Of. Juft by the fecretary's office; every body knows Mr. Lockum the meffenger-Come, Sir.

At. I can't ftir yet, indeed, Sir.

[Lays his hand on his faword. Of. Nay, look you, if you are for that play-Comɑ in, gentlemen, away with him.

Enter Mufqueteers, and force him off.

Syl. This is the strangest accident: I am extremely forry for the Colonel's misfortune, but I am heartily glad he is not Mr. Freeman.

Clar. I'm afraid you'll find him fo1 fhall never change my opinion of him 'till I fee them face to face.

Sl. Well, coufin, let them be two or one, I'm resolved to stick to Mr. Freeman; for to tell you the truth, this laft fpark has too much of the confident rake in him to please me, but there is a modest fincerity in t'other's con-verfation that's irresistible.

Clar. For my part I'm almoft tired with his impertinence either way, and could find in my heart to trouble myfelf no more about him; and yet methinks it provokes me to have a fellow outface my fenfes.

Syl. Nay, they are strangely alike, Lown; but yet, if you obferve nicely, Mr. Freeman's features are more pale and penfive than the Colonel's.

Clar. When Mr. Freeman comes, I'll be clofer in myï obfervation of him-in the mean time let me confider what I really propofe by all this rout I make about him s fuppofe (which I can never belive) they fhould proves two feveral 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 worfe with them-Well, fince I don't defign to come to a close engagement myself, then why fhould I nor generoufly ftand out of the way, and make room for one that would? No, I can't do that neither I want methinks to convict him firft of being one and the fame perfon, and: then to have him convince my coufin that he likes me better than her-Ay, that would do! and to confefs my infirmity, I ftill find (though I don't care for this fellow) while fhe has affurance to nourish the leaft hope of getting him from me, I shall never be heartily eafy 'till the's heartily mortified.

Afide.

S

Syl. You feem very much concerned for the Colonel's misfortune, coufin.

Clar. His misfortunes feldom hold him long, as you may fee; for here he comes.

Enter Atall, as Mr. Freeman.

Syl. Blefs me!

At. I am forry, Madam, I could not be more punctual to your obliging commands: but the accident that prevented my coming fooner, will, I hope, row give me a pretence to a better welcome than my lait; 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 Standfaft.

Clar. Not in the least, Sir: the Colonel's able to anfwer for himself, I find! ha, ha!

At. Was not my fervant with you, Madam? [To Syl. Syl. Yes, yes, Sir, he has told us all. [Afide.] And I am forry you have paid fo dear for a proof of your innocence. Come, come, I'd advife you to fet your heart at reft; for what I defign, you'll find, I fhall come to a speedy refolution in.

-At. Oh, generous refolution!

Clar. Well, Madam, fince you are so tenacious of your conquest, I hope you'll give me the fame liberty: and not expect, the next time you fall a crying at the Colonel's gallantry to me, that my good-nature fhould give you up my pretenfions to him. And for you, Sir, I mall only tell you, this last plot was not fo closely laid, but that a woman of a very flender capacity, you'll find, has wit enough to discover it. [Exit Clar.

At. So! fhe's gone to the meffenger's, I fuppofe-but, poor foul, her intelligence there will be extremely small. Afide.] Well, Madam, I hope at last your scruples re

over.

Syl. You can't blame me, Sir, if, now we are alone, I I own myself a little more furprised at her pofitiveness, than my woman's pride would let me confefs before her face; and yet methinks there's a native honesty in your look, that tells me I am not mistaken, and may trust you with my heart.

At. Oh, for pity ftill preserve that tender thought, and fave me from defpair...

E 3

Enter

Cler. Ha! Freeman again! Is it poffible?

At. How now, Clerimont, what are you furprized at? Cler. Why to fee 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 ineffenger, whom I had the curiofity to stop and call to; and had no other proof of his not being thee, but that the fpark would not know me!.

Syl. Strange! I almost think I'm really not deceived. Gler. 'Twas certainly Clarinda I faw goo out in a chair just now it must be the the circumstances are too

ftrong for a mistake.

[Afide. Syl. Well, Sir, to eafe you of your fears, now I dare own to you, that mine are over.

[To Atall. Cler. What a coxcomb have I made myself, to serve my rival e'en with my own miftrefs? But 'tis at least fome eafe to know him: all I have to hope is, that he does not know the ass he has made of me that might indeed be fatal to him.

Enter Sylvia's Maid.

[Afide.

Maid. Oh, Madam, I'm glad I've found you: your father and I have been hunting you all the town over. S. My father in town?

Maid. He waits below in the coach for you: he muft needs have you come away this minute; and talks of having you married this very night to the fine gentleman he fpoke to you of.

Syl. What do I hear?

At. If ever foft compaffion touched your foul, give me a. word of comfort in this laft diftrefs, to fave me from the horrors that furround me.

. You fee we are obferved--but yet depend upon my faith, as on my life-in the mean time, I'll use my utmoft power to avoid my father's hafty will: in two hours you fhall know my fortune and my family-Nowdon't 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.

Cler. Now then to ease, or to revenge my fears-This fudden change of your countenance, Mr. Atall, looks as

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.

Cler. Ha! he feems really touched, and I begin now only to fear Clarinda's conduct- Well, Sir, if it be so, I'm glad to fee a convert of you; and now, in return to the little fervices I have done you, in helping you to carry on your affair with both thefe ladies at one time, give me leave to ask a favour of you-Be ftill fincere, and we may ftill be friends.

At. You furprize me-but ufe me as you find me."

Cler. 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 fure not as the lady you are in love with: but, pray, why do you ask?

Cler. Come, I'll be fincere with you too: because I have ftrong circumstances, that convince me 'tis one of thofe two you have been fo bufy about.

At. Not the you faw with me, I hope?

Cler. 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

Cler. Sir, I dare believe you; and though you may have prevailed even against her honour, your ignorance of my paffion for her makes you ftand at least excused to me."

At. No; by all the folemn proteftations tongue can utter, her honour is untainted yet for me; nay, even unattempted: nor had I ever an opportunity, that could' ⚫ encourage the moft diftant thought against it.'

6

Cler. You own fhe has received your gallantries at least. At. Faith, not to be vain, fhe has indeed taken fome' pains to pique her coufin about me; and if her beautiful coufin had not fallen in my way at the fame time, I must own, 'tis very poffible, I might have endeavoured to push my fortune with her; but fince I now know your heart, put my friendship to a trial.

Cler. Only this-If I fhould be reduced to afk it of.

you, promife to confefs your imposture, and your paffion to her coufin, before her face.

At. There's my hand,-I'll do't, to right my friend and miftrefs. 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.

Cler. No ceremony-I releafe you.-
At. Adieu.

END of the FOURTH ACT.,

[Exeunt.

A

A C T V.

Enter Clerimont and Careless.

CLERIMONT.

ND so you took the opportunity of her fainting to carry her off! Pray, how long did her fit laft? Care. Why, faith, I fo humoured her affectation, that 'tis hardly over yet; for I told her, her life was in danger, and fwore, if she would not let me fend for a parfon to marry her before he died, I'd that minute fend for a fhroud, and be buried alive with her in the fame coffin: but at the apprehenfion of fo terrible a thought, fhe pretended to be frightened into her right fenfes again; and forbid me her fight for ever. So that in fhort, my impudence is almost exhausted, her affectation is as unfurmountable as another's real virtue, and I muft e'en catch her that away, or die without her at last.

Cler. How do you mean?

Care. Why, if I find I can't impofe upon her by humility, which I'll try, I'll e'en turn rival to myself in a very fantastical figure, that I'm fure, fhe won't be able to refift. You must know he has of late been flattered that the Mufcovite Prince Alexander is dying for her, though he never fpoke to her in his life.

Cler. I understand you: fo you'd first venture to pique her against you, and then let her marry you in another perfon, to be revenged of you.

Care. One of the two ways I am pretty fure to fucceed. Cler. Extravagant enough! Pr'ythee, is Sir Solomon in the next room?

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