The luckey chance, or, An alderman's bargain a comedy as is acted by their Majesty's servants / by Mrs. A. Behn.

ACT III.

SCENE I. Sir Feeble's House.

The Second Song before the Entry.

A SONG made by Mr. Cheek.

NO more Lucinda, ah! expose no more To the admiring World those conqu'ring Charms: In vain all day unhappy men adore, What the kind Night gives to my longing Arms. Their vain Attempts can ne'r successful prove, Whilst I so well maintain the Fort of Love.

Yet to the World with so bewitching Arts, Your dazling Beauty you around display, And triumph in the Spoyls of broken hearts, That sink beneath your feet, and crowd your way: Ah! suffer now your Cruelty to cease, And to a fruitless War prefers a Peace.

Enter Ralph with Light, Sir Feeble, and Belmour sad.

Sir Fee.

SO, so; the'r gone—Cme Francis, you shall have the Honour of Undressing me for the Encounter, but 'twill be a Sweet one, Francis.

Bel.

Hell take him, how he tezes me?

[Vndressing all the while.

Sir Feeb.

But is the young Rogue laid Francis—is she stoln to Bed? What Tricks the young Baggages have to whet a man's Appetite?

Bel.

Ay Sir—Pox on him—he will raise my Anger up to Madness, and I shall kill him, to prevent his going to Bed to her.

Sir Feeb.

A pise of those Bandstrings—the more Hast the less Speed.

Bel.

Be it so in all things, I beseech thee Venus?

Sir Feeb.

Thy Aid a little Francis—oh—oh—thou choakst me. 'Sbobs, what dost mean—

[Pinches him by the Throat.

Bel

You had so hamper'd 'em Sir—the Devil's very mis∣chievous in me.

[Aside.

Sir Feeb.

Come, come quick, good Francis, adod I'm as yare as a Hawk at the young Wanton—nimbly good Francis, untruss, untruss—

Bel.

Cramps seize ye—what shall I do—the near Approach distracts me!

Sir Feeb.

So, so, my Breeches, good Francis. But well Francis, how dost think I got the young Jade my Wife?

Bel.

With five hundred pounds a year Joynture Sir.

Sir Feeb.

No, that wou'd not do, the Baggage was damnably in love with a young Fellow, they call Belmour, a handsom young Ras∣cal he was they say, that's truth on't, and a pretty Estate, but hapning to kill a Man, he was forc'd to flye.

Bel.

That was great pity Sir.

Sir Feeb.

Pity, hang him Rogue, 'sbobs, and all the young Fel∣lows in the Town deserve it; we can never keep our Wives and Daughters honest for rampant young Dogs; and an old Fellow cannot put in amongst 'em, under being undone, with Presenting, and the Devil and all. But what dost think I did, being damnably in Love—I feign'd a Letter as from the Hague, wherein was a Relation of this same Belmour's being hang'd.

Bel.

Is't possible Sir, cou'd you devise such News?

Sir Feeb.

Possible man? I did it, I did it; she swoonded at the

News, shut her self up a whole Month in her Chamber; but I pre∣sented high; she sight and wept, and swore she'd never marry. Still I presented, she hated, loathed, spit upon me, still adod I pre∣sented! till I presented my self effectually in Church to her; for she at last wisely considered her Vows were cancell'd since Belmour was hang'd.

Bel.

Faith Sir, this was very cruel to take away his Fame, and then his Mistress.

Sir Feeb.

Cruel, thou'rt an Ass, we are but even with the brisk Rogues, for they take away our Fame, Cuckold us, and take away our Wives.—So, so, my Cap Francis.

Bel.

And do you think this Marriage lawful Sir?

Sir Feeb.

Lawful; it shall be when I've had Livery and Sei∣sin of her Body—and that shall be presently Rogue—quick—besides this, Belmour dares as well be hang'd as come into England.

Bel.

If he gets his Pardon Sir—

Sir Feeb.

Pardon, no, no, I have took care for that, for I have you must know got his Pardon already.

Bel.

How Sir, got his Pardon, that's some amends for robbing him of his Wife.

Sir Feeb.

Hold honest Francis; what dost think 'twas in Kind∣ness to him? no you Fool, I got his Pardon my self, that no body else should have it, so that if he gets any Body to speak to his Ma∣jesty for it, his Majesty crys he has granted it; but for want of my Appearance, he's defunct, trust up, hang'd Francis.

Bel.

This is the most excellent Revenge I ever heard of.

Sir Feeb.

Ay, I learnt it of a great Politician of our Times.

Bel.

But have you got his Pardon?—

Sir Feeb.

I've don't, I've don't; Pox on him, it cost me five hun∣dred pounds tho! here 'tis, my Solicitor brought it me this Eve∣ning.

[Gives it him.

Bel.

This was a lucky Hit—and if it scape me, let me be hang'd by a Trick indeed.

Sir Feeb.

So, put it into my Cabinet—safe Francis, safe.

Bel.

Safe I'll warrant you Sir.

Sir Feeb.

My Gown, quick, quick—t'other Sleeve, man—so now my Night-Cap; well I'll in, throw open my Gown to fright away the Women; and jump into her Arms.

[Exit Sir Feeble.

Bel.

He's gone, quickly Oh Love inspire me!

Enter a Footman.

Foot.

Sir, my Master Sir Cautious Fulbank left his Watch on the

little Parlor-Table to Night, and bid me call for't.

Bel.

Hah—the Bridegroom has it Sir, who is just gone to Bed, it shall be sent him in the Morning.

Foo•…•….

'Tis •…•…ery well Sir—your Servant—

[Exit Footman.

Bel.

Let me see—here is the Watch, I took it up to keep for him—but his sending has inspir'd me with a slidden Stra∣tagem, that will do better than Force, to secure the poor trembling Leticia—who I am sure is dying with her Fears.

[Exit Bel.

SCENE changes, to the Bedchamber; Leticia in an Undressing, by the VVomen at the Table.

Enter to them Sir Feeble Fainwou'd.

Sir Fe•…•….

WHat's here? what's here? the prating Women still. Ods bobs, what not in Bed yet? for shame of Love Leticia.

Let.

For shame of Modesty Sir; you wou'd not have me go to Bed before all this Company.

Sir Feeb.

What the Women; why they must see you laid, 'tis the Fashion.

Let.

What with a Man? I wou'd not for the World. Oh Belmou•…•…, where art thou, with all thy promis'd Aid?

Dy.

Nay Madam, we shou'd see you laid indeed.

Let.

First in my Grave Diana.

Sir Feeb.

Ods bobs, here's a Compact amongst the Women—High Treason against the Bridegroom—therefore Ladies withdraw or adod Ill lock you all in.

[Throws open his Gown, they run all away, he locks the Door.

So, so, now we're alone Letioia—off with this foolish Modesty, and Night-Gown, and slide into my Arms,

[She runs from him.

H'e' my little Puskin—what fly me my Coy Daphne,

[He pursues her.

[Knocking.

Hah—who's that knocks—who's there?—

Bel.

'Tis I Sir, 'tis I, open the Door presently.

Sir Feeb.

Why, what's the matter, is the House o-fire?

Bel.

Worse Sir, worse—

[He opens the Door, Belmour enters with the Watch in his hand.

Let.

'Tis Belmour's Voyce!

Bel.

Oh Sir, do you know this Watch?

Sir F•…•…b.

This Watch.

Bel.

Ay•…•… Sir, this Watch

Sir Feeb.

This Watch—why prethee, why dost tell me of a Watch, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sir Cautio•…•… Fulbank's Watch, what then, what a Pox dost trouble me with Watches.

Offers to put him out, he returns.

Bel.

'Tis indeed his Watch Sh•…•…, and by this Token he has sent for you, to come immediately to his House Sir.

Sir Feeb.

What a Devil art Mad Francis, or is his Worship Mad, or does he think me Mad—go prethee tell him I'll come to him to Morrow.

[Goes to put him out.

Bel.

To Morrow Sir, why all our Throats may be cut before to Morrow.

Sir Feeb.

What sayst thou, Throats cut?

Bel.

Why, the City's up in Arms Sir, and all the Aldermen are met at Guild-Hall; some damnable Plot Sir.

Sir Feeb.

Hah—Plot—the Aldermen met at Guild-Hall?—hum—why let 'em meet, Vll not lose this Night to save the Nation.

Let.

Wou'd you to bed Sir, when the weighty Affairs of State require your Presence.

Sir Feeb.

—Hum—met at Guild hall?—my Cloaths, my Gown a∣gain Francis, I'll out—out, what upon my Wedding night? no—I'll in.

[Putting on his Gown pausing, pulls it off again.

Let.

For shame Sir, shall the Reverend Council of the City de∣bate without you?

Sir Feeb.

Ay, that's true, that's true, come truss again Francis, truss again—yet now I think on't Francis, prethee run thee to the Hall, and tell 'em 'tis my Wedding-Night, d'ye see Francis; and let fome body give my Voice for—

Bel.

What Sir?

Sir Feeb.

Adod I cannot tell; up in Arms say you, why, let 'em sight Dog, fight Bean; mun, I'll to Bed—go—

Let.

And shall his Majesty's Service and his Safety lie unregard∣ed for a slight Woman Sir?

Sir Feeb.

Hum, his Majesty!—come, hast Francis, I'll away, and call Ralph, and the Footmen, and bid 'em Arm; each man shoulder his Musket; and advance his Pike—and bring my Ar∣tillery Implements quick—and let's away: Pupsey—b•…•…u'y Pupsey, I'll bring it a fine thing yet before Morning, it may be—let's away; I shall grow fond, and forget the Business of the Nation—come follow me Francis—

[Exit Sir Feeble; Belmour runs to Leticia.

Bel.

Now my Leticia, if thou•…•…e'r didst love! If ever thou design'st to make me blest— Without delay sly this Adulterous Bed!

Sir Feeb.

Why Francis—where are you •…•…nave?

[Sir Feeb. within.

Bel.

I must be gone, lest he suspect us—I'll loose him, and return to thee immediately—get thy self ready—

Let.

I will not fail my Love.

[Exit Belmour.

—Old man forgive me—thou the Agressor art, Who rudely forc'd the Hand without the Heart. She cannot from the Paths of Honour rave, Whose Guide's Religion, and whose End is Love.

[Exit.

Scene changes to a wash-House, or out-House.

Enter with Dark-lanthorn Bredwel disguis'd like a Devil, leading Gayman.

Bred.

Stay here, till I give notice of your coming.

[Exit Bredwel, leaves his Dark-lanthorn.

Gay.

Kind Light, a little of your Aid—now must I be peeping tho my Curiosity should lose me all—hah—Zouns, what's here—a Hovel or a Hog-sty? hum, see the Wickedness of Man, that I should find no time to Swear in, but just when I'm in the Devils Clutches.

Enter Pert, as an old Woman with a Staff.

Old Woman.

Good Even to you, fair Sir.

Gay.

Ha—desend me! if this be she, I must rival the De∣vil, that's certain.

Old W.

Come young Gentleman, dare not you venture?

Gay.

He must be as hot as Vesuvius, that do's—I shall never earn my Morning's Present.

Old W.

What do you fear, a longing Woman Sir?

Gay.

The Devil I do—this is a damn'd Preparation to Love.

Old W.

Why stand you gazing Sir, a Womans Passion is like the Tide, it stays for no man when the Hour is come—

Gay.

I'm sorry I have took it at the Turning. I'm sure mine's ebbing out as fast.

Old W.

Will you not speak Sir—will you not on?

Gay.

I wou'd fain ask—a civil Question or two first.

Old W.

You know, too much Curiosity lost Paradice.

Gay.

Why there's it now.

Old W.

Fortune and Love invite you if you dare follow me.

Gay.

This is the first thing in Peticoats that ever dar'd me in vain. Were I but sure she were but Humane now—for sundry

Considerations she might down—but I will on—

[She goes, he follows; both go out.

SCENE. A Chamber in the Apartment of L. Fulbank.

Enter Old Women follow'd by Gayman in the dark.

[Soft Musick plays, she leaves him.

—Hah, Musick—and Excellent!

SONG.

OH! Love, that stronger art than Wine, Pleasing Delusion, Witchery divine, Want to be priz'd above all Wealth, Disease that has more Joys than Health. Tho we blaspheme thee in our Pain, And of thy Tyranny complain, We all are better'd by thy Reign.

What Reason never can bestow We to this useful Passion owe. Love wakes the Dull from slugesh Ease, And learns a Clown the Art to please. Humbles the Vain, kindles the Cold, Makes Misers free, and Cowards bold. 'Tis he reforms the Sot from Drink, And teaches airy Fops to think

When full brute Appetite is fed, And choak'd the Glutton lyes, and dead: Thou new Spirits does dispence, And fines the gross Delights of Sense. Vertues unconquerable Aid, That against Nature can perswade: And makes a roveing Mind retire Within the Bounds of just Desire. Chearer of Age, Youths kind unrest, And half the Heaven of the Blest.

Ah Julia, Julia! if this soft Preparation Were but to bring me to thy dear Embraces; What different Motions wou'd surround my Soul, From what perplex it now.

Enter Nymphs and Shepherds, and dance.

[Then two dance alone. All go out but Pert and a Shepherd.

—If these be Divels, they are obliging ones. I did not care if I ventur'd on that last Female Fiend.

Man sings.

Cease your Wonder, cease your Guess, Whence arrives your Happiness. Cease your Wonder, cease your Pain. Humane Fancy is in vain.

Chorns.

'Tis enough you once shall find, Fortune may to Worth be kind;

[gives him Gold.

And Love can leave off being blind.

Pert sings.

You, before you enter here— On this sacred Ring must swear.

Puts it on his Fin∣ger, holds his Hand.

By the Figure which is round, Your Passion constant and profound. By the Adamantine Stone, To be fixt to one alone. By the Lustre which is true, Ne'er to break your sa•…•…red Vow. Lastly by the Gold that's t•…•…y'd For Love all Dangers to abide.

They all dance about him, while those same two sing.

Man.

Once about him let us move, To confirm him true to Love.

[bis.

Pert.

Twice with mystick turning Feet, Make him silent and discreet.

[bis

Man.

Thrice about him let us tread, To keep him ever young in Red.

[bis.

Gives him another part.

Man.

Forget Aminta's proud Disdain. Tast here, and sigh no more in vain. The Joy of Love without the Pain.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.

That God vepenes his former Slights, And For•…•… thus your Faith requir•…•…s.

Both.

Forget 〈1 line〉〈1 line〉; Then tast, and sigh no more in vain, The Joy of Love without the Pain. The Joy of Love without the Pain.

[Exeunt all Dancers. Looks on himself and feels about him.

Gay.

What the Devil can all this mean? If there be a Woman in the Case—Sure I have not liv'd so bad a Life, to gain the dull Reputation of so modest a Coxcomb, but that a Female might down with me, without all this Ceremony. Is it care of her Ho∣nour?—that cannot be—this Age afford none so nice: nor Fiend, nor Goddess can she be, for these I saw were mortal! No—'tis a Woman—I am positive. Not young nor handsome, for then Vanity had made her Glory to 'ave been seen. No—sinee 'tis resolved a Woman—she must be old and ugly, and will not bauk my Fancy with her Sight. But baits me more with this essential Beauty.

Well—be she young or old, Woman or Devil. She pays, and I'll endeavour to be civil.

SCENE in the same House.

The flat Scene of the Hall. After a knocking, Enter Bred∣wel in his masking Habit, with his Vizard in one Hand and a Light in t'other in haste.

Bred.

HAh, knocking so late at at our Gate—

(Opens the Door. Enter Sir Feeble drest and arm'd Cap-a-pee with a broad wast Belt stuck round with Pistols, a Helmet, Scarfe, Buffcoat and half Pike.

Sir Feeb.

How now, how now, what's the matter here?

Bred:

Matter, what is my Lady's innocent Intrigue found out?—Heav'n's Sir what makes you here in this warlike Equipage?

Sir Feeb.

What makes you in this showing Equipage Sir?

Bred.

I have been dancing among some of my Friends.

Sir Feeb.

And I thought to have been fighting with some of my Friends. Where's Sir Cautious? where's Sir Cautious?

Bred.

Sir Cautious—Sir, in Bed.

Sir Feeb.

Call him, call him—quickly good Edward.

Bred.

Sure my Lady's Frollick is betray'd and he comes to make Mischief. However I'll go and secure Mr. Gayman.

[Exit Bredwel.

Enter Sir Cautious and Boy with Light.

Dick, Pray Sir go to Bed, here's no Thieves; all's still and well.

Sir Cau.

This last Nights Misfortune of mine Dick, has kept me waking and methought all Night I heard a kind of a silent Noise. I am still afraid of Thieves, mercy upon me to loose five hundred Ginneys at one clap Dick.—Hah—bless me! What's yonder! Blow the great Horn Dick—Thieves—Murder, Murder.

Sir Feeb.

Why what a Pox are you mad? 'Tis I, 'tis I Man.

Sir Cau.

I, who am I? Speak—declare—pronounce.

Sir Feeb.

Your Friend old Feeble Fainwood.

Sir Cau.

How, Sir Feeble! At this late Hour, and on his Wedding Night—why what's the matter Sir—is it Peace or War with you?

Sir Feeb.

A Mistake—a Mistake—proceed to the Business good Brother, for time you know is precious.

Sir Cau.

Some strange Catastrophe has happened between him and his Wife to Night, that makes him disturb me thus—come sit good Brother, and to the Business as you say—

[Aside

They sit one at one end of the Table, the other at the other, Dick sets down the Light and goes out—both sit gaping and staring and ex∣pecting when either shou'd speak.

Sir Feeb.

As soon as you please Sir. Lord how wildly he stares! He's much disturb'd in's Mind—well Sir let us be brief—

Sir Cau.

As brief as you please Sir,—well Brother—

[•…•…pawsing still.

Sir Feeb.

So Sir.

Sir Cau.

How strangely he stares and gapes—some deep Concern!

Sir Feeb.

Hum—hum—

Sir Cau.

I listen to you, advance—

Sir Feeb.

Sir?

Sir Cau.

A very distracted Countenance—pray Heaven he be •…•…ot mad, and a young Wife is able to make any old Fellow mad, that's the Truth on't.

[Aside.

Sir Feeb.

Sure 'tis something of his Lady—he's so loath to bring it out—I am sorry you are thus disturb'd Sir.

Sir Cau.

No disturbance to serve a Friend—

Sir Feeb.

I think I am your Friend indeed Sir Cautious, or I wou'd not have been here upon my Wedding Night.

Sir Cau.

His Wedding Night—there lies his Grief poor Heart! Perhaps she has cuckolded him already—

[Aside.

—Well come Brother—many such things are done—

Sir Feeb.

Done—hum—come out with it Brother—what troubles you to Night.

Sir Cau.

Troubles me—why, knows he I am rob'd?

[Aside.

Sir Feeb.

I may perhaps restore you to the Rest you've lost.

Sir Cau.

The Rest, why have I lost more since? Why know you then who did it? Oh how I'll be revenged upon the Rascal?

Sir Feeb.

'Tis—Jealousie, the old Worm that bites—

[Aside

Who is it you suspect?

Sir Cau.

Alas I know not whom to suspect, I wou'd I did; but if you cou'd discover him—I wou'd so swinge him.—

Sir Feeb.

I know him—what do you take me for a Pinip Sir? I know him—there's your Watch again Sir, I'm your Friend, but no Pimp Sir—

[Rises in Rage.

Sir Cau.

My Watch, I thank you Sir—but why Pimp Sir?

Sir Feeb.

Oh a very thriving Calling Sir—and I have a young Wife to practice with. I know your Rogues?

Sir Cau.

A young Wife—'tis so, his Gentlewoman has been at Hot-Cockles without her Husband, and he's Horn mad upon't. I suspected her being so close in with his Nephew—in a Fit with a Pox—

[Aside.

Come come Sir Feeble 'tis many an honest Mans Fortune.

Sir Feeb.

I grant it Sir—but to the Business Sir I came for.

Sir Cau.

With all my Soul—

[They sit gaping and expecting when either shou'd speak. Enter Bredwel and Gayman at the Door. Bredwel sees them and put Gayman back again.

Bred.

Hah—Sir Feeble—and Sir Cautious there—what shall I do? For this Way we must pass, and to carry him back wou'd discover my Lady to him, betray all and spoil the Jest—retire Sir, your Life depends upon your being unseen.

[go out.

Sir Feeb.

Well Sir,—do you not know that I am married Sir? And this my Wedding Night?

Sir Cau.

Very good Sir.

Sir Feeb.

And that I long to be in Bed?

Sir Cau.

Very well Sir—

Sir Feeb.

Very good Sir, and very well Sir—why then what the Devil do I make here Sir!

[Rises in a Rage.

Sir Cau.

Patienco Brother—and forward—

Sir Feeb.

Forward—lend me your Hand good Brother—lets feel your Pulse—how has this Night gone with you?

Sir Cau.

Ha, ha, ha—this is the oddest Quonundrum—sure he's mad—and yet now I think on't, I have not slept to Night, nor shall I ever sleep again till I have found the Villain that rob'd me.

[weeps.

Sir Feeb.

So—now he weeps—far gone—this laughing

and weeping is a very bad Sign! Come let me lead you to your Bed.

[Aside

Sir Cau.

Mad—stark Mad—no—now I'm up 'tis no Matter—pray ease your troubled Mind—I am your Friend—out with it—wllat was it acted? O•…•… but design'd?

Sir Feeb.

How Sir?

Sir. Cau.

Be not asham'd—I'm under the same Prema•…•…ire I doubt, little better than a—but let that pass—

Sir Feeb.

Have you any Proof?

Sir Cau.

Proof of what, good Sir?

Sir Feeb.

Of what, why that you'r a Cuckold—Sir a Cuc∣kold if you'll ha't.

Sir Cau.

Cuckold Sir—do ye know what ye say?

Sir Feeb.

What I say?

Sir Cau.

I what you say, can you make this out?

Sir Feeb.

I make it out—

Sir Cau.

Ay Sir—if you say it and cannot make it out—you're a—

Sir Feeb.

What am I Sir? What am I?

Sir Cau.

A Cuckold as well as my self Sh•…•…, and I'll sue you for Scandalum Magnatum, I shall recover swinging Damages with a Ci∣ty Jury.

Sir Feeb.

I know of no such thing Sir.

Sir Cau.

No Sir?

Sir Feeb.

No Sir.

Sir Cau.

Then what wou'd you be at Sir?

Sir Feeb.

I be at Sir—what wou'd you be at Sir?

Sir Cau.

Ha, ha, ha—why this is the strangest thing—to see an old Fellow, a Magistrate of the City, the first Night he's mar∣ryed forsake his Bride and Bed, and come arm'd Cap-a-pee, like Garga•…•…ta, to disturb another old Fellow and banter him with a Tale of a Tub; and all to be-cuckold him here—in plain Eng∣lish what's your Business?

Sir Feeb.

Why what the Devils your Businessa and you go to that?

Sir Cau.

My Business with whom?

Sir Feeb.

With me Sir, with me, what a Pox de ye think I do here.

Sir Cau.

'Tis that I wou'd be glad to know Sir.

Enter Dick.

Sir Feeb.

Here Dick, remember I've brought back your Masters Watch, next time he sends for me o'er Night I'll come to him in the Morning.

Sir Cau.

Ha, ha, ha—I send for you? Go home and sleep

Sir—ad and yo•…•… keep your Wife wijubg ti si Alittle purpose you'd go near to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Horns

Sir Feeb.

Roguery—〈1 line〉〈1 line〉— Look ye this was the Message I receiv'd—

Tells him fee•…•…ringly.

En•…•… Bredwell to the Door—in a white Sheet like a Ghost 〈1 line〉〈1 line〉

Bred.

Now Sir we are two •…•…o two, for this Way you must pass or be taken in the Ladys Lodgings—I'll-first adventure out to make you pass the fafer. And that he may not, if possible, fee Sir Cautious, whom I shall fright into a Trance I am sure.

[Aside.

And Sir Feeble the Devil's in t if he know him.

Gay.

A brave kind Fellow this—

Enter Bred well stalking on as a Ghost by them.

Sir Gay.

Oh—andone—andone—help help— I'm dead, I'm dead—I

[Aside—and stands still.

Bred.

As I could wish—

[Aside—turns.

—Come on thou gastly thing and follow me—

Enter Gayman like a Ghost with a Torch—

Sir Cau.

Oh Lord, oh Lord—

Gay.

Hah—old Sir Feeble Fain•…•…ood—why where the Devil am I?—'Tis he—and be it where it will I'll fright the old Dotard for couzening my Friend of his Mistress—

[stalks on—

Sir Feeb.

Oh guard me—guard me—all ye Poe'rs?

[Tr•…•…blign.

Gay.

Thou call'st in vain fond W•…•…otch—for I am Be•…•…,

Whom first thor•…•… robst of Fame and Life. And then what dearer was—his Wife—

[Goes out shaking his Torch at him.

Sir Cau.

Oh Lord—oh Lord!

Enter Lady Fulbank in an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Pert undrest.

L. Fulb.

Heav'ns what Noise is this?—So he's got safe out I see—hah what thing art thou—

[Sees Sir Feeble an•…•…'d.

Sir Feeb.

Stay Madam stay—〈◊〉〈◊〉 I, 'tis •…•…a poor trembling Mortal—

L. Fulb.

Sir Feeble Fa•…•…ood—rise—are you both mad?—

Sir Cau.

No no—Madam we have seen the Devil.

Sir Feeb.

Ay and he was as tall as the Mohnment.

Sir Cau.

With Eyes like a Beacon—and a Mouth—Heav'n bless us like London Bridge at a full Tide.

Sir Feeb.

Ay, and rear'd as loud—

L. Fulb.

Idle Fancys, what makes you from your Bed? And you Sir from your Bride?

[Enter Dick with Sack.

Sir Feeb.

Oh! that's the Business of another Day, a Mistake on∣ly Madam.

L. Fulb.

Away, I'm asham'd to see wise Men so weak, the Fan∣toms of the Night, or your own Shadows, the Whimseys of the Brain for want of Rest, or perhaps Bredwell your Man—who being wiser than his Master play'd you this Trick to fright you both to Bed.

Sir Feeb.

Hum—adod and that may be, for the young Knave when he let me in to Night, was drest up for some Waggery—

Sir Cau.

Ha, ha, ha, 'twas even so sure enough Brother—

Sir Feeb.

Ads bobs but they frighted me at first basely—but I'll home to Pupsey, there may be Roguery, as well as here—Madam I ask your Pardon, I see we're all mistaken.

L. Fulb.

Ay, Sir Feeble; go home to your Wife.

[Exit severally.

SCENE the Street.

Enter Belmour at the Door, knocks, and enter to him from the House Phillis.

Phil.

OH are you come Sir, I'll call my Lady down.

Bel.

Oh haste, the Minutes fly—leave all behind. And bring Leticia only to my Arms.

[A Noise of People.

—Hah—what Noise is that? 'Tis coming this Way—I tremble with my Fears—hah—Death and the Devil—'Tis he—

Enter Sir Feeble and his Men arm'd, goes to the Door, knocks.

Ay 'tis he—and I'm undone—what shall I do to kill him now? besides the Sin wou'd put me past all Hopes of pardon∣ing.

Sir Feeb.

A damn'd Rogue to deceive me thus—

Bel.

Hah—see by Heaven Leticia! Oh we are ruin'd!

Sir Feeb.

Hum—what's here two Women?—

[stands a little off.

Enter Leticia and Phillis softly undre st with a Box.

Let.

Where are you my best Wishes? Lord of my Vows—and Charmer of my Soul? Where are you?

B•…•…ll.

Oh Heavens!—

[Draws his Sword half Way.

Sir Feeb.

Hum, who's here? My Gentlewoman—she's monstrous kind of the sudden. But whom is't meant to?

[Aside.

Le•…•…

Give me your Hand my Love, my Life, my all— —Alas! where are you?

Sir Feeb.

Hum—no, no, this is not to me—I am jilted, couzen'd, Cuckol'd, and so forth—

[Groping she takes hold of Sir Feeb.

Let.

Oh are you here, indeed you frighted me with your Si∣lence—here take these Jewels and let us hast away.

Sir Feeb.

Hum—are you thereabouts Mistress, was I sent away with a Sharn-Plot for this!—She can not mean it to me.

Let.

Will you not speak—will you not answer me?—do you re∣pent already?—before Injoyment are you cold and false?

Sir Feeb.

Hum—before Injoyment—that must be me? Before In∣joyment—Ay ay 'tis I—I see a little

[merrily.

Prolonging a Womans Joy, sets an Edge upon her Appetite.

Let.

What means my Dear? Shall we not haste away?

Sir Feeb.

Hast away? there 'tis again—no—'tis not me she means what at your Tricks and Intrigues already—yes yes I am destin'd a Cuckold—

Let.

Say, am I not your Wife; can you deny me?

Sir Fee.

Wife! adod 'tis I she means—'tis I she means—

[Merrily.

Let.

Oh, Belmour, Belmour!

[Sir Fee. starts back from her Hands.

Sir Fee.

Hum—what's that—Belmour?

Let.

Hah! Sir Feeble!—he would not, Sir, have us'd me thus unkindly.

Sir Fee.

Oh—I'm glad 'tis no worse—Belmour quoth a; I thought the Ghost was come again.

Phill.

Why did you not speak, Sir, all this while—my Lady weeps with your Unkindness.

Sir Fee.

I did but hold my peace to hear how prettily she prat∣tled Love: But fags you are nought to think of a young Fellow—adsbobs you are now.

Let.

I only said—he wou'd not have been so unkind to me.

Sir Fee.

But what makes ye out at this Hour, and with these Jewels?

Phill.

Alas Sir, we thought the City was in Arms, and pack't up our things to secure 'em, if there had been a Necessity for Flight. For had they come to Plundring once, they wou'd have begun with the rich Aldermen's Wives, you know Sir.

Sir Fee.

Adsbobs and so they would—but there was no

Arms—nor Mutiny—where's Francis?

Bel.

Here Sir.

Sir Fee.

Here Sir—why what a Story you made of a Meet∣ing in the Hall and—Arms and—a—the Divel of any thing was stirring, but a couple of old Fools, that sat gaping and wait∣ing for one anothers Business—

Bel.

Such a Message was brought me Sir.

Sir Fee.

Brought, thou'rt an Ass Francis—but no more—come, come, lets to Bed.—

Let.

To Bed Sir? what by Day-light—fot that's hasting on—I wou'd not for the World—the Night wou'd hide my Blushes—but the Day—wou'd let me see my self in your Em∣braces.

Sir Fee.

Embraces, in a Fidlestick, why are we not marry'd?

Let.

'Tis true Sir, and Time will make me more familiar with you, but yet my virgin Modesty forbids it. I'le to Diana's Cham∣ber, the Night will come again.

Sir Fee

For once you shall prevail; and this Damn'd Jant has pretty well mortified me:—a Pox of your Mutiny Francis—Come I'le conduct thee to Diana, and lock thee in, that I may have thee safe Rogue.—

Wee'l give young Wenches leave to whine and blush, And fly those Blessings which—••ads bobs they wish.

The End of the third Act.