Chapter X: Part 10

A good Pretence, however, to beg long Life. How grosly do the Inclinations of the Flesh impose upon the Simplicity of the Spirit! Had this young Fellow but study'd Anatomy, he'd have found the Source of his Passion lay far from his Mistress's Soul. Alas! alas! Had Women no more Charms in their Bodies, than what they have in their Minds, we should see more wise Men in the World, and much fewer Lovers and Poets.

[_Exit._

+ACT+ V.

_Enter ~Euphronia~ and ~Doris~._

_Euph._ Heavens! what is't you make me do, _Doris_? Apply myself to the Man I loath; beg Favours from him I hate; seek a Reprieve from him I abhor; 'tis low, 'tis mean, 'tis base in me.

_Dor._ Why, you hate the Devil as much as you do _Esop_, or within a small Matter, and should you think it a Scandal to pray him to let you alone a Day or two, if he were going to run away with you; ha?

_Euph._ I don't know what I think, nor what I say, nor what I do: But sure thou'rt not my Friend thus to advise me.

_Dor._ I advise! I advise nothing; e'en follow your own way; marry him, and make much of him. I have a mind to see some of his Breed; if you like it, I like it: He shan't breed out of me only; that's all I have to take Care of.

_Euph._ Pr'ythee don't distract me.

_Dor._ Why, to-morrow's the Day, fix'd and firm, you know it; much Meat, little Order, great many Relations, few Friends, Horse-play, Noise, and bawdy Stories; all's ready for a complete Wedding.

_Euph._ Oh! what shall I do?

_Dor._ Nay, I know this makes you tremble; and yet your tender Conscience scruples to drop one hypocritical Curtsy, and say, Pray, Mr. _Esop_, be so kind to defer it a few Days longer.

_Euph._ Thou know'st I cannot dissemble.

_Dor._ I know you can dissemble well enough, when you shou'd not do't. Do you remember how you us'd to plague your poor _Oronces_; make him believe you loath'd him, when you cou'd have kiss'd the Ground he went on; affront him in all publick Places; ridicule him in all Company; abuse him wherever you went And when you had reduc'd him within an Ace of hanging or drowning, then come home with Tears in your Eyes, and cry, Now, _Doris_, let's go lock ourselves up, and talk of my dear _Oronces_: Is not this true?

_Euph._ Yes, yes, yes. But, pr'ythee, have some Compassion of me. Come, I'll do any thing thou bid'st me----What shall I say to this Monster? Tell me, and I'll obey thee.

_Dor._ Nay, then there's some hopes of you. Why, you must tell him----'Tis natural to you to dislike Folks at first sight: That since you have consider'd him better, you find your Aversion abated: That tho' perhaps it may be a hard Matter for you ever to think him a Beau, you don't despair, in Time, of finding out his _Je-ne-sçai-quoy_. And that on t'other side, tho' you have hitherto thought (as most young Women do) that nothing cou'd remove your first Affection, yet you have very great Hopes in the natural Inconstancy of your Sex. Tell him, 'tis not impossible, a Change may happen, provided he gives you Time: But that if he goes to force you, there's another Piece of Nature peculiar to Women, which may chance to spoil all, and that's Contradiction. Ring that Argument well in his Ears: He's a Philosopher; he knows it has Weight in it. In short, wheedle, whine, flatter, lye, weep, spare nothing; 'tis a moist Age, Women have Tears enow; and when you have melted him down, and gain'd more Time, we'll employ it in Closet-debates, how to cheat him to the end of the Chapter.

_Euph._ But you don't consider, _Doris_, that by this Means I engage myself to him; and can't afterwards with Honour retreat.

_Dor._ Madam, I know the World--Honour's a Jest, when Jilting's useful. Besides, he that wou'd have you break your Oath with _Oronces_, can never have the Impudence to blame you, for cracking your Word with himself. But who knows what may happen between the Cup and the Lip? Let either of the old Gentlemen die, and we ride triumphant. Wou'd I could but see the Statesman sick a little, I'd recommend a Doctor to him, a Cousin of mine, a Man of Conscience, a wise Physician; tip but the Wink, he understands you.

_Euph._ Thou wicked Wench, wou'd'st poison him?

_Dor._ I don't know what I wou'd do; I think, I study, I invent, and somehow I will get rid of him. I do more for you, I'm sure, than you and your Knight-Errant do together for yourselves.

_Euph._ Alas, both he and I do all we can; thou know'st we do.

_Dor._ Nay, I know y' are willing enough to get together; but y' are a couple of helpless Things, Heaven knows.

_Euph._ Our Stars, thou see'st, are bent to Opposition.

_Dor._ Stars!--I'd fain see the Stars hinder me from running away with a Man I lik'd.

_Euph._ Ay, but thou know'st, should I disoblige my Father, he'd give my Portion to my younger Sister.

_Dor._ Ay, there the Shoe pinches, there's the Love of the Age! Ah!----to what an Ebb of Passion are Lovers sunk in these Days! Give me a Woman that runs away with a Man, when his whole Estate's pack'd up in his Knap-sack: That tucks up her Coats to her Knees; and thro' thick and thro' thin, from Quarters to Camp, trudges heartily on; with a Child at her Back, another in her Arms, and a Brace in her Belly: There's Flame with a Witness, where this is the Effects on't. But we must have Love in a Feather-bed: Forsooth, a Coach and six Horses, clean Linen, and Cawdle! Fie for shame. O ho! here comes our Man. Now shew yourself a Woman, if you are one.

_Enter ~Esop~._

_Esop._ I'm told, fair Virgin, you desire to speak with me. Lovers are apt to flatter themselves; I take your Message for a Favour. I hope 'twas meant so.

_Euph._ Favours from Women are so cheap of late, Men may expect 'em truly, without Vanity.

_Esop._ If the Women are so liberal, I think the Men are generous too, on their Side: 'Tis a well-bred Age; thank Heaven; and a deal of Civility there passes between the two Sexes. What Service is't that I can do you, Lady?

_Euph._ Sir, I have a small Favour to intreat you.

_Esop._ What is't? I don't believe I shall refuse you.

_Euph._ What if you shou'd promise me you won't?

_Esop._ Why then I shou'd make a Divorce between my Good-breeding and my Sense, which ought to be as sacred a Knot as that of Wedlock.

_Euph._ Dare you not trust then, Sir, the Thing you love?

_Esop._ Not when the Thing I love don't love me: Never.

_Dor._ Trust is sometimes the Way to be belov'd.

_Esop._ Ay, but 'tis oftener the way to be cheated.

_Euph._ Pray promise me you'll grant my Suit.

_Dor._ 'Tis a reasonable one, I'll give you my word for't.

_Esop._ If it be so, I do promise to grant it.

_Dor._ That's still leaving yourself Judge.

_Esop._ Why, who's more concern'd in the Trial?

_Dor._ But no Body ought to be Judge in their own Cause.

_Esop._ Yet he that is so, is sure to have no wrong done him.

_Dor._ But if he does wrong to others, that's worse.

_Esop._ Worse for them, but not for him.

_Dor._ True Politician, by my troth!

_Esop._ Men must be so, when they have to do with Sharpers.

_Euph._ If I shou'd tell you then there were a Possibility I might be brought to love you, you'd scarce believe me.

_Esop._ I shou'd hope as a Lover, and suspect as a Statesman.

_Dor._ [_Aside._] Love and Wisdom! There's the Passion of the Age again.

_Euph._ You have liv'd long, Sir, and observ'd much: Did you never see Time produce strange Changes?

_Esop._ Amongst Women, I must confess I have.

_Euph._ Why, I'm a Woman, Sir.

_Esop._ Why, truly, that gives me some Hopes.

_Euph._ I'll encrease 'em, Sir; I have already been in Love two Years.

_Dor._ And Time, you know, wears all things to tatters.

_Esop._ Well observ'd.

_Euph._ What, if you shou'd allow me some, to try what I can do?

_Esop._ Why, truly, I would have Patience a Day or two, if there was as much Probability of my being your new Gallant, as perhaps there may be of changing your old one.

_Dor._ She shall give you fair Play for't, Sir; Opportunity and Leave to prattle, and that's what carries most Women in our Days. Nay, she shall do more for you: You shall play with her Fan; squeeze her little Finger; buckle her Shoe; read a Romance to her in the Arbour; and saunter in the Woods on a Moonshiny Night. If this don't melt her, she's no Woman, or you're no Man----

_Esop._ I'm not a Man to melt a Woman that Way: I know myself, and know what they require. 'Tis thro' a Woman's Eye you pierce her Heart; and I've no Darts can make their Entrance there.

_Dor._ You are a great Statesman, Sir; but I find you know little of our Matters. A Woman's Heart is to be enter'd forty Ways. Every Sense she has about her keeps a Door to it. With a Smock-face, and a Feather, you get in at her Eyes. With powerful Nonsense, in soft Words, you creep in at her Ears. An essenc'd Peruke, and a sweet Handkerchief, lets you in at her Nose. With a Treat, and a Box full of Sweetmeats, you slip in at her Mouth: And if you wou'd enter by her Sense of Feeling, 'tis as beaten a Road as the rest. What think you now, Sir? _There are more Ways to the Wood than one_, you see.

_Esop._ Why, you're an admirable Pilot; I don't doubt but you have steer'd many a Ship safe to Harbour: But I'm an old stubborn Seaman; I must sail by my own Compass still.

_Euph._ And by your Obstinacy lose your Vessel.

_Esop._ No: I'm just ent'ring into Port; we'll be married to-morrow.

_Euph._ For Heaven's sake defer it some Days longer; I cannot love you yet; indeed, I cannot.

_Esop._ Nor never will, I dare swear.

_Euph._ Why then will you marry me?

_Esop._ Because I love you.

_Euph._ If you lov'd me, you wou'd never make me miserable.

_Esop._ Not if I lov'd you for your sake; but I love you for my own.

_Dor._ [_Aside._] There's an old Rogue for you.

_Euph._ [_Weeping._] Is there no way left? must I be wretched?

_Esop._ 'Tis but resolving to be pleas'd. You can't imagine the Strength of Resolution. I have seen a Woman resolve to be in the Wrong all the Days of her Life; and by the help of her Resolution, she has kept her Word to a Tittle.

_Euph._ Methinks the Subject we're upon shou'd be of Weight enough to make you serious.

_Esop._ Right: To-morrow Morning pray be ready; you'll find me so: I'm serious. Now I hope you are pleas'd.

[_Turning away from her._

_Euph._ [_Going off weeping, and leaning upon ~Doris~._] Break, Heart! for if than hold'st, I'm miserable.

_Dor._ [_To ~Esop~._] Now may the Extravagance of a lewd Wife, with the Insolence of a virtuous one, join hand in hand to bring thy grey Hairs to the Grave.

[_Exeunt ~Euphronia~ and ~Doris~._

_Esop._ My old Friend wishes me well to the last, I see.

_Enter ~Learchus~ hastily, follow'd by ~Oronces~._

_Oron._ Pray hear me, Sir.

_Lear._ 'Tis in vain; I'm resolv'd, I tell you. Most noble _Esop_, since you are pleas'd to accept of my poor Offspring for your Consort, be so charitable to my old Age, to deliver me from the Impertinence of Youth, by making her your Wife this Instant; for there's a Plot against my Life; they have resolv'd to teaze me to Death to-night, that they may break the Match to-morrow Morning. Marry her this instant, I intreat you.

_Esop._ This instant, say you!

_Lear._ This instant; this very instant.

_Esop._ 'Tis enough; get all things ready; I'll be with you in a Moment.

[_Exit ~Esop~._

_Lear._ Now, what say you, Mr. _Flame-fire_? I shall have the Whip-hand of you presently.

_Oron._ Defer it till to-morrow, Sir.

_Lear._ That you may run away with her to-night; ha?----Sir, your most obedient humble Servant. Hey, who waits there? Call my Daughter to me: Quick. I'll give her her Dispatches presently.

_Enter ~Euphronia~._

_Euph._ D'ye call, Sir.

_Lear._ Yes, I do, Minx. Go shift yourself, and put on your best Clothes. You are to be marry'd.

_Euph._ Marry'd, Sir!

_Lear._ Yes, marry'd, Madam; and that this Instant too.

_Euph._ Dear Sir----

_Lear._ Not a Word: Obedience and a clean Smock; dispatch.

[_Exit ~Euphronia~ weeping._

_~Learchus~ going off, turns to ~Oronces~._] Sir, your most obedient humble Servant.

_Oron._ Yet hear what I've to say.

_Lear._ And what have you to say, Sir?

_Oron._ Alas! I know not what I have to say!

_Lear._ Very like so. That's a sure Sign he's in love now.

_Oron._ Have you no Bowels?

_Lear._ Ha, ha! Bowels in a Parent! Here's a young Fellow for you. Hark thee, Stripling; being in a very merry Humour, I don't care if I discover some paternal Secrets to thee. Know then, that how humoursome, how whimsical soever we may appear, there's one fixt Principle that runs thro' almost the whole Race of us; and that's to please ourselves. Why do'st think I got my Daughter? Why, there was something in't that pleased me. Why dost think I marry my Daughter? Why to please myself still. And what is't that pleases me? Why, my Interest; what do'st think it shou'd be? If _Esop_'s my Son-in-Law, he'll make me a Lord: If thou art my Son-in-Law----thou'lt make me a Grandfather. Now I having more Mind to be a Lord than a Grandfather, give my Daughter to him, and not to thee.

_Oron._ Then shall her Happiness weigh nothing with you?

_Lear._ Not this.--If it did, I'd give her to thee, and not to him.

_Oron._ Do you think forc'd Marriage the Way to keep Women virtuous?

_Lear._ No; nor I don't Care whether Women are virtuous or not.

_Oron._ You know your Daughter loves me?

_Lear._ I do so.

_Oron._ What, if the Children that _Esop_ may happen to father, shou'd chance to be begot by me?

_Lear._ Why, then _Esop_ wou'd be the Cuckold, not I.

_Oron._ Is that all your Care?

_Lear._ Yes: I speak as a Father.

_Oron._ What think you of your Child's Concern in t'other World?

_Lear._ Why, I think it my Child's Concern, not mine. I speak as a Father.

_Oron._ Do you remember you once gave me your Consent to wed your Daughter?

_Lear._ I did.

_Oron._ Why did you so?

_Lear._ Because you were the best Match that offer'd at that Time. I did like a Father.

_Oron._ Why then, Sir, I'll do like a Lover. I'll make you keep your Word, or cut your Throat.

_Lear._ Who waits there, ha?

_Enter Servants._

_Lear._ Seize me that Bully there. Carry him to Prison, and keep him safe.

[_They seize him._

_Oron._ Why, you won't use me thus?

_Lear._ Yes, but I will tho': Away with him. Sir, your most humble Servant: I wish you a good Night's Rest; and as far as a merry Dream goes, my Daughter's at your Service.

_Oron._ Death and Furies!

[_Exeunt Serv. with ~Oron~._

Lear. [singing.] _Dol, de tol dol, dol, de tol dol, Lilly Burleighre's lodg'd in a Bough._

_Enter a Troop of Musicians, Dancers, ~&c.~_

_Lear._ How now! What have we got here?

_Mus._ Sir, we are a Troop of trifling Fellows, Fiddlers and Dancers, come to celebrate the Wedding of your fair Daughter, if your Honour pleases to give us Leave.

_Lear._ With all my Heart: But who do you take me for, Sir; ha?

_1 Mus._ I take your Honour for our noble Governor of _Sysicus_.

_Lear._ Governor of _Sysicus_! Governor of a Cheese-Cake! I'm Father-in-Law to the great _Esop_, Sirrah. [_All bow to him._] [_Aside._]----I shall be a great Man. Come, tune your Fiddles; shake your Legs; get all things ready. My Son-in-Law will be here presently----I shall be a great Man!

[_Exit._

_1 Mus._ A great Marriage, Brother! What do'st think will be the End on't?

_2 Mus._ Why, I believe we shall see three Turns upon't. This old Fellow here will turn Fool; his Daughter will turn Strumpet; and his Son-in-Law will turn 'em both out of Doors. But that's nothing to thee nor me, so long as we are paid for our Fiddling. So tune away, Gentlemen.

_1 Mus._ D'ye hear, Trumpets? When the Bride appears, salute her with a melancholy Waft. 'Twill suit her Humour; for I guess she mayn't be over-well pleas'd.

_Enter ~Learchus~ with several Friends, and a Priest._

_Lear._ Gentlemen and Friends, y'are all welcome. I have sent to as many of you as our short Time wou'd give me Leave, to desire you wou'd be Witnesses of the Honour the great _Esop_ designs ourself and Family. Hey; who attends there? Go let my Daughter know I wait for her. [_Exit Servant._] 'Tis a vast Honour that is done me, Gentlemen!

_2 Gent._ It is, indeed, my Lord.

_Lear._ [_Aside._] Look you there; if they don't call me my Lord already----I shall be a great Man!

_Enter ~Euphronia~ weeping, and leaning upon ~Doris~, both
in deep Mourning._

_Lear._ How now! What's here! All in deep Mourning! Here's a provoking Baggage for you!

[_The Trumpets sound a melancholy Air till ~Esop~ appears;
and then the Violins and Hautboys strike up a ~Lancashire~
Hornpipe._

_Enter ~Esop~ in a gay foppish Dress, Long Peruke, &c. a
gaudy Equipage of Pages and Footmen, all enter in an
airy brisk Manner._

_Esop._ _in an affected Tone to ~Euphronia~._] Gad take my Soul, Ma'am, I hope I shall please you now----Gentlemen all, I'm your humble Servant. I'm going to be a very happy Man, you see. [_To ~Euph~._] When the Heat of the Ceremony's over, if your Ladyship pleases, Ma'am, I'll wait upon you to take the Air in the Park. Hey, Page; let there be a Coach and six Horses ready instantly. [_Observing her Dress._]----I vow to Gad, Ma'am, I was so taken up with my good Fortune, I did not observe the extreme Fancy of your Ladyship's Wedding-Clothes----Infinitely pretty! as I hope to be sav'd; a World of Variety, and not at all gaudy.----[_To ~Lear~._] My dear Father-in-Law, embrace me.

_Lear._ Your Lordship does me too much Honour. [_Aside._]----I shall be a great Man!

_Esop._ Come, Gentlemen, are all things ready? Where's the Priest?

_Priest._ Here, my noble Lord.

_Esop._ Most Reverend----will you please to say Grace that I may fall to, for I am very hungry, and here's very good Meat. But where's my Rival all this while? The least we can do, is to invite him to the Wedding.

_Lear._ My Lord, he's in Prison.

_Esop._ In Prison! How so?

_Lear._ He wou'd have murder'd me.

_Esop._ A bloody Fellow! But let's see him, however. Send for him quickly. Ha! Governor----that handsome Daughter of yours, I will so mumble her----

_Lear._ I shall be a great Man!

_Enter ~Oronces~ pinion'd and guarded._

_Esop._ O ho, here's my Rival! Then we have all we want. Advance, Sir, if you please. I desire you'll do me the Favour to be a Witness to my Marriage, lest one of these Days you shou'd take a fancy to dispute my Wife with me.

_Oron._ Do you then send for me to insult me? 'Tis base in you.

_Esop._ I have no Time now to throw away upon Points of Generosity; I have hotter Work upon my Hands. Come, Priest, advance.

_Lear._ Pray, hold him fast there; he has the Devil and all of Mischief in's Eye.

_Esop._ [_To ~Euph~._] Will your Ladyship please, Ma'am, to give me your fair Hand----Hey-dey!

[_She refuses her Hand._

_Lear._ I'll give it you, my noble Lord, if she won't. [_Aside._] A stubborn, self-will'd, stiff-neck'd Strumpet.

[_~Learchus~ holds out her Hand to ~Esop~, who takes it;
~Oronces~ stands on ~Esop~'s left Hand, and the Priest
before 'em._

_Esop._ Let my Rival stand next me: Of all Men, I'd have him be satisfy'd.

_Oron._ Barbarous, inhuman Monster!

_Esop._ Now, Priest, do thy Office.

[_Flourish with the Trumpets._

_Priest._ Since the eternal Laws of Fate decreed,
That he thy Husband, she thy Wife shou'd be,
May Heaven take you to its Care,
May _Jupiter_ look kindly down, }
Place on your Heads Contentment's Crown! }
And may his Godhead never frown }
Upon this happy Pair.

[_Flourish again of Trumpets._

[_As the Priest pronounces the last Line, ~Esop~ joins ~Oronces~
and ~Euphronia~'s Hands._

_Oron._ O happy Change! Blessings on Blessings wait on the generous _Esop_!

_Esop._ Happy, thrice happy, may you ever be, }
And if you think there's something due to me, }
Pay it in mutual Love and Constancy. }

_Euph._ _to ~Esop~._] You'll pardon me, most generous Man,
If in the present Transports of my Soul,
Which you yourself have by your Bounty caus'd,
My willing Tongue is ty'd from uttering
The Thoughts that flow from a most grateful Heart.

_Esop._ For what I've done, I merit little Thanks,
Since what I've done, my Duty bound me to.
I wou'd your Father had acquitted his:
But he who's such a Tyrant o'er his Children,
To sacrifice their Peace to his Ambition,
Is fit to govern nothing but himself.

_To ~Lear~._] And, therefore, Sir, at my return to Court,
I shall take care this City may be sway'd
By more Humanity than dwells in you.

_Lear. aside._] I shall be a great man!

_Euph. To ~Esop~._] Had I not Reason, from your constant Goodness,
To judge your Bounty, Sir, is infinite,
I shou'd not dare to sue for farther Favours:
But pardon me, if imitating Heaven and you,
I easily forgive my aged Father,
And beg that _Esop_ would forgive him too.

[_Kneeling to him._

_Esop._ The Injury he wou'd have done to you was great indeed: But 'twas a Blessing he design'd for me. If, therefore, you can pardon him, I may. [_To ~Lear~._] Your injur'd Daughter, Sir, has on her Knees intreated for her cruel, barbarous Father; and by her Goodness has obtain'd her Suit. If, in the Remnant of your Days, you can find out some way to recompense her, do it, that Men and Gods may pardon you, as she and I have done. But, let me see, I have one Quarrel still to make up. Where's my old Friend _Doris_?

_Dor._ She's here, Sir, at your Service; and as much your Friend as ever; true to her Principles, and firm to her Mistress. But she has a much better Opinion of you now than she had half an Hour ago.

_Esop._ She has reason: For my Soul appear'd then as deform'd as my Body. But I hope now, one may so far mediate for t'other, that, provided I don't make Love, the Women won't quarrel with me; for they are worse Enemies even than they are Friends. Come, Gentlemen, I'll humour my Dress a little longer, and share with you in the Diversions these boon Companions have prepar'd us. Let's take our Places, and see how they can divert us.

_~Esop~ leads the Bride to her Place. All being seated,
there's a short Concert of Hautboys, Trumpets, &c. After which a
Dance between an old Man and a young Woman, who shuns him still
at he comes near her. At last he stops, and begins this Dialogue,
which they sing together._

Old Man.

_Why so cold, and why so coy?
What I want in Youth and Fire,
I have in Love and in Desire:
To my Arms, my Love, my Joy!
Why so cold, and why so coy?_

Woman.

_'Tis Sympathy, perhaps, with you;
You are cold, and I'm so too._.

Old Man.

_My Years alone have froze my Blood;
Youthful Heat in Female Charms,
Glowing in my aged Arms,
Wou'd melt it down once more into a Flood._

Woman.

_Women, alas, like Flints, ne'er burn alone;
To make a Virgin know
There's Fire within the Stone,
Some manly Steel must boldly strike the Blow._

Old Man.

_Assist me only with your Charms,
You'll find I'm Man, and still am bold;
You'll find I still can strike, tho' old:
I only want your Aid to raise my Arms._

Enter a Youth, who seizes on the young Woman.

Youth.

_Who talks of Charms, who talks of Aid?
I bring an Arm
That wants no Charm,
To rouze the Fire that's in a flinty Maid.
Retire, old Age:
----Winter, begone:
Behold the youthful Spring comes gayly on.
Here, here's a Torch to light a Virgin's Fire!
To my Arms, my Love, my Joy;
When Women have what they desire,
They're neither cold nor coy._

[She takes him in her Arms.

_The Song and Dances ended, ~Esop~ takes ~Euphronia~ and
~Oronces~ by the Hands, leading them forwards._

_Esop._ By this Time, my young eager Couple, 'tis probable you wou'd be glad to be alone; perhaps you'll have a Mind to go to Bed, even without your Supper; for Brides and Bridegrooms eat little on their Wedding-Night. But since, if Matrimony were worn as it ought to be, it wou'd, perhaps, sit easier about us than it usually does, I'll give you one Word of Counsel, and so I shall release you. When one is out of Humour, let the other be dumb. Let your Diversions be such, as both may have a Share in 'em. Never let Familiarity exclude Respect. Be clean in your Clothes, but nicely so in your Persons. Eat at one Table, lie in one Room, but sleep in two Beds: I'll tell the Ladies why:

Turning to the Boxes.

_In the sprightly Month of May, }
When Males and Females sport and play, }
And kiss and toy away the Day; }
An eager Sparrow and his Mate, }
Chirping on a Tree, were sat, }
Full of Love----and full of Prate. }
They talk'd of nothing but their Fires,
Of raging Heats, and strong Desires,
How true and faithful they wou'd be;
Of eternal Constancy;
Of this and that, and endless Joys,
And a thousand more such Toys:
Only Thing they apprehended,
Was that their Lives wou'd be so short,
They cou'd not finish half their Sport
Before their Days were ended.
But as from Bough to Bough they rove,
They chanc'd at last
In furious haste,
On a Twig with Birdlime spread,
(Want of a more downy Bed)
To act a Scene of Love.
Fatal it proved to both their Fires.
For tho' at length they broke away, }
And baulk'd the School-Boy of his Prey, }
Which made him weep the live-long Day, }
The Bridegroom, in the hasty strife,
Was stuck so fast to his dear Wife,
That tho' he us'd his utmost Art,
He quickly found it was in vain,
To put himself to further Pain,
They never more must part.
A gloomy Shade o'ercast his Brow; }
He found himself----I know not how: }
He look'd as Husbands often do. }
Where-e'er he mov'd, he felt her still,
She kiss'd him oft against his Will:
Abroad, at Home, at Bed and Board,
With favours she o'erwhelm'd her Lord.
Oft he turn'd his Head away, }
And seldom had a Word to say, }
Which absolutely spoil'd her Play, }
For she was better stor'd.
Howe'er, at length, her stock was spent,
(For Female Fires sometimes may be
Subject to Mortality;)
So Back to Back they sit, and sullenly repent.
But the mute Scene was quickly ended,
The Lady, for her share, pretended
The Want of Love lay at his Door; }
For her part, she had still in store }
Enough for him and twenty more, }
Which cou'd not be contended.
He answer'd her in homely Words,
(For Sparrows are but ill-bred Birds)
That he already had enjoy'd
So much, that truly he was cloy'd.
Which so provok'd her Spleen,
That after some good hearty Prayers, }
A Jostle, and some spiteful Tears, }
They fell together by the Ears, }
And ne'er were fond again._

_ESOP._

PART II.

_Enter Players._

_Esop._ Well, good People, who are all you?

_Omnes._ Sir, we are Players.

_Esop._ Players! What Players?

_Play._ Why, Sir, we are Stage-Players, that's our Calling: Tho' we play upon other Things too; some of us play upon the Fiddle; some play upon the Flute; we play upon one another; we play upon the Town; and we play upon the Patentees.

_Esop._ Patentees! Pr'ythee, what are they?

_Play._ Why, they are, Sir----Sir, they are----'Cod I don't know what they are----Fish or Flesh----Masters or Servants----Sometimes one----Sometimes t'other, I think----Just as we are in the Mood.

_Esop._ Why, I thought they had a lawful Authority over you.

_Play._ Lawful Authority, Sir!----Sir, we are free-born _Englishmen_, we care not for Law nor Authority neither, when we are out of Humour.

_Esop._ But I think they pretended at least to an Authority over you; pray, upon what Foundation was it built?

_Play._ Upon a rotten one----if you'll believe us. Sir, I'll tell you what the Projectors did: They imbark'd twenty thousand Pound upon a leaky Vessel----She was built at _Whitehall_; I think they call'd her----the Patent----ay, the Patent: Her Keel was made of a Broad Seal----and the King gave 'em a white Staff for their Main-Mast. She was a pretty light Frigate to look upon, indeed: They spar'd nothing to set her off; they gilded her, and painted her, and rigg'd, and gunn'd her: And so sent her a Privateering. But the first Storm that blew, down went the Mast, ashore went the Ship--Crack, says the Keel; Mercy, cry'd the Pilot; but the Wind was so high, his Pray'rs cou'd not be heard--so they split upon a Rock----that lay hid under a Petticoat.

_Esop._ A very sad Story, this! But what became of the Ship's Company?

_Play._ Why, Sir, your humble Servants here, who were the Officers, and the best of the Sailors----(little _Ben_ amongst the rest) seiz'd on a small Bark that lay to our Hand, and away we put to Sea again. To say the truth, we were better mann'd than rigg'd, and Ammunition was plaguy scarce amongst us.----However, a cruising we went, and some petty small Prizes we have made; but the Blessing of Heaven not being among us----or how the Devil 'tis, I cannot tell; but we are not rich.

_Esop._ Well, but what became of the rest of the Crew?

_Play._ Why, Sir, as for the Scoundrels, they, poor Dogs, stuck by the Wreck. The Captain gave them Bread and Cheese, and good Words----He told them, if they wou'd patch her up, and venture t'other Cruise, he'd prefer 'em all; so to work they went, and to Sea they got her.

_Esop._ I hope he kept his Word with 'em.

_Play._ That he did; he made the Boatswain's Mate Lieutenant; he made the Cook Doctor: He was forc'd to be Purser and Pilot, and Gunner himself; and the Swabber took Orders to be Chaplain.

_Esop._ But with such unskilful Officers, I'm afraid, they'll hardly keep above Water long.

_Play._ Why truly, Sir, we care not how soon they are under: But curst Folks thrive, I think. I know nothing else that makes 'em swim. I'm sure, by the Rules of Navigation, they ought to have over-set long since; for they carry a great deal of Sail, and have very little Ballast.

_Esop._ I'm afraid you ruin one another. I fancy if you were all in a Ship together again, you'd have less Work, and more Profit.

_Play._ Ah, Sir----we are resolv'd we'll never sail under Captain Patentee again.

_Esop._ Pr'ythee, why so?

_Play._ Sir, he has us'd us like Dogs.

_Wom._----And Bitches too, Sir.

_Esop._ I'm sorry to hear that; pray, how was't he treated you?

_Play._ Sir, 'tis impossible to tell; he us'd us like the _English_ at _Amboyna_----

_Esop._ But I wou'd know some Particulars: Tell me what 'twas he did to you?

_Play._ What he did, Sir?----Why, he did in the first Place, Sir----In the first Place, Sir, he did----I'cod I don't know what he did----Can you tell, Wife?

_Wom._ Yes, marry can I; and a burning Shame it was too.

_Play._ O, I remember now, Sir, he wou'd not give us Plums enough in our Pudding.

_Esop._ That indeed was very hard; but did he give you as many as he promis'd you?

_Play._ Yes, and more; but what of all that? We had not as many as we had a mind to----

_1 Wom._ Sir, my Husband tells you Truth--

_Esop._ I believe he may; but what other Wrongs did he do you?

_1 Wom._ Why, Sir, he did not treat me with Respect; 'twas not one Day an three he would so much as bid me good-morrow--

_2 Wom._ Sir, he invited me to Dinner, and never drank my Health.

_1 Wom._ Then he cock'd his Hat at Mrs. _Pert_.

_2 Wom._ Yes, and told Mrs. _Slippery_ he had as good a Face as she had.

_Esop._ Why, these were insufferable Abuses--

_2 Play._ Then, Sir, I did but come to him one Day--and tell him I wanted fifty Pound, and what do you think he did by me, Sir?--Sir, he turn'd round upon his Heel like a Top--

_1 Play._ But that was nothing to the Affront he put upon me, Sir. I came to him, and in very civil words, as I thought, desir'd him to double my Pay: Sir, wou'd you believe it? He had the Barbarity to ask me if I intended to double my Work; and because I told him no, Sir--he did use me, good Lord, how he did use me!

_Esop._ Pr'ythee how?

_1 Play._ Why, he walk'd off, and answered me never a Word.

_Esop._ How had you Patience?

_1 Play._ Sir, I had not Patience. I sent him a Challenge; and what do you think his answer was?--He sent me Word I was a scoundrel Son of a Whore, and he wou'd only fight me by Proxy----

_Esop._ Very fine!

_1 Play._ At this rate, Sir, were we poor Dogs us'd--till one frosty Morning down he comes amongst us--and very roundly tells us----That for the future, no Purchase, no Pay. They that wou'd not work, shou'd not eat----Sir, we at first ask'd him coolly and civilly----Why? His answer was, Because the Town wanted Diversion, and he wanted Money----Our Reply to this, Sir, was very short; but I think to the purpose.

_Esop._ What was it?

_1 Play._ It was, Sir, that so we wallow'd in Plenty and Ease----the Town and he might be damn'd----This, Sir, is the true History of our Separation----and we hope you'll stand our Friend----

_Esop._ I'll tell you what, Sirs----

_I once a Pack of Beagles knew----
That much resembled I know who;
With a good Huntsman at their Tail,
In full Command,
With Whip in Hand,
They'd run apace
The chearful Chace,
And of their Game were seldom known to fail.
But being at length their chance to find
A Huntsman of a gentler Kind,
They soon perceiv'd the Rein was slack;
The Word went quickly thro' the Pack----
They one and all cry'd Liberty;
This happy Moment we are free;
We'll range the Woods,
Like Nymphs and Gods,
And spend our Mouths in Praise of Mutiny.
With that, old ~Jowler~ trots away,
And ~Bowman~ singles out his Prey;
~Thunder~ bellow'd thro' the Wood,
And swore he'd burst his Guts with Blood;
~Venus~ tript it o'er the Plain,
With boundless Hopes of boundless Gain;
----~Juno~, she slipt down the Hedge,
But left her sacred Word for Pledge,
That all she pickt up by the by----
Shou'd to the public Treasury;
And well they might rely upon her;
For ~Juno~ was a Bitch of Honour.
In short, they all had Hopes to see
A heavenly Crop of Mutiny.
And so to reaping fell.
But in a little Time they found,
It was the Devil had till'd the Ground,
And brought the Seed from Hell.
The Pack divided, nothing throve:
Discord seiz'd the Throne of Love.
Want and Misery all endure;
All take pains, and all grow poor.
When they had toil'd the live-long Day,
And came at Night to view their Prey,
Oft, alas, so ill they'd sped,
That half went Supperless to Bed.
At length they all in Council sate,
Where at a very fair Debate,
It was agreed at last,
That Slavery with Ease and Plenty,
When Hounds were something turn'd of twenty,
Was much a better Fate,
Than 'twas to work and fast._

_1 Play._ Well, Sir----and what did they do then?

_Esop._ Why they all went home to their Kennel again. If you think they did wisely, you'll do well to follow their Example.

[_Exit ~Esop~._

_1 Play._ Well, Beagles, what think you of the little Gentleman's Advice?

_2 Wom._ I think he's a little ugly Philosopher, and talks like a Fool.

_1 Play._ Ay, why there 'tis now! If he had been a tall Handsome Blockhead, he had talk'd like a wise Man.

_2 Wom._ Why, do you think, Mr. _Jowler_, that we'll ever join again?

_1 Play._ I do think, sweet Mrs. _Juno_, that if we do not join again, you must be a little freer of your Carcase than you are, or you must bring down your Pride to a Serge Petticoat.

_1 Wom._ And do you think, Sir, after the Affronts I have receiv'd, the Patent and I can ever be Friends?

_1 Play._ I do think, Madam, that if my interest had not been more affronted than your Face, the Patent and you had never been Foes.

_1 Wom._ And so, Sir, then you have serious Thoughts of a Reconciliation!

_1 Play._ Madam, I do believe I may.

_1 Wom._ Why then, Sir, give me Leave to tell you, that--make it my Interest, and I'll have serious Thoughts on't too.

_2 Wom._ Nay, if you are thereabouts, I desire to come into the Treaty.

_3 Play._ And I.

_4 Play._ And I.

_1 Play._ And I. No separate Peace. None of your _Turin_ Play, I beseech you.

_1 Play._ Why then, since you are all so Christianly dispos'd----I think we had best adjourn immediately to our Council-Chamber, choose some potent Prince for Mediator and Guarantee----fix upon the Place of Treaty, dispatch our Plenipo's, and whip up the Peace like an Oyster. For, under the Rose, my Confederates, here is such a damn'd Discount upon our Bills, I'm afraid, if we stand it out another Campaign, we must live upon slender Subsistence.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter ~Esop~; and a Country Gentleman, who walks to
and fro, looking angrily upon ~Esop~._

_Esop._ Have you any Business with me, Sir?

_Gent._--I can't tell whether I have or not.

_Esop._ You seem disturb'd, Sir?

_Gent._ I'm always so at the Sight of a Courtier.

_Esop._ Pray what may it be, that gives you so great an Antipathy to 'em?

_Gent._ My Profession.

_Esop._ What's that?

_Gent._ Honesty.

_Esop._ 'Tis an honest Profession. I hope, Sir, for the general Good of Mankind, you are in some public Employment?

_Gent._ So I am, Sir----no Thanks to the Court.

_Esop._ You are then, I suppose, employ'd by----

_Gent._ My Country.

_Esop._ Who have made you----

_Gent._ A Senator.

_Esop._ Sir, I reverence you.

[_Bowing._

_Gent._ Sir, you may reverence as low as you please; but I shall spare none of you. Sir, I am intrusted by my Country with above ten Thousand of their Grievances, and, in order to redress them, my Design is to hang ten thousand Courtiers.

_Esop._ Why, 'tis making short Work, I must confess; but are you sure, Sir, that wou'd do't?

_Gent._ Sure,----Ay, sure.

_Esop._ How do you know?

_Gent._ Why, the whole Country says so, and I at the Head of 'em. Now let me see who dares say the contrary.

_Esop._ Not I, truly. But, Sir, if you won't take it ill, I'll ask you a Question or two.

_Gent._ Sir, I shall take ill what I please. And if you, or e'er a Courtier of you all pretend the contrary, I say, 'tis a Breach of Privilege----Now put your Question, if you think fit.

_Esop._ Why then, Sir, with all due regard to your Character, and your Privilege too, I wou'd be glad to know what you chiefly complain of?

_Gent._ Why, Sir, I do chiefly complain, that we have
A great many Ships, and very little Trade;
A great many Tenants, and very little Money;
A great many Soldiers, and very little fighting;
A great many _Gazettes_, and little good News;
A great many Statesmen, and very little Wisdom;
A great many Parsons, and not an Ounce of Religion.

_Esop._ Why truly, Sir, I do confess these are Grievances very well worth your redressing. And I perceive you are truly sensible of our Diseases, but I'm afraid you are a little out in the Cure.

_Gent._ Sir, I perceive you take me for a Country-Physician: but you shall find, Sir, that a Country-Doctor is able to deal with a Court-Quack; and to shew you that I do understand something of the State of the Body-Politic, I will tell you, Sir, that I have heard a wise Man say, the Court is the Stomach of the Nation, in which, if the Business be not thoroughly digested, the whole Carcase will be in Disorder. Now, Sir, I do find by the Feebleness of the Members, and the Vapours that fly into the Head, that this same Stomach is full of indigestions, which must be remov'd: And therefore, Sir, I am come Post to Town with my Head full of _Crocus Metallorum_, and design to give the Court a Vomit.

_Esop._ Sir, the Physic you mention, tho' necessary sometimes, is of too violent a Nature to be us'd without a great deal of Caution. I'm afraid, you are a little too rash in your Prescriptions. Is it not possible you may be mistaken in the Cause of the Distemper?

_Gent._ Sir, I do not think it possible I shou'd be mistaken in any thing.

_Esop._ Have you been long a Senator?

_Gent._ No, Sir.

_Esop._ Have you been much about Town?

_Gent._ No, Sir.

_Esop._ Have you convers'd much with Men of Business?

_Gent._ No, Sir.

_Esop._ Have you made any serious Enquiry into the present Disorders of the Nation?

_Gent._ No, Sir.

_Esop._ Have you ever heard what the Men now employ'd in Business have to say for themselves?

_Gent._ No, Sir.

_Esop._ How then do you know they deserve to be punish'd for the present Disorders in your Affairs?

_Gent._ I'll tell you how I know.

_Esop._ I would be glad to hear.

_Gent._ Why, I know by this----I know it, I say, by this----that I'm sure on't----And to give you Demonstration that I'm sure on't, there is not one Man in a good Post in the Nation--but I'd give my Vote to hang him: Now I hope you are convinc'd.

_Esop._ As for Example: The first Minister of State, why wou'd you hang him?

_Gent._ Because he gives bad Counsel.

_Esop._ How do you know?

_Gent._ Why, they say so.

_Esop._ And who would you put in his Room?

_Gent._ One that would give better.

_Esop._ Who's that?

_Gent._ Myself.

_Esop._ The Secretary of State, why wou'd you hang him?

_Gent._ Because he has not good Intelligence.

_Esop._ How do you know?

_Gent._ I have heard so.

_Esop._ And who would you put in his Place?

_Gent._ My Father.

_Esop._ The Treasurer, why would you hang him?

_Gent._ Because he does not understand his Business.

_Esop._ How do you know?

_Gent._ I dreamt so.

_Esop._ And who would you have succeed him?

_Gent._ My Uncle.

_Esop._ The Admiral, why would you hang him?

_Gent._ Because he has not destroy'd the Enemies Ships.

_Esop._ How do you know he could do it?

_Gent._ Why, I believe so.

_Esop._ And who would you have command in his Stead?

_Gent._ My Brother.

_Esop._ And the General, why would you hang him?

_Gent._ Because he took ne'er a Town last Campaign.

_Esop._ And how you do know it was in his Power?

_Gent._ Why, I don't care a Souss whether 'twas in his power or not. But I have a Son at home, a brave chopping Lad; he has been Captain in the Militia these twelve Months, and I'd be glad to see him in his Place. What do ye stare for, Sir? Ha! I'gad I tell you he'd scour all to the Devil. He's none of your Fencers, none of your sa-sa Men. _Numps_ is downright, that's his Play. You may see his Courage in his Face: He has a Pair of Cheeks like two Bladders, a Nose as flat as your Hand, and a Forehead like a Bull.

_Esop._ In short, Sir, I find if you and your Family were provided for, Things would soon grow better than they do.

_Gent._ And so they wou'd, Sir. Clap me at the Head of the State, and _Numps_ at the Head of the Army: He with his Club-Musquet, and I with my Club Head-Piece, we'd soon put an End to your Business.

_Esop._ I believe you wou'd indeed. And therefore, since I happen to be acquainted with your extraordinary Abilities, I am resolv'd to give the King an Account of you, and employ my Interest with him, that you and your Son may have the Posts you desire.

_Gent._ Will you, by the Lord?--Give me your Fist, Sir--the only honest Courtier that ever I met with in my Life.

_Esop._ But, Sir, when I have done you this mighty Piece of Service, I shall have a small Request to beg of you, which I hope you won't refuse me.

_Gent._ What's that?

_Esop._ Why, 'tis in behalf of the two Officers who are to be displac'd to make Room for you and your Son.

_Gent._ The Secretary and the General?

_Esop._ The same. 'Tis pity they shou'd be quite out of Business: I must therefore desire you'll let me recommend one of 'em to you for your Bailiff, and t'other for your Huntsman.

_Gent._ My Bailiff and my Huntsman!----Sir, that's not to be granted.

_Esop._ Pray, why?

_Gent._ Why?----Because one wou'd ruin my Land, and t'other wou'd spoil my Fox-Hounds.

_Esop._ Why do you think so?

_Gent._ Why do I think so!----These Courtiers will ask the strangest Questions!----Why, Sir, do you think that Men bred up to the State or the Army, can understand the Business of Ploughing and Hunting?

_Esop._ I did not know but they might.

_Gent._ How cou'd you think so?

_Esop._ Because I see Men bred up to Ploughing and Hunting, understand the Business of the State and the Army.

_Gent._ I'm shot----I ha'n't one Word to say for myself----I never was so caught in my Life.

_Esop._ I perceive, Sir, by your Looks, what I have said has made some Impression upon you; and would, perhaps do more, if you wou'd give it leave. [_Taking his Hand._] Come, Sir, tho' I am a Stranger to you, I can be your Friend; my Favour at Court does not hinder me from being a Lover of my Country. 'Tis my Nature, as well as Principle, to be pleas'd with the Prosperity of Mankind. I wish all Things happy, and my Study is to make them so.

The Distempers of the Government (which I own are great) have employ'd the Stretch of my Understanding, and the deepest of my Thoughts, to penetrate the Cause, and to find out the Remedy. But alas! All the Product of my Study is this, That I find there is too near a Resemblance between the Diseases of the State and those of the Body, for the most expert Minister to become a greater Master in one than the College is in t'other: And how far their Skill extends, you may see by this Lump upon my Back. Allowances in all Professions there must be, since 'tis weak Man that is the weak Professor. Believe me, Senator, for I have seen the Proof on't. The longest Beard amongst us is a Fool. Cou'd you but stand behind the Curtain, and there observe the secret Springs of State, you'd see, in all the Good or Evil that attends it, ten Ounces of Chance for one Grain either of Wisdom or Roguery.

You'd see, perhaps, a venerable Statesman sit fast asleep in a great downy Chair; whilst, in that soft Vacation of his Thought, blind Chance (or what at least we blindly call so) shall so dispose a thousand secret Wheels, that when he awakes, he needs but write his Name, to publish to the World some blest Event, for which his Statue shall be rais'd in Brass.

Perhaps a Moment thence, you shall behold him torturing his Brain; his Thoughts all stretcht upon the Rack for publick Service. The live-long Night, when all the World's at rest, consum'd in Care, and watching for their Safety, then by a Whirlwind in his Fate, in spight of him, some Mischief shall befall 'em, for which a furious Sentence strait shall pass, and they shall vote him to the Scaffold. Even thus uncertain are Rewards and Punishments; and even thus little do the People know, when 'tis the Statesman merits one or t'other.

_Gent._ Now I do believe I am beginning to be a wise Man; for I never till now perceived I was a Fool. But do you then really believe, Sir, our Men in Business do the best they can?

_Esop._ Many of 'em do: Some perhaps do not. But this you may depend upon; he that is out of Business is the worst Judge in the World of him that is in: First, Because he seldom knows any Thing of the Matter: And, Secondly, Because he always desires to get his Place.

_Gent._ And so, Sir, you turn the Tables upon the Plaintiff, and lay the Fool and Knave at his Door.

_Esop._ If I do him wrong, I'm sorry for't. Let him examine himself, he'll find whether I do or not.

[_Exit ~Esop~._

_Gent._----Examine!----I think I have had enough of that already. There's nothing left, that I know of, but to give Sentence: And truly I think, there's no great difficulty in that. A very pretty Fellow I am, indeed! Here am I come bellowing and roaring two hundred Miles Post to find myself an Ass; when, with one Quarter of an Hour's Consideration, I might have made the self-same Discovery, without going over my Threshold. Well! if ever they send me on their Errand to reform the State again, I'll be damn'd. But this I'll do: I'll go home and reform my Family if I can: Them I'm sure I know. There's my Father's a peevish old Coxcomb: There's my Uncle's a drunken old Sot: There's my Brother's a cowardly Bully: Son _Numps_ is a lubberly Whelp: I've a great ramping Daughter, that stares like a Heifer: and a Wife that's a slatternly Sow.

[_Exit._

_Enter a young, gay, airy Beau, who stands smiling
contemptibly upon ~Esop~._

_Esop._ Well, Sir, what are you?

_Beau._ A Fool.

_Esop._ That's impossible!----for if thou wert, thou'd'st think thyself a wise Man.

_Beau._ So I do--This is my own Opinion----the t'other's my Neighbour's.

[_Walking airily about._

_Esop. gazing after him._] Have you any Business with me, Sir?

_Beau._ Sir, I have Business with nobody, Pleasure's my Study.

_Esop._ [_Aside._] An odd Fellow this!----Pray, Sir, who are you?

_Beau._ I can't tell----

_Esop._----Do you know who I am?

_Beau._ No, Sir: I'm a Favourite at Court, and I neither know myself, nor any body else.

_Esop._ Are you in any Employment?

_Beau._ Yes.

_Esop._ What is't?

_Beau._ I don't know the Name on't.

_Esop._ You know the Business on't, I hope?

_Beau._ That I do--the Business of it is----to----put in a Deputy and receive the Money.

_Esop._----Pray, what may be your Name?

_Beau._ Empty.

_Esop._ Where do you live?

_Beau._ In the Side-Box.

_Esop._ What do you do there?

_Beau._ I ogle the Ladies.

_Esop._ To what Purpose?

_Beau._ To no Purpose.

_Esop._ Why then do you do it?

_Beau._ Because they like it, and I like it.

_Esop._ Wherein consists the Pleasure?

_Beau._ In playing the Fool.

_Esop._----Pray, Sir, what Age are you?

_Beau._ Five and twenty my Body; my Head's about fifteen.

_Esop._ Is your Father living?

_Beau._ Dead, thank God.

_Esop._ Has he been long so?

_Beau._ Positively, yes.

_Esop._ Where were you brought up?

_Beau._ At School.

_Esop._ What School?

_Beau._ The School of _Venus_.

_Esop._ Were you ever at the University?

_Beau._ Yes.

_Esop._ What Study did you follow there?

_Beau._ My Bed-maker.

_Esop._ How long did you stay?

_Beau._ Till I had lost my Maidenhead.

_Esop._ Why did you come away?

_Beau._ Because I was expell'd.

_Esop._ Where did you go then?

_Beau._ To Court.

_Esop._ Who took Care of your Education there?

_Beau._ A Whore and a Dancing-Master.

_Esop._ What did you gain by them?

_Beau._ A _Minuet_, and the _Pox_.

_Esop._ Have you an Estate?

_Beau._ I had.

_Esop._ What's become on't?

_Beau._ Spent.

_Esop._ In what?

_Beau._ In a Twelvemonth.

_Esop._ But how?