Love for money, or, The boarding school a comedy as it is acted at the Theatre Royal / written by Mr. Durfey.

SCENE II.

The Dancing-Room.

In the Front appears several of the Boarders as Seated for the Ball, and on the side of the Stage others sitting as Spectators; among the rest L. Addleplot, Tearshift: L. Stroddle, and other Ladies, and on the middle of the Stage Le Prate, Y. Bragg, and Semibrief.

Le Prat.

Ah Iernie vat a filthy place is this when compare vid our School in France, no Decorum, no Ornament, no Fresco, begar metink it stink a like a de Kitchin of de Lord Mawor—or the hold of a Ship begar.

Semib.

Ah Sir, our Noses are not so Nice here in England.

Le Prat.

Dat is as much as say you are all Sloven in England, gazoon your Jantee French Dancing-Master, all we••r persume and cover them all over vid rare Pulvile to take away de nauscous ill Ayre. Ugh—ugh,—oh fogh tis Intollerable.

Enter Crowstich with Miss Jenny holding a Waxwork Baby in a Glass. Mirtill, Y. Merriton, and Coopee—Miss Jenny asks Blessing.

L. Addle.

Bless ye, Bless my good Child, and make her a good woman,

and the mother of many Children: I think she's grown since I saw her last Mrs Crowstich.

Crow.

Mightily Madam, mightily, would she would grow in grace as much.

L. Addle.

Lord save her pretty Moppet, hold up your head Ienny, and go and make a Courtesy to my Lady Stroddle:—

L. Strod.

Your servant pretty Misse:—Indeed Madam,

[Kisses her]

as your Ladyship says she's grown extreamly, Misse, you are almost fit for a husband already; hah Child.

Misse Ien.

Hoh hoh hoh hoh—

[laughs and makes a Courtesy ridiculously.

Crow.

Fye Miss Ienny where are your hands now? have I not told ye, you must remember to put 'em thus always; when you make a Courtesy?

[Misse Courtesys again.

L. Addle.

That's my good Girl, Mounsieur Le Prat and Cozen Bounter you don't see Misse and her fine work here.

Le Prat.

Madam, I beg your Ladyships pardon, and I am your most Obe∣dient Slave pret Misse.—

[Kisses her, and she Courtesys.

Y. Brag.

Dear Sweet Pretty Creature your's:—

[Kisses her.

L. Strod.

Well I vow Madam these Nudities are very Ingenious; the Child is Extravagantly well bred.

Le Prat.

Monsieur Coopee a word with you.

[Prat goes aside and makes motions as if dancing.

Semibr

Here comes the t'other Romp that I told ye was so fond of me, I have hopes of getting her, for they say she's a swinging fortune.

[Enter Nicompoop and Molly.

Y. Mer.

Which on my Conscience will be no hard matter for thee to Compass.

Semibr.

I hope so, I'l try:—

Nicom.

Come Molly wipe thy eyes Child, I'le take thee away from 'em to morrow, they shall whip thee no more seriously—

[weeps.

Molly.

Ugh ugh ugh ugh—

[Sobs and makes faces.

Nicom.

Go and ask my Lady my Wife blessing, and then come to me a∣gain, de'e hear Molly:—that's a good girl.

Y. Brag.

This is my wife that is to be, if my Lady can bubble the old Cuckold to give consent: d'sheart

[Molly goes and asks blessing and then

what shall I do with it 'tis a meer Baby.

[rises up and runs to her Father.

L. Addle.

Fogh, my Lady Stroddle, did your Ladyship ever see such a Nauseous thing? 'tis so like the Father.

L. Stroddle.

Her face has Mr. Deputys Clumsie Cut indeed Madam:

Le Prat.

All dis, Monsieur Coopee I can shew you in less time den one half hour—tah tah—I have two tre hundre of de most admirable French step— hark you me I will tell a you in four words.

Coopee.

Four words Sir, you hove spoke above four thousand in less than a minute. I can hear no more, I must beg your pardon, I must go teach.

[goes out from him.

Le Prat.

Monsieur Merriton, did you ever see such a dam English Puppy? I tell you vat Sir:

[Le Prat makes motions as in

Y. Merriton.

And briefly too, Sir or else—

[Earnest discourse.

Y. Brag.

And did the Governess whip her, say ye Sir? Why this is barba∣rous, but yet I see she's pretty brisk for all her Jerking.

Nicom.

Brisk, nay, the Girl is mettle to the back seriously, but I'le take her away to Morrow I'me resolv'd, they shall jerk no Child of mine, if it must be done, I'le have the jerking her my self.

Y. Brag.

Well said Mr. Deputy, 'ds' heart what a thing of a Spouse shall I have?

Enter Coopee with Guittars.

Ienny.

Oh here's dear Mr. Coopee,—Sir your most humble Servant.

Coopee.

Yours dear Misse, I have brought your Guittarr here, and harkee you'l be sure to be ready to morrow to get out as we have contriv'd

Ienny.

Yes I warrant ye, and you shall see I'le do it so Cunningly.

[Aside.

L. Addle.

Oh Ienny has got her Guittarr, pray look upon her, Madam, there's an Ayre, there's a shape, there's an Ingenious look, fogh t'other aw∣ker'd Romp makes me sick.

Le Prat.

De deevil take a me if in the space of half an hour Monsieur Mer∣riton, I would not have tell a dat Ignorant English Puppy all dis, and hark you I vill tell you one ting more—

Y. Mer.

No more Monsieur, not a word upon my faith, I am almost deaf already, besides I must see the Dance.

[flings away from him.

Le Prat.

Dis is ver strange dey vill no hear me speak begar.

Here the Romps perform a Ridiculous Dance with Guittarrs out of Tune.

L. Addle.

Very fine, upon my honour, those Guittarrs agree with the dance admirably—hold up your head Ienny.

L. Stroddle.

And gives 'em a delicate Ayre, Madam, oh 'tis extream fine.

Y. Mer.

The Divil it is, gad a half-tub Strung with Packthread is better Musick by half.

Enter Jiltal in an Indian habit, and Oyley.

Le. Prat.

Zoon who is dis I see my dear Sweet pret Metresse Betty in dis∣guise, I must know vat dis mean

[goes and whispers Oyley.

Y. Meriton.

Oh yonder's the Sham-Indian Heiress the Rogue Amorous I see has drest her rarely.

[Here Jiltal Dances.]

[Then the Scene shuts out the rest.

Le Prat.

Iernie Metresse Oyley you ravish me to tell me dat your Lady came in disguise to entertain me.

Oyley.

'Tis most Certainly so Sir, you are most extreamly in her favour, this was a fit of Jealousie in her to find what Lady you hanker'd after:— I find the Fool has money now.

[Aside.

Le Prat.

Jealousy begar is as true a sign of Love as huffing is of Cowardice, ah garzoon I languish, I dye, for her, dear Metresse Oyley can you tink I may Enter de fort of her favour for one hundred Guinny.

Oyley.

A 100. Guinnys, ay, any fort in Christendom Monsieur assure your self.

Le Prat.

Begar here dey are den but where, how shall I kiss her fair hand Dear Sweet Charming Metresse Oyley.

[shews a purse.

Oyley.

The Frenchmans as hot as if he were Bombing a fort in good Earnest—well, have patience a little Monsieur, and by and by—I'le bring you a Note—

[for your Money you French Fool

[Aside.

Le Prat.

Aw I understand a you—mum—

L. Strod.

The Captain has a great many taking Qualities I perceive Ma∣dam; Pray Sir what Country-man are ye?

Y. Brag.

If I should speak truth now, and tell her my Mother was a Sinder∣wench, and that I was whelp'd in the Mews Dunghil, how my Lady will be surpriz'd

[Aside.]

Madam, my Native Country was Arabia Foelix, my Father was a very near Relation to Prester Iohn, The Bouncers of Affrica are the An∣cient'st Family in the World, Madam, for my own part thirsting after Glory, I left my Country to assist at the late memorable Seige of Buda, where I stood upon the Breach just by the Governour at the Storming of the Town, I saw him fall, and narrowly Scap'd my self; after which action acquainting my self with a famous English Officer, one Collonel Bragg, I came over hi∣ther, where I soon learnt the Language, and had the honour to Ingratiate my self with her most noble Ladyship.

Le Prat.

Oh dat is certain de Bounsers be ver great Family in France too.

[Oyley comes and gives Le Prat. a Note in an Orange.

Y. Mer.

The Lyers indeed are a great Family all the World over, now rather then not prate at all with that French Fool, joyn with 'tother in his monstrous vanity.

[to Coopee.

Coop.

If he's neither Singing, Dancing, nor Prating, you may conclude a French Man dead at any time.

Enter Nicompoop and Molly crying

Nicom.

Oh Cozen, as I was standing at the door, just now, who should come by but that old sawcy Granadeer who had the Impudence to affront ye so yesterday, I told him you are within here, and that you would have him whip'd, and seriously, what does the old Rascal do but gave me a huge Box o'th Ear, call'd you a Thousand Sons of Whores, kickt Molly; beat two of my Lady's Footmen that took my part, and is just now forcing his way in hither seriously, o Lord!

Y. Brag.

D'shert what shall I do, this is my old dog of a Father, now shall I be disgrac'd for ever.

Enter Old Bragg fighting with two Footmen. Y. Merriton, and Le Prate part 'em.

Le Prat.

Jernie—vat is de meaning of dis sa, sa, vat a Plague do you do.

O. Brag.

Let me go and I'le beat the Rogues into Paste.

Y. Mer.

Whats the matter Friend?

O. Brag.

Oh are you there Sirrah?

[runs to Y. Brag.

what you threaten to have me Whipt de'e, you Prodigal Son of a Whore— harkee dogbolt, who am I? hah!

Y. Brag.

The Devil, I think, I'me sure y'are as great a plague to me,

[Aside.

I must face him down with Impudence; there's no way else—what art thou mad old fellow? who wouldst thou speak with? ha!

O. Brag.

Mad old fellow, here's an Impudent Rascal, what you have forgot me Rogue, have ye? but I'le rub up your Memory presently:—

[offers to draw, Merrit. holds him.

Y. Mer.

Why how now old Armour of proof de'e know to whom you give this Language, the Gentleman's a Captain.

O. Brag.

Why let him be a Collonel, he's my Son, and I'le call him as many Rogues and Rascals as I please.

Y. Brag.

Would I had been the Son of a Coach-horse.

[Aside.

Y. Mer.

Thy Son, ha ha ha, this is pleasant i'faith; art thou the stock of the Ancient family of the Bouncers of Affrica ha ha ha ha ha.—

Le Prat.

De fellow has not bin bred in France dat I'm sure.

Y. Brag.

Hark'e Sir, I'm Courting a young Lady here that has six thou∣sand pound Fortune, follow my directions, and recover my Credit, and you shall have half.

[To Old Brag.

O. Brag.

Six Thousand Pounds—

Y. Brag.

Every Farthing Sir; 'tis she yonder that stands by the old Gen∣tleman.

O. Brag.

And shall I have half, Neddey?

[Altering his Tone.

Y. Brag.

You shall; therefore own your self to be Colonel Brag, an Ac∣quaintance of mine at the Siege of Buda, and let me alone for the rest.

O. Brag.

Why, this is fair now Neddy? now you don't abuse and slight your old Father, you are a good Boy—Three Thousand Pounds! Gad Zooks! 'tis enough to make me a Colonel indeed.

Y. Brag.

Mind your Cue; Ha, ha, ha, ha: Come dear Colonel, 'tis enough now, prithee leave off thy Joking, I see my Lady is surprized at it. Why, Madam, and Gentlemen, this was nothing but a Jest all this while, this is my dear Friend Colonel Brag that I met withal at Buda—

O. Brag.

Yes, Madam, I am Colonel Brag, and as the Captain says, we me together at Buda.

Y. Mer.

Methinks your Habit is not very like a Colonel, Sir.

L. Prat.

Jernie de ver, resemblance of de English nasty foot Granadeer.

Y. Brag.

Oh, a Jest, a Jest, the Colonel has often these Frolicks to come a broad in a Disguise; he has some Design in this now I warrant.

L. Addle.

I warrant he is a Colonel o'th wrong side, by his beating my Footmen; the Rebels all know my Livery, and have a spi••e at it; and there∣fore pray tell him, Cozen, I care not for such Roysters Company.

Y. Brag.

Sir, you'd do well to humour my Lady a little in her way, she's a great Stickler against the Government.

O. Brag.

What, you'd have me speak Treason, would you ye Rogue, and so hoist my self to the Gallows before I'm aware.

Y. Brag.

Would thou wert hoisted there fifty Cubits high: Dsheart, this old Scoundrel will discover all yet, I see by his awkward Carriage.

[Aside.

L. Addle.

A Filthy Beast! Come, Madam, let's leave him, and go and give order for our Bonfire. Madam, are your Ladyship's Jack-Boots ready.

L. Strod.

They were liquor'd this Morning, Madam; I'm ready in a Minute.

L. Addle.

Mr. Alderman, Come, let's go; Cozen Bouncer, come you away too from the Old Rebel, I have occasion to use ye.

Y. Brag.

I'le wait on ye, Madam. Meet me at the Magpy-Tavern at Nine.

[To O. Brag.]

[Exeunt L. Addle. L. Strod. Thrum. Y▪ Brag.

O. Brag.

Enough, I'le come—Gentlemen, Good buy.

[Exit O. Brag.

Y. Mer.

Oh, your Servant good Colonel Musquet, ha, ha, ha, I will know the bottom of this Cheat I'm resolv'd, and to effect it thou shalt go and invite 'em to a Glass of Wine with me to morrow.

Coopee.

That old fellow is certainly a Counterfeit; but what is t'other? Is he really a Captain?

Y. Mer.

No more than thou art a General: 'Tis the Common Title now-a-days

for all the Bullies, Shop-lifts, Robbers, Pimps, Panders and Rakehels about the Town; any tall Fellow that can but get a red Coat on's Back is dubb'd a Captain presently: But prithee let's go, whilst the Monsieur is busie yonder, for fear he should thrust himself upon us; and dear Rogue, procure me but another Meeting to Morrow with Mirtilla, and then I'm thine for e∣ver.

Coopee.

I'le do what I can, but you may thank your Dancing Faculty.

[Exeunt Mer. and Coopee.

Le Prat.

Jernie, heer be de very pret Fancy, a Sheny Orange vid de Billet Doux wrap in it; ha, ha, ha, let a me see now vat it say? Ha!—'Tis from my deer sweet Mrs. Betty, Begar—I'le go into the Garden and read it, for I see here comes more Company.

[Exit.

Enter Rakehel, Amorous, and Jiltall, in a Rage.

Iiltal.

Patience! Talk not to me of Patience, Mr. Amorous, I will have Justice.

Amor.

You shall, Madam, you shall.

Iiltal.

I'le have him hang'd, I'le make a Parliament business of it, I'le make him an Example to all Villanous cheating Guardians; I'le mount him, tho it cost me half the Estate.

Rakehel.

This is a very Indian Devil.

Amor.

'Tis well she's ignorant who you are, Sir; for she has such a Devil∣lish Spirit, that, G••d, if she knew, she'd go near to tare ye to pieces.

Rake.

The very Issue of a Dragon; Gadzooks, I'm afraid to come near her.

Iiltal.

Would I had the Villain here' I'd tare his Throat out with these Fingers, I'de chop him into more pieces than ever Medaea did her Brother Absirtus in Story: What say you, Sir? would not you help me to murder the Villain, hah—

Rakehel.

O yes, Madam,; I'd have a Leg or an Arm of the Rascal if he were here

[Trembling.

Iiltal.

A Treacherous bloody kidnabbing Villain, hah, Sir!

Rakehel.

Oh, a Rogue, a Rogue, a very Rogue!

Iiltal.

O•• that this Dagger were in his Hearts Blood.

Rakehel.

He were right serv'd if it were, Madam.

[Sbud how I tremble.

Iiltal.

But the Gallows shall perform the Work more decently; therefore Mr. Amorous, if you have any Love for me, as you profess, lose not a minut's time in the Prose••ution; you know the Witnesses are all ready, and want nothing but a Summons; I think the Law cannot fail to do me right in so notorious an Abuse; but if it should, I swear by Mars, Apollo, Venus, Mercury, and all the Powers of Fire, Air, Earth and Water, rather than let my Cause be left in the Lurch, I'le st••b him, tho I do it in the Church.

[Exit.

Rakehel.

Ay, there I would give thee leave, for I never come into one; but that's all one on my Conscience, this Fury will be the Death of me one way or other.

Amor.

Certainly, Sir; For to say Truth, she has often a mad Fit takes her, and then she fears neither God, Man, nor the Devil; she got it with drinking Brandies and Hot Waters in the Indies, Sir.

Rakehel.

Well Cozen, I see I must depend upon thee—What relief, hah?

Amor.

Why, Sir, to shew what a Value I have for ye, and what Care for your Reputation, make up the Estate of Seven hundred a Year that I sold

ye, a Thousand, and settle it upon me, and I'll instantly marry her, and give you a Discharge for all the rest.

Rakehel.

Well, well, I'le do't Nephew, I'le do't, for I find, if I should carry it against her by Law, I shall never carry my own Guts in quiet an hour after; she'll have her Dagger amongst 'em before I'm aware.

Amor.

Ay Sir, besides the Disgrace of Kidnapping you know.

Rakehel.

Ay, 'tis time; but Mum for that, good Nephew; thou knowest all Flesh is frail, and 'twas a shrewd Temptation: Go, go, and get the Writings ready, and I'le Seal to Morrow: But prithee when thou hast Married her, keep her within doors, for Gadzooks, I had rather eat a Fricassy of Souls with Belzebub, than meet her in my Dish again.

[Exit Rakehel.

Re-enter Jiltall.

Iilt.

Ha, ha, ha, ha—Is he gone?

Amor.

And most damnably frighted, what betwixt the shame of being taken for a Kidnapper, and his own Cowardly Apprehensions of being Murdered, he's e'en out of his Wits; the business is done, ye little Devil, the Writings are go∣ing to be drawn for a Thousand a Year, and he's to Seal to Morrow.

Iiltal.

Ah, dear Dog, I am glad on't for thy sake, I vads Iacky; and I think I acted to the Life.

Amor.

Rarely, Rarely, and thy Settlement shall fare ne're the worse for't; it may chance to swell to Five Hundred a year now, ye dear Devil you.

[Kisses her.

Iilt.

No indeed sweet Blood, that's too much I'm afraid, you'l think I'm mercenary, Iacky; Mrs. Strikeup, Sir Thomas Rental's Mistress, 'tis true, has Five Hundred a year; but for my part, my dear Honey, sweet Puppy-face, thou art so Charming I can love thee without e're a Groat.

Amor.

Ah! dear Betty, I love thee so entirely, that I think I can never do enough for thee: Prithee let's go and be private a little, shall we?

Iilt.

Not now, dear Iacky, there's the Governess and some other Boarders in my Chamber, who expect me at supper, but to morrow my Honny-suckle Rogue I'le be thine all day—till when my little dear sweet Apes Face, a∣dien— Ah Sirrah, I'm too fond of thee.

[Strokes and kisses him and Exit.

Amor.

Well, go thy ways, if all thy Charming Sex had Souls like thee despising base Confinement and wore thy constant kind endearing humour, in what a forlorn state were Matrimony! A Wife! why is not she the best of Wives, that loves me, that pleases and indulges my desires, and all still upon honour, without force, and this, dear Betty, is thy Character.

Marriage the product of Convenience is, 'Tis Love with freedom brings the truest Bliss.

Enter Le Prat from the Garden.

Le Prat.

Ha, ha, ha, ha—

Amor.

How now, what makes this French Puppy here grinning? so Mon∣sieur, you are very merry, I see.

Le Prat.

Merry! ay begar, I have de ver good reason too if you knew all—dis Lettra dat you see here make me de most happy person in de whole World, begar.

Amor.

A Letter! what from some young thing here I warrant, that's smit∣ten with thy airy parts; come prithee—discover thou knowest I am thy Friend, art stealing a Fortune here? hah—

Le Prat.

Dam Fortune, she's a blind Bawd dat obliges none, but Fool begar; dis Intreague is beyond all de Fortune in de World, which because you are de Man of Honour I will communicate; you must know den dat here is great Beauty in dis-Town dat goes by the name of Madam Iiltal.

Amor.

Ha, Iiltal!—

Le Prat.

A rare Creature, both for de Shape, de Wit, de Beauty, and e∣very ting dat is incomparable.

Amor.

So, Sir.

Le Prat.

Now you must know dat at intreaguing is de very soul of the French, and my self being always great Admirer of dat Gallantry, I have en∣dear my merit so much in her Favour, by de Song, de Fiddle, de Present, and oder ting shall be nameless, dat she came yesterday hither in an Indian habit to meet me.

Amor.

To meet you—

Le Prat.

Yes, begar, ha, ha, ha, vas not ver pretty frolick, hah, for you must know dat we have sometime met together in order place before now.

Amor.

Damnation! What does this Rascal mean [Aside.] This must be my Betty, it can be no other—So, Sir, and that Letter is from her, is it?

Le Prat.

Just now sent to invite me to her private Chamber, where dere is de Bed, and Couch, and Chair, and all oder convenience; ah, 'tis full of de most tender obliging expression dat ever vas writ; dere, read, you shall find she has great deal of Wit—she's ver fine person, ma foy.

Amor.

Hell take me if it be not her own Character! Oh patience!

[Reads the Letter.

Your Merits, dear Sir, have so won upon my heart that I can no longer defer your desire; therefore you may come, if you please, by the Back Garden up Stairs into my Apartment; for I'm oblig'd to stay here to night upon some urgent occasi∣on; now is your time, and to endear ye more, know that I intend to feign my self sick to a young passionate Fool that loves me and waits for admittance, to possess the greater Pleasure of enjoying your sweet Company.

Le Prat.

Ay, dat Fool, dat Fool, de turning away of dat fool dat wait, please me most of all—ha, ha, ha, vat tink you? Hah, is not she an Angel?

Amor.

A down right Devil.

Le Prat.

Deevle! who, who, Jernie, vat are you tinking on? Oh you are surprised at her Wit are you? ha, ha, ha, vel begar, I believe she has the richest brain in all England, ma foy, and is assurement the greatest.

Amor.

Jilt in Europe, by Heaven! Oh—Confound her, is all [Stamps the Vows and fondness come to this—Ah dear Merriton now I confess my Blindness and thy Judgment.

Le Prat.

Hey! Vat a Diable is de matra? nay, nay, if you be mad, come give me de Lettra, and let me go, for I long to be embracing de dear, dear ravishing Creature dat stay for me.

Amor.

Why then let me tell you, Monsieur Rantipol tanto, you shall not have her Letter, nor shall you go to her neither.

Le Prat.

Hey morbleau, vat time of the Moon is dis,—vat you mean Monsieur!

Amor.

Why I mean to signifie to ye Monsieur, that this Charming Angel of yours has been my Whore this seven years; I settled an Estate upon her in 87, carried her to Flanders in 88, and spent two thousand pounds upon her in 89, brought her over with me in 90, and now this present year find my self jilted and resolve a Revenge, therefore consent to qui•• all pretensions to her instantly or draw.

Le Prat.

Draw, dis is very fine begar, I come heeder to make Love, and you will force me to make War, but it never shall be say dat a Frenchman desert his Mistress, or his Intreague—Come on Monsieur, sa, sa.

[Leaps backward, and fences at a distance.

Amor.

A Plague, what you are dancing a Galliard, are ye—Come, I'le shew ye an English step, Sir,

[Presses in, fights, and disarms him.

Le Prat.

Gazoon, vat dam Fortune is dis? I have shame my Country—begar dis is de first time dat ever de French were foil'd.

Amor.

Oh, Sir, you are ill read in History I find; come, there's your Sword agen, you see I scorn to make you beg your Life; therefore in return of Ho∣nour, fail not to meet me here to morrow at this time; I have business with ye—

Le Prat.

Begar, you are ver brave Fellow, therefore I'le come; and dee hear Monsieur, when ever our great Monarch come and conquer your Country, de Devil take a me, but I will do as much for you.

Amor.

Oh, I thank ye Sir.

Le Prat.

Dis is ver brave Fellow, ma foy, but a Plague of his dam English step for all dat.

[Exit Le Prate.

Amor.

And now to ruminate on my Revenge, And right my self in this strange turn of Fortune; For oh, I lov'd this Jilt beyond my Reason, Wounded my heart afresh, and every night Fancied I had the first sweet budding Nosegay, When every Flower was common in the Market. Suppose I poison, or I strangle her, Why, I send her to th' Devil, my self to th' Gallows.

What satisfaction! Suppose I trade with some of her Aunts the Bawds, and get the Pox, and give it her, why then the Venom of her own Nature will relieve it, and I alone am wretched, or should I cut her into little Morsels, like a true Serpent, every part would live, and every part would joyn agen to sting me. No, I have it, the Purse is the Whores mortal part, I'll stab her there.

Learn this by me, you that desert kind Wives, And with this cursed Tribe debauch your Lives; For Gold you gain a thousand Sweets and Dears, But cease to pay, and then the Punk appears.

[Exit.