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the Thames had not power to cool? for, Sir, while I was giving her a lift into the boat, I found the floating of her cloaths had left her lovely limbs beneath as bare as a new. born Venus rising from the sea,

Cler. What an impudent happiness art thou capable of!

At. When she was a little recovered from her fright she began to enquire my name, abode, and circumstances, that she might know to whom the owed her life and prefervation. Now, to tell you the truth, I durit not trust her with my real name, left the should from thence have discovered that my father was now actually under bonds to marry me to another woman; fo faith I even told her my name was Freeman, a Gloucestershire gentleman, of a good estate, just come to town about a chancery fuit. Befides, I was unwilling any accident should let my father know of my being yet in England, leit he should find me out, and force me to marry the woman I never faw (for which, you know, he commanded me home) before I have time to prevent it.

Cler. Well, but could you not learn the lady's name all, this while?

At. No faith, she was inexorable to all intreaties ; only told ipe in general terms, that if what I vowed to her was fincere, ihe would give me a proof in a few days what hazards she would run to requite my services ; so after having told her where she might hear of me, I saw her into a chair, pressed her by the cold rofy fingers, kissed them warm, and parted.

Cler. What, then you are quite off with the lady, I fuppose, that you made an acquaintance with in the Park lait week,

At. No, no; not so neither : one's my Juno, all pride and beauty; but this my Venus, all life, love, and foftness. Now, what I beg of thee, dear Clerimont, is this: Mrs, Juno, as I told you, having done me the ho. nour of a civil visit or two at my own lodgings, I must needs borrow thine to entertain Mrs. Venus in ; for if the rival goddesses should meet and clash, you know there would be the devil to do between them.

Cler. Well, Sir, my lodgings are at your service : but you must be very private and fober, I can tell you ; for


my landlady's a Presbyterian ; if the suspects your defign, you're blown up, depend upon't.

At. Don't fear; I'll be as careful as a guilty conscience: but I want immediate possession ; for I expect to hear from her every moment, and have already directed her to send thither. Pr’ythee, come with me.

Cler.! 'Faith you must excuse me; I expect some ladies in the Park that I would not miss of for an empire : but yonder's my fervant, he shall conduct you.

At. Very good! that will do as well then ; I'll send my man along with him to expect her commands, and call me if the sends : and in the mean time I'll e'en go home to my own lodgings; for, to tell you the truth, I expect a small message there from my goddess imperial. And I am not so much in love with my new bird in the bush, as to let t'other fly out of my hand for er.

Cler. And pray, Sir, what name does your goddess imperial, as you call her, know you by?

At. 0, Sir, with her I pass for a man of arms, and an called Colonel Stand fast ; with my new face, John Free. man, of Flatland Hall, efq. But time flies ; I must leave you. Cler. Well, dear Atall, I'm

Good luck to you. [Exit At.] What a happy fellow is this, that owes his success with the women purely to his inconstancy? Here comes another too almost as happy as he, a fellow that's wise enough to be but half in love, and make his whole life a studied idleness.

Enter Careless. So, Careless! you're constant, I see, to your morning's faunter. Well, how stand matters? I hear strange things of thee; that after having railed at marriage all thy life, thou hast resolved to fall into the noofe at last.

Care. I don't see any great terror in the noose, as you call it, when a man's weary of liberty : the liberty of playing the fool, when one's turned of thirty, is not of much value.

Cler. Hey-day! Then you begin to have nothing in your head

now,. but settlements, children, and the nain chance? - Care. Even so faith ; but in hopes to come at 'em too, I am forced very often to make my way through pills, elixirs, bolus's, ptisans, and gallipots.



Cler. What, is your mistress an apothecary's widow ?

Care. No, but she is an apothecary's thop, and keeps as many drugs in her bed-chamber; she has her physic for every hour of the day and night

-for 'tis vulgar, she says, to be a moment in rude and perfect health. Her bed lined with poppies; the black boys at the feet, that the healthy employ to bear flowers in their arms, the loads with diascordium, and other sleepy potions ; her sweet-bags, instead of the common and offensive smells of mulk and amber, breathe nothing but the more modifh and falubrious scents of hari's-horo, rue, and af. fafærida.

Cler. Why, at this rate, she's only fit to be the confort of Hippocrates. But pray what other charms has this extraordinary lady?

Care. She has one, Tom, that a man may relish without being so deep a physician.

Cler. What's that ?
Care. Why, two thousand pounds a year.

Cler. No vulgar beauty, I confels, Sir. But canit thou for any confideration throw thyself into this hofpital, this box of phyfic, and lie all night like leaf-gold upon a pill?

Care. O, dear Sir, this is not half the evil; her humour is as fantastic as her diet ; nothing that is English must come near her; all her delight is in foreign impertibencies : her rooms are all of Japan or Persia, her dress Indian, and her equipage are all monsters : the coachman came over with his horses, both from Russia, Flanders are too common; the reft of her trim are a motley crowd of blacks, tawny, olives, feulamots, and pale blues : in short, she's for any thing that comes from beyond sea; her greatest monsters are those of her own country ; and she's in love with nothing o'this fide the line, but the apothecaries.

Cler. Apothecaries quotha ! why your fine lady, for aught I see, is a perfect dose of folly and physic; in a month's time she'll grow like an antimonial cup, and a kiss will be able to work with you.

Care. But to prevent that, Tom, I design upon the wedding-day to break all her gallipots, kick the doctor down stairs, and force her, instead of phyfic, to take a


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hearty meal of a swinging rump of boiled beef and car.
rots, and so 'faith I have told her.
Clor. That's something familiar: are you

so near man and wife?

Care. O nearer ; for I sometimes plague her till she hates the very fight of me.

Cler. Ha ! ha! very good ! So being a very troublefome lover, you pretend to cure her of her phyfic by a counter poison.

Care. Right ; I intend to see a doctor to prescribe to her an hour of my conversation to be taken every night and morning; and this to be continued till her fever of averfion's over.

Cler. An admirable recipe !

Care. Well, Tom, but how stands thy own affair ? Is Clarinda kind yet?

Cler. Faith I can't say she's absolutely kind, but she's pretty near it; for she's grown fo ridiculously ill-humoured to me of late, that if she keeps the same airs a week longer, I am in hopes to find as much ease from her folly, as my constancy would from her good-nature

But to be plain, I'm afraid I have some secret rival in the case ; for women's vanity seldom gives them courage enough to use an old lover heartily ill, till they are first fure of a new one, that they intend to use bet-ter.

Care. What says Sir Solomon ? He is your friend, I "presume ?

Cler. Yes; at least I can make him so when I please : there is an odd five hundred pound in her fortune, that he has a great mind should stick to his fingers, when he pays in the rest on't ; which I am afraid I must comply with, for she can't easily marry without his confent. And yet she's so altered in her behaviour of late, that I scarce know what to do-Prythee take a turn and advise me. Care. With all my heart,

[Exeunt. The SCENE changes to Sir Solomon Sadlife's House..

Exter Sir Solomon, and Supple his man. Sir Sol. Supple, doft not thou perceive I put a great confidence in thee? I trust thee with my bosoin secrets.


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Sup. Yes, Sir.

Sir Sol. Ah, Supple! I begin to hate my wife but be fecret.

Sup. I'll never tell while I live, Sir.

Sir Sol. Nay, then I'll trust thee further. Between thee and I, Supple, I have reason to believe my wife hates me too.

Sup. Ah! dear, Sir, I doubt that's no secret ; for to say the truth, my lady's bitter young and gamesome.

Sir Sol. But can she have the impudence, think'it thou; to make a cuckold of a knight, one that was dubbed by the royal sword ?

Sup. Alas, Sir, I warrant she has the courage of a countess; if she's once provoked, she cares not what she does in her passion, if you were ten times a knight, she'd give you dub for dub, Sir.

Sir Sol. Ah! Supple, when her blood's up, I confess The's the devil; and I question if the whole conclave of cardinals could lay her. But fuppose the should resolve to give me a sample of her sex, and make me a cuckold in cool blood ?

Sup. Why, if she should, Sir, don't take it so to heart, cuckolds are no such moniters now-a-days : in the city you know, Sir, it's so many honest men's fortune, that

no body minds it there; and at this end of the town a cuckold has as much respect as his wife, for aught I see ; for gentlemen don't know but it may be their own case another day, and so people are willing to do as they would be done by.

Sir Sol. And yet I do not think but my spouse is honeft-and think she is not-would I were satisfied.

Sup. Troth, Sir, I don't know what to think, but in my conscience I believe good looking after her can do her no harm.

Sir Sol. Right, Supple ; and in order to it, I'll first demolish her visiting days. For how do I know but they may be so many private clubs for cuckoldom ?

Sup. Ah, Sir! your worship knows I was always against your coming to this end of the town.

Sir Sol. Thou wert indeed, my honest Supple: but woman! fair and faithless woman, wormed and worked me to her wishes; like fond Mark Anthony I let my em

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