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 Street.

Enter Sir Gentle Golding.

Sir Gent.

Why, how a Man may be mistaken in his Friends! I cou'd not ha' believ'd it; (had not one of their underling Rogues told me so himself) that any one cou'd ha' been so cheated, as I have been, by my own Country∣men— If I durst but send any of 'em a Challenge, I might get some of my money agen; but that may draw me into a worse Premunire, then I have yet been in. Let me see; Can't I have a safer Revenge upon 'em? Valen∣tine has stoll'n a Fortune, and entrusted me to bring a Father to marry em; now if I should go wilfully, in a mistake, to the Gentlewoman's own Fa∣ther, for a Licence to marry 'em. The truth on't is, I have a mind to for∣bid the Banes, and get her my self, if I can; for Floriante is a Woman of Quality—

Count Verole in pursuit of her, Enters with his Bravo's.

Ver.

Do you know her, Sir?

Sir Gent.

Yes. Sir, I think I do.

Ver.

Then as you are a Gentleman, assist me; thus far I have News of her.

Sir Gent.

I am a Gentleman, Sir; you shall find me a Gentleman: And I'll tell you more News of her; I'll carry you to the very place, where she

is, Sir; and that's as much as you can expect from a Gentleman, when a Friend is concern'd.

Ver.

It is indeed, Sir, more then I expected; pray along with me.

Ex.

Valentine with Floriante in Sir Antony's, and Sir Antony in her Cloaths.

Val.

So far we are safe, Ladies, and the shifting your Habits will secure us so: Wou'd Sir Gentle wou'd come agen; you're grave at the thought of him!

Flor.

Men of your Conversation and Experience in the World, Valentine, seldom like the Women you marry.

Val.

Because we seldom marry the Women we like.

Flor.

Well, since Marriage at best is a Venture, I had as good make it my self, as let another make it for me, at my Cost.

Val.

To let a Father choose for you in Love, is as unlucky, as when you are in fancy at play, and pushing at a Sum, to desire another to throw out your hand.

Sir Ant.

I'll be hang'd if that fool Sir Gentle has not betray'd us.

looking out.

Val.

Yonder he comes indeed, with a Rabble of Rogues at his heels.

Sir Ant.

There's no resisting 'em; provide for your selves as well as you can.

Exeunt.

I have yet a Trick to cozen 'em.

Exit.

Enter Sir Gentle and Verole, as before.

Ver.

See, see, upon sight of us, they have quitted their Prize: Is this their English Gallantry? They're out of sight already. Let 'em go; the Lady is our Game.

Exit with Followers.

Sir Gent.

I'll make some of 'em know to their Cost, that by using me so little like a Gentleman, they have taught me to do as I do, and use 'em as they deserve.

Verole returns with Sir Antony.

Ver.

Now Floriante, you find you have thrown your self a way, upon a Fellow that has not the spirit to stand by you, or himself, to keep your Folly in countenance.

Sir Ant.

Pray Sir, a word with you—

takes him aside.

Ver.

Well Madam: What can you say to me?

Sir Ant.

Why, I say, you're an Ass to run about to disturb other People: I am Sir Antony Love, not Floriante; don't discover me for your own sake; but get you gone about your business, and leave me to this English man.

Ver.

I'll take his Advice, for fear of being laugh'd at: Sir, you have be∣hav'd your self so like a Man of Honour in this business, that I must desire you to take care of the Lady, while I go to inform her Father of what has happen'd.

Exit Verole, and his Followers.

Sir Gent.

Yes, yes; I'll take care of her, I warrant you. Why, what a lucky Rogue am I! upon my first inclination to play the Knave, to have so good an occasion of doing it.

And indeed, who wou'd take a trust upon him, but for the privledge and be∣nefit of breaking it?—So Madam, now I have you in my Care.

Sir Ant.

You are a civil Gentleman, I know you.

Sir Gent.

You shall know me for a civil Gentleman, if you please; tho I am a Knight, where I am not familiar.

Sir Ant.

I know you are, Sir; you may have pity for me.

Sir Gent.

Alack a day! I have indeed, a heart brim-full for you.

Sir Ant.

You won't force me to marry that Monster?

Sir Gent.

Not I, as I hope to be sav'd, Madam; nothing against fancy.

Sir Ant.

To throw away my Youth, Beauty, and Fortune, which you know are not contemptible.

Sir Gent.

Incomparable, Madam; incomparable; your Youth and Beauty, without your Fortune.

Sir Ant.

Wou'd they were worth your asking.

Sir Gent.

Wou'd I might have 'em for asking.

Sir Ant.

Valantine I despair of; but if there be an Enlish-man, as an Eng∣lish-man he must be—

Sir Gent.

Why, I am an English-man; and wou'd marry you.

Sir Ant.

The sooner you secure me, the better then.

Sir Gent.

I think so too, Madam.

Exeunt.

Canaile, Verole, Abbe, Ilford, Volante, Charlott, Enter.

Abb.

Why here's a Night of Action indeed; Ilford, you began the Dance with Volante; and Count, I hope you'll continue it, with my Niece Charlot: As for Valentine and Floriante, they have had their frisk in a corner by this time, or he is not the Man I take him for.

Verol.

When you fell into my hands to Night; had I known my good For∣tune, I had improv'd it then: But now I have it, in having you—And happier yet, in having your Consent.

Can.

You have my Blessing both—

Valentine and Floriante at the Door.

Abb.

You may appear, we're all of a Family now, Cozen Germans, and Friends— Come here's a Pair that wants your Blessing too.

Can.

I can't deny it now— Rise and be happy.

Abbe.

I have a Blessing too for you, my Girls; Five thousand Crowns a piece more than I design'd you; and a Thousand extraordinary for her who brings me the first Boy; a small Gratuity, Gentlemen, to keep up your Fancy, and encourage your pains, that you mayn't think it unprofitable Labour upon your Wives.

Can.

But why in Sir Antony's Cloaths, Floriante? Where is this mad Knight?

Flor.

Somewhere in my Petticoats: But the Count can give you the best Tidings of him.

Ver.

I left him with one Sir Gentle Golding; one whom you are beholden to; for familiarly, upon the first word, he betray'd you, and carry'd me to seize you.

Val.

Well, I don't doubt but she will give us a handsom Revenge upon him.

Can.

She? Who?

Val.

Sir Antony, Sir; For this Sir Antony after all, is a Woman.

Omnes.

A Woman!

Abbe.

Aye, pox take her, she is a Woman.

Vol.

Then I am free indeed.

Ilf.

And I am happy.

Val.

At leisure I'll tell you all her story.

Ente Sir Gentle with Sir Antony.

Sir Gent.

Now, I am sufficiently reveng'd on Valentine and Sir Antony for

cheating me; I think I have paid 'em in their own Coin: And disappointed the Count too, in marrying Floriante.

Omnes.

Floriante!

Sir Gent.

Come Father-in-Law, this business will out I see; if you'll give us your blessing, so; if not, I shall begin upon your Daughter without saying Grace.

Can.

Much good may do you, Sir, with your Bride.

Val.

Aye, aye; we must all wish you Joy, Sir; You have a Blessing suf∣ficient in a good Wife—

Sir Ant.

If you know when you're well.

Sir Gent.

O deliver me! What do I see!

Val.

Why you see your old Mrs. Lucy, in your new Lady-wife; we are all Witnesses of your owning your marriage.

Sir Gent.

I do not own it— I'll hang like a Dog, drown like a blind Puppy, die and be damn'd, but I'll be divorc'd from her.

Val.

That's your nearest way to Divorce.

Ilf.

And will save the trouble of Doctor's Commons.

Val.

Come, come, I'll put you in a better; There are old Scores between you and Mrs. Lucy— You have made her a Lady indeed, which shews a grateful Nature in you, and will sound well in the Ears of the World. But to support her Quality—

Sir Gent.

Her Qualities will support that.

Val.

Out of your Two thousand pounds a Year, give her a Rent-charge of Five hundred, and she shall never trouble you more, not so much as to be a Godfather to another Man's Child upon her Body, which may otherwise in∣herit your Acres.

Sir Gent.

Why there's the Devil on't agen, to Father another man's Chil∣dren, when one is not so much as a-kin to 'em! Well, any Composition to be rid of her; I find 'tis a Blessing I must pay for.

A Dance.

Val.

Come, come, we must have a Dance to all these Weddings.

Sir Ant.

Thus Coxcombs always the best Husbands prove; When we are faulty, and begin to rove, A sep'rate Maintenance supplies our Love.

Sir Gent.

When we have Mistresses above our Sense, We must redeem our Persons with our Pence.