Lady Brute. Indeed I will.

Con. I'm sorry for it. Lady Fan. Indeed you shan't. Indeed, indeed, Lady Brute. I'm sorry to hear you say so. indeed, you shan't.

Con. Pray, why? [Erit Lady FANCYFUL, running; they follow. Lady Brute. Because, if you expected more

from it, you have a worse opinion of my underRe-enter LADY BRUTE.

standing than I desire you should have. Lady Brute. This impertinent woman has put Con. [Aside.] I comprehend ber: She would me out of humour for a fortnight

-What an

have me set a value upon her chastity, that I agreeable moment has her foolish visit interrupt- might think myself the inore obliged to her, when ed ! Lord, what a pleasure there is in doing what she makes me a present of it.--[To her.] I beg you we should not do!

will believe I did but rally, madam; I know you

judge too well of right and wrong, to be deceived Re-enter Constant.

by arguments like those. I hope you will have Ha! here again?

só favourable an opinion of my understanding, Con. Though the renewing my visit may seem too, to believe the thing called virtue has worth a little irregular, I hope I shall obtain your par- enough with me, to pass for an eternal obligadon for it, madam, when you know I only left tion, wherever it is sacrificed. the room, lest the lady, who was here, should Lady Brute. It is, I think, so great a one, as have been as malicious in her remarks, as she is nothing can repay. foolish in her conduct.

Con. Yes; the making the man you love your Lady Brute. He, who has discretion enough everlasting debtor. to be tender of a woman's reputation, carries a Lady Brute. When debtors once have borrowvirtue about him, that may atone for a great many ed all we have to lend, they are very apt to grow faults.

shy of their creditor's company Con. If it has a title to atone for any, its pre- Con. That, madam, is only when they are fortensions must needs be strongest, where the crime ced to borrow of usurers, and not of a generous is love. I therefore hope I shall be forgiven the friend. Let us chuse our creditors, and we are attempt I have made upon your heart, since my seldom so ungrateful as to shun them. enterprize has been a secret to all the world but Lady Brute. What think you of sir John, sir? yourself.

I was his free choice. Lady Brute. Secrecy, indeed, in sins of this Con. I think he is married, madam. kind, is an argument of weight to lessen the pu- Lady Brute. Does marriage, then, exclude men nishment; but nothing's a plea, for a pardon en- from your rule of constancy? tire, without a sincere repentance.

Con. It does. Constancy is a brave, free, Con. If sincerity in repentance consists in sor- haughty, generous agent, that cannot buckle to row for offending, no cloister ever inclosed so true the chains of wedlock. a penitent as I should be. But I hope it cannot Lady Brute. Have you no exceptions to this be reckoned an offence to love, where it is a du- general rule, as well as to the other? ty to adore.

Con. Yes, I would, after all, be an exception Lady Brule. 'Tis an offence, a great one, to it myself, if you were frce in power and will where it would rob a woinan of all she ought to to make me so. be adored for, her virtue.

Lady Brute. Compliments are well placed, Con. Virtue !

—Virtue, alas! is no more like where it is impossible to lay hold on them. the thing that's called so, than 'tis like vice it- Con. I would to Heaven it were possible for self.

you to lay hold on mine, that you might see it is Lady Brute. If it be a thing of so very little no compliment at all. But since you are already value, why do you so earnestly recommend it to disposed of, beyond redemption, to one who does your wives and daughters ?

not know the value of the jewel you have put inCon. We recommend it to our wives, madam, to his hands, I hope you would not think him because we would keep them to ourselves; and greatly wronged, though it should sometimes be to our daughters, because we would dispose of looked on by a friend, who knows how to esteem them to others.

it as he ought. Ludy Brute. It is, then, of some importance, Lady Brute. If looking on it alone would serve it seems, since you can't dispose of them without his turn, the wrong, perhaps, might not be very

great. Con. That importance, madam, lies in the hu- Con. Why, what if he should wear it now and mour of the country, not in the nature of the then a day, so he gave good security to bring it thing. Pray, what does your ladyship think of home again at night? a powdered coat for deep mourning?

Ludy Brute. Small security, I fancy, might Lady Brute. I think, sir, your sophistry has serve for that. One might venture to take his all the effect, that you can reasonably expect it word. should have; it puzzles, but don't convince. Con. Then, where's the injury to the owner?


it one.

Lady Brute. It is an injury to him, if he think | Confusion to all order! Here's liberty of con

For if happiness be seated in the mind, science. unhappiness must be so, too.

All. Huzza! Con. Here I close with you, madam, and draw Lord Rake. Come, sing the song I made this my conclusive argument from your own position: morning. [Lord Rake. Rep.) And in peace I'll If the injury lie in the fancy, there needs nothing jog on to the devil. Well, how do you like it, but secrecy to prevent the wrong.

gentlemen ? Lady Brute. (Going.] A surer way to prevent All. Oh, admirable ! it, is to hear no more arguments in its behalf. Sir John. I would not give a fig for a song that Con. Following her. But, madam

is not full of sin and impudence. Lady Brute. But, sir, it is my turn to be dis- Lord Rake. Then my muse is to your taste. creet now, and not suffer too long a visit. But drink away; the night steals upon us; we

Con. [Catching her hand.] By Heaven! you shall want time to be lewd in. Hey, page, sally shall not stir, till you give me hopes, that I shall out, sirrah, and see what's doing in the camp; see you again at some more convenient time and we'll beat up their quarters presently. place.

Page. I'll bring your lordship an exact acLady Brute. I give you just hopes enough—count.

[Erit Page. [Breaking from him.] to get loose from you; and Lord Rake. Now let the spirit of Clary go that's all I can afford you at this time.

round. Here's to our forlorn hope. Courage,

(Erit running. knight, victory attends you. Con. Now, by all that's great and good, she is Sir John. And laurels shall crown me- -Drink a charming woman! In what ecstacy of joy has away, and be damned. she left me! For she gave me hope, did she not Lord Rake. Again, boys; t'other glass, and say she

gave me hope? Hope ! Ay; what hope damn morality. -enough to make me let her go

-Why, that's

Sir John. (drunk.] Ay-damn morality-and enough, in conscience. Or, no matter how it was damn the watch. And let the constable be mar spoke-Hope was the word; it came from her, ried. and it was said to me.

All. Huzza !

Re-enter Page. Ha, Heartfree! Thou hast done me noble service, in prattling to the young gentlewoman with- Lord Rake. How are the the streets inhabitout there : 'Come to my arms, thou venerable ed, sirrah? bawd, and let me squeeze thee, (Embracing him Page. My lord, 'tis sunday-night, they are full eagerly.] as a new pair of stays does a fat coun- of drunken citizens. try girl, when she is carried to court to stand for Lord Rake. Along, then, boys! we shall have a a maid of honour.

feast. Heart. Why, what the devil is all this rapture Col. Bully. Along, noble knight. for?

Sir John. Ay-along, Bully; and he that says Con. Rapture! There is ground for rapture, sir John Brute is not as drunk, and as religious as man; there is hopes, my Heartfree; hopes, my the drunkennest citizen of them all-is a liar, and friend!

the son of a whore. Heart. Hopes! of what?

Col. Bully. Why, that was bravely spoke, and Con. Why, hopes that my lady and I together like a free-born Englishman. (for it is more than one body's work) should make Sir John. What's that to you, sir, whether I sir John a cuckold.

am an Englishman or a Frenchman? Heart. Prithee, what did she say to thee? Col. Bully. Zoons, you are not angry, sir?

Con. Say! What did she not say? She said, Sir John. Zoons, I am angry, sirfor if I'm a that-says she-she said—Zoons, I don't know freeborn Englishman, what have you to do, eren what she said; but she looked as if she said every to talk of my privileges ? thing I'd have her; and so, if thou wilt go to the Lord Rake. Why, prithee, knight, don't quartavern, I'll treat you with any thing, that gold can rel here; leave private animosities to be decided buy; I'll give all my silver amongst the drawers, by day-light; let the night be employed against make a bonfire before the door ; say the pleni- the public enemy; po's have signed the peace, and the bank of Eng- Sir John. My lord, I respect you, because you land's grown honest.

(Ereunt. are a man of quality. But I'll make that fellow

know I am within a hair's breadth as absolute by SCENE II.

my privileges, as the king of France is by his pre LORD Rake, Sir John, &c. at a table, drinking. where it is not his due; I, by my privilege, re

rogative. He, by his prerogative, takes money, All. Huzza!

fuse paying it, where I owe it. Liberty and proLord Rake. Come boys, charge again-S0-perty, and Old England-Huzza!

All. Huzza!

Lady Brute. Yet, methinks, I would fain stay [Erit Sın Joun reeling, all following him. a little longer, to see you fixed, too, that we might

start together, and see who could love longest. SCENE III.- A bed-chamber.

What think you, if Heartfree should have a

month's mind to you? Enter LADY BRUTE and BELINDA.

Bel. Why, faith, I could almost be in love with Lady Brute. Sure 'its late, Belinda; I begin to hiin, for despising that foolish, affected lady Fanbe sleepy.

cyful; but I'm afraid he is too cold ever to warm Bel. Yes, 'tis near twelve. Will you go to bed himself by my fire.

Lady Brute. To bed, my dear! And by that Lady Brute. Then he deserves to be froze to time I am fallen into a sweet sleep, (or perhaps a death. Would I were a man for your sake, dear sweet dream, which is better and better) sir John rogue ! [Kissing her.] will come home roaring drunk, and be overjoyed Bel. You'd wish yourself a woman for your he finds me in a condition to be disturbed. own, or the men are mistaken. But if I could

Bel. O, you need not fear bim; he is in for all inake a conquest of this son of Bacchus, and rival night. The servants say he is gone to drink with bis bottle, what should I do with him? He has my lord Rake.

no fortune; I can't marry him; and sure you Lady Brute. Nay, 'tis not very likely, indeed, would not have me-do I don't know what with such suitable company should part presently. him. What hogs men turn, Belinda, when they grow Lady Brute. Why, if you did, child, it would weary of women !

be but a good friendly part; if it were only to Bel. And what owls they are, whilst they are keep me in countenance, whilst I play the fool fond of them!

with Constant. Lady Brute. But that we may forgive well Bel. Well, if I can't resolve to serve you that enough, because they are so upon our accounts. way, I may perhaps some other, as much to your But, prithee, one word of poor Constant before satisfaction. But pray, how shall we contrive to we go to bed, if it be but to furnish matter for see these blades again quickly? dreams: I dare swear he is talking of me now, Lady Brute. We must e'en have recourse to the or thinking of me, at least.

old way; make them an appointment betwixt jest Bel. So he ought, I think; for you were plea- and earnest: it will look like a frolick; and that, sed to make him a good round advance to-day, you know, is a very good thing to save a woman's madain.

blushes. Lady Brute, Why, I have even plagued hiin Bel. You advise well; but where shall it be? enough to satisfy any reasonable woman : He has Lady Brute. In Spring Garden.

But they besieged me these two years to no purpose. shan't know their svomen, till they pull off their

Bel. And if he besieged you two years more, masks; for a surprise is the most agreeable thing he'd be well enough paid, so he had the plunder- in the world: And I find anyself in a very good ing of you at last.

humour, ready to do them any good turn I can Lady Brute. That may be; but I'm afraid the think on. town won't be able to hold out much longer : for, Bel. Then, pray write them the necessary bilto confess the truth to you, Belinda, the garrison let, without farther delay. begins to grow mutinous.

Lady Brute. Let's go into your chamber, then; Bel. Then the sooner you capitulate, the bet- and whilst you say your prayers, I'll do it, child.




SCENE I.-Covent Garden,

tisfied; for I'll sacrifice a constable to it present

ly, and burn his body upon his wooden chair. Enter LORD Rake, Sir John, &c. with swords

Enter a Tailor, with a bundle under his arm. drawn.

Col. Bully. How now? what have we got here? Lord Rake. Is the dog dead?

a thief? Col. Bully. No, damn him; I heard him wheeze.

Tai. No, an't please you, I'm no thief. Lord Rake. How the witch his wife howled ! Lord Rake. That we'll see presently: Here,

Col. Bully. Ay, she'll alarm the watch pre- let the general examine him. sently.

Sir John. Ay, ay, let me examine him, and I'il Lörd Rake. Appear, knight, then; come, you lay a hundred pounds I find him guilty in spite of have a good cause to fight for; there's a man mur- his teeth ;; for he looks like a-sneaking rascal. dered.

Come, sirrah, without equivocation or mental reSir John. Is there? then let his ghost be sa- servation, tell me of what opinion you are, and VOL. II.


-Yes, 'tis

what calling; for by them-I shall guess


your Sir John. The constable's a rascal ! and you morals.

are a son of a whore ! Tai. An't please you, I'm a dissenting journey- Watch. A most noble reply, truly! If this be man tailor.

her royal style, I'll warrant her maids of honour Sir John. Then, sirrah, you love lying by your prattle prettily: But we'll teach you some of our religion, and theft by your trade: And so, that court-dialect, before we part with you, princess your punishments may be suitable to your crimes Away with her to the round-house. -I'll have you first gagged—and then hanged. Sir John. Hands off, you ruffians! My ho

Tui. Pray, good worthy gentleman, don't abuse nour's dearer to me than my life; I hope you me! indeed I'm an honest inan, and a good work-won't be uncivil. man, though I say it, that should not say it. Watch. Away with her.

[Ereunt. Sir John. No words, sirrah, but attend your fate.

SCENE II.-A bed-chamber.
Lord Ruke. Let me see what's in that bundle.
Tai. An't please you, it's my lady's short cloak

Enter HEARTFREE. and wrapping gown.

What the plague ails me?-Love? No, I thank Sir John. What lady, you reptile, you? you for that, my heart's rock stillTai. My lady Brute, an't please your honour. Belinda that disturbs me, that's positiveSir John. My lady Brute! my wite! the robe Well, what of all that? Must I love her for beof my wife--' with reverence let me approach ing troublesome? At that rate, I might love all it. The dear angel is always taking care of me the women I meet, 'egad. But hold though in danger, and has sent me this suit of armour to I don't love her for disturbing me, yet she may protect me in this day of battle-on they go. disturb me, because I love her- -Ay, that inay All. () brave kn.ght!

be, faith! I have dreamt of her, that's certain Lord Rake. Live Don Quixotte the second ! Well, so I have of my mother; therefore, what's

Sir John. Sancho, my 'squire, help me on with that to the purpose ? Ay, but Belinda runs in my my armour.

mind waking--and so does many a damned Tai. () dear gentlemen! I shall be quite un- thing, that I don't care a farthing for Me done if you take the sack.

thinks, though, I would fain be talking to her, Sir John. Retire, sirrah! and since you carry and yet I have no business_Well, am I the first off your skin, go home, and be happy. So! how man that has had a mind to do an impertinent d'ye like my shapes now?

thing? Lord Rake. To a miracle! He looks like a queen of the Amazons-But to your arins, gen

Enter CONSTANT. tlemen! The enemy's upon their march-here's Con. How now, Heartfree? What makes you the watch

up and dressed so soon? I thought none but Sir John. 'Oons! if it were Alexander the lovers quarrelled with their beds; I expected to Great, at the head of his army, I would drive him have found you snoring, as I used to do. into a horse-pond.

Heart. Why, faith, friend, 'tis the care I have All, Huzza ! O brave knight!

of your affairs, that makes me so thoughtful.

I have been studying all night how to bring your Enter Watchmen.

matter about with Belinda, Sir John. See! Here he comes, with all his Con. With Belinda! Greeks about bim

Heurt. With my lady, I mean : And, faith, I Watch. Hey-day! Who have we got here! have mighty hopes of it

. Sure you must be vory Stand.

well satisfied with her behaviour to you yesterSir John. May-hap not.

day? Watch. What are you all doing here in the Con. So well, that nothing but a lover's fears streets at this time o'night? And who are you, can make me doubt of success. But what can wadam, that seems to be at the head of this now this sudden change proceed from? ble crew?

Heart. Why, you saw her husband beat her, Sir John. Sirrahı, I'm Bonduca, queen of the did you not? Welchmen; and with a leek as long as iny pedi- Con. That's true : A husband is scarce to be gree, I will destroy your Roman legion in an in- borne upon any terms, much less when he fights stant-Britons, strike home!

with his wife.' Methinks, she should e'en have (Snatches a watchman's staff, strikes at cuckolded him upon the yery spot, to shew, that

the watch, and falls down, his party after the battle she was master of the field. drove off.).

Heart. A council of war of women would inWatch. So! We have got the queen, however. fallibly have advised her to it. But, I confess, We'll make her pay well for her ransom-Come, so agreeable a woman as Belinda deserves better madam, will your majesty please to walk before usage. the constable

Con. Belinda again!



Heart. My lady, I mean. What a pox makes you tremble justly. But how do you intend to ne blunder so to-day? [Aside.] A plague of this proceed, friend? treacherous tongue.

Heart, Thou know'st I'm but a novice; be Con. Pr’ythee look upon me seriously, Heart-friendly, and advise me. free-Now answer me directly: Is it my lady, Con. Why, look you then; I'd have you, or Belinda, einploys your careful thoughts thus? Serenade and a-write a song-Go to church; Heart. My lady, or Belinda?

look like a fool-be very officious : Ogle, write Con, In love, by this light! in love.

and lead out: And who knows, but in a year or Heart. In love!

two's time, you inay be--called a troublesome Con. Nay, ne'er deny it; for thou'lt do it so puppy, and sent about


business. awkwardly, 'twill but make the jest sit heavier Heart. That's hard. about thee. My dear friend, I give thee much Con. Yet thus it oft falls out with lovers, sir. joy.

Heurt, Pux on me for making one of the Heart. Why, pr’ythee, you won't persuade me nuinber! to it, will you?

Con. Have a care ; say no saucy things; 'twill Con. That she's mistress of your tongue, that's but augment your crime; and if your mistress plain ; and I know you are so honest a fellow, hears on't, increase your punishment. your tongue and heart always go together. But Heart. Prythee say something then to encouhow-but how the devii ? Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

-rage me; you know I helped you in your dis Heart. Hey-day! Why sure you don't believe it in earnest

Con. Why, then, to encourage you to perseCon. Yes, I do, because I see you deny it in verance, that you may be thoroughlv ill used for jest.

vour offences, I'll put you in mind, that even the Heart. Nay, but look you, Ned— -a-de-coyest ladies of them all are made up of desires, ny in jest -a -gadzooks, you know I say as well as we; and though they do hold out a when a man denys a thing in jest long time, they will capitulate at last. For that

thundering engineer, Nature, does make such Con. Pha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

havoc in the town, they must surrender at the Heart. Nay, then, we shall have it : What, long-run, or perish in their own flames. because a man stumbles at a word! Did you never make a blunder?

Enter FootMAN. Con. Yes; for I am in love, I own it.

Foot. Sir, there's a porter without, wi h a let, Heart. Then, so am I--Now laugh till thy ter; he desires to give it into your own hands. soul's glutted with mirth, ( Embracing him.] But, Con. Call him in. dear Constant, don't tell the town on't. Con. Nay, then, 'twere almost pity to laugh

Enter Porter, at thee, after so bonest a confession. But tell us What, Joe! Is it thee? a little, Jack, by what new invented arins has this Por. An't please you, sir, I was ordered to mighty stroke been given?

deliver this into your own hands, by two wellHeart. E'en by that unaccountable weapon, shaped ladies at the New Exchange. I was at called je-ne sçai-quoi: For every thing, that can your honour's lodgings, and your servants sent come with in the verge of beauty, I have seen it

me hither. with inditterence.

Con. 'Tis well; are you to carry any answer? Con. So, in few words then, the je-ne sçai- Por. No, my noble master! quoi has been too hard for the quilted petticoat. Con. Very well; there. [Gives him money.

Heart. 'Egad, I think the je-ne sçai-quoi is in Por. God bless your honour! (Erit Porier. the quilted petticoat; at least 'tis certain, I ne'er Con. Now let's see what honest, trusty Joe think on't without-a-a je-ne sçai-quoi in every has brought us,

[Reads. part about me.

Con. Well, but have all your remedies lost If you and your play-fellow can spare time their virtue! Have you turned her inside out ' from your business and devotions, don't fail to

* be at Spring Garden about eight in the evening, Heart. I dare not so much as think on't. " You'll find nothing there but women, so you

Con. But don't the two years fatigue I have need bring no other arms than what you usually had, discourage you?

carry about you, Heart. Yes: I dread what I foresee; yet cannot quit the enterprize. Like some soldiers, | So, play-fellow : here's something to stay your whose courage dwells more in their honour than stomach, till your mistress's dish is ready for you. their nature : On they go, though the body trein- Heart. Some of our old battered acquaintbles at what the soul makes it undertake, ance; I won't go, not I.

Con. Nay, if you expect your mistress will use Con. Nay, that you can't avoid; there's honourin you, as your profanations against her sex deserve, the case ; 'tis a challenge, and I want a second,


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