The atheist, or, The second part of The souldiers fortune acted at the Duke's Theatre / written by Tho. Otway.

ACT V. (Book 5)

Enter Lucrece in Man's Cloaths, and Chloris.

Lucr.

FRom this gay minute farewell Love and Doating: I have shook the lazy, stretching, wishing Folly out of my Blood, and now my wan∣dring Heart is at home again. Let me see; I have a hundred and a hundred times wish'd my self a Man; and now, in outward appearance, I am a very Fellow; nay, a very pretty Fellow: for, methinks Foppery, Impertinence, Self-conceit, and other Masculine Qualities grow upon me strangely.—Oh, Mischief, Mischief, Mischief! thou art a very sweet-Employment:—But Op∣portunity! Bewitching, Lovely, Omnipotent Opportunity! How shall I come at thee? Chloris!—

Chloris.

Madam.

Lucr.

Give me my Sword.

Chlor.

Here Madam: Bless us, What will your Ladyship do with your self in this Equipage!

Lucr.

Ladyship, Huzzy! take notice from this important Moment, I am no more your Mistress; but that Imperial Creature, your Master: and therefore know too, I will have my Foeminine Habiliments burnt instantly, and an Ope∣rator sent for to make me a Beard grow. I will learn to Ride, Fence, Vault, and make Fortifications in Dirt-Pyes: Nay, if the humour hold, I'll go Vo∣luntier into Germany against the Turk.

Chlor.

But what will be the end of all this, Madam?

Lucr.

Why, if I go into the War, I shall have the privilege, when I return home, to talk of Marches, Battels and Sieges, which I never was at, nor un∣derstand any more than the Fools I tell my story to. If I stay at home, with the privilege of good Cloaths, Pertness and much Simplicity, will I set up for a Spark, grow familiar at White-Hall, and impudent with some great Man there or another; run in Debt with a high Hand, be terrible in eating Houses, and noisy all over the Town.

Chlor.

A very hopeful Resolution.

Lucr.

As thus: When I and another Spark meet; Dam me, Iack, says I▪ What Times are there stirring? What ready to be had? What Caravans have you met with, or what Loose lately managed? You Rogue, you look very high upon the Huckle.

Chlor.

Well Madam; But what will all this Gibberish signifie?

Lucr.

Signifie, you Fool! why what it signifies already; Wit, Courage, Martial Discipline, Interest at Court, Pretence to Preferment, Free Quart••r•• in my Lodgings, and Free Booty in every Cuckold's Shop, who shall trust me against his palpable knowledge, that I'm not worth a Groat; and never have the Impudence to hope to be paid.

Chlor.

And must your Honour have a Mistress too?

Lucr.

Yes Huzzy, and you shall be serviceable to me in the matter: I'll have a Doxy this very Night; I have singled her out already; Courtin's Wife, that jealous, raging, insatiable Help-meet of the Captains shall be my Ducinea del Toboso. She's in Love with me already, that's my comfort: as I passed through the Hall just now, she coming into the House to pay a Visit to the Widow Por∣cia, (who, by the way, is as wicked as my self, and my great Councellor in this noble Project) we met: I, you must know, bow'd very respectfully; she ••aking me for a Stranger, Curt 'sy'd as low; and viewing me strictly leer'd at me, as if that Minute she took Aim at my Heart, and designed me for her Quarry.

Chlor.

But, Madam, she knows, and must discover you.

Lucr.

Thou art a fool: she never saw me till yesterday in her life-time, then too disguised: So that if I do not practise on her frailty, and by that means find a way to revenge my self on that Vizard-monger Beaugard, may I be con∣demn'd to wear Breeches as long as I live, and never know more than the pre∣sent use I make of them.

Chlor.

Hist Madam, she's returning.

Enter Sylvia.

Lucr.

Hush then: now my Cause is coming▪ on, and have at her.

Sylv.

Sweet-heart, pray oblige me so far to shew me the way to the Gar∣dens; I come to pay a Visit to Madam Porcia, and am informed she's gone there for the Air.—A very handsom Youth—

[Aside.

Chlor.

Madam, this young Gentleman here is com•• hither on the same kind Errand with your Ladyship, and waits till her Return.

Lucr.

But, Madam, the good fortune of seeing you is a happiness would re∣compence the being disappointed of all the Conversation of your Sex besides.

Sylv.

Indeed, Sir!

Lucr.

Yes indeed, Madam.

Sylv.

Are you a Relation to this Family, Sir?

Lucr.

Madam, the greatest Advantage I hope from the Family is, henceforth to have oftner the Honour of kissing your fair Hands here: It is an Opportunity I should make no Ungentlemanly use of.

Sylv.

Opportunity, Sir?

Lucr.

Yes, Opportunity Madam: I am not ashamed to mention so honest a Friend as Opportunity, to one that, by her Years and Beauty, should not, me∣thinks, be a mortal Foe to Opportunity.

Sylv.

Do you know me, Sir?

Lucr.

Why, Madam; do I treat you like a Stranger? Know you, by this good Hour, there has not been a Day or Night since I first saw you, that I have thought or dreamt of any thing else. Are no•• you the Wi••e of a certain swaggering Squire about this Town, who calls himself Captain Courtine?

Sylv.

Yes Sir; such a Friend in a Corner I have, Sir; and what have you to say to him, Sir? I'll swear, a very handsom Youth still.—

Lucr.

What, Madam! what I have to say to you, rather than lose you, I would say to him: which is, that I like you, love you, languish for you; and would, with all my Heart, Blood, Spirit and Flesh, ••—

Sylv.

I'll swear, Sir, I am mightily obliged to you, and so is Mr. Courtine; ha, ha, ha!—

Lucr.

Mr. Courtine! Take notice, Madam, I receive that Expression as kind∣ly as if you had called him what I wish him: for, pretty one, if my Intelli∣gence be true, he lives with your Ladyship as much like Mr. Courtine, as much like a Gentleman—

Sylv.

Sir!

Lucr.

Madam!

Sylv.

Oh Gaud! he's very handsom.

Lucr.

Shall we walk in these Gardens anon, for I have the priv••lege of a Key that opens into the Fields: The Moon shines too.

Sylv.

Between Ten and Eleven does the Moon shine?

Lucr.

As bright as any thing but your self.

Sylv.

But you'll tell, young Gentleman.

Lucr.

Only you how I love you.

Sylv.

Eleven's a late Hour.

Lucr.

Not too late.

Sylv.

Indeed!

Lucr.

Take this, and my Word for it.

[Kisses her.

Sylv.

Fye, how you use me, when you mean to forget me.

Lucr.

Hush, no more; Company's coming. Eleven.

Sylv.

Ten if you are kind enough.

Lucr.

Well said, my chast Sex.

Enter Porcia.

Porcia.

Oh Cousin, art thou come! Thou art the welcomest Creature on the Earth; I have expected thee almost to despair for these three Hours. Oh, Sir! your Servant.

Lucr.

I am here, Madam, in order to your Commands.

Sylv.

Her Commands!

Porcia.

Oh, Cousin, the prettiest best natur'd Youth! He is something re∣lated to us a great way off; and by that means has the privilege of Visiting, without offence to my jealous Brother in Law, and Tyrannical Guardian. Have you contriv'd that business?

Lucr.

Madam, it is done.

Sylv.

Bus'ness! What Bus'ness, Cousin? Lord, Cousin, you seem concern'd at it.

Porcia.

I'll tell thee: Seeing my self here consin'd to the Rules and Limits of a very Prison, I have resolv'd to put as good a face upon the matter as it will bear, and make my misfortune as easie as I can. Wherefore, for a little present diversion, I have contrived a Letter in an unknown name, by this young Agent here, and convey'd it to thy lewd Husband, with another in my own to Beau∣gard; and sent for thee, my Dear, to share in the pleasure of the Consequence.

Sylv.

Ha, ha ha! But what will be this Consequence, Cousin?

Porcia.

Twenty to one but it occasions some new Alarm, and Divertisement to my Jaylours; who are so very capricious, they would fancy a Rat behind

the Hangings for a concealed Lover. It may too, by chance, produce me some lucky opportunity once more to make my Escape out of their merciless Power. Nay, they are already half disposed to run away themselves; for by my Wo∣mans interest in the Chirurgeon, who has care of the swearing Atheistical Fel∣low, yesterday hurt in the scuffle, and afterwards conveyed hither, he gives it out, that he fears his Wounds may be mortal. Upon which, my Lover Gra∣tian sighs, and turns up his Eyes like a Godly Brother at Exercise. My Bro∣ther Theodoret puffs, swells, grinds his Teeth, and stamps as if he would brain himself against the next Wall; while poor Beaugard's ne'er be good Father has, with pure fear, lost a red Nose that has been his fast Friend for these 40 years; and every time he sees his Face in a Glass, fancies every Wrinkle there has the shape of a Gibbet.

Enter Phillis.

Phill.

Oh, my dear, dear Lady, what will become of us! the most unhap∣py Accident!

Porcia.

Hah!

Phill.

Indeed Madam, I could not possibly help it: I ha' lost it.

Porcia.

Lost it, lost what? What hast thou lost? Would thou hadst lost thy self; lost a Leg or an Arm, or any thing, rather than have put me in this fright. Speak, what is the matter?

Phill.

Oh, Madam, the Billet; Madam, the Billet.

Lucr. Sylv.

How's this?

Porcia.

What, the Note I sent to Beaugard?

Phill.

As I hope to see you happy, Madam, I put it as fast here between these two poor naked Breasts here, as ever it could stick, so I did, when, just as I was going forth, who should meet me but the old, wicked, ranting, roaring Gentleman that lies hid here for fear of hanging, would he had been well hang'd a Twelvemonth since; and there he fell a towzing, and a mowzing, and a meddling with me; I was never so afraid of being ravish'd in my life, Gad he knows: So in the struggle, I guess the Note was lost truly; though, in my heart, I wish I had been ravish'd six times over, rather than such a misfortune had hap∣pened. Nevertheless, I ha' done your bus'ness for you, so I have.

Porcia.

Bus'ness! what Bus'ness? Ugliness and ill Reputation light on thee. Thou hast undone and ruin'd me for ever.

Phill.

Why, I have met with the Captain, and told him the whole matter, as well as if he had read it in the Letter himself. He's but too kind a Man to you, and I too faithful a Servant, so I am, to be thus reviled and cursed by you, for all this.

Porcia.

What then did he say? Fool, Beast and Blockhead; tell me.

Phill.

Why, he said, he'd die a thousand and a thousand times for you, were it possible, so he did; and that that he will not eat, drink or sleep••till he has set you at liberty, so he wo'not; and that he will be in the Garden before Ten.

Lucr.

What's in this Case to be done, Madam?

Porcia.

O dearest Cousin, retire if you love me; for, should the Lords of my Liberty get any notice of this Billet, and find a Man here, notwithstanding

your Relation, who knows what ill usage it may aggravate!—To thy Chamber, dear Lucrece, e'er the Storm comes upon us,

[Aside.

Lucr.

I am all Obedience. Sweet Creature, you'll remember!

[To Sylvia.

Sylv.

It is not possible to forget you, surely.

Lucr.

Blessings on you for this Goodness.

[Kisses her Hand, and Exit.

Enter Theodoret in a Rage.

Theod.

Double Bar up all the Doors and Windows: Load all the Arms in the House, and be ready for Execution instantly, all of ye. By those Devils that dance in your gogling Eyes, Madam, I'll try if you have given, your self over to Hell so far, that you can out at a Key-hole.

Porcia.

What means the great He Brute?

Theod.

To cut off your Intelligence, Lady, and make thee, e'er I have done, to curse thy Father and Mother, that let thee learn to write. Seest thou this! thou irreclamable profligate Wretch! Fogh! Send you the draggle-tail'd Mi∣nister of thy lewd Affairs a hunting, full cry about the Town, upon the rank Scent of a Brawny-back'd Hector! By Heavens! the thought of it makes me loath the House, and fancy it stinks of the ••oul Sins thou hast imagined in it.

Porcia.

Thou barbarous, ill manner'd, worse than Beast! Why am I abus'd thus? Why made a Prisoner too, at your ••awcy Will? Fetter'd up, and barr'd all Liberty and Converse?

Theod.

For the same reason other too hot blooded Females are; because, if possible, I would not have a good Breed spoil'd.

Porcia.

What a Load of Dirt is the Thick-Skull cram'd withall, if the Tongue were able to throw it out!

Theod.

Filthy, filthy, fulsom filthy! What, be a Doll-Common, follow the Camp! How lovelily would your fair Ladyship look, mounted upon a Bag∣gage-Cart, presiding over the rest of the Captain's dirty Equipage!

Sylv.

If any thing in the World would make me follow a Camp, it would be a very strong fancy I have, that I should never see you in one, Sir.

Theod.

Your Ladyship has reason to defend the Souldiers Cause: You have married one, as I take it, Madam. Ha, ha, ha.

Porcia.

He in a Camp! He has not Courage enough to animate half a Tay∣lor, no•• good Nature enough to make a Spaniel of, or Sence enough, if he were that Animal, to learn to fetch and carry.

Theod.

This will open no Locks, Lady.

Porcia.

But there are Instruments to be had, that will break open Locks, Sir.

Theod.

Will you please to retire, and consider farther of that in your Chamber.

Porcia.

No, I'll not stir, Sir.

Theod.

Nay, by Heaven, but you shall, Madam.

Sylv.

Nay, by Heaven, but she shall not, Sir.

[Father at the Door.

Theod.

How!

Fath.

By Iove, and that's well said, I'll s••and still a little, and see what's the matter.

Theod.

Do not drive me to use Violence.

Fath.

How! Violence to a fair Lady! That's not so well, neither.

Porcia.

Heark you, Sir; my Jaylor, or my Hang-man; for which of the two your Office will end in, by your proceedings I cannot imagine: do but touch me, or offer the least force to compel me to a closer Confinement; by this injur'd Heart, I'll fire the House about your Asses Ears: I'll sooner burn with you, to be reveng'd, than endure such Insolence and Torment any longer.

Theod.

Very well.

Fath.

I Gad, a brave Girl, a delicate Wench! How my Fingers itch to take her part now! I have a Months mind to espouse her Quarrel, and make Friends with poor Iacky again. Honest Iacky! 'tis the best natur'd Boy in the World, though I was such a Beast to fall out with him.

Porcia.

Inhumane, cruel Theodoret! Why do you afflict me thus? Why do you force the Tears from my poor Eyes, and wrack a tender Heart that never wrong'd you?—

[Weeps.

Theod.

For your Souls Health, Lady; and the Welfare of your wasting Re∣putation. A Pox o'your Whining! Come, to your Chamber, to your Prayer-Book and Repentance: Fasting and Humiliation will be good for you. To your Chamber.

Porcia.

To my Grave first.

Theod.

Nay then—Wha, hoa!

[Offers to lay hold of h••r.

Porcia.

Stand off! Murder! Cramps, Rheums and Palsies, wither thy unmanly Hands.

Theod.

By Heav'n!

Porcia.

You dare not do't.

Theod.

Hah!

Sylvia.

No Sir, you dare not do't, you dare not.

Theod.

Avaunt Pass! Confound me, but I shall be scratch'd here presently for my patience.

Sylv.

What an ill bred Camel 'tis!

Fath.

Nay, and what's more; you shall not do't, you shall not; Sir Hoh! Is this the Issue of your honourable Pretensions?

Theod.

Et tu Brute!

Fath.

Brute, Brute! Brute me no Brutes Friend: Oonds I am a Man, Fel∣low; Battoons and Bilboes! Brut••! a Gentleman!

Theod.

Your Pardon, Sir!

Sylv.

Don't pardon him, Sir.

Enter Gratian leaning on a Staff.

Grat.

Oh, Friend!

Theod.

Poor Gratian.

Grat.

If ever we ought to do any thing for our Safety, let us now prepare, and look about us: I have made hard shift to hobble hither, my Wound's grown very troublesom▪—We are all lost.

Theod.

I can fear nothing when my Friend's so near me.

Sylv.

Now Cousin rebel, and force your Freedom nobly.

Fath.

Iacky, I hope. Iacky at the Head of Mirmidons, and declaring for his Property. Look you, Gentlemen; I must confess, I have Remorse of Conscience, and am sensible I have been a Rebel: wherefore, if my Liege Son and Heir have recruited his Power, and be once more up in Arms, Loyalty and Natural Affection, Friends, will work, I must pronounce for Prince Iacky; and here I resolve to defend his Territories.

[Draws a broad Sword.

Grat.

If Prince Iacky have Interest enough to get your Pardon for Murder, Sir, it will be your best way to close with him; for, in short, the Atheist Dar∣devill, your Antagonist, is dead Sir.

Theod.

Hah! Dead!

Fath.

Dead!

Gratian.

Yes dead, Sir.

Sylv.

So much the better. Porcia, let us run up to the Leads, and cry out Murder to the Streets this Moment.

Fath.

Then I find that I am but a short liv'd Sinner; farewell for ever old Hock, Sherry, Nutmeg and Sugar, Seven and Eleven; Sink-Tray, and the Doublets! Never comes better of rebleting against one's natural born Children. I shall be hanged one of these Sun-shiny Mornings, and a Ballad come out in the Afternoon to a lamentable Eighty eight Tune of the careful Son, and pro∣digal Father. Dead said you, Sir.

Grat.

Or, at least, cannot survive half an Hour; therefore it is my Opinion that we instantly quit the House, and provide all for our Safety.

Theod.

Confusion, Devils!

Porcia.

Nay, Sir; stand fast! dare but to open a Door, Sir; by Heav'n, that Moment I'll alarm the Town: you shall not think to escape, reeking with a poor Man's Blood, shed in defence of me.

Theod.

Lady, no fooling.

Porcia.

No Sir, no fooling: but now, Sir, do you to your Chamber, Sir, to your Chamber; to your Prayer-Book and Repentance; Fasting and Humilia∣tion will be good for you: To your Chamber, Sir; as you tender your Neck, Sir.

Theod.

Damnation! Unhand me!

Porcia.

I'll dye e'er I'll unhold you. Think you so barb'rously to leave me here in the House with a dead Wretch, and have the Punishment of his horrid Murder light on my innocent Head.

Theod.

What do you resolve to do, Sir?

Fath.

Do, Sir! What can I resolve to do, Sir? I have no means to hope to escape, Sir: for, in the first place, I have no Money; and a Man that kills another, without Money in his pocket, is in a very hopeful condition. In the next place, for a disguise, I have no Cloaths but these you see on my Back; with this Tripe-Buff Belt here, which there is not a Constable in the whole City but knows, and has had in his Custody, Sword and all. Look you, Gentle∣men, I have civilly kill'd a Man for your Service; if you will resolve, fairly and squarely, to hang like Friends together, so: If not, I mutiny; and the word is, Discover the Plot, the old Boy must impeach.

Enter Rosard.

Ros.

Oh, Sir! where are you?

Grat.

Well, Rosard; what's the News now?

Ros.

The Gentleman, Heav'n be thanked, is reviv'd again, Sir; though the Doctors say, such another Fit will certainly carry him off. The poor Crea∣ture is very weak, but very penitent.

Fath.

In troth, and that's a very ill Symptom; therefore my Opinion is still—I am for hanging all together.

Theod.

Heark you, old Rust; you say you have no Money, wherefore, du∣ring the present Interval, in the first place, because I will have no Mutiny up∣on this occasion; in order to your Escape, there's Money for you: in the next place, as you want Change of Rayment, here is the Key of a small Wardrobe, at the lower end of the Gallery above, you'll find the Door to it: Equip your self, and provide for your Security, as your best Discretion shall direct you.

Fath.

Look you, Friend, the sooner the better; for, to tell you the truth, else I shall make but a scurvy matter of it at Tyburn Cross; with a whining, snivling Account of breaking the Sabbath, and keeping ill Company. Where∣fore, not being good at making Speeches, I will leave the Opportunity to you, of shewing your politer Rhetorick, and save a Member of the Common∣wealth— There's no great harm in Murder, when it brings a Man Money.

[Aside, and Exit.

Porcia.

And now, my Tyrant Brother, I hope we stand on even Terms.

Theod.

No, Lady, not yet: There's Life return'd, and therefore hopes still, though, at present, in some measure to comply with you, and ease your Ap∣prehensions, within the Limits of the House and Gardens you are at your Li∣berty, but no farther this Night: And, for your ampler satisfaction, if I have any Midnight Alarms from your Correspondent abroad, there's Entertain∣ment ready for him, which he may not be very fond of; so Good Night, it is almost Ten. Who waits? What hoa, be ready there. Come Gratian, I'll see you to your Repose, and then to my Post of Guard.

Porcia.

Ten! That was the Hour, Phillis, Beaugard mentioned; was it not?

Phill.

It was, Madam.

Pore.

Be ready then, all ye propitious Powers, that smile on faithful Love; Wait, like kind Angels, on him; Establish Conquest in his able Hand, and Kindness in his Heart. Oh, Sylvia▪

Sylv.

You are transported, Cousin!

Pore.

With hopes of Liberty I am indeed: it is an English Woman's natu∣ral Right. Do not our Fathers, Brothers and Kinsmen often, upon pretence of it, bid fair for Rebellion against their Soveraign; And why ought not we, by their Example, to rebel as plausibly against them?

Sylv.

Most edifying Doctrine this is, truly.

[A Whi••tle without.

Porcia.

The Sign! Heark, the Sign! Phillis, heard you nothing?

[Whistle again.

'Tis there again; he's true, and I am happy. Sylvia, let us retire our selves; you know your old Apartment, for pretious mischief will be soon on foot; and Action worthy Love's great Cause. Thy Husband too, may chance to

have his share in the bus'ness; and, as I have order'd Matters, meet some∣thing in the Adventure, to mortifie his roving Humour, and reconcile him to his Duty and Allegiance.—Heark:

[Whistle again.

There, 'tis once more a Summons to the Citadel to surrender. This shall, in after Story, be call'd, Captain Beaugard's besieging of the Widow.

Which, as 'tis laid sure, with Success must end, Since Justice does his Enterprize attend Without, and powerful Love within's his Friend.

SCENE changed to Fields on the Back-side of a Garden

Enter Beaugard, with a Party.

Beaug.

Hold, stand fast; I have just now receiv'd Intelligence over the Gar∣den-Wall, that our design has taken air, and there will be no easie Entrance.

1. Man.

Ah Captain; the time has been, when, under your Command, we should have had no need of a Council of War for the attacking such a For∣tification as this is.

Beaug.

Peace Plunder, Peace you Rogue; no Moroding now: we'll burn, rob, demolish and murder another time together: This is a Bus'ness must be done with Decency.—Heark.

2. Man.

Some Company coming, Sir, from the Back-Street Ward.

Beaug.

Hold then, Plunder: Do you, with your flying Party, hover at a distance about the Fields; while I, with the rest of the Body, post my self as advantagiously as I can, to watch the Enemies Motions.—

[Exeunt.

Enter Theodoret and his Party.

Theod.

This way the noise was: Be sure keep safe the Garden Gate, and follow me carefully.

[Exit Theod.

Enter Courtine.

Court.

So, here I am; and now for my Instructions. Let me see.

[Reads the Billet.

Pray come disguised, that if the Design should miscarry, your Retreat may be the ea∣sier. Your unknown blushing Servant—Humph! Blushing Servant! Passingly modest, I'll warrant you! Pray come disguised! So I am, or the Devil's in't; for I look more like a Cut-throat, than any thing else. Let me see; Upon this very Spot, the last time I was here, did I meet my damn'd Wife: Avert the Omen, sweet Heaven, I beseech thee. And now, as I am considering, where can my Friend Beaugard be at present too? With a Whore. There's that Question answer'd. Wherefore, would but my unknown blushing Ser∣vant appear, or give me a kind Sign; would but my little Partridge call, me∣thinks I could so shuckle, and run, and Bill, and clap my Wings about her. Hah!

[Turns about.

Enter Theodoret.

Theod.

Stand: Who goes there?

Court.

What's the matter now?

•• Serv.

Stand, Sir: What are you, Sir?

Court.

What am, I, Sir! A Man, Sir.

Theod.

A Man, Sir, we see you are: But what Man are you, Friend?

Court.

A Gentleman, Friend; and you had best use me so.—By Heaven, Theodoret; and if I am but discover'd!

Theod.

Hands off, unloose him. You are not him we look for, Sir.

Court.

I am glad of that with all my Heart.

Theod.

And therefore I ask your Pardon. But, if you are a Gentleman, you will assist one in me, that have been injured. I have reason to believe, my House is now beset by Villains, who have base designs upon the Honour of my Family. Wherefore, if you are what you pretend, you'll draw your Sword to do a good Cause Justice.

Court.

Sir, I wear it for no other end; and you shall command it.—Ay, 'tis so Beaugard; upon new Exploits for the Recovery of his Widow. No∣thing but Knight-Errantry stirring this Moon.

Theod.

Please you then, Sir, to stay here with my Servants, while I walk to the Corner of yon Wall, and try what I can discover.

[Exit Theod.

Court.

You may trust me, Sir. Now will I shew my self a true Renegado; take Entertainment in Christian Service, to betray 'em to my Brother Turk, upon the first opportunity. And so, my blushing Unknown, you may e'en stay your Stomach with your Sheets for this Night.

Re-enter Theodoret.

Theod.

They are here, stand fast; be resolute, and be rewarded.

Enter Lucrece.

Lucr.

Now, for a convenient Opportunity to do a mischief: Beaugard, I find, is come, and my kind Mistress punctual to Appointment in the Garden. Now, could I but order the Affair so, as to slur Beaugard upon her, instead of my self; and her upon him, instead of Porcia, my Conscience would be satis∣fied; and he, Mr. Courtine, my Rival Widow, and the Wi••e serv'd all in their kind.

Theod.

Hold, Sir; What are you?

[To Beaugard at the Entrance.

Court.

Ay; Now, now.

Beaug.

No matter, Sir; this is not a time of Night to answer Questions.

Theod.

Nay, then.—

Beaug.

Nay, now Sir; and when else you think fitting, Sir: I am the Man you look for; and you are him I wisht to meet here.

Court.

Now how the Devil I shall do to tilt Booty; Hang me like a Dog if I can imagine.

Beaug.

Come on there.

Theod.

You pass upon your death.

Beaug.

I have learnt to scorn death more since first you threatned it▪ I see your Numbers too, and come prepar'd, Porcia's my Claim, and here I'll win or lose her.

Theod.

Then take thy due; and dye like a midnight Thief. Fall on.

[Beaug. and Theod. engage, and their Parties. Beaug. and Theod. quit each other. Beaug. fa••••s upon Courtine, and Theod. upon Beaug. Party; who retire from him, ••s Court. does from Beaug. off from the Stage.

Theod.

He runs, he runs; the Half-bred Hector runs. False Cards and Diee, and Quart-pot Brothel-Brawles, were ••itter for his Management, than honou∣rable Difference: Heark, Clashing of Swords still, by Heaven I miss our Friend the honourable Stranger, that so generously took our Party; if it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 him, let's out, and give him succor.

Enter Beaugard driving in Courtine, ••ho retires beyond the reach of his Sword.

Beaug.

Base Rascal! Coward flie!—

Court.

No, Sir, I stand ••••ock still, and won't stir an Inch; but since you are so uncivil, resolve not to ••ight a stroke more: So there's my Sword, and here's your humble Servant.

Beaug.

Courtine!

Court.

The same.

Beaug.

And thou my Enemy too••

Court.

No, Sir, your Friend, had you been wise enough to have found it; I came hither disguis'd, for a Reason you shall know hereafter; But falling into the hands of the Enemy, was forced to take Party against you, for fear of be∣ing beaten for you: Yet with a design of revolting would you have given me leave; but you, when you should have kept at the head of your Friends▪ took a particular fancy to be tickling my small guts, and now you s••e what you have got by it.

Beaug.

Then farewel for ever poor Widow.—But stay, it were base and unmanly to give it over so—Let me see—Lend me thy Disguise, Quickly, quickly, quickly, my Imagination's warm.

Court.

Ay, with all my heart, and glad to be rid of it so—

[Disguises Beaug.

Beaug.

Take this, and rally my scatter'd Forces,

[Gives him his Whistle.

They know the sign; and cannot be far off under the conduct of Plunder that was my Serjeant abroad, thou know'••t him; make what haste is possible, I'll be hereabouts, and be near me, if any new Disaster should happen.

Court.

Well, with all my heart for once, here is a new design in Embrio now, though I fancy when we have got her, we shall never make of this Widow what she has co••t us.

Beaug.

No more; I hear Company▪ Vanish.—

[Exit Court. Enter Theod.

Theod.

This way I think I heard it: Look, Is not that he! Oh my dean ge••∣nerous Friend, let me embrace you: I hope you are come off well.

Beaug.

Very well, Sir, I thank you, if I were but well off from this place; I fear the man I had to deal withall is fallen, for I left him stagg'ring. Secu∣rity were best for us all, Sir.

Theod.

My house shall be your Sanctuary, and I'll dye with you but I'll pro∣tect you.

Beaug.

I gad, and that's kindly said, as things stand between us, and if he knew all.

[Aside.

Theod.

Open the Garden-gate there: You shall rest your self in an Arbor, while I dispose of the gross of my Family, and prepare an Apartment for your privacy.

Beaug.

If I had dy'd in your Quarrel, Sir, a Generosity like this had over-rewarded it.

[Courtine at the Entrance.

Court.

Stand still ye beaten scatter'd Scoundrels, I think that's he, follow me but at a distance.

Theod.

Open the Gate I say there, come Sir—

[They enter the Garden.

Court.

The Stratagem succeeds, and Troy at last is taken.

Enter Lucrece.

Lucr.

Oh dear Sir, are not you Captain Beaugard?

Court.

The same, my dear Child, the same; Hast thou any good tydings for me?

Lucr.

The private door of the Garden on the other side is opened, and you may enter Sir. My poor Lady is dying almost with despair, that she shall never see you more: Could you now tell me news of Captain Courtine?

Court.

Hah! Does then my Blushing unknown belong to these Territories? It must be so, Captain Courtine is just gone in before Sweet-heart, therefore if thou art a true Friend to Love, quickly conduct me.

Lucr.

I'll shew you, Sir, into the door where you may conceal your self in one of the Arbors till I go through the House, and bring you farther intelli∣gence.

Court.

And if my Adventure happen really to be at the end of this business, my Friend and I shall not, I fancy, pass our time very uncomfortably.

[Exeunt.

Rogues••follow me, follow me Rogues.

SCENE, The Garden.

Beaugard looking out of an Arbor.

Beaug.

So, so, thus far I am undiscovered; it is as dark, as if the Devil him∣self were abroad a solacing amongst a Company of Northern Witches to Nigh••: if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 be but enter'd with my Mermidons, the Widow's in••allibly all my own. 〈◊〉〈◊〉! Who comes here?

Enter Lucrece.

Lucr.

Sir, Sir, where are you?

Beaug.

Here, here, my Friend, I wait you.

Lucr.

Friend! Is not your Name?—

Beaug.

My Name, what! what can this mean?—

[Aside.

Lucr.

Beaugard, Come, come, I know you: You need not distrust your self, my design is to do you service; your Porcia knows you are here, and expects you with her Arms open, follow me.

Beaug.

Be thou my good or bad Angel, at the charm of that name I must follow thee, though thou lead me to Perdition.

Lucr.

Softly, no noise, this way, give me your hand.

[Exeunt.

Enter Courtine.

Court.

Hold, let me see; Ay, there I think is an Arbor where I will creep in, and lie as close, as a Coward in the Hold at a Sea-fight.

Enter Theodoret.

Theod.

Hereabouts it was I left him, it is wonderfully dark: Friend! Friend! Where are you?

Court.

Hah! that's another sort of Voice than the Youngsters I depend on: By Heav'n, Theodoret!

[Aside.

Theod.

Friend, Friend, I say, where are you?

Court.

Ay, but the Devil a word you get of me.

[Aside.

Theod.

Why, Sir Friend, do not you hear me?

Court.

No.

[Aside.

Theod.

I am sure this must be the Arbor; I'll run and call a Flamb••aux.

Court.

That may not be so well neither, my affairs will not agree with the light as I take it.

[Aside.

Theod.

May be he's fallen asleep, let me see.

[Gropes into the Arbor, and feels him.

'Tis even so: What hoa, Sir!—

[Courtine snores.

Friend, Friend, awake, your Chamber's ready, and I stay for you.

Court.

Who's there? What are you?

[Aloud, as if frighted suddenly.

Theod.

Hush, make no noise; but come away.

Court.

Is it you, Sir?—He mistakes me for Beaugard, I hope.

Theod.

The same: I wait upon you, follow me.

Court.

If he discover me, all again is ruin'd; but Darkness, I hope, and Impudence, will befriend a good Cause.

SCENE, Dardevill's Chamber,

With only one small Lamp burning, and Dardevill on the Bed.

Dard.

Oh! oh! oh! my Wounds and my Sins! Conscience, Conscience, Conscience, how shall I quiet thee!

[Beaug Father at the door.

Fath.

This cowardly Chicken-hearted Rascal will dye, and be damn'd at last. How do you do Sir? How do you find your self?

Dard.

Oh very ill, Heav'n knows! within few hours of a Grave, and with∣out great mercy of a deeper place: Who ever you are, if you have any Chari∣ty, procure me some Conscientious Godly Divine to unburden my self of my iniquity to.

Fath.

This puling, whining, repining Rogue, within these two days was blaspheming: Ought I to be hang'd now for such a Varlet! Shall I send you a Divine, said you Sir?

Dard.

It would be a great Favour, and a Comfort to me, Sir.

Fath.

I'll try what I can do for you, since I see your condition so dangerous, a Pox o'yr Queasy Conscience: There is no safety for me in staying here, that's one thing, the House being certainly beset for the apprehending some body: For looking out at the Wardrobe Window as I was dressing my self, I observed six or seven arm'd Rogues with hangmanly Faces, sneaking and sculking about the Garden, that's another thing; wherefore I will hasten and finish my dis∣guise, and if there come an Alarum, take the fairest opportunity to get off in it, and that for me will be the best thing.

[Exit Father.

Enter Courtine.

Court.

To what an insignificant purpose have I taken all this pains to night, here have I been put into a Room with a Bed in it, with pray, Sir, will you be pleased to take your rest in the Devil's Name; when my design has not been to take my rest, but my Recreation: I fancy I heard a kind, small com∣plaining Voice this way too, and must at present confess my self in a very good natur'd humor, very much inclined to succor any distressed Damsel that wants a Companion to pass away a tedious Night withall.

Dard.

Oh! oh! Would but this dear Man come now!

Court.

Hah! heark! That must certainly be me she means; nay, I am sure on't: I'll on a little farther.

Dard.

Oh h h!

Court.

Where art thou, thou poor Creature? I am come to comfort thee.

Dard.

I wish you had come a little sooner, I am very ill.

Court.

Alas, kind So••••, she's sick with passionate expectation: This must be my blushing, unknown Servant at the least.

Dard.

Whereabouts are you? Give me your hand hither, will you?

Court.

Here, here it is, and my heart too, thou hast 'em both: I'll swear

she has a well grown palm, by the Rule of proportion I'll warrant her a Swin∣ger: —but no matter 'tis in the dark.

[Aside.

Dard.

Heart, said you Sir? Alas! my poor heart's breaking.

Court.

Breaking, dear Soul! No, no, never fear it, I'll give thee a Re••••pe to keep it whole. I'll warrant thee: This is the most Romantick Adventure.

[Falls to undressing himself.

Poirca and Phillis at the door.

Poirca.

Has then Beaugard gotten entrance art thou sure?

Court.

Hah!

Phillis.

Madam so sure; that his Valet Fourbine is here in the House, and told me so himself.

Court.

What's that?

Porcia.

Then now my part begins: Was there ever such inhumane Cruelty committed, a Wretch barbar••usly murder'd and expos'd, without comfort or succor?

Court.

Murder, said they? What, Manslaying! when all my thoughts were upon nothing but Manmaking. I gad then 'tis time that I take care for one, and till a better conveniency offer it self, here's my Burrough, murder in the Devil's name. What do they say now?

[Creeps under the Bed.

Porcia.

No, no, my Conscience will not bear it, I must proclaim it to the World: What hoa there, Murder, Murder, Murder.

Court.

Oh Lord, here's a comfortable Condition that I am got into.

Porcia.

But does the Chyrurgeon say there is certainly no danger?

Phillis.

Only a thin skin Wound on the outside of his Belly; but that the force of Fear in the Cowardly-hearted Fellow, will let him think of nothing but a Grave and Damnation.

Porcia.

The present advantage of it then must be improv'd: wherefore I say the stinging of my Conscience will not let me rest, I dare not conceal this Murder. Murder, Murder, Murder! Cry Murder you Witch, and alarm the House.

Phillis.

Here is somebody coming already, Madam.

Porcia.

Stand still, and observe then.

Enter Beaugard.

Beaug.

I think it was this way, but no matter, for I am sure I reign Lord P••••amount of this Castle now: The ang•••• jealous Brother is gone to Bed, and all his wa•• like Family, where he lies as 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and snores and gapes so wide, one might steal the Widow out of his mouth if she were there: Now could I but find the way to her Ladiship's Chamber, while Plunder is according to Or∣ders, with his Crew binding the drowzy Rogues of the Family in their Beds! What an opportunity would that be! For there is but one way of making a slippery Widow sure to you.

Porcia.

No matter, happen how it will, I say again it is a Crying Sin, it is an Abomination, 'tis a—Ah!

[Seeing Beaug. disguis'd, is frighted, and runs out.

Beaug.

Hah! What do Ghosts walk here at this time o'Night, and in Petti∣coats too; Nay, then have at you: Ye Airy Forms.

[Going out, is met by his Father, disguis'd like a Phanatique Preacher.

Fath.

Yes, verily, and indeed it is an Abomination, a burning Shame, and a lewd Abomination.

Beaug.

Hell and the Devil! My Spirit in Petticoats that squeak'd Abomina∣tion in Ela, converted to the fleshly ••imilitude of a Holy Brother, that Cants it in Gamut—Hoh! Speak, what art thou?

Fath.

A Minister of Peace to wounded Consciences; I come here by ap∣pointment with an Olive Branch in my mouth, to visit a mortal Ark toss'd and floating in flouds of its own Tears, for its own Frailties.

Beaug.

And are you really, Sir, a Man? Really the Godly Implement you ap∣pear to be, for the scowring of foul Consciences.

Dard.

Ha! ha! ha! Godly Implement, it has almost made me laugh; that's a merry Gentleman, I'll warrant him: Oh h h!

Fath.

I am, Friend, I tell thee, an instructer of the Chosen: Thou favour'st of the old Man, stand off, and do not pollute me with too near communicati∣on: I come to convert a Sinner to the Truth, it was I that converted—as some say no body; and expounded the groans of the Protestant Board. How fareth our Brother?

Dard.

Alas, Sir, very weak; upon the point of Dissolution, and tormented with the stings of a terrify'd Conscience.

Fath.

Lay then one hand upon thy heart.

Dard.

I do so.

Fath.

Lend me the other; that in the pouring forth thy sins, thy right hand may not know what thy left hand doth.

Beaug.

A very material Point that is truly.

Fath.

Thou hast lived in Wickedness long.

Dard.

From Sixteen to Eight and Forty, without the least Repentance, or a thought of it.

Fath.

A very dangerous state; but for thy darling Sins, Imprimis, what?

Dard.

Drunkenness.

Fath.

A very pernicious sin, and of the Devil's own institution; for it sets our Souls a fire: Nay, it sets our Noses o'fire, and sets Houses o'fire. Drun∣ken••••ss!— Did you ever burn any Houses?

Dard.

Never but three, and they Houses of pollution too: Bawdy-houses, Sir.

Fath.

So much the worse: For if Bawdy-houses be burnt, what civil Fa∣mily in this City sleeps safe? I never burnt a Bawdy-house in my life, that's my comfort. Item.

Dard.

Whoredom, Adultery!

Fath.

For Adultery, I mean corrupting of other mens Wives, let me tell you it is a crying Sin, and a very loud one too; but do you repent?

Dard.

From the Bottom of my heart.

Beaug.

So, Heav'n be thanked, there's no harm in plain Whoredom.

Fath.

No more to be said then; be comforted, and I'll absolve thee: But with whom was this Wickedness committed last?

Dard.

With my Bosom Friend's Wife, and one that deserv'd much better of me.

Beaug.

And that was very friendly done of thee truly.

Fath.

Impudent Rogue! But was she very young?

Beaug.

Ay, now the feeling, circumstantial Questions are starting.

Dard.

About Eighteen; and not yet wedded a full year.

Fath.

Voluptuous Dog! But handsom too? Was she very handsom?

Dard.

Too beautiful, to have had so little Virtue.

Fath.

Her Name, her Name! Tell me her Name. Quickly, I say unto thee, let me know her Name.

Beaug.

Well said, well said there, old Fornication!

Dard.

That I have promised shall for ever be a Secret, Sir.

Fath.

Then thou art damn'd, and I do not absolve thee. I must know this precious young Harlot.

[Aside.]

Once more I say her Name!

Dard.

But I have sworn, Sir; you'd not have me be forsworn?

Fath.

A mortal Sin in it self: Swearing is another Sin. Farewel, I'll have no more to do with thee: Thy Sins are of too deep a Dye, and Satan be upon thee, a damn'd Rogue not to tell me her Name.

Dard.

Oh! oh! dear Sir, come back again, and leave me not in this despe∣ràte, desponding, sad condition.

[Exit Father.

If he has any mercy in this Case but upon his own conditions, he's no Father of mine I am sure on't.

[Aside.

Enter Lucrece.

Lucr.

Oh, Sir, I am glad I have met with you, a word with you in private, turn, turn this way into the next Room quickly, Porcia, Porcia, your Widow Porcia, Sir.

Beaug.

Hah! speak, where is she, thou pretty, smiling Mercury!

Lucr.

I am to bring her to you this moment: No more words, but in Sir, in, if you'll be happy.

Court.

Porcia, Porcia, said he? Then I am sure it must be Beaugard, a pretty Pimp that I'll warrant him.

[Aside.

Beaug.

And shall I trust thee?

Lucr.

Why should I deceive you?

Beaug.

Be sure thou dost not, as thou lovest the welfare of this soft, tender outside; adi••u for a minute.

[Exit.

Lucr.

That minute gives her to your possession, Sir—Hist, Madam, Hist! The Coast is now clear.

Sylvia.

Where are you ill nature?

Lucr.

Here, tortur'd with my Longings: Where are you? come, come.

Sylvia.

Why do you make me do this?

Lucr.

Is that a Question now? Turn, turn into the dark Chamber: I'll but secure this Door, and then the Night's our own.

Sylvia.

Don't stay too long.

Court.

How afraid she is, le••t he should come again too soon!

[Aside.

Lucr.

Be satisfi'd, I'll fly—that is from you as fast as I can, for I hope I have fitted you.

[Exit Sylvia.

Court.

Nay, faith, if this be the Custom of the House, I'll lu••k here no longer: The Devil again!

Re-enter Father.

Fath.

Trouble me no more, I say I will not be persuaded, I will know the Adultresses Name, that I may admonish her; for it has been of ancient pra∣ctice in these our pious Offices, to make our Converts conf••ss not only all they know, but all that we have a mind to know.

Dard.

Not Sir, I hope, if it be improper.

Fath.

No matter for that, proper or improper, right or wrong true or false, if it be for our use, it must be confessed. Therefore I say, and say again, I do not absolve thee, thou art in the state of Perdition still; tell me her Name, or for thy Drunkenness, and burning of Houses; Thy Whoredoms, and Adulte∣ries; Blasphemy, and Profaness; Thy Swearing, and Forswearing; Thy rub∣bing out Milk-scores, and lamb-blacking of Signs in Covent-Garden; Thy breaking of Windows, killing Constables and Watchmen, Beadles, Taylors, Hackney-Coachmen and Link-Boys: for all these—

[Noises of squeaking from each side of the Stage, one from Sylvia, Heark there the screaming Fiends are at thy door already. Heark, screame again.

Court.

Nay, Madam, if you squeak, and think to alarum the House, I do not behave my self like a true Friend to Love, I am mistaken, and so here I am posted, and thus will maintain the Pass.

[Goes to the door where Beaug. and his wife are, and draws his sword to defend it.

Lucr.

at the door.

Well said, my civil, dear and friendly Cuckold.

Enter Theodoret and Porcia crying.

Theod.

Come forth thou Strumpet.

Porcia.

Nay, cruel Theodoret, do not, do not kill me: here on my knees.

Court.

How's this? Porcia taken there, and my Friend here in private with Porcia too!

Theod.

By Heav'n thou dy'st this moment.

Court.

By Hell though but she shall not, Sir.

Enter Sylvia, and Beaugard pursuing her.

Beaug.

Nay, Madam, then! how's this? My Widow split in twain! My Porcia there, and Porcia here too? Con••ound me Courtine's Wife▪ I have done finely.

Theod.

You'll justifie this usage?

Court.

You see, Sir, I am r••sponsible.

[Shews him Beaug.

Beaug.

By Heav'n unhand her, or—Nay, look Sir well, you'll know me.

[Throws off his disguise.

Porcia.

My faithful Souldier!

Beaug.

My victorious Widow!

[She runs into his Arms.

Theod.

Call up my Servants there, raise all the Houshold.

Beaug.

I'l do't Sir—

[Gives the Sign, Plunder and his Party appear.

See, here are those that are ready to wait on you, if you have any service to command them.

Theod.

And I will find'em service that shall warm'em.

[Exit.

Court.

Now, I fancy, by this Lady's concealing her self, she may be a disco∣very worth the making. Madam, you see here my Friend is unconstant, but truly nothing could ever wean him from this Widow here—Sylvia! My Wife! my rigid vertuous Wife! my damn'd, confounded, jealous Wife!

Beaug.

Now here are very hopeful matters towards.

Court.

It was very courteously done of me, Beaugard, was it not, to keep the door for you, with my own Wife, Sir?

Beaug.

Nay, let us not quarrel Ned: I'll give thee a friendly account of this matter to morrow between our selves, in the mean time be satisfi'd, I have not wrong'd thee.

Porcia.

Will you never leave this Foraging into other Folks Quarters, Captain?

Beaug.

I am afraid, Widow of mine, you had a finger in the Plot, though—

Sylvia.

Indeed, my dearest.

Court.

Your humble Servant, my Dearest! I am only glad of this fair op∣portunity, to be rid of you, my Dearest: henceforth, my Dearest, I shall drink my drink, my Dearest, I shall whore my Dearest; and so long as I can pimp so handsomly for you, my Dearest, I hope if ever we return into the Coun∣trey, you'll wink at a small Fault now and then with the Dairy-Wench, or Chamber-Maid, my Dearest.

Sylv.

I always was a Burden to your sight, and you shall be this time eas'd on't.

[Exit.

Court.

With all my heart! Heav'n grant it would last for ever.

Enter Theodoret.

Theod.

My Doors lockt up! My Servants gag'd and bound! I am betray'd, undone, and I'll not live to bear it.

Beaug.

Nay, hold, Sir, none of that neither: This Design was not laid for a Tragedy.

Theod.

How do you intend to deal with me?

Beaug.

Like a Gentleman, Sir, though you hardly deserve it of me: In short, this Lady is in my Charge now, and you in my power, and by her Au∣thority, this being her own House, I have made thus bold with it, and will take care to dispose hereafter out of the reach of your merciless Tyranny, nay, if this reverend person will do us the friendly Office, though I have often re∣nounc't it, am ready to do it one way this moment. Dardevil, wilt thou lend me thy Chaplain?

Dard.

Heh!

Porcia.

Rise, Sir! Won't you rise? If your old Friend and I make a match on't, I hope you'll be so kind to dance at the Wedding.

Dard.

Dance, Madam! I am dying.

Phillis.

That's false, to my knowledge, Madam: for the Surgeon told me last dressing, it was so slight a Wound, he had much ado to keep it from heal∣ing.

Dard.

Yes, by the same token when he had done with me, he began with you, forsooth, and said he would shew you a little of his operation, for hand∣ling and tampering with his Box of Instruments, and there's the truth-out now.

All.

Ha! ha! ha! ha!

Dard.

Why Gentlemen, Ladies, Friends, Acquaintance, Am not I dying? Am not I wounded? Is not there a Hole in my belly, that you may turn a Coach and six in?

Beaug.

No, no: Prithee leave raving, and get up for shame, man: Thou an Atheist, thou believe neither a God nor a Devil, and be afraid of a hurt no bigger than a Pin-hole! Courtine, lend us thy hand to raise up our old Friend here: Well, how is't now?

[Set him on his Legs.

Dard.

Hah! Faith and Troth, I fancy, not so bad as I thought it was. Methinks I begin to find my self pretty hearty; I can stand, I can walk too, I have no pain at all. How dost thou do,

Strikes him on the Shoulder, which shakes the Disguise from his Face.

old Orththodox?

Court.

Ah! but you repented, Dardevill; thou didst repent, Friend: I am sorry to hear of it with all my heart, it will be a soul blot in thy Escutcheon: But thou didst repent.

Fath.

A Pox on the Block-head, now I shall be known

Fumbling to six his Disguise again.

Dard.

Repent! Prithee be quiet, Man: Repent, quotha! Why, dost thou think I did not know my old Customer for two Deuces here, old Anti-Abra∣ham, the Father of Unbelievers?

Fath.

My Iacky! my little Rogue! my dainty Boy! Thou Son of thy nown Father, I can hold no longer; and I must kiss thee, and I will kiss thee, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 you Dog, you Dog, you Dog, you little dear damn'd Dog.

[Sing Old Simon.

Huzza, the Widow's our own: There lie Divinity.

Beaug.

A very Cutter, as I live, had he but a Tabith••, a perfect Cutter.

Fath.

Now, Iacky Boy; Iacky, you Rogue, shall not I have a little spill out of this Portion now, hah? The jolly Worms that have fatten'd so long in this Malmsey Nose of mine with the Fumes of Sack will die, and drop out of their Sockets else. Couldst thou have the Heart to see this illuminated Nose of mine look like an empty Honey-Comb; Couldst thou be so hard hearted?

Porcia.

Faith, Captain, be mollify'd; the old Gentleman, methinks, pro∣poses very moderately.

Fath.

It shall be so: She shall be my Daughter in Law, though I invert the Order of Duty, and ask her Blessing.

Beaug.

Look you, Sir: Though you have been a very ungratious Father, upon condition that you'll promise to leave off Gaming, and stick to your Who••ing and Drinking, I will treat with you.

Fath.

The truth on't is, I have been too blame, Iack! But thou shalt find me hereafter very obedient; that is, provided I have my Terms: which are these.

Beaug.

Come on, then.

Fath.

Three Bottles of Sack, Iack, per diem, without Deduction, or false Measure: Two Pound of Tobacco per Month; and that of the best too.

Court.

Truly this is but reasonable.

Fath.

Buttock-Beef and March-Beer at Dinner, you Rogue: A young Wench of my own chusing, to wait on no body but me always: Money in my Pocket: An old Pacing Horse, and an Elbow-Chair.

Beaug.

Agreed. You see, Sir, already, I am beginning to settle my Fami∣ly; and all this comes by the Dominion Chance has over us. By Chance you took the Charge of an old Father off from my Hands and made a Chaplain of him. By the same sort of Chance I have taken this Lady off from your Hands, and intend to make her another sort of Domestick. What say you, Sir? Are you contented?

Theod.

I cannot tell whether I am or no.

Beaug.

Then you are not so wife a Man as I took you for. In the mean time; for your Liberty, you must dispense with the want of it, till I have this Night secured the Safety of my Widow. Your Friend Gratian, because of his Wounds, is only lock'd in his Chamber, and may take his Rest as otherwise. For the other part of the Family, I care not to make Excuses.

Thus still, with Power in hand, we treat of Peace; But when 'tis ratify'd, Suspicions cease: The Conquer'd to recruiting Labours move. Like me, the Victor, Cro••ns his Ease with Love.

FINIS.