The woman-captain a comedy acted by His Royal Highnesses servants / written by Tho. Shadwell.

ACT. II.

Enter Sir Humphry, Bellamy, Wildman, Phillis, Celia, Chloris. Servants waiting at Dinner.

Sir Humph.

CAll in my Musick! I'll consecrate my Birth-Day to all my Senses: He is a narrow-hearted Ass that pleases one at once; I'll please as many as I can together.

Bell.

It is Ingenious Luxury!

Sir Humph.

I hate a mere Glutton, a mere Drunkard, or a meer Wencher; They are as bad as meer Scholars or meer Lawyers, good for nothing else: That man is happiest that takes delight in most things: There's not a Virtue or a Vice I'll leave untry'd for Pleasure or for Curiosity.

Wildm.

There spoke a Cherub; Fill up the Bowl then, fill it high; fill all the Glasses up; for why, here's our noble Friend's, Sir Hum∣phrey's Health.

Bell.

Give me a Brimmer to celebrate his Birth-day. Ladies, There's no scaping this Health. Men of Rosin and Cats-guts, strike up.

Sir Humph.

Strike up! D' hear Rascals! Let me have costlier Scents, and fume the Room; my Nostrils are not pleas'd enough.

Bell.

Are all ready? a Thousand years to you.

Wildm.

And all the while the joy of Wine, Youth, and Beauty with you.

Phill.

Thy everlasting Health, my Dear!

[Sound an Alarm all toge∣ther. They flourish.

Enter Gripe, Steward, and Richard▪

Stew.

My Lord, Mr. Gripe has drawn Bills; they are accepted, and he is come to have you Sign and Seal—

Sir Humph.

Kick that old Fool out, is he come to interupt my plea∣sure with damn'd confounded Business? which always must with me give way to my delight.

Stew.

How this must rejoyce my old Master's Ghost, cou'd he but see it!

Gripe.

Good! How fast his Worships Land will m•…•…lt into my Cof∣fers; these are foolish Sense-pleasers, Richard.

Sir Humph.

Sit down and eat with us, Mr. Gripe.

Gripe.

I will not eat luxurious Meats: I love no Surfeits.

Bell.

Give him a Beer Glass to Sir Humphrey's Health.

Gripe.

I have renounced Wine, I do not care for Feavers, nor will I please one Sense I have.

Cel.

Out on him! Filthy fellow▪ will he not please his Senses?

Bell.

Methinks a Feaver should be a very pleasant Disease for an old Man.

Rich.

Are you mad Sir! why 'twill cost you nothing; at least give me leave to snap at a little Meat and Wine.

Gripe.

You Rascal! will you Disgrace my House-keeping. They'l think y'are Hungerstarv'd—

Rich.

They'l not think much amiss.

Gripe.

Peace you damn'd Epigram! contein your self, or I will mawl your Pate for you: Laugh at these Sense▪ pleasers; They will dye in Ditches, fool.

Richard.

Better dye than live in Ditches, and we live worse—for Frogs have a better life than we.

Phill.

Let us not mind this Brute. But let your Servants Dance their Entry you promis'd—

Sir Humph.

Let 'em begin!

Dance.

Does not this please you?

Gripe.

What is the worth of any thing, but so much Money as 'twill bring: He was a brave Poet that wrote that.

Sir Humph.

But here are fine Ladies! here's a sight for you, and to enjoy 'em in Dalliance, were pleasure infinite—

Gripe.

A huge Trunk-full of Bonds and Mortgages, and another great Coffer-full of Money to rowl and wanton in; There's a sight! there's rapture for you—

Sir Humph.

Yes, for Fools that make Money the end of their wishes, and not the means to other things. Come on! Sing the Song I love so well—

Gripe.

Pox on Songs! give me the Jingling of Money-bags.

SONG.

LEt some great joys pret•…•…nd to find In empty Whim•…•…ies of the mind; And nothing to the Soul can come, Till th' ushering Senses make it roo•…•…. Nor can the Mind be e'r at ease, Unless you first the Body please.

Lif•…•… is, what •…•…'re 〈◊〉〈◊〉 M•…•…n m•…•…y doub•…•…, But taking in and putting out. Since Life's but a Span, Live as much as you can: Let none of it pass without Pleasure; But push on your Strength Of what Life wants in length: In the Br•…•…adth you must make up the Measure.

2.

All solid Pleasures, Fo•…•…s lay by; And seek they know not what, nor why: Imperfect Images th' enjoy, Which Fancy makes, and can deftroy. Wh' in immaterial things delight, Dream in the Day as well as Night: In that how can they Pleasure take, Of which no Image Thought can make. Since Life's, &c.

3.

In vain no moment then be spent, Fill up the little Life that's lent; Feasts, Musick, Wine the Day possess; The Night, Lov•…•…, Youth and Beauty bless. The Senses now in parcels treat, Then all together by the great; No empty space in Life be found, But one continued Joy go round. Since Life's, &c.

Phill.

Very fine, I vow—

Celia.

Upon my word 'tis delicate!

Chl.

Well, Sir Humphrey's a sweet man.

Sir Humph.

How do you like this, Mr. Gripe?

Gripe.

'Tis abominable, profane, scandalous, and scurvy.

Sir Humph.

I'll try to please you; you shall hear an Italian Eunuch.

Gripe.

I had as lieve hear a Grey-hound with Trillo's and long Graces, sing a Love Song to the Moon; But much rather hear my Mastiff •…•…eaching my Neighbour's Hog his Gamut, when he comes into my Ground.

Sir Humph.

What think you of a broken Con•…•…ort of Violins

and Theorbo's joyn'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Italian Voices. I'll have that for you.—

Gripe.

I had rather hear a Broken Consort in my Hogyard: My Bores and Sows grunt out Harmonious Bases, my Hogs sing out their Brisker Countenours, my swee•…•… voic'd Pigs squeak out Melo∣dious Trebles.—

Bell.

What think you of a Consort of Cathedral Voices.

Gripe.

I had rather h•…•…ar sweet Frogs chant out their Anthems against Rain, joyn'd with the passionate voices of old Toads. And for my more sprightly Musick—Schreech Owls, and a Consort of Cats run mad for Love, with the Harmonious braying of some Asses; joyn'd to these a Paper-Mill for an Organ, a Pewterer, Silver-Smith, Trunk-Maker, with Tinkers playing thorough Bases upon Kettles. Tell not me of Musick; dispatch my Business.

Sir Humph.

Come I will withdraw with you, and Sign and Seal.

Phill.

Ladies, I will wait on you again instantly.

[Exit all but Bell. Wild. Celia, Chloris.

Bell.

Survey my youth, and reslect upon your own Beauty, and immagin whether it be possible to forbear thinking or talking of Love when we meet—

Celia.

Neither thinking nor talking of Love will do the business, I am engaged to Sir Nicholas Peakegoose, and would not be false for the whole world, I swear—

Bell.

True to him, 'tis impossible; you cannot love him, he's ug∣ly and foolish—

Celia.

Oh, but he's very good natur'd, and admires me extream∣ly—you that call your selves witty men, have some Love indeed; but 'tis like French Courage, hot in the Onset, and as swift in the retreat—

Wildm.

True to a keeper, sure you will not be a thing so out of fashion—

Chlo.

Oh Lord, I would not be false to Sir Chri•…•…topher Smash for all this earthly good: 'Tis a shame Women should be so false to their In∣trigues, as some are; I wonder at their Consciences. What do they think will become of their Souls another day?

Wildm.

Love heartily, as I do, and 'twill take away that scruple; let me tell you, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a great Sin, and I wonder you can have the Con∣science not to pity •…•…e: For you have struck me to the hea•…•…—

Chlo.

You are pleas'd to say so.

Wildm.

Will you hear me swear bloodily? by—

Chlo.

Hold! hold! have you no Religion in you? Lord, how I tremble for fear of an Oath!

Bell.

'Tis true, he pays for your Body; but 'tis not fit he should have your mind: let me but have that—

Celia.

That will not serve your turn.

Bell.

No,—But if I have the Mind once, I am sure the Body is not far off, which would be ne'r the worse for Sir Nicholas should I leave it, which I never would—

Celia.

Shall it ever be said that I am false to my Keeper?—

Bell.

No, it shall never be told; and if it were, hee'd ne'r believe it, who is so conceited of himself, that he thinks you love him.

Celia.

We of our Profession must be as careful of our Credit as Merchants and Bankers should be; if we break with one, we shall ne'r be trusted by another.

Bell.

Care to conceal is good; but barren Truth is good for no∣thing: The falsest Women like the greatest Knaves, thrive most.

Wild.

I should love at another rate than your Friend Swash; I should not leave you for the love of Bottles and the Company of Bullies, to roar, and scowr, and break Windows.

Chlo.

Indeed he is a little too wild, but he has the prettiest merry humours with him—

Wild.

I desire but to visit you, while Drink makes him unfit for you; I am sure you do not love him.

Chlo.

No, why he's the prettiest wittiest wild Gentleman about the Town: He says the Wits love him dearly.

Bell.

All Love is in equality. I am sure you cannot love him whom you keep under like a Spaniel.

Celia.

Indeed I keep him in Discipline; do not Fathers love their Children, yet keep 'em at a distance.

Enter Sir Christopher Swash, Blunderbus, and Heildebrand.

Sir Christ. and Bullie•…•… Sing.

LEt's Drink, let's Drink all Day and Night Give each a lusty Bowl: This is the ravishing Delight Of ev'ry Thirsty Soul; Let others soak all Night in Beds And live but half their time, The Wine that's always in our Heads Shall still preserve us in ou•…•… prime, Shall still, &c.

Sir Christ.

The Devil take me Blunderbus and Heild•…•…brand, if we be nt very mad Fellows.

Celia▪

This is Sir Christopher Swash, and his two Bullies.

Blund.

Ounds! what Prigg is yon talking with your Natural—

Heild.

Shall I pluck out Porker, and lay him on thick?

Sir Chr.

No, he's my friend, an honest fellow, and as mad a fellow as the best of us. Honest Wildman Oylie, how dost thou do? How dost Prigg Bellamy? Gad we have had a rare Night on't, we have roar'd, and sung and ranted; kick't all Males, kiss'd all Females, swing'd Constables and Watches, trounced Bailiffs, broke Windows and stormed Bawdy-houses, and committed other outrages to the confusion of much people—

Celia.

Oh, fie my Dear; why wouldst thou venture thy Person, when thou know'st how I love thee? get thee gon, Thou art such a wild thing.

Sir Chr.

Peace, my Buttock, no harm done; we have not been in Bed these four and twenty hours.

Let others soak all Night in Beds, &c.

[Sings.

And live but half their time, &c.

On my Conscience and Soul we broke Fourscore pounds worth of Windows.

Bell.

Is not this a pretty Gentleman to be in Love with?

Sir Chr.

Pray, know my Friends, Blunderbus and Heildebrand: They are as honest fellows as e'r drank Beer-glass, and as brave as ever stood Cannon-bullet—But where's Sir Humphrey? hey—hey—

The Wine that's always in our Heads Shall still preserve us in our prime.

Am not I a very mad fellow, Ha, Sir Humphrey—Hey boys! let▪ me kiss thee, Oyl•…•…e—

Enter Sir Humphrey, Phillis, and Steward.

Sir Humph.

Sir Christopher Swash, your Servant.

Sir Chr.

Let me present these Gentlemen to you they are of good Families; Their Name Blunderbus and Heildebrand.

Sir Humph.

They are great Names indeed; but they are something negligently dress'd—

Sir Chr.

That's all one, they are as brave as Lightning; and will kick •…•…ailiffs like Thunder, and faith they'l scowr and roar like Can∣non. They are the best Company in the world, and are my Life∣guard against Bailiffs.

Sir Humph.

They look dreadfully—

Sir Chr.

Dreadfully! so they do; why each of 'em has kill'd his man. But as they are very brave, so they are very ingenious, and rare Company—Here's Heildebrand has a number of the purest Bawdy Songs, and will Sing and Play a thorow▪ base with his fingers rubbing too and fro upon a Table thus, most incomparably; and then Blun∣derbus will hoop, hollow, and hunt over a Bottle with any man in Eu∣rope, and they are the bravest Catch-singers both of 'em—

Blund.

Nay, gad Sir Nicholas, you make me blush.

Heild.

Upon my honour, you Compliment!

Sir Chr.

Because they say so now, you shall hear 'em sing—a Boat, a Boat.

Blund.

Come on.

Heild.

To please you—

A Boat, a Boat, haste to the Ferry, &c.

[They Sing.

Sir Chr.

Are not we mad Fellows? Faith we can be merry and we set on't; we have roar'd and scowr'd, and kept Covent-garden wak∣ing all last Night.

Blund.

On my Conscience we beat Threescore people.

Sir Chr.

Ay, Fourscore, Men, Women, and Children—ha, was not that well?

Sir Humph.

Oh very well! Hark you Gentlemen, a Design comes into my Head of carrying this roaring Company, the Women and the Fiddles to that wretch Gripe's House—

Bell.

That will be very well—'Twill fright him out of his Wits, and perhaps free his Wife into the Bargain—

Blund.

Whose Caravan is that other which yon spruce Prigg talks with—

Sir Chr.

A Coxcomb's, one Sir Nicholas Peak-goose.—

Heild.

Does yon fellow manage her?

Sir Chr.

No, she's kept I tell you: Do you think a Woman that's kept would lye with another?

Phill.

We shall certainly have very good sport.

Sir Humph.

'Tis resolv'd, Sir Christopher—we have resolv'd that all this Company, and my Fiddles, shall forthwith go to the wretch Gripe's House, and Rant and Sing, Dance and Roar, and play pranks there—

Sir Chr.

Hey Boys! Hey! a most admirable Design—Wee'l tear the ground, and roar, and make more noise than a Sea-Fight.

Good store of brisk Claret supplies, &c. And the Man that is Drunk is as great as a King.

Sir Humph.

Well said, Sir Christopher, d'ye hear Steward, bid all my Coaches be brought to the Gate; and provide a Collation fit for us, as you tender your Ears; and send all my Fiddles and Voices to Gripe's with the Collation—

Sir Chr.

Come! let's march on, Blunderbus and Heildebrand; we will break Windows all the way we go, Kick every Male from a Link-boy to a Lord upwards; Kiss every Female, from the Simpering Lady to the Widemouth Jade that crys Sprats; Swinge Bum-bailiffs excessively, and commit filthy outrage, to the astonishment of the Mobile: Come along.

Good store of good Claret supplies, &c.

[Exeunt Omn•…•…s.

SCENE Gripe's House.

Gripe and Richard.

Gripe.

Where have you been roguing Sirrah, that you did not wait on me home?

Rich.

I stay'd to do a thing I am not us'd to, fill my Belly, enjoy my Friends, and be Merry.

Gripe.

Oh Devil—I think the Rogue stinks of Strong-Beer, foh—▪

Rich.

That's a lye. 'Tis Wine! Cry you mercy Sir, is that a stink? here's Sir Humphrey's good Health—He's a Noble person, will you pledge me, Sir—

Gripe.

Heav'n and Earth! the Impudent Rogue's Drunk—

Rich.

I have Drank and Victual'd at Sir Humphrey's for a Months Famine I am to endure here—I am hung round with Bottles and stuft full of Provision; will you eat a Pullet?

Gripe.

Oh impudent Villain! bring Drunkenness into my House—

Rich.

Ay, or else I ne'r should have found it here—

Gripe.

Audacious Villain! Thou stay'st not in my House—I will turn thee away presently—

Rich.

The best News I have heard these ten days—

Gripe.

Say'st thou so Rogue, no, I will have thee whipt soundly▪ And in the mean time I will beat thee damnably, to tame thy damn'd unrul•…•… Senses. Thou base, filthy Swine—

Rich.

Here's Twelve Go-downs more upon Reputation, to Sir Hum∣p•…•…rey's Health—

Gripe.

I'll health you Rogue! take that—I'll mawl your Rogue∣•…•…hip—

Rich.

'Twas base to take advantage of my Drinking. Stand off, I say; for if you strike once more, take notice good Claret has taken away the relation betwixt us, and I shall grow damnably passio∣nate—

Gripe.

Ha! the Rogue may kill me in his Drink, and for ought I know rob me, which is worse. Go, and bid the Maid set on the Pipkin with the black Pudding for your Mistresse's Supper and mine.

Rich.

A Pox on Pipkins—I have brought my Mistress some cram'd Chickens, Westphalia Bacon, Neats Tongues, and some•…•…hing else in my Breeches—I have an honour for my Mistress, and should be loath to see her want.

Gripe.

Thy Back shall be mawl'd for this at Bridewell to Morrow; Rogue, Dog, Son of a Whore: Richard, sell that Wine and Provi∣sion, and I will put the Money out for thee. 'Twill come to a pretty Sum in a year—

Rich.

I scorn Usury: Do you think I'll be curst as you are?

Gripe.

As I am! Rogue—

Rich.

Good words, I say,—for I am in an ill h•…•…mour, and shall be suddenly provoked; but to shew I am in perfect Charity with you, here's to my Mistresse's health, I honour her most immaculately—

Gripe.

Go, go—out, and sleep and be sober—

Rich.

Well, farewel; I'll not keep such base sober Company—

Gripe▪

To morrow shall thy Carcass suffer, and thy Senses be tamed. Here Mally! where art thou? Come we will walk and take the Air, that thou may'st get a Stomach to thy Supper.

Enter Mrs. Gripe▪

Mrs. Gripe.

'Twere well if I could get a good Supper to my Stomach.

Gripe.

I keep a temperate Diet to preserve us. Do not they that fare hardest live longest?

Mrs. Gripe.

I can endure your dissembling no longer. 'Tis for the love of vile Money, and not care of my Health. I have born thy Tyranny too long.

Gripe.

I Save▪ to make thee a rich Widow—I think the Woman begins to be peevi•…•…h. Come, I will kiss thee, and put thee in good •…•…umour, feth I will.

Mrs. Gripe.

Kiss a Death's head! a Coffin! my Mother betray'd me in my Youth to the slavery of thy Age. Thou didst promise to be a Father to me; thou canst not be a Husband, and wilt not be a Fa∣ther—but a cruel Tyrant.

Gripe.

Be not perverse; for by Cock and Bottle, Heav'n forgive me for Swearing—I will give thee Conjugal Chastisement—

Mrs. Gripe.

Sheart! talk no more to me of that, you have worn out all my patience; and I henceforward will be a Tigress to thee.

Gripe.

Audacious!

Mrs. Gripe.

I have a Brother, who comes this Night to Town, he loves me, we were Twins, he'll right me; Thou never saw'st him, but shortly to thy cost thou shalt—His Serjeant spoke to me out at my Prison Window, he is beating up Drums for a supply for Flanders. There is not a fiercer young Officer in the Army: He'll cut thy Throat if thou abusest me so.

Gripe.

Death, is that Hectorly Fellow come, you use to threaten me with? Oh Impudence! my Family is turn'd Topsy-turvy—

Mrs. Gripe.

I will have the same Christian Liberty that others of my quality have, I will visit and be visited—

Gripe.

Visits with a Pox; ay, that way come Messages, Tokens, Letters and Bawding for one another, and the Frolick goes round.

Mrs. Gripe.

I will have Money enough to venture 50 l. in a Night at Ombre.

Gripe.

Ounds 50 l. she makes me tremble!

Mrs. Gripe.

I'll make you know the right of an English Woman before I have done.

Gripe.

Prodigious and amazing! the right of an English Woman to cheat and cuckold her Husband! in into your Chamber! go in, I say!

Mrs. Gripe.

Peace, old Fool. I say not in.

Gripe.

Nay then Correction will ensue▪

Mrs. Gripe.

Yes! that it shall old Tyrant—

He lifts up his Cane, she wrests it out of his hand.

Gripe.

What noise is that?

Enter a Servant of Sir Humphrey Scattergood.

Serv.

Sir, My Master is just entring with a great Train of Gentle∣men and Ladies, and has sent a Collation and Bottles of Wine, that you may not be at Charges.

Gripe.

Confound him and his Train. D'e hear Mrs. go into your Chamber.

Mrs. Gripe.

I will stay to entertain the Ladies.

Gripe.

Ladies! Whores▪ a Plague on 'em all! in, in, or this knife shall be embrued in thy Blood.

Mrs. Gripe.

Help! help! I will not go in.

Enter Sir Humphrey, Sir Christopher, Bellamy, Wildman, Heildebrand and Blunderbus, with Phillis, Celia, Chloris. Servants, Fiddles, &c.

Sir Humph.

What's the matter! at wars with your Wife?

Gripe.

My dear Wife! No—She is not well, she will endanger her health; which is very dear to me.

Mrs. Gripe.

I am well—I shall not endanger my health, nor is it dear to him. Ladies, your humble Servant, I am proud of the honour of this visit.

[Men and Women salute Mrs. Gripe.

Gripe.

Ounds! she can Compliment. Death they kiss too most Lasciviously—

Sir Chr.

How dost thou do, old Boy! we are come to Drink, Sing, Roar, and be merry with thee,

The Kings mo•…•…t faithful Subjects •…•…e In's Service are not Dull, We drink to show our Loyalty And make his Coffers full. Would all his Subjects dr•…•…nk like us, We'd make him richer far, More Powerful and more Prosp'rou•…•…▪ Then all the Eastern Monarchs are, Then all, &c.

Sir Humph.

Madam! I come to endeavour your release, and there∣fore be ready at the first opportunity.

Mrs. Gripe.

You oblige me.

Gripe.

Have you any private business with my Wife?

[Comes▪ betwixt •…•…em.

Sir Chr.

What a Pox, do you interrupt a Gentleman, that's talking to your Wife—hah!

Heild.

He deserves Chastisement, you uncivil old Prigg.

Blund.

If he had offer'd that to me, I would have blow•…•… him into Atoms.

Sir Chr.

Shall I beat him, and kick him damnably, and break his Windows, Sir Humphrey, ha!

Sir Humph.

Not yet! Come Ladies, I have brought my Fiddles. Let's have a Dance in the first place.

Mrs. Gripe.

With all my heart.

Grip•…•….

What will becom•…•… of me! Hell is broke loose. Huswife, remember this.

Sir Humph.

Come Mr. Gripe, will you joyn with us?

Gripe.

No Sir, I thank you Richard; raise the Constable and a strong Watch against these outragious Rascals.

Rich.

Sir, I will not for the world; Sir Humphrey is my Friend, and I love and honour him; and here'•…•… another Rous to his health.

Gripe.

Hell and Confusion! Damn'd Rogue! I'll murder thee.

Rich.

You shall not starve me as long as Sir Humphrey lives, i'gad.

Gripe.

Ounds! She dances, a very damn'd confounded Town∣Jade.

They dance a Country Dance, at the end of which Sir Humphrey leads her out Dancing.

Hell and Devils! what trick's this—oh my Wife, my Wife, come in you Baggage.

[He runs out and pulls her in.

Sir Humph.

Are you mad? 'Tis part of the Dance.

Gripe.

You shall lead her no such Dan•…•…e. Here Huswife, get you into your Chamber.—

Sir Chr.

What do you interrupt the Dan•…•…e? Earthquakes, Inun∣dations, roaring Seas and Thunder, I'll mawl ye.

[Kicks him.

Rich.

There's rare taming of you•…•… Senses for you.

Mrs. Gripe.

Excellent—I'll not take 200 l. for this beating.

Sir Chr.

Break all the Windows—Heildebrand •…•…d Blunderbus—

Mrs. Gripe.

Hold, hold! what do you mean?

Gripe.

Good again, very good.

Sir Chr.

At your Command much may be done, Madam.

Sir Humph.

Sirrah! Fill every one a Brimmer to Mrs. Gripe's health. Give Gripe one.

Sir Chr.

Take it, and drink it to your Ladie's health; or by the Soul of Scanderbeg I will carbonado thy old musty Body.

Gripe.

Pl•…•…gues! and Curses! well, there's no remedy.

Sir Chr.

Down on your Knees all. Strike up Fiddles, an Alarm, Fire all—Hey Boys—

Good store of brisk Claret s•…•…pplies ev'ry t•…•…ing, And the Man, &c.

Am not I a very mad fellow, Sir Humphrey?

Celia.

Did you ever see such an odious old fellow?

Bell.

Women, I see can lye by any na•…•…useous Ras•…•…als, if they'l marry them or keep 'em—I am sure you cannot nor shall not love Sir Nichol•…•…

Wildm.

Prithee! think no more of that Roister.

Chlo.

Really •…•…e's a pretty witty wild Creature.

Gripe.

Gentlemen, what have I done to deserve these Outrages?

Sir Chr.

Done! Damm'e you are a Rogue, and an Usurer, Sirrah!

Phill.

Done! filthy fellow to shut up your Wife against the Law of Nature.

Sir Humph.

We come to oblige you, to visit and be merry with you and your Lady—

Sir Chr.

Hands all around▪ We'll Dan•…•…e ab•…•…ut him, till you run away with his Wife. Play Fiddles—fa, la, la, la, la.

Sir Hum.

Come Madam,—break off—

He breaks off with Mrs. Gripe▪—As he's going off, Gripe creeps under their Legs.

Gripe.

Come back Whoremaster! have I caught you, Strumpet? remember there is Law Sir. Remember that—

Blund.

What does the Scoundrel talk of Law?

Heild.

Beat his Brains out.

[Boy with a Flambeux ready.

Mrs. Gripe.

Now Gentlemen, you must give me leave to say you do not well to triumph o're an old Man. He is my Husband, and I must love him; though he uses me tyrannically, and shuts me up in Prison—

Celia.

How, shut up your Wife!

Chlo.

How, shut up your Wife!

Phill.

How, shut up your Wife!

Celia.

Oh thou old Do•…•…rd. Thou shame of Mankind!

Chlo.

Woman was meant to go at large: Thou filthy Creature.

Phill.

Shall Woman, that's wild by Nature, be tam'd by thee base Fellow?

Sir Humph.

He invades the right of Whoremasters, and 'tis not to be born; we have the right of Commonage, and he impales.

Gripe.

Heav'n protect me but this once, I seldom trouble it.

Mrs. Gripe.

I am resolv'd to escape, but not in such lewd Compa∣ny. Richard, Do you stand here whatever happens till I come to you, and do as I direct you, and I'll reward you—

Rich.

Any thing; for I love and honour you, and scorn and hat•…•… my Master.

Gripe.

Yet I say, Mally, good Mally go into my Chamber.

Mrs. Gripe.

I perceive their intentions are base—I will my dear, instantly▪ Sir, put out all the Candles, and I'll secure my Escape.

Sir Humph.

With all my heart, Gentlemen, assist me in this Design.

Gripe.

The Candles are out—murder, murder, help, help. I am cuckolded, rob'd, undone. Murder! Villains, Thieves, Murderers,

Whoremasters, Sons o' Whores, Rascals, Strumpets—

[Mrs. Gripe puts a loose Gown on Richard.

Mrs. Gripe.

Where art thou, my Dear? I will go in with thee, I am convinc'd I was in the wrong.

[She puts Rich. hand in Gripe's.

Gripe.

Come my Dear, give me thy hand, my good Dear; I'll mawl thee with a Plague to thee for this—anon—

[Aside. [Gripe leads Rich. into the Chamber for his Wife.

Mrs Gripe.

Now—farewel old Tyrant, and all the rest of ye; if I had escap'd by violence, I had had a hue and cry after me, and been stopt presently—

[Exit Mrs. Gripe.

Heild.

Gad! its dark—have at these Women—Ounds you Son of a Whore.

Kisses Cel. Bell. strikes him, he strikes Blunder.

Blund.

Lightning and Thunder! what Rascal cufft me? have at somebody.

Sir Humph.

What's the Matter! Flamboyes come in.

They draw, Women shriek and get out.

Sir Chr.

I'll stand up against the Wall. Fight on my merry men all—

Gripe.

Oh for some Murder among themselves.

Enter Footmen with Flambeaux:

Sir Humph.

What's the matter here?

Blund.

I was boxt!

Heild.

I was cufft!

Sir Chr.

Come brave Boys: 'twas in the dark, and 'tis no disho∣nour, ne'r mind it.

He that wears a brave Soul, and dares handsomly do, Is a Herauld to himself, and a Godfather too.

Sir Humph.

Some other time let this be examin'd—

Gripe.

Now you'l be gon; She you came for is safe! all your force cannot break open that Dore. There lies your way—

Footm.

He is mistaken, the Lady took one of the Coaches by your order, she said, and is gon—

Sir Humph.

Let's be gon and look after the Ladies.

Blund.

I shall make some smoak.

Heild.

Blood shall ensue—

[Ex. all but Gripe.

Gripe.

I will arrest every man, •…•…nd when I have recovered Dama∣ges, indict 'em for a Riot, poor Fools! This was a lucky adventure, since I have sav'd my Wife. They have left their Banquet and Wine, I will make Money of it. Let me go fasten my Doors.

[Exit.

The End of the Second Act.