THE Adventures OF COVENT-GARDEN, In Imitation of Scarron's City Romance.  
Et quorum pars Magna fui.  
LONDON, Printed by H. Hills, for R. Standfast, next Door to the Three Tunn Tavern just within Temple Barr. 1699.   

THE DEDICATION.  
To all my Ingenious Acquaintance at Will's Coffeehouse.  
Gentlemen,  
I am.  
Your most Devoted, most Obedient, and most Faithful humble Servant.   

TO THE READER.  
MY Dedication looks very Blank upon the Matter, and 'tis no Wonder, since I expect no Present for it. But I may venture to say, that no Dedication was ever less Fulsom and Tedious, though none can deny that I have given my Patrons a very fair Character. The Severe and Judicious may quarrel at me for Innovation in this Affair; but since the greatest Critic of our Age has Published a Dedication without denominating his Patron, so the least has ventured to ascribe his Patrons, and leave out the Dedication.  
I have some few things to say in Relation to the Author, and touching the Book; the Author is a Person admired by the Ladies for his Discretion and Secrecy, as you may easily imagine by these Means he has chosen to confirm their good Opinion of him; and to make the Secret yet closer, he has let it lose among the Wits, who will so Chase it about Covent-Garden; but I question whether they ever Hunt it into the right Burrough. If ye are so good Philosophers as to find out the Author by a Negative Definition take it; he's neither Collierist, nor Poet, neither Aesop of Tunbridge, nor Aesop of Bath, nor the Dragon of Bow, nor the Grasshopper at the Exchange; and for an Englishman not to belong to any of these Factions, is somewhat strange.  
As to the Book, 'tis for the most part, matter of Fact, and all Transacted within these Three Months. The Critics may perhaps quarrel with me for breaking Unity of Time; for (say they) if an Heroic Poem must be limited to the space of Twelve Months, a Novel by the rule of Proportion should be confined to One. But I can urge enough in my defence; perhaps I was very Young when I writ it, or Recovering from a fit of Sickness; perhaps I was very Old and near my great Climacterick; perhaps I write it in haste, or perhaps 'tis my first Essay.  
Now, Gentlemen, I have given you Pick and Choice of the most Fashionable Excuses, and if you are not satisfied, I think unreasonable.  
Some may ask what I had to do with the Church and Stage in my Novel? Truly I have as little to do with either of them as any Wit among Ye, let them fight Dog, fight Bear, for me. But because I would make my Book Beau, I thought it convenient to Equip him with an Air of the Times, and make him Chat on the most Modish Subject. As another Addition to his Finery, I have given him a Description of Night. This was altogether worn about Ten years ago, and may do well enough still for a Change. I build this Allegory of Foppery upon the Authority of a famous Modern, who certainly designed his Description of Night for a Beau-Wig to his Piece, as may appear by this Line.  
And Night's Black-Locks all Powdered o'er with Stars.  
Some may accuse me for servile imitation of my Neighbours in this Description. Faith, I have a great mind to imitate Them very closely now by Valuing myself upon it however.  
Tou must not in this Piece expect any Wit, for that is grown too Dangerous and Scandalous since the Act against Immorality and Profaneness; besides, being within the City Liberties, I must not venture to be Facetious, till I know whether the New Lord M— r is Dragon, Grasshopper, or what other Animal.  
As for my imitating Scarron, I confess 'tis not Copia vera, as many draw their Imitations, but there is something as Odd in this Gentleman's Writings, as there was in Person, which may puzzle an Author as much as a Painter to delineate him. There are some turns of Plot in the following Adventures that may seem incredible, but this very strangeness to any considerate Person will appear the most convincing Proof of their Truth; for unless they had really passed, I could never have thought of 'em.  
One word to Emilia, and then— She only knows the Author, whom if she discovers, he certainly discovers her; there's a Rowland for her Oliver: her Character is drawn by so favourable a Hand, that it will make her Cunning more admired, than her Falsehood hated. My Love has still added a pleasing gloss to her worst Designs, and amidst my severest Reflections on her Deceit, I have never forgot the Respect due to her as a fair Lady: Yet if she will be Angry, let her take what follows.   

THE Adventures OF COVENT-GARDEN.  
A Young Gentleman somewhat addicted to Poetry and the Diversions of the Stage, standing one Evening behind the Scenes in Drury-lane Playhouse, was accosted with a Message by the Doorkeeper, that a Lady in the Entrance desired to speak with him; he readily obeyed the Charge, but was strangely surprised to be saluted by a Voice well known to him, and a Person whom he imagined in another Kingdom (one whom he passionately loved) and whose absence he much regretted; their Joys were mutual at the Interview, but his the greater, because heightened by surprise and unexpectancy; for Heaven's sake, Madam (said the Spark in a transport) is your Husband dead? and may I hope at last that you are mine; The Lady answered only by a deep Sigh, and conducting him to the Coach which waited for her, she gave him the following account. You may remember, my dear Peregrine, (said she) that constrained by the Rigour of covetous Parents, who consulted my Fortune, not Inclinations, I broke my Vows and Protestations to you and married Richly. Revive not the fatal remembrance (answered Peregrine) which occasioned me so much misery, forcing me thro' grief to leave the Kingdom, and come hither for London, but rather declare the cause which so happily has Blest me now with your Presence so far beyond my hopes. Alas Sir, replied Emilia, why should you doubt the occasion, knowing yourself and knowing me? how could I rest in the Embraces of Another, whilst nothing but a narrow Sea parted me from my dear Peregrine. I gave my friends the satisfaction to see me married to Richly, but did myself the Justice to live with none but my Dearest— with which words pressing his Hand, and letting her Head fall with a Sigh in his Bosom, she murmured out the rest in a Language which Lovers only understand. The Coach stopped in Bow-street Covent-Garden, where the Lady had taken Lodgings. Pereg. was a little startled to find himself exactly opposite to a House wherein dwelled a Lady whom he Courted; for being advised, that the only cure for the loss of an old Mistress is a new one, and his Fortune being very much weakened by expense of Travel, he had pitched on the aforesaid Lady of a considerable Fortune and good Family, to relieve his decayed Estate by marrying her; He had won pretty far on the Lady's Inclinations, and Acted the Lover so well and so frequently, that he had almost made it habitual to him, and through pure strength of imagination did almost believe her as captivating as his former Mistress; but it was only a fancy, for he soon forgot all his Passion at the first sight of Emilia; and his wavering Affection, like a lesser Light, was soon swallowed in the appearance of a greater; he conducted Emilia to her Chamber, where they spent an Hour or Two, pleasantly repeating the Adventures of their past Courtship, and now and then making protestations to improve the future. How strangely ridiculous are Lovers! this Lady had been the greatest cause of many misfortunes to him, and he had substantial reasons to believe, the rigour of her Parents was only urged as an excuse to break with him; a reasonable Person would have considered her as a Renegado from her lawful Husband, and might had some regard to the Protestations made to the virtuous Lady, and the improvement of his Fortune; I doubt not but the Gentleman's reason, which was of the ripest growth, suggested all these considerations to him; but alas, that Ingenuity which showed him his error, plunged him the deeper in it; the Charms of his Emilia were so heightened by his creative fancy, his Wit loooking through the Perspective of his Love, showed all things so Charming that nothing but Passion could predominate; and certainly the most ingenious Men are the most liable to the Snares of the Fair; whether it be that their Intellects are more fine, and therefore more adapted for the reception of the subtle Passion, or being more subject to Vanity, may easily through a sense of their merit be drawn into a belief of their being beloved, and consequently the more easily cheated.  
However it was, Peregrine went away the most pleased Man alive, and coming to his Club at the Rose, surprised the Company with the Extravagancy of his Mirth; no less than Bumpers would go down, and all to his Mistress' health; there was none of the company disposed to comply with his humour, but a Captain, who swearing a bloody Oath that put his Scarlet out of countenance, declared he would Drink for his Mistress as much as Peregrine should for his Guts, and Dam (continued he) I have got the prettiest, kindest creature, and she is newly come to Town; but what is yet stranger, I have not yet enjoyed her, though I have seen her twice. I should think it more strange (said Peregrine) if you ever enjoy her, if she be one that values her Reputation. Zounds (cried the Captain) you look like an honest Fellow, and I'll tell you a secret; My Mistress is the prettiest Lady in England, and she Lodges hard by in Bow-street. The whole Company, who knew that Peregrine Courted a Lady in Bow-street, burst out a Laughing, and one of them asked the Captain where abouts his Mistress lived? About the middle of the Street, (replied he) which increased the Laughter all about the Table. Here appeared another Caprice in the humour of our Lover: Peregrine, who just now had forgot and laid by all thoughts of his former Mistress, had his passion renewed by the apprehension of a Rival, and his Flame like other Fire, meeting with opposition, began to rage more furiously; he asked the Captain what encouragement he had received, to authorize him to call that Lady Mistress? Only this (said the Captain) that I am beloved by her above all Men in the World, for which I have her own Declaration. Peregrine being sensible how far a Laced Coat and Feathers usually work upon the Female Sex, was very uneasy, and calling a Reckoning left the Company.  
Next Morning he went to Emilia's Lodgings, but 'twas answered by the House that she was gone abroad; he repeated his Visit in the Afternoon with no better success; three or four Days he continued to wait upon her thus, but could never find her at home: The Lady over the way had perceived him to go frequently thither, and hearing that a strange Lady lodged there, began to entertain some Jealous thoughts of him, she therefore ordered a Footman to watch him at his next coming, and to tell him that she desired to speak with him; the Message was delivered accordingly, and he waited on Selinda. Sir (said she) I was afraid that you had mistaken my Lodgings, by your frequent calling at another House so near me, and therefore I sent my Servant to set you right. He was wakened from his sweet Dream of Emilia by so just a charge; but the words of the Captain coming in his Head, Madam (said he) I saw the Sign of a Laced Coat hung out at your House, which occasioned my mistaking it. The Lady desiring him to explain his Expression, he plainly told her what the Captain said; she assured him by very convincing reasons, that she knew no such Person, and implicitly hinted to him, that if he were the Lover he pretended, it lay upon him to make the Blockhead beg her Pardon. Peregrine needed no such instigation, for by this it appeared to him that the Captain's words were out of a dull design of affronting him, and vowing Revenge would have immediately gone to have put it in Execution. The Lady dreading the blustering title of Captain, and fearing to Expose Peregrine, whom she really Loved, detained him, by a pretence of his Accompanying her to Bartholemew-Fair, whether she designed to go that Evening to Raffle; he could not decline waiting on her, and suspended therefore his intended resentments. The Lady's Coach was got ready, and they went to the Cloisters, where they Joined in with some very good Company to Raffle, among which was my Lord C— who had a Lady Masked with him, and whom he entertained with some Respect, yet mixed with a little Familiarity: The first Piece of small value my Lord won, and presented to his Masked Lady; the second, worth Ten pound, Peregrine carried; not so glad for his Success, as Proud to make such a Present to his Mistress; he was turning towards her to Present it, when the Masked Lady with a careless motion, as if by accident, pulled off her Vizor, and showed him the Charming Face of his dear Emilia; she imagined, obliging him to know her was Claim sufficient to the China. Gods! how great was Peregrine's surprise! What a strange Dilemma was he brought to! all the rules of civility and good Manners, nay even gratitude, obliged him to give the Present to Selinda whom he had waited on to the Fair, nay, the Company had already begun to congratulate her success in that of the Gentleman; But Emilia, the charming Emilia, that held his Heart, detained his Hand; he had long since made her a Present of his Soul, and who now could stand in competition with her for any thing else: He never had such occasion for his Wits to bring him off, but finding no Expedient readier, he pretending a Slip let the China fall, and broke it, and feigning a dissatisfaction for the Loss, would throw no more: Both the Ladies were well enough pleased, each imagining that he was vexed upon her score, supposing he intended it for her, which he purposely broke, lest he should oblige either by the displeasure of the other.  
But Pereg. trouble was not here at an end, he saw his Emilia, who so lately and so lovingly caressed him, entertained by a Nobleman, and one of the greatest Gallants in England; but what would have destroyed another's affection, only increased his; he took a secret Pride in Rivalling so great a Man, and it confirmed his great opinion of Emilia's beauty, to see her Admired by so accomplished a Person and absolute Courtier as my Lord C— These considerations augmenting his Love, increased his Jealousy also, and every little Familiarity that my Lord used, heightened his Love to her, and hatred to his Lordship; he Loved her for being Admired by my Lord, yet hated my Lord for Loving her. He was obliged however to wait on Selinda home; besides he received no great encouragement from Emilia to prompt him to offer his Service, for she had not regarded him one Jot after he broke the China; he went Home strangely distracted, which Selïnda imagining it to proceed from his resentment against the Captain, minded no further than by advising him to desist, telling him that the aspersions of a Fool are never minded, unless the Person aspersed takes notice of them. He went Home never the more satisfied, and resolving to quit himself of one trouble immediately, he writ the following Note.  
SIR,  
YOUR words at the Tavern the other night seem purely designed to affront me, since I am now satisfied they could be grounded on no other Foundation; if you dare repeat them, meet me behind Montague House to morrow Morning at Six, where only I can give you a proper answer,  
Yours, Peregrine.  
This Letter he gave to a Porter, with orders to deliver it to Captain— at his Lodgings, or if he were abroad to find him out, and to deliver it into his own Hand.  
Peregrine rose early next Morning and came to the place appointed▪ and walked about full of serious thoughts upon his Adventure, reflecting on the many inconveniences contracted by women's conversation▪ he remembered that the greatest disquiets of his Life had proceeded from Female causes, and found himself that very Moment at the very brink of Destruction, involved in an unavoidable Dilemma of falling by the Sword, or dying by the Law, and all upon a Woman's score; he found, that had he never Loved Woman, he had never hated Man, and had he never owned a Mistress, he had never feared an Enemy. The apprehensions of so many dangers past and to come, occasioned chiefly by his fatal Emilia, began somewhat to alienate his affection, which backed by his suspicion of her falsehood, confirmed him in a resolution of weaning himself for the future from so childish a Passion. He walked thus ruminating above two hours, but no news of the Captain, and he was pretty well pleased not to meet his Adversary, being now convicted of the unreasonable grounds of his quarrel: Being upon serious reflections convinced, that the Captain's words might have intended some other besides his Mistress, since he did not name Selinda, and that she had assured him, she knew no such Man. He left the Field, established in these Three calm Resolutions, First, for ever to avoid Emilia's company which had been so fatal; Secondly, to beg the Captains pardon, when he first met him; and Lastly, to promote his Marriage with Selinda as speedily as he could. But here behold the strange weakness of a Lover, his Inclinations must lead him by Emilia's Lodgings as he passed homewards, and he gave this excuse to his reason, that he would by that means try the firmness of his resolve, in passing by her Lodgings without looking once at her Window; Walking therefore down Bow-street, when he was just opposite to the House, his foolish wavering fancy suggested, that there could be no harm in looking up to her Window, since he believed she stood not there; yet to what end should any reasonable Man but a Glazier look at a Window, when he expected no body at it. He never the less cast up his Eye, and behold how he was paid for his peeping.  
Instead of the dear Casement which he only hoped to see, he discovered Monsieur the Captain with his formidable Laced Coat standing out of the Window, and his beloved Emilia standing familiarly by him.  
Now for our Sparks Resolutions, reason would have obliged him to continue them now stronger, for he had a new instance of Emilia's falsehood, and of the truth of the Captain's words, but the sight wrought a clear contrary effect; he found himself now touched in the tenderest part, and the Captain's Expressions which he could bear when the Company supposed them Applied to Selinda, he could not suffer now he found them meant of Emilia, Gods (cried he out) shall I be outrivalied by a Fool in the affection of one as Admirable for her sense as for her Beauty; though the Coward durst not meet me at the place appointed, he will certainly resent an affront in his Mistress' presence, which may afford me revenge of both. Hereupon he comes to the Door, and opening it without any Ceremony, comes madly up, but was met upon the Stairs by Emilia; who running to him, caught him in her tender Arms, saying. My dear Peregrine, how have I longed to see You? and what have I done to Merit this strangeness of Yours? She went to Kiss him, but he hearing a Person pass down Stairs by him, looked about, and saw it was only a Porter. O my dearest (concluded she) I am overjoyed that you're come so opportunely for my relief; for I have been pestered these Five or six Days incessantly by my Lord C— who has sent just now to know if I am at leisure to receive a visit. I suppose Madam (answered Peregrine) that you are not at leisure, for you have Company above Stairs. None that shall detain me from entertaining you (replied she.) Madam, answered Peregrine, you shall not prevent me from entertaining him by all your Artifices; for by Heavens I'll pull off his Lion's Skin, and show the Ass in his own Colours. Who do you mean pray Sir (said she) a Coward in the King's Livery? Madam, your Captain above. A Captain! replied Emilia, ha, ha, ha, I'll behanged if you have not mistaken my Lord's Footman for an Officer, ha, ha, ha, a very good Jest, poor Peregrine, you have not rubbed the Sleep out of your Eyes this Morning. Truly Madam (said Peregrine) your behaviour makes me doubt that I am Awake. No, no, (replied she) you are Dreaming, as I shall convince you; and leading him up into her Chamber, Is this your Captain? Peregrine was strangely amazed to find a very Sheepish Fellow leaning on the Window with a Laced Coat on, which he imagined the Captains. The occasion of which Metamorphosis was this.  
The Porter which Peregrine employed the Night before to carry the Challenge to the Captain, heard at his Lodgings that the Captain would not be at home till it was late, and the poor Fellow being tired with trudging about all Day, and supposing it sufficient to deliver it in the Morning, went home to his Rest, and came accordingly in the Morning, where he was told by the Captain's Servant, that his Master lay abroad all Night, but that he had appointed to meet him about two Hours hence at the Black-posts next door to the— in Bow-street. The Porter accordingly went thither, and found the Captain in Emilia's Chamber, and had delivered him the Note just as Peregrine had looked up at the Window. At the same instant Emilia spied him, and with great surprise cried out. O Lord; Sir, I am Ruined. The Captain asked what was the matter? O (said she) dear Sir, yonder's my Husband, who has seen you, and if we find not a device to impose upon him, he will Murder me. What shall we do (said the Captain) not all the Stratagems in the Art Military can save us. But I have one Stratagem in the Art of Love shall do, said she; Strip, strip, Sir, immediately, change clothes with the Porter. The Captain very willing to oblige the Lady, obeyed her Commands, and equipped the Porter immediately, and putting on the Porter's Coat, Frock, and Apron, slunk down Stairs by Peregrine undiscovered, leaving the gaudy Porter in Emilia's Chamber; which so much occasioned Peregrine's wonder. He had the demonstration of his Eyes that it was the Captain but some Minutes before, and now by the same Evidence it appears that it is not he. This is all Illusion (said Peregrine in a Consternation.) Illusion! (replied Emilia) I little thought that Peregrine could have such ill thoughts of Me, as to believe I would entertain an Officer at this Hour in my Chamber. Truly Madam (answered Peregrine) though Love be blind, I don't think Jealousy is so, and though women's Beauty depends on our fancy, their Virtue does not; we rightly can Judge of that, though not of t'other. Sir (said Emilia) you have never received any proofs of my immodesty, though many of my Love, and I therefore think it both ingratitude and injustice in you to tax my Virtue, which you ought to defend, since you are sensible it has held out even against you whom I so dearly loved, and who (I thought) loved me, but I find now too late that I have been mistaken; upon which she burst out in Tears. Go back Sir (said she to the Porter) and tell your Lord that I begin to suspect his designs upon me for vicious; alas, I am unacquainted with the Tricks of this City, and did not imagine that a Nobleman could have any base designs upon a Poor Woman's Honour; go quickly to him, I say, and bid him never trouble me again, for he has made me already an unfortunate Woman. With which words she Wept most bitterly. O the bewitching Charms of Womankind, that even their weaknesses should conquer our strongest Resolves! how easily is vain Man drawn into a belief of his being beloved! We take forty Declarations of their indifference or hatred for effects only of their Modesty, but the first confession of their Love we presently Credit; when, alas, their profession of the Latter is often as false, as of Former: But what can't moving Tears of weeping Beauty melt. Love in gaiety may take, but Love in Mourning only truly wounds. The poor relenting Peregrine fell at her Feet, weeping as fast as She.  
The servant Lover Sighed, and Wept, and Swore,  
That he would ne'er distrust her Virtue more.  
About her Knees he Clinged with amorous Bands.  
And pressed his Vows upon her Lips and Hands.  
She often did her Damon, Faithless call,  
At last with sullen Cooing pardoned all.  
He ravished rose, and Clasped the yielding Fair;  
His bounding Joy sprung higher from Despair.  
He Sealed his Pardon with an endless Kiss,  
If there be Ecstasy in Love, 'tis this.  
Behold how suddenly the Scheme is turned, the poor deluded Peregrine imagines his Mistress a Lucretia; all his former resolutions are melted in her Bosom, whilst she, innocent creature, murmurs at his unkindness, checking and caressing him at the same time, to show how easily her Love conquered her resentments. He at last left her, and passing out of the Door, espied the Captain in the Porter's Habit standing at the entrance; he had stayed there waiting Peregrin's departure, resolving upon that to return to Emilia, and with her to Laugh at the Cuckold, as he imagined him; who had most occasion to Laugh, we shall find presently. Peregrine immediately knew the Frock and Porter's clothes, and the Captain being of somewhat a Porterly shape, he made no doubt but it was the same Fellow he had employed last Night to carry the Challenge to the Captain, and immediately asked how he had delivered his Message. The Captain ignorant of the matter, could make no direct answer; which incensing Peregrine, Sirrah (said he) resolve me instantly or I'll break your Head, Rascal. The Officer unused to such words, began to mumble something saucily. Upon which, without any further ceremony, he raps the poor Captain over the Head and Shoulders very smartly with his Cane. The Captain roared out, Blood and Wounds immediately. Upon which Peregrine redoubled his strokes and liquored his Buff most abundantly, till some Gentlemen of Peregrine's acquaintance took him off, and carried him to Wills Coffee-house. The poor Captain miserably beaten, was clear off the Laughing pin; and coming up stairs to Emilia, enquired for his clothes immediately. She answered, she had sent the Porter down stairs to him; but the Porter was no such Fool, for finding himself so richly Rigged, he slipped out of the back Door, and was never heard off after. The poor Captain foamed and chafed outrageously at these abuses, and went to sculk home as speedily as he might, to equip himself in another Suit; he went through all the blind Alleys and Lanes that he could, for fear of meeting any of his acquaintance; out when he got pretty near his Lodgings, it was his bad fortune in one of these by-places to pass by the House where the Porter lived; his Wife accidentally stood at the Door, who knowing her Husband's clothes, presently laid hold of him, crying ●ut, that the Villain had Murdered ●er Husband and stripped him of his clothes; her noise presently raised the Mobb, who flocking about the unfortunate Captain, began to lug and hale him most unsufferably; he cried out with a Voice loud enough to give the Word of Command, that he was an Officer, a Captain, etc. A mighty Butcher with a swelled Face of Authority advances, and desires to see his Commission; but that was gone in the Pocket of his embroidered Waistcoat. Some disbanded Rogue (cries the Butcher) that's now forced to live by cutting Throats; away with him, away with him before a Magistrate. The poor Captain ran the Gauntlet most wretchedly till he came to the House of Justice M— in Drury-lane, who upon the Oath of the Porter's Wife, and some of her creditable Neighbours, drew his Mittimus in order for Newgate. Worse and worse! what must poor Buff do? he must now discover himself to his Friends for Bail, and so be made the Jest of the whole Town; he called the Justice aside, and told him the whole story. The Magistrate answered, unless the Porter could be found, that the Law would oblige him to his Trial at the Old-Bayly, and that he must be bound over to answer at the next Sessions, and accordingly he was so.  
Peregrine losing a very good Jest by his ignorance in this affair, goes next Evening to the Play; where meeting some of his ingenious acquaintance, viz. Mr. W— Mr. H— Mr. M— with others of that Club, there arose a discourse concerning the Battle between the Church and the Stage, with relation to the Champions that mantained the parties; the result upon the matter was this, that Mr. Collier showed to much Malice and rancour for a Churchman, and his Adversaries too little wit; for the Character of Poets, that their faults transversed would show much better; Dulness being more familiar with those of Mr. Collier's Function, as Malice and ill nature is more adapted to the Professor● of wit. That the best way of answering Mr. Collier, was not to have replied at all: for there was so much Fire in his Book, had not his Adversaries thrown in Fuel, it would have fed upon itself, and so have gone out in a Blaze. As to his respondents, that Captain Valerio— wrote too like a Gentleman to be esteemed a good Casuist; that Mr. C—'s passion in this business had blinded his reason, which had shone so fair in his other Writings; that Mr. S—le wanted the wit of Captain Valerio— as much as he did Mr. Settle's gravity; That the two Answers to Mr. C— have done his Book too much honour, but themselves too great an Injury: In short, upon the whole matter, that whoever gained the Victory, the Stage must lose by it, being so long the seat of the War; And unless Mr. Dryden, or Mr. Wicherly remove the combustion into the Enemy's Country, the Theatre must down. And the end of this War will be attended by cashicring the Poets, as the last Peace was by disbanding the Army.  
Their discourse continued till the Play began, when Peregrine spying his Mistress Selinda in a front Box, was obliged to leave his Friends to entertain her. This Lady had a great share of Sense, and was mightily pleased with what the Fair Sex call fine things, which, that Play, being the Indian Emperor, was plentifully stored with. Peregrine was so much a Courtier as to Join with her in the Applause, but being of a critical humour, he could not forbear making some severe remarks on the Drama, and inconsistencies of Plots. You Critics (said Selinda) make a mighty sputter about exactness of Plot, unity of time, place, and I know not what, which I can never find do any Play the least good. (Peregrine smiled at her Female ignorance.) But she continued, I have one thing to offer in this dispute, which I think sufficient to convince you; I suppose the chief design of Plays is to please the People, and get the Playhouse and Poet a Livelihood. You must pardon me Madam, (replied Peregrine) Instruction is the business of Plays. Sir (said the Lady) make it the business of the Audience First to be pleased with Instruction, and then I shall allow you it to be the chief end of Plays. But suppose Madam (said he) that I grant what you lay down. Then Sir (answered she) you must allow that what ever Plays most exactly Answer this aforesaid end, are the most exact Plays. Now I can instance you many Plays, as all those by Shakespeare and Johnson, and the most of Mr. Dryden's, which you Critics quarrel at as irregular, which nevertheless still continue to please the Audience, and are a continual support to the Theatre; there's very little of your Unity of time or place in any of them, yet they never fail to Answer the proposed end very successfully. Besides Sir, I have heard yourself say, that Poetry is purely an imitation of Nature; what business then can Art pretend in the affair? O Madam, (Answered Peregrine) this Art is only the improvement or perfection of Nature, and is used in Poetry, as Geometrical Lines in Painting do delineate the piece to an exact Model or Form. Then certainly (replied the Lady) these rules are ill understood, or our Nature has changed since they were made; for we find they have no such effects now as they had formerly. For Instance, I am told the (Double Dealer) and, (Plot and no Plot) are two very exact Plays, as you call them, yet all their Unity of Time, Place, and Action, neither pleased the Audience, nor got the Poet's Money. A late Play too called (Beauty in Distress) in which the Author, no doubt, sweat as much in confining the whole Play to one Scene, as the Scene-Drawers should were it to be changed a hundred times; this Play had indeed a commendatory Copy from Mr. Dryden, but I think he had better have altered the Scene, and pleased the Audience; in short had these Plays been a little more exact, as you call it, they had all been exactly Damned. Peregrine would have answered, but a pluck by the Sleeve obliged him to turn from Selinda to entertain a Lady Masked, who had given him the Nudg; he presently knew her to be Emilia, who whispered him in the Ear, I find Sir, what Guyomar said just now is very true, 
That Love which first took Root will first Decay,  
That of a fresher date, will longer stay.   
Peregrine, though surprised, was pleased with her pretty Reprimand, being delivered without any Anger, but in murmuring complaining Accents, which never fail to move; insomuch that he could not forbear demonstrating his satisfaction in such Terms and Behaviour, as rendered him remarkable to all about him; he quite forgot Selinda, and his Argument. And she endeavoured to forget him by remembering this Action of his; and though many slips occasioned by Passion are pardonable, yet when Love causes Offences against itself in default of good Manners towards the Fair, 'tis unexcusable. Had he used Emilia with that freedom and carelessness which Masks generally meet with in the Pit, Selinda would have imagined her familiarity with Peregrine to have only proceeded from a Pert and Impudent Behaviour, which such Creatures use with all Gentlemen; but he used something of a Fawning and Amorous respect to her, which raised Selinda's Jealousy to the highest pitch. But this was not all the Mischief occasioned by the Interview, for my Lord C— had that very Evening made an Assignation with Emilia at the Play, whether she came early; she beheld Peregrine with Indifference whilst he taulked among his Friends, nor had she the least Motion to discover herself to him; but spying him addressing a fine Lady in the Box, whom she perceived to entertain him with more than ordinary Civility, she felt a violent Inclination to interrupt him; She found by the Lady's freedom and gaiety in Discourse, that she was fond of Peregrine's conversation, and out of a pure malicious design would deprive her of it; She accomplished her design, Peregrine paid her an extraordinary respect, and she returned it with as much civility, purely to raise Selinda's Jealousy, whom she had now remembered to have seen twice with Peregrine; but the Poor Lady was caught in her own Net; for at the Instant of her greatest freedom with Peregrine, my Lord discovered her. He is the most Jealous Amourist in England, and to one of his temper, he saw enough to raise a distrust of his Mistress' discretion: Coming close up to her, he Whispered her, Madam, I am as good as my Appointment, but finding you better employed, I shan't be so rude as to interrupt you. Upon which she presently turned from Peregrine to my Lord. hay, pass, the Tides turned, and poor Peregrine's left upon the Sand; nay the Wind's turned too, for looking at Selinda he could see nothing but Storm and Tempest in her Brow. But he alone was not Shipwrackt, for poor Emilia ran the same fate; for she entertained my Lord with that earnestness, that it appeared how familiar she was still with his Lordship, which gave Peregrine a new proof of her falsehood, but was not sufficient to convince my Lord of her Integrity, so that the result upon the transactions of this Evening, was, that Selinda through Jealousy of the Masked Lady had discarded Peregrine; He Jealous of my Lord C— had forsaken Emilia; and she by her familiarity with Peregrine is deserted by his Lordship.  
But above all, Peregrine's trouble was much the greatest; he had lost the hopes of amending his Fortune by Marrying a virtuous Lady, and one whom he might reasonably suppose Loved him, and all through the means of a Person who ungratefully had abused his passion. A re- on the Weakness of his temper in not sticking to his resolutions, was no small affliction; but above all, the falsehood of his Emilia occasioned his distraction; he went to bed, hoping there to find that rest which his waking thoughts denied.  
The Night's black Curtain o'er the World was spread,  
And all Mankind lay Emblems of the Dead.  
A deep and awful silence, void of Light,  
With dusky Wings sat brooding o'er the Night.  
The rolling Orbs moved slow from East to West,  
With harmony that lulled the World to rest.  
The Moon withdrawn, the oozy Floods lay dead,  
The very Influence of the Moon was fled.  
Some twinkling Sars that through the Clouds did peep,  
Seeming to Wink as if they wanted sleep.  
All Nature hushed, as when dissolved, and laid  
In silent Chaos ere the World was made.  
Only the Beating of the Lover's Breast,  
Made noise enough to keep his Eyes from Rest.  
His little World, not like the greater, lay,  
In loudest Tumults of disordered Day.  
His Sun of beauty shone, to light his Breast,  
With all its various Toils and Labours pressed.  
The Sea of passion in his working Soul,  
Raised by the Tempest of his sighs did roll,  
In towering Floods to overwhelm the whole.  
Those Tyrants of the Mind, vain hope and fear,  
That still by turns usurp an Empire there,  
Now raising Man on high, then plunging in despair.  
Thus Daman lies, his grief no rest affords,  
Till swelling high, it thus burst out in Words.  
Oh! I could Curse all Womankind but one,  
And yet my Griefs proceed from her alone.  
Hell's greatest Curse a Woman, if unkind,  
Yet Heavens great Blessing, if she Loves, we find.  
Thus our chief Joys with most allays are Cursed,  
And our best things when once corrupted, worst.  
But Heaven is just, ourselves the Idols framed,  
And are for such vain worship Justly damned.  
Thus the poor Lover argued with his fate,  
Emilia's charms now did his Love create,  
That Love replused now prompted him to hate.  
Sometimes his Arms would cross his Bosom rest,  
Hugging her lovely Image printed in his Breast.  
Where flattering Painter fancy showed his art,  
In charming draughts, his Pencil Cupid's Dart.  
The shadow drawn so Lively did appear,  
As made him think the real substance there.  
He thought her Naked, soft, and yielding Waste,  
Within his pressing Arms was folded fast,  
Nay, in her Charms she really there was placed.  
Else, how could Pleasure to such Raptures flow,  
The effect was real, than the Cause was so.  
What more can most substantial pleasure boast,  
Than Joy when present, Memory when past?  
Then bliss is real which the fancy frames,  
Or those called real Joys are only Dreams.  
Peregrine once more put on firm resolutions, not only of avoiding Emilia, but the whole Sex; but alas, such designs had been so often broken and patched up, that he could not expect they should last long; he rose fully resolved for the Country that Morning, hoping, that diversity of Company might wear off his trouble occasioned by the City conversation. He was just sending to take up a place in the Tunbridge-Coach, when a Messenger brought him a Letter; which he opening, was surprised to find come from Emilia; he expected to find it full of Recantations and Excuses for her Familiarity with my Lord C— and slighting him the Night before at the Play; but before he would venture to read the Charm, he thought it convenient to say his Prayers in the following Words: 
From Wit couched in Nonsense, which blinds all that Read,  
From conjuring Scrawls which like Magic invade,  
From words spelt as False as the Authors are made,  
Libera nos, etc.   
Then fully resolved to account all the contents as the Voice of a Siren that would destroy him, he Read with great amazement the following Words.  
Dear Peregine,  
BEing altogether a Stranger in Town, and destitute of Friends, I am compelled to be troublesome to you, whom I have no reason to believe will desert me in my Necessity; I have urgent occasion for Twenty or Thirty Guineas, which I beg you to send me by the Bearer, and you will infinitely oblige,  
Thursday Morning Yours Emilia.  
A very odd turn of affairs, I must confess! and wrought as strange a turn in the humour of our Lover. He quite forgot all thoughts of her Falsehood to deplore her Necessity, and the Scantiness of his own Fortune that confined him from relieving her. A foolish nicety of Honour suggested to him, that if he now forsook her, she would attribute his unkindness not to any fault of Hers, but reckon it a poor pretence for evading her Request. Here was an Instance of Female policy, here was a Stratagem to recover a lost Lover, that (I believe) the most intreagueing Devil could never suggest to contriving Woman before. She was afraid that his Love was so shocked by her behaviour, that she could not build a Reconciliation upon that; and therefore resolved to draw his Honour in, to make up the breach, being conscious that Ingenious Men are as fruitful in discovering Niceties in that, as Beauties in their Mistress, and sometimes as much to their Prejudice. But the depth of her Contrivance went yet further, as shall hereafter appear.  
Peregrine dismissed the Messenger with this Answer, That he would wait on the Lady immediately; and presently after, in his Riding suit, he went to her Lodgings, positively resolved to give her what Money he could spare, then upbraid her for her Falsehood, and so take his last farewell. He found her in an Undress sitting on her Beds-feet in a very Melancholy posture; her Nightgown carelessly lose discovered her Snowy Breast, which Agitated by the violence of her Sighs, heaved and fell with a most Languishing motion; her Eyes were fixed on the Ground, and without regarding Peregrine, she raised her Voice in a Mournful and moving sweetness, singing, Fool, Fool, that considered not when I was well, concluding which with a deep Sigh, she cast a complaining Look on Peregrine, intimating that he alone had occasioned her Sorrows. He beheld those enticing Beauties, that too well knew the way to his Heart; He beheld the moving Charms of Female Sorrow, artfully expressed in a careless Melancholy; and to all this, he heard that tuneful start of Grief which made his ravished Soul strike Unison with the complaining Harmony. Let those who have ever felt the pleasing follies of Love, now guess at our Lover's thoughts. Such will Pardon his weakness, being conscious of the force of so many united Charms. He begged to know the Cause of her great Grief, making all potestations (that Passion could suggest) of using his utmost endeavours in relieving her. Alas Peregrine (answered she) my Misfortunes are many, and all proceeding from so Dear an occasion, that I could wish them to continue, rather than think the Cause should cease. In short, (continued she Weeping) my Passion for you has drawn me into a necessity of being troublesome to one whose kindness will perhaps flow from a Principle of Charity, not Love. But Sir, (I scorn to be pitied; and if I can't merit your Esteem, I disdain to be an Object of your Compassion. Madam (replied he) my Charity may extend to share Superfluities, but no less motive than Love could engage me thus to distribute my necessaries. upon which he gave her Ten Guineas, leaving himself but One. Well, my dear Peregrine (says she) I am too sensible of the unhappiness of your Circumstances, and will therefore Trespass no further upon them: You shall only spare me some of your Love to lay out upon Another, and that shall pay the Ransom for your Money. Peregrine was strangely surprised at her Discourse! Be not startled, Sir, (said she) for a Proof of your Affection it must be so; I have long been Solicited by my Lord C— and have received some Presents from Him, and was in a fair way of Commanding what I pleased, had not my unlucky kindness to you at the Play last Night raised his Jealousy to that Degree, that he has forsaken me Now, Sir, since your circumstances debar you from recompensing the loss, I think you are obliged to be Instrumental to Me in recovering his Affection; but do not think (my Dearest) that he can ever destroy your Interest in my Heart, but rather heighten it, being a means to support that Love which the scantiness of your Fortune would Starve. Very reasonable Arguments to make Peregrine a downright Pimp! He was strangely Nettled, but being resolved to see the Utmost. How Madam (said he) can I be Instrumental in your Reconciliation with his Lordship? Only thus (Replied she) you must know he is wonderfully Charmed with Wit and Writing fine, in a Woman; now I am sensible you have an Excellent Talon in Epistolary Style, (which I must still remember since first your Charming Letters conquered me;) you must therefore write an Ingenious Letter for me, which I will Transcribe, and send to his Lordship, which will Infallibly reclaim him. But suppose Madam (said Peregrine) that my Lord discovers the difference of Style if you Write to him again? No, no (said she) you shall Answer all my Lords Letters for me. Peregrine immediately conceiving, that by this means he should see my Lord C—'s Letters, and thereby discover if the Intrigue went any further than he would have it, undertook the Task, and wrote a Letter which wrought the desired effect.  
My Lord was already captivated by Emilia's Beauty, but was not Lover enough to think the Nonsense of a Mistress, Wit; but this Letter, full of Passion and Ingenuity, fired him, he found what he so admired in a Lady, there expressed in a great degree, and immediately came to wait upon her.  
By this time Peregrine, much confused by the Odness of this Adventure had departed; and Emilia Received his Lordship in a contrary Humour to what she had shown to Peregrine, entertaining him with all the gaiety and briskness imaginable. My Lord not abating of his Jealous Humour, desired to know whom she entertained so freely at the Play. 'Tis a Creature, my Lord, (replied she) called a necessary Lover. I have often heard (said he) of a necessary Animal called a Husband, but never of a necessary Lover before. Such, my Lord, (said she) are of the same use to us, as a Husband to a Wife, to cover all our Faults. They defend our Honours in all Company, being possessed of a good Opinion of our Virtue; which Opinion once Established, we take all care to Improve. Methinks (answered he) your freedom with that Gentleman were enough to destroy that good Opinion, if he entertained any such before. No, my Lord said she) these are the Arts by which we secure them; for granting them all innocent Freedoms and Encouragement without the least Favour, makes them set a favourable construction upon such our Behaviour with others, and induces them to believe all Stories prejudicial to our Reputation rather the effects of men's Vanity, than our kindness: Besides, being once drawn into a belief of their being beloved by us, their Vanity suggests, that since we are Virtuous in respect of them, we must certainly be so in regard of those that are more indifferent to us. But that Gentleman, (Answered my Lord) if I am not Misinformed in his Character, has too much Sense to be made such a Tool of. Only Ingenious Men (answered she) are fit for our purpose, because such Persons are only able to Nourish a Passion without Enjoyment; Secondly, being conscious of their Merit they imagine our Love very real because of the worthiness of the Object; And Lastly, being the Oracles of the Age, their words are taken among their Friends, and our Reputation thus Established. My Lord C— was Amazed at this open Confession of cunning, which he had never discovered in the Sex before; and lest she should make the same Fool of him, he pressed hard for a Proof of the contrary, which I believe she granted, for he continued his Visits with great Assiduity.  
Peregrine all this while continued to Serve her with his Pen, and was very fond of Answering my Lords Letters, because he found them very Witty and Passionate; and having a good memory at retaining what pleased him, he generally by once or twice perusing, could remember them, verbatim; and constantly when he left Emilia, would write them down, together with the Answers very distinctly, with which he used to divert himself very often; for he found so much respect in all my Lords Letters, that he could not suppose his Lordship had made any Advances beyond him. But Emilia had forewarned my Lord of making the least mention of any her Favours, lest the Letter might Miscarry, and fall into Hands that might Publish her shame. By which Artifice secured, she continued her ingenious Correspondence with my Lord, which more and more engaged his Affections, without giving Peregrine any reasonable grounds of Jealousy. He often pressed for a Consummation of his Happiness; but she sticking to her Principles, tantalized him with Caresses and Protestations of her Love, and never wanted a Pretence for delay, until unfortunately she lost Him and herself on the following Occasion.  
One Morning three or four Gentlemen of the Law, Peregrine's Acquaintance, came running into his Chamber, and asked him to accompany them to the Old-Baily to hear the Trial. What Trial (answered he? Why, the famous Trial of Captain— who is Arraigned for Murdering a Porter. This was News to him, and he went with them. The Indictment was Read, and the Trial come on before they reached the Court; Peregrine was strangely surprised to hear Emilia's Voice at the Bar, and distrusting the truth of his Ears, could not be satisfied till he saw her; She was Summoned as a Witness for the Captain, where upon her Oath she was forced to declare how she made the Captain change clothes with the Porter in her Chamber, how she sent him down Stairs in the Porter's Habit, and how the Porter had gone off with His; in short, the whole Story, with all the Circumstances of the Intrigue, was discovered before the whole Court, and in Peregrine's hearing; who now fully Convicted of the Treachery of his Mistress by her own Oath, has once more put on firm Resolutions of ever forsaking her; and that he may draw my Lord C— out of the same Error, he has given a Copy of all my Lords Letter's and their Answers to a Friend of his, who immediately designs to publish a Collection of Letters, where his Lordship may read his own Wit, and the Falsehood of Emilia.  
FINIS.