THE Morning Ramble, OR, THE TOWN-HUMOURS: A COMEDY.  
Acted at the Duke's Theatre.  
LONDON, Printed for Thomas Dring, at the White Lion, next Chancery-Lane end in Fleetstreet. 1673.   

PROLOGUE.  
Critics, now boast your power, for you have made  
A Tragic muse run mad in masquerade.  
All Poets before him the Laws did slight  
Of such as only railed, but could not Write.  
But he submits so far, that you will swear  
His first was writ in blood, but this i'th' Air.  
'Twas nine day's work: but truly there might be  
As good a Play just spoke Ex tempore.  
For Whip and Spur, 'tis A-la-mode de France;  
A thing made up of Fiddle, Song, and Dance.  
All three your dear Delights, no matter then  
Whether of sense there be one line in ten:  
This Age is not for that, 'tis much too wise,  
What Poets teach, you dull moralities;  
That was their business in that humble Age,  
When Hedges were their Scenes, and Fields their Stage,  
When the poor simple World strove to be good;  
Thank time, things now are better understood.  
But yet he could not leave, you'll see him now  
Have a slight pass or two at some of you;  
He thinks there's Bullies dare not fight, i'th' Pit  
As well as Critics, that he's sure want wit.  
One may be both— They that make most ado,  
Do oftenest want both wit and courage too.  
But fear no common place, nor sober saws,  
By some late Plays he partly knows your Laws.  
At a acquaint Dance, or a Grimace that takes,  
The Theatre with loud applauses shakes.  
But if true thought be with good Language dressed,  
You slightly cry, 'twas well enough expressed.  
Then as you've used some Plays, so do by this,  
Clap but that part which wild and senseless is,  
And for what's wise we give you leave to hiss.   

The Actors Names.  

Townlove.  
Merry.  
Ruffle.  
Muchland.  
Rash.  
Fullam.  
Brief.  
Constable.  
Drawer.  
Officers.  
Soldiers and Watchmen.  
Mr. Betterton.  
Mr. Harris.  
Mr. Smith.  
Mr. Medbourn.  
Mr. Crosby.  
Mr. Vnderhill.  
Mr. Norris.   

Honour Muchland.  
Betty Rash.  
Rose.  
Lady Turnip.  
Two Maid-Servants.  
Three Vizard-Masks.  
Mrs. Johnson.  
Mrs. Long.  
Mrs. Shadwell.  
Mrs. Osborn.    

THE Morning Ramble.  

The First Act.  Enter Townlove and Merry, with Fiddles and Torches. Mer. 
NO drawing back, Townlove, I'm engaged, and am resolved to make a Night on't.  Townl. 
Prithee, Will Merry, let's part; thou knowst I never use that word to thee but when I have extraordinary business.  Mer. 
Business! what business canst thou have? I'll warrant you you're to be up betimes i'th' Morning to sell a parcel of fat Sheep or Oxen, new come from your Estate in the Country, or else to instruct Counsel in a Cause of yours depending I know not where. Business, quoth a, that ever a well-bred Gentleman should suffer the word to come into his Mouth.  Townl. 
I tell thee, Will, I have business, serious business, and business fit for a Gentleman; let that satisfy you: and so farewell.  Mer. 
Stay, Stay, this shall not do, Townlove, I smell you out; You fear I'll carry you to some lewd House now that abounds in Burgundy, and there top up with another's half dozen Bottles; then the dreadful Headache comes and keeps you in two days to be the disappointment of Lord knows how many she-friends.  Townl. 
And do you think such fears are not very reasonable? A Man indeed hath so much time allowed him in this World, that he should neglect the Living two days for the delight of two hours: Prithee think, would any Man of sense part with his time at that rate?  Mer. 
Faith, Townlove, thou art mad, distracted, gone, and I'm afraid, beyond recovery; thou canst not consider things I see.  Townl. 
If want of consideration be a sign of madness, Will, thou hast been a little crazed ever since I knew thee. But prithee, what han't I considered in this matter?  Mer. 
Living, Townlove, Living: thou hast not so much as considered what business thou was sent into the World about— 'tis Living, Man.  Town. 
Why, I know 'tis Living, and therefore I strive to Live as much of the time I have allowed me as I can.  Mer. 
Thou Live, and yet speak against Drinking, the very thing that distinguishes the Life of Man from that of a Beast! Why, 'tis the only Spur of Wit and Reason; I have heard more new thoughts in Drinking three hours, than the best Modern Play can furnish you with; Therefore if thou wouldst Live, that is, truly enjoy thyself, Drink, I say, Drink.  Town. 
Well, I can neither stay to do it, nor talk of it now; and therefore good bye.  Mer. 
Nay, faith, thou shalt stay till I give a serenade to my Mistress now, I am under the Window; strike up, Boys.  Town. 
Hold; sure Will, thou'rt mad— Dost not know her Brother is a serious Gentleman, and not used to City frolicks; 'tis the only way to lose her for ever.  Mer. 
Why, this 'tis, not to understand Drinking, it makes one as dull and thoughtless as a Country Curate, that lives upon six pounds, and a cast Cassock two and fifty Sundays; dost thou think I would Marry her, if I did not intent to reclaim both her and her Brother from dull sobriety.  Town. 
Why, thou wouldst not have thy Wife Drink, wouldst thou?  Mer. 
No, but I would have her be as mad, and love those that do, Women are fine thin things, the breath of a Man that is merry is sufficient to inspire them with wit enough for a Woman, and therefore here I declare that I will serenade her, and if she shows the least dislike to the frolic, I will, in spite of Love and all his little tricks, disclaim her for ever. And therefore, Boys, to our business; come, the Song I made.  Town. 
Well, I'll stay to see thee a poor discarded, melancholy, disconsolate Lover, and then I'll leave thee, and go to my Mistress.  

Song.  
FRom Friends just inspired with brisk Burgundy Wine,  
Speaking raptures of Reason, and say Divine.  
I come— I come— from this Heaven I come,  
And through dirt and darkness I willingly roam,  
To follow a Boy that confesses he's blind,  
He tells me of hope, but leads me through fear,  
Nay, sometimes I'm just on the brink of despair;  
Yet on I follow, I follow still, leaving behind  
The two mighty Blessings, my Bottle and Friend.  
He tells me of Bliss,  
Beyond this,  
Yet will not declare where my Journey shall end.  Chorus. 
Ah, what Charms have those Eyes!  
That a Love so strong can inspire,  
It Mirth, Wit, and Friendship defies,  
And Wine cannot slacken its fire.  
Then spite of myself I must follow him still,  
A Devil, or a God, let him be which he will,  
I cannot, nay, would not retire,  
No, though I were sure to be burnt in the fire.   Rose appears in a Nightgown above. Rose. 
For heavens sake, Mr. Merry, be gone; my Mistress knows who you are, but should her Brother do so, we should be sent into the Country immediately.  Mer. 
Rose, Rose, I tell thee, Rose, I would follow with this noise of Fiddles at my heels, and drive him back to Town, or never let him sleep but in shelter of as many Nightcaps as Morose in the Silent Woman hath.  Rose. 
I am very serious, Sir, my Lady begs you to be gone before you wake her Brother.  Mer. 
Come, Rose, confess, confess; I know thou art acquainted with a touch of thy Mistress' secrets: Tell me, is there no other seat but of being sent into the Country?  Honour, Muchland appears. Hon. 
Oh, yes, no doubt on't, the Mistress is highly concerned for fear of losing the hopes of so sober a Husband.  Mer. 
Marry, and I thought so.—  Hon. 
One, that if a Body has occasion for at night may be heard of either in a Tavern, French-house, Constable's hands, or the Counter.  Mer. 
Well; and is not that better than to be troubled with a formal fop of business, who lodges his wife in the Country, to prescribe for the Agne, then scratches his empty Noddle, cries, I protest I must post to London, I shall be undone else; there stays a whole Term a doing nothing, or what is as bad, that which comes at last to nothing.  Townl. 
And thinks he performs his Duty very well to his Wife, if he gives her a bout every post with a long formal Letter of Excuses for not coming.  Mer. 
Which must beget another on her full of Complaints, for his absence.  Town. 
Then when he returns in the Spirit of Beef and Ale, Will, it may beget a Male Child.  Mer. 
Which proves like the Ingredients 'tis Compounded of, a fit Companion for Clowns, and of no use but to have his Name inserted in long Indentures, Tripartite for Intaling, specially that Earth that is near as sensible as its Clod-pate owner.  Town. 
The drawing of this deed too is a new excuse for coming to London, and seeing, as the learned have it, his Uncle.  Mer. 
So, that in fine your man of business loves to be thought to love business, Courts business, lies with business, and begets nothing but business, or things as dull as business; and, Lady, will you slight a Man that loves Wit, Mirth, and Burgundy, for this Animal, nonrationale.  Hon. 
I pray, Sir, where's the necessity for marrying either, do you think there is none but such as cannot stay at home for their business, or will not, for their Wine and Wenches?  Town. 
Lady, have a care; that is my Province: Wenches! if you speak irreverently of Wenches I am bound to stand up for them, and shall soon be provoked to say, that if my friend here, and some few others like him, could but relish the pleasure of Wenching, you, and all the illbred honest Women in the Town might sleep quietly, or waking, gnaw your Sheets without the help of a Song and Fiddle at your windows. Wenching, quoth a.  Hon. 
Well, Mr. Merry, I see you, for your Wine, and your Friend for Wenches, are so well met, 'twould be pity to part you, and I am resolved not to be so cruel; therefore assuring you I am not in haste for a Husband, but can stay till a soberer grow; if there be none yet ripe, I leave you to your further Adventures.  Exiturus Honour and Rose. Mer. 
Faith, no parting so. Strike up, and sing the Chorus, Chor. Ah, what Charms have those Eyes, etc.  Hon. 
Pray hold, my Brothers coming.  Mer. 
I am glad of it, since I cannot reclaim the Sister from doting on Sobriety. I'll see what can be done on the Brother; go on.  
Sings.  
Then spite of myself, etc.  Enter Mr. Muchland above. Much. 
Ah, Mr. Merry, you're upon the Ramble, I see; what time of Night is it?  Mer. 
About two, and fair Wether; who would lie spending this pleasant time in a lazy Bed, and then rise to fry all day in the Sun?  Much. 
Why, did not Nature intent the Night for Rest, seeming to draw Curtains about us, and the Day for Action, displaying the great producer of it, Light.  Mer. 
This Philosophy may serve well enough for one not in Love, but i'faith my Body is too combustible to endure two fires at once; Love, and the Sun: and therefore I drink at Night to slacken than within, and sleep in the Day to avoid that without.  Much. 
I see you would seem a Philosopher too, to justify the drinking as caused by your Love, but my Sister will scarce believe you in that.  Hon. 
Yes, Brother, but I will; for I do believe 'tis Love; Love of drinking, I mean, that causes the fire within he complains of, and so he drinks on to quench it.  Much. 
Well, Gentlemen, the street may prove scandalous: Rose, go, let 'em in.  Exit Rose. Hon. 
Scandalous! if you mean to them, 'tis impossible; for they're as well known in the street as the Bellman, and as duly expected by the Neighbourhood to their Lodgings punctually to come home at break of day.  Mer. 
You say right, Madam; the Smiths, Shoemakers, Pewterers, and Saddlers in our street have no measure to call up their Prentices by, but the noise of my Fiddles playing me to my Lodging.  Town. 
He tells you true, Madam; for they heard once he was going to remove, and in great fright called a Vestry the next Lord's Day, where it was proposed to make a Collection amongst them to pay for his Lodging, on Condition he would stay.  Mer. 
Yes, faith, and a solemn present of saffron Cakes and Sack given to Townlove, to move me to it.  Enter Rose below. Rose. 
Come, Gallants, you may enter; but Mr. Muchland is not of my mind, to suffer it.  Mer. 
Prithee why, Rose; I know thou art not so cruel, but thou couldst find in thy heart sometimes to let in a Friend later than this.  Rose. 
Sir, it must be with greater expectation of a sober demeanour when they come in, than I could hope from you now.  Mer. 
Townlove, Rose is a Person I much rely on, therefore prithee manage the controversy begun with her, whilst I go and excuse myself to her Mistress.  Ex. all but Rose and Townlove. Rose. 
No, Sir, Arguments are in vain to me, I'm so possessed that Love and Wine are inconsistent together, that I think I could die rather than recant my Opinion.  Town. 
And, Rose, it may be in doing so, wouldst be as solid a Martyr as many of thy Sex, who have, as they say, witnessed with their Death, truths they no ways understood, nor indeed lay half so obvious to their Reason.  Rose. 
Well, Sir, will you please to come in; the noise that these Fiddles keep will allure more of you wand'ring Knights to enter, except the Door be shut.  Town. 
No, Rose, thou and I will stand and guard the passage to this Enchanted Castle, where vild Matrimonical Love is pursued in these days of clearer light.  Rose. 
Why then, Sir, you dare not enter into any House, it seems, that is defiled with Honesty; if those be your principles, you and I are not proper Sentinels for one place, being Soldiers of two opposite parties.  Town. 
Why, Rose, are you for no Love that is not bound by the spell of, To have and to hold, and the little Magic Circle of Gold, that Fools say, makes one of two Persons as inconsistent, and different in their Natures, as the Stars that govern 'em; and as far asunder in their inclinations, as they are from one another in place.  Rose. 
Truly, Sir, I am altogether for being particular in Love, or for not being in Love at all, though I confess 'tis no great matter, I think, for any other tie than mutual consent.  Town. 
Divine Rose! if thou art not now, or hast not been particular, as thou call'st it, already, than this free humour I'm afraid will make me thine in spite of all resistance, and therefore dear Rose, admit of a Treaty, in order to a stricter League.  Rose. 
Which will begin on your part with a breach of Articles concerning some former commerce; that Amity is like to continue long, whose first Foundation is broken Faith.  Town. 
No doubts, Rose, but must be explained on both sides, to prevent future mistakes, I must know whether I am the first discoverer of your Territories, that I may the better rate the curiosity, you shall know the true cause of my leaving my former Traffic, and seeking out new Countries.  Rose. 
Well, Sir, I am not so fond of the Alliance, as to spend time in the Treaty; and so farewell, if you will not come in.  Town. 
Come in, sayest thou! I am so taken with thy humour, that I would follow thee, though it was to Church.  Exit. The Scene changes into the House, where is Merry, Muchland, his Sister Honour, and the Fiddles. Much. 
Well, I'll go and dress myself, and then Ramble with you.  Exit. Mer. 
Do so; this Brother of yours, Madam, is a very honest Gentleman, and I have greater hopes of him then I have of you.  Hon. 
Indeed, Sir, you have a great deal of Reason.  Mer. 
Why, good Madam, can you show a just exception against my manner of Living?  Hon. 
Yes, indeed, Sir, a thousand, if it concerned me, but I shall not need to take pains in particulars about a thing so remote.  Mer. 
Madam, I must tell you, there is more thanks due to me for this Visit, than you seem to bestow by your cold indifferency.  Hon. 
Thanks for breaking my sleep!  Mer. 
For breaking your sleep, say you; marry, I hope to have your thanks for doing it before I die, notwithstanding your seeming sober dislikes of it now.  Enter Townlove. Hon. 
For hope, 'tis an Estate entailed upon Lovers and Fools. There is no dispossessing them of it, and though I cannot certainly define by which of the Titles you hold, yet this for your comfort I can tell you, Fiddles, and crying Fire are much the same to me about two in the morning, and were I married, I cannot certainly tell which I should sooner wish my Husband should waken me with.  Town. 
Faith, Madam, let your Servant wake you with Fiddles, and your Husband with Fire; the first provokes Dancing, the Emblem of Love, that never lets a man rest, and the other is hot, and therefore requires a— Cooler.  Mer. 
Townlove, I thank thee for that— 'tis the first time I e'er heard thee speak for sitting up late; sure thou hast been drinking since I left thee without, thou art so thoughtful, nothing but Wine would have made thee arrived to the tenth part of this good Nature.  Town. 
No, truly, Sir, I have been loving, and loving a great deal for so little time.  Mer. 
The fire of thy Love is like that of Gunpowder, flash, noise, smoke, and Exit. Mine is kindled in heart of Oak, where 'tis lasting and useful.  Hon. 
And which to preserve the Block the longer, you quench every Night by drenching it in Liquor, and then with a great deal of pussing and blowing you kindle it again by Noon.  Mer. 
And is not that well, when you can have half the day to warm yourself by it? an't would but hold out at that rate I should prove the best Husband in Town; but faith, Madam, take me before I waste too much, for this keeping the firelight all Night will consume fuel monstrously.  Hon. 
And 'tis two to one we shall sit blowing our fingers half the long Winter of Marriage, for that's a cold time, I have heard many of you Gallants say.  Mer. 
Ay, such as Townlove here, that know no other way to heat themselves but at the main fire. But we that practise the warm Exercise of Drinking, never go cold to Bed, and a warm Bedfellows Arms is a pleasant place I can tell you.  Enter Muchland dressed. Much. 
Come, gentlemans, I am ready for your commands now, let's whither you please.  Mer. 
Why then, let's to your Mistress, and serenade her, and call Ned Rosh her Brother up, and go to the Rose Tavern for a Bottle of Burgundy.  Much. 
With all my heart.  Town. 
I'll bring you on your way, till you go embark for drinking, and then I'll take leave, being not willing to grow Sea-sick to Night.  Mer. 
Brother Muchland, that must be, for so I know the Destinies have decreed; this Townlove is a very honest fellow, did he not delight in lewd Company.  Town. 
One good turn is, the faults of my Company are not so visible, nor do not make such a noise as yours do.  Mer. 
If thou understoodst noise, thou wouldst not say so, for is't not the whole noise of the Town; who's such a ones Mistress, what he allows her, and whether she has any certainty settled on her, or must upon dislike be cast off, and according to the answers of these Queries she is more or less respected, and makes the greater noise at her Lodgings in the Park, and at the Play House.  Town. 
And good reason too; 'tis not the drinking of Wine, but your ability to pay for it makes you welcome to the drowsy Vintner at two in the Morning; and let the precise say what they will, 'tis plain they ne'er complain of the sins they themselves get by, or delight in.  Much. 
Faith, Sir, you are in the right, I ne'er heard of a Vintner or Bawd that complained of Drinkers or Wenchers, except they broke Windows, or built Sconces, and I'll assure you I have known very devout People of both those Employments.  Mer. 
No doubt on't, People that would not have failed being at Church before the Psalm was sung for their Sundays Dinner.  Much. 
Truly it is the same in more warrantable Employments, for you shall never hear the Parson speak against the sin his Patron is notoriously guilty of, or if he is forced to Name it, it is in such a whisper, that few, except the Reader, can hear him.  Town. 
Your Lawyer ne'er speaks against the forgery he is retained for; your Doctor, ne'er against the cause of the Pox, nor will a Soldier be persuaded there is any hurt in plundering.  Much. 
Nor will all the Rhetoric a man has be enough to Convince a Tradesman that he doth ill when he over-reaches them most that trust him most.  Town. 
Then since no Action, be it good or bad, but hath its vouchers, I am for letting every one have his humour, and only beg that I may have mine, which terminates always in the consent of the parties I deal with, and the Devils in't if there can be harm in that, to which all Persons concerned give their approbation.  Mer. 
Why, thou'rt in the right, Townlove, and therefore let us by mutual consent pursue our intentions.  Town. 
What, call up a Lady with a noise of Fiddles at two in the morning, for no other purpose but to break her sleep; it shall never be said Townlove was partaker in such a Crime; therefore you that can Dance, shall; and you that cannot, shall try; for I will have my frolic.  Hon. 
And good reason you have for it, Sir, for 'tis a shame that those who are so used to Dance about the streets all Night should be able to do nothing tending to the same stirring faculty within Doors.  Town. 
Then to your business; first, the Catch in commendation of the Liberal Art of Wenching, and then a Dance, to show the methodical motion of Reeling.  

Catch.  
1. Boy, call the Coach; come, Jack, let's away:  
'Tis tedious to sit out this Tragical Play.  
A Plague o'their pletting and dying in Rhyme,  
Let's drive to the Park  
Before it be dark,  
There we'll better dispose of our Time.  
2. Stay, who is that so dressed like a Queen?  
1. 'Tis the fine Lady Lofty, but let's not be seen:  
For her Husband is surely gone out.  Chor. 
— She searches to find  
If a Friend will be kind,  
And treat her abroad with a Supper and 'bout.  
2. Why should she want that? Her Lords a brave Man.  
1. Ay, Jack, but they're married.  
2. Then what two are you?  
1. 'Tis Will Lovewell and his pretty Miss,  
He hath kept her this seven year, yet prithee, Jack, see  
How jocund and merry they be,  
How Crowned, and encircled with Bliss.  Chor. 
Love Revels, and Feasts in hearts that are free,  
But languishing starves if restrained he be.  
1. See, yonder sits Wellborn with his pretty Wife.  
2. They look as they'd ne'er seen each other before.  
1. She seeks for her Gallant, and he o'my Lise  
Hath a mind to be feaguing you Vizor-Mask-Whore.  
But stay, let me see; by heavens 'tis so,  
That Mask hides a Lady I know,  
Who seems for to dote on Husband and Honour,  
But look there, Ned Ranter has just fixed upon her.  
2. She hath yielded, and see they do go.  
1. If Wives will do this,  
Give me the true Miss,  
She'd be hanged e'er she'd serve a Man so.  Chor. 
They're Fools than that Marry, and strive to consine  
In politic Chains what still will be free;  
No Fetters can hold a power that's Divine,  
Nor Shackles restrain great Love's Deity.   A Dance; and Exeunt Dancing. Manet Hon. and Rose. Hon. 
What would I give, Rose, to be a man but one Night, to see what pleasure there is in the inside of a Tavern; for sure, it must be something extraordinary makes Mre. Merry so continually delight in being there.  Rose. 
Faith, Madam, it is not hard to compass your wish.  Hon. 
What, to be a man for a Night?  Rose. 
Ay, to be a man as far as amounts to carry on the design of going to a Tavern; for I believe these honest good fellows never examine the inside of every man's Breeches that keep 'em Company.  Hon. 
Rose, you are a little too wanton.  Rose. 
Madam, you are a little too precise; why, 'tis the business of a Chambermaid to give hints of delight to her Lady when they are alone, and there is not one in ten, let them say what they will, but are pleased to hear something to the purpose sometimes.  Hon. 
Now out upon thee; I am afraid Mr. Townlove and you have had a conference lately, you are so apt to change my innocent discourse of a Tavern to matters nearer his purpose, in which I'll assure you I am not at all curious.  Rose. 
Well then, Madam, let that alone, and as to your observing the delights of a Tavern, I can put you in a way immediately to do it.  Hon. 
What, without being known!  Rose. 
Yes, Madam; for the Suits, Perriwiggs, Hats, and Swotds that are to go to your younger Brothers into the Country, came home last Night, and your Brother has not seen them I am confident, if you and I put them on, we shall never be suspected for any other than a couple of tied Bully Bocks.  Hon. 
But should we in this Habit intrude into their Company, I am afraid they'll make us drink, and I am not able to do that.  Rose. 
But I am, Madam, I'll warrant you as far as a Bottle or two, and you may put on Mr. Townlove's humour, at which I'll Quarrel, and that shall be our Excuse for leaving them before they agree to part.  Hon. 
Well, faith, I'll venture, for I long to satisfy my Curiosity.  Rose. 
Come, let's make haste to dress ourselves.  Exeunt. The end of the first Act.  

The Second Act.  Enter Muchland, Townlove, Merry, Fiddles, and Torches. Mer. 
STrike up, Boys, sound Alarm to the sleepy Sentinels of this Fortification.  
Ah, what Charms have those Eyes, etc.  They follow and make a noise. Enter Rash above. Rash. 
What, sober Mr. Muchland! I little suspected to have seen you at the head of a Troop of Fiddles and Torches, scouring of the Streets, and beating up of Quarters at such a time of Night.  Much. 
You see how powerful Example is, yet considering these honest Gentlemen, my Companions, I think this may be as becoming an Exercise, as the following a pack of Dogs all day so hard, to kill my Horses, and the Quarry only a rank Fox, for the noise of those we Hunt, which now is much more Musical.  Mer. 
Come, come, dress, dress, we are in great haste, and have much business to do before that great makebate, the Sun, who lights your Lawyers, Usurers, Scriveners, Merchants, and other formal fops to go together by the Ears, do rise.  Much. 
I am afraid we have disturbed your Sister with our noise.  Mer. 
Prithee, dear Muchland no fears, for let her be disturbed as much as she will, she'll take it for a sign of Love, to see that when her Servant is Rambling, he cannot choose but take her in his way, and let them never so much dislike the man that doth it, there was never one of them yet that was displeased at being beloved.  Rash. 
I am of your mind, Mr. Merry, they are the same in Lovers as they are in Footmen, so they have but enough to wear the Livery, they desire but one to do the business, and glory more in the Manies constant attendance, than they do in the one's ability for performing their How de's.  Town. 
Faith, Rash, thou art i'th' right; for till this way came up of keeping Misses, a Woman counted it a scandal to have but one Servant; 'tis true, they admitted them under the Name of Platonics, Friends, or Admirers, but would oblige them at the charge of their Lovers or Husbands, rather than lose their Visits; but since this impropriating of women's Flesh without Matrimony came in request, 'tis counted a greater disgrace amongst themselves to admit of two Gallants, then e'er it was for a married Woman to Cuckold her Husband. And Opinion being the sole Governor of men's Actions; I believe this to be the only way to introduce Chastity into the Female Sex again, and to secure men in the knowledge of their own Children.  Rash. 
I never knew you want an Argument to justify Wenching in my Life. But come in, and I'll Dress me.  Door opens. Mer. 
Sound a Charge, and Enter.  Ex. sing and Playing. Scena Secunda. Scene a Tavern. Enter Ruffle, Tullam, and Brief, as from Play with a Drawer; Ruffle with some Dice in his hand. Ruff. 
Sir, ne'er tell me o''at, Sir, you're 〈◊〉 of Cheats, and I'll have my money again, or I'll so swinge you.  Ful. 
Good Mr. Ruffle consider this Gentleman as a mere Stranger to me, and that money I have won of you, I have it fairly, and will keep it too in spite of your counterfeit Courage.  Aside. Ruff. 
Conspiracy; a mere Conspiracy, what the Devil, is not here a die hath nothing but five upon it: here another with two six, and there a third with two Quatres, and two Tre's? I tell you 'tis a plain Conspiracy, and I will have my money again.  Brief. 
Sir, you know I am a mere Stranger to him, and met you at the Coffeehouse by chance, and truly, considering I have lost all my money I might just suspect.  Ruff. 
Suspect, ha', what would you suspect? ha'!  〈◊〉. 
Suspect, Sir, look you, if you go to that, Sir, I might suspect, 〈◊〉 that you drew me hither, and conspired together to get my 〈◊〉, Sir, 〈◊〉 considering those Dice I see there, that I might suspect, Sir.  Ruff. 
Sirrah, thou Varlet, dar'st thou talk thus to a Gentleman of my Quality, that can spend a thousand pounds per annum, and be ne'er the worse, that ever I should light into the Company of a Slave that sponges at Ordinaries upon the winning hands for his Bread: begs to go six pence upon 7, to 5, and being broke by paying Laundress, or Lodging, sets up again with a new borrowed half-Crown.  Brief. 
Good Mr. Ruffle, be more civil; you know I brought you into the House a Guinney, sixteen shillings in silver, and a studdle Watch-Case, and Chain, and have lost them all; then methinks you might give me leave to speak for my money.  Ruff. 
Oh, Impudence! Drawer, what's to pay?  Draw. 
Three pounds, Sir.  Ruff. 
Lok you there, Rascal! is't likely you should be set by us to get the value you speak of; when the Reckoning comes to more. Thou Dog, I have lost fifty Guinneys, besides three pounds in silver; and you come in with your studdle Watch-Case and Chain, and we should design upon you in the Devil's name; very likely.  Brief. 
Sir, I have more money somewhere, and I believe all this heat is because I had no more about me to lose.  Ruff. 
Damned Rascal, dost provoke me? I'll kick thee up the Chimney.  Kicks him. Brief. 
Lord, Sir, pray, Sir, 〈◊〉, what d'ye mean, Sir? we shall talk about this anon.  Aside. Ful. 
Hold, Mr. Ruffle, this is not fair, nor must be here; we will have no Quatrelling, if I can help it.  Ruff. 
I vow to Gad, Mr. Fullam, you are a civil Gentleman, but there is no enduring of this Rogue; therefore, prithee give me leave to kick him out of the Company.  Brief. 
No, Sir, that need not, Sir; on Condition you'll threw those Dice out of the Window, I'll borrow five Guinneys of the Drawer, and lose them too, if it be my ill Fortune; but I'll assure you I'll look to the Dice we play with.  Ruff. 
Well then; Drawer, go to your master, and bid him send me twenty Guinneys.  Throws away the Dice. Draw. 
I shall, Sir.  Brief. 
And do you hear? bring me five.  Draw. 
It shall be done, Sir.  Ex. Drawer and Fullam. Brief. 
I protest, Mr. Ruffle, I am sorry I have offended you; for you know 'tis not my custom to Quarrel at the Ordinary, or any where else, but lose my money as quietly as men of better Estates do.  Ruff. 
Then this Fullam is a Rogue; but ' sore Heaven, if I take him at his tricks, I'll cut's Ears off, or have my money again.  Brief. 
You have reason; but Gad, I have some Tools here about me, as good Lows and Highs as e'er ran on smooth Table; Gad, you might, and you would serve him a trick for his trick.  Ruff. 
And will, by Heaven; lend me them then.  Brief. 
There, Sir, these are Lows, and these are High runners; you'll never find more than three run on these, nor less than fours on these.  Ruff. 
Then we'll to passage.  Brief. 
Come, Sir, let's into our Room, and seem angry still.  Exit. Ruff. 
What advantage have men of Courage over Cowards; how tame this Rogue is with his beating? I have got some Reputation for my money in huffing this Rogue.  Exit. Scene changes to a Hall. Enter Merry, Muchland, Betty, Rash, and Maid in Night Dress. Much. 
Madam, you see the Excellencies of these Fellows: Was not the Sport you have had worth waking for?  Betty. 
Yes, truly, Sir.  Mer. 
Faith, Madam, I never do worse than this; my Bottle, Fiddle, and Friend, are the Delights of my Life, and had not Cupid watched a time when I was sober, and shot me as I stood musing on this Gentleman's Sister, I think I should never have thought of other pleasures; but now spend at least two hours in the twenty four, in musing, sighing, hoping, wishing, and fearing.  Bet. 
A grievous affliction I'll assure you, Sir; and if I were able to persuade the Lady that has this interest in your heart two hours of the day, she should even release her part for altogether; for I think the twelfth part of a Man's heart is no more worth keeping then the twelfth part of a shilling, a sum too little to be bestowed on the meanest Beggar.  Mer. 
Ay, Madam, you speak of a heart that can be divided; but alas, 'tis not so in mine; she has right of common in the whole, every part is as much hers as any part, and she can enclose it when she pleases, being Lady of the Manor.  Much. 
But I am afraid you'd soon break down the Fences, and plead a prescription of Liberty, especially to that part that lies nearest the Watercourse.  Mer. 
What, a Lover! and in the presence of his Mistress, yet plead for the Adverse party! O, Monstrum Horrendum!  Much. 
Ay, Sir, a whole Lover may have Liberty to speak against the twelfth part of one, there is no proportion between 'em.  Bet. 
Sir, 'tis possible the twelfth part of one heart may be more than the whole of another.  Mer. 
Faith, Brother Mushland, I think there you are met with.  Much. 
I should be loath to think the Lady meant a comparison between your heart and mine; but if she did, I would be glad she would take the trouble of surveying both before she gave final Judgement in so difficult a cause.  Bet. 
Since I pretend a Title to neither, nor know any body that doth, you shall pardon me if I concern not myself about the Butts, Bounds, Quantity, or Quality of the premises.  Much. 
Madam, you that command so many hearts, you think to descend to the observation of particulars is below you; but since you will at last find it convenient to Build, you ought to survey well the place you intent to sit down upon.  Bet. 
Sir, you say well; and when I begin to think of that, I shall not fail to be very circumspect in my Choice.  Much. 
But do it quickly, Madam, Life's short, and if you intent to enjoy the fruit yourself, you must plant betimes.  Enter Rash and Townlove. Town. 
Madam, this Brother of yours is more circumspect in dressing himself for the Tavern, than Mr. Muchland was to come to his Mistress.  Bet. 
It is a sign he has a greater respect for the one, than Mr. Muchland has for the other.  Much. 
Nay rather, Madam, impute it to the excess of my desires, which prompted me to such haste, as I regarded nothing but the hopes of seeing you.  Rash. 
Come, let's away to the Rose, for 'tis almost Day; and 'tis more scandalous to enter a Tavern, then come out of one in a Morning.  Mer. 
'Tis true, had not we the laudable excuse of Fiddles and Link-Boys, which are infallible signs of no early Risers.  Rash. 
Well, all the Good Fellows we meet in the Street, and all that are in the Tavern are part of our Company, know 'em, or know 'em not.  Mer. 
Provided, they carry good Testimony that they rise not thus early about business, for if we meet any such, they or we must change sides of the way.  Bet. 
ne'er fear it, Gentlemen, such, if they meet you, will give you the way without Quarrelling; for if you look on 'em as Fools, they think as sure that you are Madmen.  Town. 
And with very good reason; and therefore, desiring I may be suspected for one of these foolish Men of business, I beg Liberty to give way to you Men of the Moonlight.  Mer. 
Be but a Madman to the Tavern, Townlove, and then go away like a Fool if thou wilt.  Town. 
Well, come on then; I will endure worse denominations than these, so I may but have my humour.  Mer. 
Come, Rogues, Rascals; come away, and sound a retreat to Mr. Muchland, who scarce marches off with flying Colours as I did from my Mistress.  Bet. 
Sir, I dare say he is no more without nopes than you are without Confidence.  Enter Fiddles and Torches. Much. 
No, Madam, in spite of Mr. Merry, I will not believe myself so miserable, as to be past all hopes.  Rash. 
Faith, Mr. Muchland, nor need not, if it be'nt your own fault.  Bet. 
Fie, Brother.  Rash. 
Fie, Sister; I'll tell thee, Muchland, she's more afraid of being forsaken, than you are of being slighted.  Much. 
I dare not think myself so happy.  Rash. 
You are a Fool then, let her deny what I said, if she can.  Bet. 
Brother, this is unsufferable.  Rash. 
Come, come, prithee come away, there is such fooling and dissembling with these Women.  Exeunt all but Betty and Maid, with Fiddles playing before 'em. Bet, 
This Brother of mine has so throughly vexed me, by discovering my inclination, that I shall not be able to sleep for thoughts of it.  Maid. 
Why should you be troubled, Madam, since methinks 'tis well he knows it, 'twill put an end to the business quickly.  Bet. 
But if he should slight me, I believe I should die.  Maid. 
ne'er fear that, Madam, you have him too fast.  Bet. 
Come, I will to bed; no more this Morning.  Exeunt. The Street Scene. Entes at one Door, Muchland, Townlove, Merry, and Rash: At the other, Honour and Rose in Men's clothes. Mer. 
Stand, who goes there?  Hon. 
Ah, Rose, 'tis they!  Rose. 
No matter; what are you that question who we are in such high Terms?  Mer. 
Are you men of business? For if you be, you must leave this side of the Street clear to us.  Hon. 
Gentlemen, do you think we look like persons that are sent to fetch Doctors, Apothecaries, or Midwives thus early; or, that we rise this Morning not to fail meeting at some zealous brothers, for the Spiritual comforts of a morning Lecture; no faith, we are men of no more business than yourselves.  Town. 
Are you Good Fellows, or Wenchers, that you are upon the Ramble so late?  Hon. 
Partly t'one, partly tother, like most of Mankind; but by what Authority do you examine us thus?  Rash. 
We have a Commission to take up all stragglers we meet, and carry them to the Rose Tavern.  Hon. 
Where, after Drinking all Night, you intent to take your Morning's Draughts; is't not so?  Much. 
'Tis true, that's the scope of our Commission.  Rose. 
We are for you then, though my friend here never Drinks; he's for pleasures of another Nature.  Town. 
I have Commission to Dispense him as well as myself, he being I find of our Brigade.  Mer. 
Fall into your places then.  Rose. 
But not so easily I believe, you will think we did not design to play the Philosophers: No, we are for mirth and madness, frolicks of some noise must tempt us to engage in your Company, else we are going to those that know truly how to be merry; men of mettle, that though they will not break Laws, have an Art of stretching of 'em as far as the best pleading Case Lawyer that wears a Coif—  Much. 
And that is further by half then any Shoemaker can his Leather; for they can fit Law to every Last.  Rose. 
Therefore in plain terms, Gentlemen, we must see some frolic performed that will convince we are not like to lose precious time in your Company, or we shall take you for some Constables, Churchwardens, Sides-men, and Overseers in Disguise, a going to Ferret, and set Toils for the tame Game of Whetstone's Park.  Town. 
Your scruples of Conscience are so weighty, there ought to be much care taken to solve the doubts.  Mer. 
Your Company seems so good, that let the Conditions be but possible on which we are to gain your acquaintance they shall be performed: What say we, shall we break Windows, pull down Signs, beat Constables, or fire the Church—  Town. 
Hold! Fire Coven-Garden Church; Heaven forbidden! If that should once be done, then should I be condemned never to hear Common-Prayer again.  Rash. 
And what a loss would that be to the Church, to have such a Pillar removed?  Town. 
Coven-Garden Church! It is the Theatre of Beauty, and Rendezvouz of Misses and Gallants. I dare avow 'tis a greater Advantage to Love's Empire then both the Playhouses are. No, I'll have no firing of Coven-Garden Church in my Company; any other Church in the Kingdom I think may be spared.  Hon. 
No, Gentlemen, these sort of frolicks we are not for; there's no venturing upon such without the security of as many Lives as a Cat; besides, we hate to be giving the lie to Reverend Men of the long Robe, in crying not guilty, my Lord.  Mer. 
Invent, invent then! What is't we must do?  Hon. 
Can you Dance all of you? The place is convenient here within the Piazza.  Much. 
We can do something like it, most of us.  Rose. 
I wish we had but a Bell then; we would wake all the People of the Piazza, and show 'em by our mirth, the difference between Living as we do, and dying; that is, Eating, Drinking, Sleeping, and Melancholy moving to no purpose, as they do.  Mer. 
We shall but lose time in looking for a Bellman, and I have a Trumpet here will make a greater noise; I carry it always with me, to sound at some particular Healths.  Hon. 
That will do much better, the rarity of it will beget more attention.  Mer. 
Come then, a Levite; my Man here has a Speech to go round with: I use it at my Friends Windows as I Ramble to my Lodgings a Mornings.  A Levite sounded. 
Come, I'll speak it first at this Corner myself, and then he shall about with it, whilst we fall to our Dance.  
GRave sober Sots rise from your Beds,  
And just thrust out your Loggerheads,  
With Eyes half shut, and senses dulled  
You'll see a little how you're gulled,  
And kept from pleasures of the Dark,  
By precepts wise of Lamb and Lark.  
But learn by us your Lives to mend,  
For Life is short, and time will end:  
And when you're dead, for what you do,  
Your merry Heirs will laugh at you.  
Morrow Mr. Scrape, Morrow Mrs. Scrape, Morrow Mr. Save-all, Morrow my Lord Sober, Morrow my Lady Pensive, Morrow Mr. Catch-good: Morrow, you Sleepers all, good Morrow.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Stand upon your Guard, gentlemans, the Constable and Watch are coming.  Mer. 
Let 'em come, I have a sure way to keep such Dogs from Barking, as can be; if our party be two strong, they fly off course; but if not, I take him by the hand, and cry good Mr. Constable don't you know me? Straight with the help of their horns they peep in my face, whilst he has time to consider that he is richer by half a Crown than he was; then, as in an ecstasy of Joy, he cries, ha', Sir, is it you? Will you have any of my Watch wait on you? Which I denying, we part with as many farewells, and good wishes to one another, as if we had tumbled together in one Belly, though it may be we ne'er saw one another's faces before.  Enter Constable and Watch. Const. 
Stand, who goes there?  Mer. 
No body.  Const. 
What, are all you no body?  Mer. 
I say, no body goeth here, for we are all standing.  Const. 
You are merry Gentlemen, but I shall alter your humour presently; come before the Constable one of you, keep the Peace in the King's Name, keep the Peace, I am his Majesty's Constable. Oh, I shall be killed, I am a dead Man: Oh, my Wife and Children: I'll have you all hanged if I be killed: I say, keep the Peace; in the King's Name, keep the Peace.  They all advance with their swords drawn, and away run the Watch. Mer. 
What, Mr. Last, is't you?  Const. 
Ay, an't please your Worship, your Worships own Shoemaker; good Sir, don't use me ill, your Worship's shoes are ready for you.  Town. 
Use thee ill! What, my man of midnight! Dost think we'll use thee ill? How does thy Wife and Daughter Joan? they are pretty Rogues both.  Const. 
Ay, Mr. Townlove, you are pleased to say so, but 'tis your goodness more than their desert truly; though indeed they always talk of your Worship, and are near falling out sometimes about you, in arguing which loves you best, but I to keep the Peace part them, and take my Daughter's part, because poor thing! My Wife is her Mother in Law, I hope your Worship will not be angry at it—  Town. 
No, no, Mr. Constable, by any means keep the King's Peace within doors, it will keep itself without.  Mer. 
Come, Mr. Last, how many Prisoners have you that are not able to pay Ransom? I am resolved to Act the Justice, and set all at Liberty after due Examination.  Const. 
Why truly, Sir, we have only took four Gentlewomen, which we were carrying to the Round-house; I'll make the Watch bring 'em before your Worship— Bring the Prisoners.  Enter Watch with four Prisoners. Mer. 
Come, Madam, turn up your head, and let's see your face very well! What is your employment?  Town. 
Prithee Merry, be not impertiennt, what should a pretty Woman's employment be? Let me speak to her; Come, Madam! fear nothing if you tell Truth: Are you a Park, Playhouse, or Street-plyer? Do you Live upon Industry, or are you kept?  1. Wom. 
I am kept, Sir.  Town. 
What makes you out at this time of Night?  
This may be my own case.  Aside. 1. Wom. 
I am kept by one that allows me but forty shillings a week, and makes at least ten Guinneys of me; for he bargained I should admit any Friend of his, and he brings almost every day a new one, and sometimes two or three, with whom he keeps so good Intelligence, that whatsoever they give me, I can never sink a single shilling for Coach-hire; he sometimes lets me out too, as it happened this Night, to a Country Parson, whose Landlady suspecting the matter, and Jealous of losing any thing herself, turned me out of doors without a penny of Money, so I fell into the Watch's hands, and I hope, since you seem a civil Gentleman, you will redeem me, for it will be very injurious to my Honour to go to the Round-house.  Town. 
Thy Honour shall be as safe as a Thief in a Mill, ne'er fear it; Come, Madam! Your Quality.  2. Whore. 
My business lieth altogether in the City, Sir; for I find them the best Customers.  Mer. 
But how struck you into that Trade?  2. Who. 
Truly, by mere chance, Sir; for sitting one day in Masque at the Playhouse, in the middle Gallery, some Clerks began to talk wildly to me, till an Ancient, Grave Man, who proved since to be a Packer to Merchants, rebuked them, and said, their Discourse was sinful; then giving me a tread on the Toe, and a pinch on my Arm, went out; I followed him, hoping he'd prove lucky, and so he did, for besides his own bounty, he hath brought me acquainted with so many Rich Citizens, that I have more work than I can turn to, though I confess they being most Old, I have dispatched half a score sometimes in a day.  Mer. 
But after your abundance of Trading at that, how came you to this end of the Town?  2. Who. 
Truly, Sir, I Love a Young Gentleman that I keep, whom I came to see, and having given him all the money I had, I was going back to turn the penny.  Town. 
A very honest, industrious Woman this, she shall have no harm: Come, let's see, what's your business?  3. Who. 
You sha'not see my Face, I'll go to Prison sooner:  Const. 
Ay, ay, she's a stubborn Jade, and called me Cuckold.  3. Who. 
And so you are one, to use poor Women thus: Mr. Townlove, let me speak with you— 'Tis I—  Town. 
Truly, Mr. Last, I think she speaks to the purpose in calling of you Cuckold, for this usage she shall not show her Face. Will Merry, 'tis his Wife.  Mer. 
The Devil 'tis; 'twas lucky than we met, or how would she have got off.  Town. 
She'd have said it was to watch his haunts she came abroad, or some such thing— she would have tamed him quickly, for 'tis a very Devil of her Tongue, and Cuckolds him almost before his Face.  Mer. 
Well, who are you?  4. Wom. 
A very good Gentlewoman both born and bred; I am a Presbyterian Minister's Daughter.  Mer. 
A substantial Title to Gentility, who will say after this the Crown is the Fountain of Honour, when they that pulled it down can make Gentlewomen.  Town. 
'Tis possible her own Employment doth mote entitle her to it, therefore let's know that.  4. Wom. 
Sir, I have had a great mind to be a Player, and have offered myself to both Houses, and truly most of the sharers have had me severally at their Chambers to try me, and they all say, I do very well; but 'tis the Envy of the Women already there, that fearing I should outdo 'em, keep me out, as I was told by two or three of the hired men of the Duke's House, with whom I have been to Night, and spent all my money, but I do not doubt to find Friends to bring it about, for there are two or three Persons of Quality have undertaken it.  Mer. 
Nay, then there's no fear of succeeding.  4. Wom. 
No, I hope not; alas, I desire little or nothing for my pains, I would only show myself on the Stage, and then, perhaps, I may get a good Husband, or at least, some Fool that will keep me.  Mer. 
Honest good Women all; and are not you hardhearted to disturb the Lawful endeavours of such well-minded People, Mr. Constable— Well, there are Resolutions taken by some Gentlemen of my Acquaintance to make you keep closer to your Lawful business— which is indeed to cry Fire, prevent House-breaking, and snore on Stalls according to your primitive institution, and not to set to Ransom, or Imprison People industriously improving the two great works of Whoring and Drinking. War is declared, and shall be carried on against all the Obstructions of Trade, as you shall hear in a Song lately published, in which all must bear their parts.  

Song.  
1. THe Trade of wine is much decayed of late;  
The Vintners complain, and the Customs abate,  
For Pickaroon Billman in every Street,  
Like Capers make prize of all Traders they meet.  
2. Come then, 'tis time to scour alongst the Coast;  
To re-take good Fellows, who else may be lost:  
‛ I is Lawful those Foes to invade,  
Who rob us of Honour, and hinder our Trade;  
And a damned Zealous Constable 'midst of his Watchmen  
Does Trading more harm, than a Squadron of Dutchmen;  
1. Weigh Anchor then, and hoist up Sail;  
Nore and by West it blows a merry Gale.  
2. The Glass is run, ho, starboard, Watch, turn out;  
Hark, did you hear, that Gun was from a Scout.  
Run to the top,  
3. hay Boys, I see a Fleet,  
They bear hard up to us; we quickly shall meet.  
1. All hands to prayers, and make ready to fight,  
2. You need not, their Flags are all white;  
That Colour denotes them for Wine or a Wench;  
All Half-shirts are for us, as sure as the French.  
They hale our Scouts, methinks I hear 'em call,  
1. Whence your Fleet?  
3. From White-Hall.  
1. Whence your Fleet?  
3. From Whitehall.  
1. We are Friends to 'em, then cry, Huzza.  
2. Once again, Huzza.  
1. And again, Huzza.  
3. They are Friends to us, then cry, Huzza.  
3. Once again, Huzza.  
3. Once again, Huzza.  
4. And again, Huzza, huzza, huzza.  
Now we are all met, let's draw into a Line;  
Charge every man his Glass of Wine,  
'Tis our Royal high Admiral's Health,  
Whilst we drink all Night,  
He does Hero-like Fight,  
To rescue the Kingdom's Honour and Wealth.  
Let Trumpets sound, and all at once give Fire,  
If the Enemy comes, we'll soon make 'em Retire.  
1. Let's Charge them again, for a Health to the King.  
2. They come, they come, their Bellman does Ring.  
3. Their Caps, Staves, and Lanterns I spy,  
They've horns in their Flags, and they bear 'em on high.  
4. Fall on then, fall on, tan tara rara, etc.  
1. They fly, they fly.  
2. Then give a Broadside, and cry, Vive le Roy, Vive le Roy.  
2. Give the Broadside, etc.   Town. 
Now these four Gentlewomen will make our Dance the better.  Dance. Mer. 
Come, to every Lady a Link and a Watchman for safeguard to their Lodgings.  3. Wom. 
Except me, Sir, mine is not far off.  Mer. 
'Tis true, you shall only have one of my Links; Mr. Constable, no more Prisoners to Night, as you tender my good Grace; and there's a Crown to Drink.  Const. 
we'll know no other Justice hereafter but your, Sir.  Mer. 
Now every one to their several abidings, and we for the Rose, sound a Charge, and let's assault the place.  Exeunt omues.  

The Third Act.  The Scene a Tavern. Enter Ruffle, Brief, Fullam, and Drawer. Ruff. 
COme, come, Sir, these are no Jesting matters, I'll not be cheated of all my Money thus.  Ful. 
How do you mean cheated, Mr. Ruffle?  Ruff. 
How do I mean? Did I not find a die with all Sinks, and others of the like Nature?  Ful. 
I love you for that, I'faith, Mr. Ruffle, I hope you don't take me for a Cully.  Ruff. 
Nor shall you make me one, if I can help it, and therefore, say, was there not such Dice here? we'll find afterwards who brought 'em in.  Ful. 
I saw no such Dice, not I  Brief. 
Nor I, I'll assure you.  Ruff. 
hay day, here's fine Rogues; Drawer, did not you see the Dice I speak of?  Draw. 
No, Sir, not I; 'tis true, I heard you say some such thing, but I could not believe Gentlemen would put false Dice upon one another.  Ruff. 
No, but Cheats will.  Ful. 
How do you mean, Sir, I say? Cheat again! war the third time, Mr. Ruffle.  Ruff. 
I say, this Gentleman and I are Cheated, and by you, that's plain, and if he'll be ruled by me, you shall not carry it off so.  d Ful. 
I can endure no longer: Come, come, come, draw, raw, Sir, for I will have satisfaction for this abuse.  Draw. 
I'll bear no witness.  Exit Draw. Ruff. 
Are you for that sport?  
We'll swinge you:  
Do you think to carry it off so?  
This is brave i'faith.  
First, Cheated, and then Hectored;  
Suffer this, and suffer all.  All this while be bast'es about, throws his Hat away, pulls off his Periwig, and seems to be preparing to fight. 
Come, Sir, why don't you prepare? Do you see how he braves us?  To Brief. Brief. 
What do you mean, Sir?  Ruff. 
we'll beat him, take out money again, and then have him tossed in a Blanket.  Brief. 
I shall not slain my Honour in being two against one.  Ruff. 
I am cross bit I see.  Aside. 
Nay, I can as well spare what I lost, as you can yours, and it shall ne'er be said, I fought to recover another's money, that would do nothing for it himself; give me your hand, Mr. Fullam, I am very glad 'twas your Fortune to get it, since it is mine to lose it.  Full. 
This is but trivial satisfaction, Sir, for the abuses you have put upon me.  Ruff. 
Hang't, Man, Passion, mere Passion; give losers leave to speak, I would take twice as much for half the money, and I think I value my Honour as much as another (if I can but get off with Credit now.)  Aside. Ful. 
Well, Sir, I think you speak Reason, therefore, pay the Reckoning, and we are Friends.  Ruff. 
How do you mean, Mr. Fullam? Have not you got all the money?  Ful. 
And will keep it, Sir; therefore resolve to pay the Reckoning, or—  Ruff. 
Plague on't, I ne'er value three or four pounds; and it may be thou hast particular occasion for this sum of money at present, then we'll ne'er stand upon small matters, I'll do't. But for you, Sir, I'll talk with you for your Highs and Lows.  Aside. Brief. 
Very pretty, i'faith, a well framed Dialogue: Good Mr. Ruffle, 'tis too plain; do you think your counterfeit Quatrels shall carry it off so? I shall stand by, and see myself cheated of my meney, and take it kindly I have lost it, because you can Rally one another.  Ful. 
What do you mean by this, Sir?  Brief. 
Sir, you are a stranger to me, and I can't blame you for what you have done; but to be set and bubled by Mr. Ruffle, on pretence of Friendship, is unsufferable.  Ruff. 
What the Devil, is not one kicking enough for you in one Night? Must I be bound to wear out my shoes upon you?  Brief. 
Come, come, Sir, I know when to take a kicking, and when not. I bore with it then, in hopes you would have so managed the Dice I lent you, as to have won money for me, but on the contrary, you placed 'em upon ourselves: therefore, Sir, refund, refund, I'll not lose a groat of the money I lost.  Ruff. 
But sure you don't hope to carry it off so: Have I any of your money?  Brief. 
But your Friend hath for your use, and I'll look no further than yourself for it; therefore, my money, or Draw.  Ful. 
'Fore Heaven this is pretty; than it seems you both designed upon me.  Brief. 
Come, Sir, will you repay me?  Enter Drawer. Draw. 
Mr. Ruffle, here is a great many Gentlemen with Fiddles, hearing you were here, are resolved to come up to you.  Ruff. 
What shall I do? Gentlemen, step into another Room, I'll come and give you full satisfaction presently.  Brief. 
Well, Sir, I am content to wait a little.  Ex. all but Ruff. Ruff. 
The Devils in my luck, I never get a little Reputation by beating a Man, but presently some body or other huffs me out of it again, and then all my Honour flies in Fumo. 'Tis true, I am a Coward, but no body need ere a known it but myself, if I had not a foolish desire to be thought valiant, and so must still be picking Quarrels with all I think like myself. And I gad, 'tis not once in twenty times, but I miss my Man and get a beating.  Enter Merry, Townlove, Rash, Muchland, Honour, Rose, and Fiddles. Mer. 
What, Ruffle alone in a Tavern at four in a Morning, that's a thing I ne'er was guilty of.  Rash. 
Come, come, Table and Chairs.  Ruff. 
Faith, Will Merry, to tell thee the truth, I have been bubbling a couple of Culleys to Night, and the poor things having lost all their money are staying for more in another Room.  Mer. 
Faith, that doth not use to be thy way, for I have known thee ostner a Bublee then a Bubler.  Ruff. 
That's true, but when I grant out my Letters of Mart to my Highs and Lows, there's no Man sooner takes in reprisal than I; and I'faith, they have been all at work to Night.  Mer. 
What have you won?  Ruff. 
Let me see; fifty Guinneys, three pounds in silver, and twenty Guinneys more they borrowed of the Master of the House.  Mer. 
And did they not smoak you, as their term is?  Ruff. 
Yes, a little; but one of 'em beginning to prate, I kicked him sound.  Mer. 
Thou Boy; now I believe nothing of the whole matter: Thou venture to kick a Man, 'tis impossible.  Ruff. 
Why, this 'tis, because I am a little complisant sometimes, and put up injuries from Gentlemen, therefore, you, it seems, have mean thoughts of me, but you shall hear; come hither, Stephen.  Draw. 
Your pleasure, Sir.  Ruff. 
Did not you see me kick a Gentleman sound to Night for talking to me of Cheating?  Draw. 
Yes, Sir, I'll assure you, I was afraid you would hurt him.  Ruff. 
And was not there twenty Guinneys borrowed of your Master?  Draw. 
Yes, Sir; and five of me.  Ruff. 
That's true (go thy ways) law you now, I had forgot that five Guinneys.  Mer. 
Miracles, Miracles, Miracles, give us Wine there; Miracles are not ceased: Here's a Health to Ruffle's Conversion, Townlove; thou shalt pledge this, if thou never drinkest more.  All this while Ruffle struts about. Town. 
Faith, Sir, you must pardon me, if I don't know some great cause for it.  Mer. 
Thy Ear.  Ruff. 
Come, gentlemans, you know he is a merry Man every way, let him have his frolic: Lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, Sir, my Service to you, Will Merry's Health.  Hon. 
Sir, I drink no Wine.  Ruff. 
Dam, not pledge me, Sir, 'fore Heaven but you must, or I shall throw it in your face.  Much. 
Good Sir, be not rude, the Gentleman has our word to excuse him.  Ruff. 
If he hath your word, let him pass it. lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, la.  Hon. 
Sir, I commend it to you.  Rash. 
I never drink by Commendations, Sir.  Ruff. 
Well done, Boy; here's another milksop: What, can't he drink neither?  Rose. 
Yes, Sir, or any thing else with you that you dare.  Ruff. 
'Fore Heaven a Lad of mettle; give me thy hand: Here's a health to all that dare, and a fig for men that dare not do any thing.  Rose. 
Sir, I'll pledge it.  Mer. 
Some Wine, there; give every one of the Music a glass in his hand  Town. 
Mr. Ruffle, I congratulate the change, and if I have any interest in my Lady Turnip, she shall be yours, since the only obstacle is removed.  Ruff. 
Faith, Mr. Townlove, you see men will show themselves such one time or other. Alas, the stoutest Bully Rock of 'em all ne'er went to single Rapier in swaddling clothes, they had all a time to begin: Lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, la.  Mer. 
You are i'th' right, Mr. Ruffle; come, the Catch.  

Song.  

1. BOy, bring a Glass without marks, to confine  
The Ebbs and the Floods of our Drinking;  
Our Cups shall be heaped with a full-tide of Wine,  
Till our Tongues do speak wit without thinking.   

2. We will with Wines, Aetherial fire,  
Like subtle Chemists, Bodies change;  
That without words each man's desire  
Shall through the others fancy range.  
1. Wine shall wash off our Earthly parts,  
And to new Creatures mould us;  
2. We'll take off our Bowls,  
Till we mingle our Souls,  
And the World grows too little to hold us.  Chor. 
We'll, etc.  
1. All hands to work then, time slides away,  
Night chides our sloth, and hastens on the day;  
2. Then the Sun will bring heat  
For our Limbeck so high,  
And make our Elixir in fumo to fly.   

1. Hark, do you hear, the Men cry Chimney sweep;  
Fanatic Wives will now no longer sleep;  
Strange Dreams of Religion have waked 'em by this:  
In heat of their zeal  
They'll presently rail  
At every thing is, and is not amiss.  
2. Be sure if they see us, of Custom they'll say,  
We turn Day into Night, and Night into Day;  
1. In this they are right;  
we'd turn Day into Night;  
But they lie, if they say,  
That we would e'er wish to turn Night into Day.   Chor. 
In this, etc.   Mer. 
Bravely done, Boys; now to a little silent drinking: Townlove, you keep a good man from us.  During the Catch Townlove and Rose talk together. Town. 
I'll release him presently.  
Faith, Sir, you see I have opened my heart to you, in hopes to make you my Friend, for there is something in your face pleases me extremely.  Rose. 
I am obliged to you by it, and shall as much seek to deserve it; but methinks three hundred pounds a year is considerable to allow you Mistress, if you pay it constantly.  Town. 
I never fail you may be sure, whosoever stays, she must not. A dun between a pair of Sheets makes a man more impotent than a Witches tying of a Country Fellows Cod-piece-point.  Rose. 
Well, Sir, for my own part, I never understood the pleasure of keeping Misses, I'm for othermen, if for any.  Town. 
I believe your Friend is not of your mind; he, I perceive by his refusing to drink, is for his Miss; can you let me know who she is?  Rese. 
Truly, Sir, I know of none he hath, he's Young, and rather talks of Marriage than Misses.  Town. 
Why, there's the mischief on it; he's new come from the University, or I'll be hanged; there's more of our hopeful Youth spoiled by Schools and Universities then is imaginable; they learn nothing but to tread the dull paths of our Forefathers, to bury themselves alive in Marriage-Beds, to arise Monsters with huge Horns on their heads; if you have any kindness for him reclaim him from such a design.  Rose. 
I have used my endeavours, and find him a little inclining to be kind to one Rose, that waits on Mr. Muchland's Sister.  Town. 
Gad, Sir, I had rather he had a mind to be kind, as you call it, to my Sister, and sooner should forgive him for it  Rose. 
Why, Sir, what is she to you?  Town. 
She's one I have a mind to, and am resolved if three hundred pounds a Year will tempt her, she shall be mine; provided, he, nor no other smock-faced Fellow hath been Quartered upon her afore hand.  Rose. 
How'l you know that, if it is so?  Town. 
P'shaw, ne'er ask questions of an Old Gamester; and I'm resolved, since my present Miss is to be married, I'll pursue my design upon Rose, to prevent yond smock-faced Fellow, of whom I have dreadful apprehensions.  Rose. 
Well, Sir, trouble not yourself, I'll take care he shall remove his Siege.  Mer. 
Townlove, thou thinkest we have nothing else to do but to talk; release our man there, that you have taken Prisoner by the Ears.  Town. 
Well, take him, but 'tis a thousand pities he should be spoilt by you.  Rose. 
I'll warrant you, Sir, I am passed their spoiling.  Town. 
Gentlemen, I have performed my word with you; and so farewell.  Exit Town. Mer. 
Farewell; you have returned us a better man for our present purpose.  Rash. 
Sir, you're in a rear, and since you allow drinking to be your profession, you must balance Accounts, and pay down what you owe.  Rose. 
I'll assure you, Sir, I am but just begun to be a professor in the Mystery, therefore, if you call for Debs too soon, you'll break me, and I shall ne'er be able to follow the Trade, then let's now go on, I'll run in a rear no further, and the next time I meet you I'll balance Accounts.  Much. 
Come, the Gentleman saith well, 'tis not our business to be drunk, but to be merry; therefore, let's not break Methods at the present for any thing past.  Rash. 
But, Mr. Muchland, by your leave I desire no man to be a sober observer of my drunken behaviour, therefore, if he and his Friend will not drink equally, I should be glad of their rooms.  Hon. 
Sir, as I take it, it was your own fault you had our Companies, and the terms we met on were agreed to before.  Rash. 
Not by me, I'm sure.  Ruff. 
Nor by me, therefore if you won't drink, turn out of the Company.  Much. 
Sir, I must tell you this is rude, and no ways becoming a Gentleman.  Ruff. 
How, Sir, what's that, Rude? La, lafoy, la.  Rash. 
'Tis strange to see how men can see others faults, and be blind to their own; you tell Mr. Ruffle he's Rude for speaking in his own Room, into which you intrude to control him.  Ruff. 
Alas, alas, the Gentleman's lately come out of the Country, he doth not understand good breeding; lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, poor thing.  Much. 
Mr. Rash, I can take more from you; but—  Rash. 
But what; out with it, I'm your man, ne'er look at him, and I must again tell you, that I believe you want good manners so to control; here I say, these Gentlemen shall drink, or quit the Room.  Hon. 
And will, Sir, no fear; we do not at all hold ourselves obliged by Quarrelsome Company: Drawer, what's to pay?  Mer. 
Gentlemen, nothing for you; I am sorry to have engaged you thus inconveniently, I'll assure you 'tis rare for me to see these things, especially amongst Friends.  Hon. 
We thank you, Sir, and all others from whom we have received Civility.  [Exeunt Hon. and Rose. Ruff. 
Dam, what's that, Civility? They deserve to be kicked.  Much. 
What, by you?  Rash. 
I, by him; and 'tis not you can hinder it.  Ruff. 
No, by heavens is it not, nor two such, dear heart.  Much. 
Sir, if I should tell you you lie, I'm afraid Mr. Rash would call me rude, but I cannot forbear thinking so.  Rash. 
Sir, you provoke me to tell you, you're fit Company for Dogs and Horses, and not for men, except 'tis your own Grooms, o'er whom you had best go and domineer in the Country.  Much. 
Sir, you know my Obligations, or else—  Rash. 
Or else what?  Ruff. 
Or else what? Poor thing: Or else what prithee? La, lafoy, la.  Much. 
Or else that.  Throws a Pipe at him. Ruff. 
Dam, Blood, that; death and wounds, let me alone, nothing shall save him.  Would draw, but is held. Mer. 
Gad, Sir, be as Valiant as you will, I'll swinge you if you be not quiet.  Rash. 
Mr. Ruffle, the affront was meant to me; be quiet, Sir, we desire no Quarrels here, and therefore you or I will quit the Room.  Walks to and again in a great Rage. Much. 
You pretend a right to it by the interest of your huffing Friend, therefore I'll quit it, And the World too, rather than take this.  Aside. Exit. Mer. 
— Sir, I'll see you at Home presently. Mr. Ruffle, have you no body to Exercise your setting out towards Valour upon but my Friends?  Ruff. 
Friend me no Friends, I know no Friends in point of Honour, that's it I'll stick to.  Mer. 
Then I must tell you, Sir, you and I must not part before I carry my Friend satisfaction in your Blood, or lose my own.  Ruff. 
Will Merry, thou pretendest to be a man of Honour, and place these things upon me, 'tis very well, I'faith, thou thinkest now that I am not Valiant, and therefore pickest a Quarrel, but it sha'not pass, no, it sha'not, for do what thou wilt, I will not fight with thee.  Mer. 
Then thou art a Coward still, as rank a one as ever, and I lose time to talk to thee.  Ruff. 
Ay, think so, do; I a Coward, 'tis likely, dear heart.  Mer. 
Mr. Rash, I hope to see you and Mr. Muchland Friends soon.  Rash. 
I shall take little thought about it, so let's part; Good Morrow, Mr. Ruffle.  Ruff. 
I, good Morrow; Huff me— Good Morrow, Mr. Merry, lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, huff me.  Exeunt. The Scene a Chamber. Enter Rose in Man's clothes, Honour in a Nightgown. Hon. 
ne'er tell me on't, I'm confident some unlucky thing will happen, for I ne'er perceived my Brother more angry in my Life; I wish we had not gone.  Rose. 
I am rather glad we were there; for, knowing of the Quarrel, we can take care to prevent the effects of it.  Hon. 
But we were the occasions of it, you know.  Rose. 
Faith, Madam, I think not, for Mr. Rash was in such'a Quarrelsome humour, and that vapouring Gentleman did so push it on, that I am confident had not we been there the same thing would have happened.  One Knocks. Hon. 
Who's there?  Much. 
within. Sister, I would speak with you.  Hon. 
Immediately. 'Tis my Brother, what shall we do?  Rose. 
I'll stepped into the Closet, and hearken, and then go down the back-stairs.  Exit Rose. Honour opens the Door. Enter Muchland. Much. 
Sister, since I left you, I have had more cause to consider the consequence of your marrying Mr. Merry then ever I had before, therefore I desire to know what thoughts you have of him.  Hon. 
Truly, Brother, I cannot pretend an aversion to a Gentleman you commanded me to favour as your Friend, and one you designed I should marry, though further I am no ways engaged.  Much. 
I am glad to see your indifferency, for by this morning's work I find you can no ways hope for that happiness I once thought you might expect in being his; the Company he keeps is bad, and the consequences will attend it must be worse, therefore admit of no further addresses from him, which the better to prevent, you shall towards Yorkshire to morrow.  Hon. 
To morrow, Sir?  Rose. 
If so, 'tis time for me to bestir myself.  Aside. Exit. Much. 
I, Sister, 'twill save you some blushes for so abrupt a breaking with him, and I have hopes to live to give you full satisfaction for this change, and to bestow you on one may more deserve you.  Hon. 
The manner of your Discourse doth much surprise me, and seems very mysterious; I hope there is no cause those hopes you speak of should prove doubtful ones.  Much. 
Sister, I cannot tell, but I desire, let things go how they will, that you'd prepare yourself for all may happen.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Sir, a Gentleman without desires to speak with you.  Much. 
Admit him in.  Enter Rose. Rose. 
Sir, your Noble proceed in so Generously defending strangers hath bound me for ever to your Service. And fearing lest your Generosity hath too far engaged you in our behalves, I am come to offer you the assistance of my Sword, thinking I should but ill become the wearing it, if any other should be drawn, and not it in my own Quarrel.  Much. 
Sir, you are truly Noble, and I have just occasion to give thanks to that unlucky Accident, since it produced me the Acquaintance of so worthy a Person.  Rose. 
Sir, your own demeanour is enough to inspire worth into a Person that Naturally wants it, and if I have any, I shall impute it to the Example I received this day from you; but to avoid Compliments, of which I am a bad returner, I beg you would employ me.  Much. 
Sir, if I do, it shall be in an Office in which there shall on your part, be no hazard: Sister, I desire you would entertain this Gentleman, whilst I step into your Closet to write a Letter.  Rose. 
Madam, you can no ways believe the great Obligations I have received this day from your Noble Brother.  In a high voice. 
But, Madam, not to lose time, I will so mix myself amongst them, it shall be impossible, but I'll prevent all mischief.  Low.. Hon. 
I, but the Country, and to leave Mr. Merry, Rose, I am grown desperate with the thoughts of it.  Rose. 
Prepare yourself to go abroad, and leave the rest to me.  In a small voice. 
Madam, I dare assure your Ladyship 'tis no such matter; and upon my Honour, there is no man in the World shall be more careful of Mr. Muchland's safety, than myself.  In a high tone. Hon. 
You seem a Gentleman to be relied on.  Aloud. 
But, Rose, if Mr. Merry should be concerned in the Quarrel after our leaving them, what then?  Rose. 
I'll warrant you, Madam, as I'll contrive the matter, he shall be better Friends with Mr. Merry, then ever.  Low.. 
For truly, Madam, I observed nothing but a little heat about mine, and my Friend's Intrution, that was all; and—  Aloud. Enter Muchland with a Letter. Much. 
Sir, I desire you to deliver this Paper for me where 'tis directed; I beg your pardon for its being Sealed, since it is rather to rectify some mistakes between that Gentleman and I, then to pursue them further, though, I confess, if he continues his resentments, I had rather you were witness of them then any other Person wholly a stranger to their first beginnings.  Rose. 
Sir, I am proud that you are pleased to employ me any way: Your Ladyships Servant.  Exit Rose. Hon. 
But dear Brother, let me beg you, if any thing hath happened between Mr. Merry and you, that causes this sudden avertion, let me know it, that I may with Justice root out of my mind that little esteem your Friendship to him, and his merit hath planted there.  Much. 
There is nothing, upon my word, Sister, but my consideration of this happiness hath begot the change I have expressed.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Sir, here is a Letter, a Porter brought, he saith, from the Rose Tavern.  
Muchland Reads.  
SIR,  
THE Injuries I received from you are unsupportable, nor can a man of Honour, as I profess, and shall ever testify myself to be, put them up; therefore, I desire you would meet me singly with your Sword in your hand, at the lower side of Hyde-park, at six this morning, where I doubt not to make you know what it is to Injure the Valiant, and place abuses upon the Worthy, in the first Rank of which I shall always be ambitious, to have the Name subscribed of  
Ruffle.  
'Tis damned unlucky this, I wish I had not sent my Letter to be Challenged to the same place whither I desired Mr. Sharp to come; but stay, six of the Clock, this is an hour sooner than I appointed, that's well; for if I be killed by this first, I shall die the more contentedly, in not having fought my Mistress' Brother, and if I survive, I shall be in a condition to make good my word to him. Sister, prepare for your Journey, and if you have any kindness for yourself, think not on Mr. Merry.  Exit. Hon. 
Not think of him, that's impossible; should my Father's Soul rise from the Grave, and bid me to forget him, I could not do it. No, Brother, his worth hath placed him here too fast to be by small dislikes of yours removed.  Exit. The Scene a Tavern. Enter Ruffle, Fullam, and Brief. Ruff. 
Gentlemen, you have had your design upon me, what would you more? We all know one another too. I believe that is not to place approbrious Names upon our own Qualities. I take you two to be men that will live, if Dice and Cards will do it; and I am confident you take me to be one that have no mind to leave a thousand pounds a Year before. I must needs, and therefore am something backwards in fight matters.  Ful. 
To speak the truth, Mr. Ruffle, I believe you.  Brief. 
And I.  Ruff. 
Now I dare swear, if you would confess, there's neither of you love fight any more than I do.  Ful. 
I'll assure you, Sir, my Reputation was never questioned.  Ruff. 
That I believe, for like the subtle Squirrel, you foresee where the Wind will be, and change your Nest accordingly; but I have a plaguy damned humour of desiring to be thought Valiant, which makes me provoke the beat, I else might go without.  Brief. 
Then you deserve them, Mr. Ruffle; but I am so wise, never to regard a beating I get by.  Ruff. 
Well, Gentlemen, to continue the good correspondence our mutual knowing one another hath begun, I have a business to employ you in, which you effecting dextrously, will deserve I should make the sum you have got from me already, a complete hundred pounds.  Ful. 
Name it, Mr. Ruffle.  Brief. 
And doubt us not.  Ruff. 
I have sent a Challenge to Mr. Muchland, who, I fear, will meet me: Now, if you two will watch him into the Field.  Ful. 
And kill him for you, you'll give us twenty pounds.  Brief. 
A very modest request to begin Friendship with.  Ful. 
Troth, Sir, I have no mind to sing doleful Ditties through a slip knot, not I  Brief. 
Nor have I any ambition to attain the Title of a proper Gentleman, as I Ride in Triumph on a two wheeled Chariot.  Ful. 
No, Sir, as long as the Town is full of Gallants like you, that dare venture their thousands against our nothings, we shall not be so distressed, as to turn Bravoes.  Ruff. 
Gentlemen, you run on apace, but 'tis all upon a false scent; why, I ne'er desired the Death of any Man in my Life, and wonder at those they call Men of true Honour, that make no more of killing a Man for refusing a Health, than I do to eat my Breakfast: Yet, since the Town praises these hare-brains as Men of worth, I have a huge ambition to be thought one of 'em, so I could but obtain it without the danger of myself or Antagonist.  Ful. 
Nay, if your design be bounded within the compass of human safety, I'm for you.  Brief. 
And ten pounds shall ne'er be slighted by me, coming with the hazard only of a walk into the Fields.  Ruff. 
Then Gentlemen, as I said, dog him thither, and when we are both drawn, appear as taking his part against me, place it upon him, as if he had hired you; thus our Quarrel will end, and you shall have your money.  Brief. 
If this be all, come away, we're agreed, I warrant you.  Ruff. 
But carry it discreetly.  Ful. 
ne'er, ne'er fear us; alone, alone, alone, come.  Exeunt. The Fourth Act. Enter Rash and Betty. Rash. 
SIster, I protest his behaviour was unsupportable, he took upon him, as if he had had a right to domineer o'er the whole Company.  Betty. 
'Tis strange, I never observed his tempt much to incline to Pride.  Rash. 
Not before you, but these Country Gentlemen are so used to control by the virtue of being Justices, that what with their positiveness on one side, and their want of Breeding on the other, a Man had as good keep Company with a Constable in midst of his Billmen, as with one of them.  Enter Rose. Rose. 
Sir, I am come to wait on you, a thing I should not have omitted on my own account, though I now am here but as a Messenger.  Delivers him a Letter, which he reads. 
Madam, I beg your Ladyship's pardon for my interruption. Take that.  Rose gives her a Note privately. Betty. 
What should this be? But I perceive it requires secrecy.  Rash. 
Sir, I'll assure you for some reasons, I had rather you had been the sender than the bringer of this Letter, but however I shall perform its Contents at the hour appointed.  Rose. 
Sir, I hope I am concerned more than barely as a Letter Carrier, and since I know the most material business of it, I desire you would satisfy my further Curiosity, I yet believing it is intended I should make one at the meeting.  Rash. 
Not at all, I'll assure you, Sir.  Rose. 
'Tis strange, but I shall inquire the cause of it elsewhere. Your Ladyship's most humble Servant.  Exeunt Rose and Rash. Betty. 
What Paper's this? (Reads) For Mrs. Elizabeth Rash.  
Opens it, and finds.  
MAdam, the Letter I delivered your Brother contains a Challenge to meet a Gentleman in Hide Park this Morning at eight of the Clock, I confess I must needs appear Treacherous, as well for opening the Letter, as for betraying the business, but when you shall know the true motives that made me do both, I am confident you will not only absolve me, but allow a place in your esteem for one who doth all he can to preserve to you two friends; the loss of either of which would be a perpetual trouble to you, and real grief to your unknown  
Servant.  
This requires care and Expedition to prevent, for the other Friend he means can be none but Mr. Muchland, I'll make a Visit to his Sister, and inquire out the matter.  Exit. Scene the Street. Enter Merry at one Door, and Rose at the other. Rose. 
Sir, you are well met; I was going to your Lodging to look for you.  Mer. 
Troth, Sir, I am sorry I am prevented the happiness of meeting you there, we would have cracked a Bottle ere we had parted.  Rose. 
It troubles me a little that I must tell you my business would scarce have provoked Drinking.  Mer. 
But, Sir, let your business have been what it would, we would have drunk upon it: For if't had been good, 'twould have deserved a Bottle; and if bad, needed one; and I tell you, Sir, I never saw any thing yet in my Life could put me past consideration of a Bottle.  Rose. 
Sir, the pleasantness of your temper, with your Civilities to me and my Friend, makes me sorry to tell you I am a Messenger from a Gentleman, to invite you with your Friend into the 〈◊〉 at Nine this Morning, to meet him that sent me, and myself; I need not name on what score.  Mer. 
No, no, 'tis to Fence for a Breakfast of Honour, I guess the business well; let him be whom he will, he shall not fail of my Company, though I confess it seems very odd to be invited to a Banquet of Man's flesh, without knowing a cause for the Treat. Pray Sir, the Name of this obliging Friend of mine.  Rose. 
Muchland, Sir.  Mer. 
How! Marry now I find a kind of a Qualm coming over my stomach, which makes me wish I could be excused on any terms, less than loss of Reputation; yet faith I can't believe but you mistake your Man, for I was just going to his Lodging to take up a Quarrel I feared might proceed too far between him and another.  Rose. 
No, Sir, if your Name be Merry, you are the Man. He imputes the misunderstanding between his Mistress' Brother and him, to the Ill Company you drew him into, and therefore is resolved his Sister shall into the Country from you to Morrow; and and he will have satisfaction for the injuries he received in the Tavern from none but yourself.  Mer. 
A Compendious cause for a Quarrel, and much as significant as most Duels now a days are fought upon: He receives the abuses from others, and requires satisfaction from me, 'Sdeath, he might as well have placed it on the Vintner for keeping the House, the Link-Boys for lighting him to it; or indeed on his Horse that brought him his last Journey to Town, this Capriciousness of his Temper with his design to take from me my Mistress makes me wish he was here to begin presently. Where's the place he designs for this delicate Trial of Skill?  Rose. 
In Hyde-park, Sir.  Mer. 
Well, Sir, I shall bring a Friend that hath as much cause of malice to you as this Man of Punctillioes hath to me, and therefore if you have no more wit, you may fight too.  Rose. 
Sir, I am not afraid to say I shall scarce be idle when I see you once engaged.  Exeunt. The Scene a Chamber. Enter Townlove and the Lady Turnip in Morning-Gowns. Turn. 
My dear Townlove, thou art the goodest Rogue for not Drinking, I could even by't thee to pieces for it. But faith I'll tell Mr. Merry on it sound when I see him for keeping thee up all Night; come, prithee, shall we to Bed?  Town. 
I presently; but first you shall sing me the new Scotch Song.  Turn. 
No, prithee don't; I am so hoarse with sitting up for thee, that I shall never make any Music of it now, and I do so long to be in Bed, dear Townlove come, let's go.  Town. 
I must have my Song first, time enough for Bed, we'll not Rise till Dinner time, and that shan't be ready till three, that we may have time to go to the Play.  Turn. 
And will you stay with me after the Play, and engage with no Body?  Town. 
Come, my Song, and I won't.  

Song. 1.  

WIllie was so blithe a Lad,  
Nene like was in the Town;  
At Wake and Wassail Willie had  
For Dancing chief Renown.   

2.  
He picked the Bar, and hurled a stean,  
Nea Man would him out-gang;  
And if he strave with any ean,  
He guard them lig along.   

3  
But Willie needs would Wedded be,  
He liked so we'll a Lass  
That bonny was, and full of glee,  
And much all did pass.   

4.  
Yet Willie was no sooner Wed,  
But he full sear did pine;  
He crossed his Arms, hanged down his Head,  
And still had watery Eyes.   

5.  
Ah, uvea is me, would Willie say,  
That I am thus forlorn;  
I now can neither Dance nor Play,  
Nor ought but wind a Horn.   

6.  
The Lads and Lasses all do laugh,  
And scorn me as I gang;  
They do me all a Cuckold knowgh,  
And gibe me with this Sang.   

7.  
Willie soon must gang to work,  
Or Noon scodes him sear;  
Mass Johnne ere he wends to Kirk  
Mun con a point we her.   

8.  
Then Jockey, Sawny, Hugh, and Kit,  
Ralph, Wat, and many mere,  
Gang when they please, and take a bit,  
Whilst Willie keeps the Whore.    Enter Maid. Maid. 
Madam, here's Mr. Ruffle will not be satisfied without he can speak with you; I told him you were asleep, he said, I must wake you, for it may be 'tis the last time he shall trouble you.  Turn. 
What doth the Coxcomb mean, to trouble me thus early? Tell him I value my Honour more, then to admit of a Man's Visit at this time of Day; and say, I wonder at his Insolence: Tell him any thing, rather than let him come up to disturb my dear Townlove and I now.  Exit Maid. Town. 
I'll hanged if the Fool hath not run himself into some Quarrel last Night, and now comes to boast of his Valour; Will Merry was talking something of it to me, but I scarce regarded what I did not believe.  Turn. 
What a pox is his Valour to me?  Town. 
But his thousand pounds a year is; don't slight that.  Turn. 
I, Townlove, you are weary of me, or else you would ne'er put me upon Marrying that Fool.  Town. 
Don't you prove yourself a worse, in refusing such a Fortune; you know my Estate is entailed upon my Younger Brother, then should I die, what would you do for a maintenance? Besides, can't I Visit you then as I do now?  Turn. 
But will you, dear Townlove?  Enter Maid. Maid. 
Madam, he will not be satisfied without seeing you; he saith, he had rather be so unhappy to die in your displeasure, then without taking his leave; I think he's mad, for he talks of nothing but Honour, Death, Victory, and the like.  Exit Maid. Turn. 
Go, bring him up; Townlove, step into the Closet, we'll see what his mighty concerns are.  Exit Townlove. Enter Ruffle and Maid; when he comes in, walks up and down, stamps, starts, and bustles. Turn. 
Mr. Rufflle, I'll assure you your proceed, in forcing yourself thus into my Chamber, hath given me high dissatisfaction; you use me like one of the common things of the Town, that admit of Visits in their Beds; but I'll assure you I am none of those: My Honour is dearer to me then my Life, and I'll not hazard the loss of my Reputation for the satisfaction of any Person Living.  Ruff. 
It can't be helped, Madam, the Case is altered— I am not the Man you think me— no— The World's changed— Tempore Mutantur—  Turn. 
The World's changed indeed; you have not dared to use me in this slight manner formerly, therefore, good Sir, your business quickly, that you may be gone, and never see my face more.  Ruff. 
There's it, you'll prove a true Prophetess I fear; but hang't, 'tis no matter, a Man must die, and as good at first as at last. Honour; I, there's it, to die, and lie in the Bed of Honour; who would desire more?  Turn. 
Good Sir, be careful of my Honour, and if your business be only to disturb me, I command your speedy absence.  Ruff. 
Command your Maid's absence, I shall tell you all.  Turn. 
My Maid! heavens forbidden! A Man in the Room, and my Maid go out, not for the World! I believe you have some design upon me, and have set your Companions to watch their opportunity to enter when no body's here but us, so to force me to Marry you for safety of my Reputation; but I'll assure you I shall be more cautious.  Ruff. 
Madam, your fears are vain— I adore you— And I dare tell you, I merit you now— since I am Valiant. You said, you found my want of Valour the greatest bar to my happiness. Alas, alas, Madam, Cowardice was A humour I only put on for a time; but you shall hear suddenly such things— lafoy, lafoy, lafoy,— will you let your Maid withdraw? Upon my Honour, and by my budding Glory, I have no design, but to let you know I merit you— I merit you, that's a bold word, I gad, but I dare say it, lafoy, lafoy, la.  Turn. 
Peg, go down, but be sure to be within hearing, should I call.  Exit Peg. 
Sir, you see what hazards I run to give you satisfaction; I'm afraid you'll Interpret this to too much inclination in me, and I would not that for the World.  Ruff. 
Madam, you need not fear censure for your favouring me, I tell you I deserve it, for I am Valiant. You know Townlove, don't you?  Turn. 
Yes, Sir, what then?  Ruff. 
A very brave Fellow that— And Will Merry too; I have seen 'em both Visit you— And brave Fellows both; by heavens, Madam, they are, as any walks the streets.  Turn. 
I ne'er heard otherways: But what then?  Ruff. 
What then? I say, dam, blood, should any Bully Rock of 'em all but say, or think Townlove or Merry are not as brave Men as Live, I would send the lie down their Throats with my double fists, that I would; Townlove or Merry not brave! I laugh at that, lafoy, lafoy, la.  Turn. 
But good Sir, to the business.  Ruff. 
Why, that's to the business, Madam, I tell you they are Gallant, Brave Fellows, and they know one shall be nameless, that's myself, as brave as either of them, ask 'em when you see 'em, how I swinged a couple of Bullys last Night; lafoy, lafoy, la. Ask 'em, I say, they'll tell you how I dusted 'em about when they were both drawn upon me at once; I feaged 'em i'faith, they both saw it; two on 'em at a time, Madam, won their Money, made mere bubbles of 'em, and when I had done, kicked 'em, and turned 'em down stairs; lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, at the Rose Tavern: How like you that, Madam?  Turn. 
Truly, Sir, I am glad you got no hurt, for I Love a Valiant Man and should be sorry he should get hurt by his Courage. But, Sir, if this be all the business, you might have stayed telling it till after Dinner.  Ruff. 
All, Madam, 'tis not half; this is only what Townlove and Merry saw: All, all, say you? Alas, alas, I am to Fight a Duel this Morning in Hyde-park, at six of the Clock, with a Man as Valiant as twenty such as they, that's it: I tell you, Madam, this is truth, and therefore, not knowing how Fate will dispose of this Body, I come to assure you my Soul is yours, go where it will.  Turn. 
I find I'm overcome by your worth, it must not be, do not Fight; you say your Soul is mine, then do not take it from me, I will not let you Fight.  Ruff. 
Alas, Madam, it can't be helped— My Honour, my Honour, think o'th' that; lafoy, lafoy, lafoy, I tell you my Honour is dearer to me than my Life.  Turn. 
Or mine either I see; O cruel Man, was it with design to kill me you came this Morning? Alas, 'tis five a Clock already, and six, you says, the hour. Oh, do not go, stay here with me, I'll say I locked you up.  Ruff. 
Madam, 'tis all in vain, your tears are all in vain; my Honour calls me forth, if I be slain, as chance of War is doubtful, think sometimes of poor Ruffle.  Turn. 
Ah, do not think of dying yet, do not go.  Ruff. 
Honour, Madam, Honour; think of that: Farewell.  Exit. Enter Townlove. Town. 
What the Devil doth the Rogue mean? Not one word of all his beating of two Men in our Company is true; he lay vapouring of his having kicked a Man, to Will Merry, and he believed it, but could not persuade me to be of his Faith, though I believe there may be something in the latter part of the Story.  Turn. 
Let him be hanged, he is not worth concerning ourselves about him, prithee Dear, let's too Bed.  Town. 
Nay, I am confident he'll secure himself from any danger but dry beating, or kicking, and therefore he shall be no part of my care.  Enter Peg. Peg. 
Sir, Mr. Merry must speak with you.  Town. 
Bid him come up; what's his business, I wonder?  Exit. Enter Merry. Mer. 
Good Morrow, Madam. What, han't you been in Bed yet, Tow nlove? I see you mighty managers of Misses, that seem so industrious and eager to be at 'em are as long a getting into the Saddle when you have the Bridle in your hand, as Men less professed in the vaulting Trade.  Turn. 
Troth, Mr. Merry, I could chide you hearty for keeping Mr. Townlove out all Night, when he had promised me he would come.  Mer. 
Faith, you'll have greater Reason to chide, when I must take him from you presently: Come, prithee Townlove, dress, I have business with you, your Ear—  Turn. 
I wish, Mr. Merry, you were Married once, than I hope you will be tamed, and let Mr. Townlove sleep in his Bed quietly.  Town. 
I'm sorry for it, I'll slip on my Coat; (help me, Peg,) and go with you.  Mer. 
Faith, Madam, I don't believe you wish his business should be to sleep quietly in Bed.  Turn. 
Troth, Sir, one good turn is, you scarce know what Women wish.  Town. 
But, Will Merry, here hath been Ruffle, and told such damned lies to Turnip of his Valour, that you ne'er heard the like; and quotes you and I for Vouchers.  Mer. 
Damn him, for an unreclaimable Coward, he did nothing but huff when you were gone, because Ned Rash seemed to take his part; and when I believing him Valiant, would have took him to task, he proved the same sneaking thing he always was.  Turn. 
He tells me he is to fight this Morning at six.  Mer. 
Faith, may be he might mistake a Man, and give a Challenge, but I'll secure him from fight.  Town. 
There's something comes in my Head; where are your Fiddles, Merry?  Mer. 
At the Rose I left 'em, and bid 'em stay for me.  Town. 
Turnip, we'll send 'em to you, and give 'em such Instructions, that 'tis ten to one they shall play up your Wedding Dinner to Day.  Turn. 
Faith, dear Townlove, I had rather Live as I do.  Mer. 
Gad, Girl, I like thee for this; refuse a thousand pounds a year for Love of a Rascal, that will ne'er Marry thee.  Turn. 
I Love Mr. Townlove too well, to desire to Marry him, if he was such a Fool to have me; now all our pleasures come freely, but when they once are our Duties, 'twould go so against the hair; no, I'll ne'er marry a Man I Love.  Mer. 
This is the prettiest sort of new Philosophy in Love; right Descartes, it depends all upon motion. Why, what would Lucrece, Cornelie, and the rest of the Ancient Husband Lovers say; did they see these days?  Town. 
Why, Merry, no doubt but they would be converted to Love for delight, and Mary for conveniency, as Turnip here shall do, therefore I charge you manage your business so, as I may salute you the next time I see you, by the Name of Ruffle.  Turn. 
Well, Townlove, I did not think you would have left me so soon; but I will do what you bid me, to show you that I can Love better than you in disposing of myself, that you may get a new Mistress, for I know there's your aim.  Mer. 
A gallant Trade, let me be hanged else.  Town. 
Come, let's away.  Exeunt. The Scene a Chamber. Enter Betty and Honour. Hon. 
Was e'er so cross a mischief known? I'm confident Mr. Merry meant nothing but mirth.  Betty. 
'Twas that untimely mirth, to which we own all this distraction; Curse on his Revels, and may he be condemned ne'er to take Rest that hath by this Night's waking, robbed me, I fear, of quiet during Life.  Hon. 
Madam, methinks you are too passionate, and something like your Brother, to whom in Justice you should impute all mischief that shall happen; for I'm sure it was his only fault these Quarrels ris.  Betty. 
'Tis you are passionate, and blinded too by your concerns for Merry; he, I say, who, could he keep his Bed, and leave his Fooling, would not be Author of so many broils his drunkenness must daily now occasion.  Hon. 
This Language, Madam, better would beseem your Land-Lady, when in a high concern for t'other farthing Candle, she would rate your Footman for the evil hours he keeps. To tax a Gentleman with Drunkenness, is proper for no mouth but such a one as makes the loudest noise in crying Oysters.  Betty. 
Oh, that we both were Men but for an hour, and all the Quarrel ours, though bound to end it with our Lives.  Hon. 
I cannot wish to leave the World so soon, since there is something in it I must like, in spite of all detraction. But truly, Madam, I could hazard much against the Sister of that Man I know attempts my Brother's Life.  Betty. 
Your Brother (Oh, that I live to say it) caused that Quarrel, as you do this; 'twas he that sent the Challenge.  Hon. 
'Tis likely then, he had occasion for it.  Betty. 
Oh, yes, occasion; he could not sure want that, since I'm his Mistress; one he fain would break with, and wants a fit pretence; but sure he need not have gone so far about, for I believe he ne'er had mighty cause to think I doted.  Hon. 
No, Madam, to deal freely, I've observed your Pride still struggled with your Inclination; yet had he not been blinded by his Passion, he might have seen through all your scorns a liking.  Bet. 
Ill-tempered Maid, thus to abuse my Patience: Oh, for two Swords, that Women, though we are, we yet might try whether our feeble Arms were wholly wanting to our Active spleens.  Hon. 
Your wish so hearty seems, it would be pity you should not have it granted; and I find your braves have so dispersed all fear in me, that I as much do long to try this fight, as you can seem to do; stay but a little, I soon can find two Swords.  Exit Hon. Betty. 
Do't then, and if I don't soon make you feel th' effects of Anger, though by weakness backed, then let me be despised by all that Love me.  Enter Honour with Swords. Hon. 
Here are the Swords.  Betty. 
Come, give me one, I long to see it drawn.  Hon. 
Nay, stay, you sha'not have the longest; there, take that.  Betty. 
Let me feel the point— 'tis sharp, I warrant you I'll make it enter.  Hon. 
Enter where? I hope you do not mean to kill me.  Betty. 
Come, come, let's fight; what, Weapons in our hands, and spend our time in talking.  Enter Rose, and draws. Rose. 
hay day, what's here, two Women-Duellers? Some fight Planet Reigns to day sure: Ladies, 'tis very pretty, you that should be Active in making Peace between your Brothers, are practising the Art to be their Seconds. Methinks a naked Weapon, with so sharp a point, is not very proper for your Ladyship's hand, pray let me take it from you.  Betty. 
I beg your pardon, Sir, 'tis not so easy to take a Sword from me, as you imagine.  Rose. 
But I'll assure you, Lady, I must prevent all fight, 'tis my business; therefore relate the Quarrel, that I may make you Friends.  Betty. 
No Relations, Sir; our Quarrels Love and Honour, that's enough.  Rose. 
Enough, say you? I, to set the whole World together by the Ears, or to make 'em Friends again either: Love and Honour are the two great Wheels, on which all business moves. The Tradesman Cheats you upon his Honour, and like a Lord swears by that, but that he particularly loves you, you should not have it so. No Tragedy, Comedy, Farce, Demi-Farse, or Song now adays, but is full of Love and Honour: Your Coffe-drinking-Crop-ear'd-Little Banded-Secretary, that pretends not to know more of Honour than its Name, will out of abundance of Love be still sighing and groaning for the Honour of the Nation. Nay, the Lady, that for Impudence sake hides her Face behind a Vizard, will protest in taking the mollifying Guinney, that it is not that, but the confidence she hath that the Gallant will be careful of her Honour, and because she loves him, that makes her bestow so considerable a Pox upon him: And therefore, Ladies, if Love and Honour be the motive of your unusual Valour, 'tis ten to one you may do wonders with your Weapons without going to Fencing Schools.  Hon. 
Come, prithee, Rose, leave Fooling, and tell us in what posture our unlucky affairs are, for I am more for that, then for fight.  Betty. 
Rose, said you?  Rose. 
Yes, the very same, at your Ladyship's Service, though very unable, you'll say, to do much.  Betty. 
Prithee, how comes this Disguise?  Rose. 
To play the part of a right Town Gallant, raise Quarrels, and then prevent them by Discovery, this is the way most Men find to Honour now adays; the Quarrel is begun with Son of a Whore, you Lie, or a box on the Ear, slight matters, not able to provoke heat of Blood enough to fight presently, but the formal Challenge must follow, the Seconds must confer, and the Swords be measured in order to a meeting the next Morning in the Field; which none of the four but thinks himself bound by the Religious Rules of self-preservation to prevent, and therefore each whispers the matter to one of his best Friends at least, and the Devil's in't, if none of them will find one that loves him so well to rise a little earlier, to fetch a Guard to prevent all. And you must think they are soon made Friends, their meek Dovelike Honour being safe.  Hon. 
I never discovered talking to be the Crime of our Sex before: I thought it had been a scandal placed upon us, but I see now 'tis true; for I never heard so many words to so little purpose from one that wore a pair of Breeches in my Life. Prithee, Rose, leave this talkative humour, and tell me how matters stand.  Rose. 
Why, Ladies both, they stand as you would have 'em stand; therefore do but prepare yourselves to go whither I will conduct you, if you are not throughly pleased with their standing before to Morrow Morning, let Rose be condemned never to have to do with any thing within a pair of Breeches again.  Hon. 
Well, Rose, I will believe 'tis thy Morning's draught makes thy Tongue run thus wildly, pray heaven it be'nt before thy wit.  Rose. 
No fears, Madam, though I must tell you Mr. Merry has received a Challenge this morning as well as the rest.  Hon. 
He Challenged! By whom, dear Rose, tell me.  Rose. 
No, I should talk too much, should I tell you; I will have a care of running into that error again.  Hon. 
Cruel Wench, to put me in a fright thus.  Betty. 
I am glad to see you punished with your fears for Merry's safety, methinks through all your scorns, was he but hear, he might discern a liking.  Hon. 
'Tis true, I did deserve your Anger, Madam, for urging that of which myself was guilty; but pardon me, I hope this falling out will but confirm our Friendships.  Betty. 
I doubt it not, if Rose makes good her word.  Throw away their Swords. Rose. 
Why brave, i'faith, you're Bully Rocks exactly, and know to the splinter of a hair when to draw, and when to put up with Honour; Masquerading must needs go on, when Women practise the substantial'st part of Man, that's drawing Naked Weapons. But come, a Coach waits at the Door to convey you where you may have opportunity to try your Courages a safer way, though I will not affirm without Bloodshed.  Hon. 
Thou art run stark mad, Rose.  Betty. 
And we, I fear, are as mad, to believe any thing she saith.  Rose. 
But if you believe not me, go where you may trust your senses, I hope hearing and seeing, or at least, the most excellent sense feeling will be trusted by you.  Exeunt. The Scene Hyde-park. Enter Ruffle alone. Ruff. 
He is not come, I see; faith two to one he dares not: For I have seen many man with as fight a Face, and as apt to throw a Tobacco-pipe too, that hath been as backwards when matters have come to the push as men of easier fleam; I, gad, I hope this will prove a lucky Adventure, but then I might have saved the money I am to give Brief and Fullam for prevention; a plague on't, that we heartless men can't know one another by sympathy, 'tis true, by experience on myself, I can give a pretty near guess, and therefore I never hear a man that's apt to speak ill of others behind their backs under the Seal of secrecy, or that inquires for men's Names that are Cowards, to report them so in all Companies they come in, or that is always drawing a Sword, to talk of fancying a pass, or that never sees a pale, young, or sickly Face, but he makes it red with blushing at the abuses he puts upon it, or indeed one that seems always so big with Valour, that by Hectoring, huffing, talking of Duels, and breaking Drawers pates, doth, as it were, cry out to be delivered of this Tympany of Courage— 'Sblood, what's that comes yonder? By heavens my man— And no sight of my hirelings— No where to get out of sight till they appear— No, 'tis impossible but he sees me: What the Devil shall I do— I think I had best fall to Queries about the Quarrel— a way many a Young Gallant hath prevented the pinking his Doublet by— ne'er stir, methinks the danger makes me think I dare fight; I, gad, I'll do't; hang it, it is but dying, and that I must do at last in spite of my teeth.  Enter Muchland. Much. 
Sir, I see your Anger hath made you get the start, both of the hour and me; 'tis hardly six.  Ruff. 
Your provocation made it seem so to me an hour ago— and I do wonder—  Much. 
Let's not lose more time in talking then, the dispatch I intent with my Sword shall make amends for the time you lost by staying.  Ruff. 
Sir, I'm ignorant who is your Tailor, and therefore might inquire with what he lines your clothes.  Much. 
You have reason, Sir, I think our Shirts an't proof.  Ruff. 
I think we had best to strip then, not that I doubt your Honour, Sir.  Both stripping. Much. 
That's as you please, Sir, it must rely on proof.  Ruff. 
Sure I dare fight— the Spirit comes upon me: And this Gentleman seems so careless of it, that I believe there's not that danger in sighting I once thought— but would the Rogues would come thought.  Much. 
Sir, are you ready?  Ruff. 
Almost, Sir, a cursed Bandstring hampers my Button so, I can't undo't.  Much. 
Shall I help you?  Ruff. 
No, Sir— Gad, they're coming—  Aside. 
I've done it, come, Sir; but what two men are yonder?  Much. 
Some to prevent us, I dare lay my Life, they run so fast; but let's make haste, we may outdo their diligence.  Ruff. 
I hope we may.  They fight, Ruffle parries and traverses. Enter Fullam and Breef. Within. 
Hold, Mr. Ruffle, you are a dead Man else.  Ful. 
Sir, we beg your pardon, we came no sooner to your Rescue.  To Muchland. Brief. 
But we are glad our Swords were not wholly prevented from serving you.  Much. 
Gentlemen, what mean you to excuse your absence so long, since I could wish the courtesy had still continued.  Ful. 
We cannot blame you to be a little Angry, since we were not so diligent in performing our words as we promised.  Much. 
What words? What promise? Gentlemen, I never saw you before in my Life, as I know of.  Brief. 
What, Sir, not at the Rose Tavern this morning, when we engaged our words to do you Service against this Gentleman, as we are ready, then let us use no time, for yonder's Company.  Much. 
Sir, give me leave to tell you, you're both Villains, that would contrive the murder of my Honour, a thing much dearer to me than my Life; therefore, Sir, as you are a Gentleman, join, but and drive these Rascals from our sight, or from the World, and then we'll fight in quiet.  To Ruffle. Ruff. 
Your Dialogue is too mysterious, Sir, for me to mix with; therefore stand off, if I'm ordained to die now, none shall say I did not sell my Life at Honours utmost rate, then do your worst, this Tree shall guard my Back, and this my Face.  Ful. 
Come, Sir, fall on, and let's dispatch him quickly.  Much. 
I'm here against you both: If you be Thiefs, come, kill me first, then do the like by him, and take our plunder; but I am resolved no fear shall let you take my Honour from me.  Brief. 
Sir, what do you mean? You carry things too far.  Ruff. 
Come, do your worst; why so long a joining?  Much. 
Oh heavens, what Fate is this?  Enter Soldiers. Officer. 
Put up your Swords, and come along with us; must we be always plagued with your rash Quarrels?  Much. 
Sir, as you're a Gentleman.  Officer. 
No talking, Sir, to us; our Captain, perhaps, will hear you speak.  Exeunt.  

The Fifth Act.  Scene the Park. Enter Sharp, Merry, and Townlove. Sharp. 
SInce we are met, I see there is a necessity of opening our minds one to another before we can part: Faith, say, is not your business fight?  Mer. 
I'm afraid it will prove so ere we go home, though considering every thing, I had much rather have walked abroad so early a Simpling, to gather herbs for a Diet-drink, and took it when I had done, though it be the Liquor of all others I most abhor.  Sharp. 
I must confess I am here on the like Errand, and should be loath to be prevented, though how we shall save our Reputations to our several Adversaries when they find us together, I am to seek; nor is it reason for either to desire the Field, should be cleared by the other.  Town. 
I'll make a proposition; you shall declare to each other the men you are to meet, than I will be upon the Scout, and give notice who approaches first, on which the other shall withdraw.  Rash. 
I like the proposition well; what say you, Merry?  Mer. 
The Gentleman I am to deal with, is one I would rather compose then fight with, and having little or no occasion for the Quarrel, I hope to give Reasons may end the business without noise, and therefore would be glad to spare Names.  Sharp. 
There can be little occasion for that caution, since, I suppose, we are all too much Gentlemen, to be thought babblers; and to show I have reserves, notwithstanding I know your pretences; Mr. Merry, I dare tell you, 'tis Mr. Muchland I stay for.  Mer. 
Mr. Muchland! By what motives do you stay for him?  Sharp. 
Moved by a formal Challenge, sent in writing, to meet him singly here: But who's your Man?  Mer. 
I beg your pardon, I have reasons force me to conceal his Name. But you surprise me much, and though I know that words went high between you, I ne'er thought they could have moved a Challenge: Pray, Sir, who brought it?  Sharp. 
Your cautious dealing teaches me the same, though, I confess, too late.  Town. 
I've not such Obligations; and since I see there's something foul in this, I will not spare to say, 'tis by Mr. Muchland's appointment we are likewise here now; and I am sorry to see, that Challenging two Men together to one place, his Courage dare meet neither.  Mer. 
Townlove, don't wrong a Man you never tried.  Town. 
He that seeks further trial let him find it, I'm satisfied, if words will fright a Man, he shan't want them from him; but prithee tell, what Man did bring thy Challenge?  Sharp. 
One of those Gentlemen we met i'th' street; he that durst drink.  Mer. 
The same that came to me; 'tis plain, they do but Jest, and sent us hither only to laugh at us.  Rash. 
My Temper's not so pleasant to find out Jests in formal Challenges.  Mer. 
Nor mine so sour, but I can take for Jest all that is meant so.  Town. 
All that occurs to me on the whole matter, is this, that we may all go back again, and wait his Explanation of the Riddle.  Enter a Guard. Officer. 
Come, gentlemans, deliver up your Swords, you'll have no use of 'em, it seems, to day.  Rash. 
I pray Sir, what's the matter?  Officer. 
We are sent to prevent the Duel you are come about.  Town. 
It seem we came about no Duel, Sir, and you may spare your pains.  Officer. 
You are merry, Sir, but we must do our Duty; then give us up your Swords.  Mer. 
Where is it we must go?  Officer. 
The back way to the Mulberry-Garden; they who employed us wait our coming thither: But we want another, they said we should find four.  Town. 
It was a needless caution in 'em, be who they will; for that fourth man you speak of is as good as forty Guards at preventing Duels.  Mer. 
Come, go on, we'll be your Peaceful Prisoners, though you permit our Swords.  Officer. 
Sir, 'tis enough; march on.  Exeunt. The Scene Mulberry-Garden. Enter Honour, Betty, and Rose. Rose. 
I am surprised extremely, here is a Guard hath brought in four Gentlemen already they took Actively fight, as they say, and Mr. Muchland's one, I saw him through the Door.  Betty. 
This is your diligence, good Mrs. Rose, you have undone us, for if they've fought, they then will ne'er be Friends.  Hon. 
What a Fool was I to trust so weighty a concern to the conduct of a wanton, harebrained Wench.  Betty. 
ne'er stir, Rose, compose all matters, as you promised, or you shall find what 'tis to raise my expectation high, and then to fool me.  Hon. 
'Tis not your wanton Jests shall bring you off, I'll swear you shan't Live with me a day longer, if you fail your promise.  Rose. 
hay day, will you but give me leave to speak; you're as pettish both of you as two Puritan Sisters, condemned to die Maids, the greatest Curse accounted by the Saints of our Reformation that can be.  Hon. 
What can you say? Flame us off with some untoward Jest; no, forsooth, that shall not serve your turn.  Rose. 
I don't intent it shall, have but patience, that I may go and mix in Company with these same Duellers, if I don't set all things right again, let me be discarded by your Ladyship, and bound to fight a Duel with yours.  Betty. 
Let's see the effects of your promises quickly, or the Duel you speak of may prove a sharper than you believe.  Rose. 
If the Guard I have sent out catch any Quarry, let them keep 'em close in some Room till I return.  Hon. 
It shall be done, but let us have no more failings on your part.  Exeunt. Enter Muchland, first Officer, Fullam, and Brief. Much. 
By a Woman's directions, it seems, you surprised us, and she's a Friend of Ruffle's.  1. Officer. 
Yes, Sir, and they're together; I believe they will Marry, for a Parson is sent for.  Much. 
You seem a Man of Reason; your Ear.  Ful. 
This Ruffle will cheat us of what he promised, for he told me just now we came too late, and that the danger was past, he being forced to fight ere we Relieved him.  Brief. 
He cursed and swore when I but spoke to him, and told me he would have me tossed in a Blanket if I but mentioned money to him. Nay, he swore damn him, if in the humour he was in, he could not have beat us all three. And I believe he is Valiant, for we, you know, found him stripped and fight.  Ful. 
But he parryed and traversed damnably fast, and I'm convinced by Experience, that all Men who draw Swords are not Valiant; and that the Disease of Cowardice, when once proof against the Physic of beating, as his oft hath been, is incurable.  Brief. 
I cannot tell, but if we were once well off with what we got to Night, I would forgive him my Morning's hire.  Ful. 
I'm of your mind for that, I could admit of an easy excuse to be going.  1. Officer. 
Sir, you have satisfied me, and 'tis but reason; I'll take care you sha'not be disturbed.  Exit Officer. Much. 
Gentlemen, my Old Acquaintance, and very good Friends that I never saw before, what motives had you to use me as you did i'th' Field just now?  Ful. 
Use you, how did we use you? Were not we civil in taking of your part? Dam, what would you be at?  Much. 
No hussing, Rascals, that will not do with me, I'm none of those— Come, tell me presently what made  Draws. 
you interest yourselves in my concerns with such a lie to back it, as if I had employed you? Come, Sir, speak.  Ful. 
Very pretty: Brief, didst ever see the like? The Gallant knows us both for men of Honour, he durst not else provoke two of us thus.  Much. 
Men of Honour i'th' Devils Name: A pair of Curs in couples are not more tame, nor readier for a beating; you huffing Rascal, answer, what made you do't?  Ful. 
This is unsufferable, I am a Gentleman, and therefore do require satisfaction for this abuse; meet me singly with your Sword then to morrow morning at the place where I saved your Life and Honour both to day.  Much. 
Town tricks right; I'll try you first how far a Cudgel will provoke your passion.  Exit Muchland, and bolts the Door. Brief. 
What shall we do, he hath locked the Door, or else we might have got Ruffle to take our parts.  Ful. 
Gad, let's both draw, and try to keep him off till the Guard hears.  Brief. 
Hang't, that won't do; I see he's one of those that count their Honour dearer than their Lives; and Hell, Damnation, the Devil and all are not able to fright them from fight when they are set on't. And though by my manner of Living I should fear Hell as little as any Man, yet I could never persuade myself to be ready to die, neither by Sword nor Hanging, one of which usually follows the fight of Men that Live in public fame as I do.  Ful. 
Why then let's resolve to suffer bravely, 'tis but a beating he'll give us, and he'll soon give over the Cudgel, if he be a Man of Honour as thou thinkest he is.  Brief. 
I, but he is a Man of Country Honour, and they go a great way farther in beating a Man then your City Man of Honour doth. Alas, I know 'em both, the one is contented to give the single Battoon of disgrace, but the t'other ne'er thinks it enough till he makes your skin o'th' colour of your hair. I am for downright confessing all.  Ful. 
That's worse by half, for than we fall under the Revenge of Ruffle, and nothing like being in the power of an enraged Coward.  Enter Muchland with two Cudgels. Brief. 
He comes, oh, heart, heart, hold breaking.  Much. 
Come, Gallants, I should be loath to make use of these edgeless Weapons, therefore confess, and save me and yourselves the trouble.  Ful. 
'Sdeath, Sir, I hope you do not intent to be rude to Gentlemen in Custody; you know we are Prisoners, or else—  Much. 
Or else you would run away, therefore I'll begin with you.  Beats Fullam. Ful. 
What do you mean, Sir— Dam, this must not pass— Revenge must follow— assure yourself it must—  Much. 
I do consider that, and will give you a little thinking time, whilst I exercise your Comrade.  Brief. 
Good Sir, be civil, you know I han't gave you a word to displease you.  Beats him. Much. 
Confess, Sir, then; confess.  Brief. 
Hold, good Sir, and I will.  Full 
Cowardly Rascal; what, dost fear a beating?  Much. 
Pray valiant Sir, stand by: Come, Sir, your story.  Brief. 
Sir, we were hired by Mr. Ruffle to come into the Field, and seem to take your part, to get him Honour.  Much. 
What say you, Sir? Is this story true?  Ful. 
Yes, 'tis a truth, but I'd have sooner died than told it you. Out, you hen-hearted Coward.  Much. 
Go, Sirrah, and kick him for calling you Coward.  Ful. 
Gad, I would he durst.  Much. 
Do't, or I'll Bastinado you again.  Brief takes up a stick, and goes to beat Fullam, who takes up another, and worsts him. Ful. 
Gad, I'll teach you to strike me, you Cowardly Rogue.  Much. 
So, well done; now we shall soon be Friends.  Ful. 
Friends, Sir; no, Gad, I'll no Friendship with you.  Enter first Officer and Rose. 1. Officer. 
This Gentleman's importunity hath forced me to introduce him to you.  Much. 
He's truly welcome.  Rose. 
Sir, I am much surprised to find you here.  Much. 
You have reason for your wonder, but will not have so long, when I shall tell you the cause of my surprisal, but now I have not time, I must desire you to haste into the Park to find out Mr. Sharp, and bring him hither, my Honour else may suffer.  Rose. 
I shall obey you, and return presently.  Exit Rose. Much. 
Come, my most excellent brace of Spaniels, you must go and witness what you've said.  Ful. 
I'll witness nothing, not I  1. Officer. 
Come, Sir, no muttering, march.  Exeunt. Enter Honour, Betty, and second Officer. 2. Officer. 
The Gentlemen we have taken, call themselves Rash, Merry, and Townlove.  Betty. 
You have done well; keep 'em upon your Lives.  2. Officer. 
ne'er fear it, Madam, they are safe enough.  Exit second Officer. Betty. 
We're sure by this 'tis none of them that fought with Mr. Muchland.  Enter Rose. Hon. 
No, that matter's plain, and I begin to guests the Man; but here comes Rose will tell all. Oh, excellent Rose, thy Guard of new made Red-Coats have done their business bravely; they've brought in Merry, Rash, and Townlove.  Rose. 
I, now 'tis excellent Rose; but by and by you'll call me long-tongued, shallow-pate again: I am so elevated with the success of my business, that like a newmade Bishop, I could appear extremely grave and moody.  Betty. 
Nay, Rose, no stop of thy Industry for this favour of Fortune, for should she frown again, thy condition, like a disgraced Favourites, would be more subject to oppression, then if never she had smiled upon thee.  Rose. 
I'faith, I believe you, for 'tis not the well-contrived project, but the successful one is commended; and therefore I'll go on to projection. Step into that Closet there.  Exeunt Betty and Hon. 
Officer, bring in your Prisoners.  Enter second Officer, with Rash, Merry, and Townlove. 
Gentlemen, you are welcome to the Mulberry-Garden.  Rash. 
You'll have our thanks, Sir, as we find our usage.  Rose. 
It cannot well be worse than what I suffered at our first meeting, Sir.  Rash. 
Come, to the business, Sir; what would you with us?  Rose. 
By your demand you almost make me think I am your Prisoner, but I must have other Language from you e'er we part.  Mer. 
Sir, you need use little ceremony in what you mean to do; your Soldiers, if you command them, took us in the Field, you know as well as we why we were there.  Town. 
And there may come a time you may account for it.  Rose. 
No threatening, Sir, for you are least concerned, and since I am resolved to examine you apart, you shall be the first I'll talk with. Officer, put that Gentleman into that Room,  Puts Merry in to Honour and Betty. 
take that along with you, and leave this angry Man for me to talk with.  Exeunt all but Rose and Townlove. Town. 
Well, Sir, and what's all this for?  Rose. 
You told me once to day, you wished my Friendship.  Town. 
I did so, when I took you for a Man of Honour, but now I see you're none, I slight your Friendship.  Rose. 
In what done't I appear the same Man still?  Town. 
You carry Challenges basely intermixed, and yet prevent all sighting by making us Prisoners, and use us too as't 'twere for Crimes of State we were Committed.  Rose. 
High accusations, and with much Anger urged; but suppose Rose should like the proposition you made her to day, and that I had been the main Instrument to bring it about, would you not be pleased with me then?  Town. 
No, saith, should I not; for I believe if so, she's but your leave, and I d be loath to keep her on those terms.  Rose. 
I will not say, but I know whether Risen be a Man or a Woman: But what then? I dare be sworn for her no Man else doth; then why so coy? I do believe you have kept 〈…〉 Commendations.  Town. 
That's no matter, I took 'em from better Friends then; but to the business, Sir, and then dismiss me.  Rose. 
You're at the business now; I'm Risen herself.  Town. 
The Devil thou art; but now I look on thee better, 'tis thee; but what Gallant was he with you, Rose? I'm afraid you are preingaged.  Rose. 
It was a Woman too; no mote of that, I'll tell you all anon: Why an't you suricus, appoint the place to meet in for our Duel? I know you'll Challenge me.  Town. 
I, to a Bed, dear Rose; that, that's the place we'll meet in.  Rose. 
Soft and fair, two words more to that bargain; your present business is to take up Quarrels, for Mr. Merry's is ended I do believe by this; done't seem to know me, not nothing of the frolic to my Lady, as you love me; she's here, and Rash's Sister with her.  Exeunt. Enter Muchland, Ruffle, Brief, and Fullam. Ruff. 
Upon my Honour all they say is false, and you may think so by what they've done: Take beaten Rascals words, they speak for fear.  Much. 
I would be glad to think so.  Ruff. 
And I'll convince you presently; lend me your Cudgel.  He goeth to beat Fullam. Ful. 
What do you mean, Mr. Ruffle? As I'm a Gentleman, do what he could, I never would confess.  Ruff. 
Then was it you that said it, Villain?  Brief. 
I must confess my frailty; it was I.  Ruff. 
Oh, was it so?  Beats him. Brief. 
But he confirmed it too.  Ruff. 
Then he shall have it too.  Beats t'other. Ful. 
Hold, hold, good Sir, hold.  Ruff. 
Did I then hire you to it?  Ful. 
No, Sir, I say, and swore it too before.  Ruff. 
What say you, Rascal?  Brief. 
Truly I cannot tell; I think you did not.  Ruff. 
You see what Rogues are here.  Much. 
I'm satisfied, and therefore let 'em go.  Exeunt Fullam and Breef. Ruff. 
What do you mean, Sir?  Muchland locks the Door. Much. 
To end this matter now, and since these Rogues have placed a scandal on you, wipe it off; come, to your Sword.  Ruff. 
Sir, I'm new Married, and will not fight to day.  Much. 
Oh, the multitude of several sorts of Cowards there are in the World! Come, without more ado, confess yourself one.  Ruff. 
Confess myself a Coward, that's pretty, i'faith; have not you seen me meet you in the Field, Fight you, beat these Rascals for traducing me, and yet confess my selt a Coward, because I don't think it proper to fight on my Wedding-day? A very modest proposition. No, Sir, I'd have you know, this is a day of Joy, I have Married a Lady worth thousands, besides, for Beauty, Virtue, and good Breeding, I'll defy you to match her between the Tower and Westminster-Hall. She it was, that hearing of our Quarrel, sent the Guard to surprise us; and shall I wrong the Love of so Excellent a Lady for your humour? Dam, Blood, you make me mad that you do.  Much. 
I wish I could see the effects of it, but not to spend time in words, the case is this; either confess you hired those Fellows to come into the Field, that you likewise told your Wife that now is, of the Quarrel on purpose to be surprised, and that you are a Coward, and dare not fight. And all this to be openly done before as many as I shall appoint to hear it, or prepare yourself to die, for that must be your Fate or mine before we part this Room.  Ruff. 
Tell me, Sir, do you think you Act now like a Man of Honour— heavens, how Men mistake themselves; would you place this upon a Man that you thought durst fight? Tell me that, would you?  Much. 
No, Sir, I should not.  Ruff. 
there's it, and yet you hope to be counted a brave Man for this— Dam, Blood, if I could not find in my heart to break my Resolution of not Fight to day, rather than suffer you to go away with it thus. But since my word was passed before for not fight (and 'tis the greatest part of Honour to keep that) I will humour you in t'other: But, Sir, let it be done so, that it may not grieve my Wife; and writ down the words that I must say, that there may be no new occasion for breach of Friendship between you and I.  Much. 
Well, Sir, I shall do it. Who waits there?  Opens the Door. 
Bring a Pen and Ink to the next Room.  Enter Rose. Rose. 
Sir, I have performed your Commands; the Gentleman is in another Room.  Much. 
He shall soon see the occasion of my failing him.  Exit Muchland. Ruff. 
Sir, your most obedient Servant, you are a Friend of Mr. Muchland's here; upon my Life a worthy Man he is: He and I have been merry together this Morning.  Rose. 
By the Guard that waits, I thought it had been otherways.  Ruff. 
You mean, you thought us fight; but that hinders no mirth, Men of Honour never fall out about that— though I could tell you, as a Friend of his, I was once desperately afraid I had killed him.  Rose. 
Why, did you Wound him, Sir?  Ruff. 
No, but I'll tell you, he stood upon his Guard, as't might be thus; and to speak truth, would not budge one foot, I'll say that for him; I made a pass or two, as't might be thus; he parryed, but I resolved to make an end on't quickly, seeing some People coming, therefore I made a through pass, and run my Sword to'th' hilts.  Rose. 
In what?  Ruff. 
In's shirt, it proved to be in's shirt; but I, Gad, I was upon flying, if the Guard had not come and took us.  Rose. 
It seems there was no cause, having done him no hurt.  Ruff. 
I knew not that; but I Gad, he's your Friend, preserve him so, for there breathes not a braver fellow, take that from me. But, Sir, upon your Honour speak not a word of this, I know he'll have you Spectator of a frolic we have agreed on; 'tis that I will not have confidence to speak some words openly that he shall write, but I Gad, let 'em be as bad as they will, I'll speak 'em, let who will be by.  Enter Muchland. Much. 
There are the words, look 'em over, I'll tell you when to speak 'em.  Ruff. 
Then if I do it not, take me and hang me.  Exeunt. Enter Merry, Townlove, Honour, Betty, and Rash. Betty. 
Yes truly, Sir, the Gentleman that brought you the Challenge gave me notice of it, and had I not Reason to take the best care I could to prevent it?  Rash. 
They took care enough themselves, it seems.  Town. 
Faith, Rash, I had once as ill an Opinion of their proceed as you, but now I am fully satisfied in every particular.  Mer. 
I am glad I outwent you both in true considering, for you know it would never out of my head, but that Muchland was all worth. Oh, the Excellent Advantages Men have by Wine! it leaves a certain Spirit in ones head, like that of Prophecy.  Rash. 
Like it indeed; Prophesy being a sort of madness, that fills the head, and intoxicate the Understanding, making Men speak abundance of things they neither believe themselves, nor any Body else, till something comes to pass by chance that they seemed to foretell. And then oh, the wonder, as if they that foretell what could not be prevented, were not altogether as useless Members to a Commonwealth, as a sick Passenger at Sea is to a sinking Ship, when he bellows out between Praying and Swearing; God, we are all lost.  Mer. 
Prithee leave, I'm for no Morals, or longwinded simelies. Here comes the Lad I am for.  Enter Rose. 
One that understands his Glass, and makes himself and his Company merry without detracting from his absent, or satirising on his present Friend.  Town. 
Well, our little Projecter, how go matters? I could for thy sake turn Woodcock in the Play, and always be kissing.  Kisses Rose. Rose. 
If you stop my mouth thus, how shall I tell what you would know: But are you all agreed upon the matter?  Mer. 
Only Ned Rash hath a little grumbling discontent towards you still.  Rose. 
I shall soon Cure that; come, you must go all of you to the Balcony, and there you shall see what Heroes Mr. Muchland hath been engaged withal this Morning. And, Mr. Rash, if your Sister do not make Mr. Muchland and you, and I too Friends, before we part, I'll be condemned to sing Fortune my Foe in a Nunnery all days of my Life.  Town. 
In a Nunnery! What have you to do with a Nunnery?  Rose. 
You say right indeed, for if the bargain go on you wots on, I should have little to do with a Nunnery, though I were condemned to wear Petticoats; but no more of those mistakes, but away.  Exeunt. Enter Muchland, Ruffle, Fullam, Breef, first Officer, and Guard. Ruff. 
Gad, Mr. Muchland, the words are too severe, there is no enduring of 'em— let me leave out this Sentence: And like a Cowardly Son of a Whore as I am: Look you, Sir, this is abusing of my Mother, and she had not the least hand in the Quarrel. What say you, Sir, is not this Reason?  Ful. 
Gad, Sir, I would sooner die than say it.  Much. 
You'll sooner be hanged then die, like a Cowardly Rascal as you are.  Ful. 
You may say what you will, but there are them in Town know me for another sort of Man I dare assure you.  Ruff. 
Then the Song, Mr. Muchland, you know that goeth beyond the bargain.  Enter on one side all the Company, and Turnip. 
What, all them, and my own dear Wife too. By heavens I'll die ten thousand Deaths before I'll do't. Your Servant, Gentlemen; your Servant, Ladies'. A merry Crash hath happened between Mr. Muchland and I; we are here Drolling one upon another: Gad, Mr. Muchland, if you had not the ill Nature of all the Justices in your whole Country, you would never urge me to it, I never will consent to read the Paper, and sing the Song too, that's flat.  Much. 
Well, on condition, you'll all of you sing, and Act the Song to the Life, I am contented you shall only deliver the Paper to Mr. Rash, and confess it to be all a truth.  Ruff. 
I'll do't, here's my hand on't; Mr. Rash is a worthy Gentleman, and knoweth me well enough: Come down, come down, I and these Gentlemen are to sing a mad Song to you.  Exeunt above. Much. 
He that spares, either in kicking or cuffing, shall find me upon his back with this.  Ruff. 
Dam, if either of you kick, or strike me hard, I'll swinge you when we have done.  Aside To Ful. and Brief. Brief. 
I'll warrant you, Sir.  Ful. 
I'll do as I see cause: Brief, have you a care of my Boyl you had best, or look to't.  Enter all below. Much. 
Sir, I hope this Gentleman hath informed you with what resentments I intended to repair my Reputation, which I looked upon as too deeply wounded for yourself to excuse my silence in it, and likewise by what unlucky Accident I was prevented performing my appointment.  Rash. 
Sir, I've no cause left to doubt i'th' least your Honour, and do confess I was to blame in pressing you too far; for which I beg your pardon.  Much. 
Can I but hope this Ladies, you have mine.  Hon. 
ne'er fear it, Brother, we are both come thus far to be Married, if we had your consent, for I confess I am loath to go into the Country, and leave Mr. Merry unreclaimed, for fear he should be occasion of some further Quarrel between you two.  Much. 
What say you, Madam, will you make good her word?  Betty. 
I to my Brother, Sir, refer the matter.  Rash. 
Then you are his; take, Sir, this Bond of Friendship.  Much. 
A Chain so strong, I hope can never break. Sister, I wish you happy in your Choice.  Ruff. 
Friends all, Friend's all; why, this is fine i'faith: Now, Muchland, hang the Catch; come, pass it by.  Much. 
Not for the World: Come, the Wine there, and begin.  A Catch Sung by Ruffle, Brief, and Fullam: They in their turns, Drinking, Kicking, and Cuffing one the other at the words to that purpose. Ruffle. 
WE are Gallants of the Town;  
Men of sprightly Breeding:  
If Oaths will do't, we run 'em down,  
But never come to Bleeding.  Chor. 
We measure Swords, appoint the place, and thither do repair too;  
But Drink, Huff, Kick, Cuff; this is all we dare do.  Fullam. 
At Playhouse we do count it brave  
To have the Masques Acquaintance;  
'Gainst Wit and Sense we always rave,  
And call't inspid Nonsense.  Chor. 
We measure Swords, appoint the place, and thither do repair too;  
But Drink, Huff, Kick, Cuff; this is all we dare do.  Brief. 
In Coffeehouse we Battles fight,  
And censure men of Honour;  
We swear that such a Ladies right,  
And hath a Clap upon her.  Chor. 
We measure Swords, appoint the place, and thither do repair too;  
But Drink, Huff, Kick, Cuff; this is all we dare do.  Much. 
That's done like Men of Valour.  Ruff. 
Nay, Gad, I defy him that can say I fear.  Turn. 
Now you are all Friends, know, the Guard I made use of to secure you, are all Mr. Merry's Fiddles.  Much. 
I'm glad I did not know so much before, I should have broke their Prison, or their pates.  Rose. 
My Guard are something a Kin to yours, Men very expert in handling their Feet, if a Man may say so.  Mer. 
All this I see is a mere contrivance for a Dance; let's, without any more ado, have it then.  Dance. Town. 
Come, Gallants, you think your business is done, but where's Rose's thanks?  Mer. 
Rose, I, Gad, I ne'er dreamt o''at; faith, Rose, thou and I'll empty a Bottle sometimes when thy Mistress is in Bed, since thou'rt so good at Drinking.  Town. 
No, good Sir, Rose is to set up in a better Employment; for now Ruffle hath got my Old Mistress, Rose shall succeed in her place.  Ruff. 
I got his Mistress, don't believe him, Dear, I ne'er kept Miss in my Life.  Town. 
Sir, 'tis even so, but I give her to you freely; she was true to me, and may prove so to you.  Ruff. 
How, Married to a Wench.  Ful. 
Joy be with you, Valiant Sir; ha', ha'.  Brief. 
Send you comfort of your Virtuous Lady; ha', ha'.  Ruff. 
Shall these Rogues laugh they cheated me of above threescore pounds to Night already? Make 'em repay me that sum, I'll forgive all.  Much. 
We'll Dine together, and they shall pay the Reckoning.  Brief. 
Good Sir, 'las, 'tis all we have to trust to.  Ruff. 
No grumbling, Rascals, if you do, I'll swinge you: But, Gentlemen, be tender of my Honour, and I'll take all; say nothing, I'll to my Estate in the Country, where I shall pass for as Valiant a Squire, and my Wife for as Virtuous a Lady as the best there.  Town. 
Well resolved on, and I assure you I'll not Visit your Lady when you are from Home, Rose and I will keep close together.  Hon. 
But, Rose, I hope you don't mean to take such courses.  Rose. 
No, Madam, you may be sure on't, Mr. Townlove's merry, and talks wildly, that's all; if he and I keep Company, it shall be merely in Friendship; I would not for the World lose my Reputation with him, I hope you have all better thoughts of me.  Town. 
No, Rose, I'll warrant 'em thou and I will secure one another's Reputations.  
For want of Custom wonder doth produce,  
And ills do lose that Name by frequent use.    

EPILOGUE.  
POets we justly may Wit's Babbles call;  
For they to almost nothing venture all.  
They with each Play their Reputations stake,  
And ten to one, if good, it doth not take.  
In those that do, that part you only praise,  
Which Comedians mimickry doth raise;  
So he, and not the Poet, gets the Bays.  
But if by Chance some Writer does Extort  
From the World's Vogue a pretty good Report,  
'Tis so allayed by but why that or this,  
That he might justly wish 'twas none of his.  
Hard Fate! Have they alone! All men beside  
Some Curtain still, their faults to hid.  
Statesmen their Errors on their Agents lay;  
'Tis Chance of War makes Soldiers lose a Day:  
And your Physicians shame Death wipes away;  
But every Fool finds faults in every Play.  
Things being so, it cannot be denied,  
But to be Poet is a man's blind side.  
This is the cause why Active times produce  
The fewest Writers for the Stages Use.  
The World is busy now; and some dare say  
We have not seen of late one good New Play.  
And such believe Shakespeare, long since in's Grave,  
In Choicest libraries a place will have.  
When not a modern Play will scape the fire:  
I beg their pardons who themselves admire.  
Not but this Age hath many men as Wise,  
But wisely they this begging Art despise.  
And two to one, was he alive this Day,  
He'd have more wit, than e'er to write a Play.  
His Fruitful Brain would find Employment now,  
Which Times of drowsy Peace did not allow;  
Then that you writ not too, pray think your Eat,  
Good lucky Poets, of your Sword and State:  
And be not too severe on those that do,  
For all you Play hath its Spectators too.  
'Mongst which there's some are Fools enough to blame  
Our present War, the greatest Scene of Fame.  
The best contrived, best lead, and bravest fought  
Of all, in which England has Glory sought.  
Yet if Cross Winds, or Storms do make you miss  
One Action, straight Fanatic Critics hiss.  
An Envious sort of Sots, like ours i'th' Pit;  
Who having none, still rail at all have Wit.  
Our Author, though, is safe, and fears 'em not,  
His Play pretends neither to Wit nor Plot;  
But should you Damn it with your utmost spite,  
When next he's idle, he again will Write.  
FINIS.