Sure, Lovell, you have patience more then ever Stoick had; This damn'd Impertinence makes me resolv'd to fly my Country; I can never find one houres refreshment in a Year: If I go to the Theatre, where all People hope to please themselves;either I find an Insupportable Play; or If a good one, ill acted; or which is worse, so many troublesome Wits buzzing about my Eares, that I am driven from thence too.

Free! Yes to be drunk with March-Beer, and Wine, worse then ever was serv'd in at Pye-corner at the eating of Pigs; and hear no other Discourse, but of Horses, Dogs, and Hawkes.

That it does, to my sad experience; This morning, just as I was coming to look for you, Sir Positive At-all, that Fool; that will let no Man understand any thing in his Company, Ar∣rests me with his Impertinence; sayes, he, with a great deal of Gravity, perhaps I am the Man of the World that have found out two Plays, that betwixt you and I have a great deal of Wit in e'm; Those are, the Silent Woman, and the Scornful Lady— And if I understand any thing in the World, there's Wit enough, in both tho•e, to make one good Play, if I had the management of e'm: for you must know, this is a thing I have thought upon and consider'd.

I must be stung with a Tarrantula, before I cou'd laugh at it: but here my persecution did not end; For after I had got loose from the other two, whom shou'd I see as I came along, but that infinite Coxcomb Poet-Ninny: who by force of Arms hales me into his Lodging, and Reads me there a Confounded Scene in Heroick Verse: so that, what with Sir Positive's Orati∣ons, Woodcocks squeaking Fiddle, and Poet Ninny's Heroick Fu∣stian, I have a greater VVind-mill in my brain then a New-Po∣lititian with his head full of Reformation, but as Fate wou'd have it, in came a Dunn and out got I; and for fear of further Inter∣ruption, came back to my Lodging.

Dear Ninny, Ah dear Lovel: Ah my dear Iack-Stan∣ford, I am the happiest Man in thy Friendship of any

Well! if I do not leave the World within these three days; May I be eternally baited by Sir Positive, Ninny, and Wood∣cock, which is a Curse worse then the worst of my Enemies Wishes.

Are you so? but I hope I shall catch her from you for all that.

She sayes she's so troubled with Impertinent People, which between you and I Iack, are so numerous in this Town, that a Man cannot live in quiet for e'm, that she's resolv'd to leave the World to be quit of e'm.

Sir, methinks there's as pretty a Soul in't, as a Man shall see in a Summers Day.

Why do you torment your self thus, methinks nothing can be pleasanter.

Dear Mr. Stanford, I ha' just done, if you have any re∣spect in the World for me, stay and hear the end on't.

Ah Dear Iack! Have I found thee? I would not but have seen you for twenty pound: I have made this morning a glorious Corrant, an immortal Corrant, a Corrant with a Soul in't; I'le defy all Eur•pe to make such another: You may talk of your Baptists, your Locks, and your Banisters; let me see e'm Mend this: Why here's at least 25 Notes Compass, Fa la, la, &c. You shall hear.

Sir Positive, I must take my leave of you, I must not lose my Business for a little Musick.

But for Musick, if any Man in England gives you a better account to that then I do, I will give all mankind leave to spit upon me: You must know it's a thing I have thought up∣on and consider'd, and made it my business from my Cradle; be∣sides, I am so naturally a Musitian, that Gamut, A re, Bem•, were the first words I could learn to speak: Do you like Bap∣tist's way of Composing?

Upon my Word, Stanford, I will make all my Tunes like his—You shall hear his Vein in this Corra•• now.

Yes doubtless, Sir Positive has a great Soul of Musick in him; he has great power In Corranto's and Jiggs, and com∣poses all the Musick to my Playes he ha's great power.

It is a prodigious thing, thou shou'dst ever be in my Company, and understand Musick no better; thou hast found fault with the best part of the Corrant, ask Woodcock else?

Now, Lovel, What think you, this Torture's worse then any the Dutch invented at Amboyna.

Come, Mr. Woodcock, you shall go to the reading of my Play.

Come, I'le take pity on you, Stanford, and go before, and prepare some place or other, where we may enjoy our selves, and you be free. I'le take your Man along with me, and send him back agen in haste for you; by that means you may get loose.—

Flanders! If any Man gives you that account of Flanders that I do, I'le suffer Death; You must know I have thought of their Affairs, I have •onsider'd the thing throughly, never speak on't more, name it no more, let it not enter into your Thoughts; 'tis a lost Nation, absolutely undone, lost for ever, take that from me: and yet were I with Castel Rodrigo but one quarter of an hour, I'de put him in a way to save all yet.

Mankind! Dost thou know what thou say'st now? Do'st thou talk of Mankind? I am confident thou never so much as thought'st of Mankind in thy life: I'le tell thee, I will give Dogs leave to piss upon me, if any man understands Page  13 Mankind better then my self, now you talk of that. I have consi∣der'd all Mankind, I have thought upon nothing else but Mankind this Moneth; and I find you may be a Poet, a Musitian, a Painter, a Divine, a Mathematician, a S•ates-man; but betwixt you and I, let me tell you, we are all Mortal.

Well, they may talk of the Pox, want of Money, and a Scoulding Wife, but they are Heaven to my afflictions.

Sir Positive, my Lady Vaine desires you wou'd come And look upon her Picture that's come this Morning from Master Lilly's.

Why there 'tis now Stanford, that people shou'd have no more Judgement, she had as good have thrown her Money into the Dirt; 'tis true, I cou'd have made him have made a good picture on't, if I had drawn the Lines for him, but I was not thought worthy, and now you talk of Painting, either I am the greatest Fopp in Nature, or if I do not understand that, I under∣stand nothing in the World: why I will paint with Lilly, and draw in little with Cooper for 5000 l▪

O! intollerable Impertinence! I am affraid he will not go now his Mistress sends for him.

Come Mistress Bridget I'le go along with you.—Dear Stanford take it not unkindly, for I wou'd not leave thee but upon this occasion.

But you know a man must not disoblige his Mistress Iack?

I Long to bring 'em together, they will be well Match'd; but we must stay awhile, for she ha's been so teaz'd this morning, she ha's lock'd her self up in her Chamber.

Stanford was ready to fall out with me, when I nam'd a new acquaintance to him, and will not be perswaded there is such a Creature as a Woman:

Emilia is as Cautious as he can be, and wou'd be ready To swound at the sight of a new face, for she will not believe but all mank•nd are Coxcombs: for Heav'ns sake Lovell let's surprize them into one anothers Company, we shall have admirable sport.

Wee'l do't; but Madam, why shou'd we mind their bus'ness that have enough of our own: what if you and I shou'd play the fools once in our Lives, and enter into the bonds of Wedlock together.

Fy, fy, 'tis such a Constant condition of life, that a Wo∣man had as good be profest in a Nunnery, for she can no sooner get out of one then t'other.

But with your pardon, Madam, this is somewhat The pleasanter Condition of the Two.

She sayes you are the most inconstant man, the most per∣fidious Wretch that e're had breath, and bid me fly you as I wou'd infection.

I am like to have a fine servant of you: but a Lady wou'd have a fine time on't that were to marry you, to stake all the treasures of her Youth and Virginity, which have been preserv'd with so much Care, and Heav'n knows some trouble too against nothing.

Faith Madam, I have e'en as much as I had before, but if you'l be kind, I'le take that Care off your hands, and soon rid you of that trouble.

No, no, go to my Lady Vaine, give her your Heart poor Lady she wants it too but for me, I can keep my affliction to my self.

Dear Carolina! name her no more, if you do, I will get drunk immediately. And then I shall have Courage enough to fall aboard her.

Lord! what a loss shall I have: Heav'n send me patience, or I shall ne're out-live it, to loose so proper a Gentleman, but why should I think to rob her of her due, no, no, now I think on't to her again, go, go.

For Heav'ns sake Carolina do not Tyrannize thus, why I had rather be kept waking at an ill Play then endure her Com∣pany.

Thus are we poor Women despis'd when we give away our Hearts to ungrateful men, but Heav'n will punish you.

Dear Carolina, let's leave fooling, and be in down-right Earnest.

As much as the severest Anchorite can be at his Devo∣tions.

O! are you so, 'its a hard Case, but pray you, Sir, leave off, I had rather hear a silenc'd Parson preach sedition then you talk seriously of Love, wou'd you cou'd see how it becomes you; why you look more Comically then an old fashion'd fel∣low singing of Robin Hood or Chevy Chace.

My Love to you's as pure as the flame that burns upon a• Altar! how scurvily it sounds.

You are the Cruellest Tyrant alive: Let us be serious a little, I have rallied my self into a passion will ruine my else.

Come, in what posture must I stand to hear you talk formally.

On my Conscience 'tis easier to fix quick-silver than your humour, Madam, but if you wou'd enter into Wedlock I can assure you that will bring you to gravity.

Let me but once more hear you name Marriage, and I protest I'le send for my Lady Vaine to you. I tell you again I will not marry. I love your Conversation, and your humour of all things in the World.

But for Marriage 'tis good for nothing, but to make Friends fall out.

Nay, faith if you be at that I can do you the same Civility without the Ceremony, as you say it is a kind of formal Thing.

No! I shall take Example by my Lady Vaine, poor Lady, she little thought to be unkindly us'd, I warrant you.

Besides, if we were Marry'd you might say; faith Carolina is a pretty Woman, and has humour good enough, but a pox on't she's my wife; no, no, I'le have none of that.

Do you still distrust my Honour, 'tis unkindly done, but—

Hold, hold, her door opens, step you in there, and you may hear how she entertains the motion.

Yes, no doubt on't, as wisely done to go to a Mona∣stery to shun fools, as to keep Company with Us•rers and Brokers to avoid Knaves.

O' my Conscience thou art stark out of thy Wits with r•ading of Burton's Melancholly; To a Nunnery to avoyd Im∣pertinence? where canst thou think to meet with more then there?

O Rare! Stanford, here's just thy Counterpart (

Since thou art resolv'd to sequester thy self from Com∣pany, I'le buy thee a Cage and hang thee up by the Parrot over Page  18 the way, and thou shalt converse with none but him: I hope he's not Impertinent too?

That Vertuosa as she calls her self, is the pleasantest Creature I ever saw: but prethee Sister, let me hear none of your fantastick Stories, methinks you are as Impertinent as any body.

It distracts me to see this folly in things that are in∣tended for reasonable Creatures.

O Stanford! If this Lady does not match thee the de∣vils in't.

I tell you: Stanford hea•ing of your humour, and Ad∣miring it ha's a great desire to see you, before you resolve to leave the world, try how he will please you.

What a ridiculous thing it is of you to wish me to new Acquaintance, when I am leaving the old? I am sure He's Im∣pertinent, for all mankind I have met are •o

Madam! pray stay, and give me the honour of one word with you.

Your Ladiships humble servant▪ how I hate the sight of her in presence of my Mistress.

Lovell! for shame be civil to your Mistress: L••'s hear you make Love a little.

Madam upon my Reputation there was no such thing, Sir Positive was never there, sure some Dirty fellow or other brought a false Message on purpose to rob me of the plea∣sure of your Ladiships sweet Company: would he were hang'd for his pains, he passion he has put me in, has put me out of Breath.

But, Madam, assoon as ever I found he was not there I made all possible haste to wait upon you again, for fear your Ladiship shou'd resent my too abrubt departure.

But the truth on't is I design'd to spend this day with you, since I can be no where so well satisfi'd as with your Ladiships Converse, a person who is Mistress of so much ver∣tue and honour, which are Treasures I value above the World.

For the truth is so few Ladies have either, that they are things to be valu'd for their rarity.

Oh Impertinence! whither will this Eternal tongue of hers carry her.

This is very pleasant for her to name Vertue and Honour In my Company.

For the truth on't is, Madam, a Lady without Vertue and Honour is altogether as detestable as a Gentleman without Wit or Courage.

Where is't Madam, for I am resolv'd to go along with you.

That's all one for that, let me alone to make my Apology.

Madam, d'ye think, I that am a Virtuosa understand no better, then to leave you now you are not well; What's your Distemper? no Woman in England was more serviceable among her Neighbours then I with my Flos Unguentorum, Paracelsian and Green-salve.

Let's in and see when the Fury of this Dol Comon will be at an End.

No! but I'le tell you, upon my Reputation, I have been Nick't out of twenty pound Just now at Spiering's, and lost seven to four, for my last Stake.

But, Sir, I'le tell you a thing that very nearly concerns you.

Why, I have found out the finest plump fresh Gi•le, newly come out of the Country.

Hell and Damnation! Why do you trouble me with such trifles.

Why then I'le put you in a way to do a very Generous▪ And Honourable thing.

O! I am so out of breath, I am not able to speak one word; but if I had never so much breath, I cou'd tell you no∣thing but what you'd be glad to hear: If I had the winde of an Irish Foot-man, nay, of a Non-conforming Parson—or.

VVell, Sir, since you are in haste, I'le be brief as a Fid∣ler, after he's paid for scraping, for I love to be so in Cases of this Importance, for I have heard—

Not to boast of my diligence, which, though I say it, is as much—

You Dogg tell me quickly, or I'le cut your Eares off.

Why Mr. Lovel, wou'd have you come to him; What wou'd you have?

If I were not in haste, Sirrah; I'de teach you to know your Man, and who you may put your Tricks on, you impudent Raskal.

Death! That I shou'd find impertinence in others, and not see it in my self.

Dear Iack, thy humble Servant: How dost doe? My Footman told me, he saw thy Man come in here, which made me believe I shou'd find thee here; and I had not power to stay from thee, my Dear Bully-Rock, for I can enjoy my self no where so well as in thy Company: Let me kiss thee Dear Heart; 'Gad I had rather kiss thee then any Woman.

This is beyond all Example: Oh horrid! his kindness is a greater persecution then the Injuries of others.

I'le tell thee, Dear Heart, I love thee with all my heart: thou art a man of Sence, Dear Rogue, I am infinitely happy in thy Friendship; for I meet with so many impertinent silly Fellows every day, that a man cannot live in quite for e'm: Dear Heart. For between you and I, this Town is more pester'd with idle Fel∣lows, that thrust themselves into Company, then the Country is with Attorny's; Is it not Iack?

Yes! I have too much reason to believe you, a Curse on you.—

Ay, Did not I tell you so, Iack! ha? but this is not my business▪ Dear Rascal kiss me, I have a secret to impart to thee, but if it take the least Ayre, I am undone: I have a project in my head shall raise me 20000 l. I know you will promise se∣cresy, dear heart.

No, it concernes thee Man: why, thou shalt go halfes with me, Dear Heart.

For Heaven's sake, Sir, don't trust it with me, I have a f•culty of telling all I know: I cannot help it.

Oh! Dear Bully-Rock, that Wheadle won't pass. Page  24 Don't I know thou art a Man of Honour; and besides, so re∣serv'd, that thou wilt scarce tell a secret to thy Friend.

Sir, I am unhappy in your good opinion, this is beyond all suff'rance.

No, Faith, Dear Iack, thou deserv'st it; but my pro∣ject is this, d'yee see.

Well! I am so tormented with Impertinent Fellowes, that I see there is no remedy.

As I hope to Live, Iack, I am of thy Opinion: the 'truth on't is, 'tis intollerable, for a man can never be free from these Fooles in this Town; I like thy resolution so well, that I am a Son of a Whore if I don't go along with thee! Ah how we shall enjoy our selves when we are both together, how we shall despise the rest of the World: Dear Heart.

O, Mr. VVoodcock! Poet Ninny is gone to the Rose Ta∣verne, and bid me tell you, he has extraordinary business with you, and begs you wou'd make all possible hast to him.

O Dear Rascal, kiss me! thou art the honestest Fellow in the World: Dear Iack, I must beg thy pardon for a few mi∣nutes, but I hope thou'lt not take it ill; why 'tis about business Dear Heart, you know we must not neglect that.

Nay, Dear Rogue, be not angry, prethee kiss me; as I hope to live, I'le return immediately; Dear Iack, thy humble Servant—

Sir, I was fain to sin a little for you, and get rid of him by this lie.

Well! this shall excuse all your former Errors, 'Ile a∣way, for fear some other fooles shou'd find me out.

Admirably! Oh that Stanford were here! if't were for nothing but to see a fellow-sufferer.

Then Madam, will your Ladyship be pleas'd to let me wait on you to a Play, there are two admirable Playes at both Houses; and let me tell you, Madam, Sir Positive, that under∣stands those things as well as any man in England, sayes, I am a great Judge.

Madam, I beseech you ask me no more questions; I tell you, I had as live stand among the rabble, to see a Jack-pud∣ding eate a Custard, as trouble my self to see a Play.

O Fy Madam! a young Lady and hate Playes; why I'le tell you, Madam, at one House there is a huge Two handed Devil, and as brave a Fat Fryer as one wou'd wish to see in a Sum∣mers-Day; and a delicate Machin, as they call it, where one sits and sings as fine a Song: And then at t'other house there's a rare Play, with a Jigg in't, would do your heart good to see it; but if there were nothing else in't, you might have your four Shillings out in Thunder and Lightning; and let me tell you, 'tis as well worth it as one Penny's worth another.

What have I done?

Am I trapan'd into Womens Company?

Hold, hold, hold, Madam, here's Mr. Stanford desires to kiss your hands.

O Mr. Lovel! she's falling into a fit of an Epilepsy: help all to hold her, lend me a Knife to cut her Lace.

Sir, your most obedient servant: I shall be glad of any occasion to retire with one, for whom I have so great an affection.

I find you are an Errant Hippocrite, but I'le take you at your word for once.

I am the greatest object of pity that was ever seen: I am never free from these Importunate Fooles.

I am not less afflicted, and have as much need of pitty too.

I find no possibility of reliefe, but by leaving the World that is so full of folly.

Who would live in an age, when Fooles are Reverenc'd, and Impudence Esteem'd.

To see a Fellow but the other day content with humble Linsey Woolsey, now have variety of Ve•ts, Perriwiggs and Lac'd Linnen.

One, that but the other day, could eat but one meal a day, and that at a three-penny Ordinar•; now struts in State, and talks of nothing but Shattellins and Lefronds.

In so corrupt an Age, when all mankind flatter the greatest, and oppress the least; when to be just is to be out of fashion, and to betray a friend is lawful Cunning.

This is pleasant for her to speak against these

Now has this Fellow a design to have me think

Now the illiterate fool despises Learning

Nay, among the learn'd themselves, we find many that are great Schollers by Art, are most abominable Fooles by Na∣ture.

This shall not perswade me to believe she is not Imper∣tinent.

Now the qualifications of a fine Gentleman are to Eate A-la-mode, drink Champaigne, Dance Jiggs, and play at Ten∣nis.

To love Dogs, Horses, Hawkes, Dice and Wenches, scorne Wit, break Windows, beat a Constable, ly with his Semp∣stress, and undoe his Taylor, it distracts me to think on't.

Now does he desire to be taken for a discreet fellow, but this will not do.

What relief can I expect in this age▪ when men take as much paines to make themselves fooles, as others have done to get wisdome.

Nay folly is become as natural to all mankind as lust.

VVhat shall I do? Whither shall I turne me to avoid these Fooles.

Ay, pray Sir hear him, he's as pretty a Wit as any man in this Town, except Sir Positive I assure you.

I was with my Bookseller, Madam, with that Heroick Poem, which I presented to your Ladyship, as an earnest of the ho∣nour I have for you; But by the way, he's an ignorant ingrateful Fellow, for betwixt you and I he has got some hundreds of pounds by some Plays and Poems of mine which he has Printed. And let me tell you, some under the Names of Beaumont, and Fletcher, and Ben. Iohnson too: but what do you think, Madam I asked the Son of a Who•e for this Poem?

But I'le you; There are not above 10, or 12000 Lines Page  28 in all the Poem: and as I hope to be sav'd, I ask'd him but twelve pence a line one line with another.

And really, Sir, that's as reasonable as he can possi∣bly afford e'm, take that from me?

O Devil! this is worse then a Sheerness Ague: that will give a Man some respit between the Fits.

By my Soul, Madam, if he had been my Brother I wou'd not have abated him one penny; for you must know, there are many hundreds of Lines, that in their Intrinsick value, are worth ten shillings a Line between Father and Son; and the greatest part of e'm are worth five shillings a line: but before George ve∣ry few or none but are worth three shillings a line to the veriest Iew in Christendome; they have that salt, thought, imaginati∣on, power, spirit, soul, and flame in e'm—ha!

What does this concern me?

No, but I'le tell you, Stanford, prethee hear, as I hope for mercy this Impudent Rogue told me, he would not give me two shillings for the whole Poem; an ignorant Puppy, a fellow of all the World I design'd to make, for he might have sold these Books for three shillings apiece, and I would have help'd off with 10000 of e'm, to ten thousand of my particular intimate Friends; besides, every one that had but heard of my name, which are almost all the Kings Subjects, would have bought some; so that I should not have got above six or seven hun∣dred pound, and in a fortnights time have made this fellow an Al∣derman: That such ignorant Rascalls should be Judges of VVit or Sence.

VVell Sir, we shall never have good VVorld unless the State Reformes these abuses.

'Tis very true, Madam, for this is a thing is of Conse∣quence to the whole Nation, Stanford.

VVhat the Devil would you have? Am I the cause of this?

No! Heav'n forbid I should say so: but Madam, I had forgot another Advantage he had had by this.

Heav'n defend me! this puts me beyond all patience.

I'le tell you, Stanford, prethee mind me a little.

Oh now I am undone, ruin'd for ever, Sir Positive's here.

O intollerable!

O Heav'n, when shall we be deliver'd from these fools?

How do you like it Stanford, is it not well! what say you Cozin, ha?

Upon my honour this honest fellow plaid it with a great deal of glo•y, he is a most incomparable Bower, he has the most luscious, the most luxurious bow-hand of any man in Europe, take that from me, and let me tell you, if any man gives you a better account of the Intrigue of the Violin, then I do, I am a• Owl, a Puppy, a Coxcomb, a Logger-head, or what you will.

Sure there is Magick in this? never to be free?

Magick? why do you understand Magick?

No, no, no, not I Cozen▪ O intollerable!

I do; if you please talk of something else, leave that to me, why I will discover lost Spoons and Linnen, resolve all horary questions, nay raise a Devil with Doctor Faustus himself, if he were alive.

Whose that speaks of pimping there: well! though I say't no man pretends to less then I do; but I cannot pass this by without manifest Injury to my self.

This Puppy rather then not be in at all will declare himself a pimp.

But Sir, are you such a manner of man?

Why Madam? did you never hear of me for this?

No Sir! if I had—

If I had—ha, ha, ha—why Madam, where have you liv'd all this while.

O •y upon him, Madam, I shall lose my reputation if I be seen in his Company.

Well! the pimps in this Town are a Company of empty idle fellows, they have no design in 'em.

Sir, I am sorry you are such a kind of Man, but—

Sorry! well! if I would bend my self to't I would starve all these Pimps, they should not eat bread, but I am not thought fit.

Sure you railly all this while.

Railly! ha, ha, ha. Why there is not a Lady of Plea∣sure from Blackwall to Tuttle-Fields that I am not intimately ac∣quainted with, nay that I do not know the state of her Body from her first Entring into the Calling.

O Madam! I am undone, ruin'd for ever by being in his Company.

Besides for debauching of Women, Madam, I am the greatest son of a Whore in the World if any one comes near me.

Out upon you, if you be such a man I will have nothing to do with you, see me no more, I must look to my Ho∣nour, my Reputation is dearer to me then all the VVorld. I would not have a blemish in my Honour for all the riches of the Earth, this makes me so covetous of your Ladiships Company, a person of so much Vertue and Honour, but for Sir Positive I de∣fye him; forbear my presence, you will undoe my Honour for ever.

Oh what have I done?

O horrid Impertinence!

Nay, nay, Dear Cozen stay, and see us friends first, Madam, I beg a thousand pardons: 'Tis true, I said no man in England understood pimping better then my self, but I meant the speculative not the practical part of pimping.

O that's something, I assure you, if you had not brought your self off well with your Speculation, I would never have suffer'd you to have Practis'd upon me, for no VVoman in England values her Honour more then I do.

Oh Madam, we must go to the Setting Dog and Partridge to supper to night, Master Whiskin came to invite us, there will be the Blades, and we shall have a Ball.

VVill there be none but our own Company?

No Madam.

VVell! I am resolv'd not to fail if I can by any means get rid of Sir Positive, for I love meat and drink and fidles, and such merry Gentlemen with all my heart.

Your servant Dear Hearts; Madam, Emilia I kiss your hand: Dear Iack.

Nay, now it is time to shift for our selves.

My Dear Bully-Rock can I serve thee in any thing?

Nay, then fare you well.—

NAy then Cozen, I am an Ass, an Ideot, a Blockhead and a Rascal, if I don't under∣stand Drammatique Poetry of all things in the World; why this is the onely thing I am esteem'd for in England.

I can hold no longer.

Ha, ha, ha: Coz, thou railliest well; 'Tis true, Woodcock and Ninny will be a little troublesome sometimes; but 'ifaith they are very Honest fellows 'Give e'm their due.

Oh abominable! Worse and worse.

What a Devil ayles he? he's mad; who does he mean by this?

Nay faith I don't know, I am sure he does not mean me, Dear Heart.

Nor me neither; Take that from me.

Iack if thou wilt leave the World, I'le go along with thee as I told thee, Dear Heart; but who is't troubles thee now Bully-Rock?

All of ye; ye are a pack of the most insupportable fools That e're had breath, I had rather be at a Bear-Garden Then be in your Company.

Ha, ha, ha: This is very pleasant ifaith: Call the greatest VVits and Authors of the Nation fools, Ha, ha, ha. That's good ifaith.

Nay, perhaps the greatest men of the Age: you are a great Judge indeed, &c.

Nay Sir Positive e'en leave her (don't be trouble∣some) since she desires you: Come Madam, I'le wait upon you, whither you please: wee'l enjoy our selves in private.

This is worst of all; Do you think I can suffer the Noyse of your Tongue forever with patience?

O'my Conscience Sir Positive she's distracted.

Yes Madam, if I be a judge she is, and I defie any one to deceive me in this.

It must be so, for she has a vast deal of wit, and great wits you know have always a Mixture of Madness.

Well Madam! I found that by my self, for I was about three years ago as mad as ever man was; I 'scap'd Bedlam very narrowly, 'tis not above a twelve-moneth since my brains were settl'd again: But come, Madam, I'le wait on your Ladiship, for she do's not deserve the honour of such Company.

What shall I do? to get rid of him, I shall miss my assignation, if I do not.

So, so, now we shall be a little at rest: for let me tell you Madam, though Sir Positive be a rare man, yet my Lady Vaine is a little too talkative, and there can be no greater Trouble to one of sence then that.

You are the most impertinent of all Mankind.

Oh Madam! you are pleas'd to say so—

You are a most abominable fool, and the worst Poet in Christendom: I had rather read the History of Tom Thumb then the best of your Poems.

Oh Madam! you are pleasant, but this won't pass,

Such ridiculous insipid Rhimes are you Author of, That I am confident you are that incorrigible scribbler that fur∣nishes the Bell-man of this Ward.

Ha, ha, ha, &c. Madam: as I hope to breath you droll very well, this is the pretty'st humour in the World.

O Heav'n! what will become of me?

Is not this extremely pleasant?

There was never any thing equal to't.

Your Verses are such as School-boyes ought to be whipp'd for.

This will not stir me; Madam, I know you are not in Earnest.

And your Playes are below the Dignity of a Mounte∣banks stage. Salvator Winter wou'd have refus'd them.

Nay, Madam, never talk of that, I'le shew you a Play I have about me: Come, Madam, wee'l read it, here's the most glorious conceits, the most powerful touches, in a word, 'tis a Play that shall Read and Act with any Play that ever was born, I mean, conce•ved.

Come on Iack!

Ah! Dear Lovell! use some means for my delivery, or I am ruin'd for ever: for if I shou'd go they wou'd not leave me, they are so barbarously cruel in their persecutions.

Nay, never speak of that Madam, before George you will bring your Judgement in question if you condemn Ninny's Playes Dear Heart.

Away you Coxcomb, you are ten times a more Ridicu∣lous' Squire then he's a Poet.

Ha, ha, ha. By the Lord Harry this is a strange humour of hers as ever I saw in my life: Well Madam you will have your frolick, but come Ninny, wee'l e'en take our leaves.

Ay, ay, come, your humble servants.

Your servant, Dear Hearts, this is the pleasant'st humor in the World.

Ay, is't not? ha, ha, ha—

O Friend, I have been more inhumanely us'd then ever Bawd was by the fury of the 'Prent•ces.

Still I say laugh at 'em as I do.

Let's leave 'em Lovell, for they are in such humours, they are onely fit for one anothers Company.

With all my heart, Madam—

Well! I will leave the World immediately.

Which way do you intend to go?

Why do you ask?

That I may be sure to take another way.

Nothing could so soon perswade me to tell you as that.

What are they gone? they have lock'd the door too!

I wonder what they leave us alone for.

Heav'n knows, unless it be to be troublesome to one an∣other as they have been to us.

I am sure I have most reason to fear it.

You most reason? when did you see a man so foolish as a Woman?

When I see you.

No, no, none of our sex will dispute folly with yours.

That's hard, I find nothing but Owls among the best of you; your young men are all positive, forward, conceited Cox∣combs, and your old men all formall nothings, that wou'd have their sullen gravi•y mistaken for wisdom.

This is not altogether so much Impertinence as I ex∣pected from one of your sex, but let me tell you, I have too often suffer'd by Women, not to fear the best of 'em, there being no∣thing to be found in most of the sex, but vanity, pride, envy and hypocrisie, uncertainty and giddiness of humour, the furious de∣sires of the young make 'em fit to be seduc'd by the flesh, as the envy and malice of the old prepare 'em to be led away by the Devil.

I must confess I don't perceive yet that you are altoge∣ther so ridiculous as the rest of Mankind, but let me tell you, I have Reason to fear you will be so, perhaps your impertinence is an Ag•e that ha•nts you by fits.

That disease in the best of Women is quotidi•n, and if you be not infected, you must be the most Extraordinary Woman in the World.

I would give Money to see a man that is not so as the Rabble do, to see a Monster since all men I have ever seen are Page  36 most intolerable Fops, would it not distract one to see Gentlemen of 5000 l. a year write Playes, and as Poets venture their Repu∣tations against a sum of Money, they venture theirs against No∣thing, others learn Ten years to play o' the Fiddle and to Paint, and at last an Ordinary Fiddler or Sign-Painter that makes it his bus'ness shall out-do 'em all.

This looks like sence, I find she does understand some∣thing.

Others after twenty or thirty years study in Philosophy arrive no further then at the Weighing of Carps, the Invention of a travailling Wheel, or the poisoning a Cat with the oyle of Tobacco, these are your Wits and Vertuoso's.

I must confess this is not so ill as I expected from you; but it do's not less distract me to see a young Lady fall in Love with a vain empty fellow not worth a Groat, perhaps for dancing of a Jigge, or singing of a Stanza of fashionable Non-sence, another on the contrary so insatiably covetous, for money, to marry old age, infirmity, and diseases, and the same bait that per∣swades 'em to Matrimony shall entice 'em into Adultery.

This is not so foppish as I believ'd, yet though this be a great Truth, 'tis a very impertinent thing of you to tell me what I know already.

How the D•vil should I know that, I am sure not many of your sex are guilty of so much discretion as to discern these things.

I am sure you have not much that cannot distinguish between those that have and have not.

I must confess I am a little surpriz'd to find a Woman have so little vanity, I could never indure the Society of any of the sex better then yours.

To be plain with you, you are not so troublesome ••op as I have seen.

What the Devil makes me think this Woman not im∣pertinent? and yet I cannot help it, what an Owl am I?

I have been so cruelly tormented, and without inter∣mission too, that this seems some Refreshment to me.

Why should I be catch'd thus, but I'le keep my folly to my self▪—

Pray Heaven you don't give me the first occasion

How like a Woodcock am I ins•ar'd; a

VVhat do they intend to keep us prisoners forever.

I care not how long;

That would be longer then the Seige of Tr•y〈◊〉.

This is not half so bad though as our late persecutions, That's one Comfort.

It fares with me like one upon a R•ck, that is a little loossen'd from his paines; 'tis pleasure to him when he compares his torments, though those he has left may be intollerable too.

In this we agree, though in nothing else.

I wou'd to Heaven we did in all things; I am

How now! she smil'd, and suddenly check'd the Li∣berty she took.

O Heaven! I fear he has discover'd something.

There must be something in't, I like her very well, but am resolv'd not to disclose it what e're comes on't; for, that will make her vain, though she be not already.

Why don't you break open the door, Sir,

I don't find much reason for't yet.

I could find in my heart to give you enough.

Nay, I doubt not but 'tis in your Nature. What can the meaning of this be? Is there nothing but Riddle in Wo∣man?

Hold, hold, Mr. Huffe: my Master charg'd me of all men living to keep you out of his sight.

Prethee stand by you sawcy Coxcomb.

Nay, Sir, be not so boisterous; upon my word you pass no further.

Prethee (dear Roger) do'nt put this upon me.

My Master sayes it costs him two pieces a time to be rid of you.

Prethee let me go, and you shall go my halfes.

Are you in earnest?

Yes upon my Honour.

Nay then speed yee, but be sure you sinke no∣thing.

I warrant you.

Is he here! hold, hold, hold, here's your two peices, don't trouble me now.

Your humble Servant, I'le returne e'm again to mor∣row without faile: Ha! Do they come so easily; there are more from whence these came: O Sir, I'le tell you, I have had the severest fortune that ever man had.

Away, away.

For Heaven's sake hear, it's the most prodigious thing you ever heard.

What will this World come to?

I was playing at Back-Gammon for my Dinner, which I won; and from thence we came to five up for half a piece; of the first set I had three for love and lost it▪ of the second I Gam∣mon'd him, and threw Doublets at last, which you know made fou•, and lost that too; of the third I won never a Game.

O Devil! Is this the Miraculous thing you would tell me, Fare-well.

Hold, hold, Sir! you don't hear the end on't.

Nor do I desire it, Sir.

I'le tell you, Sir, of the fourth set I was four to two, and for the last game my Tables were fill'd up, and I had born my thr•e odd men, so that you know I had two upon every point.

O insufferable! though I feel enough my self, yet I cannot but pitty Stanford.

O Damn'd Impertinence! Sir, I tell you, I don't under∣stand Back-Gamon.

Not understand Back-Gamon: Sir, that you may un∣derstand well what I say, I'le tell you what Back-Gamon is.

This is worse then t'other: sure Stanford has some Charme about him, that I can suffer this rather then leave him.

I desire none of your Instructions.

Well: then as I was a saying, I had just two upon every point, and he had two Men to enter; and as the Devil wou'd have it, my next throw was Size-Ace; he enter'd one of his Men a Size; then Mr. Stanford, to see the Damn'd luck on't, I threw Size-Sinke next, and the very next throw he en∣ter'd upon a Sink, and having his Game very backward, won the Game, and afterwards he Set so, that I lost every penny.

This will distract me; VVhat the Devill's this to me?

No: but did you ever hear the like in your life?

This puts me beyond all patience.

But this was not all; for just in the Nick came she that Nurs'd my three last Children that were born without Wed∣lock, and threaten'd to turn e'm upon my hands if I did not pay her.—'Faith Mr. Stanford three Pieces more will do my business; upon my Honour I'le pay you to morrow: Come will you Communicate?

Yes that, that's fitter for you—

VVhat is that Dear Heart?

'Tis that Sir▪—

That Sir, I don't understand you; if you go to that Sir: There's a business indeed. VVhat do you mean by this? VVhat would you make a quarrel, Sir? You'l never leave th•se tricks: I have told you of e'm often enough. What the Devil do you mean by that?

Let this expound my meaning.—

'Slife, Sir, I don't understand you: and ye talk of these things, and these businesses, Sir, I'de have you know, I scorn to Page  40 be kick'd as much as any man breathing, Sir; and you be that Sport, your Servant, your Servant, Sir.

Come Mr. Huffe, Divide.

Divide! There's one for you, for two of e'm was all I got.

This you might have kept to your self if you had pleas'd, but, D'ye think I'le be serv'd thus?

Let me go.

I'le not leave you so.—

Why do'nt you go? the Doores open now, Sir.

I am affraid I shall light into worse Company.

O Sir, that's impossible!

How vain this is of you; now would you give me a fair occasion to flatter you, but I can assure you, you shall miss of your design.

Well, this is an extraordinary man; I love the

What an Owle am I to like this Woman! sure I am bewitch'd.

You'd e'n as good stay, Madam, while you are well: you may perhaps if you go, incounter some of your Persecu∣tors.

I'de rather stay here then venture that; my trouble is not here so insupportable.

She must be a rare Woman!

This is a most excellent person.

Dear Emilia.

Iack; Hark ye.

For Heaven's sake! I have business.

'Tis all one for that, Sir; Why I'le tell you.

Another time; I beseech you don't interrupt me now.

'Faith but I must interrupt you.

What can be the matter he listens to him.

'Slife, Why should you put this upon me now.

If you refuse me, I'le blast your Reputation.

What shall I do? though this be a Coxcombly-Knight, yet the Puppies stout; are you so cunning in

What can this mean?

Come, Sir, I'le follow you, but a Curse upon you for finding me out: Madam, assoon as I have dispatch'd this busi∣ness, 'tis possible I may see you agen.

But 'tis not, I'le assure you; I'le never see the Face of one, that has so little sence to be seduc'd by such an Ideot as that is.

How ridiculous is this of you, to Judge of a thing be∣fore you know the Bottom on't.

Come, Stanford, 'prethee come away

Have I found you? this Fellows as bad as any, and without doubt did but Counterfeit his humour, to insinuate him∣self into my good opinion. What lucky Accident is this has undeceiv'd me? I felt a passion growing in me might else have prov'd dangerous—Luce—

Madam.

Fetch my Hoods and Scarfes, I'le take a walk in the Fields.

How Sister! What have you lost your Gallant:

O Sister, I thank you for locking me up with that Fel∣low; well, the time may come when I may be quit with you.

I wonder how the Door came open; I believe there Page  42 has been hard bickering betwixt e'm: but, I find my Sister is Conqueror, and your Friend is fled for the same.

Fare well he, let us mind our selves. Come, 'Faith Madam, Why should you and I hover so long about this Ma∣trimony; Like a Cast of Faulcons about a Hern that dare not stoop.

O Sir, the Quarry does not Countervaile the Dan∣ger.

I'le warrant you, Madam; but let's railly no longer, there is a Parson at Knights-bridge that yoakes all stray People together, we'll to him, he'l dispatch us presently, and send us away as lovingly as any two Fooles that ever yet were con∣demn'd to Marriage.

I should be inclinable enough to cast my self upon you; but I am affraid you are gone so far with my Lady Vaine, you can never come off with Honour: Besides, I am sure, what e're you say, you cannot so soon forget your kindness to her; and if af∣ter we are yoak'd, as you call it, you should draw that way, I should draw another; and then our Yoak would go neer to Throttle us.

Faith some would think it much the easier if 'twere wide enough to draw both wayes: But Madam, Will you never be serious with me?

I know you cannot love me, she's your delight.

Yes, yes, I delight in her as I do in the Tooch-Ache; I love her immoderately, as an English Taylor loves a French Taylor that's set up the next door to him.

Sir, to keep you no longer in suspence, I am resolv'd never to Marry without my Fathers Consent.

Madam, I'le not despair of obtaining that.

He has Vow'd never to Marry me till he has dispos'd of my Elder Sister.

Will you assure me to make me happy when that's done?

I think I may safely promise any thing against that time; for, as long as my Sister has these Mellanchollick-Hu∣mors, she's far enough from that danger.

I'le warrant you I'le make a Match yet between Stan∣ford and her.

That's impossible, unless you can alter their Natures▪ for though neither finds Impertinence in themselves, they I find it in one another: besides, their very Principles are against all Society.

Well, Madam, I have a way to make e'm stark mad in love with one another; or at least fetch e'm out of their Sullen∣ness: We will perpetually bait e'm with our Fooles, and by that we shall either plague e'm out of their humour, or at least make their fellow-sufferings be a meanes to endeare e'm one to ano∣ther.

Now will I firke my two Clerks.

But, Sir, before we engage, I would satisfie my Con∣science whether the Cause be just or no?

Hang the Cause, we come to fight.

Why, I'le tell you the Cause, Sir.

By no meanes, Sir Positive, we come to fight here, not to tell stories.

Wee'l fight too; but by your leave I'le tell the Cause first, and you were my Father.

Hold, Sir, think upon your Honour, this is no place for Words; Let your Sword speak your Mind.

Sir, by your Pardon, I am resolv'd to satisfie e'm; no man in England knows how to manage these things better then my self, take that from me.

O horrid Impertinence, I fear these Fooles Tongues more then I can their Swords.

Sir, no man in E•gland would put up this aff•ont; Why look you, Sir, for him to sit in the Eighteen Pence Gallery, pray mark me, and rail at my Play alowd the first day, and did all that lay in his power to damn it: And let me tell you, Sir, if in any Drammatick Poem there has been such breaks, such Characters, such Figures, such Images, such Heroick Patterns, such Heights, Page  44 such Flights, such Intrigues, such Surprizes, such Fire, Salt, and Flame, then I am no Judge: I understand nothing in this World.

What a Cause his Valour has found out; and how he Cants too; What an Owle was I to come along with him; Sir Positive dispatch. Come, come, Gentlemen.

Hold a little—

VVhy look you Mr. Timothy, this is a very honest and in enious Gentleman for ought I see.

'Tis true, I sate in the Eighteen Pence Gallery, but I was so far from Railling against your Play, that I cry'd it up as high as I could.

How high did you cry it up?

Why as high as the upper Gallery, I am sure of that.

O Cowardly Currs! Will they never fight: Y'e ly, y'e did Rail at his Play.

Sir, I'le hold you twenty pound I don't lie; Sir, Were you there? Did you hear me? This is the strangest thing in the Wo•ld.

Will nothing make these Rogues fight? You are both Rascally Cowards.

'Tis strange you should say so, you are very uncha∣ritable; Do you know either of us?

Oh insufferable! What Sons of VVhores has he pick'd up, and what an occasion too?

VVhy do you say, you did not Raile; Did not I sit just under you in the Pit?

Lord! VVho would expect to see a Poet in the Pitt at his own Play?

Did not you say, Fy upon't, that shall not pass!

Gentlemen! either Fight quickly.—

Hold hold, let him speak; VVhat can you say? Do Gentlemen VVrite to oblige the VVorld, and do such as you traduce e'm—ha—

Sir, I'le tell you, you had made a Lady in your Play so unkind to her Lover (who methought was a very honest well-meaning-Gentleman) to command him to hang himself; Page  45 Said I then that shall not pass, thinking indeed the Gentleman would not have done it, but he indeed did it, then said I fy up∣on't that he should be so much over-taken.

Overtaken! that's good 'ifaith, why you had as good call the Gentleman fool: and 'tis the best Character in all my Play. De'think I'le put that up.

Not I Sir as I hope to live; I would not call the Gentleman Fool for all the World, but 'tis strange a man must pay eighteen pence, and must not speak a word for't.

Not when Gentlemen write; take that from me.

No, I would they would let it alone then.

But Stanford it would make an Authour mad to see the Invincible Ignorance of this age, now for him to hang him∣self at the Command of his Mistress there's the surprize, and I'le be content to hang my self, if ever that was shewn upon a stage before, besides 'twas an Heroick Cato-like Action, and there's great Love and Honour to be shewn in a mans hanging himself for his Mistress, take that from me.

O horrid! this Magisterial Coxcomb will defend any thing.

What do you think Stanford, you are a great Judge?

I think a Halter is not so honourable as a Ponyard, and therefore not so fit to express Love and Honour with.

Ha, h•, ha To see your mistake now that's the onely thing in the Play I took pains for, I could have made it otherwise with ease, but I will give you seventeen reasons why a Halter's better then a Ponyard. First, I'le show you the posture of hang∣ing, look, d'ye mind me, it is the posture of a Pensive dejected Lover with his hands before him, and his head aside thus.

I would you had a Halter you would demonstrate it more cleerly.

'Faith, and w••ld I had, I'de show it you to the life—but secondly—

Hold Sir—I am convinced, to our fighting bus'ness agen; but they have given you full satisfaction,

Let's away—

No, no, hold a little.

A Curse on him! did I leave Emilia for this?

Sir, if you'l see your hand to this Certificate 〈◊〉 satisfy'd, otherwise you must take what follows.

Sir! with all my heart, I'le do any thing to serve you.

I had this ready on purpose, for I was resolv'd if we had fought, and I had disarm'd him, I'de have made him do't before I'de have given him his l•fe, how do you write your self?

Timothy Scribble a Justice of Peace his Clerk.

Here read it, and set your hand to it.

Hold, hold! I'le have Shakespeares in, 'slife I had like to have forgot that.

I do likewise hereby at•est that he is no Purloiner of other mens Works, the general fame and opinion notwithstanding, and that he is a Poet, Mathematician, Divine, Statesman, Lawyer, Physitian, Geographer, Musitian, and indeed a Unus in Omnibus through all Arts and Sciences, and hereunto I have set my hand the day of

With all my heart.

Come Sir, do you Witness it.

Ay Sir.

In presence of Iacob Dash.

Look you Sir I write an indifferent good hand, if you have any occasion to command me, inquire at the Stationers at F•rnivals Inne.—

Why you Impudent Rascals! how dare you; offers to come into the Field? must I be diver••• thus long by kick 'em. you?

Hold Sta•ford! I cannot in honour suffer that now they are my Friends, and after this satisfaction I am bound in ho∣nour to defend 'em to the last drop of blood.

O intolerable!

Sir! I pray be not angry! we did not come into the Page  47〈◊〉 to fight, but Ma••er Dash and I came to play a match at Trap-ball for a Dish of Steakes at Gloster-hall, and here you found us.

Have you the Confidence to talk of Trap-ball be∣fore me, nay, now you are my Enemies agen: hark you Stan∣ford I'le play with 'em both for 5 cool. why I was so eminent at it when I was a School-boy, that I was call'd Trap Positive all over the School.

Then farewel good Sir Positive Trap.

Dear Stanford stay but one quarter of an hour, and you shall see how I'le dishonour 'em both at Trap-ball—They talk of Trap-ball, ha, ha, ha.

Slife what will become of me: out of the field you in∣considerable Rascals. Must I be diverted thus by you—

I thought we might have been free here: and here are these Puppy's.

Let's aboard of 'em, who e're they are, fa, la, la, how now Dear Hearts? by the L. Harry its pity you should walk with∣out a Couple of Servants, here's a Couple of Bully-Rocks will serve your turn, as well as Two of Buckram, Dear Hearts.

O Heaven!—

Gentlemen this is very rude! we shall have them come shall thank you for't.

As I hope to breath Ladies you look the pretty'st in Vizard Masks of any Ladies in England.

And now you talk of Masks, I'le show you an admirable Song upon a Vizard Mask, Dear Hearts, of Poet Ninny's making.

Oh abominable Impudence!

But I must beg your pardon that I cannot sing it, for I am hoarse already with singing it to the Maids of Ho∣nour.

You sing it to the Maids of Honour?

But if I had a Violin here, no man in England can ex∣press any thing more lusciously upon that then my self, ask Nin∣ny else.

Yes Ladies! he has great power upon the Violin, he has the best double Rellish in Gam-ut of any man in England, but for the little finger on the left hand no man in Europe out∣does him.

You may believe him, Dear Hearts, for he's a great Judge of Musick, and as pretty a Poet as ever writ Couplet.

O horrid! what's this? there's no way to scape, but to discover our selves.

Emilia! what shall I do? I am undone, shee'l never own me agen.

Farewel you Baboons, and learn better manners.

'Slife shee'l take me for a Whore-master, I am nipt in the very blossome of my hopes.

For Heav'ns sake, pardon me Madam.

Let me go.

No Madam, wee'l wait on your Ladiship home.

This is worse and worse.

Heart! if I put up this, I'le give him leave to use me worse then a Bayley that arrests in the Inns of Court.

Why! what's the matter?

'Slife kick a man of honour as I am, I'le pistoll him pissing against a Wall.

Ay then or never to my knowledge.

What's the bus'ness Dear Heart, hah?

Sir, I'le tell you.

This is a lucky Occasion.

Are you gone, I'le follow you.

I had occasion for four or five Pieces to make up a Sum with, •nd went to borrow it of him, and he like an uncivil fellow as he was—

What did he?

Why I did but turn my back, and he like an ill-bred sot, gives me a kick or two of the breech, I'le cut his throat if I should meet him in a Church.

This will be an ill bus'ness; I am sorry for my Friend Iack Stanford.— for Master Huffes honour

If he be above ground I'le cutt's throat for't, I'le teach him to use a man of honour thus, if he had pleas'd he might have dealt with me at another rate, as I hope to live I had a fight∣ing Sword by my side neer six foot long at that very time, and he to kick a man, P'shaw He does not understand his bus'ness, but I shall find him presently.

Pox on't Woo•cock she would not let me go with her.

Prethee, Dear Heart, see if thou canst find I•ck Stanford in the Fields, while I go and •eel if I can find him in the Town.

What's the matter?

'Tis a business concerns his life, Dear He••t, ask no questions, but if you find him, bring him to the Sun.

What can this be?

COme Madam, I am not so blind, but I have discover'd something.

What have you discover'd Madam?

Let me tell you, Madam, 'tis not for your honour to give meetings privately to Ma∣ster Lovell.

Why Madam, if I shou'd, are you concern'd in it?

Yes, Madam, first in my good Wishes to your Ladi∣ship, I would not have the World blame your Conduct, not that you shou'd have the least blemish in your honour, but that your Fame and Vertue shou'd continue unspotted and undefil'd as your Ladiships Beauty is.

Fear not, Madam, I'le warrant you I'le secure my honour without your Instructions.

But, Madam, let me tell you agen, no Woman has really that right in Master Lovell that I have: but he's false Wretch Madam, he has no Religion in him, if he had any Con∣science, or had used to have heard Sermons, he would never have been so wicked and per•idious to a poor Innocent Woman as I am.

This is very fine i'faith—

Madam, he protested all the honourable kindness in the World to me, and has receiv'd Favours from me, I shall not mention at this time, and now he has rais'd the siege from before me, and laid it to your Ladiship.

I cannot imagine what you mean by this?

And Madam to confess my Weakness to you, I must needs say, I love him of all men in the World.

Well, Madam, since you do, I'le resigne my Interest in the Gentleman you speak of, here he is.

Oh Heaven! am I betray'd? well, Madam, I shall ac∣quaint your father with your Amour.

Hold, Madam, if you do perhaps I may whisper some∣thing in Sir Positive's ear.

Sir! you will not be so ungenerous to boast of a La∣dies kindness: if he shou'd say the least thing in the World after my unhansome leaving of him just now, it wou'd incense him past reconciliation, what a confusion am I in?

Is not this very pleasant Madam?

I wonder, Sir, after what has now past you have the confidence to look me in the face.

I like this raillery very well, Madam.

I can assure you, you shall have no reason to think I railly with you.

Certainly you cannot be in Earnest.

Upon my word you shall find I am, I will have nothing to do with any man that's engag'd already.

You amaze me, Madam.

'Ile never see you more—

O friend! I'm glad I've found you.

I shall have no opportunity to appease my Mistress▪ if I do not get rid of him, but I have a trick for him.

Wou'd this woman were away, that I might acquaint you with the greatest concernment I ever had.

Step into that Chamber quickly, and I'le get rid of her, and come to you.—

With all my heart—

Certainly, Madam, you cannot know this Woman so little as to give her Credit? I'le tell you what she is.

I am very glad I know you so well: do you think I'le be put off with a Remnant of your Love?

O! Master Lovell! is my Master here? I have lost him these two houres.

Ay, ay, but Madam, for Heav'ns sake hear me!

Trouble me no more.

Where is this Master of mine: I have been seeking him these two hours, and cannot light of him.

Oh Roger! where's your Master?

O Sir! you shall excuse me for that.

Prethee dear Rogue tell me, 'twill be better for thee.

No, no, that won't do, you were not so just to me last time.

Upon my honour I was: Why shou'dst thou distrust thy friend?

Come Sir, don't think to Wheadle me at this rate!

I am a son of a Whore if I was not just to you: but prethee bring me to him once more: I am sure to get money of him, and may I perish if I do not give you your share to a far∣thing.

Well! I'le trust you once more: go, and stay for me in the Hall, and I'le come to you when I have found my Master, who is somewhere in this house.

Well! I'le wait for you—

My comfort is, if he gets money I may have my share, if not he ventures a kicking agen, and I venture nothing.

Oh Sir! I have been seeking you these two houres, and here's Master Lovell in the house.

You Rascal, must you trouble me too?—

He does not trouble you more then you do me.

Now are you like a young hound that runs away with a •alse scent.

For Heaven's sake leave me.

Nay! This is like a Woman, to condemn a man un∣heard.

Must I be for ever pester'd with Impertinent peo∣ple?

If you were not so your self, you wou'd not think me so; but she that has the Yellow Jaundies thinks every thing yellow which she sees.

Is it possible you can have the impudence to endeavour to justifie your folly.

Not that I care much for satisfying you, but to vindi∣cate myself from the unjust aspersion: know it was my honour oblig'd 'me to go along with that Foole.

Out of my sight; Are you one of those Fopps that talk of honour?

Is that a thing so despicable with you? he ask'd me to be his second, which I cou'd not in honour refuse.

Granting that barbarous custome of Duells; Can any thing be so ridiculous, as to venture your life for another mans quarrel, right or wrong?

I like this Woman more and more, like a sott as I am▪ sure there is VVitch-craft in't.—

But to do the greatest Act of Friendship in the World for the greatest Owle in Nature.

Oh Mr▪ Stanford, I have a business to impart to you.

O insufferable! Have you the Impudence to trouble me agen.

I know not what's the matter, but I cannot but have some inclination to this fellow yet.

I am going into the City, where I shall have the rarest Bubble that ever man had; he was set me by a Renegado-Lin∣nen-Draper, that fail'd last year in his Credit, and has now no other trade but to start the Game, whil'st we pursue the Chace. This is one of these fellowes that draw in the Youth of the City Page  54 into our Decoy, and perpetually walk up and down seeking for Prey.

Be gone! and leave me.

But you know a man must have a little Gold to show, to baite the Rogues withall.

Out, you unseasonable Rascal, Ile send you hence.

Nay, 'tis not that Sir can fright me, but that I would not disturb the Lady, I'de make you know.

You impudent Villain, I'le send you fur∣ther.

Nay, Sir, your humble Servant and you go to that, Sir; I care as little for a Sword, Sir, as any man upon Earth: I fear your Sword? Who dares say it? your Servant, your Servant.—

This is not altogether so foolish as fighting in Sir Posi∣tive's Quarrel.

Sir Positives quarrel! 'twas in effect my own; for I was sure to meet with some impertinent Fellow or other for my Enemy, and was glad of this opportunity to vent my indignati∣on upon one of those many that have tormented me; I had rather fight with them all, then converse with them.

But you may chuse whether you will do either.

Yes, as much as chuse whether I'le breathe or no.

But how could you be sure to meet with such an one.

VVhat Question is that? Is it not above 5000 to one odds?

Now Madam, who is impertinent, you or I?

You are to say the same thing twice to me.

VVell! this is a rare VVoman: what a quick appre∣hension she has. I love her strangely, the more Coxcombe I, that I shou'd be drawn in of all men living.

O Dear heart, have I met with thee; I have been seeking thee all the Town over.

Heart, What's this? I was going in great haste just as you came, adieu.

Ah dear Jack, I have not so little honour as to leave thee in this condition.

Good Sir! What condition? I am not Drunk, am I?

No, Ga'd, wou'd it were no worse, Dear heart.

It cannot be worse, do not trouble me.

No, I'le tell thee Iack; Huffe threatens

For Heaven's sake put not this upon me; Do you think he that wou'd be kick'd without resistance, dares do any thing?

But look you, Dear Heart, Lord this is the strangest thing in the World, you had Ladies with you, and you know it had been an uncivil thing to have turn'd agen then Iack: but now he's resolv'd to have satisfaction, he told me so; And if I can see as farr into a Millstone as another, he's no Bully San∣dy.

Trouble me no more: be gone—

Ay, ay, thou dost this now to try whether I have so little honour as to quit thee, but it won't pass, my dear Rascall; kiss me, I'le live and dye with thee.

Sir, let me tell you, this is very rude: and upon my word I have no quarrel unless you'l force one upon me.

Still do I like this man better and better.—

Nay, then I smell a Rat—Farewell Iack—Servant, Dear Hearts.

But, are you sure my Lady Vaine is such a one.

Yes, that I am, my little peevish Jealous Mistress.

Yes, yes, I have reason to be jealous of such a Treasure as you are: But pray, to satisfie a little scruple I have, see her no more.

We had best change the Scene, I think, what if you shou'd walk out a little.

I care not much if I doe.

I cou'd find in my heart to go along with you.

Yes, and leave me agen for your Honour for∣sooth.

How Devillishly impertinent is this for you to harp upon one string still.

Let's pursue our design.

Agreed: and to our wish here comes my Cozin Positive.

Oh! Have I found you: I'le tell you the pleasant'st thing in the World.

Sir, I am just now going to a Lawyer of the Temple to aske his Councell.

P'shaw, p'shaw; save thy Money, what need'st thou do that, I'le do't for you; why I have more Law, then ever Cooke upon Littleton had; you must know, I am so eminent at that, that the greatest Lawyers in England come to me for ad∣vice in matters of difficulty: Come, state your Case, let's hear't, Come.—Hold, hold Cozen, Whither

Let me goe, I am going in haste to bespeak a Seale.

A Seale; Why do'st thou know what thou do'st now? To go about that without my advice: Well, I have gi∣ven Symons and all of e'm such Lessons, as I have made e'm stand in admiration of my Judgment: Do you know Page  57 that I'le cut a Seale with any man in England for a thousand Pound.

I have my Lesson, I'le warrant you I'le do't.

I must go now to bespeak it; I am to send it immediately to my Sister at the English Nunnery in Bruges.

Bruges! ah dear Bruges; now you talk of Bruges, I am writing this night to Castel Rodrigo, you must know I have thought of their Affaires, and consider'd e'm thoroughly; and just this very After-noon I have found out such a way for e'm to preserve Flanders from the French, I defie all Mankind for such an Invention; and I think I offer him very fair, if he will let me divide the Government with him, I'le do't; otherwise if Flanders be lost, 'tis none of my fault.

What is your Design Sir Positive?

That thou shoud'st be so very foppish to aske que∣stions?

I'le tell you, I will this year; pray mark me, I will bring 100000 Men into the Field, d'ye see.

But, Where will you have these Men, Cozen?

Have e'm P'shaw, p'shaw, let me alone for that; I tell thee Stanford, I will bring 100000 men into the Field, 60000 in one Compleat body, and 40000 for a flying Army, with which I will enter into the very Body of all France.

O Devil! I had rather Flanders shou'd be lost, then hear any more on't.

But this would signifie nothing, unless it were done by one that understands the conduct of an Army, which if I do not, let the World Judge: but to satisfie you, I'le tell you what I'le do, pray mark me, I will take threescore thousand Spanish Souldiers, and fight with 60000 French, and cut e'm off every M•n: pray observe one, this is demonstration; then will I take those very numericall Individual Frenchmen I spoke of.

What, after you have cut e'm off every man.

Pish; What doest talk Man? What's matter whe∣ther it be before or after, that's not to the point? P'shaw, pre∣thee don't thee trouble thy self for that, I'le do't man; I will take those very 60000 French and fight with a Spanish Army of Page  58 100000, and by my extraordina•y Conduct destroy e'm all, this is demonstration, nothing can be plainer then this; by this you may guess whether I may not be a considerable Man to that N•tion or no.—Nay, more then that, I'le undertake if I were in Can∣dia, the Grand Visier would sooner expose himself to the fury of the Ianizaries, then besiege the Town while I were in't.

I cannot tell whether I am more tormented with Sir Positive, or pleas'd with Stanford, he is an extraordinary man.

But as I was saying, Cozen Emilia; I will have 100000 men in the Field, and I will man the Garrisons to the full: besides pray observe, I will have an infinite store of Provision every where, and pay all my Souldiers to a penny duly.

But where's the Money to do this Cozen?

What shall I do? Whether shall I turn me?

Ah Dear Emilia!

VVhere's the Money, that's good one 'Faith!— Prethee dear Cozen do thou mind thy Guittar; thou dost not understand these things.

I am sure I understand you to be the greatest Coxcomb in Nature.

Then I will make you me a League Offensive and Defensive with the King of England, the Emperor and Princes of Germany, the King's of Sweden and Denmarke, the Kings of Por∣tugal and Poland, Prester Iohn, and the Great Cham, the States of Holland, the Grand Duke of Muscovy, the Great Turk, with two or three Christian Princes more, that shall be nameless; and if with that Army, Provision and Alliance, I do not do the business, I am no Judge, I understand nothing in the VVorld.

O Sir Positive! my Lady Vaine wou'd speak with you at your Lodging immediately.

Cods my life-kins, Stanford, I am heartily sorry I must leave you.

So am not I.

I beg your pardon a thousand times. I vow•t Gad I wou'd not leave you but upon this occasion.

How glad am I of the occasion!

O yes! we do believe it.

But hark you Cozen, and Stanford, you must pro∣mise me not to take it ill, as I hope to breathe I mean no incivi∣lity in the World.

Oh no, no, by no meanes.

Your Servant.—

Come, Lovel, let's follow him, and either prepare him, or find out some others for a fresh incounter.

Allon's, but be sure, Roger, you forget not what I said to you.—

I will not, Sir.

How Curteously he excus'd himself, for not torment∣ing us more.

This is the first good turne my Lady Vaine e're did me.

No, Madam, this was my ingenuity; I ne'r saw my La∣dy Vaine, not do I know where she is.

Cozen and Mr. Stanford, I have consider'd on't, and I vow to Gad I am so affraid you'l take it ill, that rather then disoblige you, I'le put it off.

O no Sir, by no meanes; 'twould be the rudest thing in the World to disobey your Mistress.

Nay, 'Faith I see thou art angry now, 'prethee don't trouble thy selfe, I'le stay with thee.

Hell and Damnation! this is beyond all suffe∣rance.

Let me advise you by all meanes to go to your Mis∣tress.

Well! if you won't take it ill, I'le go; adieu.

That's he, seize him.

Sir, by your leave, you must go to the Captain of the Guard.

O! into•lerable! What's the matter now?

I do not know, but I guess 'tis upon a quarrel betwixt you and one Lieu•enant Huffe.

Was ever any thing so unfortunate as this? Can't you defer't an houre?

I am commanded by my Officer and dare not diso∣bey.

How loath am I to leave this Woman; there is some∣thing extraordinary in this—Madam; I am willing enough to stay with you, but you see I am forc'd away:—stay you here Roger.—

VVhat an unlucky accident is this? but my misfor∣tunes never faile me.—

So, he's safe, and I have done what I in honour ought to do; and now honest Roger, my dear Bully-Rock, I'le stay with thee, prethee kiss me, thou art the honestest Fellow in the World.

Sir, I am glad I can Repay your Commendations; I have the best newes for y'e that ever you heard in your life.

Me! VVhat is't Dear Heart?

VVhy, I'le tell you, the Lady Emilia is in love with you.

In love with me, fy, fy, Pox on't what a VVheadling Rogue art thou now? VVhy should'st thou put this upon thy Friend now?

Sir, this suspition of yours is very injurious: Let me tell you, that I am sure I have not deserv'd it from you Sir.

Nay, I must confess, I have alwayes found thee an ho∣nest Fellow, Dear Heart; but a Pox on't, she can't love me: P'shaw, me? VVhat, what can she see in me to love me for? no, no.

Sir! upon my life, it's true.

Ha, ha, Dear Rascal, kiss me, the truth on't is, I have thought some such thing a pretty while, but how the Devil com'st thou to find it out, on my Conscience thou art a Witch.

O Sir! I am great with her Maid Luce, and she told me her Lady fell in love with you for singing, she says you have the sweetest Voice, and the delicatest Method in singing of any man in England.

As Gad shall sa'me, she is a very ingenious Woman; Dear Dog, Honest Rascal here, here's for thy Newes, I'le go in and give her a song immediately—

How greedily he swallows the bait: but 'these self∣conceited Ideots can never know when they are wheadl'd.

P'shaw, p'shaw, ad'au'tre, ad'au'tre, I can't abide you shou'd put your tricks upon me.

Come, Ninny, leave Fooling, you know I scorn it, I have always dealt faithfull with you.

Nay▪ but dear Sir, speak! are you in Earnest?

Doe you intend to affront me, you had as good give me the lye.

No, dear Sir, I beg your pardon for that, I believe you, But how came you to know it?

Her Sister Carolina told me so, and that she fell in love with you for reading a Copy of your own Verses: she sayes you read Heroick Verse with the best Grace of any man in England.

Before George she's in the right of that, but Sir—

'Slife ask no more questions, but to her and strike while the Irons hot: have you done you business Roger?

Most dextrously Sir.

Let's away—

Love me? I am o'rejoy'd, I am sure I have lov'd her a great while.

Fa, la, la, la, &c.

Heav'n! this will distract me, what a vile noise he makes worse then the Creaking of a Barn door, or a Coach wheel un∣greas'd.

This is damn'd unlucky that he shou'd be here to hinder my design.

What a pox makes him here, but I'le on in my bus'ness Madam, I'le speak you a Copy of Verses of my own that have a great deal of mettle and soul, and flame in'em.

But I will not hear'em, Sir.

Alas poor fool he hopes to please her, but it won't do, ha, ha, ha.

What the devil can she mean by this, sure she can't be in Earnest: No, I have found it; Ay, ay, it must be so, she wou'd not have me speak before him, because she wou'd not have him take notice of her passion, but what care I—

Prethee Ninny don't trouble the Lady with your Verses.

Well, well! Can't you let one alone—

Fa, la, la, la, &c.

What horrid Noise is this you make in my Ears? shall I never be free?

Alas! poor Coxcomb he hopes to please her with his Voice: No, no, he may spare his pains—I am the man.

What a pox ayles she? She's damnably out of humour what e'res the matter, I am sure Roger wou'd not deceive me of all men? what an ass am I, that I shou'd not find it, she's affraid my singing will incourage him to trouble her; or else she would not have him perceive her kindness—

Sure all the world conspires against me this day?

Fa, la, la, la, &c.

Why, what a damn'd Noise does he make; pox take me Madam, if one can be heard for him▪ Can't you let one alone with one's Verses trow.

Poor fellow! alas! he little thinks why I sing now?

If he thought how pleasant my rehearsing were to her, sure he wou'd not be so rude, but Mum for that.

O Madam! your fathers come to Town, and has brought a Country Gentleman to come a woing to you: he sent his man before hand to know if you were within, and one of the servants unluckily inform'd him before I cou'd see him: he sayes he's the most down-right plodding Gentleman the Countrey can afford.

What will become of me? is there no mercy in store for me?

Is he coming—nay then—hem—

I'le make haste before he comes to hinder me.

For Heav'ns sake let me goe.

Sing Repeat

Oh, hold, hold, hold. I faint if you give not over.

What a Devil does she mean by this, I am sure she loves me; but perhaps rather then indure the trouble of his Noise, she's willing to dispense with the pleasure of my Voice.

A poise take this VVoodcock that he shou'd anger this Lady, as I hope to live he's a very impertinent fellow, for though she was troubled at him, I perceiv'd she was transported with me.

It must be so, I must do ill that good may come on't: This Countrey-fellow will be the worst plague of all, since he has my fathers Authority to back him, I must be forc'd to subdue my own Nature, and flatter these Coxcombs to get rid of him, for they are so impudent they'l drive him from hence—

Madam, let me ask you in private, how did you like my song, speak boldly Madam, Ninny does not hear, Dear Heart?

I must needs like it, Sir, or betray my own Judgement.

Ah, Dear Roger! thou art a made man for ever. I am the man—

What's this I hear?

How did you like my Verses, Madam?

So well Sir, that I hope you will let me hear 'em often. What am I reduc'd to?

Oh Devil whats this?

How happy shall I be? the truth is I did perceive you were troubl'd at VVoodcocks senseless Songe, how we wou'd enjoy our selves if he were gone?

Is it possible I shou'd be deceiv'd so much?

I'le tell thee Dear Heart, if thou bee'st troubled at Ninny's Rimes, upon my honour I'le beat the Rogue.

This is she, Sir.

Your servant, Madam.

'Death she is a very Gossip, and Converses with all sort of fools, not only with patience, but with pleasure too, how civilly she entertains them? That I shou'd be such an Owl to think there could be a woman not impertinent, I have not patience to look upon her longer.—

It won't doe Ninny, her father little thinks she's ingag'd Dear Heart.

No, no, her father little thinks she's ingag'd,

He may go down Ninny like an Ass as he came, shee'l send him down with a flea in's ear take that from me.

What a poise! he does not know she loves me! does he?

Poor fool! I pity him: ha, ha, ha.

So do I, alack, alack.

Madam, I am but just now come to Town, you see my Boots are dirty still, but I make bold as the saying is.

More bold then welcome, I assure you Sir.

Thank you good sweet Madam; this is the most ob∣liging Gentlewoman that ever was—

By this he shewes the Impatience of his Love (Daughter.)

Madam, I am a son of a Whore, if I have not the best song upon that subject, that ever you heard in your life.

Before George Madam, I'le repeat you Copy of Verses of my own ten times better then his song.

You are an impudent Coxcomb to say so, Dear Heart, And ye lye, and I am satisfy'd.

Do I so, Madam, do but you judge.

What can this mean? they are both mad.

Hold, hold, are you both mad, is the Devil in you, if he be, I shall have them will conjure him out of you. Come out you Coxcombs, or I•le drive you out.—

These Gentlemen are as mad as March-Hares, Ma∣dam, as the saying is, but to our bus'ness, I had not the power as I was a saying, to keep from you longer, Lady, not so much as a pissing while, d'ye see! for Cat will to kind as the saying is.

Oh, Sir, you complement, you are an absolute Countrey Courtier.

Who I, alas not I, in sober sadness, we that live in the Countrey are right down d'e see, we call a spade a spade, as the saying is for our part.

You doe well Sir, for hypocrisie is an abominable vice.

'Tis indeed to be a Pharisy, and carry two faces in a hood, as the saying is.

Now I wish my to'ther two fools would come back and drive away this.

I perceive you are very good at Proverbs, Sir don't you use to play at that sport with the Countrey Gentlewomen.

O yes, I am old dog at that, I am too hard for 'em all at it, d'e see.

O rarely! I can't chuse, to fill ones belly with Curds and Cream, and stewd Prunes, to eat Honey-comb, and Rashers of Bacon at poor neighbours houses, and Rise by five a clock in the Morning to look to my dayry.

O rare how we shall cotten together, as the saying is, I love a good huswife with all my hea•t, but Madam, I have a cast of Hawkes, and five couples of Spaniels too, oh Madam, if you saw my beloved Bitch Venus, you would be in love with her, shee's the best at a Retrieve of any Bitch in England d'e see.

Is he here? this is Heaven to me to see him after my late afflictions.

I will forsooth, I'le go see my horses fed the while.

This is a modester fool then the others I am troubl'd with, but if my father had been here I shou'd not so easily have got rid of him—What are you come agen?

Ay, ay, too soon I am sure.

Are you not very foppish that you did not stay longer then?

This accusation becomes you well indeed.

Why not Sir?

Alas, you are not impertinent, no, no, not you!

I am sure you are: what can this mean?

You were never pleas'd with Woodcocks damn'd voice yet, not Ninny's ridiculous Poetry, not you?

Not more, than your self.

No, no, you were not pleas'd with them you did not praise 'em, nor entertain the other Two Fools with kindness, no not you?

What a ridiculous thing 'twas of you not to tell me this in one word.

Oh Heaven! are they here!

How soon you can counterfeit the humour.

You see, I am as good as my word Stanford.

You See, Madam, how ready I am to wait on your Ladi∣ship.

Ay, to my cost I thank you.

She thinks I am so easily bit as to take this for a satis∣faction, but I am too old to be deceiv'd agen.

Now Madam to our bus'ness, if we don't put'em out of this humour, 'tis strange.

However let's use our lawful Endeavours towards it.

Sing Repeat.

'Slife Sir, I'le teach you to trouble this Lady with your pitiful •imes.

You teach me, nay, if you provoke me before Company you shall find me a Lion.—

Have at y'e, Dear Heart.

Hold Woodcock! why shou'd you disparage Poet Ninny, He's a man of admirable parts, and as cunning a fellow between you and I Stanford, I believe he's a Jesuite, but I am sure he's a jansenist.

He a Jesuite, that understands neither Greek nor La∣tine.

Now he talkes of that, Stanford, I'le tell thee what a Master I am of those Languages; I have found out in the Pro∣gress Page  69 of my Study, I must confess with some diligence, four and twenty Greek and Latine words for Black Puddens & Sausages.

Think to huff me? I cou'd show you a matter of 200 wounds I got when I was a Volunteer aboard the Cambridge, Dear Heart, wou'd make you swound to look upon 'em.

Cambridge, well that Cambridge is a good ship, and do you know, Stanford, that I understand a Ship better then any thing in the World.

Do you speak, Madam, you are pleas'd with this—

Methinks you are as troublesome as he.

You may talk of your Petts and your Deanes,•le build a Ship with any of e'm for 10000. pound.

VVhat will become of me, for if I shou'd goe, they wou'd follow me.

This is extreamly well Painted.—

Painted? VVhy? Do you under∣stand Painting?

Not I Sir.

I do; if you please leave that to me: 'Tis true, Mi∣chael Angelo, Titian, Raphael, Tintaret, and Iulio Romano, and Paulo Veronese were very pretty hopeful Men; but I wou'd you saw a Peice of mine, I shew'd you my Magdalen, Emilia, and I protest I drew that in half an houre.

O! VVhat shall I do to get rid of all these Tormen∣tors.

I cannot but like this Woman, yet what ere's the mat∣ter; and yet I am sure she is impertinent.

Let me see. H. H.—Oh Deare! Hans Holbin, here are Stroakes, here's Mastery; well, no man in England shall de∣ceive me in Hans Holbins hand, take that from me.

In good earnest, L•vel, that's very pleasant Han's Hol∣bin; why 'tis a new Sign for my Landlord, finish'd but yester∣day, that cost him a Noble the Painting, done by a Fellow that Paints Posts, and Railes, one Humphrey Hobson, and he calls him Hans-Holbin.

Indeed Mr. Woodcock, fifty miles in a day was well run.

'I faith was't Dear Heart.

Run; why, Why will you pretend to running in my Company; you run, why I have run sixty miles in a day by a La∣dies Coach, that I fell in Love withall in the streets, just as she was going out of Town, Stanford; and yet I vow to thee I was not breath'd at all that time.

Mathematicks; why, Whose that talkes of Ma∣thematicks, let e'm alone, let e'm alone: Now you shall see Stanford.

Why, 'twas I Dear Heart.

I dear heart, quoth 'a; I don't think you under∣stand the principles on't; 'o my Conscience you are scarce come so farr yet as the squaring of the Circle, or finding out the Longitude Mathematicks: Why this is the onely thing I value my selfe upon in the World Cozen Emilia.

Heav'n! deliver me.

Curse on e'm all.—Well, there must be something more in this Woman then I imagine.

Cittern, Cittern! Who nam'd a Cittern there? Who was't▪ Who was't?

Now am I affraid to speak to him, he does so snub one: •Twas I and please you Sir Positive

You talke of a Cittern before me? when I invented the Instrument.

—Stand up to him in Mathematicks; To him.

Say you so, well then, By the Lord Harry, Sir Positive, I do understand Mathematicks better then you; and I lye over against the Rose-Taverne in Coven-Garden, Deart Heart.

I will justify with my Sword that you understand nothing at all on't—Draw.

Nay, hold, hold, I have done Bully-Rock, if you be so angry; but it's a hard case you won't give a man leave to understand a little Mathematicks in your Company, Deare Heart.

Pox on't, I have told thee often enough of this, thou wilt still be putting thy self forward to things thou do'st not understand.

This Impudence is beyond all example, and there is no possibility of getting from e'm.

I'le tell you one thing, Cozen, you cannot under∣stand.

I'le be hang'd then.

You cannot Cheat at Dice.

Ha, ha; Why you don't know me sure, you never heard of me.

Metaphysicks.

Faith, well thought on, Lovel, prethee put me in mind of that presently, if I don't give you that account of Me∣taphisicks shall make you stare agen, cut my throat: But, as I hope to live, Stanford, 'tis a strange thing Carolina shou'd be so neer a Kin to me and not know me! False Dice, I have spent my time very well indeed, if any man out-does me in that; for your Goades, your High Fullams, and Low Fullams, your Cater Deuse Ace, and your Size Cater-Deuse, your sinke Trey Ace, your Barr Cater-Trey, your Barr-Sink-Deuse, your Barr-Sise-Ace, and all that, when I have study'd e'm these sixteen years—Co∣zen Emilia, you know this, don't you?

Oh horrid! What will become of me?

Sure I was mistaken, for this must be a Woman of sence, I love her extreamly, I wou'd I did not.

But what was that, Lovel, I desir'd you to put me in mind of?

Leger, De-Maine.

Good, there 'tis now; I had thought I had kept that quality to my self of all things in the World: sure the De∣vil must help thee, Lovel, How coud'st thou come to know that I understood Leger-de-maine else? why, I'le perform all Tricks of Leger-de maine with any man in England, let him be what he will; For the Cups and Balls, Iack-in-a-Pulpit, St. Andrewes-Cross.

Undoubtedly, Lovel, Cardinal Mazarine was a great States-man.

States-man do you say? Cardinal Mazarine a States-man? well, I will say nothing of my self for that; no, I am no States-man: But, you may please to remember, who was bob'd at Ostend, ha, ha, What say you Stanford?

O Heaven! Can you contrive no way of esca∣ping?

Let's e'ne try what we can do, for we had better be with one another then with these Fooles.

Betwixt you and I, was the man that manag'd all that business against him.

Good lack a day, Madam, this Gentleman has a bottomless understanding.

He's a very rare man, and has great power and imagina∣tion.

As any man in Europe, deare heart.

This very thing has made me so famous all over Eu∣rope, that I may be at this instant Chiefe Minister of State in Russia, but the truth on't is, Stanford, I expect that neerer home.

Iacob Halls a most admirable Rope-Dancer, Mr. Wood∣cock.

Honest Roger! How the Devil coud'st thou find me out in that, Iacob Hall has told thee, has he not? I thought he wou'd ha' kept that to himself; but I taught him, nay, I taught the Turke himself.

Hey, from a States-man to a Rope-Dancer, What a leap was there?

My Maid is excellent at Pastry.

Ha, why there tis▪ now upon my Honour I understand this ten times better then any thing I have spoke off yet, Pastery, why, the Devil take me if I would not be content never to eate pye but of my own making as long as I live; I'le tell you, when I was but four years old, I had so rich a fancy, and made such extraordinary dirt pies, that the most eminent Cookes in all Lon∣don, wou'd come and observe me, to steal from me.

I beseech you, Madam Emilia, take notice of Sir Positive, he is a Prodigy of understanding.

Ah Madam, 'tis your pleasure to say so; but 'twas this made me skilful in the art of Building, which is the onely Art I am proud of in the World; I•le tell you, Stanford, I have seventeen Modells of the City of London of my own making 〈◊〉 the worst of e'm makes London an other-guess London then 〈◊〉 like to be; but no man in England has those Modells of Houses that I have.

This affliction is beyond all example; why the Devil do'st thou provoke him to this?

Were it not a ridiculous thing of me not to please my self?

That's true; but, What will become of us in the mean time?

Heaven knows this door's lock'd, and there's no esca∣ping at the other.

I'le tell you, Madam, the other day a damn'd old Rat eate me up a Dining-roome and Withdrawing-Cham∣ber worth Fifty pound.

A Rat eate up a Dining-Roome and Withdrawing-Room, How cou'd that be?

O fy, Sister, it's no matter how; why, Will you aske him?

Why, I make all my Modells of Houses in Paste; I vow to Gad I am asham'd to tell you how much it costs me in a year in Milk, Meale, Eggs and Butter.

Dear Sir Positive, I think you understand more the• ever Solamon did.

No, no, Madam, alass not I, I understand little, but I'le tell you, Madam, what was said of me the other day, by some great persons that shall be nameless.

What was that, Sir?

That I was a man of the most universal knowledge of any man in England; but without comparison the best Po∣et in Europe.

—Now Lovel to your poast.

Navigation.

Navigation d'ye talk of?

Geography.

Geography d'ye talk of?

Astronomy.

Astronomy d'ye talk of?

Palmestry.

Phisick.

Divinity.

Surgery.

Arithmetick.

Logick.

Cookery.

Magick.

Hold, hold, hold, hold!

Navigation, Geography, Astronomy, Palmestry, Phisick, Divi∣nity, Surgery, Arithmetick, Logick, Cookery and Magick: I'le speak to every one of these in their order; if I don't understand e'm every one in perfection, nay, if I don't Fence, Dance, Ride, Sing, Fight a Duel, speak French, Command an Army, play on the Violin, Bag-pipe, Organ, Harp, Hoboy, Sackbut, and double Curtal, speak Spanish, Italian, Greek, Hebrew, Dutch, Welch and Irish, Dance a Jigg, throw the Barr, Swear, Drink, Swag∣ger, VVhore, Quarrel, Cuffe, break Windowes, manage Af∣fairs of State, Hunt, Hawke, Shoot, Angle, play at Catt, Stool∣ball, Scotch-hopp and Trap-ball, Preach, Dispute, make Speeches.—

Hell and Fu•ies.

Oh, oh,—

Nay, hold, I have not told you halfe, if I don't do all these, and fifty times mo•e, I am the greatest Owle, Pimp, Monkey, Jack-a-napes, Baboon, Rascal, O•fe, Ignoramus, Log∣gerhead, •ur-dog, Block-head, Buffoone, Jack-pudden, Tony, or what you will; spit upon me, kick me, cuff me, lugg me by Page  75 the eares, pull me by the Nose, tread upon me, and despise me more then the World now values me.—

IF you be my Friend, as you profess to be, you will not deny me this.

I am your Friend, and would not have you perplex your self with what you see there's no end of; Can this frowardness relieve you?

Good sir, none of your Grave advice, I am resolv'd to relieve my selfe, by abandoning all conversation.

How can you brook Emilia's company?

Pish! she's not altogether so troublesome: aske me no more Questions.

Hah! Does he like her? Thus farr my Designe thrives: Well! I'le keep e'm from you a while: but the Hounds are so eager, they'l never endure pole-hunting Long.—

You hear, Madam, we are not like to be long free from these inhumane persecutors.

Why will you call e'm so? you know I am pleas'd with e'm: They are my Recreation as you were pleas'd to say.

No, no; you have convinc'd me of the Contrary: but, How can you blame me for so easie a Mistake?

You are a very fit Man to despise impertinent people: you are!

'Till be very wisely done to stand muttering here, till the Fooles in the next Room-break-in upon you.

Perhaps as wisely done, as to trust my selfe with you, as you have behav'd your self.

If you have no more sence then to stay longer: I shall be assur'd of what I was but jealous of before.

What would your wisdome have me do now?

The VVorst of them would not have ask'd such a Question: who but you would be in doubt, or would not fly as a Thiefe does from a Hue and Cry.

There's no hope of escaping.

Now will you in despair of avoiding them, stay here, and keep e'm company.

'Twere vaine presumption to hope for Liberty by Miracle; they will no more lose us, then an Attorny will a young Squire that's newly waded into Law; who will be sure never to leave him till he has brought him out of his depth.

By this rule you shou'd not resist a Man that comes to Ravish you, because he's like to be too strong for you; but if you did not use the meanes, your honesty would be no more admir'd is that, then your Wisdome in this.

I would run into a fire to be quitt of e'm.

Well! I am content to go along with you, not for your sake, but my own.

Perhaps my inclinations are not much ••like yours.

O Stanford, I can no longer keep them from you, 'tis as easie to stop a Spring-Tide.

Now, Whose fault was this? a Curse upon your de∣laying, now 'tis too late to fly.

Do'st talke of flying, Iack; I'le teach thee to do that with the greatest ease in the World: 'tis true, I heard of a Coxcomb that broke his neck with the Experiment, but if I had been by him, I wou'd have taught him to have flown with the best Goss-Hawke in the World.

O! Impudence!

And for my own part for one flight or so, for I will not straine my self for any mans pleasure; I do't but for my Recreation: I am not mercenary. I will fly at a Herne with the •est Jer-Faulcon that ever flew; that's faire.

O very Fair! as can be, by all means Sir learn of him hee'l do't.

Do't Madam, I think so: I tell you all Elements are alike to me, I could live in any one of 'em as well as the Earth: 'Tis nothing but a sordid Earthy Nature in us makes us love the Earth better then any other Element.

I see it is in vain to torment our selves without endea∣vouring our Liberty.

That's cunningly found out.

Sir, if you can find a way to be rid of Sir Positive, and my Lady Vaine, I'le tell you how to quit your selves of the other.

We may set 'em one upon another, and by that we may either get rid or (at least) be a little reveng'd of 'em.

That may make some amends for your last neglect.

Now they are settl'd in their bus'ness, I'le leave 'em and go to my Tyrewoman in Coven-Garden, who has some Excel∣lent new Patterns of Lace for me, will you please to Squire me along.

I hope you have no design upon me: are your Intentions honourable?

Yes indeed are they, I intend no rape upon you.

Nor any other unlawful way of love.

Leave fooling, and let's away—Ex. Lov. Car.

'Sdeath I would you were under water one half hour in the mean time.

Faith I would I were Iack, thou wou'dst admire to see Page  78 what pleasure I take in lying under Water an hour or two, espe∣cially if the Water be warm!

Yes, yes, and you can eat fire too? can't yee?

P'shaw! you admire a man that eats fire among you, one that has a deprav'd pallate, and is not able to taste an Ash from an Oak-Coal, which I can distinguish as well as I can a pickl'd Herring from a Muscle.

Eate fire it is Impossible?

You are a Fopp, I pity your ignorance, eat fire? Why I'le eate Fire and Brimstone with the Devil himself man, what dost talk of that?

What am I forc'd to? Master Ninny, you have often profest some kindness to me.

And Madam may I never make Couplet agen if I don't love you better then I do Musick or Poetry.

And before George if I do not serve you!—

Then be sure the next thing Sir Positive pretends to: Contradict him in, and be as Positive as he is, and by this perhaps, you may deserve my kindness.

But suppose, Madam, he should draw upon me, and do me a Mischief.

Master Stanford and his man will bail you from that.

In confidence of this I shall be glad to serve you.

I wonder, dear Sir, a man of your incomparable Ability's shou'd want preferment.

Modesty! modesty! we that are modest men get no∣thing in this age.

Perhaps the World does not know of these things!

Not know! why I was never in Company with any man in my life; but I told him all.

And no man ever believ'd you, Dear Heart.

As I hope to breath, Iack this fellow's mad.

Ne're tell me, Dear Heart, I know you understand no∣thing Page  79 of all you have pretended to in comparison of me, Dear Heart.

Is not this very pleasant, Madam, ha, ha.

Nay, nay, never laugh for the matter, and think to bear up against all the World, do you think I don't think my self a better Poet then you.

And I a better Musitian;

You Impudent Baboons!

Let him alone, let him alone Woodcock.

Ay, ay, alas I laugh at him: ha, ha, ha.

Madam, the party has stay'd for you a good while at the setting Dog and Partridge.

Come, while they dispute, let's go—

Nay, Madam, if you don't stay to prevent Mischief, I have done: for I find I begin to grow furious, and dare not trust my own temper.

Have you the Impudence to say you are a better Poet, and you a better Musitian than I am?

Ay, ay, and not onely so, but a better Divine, Astro∣loger, Mathematician, Geographer, Seaman—

A better Physician, Lawyer, States-man, Almanack-maker.

Ay, and what shall break your heart, a better Trap-ball-player too, take notice of that—

In one word, I understand every thing that is or is not to be understood better then you doe: take that from me.

And let me tell you, Sir Positive, 'tis a very confident thing in you to pretend to understand any thing as well as I do.

O Impudence!

You understand! how should you come by understanding. Where had you you• Knowledge, Dear Heart? P'shaw.

What will this age come to?

You Insolence makes me blush, as I hope to breath, for Page  72 such an empty fellow to talk of wit or sence; p'shaw, prethee hold thy Tongue.

I am amaz'd!

I tell thee, dear Soul, I love thee so well, I would not have thee pretend to these things thou dost not understand.

Especially before such men as we that do under∣stand.

I can hold no longer, ye eternal Dogs, ye Currs, ye Ignorant Whelps: I'le sacrifice ye, let me go: if there be no more sons of Whores in England, I'le murder 'em.

Bear up to him, I'le prevent all Injuries.

Nay then Sir; never fret and fume for the matter: look you Sir, pray what can you do better then I?

Or I either: let's hear't, Dear Heart.

Hear it you Rascals, I'le rout an Army with my single valour: I'le burn a whole fleet at three Leagues distance; I'le make ship• go all over the world without sayles: I'le plow up rocks steep as the Alps in dust, and lave the Tyrrhene Waters into Clouds (as my friend Cateline sayes.)

P'shaw! you! I'le pluck bright honour from the pale fac'd Moon (as my friend Hot-spur sayes) what do you talk of that?

Certainly, he's distracted! this is some revenge.

This single head of mine shall be the balance of Christendom: and by the strength of this I'le undermine all Common wealths, destroy all Monarchies, and write Heroick Playes: ye dogs let me see either of you do that.

This is raving madness.

Wou'd I were well •id of him, I tremble every joynt of me.

With this right hand I'le pluck up Kingdoms by the roots, depopulate whole Nations, burn Cities, murder Mat•ons, and ravish sucking Infants, your Currs can you do this?

But Sir in the midst of your fury my Lady Vaine is gone away with a Gentleman.

Ah dear Roger which way did she go? show me quickly I'le bring her back and she shall see me take satisfaction of these Rascals.—

I'm glad you are gone, Sir, my heart was at my mouth, did I not do the business rarely, my pretty Rogue? How canst thou reward me for this? hah?

Unfortunate Woman! what am I reduc'd to? if you will go immediately to Oxford Kates, and stay for me in the great Room there, I will not fail to come to you in a little time. And let you know how sensible I am of this favour; go, go instantly and make no words on't.

I fly, Madam, O dear Roger: I have catch'd her, O Rogue! I'le provide a parson immediately: dear son of Whore let me kiss thee.—

I shall have a better opinion of her Wit then ever I had, if she gets rid of this brace of Iack-Puddens.

Ay Madam, you see what danger I have undergone: I am onely unhappy I have lost no bloud in the service: for as a Noble Author sayes,—It would have been to me both loss and gain. But shall I hope for any favour from you.

Let not Stanford perceive any thing; go and stay for me at Oxford Kates in the great Roome, and there we may freely speak our Minds.

And will you not fail to come?

No, no, but what ever happens remove not till I come to you: away, away, we are observ'd.

O admirable Fortune! sure I was born with a Caul on my Head, and Wrapt in my Mothers Smock, the Ladies do so love me.

I would these Two fools were oblig'd to stay there till I came to 'em.

Now I hope you will take Warning, and stay here no longer, where they may find you out, unless you take pleasure in 'em.

Where can I find a place of safe retreat?

I have a sister lives in Coven-garden a Tyre-woman, where at this time of night you may be private: if you please command the house.

Make haste then! O Heav'n is he return'd?

Pox on't I can't find my Mistress; where are these Rogues?

My Lady Vaine is return'd, and Ninny and Woodcock are with her in the next room.

Say you so? I'le in and first make the Puppy's recant their errours, and then murder 'em in presence of my Mistress.

So! you are fast.

Come away, away!

What is the house empty?—'Twas an unlucky thing That the Gentlemen should go before we came.

That may thank Sir Positive; would he were far enough for me for keeping your Ladiship so long.

Stanford: Emilia! open the door! there! help, help! help.

That's his voyce! what can be the matter? the Key is in the door, I'le in and see—

O Madam! your humble servant! If I don't murder Stanford may I never have any share in your Ladiships fa∣vour.

Did he lock you in?

Yes, Madam, for which with this blade that is inur'd to slaughter, will I slice him into Attoms.

No sweet Sir Positive restrain your passion, such a fellow 〈◊〉 he deserves to be toss'd in a blanket.

No, no, never talk of that Madam! Such a Revenge is below me, but I have a Pen that will bite and I'le do it vigorously. And yet the Rogue has done me a kindness: for if he had not lock'd me up, I had miss'd of your Ladiship.

Sir, upon my honour, I intended not to have stay'd from you!

But Madam, the loss of you has put me into that fright that I desire to make sure of you.

As how, good Sir?

To marry you this Night!

That's short Wa•ning.

But Madam, I have had your promise these three days And that's long enough to expect performance.

Madam! e'en take him at his Word.

But how shall I answer that to my friend in the Countrey?

Ne're trouble your self for that Madam, 'tis fashionable to have a servant as well as a husband, and besides the pleasure of a Gallant, there will be another, which is no small one to some women, of deceiving your husband.

Thou art in the right Wench: besides the failing of this assignation has set me so a Gogg I would very unwillingly lye alone to night.

Come Madam, I see you are consulting: Ile send for a Parson shall soon finish the debate.

Well Sir! Your Intentions are so honorable, I submit to you.

O intollerable happiness: Let's dispatch it immediate∣ly in this house.

No Sir! I'le carry you to a more private place.

Come Madam, I'le wait on you.—

Now I have dispatch'd this important bus'ness of wo∣man-kind, which is making themselves fine, we may return

To the place from whence we came, and from thence to the place of Execution; if you please: I'le have a Levi•e ready.

No Sir, I know you are too true a Son of the Church to venture that after the Canonical hour.

I am not so formal to observe a Method in any thing be∣sides Marriage, being at best unseasonable, can never be less then now.

To speak gravely; let us first take the advice of our pillows: since sleep being a great settler of the brain may be an Enemy to Marriage, for one wou'd think that few in their right Wits wou'd undertake so unseasonable an action: as you call it.

Must people then be tam'd into Marriage? as they man Hawks with watching.

What's here? my Sister with Stanford?

How unlucky is this, my Sister and an idle fellow with her.

Ne're trouble your self if your Sister be not a Fopp: He's none I'le assure you.

You are a very Competent Judge indeed.

How now Sister can you with all your gravity steal away by night with a Gentleman?

Come Stanford: there's Love betwixt you for nothing else can make men and women so shame fac'd as to seek out private places.

Come Sister if it be so: ne're mince the matter, 'tis the way of all flesh.

And we are so far onward on that way that if you don't make haste you will scarce overtake us.

Come confess Emilia what brought you hither?

I came to fly from Impertinence, and I have found it here.

That will not bring you off Sister: for if you did not like this Gentleman very well, you wou'd fly from him assoon as any man.

For my part I onely came to defend her from Assaults at this time o' night.

If you had not an Extraordinary value for her you Page  85 would not play the Knight-Errant to my Knowledge; Is not this dissimulation of yours very ridiculous.

I must needs confess I never saw any VVoman I dis∣lik'd less.

And, What say you Sister of this Gentleman?

To give the Devil his due, I have met with less affliction from him then from other men.

Nay, then in good earnest it must be a match.

That's wisely propos'd of you to me, that am immedi∣ately leaving the World.

If you neglect this opportunity, Sister, you'l ne're be so well match'd agen.

'Twill not be so pleasant to go alone as you ima∣gine.

No, no, take hands and march along I say.

That wou'd be much to the advantage of my ho∣nour.

I'le send for one shall satisfie that scruple, Madam.

The remedy is almost as bad as the Disease.

Perhaps if you consider, it 'twill be your VVisest• course.

No doubt I shou'd have an admirable Companion of you, as you think.

I find you have so great a passion for the Country Gen∣tleman my Father has provided for you, you will never be per∣swaded to be false to him.

He will be the greatest plague of all: What shall I do to be rid of him?

There is but one way Sister; E'ne dispose of your self to that honest Gentleman to have and to hold.

'Twill be very discreetly done, not to qu•t your self of this Country Fellow, and the rest of your Fooles, now it is in your power.

'Faith, Madam, be perswaded and joyn hands.

The truth is, I think we cannot do better then to leave the World together: 'twill be very uncomfortable wandring in desarts for you alone.

If I shou'd be so mad as to Joyn hands with you, 'twould not be so much an Argument of Kindness to you, as Love to my self; since at best I am forc'd to chuse the least of two great Evils, either to be quite alone, or to have ill Compa∣ny.

This will end in Marriage I see.

O no! I dare not think of that, if he shou'd grow troublesome, then 'twou'd be out of my power to cast him off.

Why there's no necessity we should be such Puppies as the rest of Men and Wives are, if we fall out, to live toge∣ther, and quarrel on.

The Conditions of VVedlock are the same to all.

VVhatsoever the Publick Conditions are, our private ones shall be, if either growes a Fopp, the other shall have liber∣ty to part.

I must confess that's reasonable.

Away Roger, and fetch a Canonical Gentleman.

I will Sir.

Faith, Madam, you have taken great paines, Was't for your self or me you did it?

You have a very civil opinion of your self I see.

O Sir! yonder's Sir Positive and my Lady Vaine just a∣lighted at the Door, with the man you sent for.

O undone! ruin'd for ever!

Slife you Rascal, did not you tell me I might be pri∣vate here?

Pray Sir do not fret, but make your escape out at the back doore.

Away, away! quickly for Heavens •ake!

Come, Madam! let's follow e'm.—

Will you never leave ones roome a little; I tell you I am busie.

So am I, and 'tis my roome deare heart, let me tell you that.

Before George, Woodcock, 'tis very Impertinent to trouble one thus.

So 'tis, Ninny, I wonder you'l do't; for my part, a man that had the least Soul of Poetry in him, would scorne to do this.

What! Do you say I have not a Soul of Poetry in me? I don't love to commend my self Woodcock; but, now I am forc't to't: I must tell you, I have six times as much power in me, as you have.

You lye dear heart!

Why, you lie then, to tell me that I lye, so you doe.

You are a Son of a Whore, dear heart, to tell me I lye.

You are a Son of a VVhore as well as my selfe, to tell me so, and you go to that.

I, I, you may say your pleasure; but have a care Bul∣ly-Rock, for if you give me the least affront, I'le break your Pate, take that from me.

I'le take it from no man: if you doe; I'le bre•k yours agen man, for all you are so briefe: 'Slife, one shan't speak to you one of these dayes, you are grown so purdy.

Well! well! Dear Heart!

VVell well too! and you go to that: if you be so fierce: But, I'de faine know what occasion there is for you and I to quarrel now?

Ay, what indeed dear heart; Therefore, prethee Dear Soul Kiss me, Dear Rogue, if thou lov'st me, go out of my Roome.

No, good sweet Woodcock now, go thee, I'le do as much for thee another time, as I hope to Live.

Dear Cutt I love thee; but prethee excuse me, I have a Mistress to meet in this very Roome; Therefore dear pretty Ninzy leave me.

Cods my Life kins to see the luck on't: may I never versify agen if I am not here upon the same occasion: I'le give thee five Guynny's if thou'lt leave me: I shall spare e'm well enough when I have got her.

I'de have you know, Ninny, I scorn your Guinny's, alass, poor Foole, he little thinks I shall be in a better Condition to spare fifty then he can five: VVhy then, in short, let me tell you I am to be mar•y'd within this halfe hour, in this very Roome, dear heart.

This is prodigious! may I never have Play take agen if I am not to be marry'd here within this halfe hour, and to a very great Fortune too.

So is mine, Bully-Rock!

Dear VVoodcock, let's reconcile this business here; I have two Dice, he that throws most stayes: then am I sure to be too hard for him that way, for I can nap a Six a-yard.

No, not I: by the Lord Harry, I'le not trust a business of that Concernment to Fortune.

Nay, then Sir, I will keep my Roome, I was first in't.

By that rule you shou'd go first out.

'Tis not you can turn me out.

Say you so: I'le try that!

At your own peril!

Can't you stand a little? Why do you go back so dear heart?

Let me alone, I know what I do in going back, I have the Law on my side, and if I kill you, it will be found se defendendo.

Ay, ay, Have you murd'rous Intentions dear heart? If you do kill me, I will declare upon my Death-bed, That you had Malice in your heart, dear heart.

Who I? as I hope to be sav'd I scorn your Words: I Malice; do your worst: I am better known then so: I am not so outragious: pray hear me a Word: You know we Authors and Ingenious Men have a great many Enemies.

We have so.

At this rate we may kill one another: and a Pox on e'm they'd be glad on't; and for my part I wou'd not dye to please any of e'm.

Nor I neither; therefore prethee leave me my Roome, to prevent danger.

I am not so base: but, if you will, let us lay down these dangerous Engines of Blood, and Contend a safer way, by the way of Cuffe and Kick.

Ay, ay, with all my heart; what a Pox care I: come, come, you shall see I dare do any thing, since you are resolv'd to try me.

Here we are in as much danger as ever: Could any thing be so foppish as returning to the place from whence we fled.

'Tis a sweet time of night to go upon the Ram∣ble.

We are safe enough from any body but my Father; and we cannot be troubled with him long: 'tis his hour of going to Bed.

How shall we dispose of the Country Fellow, if he should return.

Let me alone; I'le find a Trick for him: I liv'd in the same Town with him, and know him to be a down-right credu∣lous man, that will swallow any thing.

Now see what you have brought your self to?

Come Daughter, What think you of my choice of a Husband, He's extreme rich; and, Is he not a very accom∣plish'd Gentleman, hah?

There's a Fellow indeed, why he has not Soul enough for a Cock-Chicken.

You are a foolish froward Girle thus to despise your happiness; I'le tell you, either resolve to Marry him to morrow morning—

Heark you Sir! if you will take my advice, be not so hasty: you know young Ladies are alwayes Coy, and out of their little knowledge of the World, are apt to refuse that which may prove their greatest happiness.

What would you have me do with one that is so obsti∣nate?

If you please, take some milder way: let us withdraw, and wee'l all help to perswade her: you know it is not proper to be done before him.

I'le be •ul'd in this: but if perswasions will not do, force shall.

Be sure you seeme pliant to his Commands, it may advance our designe.

Sir, wee'l wait on you agen presently.

Your Servant Sir!—honest Roger in s•ber sadness I am glad to see you well; I had almost forgot you.

And, How does your sweet Sister Madam Dorothy?

O brave and lusty, as sound as a Roach, as they say.

I heard your Worship was Knighted.

No▪ not I Roger: I am not ambitious of that: As that excellent Proverb sayes; Honour will buy no Beife.

Now we are alone, Sir, I am oblig'd to tell you; I am sorry to▪ see one, whom I so much honour'd, so ill us'd.

Pish! its no matter man! I care not for Knight∣hood one pin of my slieve, as the saying is.

Sir, I mean something concernes your Worship near∣er.

Nearer! What can that be?

I must beg your Pardon for that; I may be ruin'd for my ••deavours to serve you.

VVhat, VVould any of your Town-Gallants bob me of my Mistress?

That were too good newes for you to be true?

Thank you for nothing: Is this the honour you have for me, to wish me the loss of a Mistress worth 10000. l. d'ye see; udds nigs that's a good one indeed.

10000. l. Ha, ha, ha; would she had it for her own sake and yours too?

Faith are you there with your Bears? nay then I have brought my Hoggs to a fair Market.

If she had had one of those thousands my Master would have Marry'd her long e're this; Sir, I have alwayes honour'd you, and could not in Conscience but tell you this, and now it is in your power to ruine me.

Nay, I'le be as silent as a Dormous, but is it pos∣sible?—

Nay, do not believe me if you please; but I have dis∣charg'd my duty: and, if you Marry her, the Inconvenience will be yours, not mine: Besides, if she had that Fortune you speak of, which she has as much as I have; What good would it do you in the end? She'l ner be perswaded to live in the Country, you must keep her in Town, with her Coach and six Horses, Pages and Lacquies: and she must visit the Playes, the Park, and the Mulberry-Garden.

O Lamen-table! this were the way to get a pair of Hornes bigger then the Staggs head in My-Hall has: but, if I were Marry'd to her, I•d get her into the Country as sure as a Gun.

If you shou'd, you'd have every week this Earle, that Lord; this Knight, and that Gentleman of her kindred come to take the fresh Aire; and to Hunt and Hawke with you in time of year.

Why they wou'd eate me out of House and Home, as the saying is.

They would despise your Beife and Mutton: you must keep a Couple of French-Cookes; and eate nothing but Pota∣ges, Fricasces, and Ragusts, your Champinions, Coxcombes and Pallats, your Andoilles, your Langue de porcean, your Bisks and your Olio's.

What are all these, several sorts of Sweet-Meats.

O no Sir! these must be your constant food, and every Dish will cost you a Piece; and, Will this be done with a small Portion of a Thousand Pound.

I shou'd soon bring a Noble to Nine-pence then as they say.

Then you must have your Quailes, Ruffs, Gnatts, God∣witts, Plover, Dotrills, Wheat-Eare, Cock of the Wood, and a hundred sorts of Fowles: besides, they would scorn your Ale and Sider, and March-Beer: you must have your Sellar full of Cham∣paign, Chablee, Burgundy, and Remedy Wines; But Mum Sir, if you love me.

Come, Sir, I have brought my Daughter to be obedi∣ent to my Commands, and I would have you prepare to be Mar∣ry'd to morrow morning,

I shall faile you d'ye see.

What is't you say?

I shan't be so civil, as the saying is.

This is madness.

No Sir, no; There's no catching old Birds with Chaffe, Fare-you-well.

D'hear Sir!

No, Sir, fare ye well—I am no Bubble, as they say.

I am amaz'd! I'le after him; and inquire into the bu∣siness, I must not lose this Son-in-Law.

The Rogue has done it dexterously.

Come Sir, here's a Parson in the next Roome, dispatch, while the old Gentleman's out of the House.

'Slife, Wo•dcock's here! I'le cut his Throat.

Pray none of your Hectoring here, to Alarm the House.

How now, Dear Heart! Why did not you come to me as you promis'd.

For Heavens sake go up into the Room two pair of Stairs, and I'le steal from hence, and give you an Account: make haste.

Come let's in before we be interrupted agen.

Hi'st Madam; before George 'twas unkindly done, not to remember your assignation just now.

You'l spoil all: I could not get loose; run into the garden there's a back door: I'le come to you immediately, make haste, we are observ'd.

O ho! this is something.

This woman has a soul.—

I have pursu'd him into this house, that has abus'd me so basely behind my back, and by this Whiniard, and by the spirit of Gun-powder: I'le sacrifice him to my fury: Come out you son of a Whore.

That this Puppy shou'd provoke me to draw upon him, that is so drunk he cannot stand.

That's a mistake, not so drunk yet, but if I had stood so∣berly to't, I should have been run through the Lungs before this.

Is there no end of our affliction?

Dear Cozen and Iack Stanford, give me Joy, I am marry'd to a Lady that is the greatest Pattern of Wit: and the greatest Example of Vertue that this age hath produc'd, and for her face look upon't, took upon it I say! she's a beauty take that from me, what say you Stanford?

Yes, yes, she's cursedly hansome.

If my glass does not flatter me: you are not deceiv'd in your Judgment, dear Sir.

Here I have brought Fiddles to rejoyce with you Iack and Cousin, since I know you love mirth as well as I do.

I had waited for thee my dear Miss if this unexpected Musick had not brought me hither.

How now? what Fiddles are these?

You dogs are you here? now Madam you shall see how I'le chastise these fellows that wou'd be Wits.

Hold dear Rogue! why should'st thou be angry? upon my honour I did but droll with thee, for by the Lord Harry I take thee to be one of the pillars of the Nation Dear Heart?

O' do you so?

Dear Sir Positive, I beg your pardon a thousand times, For my part I believe there never was a man of that prodigious understanding that you have.

Do you so? I knew it was impossible they shou'd be in Earnest, but do you hear? have a Care of being Positive another time, a man wou'd think you might learn more Modesty of me.

Come Dear Heart, art thou here: prethee kiss me, and let's be friends for all our late Cuffing: what need we care for a douce or two of the Chops Bully Rock.

Nay for my part I value it as little as you do, and you go to that.

What Ryots this in my house? at this time o' night?

Riot! do you understand what a Riot is in Law: I'le tell you: for no man in this Nation has committed more then I have.

Tell me not of Law Sir? what mean these Fiddles I say at this time o' night?

Unckle they are mine: I am marry'd to this Lady, and resolve to be merry in your house before we go to Bed.

Is that it? give you Joy, your Cozin Emilia and this Gentleman will not be long after ye.

Sir, you are mistaken, your daughter has dispos'd her self in another place.

How the devil did he know that Ninny?

He little thinks where she has bestow'd her self, ha, ha, ha.

No, no, nor thee neither, dear Rogue, ha, ha, ha.

Well! honest VVoodcock, I think I may trust thee, thou art my Friend; I am the man she has made choice of, and thou shalt be my Bride man.

Ha, ha, ha, poor whelp! how he will find himself bobb'd immediately: that this Coxcomb should not find all this while that I am the man.

It cannot be what without my Knowledge or Consent?

Ay, ay, she's dispos'd on; Dear Heart.

Ay, Ay, she's dispos'd on.

To whom?

To me.

To me.

To me.

How now to all three?

Sir, she has taken Master Stanford, and I Master Lovell as sure as a Parson can make us.

What do I hear?

Sir, I beseech you be not offended, their Births and For∣tunes are not unequal to ours, and if they were, 'twere too late for it to be redrest.

Is this true?

Yes Sir, perhaps too true.

Am I fool'd after all this? well I say no more, Dear Hearts.

Well let the Nation sink or swim an'it will for me: henceforward instead of Heroick Verse, hereafter I will shew all my power, and soul and flame, and mettle in Lampoon, I durst have sworn she had lov'd me.

Well! Heaven bless you together since you have don't.

So Sir, I see my Cakes dough, as they say; but I hope you'l pay the Charges of my Journey d'ye see.

Well Cozins I am glad of your good Fortunes, and for my own part, if I understand any thing in the world I am hap∣py in this Lady.

Sir! you are pleas'd to Complement.

Sir Positive here's a Letter was left for you, it comes out of the Countrey.

Come Master Woodcock! and Master Ninny notwith∣standing you are displeas'd let's have your Company a little longer.

Nay for my part, Dear Heart, I do not care what be∣comes of me?

Nor I neither as little as any man.

Don't betray your self to the Company.

Well! this is the first thing in the World that I have met with which I did not understand: but I am resolv'd, I'le not acknowledge that: Master Lovell I knew well enough what I did when I marry'd her, He's a wise man that marry's a harlot, he's on the surest side, who butan Ass would marry at uncertainty.

What will not a Positive Coxcomb defend?

Since we are all agreed: in stead of a grand Dance ac∣cording to the laudable Custome of Weddings, I have found out a little Comical Gentleman to entertain you with.

No Wedding day was ever so troublesome as this has been to me.