Chapter II: Part 2

_Mer._ Why, to the _East-Indies_? I have a Vessel, Gentlemen, called the _Sea-Horse_, bound thither, and to morrow I do expect her to sail. Now, Gentlemen, if you'l venture, ye shall have fair Dealing, that I'll promise you. And for the French, you need not fear them, for she is a smart new Vessel: Nay, she hath a Letter of Mart too, and twenty brave roaring Boys on both Sides her, Starboard and Larboard: And I intend to go as far as _Marget_ down with her, 'twill be as good as Physick to me.

_Spr._ A very good Motion, Sir, I begin, there's my ten Pieces.

_Sum._ And, Sir, if a proffer'd Love may be accepted, be pleased to take my ten Pieces with you.

_Mer._ Your's above all the rest, Sir.

_Ara._ That's kindly said, Sir, and I thank you: Now pray venture Ten more for my sake.

_Sum._ Alas, Madam, it's a younger Brother's Portion.

_Ara._ At my Request, Sir, venture the other Ten; if you want, I'll supply you with as many more.

_Sum._ With all my Heart then: Come, Sir, if you please, I'll double mine: So now she's got her Gold again, and I am now no Thief, (_aside_) Sir, I have a Suit to you,

[_To_ Merryman.

_Mer._ You may command it, for I am always at your Service: But pray your Pleasure?

_Sum._ My Request, Sir, is, to have the Honour of keeping you Company to Sea, for I have a great desire to see _Marget_.

_Mer._ Sir, I shall be very happy in your good Company.

_Ara._ I hope you will be both better acquainted e're you return; and by that time your Kinsman may be here to make you more welcome.

_And for the Gold at my Request you lent,
I'll double it to give you more content._

Sum. _Why shou'd I fear, since she is prov'd so just?
I'll quit my Trade: Now_ Jack Catch _do thy worst._

_Exeunt._

_The End of the Second ACT._

ACT the Third.

_A Wood_

_Enter_ Bonvile _and_ Friendly.

_Bon._ Come my brave _Friendly_, I think we are here the first: Your Enemy is not yet i'th Field; let's walk a Turn or two, perhaps by that time he may arrive.

_Fri._ I'm very confident that he's here already.

_Bon._ Thy Looks, me-thinks, speak Conquest sure thy own; an ardent Rage has kindled both thy Cheeks.

_Fri._ Like a red Morning, Friend; which still foretels a stormy Day to follow--And now I well observe your Face, me-thinks it waxes pale, there's Death in it already.

_Bon._ How, _Friendly_, do you then take me for a Coward? My Face look pale, and Death in it already? By Heav'n, shou'd any but my _Friendly_ dare to tell me what thou hast said, my Sword shou'd ram the base Affront down the curst Villain's Throat. But you are my Friend, and I must only chide your Error. But prethee tell me who is it you are to fight with, for as yet I am ignorant both of the Cause and Person.

_Fri._ Ha, his Name! Did you enquire his Name?

_Bon._ Yes.

_Fri._ I dare not yet reveal it for fear of----

_Bon._ For fear of what?

_Fri._ O Confusion! I know not what to say!

_Bon._ How, afraid to tell his Name? Then I begin to doubt the Justice of your Quarrel.

_Fri._ Too well you may, for by yon' setting Sun, that Globe of heavenly Light I swear, I come to kill the only Man that strives to save my Life--Man did I say? Nay more than common Man, for those the World abound with; but such a Man besides, all this vast Land affords not.

_Bon._ By this your large Encomium of your Friend, I'm afraid 'twas Wine first made your Quarrel, and thereupon this Challenge did ensue.

_Fri._ O no! I call the Powers above to witness, that in all the Course of our unhappy Friendship, I to my knowledg never did receive the least Affront or Injury from him.

_Bon._ How came this Challenge then?

_Fri._ O dear Friend, the noblest that Man cou'd ever boast of: [_embraces him_] When first my rigid Fate threw on me this Command to fight, I had recourse to many whom I always thought my Friends; but when the Touchstone of my Danger try'd 'em, I found 'em like the cursed Fruit of _Sodom_, fair without, but rotten at the Heart: But then I found out _Bonvile_, my only dearest Friend. _Bonvile_ no sooner heard of my Engagement, but flew unto my Succour with as much Bravery, as a great General hastned by Alarms, marches to meet the Foe: You left your Nuptial Bed perhaps to meet your Death. O unheard-of Friendship! My Father gave me Life, 'tis true; but you, my Friend, support my Honour. All this for me, while I, ungrateful Man, thus seek your Life: For to my eternal Horror be it spoke, you are the Man whom I come here to kill.

_Bon._ Ha!

_Fri._ Too true alas! there read the Warrant for your Death.

[_Gives him the Letter._]

_Bon._ 'Tis a Woman's Hand.

_Fri._ Yes, and a bad One too, they all speak fair, write foul, but mean worse.

_Bon._ How! kill me? Sure, I dream, and this is all Delusion, or else thou dost it only to try thy Friend.

_Fri._ O, from my Soul, I wish it were no more. But read, read on, see how I'm fetter'd in a _Circe's_ Charms--I love beyond Imagination, love even to Madness, and must as madly do a Deed will damn me to the hottest Flames of Hell.

_Bon._ And woo't thou kill thy Friend for such a Woman?

_Fri._ Alas! I must, you see I am commanded, commanded too by Love; Love more powerful than all the Sacred Ties of Friendship, therefore draw, and guard thy self. [_Draws._

_Bon._ Not I by Heaven! What wou'dst thou have me draw and kill my Friend?

_Fri._ There thou stab'st my Soul. O where, where is now my Resolution fled? A fatal Blast has struck me; a sudden Horror shot me thro the Heart; a Trembling seiz'd my Knees, that I can hardly stand, and all my Vital Powers methinks seem dead; yet Love's the Fire must kindle all again, therefore I charge thee draw, or naked as thou art, I will assail thee.

_Bon._ I am defended against all that thou canst do, in having Justice on my Side, and Friendship too to back it.

_But since Humanity now bears so sway,
To this unguarded Breast come make your way._

Strike home be sure.

[_Opens his Bosom._

_Fri._ That were a barbarous Murder.

_Bon._ How can the Effect prove different from the Cause? Or how can any thing but damn'd Barbarity ensue a Woman's much more damn'd Design? Who wou'd expect Reason from one that raves, or hope for Mercy in a Tyger's Den? Believe me, _Friendly_, all this may sooner be; Mercy may sooner dwell among the Savage Wolves and Bears, than in a Woman's Breast.

_Fri._ O, my too rigid Fate, to place me thus on such a dangerous Precipice, that wheresoe're I turn my self for help, I see my Ruin still before mine Eyes.

[_Seems to weep._

_Bon._ [_Pausing._] Stay--The Command which thy _Medea_ sent thee, was to kill thy only dearest Friend, was it not?

_Fri._ Alas! it was.

_Bon._ Then here, all Friendship dies between us; thus hast thou kill'd thy Friend, and satisfied that infernal Hag, thy cursed Mistress, who thus commanded thee: Away, I say, begon, and never see me more.

_Fri._ Ha!

_Bon._ Yes, base ungrateful Wretch, farewel, (_Offers to go_) --Yet stay, and since that Sacred Tie of Friendship's broke, know thou, most vile of Men, that _Bonvile_'s now thy Enemy; therefore do thou draw and guard thy spotted Life.

_Fri._ How, Friend!

_Bon._ Friend didst thou call me? On forfeit of thy Life that word no more; the very Name of Friend from thee, shall be a Quarrel: How can I tell but that thou lovest my Wife, and therefore feign'd this damn'd Design to draw me from her Arms?

_Fri._ How! wrong thy Wife? O no, I never had a Thought so vile! Yet you must forgive me, indeed you must, by all that once was dear to me; and what I dare not mention more, by Love and Honour, I implore thy Pardon--Still art thou deaf to my Complaints?--Nay, then upon my Knee, I will enforce thy Pity. Behold me, _Bonvile_, prostrate at thy Feet, crawling for Mercy, swimming in Tears, and almost drown'd with Shame; extend thy Arm to help me, as thou'rt a Man, be God-like in thy Nature, and raise me from the Grave; turn thy Eyes on me, and sink me not with Frowns; O save me, save me, or I fall for ever.

_Bon._ As soon shall Heav'n reverse the Fate of Hell, as I recal what I have said, or plant thee in my Breast again.

_Fri._ Nay, then I am lost to thee, and all the World besides.

[_Rises._

_Bon._ Thou are indeed for ever lost to me; see what a miserable Wretch thy Folly now has made thee: A Creature so far below my Pity, that I despise and scorn thy base Submission, and will never hear thee more, more.

_Fri._ Say but thou hast forgiven me, and I will ask no more.

_Bon._ I never will.

_Fri._ O cruel _Bonvile_!

_Bon._ More barbarous _Friendly_: Hold off, or I will use thee like a Dog, tread thee to Earth, and spurn thee like a Slave, base as thou art.

_Fri._ Still thou art my Friend----

_Bon._ Thou ly'st, I have abjured the Name.

_Fri._ Let me but go with thee.

_Bon._ Not for the World; I'de rather venture my self with Crocodiles, catch the last dying Gasps of some poor Wretch infested with the Plague, than trust my self with thee.

_Farewel, I leave thee with the greatest Curse,
Condemn'd to Woman, Hell affords no worse._

[_Exit, breaking from him._

Friendly solus, _rising in a Passion._

_Fri._ Death and Destruction, am I thus despised! Condemned to Woman's Lust, and scorn'd by Man. By _Bonvile_ too, after imploring, like a School-Boy, at his Feet--My Blood boils high, and scalds my very Heart! My inward Grief calls on me for Revenge, and I am all on fire! O that I had the proud _Bonvile_ here now at my Feet, I'de use him worse than he did me before.

_But since that open Force yields no Relief,
Private Revenge shall ease my swelling Grief.
With Thoughts of Jealousy I'll fill his Soul,
Which shall its Powers of all their Rest controul.
Thus for a Woman I've begun a War,
And for her sake must damn my Soul like her._[Exit.

SCENE the Second.

_Enter_ Nurse, Compass, _and his Wife._

_Nurse._ Indeed you must pardon me, I can't let ye see the Child; to tell you the Truth, I am commanded to the contrary.

_Comp._ Commanded! Prethee who commanded thee?

_Nurse._ The Father.

_Comp._ The Father, Why who am I?

_Nurse._ Not the Father sure, the Civil Law has found it otherwise.

_Comp._ The Civil Law found it otherwise! Why then the Uncivil Law shall make it mine again, I'll be as dreadful as a _Shrove-Tuesday_ to thee; for I'll besiege thy squalling catterwauling Castle, with my Friends the Mob, and gut thy stinking Nursery, but I'll both see and have my Child.

_Nurse._ Harkee, Goodman Swabber, say but half so much again, and I'll call the Constable, and lay Burglary to your Charge. You wou'd not be so hot if the Enemy were in View, nor if you had to do with any body but a poor innocent Woman, so you wou'd'nt.

_Peg._ Good Husband be patient, and let me alone with her: Come, come, good Nurse, let him see the Boy.

_Nurse._ Indeed I dare not Goody _Compass_: The Father first you know delivered me the Child, and order'd me to let no body see it. He pays me well and weekly for my Pains, and therefore I'll do as be bad me, so I will.

_Comp._ Why thou white Bastard-breeder; Is not this Woman here the Mother?

_Nurse._ Yes, I grant you that.

_Comp._ Do you so? Well, and I grant it too; And is not the Child then my own by the Wives Copy-hold?

_Nurse._ The Law must try that.

_Comp._ The Law! What then you think I'll be but its Father-in-Law? I tell thee, all the Wit and Law twixt _Cuckolds-Point_ and _Westminster-Hall_, shan't keep my own dear Flesh and Blood from me, I warrant you that. No an't does, I'll be hanged at the Main-yard: Why, who, dost think, uses to get my Children but my self?

_Nurse._ Nay, I can't tell; you must look to that, for my part I ne're knew you get any.

_Comp._ Say'st thou so? Why, look you, do but put on a clean Smock, and try me, if thou darst, I'll hold thee three to one I get thee with Child before I leave thee: Heh! what say'st thou?

[_Offers to lay hold on her._.

_Nurse._ I'll see you hang'd first--Nay, pray be quiet, and don't offer to spoil my Milk. Lord, you are as boisterous as my Husband was the first Night we were married: Pray, Goody _Compass_, take off your Cur, or else he'l bite me.

_Peg._ No never fear him, Nurse, he's not so furious I assure ye.

_Enter Mr._ Venter _and his Wife._

_Nurse._ O! here's my Master, the Child's Father, now talk with him.

Mr. _Ven._ Good morrow Neighbour, good morrow to ye both.

_Comp._ Both! Good morrow to you and your Wife too, if you go to that.

Mr. _Ven._ I wou'd speak calmly with you, Friend, if you think fit.

_Comp._ I know what belongs to Calm, and a Storm too; and if you please, a cold word or two wi' you.

Mr. _Ven._ With all my Heart.

_Comp._ I understand that you have ty'd your Mare in my Ground.

Mr. _Ven._ My Mare, Friend, nay I assure you, 'twas only my Nag.

_Comp._ Your Nag? Well your Nag then let it be: Harke, Sir, to be short, I'll cut off your Nag's Tail, if e're I catch him there again.

Mr. _Ven._ Pray hear me, you are too rough to maintain----

_Comp._ I say, Sir, you shall maintain no Child of mine; my Wife does not bestow her Labour for that purpose.

Mr. _Ven._ You are too passionate--I will not maintain----

_Comp._ No marry shall you not.

Mr. _Ven._ The Deed I have done to be lawful, I have repented it, and given Satisfaction to the Law, my Purse has paid for't; therefore I wou'd treat milder with you if you'd be pleased.

_Comp._ Yes, yes, I am very well pleased, and shall be better pleased if you can serve me so still: For, look you Sir, one of these Days I shall to Sea again, you know where my Wife lives; yet you'l but lose your labour, for get as many Children as you can, I assure you, you shall keep none of them.

Mr. _Ven._ I think you are mad.

_Comp._ Why, if I am Horn-mad, what's that to you?

Mr. _Ven._ Nay then, since you are so rough, I tell you plainly you are--a----

_Comp._ A what? What am I, heh?

Mr. _Ven._ A Coxcomb.

_Comp._ A Coxcomb! a Cuckold you mean, and you a Fool for your pains.

Mr. _Ven._ The Child is mine, I am the Father of it, and will keep it.

_Comp._ Yes if you can, I know you will. But pray tell me, is not my Wife the Mother? You may be as far from being the Father as I am, for my Wife's acquainted with more Whore-masters besides your self; ay, and as crafty Merchants too, let me tell you that.

_Peg._ No indeed Husband, I had to do with no body else, 'twas he begot, indeed and indeed now. Yet for all that, the Child's mine, I bred it and bore it, and I'll have it and keep it, so I will.

Mrs. _Ven._ Pray hold there Mrs. Jill-flurt, the Child's my Husband's, and he shall have it, or I'll tear your Eyes out, ye Whore you.

_Comp._ Good Words, Mistress; d'ye hear, give good Words you'd best, or I shall tell you your own.

Mr. _Ven._ I'll have no more to say to ye, the Law shall determine it; in the mean time Nurse keep the Child for me, there, there's Money for thee.

[_Gives her Money.

_Comp._ There's Money for me too, keep it for me, Nurse; give him both thy Duggs at once, I pay thee for the right one, Girl.

_Nurse._ I have two Hands, you see Gentlemen; this does but show ye how the Law will hamper ye; even thus you'l be used, Gentlemen, if you go to Law.

Mr. _Ven._ It can't be helpt, for I won't lose my Right.

_Comp._ Nor I mine for all you're a Merchant.

Mrs. _Ven._ Nor I mine for all I did not bear it.

_Peg._ Nor I, tho but a poor Sailer's Wife.

Mr. _Ven._ Well, fare ye well, we shall meet in another Place--Come _Winny_.

[_Exit_ Venter _and his Wife._

_Comp._ Ay, ay, I'll meet you when and where you dare, and do your worst, I fear you not: By the Lord _Harry_ the World's come to a fine Pass, that we must go to Law for our Children. No wonder the Lawyers are all so rich, yet e're the Law shall have a Limb, a Leg, a Joint or Nail of this same Boy,

_'T shall cost me more than a whole Child in getting,
Some win by play, and standers by with Betting._

[Exeunt.

SCENE the Third.

_Enter_ Spruce, Arabella _with a Letter in her Hand_, Clara, _Mr._ Venter, _and Mrs._ Venter.

Mr. _Ven._ From whence came that Letter, Niece?

_Ara._ From _Putney_, Sir, and from my Husband.

Mr. _Ven._ And pray be free; Does he tell ye the Cause of his leaving you so abruptly on his Wedding-day?

_Ara._ Yes; Sir, yet this had been sufficient to have let me known what he is gone about, without the formal Addition of an Epistle.

_Spruce._ That, why what is that I pray Madam?

_Ara._ His Will, Sir, wherein he makes me his sole Executrix.

_Spr._ Will! why what the Devil does he mean, seriously I can't find it out?

_Ara._ Why, Sir, he's gone to fight.

_Spr._ How fight, Madam! On my Soul then I believe _Friendly_'s Second.

_Ara._ You're in the right, he is so, and I am lost for ever!

_Cla._ O foolish _Friendly_, this thy Mistake has made me the most wretched of Woman-kind! Such variety of Thoughts load my afflicted Breast, that I know not what to think: I rave, am mad, not knowing what my Folly may produce; I fear for both, for both my Heart does bleed.

_Ara_. Miserable Maid! nay, miserable Wife! but much more miserable Widow! O my dear _Bonvile_!

_Spr._ Duce take me, if e're I saw a Company so Phlegmatick in all my Life: Mr. _Venter_, prethee let's have a Song, to pass away the Time, and put Life into the Bride.

Mr. _Ven._ With all my Heart, Mr. _Spruce_: Here, who waits?--Call in the Musick, and desire 'em to oblige the Ladies with a new Song.

[_Servant Enter and Exit._ ]

_Cla._ Your self, Sir, you mean?

_Spr._ Nay all of us I protest.

Mr. _Ven._ Ay, ay, all of us.

_Enter Musick and others who sing._

A Dialogue set by _Seignior Baptist_.

Man. _A Woman's Love_ Woman. _And Man's is such,_
Man. _Still too little,_ Wom. _Or else too much._
Wom. _Men are Extreams,_ Man. _And Women too,_
Wom. _All, all are false,_ Man. _All, All like you._
Wom. _You'll swear and lie,_ Man. _If you'l believe,_
Wom. _And sigh and die,_ Man. _Yet still deceive._
Wom. _Your Vows and Oaths_ Man. _Your Smiles and Tears,_
Wom. _Are all but Baits,_ Man. _Are all but Snares._
Wom. _To win a Heart,_ Man. _And then destroy,_
Wom. _The easy Fool,_ Man. _The promis'd Joy._

Another Strain.

Wom. _I'le have you offer no more your Pretending,_
Man. _Nor will I suffer your modish Dissembling:_
Wom. _For Honour commands,_
Man. _And Freedom withstands,_
Wom. _What you?_
Man. _And you._
Wom. _I know wou'd have me be, your Slave,_
Man. _I know wou'd have me be, your Slave._
Wom. _O, no, no, no!_
Man. _No, no, no, no!_
Wom. _I never will agree,_
Man. _I ever will be free._

_After the Song enter Justice_ Merryman, Summerfield, _and three or four Sailers._

_Mer._ Daughter, Daughter! Where's my Daughter? I say, Where's my Daughter? O Girl, I have the best News to tell you----

_Ara._ What of my Husband, Sir?

_Mer._ No, no, of your Cousin, Girl, of your Cousin.

_Ara._ What of him, Sir?

_Mer._ Such a Cousin, Girl, such a dear Cousin he is, as _Alexander the Great_, if he were alive, might be proud and boast of.

_Ara._ You're welcome here again, Sir; You've made but a short Voyage, pray what occasion'd your Return so speedily?

_Sum._ Madam, I render you ten thousand Thanks; Your Generosity and Goodness has wholly made me yours; I am the humblest of your faithful Admirers.

_Ara._ Forbear such lavish Gratitude; You'r too profuse in your Acknowledgment of your small Favours. But pray be brief, and let me know the happy Occasion of this your sudden Return, I long methinks to hear it.

_Sum._ Madam, you may command me--Not to molest the Company with the Recital of every vain and needless Circumstance; 'twas briefly thus. Scarce had we passed by _Marget_ on our Course, when on a sudden, from the Top-mast head, a Sailer cries, All hands Aloft, three Sails ahead: With that we rumidg and clear our Deck, our Gun-room arm'd, and all things now are ready for a Fight. The Ships before descried, with warlike Stems cut the resisting Waves, whilst from their Pendants fluttering in the Air, we found they were three _Dunkirk_ Privateers; they having made our English Cross advanced, salute us with a Broad-side, to make us strike and yield: But we, who ne're knew as yet what 'twas so cowardly to yield, and not regarding their unequal Odds, fell boldly on, returning Fire for Fire. The Engagement then grew desperate, for they on either Side fired in amain, whilst we withstood their Force. At length they boldly grappled, and laid us close aboard, and we as bravely beat them off again.

_Mer._ But now, Daughter, mark what follows, for that's worth all, I'faith it is; therefore go on, dear Cuz, go on.

_Sum._ Sea-room at length we got; when (as Fate wou'd have it) an unlucky Shot struck both the Captain and Lieutenant dead. Then we began to fear, and all our noble Hearts were trembling with despair.

_Mer._ No, no, not all Daughter--But you shall hear more--Ods bobs you shall.

_Sum._ How cou'd it be otherwise, when both our Commanders now were lost? therefore to strike was all the Talk----

_Mer._ Ay, ay, now Daughter, now comes the Play, the other was only the Prologue.

_Sum._ But Fortune favouring, and the Wind springing a fresh Gale, we got clear off and try'd to make a running Fight.

_Mer._ Ay, but Cuz, how did we do all this? by whose Order and Direction?

_Sum._ Pardon me, Sir, 'twas of so small Moment, that already it has slipt my treacherous Memory.

_Mer._ Oh, ho! has it so! Ha, ha, ha! But it has not mine, I thank you, no marry has it not, as you shall hear--Then he, with an undaunted Spirit, started up amongst the Sailers, and----

_Sum._ Nay pray Sir----

_Mer._ By the Foot of _Pharaoh_ I'll not be balkt; he, I say, with an Heroick Voice cried out, Courage brave boys, Charge and Discharge amain; come I'll supply your fall'n Captain's place. At this blest News they all fell on again, with ten thousand times more Fury than before: Victory, Victory, was all their cry, whilst he my Cousin here, whom I shall ne're forget, for by the Lord, methinks, I see him in the Fight this very Instant, now running this way, now running that way, now down to the Gun-room to encourage those that fought there; now upon the Deck again, still crying out, Fear not, brave Boys, the Day will soon be our's.

_Sum._ O pray, Sir, let me intreat you to forbear, you make me ashamed, I protest, to hear you.

_Mer._ Ashamed, say you? Ha, ha, ha!

_Ara._ Good Sir, go on.

_Mer._ I will, I will--At length the proud French swallowing too many of our English Balls, two of 'em very fairly cried, Your Servants Gentlemen, farewel, and down they went. The other having lost most of her Men, resolved to leave us; but we being too nimble, overtook her, clapt some Men aboard, and brought her in a Prize: And this my brave Man of War here, was the first that boarded her with Sword in Hand.

_1 Sailer._ Of all this I was an Eye-witness.

_2 Sailer._ And so was I.

_3 Sailer._ And I, and all of us.

_Mer._ Yes, and many more stout Boys besides.

_Spruce._ Sir, we are all indebted to your Valour; such Voyages as these, from small Venturers, in time may make us great Merchants.

_Mer._ Well, never was Fight better managed before, that's certain.

_1 Sail._ No, never, never!

_2 Sail._ Better, say you? No nor half so well.

_3 Sail._ If it were in our Power, we'd make him Admiral, so we wou'd.

_Sum._ Gentlemen, 'tis to your Valours all, that I am indebted for the Honour I have gain'd: And that I may not seem wholly ungrateful, there, there's something in token of my Thankfulness.

[_Gives 'em Money._

_1, 2, 3 Sailers._ Heaven bless your Worship.

_Ara._ Come Cousin, we'l withdraw into the Parlour: And if these honest Friends will be pleased to drink what our House affords, they shall be welcome.

_1 Sail._ Thank you Mistress with all our Hearts.

[Exeunt _all but Sailers_.

_2 Sail._ Well, this Mr. _Summerfield_ is a brave Fellow, Gadzooks he is.

_3 Sail._ Ay _Tom_ so he is; had it not been for him, we had all been taken on my Conscience.

_1 Sail._ On my Soul and so we had: O if you had but seen him when he boarded the _Monsieur_, 'twou'd have made you laugh 'till you had split your Sides. He came up to the Captain o'this fashion with a Slap--ha! and gave him such a back-handed wipe, that he cut off his Head as genteely, as tho he had served seven Years Apprenticeship to't.

_Enter Servant with a Bowl of Punch._

_Serv._ Gentlemen, Mr. _Summerfield_ desires ye to be merry, and has sent you this to drink his Health.

_1 Sail._ O, the Lord bless him, he's a fine Gentleman, and so pray tell him, and withal give him our hearty Thanks; Dost hear Boy?

_Serv._ Yes, yes, I will.

[_Exit._

_2 Sail._ What is't Brother?

_3 Sail._ Punch by this Light!

Omnes. _Hoo-ra; Hoo-ra; Viva_ Mr. _Summerfield, Viva, Hoora._

[The first Sailer takes the Bowl of Punch, walks in state round the Stage, and sings; the others all follow.]

_Here's a Health to jolly_ Bacchus,
_Here's a Health to jolly_ Bacchus,
_Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho._
_For he will merry make us,_
_For he will merry make us,_
_Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho._
_Then sit ye down together,_
_Then sit ye down together._

[_They all sit down with the Bowl in the middle._

_2 Sail._ Pshaw! Pox o'th' this old Song, prithee let's have a Dance.

_3 Sail._ With all my Heart; strike up Musick.

_The Sailers and their Wives dance._

After the Dance.

1 Sail. _So, well done my Lads, now let's aboard amain,_
_And suck our Faces o're and o're again._
_Brandy we've got enough, by this blest Chance,_
_We'l nothing drink but Punch, when we get_ France.

_Omn._ Hoora! Hoora! Exeunt omnes.

_The End of the Third ACT._

ACT the Fourth.

_A Tavern._

[2 Tables, three Chairs to each.]

_Enter_ Compasse, Peg, _and_ Pettifog.

_A Drawer Meets them._

_Drawer._ Welcome Gentlemen. Please to walk into a Room?

_Compasse:_ Aye Boy. Come Mr. _Pettifog_, please you sit.

_Pettifog:_ With all my Heart; Come Mistress.

_Draw._ What Wine will you be pleased to drink, Gentlemen?

_Pett._ Ask the good Woman: speak Mistress.

_Com._ Canary for her; I know what relishes her Palat best. A Quart of brisk Canary, Boy.

_Draw._ Ye shall have the best in _England_.--Coming, Coming, Sir.

[_Exit._.

_Com._ What call you this same Tavern, Mr. Attorney?

_Pett._ The King's Head, Sir.

_Com._ The King's Head: Marry, it has a good Neighbour of _Guild-hall_. It takes many a fair Pound upon that 'n Account, I warrant you.

_Draw._ (within) A Quart of Canary in the King's-head, score.

_Enter Drawer, fills a Glass, and gives it_ Compasse.

_Draw._ Sir, Here's a Glass of the richest Canary that ever came over, the very Quintessence of the Grape I assure you.

_Com._ Say'st thou so? Why then there's a Tester for thee, and so leave us--. Come, Mr. _Pettifog_, [_Exit Drawer_] and 't please you my Service to you.

[_Drinks._

_Pett._ I thank you kindly, Sir.--Mrs. my Service to you, your Husband's good Health.

[_Drinks._

_Peg._ With all my Heart indeed, Here my dear black ey'd Rogue, thy n'own good Health.

[_Drinks._

_Com._ Thank you _Peg_, thank you, so now let's mind our Business.

_Enter Mr._ Ventere, _his Wife, and_ Dodge, _to another Table in the same Room._

Mr. _Ven._ Show a Room, Drawer.

_Draw._ Here Sir.

Mr. _Ven._ Ne're a private Room?

_Draw._ No Sir, the House is full.

_Com._ Ods fish, whom have we here, my Wife's Merchant, with his Lawyer?

_Pett._ Ye know we promised to give him a Meeting here.

_Comp._ 'Tis true we did so,--but come to the Business in hand.

[_Pettifog_ and _Compasse_ talk privately.

Mr. _Ven._ Well, bring us a Bottle of your best Red.

_Draw._ You shall have it, Sir.

[_Exit_ Drawer.

Mr. _Ven._ And what do you think of my Cause, Mr. _Dodge_?

_Dodge._ O we shall carry it most certainly: You have Money to go through with the Business; and ne're fear but we'll trounce them swingingly.

Mr. _Ven._ I warrant you think it very strange, Mr. _Dodge_, that I am at this Charge and Expence to bring a farther Charge upon me.

_Dodge._ Not I, I assure you, Sir, for I know you are a wise Man, and know very well what you do; besides you have Money, Money enough, Sir.

Mr. _Ven._ Why the short and the long of the Business is this; I made a Purchase lately, and in that I did estate the Child (about which I'm sued) Joint-Purchaser with me in all the Land I bought.

Mrs. _Ven._ Right Husband; and you know 'twas I that advised you to make the Purchase, and therefore I'll never give my Consent to have the Child brought up by such a stinking Tar-barrel as now sues for him; he'd only bring him up to be a Swabber; no, no, he was born a Merchant and a Gentleman, and he shall live and die so.

_Dodge._ You are a worthy Gentlewoman upon my word; there are but few of such a noble Temper: But what makes the Fool of the Husband then so troublesome; does he not know when he's well?

Mrs. _Ven._ So 'tis a sign.

_Dodge._ A Blockhead, to proclaim his own Disgrace, and make himself laugh'd at.

Mr. _Ven._ That's not it, he hopes to be the better by what is settled on the Boy.

_Dodge._ O, God's so, that's true: But never fear, I'll be hang'd if he carry it, for you have Money, as I told you, Sir, before: but see, Sir, there they are.

Mr. _Ven._ Yes, Yes, I saw them before: but come, where's our Wine? (_Within_) [the Bell rings as at the Bar.

_Enter Drawer with a Bottle of Wine._

_Draw._ Here Sir,--Coming, Coming, Sir: _Philip_, speak up in the Mermaid, and bid _Jack_ light a Fire.

[_Exit_ Drawer.

_Comp._ Well Mr. _Pettifog_, and what think you of my Suit, Sir?

_Pett._ Why look you Sir, the Defendant you know was arrested first by a _Latitat_ in an Action of Trespass.

_Comp._ Yes, and a Lawyer told me, it shou'd have been an Action of the Case, did he not, Wife?

_Peg._ I have no Skill in the Law you know Husband, but the Gentleman did say so.

_Pett._ Aye, but your Action of the Case in this Point is too ticklish.

_Comp._ Well, but pray tell me, do you think I shall overthrow my Adversary?

_Pett._ Without all doubt, the Child he says is none of yours, What of that! I marry a Widow, and am by Consequence possess'd of a Ward. Now shall not I have the Management of that Ward? Now Sir you lie at a stronger Ward, for _Partus sequitur ventrem_, says the Civil Law: So that if you were within the Compass of the four Seas, as the Common Law goes, the Child must be yours, that's certain.

_Comp._ Say you so, Sir? Why then the Child's my own, for I have been a Coaster these five Years and more; and so my Service to you: [Drinks]. O your Attorneys in _Guild-hall_ have a rare time on't, by the Lord _Harry_.

_Peg._ They are as it were both Judg and Jury themselves.

_Comp._ And O how they will laugh at their Clients when they sit in a Tavern, and call them Fools, Blockheads and Coxcombs, and then whip up their Causes as nimbly as a Barber trims his Customers on a _Christmas-Eve_; a Snip, a Wipe and away.

_Pett._ That's very common, you shall have the like at a _Nisi-prius_.

_Enter Drawer._

_Draw._ Here's a Gentleman, one Mr. Justice _Merryman_, enquires for Mr. _Ventere_ the Merchant.

Mr. _Ven._ Here Boy, desire them to walk up. [_Exit_ Drawer.] 'Tis my Brother, and a Counsellor, to make an End of this same Business.

_Enter Justice_ Merryman _and a Counsellor; both Tables rise and join together._

_Merr._ Your Servant, Gentlemen, your Servant: Counsellor _Blunder_ and I have been canvasing the Business of this your Difference; and I believe, Brother, the Law will determine it as we have done; for it is point blank against you.

Mr. _Ven._ If it is, I must be contented: Well Sir, the Child's your Wife's, and you shall have it; and to endear you the more to't, I'll settle my part of the Estate on you and yours for ever: Give me your Hand.

[_They shake Hands._

We now are Friends.

_Merr._ Why that's well said.

_Couns._ We all are Witness to the Agreement.

_Omnes._ All, all.

_Comp._ Nay I scorn to be outdone in Civility; therefore if you please I have a Gallon or two of Prize-Wine, and half a Dozen of good sound _Bruges_-Capons, which I'll treat you and this good Company with at Supper; but no more Mutton, no not a bit.

_Merr._ Well Brother, I'm glad you're Friends: Ods bobs I am. But come, let's home now, and see what's become of the Bride and Bridegroom: Farewel Friend, farewell: Come we'll pay at the Bar.

[_Exeunt_ Merr. _Mr._ Vent. _and his Wife,_ Couns. _and_ Dodge.

_Comp._ Come _Peg_, Come and kiss me.

[_Compass_ kisses Peg.

I am Friends with thee too now.

_Pett._ Aye, aye, you have Reason, she has earn'd you a good Fortune; and need not venture to Sea any more: Yet one thing let me advise you, 'tis Counsel worth a good Fee, for it cures Cuckoldom.

_Comp._ Sayst thou so, come let's hear it.

_Pett._ This it is, Make a flat Divorce between your selves, be you no longer her Husband, nor she your Wife: Two or three Hours after meet again, salute, woo and wed afresh, and so the base Name of Cuckold's blotted quite. This has been experienc'd and approved by many.

_Comp._ 'Tis excellent i'faith,--There, there's for you; and I thank you. _Peg_, I renounce thee,--nay and I renounce my self too from thee; thou art now a Widow, _Peg_; I'll go hang my self two or three Hours at one o' th' Main Yards, and so long thou shalt go drown thy self. Then we'll meet in _White-Chappel-Fields_, as it were by chance, and woo and wed again.

_Peg._ With all my Heart, kind Sir, fare you well.

_Comp._ Farewel Widow, remember Time and Place, and d' you hear, Put on your Sabbath-day best Clothes.

_Peg._ I will, I will.

[_Exit Peg._

_Comp._ Sir, I am beholding to you for your good Counsel.

_Pett._ No, Sir, you have paid me for 't, but I hope you do not intend to follow your own.

_Comp._ What is that?

_Pett._ Why, you said you'd hang your self.

_Camp._ No no, I have thought better on't, for I'll go drink my self dead drunk, then wake again, wash my Face, and meet the Bride.

_Pett._ That's well said, and I'll accompany you, and wish you Joy.

_Comp._ Joy, Sir, I have it Sir already, in a good Estate got by a Chopping Boy.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Friendly solus.

_Fri._ Was ever Fortune like to this of mine? Who for the Smile of a vile simple Woman, have acted thus against my very Soul, all to please a Creature, whose next Command perhaps will higher mount, it may be light on my self, as now it did on _Bonvile_.

_Enter_ Clara.

_Cla._ Ha! _Friendly_ here alone. Now, now, my Fears begin.

[_Aside_.

So, Sir, you are return'd I see.

[_To him._

_Fri._ Madam, I am, and like those noble Knights in former times, after subduing all their Ladies Foes, returning with the joyful News of Conquest, receive her trembling to their longing Arms, and claim her as their own, so I----.

_Cla._ What mean you, Sir?

_Fri._ Madam, You are obeyed, your hard Commands fulfilled; at your Request I've kill'd my Friend, nay and my best of Friends.

_Cla._ How? kill'd your Friend for me.

_Fri._ Indeed 'tis true.

_Cla._ Then thou art truly wretched: But say, say quickly, who's this unhappy Man whom thy Mistake hath thus untimely kill'd?

_Fri._ _Bonvile._

_Cla._ _Bonvile_ said you? My Blood with an unusual Course runs backward from my Heart! Horror has seiz'd my Soul! A thick-black Mist has overcast my Sight, and I am not the same: but speak, O speak again, Was it _Bonvile_?

_Fri._ Why shou'd you seek to iterate my Guilt, by a Rehearsal of that dreadful Name? Too sure, alas! It was: _Bonvile_'s the Friend I've kill'd.

_Cla._ Curs'd be the Tongue that spoke it, but doubly curs'd the Hand that did the barbarous Fact.

_Fri._ Why Madam, was it not your Command to kill my Friend; nay more, my best of Friends?

_Cla._ Yes, and I thought my self your best of Friends.

_Fri._ I hope you wou'd not have had me murder'd you?

_Cla._ No, Monster, no.

_Fri._ These are Riddles.

_Cla._ Fool, our whole Sex is made of nothing else: Thou mayst sooner untie the Gordian Knot, expound the Problems of the monstrous _Sphynx_, and read what is decreed in the mysterious Book of Fate, than unfold a Woman's sly malitious Meaning.

_Fri._ Very well; she first set me on to do this most accurs'd of Deeds, and now upbraids me; nay wou'd hang me for 't: These are the Tricks of all her damning Sex. O Woman, Woman, Woman, dear devilish Woman, farewel.

[_Offers to go._

_Cla._ Stay _Friendly_, all I have said was only to try your Constancy; and whether you'd repent of what you've done. But tell me truly, is _Bonvile_ surely dead?

_Fri._ Indeed he is.

_Cla._ 'Tis bravely done, and I adore thee for 't. By Heaven I love thee now, even unto Dotage!

_Fri._ Was ever Change like this? The subtlest Labyrinth Wit cou'd ere invent, affords not half so many Turnings as a Woman's Mind.

[_Aside._

What mean you, Madam, by this seeming Transport?

_Cla._ O _Friendly_, _Friendly_, I am all o're Extasy! Thou hast done a Deed that ravishes my Soul. At once thou hast kill'd my dear and only Friend, and slain the fatal'st Enemy I had.

_Fri._ What more Riddles Madam, pray explain your self.

_Cla._ I will; I will declare a Secret which till now I never did disclose: I lov'd that _Bonvile_ whom thou now hast slain, not as I ought to do, but with a Woman's Love, which he never did know: And Yesterday when I beheld the fatal Marriage ended, then like a Merchant walking on the _Downes_, sees a rich Vessel of his own engaged, and after took, and born away a Prize: So I, after I'd seen my _Bonvile_ lost, (for so he was to me) resuming all the Malice of a Woman, resolved never to entertain one Thought of Love again; but lead a Life as _Lapland_ Witches do, only on others Ruines: Then when you approached me with the hateful Sound of Love, to dash your Hopes, and put a Period to your growing Passion, I bid you kill your best and dearest Friend?

_Fri._ True.

_Cla._ Now the best Friend to one in Love, is Love it self.

_Fri._ O my curs'd Stars, that wrap'd me up in such a black Mistake, What have I done?

_Cla._ Done! Why you have done bravely, why do you tremble?

_Fri._ An inward Guilt lies heavy on my Soul, and Horror with all her dreadful Forms still haunts my Sight. And did you love this _Bonvile_?

_Cla._ The Queen of Beauty never doted more on her beloved _Adonis_ than I on him.

_Fri._ And now as much you hate him: O the unheard-of Inconstancy of Women! All that they have is feign'd; their Teeth, their Hair, their Blushes, and their Smiles; nay their very Conscience (if any such they have) is feign'd; all counterfeit and false: Let them wash, patch and daub themselves with all the Helps for Nature that Art cou'd e're invent, still they are Women: And let 'em rob all _India_ of its store to adorn themselves therewith, still are they not all that thing call'd Woman: I know not what to do, for I love and hate this Creature both at once.

_Cla._ What ails my _Friendly_?

_Fri._ But _Bonvile_ yet must feel his Enemies Rage; shall he succeed in Love, whilst I am cross'd in mine? No, it must not, cannot, nay it shall not be.

_Four Heads I have, to make a Plot not common;
Malice, Revenge, the Devil, and a Woman._

[_Offers to go._

_Cla._ What will you leave me then?

_Fri._ Leave thee; yes, forever: Fly thee as I wou'd a Blast from Hell: Thou art thy self a Hell; thy base detested hateful Woman's Breath infects the purest Air:

_May my Friend's Blood, which I for thee have spilt,
Light on thy Head, and your's be all the Guilt._

[_Exeunt_ severally.

_Enter_ Compasse _new clothed_, Pettifog, _and two or three Men Neighbors._

_Comp._ Gentlemen and Neighbours, as you have been Witnesses to our Divorce, so shall ye now be Evidences to our next Meeting, which I look for every Minute.

1st _Neigh._ I came for that Intent, Neighbour.

_Comp._ I thank you: well, I do not think but you'll all see me come off with as smooth a Forehead, and make my Wife as honest a Woman as a Man wou'd desire sometimes, I mean of her Rank; and a teeming Woman, as you know she has been: Nay, I do not think but the Child too will be found to be as lawful a Child as any Couple of unmarried People can beget.

2d _Neigh._ We long to see it Neighbour _Compasse_, that so some of us may do the like upon the same occasion.

_Comp._ You're in the right, old Stitch of the World: But soft, see where she comes with a whole Bundle of as good sound Maidens as her self.

_Enter_ Peg _new cloth'd, with three or four Women Neighbours._

Stand aside a little, and mind me I pray.

_Omnes._ Agreed, agreed.

_Comp._ Good Morrow fair Maid.

_Peg._ In truth Sir you are mistaken in both, for I am neither fair, nor yet a Maid.

_Comp._ No, what are you then I pray, a Wife?

_Peg._ That indeed I was, but alas,--I am now a Widow.

_Comp._ A Widow say you? Nay then I must make bold with you; for look you, your Case is somewhat like mine, I being a Husband without a Wife.

1st _Neigh._ Aye neighbour, this is something like.

_Pett._ They begin well, let them go on.

_Comp._ How long have you been a Widow, good Woman? Nay pray do not weep forsooth.

_Peg._ I can't choose but cry, to think of the great Loss I had.

_Comp._ Why, was he an honest Man?

_Peg._ Honest quoth a', I vow and protest he was as honest a Man as e're broke Bread. O I shall never have such another.

[_Cries out._

_Comp._ By my Faith now Mistress you have had a great Loss indeed, for an honest Man is not to be found every where, nor in every Street.

_Pett._ The Rogue's witty.

2d _Neigh._ Aye, aye, let 'em go on.

_Comp._ And how long is it since you lost this honest Husband?

_Peg._ O dear, his Memory is too fresh; and the Sight of you doubles my Sorrow.

_Comp._ The Sight of me, say you; why, was he so like me?

_Peg._ As one Apple to another; your two Hands are not more alike.

_Comp._ Nay then I cannot blame thee to weep: An honest Man he was I warrant him; and you have had a mighty Loss, that's the Truth on't: But was he proportioned like me, so well limb'd, and of such a wholesom Complexion, heh!

_Peg._ No Twins were ever more alike.

_Comp._ Well I love, his Memory is still better and better: and how many Children did he leave behind him?

_Peg._ Only one, Sir.

_Comp._ A Boy or a Girl?

_Peg._ A dainty fine Boy, Sir.

_Comp._ Just my own case still; my Wife (rest her Soul) left me a Boy too, a lusty chopping Boy of his Age (as they tell me, for I never saw it).

_Peg._ So is mine.

_Comp._ And what Profession was your Husband of?

_Peg._ A Seaman.

_Comp._ Heigh! my own Faculty too! And can you like a Man of that Profession again?

_Peg._ Yes surely, for his dear sake, whom I lov'd so tenderly, I shall always esteem a Sailer.

_Comp._ Shall you so? why then here's your Man: What say you, Is't a Match?

_Peg._ Dear me, I am so ashamed, and yet to speak the Truth, I do like you hugely, and wou'd like you better still, if it were not for one thing, which a little troubles me.

_Comp._ What's that?

_Peg._ Why, you know sometimes we are forc'd to endure the Absence of our Husbands a long while, mehappen many Years, and then if there be any Slip in us, (as long Vacations will make Lawyers hungry) the World is apt to censure and scandalize us; and brand us with wanton Living and Incontinency; when alas! if they wou'd but consider our Condition, and the mighty Longings we often naturally have for Flesh and Blood, they wou'd not blame us, so they wou'd not.

_Comp._ Come, come, no Matter, canst thou love me, Widow?

_Peg._ Ah, if I durst but speak my Mind, I know what I wou'd say.

_Comp._ Durst, why who do you fear? here's none but an honest Gentleman, some few Friends and Neighbours; let them hear a God's Name what you wou'd say, and never blush for the Matter.

1st _W. Neigh._ Aye, aye, speak Neighbour, pray speak your Mind, and fear not.

_Peg._ I shall be thought too weak to yield at first Sight.

2d _W. Neigh._ Paw! paw! that's only Nicety.

_Peg._ Well then I do love him dearly and dearly, so I do.

[_Runs and kisses him_.

_Comp._ And I thee with all my Heart and Soul.

[Comp. _kisses_ Peg.

Now we'll be merry, and have a Song, shall we not my Neighbours?

3d _Neigh._ Marry will we, Neighbour _Luff_ and Mrs. Bride, will ye give us a Song?

_Peg._ With all my Heart, come Neighbour.

A DIALOGUE.

Man:

_Faith and Troth I love thee dearly,
Tho I do but bluntly woo,
Prithy then resolve me clearly,
Whether I am beloved by you.
Long I shall not keep a pother,
Like a senseless whining Beau;
If you won't I'll court another
Who will never say me no._

Woman:

_Friend, your self, nor Humour neither
With my Fancy disagree,
Yet I must find clearer Weather
Er'e I venture out to Sea.
Court another at your Pleasure
Win her in the Honey-moon,
She may chance repent at leisure,
For believing you too soon._

Man:

_Leave your damn'd Fantastick Trials,
Which procure a Lover's Pain,
Pox upon these sham-Denials,
'Tis but spending time in vain.
With Embraces happy make me,
Nature fram'd you to be kind;
Kiss me, and the Devil take me
If I ever change my Mind._

Woman:

_I'll pursue the good old Fashion,
Practise still by those are wise,
Throughly try my Lover's Passion,
E're I let him grasp the Prize.
Spite of Oaths you wou'd forsake me,
Shou'd I let you once embrace:
If I kiss, the Devil take me,
Till the Parson has said Grace._

Chorus.

_Since then Nation
Has made it a Fashion,
Let's send for a Black Coat, whilst we're in the Mind.
But it is damn'd Slavery,
And Priestly Knavery,
That Parsons must conjure e're Lovers be kind._

_Com._ So, so, here now shall we be Man and Wife again to Morrow, as good as ever. What tho we met as Strangers, we may happen to love ne're the worse for all that--Gentlemen and Neighbours, I invite ye all to my Wedding.

_Omnes._ We'l not fail you, and wish you Joy.

_Com._ Did I not tell you that I would fetch it cleverly off? Let any Man call me Cuckold if he dares now.

_Petti._ 'Tis slander in him I assure you who-ever does.

_Com._ Nay it will be _Petti Lacenary_ at least, and without Compass of the General Pardon too: And for the Child, let me hear him that dares say, I am not the Father.

_Petti._ Sure none will dare dispute it.

_Com._ Or that my Wife that is to be, is not as honest a Woman as some other Mens Wives are.

_Petti._ No question of that.

_Com._ O how fine and smooth my Brows are now!

_1 M. Neigh._ Aye but when you're married, they'll come to themselves again I warrant ye.

_Com._ My Friends, if you please, you may call me Mr. Bridegroom now, for the Guests are all bidden to the Wedding.

_1 M. Neigh._ We know it, Mr. Bridegroom, they are Indeed, and we'll not fail you upon our Words.

_Comp._

_Come then, brisk Widow, e're the next Ebb and Tide,
I'le be thy Bridegroom, and thou sha't be my Bride._

_Exeunt omnes._

_The End of the Fourth ACT._

ACT the Fifth.

_Enter_ Arabella _on one Side_.

Summerfield _meeting her from the other_.

_Ara._ Mr. _Summerfield_, I now am truly happy, my Prayers at last are heard; and Heaven has restored my Husband to my Arms.

_Sum._ I just now heard the joyful News, and thought to have been my self the welcome Messenger of his Return, but find I'me come too late; have you seen him?

_Art._ No; as yet I have not.

_Sum._ 'Tis somewhat strange!

_Ara._ Others perhaps may judg it so, but my uncommon Joy for his Return, admits no other Thought, but those of Transport for his Safety.

_Sum._ O happy _Bonvile_! How I admire and wonder at thy Choice!

_Enter_ Friendly.

Madam, a Wife like you, exceeds the greatest Blessing sure on Earth.

_Fr._ The nearest way to a secure Revenge, is private Malice, which, like _Aside._ a Spark long lying hid amongst neglected Ashes, by the least Blast of Wind becomes it self a Flame--Ha!, who have we here? Thrice blest Occasion! which thus have offered me at once the Scope of my revengeful Wishes. 'Tis _Arabella_ and her Darling _Summerfield_, one who, in the Bridegroom's Absence, is grown thus intimate with his beloved Bride. A strong Foundation on which I'll now erect a brave Revenge; I'll step aside and observe them.

[_Retires to one side of the Stage._

_Ara._ Sir, I hope he'll soon be here, and return the Kindness you have shown me; so I take my leave, with hourly expectation of a much-long'd for Husband.

_Sum._ And I, with a Gratitude never to be forgotten, kiss your fair Hand, and hope that all things will answer your Expectation. [_Exit_ Arabella.

_Fri._ Ay, 'tis so, now must I counterfeit a friendly Face to make a farther Discovery.

[_Aside._

Sir, your humble Servant: without Offence, may I be so bold as to beg the Favour of your Name?

_Sum._ The Question I must confess is somewhat familiar, and in my Opinion improper for a Stranger at first sight; but yet I ne're disown'd it to a Gentleman--'tis _Summerfield_.