Sir Antony Love, or, The rambling lady a comedy as it is acted at the Theatre-Royal by Their Majesties servants / written by Tho. Southerne.

SCENE, The Abbe's House.

Pilgrim brought in a Chair: Sir Antony Love after it.

Sir Ant.

Down with your Burthen; and place him in that Chair. So, this is as proper a Scene to recommend our Farce to the Family, as we can have—

Enter Waitwell.

Wait.

Sir Gentle Golding is below, and wou'd speak with you.

Sir Ant.

One of you bring him up—

To the Chairmen, who go out.

Governour, he must not know you belong to me.

Wait.

I know your Design upon him; and I'll be gone to put things in Order to receive him—

Sir Ant.

To receive Valentine: He shall be welcome to me; but to deceive Sir Gentle.

Wait.

You are as busie 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Projector, some of your Plots must miscarry,

Sir Ant.

Ha! he begins to stir: How long will the Opiate hold him?

Wait.

If he wakes before the Company comes, you lose your pleasure of laughing at him.

Sir Ant.

But I have a sudden Though, may give us a better Diversion.

Exit Waitwell.

Enter Sir Gentle Golding.

Sir Gent.

Sir Antony, your most incomparable humble Servant.

Sir Ant.

Sir Gentle, I've done your Business.

Sir Gent.

With the Lady you promis'd me?

Sir Ant.

With that very Lady; I've secur'd an Appointment for you; but being a Woman of Quality—

Sir Gent.

There you oblige me for ever.

Sir Ant.

Tho' something decay'd, and fall'n in her Fortune— She must be humour'd in little things; she will have her Forms.

Sir Gent.

I warrant her; and very fit she shou'd. A Person of Quality is known by her Forms.

Sir Ant.

They last but till the Evening, then I'll carry you to wait on her. Shews the Pilgrim.] Here's a drunken Pilgrim will afford you Merriment e∣nough to entertain some part of the time.

Sir Gent.

Dead drunk, as I intend to live sober.

Sir Ant.

Do me the favour to stay; and secure him, if he shou'd wake. I'll but bring the Abbe and his Family to share in abusing him, and be with you again.

Exit.

Sir Gent.

Why what an Unlucky, Hypocritical Rogue is this, to be disco∣ver'd,

and to lye at the mercy of Sir Antony! If he were but half as Holy, as he pretended, he might 'scape by Miracle; but he sleeps so sound, no Revela∣tion can Wake him.

Pilg.

Boy, Draw the Curtain, Sirrah—

Turns in his Chair, and makes Signs of waking.

Sir Gent.

Is the Light in your Eyes, Sir? What pains he takes to come to himself! Gad, I'll play the Rogue with him—I'll be the Midwife to his Labour—Stay, let me see, a stiff Straw wou'd do rarely, to probe his So∣briety. If his Brain be touch't, he'll take up the more time in his Cure, and 'tis well if ever he be his own Man again. Now for the Experiment.

Tickling his Nose, the Pilgrim jumps up, and throws Sir Gentle along, and in his thoughtfulness stum∣bles over him: both amaz'd, raise themselves up∣on their bottoms, and stare at each other.

Pilg.

Ha! Am I alive? Where have I been? Where am I now? How came I here? Who are you? What wou'd you have?

Sir Gent.

Have! My self in a Wish to England. Wou'd I were in my Mothers Belly again.

Pilg.

Speak, I conjure you, speak to me.

Sir Gent.

He's as heartily frightned, as I can be; I'll pluck up a Spirit, and speak to him.

Pilg.

Some ill thing has possess'd me.

Sir Gent.

Yes, possess'd thou art, by the lowd Spirit of powerful Wine possess'd. A drunken Devil.

Pilg.

A Bottle, and Sir Antony I remember, and the Discoveries I made him.

Both rise.

Sir Gent.

You are discovered, and in the Abbe's House—

Pilg.

In the Abbe's House!

Sir Gent.

Where now your business is to be laugh'd at, and expos'd; and the whole Family are coming to make your Holiness a Ridiculous Visit to that purpose.

Pilg.

That young Rogue Sir Antony! Has he done nothing else to me?

[Examining his Pockets.]

Undone, undone! I'm robb'd, and ruin'd: My Jewels gone! my Table-book gone too! That may do me more harm, than the Jewels can do any Body good.

Sir Gent.

Have you lost your Learning? How cou'd you miss it so soon? A Table-book?

Pilg.

Sir, I am robb'd; and I took you very suspiciously about my Pock∣ets; you shall answer the Robbery.

Sir Gent.

Why, do I look like a Pick-pocket? I'd have you to know, I scorn your Words: But that Trick shan't serve your turn—

Pilg.

Serve my turn, Sir—

Offering to go by him.

Sir Gent.

You must not 'scape me so.

Pilg.

Why, Sir, am I your Prisoner? I must not be found here.

Aside.

I have an Inkhorn may frighten him.

Sir Gent.

Look you, Sir, here's the Inside of my Pockets; I have nothing about me, but Bills of Exchange, and this Purse of Elizabeth Broad Gold: You shall search me, if you please.

Pilg.

I have search'd you, and found you, and must go by you too—

Presents an Inkhorn to his Breast.

Sir Gent.

O Lord Sir, I don't hinder you—

Pilg.

No, no, you had not best.

Sir Gent.

Pray take it away: I have a natural Aversion to the smell of Gun-powder—

Tho' 'twill be difficult to get away, for the Servants are order'd to stop you.

Pilg.

How! to stop me!

Sir Gent.

Now he wont offer to go.

Pilg.

The Servants ordered to stop me, do you say?

Sir Gent.

If you be the Pilgrim.

Pilg.

Then I'll be the Pilgrim no longer—

Undresses himself.

Sir Gent.

What will you be then pray?

Pilg.

Ev'n Sir Gentle Golding; I will get off in your Person, since I can't in my own; I must change Out-sides with you—

Begins to undress Sir Gent. Gold.

Sir Gent.

O Lord Sir, there's no Occasion for it: I know nothing of a Design upon you.

Pilg.

That's more than I know.

Sir Gent.

Faith and troth now, what I said, was only to play the Rogue with you.

Pilg.

And what I do, is to play the Fool with you. You must strip Sir.

Sir Gent.

O, but this is carrying the Jest too far.

Pilg.

Look you, you may keep your Worship and Wit for your own wear∣ing; but I must borrow your Cloaths.

Sir Gent.

At any other time, and welcom; I should be pleas'd with the Humour on't; but this is my first day of wearing 'em; besides, there's a Mi∣stress in the Case—

Dresses himself in Sir Gent.'s Cloaths.

Pilg.

As long as you live, prefer a Friend to a Mistress, Sir Gentle; Come Sir, a little of your Assistance.

Sir Gent.

But I am to see her this Evening; and one wou'd be well drest you know, the first time.

Pilg.

If you must see your Mistress, Visit her in Masquerade; 'tis a fashio∣nable way of beginning an Intrigue— and a Pilgrims Habit— is as Fan∣tastical, as you can contrive— to give a Lady a Curiosity— of knowing more of you— And that I know is your Business.

Sir Gent.

That is my Business indeed: But if I lose my time—

Pilg.

Don't make a noise, nor follow me; If you wou'd see her, or little England again, know your Friends, and give thanks Sir—

Exit.

Sir Gent.

What a pass have I bought my self to, by my own Policy! Why must I needs lye my self out of my Cloaths? If I had held my Tongue, or spoke but the Truth, He wou'd ha' gone about his Business, without interrupting mine. Now here I must stay, to be expos'd in his Room; But in a foolisher Figure, than ever the Pilgrim made: He was only disguis'd: But I am stript.

He was drunk indeed; wou'd I were dead Drunk, To cover my Shame, any way; wou'd I had any Disguise. I Gad I'll put on the Pilgrim's— It can't be worse with me— Besides, the respect that is paid to this Cloathing, will at least Carry me safe to my Lodging.

Exit.