of the Worthygraces, Originally of Yorkshire; tho' the Family has spread itself into most of the Counties of England, Scotland, and Wales; some of the other parts of his Estate lay in such, and such, and such Shires and Counties; giving him a more particular account than at present I am able to make you. Besides, Sir, (added he) I beseech your Worship to take notice, that he is no Swearer, Whore Master, Drunkard, nor Gamester. Pish, pish, (said the other) 'tis not a pin matter to you, or me, whether he be or no; yet (perhaps) I could wish he were all these: But since you say he is so fine a Gentleman, I pray you good Mr. Stepwell how comes he to have such an urgent occasion for this Sum, or be obliged to a Mortgage? Why, Sir, (replied Stepwell) he is unwilling to expose his necessity to any of his Acquaintance, because (possibly) he designs to marry one of their Daughters, wherefore he entreated me to assist him in this matter, since I have no knowledge of any of his Relations, or Country Acquaintance, more than your Worship has. Ay, but Mr. Stepwell (interrupted Gripely) you must give me leave Mr. Stepwell, you must give me leave to be better acquainted with him, and his Concerns, before I part with such a Sum of money to him; for it is my custom so to do, it is indeed, Mr. Stepwell— Tho' I suppose (proceeded he) this money is to carry on his Design on the Lady. It is so, Sir, (answered the other) and he desires by all means, that you would give yourself the satisfaction of enquiring into the Circumstances of his Estate, but at a distance, and with all possible caution, lest his Reputation should any way suffer. You may have a sufficient Character of him, and certain Information of the posture of his Affairs in Yorkshire, Gloucester-shire, and Hertford shire, from any of the Worthy Gentlemen of those Counties. No, Mr. Stepwell (said he) I shall not need I believe to give myself any great trouble in this matter, if this be the Rich Worthygrace of Yorkshire. The very same, Sir, (said Stepwell.) That's enough (Replied Gripeley) but tell me, Mr. Stepwell, is he already engaged to this Lady? Is she a Beauty? Is she a Wit? Or, what is chief to be considered, is she a Fortune? Sir, she's worth some 15 or 16000 l. (Replied he.) That's but a small Portion for so great an Estate as this (returned Gripely) and, if he be not already too far Engaged, I believe I can recommend him to a young handsome Lass, worth at least Thirty Thousand Pounds. On my word, Sir, (said Stepwell) that would be an extraordinary favour indeed, and I fancy he has not made his approach so close to her, but he can make an honourable retreat when he pleases. When may I see him then? (asked the Old Knight.) To morrow morning, if you please (replied t'other) in the mean time, I will prepare him to receive your kindness with the greater readiness, for (possibly) he will do something this Night, in order to his disengagement from the Lady he is now in pursuit of. Do so (said Old Gripely) and let me see you both here to morrow at Eleven precisely. I shall, Sir, (Returned Stepwell) and took his leave.  
When he left Old Dry-bones, he went immediately to Worthygrace, whom he found at his Lodgings in Bloomsbury-Square, where he repeated every particular of his Discourse with Gripely, to his honoured Friend. Telling him withal, that it could be no body else but Philandra, whom her Father intended to propose for a Wife to Worthygrace; who was enclineable enough to believe it; and Rewarded the Care and Cunning he had shown in the management of his Interest, with a Diamond Ring from off his finger, worth 40 l. which t'other received with as good a grace as any Coupé-Merchant in Town could do. Sir, (said he) your Present is of much greater value than the Gold or Stone could make it, forced from embracing your finger to adorn mine; which shall be no longer part of my hand, than it is able to serve you. Then Stepwell presented him with the Lord Bellamant's Letter to Philandra; acquainting him with the promise he had made my Lord, to deliver it to her own hands, or to some other Person who should assuredly do it; nor did he conceal the 50 Guineas he received from Bellamant. Worthygrace was a little surprised at that Letter, and at Stepwell's Relation of their Rencounter; and, tho' he had almost a Woman's Curiosity to see what it contained, yet he had too much honour to gratify that foolish itch of his humour; and taking the Letter from Stepwell, You shall be as good as your word to my Lord, (said he) for I will present it to her myself, tho' never so much to my disadvantage. I mean, if I have the happiness to see her to morrow. You will not, I hope (cried Maître de Dance) be so far far accessary to your own ruin there, as to attempt it. Pardon me, my Friend, (replied Worthygrace) but I will. I beseech you then (said Stepwell) read it first, Sir. Not for the purchase of my happiness in her (returned this Honourable Lover) I could then never hope it, because I'm sure I should not deserve it. No, (continued he) inviolate as it is, and teeming with all the most Beautiful and Charming Ideas, and Expressions of his passion that it may be; she shall receive it from my hand the very first opportunity I have to offer it to her. Saying so, he wrapped it up in a clean sheet of Paper, and put it into his Scritore. At which (cried Stepwell) Forgive me, Sir, I beseech you, if I think this the oddest method of making Love for a Mans own self, that I ever yet have heard of. Call it Knight-Errantry if thou wilt (returned Worthygrace) but I have my satisfaction in it.— Enough of this— To morrow by Ten in the morning, I expect you here. I shall then pay my duty to you, Sir, (said Stepwell) and left him to give orders for the morrows Expedition; which he took care should be as splendid as that little time would permit.  
At Ten the next morning Stepwell waited on him at his Lodgings, and soon after they made for Sir Beetlehead's; who, the preceding Night told his Daughter, that now he hoped he had provided her a Husband whom she could no way except against: For (said he) I have enquired of him of several Worthy Gentlemen, and Eminent Citizens, who all give me a most extraordinary Character of his Person, and Humour; and which is above all, of his Estate, being worth near Six Thousand pounds per Annum. And now (my dear Girl) I prithee do not stand in thine own light: No force, (Good Sir said she) and I will stretch my Inclinations as far as may be, to embrace one of your choice, that I may reccommend my duty to you. Then he ordered her to appear as Gay and Glorious as she could, to receive him the next morning. Near a quarter before Eleven, Worthygrace got to Old Gripely's, who entertained him very Courteously, and Generously; calling for a whole Bottle of Canary, which he himself loved best, to drink to him. After which, the Devil's Cashier, old Gripely (who only got and disposed of his money in the Devil's name, and for his use) fell upon the Business, and proposed his Daughter to Worthygrace, with Thirty Thousand Pounds, Who told him, that the Overture was, so much above his Merits and Expectation, that he feared he did but motion such great advantages on purpose to evade doing him that smaller obligation which he had entreated of him by Mr. Stepwell. Nor can I have reason, Sir, (said he) to think otherwise, since I am yet absolutely a stranger to you. I confess, Sir, (returned Gripely) you was a Stranger to me till now; but your Circumstances, I am, and have been before so well satisfied with, that I shall think both myself, and Daughter most happy, if you will accept her for your Wife. But it is not fair to oblige you to a promise of that, before you have seen her; wherefore you shall each of you have the satisfaction at the same time. We'll wait on you presently (added he) and went to fetch her. Now, Sir, (said Stepwell) will you take my word another time? Did not I say 'twas his Daughter, my Divine Mistress Philandra, whom he would propose to you? Ay, Philandra's the Charm; (cried Worthygrace) his Daughter, and Thirty Thousands Pounds were otherwise but dull music, but indifferent sounds to me: Philandra! That Philandra whom I first saw at the Boarding-School, whom I love!— No matter whose Daughter, or what Fortune she is, so she may be my Wife. 'Tis the very same, Sir, I dare assure you (said Coupé) Then for my Lord's Letter (said Worthygrace) O! I have it with me, I find. After some little further Discourse, Gripely led in the self same Philandra to 'em, accompanied with her Mother. Here, Sir, (said Gripely) Look you, this is my Daughter, as my Lady-Wife tells me, (and that was well put in) tell me how you like her, (pray?) Ha! you stand as if you were frighted at the sight of her. I am amazed, Sir, (cried Worthygrace) at so much Beauty; and I beg the Lady will pardon the astonishment, of which she is the Cause. I protest that was spoken like yourself, Mr. Worthygrace (said the Old Fool) like a fine Gentleman, and a Courtier: Nay, nay, I love to hear these Compliments in an honest way— Perhaps 'tis not the Court fashion to kiss, or (it may be) you are ashamed to do it before my face, therefore I'll be gone, and leave my Lady-Wife, and Daughter with you. No (Sir, replied Worthygrace) I dare do it in the face of Majesty, of Heaven itself, since my thoughts are Just and Honourable. And I am sorry, Sir, I gave you the occasion of instructing my duty. Saving so, he Saluted both the Lady-Mother, and Daughter. 'Uds precious (cried the Old Daddy) this puts me in mind of my wooing my Lady-Wife there; which I cannot remember without tears of joy: (And then (I think) he squeezed as much moisture out of his eyes, as might have made the tittle o'er an j, had it been Ink. But (continued he) I'll leave you together, and shall expect to find you and Mr. Stepwell at dinner with me here to day. I have a little business— a little business, your Servant, Sir— Daughter (pursued he) this is the man for my money. With that (clapping Worthygrace on the shoulder, and going out) he eased 'em of a great deal of impertinence. I hope, Sir (said the Lady-Mother) you'll pardon the infirmities of Old Age. And the defects of an Old Citizen's Education (added Philandra). It looks hearty and kind, Madam (returned Worthygrace) and I could wish, Madam, you would receive me with as true a welcome. Assure yourself, Sir, (replied Philandra) a Person of your merits can't want a due reception. We plead no merits from Heaven (returned he) but (Madam) if self-denial, and other the greatest mortifications be any way grateful, I am in hopes that this Present from me may give you a testimony of some of my weak Endeavours that way. And then he gave her the Lord Bellamant's Letter. At last, (added he) I persuade myself I shall not fail of a welcome for his sake that sent it. She immediately knew the hand, and blushed to receive it from Worthygrace. But recollecting herself, (said she) this I guess is some new piece of Gallantry from the Lord Bellamant; which, howsoever, shall not rob me of the honour and satisfaction of your Conversation, Gentlemen. Nay, Madam (said Stepwell, who all this while had been entertaining the Lady Gripely) we are but two to two, and, for my part, I decline any sort of dispute with your Ladyship. I beseech you, Madam (said Worthygrace) rob not yourself of the pleasure that Paper may afford you, for my sake. For assure yourself, I had rather suffer all the anguish of despair and jealousy, than you should want the least satisfaction. Pardon me, Sir (returned she) this will serve to entertain me, when I want the advantge of better Company. Then, Madam (replied he) you must arm yourself to receive a discourse of much the same nature, I fancy, with what that happy paper contains; which will (undoubtedly) be more troublesome to you, coming from me— I Love you, Madam (pursued he) with such a passionate sincerity, that I fear I could almost part with you to my Rival; if it might advance your happiness— say, Madam, have you decreed that I shall eternally be miserable in your indifference; and have you determined that I must quit my pretensions to my happy Rival? Blast, Madam, blast all my hopes with one cruel and irrevocable word, and let me die by your Thunder. If, Sir, on me depends your happiness, or misery, be confident I wish you the First: And in a greater measure, than I can possibly create it to you. This indeed, Madam (said Worthygrace) is an obliging manner of Condemning me to the last, since you exclude me Paradise, and leave me all the lower World to range in— But be assured, Madam, That if all the Beauties of the Universe were divinely put together into One, by their Great Creator; That stupendious One could not bless me, were it not, as it is, your own Beauteous self; who will not receive me into those joys you have entirely reserved to the Lord Bellamant. Certainly, Sir, (said she) this Tempest cannot be of long continuance. This is such a volley of Love as I never before received. Ah! Madam, (cried he) you rally and play with my earnest passion— Forgive me, if I say this is a little inhuman— But 'tis the effect of your Divinity that sport's itself with my misfortunes. Doubtless (returned Philandra) such another storm o' t'other side from my Lord, would give me such another surfeit, that I should swoon at the very name of Love ever after. Thus she evaded giving him any direct answer, either to make him hope, or despair; for she thought 'twas convenient to keep him in play, lest she should miss of Bellamant. Their Conference lasted for near two hours, at the end of which, Old Gripely returned.— Well, my new, but worthy acquaintance (said he to Worthygrace) what progress have you made in your Amours with my Daughter? Why, Sir, answered Philandra, (by way of question) D'ye think the Gentleman is used to boast of a Lady's favours? Ah! Madam (cried Worthygrace) you have taken care that I shall have no such occasion from you— But I can suffer. 'Uds precious, Noble Mr. Worthygrace, (cried Old Gripely,) suffer me no suffers, I'll ha' no suffering here, unless it be, that I suffer you to make much of my Daughter, and that she do the same by you— Come (continued he) Dinner wait's us in t'other room, and there we'll make much of ourselves. 'Twas about two of the clock when they sat down, and the last Course was served in about Four, (for they had a Miser's Feast) they all eat hearty, and were as pleasant as their several Circumstances would permit 'em.  
In the mean time the Lord Bellamant having expected Stepwell till Three, who (you know) was otherwise engaged, grew impatient, and on a sudden thought of a design not much unlike Worthygraces; commanded his Coach man to drive him to Gripely's; where, just as he got out of his Coach, he found Sir Blunder enquiring for the aforesaid Worshipful Cent. per Cent. The Boobily Knight was strangely surprised to see my Lord at that place, and could hardly Salute him, but with a malicious leer, and awkward bow. But my Lord knew how to make his advantage of such an opportunity; and said to him (returning the Compliment of Hat and Cringe,) that he was happy to see him there, as well as to hear that Sir Beetlehead was at home: to whom, he desired Sir Blunder to lead him the way. The Lubberly Booby had yet so much of pretended Good-manners, as to tell him he knew his duty better than so, and that it would be an honour to follow his Lordship. No (replied my Lord) Sans Façon good Sir Blunder, you are better acquainted here than I am, therefore pray take upon you for once the trouble of my Guide, and Leader. So in they went directly to the latter end of a Feast, which (perhaps) was the beginning of a Fray. But had not my Lord arrived just at that moment, when the Servant told Sir Blunder that Gripely was within, he had certainly returned unedifyed as he came, as to the knowledge of his Mistresses Concerns— 'Uds precious (cried Sir Beetlehead) Sir Blunder, we have wanted you all this while to complete our mirth, but you are now very welcome— Ha', what fine Gentleman have you brought to my poor habitation? (pursued he, seeing my Lord) An humble Servant of yours, and of those fair Ladies (replied Bellamant) Mr. Worthygrace (added he) we are happy to meet here. Ay, my Lord (returned Worthygrace) we are so, in the sight of these fair Ladies. 'Uds precious, my Lord, (cried Old Gripely) your Lordship is welcome, if you don't bring a Pope in your Belly. No, Sir Beetlehead (replied Bellamant) but I brought an Angel in my heart, I mean your Daughter, Sir, who fills it with all the Ideas of Beauty that Humanity is capable of conceiving, and much more than it can express. 'Uds precious, cried the Old man, (a little mellow) you are a fine Gentleman, my Lord, a fine Gentleman indeed; therefore pray sit down, or you'll tyre me with standing. I do so, Sir (said my Lord sitting) To make you easy, and to make myself happy, I'll place me just opposite, and most remote to what I most love in this World, and to what you hate I should make any nearer approaches to. Come, Sir Blunder (continued he) tho' you have been blest in the enjoyment of the pretty Marianna; yet you are almost in the Circumstances with me, as to the Beauteous Philandra. This, he said, putting Slouch into the next chair to him. My Lord (said Philandra, who thought it no more sin to grieve the Spirit of the zealous Sir Blunder, than he did to lie with the Maid Marianna,) I fear your Lordship forgets that his Worship has been already so happy in his first Love, that he need not doubt his success against another, especially, when Aided, Abetted, Comforted and Assisted by a Father's Good, Pious, and kind Instructions and Intentions; which yet he could not have wanted, but for your Lordship's and this Honourable Gentleman's Address, and more plentiful Estates. But he may thank his Stars that there is one obstacle removed, for it seems your Lordship is a Roman Catholic. And for my part, Sir Blunder (interrupted Worthygrace) I am so far from having received any particular favour from this our adored Lady, that I must utterly despair, unless her unparallelled and matchless Duty prevail against her inclinations, and his Lordship's Merits. Sir, (replied Bellamant) you have always the good Fortune and Intention (it seems) to make me Debtor to your kind Opinion of me— would to Heavens your Wishes were as much to my advantage. But, Sir Blunder (pursued he, changing the Discourse) How does the poor Titt? Has she yet taken her Degree in Bethlehem, or Bridewell? It must be in the first; for certainly none but a mad thing would ha' laid a miscarriage upon an Alderman's Fellow: It looks as if you had not been wicked, or able enough to get a Bastard; when (no doubt) your Apprentice might ha' done you that piece of service, had you been Married. But since your Worship is a Bachelor, I suppose she has been Flawged (as they call it) for putting the Saddle on the wrong Horse's back— Ay, my Lord (returned Slouch) the Wench did afterwards confess it was my Apprentice; for which (as your Lordship says) she was Flawged in good faith. At which, they all laughed aloud: And (said the Lady Gpipely) this is as happy and full a discovery as any Criminal could make of himself. You're in the right, my Lady-Wife, (replied Old Gripely) 'twas a silly Wench, a silly Wench— But no more of that, if you please. No, (said Bellamant) I must remind myself of my Friend's business, about which I now come to solicit you. There is a Friend of mine (continued he) that wants five thousand Guineas, now I can't spare him above two thousand; wherefore, if you will oblige him, Sir, with that Sum, I will Engage, or Mortgage some port of my Estate for his payment of it Why, look you my Lord (cried Gripely) this Engaging must be Mortgaging, and I done't like any of your Church-Lands. Hark you Sir Beetlehead (cried Bellamant) I fancy that among all your Mortgages, you have one or more of our Church-Lands; that is, of Papists Church-Lands, as you style 'em; and yet I find there is no great danger of their infecting you with Popery. But I mean some of those Lands that my Lawful Father and Mother left to me (for perhaps she was an Heiress) those will I dip unto thee. This requires farther thought, my Lord (said he) and you shall have your answer to morrow this time. Nay, (replied Bellamant) if my my business, or my Friend's be not done by Six in the Morning, we shall have no further occasion of yours, or any other assistance. Six a Clock is early (returned the Old one) but I'll see what may be done, my Lord, after I have discoursed this Honourable Gentleman: So, my Lord, I beg your Pardon (continued he) taking Worthygrace out o'th' Room with him, to contrive the hastening his Match with Philandra. 'Twas then Bellamant began to show the violence of his Love in his Jealousy. Ah, Madam, said he, approaching her, while the Coupé-Merchant, and the Booby Knight diverted the Lady-Mother; 'tis now high time for me to despair, since here I found my happy Rival; seated next to you, and feasting on your Eyes; happy he is in every Circumstance, in his Person, in his Sense, in his Estate, and, no doubt, happy in your Love. By your Father's approbation encouraged, received by you with a just opinion of his extraordinary Qualifications; how long, Heaven knows, I'm sure I know not— This he spoke somewhat low however, that they might not hear him; which they perceiving, were so civil as to entertain each other with their own impertinence. Nay, my Lord, said Philandra rising, I find you are hot, we must walk. I thank you, Madam, returned he, that you seem at least to take as much care of me, as my Grooms do of my Beasts; tho' they never ran such hot Courses, as I do in pursuit of you. You fly me, Madam, now, continued he, you have shunned me these fourteen or fifteen unaccountable days; for so they have been to me; since in all that time I have not once been blest with the sight of you, till this hour. O Heavens! Madam, pursued he raving, where are all your vows? where are all your tender expressions of Love to me? Some indeed I wear about me, under your Hand and Seal; and all of 'em where you have fixed 'em in my heart. Whence not you yourself can remove'em, unless you bid me despair, and die— This is all wondrous fine, indeed my Lord, replied she, and since I find you love me, even to Jealousy, I'm resolved to give your Lordship farther occasions of that passion— And look you, my Lord, she continued, I suppose I wear about me some of your Lordship's tender expressions of Love in this Paper; which I received from your happy Rival, as you think him: This he delivered to me, unopened I dare believe— Unopened as it is! interrupted he; now, by all my hopes on Earth, which terminate in you, Madam; my Love is not more sacredly inviolate, than is this Paper; I know the Seal, and find 'tis not abused— Oh! this is more dreadful to me, than his pretensions to you, Madam. And did he give it thus, without a scoff? Just as you see it, my Lord, and with respect (answered Philandra) Ah, would h'had softened the hard faithful wax, and ravished wide the innocent Contents! I than might justly have returned the wrong, and from his breast have torn a Villain's heart, teeming with Sacrilege against you— But now, now it appears so Gloriously adorned, with your Bright Form in every corner of it, that I must fear to touch it. Oh, that Love should rob me of so generous a Friend— I mean, whom I could wish mine— Make him so, returned she, I shall not hinder such a happy union. Nothing but you on Earth could do it, Madam, replied Bellamant. Assure yourself I will not, said she— Here, my Lord, take your Letter, I beseech you, and own the obligation he designed you— 'twill be a good beginning of your Friendship— Now did this fair Devil desire nothing less.— No, Madam (replied he) I will not rob you of what He presented to you: Besides, if ever you had any regard of my Passion; I could wish, you would keep it: For, I fear, it is the last you will ever be troubled with from me. Troubled I would have you, Madam, when you read it; to think how faithful and how Passionate a Lover you have thrown away. It seems my Lord (Returned Philandra) you are at length grown weary of feigning a Passion; and would now persuade me, that I am displeased with your pretended services: But, assure yourself, my Lord, Be it real or counterfeit; it has already given me a very pretty entertainment. You will e'er long I doubt not, Madam, be judge of its truth or falsehood.— In the mean time, Madam; enjoy yourself, with the Thoughts of your new Lover! perhaps they will prove your only satisfaction. Philandra did not know what to make of this last part of his discourse; and was about to beg his Lordship to explain himself, just as her Father reentered with Worthygrace. The chat than was continued among 'em, for upwards of an hour; the Rivals plying their Mistress very warmly; who returned their Volleys with equal heat: In which she took occasion to tell Worthygrace; that she must have better proofs of his Love and Service, than a bare Tongue-Devotion: And, in order to that, he should wave the advantage he had in her Father's opinion; and pay her no more Visits, than he would to an old, doting Relation of his, who lived most remote to him in Town; if any such he had. To which Worthygrace replied, that he would obey her, tho' to the hazard of his Life, and certain loss of all his quiet. Madam (said my Lord) if this worthy Gentleman's Fate be so Rigorous; what severity has your Ladyship reserved for me! How often, I mean, how seldom may I be permitted to pay my Devotion to you in an Age? The seldomer the better (Returned she): once more will satisfy for your whole Life. So, (said Bellamant) this comes of enquiring into a Man's own destiny. Some farther prattle they had; at the end of which they took their leaves of the fair Ladies and the two Knights. As they were going out, my Lord told Worthygrace, that he had a Curiosity to show him at his Lodgings; and therefore desired, that he would give him the favour of his Company thither. Your Lordship (said Worthygrace) shall Command me in any thing. But one; (Interrupted my Lord,) showing Worthygrace into the Coach. Mr. Stepwell your Servant (said Worthygrace) you had best make use of my Coach to your own House. Adieu, Mr. Stepwell (said Bellamant.) He humbly made his Obeisance to 'em both, and Rolled home in State: But not without some suspicion of what might happen between 'em.  
There were now no more in the Coach, than my Lord and Worthygrace; when my Lord, with a sigh, began thus to him.— How strangely does Fortune now at last begin to treat me! I mean, how severely! since, 'tis the first most sensible Affliction that ever touched me, to have you for my Rival. You, Worthygrace (continued he) whom, above all Men my Soul would choose for its dearest Companion in all things; but in a Mistress. I know the greatness of your mind; have seen a little of the sweetness of your Temper; have received an obligation from you this day, in delivering my Letter to Philandra, sealed as I sent it, by that Trifle Stepwell, from whom you had it. And, after all this, is it not hard, that I must own to you, I cannot be happy if you live? At least in your pretensions to Philandra! This, my Lord (replied Worthygrace) is certainly the greatest of my Misfortunes, since, (give me leave to own this sacred truth to you!) your Lordship is the only Person among all Mankind, with whom I could have contracted a most Religious Friendship: As, on the other side, That Charming Creature, created to our Misery, is she alone in whom I must be happy, as in a Wife. O! Pardon me! (returned Bellamant) you must not; while I live: You must therefore force your happiness through me; as I will attempt mine from you. Tho' Heaven knows with what regret! To morrow, Sir, (continued he) I shall expect you on the backside of Southampton House. The Field is near your Lodging, and not far from mine. Bring with you, two of your best Friends, as I will of mine; whom I beseech you engage to be no farther Active, than to endeavour the escape of the survivor. For, (haply) we may not both fall. Nor either of us, I could wish (returned Worthygrace) but (ah, my Lord!) these are but wishes. No more (said Bellamant) but thus I have contrived it, if you please:— our Chairs shall wait us at convenient distance; and our Friends shall prevent the unseasonable kindness of our Servants. And now, in the mean time we'll pray for one another. And, if it be my Fate to fall by you; Heaven forgive you, in its sweetest Mercy! And, if from you (my Lord) I meet my Death; Heaven grant you happy life, here and hereafter; so Worthygrace returned; and asked, What hour, my Lord? 'Tis light enough at four (replied Bellamant) be that the hour: If 'tis befitting your convenience, Sir. I shall most punctually observe your Lordship's Commands, said Worthygrace, Till then, let us embrace, and Think, and Act as Friends, (said my Lord, embracing him) To which t'other returned, and sighed, ah! would to Heaven, my Lord, I might for ever thus clasp you, as my Soul's Heart!  
Having thus assigned the time and place, they came at last to Bellamant's Lodgings; where, after they had taken a friendly Bottle, Worthygrace left him, to find and prepare his Friends against the next Morning; which was as well Bellamant's business that night. How sound they slept I can't say: But they met exactly together at the time and place. Good morrow to your Lordship, (cried Worthygrace.) A happy one to my Dear and Honoured Friend, (Returned my Lord.)  we begin this unfriendly dispute (continued he) let me endeavour to make an acknowledgement and return of the Obligation you laid on me yesterday.— I here declare, before these Gentlemen, our worthy Friends, that I am the Aggressour: That I provoked you to seek my Life, to defend your own. I know your Circumstances with his Majesty are not so advantageous for you, as I could wish: I am sensible, you refused to serve him with your interest, for taking off the Penal Laws and Test. Mine are quite otherwise: This Letter therefore, pursued he, showing a Letter, is superscribed To his most Sacred Majesty, whom Heaven bless! said the Lord Bellamant; this of my Death will give a just account; as well as of the manner how I sought it.— O! this, my Lord, replied Worthygrace, this is unjustly Generous: since 'tis Rivalled Love that makes us both contend for the most glorious prize. No more thy Friend but Rival think me then! cried Bellamant, as I will look on thee; our Swords will else want points. No more as Friend my Lord? sked Worthygrace. No more, t'other a replied. Philandra is the word: At which they both drew; and fell to it hearty. Each was an excellent Master in that Bloody Science; and long was the dispute: Many and large Wounds were dealt on both sides; and the Effusion of Blood was great on each part. At last they closed; and struggling, fell both together, with their Swords and Arms over each others back: And both endeavoured to rise, but neither could: Which their Friends perceiving, each Party took his Man and bore him off to his Chair. But, to give 'em their due, those Spectators would fain have been otherwise Active; and had been; had they not engaged themselves most Religiously to the contrary: And it was happy for the Principals, that they did not Act in the Bloody part of this Scene. So with Sighs and Tears almost gushing from their Eyes, they took a sorrowful leave of each other: And, going different ways, they disposed of their Honourable unfortunate Charges; as they over night had received instructions from them.  
The two Worthies were soon wanting to their Friends and Acquaintance; especially Worthygrace to Stepwell; who, as I said before, had some jealousy of the design. Whereupon, next day he waited on Philandra, to know, if she had seen, or heard from him: Who was a little surprised, to hear him inquire of his Friend from her. I was going, Mr. Stepwell, said she, to ask you concerning his health. His Health, Madam! (replied he in a melancholy tone) pray Heaven, he has his life! What means this? asked she. I'll say Amen to that Prayer always. But satisfy me, I beseech you, why is there a more particular necessity of it now? He then acquainted her with the Grounds he had for his Suspicion, that Bellamant and he had fought. Avert it Heaven! said she. She had hardly made an end of this short Petition; e'er her Father and Mother came in trembling. The first, in a doleful hey (perhaps, in gam-ut or C-fa-ut flat. In which most of our famous farewells are set,) told her, that the Lord Bellamant had basely Murdered Noble Mr. Worthygrace. However, added he, 'tis some comfort yet, that he first dispatched that Papist Bully; who else would ha' Cut his Throat, with Pistols, Fuzees, Musket, Blunderbusses, and all sorts of Fire-Arms. At this Stepwell could hardly forbear smiling, for all this sorrowful account of his Friend and Patron: But Philandra and her Mother were almost drowned in floods of their own Tears. However, Philandra, recollecting herself a little, told her Father, that she could not believe, Bellamant had basely Murdered Worthygrace; since he himself was killed before. No, no, Madam, replied Stepwell, all the World knew my Lord too Generous to do any thing below the Character of the bravest. But, why, Mr. Stepwell, said the Mother, since you had but too just a suspicion of their intention; why did you not endeavour to prevent 'em in it? Alas, Madam, replied he, nothing but Heaven or the King's Commands could have hindered it. Nor could the last have long obstructed their fatal Resolutions. O, most unfortunate of Womankind! cried out Philandra: Who will endure to hear my hated name? Since, for my sake two such brave Men are lost. My dear Daughter, and only Child (said the old Man) do not grieve so immoderately! Sir Blunder is yet alive, who will make a better Husband for thee than either of 'em; and him, I resolve thou shalt marry to morrow; or I profess, thou shalt not inherit one hundred pence of my Estate. At this the Daughter fell into a swoon, and no sooner was she come to herself, than the Lady-Mother fell into a Fit: Insomuch, that there was a most hellish stink for the space of an hour and half: In all which time she showed variety of Postures, and wonderful Agility of Body. The Perfumes with which they entertained her dainty Nostrils, were Assa Foetida, Spirit of Armoniac Salt, Spirit of Castor, Oil of Amber: The next Fumigations were of abount a pound or two of Feathers, and a blue Apron and half of the Kitchenmaids; which last stank so powerfully, that it brought her a little to herself!— Give me a little Water (Cried she in a weak Languishing tone) at which her then useful Husband saluted her on one side, with the wholesome Scent of Spirit of Hartshorn; which, with a Cup of Flower and Water did her business most effectually for the present: Tho, when Mr. Physmacary came to look into her case; he pronounced her a Dying Woman. For she had so strained herself in acting her part, that there was not a joint about her, that did not most sensibly suffer in this elaborate Scene. Besides she had been too frequently busy in her Closet, with her cold Tea and right Irish Usquebagh; so that in less than a fortnight's time she died: And not many days after, the old Skeleton her Husband cheated the Worms with a mere dry Carcase. However he had the satisfaction  he died, to see and speak with his dear Daughter; to whom he gave the blessing of above 30000 l. Estate. For the other Blessing of his Prayers ('tis feared) they did her more hurt than good. Philandra, during the time of his sickness, was very diligent in her Attendance on him; which he rewarded with all his Worldly goods, except a thousand pounds; which he bequeathed in Legacies to some of his Piteous Poor near Relations, and to his menial Servants. Not forgetting his good Friend Sir Blunder; to whom he gave a Diamond-Ring worth above an hundred pounds; and withal begged his kind assistance of his Daughter, whenever she should need it: Recommending him to her once more as the fittest Man for her Husband.— You may believe, she took on like any thing, for the death of a Father, whose life robbed her of such an Estate; and the Pleasure of managing it according to the Gaiety of her humour.  
The first thing she did then, after the Interment of her Father, which was very solemn and sumptuous, was to remove from that dismal Scene of Sorrow and Villainy; that damned, ugly, old, dark House in the City, whence she had buried her too best Friends; to adorn a Countryhouse of here's about seven miles off; where she continued, to every one's thinking that saw her, in deep Mourning somewhat more than a month: In which time the two Rivals were perfectly cured of the Wounds they had given each other, by the extraordinary care and skill of their Friends, on both sides; which however was unknown to each other. But the Wounds they had received from their false and Cruel Mistress (as Bellamant and Worthygrace both thought her) were still bleeding fresh, if any body could have seen into their Hearts, you must think. The news of their Death was still currant all over England, among those who had heard of their dispute; as well Friends as Strangers: unless, among those who managed this report: which gave Worthygrace opportunity to slip over into France, in a disguise; where he thought to find a Brother of his, of about seventeen: But (it seems) he was gone for Rome about 2 months before the arrival of his elder Brother. Mean while the Lord Bellamant caused a Coffin to be privately buried in a Chapel of his in Lancashire, where best part of his Estate lay: The Report of his Death, which now was no longer doubted, gave him the happy opportunity of Transforming himself into the habit of his Sister Arabella; the exact likeness he had before; insomuch, that he might easily have deceived his own Wife, if he had been married, unless, perhaps, in Bed.  
'Twas in this seeming Transmutation of Sexes that he waited on Philandra at her House (for he had an account of all her motions, as well as of all the accidents in the Family at the old Dungeon) The counterfeited Arabella pretended to be just arrived from France, and that she came to inquire of Philandra, whether my Lord her Brother were alive or dead. Philandra was strangely surprised to hear that Arabella was come to give her a visit; and ran instantly, with all the wings that wonder could give her; and add to those, the haste that her love to the memory of the Lord Bellamant inspired her with, and you can think no otherwise than that she flew to receive the supposed Arabella, whom she embraced with the most endearing expressions of Love, and Friendship, that a Soul like hers was capable of pretending; adding a kiss almost at every period. And when she named Bellamant, whole Rivers of tears flowed silently from her fatal, and then most charming eyes; as if she seemed to endeavour with those, to wash off her guilt of his blood. Bellamant was damnably put to't, to check and withhold himself from a discovery of who he was; so provoking were her Caresses: But the apprehensions he had of his Rival's death, forbade him to hazard his life in a Woman's hands, tho' it had almost flown from him whether he would or no, while she was kissing him. With some difficulty I think he got lose from the Serpent's embraces; telling her, that the memory of the dear Lord her Brother was so afflicting, that unless she took a little air, she should immediately Die away. With that, he withdrew to the window, and a kind fresh gale pretty well cooled him. Then turning again to her, he presented her with a Paper. See here, Madam (said he) how passionately and constantly my dear Brother loved you; this I found among some Papers of his, superscribed to you. Philandra took it, and read, 

At length Disdain  
Has broke the Chain,  
And I am no longer your Amorous Slave;  
My heart is too great,  
For so servile a Fate,  
And merely Despair now has rendered me brave.  
With equal contempt I behold all your Frowns,  
And defy all the scorn which on me you misplace;  
For (alas) 'twas my madness that gave my Wounds,  
And all my Devotion, Idolatry was.   

But (Oh!) my heart,  
Still feels the smart,  
And Death, I perceive, will the Conquest complete;  
Then frown once again,  
T'encourage my pain,  
And let not your Pity, your Rigour defeat:  
For since I must fall a Martyr to Love,  
Let ev'ry sad Circumstance torture my breast;  
That I your Injustice the greater may prove,  
And you be Tormented, when I am at Rest.    
This, Madam, said he, you may believe was written since his fatal engagement with Mr. Worthygrace; for the Characters of the Letters seem, as if made by a weak and tremulous hand. I fear they were, replied she, but his Character is engraved here in my heart, too fair and deep to be erazed by any thing but Death. The feigned Arabella then gave her his Picture drawn in minature, and set in Gold, encircled with Diamonds, and other Stones of great value; which she received with a thousand kisses, and lodged it between her lovely Breasts. That, Madam, said he, should have been the Throne of the Living and Substantial Bellamant. And so it should, returned Philandra, could he but live again. In vain we wish, or suppose that, Madam, replied he, I must therefore divorce myself from your dear sight, that with the greater freedom I may alone mourn his hard Fate. 'Twill be performed with the greater Solemnity, Madam, (said Philandra) if you stay, and see me bear the heavier part; for the loss of a Brother is not comparable to that of a Lover. However, Madam, replied he, I shall be the more sensibly afflicted, to see myself outdone in my Grief. No, Madam, interrupted Philandra, you shall not rob me so soon of your Charming Conversation, for I did at least flatter myself with the hopes of your Ladyships stay here this week. You'll pardon me, Madam, said Bellamant, I have yet lain but two Nights in England, and have not so much as any outward show of mourning for the loss of so dear a Brother. As soon as I reached the Town, I went to pay my earliest respects to you, Madam, at the old House; and not finding you there, I learned from Sir Blunder where I might be so happy. And now, Madam, added he, you cannot but grant that it is necessary I should make all possible haste to my dear Brother's Lodgings (whence I came directly to wait on you) to order what befits my Quality, and present Circumstances. In this, (returned Philandra) tho' with some regret, I must submit to your Ladyship, yet not without a promise of as speedy a return as your Honour's convenience shall present. I do most certainly oblige myself to that happiness, Madam, Replied the Beautiful Counterfeit, and I am so far provided, that I have already found, and entertained my Brother's Coachman, and two of his Footmen, who brought, and attended me hither; but Theodora my Woman, whom I took with me to Paris, I left there at my coming away, hardly recovered of a Surfeit she took with eating too many Grapes: Nor do I mean to take any other, being almost assured of her Recovery. Secure in your goodness of your promise, Madam, said Philandra, I shall now more earnestly look and wish for that kind and blessed day, that shall return you to my longing arms, than I should expect my Wedding-day with the most Beautiful and most Accomplished Man breathing. O happy, yet happy Bellamant (cried he) if thou knewst how kindly thou art preserved in her memory, to which, I eternally recommend, and leave him. Madam (returned Philandra) I am your Honour's most humble Servant— So waiting on him to his Coach, they bowed, and parted.  
While Bellamant was thus successfully personating his Sister Arabella; Worthygrace, who had been near a fortnight in Paris, one day made a visit to a Lady of Quality of his former acquaintance; with whom he found the Lady Arabella, in company with the Lady her Relation, to whom she went over. You may imagine he was a little startled at so strange a Rencounter, especially, when her Beautiful Face reminded him so nearly of the Lord her Brother, whom he believed killed by his hand. He was going therefore to retreat; telling the Lady, that since he saw her engaged in better Company, and, haply, in greater business than a bare formal Visit, which he then came to pay her, he would take an opportunity to wait on her, to obtain his pardon, for having given her a diversion of happiness she must needs enjoy in the Conversation of those fair Ladies.  
The Lady, his friend, who was of an extraordinary good humour, and had a great respect for him; ran immediately to him, and taking him by the hand, told him, that his visit was so surprisingly pleasant, since she had not seen him in more than a twelve month, and knew not that he was in France; that if Madam Maintenon had been there, discoursing and consulting her how to make her great at Court, (which she could not be so vain or fond as to wish) she would certainly have left her abruptly, to have enquired of his health, and the present state of his Affairs, if he would not have condescended to join conversation with them. Worthygrace seeing himself so finely drawn in, set as good a face upon the matter, as his Conscience would permit him; and after having made his Baise-mains to all three of them, he sat down, and entertained 'em very pleasantly for about half an hour; partly with some of the late accidents that befell him in England; giving 'em a little hint of the passion he had for a Beautiful Lady; but never so much as touching upon any dispute he had for her, or naming the Lord Bellamant. Arabella, who all this while looked on him very steadfastly, when ever his eyes were turned from her, which he took care should not be very often. Told him, after he had given 'em an account of his misfortune in Love, she fancied she had the honour to be known to that Beautiful English Lady, to whom he had paid so great a devotion, as well as the good fortune to have seen him once in the Mall with her, where then was the Lord Bellamant, her Brother. And I remember, Madam, returned he, that I then had the happiness to behold those  Charms you bear about you, without the apprehension of any danger from 'em; since than I was prepossessed: But now I find a greater misfortune attends me; for that I know, from this moment I must both Love, and Despair. Arabella, who possibly had a very advantageous opinion of his Person, and Character, the last of which, she had from her Brother; blushed, and smiled, telling him, that she could not but commend his Gallantry, tho' it were so customary to him. She than proceeded to ask him when he saw her Brother? and whether he were well, or no? To which, he answered, that it was near two months since he had the honour to see him. And, added he, Madam, I hope in Heaven he is well. If, Sir, said the Lady Arabella, you have had such ill fortune in your Love of Philandra, I am apt to flatter myself, that my Brother may have better; since I have often heard him say, he valued no Rival but yourself. I can assure your Ladyship, replied he, he has none of me now. But when did your Ladyship hear from him? Not these two months, returned Arabella, that is, Sir, I have received but one Letter from him since I left England; which came to me some few days after my arrival hither— Worthygrace thought it was very odd, that he should have been almost as long dead, and she not have an account of it in all this time. However, he thought fit to ask her no more questions for Conscience sake. So that after about an hours more discourse of the Affairs of the French Court, and of Things indifferent to them, the Ladies took their leave; and when Worthygraee had seen 'em in their Coach, he returned with his good humoured Acquaintance; to whom he made a solemn declaration of his sudden passion for Arabella; and withal, told her what reason he had to despair of succeeding in it; not so much as omitting the Duel, nor the fatal Consequence, as he thought, of it. The Lady was much disturbed at the bloody part of the story; however, she promised her assistance, and the interest she had with the Person of Honour, Arabella's Relation. But by the way, she asked him, how he could so easily quit himself of Philandra's Chains, and so immediately fall passionately in love with Arabella? To which he replied, Madam, your last Question is an answer to your first, because I am fallen passionately in love with Arabella, whom at first sight I thought one of the most Beautiful Creatures in the world; therefore I have quitted myself of Philandra's chains. Nor is this all, for I am sensible, that this Lady was Educated in all the strict, yet generous Principles of true Virtue, and Honour, tho' she be a Roman-Catholick: Not to speak of the advantage she has of Philandra, in real Beauty; which, on a review, any impartial eye may discern; when t'other has but a tawdry, wanton, fading prettiness, which cannot hold above ten years. Nor will I much reflect on the ill Principles of her Parents, nor the Illgotten Estate, that made her Father the first Worshipful Rogue of his Family; who brought her up in the true Whining and Canting Principles of a most Famous City, where there are above a thousand several Families of the Gripley's. But why, asked the Lady, was not all this considered before you fought? Before we fought, Madam, replied he, I loved her, and could think o' nothing but enjoying her. But, Madam, continued he, to your discretion I commend all my future happiness on Earth; and I humbly kiss your hands till to morrow. Be confident, she returned, you shall not want the best endeavours of your Servant.  
When Worthygrace left her, he went directly to his Lodgings, and dispatched a Letter to his Sister Henrietta, a Lady of about Eighteen; being a year older than her Brother Horatio, at that time in Italy: In which, he entreated her by all means, to confirm, and continue the Report of his Death; and with all, begged of her to dispense with her modesty so far for his sake, as to personate her younger Brother in Man's habit; for in that borrowed shape, she might the more freely converse with Gentlemen in Town, some of which, might happily give her a certain account, whether the Lord Bellamant were living, or dead; if not, possibly Philandra would, whom he advised to deceive with that disguise, unless she found her a friend to his interest; which would undoubtedly strengthen her, and all the rest of his Acquaintance, in the opinion of his death, and that perhaps, was the only way to preserve his life. With this Letter, he sent her a Bill of Exchange for a Thousand Pounds, that she might appear as her Brother Horatio, next Heir to the Estate.  
Upon perusal of these Papers, she was at first in a dispute, whether she should act according to her Brother's entreaty, or obey the severe dictates of her modesty, which seemed absolutely to forbid her to change her Sex's habit: but at last she was overruled, by the necessity of her Brother's Circumstances. Wherefore leaving Yorkshire in Man's , with a young Gentlewoman her Attendant, she came to Town; where she equipped herself, and her Companion with Mourning Suits; the Mourning Coach and Liveries were soon prepared, and all things necessary, and decent. And thus accoutered, she resolved first for Philandra's, having had a great curiosity a long time, to see that fatally Celebrated Beauty. Rightly imagining too, that she might as soon learn the certainty of Bellamant's Life, or Death, from her, as from any one of my Lord's Acquaintance in Town, to whom she was as yet a stranger. The feigned Horatio was most kindly received by Philandra, with all the signs of a most sensible grief, for the death of so brave a Man, and so Generous a Lover as Worthygrace. Telling the Counterfeit Horatio, that she could not part with so near a Relation, and so dear a Friend of that Worthy Man, whose Love was his only fault, and misfortune; without giving him more signal proofs, and ample expressions of the veneration she had for his Memory; wherefore she must needs oblige him, and his friend, to stay some few days with her; which, after some importunity, they yielded to; where we will leave 'em, and make a trip over into France.  
The next day after Worthygrace had entertained Arabella with the discourse of his unfortunate Love; the French Lady of Quality, Worthygrace's particular Friend, went with him in his Coach, to wait on the Lady Arabella, whom they found almost drowned in tears; however, she received 'em with all the evenness of temper that her afflicted Circumstances would allow of. The Lady asked her, what could so suddenly overcast the accustomed Sunshine of her face, and serenity of her mind; with which but yesterday she had made 'em so happy. She replied, that she had received a Letter not two hours since, that brought her a certain account, that her Brother was killed in a Duel, about two months ago.  
Wherefore, Madam, (pursued she) I hope, you'll rather pity and pardon, than blame these Tears; which seem to give your Ladyship and this Honourable Person, your Friend, but a rude and untoward Reception. Ah, Madam, (replied the French Lady with Tears in her Eyes) your Grief appears so beautiful and just on so sad an occasion; that I'm in Love with it; and must, in some measure partake of it. For, I have sometimes had the Honour of my Lord your Brothers obliging Conversation.— All this (you may believe) was no little mortification to Worthygrace; who told Arabella, that, tho' Nature had denied him the relief of expressing his sorrow in Tears; yet he believed, his Heart was as sensibly touched with the loss of so Gallant a Man, even as the Charming Arabella's. (And I am apt to Credit him) And, Madam, (continued he) since we find your Ladyship under so great a pressure of Affliction we ought to esteem ourselves happy in our visit to you; since we may help to bear some part of its weight, and break the violence of its fall on so tender a Heart. In my opinion (said Climane, the French Lady his Friend) 'twere better, we let the torrent of her Grief waste its impetuosity without any opposition; and leave her, as it were to Enjoy the sullen Usurper of her Reason. There is a kind of satisfaction in a silent and interrupted Melancholy. 'Tis confessed, Madam, (replied he) but to give place to it at first I fear, may embolden and confirm it. I am obliged, Sir, (said Arabella) to the kindness of your fears: But, I must needs acknowledge it a greater Obligation, if you will permit me the Pleasure of this one days retreat. For these ensuing hours (returned Climane) we shall not contend with your Ladyship: But to morrow, in the name of good Reason, we claim as our own. 'Tis indispensibly due to our Charity. Look therefore you propose to receive us with as little uneasiness as we can expect from a Lady in your Circumstances! So, without staying for an answer, or making any Compliments, they took their leaves in an humble and profound silence. She was very glad they were gone: For tho' she were extremely troubled at the news her Brother sent her of the desperate condition he lay so long under, through the largeness and number of his Wounds; yet she was overjoyed at the certain knowledge of his Recovery: So that if they had stayed any considerable time, she could not have maintained that sorrowful Countenance with which she at first received 'em, to the end of the Chapter: And, if she had not; 'twould directly have crossed Bellamant's design of having his Death believed in France, as well as here: To which end, he writ to her to put on Mourning, and all outward show of Grief, for the loss of an only Brother: And withal, advised her, to make what convenient haste she could to England; all which she most punctually observed: As Henrietta did her Brother Worthygrace's here; who, in less than a weeks time, had so well founded the depths of Philandra's Heart; that she perceived, Philandra was clearly for rewarding the survivor in the Duel; had there been any, as she supposed there was not; with the enjoyment of her Person and Estate. Upon which, to make a sure bargain for her Brother, not knowing that his Heart was now otherwise engaged, she made an ouvert Relation to Philandra, of the whole Business; not so much as concealing her own Sex. How, (cried Philandra, in a transport of joy, not to be equalled or Counterfeited but by herself.) Does that great and Generous Soul still inform and Actuate the Body of your dear Brother and my Lover!— And, are you not Horatio? who are you then? I am called Henrietta, Madam (replied she) only Sister to Worthygrace; who is now in France, waiting till the Tide of State turn; or to procure his pardon: which (alas!) I think, is not in humane prospect. O! might I but see him once more  I died (said Philandra) if seeing him must be All, I then should go contented to my Grave. That's as your Love or Interest shall instruct you, Madam, (replied Henrietta) but I rather hope you'll consult the first only. But (possibly) he has forgot me now: Or, which is worse, may have another Mistress. I doubt not, Madam, (replied Henrietta) to satisfy you of the contrary within these few weeks; and to show you his most grateful acknowledgements, under his own hand and seal, of so great and unexpected a favour as you have promised. In the mean time, I beg your Ladyship will still receive me as my Brother Horatio, the better to continue the opinion of his Death. That, Madam (returned Philandra) is but necessary to his greater security.  
As they were thus concluding on matters between 'em, Sir Blunder Slouch led in the feigned Arabella to 'em: Whom assoon as Philandra saw, she whispered to Henrietta, This is the Lady Arabella, Sister to the Lord Bellamant. Be cautious in your Discourse! She then received and embraced the P●●…oated Lord, with a great deal of respect and tenderness: Who returned her Compliments and Caresses with equal Ceremony and Ardour. Telling her, he was now come to be happy for a week or more in her admired Company. The two Contrefeits then saluted each other; after which Philandra told the feigned Arabella, that it was Horatio younger Brother to Worthygrace, whom then she saw: And begged, that the fatal effects of their Brother's Gallantry might not give them any resentments against each other. Upon which they renewed their Compliments; ending with a Generous Compassion of each others loss in two such brave Men and so near Relations. Then they dined together; at that time entertaining themselves at Sir Blunder's cost; that was in their Raillery on him: which (perhaps) he would have bought off at the price of half a score Dinners. But however Bellamant appeared pleasant in Discourse, his thoughts were very troublesome; he never took his Eyes from Horatio's Face, unless when they encountered his: and then, with a Woman's Modesty, he would let fall his, and (it may be) with a blush, which t'other could not avoid taking notice of to herself. Now it was not Love bat Jealousy that fixed Bellamant's Eyes on Horatio, imagining, that the younger Brother was now come to Rival him in Philandra: yet he rather desired that she might mistake his Glances for those of Love; which luckily for him she did. After a modest Grace- cup, they fell into Cabals, Arabella and Philandra, Horatio and Sir Blunder, Arabella's Gentlewoman and Horatio's Companion, entertaining each other in Pairs. When Bellamant, to try if he had any reasonable grounds for his Jealousy, entered on a design the most odd and least practicable that, perhaps, you have heard of: for, mistaking Henrietta for her younger Brother, he took occasion to speak so obligingly of the pretended Horatio's Person, Mien, and Conversation, to Philandra, that she could not doubt, that it proceeded from the immediate Passion of Love. And, to speak justly of her, though Henrietta had different Charms in her Face, Person, and in all her Actions, yet she had as many and as great as Philandra or the real Arabella. Madam, (said Philandra to Bellamant,) Your Ladyship speaks so sensibly of this Gentleman's Perfections, that I have some reason to believe you could love him most passionately. Possibly, Madam, returned he, if there were any prospect of his kind return to such thoughts as you seem to entertain; & that it were not to invade your just Prerogative of Empire over the Hearts of all the desertful Men, I should not blush to own, that I have no common Respect for a Person of his Merits. 'Tis enough, replied Philandra, I humbly thank your Honour, Madam, for so free a Confession: And shall esteem myself infinitely happy, if your Ladyship will use me as an Instrument in the uniting too such generous Hearts. Be confident of me, I beseech your Ladyship, continued she, and be easy, for I will so manage this Affair, that he shall make his Addresses to your Ladyship. I perceived and understood the Discourses of your Eyes on either side, whilst at Dinner. Let not my Modesty suffer, I conjure you, Madam, said the feigned Arabella, for I had rather die in Despair. Trust my Conduct, Madam, returned Philandra, it shall not cost you a Blush more, than what the Discourse of his Passion may occasion. While the Lord Bellamant was thus pretending a Passion for Horatio, the young counterfeit Spark's Eyes did often meet Bellamants; which he observed well enough. And at the same time was that beautiful Youth speaking very advantageously, but justly too, of the feigned Arabella's Excellencies to Sir Blunder Slouch; who, though he was no great Artist in Love, yet imagined that the Youngster had a Month's Mind to a Person of Honour; which, at the first opportunity he had, though desired to keep it secret, according to the invincible Treachery of his Nature, he discovered to Philandra: And she, after she had paid her earliest Devoirs to the supposed Arabella, whom she left in Bed, went directly to Henrietta's Apartment, and charged her with what she had learned from Sir Blunder Slouch. She could not but admire the Secrecy and Integrity of that Knight; nor did she deny, that she had said all she could think in praise of that beauteous Creature. And all, dear Madam, cried she, comes short of her Merits. Indeed I have a just reason to thank Heaven that she is not a Man. This is as I would have it, said Philandra, for she is passionately in love with you: and I must see your Hearts and Hands united in the Holy Bands of Matrimony, (an't shall please you, Sir.) Why, you rave Philandra, said she, Do you know who, and what I am? Yes, you are the Charming Henrietta, replied Philandra, Sister to my dear Worthygrace, and Womankind. And, interrupted Henrietta, would you have the seeming Brother of Worthygrace marry with the Lord Bellamant's real Sister? Why, there's the jest and the earnest on't; replied Philandra, for it will give the better countenance to the Report of your Brother's Death. But, consider, I remind you, said Henrietta, that I am mere Womankind. I do so; replied Philandra, and there will be the pleasure on't, to see how she will bear the loss of her Expectation in you. Ah, cried Henrietta, but, by your Pardon, Madam, (methinks) that would be somewhat barbarous, and a great Indignity to a Person of her Quality. Barbarous! said Philandra, not at all, Child: For, being both of one Sex, the Marriage is void of course. And as for the Indignity, in my Opinion, 'tis none: 'twill only be looked on as a Condescension in you to pleasure her: Besides, we'll find out some Trick or other to part you, without discovering your Sex to her. Come, come, (pursued she) it must be done; I am resolved on't. Well, dear Madam, (returned Henrietta) to pleasure you, but (let me own it, with Pardon) more particularly to serve my Brother, I will begin the Courtship to the Lady Arabella. This was agreed, and proceeded on that very day: and the fair Counterfeit found he should have no hard Siege of his beautiful Mistress' Heart. I think at the third Approach he made towards it, she began a Parley; at the end of which she surrendered on Discretion. Married than they were, but very privately, and with no Solemnity or Mirth more than usual, unless it were the addition of two or three Country-Fidles, and the pleasure of seeing Sir Blunder very bestially Drunk. At night Arabella was put to Bed, trembling for fear of a Discovery of his Sex; being partly undressed by Philandra's fair Hands. You may imagine what a fine condition she was in, when Philandra came to finger her Neck, near the place of her No-bubbies: 'twas then she was forced to pretend she was ready to swoon away, with a faint and almost dying Voice, begging Philandra and the rest of the Females, to give her leave to put herself to Bed; which, with some difficulty, they permitted her: where she laid herself down close to the Bedpost; a very hopeful Bride. But the Bridegroom scaped better, for there was no man to undress him, but Sir Blunder, who had drunk himself out of that Office. The Bridegroom no sooner came into Bed, but as Philandra had instructed him, he took the Bride about the neck, and, (as it were) forced a kiss, and then the Company left 'em to themselves, for that night; and each mistaking the others Sex; after some comical reflections to themselves, on their odd and hasty Marriage, fell fast asleep. Bellamant with the pleasure to think that he had now defeated Philandra of a second Lover; and Henrietta with the satisfaction that this Gordian knot might be untied when ever she pleased.  
Between Seven and Eight the next morning, the fair Bridegroom asked his Bride how she had slept that night? To which she replied, very well, and quietly, I thank you, Sir; he wished her then a good morrow, which she returned to him; and not long after he risen, leaving the Bride the opportunity of dressing herself; which I can assure you was then very obliging. About half an hour after came in the fulsome mess of Cawdles, with Potions of Tent, and Malaga; which, whether she tasted or no, I was not curious to inquire. After Dinner they took Coach, as they had contrived with Philandra; and seemed to drive for London, taking their leave of Sir Blunder, who in less than an hour went directly for the Town, while they returned a contrary way to Philandra. This was done to prevent the trouble of so many visits from all their friends and acquaintance that were known to Sir Blunder, whom they were sure he would otherwise have sent. At Philandra's then they passed two nights more, almost in the state of innocence; only Bellamant would be now and then reflecting on the mess of bawdry that Philandra, and the other Women-Creatures entertained him with, after the Sack posset, while they were undressing him on the Wedding-Night; mistaking him for the true Arabella; which did sometimes but too well remind him of his Sex. And doubtless had he known what excellent matter to work upon he had lying by him, all those three nights, he would have gone near to have discovered, and so perhaps to have lost himself in search of such treasures. The third morning when the Beautiful young Bridegroom was taking a walk about the grounds, Philandra came to pay her respects to the Bride; just as by good fortune she was dressed, and no body with her, but her Page in Woman's , who passed for her she Attendant. Philandra seemed to desire some private Conference with her, on which, the Attendant withdrew. Madam, said Philandra, your Ladyship puts me quite out of conceit with marriage; for I have observed, that ever since you have been more than usually melancholy. I beg your Honour therefore to let me know what it is that dislikes you in this State, and what you find more than heretofore pleasant, if any such thing there be. Ah, Philandra, replied the supposed Arabella, I can easily say what dislikes me. I have sold my Liberty, Philandra, and to one, who I fear, had before engaged his heart to another. He's Young, and Beautiful, 'tis true, and that he is a Man I cannot doubt, by outward appearance; but— I have heretofore dreamed of— I know not what— Joys, that we married folks should be fed with, till we even surfeited of 'em; but I find he has no other in store for me, than a good morrow, or good night. Or an insipid out ' o bed breakfast of Cawdles, and Sack, interrupted Philandra. Ay, Philandra, replied Arabella, this is all the pleasure I find in it. Poor Lady, cried Philandra, this is a heavy doleful Tale— Good Heaven guard me from such a fool of a Husband. Why, pray, Madam, asked the ignorant Bride, what more would you expect from your Husband? Poor Dear Soul, returned Philandra, what more? why— At least a thousand kisses every day, and one continued Embrace every night; or so many so suddenly repeated, that they should seem but one. Alas, Madam, returned the Bride, this were enough to make any Man's arms, back, and heart ache; besides, I should fear he would stifle us both. Not to consider the loss of sleep, which would discompose and unfit us for the next day's Conversation. Sleep, Conversation, interrupted t'other; why, my Dear, sleep aught to be banished, at least, all the first month, unless, from five or six in the morning, till eleven or twelve at noon. And no conversation ought in reason or modesty to be expected by any of their Friends or Acquaintance, but just in a morning's visit, or at Dinner, and Supper; the rest of the day ought to be sacred to Love, and the Happy Pair in Lonely Retreats, Pleasant Gardens, Cool Grottoes, and Shady Groves. Bless me, Madam, cried Arabella, what a Hercules of a Husband must yours be? Nay, Madam, pardon me, said Philandra, I do not mean that only such a one would satisfy me, but I suppose this the Spark's duty for the whole honeymoon. I wonder, Madam, said the Bride, what you would do then, if you had such a quiet Spark as mine, who never so much as touches me, nor speaks after the first good night, till the next morning. Why, truly Madam, replied Philandra, to be ingenuous to you, I should seek my satisfaction elsewhere. O fie, returned Arabella, I warrant you would not commit that Sin for the Universe. No, Madam, answered t'other, 'tis my dull niggardly Husband that starves me at home, who commits the Sin, in forcing me to seek out for my own sustenance. Alas, Madam, continued she, the thing is nothing in itself, but pleasure; the Crime lies in being detected of it. This indeed, Madam, returned Arabella, is to me a new sort of Doctrine; but I find it very reasonable; how wholesome it may prove, I am yet to learn. As your food, I'll warrant it, replied another's, and as necessary; and I hope you will put it in practice with the first opportunity. I can't promise you that, returned Arabella, till I have thought further on't.  
Immediately at the end of this discourse the Bridegroom entered; who told Arabella that he desired to wait on her to her own Lodgings in Town, that Afternoon, because he expected a near Kinsman of his, a young Gentleman of about Eighteen, who came from Yorkshire almost on purpose to visit him. And since her Ladyship's Lodgings in Soho-Square, he believed were most convenient, he would leave word at his own Lodgings, where his Cousin Winlove, for so was he called, might find him. I'm all obedience to your pleasure, Sir, (replied Arabella.) After which, they only stayed dinner with Philandra, for the Coach was made ready before: and when Philandra had obliged herself to visit 'em as soon, and often as 'twas possible, they hurried away to Arabella's Lodgings in Town, where he left her, and went to his own, whence he returned, with some uneasiness, enough observable in his face, and haste. Madam, said he, I must beg your Ladyship's pardon, that I am constrained to leave you for some few days. I have just now received a Letter left at my Lodgings these three days, that calls me immediately into Yorkshire, where my presence is absolutely necessary, to settle some part of my Estate. I do assure your Ladyship I will be as expeditious in the dispatch of my Affairs as may be, that I may return the sooner, to the greatest happiness I have on Earth, your Ladyship— But— I had almost forgot to beg your Ladyship would receive my Kinsman with the same kindness and familiarity you would entertain me; deny him nothing, to express the welcome of him— For, give me leave to say, Madam, tho' he is my near Relation, he is a very worthy, and finely accomplished Gentleman, and indeed extremely Beautiful; and were his hair fair, as it is exceeding black, you would easily mistake him for Philandra, in Man's .— Once more, pray be kind to him, Madam— With this kiss I seal, and deliver thee to the care of Heaven— Farewell, my Soul, added he, going out. Heaven keep you, Sir, said she, pray hasten your return— Ha! (cried Bellamant to himself) no longer Arabella, when alone. Must I receive his Kinsman with the same kindness and familiarity that I would entertain him? and deny him nothing— I begin to have 'em in the wind— This is pursuant of that excellent Doctrine I heard preached to day, by my most Learned Mistress in the Art of Love, Philandra; whom this Relation of his so nearly resembles; that were it Fair, as it is Black, I could not easily mistake it for Philandra in Man's — I'll put all this together; and, let me see, what does it spell?— Contrivance. Ay, that's it. Now is this little fair Devil grown malicious; and in revenge, that I have robbed her of the younger Brother, comes to tempt my Virtue, and Debauch me, if possible, (which was well put in) in the habit of a fine Spark, and then to betray me to Horatio, mistaking me still for my Sister. And I must needs own, that I fear I am not Temptation-proof. No, no, 'tis certain I am not. Alas, alas, what will become of me then?— Why, I may thank my Petticoats for all the lewdness that is like to ensue— Oh, Petticoat, Petticoat, how attractive thou art of all Vices?— Why, faith now, he was much in the right on't; only in this he mistook, that it was Philandra's Revenge. For, the Design was to take the supposed Arabella in Bed with the pretended Winlove, to give the feigned Horatio a seeming just occasion of parting with her. Bellamant was ravished with the design which he perceived Philandra had of ruining herself; and with impatience expected when she would begin it. However, he spent that night very pleasantly, with his two Friends, who carried him out of the fatal Field, over a Bottle or Two. And the next day, about Eleven, one of her Servants, for now 'tis Arabella again; came to acquaint her, that one Mr. Winlove enquired for his Master; upon which, she sent the Servant to wait on him in, and came down stairs her self to receive him. The treachery there began with a kiss too— Then after having enquired of his Cousin's health, and when she expected his return? And having highly, tho' not sufficiently complemented her Beauty, (at which he seemed as much astonished as she was, at the strange alteration the change of habit, and other disguises had made of the Person of Philandra, who had on a Black Peruke, had blacked her eyebrows, and eyelids, and had left a kind of shadow on her upper Lip, as if she had been newly shaved) Winlove was for taking his leave, which by no means his Lady Cousin would permit; (designing a happier Night than ordinary) and in short, prevailed with him to stay Dinner; when he fell afresh into large Encomiums of her Beauty; sighing, to think that his Cousin was, and must be the only happy man in the World, in the enjoyment of such Perfections as her Ladyships, of which, he was Eternally to be debarred. She told him, she believed it was in his power to make himself as happy as his Cousin. Winlove was a little surprised at that answer of hers; yet taking Courage, threw at all; approachng her more closely, and kissing her, till her Face was all Fever, and her Eyes were all Flame Then, by a seeming force she got from him, and withdrew into the next room. I see, said Philandra to herself, my Documents have pretty well taken root in her, she warms apace, I must not let her Cool. Saying so, he pursued her into the next Room, where he would have renewed his Caresses. But she in a languishing tone, and hiding her face, told him, that tho' her Husband had desired her to deny him nothing; as indeed she could not deny him any thing; yet she begged she might have a little respite to bethink herself what she was going to do. Nay, Madam, (returned he) that's the way to ruin my Hopes: However, we'll Sup together if you please; and so contrive matters that no notice may be taken of the Happiness which I hope your Ladyship designs me afterwards. They did so, and things were ordered accordingly; that is, he was put to Bed in the next Room on the same Floor to her: And Arabella's Page in Woman's  double-locked the Door upon him: About an hour after Arabella unlocked it, thinking every Moment a Month till the House were silent; so near did Bellamant apprehend his Happiness; which he would not ha' let slip that Night for all hi● Estate, I fancy. But we must yet suppose him Arabella a little while, and Philandra Winelove: No sooner then had Arabella got into Bed, than Winelove was in her Chamber, and had locked the Door; and you may believe did not stand long on the cold Floor. Madam, (said he, turning to her,) this Night were worth Immortality, had I not drank too much at Supper: but the Morning shall pay us the Arrears of the present.— How, Sir! (cried she) and do you too deceive my Expectation?— Nay, then, I'm sure my Husband and you are of the same Family, and too nearly related. Why, ay, Madam, (returned Winlove,) this Conscience makes Cowards, and Fools Eunuches: Or Women of you, (interrupted Arabella,) I'm resolved I will know if y'are a Man; (pursued she, embracing her very strictly.) O, Philandra, (cried he, speaking in a more Masculine Tone,) 'tis now my turn to play the Man, and revenge myself upon you for all my Sufferings, that yet were not worth this ravishing kill Moment, which sure I can't outlive!— Then could not he speak one word more for a whole moment or two: After he called her Philandra, the poor Soul was so amazed, or overjoyed, that she did not, or (may be) could not or would not speak one word; till at last he had just liberty to say, Now, Madam, you shall find that neither Night nor Morning shall be indebted to me. At which, she cried out, O Heavens! my Lord, are you then resolved to ruin me?— And now, both were Tongue-tied again: About 4 a clock in the morning, Philandra, with a thousand Kisses and tender Embraces, and with Tears in her Eyes, said to him, Tho', my Lord, you have now by my own foolish Intriguing, rifled me of the greatest Treasure, my Honour, and grasped all those Joys at once, for which you strove so long, so often, and so fatally: You will not leave me thus naked, and spoiled of all that is valuable. May not I hope, that you will restore what you have taken from me, my Honour? I now beg it of you as an Act of Humanity, and becoming your accustomed Generosity and Goodness. Will you not marry me, my Lord? Can you doubt it, Madam? replied he, by way of Interrogation. Let me first be clear of the Death of that brave Man; and then, my Life, we'll be as Happy as 'tis possible. She than proceeded to ask his Pardon, that she had designed to betray Arabella to Horatio, who would have taken that occasion to part with her, still supposing him to be Arabella. And added, that Horatio would be there at five that Morning, or soon after. Bellamant smiled, and told her, he was more obliged to them for their Plot, than he was to his Ancestors for his Honour and Estate: And, after he had taken a fair Leave of her, she returned to Bed in the next Room, from the place of Execution; without discovering the pretended Horatio's Sex, lest he should forsake her, and marry Henrietta, whose Charms she was but too well acquainted with for her ease. Nor would she rid Bellamant of his troublesome Apprehensions for the supposed Death of Worthygrace, till she had secured him to herself by Marriage.  
Between five and six that morning Horatio came to his Lady's Lodgings, as was expected; and went directly up Stairs to her Bedchamber, which he entered very softly, and found her fast asleep, and all alone; for the Key was left designedly on the out side. He did not desire to wake her by any means, and therefore retreated as silently as he entered, locking the Door after him. Thence he came to the next Room, where Winlove lay, the Door of which he found double locked, and the Key without, which he turned, and stole in with the least noise imaginable: coming to the Bedside, he found her in a dead Sleep too; and being unwilling to disturb her, was returning down Stairs; and going to lock the Door, made so much noise as wakened her. Who's there? (asked Philandra.) Softly, softly, (returned Horatio, creeping towards her,)— Will you rise? I will just now, (replied she,) getting up, and dressing So together they went to the Park, where they took a round or two, till 'twas about eight a clock. Thence they went to a Coffee-house, where they drunk three or four Dishes of Chocolet apiece: then they adjourned to Locket's, where whilst their little Breakfast or Dinner was preparing, Henrietta began to ask Questions, more to satisfy her own Curiosity, than to keep t'other awake, though it were very necessary to talk to her lest she should ha' slept: Prithee, (said she) and without any Preface, let me know the success of last Night's Advenventure; Is she obstinately Virtuous, or are there any hopes of our Parting? Ah! no; (replied Philandra,) she's  as Ice, and true to your Bed as the Loadstone to its Point. 'Tis true, (pursued she) after a whole Day's Courtship, I at last prevailed; and, as I thought, had reached my end; for I lay with her in her own Bed, from eleven to four; But— Nay, that's enough; (interrupted Henrietta.) Hold▪ pray hear me out; (cried t'other,) I had no sooner taken her in my Arms, than she sighed and wept, and cried, Ah me! what do you mean Philandra? you can't carry the Cheat on in Bed I'm sure. Heaven, (said I, in my thoughts) would thou wouldst make me a Man this moment! This I wished, that I might ha' served thee, my dear Henrietta. And pleasure yourself, Madam, (returned Henrietta.) But (it seems) she knew you then? Ay, ay, knew me, as I am; knew me Philandra: knew me to be Womankind, or I dare engage I had ne'er come so near her. But (O!) when I first embraced the poor dear Creature, how it did tremble! how short it drew its breath! and the poor Heart of it did beat so very fast and loud, that though the Alarm of my Watch beat that very moment, I yet could hear the Motion of its Heart distinctly above tother. Ay! (said Henrietta) that's odd and strange: Prithee, what should cause it? Surprise, I imagine (replied Philandra) to find me play my part so vigorously and so much to the life. But (asked Henrietta) since she knew you to be Philandra, what occasioned you to leave her Bed before I came? O, Madam, (replied t'other) that was to blind your ladyship's Attendants, who saw me go to Bed in the Room where you found me; who would have thought it very impudent in her to find she had received a young Spark to her Bed; for which she mistook me. I can but smile (said Henrietta) to think, how finely you had been served, if instead of the Sister you had met the Brother there. To answer you wantonly to your Supposition, (returned Philandra) I must tell you, had my Lord been living, and there, he would ha' done me Knight's Service. But, after all this, (said Henrietta) I cannot any longer personate her Bridegroom, especially in Bed. You need not, (replied Philandra) do you continue at my House, and I will keep her in her Lodgings, for I have engaged to wait on her every other day till you return; which you may defer this month, if you please. It must be so, (replied Henrietta.) The Table was then covered, and immediately after two or three Dishes were served in, which were instead of a Dinner: By the strength of which they ventured to travel seven or eight Miles from the Town in their own easy Coach. Mean while Arabella, as soon as her Ladyship was dressed, sent for her two Friends to take a Dinner and a Bottle with her; who came precisely at the hour: so to dinner they went, and her Ladyship eat and drank, as if she had been already quick with three Children, and were to feed Them and herself: for (to say truth) she had taken a great deal of pains. That day and night he enjoyed himself with his drinking Friends; but the next was Loves and Philandra's. A very pretty course of life this Loving and Drinking is, in my Opinion; which he continued for above a Fortnight; consecrating one day and night to his Mistress, and the next to his Friends and the merry Bottle.  
Worthygrace in the mean time had made very considerable Advances in the Esteem of the real Arabella; he found her inclinable enough to favour his Suit: The only Obstacle she pretended, was, That she would see her Brother's Death revenged e'er she could be perfectly Happy in any State: And in order to that, she told them, she would leave France in three or four days. To which he returned, That he would certainly leave it at the same time; since, when she was gone, he had no longer any business or pleasure there. And besides, did solemnly oblige himself to show her the Unhappy Man who killed her Brother, and to help her in her Revenge upon him. This Overture of his seemed to affect her very much: And she consented he should accompany her to England; which he did, after they had recommended all their Friends there to Heaven's Protection. And on that very day they left Paris there came a Letter from Henrietta, with an account of all her Transactions, since she had taken upon her the Person of her younger Brother: but he did not receive this, till he had been near a Fortnight here. As soon as they set foot on English ground, they made all possible haste to Town; and happened to come to Bellamant's Lodgings that same day on which Philandra came to visit him in her own wont Habit. 'Twas about three a clock in the Afternoon, when Arabella whispering Bellamant's Petticoated Page in the Ear, asked, if his Lord were within; who replied Yes, Madam; and knowing her very well, ran to acquaint Bellamant, who was somewhat busy with Philandra, that a Gentleman and a Lady desired to speak with her Ladyship. He would not tell his supposed Lady, that 'twas Arabella, lest Philandra should apprehend that he knew 'twas Bellamant whom he had seen in Bed with her more than once. Show 'em into the Parlour, (said Bellamant) I'll wait on 'em instantly. I can't imagine who they should be, (added he, to Philandra.) The Page led 'em into the Parlour, and left 'em together. Now, Madam, said Worthygrace, I do keep the promise I made to your Ladyship, for you see in me the unhappy man that killed my Lord, your Brother; and I beseech you prosecute me with all the rigour of the Law, that I may not live in despair. 'Tis hard, Sir, returned she, I see your Love, and our unequal misfortunes, but here comes one that may put an end to 'em, I hope. At that word, Bellamant, and Philandra entered.— All of 'em at the sight of each other, stood fixed, and looked like their own Monuments. Bellamant having a presence of mind above the rest, was the first that broke the Charm; who, crying out, O my Lord, and dear Brother, are you yet among the Living? ran to Arabella, and embracing and kissing her cheeks, whispered to her at the same time, that she should own herself Bellamant. My dear Arabella, said his Sister, embracing him again, how happy am I to see thee once more. Ah, Philandra, pursued she, I hope you will at last put an end to our dispute, in your choice of one of us; at which, Philandra blushed, and wept. Nay, my Lord, returned Worthygrace, I am otherwise engaged, you may believe; for tho' I have hitherto mistaken your Lordship for the Lady your Sister, I must continue my address to her; and I hope your Lordship is sensible that my passion is real. Ay, Sir, replied Arabella, still personating her Brother; my Sister has the misfortune to be very like me, and I doubt not that your passion designed for her is real; Sister (continued she) let me commend this Gentleman to your dearest thoughts. Saying so, she joined their hands. Do you consent to make me happy, Madam? (said Worthygrace, to his Rival that was) I can't do better Sir, than to follow the advice of my honoured Brother, said Bellamant. Well, Sister, returned Arabella, for your kind complaisance, I will add 5000 l. to your Fortune, and make it up Thirty Thousand pounds. Your Lordship ever was my most obliging and affectionate Brother (replied Bellamant.) Philandra all this while did not know how to behave herself; sometimes she was ready to burst with envy, to see Worthygrace forsake her, for Arabella; and sometimes with laughter, to see how neatly the Brother and Sister played a contrary part. At last she broke silence, and said, I am happy beyond Expectation, Hope, or Wish, my Lord, to see your Lordship, and this Honourable Gentleman living, and so happily united. They both Saluted, and thanked her. I dare say my Lord, said Bellamant to Arabella, your Lordship is horribly ashamed, and weary of your Petticoats. You may be confident of it, replied she. To morrow your Lordship will appear like yourself, I hope, returned Bellamant. I wish my Lord, said Worthygraee to Arabella, that your Lordship had so appeared in Paris. But then I suppose you had lost all the divertée your Lordship has had with my passion, mistaking you for the Lady your Sister. Ay, Sir, returned Arabella, you have spoken my thoughts. Sir, said Philandra to Worthygrace, I believe there is an acquaintance of yours at my Countryhouse, whom I will wait on hither to morrow.— Mean while, pursued she, to Arabella, my Lord, I humbly take my leave. I am your Ladyship's Servant, added she to Bellamant, Mr. Worthygrace, your Servant. They all waited on her to her Coach, and Worthygrace would needs attend her home, that she might not be alone, and that he might the sooner see his Sister. Henrietta expressed a great deal of satisfaction at the sight of her Brother, after so long an absence; nor was he behind hand in his expressions of joy at the sight of her; Philandra only was disconsolate, who found she should die an Unmarried Widow, unless she took up with Sir Blunder Slouch, or some such Booby of a Hushand.  
When Bellamant and his Sister were alone, she would fain ha' known why he had obliged her to personate him? Who replied, there are reasons of State, Child, too dark for thee to pry into. Now it was only generously to preserve Philandra's Reputation unsuspected. Next morning Bellamant was dressed like himself, and Arabella was as Glorious as her best habiliments could make her; and about Ten a Clock Worthygrace, Henrietta, Philandra, and Sir Blunder Slouch, who went to visit Philandra the day before, came to Congratulate his Lordship's return to the Land of the Living, as he had welcomed Worthygrace to life again. To this end came Henrietta, no longer now in Man's Apparel. When the Compliments on all sides were over, Worthygrace led his Sister to Arabella, to beg her pardon, that she had thus long abused her with the appearance of a Man. How, cried Bellamant, is this the Beautiful Counterfeit that I have heard my Sister speak of? It is then in her power to make me the most happy of all Mankind, in receiving an heart that was made for her to command. In which I beg your assistance, Sir, added he to Worthygrace; who replied, that he was assured his Sister would be advised by him in any thing, especially in what would for ever complete her happiness on Earth; which she confirmed. Replying, I am all obedience, Sir, you are now both Father and Brother to me. Worthygrace then presented her hand to Bellamant, who received it with the greatest demonstrations of satisfaction and joy. Now, Madam, said he to Philandra, we have made your choice easy to you; for you can now be cruel to neither of us. I only beg you will not be cruel to Sir Blunder, who has been your old and faithful Servant. I think indeed he was bound before me, and has served out his whole Apprenticeship of Seven Years; pray Madam make him free at last, we all make it our Petition to you (said Worthygrace and the Ladies.) I hope, Madam Philandra, (cried Sir Blunder) you will at last take pity upon me. Ay, Knight (returned she) But— 'Tis for my own sake, you may be confident. I am resolved I will not be singular, among so many Worthy and Honourable Friends. But first I beg one word with your Lordship (added she to Bellamant) who approached her very humbly and respectfully, bowing down his head to receive her whisper— Are not you a False man? (said she) Ay, Madam (replied he) but that is because you are a True Woman.— And let me remind you, that you have had the pleasure to make a Whore of me, and a Cuckold of my Wife. Besides, I have taken care that your reputation shall not suffer by me— Alas (Madam pursued he aloud) what needed this have been whispered?— She says Sir Blunder, she will not be debarred the gaiety of her humour, nor be confined to your damned Conventicles, nor smoky City. And truly I think it is but reasonable she should not. In good faith (replied Sir Blunder) she shall have Liberty of Conscience, if she'll have me: Upon that, Bellamant gave him her hand; and Sir Blunder was the happy Man that got the City-Fortune; who indeed I think was fit for no man else. My Lord (said Worthygrace) I will follow your generous Example, and add Ten Thousand Pounds to my Sister's Portion, to make it Thirty Thousand Pounds. And now I beseech your Lordship (pursued he) to prefix the day that shall make us all happy. By this day fortnight (returned Bellamant) we may be prepared for the mighty Blessing. This day fortnight (cried Philandra) I'll not stay an hour, but will have the honour to set you the Glorious Example. There is a Domine hard by I warrant you, that will oblige me so far. He was immediately sent for, and they were both Executed at one blow. This day (said she) I challenge as mine; you are all my Guests, and I have already ordered a Dinner at my Country Farm, whither you all must go. Upon this, they instantly took their Coaches, and drove for the Lady Slouche's; who, as I have heard, about Eight Months after, was fain to be brought to Bed; before the Child could be Born, which was very like the Father: The Lord Bellamant was Godfather; as any Spark or Beau may be to the next, if he knows where to find her.  
FINIS.