The SCENE changes to a Field.

Enter Clarinda and Clerimont.

Cler. Come, Sir, we are far enough.

Clar. I only wish the lady were by, Sir, that the conqueror might carry her off the fpot-I warrant fhe'd be mine.

Cler. That, my talking hero, we shall foon determine. Clar. Not that I think her handfome, or care a rush for her.

Cler. You are very mettled, Sir, to fight for a woman you don't value.

Clar. Sir, I value the reputation of a gentleman; and I don't think any young fellow ought to pretend to it, till he has talked himself into a lampoon, loft his two or three thousand pounds at play, kept his miss, and killed his man.

Cler. Very gallant, indeed, Sir! but if you please to handle your fword, you'll foon go through your courfe. Clar. Come on, Sir-I believe I shall give your mistress a truer account of your heart than you have done. I have had her heart long enough, and now will have yours.

Cler. Ha! does fhe love you, then?

[Endeavouring to draw. Clar. I leave you to judge that, Sir. But I have lain with her a thousand times; in fhort, fo long, till I'm tired of it.

Cler. Villain, thou lieft! Draw, or I'll ufe you as you deferve, and ftab you.

Clar. Take this with you firft, Clarinda will never marry him that murders me.

Cler. She may the man that vindicates her honourtherefore be quick, or I'll keep my word.

fword is not for doing things in hafte.

I find your

Clar. It flicks to the fcabbard fo, I believe I did not

wipe off the blood of the last man I fought with.

Cler. Come, Sir, this trifling fhan't ferve your turnHere, give me yours, and take mine..

Clar. With all my heart, Sir-Now have at you.

[Cler. draws, and finds only a hilt in his band. Cler. Death! you villain, do you serve me fo?

Clar.

Clar. In love and war, Sir, all advantages are fair: fo we conquer, no matter whether by force or ftratagemCome, quick, Sir-Your life or mistress.

Cler. Neither. Death! you fhall have both or none ! Here drive your fword; for only through this heart you reach Clarinda.

Clar. Death, Sir! can you be mad enough to die for a woman that hatės you ?

Cler. If that were true, 'twere greater madness, then, to live.

Clar. Why, to my knowledge, Sir, fhe has used you bafely, falfly, ill, and for no reafon.

Cler. No matter; no usage can be worse than the contempt of poorly, tamely parting with her. She may abufe her heart by happy infidelities; but 'tis the pride of mine to be even miferably constant.

Clar. Generous paffion! You almost tempt me to refign her to you.

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

Clar. Yes, thus-Moft generous Clerimont, you now, indeed, have fairly vanquished me! [Runs to him.] My woman's follies and my fhame be buried ever here.

Cler. Ha, Clarinda! Is it 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 them, 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 would reduce you to comply with Sir Solomon's demands, for his interest in your favour. Therefore, as you faw, I was refolved to ruin his market, by feeming to raise it; for he fecretly took the offer I made him.

Cler. 'Twas generoufly and timely offered; 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 ut steal 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, 'twould be ridiculous now, I think, to deny you any

F 2

thing:

thing: and if you fhould

ufage, I can't blame you.

grow weary. of me after fuch

Cler. Bamish that fear; my flame can never waste, For love fincere refines upon the taste.

[Exeunt. Enter Sir Solomon, with old Mr. Wilful; Lady Sadlife, and Sylvia weeping.

Sir Sel. Troth, my old friend, this is a bad business indeed; you have bound yourself in a thousand pounds 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.

Wilf. Look you, Sir Solomon, it does not trouble me o' this; for I'll make her do as I please, or I'll starve her. Lady S d. But, Sir, 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, fhe will chearfully fubmit to whatever you'll impofe on her.

Wilf. 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 Ladyship's nice stomach does not immediately comply with them, as I told you before,. I'll farve her.

Lady Sad. But; confider, Sir, what a perpetual difcord muft a forced marriage probably produce.

Wilf. Difcord! pfhaw, waw! One man makes as good a hufband 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 Syl.] What hall we do for you? There's no altering him. Did not your lover promise to come to your affistance ?

Syl. I expect him every minute; but can't forefee from him the leaft hope of my redemption-This is he. Enter Atall undisguised.

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 confufion.

Afide. Wilf. How now, Sir! Pray, who gave you commiffion to be fo familiar with my daughter?

At. Your pardon, Sir; but when you know me right,

you'l

you'll neither think my freedom or my pretenfions familiar or difhonourable.

Wilf. Why, Sir, 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.

Wilf. Ay, Sir! and fome very good reasons, best known to myself, make me refufe it. Now, what will you do? At. I can't tell yet, Sir; but if you'll do me the favour to let me know those reasons

Wilf. Sir, I don't think myself obliged to do either; but I'll tell you what I'll do for you: fince you fay you love my daughter, and she loves you, I'll put you in the nearest way to get her.

At. Don't flatter me, I beg you, Sir.

Wilf. Not I, upon my foul, Sir; for, look you,

'tis on

ly this -get my consent, and you fhall have her.

At. I beg your pardon, Sir, for endeavouring to talk reason to you. But, to return your raillery, give me leave to tell you, when any man marries her but myself, he muft extremely ask my confent.

Wilf. 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, Sir; for I fhall be mighty difficult to give up my pretenfions to her.

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

At. Come, Sir, once more, raillery apart, fuppofe I prove myfelf of equal birth and fortune to deferve her?

Wilf. Sir, if you were eldest fon to the Cham of Tartary, and had the dominions of the Great Mogul entailed upon you and your heirs for ever, it would fignify no more than the bite of my thumb. The girl's difpofed of; I have matched her already, upon a thousand pounds forfeit; and faith the fhall fairly run for't, though she's' yerk'd and flead from the crest to the crupper.

At. Confufion!

Syl. What will become of me?

F

F3

Wilf

Wilf. And if you don't think me in earneft 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.] Oh, fweet Sir! have I found you at laft? Your very humble fervant. What's the reason 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 such confequence with you?

At. I understood your bufinefs was to marry me, Sir, 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, Sir? Why, then, Sir, I'll find a Speedy cure for your paffion-Brother Wilful-Hey, fiddles there!

At. Sir, you may treat me with what feverity you pleafe; but my engagements to that lady are too powerful and fixed, to let the utmost mifery diffolve them. Sir Har. What does the fool mean?

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

At. Oh, earth, and all you stars! is this the lady you defigned me, Sir?

Syl. Oh, fortune! is it poffible?

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

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

me.

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

At. Oh, transporting joy!

Sir Har.

Wilf.

[Embracing Sylvia. Joining in the tune, and dancing about them.]

Loll! loll!

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

Enter Clarinda and Clerimont.

Clar. Save you, fave you, good people-I'm glad,

uncle,