THE Provoked Wife, A COMEDY.   

Books Printed for and lately Published by Richard Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard.  

FAmiliar Letters, Written by john Late Earl of Rochester in two Volumes; each Volume may be had singly.  
Ovid's travesty: or a Burlesque on Ovid's Epistles, by Captain Alexander Radcliff.  
The whole Works of that Excellent Physician Dr. Tho. Sydenham, Englished.  
Poems on several occasions, with a Satire on the Playhouse, by Mr. Robert Gould.  
The Histories and Novels of the late Ingenious Mrs. Behn, Collected into one Volume. A Discourse of the Nature and Faculties of Man, in several Essays; with Reflections upon the occurrences of Humane Life, by Tim. Nourse, Gent.  
The Family Physician, or a Collection of Choice, and Approved Remedies for the Cure of all Diseases incident to Humane Bodies; useful in Families, and Serviceable to Country People. To which is added the true English Wine Cellar, being the Right Method of making English Wines or Metheglin; with a Collection of the Choicest Cosmetick Remedies for Preserving the Beauty and Complexion of Ladies, never before Published. By George Heartman, Servant to Sir Kenelm Digby, till he Died.  
A General History of the Diseases of Infants and Children, by john Peachey of the College of Physicians.  
Plautus' Comedies Englished by Mr. Eachard.  
The Art of Knowing one's self, or a Diligent search into the Springs of Morality, written in French, by james Abbadie, D. D. faithfully Englished.   
Next week will be Published an End to the Controversy between the Church of England and Dissenters, in which all their Pleas for Separation from the Church of England are proved to be Insufficient, from the Writings of the most Eminent among the Dissenters themselves. And their Separation Condemned by the Reformed Churches,   

THE Provoked Wife: A COMEDY, As it is Acted at the New Theatre, IN Little Lincolns-Inn-Fields.  
By the Author of a New Comedy called the Relapse, or Virtue in Danger.  
LONDON, Printed by I. O. for R. Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Church Yard, and Sam. Briscoe in Covent-Garden 1697.  

ADVERTISEMENT.  
☞ Plays lately published: Anatomist, or Sham-Doctor: Rule a Wise and have a Wife: Rover, or the Banished Cavalier: The Younger Brother, or Amorous Jil●● Spanish Wives, a Farce: Unnatural Brother, a Tragedy: Triumphs of Virtue▪ a Tragicomedy. All Printed for Richard Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard: Where you may be furnished with most Plays.  
Next Week will be published the Plot and no Plot, A new Comedy, Written by Mr. Denn●●.    

PROLOGUE To the Provoked Wife, spoke by Mistress Bracegirdle.  
SInce 'tis the Intent and Business of the Stage,  
To Copy out the Follies of the Age;  
To hold to every Man a Faithful Glass,  
And show him of what Species he's an Ass.  
I hope the next that teaches in the School,  
Will show our Author he's a scribbling Fool.  
And that the satire may be sure to Bite,  
Kind Heaven! Inspire some venomed Priest to Write,  
And grant some Ugly Lady may Indite.  
For I would have him lashed, by heavens'! I would,  
Till his presumption swam away in Blood.  
Three Plays at once proclaims a Face of Brass,  
No matter what they are! That's not the Case,  
To Write three Plays, even that's to be an Ass.  
But what I least forgive, he knows it too,  
For to his Cost he lately has known you.  
Experience shows, to many a Writers smart  
You hold a Court where mercy ne'er had part;  
So much of the old Serpent's Sting you have,  
You Love to Damn, as Heaven Delights to Save.  
In Foreign Parts, let a bold Voluntiere,  
For public Good upon the Stage appear,  
He meets ten thousand Smiles to Dissipate his Fear.  
All tickle on, th' adventuring young Beginner,  
And only scourge th' incorragible Sinner;  
They touch indeed his Faults, but with a hand  
So gentle, that his Merit still may stand:  
Kindly they Buoy the Follies of his Pen,  
That he may shun 'em when he Writes again.  
But 'tis not so, in this good natured Town,  
All's one, an Ox, a Poet, or a Crown,  
Old England's play was always knocking Down.   

EPILOGUE, By another Hand.  Spoken by Lady Brute and Bellinda. Lady B. 
NO Epilogue!  Bell. 
I Swear I know of none.  Lady. 
Lord! How shall we excuse it to the Town?  Bell. 
Why, we must e'en say something of our own.  Lady 
Our own! Ay, that must needs be precious stuff.  Bell. 
I'll lay my life they'll like it well enough.  
Come Faith begin—  Lady 
Excuse me, after you.  Bell. 
Nay, pardon me for that, I know my Cue.  Lady 
O for the World, I would not have Precedence.  Bell. 
O Lord!  Lady 
I Swear—  Bell. 
O Fie!  Lady 
I'm all Obedience.  
First then, know all, before our Doom is fixed,  
The Third day is for us—  Bell. 
Nay, and the Sixt.  Lady 
We speak not from the Poet now, nor is it  
His Cause— (I want a Rhyme)  Bell. 
That we solicit.  Lady 
Then sure you cannot have the hearts to be severe  
And Damn us—  Bell. 
Damn us! Let 'em if they Dare.  Lady 
Why, if they should, what punishment Remains?  Bell. 
Eternal Exile from behind our Scenes.  Lady 
But if they're kind, that sentence we'll recall,  
We can be grateful—  Bell. 
And have wherewithal.  Lady 
But at grand Treaties, hope not to be Trusted,  
Before Preliminaries are adjusted.  Bell. 
You know the Time, and we appoint this place;  
Where, if you please, we'll meet and sign the Peace.   

dramatis Personae.  
Constant. 
Mr. Verbrugen.  Heartfree. 
Mr. Hudson.  Sir john Brute. 
Mr. Betterton.  Treble, A Singing Master. 
Mr. Bowman.  Razor, Vallet de Chambre to Sir I. B. 
Mr. Bowen.  Justice of the Peace. 
Mr. Bright.  Lord Rake Companion to Sir, I. B. 
 Coll. Bully Companion to Sir, I. B. 
 Constable and Watch. 
  
Lady Brute. 
Mrs. Barry.  Bellinda her Niece. 
Mrs. Bracegirdle.  Lady fanciful. 
Mrs. Bowman.  Madamoiselle. 
Mrs. Willis.  Cor. and Pipe, Servants to Lady Fancy. 
   

THE Provoked Wife.  
ACT the First.  Scene Sir John Brutus' House. Enter Sir John, solus. 
WHAT cloying meat is Love,— when Matrimonies the Sauce to it. Two years' Marriage has debauched my five Senses. Every thing I see, every thing I hear, every thing I feel, every thing I smell, and every thing I taste— methinks has Wife in't.  
No Boy was ever so weary of his Tutor; no Girl of her Bib; no Nun of doing Penance nor Old Maid of being chaste, as I am of being Married.  
Sure there's a secret Curse entailed upon the very Name of Wife. My Lady is a young Lady, a fine Lady, a Witty Lady, a Virtuous Lady— and yet I hate her. There is but one thing on Earth I loathe beyond her: That's fight. Would my Courage come up but to a fourth part of my Ill Nature, I'd stand buff to her Relations, and thrust her out of Doors.  
But Marriage has sunk me down to such an Ebb of Resolution, I dare not draw my Sword, though even to get rid of my Wife. But here she comes.  Enter Lady Brute. Lady. 
Do you Dine at home to day, Sir john?  Sir joh. 
Why, do you expect I should tell you, what I don't know myself?  Lady. 
I thought there was no harm in asking you.  Sir joh. 
If thinking wrong were an excuse for Impertinence, Women might be justified in most things they say or do.  Lady. 
I'm sorry I have said any thing to displease you.  Sir joh. 
Sorrow for things past, is of as little Importance to me, as my dining at home or a broad aught to be to you.  Lady B. 
My Enquiry was only that I might have provided what you liked.  Sir joh. 
Six to four you had been in the wrong there again, for what I liked yesterday I done't like to day, and what I like to day, 'tis odds I mayn't like to morrow.  Lady B. 
But if I had asked you what you liked?  Sir joh. 
Why then there would have been more asking about it, than the thing was worth.  Lady B. 
I wish I did but know how I might please you.  Sir joh. 
Ay, but that sort of knowledge is not a Wife's Talon.  Lady B. 
What e'er my Talon is, I'm sure my Will has ever been to make you easy.  Sir joh. 
If Women were to have their Wills, the World would be finely governed.  Lady B. 
What reason have I given you to use me as you do of late? It once was otherwise: You married me for Love.  Sir joh. 
And you me for Money: So you have your Reward, and I have mine.  Lady B. 
What is it that disturbs you?  Sir joh. 
A Parson.  Lady B. 
Why, what has he done to you?  Sir joh. 
He has married me. Exit Sir John.  Enter Lady Brute, sola. 
The Devil's in the Fellow I think— I was told before I married him, that thus 'twould be; But I thought I had Charms enough to govern him; and that where there was an Estate, a Woman must needs be happy; so my Vanity has deceived me, and my Ambition has made me uneasy. But some comfort still; if one would be revenged of him, these are good times; a Woman may have a Gallant, and a separate maintenance too— The surly Puppy— yet he's a Fool for't: For hitherto he has been no Monster: But who knows how far he may provoke me. I never loved him, yet I have been ever true to him; and that, in spite of all the attacks of Art and Nature upon a poor weak Woman's heart, in favour of a Tempting Lover.  
Methinks so Noble a Defence as I have made, should be rewarded with a better usage— Or who can tell— Perhaps a good part of what I suffer from my Husband may be a Judgement upon me for my cruelty to my Lover.— Lord with what pleasure could I indulge that thought, were there but a possibility of finding Arguments to make it good. And how do I know but there may— Let me see— What opposes?— My Matrimonial Vow?— Why, what did I Vow: I think I promised to be true to my Husband.  
Well; and he promised to be kind to me.  
But he han't kept his Word—  
Why then I'm absolved from mine— ay, that seems clear to me. The Arguments good between the King and the People, why not between the Husband and the Wife? O, but that Condition was not expressed.— No matter, 'twas understood.  
Well, by all I see, If I argue the matter a little longer with myself, I shan't find so many Bug-bears in the way, as I thought I should. Lord what fine notions of Virtue do we Women take up upon the Credit of old foolish Philosophers. Virtue's its own reward, Virtue's this, Virtue's that;— Virtue's an Ass, and a Gallant's worth forty on't.  Enter Bellinda. Lady. 
Good morrow, Dear Cousin.  Bel. 
Good morrow, Madam; you look pleased this morning.  Lady. 
I am so.  Bel. 
With what, pray?  Lady. 
With my Husband.  Bel. 
Drown Husbands; for yours is a provoking Fellow: As he went out just now, I prayed him to tell me what time of day 'twas: And he asked me if I took him for the Church Clock, that was Obliged to tell all the Parish.  Lady B. 
He has been saying some good obliging things to me too. In short, Bellinda, he has used me so barbarously of late, that I could almost resolve to play the downright Wife,— and Cuckold him.  Bel. 
That would be downright indeed.  Lady B. 
Why, after all, there's more to be said for't then you'd Imagine, Child. I know according to the strict Statute Law of Religion, I should do wrong: But if there were a Court of Chancery in Heaven, I'm sure I should cast him.  Bel. 
If there were a House of Lords you might.  Lady B. 
In either I should infallibly carry my Cause.  
Why, he is the first Agressor. Not I  Bel. 
Ay, but you know, we must return Good for Evil.  Lady B. 
That may be a mistake in the Translation—  
Prithee be of my opinion, Bellinda; for I'm positive I'm in the right; and if you'll keep up the Prerogative of a Woman, you'll likewise be positive you are in the right, when ever you do any thing you have a mind to. But I shall play the fool, and jest on till I make you begin to think I'm in Earnest  Bel. 
I sha'n't take the liberty, Madam, to think of any thing that you desire to keep a Secret from me.  Lady B. 
Alas, my Dear, I have no Secrets. My heart could never yet confine my Tongue.  Bel. 
Your eyes you mean; for I am sure I have seen them gadding, when your Tongue has been locked up safe enough.  Lady B. 
My eyes gadding? Prithee after who, Child?  Bel. 
Why, after one that thinks you hate him, as much as I know you love him.  Lady B. 
Constant you mean.  Bel. 
I do so.  Lady B. 
Lord, what should put such a thing into your head?  Bel. 
That which puts things into most people's Heads; Observation.  Lady B. 
Why, what have you observed, in the name of Wonder?  Bel. 
I have observed you blush when you meet him; force yourself away from him; and then be out of humour with every thing about you: In a word; never was poor Creature so spurred on by desire, and so reined in with fear!  Lady B. 
How strong is Fancy!  Bel. 
How weak is Woman  Lady B. 
Prithee, Niece, have a better opinion of your Aunt's Inclinations.  Bel. 
Dear Aunt, have a better opinion of your Neice's Understanding.  Lady B. 
You'll make me Angry.  Bel. 
You'll make me Laugh.  Lady B. 
Then you are resolved to persist?  Bel. 
Positively.  Lady Bel. 
And all I can say—  Bel. 
Will signify nothing,  Lady B. 
Tho' I should swear 'twere false—  Bel. 
I should think it true.  Lady B. 
Then let us both forgive [kissing her] for we have both offended. I in making a Secret, you in discovering it.  Bel. 
Good nature may do much: But you have more reason to forgive one, than I have to pardon t'other.  Lady B. 
'Tis true, Bellinda, you have given me so many proofs or your Friendship, that my reserve has been indeed a Crime: But that you may more easily forgive me, Remember, Child, that when our Nature prompts us to a thing, our Honour and Religion have forbid us. We would (were't possible) conceal even from the Soul itself, the knowledge of the Body's weakness.  Bel. 
Well, I hope, to make your Friend amends, you'll hide nothing from her for the future, tho' the Body should still grow weaker and weaker.  Lady B. 
No, from this moment I have no more reserve; and for a proof of my Repentance, I own, Bellinda, I'm in danger. Merit and Wit assault me from without: Nature and Love solicit me within; my Husbands barbarous usage piques me to revenge; and Satan catching at the fair occasion, throws in my way that vengeance, which of all Vengeance pleases Women best.  Bel. 
'Tis well Constant don't know the weakness of the Fortifications; for o'my Conscience he'd soon come on to the Assault.  Lady B. 
Ay, and I'm afraid carry the Town too. But whatever you may have observed, I have dissembled so well as to keep him Ignorant. So you see I'm no Coquet, Bellinda: And if you'll follow my advice you'll never be one neither. 'Tis true, Coquettry is one of the main ingredients in the natural Composition of a Woman, and I as well as others, could be well enough pleased to see a Crowd of young Fellows, Ogling and Glancing and Watching all occasions to do forty foolish officious things: nay should some of 'em push on, even to Hanging or Drowning: Why— Faith— if I should let pure Woman alone, I should e'en be but too well pleased with't.  Bel. 
I'll swear 'twould tickle me strangely.  Lady B. 
But after all, 'tis a Vicious practice in us, to give the least encouragement but where we design to come to a Conclusion. For 'tis an unreasonable thing, to engage a Man in a Disease which we beforehand resolve we never will apply a Cure to.  Bel. 
'Tis true; but then a Woman must abandon one of the supreme Blessings of her Life. For I am fully convinced, no Man has half that pleasure in possessing a Mistress, as a Woman has in jilting a Gallant.  Lady B. 
The Happiest Woman then on Earth must be our Neighbour.  Bel. 
O the Impertinent Composition; she has Vanity and Affectation enough to make her a Ridiculous Original, in spite of all that Art and Nature ever furnished to any of her Sex before her.  Lady B. 
She concludes all Men her Captives; and whatever Course they take, it serves to confirm her in that opinion.  Bel. 
If they shun her, she thinks 'tis modesty, and takes it for a proof of their Passion.  Lady B. 
And if they are rude to her, 'tis Conduct, and done to prevent Town talk.  Bel. 
When her Folly makes 'em laugh, she thinks they are pleased with her Wit..  Lady B. 
And when her impertinence makes 'em Dull, Concludes they are jealous of her favours.  Bel. 
All their Actions and their Words, she takes for granted, aim at her.  Lady B. 
And pities all other Women, because she thinks they envy her.  Bel. 
Pray, out of pity to ourselves, let us find a better Subject, for I am weary of this. Do you think your Husband inclined to Jealousy?  Lady B. 
O, no; he does not love me well enough for that.  
Lord how wrong mens' Maxims are. They are seldom jealous of their Wives, unless they are very fond of 'em; whereas they ought to consider the Woman's inclinations, for there depends their Fate.  
Well, Men may talk; but they are not so Wise as we— that's certain.  Bel. 
At least in our Affairs.  Lady B. 
Nay, I believe we should out do 'em in the business of the State too: For me thinks they Do and Undo, and make but mad work on't  Belgiosa 
Why then done't we get into the Intrigues of Government as well as they?  Lady B. 
Because we have Intrigues of our own, that make us more sport, Child. And so let's in and consider of 'em. Exeunt.  SCENE. A Dressing Room. Enter Lady fanciful, Mademoiselle and Cornet. Lady Fan. 
How do I look this morning?  Cor. 
Your Ladyship looks very ill, truly.  Lady Fan. 
Lard how ill-natured thou art, Cornet, to tell me so, though the thing should be true. Don't you know that I have humility enough to be but too easily out of Conceit with myself. Hold the Glass; I dare swear that will have more manners than you have▪ Mademoiselle, let me have your opinion too.  Madam. 
My opinion pe, Matam, dat your Ladyship never look so well in your Life.  Lady Fan. 
Well, the French are the prettiest obliging People, they say the most acceptable, well mannered things— and never flatter.  Madam. 
Your Ladyship say great Justice inteed.  Lady Fan. 
Nay every thing's Just in my House but Cornet. The very Looking-Glass gives her the Dementi. But I'm almost afraid it flatters me, it makes me look so very engaging. Looking affectedly in the Glass.  Madam. 
Inteed, Matam, your Face pe handsomer den all de Looking-Glass in tee World, croyiez moy.  Lady Fan. 
But is it possible my Eyes can be so languishing— and so very full of fire?  Madam. 
Matam, if de Glass was burning Glass, I believe your Eyes set the fire in de House.  Lady Fan. 
You may take that Nightgown, Madamoiselle; get out of the Room Cornet; I can't endure you. This Wench methinks does look so unsufferably ugly. Exit Cor.  Madam. 
Every ting look ugly Matam, dat stand by your Latiship.  Lady Fan. 
No really, Madamoiselle, methinks you look mighty pretty.  Madam. 
Ah Matam; the Moon have to Eclat, ven de Sun appear.  Lady Fan. 
O pretty Expression. Have you ever been in Love, Mademoiselle?  Madam. 
Ouy, Matam. sighing.  Lady Fan. 
And were you, beloved again?  Madam. 
No Matam. sighing  Lady Fan. 
O ye Gods, What an Unfortunate Creature should I be in such a Case. But nature has made me Nice for my own defence; I'm Nice, strangely Nice, Mademoiselle; I believe were the merit of whole mankind bestowed upon one single Person, I should still think the Fellow wanted something, to make it worth my while to take notice of him: And yet I could Love; nay fondly Love, were it possible to have a thing made on purpose for me: For I'm not cruel, Mademoiselle, I'm only Nice.  Madam. 
Ah Matam, I wish I was fine Gentleman for your sake. I do all de ting in de World to get leetel way into your heart. I make Song, I make Verse, I give you de Serenade, I give great many Present to Mademoiselle, I no eat, I no sleep, I be lean, I be mad, I hang myself, I drown myself? Ah ma Cheer Dame, Que je vous Aimerois. Embracing her.  Lady Fan. 
Well the French have strange obliging ways with 'em; you may take those two pair of Gloves mademoiselle.  Madam. 
Me humbly tank my sweet Lady.  Enter Cornet. Cor. 
Madam here's a Letter for your Ladyship by the Penny-post.  Lady Fan. 
Some new Conquest I'll warrant you. For without Vanity I looked extremely clear last night, when I went to the Park.  
O agreeable. Here's a new Song made of me. And ready set too. O thou Welcome thing. (Kissing it) Call Pipe hither, she shall Sing it instantly.  Enter Pipe. 
Here, Sing me this new Song, Pipe.  

SONG.  

I.  
FLy, fly, you happy Shepherds, fly,  
Avoid Philira's Charms;  
The rigour of her heart denies  
The Heaven that's in her Arms.  
Ne'er hope to gaze and then retire,  
Nor yielding, to be blessed:  
Nature who formed her Eyes of Fire,  
Of Ice Composed her Breast.   

II.  
Yet, lovely Maid, this once believe  
A slave, whose Zeal you move:  
The Gods Alas, your youth deceive;  
Their Heaven consists in Love.  
In spite of all the thanks you owe,  
You may Reproach 'em this,  
That where they did their Form bestow  
They have denied their Bliss.    Lady Fan. 
Well, there may be faults, Madamoiselle, but the Design is so very obliging, 'twould be a matchless Ingratitude in me to discover 'em.  Madam. 
Ma foy Matam, I tink de Gentelman's Song tell you de trute. If you never Love, you never be Happy— Ah— que I' aime l' amour moy.  Enter Servant with another Letter. Seru. 
Madam here's another Letter for your Ladyship.  Lady Fan. 
'Tis thus I am importuned every morning, Mademoiselle. Pray how do the French Ladies when they are thus Accablées?  Madam. 
Matam, they never Complain. Au Contraire. When one Frense Laty have got hundred Lover— Den she do all she can— to get hundred more.  Lady Fan. 
Well, strike me dead, I think they have Le gout bon. For 'tis an unutterable pleasure to be adored by all the Men, and envied by all the Women— Yet I'll swear I'm concerned at the Torture I give 'em. Lard, why was I formed to make the whole Creation uneasy? But let me read my Letter.  Reads. 
If you have a mind to hear of your faults, instead of being praised for your Virtues, take the pains to walk in the Green walk in St. James' with your Woman an hour hence. You'll there meet one, who hates you for some things, as he could love you for Others, and therefore is willing to endeavour your Reformation— If you come to the Place I mention, you'll know who I am; if you done't, you never shall, so take your Choice.  
This is strangely Familiar, Madamoiselle; now have I a provoking Fancy to know who this Impudent fellow is.  Madam. 
Den take your Scarf and your Mask, and go to de Rendezvous De Frense Laty do iustement comme sa.  Lady Fan. 
Rendezvous! What, Rendezvous with a man; Mademoiselle.  Madam 
Eh, pourquoy non?  Lady Fan. 
What? and a man perhaps I never saw in my Life  Madam. 
Tant mieux: c'est donc quelque chose de nouveau.  Lady Fan. 
Why, how do I know what designs he may have. He may intend to Ravish me for aught I know.  Madam. 
Ravish?— Bagatelle. I would fain see one Impudent Rogue Ravish Mademoiselle; Ouy, je le voadrois.  Lady Fan. 
O but my Reputation, Mademoiselle, my Reputation, a● ma Cheer Reputation.  Madam. 
Matam;— Quand on l' a une fois perdue— On n'en est plus embarassee.  Lady Fan. 
Fe Mademoiselle, Fe: Reputation is a Jewel.  Madam. 
Qui coute bien cheer Matam.  Lady Fan. 
Why sure you would not Sacrifice your Honour to your Pleasure?  Madam 
Je suis Philosophe.  Lady Fan. 
Bless me how you talk. Why what if Honour be a burden, Mademoiselle, must it not be born?  Madam. 
Chaque un a sa fason— quand quelque chose my incommode moy je m' en defais, Vite.  Lady Fan. 
Get you gone you little naughty French woman you, I vow and swear I must turn you out of doors if you talk thus.  Madam. 
Turn me out of doors?— turn yourself out of doors and go see what the Gentleman have to say to you Tennez. Voila [giving her her things hastily] vostre Esharpe, Voila vostre Coif, Voila vostre Masque, Voila tout.  
hay, Mercure, Coquin; Call one Chair for Matam, and one oder (Calling within.) for me, Va t'en Vite. Turning to her Lady and helping her on hastily with her things. Alons, Matam; depechez vous donc. Mon Dieu quelles scrupules.  Lady Fan. 
Well, for once, Mademoiselle, I'll follow your Advice, out of the intemperate desire I have to know who this ill bred Fellow is. But I have too much Delicatesse, to make a Practice on it.  Madam. 
Belle chose Vraiment que la Delicatesse, lors qu' il s'agit dese devertir.— a za— Vous Voila equipée parto●ns.— He bien?— q' avez vous donc?  Lady Fan. 
I' ay peur.  Madam. 
I' n'en ay point moy.  Lady Fan. 
I dare not go.  Madam. 
Demeurez donc.  Lady Fan. 
Je suis Poltrone.  Madam. 
Tant pis pour Vous  Lady Fan. 
Curiosity's a wicked Devil.  Madam. 
C'est une Charmante saint.  Lady Fan. 
It ruined our first Parents.  Madam. 
Elle a bien diverti leurs Enfants.  Lady Fan. 
L' honneur est contre.  Madam. 
Le plaisir est pour.  Lady Fan. 
Must I then go?  Madam. 
Must you go?— must you eat, must you drink, must you sleep, must you live? De nature bid you do one, de nature bid you do toder. Vous me ferez enrager.  Lady Fan. 
But when reason corrects nature, Mademoiselle.  Madam. 
Elle est donc bien Insolente C'est sa soeur aisnée.  Lady Fan. 
Do you then prefer your nature to your reason, Mademoiselle.  Madam. 
Ouy da.  Lady Fan. 
Pourquoy?  Madam. 
Because my nature make me merry, my reason make me mad.  Lady Fan. 
Ah la Mechante Fransoise.  Madam. 
Ah la Belle Angloise, forcing her Lady off.  
The End of the first Act.   

ACT the Second.  SCENE, St. James' Park. Enter Lady Fanciful and Mademoiselle. Lady Fanc. 
WEll, I vow, Mademoiselle I'm strangely impatient to know who this confident Fellow is. Enter Heartfree. Look, there's Heartfree. But sure it can't be him, he's a professed Woman-hater. Yet who knows what my wicked Eyes may have done?  Madam. 
Il nous approach, Madam.  Lady Fanc. 
Yes, 'tis he: Now will he be most intolerably Cavalier, tho' he should be in love with me.  Heartf. 
Madam, I'm your humble Servant: I perceive you have more Humility and Good-nature than I thought you had.  Lady Fanc. 
What you attribute to Humility and Good-nature, Sir, may perhaps be only due to Curiosity. I had a mind to know who 'twas had ill manners enough to write that Letter.  Throwing him his Letter. Heartf. 
Well, and now, I hope, you are satisfied.  Lady Fanc. 
I am so, Sir; good b'w'y to ye.  Heartf. 
Nay, hold there; tho' you have done your Business, I han't done mine: By your ladyship's leave, we must have one moments prattle together. Have you a mind to be the prettiest Woman about Town, or not? How she stares upon me! What! this passes for an impertinent Question with you now, because you think you are so already.  Lady Fanc. 
Pray Sir, let me ask you a Question in my turn: By what right do you pretend to examine me?  Heartf. 
By the same right that the Strong govern the Weak, because I have you in my power; for you cannot get so quickly to your Coach, but I shall have time enough to make you hear every thing I have to say to you.  Lady Fanc. 
These are strange Liberties you take, Mr. Heartfree.  Heartf. 
They are so, Madam, but there's no help for it; for know, that I have a Design upon you.  Lady Fanc. 
Upon me, Sir!  Heartfr. 
Yes; and one that will turn to your Glory and my Comfort, if you will but be a little wiser than you use to be.  Lady Fanc. 
Very well, Sir.  Heartfr. 
Let me see,— Your Vanity, Madam, I take to be about some eight degrees higher than any Woman's in the Town, let t'other be who she will; and my Indifference is naturally about the same pitch. Now, could you find the way to turn this Indifference into Fire and Flames, methinks your Vanity ought to be satisfied; and this, perhaps, you might bring about upon pretty reasonable terms.  Lady Fanc. 
And pray at what rate would this Indifference be bought off, if one should have so depraved an Appetite to desire it?  Heartfr. 
Why, Madam, to drive a Quaker's Bargain, and make but one word with you, if I do part with it,— you must lay me down— your Affectation.  Lady Fanc. 
My Affectation, Sir!  Heartfr. 
Why, I ask you nothing but what you may very well spare.  Lady Fanc. 
You grow rude, Sir. Come, Mademoiselle, 'tis high time to be gone.  Madam. 
Alons, alons, alons.  Heartfr. 
(stopping 'em) Nay, you may as well stand still for hear me, you shall, walk which way you please.  Lady Fanc. 
What mean you, sir?  Heartfr. 
I mean to tell you, that you are the most ungrateful Woman upon Earth.  Lady Fanc. 
Ungrateful! To who?  Heartfr. 
To Nature.  Lady Fanc. 
Why, what has Nature done for me?  Heartfr. 
What you have undone by Art. It made you handsome; it gave you Beauty to a Miracle, a Shape without a fault, Wit enough to make 'em relish, and so turned you lose to your own Discretion; which has made such Work with you, that you are become the Pity of our Sex, and the Jest of your own. There is not a Feature in your Face, but you have found the way to teach it some affected Convulsion; your Feet, your Hands, your very Fingers ends, are directed never to move without some ridiculous Air or other; and your Language is a suitable Trumpet, to draw People's Eyes upon the Rareeshow.  Madam. 
(aside) Est ce qu'on fais l'amour en Angleterre comme sa?  Lady Fanc. 
(aside) Now could I cry for madness, but that I know he'd laugh at me for it.  Heartfr. 
Now do you hate me for telling you the Truth; but that's because you don't believe it is so: for were you once convinced of that, you'd reform for your own sake. But 'tis as hard to persuade a Woman to quit any thing that makes her ridiculous, as 'tis to prevail with a Poet to see a Fault in his own Play.  Lady Fanc. 
Every Circumstance of nice Breeding must needs appear ridiculous to one who has so natural an Antipathy to good Manners.  Heartfr. 
But suppose I could find the means to convince you, That the whole World is of my Opinion, and that those who flatter and commend you, do it to no other intent, but to make you persevere in your Folly, that they may continue in their Mirth.  Lady Fanc. 
Sir, tho' you and all that World you talk of, should be so impertinently officious, as to think to persuade me, I don't know how to behave myself, I should still have Charity enough for my own Understanding, to believe myself in the right, and all you in the wrong.  Madam. 
Le voila mort. Exeunt Lady Fanc. and Mademoiselle.  Heartfr. 
(gazing after her) There her single Clapper has published the sense of the whole Sex.  
Well, this once I have endeavoured to wash the Blackamoor white; but henceforward I'll sooner undertake to teach Sincerity to a Courtier, Generosity to an Usurer, Honesty to a Lawyer, nay, Humility to a Divine, than Discretion to a Woman I see has once set her Heart upon playing the Fool.  Enter Constant. 
‛ Morrow, Constant.  Const. 
Good morrow, jack; What are you doing here this morning?  Heartfr. 
Doing! guests if thou canst.  
Why, I have been endeavouring to persuade my Lady Fanciful, that she's the foolishest Woman about Town.  Const. 
A pretty Endeavour truly.  Heartfr. 
I have told her in as plain English as I could speak, both what the Town says of her, and what I think of her. In short, I have used her as an Absolute King would do Magna Charta.  Const. 
And how does she take it?  Heartfr. 
As Children do Pills; bite 'em, but can't swallow 'em.  Const. 
But, prithee, what has put it in your Head, of all Mankind, to turn Reformer?  Heartfr. 
Why, one thing was, the Morning hung upon my Hands, I did not know what to do with myself. And another was, That as little as I care for Women, I could not see with patience one that Heaven had taken such wondrous pains about, be so very industrious, to make herself the jack Pudding of the Creation.  Const. 
Well, now could I almost wish to see my cruel Mistress make the selfsame use of what Heaven has done for her, that so I might be cured of a Disease that makes me so very uneasy; for Love, Love is the Devil, Heartfree.  Heartfr. 
And why do you let the Devil govern you?  Const. 
Because I have more Flesh and Blood than Grace and Self-denial. My dear, dear Mistress, ' d Sdeath! that so genteel a Woman should be a Saint, when Religion's out of fashion!  Heartfr. 
Nay, she's much in the wrong truly; but who knows how far Time and Good Example may prevail?  Const. 
O! they have played their Parts in vain already: 'Tis now two Years since that damned fellow her Husband invited me to his Wedding; and there was the first time I saw that charming Woman, whom I have loved ever since, more than e'er a Martyr did his Soul; but she's cold, my Friend, still cold as the Northern Star.  Heartfr. 
So are all Women by Nature, which makes 'em so willing to be warmed.  Const. 
O, don't profane the Sex; prithee think 'em all Angels for her sake, for she's virtuous, even to a fault.  Heartfr. 
A Lover's Head is a good accountable thing truly; he adores his Mistress for being virtuous, and yet is very angry with her, because she won't be lewd.  Const. 
Well, the only Relief I expect in my Misery, is to see thee some day or other as deeply engaged as myself, which will force me to be merry in the midst of all my Misfortunes.  Heartfr. 
That day will never come, be assured, Ned: Not but that I can pass a Night with a Woman, and for the time, perhaps, make myself as good sport as you can do. Nay, I can court a Woman too, call her Nymph, Angel, Goddess, what you please; but here's the Difference 'twixt you and I: I persuade a Woman she's an Angel; she persuades you she's one.  
Prithee let me tell you how I avoid falling in love; that which serves me for Prevention, may chance to serve you for a Cure.  Const. 
Well, use the Ladies moderately then, and I'll hear you.  Heartfr. 
That using 'em moderately undoes us all; but I'll use 'em justly, and that you ought to be satisfied with.  
I always consider a Woman, not as the Tailor, the Shoemaker, the Tirewoman, the Sempstress, (and which is more than all that) the Poet makes her; but I consider her as pure Nature has contrived her, and that more strictly than I should have done our old Grandmother Eve, had I seen her naked in the Garden; for I consider her turned inside out. Her Heart well examined, I find there Pride, Vanity, Covetousness, Indiscretion, but above all things, Malice; Plots eternally aforging, to destroy one another's Reputations, and as honestly to charge the Levity of men's Tongues with the Scandal; hourly Debates how to make poor Gentlemen in love with 'em, with no other intent, but to use 'em like Dogs when they have done; a constant Desire of doing more mischief, and an everlasting War, waged against Truth and Good-nature.  Const. 
Very well, Sir, an admirable Composition truly.  Heartfr. 
Then for her Outside, I consider it merely as an Outside; She has a thin Tiffany covering over just such Stuff as you and I are made on.  
As for her Motion, her Mien, her Airs, and all those Tricks, I know they affect you mightily. If you should see your Mistress at a Coronation, dragging her Peacock's Train, with all her state and insolence about her, 'twould strike you with all the awful thoughts that Heaven itself could pretend to from you; whereas I turn the whole matter into a Jest, and suppose her strutting in the selfsame stately manner, with nothing on but her Stays, and her under scanty 〈◊〉 Petticoat.  Const. 
Hold thy profane Tongue, for I'll hear no more.  Heartfr. 
What you'll love on then?  Const. 
Yes, to Eternity.  Heartfr. 
Yet you have no Hopes at all.  Const. 
None.  Heartfr. 
Nay, the Resolution may be discreet enough; perhaps you have found out some new Philosophy, That Love's like Virtue, it's own Reward: so you and your Mistress will be as well content at a distance, as others that have less Learning are in coming together.  Const. 
No; but if she should prove kind at last, my dear Heartfree. Embracing him.  Heartfr. 
Nay, prithee don't take me for your Mistress, for Lovers are very troublesome.  Const. 
Well, who knows what Time may do?  Heartfr. 
And just now he was sure Time could do nothing.  Const. 
Yet not one kind Glance in Two Years, is somewhat strange.  Heartfr. 
Not strange at all; she don't like you, that's all the business.  Const. 
Prithee don't distract me.  Heartfr. 
Nay, you are a good handsome young Fellow, she might use you better: Come, will you go see her? perhaps she may have changed her mind; there's some Hopes as long as she's a Woman.  Const. 
O, 'tis in vain to visit her: sometimes to get a sight of her, I visit that Beast her Husband, but she certainly finds some Pretence to quit the Room as soon as I enter.  Heartfr. 
It's much she don't tell him you have made Love to her too, for that's another good-natured thing usual amongst Women, in which they have several Ends.  
Sometimes 'tis to recommend their Virtue, that they may be lewd with the greater security.  
Sometimes 'tis to make their Husband's fight in hopes they may be killed, when their Affairs require it should be so. But most commonly 'tis to engage two men in a Quarrel, that they may have the Credit of being fought for; and if the Lover's killed in the business, they cry, Poor Fellow! he had ill Luck.— And so they go to Cards.  Const. 
Thy Injuries to Women are not to be fo●rgiven. Look to't if ever thou dost fall into their hands—  Heartfr. 
They can't use me worse than they do you, that speak well of 'em.  
Coelo! here comes the Knight.  Enter Sir John Brute. Heartfr. 
Your humble Servant, Sir john.  Sir J. 
Servant, Sir.  Heartfr. 
How does all your Family?  Sir J. 
Pox o' my Family.  Const. 
How does your Lady? I han't seen her abroad a good while.  Sir J. 
Do! I don't know how she does, not I; she was well enough yesterday: I ha'n't been at home to night.  Const. 
What! were you out of Town!  Sir J. 
Out of Town! no, I was drinking.  Const. 
You are a true Englishman; Don't know your own Happiness? if I were married to such a Woman, I would not be from her a Night for all the Wine in France.  Sir J. 
Not from her!— Oons,— what a time should a man have of that!  Heartfr. 
Why, there's no Division, I hope?  Sir J. 
No; but there's a Conjunction, and that's worse; a Pox o' the Parson.— Why the plague don't you two marry? I fancy I look like the Devil to you.  Heartfr. 
Why, you don't think you have Horns, do you?  Sir J. 
No; I believe my Wife's Religion will keep her honest.  Heartfr 
And what will make her keep her Religion?  Sir J. 
Persecution; and therefore she shall have it.  Heartfr. 
Have a care Knight, Women are tender things.  Sir J. 
And yet, methinks, 'tis a hard matter to break their Hearts.  Const. 
Fie, fie; you have one of the best Wives in the World, and yet you seem the most uneasy Husband.  Sir J. 
Best Wives!— the Woman's well enough, she has no Vice that I know of, but she's a Wife, and— damn a Wife; if I were married to a Hogshead of Claret, Matrimony would make me hate it.  Heartfr. 
Why did you marry then? you were old enough to know your own mind.  Sir J. 
Why did I marry! I married because I had a mind to lie with her, and she would not let me.  Heartfr. 
Why did not you ravish her?  Sir J. 
Yes, and so have hedged myself into forty Quarrels with her Relations, besides buying my Pardon: But more than a● that, you must know, I was afraid of being damned in those days, for I kept sneaking cowardly Company, Fellows that went to Church, said Grace to their Meat, and had not the least Tincture of Quality about 'em.  Heartfr. 
But I think you are got into a better Gang now.  Sir J. 
Zounds, Sir, my Lord Rake and I are Hand and Glove, I believe we may get our Bones broke together to night; Have you a mind to share a Frolic?  Const. 
Not I truly, my Talon lies to softer Exercises.  Sir J. 
What? a Doune-bed and a Strumpet?  
A Pox of Venery, I say.  
Will you come and drink with me this Afternoon?  Const. 
I can't drink to day, but we'll come and sit an hour with you if you will.  Sir J. 
Phugh, Pox, sit an hour!  
Why can't you drink?  Const. 
Because I'm to see my Mistress.  Sir J. 
Who's that?  Const. 
Why, do you use to tell?  Sir J. 
Yes.  Const. 
So won't I.  Sir J. 
Why?  Const. 
Because 'tis 'a Secret.  Sir J. 
Would my Wife knew it, 'twould be no Secret long.  Const. 
Why, do you think she can't keep a Secret?  Sir J. 
No more than she can keep Lent.  Heartfr. 
Prithee tell it her to try, Constant.  Sir J. 
No, prithee don't, that I mayn't be plagued with it.  Const. 
I'll hold you a Guinea you don't make her tell it you:  Sir J. 
I'll hold you a Guinea I do.  Const. 
Which way?  Sir joh. 
Why I'll beg her not to tell it me.  Heartfr. 
Nay, if any thing does it, that will.  Con. 
But do you think, Sir?—  Sir joh. 
Oons, Sir, I think a Woman and a Secret, are the two impertinentest Themes in the Universe. Therefore pray let's hear no more, of my Wife nor your Mistress. Damn 'em both with all my Heart, and every thing else that Daggles a Petticoat, except four Generous Whores, with Betty Sands at the head of 'em, who were drunk with my Lord Rake and I, ten times in a Fortnight. Exit Sir John.  Con. 
Here's a dainty fellow for you. And the veriest Coward too. But his usage of his Wife makes me ready to stab the Villain.  Heartfr. 
Lovers are short sighted: All their Senses run into that of feeling. This proceeding of his is the only thing on Earth can make your Fortune. If any thing can prevail with her to accept of a Gallant 'tis his ill usage of her; for Women will do more for revenge than they'll do four the Gospel.  
Prithee take heart, I have great hopes for you, and since I can't bring you quite off of her, I'll endeavour to bring you quite on; for a whining Lover, is the damn'd'st Companion upon Earth.  Cor. 
My Dear Friend, flatter me a little more with these hopes: for whilst they prevail I have Heaven within me, and could melt with joy.  Heart. 
Pray no melting yet: let things go farther first. This afternoon perhaps we shall make some advance. In the mean while, let's go Dine at Locket's, and let hope get you a Stomach. Exeunt▪  SCENE▪ Lady Fancyful's House. Enter Lady fanciful and Mademoiselle. Lady F. 
Did you ever see any thing so Importune, Mademoiselle?  Madam. 
Inteed Matam, to say de trute, he want little good breeding.  Lady F. 
Good breeding? He wants to be cained, Mademoiselle: an Insolent Fellow.  
And yet let me expose my Weakness, 'tis the only Man on earth I could resolve to dispense my Favours on, were he but a fine Gentleman. Well; did Men but know how deep an Impression a fine Gentleman makes in a Lady's heart, they would reduce all their studies to that of good breeding alone.  Enter Cornet. Cor. 
Madam here's Mr. Treble. He has brought home the Verses your Ladyship made, and gave him to set.  Lady F. 
O let him come in by all means.  
Now, Mademoiselle, am I going to be unspeakably happy.  Enter Treble. 
So Mr. Treble, you have set my little Dialogue?  Treb. 
Yes, Madam, and I hope your Ladyship will be pleased with it.  Lady F. 
O, no doubt on't; for really Mr. Treble, you set all things to a Wonder: But your Music is in particular Heavenly, when you have my words to clothe in't.  Treb. 
Your words themselves, Madam, have so much Music in 'em they inspire me.  Lady F. 
Nay, now you make me blush, Mr. Treble; but pray let's hear what you have done.  Treb. 
You shall, Madam.  

A Song to be Sung between a Man and a Woman.  M. 
AH Lovely Nymph, the world 's on Fire:  
Viel, Veil those cruel Eyes.  W. 
The World may then in Flames expire,  
And boast that so it Dies.  M. 
But when all Mortals are destroyed,  
Who then shall Sing your Praise?  W. 
Those who are fit to be employed:  
The Gods shall Altars raise.   Treb. 
How does your Ladship like it, Madam?  Lady F. 
Rapture, Rapture, Mr. Treble, I'm all Rapture. O Wit and Art, what power you have when joined. I must needs tell you the Birth of this Little Dialogue, Mr. Treble. It's Father was a Dream, and its Mother was the Moon. I dreamed, that by an unanimous Vote, I was chosen Queen of that Pale World. And that the first time I appeared upon my Throne,— all my Subjects fell in Love with me. Just than I waked: and seeing Pen, Ink and Paper lie idle upon the Table, I slid into my Morning Gown, and writ this in promptu.  Treb. 
So I guess the Dialogue, Madam, is supposed to be between your Majesty and your first Minister of State.  Lady F. 
Just: he as Minister advises me to trouble my head about the welfare of my Subjects; which I as Sovereign, find a very impertinent proposal. But is the Town so Dull, Mr. Treble, it affords us never another New Song?  Treb. 
Madam, I have one in my Pocket, came out but yesterday, if your Ladyship pleases to let Mrs. Pipe Sing it.  Lady F. 
By all means. Here Pipe. Make what Music you can of this Song, here.  

SONG.  

NOT an Angel dwells above  
Half so fair as her I Love:  
Heaven knows how she'll receive me:  
If she smiles, I'm blessed indeed  
If she frowns, I'm quickly freed;  
Heaven knows, she ne'er can grieve me.   

II.  
None can Love her more than I,  
Yet she ne'er shall make me die.  
If my flame can never warm her;  
Lasting Beauty, I'll adore,  
I shall never Love her more,  
Cruelty will so deform her.    Lady F. 
Very well: This is Heartfree's Poetry without question.  Treb. 
Won't your Ladyship please to sing yourself this morning?  Lady F. 
O Lord, Mr. Treble, my cold is still so Barbarous, to refuse me that pleasure; He he hem.  Treb. 
I'm very sorry for it, Madam: Methinks all Mankind should turn Physicians for the Cure on't.  Lady F. 
Why truly to give mankind their due; There's few that know me, but have offered their Remedy.  Treb. 
They have reason, Madam, for I know no body Sings so near a Cherubin as your Ladyship.  Lady F. 
What I do I owe chiefly to your skill and care, Mr. Treble. People do better me indeed, that I have a voice and a je ne scai quoy in the Conduct of it, that will make Music of any thing. And truly I begin to believe so, since what happened t'other night: would you think it, Mr. Treble; walking pretty late in the Park, (for I often walk late in the Park, Mr. Treble;) A whim took me to sing Chivy-Chase, and would you believe it? Next morning I had three Copies of Verses, and six Billet-doux at my Levee upon it.  Treb. 
And without all dispute you deserved as many more, Madam, are there any further Commands for your Ladyship's humble Servant?  Lady F. 
Nothing more at this time, Mr. Treble. But I shall expect you here every morning for this Month, to sing my little matter there to me. I'll reward you for your pains.  Treb. 
O Lord, Madam—  Lady F. 
Good morrow, sweet Mr. Treble.  Treb. 
Your Ladyship's most obedient Servant. Exit Treb.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Will your Ladyship please to dine yet? Exit. Seru.  Lady F. 
Yes: let 'em serve.  
Sure this Heartfree has bewitched me, Mademoiselle.  
You can't imagine how oddly he mixed himself in my thoughts during my Rapture e'en now. I vow 'tis a thousand pities he is not more polished. Don't you think so?  Madam. 
Matam. I tink it so great pity, dat if I was in your Ladyship place, I take him home in my House, I lock him up in my Closet, and I never let him go till I teach him every ting dat fine Laty expect from fine Gentleman.  Lady F. 
Why truly I believe, I should soon subdue his Brutality; for without doubt, he has a strange penchant to grow fond of me, in spite of his Aversion to the Sex, else he would ne'er have taken so much pains about me. Lord how proud would some poor Creatures be of such a Conquest? But I alas, I don't know how to receive as a favour, what I take to be so infinitely my due But what shall I do to new mould him, Madamoiselle? for till then he's my utter aversion.  Madam. 
Matam, you must laugh at him in all the place dat you meet him, and turn into the ridicule all he say and all he do.  Lady F. 
Why truly satire has been ever of wondrous use, to reform ill manners. Besides 'tis my particular Talon to ridicule folks. I can be severe; strangely severe, when I will, Mademoiselle.— Give me the Pen and Ink:— I find myself whimsical— I'll write to him.  
— or I ll let it alone, and be severe upon him that way. Sitting down to write. Rising up again.  
— Yet active severity is better than passive. Sitting down.  
— 'Tis as good let alone too, for every lash I give him, perhaps he'll take for a favour. Rising  
— Yet 'tis a thousand pities so much Sitting.  
— satire should be lost. Sitting.  
— But if it should have a wrong effect upon him 'twould distract me. Rising.  
— Well I must write tho' after all. Sitting.  
— Or I'll let it alone which is the same thing. Rising.  Madam. 
La Voilá determinée. Exeunt.  
The End of the Second Act.   

ACT the Third.  SCENE Opens. Sir john, Lady Brute and Bellinda rising from the Table. Sir I. 
HEre; take away the things: I expect Company. But first bring me a Pipe; I'll smoke. to a Servant.  Lady B. 
Lord, Sir john, I wonder you won't leave that nasty Custom.  Sir I. 
Prithee don't be Impertinent.  Bel. 
to Lady. I wonder who those are he expects this afternoon.  Lady B. 
I'd give the World to know: Perhaps 'tis Constant; he comes here sometimes; If it does prove him, I'm resolved I'll share the visit.  Bel. 
We'll send for our Work and sit here.  Lady B 
He'll choke us with his Tobacco.  Bel. 
Nothing will choke us, when we are doing what we have a mind to. Lovewell  Enter Lovewell. Love. 
Madam.  Lady B. 
Here; bring my Cousin's work and mine hither  Exit Love. and Reenters with their Work. Sir I. 
Whu; Pox, can't you work somewhere else?  〈◊〉 
We shall be careful not to disturb you, Sir.  Bel. 
Your Pipe would make you too thoughtful, Uncle, if you were left alone; Our prittle prattle will Cure your Spleen.  Sir I. 
Will it so, Mrs. Pert? Now I believe it will so increase it sitting and smoking. I shall take my own House for a Papermill.  Lady B. 
to Bel. aside Don't let's mind him; let him say what he will.  Sir I. 
A Woman's Tongue a cure for the Spleen— Oons— aside. If a Man had got the Headache, they'd be for applying the same Remedy.  Lady B. 
You have done a great deal Bellinda since yesterday.  Bel. 
Yes, I have worked very hard; how do you like it?  Lady B. 
O 'tis the prettiest Fringe in the World. Well Cousin you have the happiest fancy. Prithee advice me about altering my Crimson Petticoat.  Sir I. 
A Pox o' your Petticoat; here's such a prating a man can't digest his own thoughts for you.  Lady B. 
Don't answer him. Aside  
Well, what do you advise me?  Bel. 
Why really I would not alter it at all.  
Methinks 'tis very pretty as it is.  Lady B. 
Ay that's true: But you know one grows weary of the prettiest things in the world, when one has had 'em long.  Sir I. 
Yes, I have taught her that.  Bel. 
Shall we provoke him a little?  Lady B. 
With all my heart.  
Bellinda, don't you long to be Married?  Bel. 
Why there are some things in't I could like well enough.  Lady B. 
What do you think you should dislike?  Bel. 
My Husband a hundred to one else.  Lady B. 
O ye wicked wretch: Sure you don't speak as you think.  Bel. 
Yes I do: Especially if he smoked Tobacco. He looks earnestly at 'em.  Lady B. 
Why that many times takes off worse smells.  Bel. 
Then he must smell very ill indeed.  Lady B. 
So some Men will, to keep their Wives from coming near 'em.  Bel. 
Then those Wives should Cuckold 'em at a Distance.  He rises in a fury, throws his Pipe at 'em and drives 'em out. As they run off, Constant and Heartfree enter. Lady B. runs against Constant. Sir I. 
Oons get you gone up stairs you confederating Strumpets you, or I'll Cuckold you with a Vengeance.  Lady B. 
O Lord he'll beat us, he'll beat us. Dear, Dear Mr. Constant save us. Exeunt.  Sir I. 
I'll Cuckold you with a Pox.  Const. 
Heavens, Sir john, what's the matter?  Sir I. 
Sure if Woman had been ready created, the Devil, instead of being kicked down into Hell, had been Married.  Heart. 
Why what new plague have you found now?  Sir I. 
Why these two Gentlewomen did but hear me say, I expected you here this afternoon; upon which, they presently resolved to take up the Roon, o' purpose to plague me and my Friends.  Const. 
Was that all? why we should have been glad of their Company.  Sir I. 
Then I should have been weary of yours. For I can't relish both together. They found fault with my smoking Tobacco too; and said Men stunk. But I have a good mind— to say something.  Const. 
No, nothing against the Ladies pray.  Sir I. 
Split the Ladies. Come, will you sit down? Give us some Wine, Fellow:  
You won't smoke?  Const. 
No nor drink neither at this time, I must ask your pardon.  Sir I. 
What, this Mistress of yours runs in your head; I'll warrant it's some such squeamish Minx as my Wife, that's grown so dainty of late, she finds fault even with a Dirty shirt.  Heart. 
That a woman may do, and not be very dainty neither.  Sir I. 
Pox o' the women, let's drink. Come, you shall take one Glass, tho' I send for a Box of Lozenges to sweeten your mouth after it.  Const. 
Nay if one Glass will satisfy you I'll drink it without putting you to that expense.  Sir I. 
Why that's honest. Fill some Wine, Sirrah: So, Here's to you Gentlemen— A Wife's the Devil. To your being both married They drink  Heart. 
O your most humble Servant, Sir.  Sir I. 
Well? how do you like my Wine?  Const. 
'Tis very good indeed.  Heart. 
'Tis Admirable.  Sir I. 
Then give us t'other Glass.  Const. 
No, pray excuse us now. we'll come another time, and then we won't spare it.  Sir I. 
This one Glass and no more. Come: It shall be your mistress's health: And that's a great Compliment from me, I assure you.  Const. 
And 'tis a very obliging one to me: So give us the Glasses.  Sir I. 
So: Let her live. Sir John Coughs in the Glass.  Heart. 
And be kind.  Const. 
What's the matter? does't go the wrong way?  Sir I. 
If I had love enough to be jealous, I should take this for an ill Omen. For I never drank my Wives health in my life, but I puked in the Glass.  Const. 
O she's too Virtuous to make a Reasonable man jealous.  Sir I. 
Pox of her Virtue. If I could but catch her Adulterating I might be divorced from her by Law.  Heart. 
And so pay her a yearly Pension, to be a distinguished Cuckold.  Enter Servant. 
Sir, There's my Lord Rake, Colonel Bully, and some other Gentlemen at the Blew-Posts, desire your Company.  Sir I. 
Cod's so, we are to Consult about playing the Devil to night.  Heart. 
Well we won't hinder business.  Sir I. 
Methinks I don't know how to leave you tho'. But for once I must make bold- Or look you: may be the Conference mayn't last long; so if you'll wait here half an hour, or an hour; if I don't come then,— why then— I won't come at all.  Heart. 
to Const. A good modest proposition truly: Aside.  Const. 
But let's accept on't however. Who knows what may happen.  Heart. 
Well Sir, to show you how fond we are of your Company we'll expect your return as long as we can.  Sir I. 
Nay, may be I mayn't stay at all: But business you know must be done. So your Servant— Or hark you: If you have a mind to take a frisk with us, I have an interest with my Lord, I can easily introduce you.  Const. 
We are much beholding to you, but for my part I'm engaged another way.  Sir I. 
What? To your Mistress I'll warrant. Prithee leave your nasty Punk to entertain herself with her own Lewd thoughts, and make one with us to Night.  Const. 
Sir, 'tis business that is to employ me.  Heart. 
And me; and business must be done you know.  Sir I. 
Ay; Woman's business, tho' the world were consumed for't.  Exit. Sir I. Const. 
Farewell Beast: And now my Dear Friend, would my Mistress be but as Complaisant as some men's Wives, who think it a piece of good breeding to receive the visits of their Husband's Friends in his absence.  Heart. 
Why for your sake I could forgive her, tho' she should be so Complaisant to receive something else in his absence. But what way shall we invent to see her.  Const. 
O ne'er hope it: Invention will prove as Vain as Wishes.  Enter Lady Brute and Bellinda. Heart. 
What do you think now, Friend?  Const. 
I think I shall swoon.  Heart. 
I'll speak first then, whilst you fetch breath.  Lady B. 
We think ourselves obliged Gentlemen, to come and return you thanks for your Knight Errantry. We were just upon being devoured by the Fiery Dragon.  Bell. 
Did not his fumes almost knock you down, Gentlemen?  Heart. 
Truly Ladies, we did undergo some hardships, and should have done more, if some greater Hero's than ourselves hard by had not diverted him.  Const. 
Tho' I'm glad of the Service, you are pleased to say we have done you; yet I'm sorry we could do it no other way, than by making ourselves privy, to what you would perhaps have kept a secret.  Lady B. 
For Sir John's part, I suppose be designed it no secret since he made so much noise. And for myself, truly I am not much concerned, since 'tis fallen only into this▪ Gentleman's hands and yours; who I have many reasons to believe, will neither interpret nor report any thing to my disadvantage.  Const. 
Your good opinion, Madam, was what I feared, I never could have merited.  Lady B. 
Your fears were vain then, Sir, for I am just to every body.  Heart. 
Prithee, Constant, what is't you do to get the Ladies good Opinions; for I'm a Novice at it?  Bell. 
Sir, will you give me leave to instruct you?  Heartfr. 
Yes, that I will with all my Soul, Madam.  ●ell. 
Why then you must never be slovenly, never be out of humour, fare well and cry Roast-meat; smoke Tobacco, nor drink but when you are a-dry.  Heartfr. 
That's hard.  Const. 
Nay, if you take his Bottle from him, you break his Heart, Madam.  Bell. 
Why, is it possible the Gentleman can love Drinking?  Heartfr. 
Only by way of Antidote.  Bell. 
Against what, pray?  Heartfr. 
Against Love, Madam?  Lady Br. 
Are you afraid of being in Love, Sir?  Heartfr. 
I should, if there were any danger of it.  Lady Br. 
Pray why so?  Heartfr. 
Because I always had an aversion to being used like a Dog.  Bell. 
Why truly, men in love are seldom used better.  Lady Br. 
But was you never in love, Sir?  Heartfr. 
No, I thank Heaven, Madam.  Bell. 
Pray where got you your Learning then?  Heartfr. 
From other People's Expense.  Bell. 
That's being a Spunger, Sir, which is scarce honest; if you'd buy some Experience with your own Money, as 'twould be fairlyer got, so 'twould stick longer by you.  Enter Footman Footm. 
Madam, here's my Lady Fanciful, to wait upon your Ladyship.  Lady Br. 
Shield me, kind Heaven, what an inundation of Impertinence is here coming upon us!  Enter Lady Fanciful, who runs first to Lady Brute, then to Bellinda, kissing 'em. Lady Fanc. 
My dear Lady Brute, and sweet Bellinda! methinks 'tis an Age since I saw you.  Lady Br. 
Yet 'tis but three days; sure you have passed your time very ill, it seems so long to you.  Lady Fanc. 
Why really, to confess the Truth to you, I am so everlastingly fatigu'd with the Addresses of Unfortunate Gentlemen, that were it not for the extravagancy of the Example, I should e'en tear out these wicked Eyes with my own Fingers, to make both myself and Mankind easy. What think you on't, Mr. Heartfree, for I take you to be my faithful Adviser?  Heartfr. 
Why truly, Madam,— I think— every Project that is for the Good of Mankind, aught to be encouraged.  Lady Fanc. 
Then I have your Consent, Sir.  Heartfr. 
To do whatever you please, Madam.  Lady Fanc. 
You had a much-more limited Complaisance this Morning, Sir. Would you believe it, Ladies? The Gentleman has been so exceeding generous, to tell me of above fifty Faults, in less time than it was well possible for me to commit two of 'em.  Const. 
Why truly, Madam, my Friend there is apt to be something familiar with the Ladies.  Lady Fanc. 
He is indeed, Sir; but he's wondrous charitable with it; he has had the Goodness to design a Reformation, even down to my Finger's ends.  
'Twas thus, I think, Sir, you would have Opening her Fingers in an awkward manner. had 'em stand.— My Eyes too he did not like: How was't you would have directed 'em? Thus, I think. Staring at him. Then there was something amiss in my Gate too, I don't know well how 'twas; but as I take it, he would have had me walk like him. Pray, Sir, do me the Favour to take a turn or two about the Room, that the Company may see you.— He's sullen, Ladies, and wont: But, to make short, and give you as true an Idea as I can of the matter, I think 'twas much about this Figure in general, he would have moulded me to: But I was an obstinate She walks aukwardly about, having and looking ungainly, when changes on a sadden to the extremity of her usual Affectation. Woman, and could not resolve to make myself Mistress of his Heart, by growing as awkward as his Fancy.  Heartfr. 
Just thus Women do, when Here Constant and Lady Brute talk together apart. they think we are in love with 'em, or when they are so with us.  Lady Fanc. 
'Twould however be less Vanity for me to conclude the former, than you the latter, Sir.  Heartfr. 
Madam, all I shall presume to conclude, is, That if I were in Love, you'd find the means to make me soon weary on it.  Lady Fanc. 
Not by overfondness, upon my word, Sir. But pray let●s stop here, for you are so much governed by Instinct, I know you'll grow brutish at last.  Bell. 
(aside) Now am I sure she's fond of him: I'll try to make her jealous.  
Well, for my part, I should be glad to find somebody would be so free with me, that I might know my Faults, and mend 'em.  Lady Fanc. 
Then pray let me recommend this Gentleman to you: I have known him some time, and will be Surety for him, That upon a very limited Encouragement on your side, you shall find an extended Impudence on his.  Heart. 
I thank you Madam, for your recommendation; But hating idleness, I'm unwilling to enter into a place where I believe there would be nothing to do. I was fond of serving your Ladyship, because I knew you'd find me constant employment.  Lady Fanc. 
I told you he'd be rude, Bellinda.  Bell. 
O, a little Bluntness is a sign of honesty, which makes me always ready to pardon it. So, Sir, if you have no other exceptions to my service, but the fear of being idle in't, You may venture to list yourself: I shall find you work I warrant you.  Heartfr. 
Upon those terms I engage, Madam, and this (with your leave) I take for earnest. Offering to kiss her hand.  Bell. 
Hold there, Sir, I'm none of your earnest givers. But if I'm well served, I give good wages and pay punctually. Heart. and Bell. seem to continue talking familiarly.  Lady Fanc. 
(Aside) I done't like this jesting between 'em— methinks the Fool begins to look as if he were in earnest— but then he must be a Fool indeed.  
— Lord what a difference there is between me and her. Looking at Bel. scornfully. How I should despise such a thing if I were a man.— What a Nose she has— What a Chin— What a Neck— Then her Eyes— And the worst Kissing Lips in the Universe— No no, he can never like her that's positive— Yet I can't suffer 'em together any longer.  
Mr. Heartfree, do you know that you and I must have no Quarrel for all this. I can't forbear being a little severe now and then: But Women you know may be allowed any thing.  Heartfr. 
Up to a certain age, Madam.  Lady Fanc. 
Which I am not yet past I hope.  Heartfr. 
(Aside) Nor never will, I dare swear.  Lady Fan. 
to Lady B. Come Madam; Will your Ladyship be witness to our Reconciliation?  Lady B. 
You agree then at last.  Heartfr. 
(slightingly) We forgive.  Lady Fanc. 
(Aside) That was a cold ill-natured reply.  Lady B. 
Then there's no Challenges sent between you?  Heartfr. 
Not from me I promise. (Aside to Constant) But that's more than I'll do for her, for I know she can as well be damned as forbear writing to me.  Const. 
That I believe. But I think we had best be going lest she should suspect something, and be maliciou.  Heartfr. 
With all my my heart.  Const. 
Ladies we are your humble Servants. I see Sir john is quite engaged, 'twould be in vain to expect him. Come Heartfree Exit.  Heartfr. 
Ladies your Servant. (to Bellinda) I hope Madam you won't forget our Bargain; I'm to say what I please to you  Exit Heartfree. Bel. 
Liberty of Speech entire, Sir.  Lady Fanc. 
(Aside) Very pretty truly— But how the Block head went out: Languishing at her; and not a look toward me. Well; Churchmen may talk, but Miracles are not ceased. For 'tis more than natural, such a Rude fellow as he, and such a little impertinent as she, should be capable of making a Woman of my sphere uneasy.  
But I can bear her sight no longer— methinks she's grown ten times uglier than Cornet.  
I must go home, and study revenge.  
(To Lady B.) Madam your humble Servant, I must take my leave.  Lady B. 
What going already Madam?  Lady Fanc. 
I must beg you'll excuse me this once. For really I have eighteen visits to return this afternoon so you see I'm importuned by the Women as well as the Men.  Bel. 
(Aside.) And she's quits with 'em both.  
(Lady Fanc. going.) Nay you sha'n't go one step out of the room.  Lady B. 
Indeed I'll wait upon you down.  Lady Fanc. 
No, sweet Lady Brute; you know I swoon at Ceremony.  Lady B. 
Pray give me leave.  Lady Fanc. 
You know I won't.  Lady B. 
Indeed I must.  Lady Fanc. 
Indeed you sha'n't.  Lady B. 
Indeed I will.  Lady Fanc. 
Indeed you sha'n't.  Lady B. 
Indeed I will.  Lady Fanc. 
Indeed you sha'n't. Indeed Indeed Indeed you sha'n't.  Exit Lady Fanc. running. They follow. Re-enter Lady Brute, sola. 
This impertinent Woman, has put me out of humour for a Fortnight.— What an agreeable moment has her foolish visit interrupted— Lord how like a Torrent Love flows into the Heart when once the sluice of desire is opened! Good Gods what a pleasure there is in doing what we should not do!  Re-enter Constant. 
Ha! here again?  Const. 
Tho' the renewing my visit may seem a little irregular, I hope I shall obtain your pardon for it, Madam, when you know I only left the Room, lest the Lady who was here should have been as malicious in her Remarks, as she's foolish in her Conduct.  Lady B. 
He who has discretion enough to be tender of a Woman's Reputation, carries a Virtue about him may atone for a great many faults.  Const. 
If it has a Title to atone for any, its pretensions must needs be strongest, where the Crime is Love. I therefore hope I shall be forgiven the attempt I have made upon your Heart, since my Enterrprize has been a secret to all the World but yourself.  Lady B. 
Secrecy indeed in sins of this kind, is an Argument of weight to lessen the Punishment; but nothing's a Plea, for a Pardon entire, without a sincere Repentance.  Const. 
If Sincerity in Repentance, consist in sorrow for offending: No Cloister ever enclosed, so true a Penitent as I should be. But I hope it cannot be reckoned an offence to Love, where 'tis a duty to adore.  Lady B. 
'Tis an offence, a great one, where it would rob a Woman of all she ought to be adored for; her Virtue.  Const. 
Virtue?— Virtue alas is no more like the thing that's called so, than 'tis like Vice itself. Virtue consists in Goodness, Honour, Gratitude, Sincerity and Pity; and not in Peevish, snarling streightlaced Chastity. True Virtue whereso'e'er it moves, still carries an intrinsique worth about it, and is in every place, and in each Sex of equal value. So is not Continence you see: That Phantom of Honour, which men in every Age have so contemned, they have thrown it amongst the Women to scrable for.  Lady B. 
If it be a thing of so very little Value; Why do you so earnestly recommend it to your Wives and Daughters?  Const. 
We recommend it to our Wives, Madam, because we would keep 'em to ourselves. And to our Daughters, because we would dispose of 'em to others.  Lady B. 
'Tis then of some Importance it seems, since you can't dispose of 'em without it.  Const. 
That importance, Madam, lies in the humour of the Country, not in the nature of the thing.  Lady B. 
How do you prove that, Sir?  Const. 
From the Wisdom of a neighbouring Nation in a Contrary Practice. In Monarchies things go by Whimsy, but Commonwealth's weigh all things in the Scale of Reason.  Lady B. 
I hope we are not so very light a People to bring up fashions without some Ground.  Const. 
Pray what does your Ladyship think of a powdered Coat 〈◊〉 Dee● Mourning▪  Lady B. 
I think, Sir, your Sophistry has all the effect that you can reasonably expect it should have: it puzzles, but don't convince  Const. 
I'm sorry for it.  Lady B. 
I'm sorry to hear you say so.  Const. 
Pray why?  Lady B. 
Because if you expected more from it, you have a worse opinion of my understanding than I desire you should have.  Const. 
aside. I comprehend her: She would have me set a value upon her Chastity, that I may think myself the more obliged to her, when she makes me a present of it.  
To her. I beg you will believe I did but rally, Madam, I know you judge too well of Right and Wrong, to be deceived by Arguments like those. I hope you'll have so favourable an opinion of my Understanding too, to believe the thing called Virtue has worth enough with me, to pass for an eternal Obligation wherever 'tis sacrificed.  Lady B. 
It is I think so great a one, as nothing can repay.  Const. 
Yes; the making the man you love your everlasting Debtor.  Lady B. 
When Debtors once have borrowed all we have to lend, they are very apt to grow very shy of their Creditors Company.  Const. 
That, Madam, is only when they are forced to borrow of Usurers, and not of a Generous Friend. Let us choose our Creditors, and we are seldom so ungrateful to shun 'em.  Lady B. 
What think you of Sir john, Sir? I was his free choice.  Const. 
I think he's married, Madam.  Lady B. 
Does Marriage then exclude men from your Rule of Constancy.  Const. 
It does. Constancy's a Brave, free, haughty, generous Agent, that cannot buckle to the Chains of Wedlock. There's a poor sordid slavery in Marriage, that turns the slowing Tide of Honour, and sinks us to the lowest ebb of Infamy. 'Tis a corrupted Soil; I'll Nature, Avarice, Sloth, Cowardice and Dirt, are all its product.  Lady B. 
Have you no exceptions to this General Rule▪ as well as to tother?  Const. 
Yes: I would (after all) be an exception to it myself if you were free, in Power and Will to make me so.  Lady B. 
Compliments are well placed, where 'tis impossible to lay hold on 'em.  Const. 
I would to Heaven 'twere possible for you to lay hold on mine, that you might see it is no Compliment at all. But since you are already disposed on beyond Redemption, to one who ●os not know the value of the Jewel you have put into his hands: I hope you would not think him greatly wronged, tho' it should sometimes be looked on by a Friend, who knows how to esteem it as he ought.  Lady B. 
If looking on't alone would serve his turn, the wrong perhaps might not be very great.  Const. 
Why, what if he should wear it now and then a day, so he gave good Security to bring it home again at night?  Lady B. 
Small Security I fancy might serve for that. One might venture to take his word.  Const. 
Then where's the injury to the Owner?  Lady B. 
'Tis an injury to him, if he think it one. For if Happiness be seated in the Mind, Unhappiness must be so too.  Const. 
Here I close with you, Madam, and draw my conclusive Argument from your own Position: If the injury lie in the fancy, there needs nothing but Secrecy to prevent the Wrong.  Lady B. 
going, A surer way to prevent it, is to hear no more Arguments in its behalf.  Const. 
following her. But, Madam—  Lady B. 
But, Sir, 'tis my turn to be discreet now, and not suffer too long a Visit.  Const. 
catching her Hand. By Heaven you shall not stir, till you give me hopes that I shall see you again, at some more convenient Time and Place.  Lady B. 
I give you just Hopes enough— (breaking from him) To get loose from you: And that's all I can afford you at this time.  Exit running. Constant Solus. 
Now by all that's Great and Good, she is a charming Woman. In what Ecstasy of Joy she has left me. For she gave me Hope; Did she not say she gave me Hope? Hope? Ay; what Hope?— enough to make me let her go— Why that's enough in Conscience. Or no matter how 'twas spoke; Hope was the word: It came from her, and it was said to me.  Enter Heartfree. 
Ha, Heartfree: Thou hast done me Noble Service in prattling to the young Gentlewoman without there; come to my Arms, Thou Venerable Bawd, and let me squeeze thee (Embracing him eagerly) as a new pair of stays does a Fat Country Girl, when she's carried to Court to stand for a Maid of Honour.  Heart. 
Why what the Devil's all this Rapture for?  Const. 
Rapture? There's ground for Rapture, man, there's hopes, 〈…〉, hopes, my Friend.  Heart. 
Hope's? of what?  Const. 
Why hopes that my Lady and I together, (for 'tis more than one bodies work) should make Sir john a Cuckold.  Heart. 
Prithee what did she say to thee?  Const. 
Say? what did she not say? she said that— says she— she said— Zounds I don't know what she said: But she looked as if she said every thing I'd have her, and so if thou'lt go to the Tavern, I'll treat thee with any thing that Gold can buy; I'll give all my Silver amongst the Drawers, make a Bonfire before the Door, say the Plenipo's, have signed the Peace, and the Bank of England is grown honest. Exeunt.  SCENE opens. Lord Rake, Sir john, etc. at a Table drinking. All. 
Huzza.  Lord R. 
Come Boys. Charge again.— So— Confusion to all order. Here's Liberty of Conscience.  All. 
Huzza.  Lord R. 
I'll Sing you a Song I made this morning to this purpose.  Sir I. 
'Tis wicked I hope.  Col. B. 
Don't my Lord tell you he made it?  Sir I. 
Well then let's have't.  

Lord R. Sings.  

I.  
WHat a Pother of Late  
Have they kept in the State  
About setting our Consciences free  
A Bottle has more  
Dispensation in Store,  
Than the King and the State can decree.   

II.  
When my Head's full of Wine,  
I o'er flow with Design  
And know no penal Laws that can curb me.  
What e'er I devise,  
Seems good in my Eyes,  
And Religion ne'er dares to disturb me   

III.  
No saucy remorse  
Intrudes in my Course,  
Nor Impertinent notions of Evil▪  
So there's Claret in store,  
In Peace I've my Whore,  
And in Peace I jog on to the Devil.   

All Sing. So there's Claret, etc.   

Lord R. (Rep.) And in Peace I jog on to the Devil.    Lord R. 
Well, how do you like it, Gentlemen?  All. 
O, Admirable.  Sir I. 
I would not give a fig for a Song, that is not full of Sin and Impudence.  Lord R. 
Then my Muse is to your taste.  
But drink away; The Night steals upon us, we shall want time to be Lewd in. hay Page, sally out, Sirrah, and see what's doing in the Camp, we'll beat up their Quarters presently.  Page. 
I'll bring your Lordship an Exact account. Ex. Page.  Lord R. 
Now let the spirit of Clary go round.  
Fill me a Brimmer. Here's to our forlorn-hope.  
Courage Knight; Victory attends you.  Sir I. 
And Laurels shall Crown me. Drink away and be damned  Lord R. 
Again Boys; tother Glass, and damn Morality.  Sir I. 
(drunk) Ay— damn Morality— and damn the Watch. And let the Constable be married.  All. 
Huzza.  Re-enter Page. Lady R. 
How are the Streets inhabited, Sirrah?  Page. 
My Lord it's Sunday night, they are full of Drunken Citizens.  Lord R. 
Along then Boys, we shall have a feast.  Col. B. 
Along Noble Knight.  Sir I. 
Ay— along Bully; and he that says Sir john Brute, is not as Drunk and as Religious, as the Drunkenest Citizen of 'em all— is a liar, and the Son of a Whore.  Col. Bul. 
Why that was bravely spoke, and like a freeborn Englishman.  Sir I. 
What's that to you, Sir, whether I am an English man or a French man?  Col. B. 
Zounds, you are not angry, Sir?  Sir I. 
Zounds I am angry, Sir,— for if I am a Freeborn English man, what have you to do, even to talk of my Privileges.  Lord R. 
Why prithee Knight don't quarrel here, leave private Animosities to be decided by day light, let the night be employed against the public Enemy.  Sir I. 
My Lord I respect you, because you are a man of Quality: But I'll make that fellow know I am within a hairs breadth as absolute by my Priveleges, as the King of France is by his prerogative. He by his prerogative takes money where it is not his due; I, by my Privilege refuse paying it, where I owe it. Liberty and Property and Old England, Huzza. Exit Sir I. reeling, all following him.  All. 
Huzza.  SCENE. A Bedchamber. Enter Lady Brute and Bellinda. Lady B. 
Sure it's late, Bellinda? I begin to be sleepy.  Bell. 
Yes 'tis near twelve. Will you go to Bed?  Lady B. 
To bed my Dear? And by that time I'm fallen into a sweet sleep, (or perhaps a sweet Dream which is better and better) Sir john will come home, roaring drunk, and be overjoyed he finds me in a Condition to be disturbed.  Bell. 
〈◊〉 in need ●●t Fear him, he's in for all night 〈◊〉 The Servant's in he's gone to drink with my Lord Rake?  Lady B. 
Nay 'tis not very likely indeed, such suitable Company should part presently. What Hogs Men turn, Bellinda, when they grow 〈◊〉 or Women.  Bell. 
And what Owls they are whilst they are fond of 'em.  Lady B. 
But that we may forgive well enough, because they are so upon our Accounts.  〈◊〉. 
We ought to do so indeed: But 'tis a hard matter.  
For when a man is really in love he looks so unsufferably silly that though a Woman liked him well enough before, she has then 〈…〉 o, to endure the sight of him. And this I take to be the reason, why Lovers are so generally ill used.  Lady B. 
Well ●own now, I'm well enough pleased to see a man look like an Ass for me.  Bell. 
Ay, I'm pleased he should look like an Ass too— That is I'm pleased with myself for making him look so.  Lady B. 
Nay truly▪ I think it 〈◊〉 find some other way to express his Passion, 'twould be more to his advantage.  Bell. 
Yes; For then a Woman might like his Passion and him too.  Lady B. 
Yet, Bellinda, after all, A Woman's life▪ would be but a dull business, if 'twere not for Men; And Men that can look like ass's too. We should never blame Fate, for the shortness of our days; our time would hang wretchedly upon our hands.  Bel. 
Why truly they do help us off with a good share on't. For were there no Men in the World, O' my Conscience I should be no longer a dressing than I'm a saying my prayers; Nay though it were Sunday: For you know that one may go to Church without Stays on.  Lady B. 
But don't you think Emulation might do something; for every Woman you see desires to be finer than her Neighbour.  Bell. 
That's only that the men may like her better than her Neighbour. No● if there were no men, adieu fine Petticoats, we should be weary of wearing 'em.  Lady B. 
And adieu Plays, we should be weary of seeing 'em.  Bell. 
Adieu Hyde-park, the Dust would Choke us.  Lady B. 
Adieu St. James', Walking would Tire us.  Bell. 
Adieu London, the smoke would stifle us.  Lady B. 
And adieu going to Church, for Religion would ne'er prevail with us.  Both. 
Ha ha ha ha ha  Bell. 
Our Confession is so very hearty, sure we merit Absolution.  Lady B. 
Not unless we go through with't, and confess all. So prithee, for the Ease of our Consciences, let's hide nothing.  Bel. 
Agreed.  Lady B. 
Why then I confess, That I love to sit in the Forefront of a Box. For if one sits behind, there's two Acts gone perhaps, before one's sound out. And when I am there, if I perceive the Men whispering and looking upon me, you must know I cannot for my Life forbear thinking they talk to my Advantage. And that sets a Thousand little tickling Vanities on Foot.—  Bel. 
Just my Case for all the World; but go on.  Lady B. 
I watch with Impatience for the next Jest in the Play, that I may laugh and show my white Teeth. If the Poet has been dull, and the Jest be long a coming, I pretend to whisper one to my Friend, and from thence fall into a little short Discourse, in which I take Occasion to show my Face in all Humours, Brisk, Pleased, Serious, Melancholy, Languishing;— Not that what we say to one another causes any of these Alterations. But—  Bel. 
Don't trouble yourself to explain: For if I'm not mistaken, you and I have had some of these necessary Dialogues before now, with the same Intention.  Lady B. 
Why I'll swear Bellinda, some People do give strange agreeable Airs to their Faces in speaking.  
Tell me true!— Did you never practise in the Glass?  Bel. 
Why, did you?  Lady B. 
Yes Faith, many a time.  Bel. 
And I too, I own it. Both how to speak myself, and how to look when others speak; But my Glass and I could never yet agree what Face I should make, when they come blurt out, with a nasty thing in a Play: For all the Men presently look upon the Women, that's certain; so laugh we must not, though our Stays burst for't, Because that's telling Truth, and owning we understand the Jest. And to look serious is so dull, when the whole House is a laughing.  Lady B. 
Besides, that looking serious, does really betray our Knowledge in the Matter, as much as laughing with the Company would do. For if we did not understand the thing, we should naturally do like other People.  Bel. 
For my part I always take that Occasion to blow my Nose.  Lady B. 
You must blow your Nose half off then at some Plays.  Bel. 
Why don't some Reformer or other, beat the Poet for't?  Lady B. 
Because he is not so sure of our private Approbation as of our public Thanks. Well, sure there is not upon Earth, so impertinent a thing, as womens' Modesty.  Bel. 
Yes; Mens Fantasque, that obliges us to it.  
If we quit our Modesty, they say we lose our Charms, and yet they know that very Modesty is Affectation, and rail at our Hypocrisy.  Lady B. 
Thus one would think, 'twere a hard Matter to please 'em, Niece. Yet our kind Mother Nature has given us something, that makes amends for all. Let our Weakness be what it will, Mankind will still be weaker, and whilst there is a World, 'tis Woman that will govern it.  
But prithee one word of poor Constant before we go to Bed; if it be but to furnish Matter for Dreams; I dare swear he's talking of me now, or thinking of me at least, tho' it be in the middle of his Prayers.  Bel. 
So he ought I think; for you were pleased to make him a good round Advance to day, Madam.  Lady B. 
Why, I have e'en plagued him enough to satisfy any reasonable Woman: He has besieged me these two Years to no Purpose.  Bel. 
And if he besieged you two Years more, he'd be well enough paid, so he had the plundering of you at last.  Lady B. 
That may be; but I'm afraid the Town won't be able to hold out much longer; for to confess the Truth to you, Bellinda, the Garrison begins to grow mutinous.  Bel. 
Then the sooner you capitulate, the better.  Lady B. 
Yet methinks I would fain stay a little longer, to see you fixed too, that we might start together, and see who could love longest. What think you if Heartfree should have a Month's Mind to you?  Bel. 
Why Faith I could almost be in Love with him, for despising that foolish affected Lady fanciful, but I'm afraid he's too cold ever to warm himself by my Fire.  Lady B. 
Then he deserves to be froze to Death. Would I were a Man for your sake, my dear Rogue. Kissing her.  Bel. 
You'd wish yourself a Woman again for your own, or the Men are mistaken.  
But if I could make a Conquest of this Son of Bacchus, and rival his Bottle: What should I do with him, he has no Fortune; I can't marry him; and sure you would not have me commit Fornication.  Lady B. 
Why, if you did, Child, 'twould be but a good friendly part; if 'twere only to keep me in Countenance whilst I commit— You know what.  Bel. 
Well, if I can't resolve to serve you that way, I may perhaps some other, as much to your Satisfaction. But pray how shall we contrive to see these Blades again quickly?  Lady B. 
We must e'en have Recourse to the old way; make 'em an Appointment 'twixt jest and earnest, 'twill look like a Frolic, and that you knows a very good thing to save a Woman's Blushes.  Bel. 
You advise well; but where shall it be?  Lady B. 
In Spring-Garden. But they shan't know their Women, till their Women pull off their Masques; for a Surprise is the most agreeable thing in the World: And I find myself in a very good Humour, ready to do 'em any good turn I can think on.  Bel. 
Then pray write 'em the necessary Billet, without farther Delay.  Lady B. 
Let's go into your Chamber then, and whilst you say your Prayers, I'll do it, Child.  Exeunt. 
The End of the Third ACT.   

ACT IU.  SCENE Covent-Garden. Enter Lord Rake, Sir John, etc. with Swords drawn. Lord R. 
IS the Dog dead?  Bully. 
No, damn him, I heard him wheeze.  Lord R. 
How the Witch his Wife howled!  Bully. 
Ay, she'll alarm the Watch presently.  Lord R. 
Appear, Knight, then; come, you have a good Cause to fight for, there's a Man murdered.  Sir. john. 
Is there? Then let his Ghost be satisfied: For I'll sacrifice a Constable to it presently; and burn his Body upon his wooden Chair.  Enter a Tailor, with a Bundle under his Arm. Bully. 
How now? What have we got here? A Thief?  Taylor. 
No an't please you; I'm no Thief.  Lord R. 
That we'll see presently: Here, let the General examine him.  Sir john. 
Ay, Ay; Let me examine him; and I'll lay a Hundred Pound I find him guilty, in spite of his Teeth— for he looks— like a— sneaking Rascal.  
Come Sirrah, without Equivocation, or mental Reservation, tell me of what Opinion you are, and what Calling; for by them— I shall guests at your Morals.  Taylor. 
An't please you, I'm a Dissenting Journeyman Taylor.  Sir john. 
Then Sirrah, you love Lying by your Religion, and Theft by your Trade. And so, that your Punishment may be suitable to your Crimes,— I'll have you first gagged,— and then hanged.  Taylor. 
Pray good worthy Gentlemen, don't abuse me; indeed I'm an honest Man, and a good Workman, tho' I say it, that should not say it.  Sir john. 
No Words, Sirrah, but attend your Fate.  Lord R. 
Let me see what's in that Bundle.  Taylor. 
An't please you, it's the Doctor of the Parish's Gown.  Lord R. 
The Doctor's Gown!— Hark you, Knight, you won't stick at abusing the Clergy, will you?  Sir john. 
No, I'm drunk, and I'll abuse any thing— but my Wife▪ and her I name— with Reverence.  Lord R. 
Then you shall wear this Gown, whilst you charge the Watch. That tho' the Blows fall upon you, the Scandal may light upon the Church.  Sir john. 
A generous Design— by all the Gods— give it me. Takes the Gown and puts it on.  Taylor. 
O dear Gentlemen, I shall be quite undone, if you take the Gown.  Sir john. 
Retire, Sirrah; and since you carry off your Skin— go home, and be happy.  Taylor. 
[pausing] I think I had e'en as good follow the Gentleman's friendly Advice. For if I dispute any longer, who knows but the whim may take him to Case me. These Courtiers are fuller of Tricks than they are of Money; they'll sooner cut a Man's Throat, than pay his Bill.  Exit Taylor. Sir john. 
So, how d'ye like my Shapes now?  Lord R. 
This Will do to a Miracle; he looks like a Bishop going to the Holy War. But to your Arms, Gentlemen, the Enemy appears.  Enter Constable and Watch. Watchman. 
Stand! Who goes there? Come before the Constable.  Sir john. 
The Constable's a Rascal— and you are the Son of a Whore.  Watchman. 
A good civil Answer for a Parson, truly.  Constable. 
Methinks Sir, a Man of your Coat, might set a better Example.  Sir john. 
Sirrah, I'll make you know— there are Men of my Coat can set as bad Examples— as you can do, you Dog you.  Sir John strikes the Constable. They knock him down, disarm him and seize him. Lord R. etc. run away. Constable. 
So, we have secured the Parson however.  Sir joh. 
Blood and Blood— and Blood.  Watchman. 
Lord have Mercy upon us: How the wicked Wretch Raves of Blood. I'll warrant he has been murdering some body to, Night.  Sir john. 
Sirrah, There's nothing got by Murder but a Halter: My Talon lies towards Drunkenness and Simony.  Watchman. 
Why that now was spoke like a Man of Parts, Neighbours: It's pity he should be so Disguised.  Sir john. 
You Lie,— I am not Disguised; for I am Drunk barefac'd.  Watchman. 
Look you there again,— This is a mad Parson, Mr. Constable; I'll lay a Pot of Ale upon's Head, he's a good Preacher.  Constable. 
Come Sir, out of Respect to your Calling, I shan't put you into the Round-house; but we must Secure you in our Drawing-Room till Morning, that you may do no Mischief. So, Come along.  Sir john. 
You may put me where you will, Sirrah, now you have overcome me;— But if I can't do Mischief, I'll think of Mischief— in spite of your Teeth, you Dog you.  Exeunt: SCENE a Bedchamber. Enter Heartfree, solus. 
What the Plague Ails me?— Love? No, I thank you for that; my heart's Rock still.—  
Yet 'tis Bellinda that disturbs me; that's positive.  
— Well, what of all that? Must I love her for being troublesome? at that rate, I might love all the Women I meet, I gad.  
But hold?— tho' I don't love her for disturbing me, yet she may disturb me, because I love her— Ay, that may be, faith.  
I have dreamt of her, that's certain—  
Well, so I have of my Mother; therefore what's that to the purpose?  
Ay, but Bellinda runs in my Mind waking—  
And so does many a damned thing, that I don't care a Farthing for—  
Methinks thou, I would fain be talking to her, and yet I have no Business.—  
Well, am I the first Man, that has had a Mind to do an Impertinent thing?  Enter Constant. Const. 
How now, Heartfree? What makes you up and Dressed so soon? I thought none but Lovers quarrelled with their Beds; I expected to have found you snoring, as I used to do.  Heart. 
Why, faith Friend, 'tis the Care I have of your Affairs, that makes me so thoughtful; I have been studying all Night, how to bring your Matter about with Bellinda.  Const. 
With Bellinda?  Heart. 
With my Lady, I mean: And faith I have mighty hopes on't. Sure you must be very well satisfied with her Behaviour to you Yesterday?  Const. 
So well; that nothing but a Lover's Fears, can make me doubt of Success. But what can this sudden Change proceed from?  Heart. 
Why, you saw her Husband beat her, did you not?  Const. 
That's true: A Husband is scarce to be born upon any terms, much less when he fights with his Wife. Methinks she should e'en have Cuckolded him upon the very spot, to show that after the Battle, she was Master of the Field.  Heart. 
A Council of War of Women, would infallibly have advised her to't. But, I confess, so agreeable a Woman as Bellinda, deserves a better usage.  Const. 
Bellinda again?  Heart. 
My Lady, I mean: What apox makes me blunder so to day? [aside] A Plague of this treacherous Tongue.  Const. 
Prithee look upon me seriously, Heartfree— Now answer me directly! Is it my Lady, or Bellinda, employs your careful Thoughts thus?  Heart. 
My Lady, or Bellinda?  Const. 
In Love, by this Light in Love.  Heart. 
In Love?  Const. 
Nay, ne'er deny it: for thou'lt do it so awkerdly, 'twill but make the Jest sit heavier about thee. My Dear Friend, I give thee much Joy▪  Heart. 
Why prithee, you won't persuade me to it, will you?  Const. 
That she's Mistress of your Tongue, that's plain, and I know you are so honest a Fellow, your Tongue and Heart always go together.  
But how? but how the Devil? Pha, ha, ha, ha—  Heart. 
hay day: Why sure you don't believe it in earnest?  Const. 
Yes, I do; because I see you deny it in jest.  Heart. 
Nay, but look you Ned,— a— deny in jest— a— gadzooks, you know I say— a— when a Man denies a thing in jest— a—  Const. 
Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha.  Heart. 
Nay, than we shall have it: What, because a Man stumbles at a word: Did you never make a Blunder?  Const. 
Yes, for I am in Love, I own it.  Heart. 
Then; so am I.—  
Now laugh till thy Soul's glutted with Mirth, [Embracing him.]  
But, dear Constant, don't tell the Town on't.  Const. 
Nay, than 'twere almost pity to laugh at thee, after so honest a Confession.  
But tell us a little, jack. By what new-invented Arms, has this mighty Stroke been given?  Heart. 
E'en by that unaccountable Weapon, called, je ne sçai quoy; For every thing that can come within the Verge of Beauty, I have seen it with Indifference.  Const. 
So in few words then; the, je ne sçai quoy, has been too hard for the Quilted Petticoat.  Heart. 
I gad, I think the je ne sçai quoy, is in the Quilted Petticoat; at least, 'tis certain, I ne'er think on't without— a— a je ne sçai quoy in every Part about me.  Const. 
Well, but have all your Remedies lost their Virtue, have you turned her Inside out yet?  Heart. 
I dare not so much as think on't.  Const. 
But don't the two Years Fatigue, I have had, discourage you?  Heart. 
Yes: I dread what I foresee; yet cannot quit the Enterprise. Like some Soldiers; whose Courage dwells more in their Honour, than their Nature; On they go, tho' the Body trembles, at what the Soul makes it Undertake.  Const. 
Nay, if you expect your Mistress will use you, as your Profanations against her Sex deserve, you tremble Justly.  
But how do you intent to proceed, Friend?  Heart. 
Thou know'st I'm but a Novice; be friendly and advise me.  Const. 
Why look you then; I'd have you— Serenade and a— write a Song— Go to Church; Look like a Fool— Be very Officious: Ogle, Write and Lead out; And who knows, but in a Year or two's time, you may be— called a troublesome Puppy, and sent about your Business.  Heart. 
That's hard.  Const. 
Yet thus it oft falls out with Lovers, Sir.  Heart. 
Pox on me for making one of the Number.  Const. 
Have a Care: Say no Saucy things: 'twill but augment your Crime, and if your Mistress hears on't, increase your Punishment.  Heart. 
Prithee say something then to encourage me, you know I helped you in your Distress.  Const. 
Why then to encourage you to Perseverance, that you may be thoroughly ill used for your Offences, I'll put you in Mind, That even the coyest Ladies of 'em all, are made up of Desires, as well as we; and tho' they do hold out a long time, they will Capitulate at last. For that thundering Engenier, Nature, does make such havoc in the Town, they must Surrender at long Run, or Perish in their own Flames.  Enter a Footman. 
Sir, There's a Porter without with a Letter; he desires to give it into your own Hands.  Const. 
Call him in.  Enter Porter. Const. 
What Io; Is it thee?  Porter. 
An't please you Sir, I was Ordered to Deliver this into your own Hands, by two well-shaped Ladies, at the New-Exchange. I was at your Honour's Lodgings, and your Servants sent me hither.  Const. 
'Tis well, Are you to carry any Answer?  Porter. 
No, my noble Master. They gave me my Orders, and whip, they were gone, like a Maidenhead at Fifteen.  Const. 
Very well; there. Gives him Money.  Porter. 
God bless your Honour.  Exit Porter. Const. 
Now let's see, what honest trusty Io has brought us.  Reads. 
If you and your Playfellow, can spare time from your Business and Devotions, don't fail to be at Spring-Garden about Eight in the Evening. You'll find nothing there but Women, so you need bring no other Arms than what you usually carry about you.  
So, Playfellow: Here's something to stay your Stomach, till your mistress's Dish is ready for you.  Heart. 
Some of our old Battered Acquaintance. I won't go, not I  Const. 
Nay, that you can't avoid: There's honour in the Case, 'tis a Challenge, and I want a Second.  Heart. 
I doubt I shall be but a very useless one to you; for I'm so disheartened by this Wound Bellinda has given me; I don't think I shall have Courage enough to draw my Sword.  Const. 
O, if that be all, come along; I'll warrant you find Sword enough for such Enemies as we have to deal withal.  Exeunt. Enter Constable, etc. with Sir John. Constable. 
Come along, Sir, I thought to have let you slip this Morning, because you were a Minister; but you are as Drunk and as Abusive as ever. We'll see what the Justice of the Peace will say to you.  Sir john. 
And you shall see what I'll say to the Justice of the Peace, Sirrah.  They Knock at the Door. Enter Servant. Constab. 
Pray Acquaint his Worship, we have got an unruly Parson here: We are unwilling to expose him, but don't know what to do with him.  Servant. 
I'll Acquaint my Master.  Exit Servant, Sir john. 
You— Constable— What damned Justice is this?  Constab. 
One that will take Care of you, I warrant you.  Enter justice.. justice. 
Well, Mr. Constable; What's the Disorder here?  Constab. 
An't Please your Worship—  Sir john. 
Let me speak and be damned: I'm a Divine, and can unfold Mysteries better than you can do.  justice. 
Sadness, Sadness, a Minister so Over-taken. Pray Sir, Give the Constable leave to speak, and I'll hear you very patiently; I assure you Sir, I will.  Sir john. 
Sir,— You are a very Civil Magistrate. Your most humble Servant.  Constab. 
An't Please your Worship then; he has attempted to beat the Watch to Night, and Swore—  Sir john. 
You Lye.  justice. 
Hold, pray Sir, a little.  Sir john. 
Sir, your very humble Servant.  Constab. 
Indeed Sir, he came at us without any Provocation, called us Whores and Rogues, and laid us on with a great Quarterstaff. He was in my Lord Rake's Company. They have been playing the Devil to Night.  justice. 
Hem— Hem— Pray Sir— May you be Chaplain to my Lord?  Sir john. 
Sir— I presume— I may if I will.  justice. 
My meaning Sir, is— Are you so?  Sir john. 
Sir,— You mean very well.  justice. 
He hem— hem— Under favour, Sir, Pray Answer me directly.  Sir john. 
Under favour, Sir— Do you use to Answer directly when you are Drunk?  justice. 
Good lack, good lack: Here's nothing to be got from him. Pray Sir, may I crave your Name?  Sir john. 
Sir,— My Name's— He Hycops. Hyccop, Sir.  justice. 
Hyccop? Doctor Hyccop. I have known a great many Country Parsons of that Name, especially down in the Fens. Pray where do you live, Sir?  Sir john. 
Here— and there, Sir.  justice. 
Why, what a strange Man is this? Where do you Preach, Sir? Have you any Cure?  Sir john. 
Sir— I have— a very good Cure— for a Clap, at your Service.  justice. 
Lord have mercy upon us.  Sir john. 
[Aside.] This Fellow does Ask so many Impertinent Questions, I believe I gad, 'tis the Justice's Wife, in the Justice's Clothes.  justice. 
Mr. Constable, I Vow and Protest, I don't know what to do with him.  Constab. 
Truly, he has been but a troublesome Guest to us all Night.  justice. 
I think, I had e'en best let him go about his Business, for I'm unwilling to expose him.  Constab. 
E'en what your Worship thinks fit.  Sir john. 
Sir,— not to interrupt Mr. Constable, I have a small Favour to ask.  justice. 
Sir, I open both my Ears to you.  Sir john. 
Sir, your very humble Servant. I have a little Urgent Business calls upon me; And therefore I desire the Favour of you, to bring Matters to a Conclusion.  justice. 
Sir, If I were sure that Business, were not to Commit more Disorders; I would release you.  Sir john. 
None,— By my Priesthood.  Iust. 
Then, Mr. Constable, you may Discharge him.  Sir john. 
Sir, your very humble Servant. If you please to Accept of a Bottle—  Iust. 
I thank you kindly, Sir; but I never drink in a Morning. Good-buy to ye, Sir, good-buy to ye.  Sir john. 
Good-buy t'ye, good Sir. Exit justice..  
So— now, Mr. Constable, Shall you and I go pick up a Whore together.  Constab. 
No, thank you, Sir; My Wife's enough to satisfy any reasonable Man.  Sir john. 
[Aside.] He, he, he, he, he,— the Fool is Married then. Well, you won't go?  Constab. 
Not I, truly.  Sir john. 
Then I'll go by myself; and you and your Wife may be Damned.  Exit Sir John. Constable gazing after him. 
Why Godamercy Parson.  Exeunt. SCENE Spring-Garden. Constant and Heartfree Cross the Stage. As they go off, Enter Lady fanciful and Mademoiselle, Masked and Dogging 'em. Const. 
So: I think we are about the time appointed; Let us walk up this way.  Exeunt. Lady Fancy. 
Good: Thus far I have Dogged 'em without being discovered. 'Tis infallibly some Intrigue that brings them to Spring-Garden. How my poor Heart is torn and wracked with Fear and Jealousy. Yet let it be any thing, but that Flirt Bellinda, and I'll try to hear it. But if it prove her, All that's Woman in me shall be employed to destroy her. Exeunt after Constant and Heartfree.  Re-enter Constant and Heartfree. Lady fanciful and Mademoiselle still following at a Distance. Const. 
I see no Females yet, that have any thing to say to us. I'm afraid we are bantered.  Heart. 
I wish we were; for I'm in no Humour to make either them or myself merry.  Const. 
Nay, I'm sure you'll make them merry enough; if I tell 'em why you are dull. But prithee why so heavy and sad, before you begin to be ill used?  Heart. 
For the same Reason, perhaps, that you are so brisk and well pleased; because both Pains and Pleasures are generally more considerable in Prospect, than when they come to pass.  Enter Lady B. and Bellinda, masked, and poorly dressed. Const. 
How now, who are these? Not our Game I hope.  Heart. 
If they are, we are e'en well enough served, to come hunting here, when we had so much better Game in Chase elsewhere.  Lady Fancy. to Mademoiselle. 
So, those are their Ladies without doubt. But I'm afraid that Doily Stuff is not worn for want of better clothes. They are the very Shape and Size of Bellinda and her Aunt.  Madamois. 
So day be inteed, Matam.  Lady Fancy. 
We'll slip into this close Arbour, where we may hear all they say.  Exeunt Lady Fancy. and Mademoiselle. Lady B. 
What, are you afraid of us, Gentlemen?  Heart. 
Why truly I think we may, if Appearance don't lie.  Bel. 
Do you always find Women what they appear to be, Sir?  Heart. 
No Forsooth; but I seldom find 'em better than they appear to be.  Bel. 
Then the Outside's best, you think?  Heart. 
'Tis the honestest.  Const. 
Have a care, Heartfree; you are relapsing again.  Lady B. 
Why, does the Gentleman use to rail at Women?  Const. 
He has done formerly.  Bel. 
I suppose he had very good Cause for't:  
They did not use you so well, as you thought you deserved, Sir.  Lady B. 
They made themselves merry at your Expense, Sir.  Bel. 
Laughed when you Sighed  Lady B. 
Slept while you were waking.  Bel. 
Had your Porter beat.  Lady B 
And threw your Billet doux in the Fire.  Heart. 
hay day, I shall do more than rail presently.  Bel. 
Why you won't beat us, will you?  Heart. 
I don't know but I may.  Const. 
What the Devil's coming here? Sir john in a Gown?— And drunk I'faith.  Enter Sir John. Sir john. 
What a Pox— here's Constant, Heartfree,— and two Whores I gad:— O you covetous Rogues; what, have you never a spare Punk for you Friend?— But I'll share with you.  He seizes both the Women. Heart. 
Why, what the Plague have you been doing, Knight.  Sir john. 
Why, I have been beating the Watch, and scandalising the Clergy.  Heart. 
A very good Account, truly.  Sir john. 
And what do you think I'll do next?  Const. 
Nay, that no Man can guests.  Sir john. 
Why, if you'll let me sup with you, I'll treat both your Strumpets.  Lady B. 
[aside.] O Lord, we are undone.  Heart. 
No, we can't sup together, because we have some Affairs elsewhere. But if you'll accept of these two Ladies, we'll be so complaisant to you, to resign our Right in 'em.  Bel. 
[aside.] Lord, what shall we do?  Sir john. 
Let me see, their clothes are such damned clothes, they won't pawn for the Reckoning.  Heart. 
Sir john, your Servant. Rapture attend you.  Const. 
Adieu Ladies, make much of the Gentleman.  Lady B. 
Why sure, you won't leave us in the Hands of a drunken Fellow to abuse us.  Sir john. 
Who do you call a drunken Fellow, you Slut you? I'm a Man of Quality; the King has made me a Knight.  Heart. runs off. Heart. 
Ay, ay, you are in good Hands, Adieu, adieu.  Lady B. 
The Devil's Hands: Let me go, or I'll— For Heaven's sake protect us.  She breaks from him, runs to Constant, twitching off her Mask and clapping it on again. Sir john. 
I'll Devil you, you Jade you. I'll demolish your ugly Face.  Const. 
Hold a little, Knight, she swoons.  Sir john. 
I'll swoon her.  Const. 
hay, Heartfree.  Re-enter Heartfree. Bellinda runs to him and shows her Face. Heart. 
O Heavens! My dear Creature, stand there a little.  Const. 
Pull him off, jack.  Heart. 
Hold, mighty Man; look you, Sir, we did but jest with you. These are Ladies of our Acquaintance, that we had a mind to frighten a little, but now you must leave us.  Sir john. 
Oons, I won't leave you, not I  Heart. 
Nay, but you must though; and therefore make no words on't.  Sir john. 
Then you are a couple of damned uncivil Fellows. And I hope your Punks will give you sauce to your Mutton.  Exit Sir John. Lady B. 
Oh, I shall never come to myself again, I'm so frightened.  Const. 
'Twas a narrow 'scape, indeed.  Bel. 
Women must have Frolicks, you see, whatever they cost 'em.  Heart. 
This might have proved a dear one thou.  Lady B. 
You are the more obliged to us, for the Risque we run upon your Accounts.  Const. 
And I hope you'll acknowledge something due to our Knight Errantry, Ladies. This is the second time we have delivered you.  Lady B. 
'Tis true; and since we see Fate has designed you for our Guardians, 'twill make us the more willing to trust ourselves in your Hands. But you must not have the worse Opinion of us for our Innocent Frolic.  Heart. 
Ladies, you may command our Opinions in every thing that is to your Advantage.  Bel. 
Then, Sir, I command you to be of Opinion, That Women are sometimes better than they appear to be.  Lady Brute and Constant talk apart. Heart. 
Madam, you have made a Convert of me in every thing. I'm grown a Fool: I could be fond of a Woman.  Bel. 
I thank you, Sir, in the Name of the whole Sex.  Heart. 
Which Sex nothing but yourself, could ever have atoned for.  Bel. 
Now has my Vanity a devilish Itch, to know in what my Merit consists.  Heart. 
In your Humility, Madam, that keeps you ignorant it consists at all.  Bel. 
One other Compliment with that serious Face, and I hate you for ever after.  Heart. 
Some Women love to be abused: Is that it you would be at?  Bel. 
No, not that neither: But I'd have Men talk plainly what's fit for Women to hear; without putting 'em either to a real, or an affected Blush.  Heart. 
Why then, in as plain Terms as I can find to express myself: I could love you even to— Matrimony itself amost I-gad.  Bel. 
Just as Sir john did her Ladyship there.  
What think you? Don't you believe one Month's time might bring you down to the same Indifference, only clad in a little better Manners, perhaps. Well, you Men are unaccountable things, mad till you have your Mistresses; and then stark mad till you are rid of 'em again. Tell me, honestly, is not your Patience put to a much severer Trial after Possession, than before?  Heart. 
With a great many, I must confess, it is, to our eternal Scandal; but I— dear Creature, do but try me.  Bel. 
That's the surest way indeed, to know, but not the safest.  
To Lady B. Madam, are not you for taking a turn in the Great Walk: It's almost dark, no body will know us.  Lady B. 
Really I find myself something idle, Bellinda, besides, I dote upon this little odd private Corner. But don't let my lazy Fancy confine you.  Const. 
[aside.] So, she would be left alone with me, that's well.  Bel 
Well, we'll take one turn, and come to you again.  
To Heart. Come, Sir, shall we go pry into the secrets of the Garden. Who knows what Discoveries we may make.  Heart. 
Madam, I'm at your Service.  Const. 
to Heart. [aside.] Don't make too much haste back; for, d'ye hear— I may be busy.  Heart. 
Enough.  Exit Bellinda and Heartfree. Lady B. 
Sure you think me scandalously free, Mr. Constant. I'm afraid I shall lose your good Opinion of me.  Const. 
My good Opinion, Madam, is like your Cruelty, never to be removed.  Lady B 
But if I should remove my Cruelty, then there's an end of your good Opinion.  Const. 
There is not so strict an Alliance between 'em neither. 'Tis certain I should love you then better (if that be possible) than I do now; and where I love, I always esteem.  Lady B. 
Indeed, I doubt you much:  
Why suppose you had a Wife, and she should entertain a Gallant.  Const. 
If I gave her just Cause, how could I justly condemn her?  Lady B. 
Ah; but you'd differ widely about just Causes.  Const. 
But blows can bear no Dispute.  Lady B. 
Nor Ill Manners much, truly.  Const. 
Then no Woman upon Earth, has so just a Cause as you have.  Lady B. 
O, but a faithful Wife, is a beautiful Character.  Const. 
To a deserving Husband, I confess it is.  Lady B. 
But can his Faults Release my Duty?  Const. 
In Equity without doubt. And where Laws dispense with Equity; Equity should dispense with Laws.  Lady B. 
Pray let's leave this Dispute; for you Men have as much Witchcraft in your Arguments, as Women have in their Eyes.  Const. 
But whilst you Attack me with your Charms, 'tis but reasonable I Assault you with mine.  Lady B. 
The Case is not the same. What Mischief we do, we can't help, and therefore are to be forgiven.  Const. 
Beauty soon obtains Pardon, for the Pain that it gives, when it applies the Balm of Compassion to the Wound; But a fine Face, and a hard Heart, is almost as bad as an ugly Face and a soft one: both very troublesome to many a Poor Gentleman.  Lady B. 
Yes, and to many a Poor Gentlewoman too, I can assure you. But pray which of 'em is it, that most afflicts you?  Const. 
Your Glass and Conscience will inform you, Madam. But for Heaven's sake (for now I must be serious) if Pity or if Gratitude can move you, Taking her hand. If Constancy and Truth have Power to tempt you; If Love, if Adoration can affect you, give me at least some hopes, that time may do, what you perhaps mean never to perform; 'Twill ease my Sufferings, tho' not quench my Flame.  Lady B. 
Your Sufferings eased, your Flame would soon abate; And that I would preserve, not quench it, Sir.  Const. 
Would you preserve it, nourish it with favours; for that's the Food, it naturally requires.  Lady B. 
Yet on that Natural Food, 'twould Surfeit soon, should I resolve to grant all that you would ask.  Const. 
And in refusing all, you starve it. Forgive me therefore, since my Hunger rages, if I at last grow Wild, and in my frenzy force at least, This from you. Kissing her hand. Or if you'd have my Flame, soar higher still, then grant me this, and this, and this, and Thousands more; [Kissing first her hand, than her neck. Aside.] for now's the time, She melts into Compassion.  Lady B. 
[Aside.] Poor Coward Virtue, how it shuns the Battle. O heavens! let me go.  Const. 
Ay, go, ay: Where shall we go, my Charming Angel,— into this private Arbour.— Nay, let's lose no time— Moment's are precious.  Lady B. 
And Lovers wild. Pray let us stop here; at least for this time.  Const. 
'Tis impossible: He that has Power over you, can have none over himself. As he is forcing her into the Arbour, Lady Fanciful and Madamoiselle bolt out upon them, and Run over the Stage.  Lady B. 
Ah; I'm lost.  Lady Fancy. 
Fe, fe, fe, fe, fe.  Madamois. 
Fe, fe, fe, fe, fe.  Const. 
Death and Furies, who are these?  Lady B. 
Oh heavens, I'm out of my Wits; if they knew me, I'm Ruined.  Const. 
Don't be frightened; Ten thousand to One they are Strangers to you.  Lady B. 
Whatever they are, I won't stay here a moment longer.  Const. 
Whither will you go?  Lady B. 
Home, as if the Devil were in me. Lord where's this Bellinda now?  Enter Bellinda and Heartfree. 
O! it's well you are come: I'm so frightened my Hair stands an end.  
Let's be gone for Heaven's sake.  Bell. 
Lord, What's the Matter?  Lady B. 
The Devil's the Matter, we are discovered. Here's a Couple of Women have done the most impertinent thing. Away, Away, Away, Away, Away.  Exit running. Re-enter Lady Fanciful and Mademoiselle. Lady Fancy. 
Well Mademoiselle, 'tis a Prodigious thing, how Women can suffer filthy Fellows, to grow so familiar with 'em.  Madamois. 
Ah Matam, il n'y a rien desi Naturel.  Lady Fancy. 
Fe, fe, fe. But oh my Heart; O Jealousy, O Torture, I'm upon the rack. What shall I do, my Lover's lost, I ne'er shall see him. Mine.  
Pausing— But I may be revenged; and that's the same thing. Ah sweet Revenge. Thou welcome thought, thou healing Balsam, to my wounded Soul. Be but propitious on this one Occasion, I'll place my Heaven in thee, for all my Life to come.  

To Woman how indulgent Nature's kind.  
No Blast of Fortune long disturbs her Mind.  
Compliance to her Fate supports her still,  
If Love won't make her Happy— Mischief will.   Exeunt. 
The End of the Fourth ACT.   

ACT V.  SCENE Lady Fancyfull's House. Enter Lady fanciful and Mademoiselle. Lady Fancy. 
WEll, Mademoiselle; Did you Dog the filthy things?  Madamois. 
O que Ouy Matam.  Lady Fancy. 
And where are they?  Madamois. 
Au Logis.  Lady Fancy. 
What? Men and All?  Madamois. 
Tous ensemble.  Lady Fancy. 
O Confidence! What, carry their Fellows to their own House?  Madamois. 
C'est que le Mari n'y est pas.  Lady Fancy. 
No, so I believe, truly. But he shall be there, and quickly too, if I can find him out.  
Well, 'tis a Prodigious thing, to see when Men and Women get together, how they fortify one another in their Impudence. But if that Drunken Fool, her Husband, be to be found in e'er a Tavern in Town, I'll send him amongst 'em. I'll spoil their Sport.  Madamois. 
En Verity Matam, ce seroit damage.  Lady Fancy. 
'Tis in Vain to Oppose it, Madamoiselle; therefore never go about it. For I am the steadiest Creature in the World— when I have determined to do Mischief. So, Come along.  Exeunt. SCENE Sir John Brutus' House. Enter Constant, Heartfree, Lady Brute, Bellinda, and Lovewell. Lady B. 
But are you sure you don't Mistake, Lovewell?  Love. 
Madam, I saw 'em all go into the Tavern together, and my Master was so drunk he could scarce stand.  Lady B. 
Then, Gentlemen, I believe we may Venture to let you Stay and Play at Cards with us an Hour or two; for they'll scarce part till Morning.  Bell. 
I think 'tis pity they should ever part.  Const. 
The Company that's here, Madam.  Lady B. 
Then, Sir, the Company that's here, must remember to part itself, in time.  Const. 
Madam, we dont intent to forfeit your future Favours, by an indiscreet Usage of this. The moment you give us the Signal, we sha'n't fail to make our Retreat.  Lady B. 
Upon those Conditions then, Let us sit down to Cards. Enter Lovewell. O Lord, Madam, here's my Master just staggering in upon you; He has been Quarrelsome yonder, and they have kicked him out of the Company.  Lady B. 
Into the Closet, Gentlemen, for Heaven's sake; I'll wheedle him to Bed, if possible.  Const. and Heart. run into the Closet. Enter Sir John, all Dirt and Bloody. Lady B. 
Ah— ah— he's all over Blood.  Sir john. 
What the Plague, does the Woman— Squall for? Did you never see a Man in Pickle before?  Lady B. 
Lord, where have you been?  Sir john. 
I have been at— Cuffs.  Lady B. 
I fear that is not all. I hope you are not wounded.  Sir john. 
Sound as a Roche, Wife.  Lady B. 
I'm mighty glad to hear it.  Sir I. 
You know— I think you Lye.  Lady B. 
I know you do me wrong to think so, then. For Heaven's my Witness, I had rather see my own Blood trickle down, than yours.  Sir john. 
Then will I be Crucified.  Lady B. 
'Tis a hard Fate, I should not be believed.  Sir john. 
'Tis a damned Atheistical Age, Wife.  Lady B. 
I am sure I have given you a Thousand tender Proofs, how great my Care is of you.  
Nay, spite of all your Cruel Thoughts, I'll still persist, and at this moment, if I can, persuade you to lie down, and Sleep a little.  Sir john. 
Why,— do you think I am drunk— you Slut, you?  Lady B. 
Heaven forbid, I should: But I'm afraid you are Feverish. Pray let me feel your Pulse.  Sir john. 
Stand off and be damned.  Lady B. 
Why, I see your Distemper in your very Eyes. You are all on fire. Pray go to Bed; Let me entreat you.  Sir john. 
— Come kiss me, then.  Lady B. 
[Kissing him.] There: Now go [Aside.] He stinks like Poison.  Sir john. 
I see it goes damnably against your Stomach—  
And therefore— Kiss me again.  Lady B. 
Nay, now you fool me.  Sir john. 
Do't, I say.  Lady B. 
[Aside.] Ah Lord have mercy upon me.  
Well; There; Now will you go?  Sir john. 
Now Wife, you shall see my Gratitude. You give me two Kisses, I'll give you— two Hundred. Kisses and tumbles her.  Lady B. 
O Lord: Pray, Sir john, be quiet.  
Heavens, what a Pickle am I in.  Bell 
[Aside.] If I were in her Pickle, I'd call my Gallant out of the ●oset, and he should Cudgel him soundly.  Sir john. 
So; Now, you being as dirty and as nasty as myself, We may go Pig together. But first, I must have a Cup of your Cold Tea, Wife. Going to the Closet.  Lady B. 
O, I'm ruined.  
〈…〉 there, my Dear.  
〈◊〉 I'll warrant you, I'll find some, my Dear.  
〈…〉 Open the Door, the Lock's spoiled. I have been 〈…〉 the Key this half hour to no purpose. I'll send for 〈…〉 Morrow.  Sir john. 
There's ne'er a Smith in Europe can Open a Door with more Expedition than I can do.— As for Example,— Pou. He bursts Open the Door with his foot.  
— How now?—  
What the Devil have we got here?—  
Constant— Heartfree— And two Whores again, I gad.—— This is the worst Cold Tea— that ever I met with in my Life.—  Enter Constant and Heartfree. Lady B. 
[aside.] O Lord, what will become of us?  Sir john. 
Gentlemen— I am your very humble Servant— I give you many Thanks— I see you take Care of my Family— I shall do all I can to return the Obligation.  Const. 
Sir, how oddly soever this Business may appear to you, you would have no Cause to be uneasy, if you knew the Truth of all things; your Lady is the most virtuous Woman in the World, and nothing has past, but an Innocent Frolic.  Heart. 
Nothing else, upon my Honour, Sir.  Sir john. 
You are both very Civil Gentlemen— And my Wife, there, is a very Civil Gentlewoman; therefore I don't doubt but many Civil things have passed between you. Your very humble Servant.  L. B. 
[Aside to Const.] Pray be gone; He's so drunk he can't hurt us to Night, and to Morrow Morning you shall hear from us.  Const. 
I'll Obey you, Madam.  
Sir, when you are Cool, you'll understand Reason better. So then I shall take the Pains to Inform you.  
If not— I wear a Sword, Sir, and so good-b'uy to you.  
Come along, Heartfree.  Sir john. 
— Wear a Sword, Sir:— And what of all that, Sir?— He comes to my House; Eats my Meat; Lies with my Wife; Dishonours my Family; Gets a Bastard to Inherit my Estate.— And when I ask a Civil Account of all this— Sir, says, he, I wear a Sword.— Wear a Sword, Sir? Yes Sir, says he; I wear a Sword— It may be a good Answer at Cross-Purposes; But 'tis a Damned One to a Man in my Whimsical Circumstance— Sir, says he, I wear a Sword.  
To Lady B. And what do you wear now? ha? tell me.  
Sitting down in a great Chair.  
What? you are Modest and cant?—  
Why then I'll tell you, you Slut you.  
You wear— an Impudent Lewd Face.—  
A Damned Designing Heart— And a Tail— and a Tail full of— He falls fast asleep, snoring.  Lady B. 
So; Thanks to Kind Heaven, he's fast for some Hours.  Bell. 
'Tis well he is so, that we may have time to lay our Story handsomely; for we must Lie like the Devil to bring ourselves off.  Lady B. 
What shall we say, Bellinda?  Bell. 
[Musing.]— I'll tell you: It must all light upon Heartfree and I. We'll say he has Courted me some time, but for Reasons unknown to us, has ever been very earnest the thing might be kept from Sir john. That therefore hearing him upon the Stairs, he run into the Closet, tho' against our Will, and Constant with him, to prevent Jealousy. And to give this a good Impudent face of Truth (that I may deliver you from the Trouble you are in:) I'll e'en (if he pleases) Marry him.  Lady B. 
I'm beholding to you, Cousin; but that would be carrying the Jest a little too far for your Own sake: You know he's a younger Brother, and has Nothing.  Bell. 
'Tis true; But I like him, and have Fortune enough to keep above Extremity: I can't say, I would live with him in a Cell upon Love and Bread and Butter. But I had rather have the Man I love, and a Middle State of Life, Than that Gentleman in the Chair there, and twice your ladyship's Splendour.  Lady B. 
In truth, Niece, you are in the Right on't: for I am very Uneasy with my Ambition. But perhaps, had I married as you'll do, I might have been as Ill used.  Bel. 
Some Risque, I do confess, there always is; But if a Man has the least spark, either of Honour or good Nature, he can never use a Woman Ill, that loves him and makes his Fortune both. Yet I must own to you, some little Struggling I still have, with this teazing Ambition of ours. For Pride, you know, is as Natural to a Woman, as 'tis to a Saint. I can't help being fond of this Rogue; and yet it goes to my Heart to think I must never Whisk to Hyde-park, with above a Pair of Horses; Have no Coronet upon my Coach, nor a Page to carry up my Train. But above all— that business of Place— Well; Taking Place, is a Noble Prerogative.  Lady B. 
Especially after a Quarrel.  Bell. 
Or of a Rival. But pray say no more on't, for fear I change my Mind. For o' my Conscience, were't not for your Affair in the balance, I should go near to pick up some Odious Man of Quality yet, and only take poor Heartfree for a Gallant.  Lady B. 
Then him you must have, however things go?  Bel. 
Yes.  Lady B. 
Why we may pretend what we will; but 'tis a hard matter to Live without the Man we Love.  Bel. 
Especially when we are Married to the Man we hate. Pray tell me? Do the Men of the Town ever believe us Virtuous, when they see us do so?  Lady B. 
O, no: Nor indeed hardly, let us do what we will. They most of 'em think, there is no such thing as Virtue considered in the strictest notions of it: And therefore when you hear 'em say, Such a one is a Woman of Reputation, They only mean she's a Woman of Discretion. For they consider, we have no more Religion than they have, nor so much Morality; and between you and I, Bellinda, I'm afraid the want of Inclination seldom protects any of us.  Bel. 
But what think you of the fear of being found out.  Lady B. 
I think that never kept any Woman virtuous long. We are not such Cowards neither. No: Let us once pass Fifteen, and we have too good an Opinion of our own Cunning, to believe the World can penetrate, into what we would keep a Secret. And so in short, We cannot reasonably blame the Men for judging of us by themselves.  Bel. 
But sure we are not so Wicked as they are, after all.  Lady B. 
We are as Wicked, Child, but our Vice lies another way: Men have more Courage than we, so they commit more Bold, Impudent Sins. They Quarrel, Fight, Swear, Drink, Blaspheme, and the like. Whereas we, being Cowards, only Backbite, tell Lies, Cheat at Cards and so forth. But 'tis late. Let's end our Discourse for to Night, and out of an excess of Charity, take a small Care, of that nasty drunken thing there— Do but look at him, Bellinda.  Bel. 
Ah— 'tis a Savoury Dish.  Lady B. 
As savoury as 'tis, I'm cloyed with't. Prithee Call the Butler to take away.  Bel. 
Call the Butler?— Call the Scavenger.  
To a Servant within. Who's there? Call Razor! Let him take away his Master, Scour him clean with a little Soap and Sand, and so put him to Bed.  Lady B. 
Come Bellinda, I'll e'en lie with you to Night; and in the Morning we'll send for our Gentlemen to set this Matter even:  Bel. 
Withal my Heart.  Lady B. 
Good Night, my Dear. Making a low Curtsy.  Both. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Exeunt. Enter Razor. 
My Lady there's a Wag— My Master there's a Cuckold. Marriage is a slippery thing— Women have depraved Appetites:— My Lady's a Wag, I have heard all: I have seen all: I understand all, and I'll tell all; for my little French-woman loves News dearly. This Story'll gain her Heart or nothing will.  
To his Master. Come, Sir, Your Head's too full of Fumes at present, to make Room for your Jealousy; but I reckon we shall have Rare work with you, when your Pate's empty. Come; to your Kennel, you Cuckoldly drunken Sot you. Carries him out upon his Back.  SCENE Lady Fancyfull's House. Enter Lady fanciful and Mademoiselle. Lady Fancy. 
But, why did not you tell me before, Madamoiselle, that Razor and you were fond?  Madamois. 
De Modesty hinder me, Matam.  Lady Fancy. 
Why truly Modesty does often hinder us from doing things we have an Extravagant Mind to. But does he love you well enough yet, to do any thing you bid him? Do you think to Oblige you he would speak Scandal?  Madamois. 
Matam, to Oblige your Ladyship, he shall speak Blasphemy.  Lady Fancy. 
Why then, Mademoiselle, I'll tell you what you shall do. You shall engage him to tell his Master, all that past at Spring-Garden. I have a Mind he should know what a Wife and a Niece he has got.  Madamois. 
Il le fera, Matam.  Enter a Footman, who speaks to Mademoiselle apart. Foot. 
Madamoiselle; Yonder's Mr. Razor desires to speak with you.  Madamois. 
Tell him, I come presently. Exit Footman. Razor be dare, Matam.  Lady Fancy. 
That's Fortunate: Well, I'll leave you together. And if you find him stubborn, Mademoiselle,— hark you— don't refuse him a few little reasonable Liberties, to put him into humour.  Madamois. 
Laisez moy fair. Exit Lady fanciful.  Razor peeps in; and seeing Lady fanciful gone, runs to Madamoiselle, takes her about the Neck and kisses her. Madamois. 
How now, Confidence.  Ras. 
How now, Modesty.  Madamois. 
Who make you so familiar, Sirrah?  Ras. 
My Impudence, Hussy.  Madamois. 
Stand off, Rogue-face.  Ras. 
Ah— Mademoiselle— great News at our House.  Madamois. 
Why what be de matter?  Ras. 
The Matter?— why, Uptails All's the Matter.  Madamois. 
Tu te mocque de moy.  Ras. 
Now do you long to know the particulars:  
The time when: The place where: The manner how;  
But I won't tell you a Word more.  Madamois. 
Nay, den dou Kill me, Razor.  Ras. 
Come, Kiss me, then. Clapping his hands behind him.  Madamois. 
Nay, pridee tell me.  Ras. 
Good bye to ye. Going.  Mademois. 
Hold, hold: I will Kiss dee. Kissing him.  Ras. 
So: that's Civil: Why now, my pretty Pall; My Goldfinch; My little Waterwagtail— you must know that— Come, Kiss me again.  Madamois. 
I won't Kiss d'ye no more.  Ras. 
Good bye to ye.  Madamois. 
Doucement: Dare: es tu content? Kissing him.  Ras. 
So: Now I'll tell thee all. Why the News is, That Cuckoldom in Folio, is newly Printed; and Matrimony in Quarto, is just going into the Press. Will you Buy any Books, Mademoiselle?  Madamois. 
Tu Parle comme un Librair, de Devil no Understand dee.  Ras. 
Why then, that I may make myself intelligible to a Waiting-woman, I'll speak like a Vallet de Chamber. My Lady has Cuckolded my Master.  Madamois. 
Bon.  Ras. 
Which we take very ill from her hands, I can tell her that. We can't yet prove Matter of Fact upon her.  Madamois. 
N'importe.  Ras. 
But we can prove, that Matter of Fact had like to have been upon her.  Madamois. 
Ouy da.  Ras. 
For we have such bloody Circumstances.  Madamois. 
Sans Doute.  Ras. 
That any Man of Parts, may draw tickling Conclusions from 'em.  Madamois. 
Fort bien.  Ras. 
We have found a couple of tight well-built Gentlemen, stuffed into her Ladyship's Closet.  Madamois. 
Le Diable  Ras. 
And I, in my particular Person, have discovered a most Damnable Plot, how to persuade my poor Master, that all this Hide and Seek, this Will in the Wisp, has no other meaning than a Christian Marriage for sweet Mrs. Bellinda.  Madamois. 
Une Marriage?— Ah les Droless.  Ras. 
Don't you interrupt me, Hussy; 'tis Agreed, I say. And my Innocent Lady, to Riggle herself out at the Backdoor of the Business, turns Marriage-Bawd to her Niece, and resolves to deliver up her fair Body, to be tumbled and mumbled, by that young Liquorish Whipster, Heartfree. Now are you satisfied?  Madamois. 
No.  Ras. 
Right Woman; Always gaping for more.  Madamois. 
Dis be all den, dat dou know?  Ras. 
All? Ay, and a great deal too, I think.  Madamois. 
Dou be fool, dou know noting.  
Ecoute mon pauvre Razor.  
Dou see des two Eyes?— Des two Eyes have see de Devil.  Ras. 
The Woman's Mad.  Madamois. 
In Spring-Garden, dat Rogue Constant, meet die Lady.  Ras. 
Bon.  Madamois. 
— I'll tell d'ye no more.  Ras. 
Nay, prithee, my Swan.  Madamois. 
Come, Kiss me den▪ Clapping her hands behind her, as he had done before.  Ras. 
I won't Kiss you, not I  Madamois. 
Adieu.  Ras. 
Hold:— Now proceed. Gives her a hearty Kiss.  Madamois. 
A ça— ay hide myself in one Cunning place, where I hear all, and see all. First die drunken Master come mal a propos; But de Sot no know his own dear Wife, so he leave her to her Sport—  
Den de game begin.  
De Lover say soft ting. As she speaks, Razor still acts the Man, and she the Woman.  
De Lady look upon de Ground  
He take her by de Hand.  
She turn her Head, one oder way.  
Den he squeeze very hard.  
Den she pull— very softly.  
Den he take her in his Arm.  
Den she give him, Little pat.  
Den he Kiss her Tettons.  
Den she say— Pish, nay see.  
Den he tremble,  
Den she— Sigh.  
Den he pull her into de Arbour,  
Den she pinch him  Ras. 
Ay, but not so hard, you Baggage you.  Mademois. 
Den he grow Bold.  
She grow Weak.  
He trow her down  
Il tombe dessu,  
Le Diable assist, Razor struggles with her, as if he would throw her down.  
Il emport tout:  
Stand off, Sirrah.  Ras. 
You have set me a fire, you Jade you.  Madamois. 
Den go to de River and quench die self.  Ras. 
What an unnatural Harlot 'tis.  Madamois. 
Razor. Looking languishingly on him.  Ras. 
Madamoiselle.  Madamois. 
Doughty no love me.  Ras. 
Not love thee!— More than a Frenchman does Soup.  Madamois. 
Den dou will refuse noting dat I bid d'ye?  Ras. 
Don't bid me be damned then:  Madamois. 
No, only tell die Master, all I have tell dee of dy Laty.  Ras. 
Why you little malicious Strumpet, you; should you like to be served so?  Madamois. 
Dou dispute den?— Adieu.  Ras. 
Hold— But why wilt thou make me be such a Rogue, my Dear?  Madamois. 
Voilà un Vrai Anglois: il est Amoureux, et cependant il veut raisoner. Vat' en au Diable.  Ras. 
Hold once more: In hopes thou'lt give me up thy Body, I resign thee up my Soul.  Madamois. 
Bon: eccute done:— if dou fail me— I never see d'ye more— She takes him about the Neck, and gives him a smacking Kiss.  
if dou obey me—  
je m'abandonne à toy.  Exit Mademoiselle. Ras. licking his Lips. 
Not be a Rogue?— Amor Vineit omnia. Exit Razor.  Enter Lady fanciful and Mademoiselle. Lady Fancy. 
Marry, say ye? Will the two things marry?  Madamois. 
On le va fair, Matam.  Lady Fancy. 
Look you, Madamo sell, in short, I can't bear it—— No; I find I can't— If once I see 'em a-bed together, I shall have ten thousand Thoughts in my Head will make me run distracted. Therefore run and call Razor back immediately, for something must be done to stop this Impertinent Wedding. If I can but defer it four and twenty Hours, I'll make such work about Town, with that little pert Sluts Reputation. He shall as soon marry a Witch.  Madamois. 
[aside.] La Voilà bien intentionée. Exeunt.  SCENE Constant's Lodgings. Enter Constant and Heartfree. Const. 
But what dost think will come of this Business?  Heart. 
'Tis easier to think what will not come on't.  Const. 
What's that?  Heart. 
A Challenge. I know the Knight too well for that. His dear Body will always prevail upon his noble Soul to be quiet.  Const. 
But tho' he dare not challenge me, perhaps he may venture to challenge his Wife.  Heart. 
Not if you whisper him in the Ear, you won't have him do't, and there's no other way left that I see. For as drunk as he was, he'll remember you and I were where we should not be; and I don't think him quite Blockhead enough yet, to be persuaded we were got into his Wife's Closet, only to peep in her Prayer-book.  Enter Servant, with a Letter. Servant. 
Sir, Here's a Letter, a Porter brought it.  Const. 
O ho, here's Instructions for us.  Reads. 
The Accident that has happened has touched our Invention to the quick. We would fain come off, without your help; but find that's impossible. In a word, the whole Business must be thrown upon a Matrimonial Intrigue, between your Friend and mine. But if the Parties are not fond enough, to go quite through with the Matter; 'tis sufficient for our turn, they own the Design. We'll find Pretences enough, to break the Match. Adieu.  
— Well, Woman for Invention: How long would my Blockhead have been a producing this.  
— hay, Heartfree; what, musing Man? Prithee be cheerful. What sayst thou, Friend, to this Matrimonial Remedy?  Heart. 
Why I say, it's worse than the Disease.  Const. 
Here's a Fellow for you: There's Beauty and Money on her Side, and Love up to the Ears on his; and yet—  Heart. 
And yet, I think, I may reasonably be allowed to boggle at marrying the Niece, in the very Moment that you are a debauching the Aunt.  Const. 
Why truly, there may be something in that. But have not you a good Opinion enough of your own Parts, to believe you could keep a Wife to yourself?  Heart. 
I should have, if I had a good Opinion enough of hers, to believe she could do as much by me. For to do 'em Right, after all, the Wife seldom rambles, till the Husband shows her the way.  Const. 
'Tis true; a Man of real Worth, scarce ever is a Cuckold, but by his own Fault▪ Women are not naturally lewd, there must be something to urge 'em to it. They'll cuckold a Churl, out of Revenge; A Fool, because they despise him; a Beast because they loathe him. But when they make bold with a Man they once had a well grounded Value for, 'tis because they first see themselves neglected by him.  Heart. 
Nay, were I well assured, that I should never grow Sir john. I ne'er should fear Bellinda ●d play my Lady. But our Weakness, thou know'st, my Friend, consists in that very Change, we so impudently throw upon (indeed) a steadier and more generous Sex.  Const. 
Why Faith we are a little Impudent in that Matter that's the Truth on't. But this is wonderful, to see you grown so warm an Advocate for those (but t'other Day) you took so much pains to abuse.  Heart. 
All Revolutions run into Extremes, the Bigot makes the boldest Atheist; and the coyest Saint, the most extravagant Strumpet. But Prithee advise me in this good and Evil; this Life and Death, this Blessing and Cursing, that is set before me. Shall I marry— or die a Maid?  Const. 
Why Faith, Heartfree, Matrimony is like an Army going to engage. Love's the forlorn Hope, which is soon cut off; the Marriage-Knot is the main Body, which may stand Buff a long long time; and Repentance is the Rearguard, which rarely gives ground, as long as the main Battle has a Being.  Heart. 
Conclusion then; you advise me to whore on, as you do.  Const. 
That's not concluded yet. For tho' Marriage be a Lottery in which there are a wondrous many Blanks; yet there is one inestimable Lot, in which the only Heaven on Earth is written. Would your kind Fate but guide your Hand to that, though I were wrapped in all that Luxury itself could clothe me with, I still should envy you.  Heart. 
And justly too: For to be capable of loving one, doubtless is better than to possess a Thousand. But how far that Capacity's in me, alas I know not.  Const. 
But you would know?  Heart. 
I would so.  Const. 
Matrimony will inform you.  
Come, one Flight of Resolution carries you to the Land of Experience; where, in a very moderate time, you'll know the Capacity of your Soul, and your Body both, or I'm mistaken. Exeunt.  SCENE Sir John Brutus' House. Enter Lady Brute and Bellinda. Bel. 
Well, Madam, what Answer have you from 'em?  Lady B. 
That they'll be here this Moment. I fancy 'twill end in a Wedding. I'm sure he's a Fool if it don't. Ten Thousand Pound, and such a Lass as you are, is no contemptible Offer to a younger Brother. But are not you under strange Agitations? Prithee how does your Pulse beat?  Bel. 
High and low, I have much ado to be Valiant, feel very strange to go to Bed to a Man?  Lady B. 
'Em— it does feel a little odd at first, but it will soon grow easy to you.  Enter Constant and Heartfree. Lady B. 
Good Morrow Gentlemen: How have you slept after your Adventure?  Heart. 
Some careful Thoughts, Ladies, on your Accounts have kept us waking.  Bel. 
And some careful Thoughts on your own, I believe, have hindered you from sleeping. Pray how does this Matrimonial Project relish with you.  Heart. 
Why Faith e'en as storming Towns does with Soldiers, where the Hopes of delicious Plunder banishes the Fear of being knocked on the Head.  Bel. 
Is it then possible after all, That you dare think of downright lawful Wedlock?  Heart. 
Madam, you have made me so Foolhardy, I dare do any thing.  Bel. 
Then Sir, I challenge you; and Matrimonies the Spot where I expect you.  Heart. 
'Tis enough; I'll not fail.  
[Aside.] So, Now I am in for Hobs' Voyage; a great Leap in the Dark.  Lady B. 
Well, Gentlemen, this Matter being concluded then, have you got your Lessons ready? For Sir john is grown such an Atheist of late, he'll believe nothing upon easy Terms.  Const. 
We'll find ways to extend his Faith, Madam. But pray how do you find him this Morning?  Lady B. 
Most lamentably morose, chewing the Cud after last Night's Discovery; of which however he had but a confused Notion e'en now. But I'm afraid his Vallet de Chamber has told him all, for they are very busy together at this Moment. When I told him of Bellinda's Marriage, I had no other Answer but a Grunt: From which, you may draw what Conclusions you think fit.  
But to your Notes, Gentlemen, He's here.  Enter Sir John and Razor. Const. 
Good Morrow, Sir.  Heart. 
Good Morrow, Sir john. I'm very sorry my Indiscretion should cause so much Disorder in your Family.  Const. 
Disorders generally come from Indiscretions, Sir, 'tis no strange thing at all.  Lady B. 
I hope, my Dear, you are satisfied there was no wrong intended you.  Sir john. 
None, my Dove.  Bel. 
If not, I hope my Consent to marry Mr. Heartfree will convince you. For as little as I know of Amours, Sir, I can assure you, one Intrigue is enough to bring four People together, without further mischief.  Sir john. 
And I know too, that Intrigues tends to Procreation of more kinds than one. One Intrigue will beget another as soon as beget a Son or a Daughter.  Const. 
I am very sorry, Sir, to see you still seem unsatisfied with a Lady, whose more than common Virtue, I am sure, were she my Wife, should meet a better Usage.  Sir john. 
Sir, If her Conduct has put a trick upon her Virtue, her virtue's the Bubble, but her Husband's the Loser.  Const. 
Sir, You have received a sufficient Answer already, to justify both her Conduct and mine. You'll pardon me for meddling in your Family Affairs; but I perceive I am the Man you are jealous of, and therefore it concerns me.  Sir john. 
Would it did not concern me, and then I should not care who it concerned.  Const. 
Well, Sir, if Truth and Reason won't content you; I know but one way more, which, if you think fit, you may take.  Sir john. 
Lord, Sir, you are very hasty: If I had been found at Prayers in your Wife's Closet, I should have allowed you twice as much time to come to yourself in.  Const. 
Nay, Sir, if Time be all you want. We have no Quarrel.  Heart. 
I told you how the Sword would work Sir John muzes. upon him.  Const. 
Let him muse; however, I'll lay Fifty Pound our Foreman brings us in, Not Guilty.  Sir john. 
[Aside.] 'Tis well— 'tis very well— In spite of that young Jade's Matrimonial Intrigue, I am a downright stinking Cuckold— Here they are— Boo— Putting his Hand to his Forehead. Methinks I could Butt with a Bull.  
What the plague did I marry her for? I knew she did not like me; if she had, she would have lain with me; for I would have done so, because I liked her: But that's past, and I have her. And now, what shall I do with her— If I put my Horns in my Pocket, she'll grow Insolent.— If I don't; that Goat there, that Stallion, is ready to whip me through the Guts.— The Debate than is reduced to this; Shall I die a Hero? or live a Rascal?— Why, Wiser Men than I, have long since concluded, that a living Dog is better than a dead Lion.—  
[Too Const. and Heart.] Gentlemen, now my Wine and my Passion are governable, I must own, I have never observed any thing in my Wife's Course of Life, to back me in my Jealousy of her: but jealousy's a mark of Love; so she need not trouble her head about it, as long as I ●ake no more words on't.  Lady Fancyf. enters Disguised, and Addresses to Bellinda apart. Const. 
I am glad to see your Reason rule at last. Give me your Hand: I hope you'll look upon me as you are wont.  Sir john. 
Your humble Servant. [Aside,] A wheedling Son of a Whore.  Heart. 
And that I may be sure you are Friends with me too, pray give me your Consent to wed your Niece.  Sir john. 
Sir, you have it with all my Heart: Damn me if you han't. [Aside.] 'Tis time to get rid of her; A young Pert Pimp; She'll make an incomparable Bawd in a little time.  Enter a Servant, who gives Heartfree a Letter. Bel. 
Heartfree your Husband, say you? 'tis impossible.  Lady Fancy. 
Would to kind Heaven it were: but 'tis too true; and in the World there lives not such a Wretch. I'm young; and either I have been flattered by my Friends, as well as Glass, or Nature has been kind and generous to me. I had a Fortune too, was greater far than he could ever hope for. But with my Heart, I am robbed of all the rest. I'm Slighted and I'm Beggared both at once. I have scarce a bare Subsistence from the Villain, yet dare complain to none; for he has sworn, if e'er 'tis known I am his Wife, he'll murder me. Weeping.  Bel. 
The Traitor.  Lady Fancy. 
I accidentally was told he Courted you; Charity soon prevailed upon me to prevent your Misery: And as you see, I'm still so generous even to him, as not to suffer he should do a thing, for which the Law might take away his Life. Weeping.  Bel. 
Poor Creature; how I pity her! They continued talking aside.  Heart. 
[Aside,] Death and Damnation!— Let me read it again. [Reads.]  
Though I have a particular Reason, not to let you know who I am till I see you; yet you'll easily believe 'tis a faithful Friend that gives you this Advice.— I have lain with Bellinda. (Good.)— I have a Child by her, (Better and Better.) which is now at Nurse; (Heaven be praised.) and I think the Foundation laid for another: (Ha!— Old Trupenny!)— No Rack could have tortured this Story from me; but Friendship has done it. I heard of your design to Marry her, and could not see you Abused. Make use of my Advice, but keep my Secret till I ask you for't again. Adieu.  Exit Lady fanciful. Const. to B. 
Come, Madam; Shall we send for the Parson? I doubt here's no business for the Lawyer: Younger Brothers have nothing to settle but their Hearts, and that I believe my Friend here has already done, very faithfully.  Bel. 
[scornfully.] Are you sure, Sir, there are no old Mortgages upon it.  Heart. 
[coldly.] If you think there are, Madam, it mayn't be amiss to defer the Marriage till you are sure they are paid off.  Bel. 
[Aside.] How the Galled Horse Kicks!  
[To Heart.] We'll defer it as long as you please, Sir.  Heart. 
The more Time we take to consider on't, Madam, the less apt we shall be to commit Oversights; Therefore, if you please, we'll put it off, for just Nine Months.  Bell. 
Guilty Consciences make Men Cowards: I don't wonder you want Time to Resolve.  Heart. 
And they make Women Desperate: I don't wonder you were so quickly Determined.  Bel. 
What does the Fellow mean?  Heart. 
What does the Lady mean?  Sir john. 
Zounds, what do you both mean?  Heart. and Bel. walk chasing about. Ras. 
[Aside.] Here is so much Sport going to be spoiled, it makes me ready to weep again. A Pox o' this Impertinent Lady fanciful, and her Plots, and her French-woman too. She's a Whimsical, Ill-natured Bitch, and when I have got my Bones broke in her Service, 'tis Ten to One but my Recompense is a Clap; I hear 'em tittering without still. I Cod I'll e'en go lug 'em both in by the Ears, and Discover the Plot, to secure my Pardon. Exit. Ras.  Const. 
Prithee explain, Heartfree.  Heart. 
A fair Deliverance; thank my Stars and my Friend.  Bel. 
'Tis well it went no farther. A Base Fellow.  Lady B. 
What can be the meaning of all this?  Bel. 
What's his meaning, I don't know. But mine is; That if I had Married him— I had had no Husband.  Heart. 
And what's her meaning, I don't know. But mine is; That if I had Married her— I had had Wife enough.  Sir john. 
Your People of Wit, have got such Cramp ways of expressing themselves, they seldom comprehend one another. Pox take you both, will you speak that you may be Understood.  Enter Razor in Sackcloth, pulling in Lady Fancyf. and Madamois. Ras. 
If they won't, here comes an Interpreter.  Lady B. 
Heavens, what have we here?  Ras. 
A Villain,— but a Repenting Villain. Stuff which Saints in all Ages have been made of.  All. 
Razor.  Lady B. 
What means this sudden Metamorphose?  Ras. 
Nothing: without my Pardon.  Lady B. 
What Pardon do you want?  Ras. 
Imprimis, Your Ladyships; For a Damnable Lie made upon your Spotless Virtue, and set to the Tune of Spring-Garden.  
[To Sir john] Next, At my Generous Master's Feet I bend, for Interrupting his more Noble Thoughts with Phantomes of Disgraceful Cuckoldom.  
[Too Const.] Thirdly, I to this Gentleman apply, for making him the Hero of my Romance.  
[To Heartf.] Fourthly, Your Pardon, Noble Sir, I ask, for Clandestinely Marrying you, without either bidding of Banns; Bishop's Licence, Friends Consent— or your own Knowledge.  
[To Belgiosa] And lastly, to my good young Lady's Clemency I come, for pretending the Corn was sowed in the Ground, before ever the Plough had been in the Field.  Sir john. 
[aside.] So that after all, 'tis 'a Moot Point, whether I am a Cuckold or not.  Bel. 
Well Sir, upon Condition you confess all, I'll Pardon you myself, and try to obtain as much from the rest of the Company. But I must know then, who 'tis has put you upon all this Mischief?  Ras. 
Satan, and his Equipage. Woman tempted me, Lust weakened me;— And so the Devil overcame me: As fell Adam, so fell I  Bel. 
Then pray, Mr. Adam, will you make us acquainted with your Eve.  Ras. 
to Madam. Unmask, for the honour of France.  All. 
Madamoiselle?  Madamois. 
Me ask ten thousand Pardon of all the good Company.  Sir john. 
Why this Mystery thickens instead of clearing up.  
[To Ras.] You Son of a Whore you, put us out of our pain.  Ras. 
One moment brings Sunshine.  
Showing Madamois. 'Tis true; This is the Woman, that tempted me. But this is the Serpent, that tempted the Woman; And if my Prayers might be heard, her Punishment for so doing, should be like the Serpent's of Old.  
Pulls off Lady F's Mask. She should lie upon her Face, all the days of her Life.  All. 
Lady fanciful.  Bel. 
Impertinent.  Lady B. 
Ridiculous.  All. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.  Bel. 
I hope your Ladyship will give me leave to wish you Joy, since you have owned your Marriage yourself.  
Mr. Heartfree: I vow 'twas strangely wicked in you, to think of another Wife, when you had one already so Charming as her Ladyship.  All. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.  Lady F. 
aside Confusion seize 'em as it seizes me.  Madamois. 
Que le Diable e toute ce Maraut de Razor.  Bel. 
Your Ladyship seems disordered: A Breeding Qualm, perhaps. Mr. Heartfree: Your Bottle of Hungry Water to your Lady. Why Madam, he stands as Unconcerned, as if he were your Husband in earnest  Lady Fancy. 
Your Mirth's as nauseous as yourself Bellinda.  
You think you triumph o'er a Rival now.  
Helas ma pavure fill●. Where e'er I'm Rival, there's no cause for Mirth. No, my poor Wretch; 'tis from another Principle I have acted. I knew that thing there would make so perverse a Husband, and you so impertinent a Wife; that left your mutual Plagues should make you both run Mad, I charitably would have broke the Match. He, he, he, he, he. Exit laughing affectedly. Mademoiselle following her.  Madamois. 
He, he, he, he, he.  All. 
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.  Sir john. 
[aside.] Why now this Woman will be married to somebody too.  Bel. 
Poor Creature, what a Passion she's in: But I forgive her.  Heart. 
Since you have so much goodness for her, I hope you'll Pardon my Offence too, Madam.  Bel. 
There will be no great difficulty in that, since I am guilty of an equal Fault.  Heart. 
Then Pardons being passed on all Sides, Pray let's to Church to conclude the Day's Work.  Const. 
But before you go, let me treat you pray with a Song, a new married Lady made within this Week; it may be of use to you both.  

SONG.  

1.  
WHen yielding first to Damon's flame  
I sunk into his Arms,  
He swore he'd ever be the same,  
Then rifl'd all my Charms.  
But fond of what he'd long desired,  
Too greedy of his Prey,  
My Shepherd's flame, alas, expired  
Before the Verge of Day.   

2.  
My Innocence in Lovers Wars,  
Reproached his quick defeat.  
Confused, Ashamed, and Bathed in Tears,  
I mourned his Cold Retreat.  
At length, Ah Shepherdess, cried he,  
Would you my Fire renew,  
Alas you must retreat like me,  
I'm lost if you pursue.    Heart. 
So Madam; Now had the Parson but done his Business—  Bel. 
You'd be half weary of your Bargain.  Heart. 
No sure, I might dispense with one Night's Lodging.  Bel. 
I'm ready to try, Sir.  Heart. 
Then Let's to Church:  
And if it be our Chance, to disagree,—  Bel. 
Take heed:— The surly Husband's Fate you see.  
FINIS.   

Books lately Printed for, and Sold by Richard Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard.  

VAde Mecum, or a Necessary Companion; Containing, Sir Samuel Morland's Perpetual Almanac. Readily showing, 1. The Day of the Month, Movable Feasts, and Terms, for any Years past, present, or to come. 2. A Table of the Years of each King's Reign since the Conquest. 3. Directions for what should be done Monthly, in Orchard, Kitchen, and Flower-Gardens. 4. The Reduction of Weights, Measures and Coins, with a Table of the Assize of Bread. 5. A Table wherein any Number of Farthings, Halfpences, Pence or Shillings, are ready Cast up, of great Use to all Traders. 6. The Interest and Rebate of Money; the Forbearance, Discompt, and Purchase of Annuities. 7. The Rate of Post-Letters, both Inland and Out-land, 8. An Account of the Peny-Post. 9 The Principal Roads in England; showing the Distance from one Town to another, in Measured and Computed Miles, and the Distance of each from London; also the Market-Towns on each Road, with the Days of the Week the Markets are kept on, with the Hundred and County each Town stands in. 10. The Names of the Counties, Cities, and Borough-Towns in England and 〈◊〉, with the Number of Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses to Serve in Parliaments. The Usual and Authorised Rates of Coachmen, Carmen, and Watermen.  
A Discourse of the Nature and Faculties of Man, in several Essays, with Reflections on the Occurrences of Humane Life; By Tim. Nourse, Gent.  
The true Preserver and Restorer of Health; being a Choice Collection of Select and Experienced Remedies, for all Distempers incident to Men, Women and Children; together with Excellent Directions for Cookery: Also, for Preserving, and Conserving and Making all sorts of Cherry-Wine, Cider, Metheglin, etc.  
The Works of that Excellent Practical Physician, Dr. Tho. Sydcaham; Faithfully Englished by john Peachy, of the College of Physicians.  
A General Treatise of the Diseases of Infants and Children, Collected from the most Eminent Authors; By john Peachey, of the College of Physicians.  
Familiar Letters, Written by john late Earl of Rochester, to the Honourable Henry Savile, and other Persons of Quality, with Love-Letters, by Mr. Otway, and several Letters Written by Mrs. Phillip's and Mr. Thomas Brown.  
The Gauger's Practice, or the Practical Way how to Gauge and Inch Brewess Tune, with the Gauging of Casks, according to the true Rule● of Art, with a Table of Cylenders in Ale Gallons, and Centesimal Parts, from 8 to 60 inches in Diameter, and 31 Inches in Depth. By George Ward, Philomath. Printed for Richard Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard.    

Plays lately Printed and Sold by Richard Wellington, at the Lute in St. Paul's Churchyard.  

SPanish Wives.  
Younger Brother, or Amorous Jilt.  
Old Bachelor.  
Unnatural Brother.  
Agnes de Castro.  
Rover.  
Relapse, or Virtue in Danger.  
Rule a Wife and have a Wife.  
Country Wife.  
Rehearsal.  
Anatomist, or Shame Doctor.  
Cyrus' the Great, or the Tragedy of Love.  
Don Quixot, Three Parts complete.  
Roman Bride's-Revenge.  
Marriage-Hater Matched.  
Country Wake.  
Neglected Virtue.  
Pyrrhus' King of Epirus.  
Very Good Wife.  
Woman's Wit..  
She Gallants.  
Sullen Lovers.  
Humourist.  
Macbeth.  
Timon of Athens.  
Oedipus.  
Ibrahim the 13 th'. Emperor of the Turks.  
Heir of Morocco.  
Canterbury Guests.  
Lost Lover, or Jealous Bridegroom.  
Pausanias.  
Loves a Jest.  
Brutus of Alba.  
Plain-Dealer.  
Othello.  
Sir Courtly Nice.  
Earl of Essex.  
All for Love.  
Squire of Alsatia.  
Devil of a Wife.  
Lancashire Witches.  
Cleomenes.  
Don Sebastian.  
Abdelazor, or the Moor's Revenge  
Pastor Fido.  
Country Wit..  
Love for Money.  
Conquest of Granada.  
Cheats.  
Titus Andronicus.  
City Politics.  
Debauchee, or Credulous Cuckold.  
Venice Preserved.  
Rival Queens.  
Villain.  
Theodosius.  
Sir Antony Love, or the Rambling Lady.  
Princess of Cleves.  
Antony and Cleopatra.  
Disappointment.  
Fond Husband.  
Mithridates.  
Caesar Borgia.  
Woman Captain.  
Rival Ladies.  
Wives Excuse.  
Sir Solomon, or the Cautious Coxcomb.   
Where you may be Furnished with all Sorts of PLAYS.