Cler. You cannot, if you wou'd—I wou'd indeed have won her fairly from you with my fword, but fcorn to take her as your gift. Be quick and end your infolence.-

-you

Clar. Yes, thus moft generous Clerimontnow indeed have fairly vanquish'd me. [Runs to him.] My woman's follies and my fhame be buried ever here. Cler. Ha! Clarinda! is't poffible! my wonder rifes with my joy-How came you in this habit?

Clar. Now you indeed recall my blushes, but I had no other veil to hide 'em, while I confefs'd the injuries I had done your heart, in fooling with a man I never meant on any terms to engage with. Befide, I knew from our late parting, your fear of lofing me wou'd reduce you to comply with Sir Solomon's demands, for his intereft in your favour: Therefore, as you faw, I was refolv'd to ruin his market by feeming to raise it ; for he fecretly took the offer I made him.

Cler. 'Twas generously and timely offer'd, for it really prevented my figning articles to him: but if you would heartily convince me that I fhall never more have need of his intereft, e'en let us fteal to the next priest, and honeftly put it out of his power ever to part us.

Clar. Why, truly confidering the trufts I have made you, 'twou'd be ridiculous now, I think, to deny you any thing and if you fhou'd grow weary of me after fuch ufage, I can't blame you.

Cler. Banish that fear; my flame can never waste, For love fincere refines upon the taste. [Exeunt. Enter Sir Solomon, with old Mr. Willfull: Lady Sadlife, and Sylvia sweeping.

Sir. Sol. Troth, my old friend, this is a bad business indeed; you have bound yourself in a thoufand pound bond, you fay, to marry your daughter to a fine gentleman, and the in the mean time, it feems, is fallen in love with a ftranger.

Will. Look you, Sir Solomon, it does not trouble me o' this: For I'll make her do as I please, or I'll farve her.

Lady Sad. But, fir, your daughter tells me that the gentleman fhe loves is in every degree in as good circumftances as the perfon you defign her for: and if he does not prove himself fo before to-morrow morning,

the

fhe will chearfully fubmit to whatever you'll impose on

her.

Will. All fham! all fham! only to gain time——I expect my friend and his fon here immediately, to demand performance of articles; and if her ladyfhip's nice ftomach does not immediately comply with 'em, as I told you before, I'll starve her.

Lady Sad. But confider, fir, what a perpetual discord must a forc'd marriage probably produce.

Will. Difcord! pfhaw! waw! One man makes as good a husband as another- -A month's marriage will fet all to rights, I warrant you-you know the old faying, Sir Solomon, lying together makes pigs love.

Lady Sad. [To Sylvia.] What fhall we do for you? there's no altering him-Did not your lover promise to come to your assistance ?

Syl. I expect him every minute-but can't foresee from him the leaft hope of my redemption

he!

Enter Atall undifguifed.

This is

At. My Sylvia! dry thofe tender eyes, for while there's life there's hope.

Lady Sad. Ha! is't he? but I must fmother my con. fufion!

gave you commiffion

Will. How, now, fir! Pray who to be fo familiar with my daughter?

At. Your pardon, fir; but when you know me right, you'll neither think my freedom or my pretenfions familiar or dishonourable.

Will. Why, fir, what pretenfions have you to her? At. Sir, I fav'd her life at the hazard of my own: That gave me a pretence to know her; knowing her made me love, and gratitude made her receive it.

Will. Ay, fir, and fome very good reasons, best known to myself, make me refuse it-Now what will you do? At. I can't tell yet, fir-But if you'll do me the favour to let me know thofe reafons

Will. Sir, I don't think myfelf oblig'd to do either; but I'll tell you what I'll do for you, fince you say yoa love my daughter, and fhe loves you, I'll put you in the nearest way to get her.

At. Don't flatter me! I beg you, fir.

Will. Not I, upon my foul, fir; for look you'tis only this -get my confent, and you fhall have her.

At. I beg your pardon, fir, for endeavouring to talk reafon to you. But to return your rallery, give me leave to tell you, when any man marries, her but myfelf, he muft extremely afk my confent.

Will. Before George, thou art a very pretty impudent fellow, and I'm forry I can't punish her difobedience by throwing her away upon thee.

At. You'll have a great deal of plague about this bufinefs, fir; for I fhall be mighty difficult to give up my pretenfions to her.

Will. Ha! 'tis a thoufand pities I can't comply with thee: Thou wilt certainly be a thriving fellow; for thou doft really fet the belt face upon a bad cause that ever I faw fince I was born.

At. Come, fir-once more, rallery apart; fuppose I prove myself of equal birth and fortune to deferve her?

Will. Sir, if you were eldest fon to the Cham of Tantary, or had the dominions of the Great Mogul entail'd upon you and your heirs for ever, it wou'd fignify no more than the bite of my thumb. -The girl's difpos'd of, I have match'd her already upon a thousand pounds forfeit, and faith fhe fhall fairly run for't, though she's yerk'd and flea'd from the crest to the crupper. At. Confufion!

Syl. What will become of me!

Will. And if you don't think me in earnest now, here comes one that will convince you of my fincerity. At. My father! Nay then my ruin is inevitable.

Enter Sir Harry Atall.

Sir Har. [To At.] O fweet fir, have I found you at laft! Your very humble fervant: What's the reafon pray, that you have had the affurance to be almost a fortnight in town, and never come near me? especially when I fent you word I had business of fuch confequence with you.

At. I understood your business was to marry me, fir, to a woman I never faw; and to confefs the truth, I durft not come near you, because I was at the fame time in love with one you never faw.

Sir Har. Was you fo, fir. why then, fir, I'll find a speedy

a fpeedy cure for your paffion-Brother Willful Hey, fiddles there!

A. You may treat me, fir, with what severity you pleafe; but my engagements to that lady are too powerful and fix'd to let the utmost misery diffolve 'em. Sir Har. What does the fool mean?

At. That I can fooner die than part with her. Will. Hey!-why, is this your fon, Sir Harry? Sir Har. Hey-dey! why, did not you know that before?

At. O earth! and all you ftars! is this the lady you defign'd me, fir?

Syl. O fortune, is it poffible?

Sir Har. And is this the lady, fir, you have been making such a bustle about?

At. Not life, health, or happiness are half fo dear to

me.

Sir Sol. Joining At. and Sylvia's hands.] —— loll! -loll, leroll!

At. O tranfprating joy! [Embracing Sylvia.]

Sir Har. Joining in the tune, and dancing about and Will. em.] loll! loll!

Sir Sol. Hey! within there! [Calls the fiddles.] by jingo we'll make a night on't.

Enter Clarinda and Clarimont.

Clar. Save you, fave you, good people! I'm glad, uncle, to hear you call fo chearfully for the fiddles, it looks as if you had a hufband ready for me.

Sir Sel. Why, that I may have by to-morrow night, madam; but in the mean time, if you please, you may with your friends joy.

Clar. Dear Sylvia!

Syl. Clarinda!

At. O Clerimont, fuch a deliverance!

Cler. Give you joy, joy, fir.

Clar. I congratulate your happiness-and am pleas'd our little jealoufies are over; Mr. Clerimont has told me all, and cur'd me of curiofity for ever.

Syl. What, married?

Clar. You'll fee prefently! but, Sir Solomon, what de you mean by to-morrow? why do you fancy I have any more patience than the rest of my neighbours ?

Sir Sol. Why truly, madam, I don't fuppofe you have; but I believe to-morrow will be as foon as their bufinefs can be done, by which time I expect a jolly foxhunter from Yorkshire, and if you are refolv'd not to have patience till next day, why the fame parfon may tofs you up all four in a difh together.

Clar. A filthy fox-hunter?

Sir Sol. Odzooks! a mettled fellow, that will ride you from day-break to fun-fet! none of our flimfy London rafcals, that muft have a chair to carry 'em to their coach, and a coach to carry 'em to a trapes, and a conftable to carry both to the round-house.

Clar. Ay, but this fox-hunter, Sir Solomon, will come home dirty and tir'd as one of his hounds, he'll be always afleep before he's a-bed, and on horfeback before he's awake; he must rise early to follow his sport, and I fit up late at cards for want of better diversion-Put this together, my wife uncle.

Sir Sol. Are you fo high fed, madam, that a country gentleman of fifteen hundred pounds a year won't go down with you?

Clar. Not fo, fir, but you really kept me fo sharp, that I was e'en forc'd to provide for myfelf, and here ftands the fox-hunter for my money.

Sir Sol. How!

[Claps Cler. on the shoulder.

Cler. Even fo, Sir Solomon-hark in your ear, fir! you really held your confent at fo high a price, that to give you a proof of my good husbandry I was refolv'd to fave charges, and e'en marry her without it.

Sir Sol. Hell! and

because I

Clar. And hark you in t'other ear, fir wou'd not have you expofe your reverend age by a miftake -Know, fir, I was the young spark with the fmooth face and a feather, that offer'd you a thoufand guineas for your confent, which you wou'd have been glad to have taken.

Sir Sol. The devil! if ever I traffick in women's flesh again, may all the bank-ftocks fall when I have bought em, and rife when I have fold 'em Hey-dey! what have we here! more cheats!

Cler. Not unlikely, fir-for I fancy they are married.

Enter