The House is grown odious to m•… no•…; since my Lord accuses me o' Dishones•…y, Shame Page  42 and Infamy. He denies plain Matters o' Fact, and ex∣claims against me strangely; he affirms what never was, and blames me for what I'm innocent of; after all, thinks I'll tamely sit down and bear all. But as I'm a living Soul, he's mistaken; for I'll not suffer th' unjust Scandal of Whore: No, I'll part first, unless he makes me ample Satisfaction, and swears he repents of his un∣just Accusation.

That I must do in good earnest, if I ever hope for a kind Reception. For seeing my Tricks fall heavy upon Amphitryon's Head, and my Love proves injurious to this innocent Creature, I must expect some Anger and hard Words for what I'm inno∣cent of too.

Oh! here's the Person who accuses his poor Wife o' Shame, and Infamy.

Madam, I'd willingly talk wi' ye.—

'Tis my Nature to serve my Enemies so.

Bless me! your Enemies?

Yes truly, my Enemies; unless you'll pretend this is false too.

Now you're too nicely reserv'd.

Pray let m' alone.—I'm sure had y'either Wit or Discretion, or weren't the greatest Fool in Na∣ture, you'd ne're hold Discourse, either in Mirth or Earnest, with the Woman you believe, and declare a Strumpet.

If I did, you're ne're the worse, no not in my Opinion; therefore I return to beg your Pardon, my Dear: For no Torment has been so great to me, as th' Apprehensions o' your Displeasure.—Why didst name such a thing? I'll clear all t'ye. Upon Honour, I ne're mistrusted your Fidelity; I had only a mind to try your Temper, and how you cou'd bear what I said. Page  43 'Twas all but a little harmless Raillery for sport-sake; ask Socia else.

But why wasn't my Cozen Naucrates brought hither, as you pretended, to prove you ne're were here before?

What's spoken in Jest, my Dear, ought never to be taken in Earnest.

I'm sure there was enough to make my heart ake.

Dear Alcmena, by this fair Hand, let me beg, and intreat ye, to forgive, forget, and be pacify'd.

M' unspotted Honour's above all Scandal; and since you've own'd me free from all base Acts, I wou'd be as free from all base Suspicions.—Farewel, keep your own Things, and let me ha' mine. Pray send my Women after me, t'accompany me.

Sure y' ar' n't mad?

If you will not, I'll go alone; my Vertue shall be my Companion.

Pray stay; I propose this Oath to your Discre∣tion.—I do sincerely believe my Wife to be most Vertuous; which if I falsifie, may Iove's eternal Wrath fall upon Amphitryon's head.

Ah, his Mercy rather.

I hope 'twill prove so; for I'm sure I've truly sworn.—Now I hope you're satisfy'd.

I am.

I'm glad of't.—A Man in his life-time, meets with a thousand such Accidents as these, sometimes Pleasures, othertimes Troubles, by and by Fallings out, then Reconciliations again. But whenever these little Love. Quarrels happen, and those made up, the pleasing Passion's doubl'd.

Your ill Words might well ha' been spar'd, my Lord: but if you make me such Satisfaction, I ought to forget all.

Pray order all my Sacred Vessels to be got rea∣dy, to perform those Vows I made i'the Campaign, if ever I got safe home again.

I will.

Send out Socia there; I must send him for Blepharon, our Ships Pilot, t'invite him to Dinner.—But not a mouthful shall Socia get; and here'll be rare sport when I come to grapple with Amphitryon, and send him packing.

I wonder what he's talking of t' himself.—But the Door goes.—Here comes Socia.