Smug. I knew, sir, what your powdering, your prinking, your dancing, and your frisking, would

come to.

Clin. sen. And I knew what your cozening, your extortion, and your smuggling would come to. Smug. Ay, sir, you must break your indentures, and run to the devil in a full-bottom wig, must you?

Clin. sen. Ay, sir, and you must put off your gravity, and run to the devil in petticoatsYou design to swing in masquerade, master, d'ye? Smug. Ay, you must go to the plays, too, sirrah: Lord, lord! what business has a 'prentice at a play-house, unless it be to hear his master made a cuckold, and his mistress a whore? It is ten to one now, but some malicious poet has my character upon the stage within this month: 'tis a hard matter, now, that an honest sober man cannot sin in private for this plaguy stage. I gave an honest gentleman five guineas myself towards writing a book against it; and it has done no good, we see.

Clin. sen. Well, well, master, take courage! Our comfort is, we have lived together, and shall die together; only with this difference, that I have lived like a fool, and shall die like a knave, and you have lived like a knave, and shall die like a fool.

Smug. No, sirrah! I have sent a messenger for my clothes, and shall get out immediately, and shall be upon your jury by and by-Go to prayers, you rogue, to prayers. [Exit. Clin. sen. Prayers! it is a hard taking when a man must say grace to the gallows-Ah, this cursed intriguing! Had I swung handsomely in a silken garter now, I had died in my duty; but to hang in hemp, like the vulgar, it is very ungenteel.

Enter TOм ERRAND.

A reprieve! a reprieve! thou dear, deardamned rogue. Where have you been? Thou art the most welcome-son of a whorewhere's my clothes?

Err. Sir, I see where mine are. Come, sir, strip, sir, strip!

Clin. sen. What, sir, will you abuse a gentleman?

Err. A gentleman! Ha, ha, ha!-d'ye know where you are, sir? We're all gentlemen here. I stand up for liberty and property. Newgate's a commonwealth. No courtier has business among us. Come, sir.

Clin. sen. Well, but stay; stay till I send for my own clothes: I shall get out presently. Err. No, no, sir, I'll ha' you into the dungeon, and uncase you.

Clin. sen. Sir, you cannot master me, for I am twenty thousand strong.

[Exeunt, struggling.

house.

Enter WILDAIR, with letters; Servants following.

Wild. Here, fly all around, and bear these as directed; you to Westminster, you to St. James's, and you into the city. Tell all my friends, a bridegroom's joy invites their presence. Look all of ye like bridegrooms also: all appear with hospitable looks, and bear a welcome in your faces. Tell them I am married. If any ask to whom, make no reply; but tell them, that I'm married; that joy shall crown the day, and love the night. Begone, fly!

Enter STANDARD.

A thousand welcomes, friend; my pleasure's now complete, since I can share it with my friend: brisk joy shall bound from me to you: then back again; and, like the sun, grow warmer by reflection.

Stand. You're always pleasant, sir Harry; but this transcends yourself: whence proceeds it?

Wild. Canst thou not guess, my friend? Whence flows all earthly joy? What is the life of man, and soul of pleasure? Woman.— What fires the heart with transport, and the soul with raptures?-Lovely woman.-What is the master-stroke and smile of the creation, but charming, virtuous woman?-When nature, in the general composition, first brought woman forth, like a flushed poet, ravished with his fancy, with ecstasy it blest the fair production!Methinks, my friend, you relish not my joy. What is the cause?

Stand. Canst thou not guess?—What is the bane of man, and scourge of life, but woman?—What is the heathenish idol man sets up, and is damned for worshipping? Treacherous woman.What are those, whose eyes, like basilisks, shine beautiful for sure destruction, whose smiles are dangerous as the grin of fiends, but false, deluding woman?-Woman, whose composition inverts humanity; their bodies heavenly, but their souls are clay.

Wild. Come, come, colonel, this is too much : I know your wrongs received from Lurewell may excuse your resentment against her. But it is unpardonable to charge the failings of a single woman upon the whole sex. I have found one, whose virtues

Stand. So have I, sir Harry; I have found one whose pride's above yielding to a prince. And if lying, dissembling, perjury and falsehood, be no breaches in a woman's honour, she is as innocent as infancy.

Wild. Well, colonel, I find your opinion grows stronger by opposition; I shall now, therefore, wave the argument, and only beg you, for this

Clin. Gentlemen and ladies, I'm just upon the spur, and have only a minute to take my leave.

Wild. Whither are you bound, sir?

Clin. Bound, sir! I ain going to the Jubilee, Sir.

Lady Dar. Bless me, cousin! how came you by these clothes ?

Clin. Clothes! ha, ha, ha! the rarest jest! ha, ha, ha! I shall burst, by Jupiter Ammon, I shall burst.

Lady Dar. What's the matter, cousin?

Clin. The matter! ha, ha, ha! Why an honest porter, ha, ha, ha! has knocked out my brother's brains, ha, ha, ha!

Wild. A very good jest, i'faith, ha, ha, ha! Clin. Ay, sir, but the jest of all is, he knocked out his brains with a hammer, and so he is as dead as a door-nail, ha, ha, ha!

Lady Dar. And do you laugh, wretch? Clin. Laugh! ha, ha, ha! let me see e'er a younger brother in England that won't laugh at such a jest.

Ang. You appeared a very sober, pious gentleman some hours ago.

Clin. Pshaw! I was a fool then: but now, madam, I'm a wit; I can rake now. As for your part, madam, you might have had me once; but now, madam, if you should fall to eating chalk, or gnawing the sheets, it is none of my fault. Now, madam-I have got an estate, and I must go to the Jubilee.

Enter CLINCHER senior in a blanket. Clin. sen. Must you so, rogue, must ye? You will go to the Jubilee, will you?

Clin. jun. A ghost! a ghost! Send for the dean and chapter presently.

Clin. sen. A ghost! No, no, sirrah, I'm an elder brother, rogue.

Clin. jun. I don't care a farthing for that; I'm sure you're dead in law.

Clin. sen. Why so, sirrah, why so?

Clin. jun. Because, sir, I can get a fellow to swear he knocked out your brains.

Wild. An odd way of swearing a man out his life!

of

Clin. jun. Smell him, gentlemen; he has a deadly scent about him.

Clin. sen. Truly the apprehensions of death may have made me savour a little. O, lord! the colonel! The apprehension of him may make the savour worse, I'm afraid.

Clin. jun. In short, sir, were you a ghost, or

Stand. Go to the jubilee! go to the bear-gar den. The travel of such fools as you doubly injures our country: you expose our native follies, which ridicule us among strangers, and return fraught only with their vices, which you vend here for fashionable gallantry: a travelling fool is as dangerous as a home-bred villain. Get you to your native plough and cart, verse with animals like yourselves, sheep and oxen men are creatures you don't understand.

con

Wild. Let them alone, colonel, their folly will be now diverting. Come, gentlemen, we'll dispute this point some other time; I hear some fiddles tuning; let's hear how they can entertain

us.

[A servant enters, and whispers WILDAIR. Wild. Madam, shall I beg you to entertain the company in the next room for a moment? [To LADY DARLING. Lady Dar. With all my heart-Come, gentle[Exeunt all but WILDAIR. Wild. A lady to inquire for me! Who can this be?

men.

Enter LUREWell.

Oh, madam, this favour is beyond my expectation- -to come, uninvited, to dance at my wedding.- -What d'ye gaze at, madam? Lure. A monster-If thou'rt married, thou'rt the most perjured wretch that e'er avouched deceit.

Wild. Heyday! Why, madam, I'm sure I never swore to marry you: I made, indeed, a slight promise, upon condition of your granting me a small favour; but you would not consent, you know.

Lure. How he upbraids me with my shame! Can you deny your binding vows, when this appears a witness against your falsehood? [Shews a ring.] Methinks the motto of this sacred pledge should flash confusion in your guilty face-Read, read here, the binding words of Love and Honour !-words not unknown to your perfidious tongue, though utter strangers to your treacherous heart.

Wild. The woman's stark staring mad, that's certain.

Lure. Was it maliciously designed to let me find my misery when past redress; to let me know you, only to know you false? Had not cursed chance shewed me the surprising motto, I had been happy-The first knowledge I had of you was fatal to me, and this second worse.

Wild. What the devil is all this! Madam, I'm not at leisure for raillery at present, I have weighty affairs upon my hands; the business of pleasure, madam: any other time

[Going.

Lure. Stay, I conjure you, stay. Wild. 'Faith, I can't, my bride expects me; but hark'e, when the honey-moon is over, about

Stand. Stay, madam, you need not shun my sight; for, if you are perfect woman, you have confidence to outface a crime, and bear the charge of guilt without a blush.

Lure. The charge of guilt! What, making a fool of you? I've done it, and glory in the act : the height of female justice were to make you all hang or drown: dissembling to the prejudice of men is virtue; and every look, or sign, or smile, or tear, that can deceive, is meritorious.

Stand. Very pretty principles, truly! If there be truth in woman, 'tis now in thee. Come, madam, you know that you're discovered, and, being sensible that you cannot escape, you would now turn to bay. That ring, madam, proclaims you guilty.

Lure. O, monster, villain! perfidious villain! Has he told you?

Stand. I'll tell it you, and loudly, too.

Lure. O, name it not !-Yet, speak it out; 'tis so just a punishment for putting faith in man, that I will bear it all; and let credulous maids, that trust their honour to the tongues of men, thus hear the shame proclaimed. Speak now, what his busy scandal, and your improving malice, both dare utter.

Stand. Your falsehood can't be reached by malice nor by satire; your actions are the justest libel on your fame; your words, your looks, your tears, I did believe in spite of common fame. Nay, 'gainst mine own eyes, I still maintained your truth. I imagined Wildair's boasting of your favours to be the pure result of his own vanity at last he urged your taking presents of him; as a convincing proof of which, you yesterday, from him, received that ring, which ring, that I might be sure he gave it, I lent him for that

:

purpose,

Lure. Ha! you lent it him for that purpose! Stand. Yes, yes, madam, I lent it him for that purpose- -No denying it-I know it well, for have worn it long, and desire you now, madam, to restore it to the just owner.

Lure. The just owner! Think, sir, think but of what importance 'tis to own it: if you have love and honour in your soul, 'tis then most justly yours; if not, you are a robber, and have stolen it basely.

Stand. Ha!-your words, like meeting flints, have struck a light to shew me something strange But tell me instantly, is not your real naine Manly?

Lure. And were not you about that time entertained two nights at the house of sir Oliver Manly, in Oxfordshire?

Stand. I was, I was. [Runs to her, and embraces her.] The blest remembrance fires my soul with transport---I know the rest—you are the charming she, and I the happy man.

Lure. How has blind fortune stumbled on the right! But, where have you wandered since?— 'Twas cruel to forsake me.

Stand. The particulars of my fortune are too tedious now: but, to discharge myself from the stain of dishonour, I must tell you, that imme diately upon my return to the university, my elder brother and I quarrelled: my father, to prevent farther mischief, posts me away to travel: I wrote to you from London, but fear the letter came not to your hands.

Lure. I never had the least account of you by letter or otherwise.

Stand. Three years I lived abroad, and at my return found you were gone out of the kingdom, though none could tell me whither: missing you thus, I went to Flanders, served my king till the peace commenced; then, fortunately going on board at Amsterdam, one ship transported us both to England. At the first sight I loved, though ignorant of the hidden cause- -You may remember, madam, that, talking once of marriage, I told you I was engaged; to your dear self I

meant.

Lure. Then, men are still most generous and brave and, to reward your truth, an estate of three thousand pounds a-year waits your acceptance; and, if I can satisfy you in my past conduct, and the reasons that engaged me to deceive all men, I shall expect the honourable performance of your promise, and that you will stay with me in England.

Stand. Stay! Nor fame nor glory e'er shall part us more. My honour can be nowhere more concerned than here.

Enter WILDAIR, ANGELICA, and both CLIN

Wild. Sir, he dares not shew his face among such honourable company; for your gracious nephew is

Smug. What, sir? Have a care what you say.
Wild. A villain, sir.

Smug. With all my heart. I'll pardon you the beating me for that very word. And pray, sir Harry, when you see him next, tell him this news from me, that I have disinherited himthat I will leave him as poor as a disbanded quarter-master. And this is the positive and stiff resolution of threescore and ten; an age that sticks as obstinately to its purpose, as to the old fashion of its cloak.

Wild. You see, madam, [To ANGEL.] how industriously fortune has punished his offence to you.

Ang. I can scarcely, sir, reckon it an offence, considering the happy consequence of it.

Smug. Oh, sir Harry, he is as hypocriticalLure. As yourself, Mr Alderman. How fares my good old nurse, pray, sir?

Smug. O, madam, I shall be even with you before I part with your writings and money, that I have in my hands.

Stand. A word with you, Mr Alderinan; do you know this pocket-book?

Smug. O lord, it contains an account of all my secret practices in trading. [Aside.] How came you by it, sir?

Stand. Sir Harry, here, dusted it out of your pocket at this lady's house yesterday. It conpains an account of some secret practices in your

merchandising; among the rest, the counterpart of an agreement with a correspondent at Bourdeaux, about transporting French wine in Spanish casks. First, return this lady all her writings; then I shall consider whether I shall lay your proceedings before the parliament or not, whose justice will never suffer your smuggling to go unpunished.

Smug. Oh, my poor ship and cargo !

Clin. sen. Hark'e, master, you had as good come along with me to the Jubilee now.

Ang. Come, Mr Alderman, for once let a woman advise: Would you be thought an honest man, banish covetousness, that worst gout of age: avarice is a poor, pilfering quality of the soul, and will as certainly cheat, as a thief would steal. Would you be thought a reformer of the times, be less severe in your censures, less rigid in your precepts, and more strict in your example.

Wild. Right, madam; virtue flows freer from
imitation than compulsion; of which, colonel,
your conversion and mine are just examples.
In vain are musty morals taught in schools,
By rigid teachers, and as rigid rules,
Where virtue with a frowning aspect stands,
And frights the pupil from its rough commands:
But woman-

Charming woman can true converts make,
We love the precept for the teacher's sake.
Virtue in them appears so bright, so gay,
We hear with transport, and with pride obey.
[Exeunt omnes.