Lady Dain. A little while. Lady Sad. Had she a great circle? Lady Dain. Extreme-I was not able to bear the breath of so much company. Lady Sad. You did not dine there? Lady Dain. Oh, I can't touch any body's dinner but my own!—and I have almost killed myself this week, for want of my usual glass of Tokay, after my ortolans and Muscovy duck eggs. Sir Sol. 'Sbud, if I had the feeding of you, I'd bring you, in a fortnight, to neck-beef, and a pot of plain bub. [Aside. Lady Dain. Then I have been so surfeited with the sight of a hideous entertainment to-day, at my lady Cormorant's, who knows no other happiness, or way of making one welcome, than eating or drinking: for, though she saw I was just fainting at her vast limbs of butcher's meat, yet the civil savage forced me to sit down, and heaped enough upon my plate to victual a fleet for an East India voyage. Lady Sad. How could you bear it? Ha, ha! Does your ladyship never go to the play? marry me, depend upon it. Do that, and I'll trouble you no more. Sir Sol. This fellow's abominable! He'll certainly have her. [Aside. Lady Dain. There's no depending upon your word, or else I might; for the last time I saw you, you told me then, you would trouble me no more. Care. Ay, that's true, madam; but to keep one's word, you know, looks like a tradesman. Sir Sol. Impudent rogue! But he'll have her. [Aside. Care. And is as much below a gentleman as paying one's debts. Sir Sol. If he is not hanged first. [Aside. Care. Besides, madam, I considered that my absence might endanger your constitution, which is so very tender, that nothing but love can save it; and so I would e'en advise you to throw away your juleps, your cordials, and slops, and take me all at once. Lady Dain. No, sir; bitter potions are not to be taken so suddenly. Care. Oh, to choose, madam; for, if you stand [Pressing her, Lady Dain. What mean you, sir? Care. To banish all your ails, and be myself your universal medicine. Lady Dain. Never, but when I bespeak it my-making of faces, and kicking against it, you'll but self; and, then, not to mind the actors; for it's increase your aversion, and delay the cure. common to love sights. My great diversion is, Come, come; you must be advised. in a reposed posture, to turn my eyes upon the galleries, and bless myself to hear the happy savages laugh; or when an aukward citizen crowds herself in among us, 'tis an unspeakable pleasure to contemplate her airs and dress: and they never 'scape me; for I am as apprehensive of such a creature's coming near me, as some people are when a cat is in the room. But the play is begun, I believe; and, if your ladyship has an inclination, I'll wait upon you. Lady Sad. I think, madam, we can't do better; and here comes Mr Careless most opportunely to squire us. Sir Sol. Careless! I don't know him; but my wife does, and that's as well. Enter CARELESS. Care. Ladies, your servant. Seeing your coach at the door, madam, made me not able to resist this opportunity to-to-you know, madam, there's no time to be lost in love. Sir Solomon, your servant. [Aside. Sir Sol. Well said! he'll have her. Lady Dain. Impudent, robust man! I protest, did not I know his family, I should think his pa rents had not lived in chairs and coaches, but had used their limbs all their lives! Hu! hu! but I begin to be persuaded health is a great blessing. [Aside. Care. My limbs, madam, were conveyed to me before the use of chairs and coaches; and it might lessen the dignity of my ancestors, not to use them as they did. Lady Dain. Was ever such a rude understanding, to value himself upon the barbarism of his forefathers! Indeed, I have heard of kings, that were bred to the plough, and, I fancy, you might descend from such a race; for you court as if you were behind one-Huh! huh! huh! To treat a woman of quality like an Exchange wench, and express your passion with your arms-unpolish Sir Sol. Oh, yours, yours, sir!A very im-ed man! pudent fellow; and I'm in hopes will marry her. Aside. Lady Dain. The assurance of this creature almost grows diverting: all one can do, can't make him the least sensible of a discouragement. Lady Sad. Try what compliance will do; perhaps that may fright him. Lady Dain. If it were not too dear a remedy -One would almost do any thing to get rid of his company. Care. Which you never will, madam, till you Care. I was willing, madam, to take from the vulgar the only desirable thing among them, and shew you-how they live so healthy-for they have no other remedy. Lady Dain. A very rough medicine! huh! huh! Care. To those that never took it, it may seem so Lady Dain. Abandoned ravisher! Oh! [Struggling. Sir Sol. He has her! he has ber! Aside. Lady Dain. Leave the room, and see my face to one man, you see; and if we should both no more. Care. [Bows, and is going.] Lady Dain. And, hark ye, sir, no bribe; no mediations to my woman. Care. [Bows, and sighs.] Lady Dain. Thou profligate! to hug! to clasp! to embrace, and throw your robust arms about me, like a vulgar and indelicate-Oh, I faint with apprehension of so gross an address! [She faints, and CARE. catches her. Care. Oh, my offended fair! Sir Sol. He has her! he has her! [Exeunt SIR SOL. and LADY SAD. Enter CLARINDA and SYLVIA. Cla. Well, cousin, what do you think of your gentleman now? Syl. I fancy, madam, that would be as proper a question to ask you: for, really, I don't see any great reason to alter my opinion of him yet. Cla. Now I could dash her at once, and shew it her, under his own hand, that his name's Standfast, and he'll be here in a quarter of an hour. [Aside.] I vow I don't think I ought to refuse you any service in my power; therefore, if you think it worth your while not to be out of countenance when the colonel comes, I would advise you to withdraw now; for, if you dare take his own word for it, he will be here in three minutes, as this may convince you. [Gives a letter Syl. What's here? a letter from colonel Standfast?-Really, cousin, I have nothing to say to him-Mr Freeman's the person I'm concerned for, and I expect to see him here in a quarter of an hour. Cla. Then you don't believe them both the same person? Syl. Not by their hands or style, I can assure you, as this may convince you. [Gives a letter. Cla. Ha! the hand is different indeed-I scarce know what to think-and yet I'm sure my eyes were not deceived. Syl. Come, cousin, let's be a little cooler; 'tis not impossible but we may have both laughed at one another to no purpose-for I am confident they are two persons. Cla. I can't tell that, but I'm sure here comes one of them. Enter ATALL as COLONEL STANDFAST. have fancy to have you particular, I doubt you'd make but bungling work on't. Atall. I warrant you we will pass our time like gods: two ladies and one man! the prettiest set for Ombre in the universe-Come, come! Cards, cards, cards! and tea-that I insist upon. Cla. Well, sir, if my cousin will make one, I won't baulk your good humour. [Turning SYL. to face him. Atall. Is the lady your relation, madam?— I beg the honour to be known to her. Cla. Oh, sir, that I'm sure she can't refuse you-Cousin, this is colonel Standfast. [Laughs. Aside.] I hope now she's convinced. Atall. Your pardon, madam, if I am a little particular in my desire to be known to any of this lady's relations. [Salutes. Syl. You'll certainly deserve mine, sir, by being always particular to that ladyAtall. Oh, madam !—Tall, lall. [Turns away, and sings. Syl. This assurance is beyond example. [Aside. Cla. How do you do, cousin? Syl. Beyond bearing-but not incurable. [Aside. Cla. [Aside.] Now can't I find in my heart to give him one angry word for his impudence to me this morning! the pleasure of seeing my rival mortified, makes me strangely good-natured. Atall. [Turning familiarly to CLA.] Upon my soul, you are provokingly handsome to-day! Ay, Gad! why is not it high treason for any beautiful woman to marry? Cla. What, would you have us lead apes? Atall. Not one of you, by all that's lovely!Do you think we could not find you better employment?Death! what a hand is here?— Gad, I shall grow foolish! Cla. Stick to your assurance, and you are in no danger. Atall. Why, then, in obedience to your commands, prithee, answer me sincerely one question: How long do you really design to make me dangle thus? Cla. Why, really, I can't just set you a time; but when you are weary of your service, come to me with a sixpence and modesty, and I'll give you a discharge. Atall. Thou insolent, provoking, handsome tyrant! Cla. Come, let me go-this is not a very civil way of entertaining my cousin, methinks. Atall. Hey! Bombard, (there they are, faith!) Atall. I beg her pardon indeed. [Bowing to bid the chariot set up, and call again about one SYL.] But lovers, you know, madam, may plead or two in the morningYou see, madam, what a sort of excuse for being singular, when the fa 'tis to give an impudent fellow the least encou-vourite fair's in company-But we were talking ragement: I'm resolved now to make a night on't of cards, ladies. with you. Cla. I'm afraid, colonel, we shall have much ado to be good company, for we are two women Cla. Cousin, what say you? Syl. I had rather you would excuse me; I am a little unfit for play at this time. Syl. I am satisfied. Atall. But pray, madam, why may you ask? Syl. I am too much disordered now to tell you. But, if I'm not deceived, I'm miserable! [Weeps. Atall. This is strange- -How her concern transports me! Cia. Her fears have touched me, and half persuade me to revenge them Come, cousin, be easy: I see you are convinced he is the same, and now I'll prove myself a friend. Syl. I know not what to think -my senses are confounded: their features are indeed the same; and yet there's something in their air, their dress, and manner, strangely different: but, be it as it will, all right to him in presence I disclaim, and yield to you for ever. Cla. No, cousin, believe it, both our senses cannot be deceived; he's individually the same; and, since he dares be base to you, he's miserable indeed, if flattered with a distant hope of me: I know his person and his falsehood both too well; and you shall see I will, as becomes your friend, resent it. Atall. What means this strangeness, madam? Cla. I'll tell you, sir; and, to use few words, know then, this lady and myself have borne your faithless insolence and artifice too long: but that you may not think to impose on me, at least, I desire you would leave the house, and from this moment never see me more. Atall. Madam! What! what is all this? For ever from thee, If I can divine what this riddle can be! Syl. Not moved! I'm more amazed. Atall. Pray, madam, in the name of common sense, let me know, in two words, what the real meaning of your last terrible speech was; and if I don't make you a plain, honest, reasonable answer to it, be pleased, the next minute, to blot my name out of your table-book, never more to be enrolled in the senseless catalogue of those vain coxcombs, that impudently hope to come into your favour. Cla. This insolence grows tedious: what end can you propose by this assurance? Atall. Hey-day! Syl. Hold, cousin- -one moment's patience: I'll send this minute again to Mr Freeman, and if he does not immediately appear, the dispute will need no farther argument. Atall. Mr Freeman! Who the devil's he? What have I to do with him? Syl. I'll soon inform you, sir. [Going, meets WISHWELL entering. Wish. Madam, here's a footman mightily out of breath, says he belongs to Mr Freeman, and desires very earnestly to speak with you. Syl. Mr Freeman! Pray bid him come in— What can this mean? Atall. You'll see presently. Re-enter WISHWELL with FINDER. Cla. Ha! [Aside. Syl. Come hither, friend: do you belong to M Freeman? Fin. Yes, madam, and my poor master gives his humble service to your ladyship, and begs your pardon for not waiting on you, according to his promise; which he would have done, but for an unfortunate accident. Syl. What's the matter? Fin. As he was coming out of his lodgings to pay his duty to you, madam, a parcel of fellows set upon him, and said they had a warrant against him; and so, because the rascals began to be saucy with him, and my master knowing that he did not owe a shilling in the world, he drew to defend himself, and, in the scuffle, the bloody villains run one of their swords quite through his arm; but the best of the jest was, madam, that as soon as they got him into a house, and sent for a surgeon, he proved to be the wrong person; for their warrant, it seems, was against a poor scoundrel, that happens, they say, to be very like him, one Colonel Standfast. Atall. Say you so, Mr Dog?If your master had been here, I would have given him as much. [Gives him a box on the ear. Fin. Oh, Lord! pray, madam, save me-I did not speak a word to the gentleman.-Oh, the devil! this must be the devil in the likeness of my master. Syl. Is this gentleman so very like him, say you? Fin. Like, madam! ay, as one box on the ear is like to another; only I think, madam, my master's nose is a little, little higher. Atall. Now, ladies, I presume the riddle's solved.- -Hark you, where is your master, rascal? Fin. Master, rascal! Sir, my master's name's Freeman, and I'm a free-born Englishman; and I must tell you, sir, that I don't use to take such arbitrary socks of the face from any man that does not pay me wages; and so my master will tell you too, when he comes, sir. Syl. Will he be here, then? Fin. This minute, madam; he only stays to have his wound dressed. Atall. I'm resolved I'll stay that minute out, if he does not come till midnight. Fin. A pox of his mettle!-when his hand's in, | confident rake in him to please me; but there is he makes no difference between jest and earnest, a modest sincerity in the other's conversation I find. If he does not pay me well for this, that's irresistible. 'egad he shall tell the next for himself. [Aside.] Has your ladyship any commands to my master, madam? Syl. Yes; pray give him my humble service; say I'm sorry for his misfortune; and if he thinks 'twill do his wound no harm, I beg, by all means, he may be brought hither immediately. Fin. 'Shah! his wound, madam! I know he does not value it of a rush; for he'll have the devil and all of actions against the rogues for false imprisonment, and smart-money-Ladies, I kiss your hands--Sir, I—nothing at all—[Exit. At. [Aside.] The dog has done it rarely! for a lie upon the stretch, I don't know a better rascal in Europe. Enter an Officer. Offi. Ay! now I'm sure I'm rightyour name Colonel Standfast, sir? At. Yes, sir; what then? Cla. For my part, I'm almost tired with his impertinence either way, and could find in my heart to trouble myself no more about him; and yet, methinks, it provokes me to have a fellow outface my senses. Syl. Nay, they are strangely alike, I own; but yet, if you observe nicely, Mr Freeman's features are more pale and pensive than the colonel's. Cla. When Mr Freeman comes, I'll be closer in my observation of him—in the mean time, let me consider what I really propose by all this rout I make about him: suppose (which I can never believe) they should prove two several men at last, I don't find that I'm fool enough to think of marrying either of them; nor (whatever airs I give myself) am I yet mad enough to do worse with them- -Well, since I don't design to come to a close engagement myself, then why should -Is not I not generously stand out of the way, and make room for one that would? No, I can't do that, neither-I want, methinks, to convict him first of being one and the same person, and then to have him convince my cousin that he likes me better than her-Ay, that would do! and to confess my infirmity, I still find (though I don't care for this fellow) while she has assurance enough to nourish the least hope of getting him from me, I shall never be heartily easy till she's heartily mortified. [Aside. Offi. Then you are my prisoner, sir— At. Your prisoner! who the devil are you? a bailiff? I don't owe a shilling. Offi. I don't care if you don't, sir; I have a warrant against you for high treason, and I must have you away this minute. At. Look you, sir, depend upon't, this is but some impertinent, malicious prosecution: you may venture to stay a quarter of an hour, I'm sure; I have some business here till then, that concerns me nearer than my life. Cla. Have but so much patience, and I'll satisfy you for your civility. Offi. I could not stay a quarter of an hour, madam, if you'd give me five hundred pounds. Syl. Can't you take bail, sir? Offi. Bail! no, no. Cla. Whither must he be carried! Syl. You seem very much concerned for the colonel's misfortune, cousin. Cla. His misfortunes seldom hold him long, as you may see; for here he comes. Enter ATALL as MR FREEMAN. At. I am sorry, madam, I could not be more punctual to your obliging commands; but the accident that prevented my coming sooner, will, I Offi. To my house, till he's examined before the hope, now give me a pretence to a better welcouncil. Cla. Where is your house? Offi. Just by the secretary's office; every body knows Mr Lockum the messenger-Come, sir. Al. I can't stir yet, indeed, sir. [Lays his hand on his sword. Offi. Nay, look you, if you are for that playCome in, gentlemen; away with him. Enter Musqueteers, and force him off. Syl. This is the strangest accident: I am extremely sorry for the colonel's misfortune; but I am heartily glad he is not Mr Freeman. Cla. I'm afraid you'll find him so— -I shall never change my opinion of him, till I see them face to face. Syl. Well, cousin, let them be two or one, I'm resolved to stick to Mr Freeman; for, to tell you the truth, this last spark has too much of the come than my last; for now, madam, [To CLAR.] your mistake's set right, I presume, and, I hope, you won't expect Mr Freeman to answer for all the miscarriages of Colonel Standfast. Cla. Not in the least, sir; the colonel's able to answer for himself, I find; ha, ha! At. Was not my servant with you, madam? [To SYL. Syl. Yes, yes, sir, he has told us all. [Aside.] And I am sorry you have paid so dear for a proof of your innocence. Come, come, I'd advise you to set your heart at rest; for what I design, you'll find, I shall come to a speedy resolution in. At. Oh, generous resolution! Cla. Well, madam, since you are so tenacious of your conquest, I hope you'll give me the same liberty: and not expect, the next time you fall a crying at the colonel's gallantry to me, that my good nature should give you up my pretensions to him. And for you, sir, I shall only tell you, this last plot was not so closely laid, but that a woman of a very slender capacity, you'll find, has wit enough to discover it. Exit CLA. follow me, as you'd preserve my friendship. Come [Exit with maid. At. Death! how this news alarms me! I never felt the pains of love before. Cle. Now, then, to ease, or to revenge, my fears At. So! she's gone to the messenger's, I suppose-but, poor soul, her intelligence there will-This sudden change of your countenance, Mr be extremely small. [Aside.] Well, madam, I hope at last your scruples are over. Syl. You cannot blaine me, sir, if, now we are alone, I own myself a little more surprised at her positiveness, than my woman's pride would let me confess before her face; and yet, methinks, there's a native honesty in your looks, that tells me I am not mistaken, and may trust you with my heart. At. Oh, for pity, still preserve that tender thought, and save me from despair! Enter CLERIMONT. Cle. Ha! Freeman again! Is it possible! At. How now, Clerimont? what are you surprised at? Cle. Why, to see thee almost in two places at one time; 'tis but this minute, I met the very image of thee with the mob about a coach, in the hands of a messenger, whom I had the curiosity to stop and call to, and had no other proof of his not being thee, but that the spark would not know me! Syl. Strange! I almost think I'm really not deceived. Cle. 'Twas certainly Clarinda I saw go out in a chair just now-it must be she-the circumstances are too strong for a mistake. [Aside. Syl. Well, sir, to ease you of your fears, now I dare own to you that mine are over. [To ATALL. Cle. What a coxcomb have I made myself, to serve my rival even with my own mistress! But 'tis at least some ease to know him: all I have to hope is, that he does not know the ass he has made of me-1 e—that might indeed be fatal to him. [Aside. Atalt, looks as if you had a mind to banter your friend into a belief of your being really in love with the lady that just now left you. At. Faith, Clerimont, I have too much concern upon me at this time, to be capable of a banter. Cle. Ha! he seems really touched, and I begin now only to fear Clarinda's conduct.—— Well, sir, if it be so, I'm glad to see a convert of you; and now, in return to the little services I have done you, in helping you to carry on your affair with both these ladies at one time, give me leave to ask a favour of you-Be still sincere, and we may still be friends. me. At. You surprise me-but use me as you find Cle. Have you no acquaintance with a certain lady, whom you have lately heard me own I was unfortunately in love with? At. Not that I know of; I'm sure not as the lady you are in love with: but, pray, why do you ask? Cle. Come, I'll be sincere with you, too: because I have strong circumstances that convince me 'tis one of those two you have been so busy about. At. Not she you saw with me, I hope? Cle. No; I mean the other-But, to clear the doubt at once, is her name Clarinda? At. I own it is: but had I the least been warned of your pretences Cle. Sir, I dare believe you; and though you may have prevailed even against her honour, your ignorance of my passion for her makes you stand at least excused to me. At. No; by all the solemn protestations tongue can utter, her honour is untainted yet for me; nay, even unattempted. Cle. You own she has received your gallantries at least? At. Faith, not to be vain, she has indeed taken some pains to pique her cousin about me; and if her beautiful cousin had not fallen in my way at the same time, I must own, 'tis very possible I might have endeavoured to push my fortune with her; but since I know your heart, put my friendship to a trial. Cle. Only this-if I should be reduced to ask it of you, promise to confess your imposture, and your passion to her cousin, before her face. At. There's my hand-I'll do't, to right my friend and mistress. But, dear Clerimont, you'll pardon me if I leave you here; for my poor incognita's affairs at this time are in a very critical condition. Cle. No ceremony-I release you. [Exeunt |