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 changes to the Street.

Enter Count Canaile and Abbe.

Can.

I allow all you say: And last Night's Action has not declin'd the Count from my Esteem, more than it raises Valentine.

Abbe.

He'll keep your Daughter more orderly then a Nunnery can: ev'n let him marry her.

Can.

You know, I'm out of my own Power and Choice.

Abbe.

Hang your Choice; you may be asham'd on't.

Can.

Indeed I do repent it; but my word and reputation are engag'd to him.

Abbe.

Is that a man to make a Grandfather?

Can.

No other shall, by Floriante, make me one: And therefore she shall be Religious, and take the Habit in her Sister's room—

Abbe.

What, make a Nun of her, against her Will!

Can.

To cut off all Pretenders; but to prove how I regard your Friend, Charlot you know, inferiour in nothing but her Years, if Valantine likes her, she has my leave, and shall receive his Visits at the Grate: Let him but con∣quer her, he has gain'd me.

Abbe.

Let him get Floriante, and he conquers thee.

Palmer enters in another Disguise.

Ah my little Palmer! You lye as close as a man in a Proclamation; but you are a Pilgrim of Honour, I find—

Palm.

Where I am engag'd, Sir—

Abbe.

Sir Antony can never discover thee.

Turns him about.

Palm.

I warrant I do your business—

Abbe.

And your own business—

Palm.

My own business to be sure, and Sir Antony's too, or I shall loose my Labour.

Abbe.

About it, about it instantly, and prosper, my little Palmer.

Exit Palmer.

Enter Valentine with Sir Antony and Sir Gentle.

Abb.

Valentine! I have some News for you:

Walks off with him.

Sir Ant.

But you amaze me, Sir Gentle—

Sir Gent.

It wou'd amaze one indeed, Sir Antony.

Sir Ant.

'Tis the oddest piece of Roguery and Impudence that I have heard of.

Sir Gent.

Aye, so 'tis, 'tis pretty odd, and impudent indeed.

Sir Ant.

A cheating Gypsie; I warrant she has had her eye upon you, from your first coming to Town.

Sir Gent.

Nay, not unlikely.

Sir Ant.

I began to suspect her my self, she prest me so often to bring you.

Sir Gent.

Ah; if I had known that, Sir Antony!

Sir Ant.

Why, what if you had?

Sir Gent.

Why, I wou'd ha' staid away; but if you had been with me, it had been the better for me.

Sir Ant.

Much at one for that, I believe. But is she gone out of Town, do you say? You shou'd have apprehended her—

Sir Gent.

Pugh, pugh— she's gone from her Lodging, she must not stay long in a place.

Sir Ant.

'Tis very well she's gone—

Sir Gent.

Aye, so it is: and I hope I shall never see her agen.

Exit.

Sir Ant.

I dare swear for him, he speaks his heart.

Enter Palmer to him.

Well Sir— your business with me? If it be grave or wise, keep it for your own use; I never approve discretion in any man, but a Pimp.

Palm.

Sir, you may say what you please, or call me what you please—

Sir Ant.

Nay Sir, I honour you, if you are one.

Palm.

Then I am one, and one employ'd to you.

Sir Ant.

Begin your Employment, that I may go about mine.

Palm.

Why then, Sir, in few words; there's a Lady dying for you—

Sir Ant.

I never visit the Sick, let her die in peace: But don't let a Priest come near her; he'll ask her bawdy Questions, when she has a mind to be serious.

Palm.

She's only dying for you, Sir.

Sir Ant.

Were she living for me, I cou'd say something to her; if she make a Will, as far as the Legacy goes, I may remember her.

Palm.

Your Mirth becomes you, Sir; but the Lady's in very good health, and, in short, only dying in love with you.

Sir Ant.

Short and sweet.

Palm.

And has a mind—

Sir Ant.

I know her mind; and what she has a mind to.

Palm.

You know the World enough, Sir; to excuse a Lady in Love—

Sir Ant.

And absolve her too.

Palm.

Tho' she shou'd have a Husband—

Sir Ant.

For making him a Cuckold—

Palm.

Not to make a practice of it.

Sir Ant.

The oftner the better.

Palm.

Nay indeed; there's a great deal to be said for the poor Women; How can they help or avoid their Inclinations? Men are too blame, who like young Conjurers, prove (Safe in the Circle of a Wedding-Ring)

The Magick Spell of Wedlock upon Love: So, Cuckolds make themselves by marrying.

Sir Ant.

Very Casuistically brought about, Sir. And I am so much of your Opinion, that I think the Lady cannot do her self a better justice, nor me a greater favour, than allow me to wait upon her on such an occasion.

Palm.

That she does in this Billet: And if you think it worth your while to visit her— will do you richer, and greater favours.

Sir Ant.

I am at present engag'd—But in the Evening—

Palm.

The Evening wou'd do well: I am bad to say, her Husband's out of Town, the rest, her Note will best inform you in.

Going.

Sir Ant.

Then this shall be my Guide.

Palm.

I may cheat you out of your Cunning, before I ha' done with you.

Exit.

Sir Ant.

Why, what the Devil am I engaging in agen! I shall draw all the Women in Town upon me, at this rate: Maids, Wives, and Widows, have one Curiosity or another always to be satisfi'd. I have a Reputation among 'em; and if I don't keep it up, by answering their Expectations—I shall fail of mine, in my Frollicks, and be discover'd; and that I have no mind to be yet a while! But how the Devil shall I answer their Expectations—Or this Lady's in particular, who has bespoke me for her Evening Service? If I go, I shall disappoint her more than if I stay away; and I know, good Soul, she wou'd be as much concern'd for me, to find me no Man, as at ano∣ther time she wou'd be for her self, to be found no Maid, if she had a mind to be thought one. O here comes Valentine!

Enter Valentine.

Val.

I wou'd as soon be a Lawyer as a Lover at this rate. Following a Mistress to no purpose, is as bad as trudging a Foot to Westminster for no Fee. Can you corrupt a Nunnery for me, my little Knight!

Sir Ant.

I will do any thing for you—but first you must lend me your Limbs, to carry on a Design—

Val.

Do what you please with me.

Exeunt.

Palmer Re-enter with the Abbe.

Abb.

Thou art a most incomparable Fellow, Palmer; the Prince of Pimps and Pilgrims! But what! Sir Antony is a young smoaky Rogue I warrant you, he suspected something—

Palm.

Not a bit of suspicion.

Abb.

He might scruple it at first, you know.

Palm.

First nor last, he made no scruple at all! But came into my Net, as fast as I cou'd spread it for him!

Abb.

But came into my Net, as fast as I cou'd spread it for him! Prettily exprest upon the occasion! And I shall love a Setting-dog, as long as I live, for the sake of the Simile.

Palm.

I'm glad it pleases you.

Abb.

Pleases me! Yes, yes; it pleases me! every thing pleases me. But ha! my Boy! he must not get from us, now we have him in the Net.

Palm.

'Tis our fault, if he does.

Abb.

Why Sir Antony has us'd thee but scurvily—

Palm.

To my Cost.

Abb.

And Revenge is very natural—

Palm.

And very sweet.

Abb.

Revenge is sweet indeed; it must be sweet; a sweet Revenge, upon so sweet a Boy: And take my Word; I'll do you that Justice upon him: For I'll tell you, what I intend to do with him—

Palm.

Aye, pray Sir.

Abb.

Why in the first place I intend — not to open my Lips, upon that Subject. But I mean—

Palm.

I hope so, Sir.

Abb.

If I can compass my design, I mean—

Palm.

What do you mean?

Abb.

Not to explain my self, Palmer—Ah Rogue! But you know what I mean.

Exeunt.