THE VILLAIN, A TRAGEDY Written by T. PORTER Esq; Foelix et prosperum Scelus Virtus vocatur.  
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman at the Anchor in the New Exchange, and Samuel Speed at the Rainbow in Fleetstreet. 1663.   

THE PROLOGUE.  
AS I appear, (methinks) I hear some say,  
O, this is He that must excuse the Play!  
They better guess than those who think I'm sent  
To dare the Censures of th' Impertinent;  
Such a Poetic Choler would appear  
Just like that Courage which is raised by Fear.  
But (Gentlemen) in troth I'm only come  
To tell ye that the Author is gone home,  
To 〈◊〉 your Doom, like some poor Cozened Wench  
That has not Confidence t' outface the Bench.  
We were such Fools as to persuade his Stay,  
But (smiling at us) He made haste away,  
And said ye could not so much honour lack,  
As to speak ill of him behind his back.   

SCENE, TOURS.  

Clairmont The General.  
La Bar Gentleman of his Horse.  
Dorvile Governor of the Town.  
Brisac A young Colonel.  
Beaupre His Friend.  
Maligni His Major and a Villain.  
Bouteseu Delpeche Lamarch Officers in Brisac's Regiment.  
Colignij An Impertinent young Scrivener.  
Cortaux His Father.  
Behnont Sister to Brisac.  
Charlotte Daughter to Dorvile.  
Mariane Trancibell Sisters to Colignij.  
Luyson A waiting woman to Bellemont.  
Surgeon, etc.   

Host  
Wife  
Friar    

THE VILLAIN.  

ACT 1. SCENE 2.  Enter D'orvile, Brisac, Beaupre. D'or. 
YOu have obliged me, Sir, in your last grant.  Bris. 
It still has been my study how to serve  
A man of honour. This is no such favour.  D'or. 
Pardon me, Sir, I do esteem it highly,  
And do once more assure you, that your men▪  
Shall find the Welcome that the Town affords;  
You freely should command all that is here,  
From the sole Merit you yourself possess,  
Which with an Obligation I've received  
Lately, and in the person of my Friend,  
Does doubly claim performance of my Promise.  Bris. 
Enough, good Sir:  
You make me blush, I have not yet deserved  
The Honour that you now enrich me with.  D'or. 
I have done, Sir.  
An Officer of yours?  Turns to Beaupre and salutes him. Bris. 
He is my friend, and in that Office bears  
Command o'er all that e'er I shall call mine.  Beau. 
One that is proud to wait upon his worth,  
And take the Copy of a gallant man  
From his ripe Youth.  D'or. 
Believe me, Sir, your person does bespeak  
An expectation in all those that see you,  
Of what is Great and Generous in a Man.  Bris. 
You 've read him right.  D'or. 
I cannot doubt it, Sir:  
For Friendship in young men breeds a delight  
In doing great and worthy things, whereby  
They may tie fast the bond of Friendship sworn.  
That Prince is happy who in's Army has  
Such Rivals unto Virtue and to Honour;  
And yet rejoice when either courts them well.  Beau. 
Your praise will make me study to deserve it.  Enter Malignii. Bris. 
Well, Major, have you yer disposed the men?  Mal. 
They are all Billeted, saving some few  
That were designed unto the place you mentioned.  Bris. 
Make up their Quarters out of those same Blanks  
My servants drew, and yours, my dearest Friend,  
May serve for six, I know you will not leave me.  D'or. 
Leave that to me; the favour's very great:  
You have removed the trouble from the place  
That calls my Friend its Landlord.  Bris. 
But not with an intention, 't should be put  
Upon your care.  
There's room enough, he knows how to dispose them.  D'or. 
I must submit: but please you all to grace  
My house and me; and if it do not speak  
So large a welcome as my heart does mean,  
Blame my poor power, not my want to will.  Bris. 
Please you to lead the way, we'll follow.  D'or. 
I'm proud to be your guide in this occasion. Stops him as he's going.  Mal. 
Sir, I would speak with you.  Bris. 
Prithee, Beaupre, go you along,  
Tell him he shall not long expect our coming.  
Now, Major, speak your business.  [Exit Beaupre. Mal. 
Have you designed your Sister should come here,  
And stay this Winter-Quarter 'mongst your Troops?  Bris. 
You know I have: But prithee why dost ask?  
Dost think that Tours is like unto the Camp?  Mal. 
No, but—  Bris. 
But what? are there not hundreds more  
Of the same Quality that reside here?  
My house not fifteen Leagues from hence,  
Why should I bar her being here this winter?  
'Twas but a year ago you wondered much  
I would confine her to a Country life,  
And said, her breeding was not like my Sister's,  
Though she did want no Masters could enrich  
Her mind and carriage; yet than you thought fit  
She should see Paris and its Bravery.  Mal. 
I hope my care does give you no offence?  Bris. 
No, Honest Malignii, I know you've been  
My friend since I writ Man: do but speak  
To show the error of your friendly Doubts.  Mal. 
I'm glad you so interpret them.  Bris. 
I know they are:  
Dost think our Regiment a sweeping plague,  
That does infect whole Towns it quarters in▪  
Or that it breathes the air of Vice on all  
The Virgins live in the same Horizon?  
Ha, ha, ha!  
I know they're Blades, but yet I think they'll scarce  
Presume to venture on my Sister.  Mal. 
Fie, Sir, I never thought on that.  Bris. 
What then? I cannot guests your meaning.  Mal. 
Nor I, till time (which ripens all) disclose it.  Bris. 
Well then let's wait that time:  
But now it is decreed she comes,  
Beaupre to morrow goes to fetch her hither.  Mal. 
'Tis wondrous well and fine.  Bris. 
What is?  Mal. 
This Town.  Bris. 
ay, is it not a lovely seat?  
But this same River Loire is blessed along  
Its bank's with several of such City's.  
Come, come, the Governor will stay for us.  Malig. 
I'll wait upon you Sir.  [Exeunt. Enter Colignii and Cortaux. Cort. 
I hope thou wilt.  
There is a Captain quarters at my house,  
Be sure you bid your Sisters treat him well;  
But hark you Sir; I'd have you watch their Waters,  
These men of war will straightways clap a-Board.  Colig. 
I'll warrant you Father, let me alone.  Cor. 
But you must still be civil, and give way,  
When th' other Officers do come to visit.  Colig. 
What do you mean Father, must I leave the Room and shut the Door?  Cor. 
Away, you Dunce, I mean you must take heed  
That you do no ways interrupt discourse.  Colig. 
I shall Sir.  Cor. 
I say you must not by no means.  
Pox how I shall be plagued!  
Why they will straight perceive thou art ill bred.  
I'll send thee straight into the Country,  
For here thou wilt be Jeered, or may be killed  
For doing some preposterous foolish thing.  Colig. 
I fear not that;  
But good Sir consider the smallness of this stock.  Cor. 
Why here is more, a Crown in gold.  
Be sure you wear this still but for a show.  Colig. 
I'll do as does befit a man.  Cor. 
As does befit a Gudgeon.  
Well Sir le's see how you will bear yourself;  
I fear we shall have some rank tricks o'th' school.  Colig. 
Here comes our Guest Father.  Enter D'Elpeche and servants. D'elpe. 
The Master of this house I think you are?  Cor. 
The man that's honoured with that title Sir.  Colig. 
Yes 'tis my Father Sir, and I'm his Son.  D'elpe. 
I did believe as much.  
Sir I must beg your patience for the trouble  
My men and I must give you this same Winter,  
But they shall still most orderly observe  
A just Decorum which befits the place.  Cor. 
Your men!  
Why Sir I hope your whole Troop is not quartered  
Upon my house?  D'elpe. 
Oh no Sir!  
I mean my servants,  
They are men too.  Colig. 
Yes indeed father are they,  
The Gentleman speaks truth,  
The Captain I should say Sir:  
I humbly Crave your pardon: 'twas a mistake.  D'elpe. 
O Sir, the fault is not so great.  Colig. 
I hope so Sir: I should be loath in any way t'offend.  Cor. 
Hold you your prating;  
Sir, you freely may command this house,  
And him that's owner of't.  D'elpe. 
Your servant Sir.  Cor. 
And if in aught my Son can do you Service,  
Pray command him too.  Colig. 
ay, or if my Sisters can do you Service,  
Pray command them too.  D'elpe. 
Sir, I shall study still to be their Servant.  Takes him aside. Cor. 
You must be prating still.  Colig. 
Why Father, would you not have me civil  
To our new guest the Captain?  Cor. 
Yes, but mark me, and Imitate.  To himself. D'elpe. 
Are these his Sisters  
Which he talks of, handsome?  Cor. 
You're melancholy Sir;  
Shall we walk in and taste the fruit,  
Or rather Juicy substance of th' last Vintage?  Colig. 
Which is to say,  
Let's crack a Biscuit o'er a glass of Wine.  D'elpe. 
I did conceive as much:  
I shall wait on you Sir.  Colig. 
And I will wait on you most noble Captain.  D'elpe. 
O Lord Sir.  [Exeunt. Enter Malignii Solus. Malig. 
Beaupre to morrow goes to fetch her hither;  
'Twas so he said.  
'Sdeath can he still be blind?  
I've known him subtle as the Air, to find  
Another's secret out; and glide  
Through the small Pores that guard the heart  
And there take view of all that it concealed;  
Such power his Cunning and discourses had;  
But now a Mole, or else he seems to be so.  
Hare-brained Allecto lend me but one snake,  
I'll make his heart the pasture to maintain it;  
And all ye Furies hold your Torches high,  
That they may Sparkle fire to his Eyes,  
And his Soul bubble o'er as fast as yours;  
'Twill be a gallant slame when his fierce rage  
Shoots forth in Flakes like Aetna in her Labour,  
And Beaupre too, that is as hot as he,  
Shall meet that Ardour with an Equal heat;  
Oh how my Soul rejoices when I think on't!  
Back, back, ye foolish thoughts, of man, and honour,  
You're but diseases to me, and my Love  
Hath long been Pestered with your Childish fears;  
That is the Deity which I adore,  
And what doth not conduce to profit that,  
Shall still be held Heretical by me.  Enter Beaupre. 
Ha! What makes him follow me.  Beaup. 
Maligni, as e'er thou were't my Friend,  
Excuse me to my Colonel,  
I dare not stay, the health's grow ponderous,  
For great glasses filled,  
Burden the stomach and make the head light.  Malig. 
Why how now Sir, are you turned Flincher too?  
Nay then the trick of drinking will grow stale:  
For shame leave not your Colonel so.  Beaup. 
Why there be some more Officers with him,  
La'march is there, and Boutefeu I think,  
D'elpech is just now entered, all ask for you,  
For me I think they cannot miss this night;  
But if my Colonel should Chance to ask,  
Say I was much distempered, and went home;  
Besides to morrow I must be stirring early.  Malig. 
About your Journey?  
'tis better far than drinking,  
To entertain one's self so near the joy  
With thinking of it.  Beaup. 
Why? do you find such pleasure, Sir, in riding?  Malig. 
To wait on such fair objects, Sir, I do.  Beaup. 
I wonder then you spoke not for th' Employment.  Malig. 
You had prevented me, or else I would.  Beaup. 
You are mistaken, Sir, my Colonel  
Pitched upon me, knowing with what joy;  
I still was pressed t'o bey, and do him service.  Malig. 
Most likely Sir.  Beaup. 
Good night, good Major, pray excuse me this time.  [Exit. Malig. 
Diseases close your Eyes—  
How is my soul racked, when I see this man?  
And yet my Genius will not give me Leave,  
T'attempt my quire, by his sudden death;  
Something there is that awes me strangely:  
Conscience I'm sure it is not:  
For did he walk with mark and curse of Heaven,  
To those that should deprive him of his life,  
I'd wish this hand had done't;  
Something I must find out, and suddenly,  
To thrust him on to Ruin:  
His Angel must be watchful if he scape me.  [Exit. Enter D'orvile as conducting them to the door, Bourefeu, I a'march, Delpe i. D'orv. 
I am sorry gentlemen you will not stay,  Bout. 
'tis late Sir,  
And our Colonel will want his rest.  La'mar. 
We fear our trouble has been great already.  D'orv. 
It was an honour you have done my house.  D'elp. 
No further, Sir, I pray.  La'mar. 
Sir, I beseech you leave us here.  D'orv. 
Gentlemen, I'm still obedient to what you command.  D'elp. 
Your humblest Servants, Sir.  [Exit D'orville. La'mar. 
Now what shall we do?  
No acquaintance here, Boutefeu?  
Nor you, D'elpeche? Now I think on't better,  
Thou art a Puling Lover,  
Writ'st Verses, or at lest pretendest to't,  
Mak'st all address Upsii Platonic;  
I will not go to bed yet▪  
What are you for?  Bout. 
I? why any thing.  
D'elpeche, hast e'er a Mistress here  
We may repair to?  
Two hours in Town with thee's an Age;  
I know thou canst not want a Mistress here.  D'elp. 
And do you hope I'll bring you to her?  Bout. 
Why not?  
Dost think I would profane thy Lady Bright  
With scurvy Courting?  La'mar. 
Or put thee out of countenance  
With saying things we never did intend,  
But yet so quaint and new a Dialect,  
That she shall stand amazed at our great wit,  
And find by proof hereafter thou hast▪ none.  D'elp. 
Why you brace of Baboons,  
Do not I know it's a Bawdy-house you look for▪  
You Mistress? Flanders Mares,  
And those extremely ready to be Horsed,  
You'll hardly stay the Courtship else.  Bout. 
Why where's the pleasure of it else?  
Daily to wait upon my Lady's Dog,  
And pick the Fleas that de molest his Worship;  
Make cringes to her Picture,  
Swear 'tis Heaven to hear her hum an Air,  
Though out of Tune.  
If she but smile, fall backward in a Rapture;  
If frown, fall in a Swoon and break your face.  La'mar. 
Or fit and praise the wit she shows  
In the ingenious choosing of her colours.  D'el. 
You speak as if I thus employed my time.  Bout. 
Most certainly thou dost.  La'mar. 
Come, come, shall's go drink?  
For yet I will not go to bed.  D'elp. 
Fie, sie, we're wondrous hot  
With Wine already, I could tell ye.  
But you are Brutes and will do some rude thing.  Bout. 
I swear we won't.  
What is't, or where, D'elpeche?  D'el. 
Why look you, Gentlemen,  
I'm lodged where Beauties live,  
Whose eyes will force high capers in your bloods:  
Will you prepare your morrow's Visit  
With a quaint Serenade this night?  La'mar. 
Agreed i'faith; where shall we get the Music?  D'elp. 
That I did bespeak before.  Enter Fiddlers. 
See here, I think they're come.  Bou. 
What are you, Gentlemen,  
The merry Boys, that saw a heart in sunder  
With your Rofin?  Mus. 
This Gentleman bespoke us here to night.  D'el. 
I did so, pray begin.  Mus. 
What shall we play, Sir?  D'el. 
the newest Airs. 
They play an Air or two.   Bout. 
Pox o' these fine things;  
Can you not play the Siege of Rochel?  Mus. 
Yes, Sir.  D'el. 
Fie, Boutefeu, there's a Tune for Ladies.  Bout. 
Why then let them play  
The Tune we made the Song to th' other night. 
La'mar. sings the Tune to the Music.   La'ma. 
ay, I, by any means.  
Lum terum, tum, etc.  Mus. 
Oh, Sir, we know the Tune.  Bout. 
Begin then; D'elpeche, you shall bear your part.  D'el. 
My hope is they'll not understand us.  La'mar. 
Come, come, I'll begin.  

The Song.  La'mar. 
How happy and free is plunder,  
When we care not for Jove nor his Thunder?  
Having entered a Town,  
The Lasses go down,  
And to their O're-comers lie under.  Chorus together. 
Then why should we study to love, and look pale,  
And make long Addresses to what will grow stale?  Bout. 
If her fingers be soft, long, and slender.  
When once we have made her to render,  
She will handle a Flute  
Better far than a Lute,  
And make what was ha'— rd to grow te— nder,  Chor. 
Then why should we study, etc.  All three sing this together. 
When the houses with flashes do glitter,  
We can sever our sweets from the bitter,  
And in that bright night  
We can take our delight,  
And no damsel shall scape but we'll hit her.  Chor. 
Then why should we study, etc.   D'el. 
Peace, peace, pray peace,  
The window opens.  
Play and sing that I sent you to night.  Mus. 
We shall, Sir.  La'mar. 
Plague o'you 〈◊〉, ye Dogs,  
Cannot your Instruments stand in Tune  
One quarter of an hour?  D'el. 
Prithee, La'march, be silent,  

SONG.  

See where Calisto wheels about  
The Northern Axletree of Heaven,  
And swift Boötes still does Rout  
Before his Lash the glittering Seven.  
View then those Eyes which are more fair  
Than any Star that glitters there.   

2.  
Fair Cassiopeia, wouldst thou gain  
The Prize of glory in thy Sphere?  
Try then to borrow of these Twain  
Two pair of Eyes that shine more clear  
For whilst they sparkle here below,  
Obscurer Lights we cannot know.   

3.  
In nights they far outshine the Moon,  
And render them like glorious days,  
They may contend at height of Noon  
To equalise the Sun's bright Rays:  
Their Coronet of Hair, though brown,  
Does far outshine Ariadne's Crown.   

4.  
Then gently dart those beams; for know,  
How quick and fiercely they surprise  
The Sentinels that expect below  
The dawning of your beauteous Eyes.  
We are your Plants, and if we thrive,  
'Tis by your influence that we live. 
The window opens quick.     Bou. 
Ladies, does this please you?  D'el. 
Prithee be silent.  La'mar. 
Why? have you prepared any more tricks for them?  Bou. 
Besides we should fain hear  
The heavenly Music of their Voices.  
Ladies, can you vouchsafe a Parley?  Mar. 
We can, Sir;  
Though that must never give you any hopes,  
The Fort is to be rendered.  Bout. 
We ask it not upon those terms.  Franc. 
If you do Sirs,  
we'll straight advance our flag of high defiance.  La'ma. 
What colour beats it Lady?  
Or what Motto?  
For it needs must be extraordinary,  
Since women hold it forth.  Franc. 
See Sir, the Colour's white,  
And for the Motto,  
Sister, what shall it be?  Maria. 
Any thing, the colour speaks itself,  
'tis Innocence.  La'ma. 
So are your sheets Lady.  Maria. 
And shall be so still for you Sir.  La'ma. 
Say you so? why then come doleful death.  D'elpe. 
Come, come, La'march we shall grow troublsome,  
'tis late; Lady's we humbly kiss your hands.  Both. 
We are your Servants Sir. 
Shut to the window.   Bout. 
Why in such haste D'elpeche?  
Pox, why did you take leave so soon?  
I was studying of a fine speech: which now you've spoiled.  D'elpe. 
No matter, to morrow will serve,  
I'll teach thee one without book by that time.  Bout. 
I'm much beholding to your Learning Sir.  Enter the Round. Round. 
Stand, who goes there? Speak to the round.  La'ma. 
Friends to the guard.  Round. 
I think you are some of the officers  
That last came to Town.  D'elpe. 
You are in the right Gentlemen.  
But whither so fast this way?  Round. 
To the Governor Sir, for the keys,  
There is some noble man at the gate,  
Desires presently to be let into, Town.  D'elpe. 
Know ye who is?  Round. 
No, but he desires straight to be conducted  
To the Governor. Goodnight Gentlemen; 'tis late,  La'ma, 
We know it Sits.  Bout. 
Come, we two go together.  
D'elpeche, you are at home.  La'ma 
Adien Mounsieur; we may I hope,  
See these Ladies to morrow.  D'elpe. 
Much may be done, as ye behave yourselves.  Bout. 
Adien Formality.  D'elpe. 
Good night Swash. 
Bout. and Lama. go out with music playing them to their Lodging.   [Exeunt severally. Enter D'orvile, making himself ready, and Servants. D'or. 
I wonder whoed should be thus late?  Seru. 
Some express from Court, Sir.  D'or. 
I certainly, but what about, I cannot guests.  
Get things in readiness,  
They say, it is a man of Quality.  Seru. 
Shall I wake the Colonel?  D'or. 
By no means;  
The Compliment were ill, to stay him here  
This night, and trouble him.  
Be sure there be no noise made  
About his Chamber.  Seru. 
There shall not Sir.  D'or. 
Go then, dispatch, and let a Room be straight provided,  
That he may rest himself.  Exit servant; 
What should this Summons mean?  
I hope the king is well.  Enter General, La Barr, and the guard, with lights before 'em. Gener. 
I hope you'll pardon this disturbance?  D'or. 
The greatest honour could arrive unto me.  Gener. 
La Barr, give the guard to drink.  
They're careful men, and aught to be rewarded.  Exit Guard. D'or. 
I'm glad you found 'em so;  
If negligent, the blame had all been mine.  aside. 
But Sir, I hope no evil accident  
Is 〈◊〉 that you travel now so late.  Gener. 
None, I assure you Governor.  
I had a great desire to wait upon you,  
And free myself from the Tempestuous noise,  
And Turbulent cares, the Court afflicts us with:  
I hope all health possesses your fair Daughter.  D'or. 
She cannot want it Sir, that has your wishes:  
But you are weary Sir, and want repose.  Gener. 
Indeed I am,  
We have rid hard to day;  
No lodge's too be found in all the Suburbs,  
Else we had spared you this night's trouble.  D'or. 
You than had wronged your servant much.  
But Sir, 'tis morning, you may break fast  
Before you go to bed.  Gener. 
Not now, for I am wondrous weary.  D'or. 
I shall Conduct you then unto your Chamber.  Gener. 
Come, La-Barr, I think thou sleep'st.  Exit before D'orv. La'barr.  

ACT 2. SCENE 1.  Enter Malignii. Malig. 
HE's gone,  
And may the plagues of hell pursue his steps.  
How diligent he is to my undoing?  
I have been all this night as watchful too  
As he; though from a different cause:  
For mine was malice, and a jealous hate,  
That tenterhookt my Eye-lid's, when as sleep  
Did poise 'em down;  
Curse be the Guards that let him forth,  
At that dead time of night,  
Some trick might else have stayed his journey;  
And may be hers from coming hither;  
I shall grow mad to see this Beardless boy  
Outrival me, in what I most esteem.  
Oh Bellmont, too cruel, and too fair!  
But yet, I will not fall alone:  
That minute, Malignii, thy hopes shall leave thee,  
Resolve, all bliss and comfort shall leave her,  
Unless thy wits with hope shall take their flight.  
For I am not that curious Coxcomb Lover,  
That suffers patiently, and will admit  
He not deserves when she does think unfit.  
They that can make me suffer without pity,  
Deserve inflictions from my brains requital.  
— I have it,— or if that fail,  
Boutefeu's an Engine I can set awork.  
A blunt, conceited fool—  
And for his temper—  
I'll manage him, no Chemist with more Art▪  
And when I please, his worship flies in Fumo.  
But first, I'll to my Colonel to move,  
All sails is best to catch at sleeting Love.  [Exit. Enter D'orvile, Charlotte. D'orv. 
You know I never did refuse you aught  
Was fitting you should ask, or I should grant;  
Nor am I such a lealous fool, Charlotte,  
To doubt the strength of your fair Education:  
But as it is your duty to obey,  
So it is mine to tell you freely now  
Wherein and how I do expect it from you.  
You know what Guest arrived here last night,  
(Whose father was the maker of my fortune)  
He's young, and has a presence too too fair,  
To trust a Courtship without timely counsel;  
I know his aims at you.  Charl. 
'Tis more than yet I am acquainted with;  
Do you not mean Brisac?  D'orv. 
No, no, you know I done't;  
Or are you ignorant of visits that concern you?  
'Tis Clairmont the young brave General,  
Arrived here when we were all a-bed.  Charl. 
Truly I did not know so much.  D'orv. 
Nor had you no suspicion of his coming?  Charl. 
Why do you ask me, Sir?  
Do you suspect secret intelligence  
Twixt him and me? I hope my honour's fair  
In your belief, else truly I am wronged.  D'orv. 
It is, my dearest Girl;  
Nor is it an opinion of thy weakness  
That draws this counsel from me,  
But tender care my love does owe thy youth,  
And as a father I do owe my child.  Charl. 
Proceed, dear Sir,  
And from the expect a full obedience.  D'orv. 
Know then, (Charlotte) a Maid with beauty stored,  
Aught to be Mistress of much care and wit,  
Not to esteem the Treasure of a face  
Or body, more than of a fairer mind.  
I counsel no neglect of them; but still  
With equal labour strive to gain the Prize  
Of Beauty's Laurel, and of being wise;  
Or else your sob'rest Looks will still provoke,  
And what you meant for chaste be construed Love;  
Till you have got repute of all the world  
That you are virtuous, as they think you fair:  
Then like a Beauteous Field of Corn you'll show,  
Which none may reap, though all admire and wish,  
Till the right Owner calls this Harvest home.  
Nor Love consents that Beauty's Field lie waste,  
Weed out all Vice, and plant fair Virtue there;  
Of all, be wary of an easy Faith,  
A root that quite destroys a Virtuous mind;  
The bitter seed is Candied with sweet words,  
Which when the Sugar's melted all away,  
Does shoot up into infamy and ruin;  
For though that Nature made you to be won,  
Yield not till by a fair approach your ta'en.  
D'ye understand me what I mean by this?  Charl. 
I shall do, Sir, by that time you have ended.  D'orv. 
In short, I'd have you know  
In fewer words, without all Parables,  
I am not ignorant why Clairmont comes hither,  
And though he does pretend a weariness  
Of business, and the crowding of a Court,  
'Tis to see you he comes, and so he'll tell you:  
Thus far I know: but whether ill or well  
He means in his addresses, you'll best learn—  
In fine, your Honour now (which still is mine)  
Depends upon upon the trial of your virtue,  
And if your beauty could attract his eyes,  
Your virtue tried will tie 'em constant to you.  Charl. 
All these have been the Lessons of my Mother,  
And I may hope that I am perfect in 'em.  D'orv. 
I hope so too, Charlotte; and so I leave you,  
For I do hear Clairmont's already up.  [Exit D'orv. Charl. 
What wondrous pains our Parents seem to take?  
Who though they gave us Natures, cannot frame  
What they themselves have made, obedient to them.  
I thank my Stars, mine is not so depraved,  
That I need blush the owning of its passions.  
But why my Soul, Image of Heavenly Good,  
Should stoop to Earth, and hearken to the World,  
And the base Cries of worldly interest,  
None but a father's care can reason give:  
For I'm too young and innocent to know  
Trichs of dissembling and forced piety.  
Clairmont's a worthy man, I must confess,  
And one, whose Love were too much honour for me;  
Nor could I just exceptions ever find  
Against his person; yet, to speak the truth,  
I never yet could find myself inclined  
To love his Person or his glorious Mind;  
Esteem as much as ever I could give,  
He still received from me as reverence due.  
But whither art thou fled, my innocence?  
I grow too knowing; can distinctions make  
Beyond my Lessons, 'twixt Esteem and Love;  
Do know their different Concord's on the mind,  
And can distinguish either's harmony.  
For shame, Charlotte, be silent in thy fault:  
Ha! I hope I have committed none as yet,  
Nor do I think I ever shall▪  
I love, 'tis true: but thousand Deaths I'll die  
Ere I betray my frailty to the Man,  
He ne'er shall brag one look hath conquered me;  
For though my Love be Virtuous, yet so soon  
To be overcome will argue Easiness;  
Alas! why should it though? must it be time  
Should conquer more than sympathy of mind?  
Great god of Love, pity a Virgin's fate,  
And if I must be wounded by thy hand,  
Spare not the Instrument that caused my harm,  
If he be wounded too I shall not mourn.  
Lord! how I talk? but womens' hearts oppressed,  
Will breathe their secrets to the careless Air,  
Rather than silence keep: Great god of Love,  
Once more I beg that thou my Patron prove.  [Exit. Enter Collignii, Cortaux. Coll. 
O Lord, Sir! d'ye think I know not what I do?  Cort. 
Before heaven, I'll break thy head,  
If thou but attempt it.  Colig. 
That's a good one i'faith;  
I know you do but try my Civility,  
And whether I can be peremptory in good manners;  
In fine, I am resolute, and so much for that.  Cort. 
Well, and so much for that too.  [Beats him. Colig. 
Nay, now I am resolved,  
Nor shall thy Fate, O Rome—  Cor. 
Will ye, will ye, Sirrah?  
Curse on thy folly, it will be my shame.  Colig. 
I'm sure yours will be my shame,  
Nay, a shame to our whole Family.  
Not requite Obligations?  
Ingratitude's a black Sin.  Cort. 
But why in the open day?  Colig. 
Because they shall know 'twas I did it.  Cort. 
They'll take thee for a Fiddler,  
And think thou com'st to give them their welcome  
To th' Town.  Col. 
P'heu! I'll warrant ye, why do I look  
Like a Fiddler? ha, ha, ha!—  Enter Mariane, Francibel. Cort. 
Here's your Sisters,  
Ask 'em if if it were fit.  Col. 
What? am not I as wise as they?  
Though they be of our counsel for the hemming of your  
Bands and Cuffs, I hope I know what belongs to  
Gallantry (as they call't.)  Mar. 
Indeed you are a prime Gallant.  Fran. 
Yes faith, ask the Woman of the Tennis-Court else,  
Who beat you for filching of her Balls to play  
At Bowls on Holidays.  Mar. 
For Stew'd-prunes and Gingerbread.  Col. 
Out, Puss—  Cort. 
Nay, nay, I think they'll tell you your own.  Mar. 
Pray, Sir, what trim thing would he do now?  Cort. 
'Sdeath, he would carry the Fiddlers to give  
The Gentlemen that were at your window last night  
A Serenade at Noonday.  Fran. 
Cokes him, Pugg—  Col. 
Baggages, I would so thrum your Jackets,  
If it were not for my father,  
I should make you more mannerly.  Mar. 
Away, Gull—  Cort. 
Nay, nay, too much of one thing's good for nothing.  Col. 
I will have Music for the Gentlemen,  
As far as this can go; and that you shall see too,  
And so be with ye.  [Exit Col. Mar. 
Nay, pray stay, Sir, let him have his humour.  Cort. 
Pox on's humours, my Purse will be the lighter  
For his humours.  [Exit Cortaux. Franc. 
Not lighter than his head, I'll warrant ye.  Mar. 
I find my father's consideration in this business  
Proceeds from the Purse, more than from any folly  
He conceives in the Action.  Fran. 
Truly, Sister, I am much of your opinion.  
But dost think the Blades will come to visit us to day?  Mar. 
I'll warrant you; prithee let's in, we are not half in order to receive them.  [Exeunt Ambo. Enter General and La-l'a●●. Clair. 
How careful are we in a trifling dress,  
As if our clothes put stops unto the mind,  
And framed the harmony of our Mistress thoughts?  Lab. 
It argues cleanly curiosity,  
A thing that draws the subtlest Lady's eye  
To an attention of the person.  Clair. 
But dost thou like this dress?—  
I am so little used to care how 'tis,  
I know not when I'm well;  
I used to take my Tailor's word,  
But now I am growing mighty scrupulous.  
Prithee survey me well,  
How is my hair here; I'll wear no Cloak,  
A Sword and Belt alone does better.  Lab. 
A good shape still thinks it warm.  Clair. 
How can I choose when I am all on fire?  
Oh! how I long to see my fair Charlotte!  Lab. 
But have you quite forgot your fair Bellmont?  Clair. 
Thou know'st she never would be kind;  
Wouldst have me dote for ever without hopes?  
Beside, I like her not so well as this.  Lab. 
Yet if I might but freely speak my thoughts—  Clair. 
Prithee do.  Lab. 
I think her beautiful as any one.  Clair. 
I thought so too once,  
But she was coy, pestilent coy.  Lab. 
'Tis true, there was something in the wind,  
More than I understood: she would have harkened else.  
Here comes her Brother, Sir.  Enter Brisac, D'elpeche, Lamarch, Boutefeu, salute Clairmont severally. Clair. 
Have you been well quartered, Gentlemen?  
It was my chiefest care you should be so.  Bris. 
Extremely well, Sir, we humbly thank you.  Clair. 
Well, what news? how d'ye mean to pass this Winter?  Bris. 
We little hoped to have had the happiness,  
That your fair presence brings unto the place.  Clair. 
What can there be more pleasant to the mind,  
Than sharing mirth, with those have shared in danger?  
We will be merry, Gentlemen, shall we not?  
Are the Player's good that are in Town?  
Monsieur D'elpeche, you know, you are a Virtuoso.  D'el. 
They say themselves they will do wonders for us,  
I never saw 'em Act.  Bris. 
I think the self same Band was once at Orleans.  Bout. 
The same, Sir, had the great mischance.  Clair. 
What was it, prithee?  Bout. 
Acting Orpheus descent into Hell,  
Their Fireworks set a fire on the Stage,  
Which burned some part o'th' Town.  Clair. 
The Town then shared in their misfortune.  Bout. 
Most certain, Sir.  Clair. 
But, Colonel, what Ladies are in Town?  
You are a neighbour born unto this place.  Bris. 
But 'tis long since I have frequented it;  
The fair Rosella I do hear is dead,  
Mar I'd to an old Miser broke her heart with grief.  Clair. 
Was she so handsome as her same did speak?  Bris. 
When I was here last,  
I did not study much what Beauty was,  
But yet, methought, I was much pleased to see her.  Clair. 
But don't you now observe with stricter eyes  
A Lady's feature?  Bris. 
Troth, Sir, methinks I do begin;  
Nay, I have seen a Lady in this Town  
Not much unlike her.  Clair. 
Prithee who is't?  Bris. 
Sir, that were to disclose my inclinations,  
For I extremely like, and that's a kin to Love.  Clair. 
And sha'n't I be your confident?  
I'll be very secret.  Bris. 
When I begin to love indeed,  
Perchance I then will tell you:  
But yet the secret is not worth your hearing.  Clair. 
I'll take your word till then.  Bris. 
But may I dare to hope  
You'll be as free with me?  
For you of later years  
Have much frequented Tours,  
'Tis sure for something.  Clair. 
I know not whether it be safe or no  
To trust young men, like you, with my Love secrets.  Bris. 
Most safely, Sir.  
A man like you needs never fear a Rival▪  
Especially of me.  Clair. 
I shall be glad to hold you still my friend.  Bris. 
And I much honoured in that Title, Sir.  Enter D'orville. Clair. 
Governor, your humblest Servant,  
I hope you have excused my last night's trouble.  D'or. 
You know not, Sir, with what great zeal  
I still shall court the honour of your presence.  Clair. 
I know your goodness, Sir, is infinite,  
So is my will to show how much I love you.  D'or. 
I then need envy no man.  
But will you please to see the Works this morning,  
There are some things are lately finished  
Do add much strength to this fair place.  Clair. 
With all my heart. Come, I'll go see the Works;  
These are the offspring of a Soldiers Brain,  
Which if they perfect prove, do serve to keep  
And cherish him in's Age from pressing foes;  
They're children left to th' Parish to maintain,  
And we the bold Parishioners must do it.  [Exeunt omnes. Enter Beaupre, and Bellmont, Luyson, Boy, as from traveling. Beau. 
Let the Coach be led about by the Bridge,  
We here can pass the River with a boat,  
An land at the Garden dore.  Boy. 
We shall Sir.  Beau. 
Now, fairest Bellmont, is the Minute come,  
In which your heavenly charity must grant  
All that I e'er can wish for in this World,  
Or render me the most unhappy in it:  
Oh speak my Bellmont, are you so resolved?  Bellm. 
Way Sir? do you think my mind so soon can alter?  
You know I promised to fulfil your will.  Beau. 
No certainly, I cannot fear that ill.  
But fairest, if your eras were ever Charmed  
With the harmonionss sound of one sweet strain,  
Would you not wish to hear it played again?  
How willingly we hear of joys are past?  
But how much more of those we are to taste?  
The Friar will attend us in this walk;  
I wonder he appears not yet,  
The hour's passed I did appoint our coming.  Bellm. 
But pray, Sit, give me leave to ask a question:  
And answer me without dissimulation.  Beau. 
As to my Ghostly-father were I dying.  Bellm. 
I know there are not greater friends on earth▪  
Than you, dear Sir, and my dear brother are;  
Why do you not impart this business to him?  Beau. 
I'll tell you.  Bellm. 
Stay: do you think he doth suspect nothing?  Beau. 
Truly I think he does not.  Bellm. 
Pray Sir, then answer what I first did ask.  Beau. 
That I am honoured with his kindest Love,  
I really believe, And that's one reason why I'm silent to him.  Bellm. 
That now I do not understand.  Beau. 
That he does Love me, as I said before,  
I think most certain; so the reason is  
Of all mens' perfect love to one another  
A great opinion they are beloved too;  
But did he know the passion I have for you,  
He then might doubt my freindships' perfectness,  
And think it joined with ends upon  
His goodness to me; and my love to you.  
Bred but profession of a love to him.  
This, Time I judge coal I cure him off,  
But yet, the doubt I know at first will breed  
A coldness in him; and that coldness shake  
Poor me into such Mortal apprehensions,  
As it would pity you to see it.  
That he believes I love you, I don't question,  
And shall do daily more, when you are mine,  
For I would have the knowledge grow upon him.  
Besides, since that we firmly have resolved that nought  
Shall hinder the Uniting of our hearts,  
Let's strive to meet our bliss the nearest way;  
And let dull Travellers pursue the Road.  Bellem. 
If it be bliss to make you master of  
A thing I fear's not worth your so great joy,  
Know, all that pleases you, brings such content  
Unto my mind, that I shall study still,  
Out of self interest, how to please you most.  
Here, Sir, can this hand by a proxy wed  
Its heart to yours, for that was given first.  Beau. 
And I most blessed in this delivery:  
But I will now be base as Tradesmen are,  
Not trust, without the bond be signed, and sealed:  
'Tis all my wealth, of which I'm Covetous.  Enter Friar. 
Here's one can draw it up forever sure;  
Welcome most honoured Sir.  Fryer. 
All happiness attend you Son,  
And to this Lady what my prayers can gain.  
I did not think you would be here before me.  Beau. 
We're making haft unto our haven Sir,  
And you're the Pilot that we did attend.  〈◊〉 
I know fair Lady you're acquainted with  
The purposes that my Son did mention to me?  Bellm. 
I hope a blush will be unnecessary  
In actions you allow.  
Reverend Sir, I am,  
An I crave your help as earnestly as he.  Friar. 
Where mutual hearts express the same consent,  
Heaven's blessings give,  
As to the proper Emblem of the Church,  
And may all yours be doubled on your heads.  Beau. 
Thanks kindest father.  Bellm. 
Thanks most Reverend Sir.  Friar. 
Come, follow me, where I will make you One,  
Till death does cancel what you promise now:  
And may you still hereafter bless the minute.  Exeunt. Enter Lamarch, Boutefeu, hanging about D'elpeche. Lama. 
Come, come, prithee D'elpeche be not so nice,  
I tell thee thou shalt choose,  
And one will serve us both.  D'elpe. 
On that condition, Gentlemen, I am for you.  Bout. 
Why, I'm content, I sweat I'll break no covenants.  D'elpe. 
Bouteseu, have you your speech ready?  
You mentioned one last night.  Bout. 
Yes that I have, pox' do you think I cannot talk as sinely as you, with your Metaphors and tricks?  Lama. 
Yes that a can, for all a looks so.  
Well Mounsieur we shall hear what sport you'll make,  
For I am your Rival.  Bout. 
I but Mounsieur, I would scarce advise you  
To make sport with me before our mistress:  
D'ye mark that Sir?  Lamar. 
Most lovingly I do intend to deal;  
What shall we be? Centaurs, or Lapithes?  
Quarrel about a Wench? no Pylades,  
I thy Orestes will be still thy friend,  
And yet thy Rival in affection Bully.  Bout. 
hay toss, hard words, that I forbid in our bargain; I'll snatch away the Wench, if you begin to talk so there; 'sdeath I shall be bought, and sold, and not know what they mean; no, no, I'll have none of that, here's D'elpeche can talk hard words enough for u's all.  D'elpe. 
I 〈◊〉, but I shan't steer your course,  
I'll leave you to the storms of loud Laughter.  Lama. 
we'll begin with you, ha, ha, ha,- see who'll fare best you or we.  Bout. 
ay, I, then let 'em laugh that win;  
Two against one is odds at football.  Lama. 
Oh I could bite thy lips off for that;  
Nay, nay, the tide comes in, for Wit begins to slow;  
Knock, knock, D'elpeche, here is the house.  D'elpe. 
Nay the door is open, enter Gentlemen, 'tis  
My Lodging.  Exeunt. And Enter again D'elpeche, leading Mariane, Lamarch and Boutefeu, 〈◊〉 cibell. Franc. 
'Tis too much honour Gentlemen;  
And I'm too much acquainted with myself,  
Ever to hope that I can please you both.  Bout. 
P'heu, never fear that, Lady:  
If you will, I know you can do more than that does come to.  Franc. 
As how good Sir?  Bout. 
Nay, Soldiers never give an Explication of that they say or do.  Lama. 
They may Sir, to their Mistress,  
Without the forfeit of their reputation.  Bout. 
But what if they won't Sir?  Lama. 
Then they may choose Sir.  Franc. 
Most certain Sir, this Gentleman speaks truth.  Bout. 
Why then I think ye both are answered;  
But, Lady, as I was about to tell ye,  
I love most passionately when I do begin.  Lama. 
And I began, the minute that I saw you.  Bout. 
But that's foul play to end a speech that I Began.  Lama. 
Why Sir? I have not made an end yet.  Bout. 
Prithee then do, and leave us to ourselves,  
O go and help D'elpeche, he's out of breath.  D'el. 
'Tis then with laughing to see your fine dispute.  
Ha, ha, ha—  Mar. 
Ha, ha, ha, Sister, Sister, aware Guns, you're besieged.  Franc. 
Look you to your own affairs, I'm well manned.  
And can resist the fiercest storm.  Bout. 
Well said, you need fear no Attacks  
As long as we are with you.  D'el. 
Why, Sir, 'tis from you she fears them most,  
And from your friend; 
Lama. is kissing her hand.  See, he has tane in  
Her hand already.  Bout. 
Troth now I think I'm even with him. 
Bout. kisses th'other.   D'elp. 
That thou 〈◊〉, keep still to that, Boy.  
See, fairest Mistress, how happy those men are  
That venture boldly or,  
And fear not the mortal Canon of a frown.  Mar. 
But you more cunningly approach the Fort.  
And hope to undermine it ere expected.  D'el. 
Not I, 
Kisses her hand  by this fair hand.  Mar. 
You might have spared the Oath, yet been belleved.  D'el. 
No, I will rather swear again, than want credit.  
By this fair hand, 
Again.▪  the Emblem of your mind,  
I love you much, yet is my love as pure  
As the white Snow this so resembles.  
You are too young and innocent to frame  
A Rebel thought, were I made up of ill—  Mar. 
But, good Sir, swear no more, I will believe you,  
And if you're wise you will believe yourself.  D'el. 
I will do any thing that you will have me.  Mar. 
Pray then let's mark how they behave themselves.  Fran. 
So have I seen a damsel 〈◊〉 to Church,  
But by such proper men I ne'er saw any,  
Why, Gentlemen, 〈…〉 hand,  
Pray let that go.  Lam. 
I do, 〈…〉.  Bout. 
Not I, by 〈…〉, Sir?  Fran. 
〈◊〉, Gentlemen, 〈…〉.  Lam. 
What does, Madam?  Fran. 
Why my lip, a sly bit it 〈◊〉 now.  Bout. 
That's but an excuse.  Franc. 
Sir, may be I've a mind to blow my nose.  Bout. 
I'll do't for you with my other hand.  Lam. 
Nay, rather, Madam, I will quit my hold.  Bout. 
And I'll not be behindhand in civility.  Franc. 
I thank ye, Gentlemen, but you, Sir, first,  
For you did show the way.  Bout. 
Well, but I let go too.  Franc. 
You did so, Sir, and I thanked you too.  D'el. 
Did you ever see such Courtship?  Mar. 
Not I truly, Sir; for pity let's relieve her.  D'el. 
Well, Gentlemen, how are ye with your fair Mistress?  Lam. 
Troth like beginners, how are you there?  Bout. 
Sure that very young Lady is not so brisk  
In her Answers.  D'el. 
We have beaten a Parley, or rather Truce  
For some time, for we have left Parlying;  
But fairest Mariane, will you but bless  
Our ears with one sweet Ayr.  Mar. 
My Sister, Sir, sings much better.  Fran. 
Nay sie, Sister, now I must say  
You shall sing, you should else have wanted  
My entreaty; jeer me before company?  
You know I never could, nor would sing.  D'el. 
I hope her authority and my prayers may be Successful.  Mar. 
I will not long be entreated,  
For than you will expect much more  
Than what you're like to hear from me.  Franc. 
Sister, prithee sing When Celadon gave up his heart.  Mar. 
No laughing, Gentlemen, I bar that beforehand,  
Your pardons I'll beg afterwards.  

SONG.  

When Celadon gave up his heart  
A Tribute to Astrea's eyes;  
She smiled to see so fair a prize,  
Which beauty had obtained, more than Art:  
But jealousy did seemingly destroy  
Her Chiefest comfort, and her Chiefest Joy.   

2  
Base Jealousy, that still dost move  
In opposition to all bliss;  
And teachest those to do amiss,  
Who think by thee, they tokens give of Love:  
But if a Lover ever will gain me,  
Let him love much, but fly all jealousy.    D'elpe. 
And I will be that Lover Lady;  
For I protest I hate the vice extremely:  
The fear of thieves is worfe than the loss we can  
Sustain by them: w'ere still a being robbed.  Franc. 
Right Sir, As the Coward who fears death  
Dies ten thousand times.  Lamar. 
That Coward am I Lady, as often as I cast mine Eyes upon your face, my heart's at my Mouth, and wants but your kind acceptance to be rid of me.  Bout. 
Or you of it; for a Cowardly heart is not worth the keeping.  Lama. 
Sir, I may make bold with myself, though I could wish you would not.  Franc. 
Fie, fie, Gentlemen, come give me your hands again, Sister prithee one Song A la Ronde.  They all Join hands and dance in a Ring, Answering altogether at the Chorus. 

SONG.  Maria. 
Amarillis told her Swain,  
Amarillis told her Swain,  [Chorus etiam bis. 
That in love ne should be plain  
And not think to deceive her.  Chor. 
Still he protested on his truth  
That he would never leave her.  

2.  
If thou dost keep thy vow quoth she,  
And that thou ne'er dost leave me,  [Chorus bis 
there's ne'er a Swain in all this plain  
That ever shall come near thee   Chor. 
For Garlands and Embroidered Scrips▪  
For I do love thee dearly.  

3.  
But Colin if thou change thy Love,  
But Colin if thou change thy Love,  [Chorus etiam bis. 
A Tygress then I'll to thee prove  
If e'er thou dost come near me.   Cor. 
Amarilis fear not that,  
For I do Love thee dearly.   Mari. 
Fie, how I'm out of breath?  Fran. 
Faith so am I too, pray let's go in and take the Air of the garden.  Lama. 
Come Madam.  Bout. 
Nay Sir, take t'other hand, this was mine before.  Lama. 
Very good Sir, go D'elpeche we'll follow.  
I would speak with you, leave 'em. 
Pulls Bout: by the belt as he leads in Francibel.   [softly. Enter again with Boutefu. Lama. 
How comes it Sir, that in a pastime you dare do base injuries? does your brutality not let you know how you should use your friends?  Bout. 
Brutality! ha! thou art a Brute to say so, draw.  Lama. 
This way a little, there we may be spied.  Enter Colignii with Fiddlers. Colig. 
God's my life here they are! how luckily too! and hard by our house! 
The Fiddlers strike up. Beats the Fiddlers.  play Gentlemen, play.  Bout. 
What the Devil's this? some come to jeer us?  Colig. 
Why Gentlemen, what do ye mean?  
Is this for my Civility?  Lama. 
What Civility thou Ass? prithee begone, and quickly too.  Colig. 
So I will, that I will, if you'll put up your Swords; why d'ye draw your Swords upon me? I'm sure I meant no harm in't, but to make you merry.  Enter D'elpeche. D'el. 
Why, how now, Gentlemen, what's the matter?  
Swords drawn? fie, 'tis childish thus 'mongst friends.  Col. 
O brave, here's our Guest, nay, now I care not,  
He'll not see me wronged.  
Why, Sir, I came purely to requite the obligation ye all did my Sister's last night, and truly seeing them two, I thought you had been in the company too, and so I bade the Music play, but, Lord, had you seen how that tall Gentleman kicked 'em, and how angry this same Gentleman was with me; why, pray, Captain, what hurt was there in this? I'm sure I meant them no more hurt than my own soul.  D'el. 
Go you home, the Gentlemen are much in drink,  
But I'll appease 'em for you, and we'll be all  
Friends, and drink together.  Col. 
Marry, I thought there was something in the matter.  
Pox on their drink, they frighted 〈◊〉 Plaguily;  
God b'you, noble Captain.  [Exit. D'el. 
Fie, Lamarch, are you not ashamed, and  
You, Boutefeu, Friends and Comrades to quarrel  
For a Fly, a Nothing?  Bout. 
A questioned me with scurvy terms.  Lam. 
You used me scurvily, I'm sure, Sir.  Bou. 
Pox! I meant no harm in't,  
And had ye asked me civilly, I had told ye so.  D'el. 
Away with your Punctilios,  
They're pretty things to use to others, but 'mongst  
Ourselves, 'tis madness; come, let's see ye fight, O ye ye are  
Brave Fellows, why don't ye begin? the Montalto, the  
Reverso, the Stoccado, the hey, courage Blades.  Bout. 
Hang yourself, D'elpeche.  Lam. 
Before George, we'll try these tricks upon thee, if thou be'st not quiet, and two to one, you know, Boutefeu said was odds.  D'el. 
Come, ye two fools, I'll ha' this fool that was here just now, make you two Fools Friends.  [Exeunt. Enter Clairmont, Brisac, Charlotte, La-bar, Attendants. Clair. 
Madam, it is a sin beyond a pardon,  
But that your father easily cannot err,  
In the opinion of the world,  
To Cloister up a Beauty of such worth,  
Fitter for Courts and Princes to admire.  
Is it not true, Brisac? Why art thou melancholy?  Char. 
I can't believe that he's of your opinion.  Bris. 
What was it, Madam, that he said?  
For, Sir, my thoughts were bent so strong,  
They took away the sense of all my hearing.  Clair. 
Why, I was blaming of her Father much  
To bless this only Town with his fair daughter,  
And render all that's France besides unhappy  
In the privation of her fairest presence.  Bris. 
I do not doubt she'd be the fairest light  
In any Hemisphere she pleased to shine in,  
But she can find many Adorers here,  
And not like Prophets, lose her light at home.  Clair. 
But Heaven would have us all admire its work,  
As all should this the fairest it e'er made.  Bris. 
Consider then how many Heretics  
This glorious contemplation must needs make,  
For many would ne'er think how Heaven made her,  
But think her Heaven herself.  Charl. 
I'm glad I can so aptly prove  
A subject for your mirth or wit.  Clair. 
Madam, such subjects as you are,  
I must confess, do heighten wit,  
For they do rarify by purest flames  
The dullest Lovers thoughts and heart.  Bris. 
Such subjects, Madam, make all subject to 'em.  Char. 
So, Gentlemen, how long can this stile last?  Bris. 
As long as we find such fair matter for't,  
Which being Infinite in you, may prove Eternal.  Enter Beaupre, Bellmont, Luison. Clair. 
Brisac, your Sister.  Bris. 
Beaupre welcome, welcome dear Sister.  [They all salute. 
Friend have you seen the General yet?  Beau. 
I should be proud you would present me to him.  Bris. 
One that begs the title of your Servant.  Clair. 
I'm his, I do azure you Sir;  
For I'm acquainted with his worth already.  Beau. 
You honour me too much Sir.  Bris. 
Sister, I'll make you happy,  
In bringing you acquainted with a Lady,  
In whose fair conversation all that's good  
Is to be learned.  Bellm. 
A Loving Brother I have ever found you;  
But in this most kind.  Char. 
To me his obligation is so great,  
That I must still remain his thankful debtor.  Clair. 
Labarr, how am I here confounded!  [a side. 
I cannot see 'em both together.  
I'm sorry that some business calls me hence;  
Your Servant Ladies; Gentlemen, 
Ex. Clair.  I'm yours.  Bris. 
What made him go away so soon?  
He mentioned no such haste when he came hither.  Bellm. 
I guess the Cause.  Beau. 
Peace dear Bellmont.  [softly. Bris. 
What is it Sister?  Bellm. 
Some business with the Governor, what should it be else?  Char. 
ay, I; but Madam, are you not extremely weary?  Bellm. 
I never can, when I'm 〈◊〉 you Madam.  Bris. 
You see the Sister speaks the B others thoughts.  Char. 
So fair a mouth as hers will ne'er want credit.  
But come fair Sister, let me call ye so;  
Ye see how rude ambitious Love does make me,  
Let me conduct you to refresh yourself.  [Exeunt. Enter Malignii. Malig. 
Hem, Beaupre, hem, I'd speak with you alone.  Beau. 
I'll return immediately.  Malig. 
I wish thou wouldst to thy first nothing.  
Thou'rt young and stout,  
And if I can but fire thee—  Enter Beaupre. 
Oh you're welcome Sir, you brought the Lady I see.  Beau. 
The Lady, Sir, I went for I have brought.  Malig. 
Ye have done well,  
For people of his quality ought not  
To stay a Minute for their Mistresses.  
You have made haste, and used much diligence.  Beau. 
What Quality d'ye mean?  
What Mistresses?  Malig. 
Why, did not she tell you who she came to see?  
But may be now her mind is altered;  
For Women are most Fickle.  Beau. 
Malignii, sure thou dreamest,  
Or art distempered much with Wine;  
What is 〈◊〉 thou talk'st off?  Malig. 
The fair Bellmont,  
Clairmont's mistress, she whom Brisac sent thee for.  Beau. 
Oh! is that the business?  
Why I can assure you Clairmont was not thought off,  
When he desired me to go.  Malig. 
Nor she did not think to meet him here?  Beau. 
Not that I know of.  Malig. 
Certainly then you are not very intimate with her.  Beau. 
Not much, nor done't pretend to't.  Malig. 
Nay, Boutefeu told me so, ye have my Author:  
But I was vexed to see you sent Ambassador,  
And Ignorant of what was in the Commission.  Beau. 
How came Boutefeu acquainted with this secret?  Malig. 
Phew he knows more than that,  
There's nothing that she ever hideth from him.  Beau. 
A Horse, a fool!  Malig. 
Does the Worm bite?  [softly. 
Faith Sir, these horse Fools sometimes do take a Lady  
More than a spruce witty Courtier,  
Every one of them have a humour.  Beau. 
But I mistake hers much, if hers be so.  Mal. 
I do not say it is—  
I hope you don't think I had such a meaning.  Beau. 
I ne'er interpret any man:  
But what's your business with me?  Mal. 
I'm coming to't;  
I know you love my Colonel,  
And out of that same knowledge I must tell  
You, what does now most narroGwly concern him.  
This sickle General loves Charlotte too:  
But let not your rash youth attempt a thing,  
In emulation of a friendship, not sitting for you,  
Than you take a work out of my hands  
I have ambition too: I but crave your counsel.  
'Sdeath, a shall answer sored: Fool Bellmont,  
And my dear Colonel, 'tis too much,  
Nor shall that saucy fool, Boutefeu,  
Dare more in this to do her right than I.  
I think you love her, Brother, too so much,  
You would not see another take his quarrel,  
Would ye?  Beau. 
Pray go on, Sir.  Mal. 
Why look you, thus I have contrived,  
Boutefeu shall brave Clairmont at every turn,  
VVho'l ne'er endure it.  
Boutefeu is brave, you know, and th' other is  
A powerful Enemy:  
So these two fall by one another's hands,  
And you and I may laugh at either's folly.  Beau. 
The fame these things may breed unto Bellmont  
Will certainly be great; but how good—  Mal. 
Who's in fault?  
Why deals she with so many?  Beau. 
Peace, Bandog, 〈◊〉, 
Draws.   
Or by Heaven I'll send thy Soul  
To its own Mansion, Hell.  Mal. 
Why what's the matter, Sir?  Beau. 
I'll tell thee, Malignii, I ne'er could love thee,  
Nor do I think I ever shall do much;  
Thy conversation is most irksome to me.  Mal. 
But you shall find how much unjust you are;  
Here, kill me, why don't you thrust?  [Opens his breast. 
I'll die the Martyr unto Turth and Honor.  Beau, 
How's that, thou Devil?  Mal. 
Since that my friendship to your hopeful youth  
Has drawn me to this zealous folly,  
I ought to suffer for't;  
Hereafter you may live in ignorance:  
And since you will not grant me for your friend,  
At least grant my intentions friendly were,  
Or I dare draw my Sword to justify 〈◊〉.  [Draws too. Beau. 
If they unfriendly were to fair Bellmont▪  
They were unjust to all that is of honour.  Mal. 
Hold, Beaupre; so may my Soul be blessed  
As I do honour her as much as you,  
And this not fear, but truth exacteth from me.  Beau. 
God b'you, Sir,  
I am sorry thou couldst talk me to such passion.  [Exit. Mal. 
So, this is so plain,  
There needeth no Perspective-glass, I think,  
To let me see that he does love Bellmont;  
And though he seems such Master of his Temper,  
Yet if he be a man of flesh and blood,  
These things must buzz in's head;  
And I'll take care Brisac shall understand  
A bussel which must needs defame his Sister.  
I care not if Clairmont or Boutefeu  
Do perish in his wildness, he must follow.  
Like Shipwrecked men catch 〈◊〉 floating board  
Another's fastened on, and shove him off;  
So in the Tempest of despised Love,  
We shove all Rivals to eternal loss.  
Then blame not perjury in such a ease,  
We may do all to gain a Rival's place.  Enter Brisac, Bellmont. Bris. 
Do you not wonder I have stole you thus  
Unto a privacy, and disturbed your rest?  Bell. 
If there lie aught within my service for you,  
Rest is unfit till I have done that duty.  Bris. 
hay ho!  Bell. 
Why sigh you, Sir?  Bris. 
Ah, Sister! pity the Passion of almighty Love!  Bell. 
What means my dearest Brother?  
You do not speak to me, your thoughts are  
Somewhere else.  Bris. 
But I to you must utter all those thoughts,  
For you are only fit to ease them now;  
Would you do much, Bellmont, to ease your Brother?  Bell. 
All that a Brother ever could expect  
From one that does most dearly love him.  Bris. 
Sister, I am undone,  
My heart is conquered, and I know not well  
What mercy to expect from her has won it.  Bell. 
But how can I express my service in't?  Bris. 
Oh much, fair Sister,  
Very much you may:  
She'll hear you speak without an interruption,  
And much aught to be said  
Where I do love so much.  Bell. 
I'll say all what you'll have me: but to whom?  Bris. 
And can you well describe my passion, Sister?  
For I would have the Copy that you draw  
Come very near the sad Original:  
Paint forth each sigh and doubtful groan I give,  
The wound that every look imprinteth here,  
The mighty storm is raised by groundless hope,  
And the sad shipwreck that despair will bring:  
The mighty mercy 〈◊〉 a promised bliss  
Will make me ever happy, 'bove my merit,  
And all this joined with your sweet Rhetoric,  
(For Women will hear all that Women say)  
Implore reward for one who, 'gainst his will  
Is now become a slave unto 〈…〉  
Which is, you know, unjust, and yet I crave it,  
And without which I die, reward had been  
More due, if I'd willed the thraldom not foreseen.  Bellm. 
Yet, Sir, I'm ignorant  
Before what Judge I am to plead your Cause.  Bris. 
And I had quite forgot to tell ye,  
Or may be I am grown so covetous of her,  
That I am loath to give her name to th' air.  
But, Sister, can't you guests who 'tis I mean?  
If that a born-blind man recovered sight,  
And heard me tell him that the glorious Sun  
Was th'only object which should dazzle him  
Above all other,  
He'd wink, and point unto that glittering Star.  
And by approved reason say, 'Tis that:  
Prithee, dear Sister, guess.  Bellm. 
Is it not my new acquaintance, the fair Charlotte?  Bris. 
Oh 'tis! the fairest that I ever saw.  Bell. 
Brother, rely on me,  
If I do fail to do you service,  
It shall be want of power, not of will.  Bris. 
Thou best of Sisters! ever call me slave  
To all thy Virtues, if thou dost but this.  Bell. 
Sir, I dare promise nought, I'll do my best.  [Exit. Bris. 
So does the Merchant that in one rich freight  
Ventures his whole Estate, expect return,  
Sails in his mind o'er waves as troublesome  
As his fair Ship doth in the greatest storm,  
Which if it scape, returning richly home,  
He fearless is of storms in time to come.  [Exit  

ACT 3. SCENE 1.  Enter Boutefeu, Malignii. Bout. 
'Sdeath, I care not, I,  
For him nor all his anger,  
Let him be pleased again.  
If that he be displeased without a cause.  Mal. 
He says ye are a Horse,  
A thing unfit for human conversation,  
And of so lewd a Tongue,  
No woman you once spoke to e'er could scape ye.  Bout. 
But I dare venture, Sir, a thousand Crowns  
You'll hardly get him for to tell me this.  Mal. 
Not but he's stout enough, but 'twould displease  
The Colonel (to quarrel here) and that he will not do;  
He said, he'd give the world for an occasion.  Bout. 
And that he shall not want:  
Prithee, dear Major, tell him led see him with  
His Sword in's hand.  Mal. 
Fie, Boutefeu, are you mad?  
Will you thus lay yourself open to your Enemies?  
He is the Colonel's nearest friend;  
And if I be engaged, whom will you have  
To work your business for you?  
Besides, you'll find his coldness straight,  
And you may then occasion find enough  
To make him angry 'twill be much better  
It should come from him.  Bout. 
But how? which way?  
For I do long to chide his Boyissh Censure.  Mal. 
Clairmont to night does give the Ball,  
The Banquet he has sent to fair Charlotte  
Y●●'l find him leading of Bellmont,  
〈…〉 may put some slight upon him,  
As taking her to dance out of his hand,  
Or twenty other things, done, as 'twere, by chance,  
Which he will never suffer.  Bout. 
〈◊〉 suffer! 'Sdeath a shall,  
And thank the doer too, that he may live.  
〈…〉 you, mark but the end of this.  [Exit. Mal. 
Yes, I will mark it, Sir, most heedfully.  
What a hot-brained fool is this?  
He faster runs to ruin than I'd have him;  
〈◊〉 if he kills; Beaupre his ruine's sure;  
If nor, Beaupre most certainly kills him,  
And then I think he'll hardly stay in Town.  
Oh my dear brain, work, work more mischief yet;  
I have it—  
I must needs render him suspicious to  
Brisac; but here is some more caution needful,  
Rashly to run between two such sworn friends  
Is dangerous, nor is Brisac so sottish,  
To judge without some proof of a meant injury:  
Nor must a find me tripping, if he do,  
'Tis I must welcome then a double Foe.  
But ere my hopes to sad despair be hurled,  
I'll open War declare 'gainst all the world.  [Exit. Enter Bellmont, Charlotte as in a Garden. Bell. 
But let me begto know your nearest thoughts,  
For friendship in all men grows up by trust,  
And sure 'mongst women it is much the same.  Charl. 
Begin to show example in this kind,  
For I do know your thoughts so noble are,  
That they are sit to take example by,  
And 〈…〉 be a Learner.  Bell. 
Of me? 〈◊〉, Sister, now you do abuse your friend.  Charl. 
Indeed I never mean it:  
What shall we talk of? for I do believe  
That all the world to us is so indifferent,  
We shall like no discourse but of ourselves.  Bell. 
I fear so too:  
But I have a Brother that I must love,  
〈◊〉 he deserves it from me.  Char. 
Heigh: I have a Father too, but these are Kindred.  Bellm. 
'Tis true: but come, I'll trust ye with a story.  Charl. 
You will oblige me;  
Besides, I'll promise secrecy.  
And if in aught I ever can but serve you,  
I shall esteem myself most happy.  Bell. 
That you shall judge when you have heard me out.  
There is a man that's near related to me,  
That loves the fairest Virgin in the world,  
His love began with the first sight of her,  
But has been seldom blessed with that fair sight,  
And knowing too that he can ne'er deserve her,  
Loves much, hopes little, and dare never owned.  Char. 
Alas! I pity him.  Bell. 
I wish you did.  Char. 
Why can you think that any thing near you  
Shall ever want my wishes for his good?  
But pray ye on; Why can he ne'er deserve her?  Bell. 
Not but their Qualities are very equal,  
But she is fair and good above the common.  Char. 
Is he not virtuous too?  Bell. 
He is believed of all to be so:  
Nor would I pity him, if I did doubt it,  
But there be great opposers to his good.  Char. 
A brave good man needs never fear a Rival.  Bell. 
His modesty (a sign where virtue dwells)  
Persuades him still he is not good enough  
To be beloved by the fair Charlotte.  Char. 
How? prithee, dear Sister, leave me.  
How seriously she kept her countenance?  
None to abuse but your poor Servant thus?  Bell. 
Trust me, I do not jest, Charlotte;  
And did you know but half so much as I,  
You would afford much pity, if not Love.  Char. 
Who e'er it be, h'as found a cunning Orator,  
And one 'bove all the world that has most power with me:  
But give me leave to speak as freely to you,  
And censure not my freedom as a guilt,  
For I have such a great opinion of ye,  
That I durst tell you all my Souls affections;  
I do love, nay, love extremely,  
And one that is nearly related to you;  
One too, that never yet did speak of Love,  
Nor do I think he can mean any to me;  
If it prove he, I shall most gladly hear you;  
If not, then, dear Bellmont, I'll beg  
You ne'er will speak, to move my just refusal,  
For I can never love another man.  Bell. 
'Tis poor Brisac, may he e'er hope for mercy?  Char. 
Pray hear me, for I do resolve  
To be most free and open with ye;  
You are o'th'Sex, and equally concerned  
To keep all things within the sacred Rule  
Of Friendship, and of Maiden-modesty.  
You know it were unfit that men should know  
When we are easily conquered.  Bell. 
Leave that to my discretion:  
But tell me first, is it Brisac?  Char. 
It is, O 'tis!  
But may I take your word that he loves me?  Bell. 
You may; nay, do not hide your face,  
D' ye think I'll vent the freeness of your talk?  
You shall see how discreetly I'll manage him;  
For though he be my Brother,  
Yet you're a Woman, and my dearest friend.  Char. 
Use me with care as e'er you hope for good,  
And construe not too hard my confessed weakness;  
Remember 'twas your Brother conquered me.  Bell. 
Your freeness speaks how innocent you are,  
Far more than all tricks of a forced dissembling.  Char. 
I hope you will believe so, pray, Sister, do.  Bell. 
Come, come, indeed I will.  Char. 
Lord how shall I look? would I had not told you.  Bell. 
Nay, why so? you are unkind in this,  
He shall not know how much you have confessed,  
And yet I'll give him hopes enough to court ye.  [Exeunt. Enter Malignii, Luyson. Mal. 
That's my good Wench.  
Thou know'st I ever loved thee.  Lu. 
What would you have me tell you, 〈◊〉  
I cannot, nor I will not feign a Lie.  Mal. 
But 'tis impossible thou shouldst see nothing▪  
How wert thou wont to find them?  Lu. 
What ends have you in this?  
I thought when you came so privately,  
It was to use some of your former sleights  
For the undoing of a harmless Maid.  
O you're a fine Gentleman, and kept your word well with 〈◊〉  Mal. 
Trust me, I love thee dearly, Wench,  
And that e'er long thou'lt find too;  
But things are not yet as they should be.  Lu. 
What things? what should be?  
O the dissembling of you men!  
When ye have once had your ends,  
Ye care not a pin for us Women.  Mal. 
Fie, Luyson, do not think so.  
But prithee tell me, Wench,  
Did they never send thee away on sleeuless errands?  Lu. 
Nor that I remember, but I have often left them  
Alone together.  Mal. 
That's my good Girl:  
And didst thou never find Letters?  Lu. 
Not I indeed, Sir, why d'ye ask?  Mal. 
I have a reason for it,  
Which much concerns thy good;  
If thou canst possibly, prithee get thy Lady  
To walk here when 'tis late to night,  
When that the Ball is done, for coolness.  Lu. 
I'll do any thing you'll have me,  
But pray be not you the cause that 〈…〉,  
And remember what you so long have promised.  Mal. 
I will indeed, Luyson, this kiss, and farewell.  [Exeunt Luyson, Malignii. Enter Brisac. Malignii. Bris. 
I am glad I have met with you, for I was alone; have you seen Beaupre lately?  Malig. 
No Sir: but I was seeking you.  Bris. 
Me Major? what's thy business honest Malignii?  Malig. 
My duty first of waiting on you, than a mind I had  
To talk in private wi' ye 'bout a business.  Bris. 
Though I am much unfit for business now,  
Yet thee I'll hear at any time.  Malig. 
Pray Sir, d'ye think I love you?  Bris. 
Why dost thou question it?  
Indeed I do?  Malig. 
And don't you know't hath been my chiefest care  
To mind what does concern you and your good?  Bris. 
I ever had but just opinion of you.  Malig. 
Certainly then a Looker on may see  
More at all games, than those that are in play.  Bris. 
When they do understand the game, they may.  Malig. 
Right:  
Then freely let me tell you Sir, you're wronged.  Bris. 
Wronged? by whom?  
'tis base to do it so, that I should miss the knowledge.  Malig. 
Those that dare do injuries to friends,  
Dare ne'er suspect that they should understand it.  
Beaupre 's your friend, he might have told you on't.  Bris. 
By Heaven I know he would, as soon as you,  
Did he but once suspect it.  Malig. 
Why Sir this heat to me?  
I have never deserved it from you.  Bris. 
Pardon me Malignii,  
But whom you name my Friend,  
And tax him with a want of care to me,  
It troubles me.  
Pray to the business; for I know he knows it not.  Malig. 
Better than any man.  Bris. 
Come you are mistaken—  
I know him better—  
If you once suspect his friendship to me,  
I justly may suspect all what you say.  Malig. 
I ha' done Sir.  Bris. 
How done? will you not tell me then  
Where I am wronged?  Malig. 
You will not hear me Sir.  Bris. 
Faith but I will: methinks it does concern me.  Malig. 
Know ye of no addresses made to your Sister?  Bris. 
Not I  Malig. 
Then they are concealed it seems.  Bris. 
It seems so; but if they honourable be,  
Why should I be concerned?  Malig. 
'Twere fit you knew it though,  
Women are things that may be overcome,  
And need sometimes a Brother's Counsel.  Bris. 
Why then you do suspect my Sister's Virtu?  Malig. 
Not I, by all that's good:  
And yet I would not have her wronged.  Bris. 
Nor shall she be by the best he that Breathes.  Malig. 
Promise me then you will with strickest Eye  
Observe all things that may concern her,  
You'll find who then is most your friend,  
And who's the franker dealer with you, ay,  
Or those that heedfully do blind your Eyes,  
More at this time you shall not get from me:  
But when your knowledge beginneth to be touched,  
You'll harken to me better, and take Counsel.  Bris. 
I'll do so now;  
Good Major, tell me what thou knowest.  Malig. 
By Heaven not I:  
And yet you sha'not scape the knowledge.  Bris. 
But 'twill be kindlier done, if't comes from thee.  Malig. 
Not I; why should I venture for the name  
Of making Enmity betwixt two men?  
Ye are too great for me to come between,  
And Joining once again I'm crust to nothing.  Bris. 
Shall I receive no more injury mean time,  
For want of this same Knowledge?  Malig. 
No, I'll take care for that.  
Farewell: Yet Colonel look about ye,  
I say no more: When ye get a glimpse  
Come to me, I'll help your Sight somewhat further.  [Exit. Malig. Bris. 
What Devil is't he Aims at?  
This fellow is so Jealous in his nature,  
All that he looks on is so magnyfied,  
That what tother's seems a Moat, to him  
Appears a Mountain;  
Beaupre else, as well as he could spy it.  
You are too great for me to come between;  
Sure then 'tis no mean man does Court my Sister.  
Ha! lairmont the General has often been  
Assiduous in his visits to her; and now Courts  
The fair Charlotte; Curse of all fools, 'tis he;  
I, I, 'twas he that Malignii did mean,  
He Courts my Mistress too, Why here's occasion?  
I'm glad of that yet; for I ne'er shall brook a Rival.  
Yet sure he durst not wrong my Sister.  
For Frenchmen freely visit whom they like  
For Wit or Entertainment, without a Scandal.  
Here she is, I'll know the Worst on't.  Enter Bellmont. Bellm. 
Brother, you're well met.  
I ha' news for you.  Bris. 
And Sister I have some for you.  Bellm. 
For me dear brother? what is't?  Bris. 
Nay, let me hear yours first,  
Mine may be told at Leisure.  Bellm. 
You know what you enjoined me to,  
I have been no ill Orator.  Bris. 
How dear Bellmont? does she know I love her,  
And is she not offended at that Knowledge?  Bellm. 
Not much, I have appeased all;  
You have free leave to visit, and to talk:  
But use this Liberty with much discretion,  
I am engaged for 't.  Bris. 
With the same Rreverence I would call  
Upon a Patron Saint, I still shall crave  
Her goodness to me. But prithee tell me Sister,  
D'you think she ever will Love me?  
May be her friendship unto you  
Has gained this bounty for me.  Bellm. 
There is some liking too of you:  
You else had gone without it.  
But you have got a powerful Rival,  
Not with her; but one who gaineth once the Father's mind,  
Boldly attacks the Daughter without Control.  
Therefore be you discreet.  Bris. 
In that I will be governed still by you;  
But pray you tell me Sister, is't not Clairmont  
That you do mean?  Bellm. 
Yes Sir.  Bris. 
I h've heard that he did once pretend to you.  Bellm. 
A gallantry, nothing else Sir.  Bris. 
But Sister make not so slight on't,  
For 'tis much taken notice of.  
And I dare force him still to do you reason.  Bellm. 
Me? Alas I can claim none of him,  
Nor would I, if I could.  Bris. 
The man's not so inconsiderable Sister.  Bellm. 
O Brother▪ let me beg, you'll take  
Some other way to rid you of a Rival,  
Make not me suffer all the effects of hate  
For your great Love.  
There's nothing I would wave to do you service,  
But this I beg, you nere will mention more.  Bris. 
So much aversion must needs spring from wrong.  
I will ne'er force thee Sister. Come let's in—  [Exeunt. Enter Host and his Wife. Host. 
Nay, pret he weep not Chuck▪ I'll warrant thee there's no body will take the house off their hands, now we have left it.  Wife. 
But what an inhuman dog to turn us our just when these blades were come to Town? O the Tearing Customers we should have had  Host. 
No matter, no matter, God's sprecious they cannot hinder let me my standing on the Kings ground, and we will vent our Merchandize here in 〈◊〉 their Noses; Set down the Table Chuck, there, there, so, lay the stools under it.  
Po●●s let's be merry for all this Cluck.  
Hang sorrow. 〈◊〉 will kill a Cat.  Wife. 
Truly Husband I believe that's the reason ours died this morning.  Host. 
Away, Woman, away—  Sings. 

When as King Peppin ruled in France,  
A King of wundrous Might,  
He that could the Coranto dance,  
Was straight ways made a Knight.   
If any pass this way, I'm sure they'll stop, For here's man's meat, and woman's meat; Thou for the men, and I for the women; At the Sign of St. Anthony's Pig.  Wife. 
But why have you changed the Sign we had before? St. Lewis is as much respected in this Country.  Host. 
ay, but you know the Prodigall child thrust out of doors, kept Company with pigs (good wife) and sows.  Wife. 
●Tis true, and with hogs (good husband) and hogs.  Host. 
Away thou Cockatrice; peace here's company.  Enter Colignii, Delpeche, Mariane, Lamarch, Francibell. Sings. 

please you Mounsieurs Entertain  
The Damoisels ye bring,  
Here's Cheer here, I here ne'er was such in Spain,  
And Wine would Fox a King.   

Here's Capons that from Bruges came  
In post for expedition,  
And Veal so white, that none in Gant  
Can come in Competition.   

Here's Salad mystic savour has  
As mystic as the colour,  
A Lover being put to grass,  
Picked it against Love's dolour.   

Here's vin de Bon, vin de Champaing  
And vin de Celestine,  
And here is that they call Bouru,  
Which to Love's Sports incline.   
Sa, Sa, Mounsieurs, what have you a mind to?  Colig. 
Odd's my life, Gentlemen, here is the bravest fellow I ever read of in all my Travels; Pray friend, what show do you represent?  Host. 
Show Sir?  Coli. 
ay, show Sir, does that offend you? Uds fish, I care not a fart an' you be offended at show Sir.  
What do you wear that in your hat for, Sir,  
If it be not for a snow Sir, ha?  Host. 
Why, for a Sign Sir.  Colig. 
For a Sign? why are you the Post?  
Ha, ha, ha, ha, a very good jest, did not I put a very good jest upon him Gentlemen?  Host. 
Yes you did, a very good jest, ha, ha, ha, 'twas a very good jest i'faith Gentlemen.  Colig. 
Why so it was Sir, for all your sneering.  Host. 
Why so I thought Sir, 'tis very strange you will be so angry without cause.  Franc. 
So, so, Gentlemen, my Brothers taken up.  D'elpe. 
ay, I, let him alone, let's mark 'em.  Colig. 
Why Sir without a cause? I was angry at something, I was angry at a post, and there you have it again, ha, ha, ha, ha.  Host. 
I'm glad you are pleased again; for I find your Wits riding post, ha, ha, ha, ha.  Colig. 
A pig, a pig, a pig, ha, ha, ha.  Host. 
'Tis the Sign of the Pig, and I'm the Master of the Cabaret, which shall give you most Excellent content.  Colig. 
sayst thou so honest fellow? faith thou art a very merry honest fellow; Sisters, I'll treat you, and these Gentlemen, at this Cabaret he talks of; Prithee honest Friend where is this Cabaret? for I long to be in Cabaret.  Host. 
Why here Sir, sit down at this Table, And call for what you will.  Delpe. 
How's this, how's this? 'Sdeath are you one of Urganda's Squires? pray friend whence shall the meat, and wine come?  Lamar. 
From Tripoli on a Broomstick.  Host. 
Pray Gentlemen, hinder me not the Custom of the young gallant; Entreat but these Ladies to sit down, and break my head If you be not well treated, I'll desire no favour.  Colig. 
Nor no money neither, I hope Sir.  Host. 
Truly I won't; if you be not pleased above expectation, Ne'er Trust one again of my profession.  Delpe. 
Faith Ladies this may prove worth our Curiosity; Come we will sit down.  Maria. 
What you please Sir.  Colig. 
That's my good Sister; Come, come, La Couvert la Convert.  Lamar. 
This begins to look like something, he's bravely stuffed I'll warrant you, he is so well hung.  Colig. 
Now Sir, a cold breast of your delicate white Veal.  Host. 
Here you have it Sir.  Colig. 
Nay, nay, and a salad, good Sir, a salad.  Host. 
Well Sir, I must untruss a point.  Colig. 
How Sir, to give us a salad? why have you been at grass?  Delpe. 
Why d'ye want a boiled salad Mounsieur?  Lamar. 
Before St. Lewis an Excellent Trimming, I'll ha' my next Suit, that I go into the Campaign with, trimmed all with Sasages.  Maria. 
'Twill make many a hungry Soldier aim at you.  Colig. 
Well thought on i'faith Sir. Come friend, a Dish of Sasages, a dish of Sasages.  Host 
Why look you Sir, this Gentleman only mistook the placing, these do better in a belt.  Franc. 
A strange fellow this.  Delpe. 
ay, is it not? come Sir, wine we see you have: Prithee let's taste the best.  Host. 
That you shall Sir; If you'll hear Music, and a Song with't, I'm ready: you shall want nothing here.  Sings. 
Ye may Tipple, and Tipple, and Tipple all out,  
Till ye baffle the Stars, and the Sun face about.  Delpe. 
Away with your Drunken songs, have you nothing fitter to please the Ladies?  Host. 
Yes Sir.  Delpe. 
Come away with it then.  Host Sings. Colig. 
Most Excellent isaith! Here's to thee honest fellow with all my heart, nay stay a litle, this is very good Wine: here's to thee again— hark you honest fellow, let me speak with you aside. D'ye Count here by pieces or d'ye treat by the head?  Host. 
I'll treat by the head Sir, if you please; a Crown a head, and you shall have excellent cheer, Wine as much as you can drink.  Colig. 
That's honestly said; you know my father friend, tis monsieur Cortaux.  Host. 
Yes Sir, the famous Scrivener here of Tours.  Colig. 
Well, 〈◊〉 us 〈◊〉 well, I'll see thee paid.  Host. 
Nay Sir, I'll see myself paid, I'll warrant you, before you and I 〈◊〉.  Colig. 
I 〈…〉 friend, but prithee speak not a 〈…〉 then you quite disgrace, Sir, your 〈…〉.  Host. 
〈…〉 wise is enough.  Colig. 
〈…〉 Friend where's the Capon of Bruges you 〈…〉?  Host. 
Here at hand Sir, Wife undo my Helmet, this, Sir,  
Is my Crest.  D'elp. 
A very improper one for a married man.  Colig. 
Yes faith and troth, he should have had horns, ha, ha, ha,  
Here's to ye noble Captain, a very good jest  
As I am a Gentleman▪  D'elp. 
I thank you Sir!  Colig. 
Me thinks you are melancholy, Sir!  La'ma. 
Not I Sir, I can assure you: Lady's how  
Like ye the sport, an odd Collation, but well  
Contrived.  Fran. 
The contrivance is all in all.  Maria. 
What makes my Brother kneel, look, look Sister.  Colig. 
Here's a health to our noble Colonel,  
Gentlemen, ye see 'tis a good one!  D'elp. 
Yes, and a large one, but if both drink it  
How shall we lead your Sister's home!  Colig. 
No matter, Hem: here 'tis Gentlemen, super Naculum  
Come, come a Tansy Sirrah quickly.  D'elp. 
Has posed ye there mine Host.  Host. 
That's as time shall try, look ye here Sir.  
The lining of my Cap is good for something.  La'mar. 
Faith this was unlooked for.  D'elp. 
S'fish I think all his apparel is made of commendable  
Stuff; has he not Ginger-bread-shoes on.  Host. 
No truly Sir: 'tis seldom called for in a Tavern,  
But if ye called for a dish of Pettitoes, 'twere  
But plucking off my Wife's Buskins.  Fran. 
We'll rather believe then try.  Colig. 
'Sfoot, I'll puzzle him now; a Chamber-pot,  
Quickly Sirrah, a Chamber, O O O, quickly.  Host. 
Here Sir, You see it serves for a good Cap with  
Feathers in't. This won't do, do you're worst:  
Gallant I'll fit ye; call for what ye please.  Colig. 
Nay I've no need on't, faith thou art a brave  
Fellow: Here's mine Host's health Gentlemen.  D'elp. 
Could you procure these Ladies a dish of Cream  
Sir, this will show your Masterpiece!  Host. 
'Tis the only weapon I fight at; look ye  
Gentlemen the thunder has melted my sword  
In the scabbard, But 'tis good, taste it.  D'elp. 
thoust my Verdict to be the wonder of Hosts,  
Shalt have a Patent for't if I have any  
Power at Court.  La'mar. 
This is excellent, Monsieur Colignii, I'll pledge You his health now.  Colig. 
Why Sir, would you not have it otherwise?  La'mar. 
What if I would not, Sir?  Colig. 
Then I would have made you, Sir.  La'mar. 
Nay now thouart down, 
Colignii falls he rises drunk.  prithee sleep,  
Or rise and take the Hosts Wife to dance.  Colig. 
So I can Sir for all you!  Fran. 
Lord! how soon he got drunk!  Host. 
Why I told him he might drink as much as he Would, and ye see he has clawed it.  D'elp. 
Prithee, honest friend, play us a Dance, Come faith, Ladies, let's be merry.  Mari. 
As Crickets we, Come Sister!  La'mar. 
Some say the World is full of holes! 
La'mar. sings.   
Play that friend.  Fran. 
I do, do (though the Tune and Song be very witty And old) the Dance is very pretty and new.  The Dance. Fran. 
Truly I am very weary.  La'mar. 
We'll sit and repose.  Maria. 
O Lord, Sister, you know the Ball is to night,  
We must go home first, to adjoust ourselves.  D'elp. 
We'll wait on you Madam, 
Whispers.  Fellow.  Host. 
I dare not, Sir, this Gentleman has commanded the Contrary.  D'elp. 
Well come then Ladies, friend have you a care  
Of him.  [Ex. D'elp. La'mar. Fran. Maria. Host. 
I shall Sir,  
A most special care, I'll warrant ye. a  
I'll first get him out of the way, to sleep himself sober.  Colig. 
What would you have friend?  
Prithee reach a pillow.  Host. 
Troth you have posed me now Sir;  
But if you'll rise, here 'tis; carry it yourself,  
Come we'll go sleep in the shade,  
Wife take up the Table and stools,  
Come I'll help you.  Colig. 
Come, come a long boys,  
Valiant and strong boys— hoop hay boys.  [Exeunt. Enter Beaupre, Bellmont. Bell. 
My Brother, Sir, is infinitely kind,  
For I have done him service.  Beaup. 
And be you infinitely careful too Bellmont,  
For there be Tongues; most wicked Tongues.  Bell. 
None that dare ever wrong my dear Beaupre,  
And for myself,  
I ne'er shall shame the owning of my Love.  Beaup. 
I fear you do not understand me right,  
And yet I am glad you do not too,  
For Innocence, in what I mean, looks lovely,  
And Ignorance here, more beauteous is then knowledge.  Bell. 
I am so far from knowing what you mean,  
That I can't guests it, Sir,  
For heavens' sake tell me, what is't,  
Have I offended? I will beg a pardon  
Not for my will, but my unwilling fault.  Beaup. 
I hope you need none:  
But dear Bellmont be careful,  
Remember who and whose you are;  
Plague o' this Dog, how does he make me talk!  aside 
Nay, be not melancholy;  
'Twas not of you I spoke,  
But something I have heard to day,  
And of a Virgin too, so Innocent,  
That after it I ne'er shall think one Free  
From slanderous Tongues.  Bell. 
Yet I may hope to be the only free;  
Since I will ne'er the least occasion give;  
If it appear to all the World a Malice  
'Twill be a foil to set my Virtues off,  
Or rather yours; For all I have of good is so;  
And may the Heavens still make me fitter for you,  
Or take my life, ere I unfitting grow  
To cope with that fair worth and honour in you.  Beaup. 
O thou best of Women!  
Make me not blush too much, because  
You did not understand my secret meaning  
My thoughts were hurried and I angry grew  
To think on men's blaspheming Tongues  
Against so fair an Innocence!  Bell. 
Who is it, Dear Beaupre, that is so wronged?  
I will grow angry too; for we're concerned  
In all that's good and Virtuous to defend 'em,  
It were as great a sin  
To leave a Cause, the gods should undertake:  
Nay, they at last will bless it, and us too  
For siding with it.  Beaup. 
It shall be still my prayer:  
But dear Bellmont, after the Ball is done;  
I'll slip into the Garden, pray come to me:  
From whence we may Contrive,  
How I may get into your Chamber,  
You will not scrupulous grow, to meet me now  
At these late hours of night.  Bell. 
Indeed I ought to be most scrupulous;  
Should any see't; the Censure they would give  
(Not knowing what has past) my fame undone,  
And what we after say, not be believed.  Beaup. 
I can't blame your care:  
But here it grows too nice,  
Will you not trust me with your actions now?  
I to myself will answer all that happens.  Bell. 
You may command me any thing,  
I'll do my duty and not fail to come.  [Exeunt. Enter Clairmont and Charlotte. Clairm. 
But Madam, may I never hope,  
By my assiduous and most humble service  
To gain an interest in your Inclination?  
Tell me but what you'll have me be?  Charl. 
Yourself my Lord!  
And think me as I am:  
Too much below your least consideration.  Clairm. 
'Twere blasphemy in any man to say so,  
And much unkind in you it is:  
But like to Notes, when as they nearest are,  
And not the same.  
They sound so differently, that one would think  
Those farthest, which with one small turn,  
Agree in all, and frame one harmony  
Fairest Charlotte, can nothing, nothing move ye▪  Charl. 
Yes my Lord!  
You do, to tell you freely all my thoughts:  
For I do honour much your worthy person;  
But when you talk of Love,  
It is by me so little understood,  
That all the explanation you ere give  
Will never make me knowing in the Language.  Clairm. 
Will you then give me leave  
To try your Father, he can better speak,  
And having spoken be better understood,  
By one who is his Daughter, and obedient,  
I can't dislike this Maiden Backwardness  
Loath to bestow yourself, without his knowledge.  Charl. 
That I esteem you honourable,  
My Lord you now shall see; since I dare beg  
A Boon; and a strong Boon it is to beg  
You being young (and as you say) most loving,  
Call then those virtue's to your aid  
That you are Master of,  
And I conjure you by them all,  
That you ne'er press my Father in this business,  
You may command a thousand hearts,  
Do not then plunder mine.  
Or make use of Authority to force it;  
'Twill not be worth your owning if you do,  
For 'twill be broke, most miserably broke.  Clair. 
Then 'tis Aversion, not a Maidens blush,  
That makes you thus deny me!  Char. 
Indeed you are too blame to call it so,  
I know you would not have me lie  
And pay your real with one that's feigned,  
My Friendship and my best respects  
You ever shall command,  Clair. 
It was unjust to cause me to love so much  
When I want wherewithal to make you kind!  
But promise to be just in this,  
Endeavour but as much as ere you can,  
(Since you will have it so)  
To love you less.  
Thus you going forward, and I going back,  
Perchance at last we may much nearer grow  
For did I let mine be as now it is  
The Flame of all the world could ne'er arrive  
To such a Height,  
And I the lighted Beacon  
A Torrent unto ruin, blaze alone.  Char. 
'tis I, my Lord, that must complain of Fate  
That see such Virtues in a mind?  
So rich a present as a heart like yours  
And have not one, wherewith to pay the bearer.  Clair. 
And must I suffer all this Torment too  
That you would grateful be, yet say you can't!  
O ye Gods, forbid Charlot to fro un upon my action,  
And I will send ten Thousand Rivals to ye  
Were they made up in one;  
For they must sure be blessed that can gain  
Th' affections of so fair a Virgin here!  Char. 
The Gods are juster, Sir, then to permit  
You should do harm to what did never wrong ye  
He ne'er laid claim to what you could call yours.  Clair. 
But he has robbed me of my souls delight  
Such Treasure as the world compared to it  
Would fall so short of all comparison,  
As none but fools would ever offer at it  
And yet I cannot blame him,  
To make so fair a prize of this  
Who would not Pirate turn, 'gainst man and heaven?  Char. 
O fie! my Lord!  
Spare heaven, who can revenge its wrongs.  Clair. 
Th'●ve ta'en you from me, Punishment too great  
For all I hope I ever shall commit.  
But Madam shan't I know  
The happy object of your Care?  Char. 
When I do find you better tempered  
I'll tell you, and I hope you'll love him too  Clair. 
I'll study still to please you if I can.  Char. 
My Lord! Here comes Company.  Enter D'elpech, 
TOWN.  leading Mariane, La' March Francibell, to them Boutefeu. Mari. 
I fear we are too late,  
'Twill be uncivil if they have begun.  Delp. 
No, no, I'll warrant you.  
Boutefeu, how dost man?  
Thou hast lost the best Comedy:  Bout. 
I care not, I.  La' Ma. 
Here Sir, handy dandy, which hand will you have  
For I see your Worship's in a scurvy humour!  
Why what a Devil ail'st thou man?  Bout. 
Prithee, Lafoy March, let me alone,  
I am serious at present.  Fran. 
I fear the humour is not All a Mode at Balls, Sir.  Bout. 
No more is the dress of your head, Madam.  La' Ma. 
Prithee be not so Clownish,  
Thou wert such a pretty fellow, hadst but a little breeding?  Bout. 
Rest ye merry Sir, I have other fish to fry.—  Exit. Delp. 
What the Devil ails he?  Maria. 
Troubled with the Bots, I'll warrant ye.  La' Ma. 
The worm bites; come Ladies here's the House.  Franc. 
Nay Sir, we might hear this House by the Music.  [Exeunt.  

ACT 4.  
SCENE 1.  Enter Clairmont, 
The new Scene of the HALL..  Charlot, Beaupre, Bellmont, Brisac, D'orvile, D'elpeche, Mariane, La'march, Francibel, Boutefeus, Attendants. D'or. 
GAllants and Ladies take your seats.  
Begin Music.  Clair. 
Madam, 
Begin the brawls a little.  methinks this is too grave,  
We are amongst ourselves,  
And are not tied to this same Ceremony.  Char. 
I am glad you are of that opinion Sir.  
I much more like some lighter Dances.  Bris. 
ay, I, Beaupre can lead you many.  Clair. 
But why will not you dance, Colonel?  Bris. 
Truly I seldom do, Pray excuse me, Sir,  
I'll sit and entertaia the Governor.  Chair. 
What you please,  
Come, Monsieur Beaupre, please you begin.  Beau. 
Most willingly, Sir.  The Dance. D'or. 
Most excellent I'saith, come, come, give not over so,  
Some single Dance, any thing to be doing.  Char. 
Nay Sir, pray let them begin for I am out of wind.  Clair. 
Madam, you here are Mistress!  Bout. 
Come Madam! 
Boutefeu takes Bellm, out of Beaup. hand. strikes him, and leaps to his word and 〈◊〉.  I think you are  
Weary Sir.  Beau. 
Uncivil Villain, take that  Bout. 
'Sdeath unhand me, Gentlemen, O the Dog—  Bris. 
Away Churl! such insolence before my face  D'or. 
Fie Gentlemen! thus to disturb our mirth!  Colig. 
Fly Gentlemen, fly! O, if you had seen  
That tall Fellow how he thwacks Fiddlers, you would  
Fly with expedition; have ye a mind to have your Fiddles  
Broke about your Pates?  Fidler. 
Not we! we thank ye  Colig. 
Hang lag, hang lag:  [Exeunt Coligni and Fidlers. Clair. 
Colonel, secure your friend:  
Come Sir, do you not stir from me,  
Have I your parol you will not.  Bout. 
'Tis hard! but since I shall be worse confined,  
Yes, Sir, I give it you.  Clair. 
Come! le's in, the Ladies all are fled in feat!  D'or. 
Nay, Sir, here's one still.  Bris. 
Sister! what made you stay! you might have gained  
Some mischief!  Bell. 
I was afraid to see you 'mongst their swords  
But durst not leave you:  
I hope you are not hurt, Sir:  [to Beaupre. Beau. 
With nothing but his most uncivil usage.  [Exeunt omnes. Enter Malignii, as in the Garden. Malig, 
So, so, this does begin to work:  
And I have watched the issue with such heed,  
As wealthy Fathers that expect an heir  
From their loved Wives to own their fair possession.  
I'm sorry they were hindered from the mischief  
That this might have produced.  
But time will ripen all; and quickly too,  
For Boutefeu will ne'er sleep unrevenged,  
And tother hates him too beyond the common.  
So that, they'll find out ways to act my wishes:  
Now, Love, if ever thou didst Rhetoric teach,  
Learn me a language of that moving force  
That I may touch the fairest Bellmonts heart:  
I wonder she appears not, for that Wench  
I know will work her to this evening walk,  
Minutes do seem Giants as they run;  
But will seem skipping Dwarfs when she is come.  [Exit. Enter Bellmont, Luiison. Bellm. 
Why dost thou shake so, Wench?  
Thanks to heaven, there is no hurt done.  Luii. 
I but, Madam, I was so frighted.  
I cannot hold one joint still,  
Pray, Madam, give me leave to go to my Chamber.  Bellm. 
I prithee do, I dare be here alone:  [Exit. 
I know, if he can get from my Brother, he will come!  Enter Malignii to her. Malig. 
O, there she is,  Bell. 
Who's there? Speak!  Malig. 
The humblest of your servants, Madam!  Bell. 
Malignii, what makes you here so late?  
Is my brother in the Garden?  Malig. 
Not that I know of, Madam,  
But I came to talk with you.  Bell. 
With me? 'bout what?  
I'll but call my woman: Luiison▪  Malig. 
You need not, Madam, straight I'll do't for you.  Bell. 
Pray good Major, what's your business with me?  Malig. 
Cannot you guests? or have you quite forgot  
The humble offers I have long since made you  
Of the most pure and faithfullest affection,  
That man e'er bore to woman?  
The suit is still the same, and I am still  
The miserable same Petitioner,  
'Tis bootless now, I think, for to repeat  
Things I have sworn so often to your ears  
(For there they stopped) and never could get further▪  
I need not swear how much I am in love.  
Since all that see you die of the same passion,  
Nor need I tell how faithful I will prove,  
Since those fair Charms where my soul is fettered  
Can ne'er be broke by any rebel heart.  
What should I tell you then? nothing,  
'Tis not my Queen to tell you what I am▪  
But humbly here to beg what you should be,  
If not for mine, at least for pity's sake:  
Sure mercy dwells in you: for 'tis in heaven.  Bell. 
How often have I told you, Malignii,  
That it was much unfit for me to hear  
Discourses of this Nature?  
Why o'ye trouble me and yourself too?  
A reasonble man would have been answered.  Malig. 
But reason never yet with Love did cope.  Bell. 
Because you want it, o'ye think that I  
Must bar myself the use on't?  
'Tis late, and I blame-worthy, here to hold discourse  
With men alone, Good night, Major:  Malig. 
Stay, Madam, for I've much to say,  Bell. 
To morrow will be fitter for to hear it.  Malig. 
No time so fit as now:  [Holds her. 
Nay, Madam, you must not go as yet!  Bell. 
What rudeness d'ye practise?  
Do you know who I am, and where?  Malig. 
Yes Madam, very well:  
But I am now resolved I will be answered  
In somethings, then trouble you no more.  Bell. 
What means he? Heaven!  [Aside. 
What is it, Sir, you would be answered in?  Malig. 
Is it impossible you e'er can love me,  
If I should work my honour and my name  
To such a pitch, as they might make you greater,  
Give me at least that hope;  
For Lovers think that all is possible,  
Pray Answer, Could you love me then?  Bellm. 
Yes, very much:  
For I extremely Love a growing Virtue  
That shoots men up to Honour and Renown,  
But yet my Love will never tend that way  
That leads to the uniting you and I.  Malig. 
Why, is my person then so odious?  Bell. 
I ne'er examined that;  
But may be 'tis impossible  
There be some other reasons.  Malig. 
And is this all the hope you'll ever give me?  Bell. 
All that you ever must expect from me.  Malig. 
Then Love direct me:  
For I will not die for want of what I now can take.  Bell. 
Help, help— Murder  [Takes hold of her.] Malig 
Nay, you're out of hearing,  
This way, or I'll drag ye.  Lewis. 
within. Madam, Madam, Madam.  Malig. 
〈◊〉 and the Furies stop thy throat:  
The House will rise  [Exit running. Enter Luyson. Bell. 
O Wench, I have been frighted out of my wits,  
That Villain, that damned Villain.  Lewis. 
What Villain, Madam? who was here?  Bell. 
— Maligni. The Monster of all Villainy.  
He would have ravished me.  Lewis. 
The Gods forbid:  
When your Brother hears on't.  
He'll surely kill him.  Bell. 
'tis true, therefore be sure you never speak on't more,  
I too much mischief fear from what to night  
Has happened, come away.  
I ne'er again will walk so late alone  [Exeunt. Enter Maligni. Malig. 
I'm glad of that yet  [Having o'erheard 'em.] 
for 'twas all my fear:  
O this damned foolish Wench to cry so loud.  
The house is up, I hear 'em.  [Draw's his Sword.] Enter two or three Servants, with lights and Swords. Malig. 
Stand! who goes there? what are ye?  Seru. 
O Major, here was such a noise just now  Malig. 
I heard it too▪ come let's seek about.  [Exeunt. Enter Brisac half unready, Servant with a light. Bris. 
What is the matter?  Seru. 
I know not, Sir, I heard your Sister's voice!  Enter Maligni. Bris. 
What is the business, Major?  
Saw you my Sister?  Malig. 
Not I, Sir, where is Beaupre?  Bris. 
I left him in my Chamber:  Malig. 
Are you sure on't?  Bris. 
ay, I, why dost ask?  Malig. 
Nay, for nothing if you left him there,  
You may to bed again, I have been round the Garden.  Bris. 
I'll first to my sister's Chamber  [Exit. Malig. 
And I'll not stay—  
Her mind may alter,  
To morrow I shall learn all from Luyson:  
Plague had he been parted from Beaupre,  
I could at worst have put it all on him  
And swore her down, That I had parted them.  
And she for a pretext had then cried out  Exit. Enter Brisac, Beaup: Belm: Luyson. Bris. 
Nothing Sister, why did you cry out?  Bell. 
Why, I was walking, Sir, to take the air,  
And saw a man, that somewhat frighted me,  Bris. 
You did ill to cause this stir for that.  Beau. 
Women are frightful, Sir, by night;  Bris. 
To bed, dear Sister, all the House will rise  [Ex. Bell: Luyson. 
Come friend, to night you needs must lie with 〈◊〉,  Beau. 
I shall be too much troublesome, I fear.  Bris. 
I know your meaning,  
Nay, I'll not hinder you;  
But take my Counsel in the place and time,  
What Devil made him offer it to you▪  
And to my Sister too,  
Had you two ever any words before?  Beau. 
Not I the least.  
Nor can I guests the meaning?  Bris. 
He was put on, I lay my life;  
Methoughts Clairmont did take much care of him:  Beau. 
I did not mind any thing of that.  Bris. 
I know something more than you think,  
Which I will have account for;  
Besides he is my Rival.  Beau. 
You also know I love you, Sir,  
Therefore be ruled by one that is your friend;  
Seek not a quarrel on a groundless score:  
'Twill be thought ill: however you do fare in't  
If he has wronged you ever; I'll not speak  
One word to hinder what your honour calls for▪  Bris. 
H'as affronted one that's very near me,  
And I will reason have for what is done.  Beau. 
I had an Item given me too of that:  
But those that did it were mistaken, Sir,  
For too my knowledge, he could never wrong her.  Bris. 
H'durst not that—  Beau. 
I do believe so too—  Bris. 
How comes Boutefu so sawoy grown  
Before him, and me too? There's something in't:  Beau. 
There is so—  
But I would not willingly Mistake!  Bris. 
Nor I; The morning shall declare the doubt,  
Or I wear that can find the riddle out.  [Exeunt. Enter D'elpeche, La'March. D'elp. 
I knew the Fool had something in his head,  
〈◊〉 was so sullen grown o'th' sudden.  La' Mar. 
But why he pitch upon Beaupre?  
H'as seen him often on occasion too,  
Where he hath behaved himself with honour.  D'elp. 
Thou! That's not it:  
Though he be young, he 's known a man of worth,  La' Mar. 
H' served me almost the same trick.  D'elp. 
But I think there's scarce that freedom  
Twixt to'ther and him!  La' Mar. 
'Twas ill and foolish in him—  
O Major, how is't why?  
You have hardly been seen of late.  [Enter Malignii. Malig. 
You're happy men! nothing to do,  
Court Ladies, and be fine.  D'elp. 
Indeed your business now is great,  
In Winter Quarters there's much stirring always.  Malig. 
They are not yet well settled, Sir,  
When they are, you shall see me  
Frisk and dance, none so merry?  
But what was the Matter last night, Gentlemen?  D'elph. 
'Tis true, you were not there!  
Why, Boutefeu affronted the Colonel's friend Beaupre.  
And had a knock for 't.  Malig. 
Is that all! rest them merry blades,  
Those that seek work will find some always ready.  D'elp. 
But I am sorry, 't lighted 'mongst ourselves.  Malig. 
So am I too, but who can help it?  
I'll be hanged if Boutefeu did not hate him  
For wearing starch in's Boot-hose Tops,  La' Mar. 
Like enough:  
The gentleman is wondrous moody?  D'elph. 
No, no, he would have forborn there  
There was something stuck closer than that.  Malig. 
If you knew him as well as I,  
You would hardly attribute so much design to him.  La' Mar. 
I dare say he never had any in's life!  Malig. 
Come, Gentlemen, 'tis early, where shall we walk?  D'elp. 
Any where: Let's ride about the works.  Malig. 
'Tis done; The air will do us good,  
Come, La' March, you had rather go visit  
Your Sutler's Wife, I know.—  [Exeunt. Enter Clairmont, Boutefeu. Clair. 
I cannot hinder any Gentleman,  
But, if I might persuade you, Sir,  
You should not quit Employment for such trilles.  Bout. 
'Tis done! nor will I serve  
Under the man that brood's him so.  Clair. 
You know, Sir, Beaupre is a man of courage  
He needs not that: Besides I'll tell you freely,  
The injury was great that you did offer.  Bout. 
I had some reason for't (my Lord)  
You may believe! I am not else so Brutal.  Clair. 
Good Captain, tell it me—  Enter Brisac, Beaupre. Bris. 
Good morning to your Lordship.  Clair. 
Good morrow, Colonel.  Bout. 
Did you receive the paper that I sent you.  Bris. 
I did, Sir, and you are most free!  Bout. 
I thank you, Sir; my Lord I kiss your hand.  Clair. 
Stay; nay I can here confine you for some time;  
Though of Command you have discharged yourself!  Bout. 
If it be'nt long I shall be most obedient.  Beau. 
You need not take such care, aside Boutefeu:  
I shall find time to answer you.  Bout. 
I take your word.  Clair. 
Mounfieur Brisac! I would fain speak with you.  Bris. 
And I did hither come to the same purpose.  Clair. 
Pray answer clearly to what I shall ask.  Bris. 
Your Lordship need not question that.  Clair. 
Do you pretend to the fair Charlot?  Bris. 
I love her, Sir! if you call that pretending.  Clair. 
And do you know she is my Mistress, Sir?  Bris. 
That lies in her disposal—  
But I do know that you make Love to her.  Clair. 
'Tis well.  Bris. 
But come, my Lord, I must examine too,  
Did you ever pretend unto my Sister?  Clair. 
May be I did?  
I am not bound to satisfy demands.  Bris. 
And do you think to raise that Siege,  
And lay it to my Mistress?  Clair. 
Colonel, let's use few words!  
I find we are agreed in what we mean!  Bris. 
How shall we get to be alone!  
If these two leave us, still the thing's the same!  
I know they will be doing.  Clair. 
The place is here most fit, for none can see us,  
And I am pleased with my friend,  
If you are so, there needs no farther Ceremony.  Bris. 
Yes, pray my Lord, 'tis for a Mistress that we sight,  
We'll do it decently,  
Not like the rage that choler works men to.  [strips. Beau. 
What mean you, Sir?  Clair. 
I know by this you understand.  [strips too. Beau. 
Be careful friend of what I love, yourself!  [embraces Bris. 
And where we're both, the world can never win us!  
Monsieur Boutefeu! see Sir, occasion's offered.  Bout. 
And you may see, Sir, I was busy ere you spoke.  Clair. 
Blind Passion is the madman's sat.  
Who strives to conquer Love, by showing hate,  
Come, Sir.  [They fight. Bris. 
How he drills me—  
So cunning at your Weapon, Sir?  
There 'tis I'm sure.  [Clairmont falls. [Closes with Bout. and disarms him. Beau. 
They will have done before me,  
Stir not, or I will nail thee to the earth,  
How is it, Sir?  [to Bris. Bris. 
Well: prithee, look to him  
I fear he's worse.  Clair. 
This care is noble in thee, brave Brisac,  
But comes too late;  
Heaven forgive me, I do freely thee, farewell.  [Eyes. Bout. 
What damned luck have I?  [Exit. Bris. 
Prithee, lend me thy arm;  
Thou art not 〈◊〉 I hope▪  Beau. 
Indeed I am.  Bris. 
Where dear Beaupres.  Beau. 
In every drop that falls from you  
My soul does drop a Tear.  Bris. 
Away with grief, 'tis womanish,  
Lead me to the house, but say you found me so;  
Relate not you were with me in the business,  
There is much danger now that he is dead.  Beau. 
And would you have me leave you single  
In any danger?  Bris. 
What will your ill avail me?  
You being free you will be abler far  
To do me good▪  Beau. 
Out of that hope I will obey you, Sir.  [Exeunt. Host and Coligni having stood behind and seen all that past. Host. 
Here's fine work,  
This is your fault, I would have raised the people.  Colig. 
Why, I did think they had been in drink,  
Tother day I'm sure I was drawn upon  
By men in drink, but they did no hurr,  
Only kicked some Fiddlers, and so forth.  Host. 
You told me  
You knew they were in jest;  
Here's fine jesting marry,  [lifts Clair. head. 
Nay, he's gone, cold as earth.  Colig. 
Why, let him go, 'twas none of our faults,  
H'might ha' looked better to himself,  Host. 
Alack poor Gentleman,  
Who were the other three that went away?  Colig. 
I saw no body; I,  
Are you mad? will you say you saw any body,  
And make yourself a party?  Host. 
Why will that make me a party,  
Ha' you Law for what you say?  Colig. 
Yes, marry have I!  Host. 
Why, I'll say I have seen no body this two days then.  Colig. 
ay, I, do!  
So, so, than he can never recover the reckoning of me:  [aside. Host. 
But who shall we say hurt him?  Colig. 
Why, say he hurt himself upon Chance Medley.  Host. 
Well, do you look to't; I'll say what you bid me.  Colig. 
Then be sure you say, you see him hurt himself!  Host. 
We had better be gone and say nothing!  Enter two or three Servants. Seru. 
Who are ye?  Colig. 
We? why, we are men as you are!  Seru. 
How long have you been here?  Host. 
Not very long.  Colig. 
Yes, but we have! what then?  Seru. 
Were you by when this Lord fell?  Host. 
We were by when he hurt himself  
With Chance-medley!  Colig. 
Honest friends, this fellow lies:  
We came just when he had hurt himself!  Seru. 
How's this? how's this?  
Come, come away with them, here's backwards and forwards;  
The Governor will have the truth out on ye,  
I'll warrant ye;  
Come, help Sirrah to lift the body.  [Exeunt: Enter Charlot, Bellmont. Char. 
Hold, hold, Bellmont, 'tis now my part  
To lay the Treasure out of all my Tears,  
'Twas not your Rhetoric, but 'twas he that gained  
The full possession of the heart you spoke for,  
And I will drown this house in such a flood  
Shall speak my passion, and how much I loved.  Bell. 
O, envy not my eyes this mournful ease▪  
Who else would burst; Poor Brother.  Char. 
O my Brisac, if thou shouldst leave me now,  
How should I wander in the dark of Love?  
No Ghost without a Tomb so miserable.  Bell. 
Whilst there be hopes  
Why should we 〈…〉,  
And throw Ourselves 〈◊〉 his sea of grief,  
Before the Vessel's sunk, our hopes are stored in.  Charl. 
〈◊〉 heart a little, for I would not be  
Inconstant in my dying,  
I'd live to love him, still he did leave me.  Bell. 
I hope your Loves may lasting prove,  
And interchanged 〈◊〉 so here,  
And that this il-looked 〈◊〉 is but a Scene  
To represent what you at last must suffer,  
He or you, leaving th'other here behind,  Char. 
heavens' take me first, then order me to guard  
Him from all ill.  Bell. 
Come! dear Charlot,  
Let us inquire with haste  
The Oracle of our ensuing fate  
Which by this time the Surgeon here can give us.  Charl. 
Propitious be, O Heaven!—  Exeunt D'lpech, La' March. La' Mar. 
So is our Colonel too,  
I fear he'll follow.  D'elp. 
The heavens forbid:  
Yet if he scape his hurts  
I doubt it may go hard with him at Court,  
Knowing th' other's greatness!  La' Mar. 
I hope not,  
His Services may something plead for him  
Besides we hence can make his way  
To some securer place (having more health)  
Till he has got his pardon from the King.  D'elp. 
I would do any thing to serve him,  
Come le's go see how things are?—  Exeunt▪ Enter Guard, Coligni, Host. Guard. 
There walk you two there, till the Governor comes,  
Come Gentlemen, we'll lock'em 〈◊〉— Exit Guard.  Host. 
So now we are in a sine pickle,  
This comes of your Chance-medley,  
A Medler close thy chops when thou 'rt dying,  
Indeed, Squire, I mean that they call a Meddler,  
Is this your Law!  
I could have found out a better  
Trick of Law myself then this.  Colig. 
Prithee! what a simple fellow this is,  
What trick of the Law could you have found out?  Host. 
Why, run away, when we first saw what came on't  
For he that runs away, they say, has the Law on his side!  Colig. 
Why, who the Devil would ere have suspected,  
That they should take two civil men Prisoners.  Host. 
You said just now that I was a simple man,  
But I'll be judged by all this Company,  
Who is the simpler fellow, you, or I  Colig. 
I'll not enter into the List of Comparisons  
with any below my own rank:  Host. 
I must be a rank fool then—  
But pray hark ye me, what must I say?  aside 
For I shall be dashed and bashed at the governor's question,  
For all he's an Ass, yet he has some pretty conceits  
As they call it in the law  Colig. 
Why, mark me well;  
We are not suspected to have done the thing ourselves.  Host. 
I think not!  
No, why should they?  Colig. 
He that suspects wrongfully doth himself wrong,  
For slander sly's back in the slanderers face.  Host. 
True, like a man that pisseth against the Wind.  Colig. 
Why, then all that we shall be asked is, who we saw there?  Host. 
Very good, Sir, and you say you don't know.  Colig. 
Prithee peace! I never heard such a hasty fool.  Host. 
Why, I only tell you, what I will say myself!  Colig. 
Why, look ye; there you make yourself a party again,  
They'll think you but dissemble and won't tell.  Host. 
Why, what shall I say then?  Colig. 
Why, name any body, and then let them clear themselves  
As well as they can,  Host. 
Pray tell me who you'll name; for we must not name  
The 〈◊〉 man▪ you must name one and I another.  Colig. 
O no, no, we must both name the same men,  
Or else they'll catch us tripping.  Host. 
ay, the same men we must agree on,  
But you shall name one (as I said) and I another.  Colig. 
Why, I'll name Monsieur D'elpeche our Guest,  
Because he pawned me for the reckoning.  Host. 
Squire, 'twas your own fault.  Colig. 
ay, I, but he might have chose whether he would or no,  
But who will you name?  Host. 
Marry e'en Monsieur La Rock,  
That put me out of my Tenement, I thank him.  Colig. 
He's a cunning Fellow:  
But no matter, Jacta est Alea—  
Said Caesar when he leapt a Ditch.  Enter D'orville, 
〈◊〉 Hearse 〈◊〉 out on a Table.  Attendants, La Barr. D'orv. 
This Object is so cruel that it calls  
Tears from a Soldier's Eyes;  
No Scythian but would weep  
To see so fair a Worth nipped in the Bud.  La Barr. 
H' was my noble Patron, yet my grief  
Suffers increase, because I was not with him:  
I might have hindered this, or fallen too.  
But pray, Sir, let's learn the perfect truth.  [Enter D'elpech, La March. D'orv. 
We will endeavour it.  
Monsieur D'elpech you're welcome;  
And you, brave Captain; see your General's killed,  
And your poor Colonel mortally wounded.  D'elp. 
It grieves us much:  
How came this Accident?  D'orv. 
We cannot tell;  
But Death did ne'er  
Play for a fairer prize and win both slakes.  
Here's two can give account, they saw the business.  
Being those Fellows here.  
Speak Friends, how did this business happen?  Colig. 
And please you, Sir, they came unto the Field,  
Plucked off their Doublets, and they were run through.  Host. 
Yes, an' please you,  
With Chance-medley, I saw it.  D'or. 
How friend, Chance-medley,  
I know not what thou meanst?  Colig. 
Sir, he talks like an Ass,  
Mind him not.  D'or. 
But you that can talk wiser, what say you?  Colig. 
That they all drew and killed one another;  
The iron age methoughts was come again.  D'or. 
Sirrah, leave off your Poetry and speak toth' matter,  
Who were the others that were there?  
Two Swords were found,  
And yet Brisac brought his home.  Colig. 
An't please you, Sir, Mounsieur D'elpech  
Was there for one.  Host. 
And one Monsieur la Rock for another!  D'elp. 
Who, I? what a lying slave is this?  
It is not half an hour since we rose.  D'or. 
Sirrah, are you sure this Gentleman was there?  Colig. 
Yes that I am! nay, Captain ne'er stare!  D'elp. 
Why, thou art drunk still; upon my saith, Sir,  
I have not been abroad before,  
This is my first flight hither.  La'ma. 
I can assure you, Sir, I lay with him,  
And what he says is truth!  D'or. 
Let their Landlord be fetched, I'll ha' this examined,  
And you, Sir, who did you say was there?  Host. 
Monsieur la Rock,  D'or. 
Who is that?  Host. 
H'was my Landlord lately, but he turned me out of  
My Tenement most basely and scurvily.  D'or. 
How came he hither, he's no man o'th' Sword.  Host. 
I know not I, but there he was,  
And you please to give me my Oath, I'll swear't presently,  
And then let him say what he can for himself.  [Enter Cortaux. D'or. 
Have a care I catch you not lying,  
Monsieur Cortaux, welcome;  
Saw you these Gentlemen this morning?  Cort. 
Yes, and please your Honour, one is my Guest;  
But they both lay together this same night.  
What ail'st thou man?  [Colig. winks and pulls him. D'orv. 
How say you, Sir, to this?  Colig. 
Why, my Father's mad or else mistaken.  Cort. 
Thou art mad I think to pinch me so.  D'orv. 
Sirrah! you Rogue! I'll have you to the whipping-post,  
And your Companion too,  
If I do find you wilfully tripping.  Host 
kneels— Hold Sir, I'll confess rather—  Colig. 
What will you confess, that you are an Ass?  D'orv. 
Peace Sirrah!  Host. 
This silly fellow here and I combined  
To accuse Monsieur D'elpech and Monsieur La Rock:  Colig. 
O humane frailty! how weak thou art!  D'orv. 
Your humane frailty shall be tried, Sirrah.  
Away with them straight,  
Let them be soundly lashed.  Cort. 
O mercy, Sir! he is my Heir.  D'orv. 
You might have bred him better.  Host. 
Yes, so he might; nay he shall be whipped for Company;  
That's my comfort; here's chance-medley for you.  [Ex. Colig. Host, Cortaux. D'orv. 
'Tis time Monsieur La Barr must find this out:  
May be the Colonel at last may tell us:  
But I dare swear that he was fairly killed.  La Mar. 
I hope there's none will question that.  
Since our brave Colonel was there engaged.  La Barr. 
There's none will question his fair honour, Sir▪  
Yet I would gladly know  
How I have lost my Patron now, and why.  D'elp. 
It is most reasonable.  D'orv. 
Come, Gentlemen, this body shall 〈…〉  
Where all our duties fitlier may be paid.  Finis Actus Quarti.  

ACT 5. SCENE 1.  Enter D'elpech, La'march, Surgeon. D'elp. 
BUt are there no hopes left?  Surg. 
None, but in Miracles, his Liver is quite pierced.  
And 'tis a wonder he has not bled to death already.  D'elp. 
But that is stopped?  Surg. 
Stopped, alas, Sir,  
To give him time enough to say a Prayer or two;  
He cannot last an hour.  La'mar. 
Trust me, I am much grieved.  D'elp. 
And so am I, he was a worthy brave Gentleman,  
Come, le's go take out last farewell.  [Exeunt. Brisac laid in his Bed, D'orvile, Beaupre, Bellmont, Charlotte, D'elpech, La'mar. D'or. 
How is it, Sir?  Bris. 
The Surgeon best can tell.  D'or. 
May we not learn the full of all this business?  Bris. 
A difference I had with the General,  
What would you learn more,  
Pray, Sir, retire, and take the Company with you,  
I'm weak, and have some business  
I 〈◊〉 would end before I go.  D'or. 
Religion does forbid that we should trouble you,  
Heaven grant your prayers, and make ye happy, Sir.  Bris. 
I thank you, Sir! Nay, friend Beaupre, stay you here;  
And you, Sister, do not leave the room,  
Governor, may I entreat the presence of your Daughter?  
〈◊〉 be my last request.  [Exit D'or. D'or. 
Most willingly! Charlotte, stay you here.  Bris. 
Adieu dear friend, I shall not see you more!  La' Ma. 
May all your hopes prove prosperous,  
I cannot endure to stay and see you thus!  [Exit La March. D'elp. 
And I must leave you like a Girl,  
Blind with my tears:  
I wish I could but do you better service.  [Exit D'elpech. Bris. 
'Tis now too late, and yet I thank you for your wish.  Beau. 
O heavens', must we then part,  
Curse on my hand, it was too slow.  Bris. 
Blame not a thing that did so much;  
Alas, we were all born to die:  
And if we do anticipate the time  
That bearded Elders languish in, we scape  
A thousand miseries that they have surely stooped to.  
Death is a bugbear never feared when known:  
Weep not, dear Sister, I will leave you one  
Shall be a Brother, and a kind one to you:  
Will you not, Beaupre?  Beau. 
You cannot doubt my love to all that's yours;  
But I will not dissemble now the tie  
I have upon me, to be ever kind.  
Shall I have your pardon?  
I would have told it you ere long,  
But hoped for better opportunity  
Than the sad Fates allow me now.  Bris. 
What e'er it be, I do forgive thee freely,  
For I dare sooner doubt my being happy,  
Then that thou e'er didst wrong me in thy friendship.  Beau. 
I am her husband, Sir.  Bris. 
That merits more my thanks then blame,  
For it was to thy dear Arms I would bequeath her.  Bell. 
Heaven meant me nor so great a blessing  
To have you living, and this bounteous gift.  Bris. 
I give her to thee, friend, with all my heart.  
Use her well for her poor Brother's sake;  
And, Sister, be you still to him  
Such, as may make him in you love his friend,  
His poor departed friend:  
So, I hope you two are happy;  
Now to my Love, and then I die in quiet.  Bell. 
Speak not of dying, Sir, it wounds my soul.  Bris. 
Ha, what means that Lady, Sister?  
She weeps, she weeps.  
O, if those tears be but for my misfortune.  
I will not envy Emperors that live;  
But think it greater glory thus to die,  
Pitied by the beauteous good Charlotte.  Bell. 
You are not only pitied but beloved,  
Beyond all what the world contains besides.  [She kneels by him. Bris. 
Mock not my hopes, 'twere double death  
If now I should but find it otherwise.  Char. 
May I then be believed? O my Stars!  
Is this the good you have ordained me?  
Show me such worth,  
To tell me what I've lost.  Bris. 
I know to leave this world is death,  
But I leave more when I leave thee;  
What heaven can I expect hereafter?  
When all the Idea I can e'er receive  
Of happiness, I here do leave behind me;  
Will you be kind unto my memory,  
My dear Charlotte!  
And when your thoughts do entertain themselves  
Of me your servant being gone,  
Remember then, Pray remember often;  
How much your poor Brisac did love you!  Char. 
You speak as it I did intend to leave you.  
No, my Brisac, I will not long outlive you.  Bris. 
O yes! I do conjure you live,  
By all our Love, and then I shall live in you:  
For how should I be cursed of all the world,  
If I deprive it of its chiefest Jewel:  
My soul shall wait upon you here;  
My mind does tell me I shall bear that Office,  
(For I am penitent for all my sins)  
And that will be a glorious station,  
More than I e'er durst hope for;  
But that I guess I have your wishes for't.  Char. 
We'll hand in hand unto the other world,  
And there confirm the union of our souls,  
Than 'twill immortal be and we shan't need  
To fear a fatal separation.  Beau. 
Deny us not, fair Maid, thy company,  
We all must die, and be, I hope,  
Together happy in the other world.  Bris. 
It is not fit any of you should die;  
For when you're gone,  
The world will be neglected, and not own  
A Subject worth a care;  
You shall not think of leaving one another;  
Dear friend, would you thus leave alone  
My dearest Mistress, and your poor Bellmont;  
Charlotte in you may see what I have loved?  
And in her friendship to you think on me.  Char. 
Whilst memory retains a place,  
Or life but motion giveth to my heart;  
Each breath I draw, and every bow I make,  
Shall be for my Brisac:  
The organs of my soul shall frame no sound,  
But what shall echo still my dear Brisac;  
Master of all my hopes and all my joy:  
Poor fickle joy, alas, how soon thou leav'st me?  
Never, O never, to return again!  Bris. 
And you, dear friend, when you shall see that face,  
That much adored person I have loved,  
Pay her the zeal of all your friendship to me;  
And, Sister, as you ever did affect  
Your Brother, turn that kindness all  
To my Charlotte, and to Beaupre your duty.  [Enter Malig: Beau. 
Your Major, Sir, is come to take his leave.  Malig. 
Heavens bless my Colonel! how is't, Sir?  Bris. 
O Beaupre, come hither, I had forgot to tell you;  
But I grow wondrous faint;  
Have a care of Maligni.  
Oh Charlotte, your hand, for I am going;  
Farewell, farewell; I 〈◊〉 no more.  [Dies▪ Beau. 
Farewell the thoughts of worldly things;  
What are the Pomps of greatest Kings?  
But empty titles State foreshow,  
Idols, we make, to which we bow;  
Nothing that's certain here below,  
But death; and certain that we know  
How glorious is the fabric, when,  
Ill to the Maker likens men;  
But this the clearest ever was,  
Retained the brittleness of glass.  Bell. 
Through which we ought to see how fair  
Are Blisses that eternal are;  
Led by persuasion of our blood,  
We here expect a certain good,  
And frame our best of what is worst!  
Since by great Heaven the earth we cursed.  Char. 
My thoughts to Heaven their wishes send;  
And to heavens' will in reverence bend;  
Leave tempting me thou dismal care,  
Mistress of ruin and despair;  
The strings of my poor heart, I'm sure,  
Are not so strong they can endure  
This cruel weight: then be thou gone,  
And leave my Love to act alone.  Beau. 
Maligni, ha, canst thou weep?  
I shall enamoured grow of what I could not love before.  Bell. 
Poor Major, What have we here lost?  Malig. 
I Madam, the world can yield no recompense for this.  Chair. 
He bade us have a care of him dead!  
Sir, remember, pray, to do it as you love  
Your dying friend, O my soul!  
That 〈◊〉 live to speak him.  [She falls. Malig. 
Alas, my Colonel took care, you see, at last,  
For me, unworthy me; I shall grow blind with grief;  Beau. 
Come Major, help to lead these Ladies forth,  
And call me now your friend;  
Since he commanded hath this friendly tie.  [Exeunt. Enter D'elpech, La'march, Boutefeu. D'elp. 
'Tis strange we should not learn  
A perfecter account of all this business.  Bout. 
Cannot Beaupre inform you?  D'elp. 
He seems as ignorant as we.  La' Mar. 
And I dare swear he is so:  
You two, I hope, are reconciled.  Bout. 
O yes, the General did it this morning.  D'elph. 
How? this morning! why, were you with him this morning?  Bout. 
No, not I; who says I was?  D'elp. 
I did understand you so.  Bout. 
I was mistaken, so were you too; God buy.  Exit. La' Mar. 
What the Devil's this?  
hay pass and repass, this Fellow grows so surly,  
He'll have his brains beaten out ere long;  
He's like a mad dog, snarls and bites at every body.  D'elp. 
ay, and no body knows wherefore;  
Sure his brain's addle.  La' Mar. 
Nay that it ever was since I knew him;  
But he's much altered, h' used to be  
An honest plain blunt Fellow;  
Now so capricious! out on't!  D'elp. 
Who cares?— but to our business:  
Who dost thou think will carry now the Regiment?  La' Mar. 
There is much talk of young Beaupre;  
Though it of right belongs to Maligni.  D'elp. 
He's a man that has no friend,  
And I'm afraid deserves none:  
Yet he will buffle hard before he lose his Right:  
The other's a worthy youth;  
Though I dare swear he will not much seek for it.  La' Ma. 
I love him for my Colonel's sake,  
H' was his faithful friend.  D'elp. 
It shall be still my study how to serve him.  
O Major! how man?  [Enter Maligni. 
Ha, weeping, why I thought thy breeding in the Wars  
Had dried that fountain up;  
Yet trust me it does become thee;  
I shall e'en bear thee company.  La' Mar. 
We have all lost a worthy man;  
But Fate has called him to a better place.  Malig. 
I hope so.  La' Mar. 
This may prove well for you:  
You are the next in place, for to succeed him▪  Malig. 
It never can prove well,  
I having lost so brave a Colonel;  
But Gentlemen let me entreat,  
You will to morrow morning order give  
That all your men draw up together  
Without Saint Denis Gate, and there receive  
Some further orders:  D'elp. 
We will not fail;  Malig. 
O! I had forgot to tell you,  
(My grief doth overwhelm my memory,)  
Young Beaupress is married to Bellmont,  
The sister of our late Colonel,  
Here privately, since that they came to Town;  D'elp. 
Did Brisac know so much before be died?  Malig. 
Yes, yes! but not when they were married,  
He had bequeathed her in his will to him,  
And with her all his fortune.  D'elp. 
'Twas noble Friendship in him,  
I wish them joy and happiness.  La' Mar. 
What Rumours that, about Beaupre succession?  Malig. 
I know not, I, nor care not.  D'elp. 
If there be any such report,  
It springs from this occasion,  
Beaupre did, when his Uncle lost his life,  
Pretend unto this Regiment;  
But young Brisac  
Had then the promise of the first that fell,  
For some brave Action he had done;  
When Beaupre with him joined in all,  
As being long Comrades, forced it upon him,  
And would not once dispute it,  
You since have seen he served a Volunteer,  
And would have no Command amongst us.  La' Mar. 
Something I knew before;  
But was not quite so perfect in the story,  
We shall obey your last Commands,  
Adieu Major.—  Exit D'elp. La' Mar. Malig. 
He ha' th' Regiment, ha, ha, ha!  
ay, so he shall, that's my good Boy, make much on't;  
Soft, soft ye fools, I have rods in piss  
For him, and for his curious Minx  
She used me sweetly; well, I must not trust her,  
She knows I am a Rogue,  
And seeing me grow great with him  
She may discover our last evenings walk,  
How am I now beset with my own plots,  
That fool Boutefeu, and he, for aught I know,  
May grow to a right Understanding,  
Ha! what becomes of me then? I have it  
And each on th'other shall secure my fate.—  Exit. Charlotte, held on a bed by Mariane Francibel, Dorville. Charl. 
Pray, Sirs, let me go, you use me too unkindly,  
I never did any of you such wrong;  Doru. 
Take comfort, my dear Girl,  
Thy father begs it of thee!  Charl. 
Why, I did beg of Heaven, and that was deaf,  
Deaf to my Zealous prayers;  
I'll never pray again: but I will sing  
Myself into his blessed Society.  

SONG.  
The Bells were rung, and the Mass was sung,  
And all was for my Billy,  
And all my friends my death had sworn,  
I would have none but Willy.   
hay, ho! break thou foolish heart;  
Why dost thou throb, and snub  
Like Girls that are whipped,  
Indeed I could be angry thou art so long a breaking.  Franc. 
She's much distempered, Sir,  
Madam, for Heaven's sake take patience to you.  Charl. 
What man is that?  Fran. 
It is your Father, Madam!  Char. 
O pray, Sir, be gone: alas poor man! he weeps too.  
Is it for Brisac you weep? nay then, pray stay,  
We will all weep, shall we not? he would have wept  
For me most bitterly, do not you think he would?  Fran. 
Yes surely, Madam.  Char. 
Alas poor man! come let me dry your cheeks:  
Truly I take it very kindly of you, that you will weep  
For my Brisac: did you lament my Mother so?  
Would she were with you now to comfort you, and I  
Were in her place.  D'orv. 
Peace, my dear Child,  
Thou like a tangled bird dost beat  
And fret thyself to death.  Char. sings. 

Willy was fair, Willy was stout,  
Willy was like the Lily;  
And Willy promised to marry me.   
O! but he could not; for he died, or else he would  
Have kept his promise: was ever poor maid  
So cozened; speak, were you ever cozened?  Maria. 
No truly, Madam.  Franc. 
May be some Music may still her spirits, Sir:  
Shall my Sister sing?  D'orv. 
I Pray let her.  Fran. 
Sing Sister! prithee sing!  Mariana sings. 
Lady preserve the Title of your heart,  
And ne'er commit so rash a deed,  
As when your Lover doth depart,  
You may not leave off sorrow with your weed:  
Spoil not what once was thought so fair▪  
But quench remaining fire with a Tear▪  
And bury, when the next does come,  
All sad remembrance in this Tomb.  Char. 
Away, thou art out of tune and sense,  
If I needs must hear Music,  
Let it be my poor Boy's Voice;  
He once could please me with his melancholy Songs,  
Pray, let him sing.  D'or. 
Any thing to please thee, poor Charlotte.  

Sung within by the Boy.  
Beyond the malice of abusive fate  
I now am grown, and in that state  
My heart shall mourn the loss it has received,  
When of its only joy it was bereaved;  
The Woods with echoes do abound,  
And each of them return the sound  
Of my Amintor's name; alas, he's dead,  
And with him all my joys are fled,  
Willow, Willow, Willow must I wear,  
For sweet Amintor's dead, why was my dear.   Fran. 
She's fallen into a slumber.  D'or. 
No noise, make the room dark you do convey her to.  [Exeunt. Enter Maligni, Boutefeu. Malig. 
I could not guests so much before.  Bout. 
P'heu! that can be no reason, Sir,  
I never did pretend to her,  
It's true, I've seen her often:  
But married are they; art sure of that?  Malig. 
He and she told me so themselves,  
I had some conference with her alone;  
But what a Rogue am I!  
I was commanded to be silent,  
And yet this tongue of mine  
It is so forward still to do you good!  Bout. 
Why, Major, this to me!  
If it be aught that I should know?  Malig. 
Alas, Sir, it concerns no other man.  Bout. 
And do you doubt my full discretion?  
You and I have still been friends.  Malig. 
And I am still the readiest man on earth  
To do you service,  
But a Lady's honour  
The Secret, Sir, is none of mine, but hers;  
And I cannot dispose on't to your trust  
Without her leave,  
She says she mainly doubts your carriage on't.  Bout. 
Doubts my carriage?  
I have been trusted before now,  
With half this Ceremony.  
If I can do her service tell me,  
For she's a very pretty woman,  
And I'll do't, if you wont, choose!  Malig. 
Do her a service?  
'Tis to do one to yourself,  
The greatest too that e'er your hopes could aim at.  Bout. 
Prithee, what is't, Major!  
You torture me with these delays.  Malig. 
You never gave a cause to young Beaupre  
Why he should hate you so.  Bnut. 
Never I, till tother night!  Malig. 
P'heu! that was only a requital  
To his unkindness,  
I'm sure you meant it so.  Bout. 
I did.  Malig. 
But never any thing before?  Bout. 
Not I  Malig. 
Why, then he does suspect  
As much as I am now acquainted with.  Bout. 
Let him suspect his heart out,  
Prithee what is't?  Malig. 
But you will not be ruled,  
And think it is below you thus to sneak,  
And hide yourself for such a Lady.  Bout. 
I will be ruled, I swear I will:  
Thou still shalt be my guide.  Malig. 
The fair Bellmont does dote upon you, Sir:  
Pray, what Charms have you made use of.  
Thus to ensnare so fair a woman?  Bout. 
You do not jest with me?  Malig. 
Not I,  
Nay, if you hold me for a Villain,  
I've done.  
I knew my foolish tongue would be too forward.  Bout. 
Nay, now you are unkind;  
But does she love me so,  
I'll to her straight,  
I would cross hell to meet so fair a Lady.  Malig. 
Why look you, Sir, how rash you are?  
Take your own course,  
This way she'll never see you.  Bout. 
〈◊〉 then? dear Major, do you direct me.  Malig. 
〈◊〉 you procure a friar's habit?  Bout. 
Ha— Yes, the Chaplain of our Regiment has one,  
He used to preach 〈◊〉; I can take his.  Malig. 
Do then, she shall meet you by the River side below the Garden walk, make haste, and ask no questions.  Bout. 
I'm gone; farewell! dear Maligni,  
And if I thrive, command my life.  [Exit. Malig. 
Yes! I think I shall command thy life,  [Enter Beau. 
Or by thy hand be master of Beaupre's.  Beau. 
How dost thou, Maligni?  
What, all alone?  Malig. 
Sir, I was thinking with myself,  
How grossly I have erred;  
You 〈◊〉 forgot, I'm sure, our last discourse,  
Where you grew angry, about Boutefeu.  Beau. 
Hang him rude slave,  
〈…〉 think on him.  Malig. 
He was 〈◊〉 even now;  
And the 〈◊〉 thinks 〈◊〉 so much his friend,  
There's nought he 〈◊〉 hides from me.  Beau. 
His secrets surely are not worth the hearing.  Malig. 
They may concern you, Sir, in time.  Beau. 
Me, alas, I do defy his malice.  Malig. 
But, Sir, there are some private hits.  
And those but seldom smart.  Beau. 
If he be stout, as I do think he is,  
He will abhor to murder any man  
That ready is to do him noble reason:  
And if a coward;  
He will not dare to think on't.  Malig. 
Nay, on my Conscience, he'll ne'er murder you▪  
But, Sir, by this I find, you are still at odds,  
May be 〈◊〉 Lady does it for the best.  Beau. 
My Lady! what of her?  Malig. 
I say, she, may be, soothes him up,  
To make you friends.  Beau. 
She soothe him up! why, she ne'er speaks to him.  Malig. 
Nay, there you are mistaken, to my knowledge, Sir.  
And he came thence so jocund and so gay:  
She has much power over him!  
That is most certain, Sir.  Beau. 
What's this I hear?  Malig. 
But she should chide him,  
The quarrel was very preposterous,  
And might wrong her fame.  Beau. 
'Tis true, 'tis true! what an Owl am I?  
Not to reflect on that.  Malig. 
But he was jealous of your better fortune.  Beau. 
He jealous of my Bellmont?  Malig. 
ay, I, all the world might see that in his carriage,  
But, why she should consent to meet  
A man disguised, and privately.  Beau. 
I know she will not.  Malig. 
But if I prove it to you,  
Shall I then be believed?  
She is the Sister of my Colonel,  
And now your Wife, whom I have ever loved,  
She may some indiscretions now commit  
Will lie as heavy on her as a Crime.  Beau. 
My honest, honest, Maligni,  
〈◊〉 this, and tie me ever to thy service.  Malig. 
Take you no notice, go, I'll bring ye where  
You shall need no attest but from your eyes—  [Exit. Beau. 
〈◊〉, these Trout's a man may tickle from their Senses.  [Enter Bout. Bout. 
I have the habit, Major.  Malig. 
Make much on't Boy; but keep your sword about ye  
Under your Coat, in case of danger to prevent the worst.  Bout. 
Thank's, Major, for your care:  
I did intend so much.  [Exit Boutefeu. Malig. 
'Tis not my fault if either of you live;  
Fall both, And then Im●certain I shall thrive—  Exit. Malig. Enter Bellmon, Luyson. Bell. 
Go see how my poor sister Charlotte does,  
And if she be awake.  Lewis. 
I shall, Madam.—  Exit Luyson. Bellm. 
How sullen is my fate,  
Thus to begin in mourning after marriage,  
My Lords poor heart is overcharged with grief,  
And we like Turtles grieve for poor Brisac;  
Poor youth he was both Friend and Brother;  
O Major! you are welcome, and I hope,  Enter Maligni, 
You have as well forgot the will to sin,  
As I have freely now forgot your fault.  
You see the frailty of man's estate,  
And then the sure account we all must give,  
Come be not sad, this Counsel I don't mean  
As a reproach, but for your real good;  
For I do find my brother loved you much.  Malig. 
Why did the heavens' create you then so fair,  
O hide those Eyes, for they would make  
An austere Anchorite in Love with sin.  Bell. 
You counsel well:  
Hereafter I'll not move  
This veil when you shall be in presence.  Malig. 
'Twas the good Counsel of your Ghostly Father,  
Who now has eased my soul  
Of a most heavy burden it sustained.  Bell. 
Truly, I do rejoice in your Conversion.  Malig. 
He told me, Madam, he would speak with you,  
Alone, without acquainting of your husband,  
Matter of Moment he pretends it is.  Bellm. 
What should it be? can you not guests, good Major?  Malig. 
Yes! I believe about the difference  
Happened between Boutefeu and him;  
I have a Letter from him to you.  Bell. 
To me! prithee let's see't.  Malig. 
The Priest has brought him to confess his fault,  
But honour will not let him do't to your Lord,  
And you are thought the fittest Medium now.  Bell. 
I wish I might prevail with them for peace,  
How is she, Wench? does she still sleep?—  Enter Luyson. Lewis. 
No, Madam, she's awake,  
And 'tis a woeful sight to see her so.  Bell. 
I will go Visit her.  
Major, I shall remember what you told me of,  
And will not fail to meet the father,  
But pray where is't?  Malig. 
Below the Garden, by the River side.  Bell. 
Here, Luyson, keep this Letter—  Exit. Malig. 
Nay, stay you here.  Lewis. 
My Lady will chide, I dare not,  
I'll meet you here anon.  Malig. 
What letter's that, let's see't?  Lewis. 
Fie Major, oh here's my Lord— forces the letter from her▪  Beau. 
Who was that just now  Enter Beaupre. 
Parted from you?  Malig. 
Your Lady's woman,  
I am great with her, stay let me see the Letter  
She has stolen.  
Madam!  
I shall not fail to meet you near the garden,  
By the River side, and there be obedient, in what  
Ever you shall think most fit,  Boutefeu. 
Why, look ye, Sir!  
Thus unexpectedly I find a way  
To keep my promise with you:  Beau. 
'Tis not his hand,  
He dares not write thus to her:  Malig. 
Are you so perfect in his Character?  
Methink's it is his hand.  Beau. 
I never did believe that he could write;  
A sense-less brute; but I grow fool in Words  
And idle passion is for want of deeds.  Malig. 
What deeds?  
Heaven guard your breast from evil thoughts,  
You will not, sure, conclude that there is harm in this.  Beau. 
No, no, meet a man privately,  
Disguised as you do tell me,  
One that durst wrong me too, her husband,  
Most excellent Meaning sure there is in this,  
O, I could rear her from my memory,  
Nay, tear the heart that ever did contain  
So base a Guest, as her base Whorish Love.  Malig. 
Fie, Sir, 'tis not so bad yet.  Beau. 
'Tis not the body, but the mind  
Can ever make it bad,  
I'd rather have my wife ' twice ravished,  
Then once dare think the means how she may act it,  
But thou art honest Maligni  
And know'st not half the cunning of these Women.  Malig. 
Alas, Sir, I.  
You see, Sir, in her Carriage I was Cozened,  
Nay, her Brother's eyes were sealed too,  
And yet that was not such a Monstrous Crime,  
That she should take such care in the Concealment,  
How close she'd prove in matter of more moment.  Beau. 
And I, good-natured Fool,  
Read it obedience to my strict Command.  Malig. 
Nay, may 〈◊〉 'twas so,  
But she's good Natured too,  
And, I would have you still avoyed all scandal.  Beau. 
Good natured; ha?  
Come lead me to this sight,  
I'm sick till I be there,  
And sicker shall be far when I have seen it:  Malig. 
I will not be your guide,  
If you 〈…〉 aught when you have seen it.  Beaup. 
Not be my Guide?  
Thou shalt,  
Or I will cut your throat, Officious Sir▪  [Draws▪ 
Do you pretend to tell me this  
Out of mere friendship? thinking to soothe me up  
To low dishonour? You should have held your tongue  
If you did mean it, knowing me:  
But now conduct me where I may see them both,  
As thou didst tell me too,  
Or I will cut thy throat, because thou knewst not me,  
And yet dost know her weakness.  Malig. 
Come, put up your Sword,  
Or keep it drawn still against your Friend;  
'Twill be no argument of courage, Sir,  
Nor of much honesty:  
I will discover all I can unto you;  
And if you rashly deal, then blame not me;  
For I grow mad to see your excellent Nature  
Thus Fever-shook by a fond Woman's fault;  
But let me still persuade your wiser thoughts  
To fly all choler in your undertakings.  Beaup. 
I'll do no rash unseasonable act,  
Without a full examination,  
That I'll promise thee.  Malig. 
Nay, if you come once to examining  
You put them to a guard, and they'll defend  
All questions you can then but offer to them.  Beaup. 
How then?  Malig. 
Why, as you please?  
But Boutefeu is very choleric,  
He'll scarce endure examination  
Without the measuring of this.  Beaup. 
Would there were all my mischief.  
Prithee le's go, I stand on thorns.  [Exeunt. Malig. 
Come, if I can I will prevent your horns.  Enter Bouteseu like a Friar in the Garden. Bout. 
She is not here yet.  
Methinks I look like Friar Bacon▪  
But I had better been studying what to say;  
Hang Speeches, I came to do;  
For she likes me already, then what need I talk?  
O my sweet Maligni!  
I'll sue for thee to my Sister,  
An it wilt, for this kindness:  [Walks up and down. 
No Soul in Love, fond Boy, the World's great Soul.  Enter Bellmont. Bell. 
Most Reverend Sir, you see I have not failed  
In my obedience to your Message sent.  Bout. 
Nor will I ever fail whilst I do breath  
To be the humblest of your Servants, Lady.  Bell. 
Father! I cry you mercy, you are not the man  
I took you for.  Bout. 
Yes but I am, Lady; See my hair is only put back▪  Enter Beaupre and Maligni. Beaup. 
Hell and Furies! Stay me not:  Bout. 
Ha! her Husband, with Maligni too!  
O Villain; I am betrayed;  
Have comfort, Lady, I can defend ye well.  Bell. 
Me! I know ye not.  Beaup. 
But I do you.  [Wounds Bellmont▪ Bout. 
'Twas base; here was the nobler mark,  
As I am man, and therefore thou—  Beaup. 
Come, come, ye dog, thus I can muzzle ye.  Bout. 
No, not yet.  Beaup. 
Yes, now 'twill do, thus, doubly thus.  Bout. 
Had I but done the deed  
It would not trouble me half so much to die thus.  Bell. 
As you did ere love Heaven  
Hear me but speak.  Malig. 
Madam, 'tis now too late.  Beaup. 
But I will hear her speak,  
And learn the truth from dying mouths.  Malig. 
Then keep them company.  [Runs at Beaupre. Bell. 
heavens' guard my dear Beaupre.  Beaup. 
Base treacherous Villain—  [Beaup. disarms him. 
What didst thou mean in this?  
hay, Bask! help me to tie this dog:  [Enter Footman, binds him, 
Come, lead them to my Closet,  
There I will learn the truth;  
This place is too much open to the eye.  Bout. 
Pray, Madam, ere you go  
Tell me one thing, and then I die in quiet;▪  
Did you ere send for me?  Bell. 
Not as I hope for mercy;  
Nor did I till now know you.  Beaup. 
Who did persuade you hither?  Bout. 
A base malicious Villain, and a Knave;  
I find I was betrayed by my own folly.  
Beaupre, give me thy hand;  
As e'er I hope to come at Heaven  
'Tis Maligni has wronged both thee and me,  
And this fair virtuous Lady.  
This as I'm dying I am bound to tell.  [Dies. Beau. 
What canst thou say to this?  Malig. 
I will say nothing but thou art an Ass,  
Though I have missed my aim.  Beau. 
Convey him, Sirrah, to my Closet,  
And kill him rather than permit escape.  [Ex. Malig. Seru. 
But O, what torments of Eternal Hell  
Afflict my murdered Soul!  
Bellmont my fair! my dear Bellmont!  
Could all the malice of a bloody Rogue  
Tempt me to wound this breast!  
The Fountain of my Pleasures, all my Joys!  
O, my cursed Stars!  
No bolt in Heaven to strike so foul a Murderer?  Bell. 
The Heavens shall sure forgive thee my Beaupre,  
If ever I get thither:  
For I will be thy Intercessor still,  
And knowing it was Love too much betrayed,  
I will not grieve to die thy Martyr;  
But when I am gone  
Believe my Honour still as fair,  
And that I still did love my dear Beaupre,  
Farewell, one kiss, so  [dies. Beau. 
Ye Angels take her to your Guardianship.  
Whilst I must howl my fault so loud,  
That Beasts that hear the dismal sound  
Shall frighted stand, and men with horror sweat,  [Enter Bask. 
Whilst they imagine but my Agony.  
O Bask, is he safe, here set these bodies up,  
Now call the Governor  
And all thou seest of my acquaintance,  
Hark thee one word.  
Thus like a Pilgrim, fore his honoured Saint,  [Kneels to Bell. body. 
I offer up oblations of my Vows;  
But like a sinner steeled in vice  
I must despair the mercy I do call for;  
For thou art cold my Girl, my poor Bellmont,  
And though thy charity toth' last did blaze,  
It was a fire will consume my soul,  
My easy cozened soul, which ought to lose  
Its immortality, since it did reason lack;  
Come all ye Furies lash me from this sight,  
But now I think on't, this is a Sanctuary,  
No, I will first perform one act of justice,  
(That I should talk of justice now!)  
And then I will deliver to your rage  
All that I can of me—  
Yet let thy mercy, heaven,  
Allow me but her sight, for my relief  
Her pleasing sight—  
For she did speak forgiveness at her death;  
And wilt thou use so prodigal a mercy,  
No, my Bellmont, I need no weapon for my death,  
Grief for my fault will stop my breath.  Enter Maligni gauged and blinded with a Handkerchief twixt two servants. 
So set him there  
And when I give the word, hark ye,  [Whispers. 
He not deserves a worthier hand,  
What made thee, Hellhound, thus abuse my soul,  
Hadst thou no pity left thee in thy breast,  
Yet this same sight would make Allecto weep;  
Thou Cruel Dog—  
And I more Cruel Fool—  Malig. 
I will not answer thee, do what thou wilt  [Noise here Beau. 
Away with him to Execution,  
I hear 'em ' coming—  [Exeunt with Maligni. Enter Dorville, D'elpech, La' March, La Barr, Attendants. 
Most worthy, Sir, why, I have called you here,  
That sight will best inform you.  Doru. 
Ha! dead! Boutefeu too in a Friar's weed.  Beau. 
You'll wonder more when I dare boldly tell you,  
'Twas I that killed them both.  Doru. 
Disarm him some of you,  Malig. 
within— O, O! ye Cruel Dogs!  Beaup. 
The first that does attempt it straight shall find  
The folly's great, when I my resolved to die!  
But hear me quietly some few moments,  
I promise to resign it then:  Doru. 
Will you therewith not do some harm first?  
Not on yourself I mean?  Beau. 
I shall not need,  
That have such killing objects 'fore my eyes.  Malig. 
O, O, O!  Doru. 
What voice is that!  Beaup. 
Say, Sir, I best can tell you,  
The voice it is of one  
That wrought me to a mischief, none but he,  
So wicked Villain as he was,  
Could ever give a birth to.  Enter Luyson. Lewis. 
O! my Lady! my dear Lady!  Doru. 
Peace, thou foolish woman!  
But who is't, pray, Sir? He seems to be wounded.  Beau. 
That horrid Monster Maligni,  
Poor Bellmont could he behold thy Face  
And plo such Ruin to thy Loveliness?  Lewis. 
Did he do this?  
H' would have ravished her once before in the garden.  Malig. 
Peace! Devil! peace!  Lewis. 
Nay, it shall all out,  
Has tempted me several times to leave some Letters  
In her Chamber.  Beau. 
I find my soul's a sleeting after hers  
And you'll have time enough t'examine this,  
See, Sir, the Sacrifice of Innocence,—  Malig. discovered pierced with a stake. 
Now take my sword, 'tis not in Surgeon's Art  
To cure the fractures of a Broken heart!  
Besides that Villain has been busy here;  
Forgive me Dear Bellmont! forgive a Crime  
Caused by my too much Love.—  Dies. D'elp. 
I ever did suspect that Maligni.  La. Mar. 
H'was a subtle and a Cruel Villain:  Lewis. 
But, Sir, your daughter.  Doru. 
Ha! what of her?  Lay. 
Is dead? poor Lady died distracted with her grief.  Doru. 
I wish that mine  
Could do that favourable office;  
Heaven's how have I deserved  
These sad afflictions?  D'elpe. 
The best of cure and remedy is patience,  
Then take it to you, Sir,  
Remember Virtue calls upon you sort.  D'orv. 
But, Sir, of late,  
Virtue's rewards are slow,  
And I am too much oppressed with cruel grief,  
To stir my passions by her Moral rules!  
O my poor Girl!  
How cruel was thy fate?  D'elpe. 
Be not so much dejected, Sir!  
We must submit to him that makes all even.  
And never Spurn against the will of Heaven.  [Exeunt Omnes.  
FINIS.