fpeak it) fhe fhould be mine; and as fhe is, my tears and prayers fhall wed her. Dag. How happy had this declaration been fome hours ago! Bif. Sir, fhe beckons to you, and waves us to go off. Come, come, let's leave them. [Ex. all but Mir, and Ori. Ori. Oh, Sir! Mir. Speak, my charming angel, if your dear fenfes have regained their order; fpeak, fair, and bless me with the news. Ori. First, let me blefs the cunning of my fex, that happy counterfeited frenzy, that has reftored to my poor labouring breast the dearest, best beloved of men. Mir. Tune, all ye fpheres, your inftruments of joy, and carry round your fpacious orbs the happy found of Oriana's health! her foul, whofe harmony was next to yours, is now in tune again; the counterfeiting fair has played the fool. She was fo mad to counterfeit for me; I was fo mad to pawn my liberty: But now we both are well, and both are free. Ori. How, Sir, free! Mir. As air, my dear bedlamite. What, marry a luna tic! Look ye, my dear, you have counterfeited madness fo very well this bout, that you'll be apt to play the fool all your life long. Here, gentlemen Öri. Monster! you won't difgrace me? Mir. O' my faith, but I will-here, come in, gentlemen-A miracle, a miracle! the woman's difpoffeffed A the devil's vanished! Enter Old Mirabel and Dugard. Old Mir. Blefs us! was the poffeffed ? Mir. With the worst of dæmons, Sir, a marriage-devil, a horrid devil. Mr. Dugard, don't be furprifed; I promifed my endeavours to cure your fifter; no mad-doctor in Christendom could have done it more effectually. Take her into your charge; and have a care fhe don't relapse; if the fhould, employ me not again; for I am no more infallible than others of the faculty; I do cure fometimes. Ori. Your remedy, most barbarous man, will prove the greatest greatest poison to my health; for tho' my former frenzy was but counterfeit,, I fhall now run into a real madness. [Exit; Old Mir. after. Dug. This was a turn beyond my knowledge. I'm 'fo confus'd, I know not how to refent it. 4 [Exit. Mir. What dangerous precipice have I efcaped! Was not I just now upon the brink of destruction? Enter Duretete. • Oh, my friend, let me run into thy bofom! no lark, efcaped from the devouring pounces of a hawk, quakes ⚫ with more difmal apprehenfion. Dur. The matter, man? • Mir. Marriage, hanging; I was just at the gallowsfoot, the running noose about my neck, and the cart ⚫ wheeling from me. Oh, I fhan't be myself this month ⚫ again! "Dur. Did not I tell you fo? They are all alike, faints or devils: their counterfeiting can't be reputed a deceit; ' for 'tis the nature of the fex, not their contrivance. Mir. Ay, ay; there's no living here with fecurity; this houfe is fo full of stratagem and defign, that I must abroad again. Dur. With all my heart; I'll bear thee compauy, my lad. I'll meet you at the play, and we'll set out ⚫ for Italy to-morrow morning. • Mir. A match; I'll go pay my compliment of leave to my father presently. • Dur. I'm afraid he'll stop you. • Mir. What, pretend a command over me, after his • fettlement of a thousand pounds a year upon me! No, no, he has paffed away his authority with the convey· ance; the will of a living father is chiefly obeyed for the fake of the dying one. • What makes the world attend and croud the great ? A horfe's levee crown'd with courtly crows. For tho' the fon rebels, the heir is yours. [Exeunt.' END of the FOURTH ACT. ACT ACT V. SCENE, the Street before the Play-houfe. Enter Mirabel and Duretete, as coming from the Play. DURETETE. OW d'ye like this play? How Mir. I liked the company; the lady, the rich beauty, in the front box had my attention. Thefe impudent poets bring the ladies together to fupport them, and to kill every body else. For deaths upon the ftage the ladies cry; But ne'er mind us that in the audience die. me Dur. Hoity toity! did Phillis infpire you with all this? Mir. Ten times more; the play-house is the element of poetry, because the region of beauty; the ladies, thinks, have a more infpiring triumphant air in the boxes than any where elfe; they fit commanding on their thrones, with all their fubject flaves about them; their beft cloaths, beft looks, fhining jewels, fparkling eyes, the treasure of the world in a ring. 'Then there's fuch a hurry of pleasure to transport us; the buftle, noife, gallantry, equipage, garters, feathers, wigs, bows, fimiles, ogles, love, mufic, and applause.' I could wish that my whole life long were the first night of a new play. Dug. The fellow has quite forgot this journey. Have you bespoke poft horses? Mir. Grant me but three days, dear Captain, one to discover the lady, one to unfold myself, and one to make me happy, and then I'm yours to the world's end. Dur. Haft thou the impudence to promise thyself a lady of her figure and quality in fo fhort a time? Mir. Yes Sir; I have a confident addrefs, no disagreeable perfon, and five hundred louis d'ors in my pocket. Dur. Five hundred louis d'ors! You an't mad? Mir. I tell you, fhe's worth five thousand; one of her black brilliant eyes is worth a diamond as big as her head. I compared her necklace with her looks, and the living jewels out-fparkled the dead ones by a million. Dur. Dur. But you have owned to me, that, abating Oriana's pretenfion's to marriage, you loved her paffionately: then how can you wander at this rate? Mir. I longed for partridge t'other day off the King's plate; but, d'ye think, because I could not have it, I muft eat nothing? Dur. Pr'ythee, Mirabel, be quiet; you may remember what narrow escapes you have had abroad, by following ftrangers; you forget your leap out of the courtesan's window at Bologna, to fave your fine ring there. Mir. My ring's a trifle; there's nothing we poffefs comparable to what we defire. Be fhy of a lady, barefaced, in the front-box, with a thousand pounds in jewels about her neck!-For fhame! no more Enter Oriana in boy's cloaths, with a letter. Ori. Is your name Mirabel, Sir? Mir. Yes, Sir. Ori. A letter from your uncle in Picardy. [Gives the letter. Mir. [Reads.] "The bearer is the fon of a proteftant gentleman who, flying for his religion, left me the charge of this youth."-A pretty boy.- "He's fond of fome handsome service that may afford him an opportunity of improvement. Your care of him will oblige Haft a mind to travel, child? Your's." Ori. 'Tis my defire, Sir; I fhould be pleafed to ferve a traveller in any capacity. Mir. A hopeful inclination. You fhall along with me into Italy as my page. Dur. I don't think it fafe; the rogue's too handsome. [Noife without.] The play is done, and some of the ladies come this way. Enter Lamorce, with her train borne up by a page. Mir. Duretere, the very dear, identical she ! Dur. And what then? Mir. Why, 'tis fhe. Du.. And what then, Sir? Mir. Then! Why-Look ye, firrah, the first piece of fervice I put you upon, is to follow that lady's coach, and bring me word where the lives. [To Oriana. Ori. I don't know the town, Sir, and am afraid of lofing myfelf. Mir. Phaw! Lam. Page, what's become of all my people? Page. I can't tell, Madam; I can fee no fign of your ladyfhip's coach, Lam. That fellow is got into his old pranks, and fallen drunk fomewhere-None of my footmen there? Page. Not one, Madam. Lam. Thefe fervants are the plague of our lives. What fhall I do? Mir. By all my hopes, Fortune pimps for me! Now, Duretete, for a piece of gallantry. Dar. Why, you won't, fure? Mir. Won't, brute !-Let not your fervants' neglect, Madam, put your ladyfhip to any inconvenience; for you can't be disappointed of an equipage whilft mine waits below; and would you honour the mafter fo far, he would be proud to pay his attendance. Dur. Ay, to be sure. [Afide. Lam. Sir, I won't prefume to be troublesome; for my habitation is a great way off. Dur. Very true, Madam; and he is a little engaged: befides, Madam, a hackney-coach will do as well, Madam. Mir. Rude beaft, be quiet. [To Duretete.]-The farther from home, Madam, the more occafion you have for a guard-Pray, Madam Lam. Lard, Sir! [He feems to prefs, fhe to decline it, in dumb how. Dar. Ah, the devil's in his impudence! Now be wheedles, fhe fmiles; he flatters, the fimpers; he swears, the believes; he's a rogue, and she's a w- in a moment. Mir. Without there! my coach !-Duretete, wish me [Hands the lady out. Dur. Wish you a furgeon-Here, you little Picard; go follow your mafter, and he'll lead joy. Ori. Whither, Sir? you Dur. To the academy, child; 'tis the fashion with men of quality to teach their pages their exercises-Go. Ori. Won't you go with him too, Sir? That woman may do him fome harm; I don't like her. Dur. Why, how now, Mr. Page? Do you start up to |