Laet. Ah, cruel dear! how can you be so barbarous? You'll break my heart if you talk of parting. [Cries.

Fond. Ah, dissembling vermin!

Bell. How canst thou be so cruel, Isaac? Thou hast the heart of a mountain-tiger. By the faith of a sincere sinner, she's innocent for me. Go to him, madam, fling your snowy arms about his stubborn neck. Bathe his relentless face in your salt trickling

tears

[She goes and hangs upon his neck, and kisses him.

Bellmour kisses her hand behind Fondlewife's back. So, a few soft words, and a kiss, and the good man melts. See how kind nature works, and boils over in him.

Laet. Indeed, my dear, I was but just come down stairs, when you knock'd at the door; and the maid told me Mr. Spintext was ill cf the cholic, upon our bed. And won't you speak to me, cruel Nykin? Indeed, I'll die if you do n't.

Fond. Ah! No, no, I cannot speak, my heart's so full-I have been a tender husband, a tender yoke-fellow; you know I have-But thou hast been a faithless Dalilah, and the Philistines-Heh! Art thou not vile and unclean, heh? Speak.

Laet. No-h.

Fond. Oh, that I could believe thee!

Laet. Oh, my heart will break!

[Weeping.

[Sighing.

[Seeming to faint.

Fond. Heh, how! No, stay, stay, I will believe

thee, I will.Pray bend her forward, sir.

Laet. Oh! Oh! Where is my

dear?

Fond. Here, here; I do believe thee

lieve my own eyes.

-I won't be

Bell. For my part, I am so charm'd with the love of your turtle to you, that I'll go and solicit matrimony with all my might and main.

Fond. Well, well, sir; as long as I believe it, 't is well enough. No thanks to you, sir, for her virtue. -But, I'll shew you the way out of my house, if you please. Come, my dear. Nay, I will believe thee, I do, I' feck.

Bell. See the great blessing of an easy faith; opinion

cannot err.

No husband, by his wife, can be deceiv'd,
She still is virtuous, if she's so believ'd.

ACT V. SCENE I.

The Street Enter BELLMOUR in a fanatic habit;
SETTER, HEARTWELL, and Lucy.

Bellmour.

SETTER! well encounter'd.

Set. Joy of your return, sir. Have you made a good voyage; or have you brought your own lading back?

Bell. No, I have brought nothing but ballast back

-"made a delicious voyage, Setter; and might

"have rode at anchor in the port till this time, but "the enemy surpris'd us”- -I would unrig.

Set. I attend you, sir.

Bell. Ha! Is not that Heartwell at Silvia's door;, Begone quickly, I'll follow you :- -I would not be known. Pox take 'em, they stand just in my way.

Heart. I'm impatient till it be done.

[Exit Set.

Lucy. That may be, without troubling yourself to go again for your brother's chaplain. Don't you see that stalking form of godliness?

Heart. Oh, ay, he's a fanatic.

Lucy. An executioner, qualified to do your business. He has been lawfully ordain'd.

Heart. I'll pay him well, if you 'll break the matter to him.

Lucy. I warrant you-Do you go and prepare your bride. [Exit Heart. Bell. Humph, sits the wind there?-What a lucky rogue am I! O, what sport will be here, if I can persuade this wench to secrecy?

Lucy. Sir; reverend sir.

Bell. Madam.

[Discovers himself.

Lucy. Now goodness have mercy upon me! Mr. Bellmour! is it you?

Bell. Even I, what dost think?

Lucy. Think that I should not believe my eyes,

and that you are not what you seem to be.

Bell. True. But to convince thee who I am, thou knowest my old token [Kisses her.

Lucy. Nay, Mr. Bellmour: O lard! I believe you are a parson in good earnest, you kiss so devoutly. Bell. Well, your business with me, Lucy?

Lury. I had none but through mistake.

Bell. Which mistake you must go through with, Lucy-Come, I know the intrigue between Heartwell and your mistress; and you mistook me for Tribulation Spintext, to marry 'em- -Ha! are not matters in this posture? -Confess; come, I'll be faithful; I will, i' faith.

me, Lucy?

-What, diffide in

Lucy. Alas-a-day! You and Mr. Vainlove, between you, have ruined my poor mistress: you have made a gap in her reputation! and can you blame her, if she make it up with a husband?

Bell. Well, is it as I say:

Lucy. Well, it is then: but you'll be secret ?

Bell. Phuh, secret, ay!- -And to be out of thy debt, I'll trust thee with another secret. Your mistress must not marry Heartwell, Lucy.

Lucy. How! O lord!

Bell. Nay, don't be in a passion, Lucy-I'll provide a fitter husband for her-Come, here's earnest of my good intentions for thee, too; let this mollify.

-[Gives her money.] Look you, Heartwell is my friend; and though he be blind, I must not see him fall into the snare, and wittingly marry a whore.

Lucy. Whore! I'd have you to know my mistress

scorns

Bell. Nay, nay; look you, Lucy: there are whores