'CY · SONG. I. Ynthia frowns when-e'er I oo to her, II. Pr'ythee, Cynthia, look behind you, * Mel. You shall have my thanks below. [To the mufick, they go out." Enter Sir Paul and Lady Plyant. Sir Paul. Gads-bud! I am provok'd into a fermentation, as my Lady Froth fays; was ever the like read of in fory?' L. P. Sir Paul, have patience; let me alone to rattle him up. Sir Paul. Pray your ladyfhip give me leave to be angry I'll rattle him up I warrant you. I'll teach him with a certiorari to make love to my wife. L. P. You teach him! I'll teach him myself and make him blush for his dishonourable notions of Lady Plyant's rectitude; fo pray, Sir Paul, leave him to me and hold you contented. Cynt. Blefs me, what makes my father in fuch a paffion?- -I never faw him thus before." Sir Paul. Hold yourfelf contented, my Lady PlyantI find paffion coming upon me even to defperation, as the philofopher fays; and I cannot fubmit as formerly, therefore give way. L. P. How now! will you be pleased to retire, andSir Paul. No marry will I not be pleased; I am pleafed to be angry, that's my pleasure at this time. 'Mel. What can this mean!' L. P. L. P. Gads my life, the man's distracted: why how Now, who are you? What am I? Slidikins can't I govern you? What did I marry you for? Am I not to be abfolute and uncontrollable? Is it fit a woman of my fpirit and conduct, fhould be contradicted in a matter of this concern? Sir Paul. It concerns me, and only me ;--Befides, I'm not to be govern'd at all times. When I am in tranquility, my Lady Plyant shall command Sir Paul; but when I am provok'd to fury, I cannot incorporate with patience and reafon,- as foon may tigers match with tigers, lambs with lambs, and every creature couple with its foe, as the poet fays. L. P. He's hot-headed ftill! 'Tis in vain to talk to you; but remember I have a curtain-lecture for you, you difobedient, headftrong brute. Sir Paul. No, 'tis because I won't be headstrong, because I won't be a brute, and have my head fortify'd, that I am thus exasperated,-But I will protect my honour, and yonder is the violator of my fame.. L. P. 'Tis my honour that is concern'd, and the violation was intended to me. Your honour! You have none but what is in my keeping, and I can difpofe of it when I please therefore don't provoke me. Sir Paul. Hum, gads-bud fhe fays trueWell, my lady, march on, I will fight under you then: I am convinced, as far as paffion will permit. [L. Plyant and Sir Paul come up to Mellefont. L. P. Inhuman and treacherous Sir Paul. Thou ferpent and first tempter of womankind.. Cynt. Blefs me! fir; madam; what mean you? Sir Paul. Thy, Thy, come away Thy, touch him not, come hither, girl, go not near him, there's nothing but deceit about him; fnakes are in his peruke, and the crocodile of Nilus is in his wicked appetite; he wou'd devour thy fortune and starve thee alive. L. P. Difhonourable, impudent creature! Mel. For Heav'n's fake, madam, to whom do you direct this language! L. P. L. P. Have I behav'd myself with all the decorum and nicety, befitting the perfon of Sir Paul's wife? Have I preferv'd my honour as it were in a fnow-house for thefe three years paft? Have I been white and unfully'd. even by Sir Paul himself? Sir Paul. Nay, he has been an invincible wife, even to me, that's the truth on't. L. P. Have 1, I fay, preferv'd myfelf, like a fair fheet of paper, for you to make a blot upon ? Sir Paul. And fhe fhall make a fimile with any woman in England. Mel. I am fo amaz'd, I know not what to say. Sir Paul. Do you think my daughter, this pretty creature; gads-bud fhe's a wife for a cherubin! Do you think her fit for nothing but to be a ftalking horfe, to ftand before you, while you take aim at my wife; gadsbud I was never angry before in my life, and I'll never be appeas'd again. Mel. Confufion! this is my aunt; fuch malice can be engendred no where else. [Afide. L. P. Sir Paul, take Cynthia from his fight; leave me to ftrike him with the remorfe of his intended crime. Cynt. Pray, fir, ftay, hear him, I dare affirm he's in nocent. Sir Paul. Innocent! Why! hark'ee, come hither, Thy, hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my fifter Touchwood,gads-bud he does not care a farthing for any thing of thee, but thy portion, why he's in love with my wife; he would have tantaliz'd thee, and made a cuckold of thy poor father,--and that would certainly have broke my heart- I'm fure if ever I should have horns, they would kill me; they would never come kindly, I should die of 'em, like a child, that was cutting his teeth I fhould indeed, Thy-therefore come away;' but Providence has prevented all, therefore come away, when I bid you. Cynt. I muft obey. [Exeunt Sir Paul and Cynthia. L. P. O, fuch a thing! the impiety of it startles meto wrong fo good, fo fair a creature, and one that loves you tenderly 'tis a barbarity of barbarities, and nothing could be guilty of it- Mel. Mel. But the greatest villain imagination can form I grant it; and next to the villainy of fuch a fact, is the villainy of afperfing me with the guilt. How? which way was I to wrong her? For yet I understand you not. L. P. Why, gads my life, coufin Mellefont, you cannot be fo peremptory as to deny it; when I tax you with it to your face; for now Sir Paul's gone, you are coram nobis. Mel. By Heav'n, I love her more than life, or L. P. Fiddle, faddle, don't tell me of this and that, and ev'ry thing in the world, but give me mathemacular demonftration, anfwer me directly-But I have not patience-Oh! the impiety of it, as I was faying, and the unparallel'd wickedness! O merciful father! How could you think to reverse nature so, to make the daughter the means of procuring the mother? Mel. The daughter to procure the mother! L. P. Ay, for tho' I am not Cynthia's own mother, I am her father's wife; and that's near enough to make it inceft. Mel. Inceft! O my precious aunt, and the devil in conjunction. [Afide. L. P. O reflect upon the horror of that, and then the guilt of deceiving every body; marrying the daughter, only to dishonour the bed of the father; and then feducing me, debauching my purity, and perverting me' from the road of virtue, in which I have trod thus long, and never made one trip, not one faux pas; O confider it, what would you have to answer for, if you 'fhould provoke me to frailty? Alas! humanity is feeble, Heav'n knows! very feeble, and unable to fupport itself.' Mel. Where am I? Is it day? and am I awake? madam L. P. And nobody knows how circumftances may happen together.To my thinking, now I could refift the ftrongest temptation,-But yet I know, 'tis impoffible for me to know whether I could or not, there's no certainty in the things of this life. Mel. Madam, pray give me leave to ask you one queftion. L. P. L.P. O Lord, afk me the question, I'll fwear, I'll fwear it; I fwear I'll deny it-therefore don't ask me, nay you shan't afk me, I swear I'll deny it. O Gemini, you have brought all the blood into my face; I warrant I am as red as a turkey-cock; O fy, coufin Mellefont! Mel. Nay, madam, hear me; I mean L. P. Hear you, no, no; I'll deny you first, and hear you afterwards. For one does not know how ones mind may change upon hearing.-Hearing is one of the fenfes, and all the fenfes are fallible; I won't trust my honour, I affure you; my honour is infallible and uncomatible. Mel. For Heav'n's fake, madam, L. P. O name it no more- -Bless me, how can you talk of Heav'n! and have fo much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't think it a fin.-They say some of you gentlemen don't think it a fin. May be it is no fin to them that don't think it fo;' indeed, if I did not think it a fin-But ftill my honour, if it were no fin, -But then, to marry my daughter, for the conveniency of frequent opportunities,-I'll never confent to that, as fure as can be, I'll break the match. Mel. Death and amazement.knees -Madam, upon my L. P. Nay, nay, rife up, come you fhall fee my goodnature. I know love is powerful, and no body can help his paffion: 'Tis not your fault; nor I fwear it is not mine,-How can I help it, if I have charms? And how can you help it, if you are made a captive? I swear it is pity it fhould be a fault,-But my honour,well, but your honour too, but the fin!-well but the neceffity.'-O lord, here's fomebody coming, I dare not stay. Well, you must confider of your crime; and ftrive as much as can be againft it,-ftrive be fure-But don't be melancholick, don't defpair.-But never think that I'll grant you any thing; O lord, no. -But be fure you lay afide all thoughts of the marriage, for tho' I know you don't love Cynthia, only as a blind for your paffion to me; yet it will make me jealous.-O lord, what did I fay? Jealous! no, no, I can't be jealous, for I must not love you,-therefore don't hope.-But don't despair neither.-O, they're coming, I must fly. [Exit. Mel. |