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THE BASSET-TABLE.

Drawn from

THE

WORKS

OF THE CELEBRATED

Mrs. CENTLIVRE.

IN THREE VOLUMES

VOLUME THE FIRST

Dramatis Personæ.

M E N.
Lord Worthy, in Love with Lady Reveller, a Hater of Gaming,	}	Mr. Mills.
Sir James Courtly, an airy Gentleman, given to Gaming,	}	Mr. Wilks.
Lovely, an Ensign, in Love with Valeria,		Mr. Bickerstaff.
Sir Richard Plainman, formerly a Citizen, but now lives in Covent-Garden, a great Lover of a Soldier, and an inveterate Enemy to the French,	}	Mr. Bullock.
Captain Hearty, a Sea Officer, design'd by Sir Richard, to marry Valeria,	}	Mr. Estcourt.
Sago, a Drugster in the City, very fond of his Wife,	}	Mr. Johnson.
Buckle, footman to Lord Worthy,		Mr. Penkethman.

W O M E N.
Lady Reveller, a Coquetish Widow, that keeps a Basset-Table,	}	Mrs. Oldfield.
Lady Lucy, her Cousin, a religious sober Lady,	}	Mrs. Rogers.
Valeria, a philosophical Girl, Daughter to Sir Richard, in Love with Lovely,	}	Mrs. Montford.
Mrs. Sago, the Drugster's Wife, a gaming profuse Woman, great with my Lady Reveller, in Love with Sir James,	}	Mrs. Cross.
Alpiew, Woman to Lady Reveller,		Mrs. Lucas.
Ladies, and Gentlemen, for the Basset-Table. Chairmen, Footmen, &c.

SCENE, Lady Reveller's Lodgings, in Covent-Garden; the Time, Four o'Clock in the Morning.

THE

BASSET-TABLE.

THE

PROLOGUE.

Spoken by Mr. Penkethman.

In all the Faces that to Plays resort, Whether of Country, City, Mob, or Court, I've always found, that none such Hopes inspire, As you—dear Brethren of the Upper Tire.
Poets, in Prologues, may both preach and rail, Yet all their Wisdom nothing will avail; Who writes not up to you 'tis Ten to One will fail.	}
Your thundering Plaudit is that deals out Fame; You make Plays run, tho' of themselves but Lame: How often have we known your Noise commanding, Impose on your inferior Masters Understanding; Therefore, dear Brethren, (since I am one of you) Whether adorn'd in Grey, Green, Brown, or Blue, This Day stand all by me, as I will fall by you. And now to let—— The poor Pit see how Pinky's Voice commands, Silence—Now rattle all your Sticks, and clap your grimy Hands.
I greet your Love—and let the vainest Author shew, Half this Command on cleaner Hands below, Nay, more to prove your Interest, let this Play live by you.	}
So may you share good Claret with your Masters, Still free in your Amours from their Disasters; Free from poor Housekeeping; where Peck is under Locks, Free from Cold Kitchens, and no Christmas-Box: So may no long Debates i' th' House of Commons, Make you in the Lobby starve, when Hunger summons; But may your plenteous Vails come flowing in, Give you a lucky Hit, and make you Gentlemen; And thus preferr'd, ne'er fear the World's Reproaches, But shake your Elbows with my Lord, and keep your Coaches.

SCENE, A large Hall, a Porter with a Staff, several Chairs waiting, and Footmen asleep, with Torches and Flambeaux standing about the Room.

Footm. A Month; too long by thirty Days, if this be her Way of Living, I shall be dead before the Year's out; she games all Night, and sleeps all Day.

Footm. I deny that; for while she sleeps I'm employ'd in Howd'ye's, from one End of the Town to the other.

Port. But you rest while she's gaming; What would you do if you led my Life? This is my Lady's constant Practice.

Footm. Your Lady keeps a Basset-Table, much good may do you with your Service——Hark, they are broke up. [Within.] Ha, hy, my Lady Gamewell's Chair ready there—Mr. Sonica's Servant.

2d Footm. So-hey——Robin, get the Chair ready, my Lady's coming; stay, stay, let me light my Flambeaux.

3d Footm. Was you blind—She has lost her Money, that's certain——She never flinches upon a winning Hand——Her Plate and Jewels walk To-morrow to replenish her Pocket—a Pox of Gaming, I say.

Enter Lady Reveller and Alpiew, her Woman.

Lady. My Lady Raffle is horridly out of Humour at her ill Fortune, she lost 300l.

Alp. She has generally ill Luck, yet her Inclination for Play is as strong as ever.——Did your Ladyship win or lose, Madam?

Lady. I won about 50 Pieces—Pr'ythee, what shall we do, Alpiew? 'Tis a fine Morning, 'tis pity to go to Bed.

Alp. What does your Ladyship think of a Walk in the Park?—The Park is pleasant in a Morning, the Air is so very sweet.

Lady. I don't think so; the sweetness of the Park is at Eleven, when the Beau-Monde make their Tour there; 'tis an unpolish'd Curiosity to walk when only Birds can see one.

Enter Sir Richard Plainman, in a Night-Gown, as from Bed.

Sir Rich. So, Niece! I find you're resolv'd to keep on your Course of Life; I must be wak'd at four, with Coach, Coach, Chair, Chair; give over, for Shame, and marry, marry, Niece.

Lady. Now would I forfeit the Heart of my next Admirer, to know the Cause of this Reproach. [Aside.] Pray, Uncle, explain yourself; for I protest I can't guess what Crime I have unhappily committed to merit this Advice.

Sir Rich. How can you look me in the Face and ask me that Question? Can you that keep a Basset-Table, a public Gaming-House, be insensible of the Shame on't? I have often told you how much the vast Concourse of People, which Day and Night make my House their Rendezvous, incommode my Health; your Apartment is a Parade for Men of all Ranks, from the Duke to the Fidler; and your Vanity thinks they all pay Devoir to your Beauty—but you mistake; every one has his several Ends in meeting here, from the Lord to the Sharper, and each their separate Interests to pursue—Some Fools there may be, for there's seldom a Crowd without.

Lady. Ay, is it not, Alpiew?—Yet, now I think on't, 'tis the Defect of Age to rail at the Pleasures of Youth, therefore I shall not disorder my Face with a Frown about it. Ha, ha, I hope, Uncle, you'll take peculiar Care of my Cousin Valeria, in disposing of her according to the Breeding you have given her.

Sir Rich. The Breeding I have given her! I would not have her have your Breeding, Mistress, for all the Wealth of England's Bank; no, I bred my Girl in the Country, a Stranger to the Vices of this Town, and am resolv'd to marry her to a Man of Honour, Probity, and Courage.

Lady. What, the Sea Captain, Uncle? Faugh, I hate the Smell of Pitch and Tar; one that can entertain one with nothing but Fire and Smoke, Larboard and Starboard, and t'other Bowl of Punch; ha, ha, ha.

Alp. And for every Fault that she commits, he'll condemn her to the Bilboes; ha, ha.

Lady. I fancy my Cousin's Philosophy, and the Captain's courageous Bluster, will make Angelic Harmony.

Sir Rich. Yes, Madam; sweeter Harmony than your Sept & Leva Fops, Rakes, and Gamesters; give me the Man that serves my Country, that preserves both my Estate and Life—Oh, the glorious Name of Soldier; if I were young, I'd go myself in Person, but as it is——

Sir Rich. Yes, Minx, and a good Dowry with her, as a Reward for Virtue, like the Captain's.

Sir Rich. And you too impertinent: Therefore I resolve you shall quit my House; you shan't keep your Revels under the Roof where I am.

Sir Rich. Hold your Tongue, Mrs. Pert, or I shall display your Quality in its proper Colours.

Alp. I don't care, say your worst of me, and spare not; but for my Lady——my Lady's a Widow, and Widows are accountable to none for their Actions——Well, I shall have a Husband one of these Days, and be a Widow too, I hope.

Sir Rich. Not unlikely, for the Man will hang himself the next Day, I warrant him.

Sir Rich. The Insolence of a Servant is a great Honour to the Lady, no doubt; but I shall find a Way to humble you both.

Lady. Lookye, Uncle, do what you can, I'm resolv'd to follow my own Inclinations.

Sir Rich. Which infallibly carry you to Noise, Nonsense, Foppery, and Ruin; but no matter, you shall go out of my Doors, I'll promise you; my House shall no longer bear the scandalous Name of a Basset-Table: Husbands shall no more have Cause to date their Ruin from my Door, nor cry, There, there my Wife gam'd my Estate away—Nor Children curse my Posterity, for their Parents knowing my House.

Lady. No more Threatening, good Uncle; act as you please, but don't scold, or I shall be oblig'd to call Alpiew again.

Sir Rich. Very well, very well, see what will come on't; the World will censure those that game, and, in my Conscience, I believe not without Cause.

For she whose Shame no good Advice can wake,
When Money's wanting will her Virtue stake.

No sooner rid of one Mischief but another follows—[Aside.] I foresee this to be a Day of Mortification, Alpiew.

L. Lucy. Fye, Cousin, does it become you to laugh at those that give you Counsel for your Good?

Lady. For my Good! Oh, mon cœur! Now cannot I divine what 'tis that I do more than the rest of the World to deserve this Blame.

L. Lucy. Shou'd all the rest of the World follow your Ladyship's Example, the Order of Nature would be inverted, and every Good design'd by Heaven, become a Curse; Health and Plenty no longer would be known among us——You cross the Purpose of the Day and Night; you wake when you should sleep, and make all who have any Dependance on you wake, while you repose.

L. Lucy. No; there are certain Hours that good Manners, Modesty, and Health, require your Care; for Example, disorderly Hours are neither healthful nor modest——And 'tis not civil to make Company wait Dinner for your Dressing.

Lady. Why does any Body dine before Four o'Clock in London? For my Part, I think it an ill-bred Custom to make my Appetite Pendulum to the Twelfth Hour.

Alp. Besides, 'tis out of Fashion to dine by Day-light; and so I told Sir Richard Yesterday, Madam.

L. Lucy. No doubt but you did, Mrs. Alpiew; and then you entertain such a Train of People, Cousin, that my Lady Reveller is as noted as a public Ordinary, where every Fool with Money finds a Welcome.

Lady. Would you have me shut my Doors against my Friends?—Now she is jealous of Sir James Courtly [Aside.] Besides, is it possible to pass the Evenings without Diversions?

L. Lucy. I think the Playhouse the much more innocent and commendable Diversion.

Lady. To be seen there every Night, in my Opinion, is more destructive to the Reputation.

L. Lucy. Well; I had rather be noted every Night in the Front Box, than, by my Absence, once be suspected of Gaming; one ruins my Estate and Character, the other diverts my Temper, and improves my Mind. Then you have such a Number of Lovers.

Lady. Oh, Cupid! is it a Crime to have a Number of Lovers? If it be, 'tis the pleasantest Crime in the World. A Crime that falls not every Day to every Woman's Lot.

L. Lucy. Methinks my Lord Worthy's Assiduity might have banish'd the admiring Crowd by this Time.

Lady. Banish'd 'em! Oh, mon cœur! what Pleasure is there in one Lover? 'tis like being seen always in one Suit of Cloaths; a Woman, with one Admirer, will ne'er be a reigning Toast.

L. Lucy. I am sure those that encourage more, will never have the Character of a reigning Virtue.

Lady. I slight the malicious Censure of the Town, yet defy it to asperse my Virtue; Nature has given me a Face, a Shape, a Mien, an Air for Dress, and Wit and Humour to subdue: And shall I lose my Conquest for a Name?

Alp. Nay, and among the unfashionable Sort of People too, Madam; for Persons of Breeding and Quality will allow, that Gallantry and Virtue are not inseparable.

L. Lucy. But Coquetry and Reputation are; and there is no Difference in the Eye of the World, between having really committed the Fault, and lying under the Scandal; for my own Part, I would take as much Care to preserve my Fame, as you would your Virtue.

Lady. A little Pains will serve you for that, Cousin; for I never once heard you nam'd——A Mortification would break my Heart, ha, ha.

L. Lucy. 'Tis better never to be nam'd, than to be ill spoken of; but your Reflections shall not disorder my Temper. I could wish, indeed, to convince you of your Error, because you share my Blood; but since I see the Vanity of the Attempt, I shall desist.

Alp. Oh! Madam, here's my Lord Worthy, Sir James Courtly, and Ensign Lovely coming down; will your Ladyship see them?

Lady. Now have I a strong Inclination to engage Sir James, to discompose her Gravity; for if I have any Skill in Glances, she loves him. But then my Lord Worthy is so peevish since our late Quarrel, that I'm afraid to engage the Knight in a Duel; besides, my Absence, I know, will teize him more; therefore upon Consideration I'll retire. Cousin Lucy, good Morrow. I'll leave you to better Company, there's a Person at hand may prevent your Six o'Clock Prayers.

L. Lucy. Ha! Sir James Courtly—I must own I think him agreeable; but am sorry she believes I do. I'll not be seen, for if what I scarce know myself, be grown so visible to her, perhaps he too may discover it, and then I am lost.

While in the Breast our Secrets close remain,
'Tis out of Fortune's Power to give us Pain.

Enter Lord Worthy, Sir James, and Ensign Lovely.

Ensign. It was—Ah, Sir James, I find your Heart is out of Order about that Lady, and my Lord Worthy languishes for Lady Reveller.

Sir Jam. And thou art sick for Valeria, Sir Richard's Daughter. A poor distressed Company of us.

Ensign. 'Tis true, that little She-Philosopher has made me do Penance more heartily than ever my Sins did; I deserve her by mere Dint of Patience. I have stood whole Hours to hear her assert, that Fire cannot burn, nor Water drown, nor Pain afflict, and Forty ridiculous Systems——

Sir Jam. And all her Experiments on Frogs, Fish, and Flies, ha, ha, without the least Contradiction.

Ensign. Contradiction, no, no, I allow'd all she said, with undoubtedly, Madam,——I am of your Mind, Madam, it must be so——natural Causes, &c.

Sir Jam. Ha, ha, ha, I think it is a supernatural Cause, which enables thee to go thro' this Fatigue; if it were not to raise thy Fortune, I should think thee mad to pursue her; but go on and prosper, nothing in my Power shall be wanting to assist you——My Lord Worthy, your Lordship is as melancholy as a losing Gamester.

Sir Jam. Why then I can tell you; for the very same Reason that made your Lordship stay here to be Spectator of the very Diversion you hate, (Gaming) the same Cause makes you uneasy in all Company, my Lady Reveller.

Lord. Thou hast hit it, Sir James, I confess I love her Person, but hate her Humours, and her Way of Living; I have some Reasons to believe I'm not indifferent to her, yet I despair of fixing her, her Vanity has got so much the Mistress of her Resolution; and yet her Passion for Gain surmounts her Pride, and lays her Reputation open to the World. Every Fool that has ready Money shall dare to boast himself her very humble Servant; S'death, when I could cut the Rascal's Throat.

Sir Jam. Your Lordship is even with her one Way; for you are as testy as she's vain, and as fond of an Opportunity to quarrel with her, as she of a gaming Acquaintance; my Opinion is, my Lord, she'll ne'er be won your Way.

To gain all Women there's a certain Rule:
If Wit should fail to please, then act the Fool;
And where you find Simplicity not take,
Throw off Disguises, and profess the Rake;
Observe which Way their strongest Humours run,
They're by their own lov'd Cant the surest Way undone.

Lord. Thou'rt of a happy Temper, Sir James, I wish I could be so too; but since I can't add to your Diversion, I'll take my Leave; good Morrow, Gentlemen.

Sir Jam. This it is to have more Love than Reason about one; you and I, Lovely, will go on with Discretion, and yet I fear it's in Lady Lucy's Power to banish it.

Ensign. I find Mrs. Sago, the Drugster's Wife's Interest, begins to shake, Sir James.

Sir Jam. And I fear her Love for Play begins to shake her Husband's Bags too. Faith, I am weary of that Intrigue, lest I should be suspected to have a Hand in his Ruin.

Ensign. She did not lose much to Night, I believe. Pr'ythee, Sir James, what kind of a temper'd Woman is she? Has she Wit?

Sir Jam. That she has—A large Portion, and as much Cunning, or she could never have manag'd the old Fellow so nicely; she has a vast Passion for my Lady Reveller, and endeavours to mimick her in every Thing. Not a Suit of Clothes, or a Top-knot, that is not exactly the same with her's. Then her Plots and Contrivances to supply these Expences, put her continually upon the Rack; yet to give her her Due, she has a fertile Brain that Way; but come, shall we go Home and sleep two or three Hours; at Dinner I'll introduce you to Captain Hearty, the Sea Officer, your Rival that is to be, he's just come to Town.

Ensign. A powerful Rival, I fear, for Sir Richard resolves to marry him to his Daughter; all my Hopes lie in her Arguments, and you know Philosophers are very positive. And if this Captain does but happen to contradict one whimsical Notion, the Poles will as soon join, as they couple, and rather than yield, she would go to the Indies in search of Dampier's Ants.

Women, like Tides, with Passions ebb and flow,
And like them too, their Source no Man can know.
To watch their Motions, is the safest Guide;
Who hits their Humour, sails with Wind and Tide.

ACT II.

Enter Buckle, meeting Mrs. Alpiew.

Alp. Good-Morrow, good-Morrow, is that all your Business here? What means that affected Look, as if you long'd to be examin'd what's the Matter?

Buck. I—in Love! No! the Devil take me, if ever I shall be infected with that Madness! 'tis enough for one in a Family to fall under the whimsical Circumstances of that Distemper. My Lord has a sufficient Portion for both: here—here—here's a Letter for your Lady: I believe the Contents are not so full of Stars, and Darts, and Flames, as they us'd to be.

Alp. My Lady will not concern herself with your Lord, nor his Letters neither, I can assure you that.

Alp. Tell him it is not my Fault; I have done as much for his Service as lay in my Power, till I put her in so great a Passion, that 'tis impossible to appease her.

Buck. Very good—my Lord is upon the Square, I promise ye, as much inraged as her Ladyship to the full. Well, Mrs. Alpiew, to the longest Day of his Life, he swears never to forget Yesterday's Adventure, that has given him perfect Liberty.

Buck. I'll tell you; 'twas Matter of Consequence, I assure you, I've known Lovers part for a less Trifle by half.

Buck. In a Raffling-Shop she saw a young Gentleman, which she said was very handsome—At the same Time, my Lord praised a young Lady; she redoubles her Commendations of the Beau——He enlarges on the Beauty of the Belle; their Discourse grew warm on the Subject; they pause; she begins again with the Perfections of the Gentleman; he ends with the same of the Lady: Thus they pursued their Arguments, still finding such mighty Charms in their new Favourites, till they found one another so ugly—so ugly—that they parted with full Resolution never to meet again.

Buck. Stay a Moment, I see my Lord coming, I thought he'd follow me. Oh! Lovers' Resolutions.

Enter Lord Worthy.

Lord. Hold a little, dear Mrs. Alpiew. [All this while he is opening the Letter, thinking it from the Lady.]

Alp. I beg your Lordship not to harbour an ill Opinion of me; I opposed her Anger with my utmost Skill, prais'd all your Actions, all your Parts, but all in vain.

Lord. Enough, enough, Madam; she has taken the best Method in the World—Well, then we are ne'er to meet again.

Lord. I rejoice at it, by my Life I do; she has only prevented me; I came on purpose to break with her——

Buck. [Aside.] Yes, so 'twas a Sign, by the Pleasure you discover'd in thinking she had writ to you.

Alp. No, my Lord, never mention'd a Syllable, only said, she had forever done with you; and charg'd me, as I valu'd her Favour, to receive no Message nor Letter from you.

Lord. May I become the very'st Wretch alive, and all the Ills imaginable fall upon my Head, if I speak to her more; nay, ever think of her but with Scorn—Where is she now?

Lord. There let her be; I am weary of her fantastic Humours, affected Airs, and unaccountable Passions.

Alp. I believe, my Lord, trying on a Mantua; I left her with Mrs. Pleatwell, and that us'd to hold her a great while, for the Woman is saucily familiar with all the Quality, and tells her all the Scandal.

Lord. And conveys Letters upon Occasion; 'tis tack'd to their Profession—But my Lady Reveller may do what she pleases, I am no more her Slave, upon my Word; I have broke my Chain—she has not been out then since she rose.

Lord. Nay, if she has, or has not, 'tis the same Thing to me; she may go to the End of the World, if she will, I shan't take any Pains to follow her——Whose Footman was that I met?

Alp. I know not, my Lord, we have so many come with How d'ye's, I ne'er mind them.

Lord. You are uneasy, Child; come, I'll not detain you, I have no Curiosity, I protest I'm satisfied if she's so; I assure ye, let her despise me, let her hate me, 'tis all one; adieu.

Lord. Mrs. Alpiew, let me beg one Favour of you, [turns back] not to say I was here.

Lord. Now I think on't, Mrs. Alpiew, I have a great Mind she should know my Sentiments from my own Mouth.

Alp. O dear, my Lord, you have such a Command over your Servant, I can refuse nothing.

Lord. Have you been at the Goldsmith's about the Bills, for I am fix'd on Travelling.

Buck. Your Lordship's so disturb'd, you have forgot you countermanded me, and sent me hither.

Enter Mrs. Alpiew.

Alp. Just as I told your Lordship, she fell in a most violent Passion at the bare mention of your Name: Tell him, said she, in an heroic Strain, I'll never see him more and commanded him to quit that Room, for I'm coming thither.

Lord. Tyrant, curse on my Folly, she knows her Power; well, I hope I may walk in the Gallery; I would speak with her Uncle.

Buck. Learn, Mistress, learn, you may come to make me mad in Time, ha, ha, ha.

Enter Lady Reveller.

Alp. Ah! Madam, if you had seen him, you must have had Compassion; I would not have such a Heart of Adamant for the World; poor Lord, sure you have the strangest Power over him.

Lady. Silly—one often fancies one has Power, when one has none at all; I'll tell thee, Alpiew, he vexed me strangely before this grand Quarrel; I was at Piquet with my Lady Lovewit four Nights ago, and bid him read me a new Copy of Verses, because, you know, he never plays, and I did not well know what to do with him; he had scarce begun, when I, being eager at a Pique, he rose up and said, he believ'd I lov'd the Music of my own Voice, (crying Nine and Twenty, Threescore) better than the sweetest Poetry in the Universe, and abruptly left us.

Alp. A great Crime, indeed, not to read; when People are at a Game they are oblig'd to talk all the while.

Lady. Crime; yes, indeed was it, for my Lady loves Poetry better than Play, and perhaps before the Poem had been done, had lost her Money to me. But I wonder, Alpiew, by what Art 'tis you engage me in this Discourse, why should I talk of a Man that's utterly my Aversion——Have you heard from Mrs. Sago this Morning?

Alp. Certainly, Madam, she never fails; she has sent your Ladyship the finest Cargo, made up of Chocolate, Tea, Montifiasco Wine, and fifty Rarities beside, with something to remember me, good Creature, that she never forgets. Well, indeed, Madam, she is the best-natur'd Woman in the World; it grieves me to think what Sums she loses at play.

Lady. Oh, fye, she must; a Citizen's Wife is not to be endur'd amongst Quality; had she not Money, 'twere impossible to receive her——

Alp. Nay, indeed, I must say that of you Women of Quality, if there is but Money enough, you stand not upon Birth or Reputation, in either Sex; if you did, so many Sharpers of Covent-Garden, and Mistresses of St. James's, would not be daily admitted.

Val. Oh! dear Cousin, don't stop me, I shall lose the finest Insect for Dissection, a huge Flesh Fly, which Mr. Lovely sent me just now, and opening the Box to try the Experiment, away it flew.

Lady. I am glad the poor Fly escap'd; will you never be weary of these Whimsies?

Alp. Ridiculous, indeed, for Women; Philosophy suits our Sex, as Jack-Boots would do.

Val. Custom would bring them as much in Fashion as Furbeloes, and Practice would make us as valiant as e'er a Hero of them all; the Resolution is in the Mind—Nothing can enslave that.

Val. Mad! so Nero banish'd Philosophers from Rome, and the first Discoverer of the Antipodes was condemn'd for a Heretic.

Lady. In my Conscience, Alpiew, this pretty Creature's spoil'd. Well, Cousin, might I advise, you should bestow your Fortune in founding a College for the Study of Philosophy, where none but Women should be admitted; and to immortalize your Name, they should be called Valerians, ha, ha, ha.

Val. 'Pshaw, no more of this trifling Subject; Cousin, will you believe there's any Thing without Gall.

Lady. I am satisfy'd I have one, when I lose at play, or see a Lady address'd when I am by; and 'tis equal to me, whether the rest of the Creation have or not.

Val. Well, but I'll convince you then; I have dissected my Dove——and positively I think the vulgar Notion true, for I could find none.

Val. Kill'd it! Why, what did you imagine I bred it up for? Can Animals, Insects, or Reptiles, be put to a nobler Use than to improve our Knowledge? Cousin, I'll give you this Jewel for your Italian Greyhound.

Lady. What to cut to Pieces? Oh, horrid! he had need be a Soldier that ventures on you; for my Part, I should dream of nothing but Incision, Dissection, and Amputation, and always fancy the Knife at my Throat.

Val. A——What, is it an Accident, a Substance, a Material Being, or a Being of Reason?

Enter Sir Richard, and Capt. Firebrand.

Alp. Oh, Madam, do you see who observes you? My Lord walking in the Gallery, and every Minute gives a Peep.

Sir Rich. Sir, I like the Relation you have given me of your Naval Expedition; your Discourse speaks you a Man fit for the Sea.

Capt. You had it without a Flourish, Sir Richard; my Word is this, I hate the French, love a handsome Woman, and a Bowl of Punch.

Sir Rich. This is my Daughter, Captain, a Girl of sober Education; she understands nothing of Gaming, Parks, or Plays.

Alp. But wanting these Diversions, she has supply'd the Vacancy with greater Follies. [Aside.]

Capt. A tight little Frigate [Salutes her.] 'Faith, I think she looks like a fresh Man Sea-sick——But here's a gallant Vessel—with all her Streamers out, Top and Top-Gallant—with your Leave, Madam, [Salutes her.] Who is that Lady, Sir Richard?

Sir Rich. 'Tis a Niece of mine, Captain—tho' I am sorry she is so: she values nothing that does not spend their Days at their Glass, and their Nights at Basset; such who ne'er did good to their Prince, nor Country, except their Taylor, Peruke-maker, and Perfumer.

Lady. Fye, fye, Sir, believe him not, I have a Passion, an extreme Passion for a Hero—especially if he belongs to the Sea; methinks he has an Air so fierce, so piercing, his very Looks command Respect from his own Sex, and all the Hearts of ours.

Sir Rich. The Devil——Now, rather than let another Female have a Man to herself, she'll make the first Advances. [Aside.]

Capt. Ay, Madam, we are preferr'd by you fine Ladies, sometimes before the sprucer Sparks——there's a Conveniency in't; a fair Wind, and we hale out, and leave you Liberty and Money, two Things the most acceptable to a Wife in Nature.

Lady. Oh! ay, it's so pretty to have one's Husband gone Nine Months of the Twelve; and then to bring one home fine China, fine Lace, fine Muslin, and fine Indian Birds, and a thousand Curiosities.

Sir Rich. No, no; Nine is a little too long, Six would do better for one of your Constitution, Mistress.

Capt. Well, Madam, what think you of a cruising Voyage towards the Cape of Matrimony, your Father designs me for the Pilot; if you agree to it, we'll hoist Sail immediately.

Val. I agree to any Thing dictated by good Sense, and comprehended within the Borders of Elocution; the Converse I hold with your Sex, is only to improve and cultivate the Notions of my Mind.

Sir Rich. May I be reduced to wooden Shoes, if I can tell you, the Devil: Had I liv'd near a College, the Haunts of some Pedant might have brought this Curse upon me; but to have got my Estate in the City, and to have a Daughter run mad after Philosophy, I'll ne'er suffer it in the Rage I am in; I'll throw all the Books and Mathematical Instruments out of the Window.

Lady. I dare say, Uncle, you have shook Hands with Philosophy——for I'm sure you have banish'd Patience, ha, ha, ha.

Sir Rich. And you Discretion—By all my Hatred for the French, they'll drive me mad: Captain, I'll expect you in the next Room; and you Mrs. Laconick, with your Philosophy at your Tail.

Capt. By Neptune, this is a kind of a whimsical Family. Well, Madam, what was you going to say so positively and properly, and so forth?

Val. I would have ask'd you, Sir, if ever you had the Curiosity to inspect a Mermaid——Or if you are convinc'd there is a World in every Star——We, by our Telescopes, find Seas, Groves and Plains, and all that; but what they are peopled with, there's the Quere.

Capt. Let your next Contrivance be how to get thither, and then you'll know a World in every Star—Ha, ha, she's fitter for Moorfields than Matrimony; pray, Madam, are you always infected, Full and Change, with this Distemper?

Val. How has my Reason err'd, to hold Converse with an irrational Being——Dear, dear Philosophy, what immense Pleasures dwell in thee!

Val. Your Servant, your Servant, I wou'd not lose the Experiment for any Thing, but the Tour of the new World.

Capt. Ha, ha, ha, is your Ladyship troubled with these Vagaries too? Is the whole House possest?

Lady. Not I, Captain, the speculative Faculty is not my Talent; I am for the Practice, can listen all Day to hear you talk of Fire, substantial Fire, Rear and Front, and Line of Battle—admire a Sea-man, hate the French—love a Bowl of Punch: Oh! nothing so agreeable as your Conversation, nothing so jaunty as a Sea Captain.

Alp. So; this engages him to play,—if he has either Manners or Money. [Aside.]

Capt. Ay: give me the Woman that can hold me tack in my own Dialect—She's mad too, I suppose, but I'll humour her a little. [Aside.] Oh, Madam, not a fair Wind, nor a rich Prize, nor Conquest o'er my Enemies, can please like you: accept my Heart without Capitulation——'Tis yours, a Prisoner at Discretion.

Enter Lord Worthy.

Lord. Hold, Sir, you must there contend with me; the Victory is not so easy as you imagine.

Lady. Oh, fye, my Lord, you won't fight for one you hate and despise? I may trust you with the Captain; ha, ha, ha.

Capt. This must be her Lover——and he is mad another Way: This is the most unaccountable Family I ever met with. [Aside.] Look ye, Sir, what you mean by contending, I know not; but I must tell you, I don't think any Woman I have seen since I came ashore, worth fighting for. The philosophical Gimcrack I don't value of a Cockle-Shell. And am too well acquainted with the Danger of Rocks and Quick-sands, to steer into t'other's Harbour.

Capt. But, Sir, if you have a mind to a Breathing, here, tread upon my Toe, or speak but one Word in favour of the French, or against the Courage of our Fleet, and my Sword will start of itself, to do its Master and my Country Justice.

Lord. How ridiculous do I make myself——Pardon me, Sir, you are in the right. I confess I scarce knew what I did.

Capt. I thought so, poor Gentleman, I pity him: this is the Effect of Love on Shore—When do we hear of a Tar in these Fits, longer than the first fresh Gale—Well, I'll into Sir Richard, eat with him, drink with him; but to match into his Generation, I'd as soon marry one of his Daughter's Mermaids.

Lord. Was ever Man so stupid as myself? But I will rouse from this lethargic Dream, and seek elsewhere what is deny'd at home; Absence may restore my Liberty.

Sago. Nay, pray my Lord ben't angry, I only want to tell her what a Present of fine Wine is sent her just now: and ha, ha, ha, ha what makes me laugh—is, that no Soul can tell from whence it comes.

Sago. No more than myself, my Lord—We have often Wine and Sweetmeats; nay, whole Pieces of Silk, and the Duce take me if she could devise from whence; nay, sometimes she has been for sending them back again, but I cry'd, whose a Fool then.

Sago. My Lord, I know your Lordship has the Privilege of this House, pray do me the Kindness, if you find my Wife, to send her out to me. [Exit Lord.] I ne'er saw so much of this Lord's Humour before; he is very surly, methinks——Adod, there are some Lords of my Wife's Acquaintance, as civil and familiar with me, as I am with my Journeyman—Oh! here she comes.

Enter Mrs. Sago, and Alpiew.

Sago. Hey, Keecky, why sure you rise—as the Saying is, for at Home there's four Hampers of Wine sent ye.

Sago. Nay, there's the Jest, neither you nor I know. I offer'd the Rogue that brought it a Guinea to tell from whence it came, and he swore he durst not.

Mrs. Sago. It comes very opportunely; pray, Puddy, send a Couple of the Hampers to my Lady Reveller's, as a small Acknowledgment for the rich Present she has made me.

Mrs. Sago. Puddy I am strangely oblig'd to Mrs. Alpiew; do, Puddy, do, dear Puddy.

Mrs. Sago. Will ye, then? Do, dear Puddy, do, lend me a Guinea to give her, do.

Sago. 'Pshaw, you are always wanting Guineas; I'll send her half a Pound of Tea, Keecky.

Mrs. Sago. Tea—sha—she drinks Ladies Tea; do, dear Puddy do; can you deny, Keecky, now?

Mrs. Sago. Mrs. Alpiew, will you please to lay the Silk by for me, till I send for it, and accept of that?

Mrs. Sago. Thank ye, borrow as much as you can on't, dear Alpiew. [Aside to her.]

Sago. Pr'ythee, Keecky, what kind of humour'd Man is Lord Worthy? I did but ask him if he saw thee, and I thought he wou'd have snapp'd my Nose off.

Mrs. Sago. Oh, a mere Woman, full of Spleen and Vapours, he and I never agree.

Sago. Adod, I thought so—I guess'd he was none of thy Admirers—ha, ha, ha; why there's my Lord Courtall, and my Lord Horncit, bow down to the Ground to me where ever they meet me.

Alp. Here's the Jeweller, Madam, with the Diamond Ring, but he don't seem willing to leave it without Money.

Mrs. Sago. Humph! I have a sudden Thought; bid him stay, and bring me the Ring——Now for the Art of Wheedling——

Mrs. Sago. Mrs. Alpiew says, a Friend of her's has a Diamond Ring to sell, a great Pennyworth, and I know you love a Bargain, Puddy.

Enter Alpiew, gives her the Ring.

Sago. 'Pshaw, I don't care for Rings; it may be a Bargain, and it may not; and I can't spare Money; I have paid for a Lot this Morning; consider Trade must go forward, Lambkin.

Mrs. Sago. Nay, Puddy, if it be not worth your Money, I don't desire you to buy it; but don't it become my Finger, Puddy? See now——

Sago. Ah! that Hand, that Hand it was which first got hold of my Heart: well, what's the Price of it? Ha, I am ravish'd to see it upon Keecky's Finger——

Mrs. Sago. Threescore Pounds, dear Pudd:—The Devil's in't if he won't give that. [Aside.]

Sago. Threescore Pounds! Why 'tis worth a Hundred, Child, richly—'tis stole—'tis stole——

Alp. Stole! I'd have you to know, the Owner is my Relation, and has been as great a Merchant as any in London, but has had the Misfortune to have his Ships fall into the Hands of the French, or he'd not have parted with it at such a Rate; it cost him two hundred Guineas.

Sago. So it is, Keecky, and that dear little Finger shall have it too; let me bite it a little tiny Bit—

Sago. Here—I han't so much Money about me, but there's a Bill, Lambkin——there now, you'll buss poor Puddy now, won't you?

Mrs. Sago. But I promis'd my Lady Reveller to dine with her, Deary—Do, let me, Pud—I'll dine with you To-morrow day.

Sago. Well, they are all so fond of my Wife; my Keecky, shew me thy little Finger agen——O dear little Finger, my Keecky!

Mrs. Sago. My nown Pudd——Here Alpiew, give him his Ring agen, I have my End; tell him 'tis too dear. [Aside.]

Mrs. Sago. I'll say—that it was too big for my Finger, and I lost it; 'tis but a Crying-bout, and the good Man melts into Pity.

I' th' married State, this only Bliss we find,
An easy Husband to our Wishes kind,
I've gain'd my Point, replenish'd Purse once more,
Oh! cast me, Fortune, on the winning Shore:
Now let me gain what I have lost before.

The SCENE draws, and discovers Valeria with Books upon a Table, a Microscope, putting a Fish upon it, several Animals lying by.

Alp. Madam, here's Mr. Lovely; I have introduced him as one of my Lady's Visitors, and brought him down the Back-Stairs.

O Mr. Lovely! come, come here, look through this Glass, and see how the Blood circulates in the Tail of this Fish.

Val. 'Pshaw—be quiet—I'll shew you a Curiosity, the greatest that ever Nature made.—[Opens a Box.] In opening a Dog the other Day, I found this Worm.

Val. Ay; the Lumbricus, Lætus, or Fæscia, as Hippocrates calls it, or vulgarly in English, the Tape-Worm—Thudæus tells us of one of these Worms found in a Human Body, two hundred Feet long, without Head or Tail.

Lov. I wish they be not got into thy Brain. [Aside.] Oh, you charm me with these Discoveries.

Val. 'Tis very odd, really, that there should be every Inch a Joint, and every Joint a Mouth——Oh, the profound Secrets of Nature!

Lov. 'Tis strangely surprizing——But now let me be heard, for mine's the Voice of Nature too; methinks you neglect yourself, the most perfect Piece of all her Works.

Lov. You have not Love enough; that Fire would consume and banish all Studies but its own; your Eyes would sparkle, and spread I know not what, of Lively and Touching, o'er the whole Face; this Hand when press'd by him you Love, would tremble to your Heart.

Val. Why so it does——Have I not told you twenty Times I love you?——for I hate Disguise; your Temper being adapted to mine, gave my Soul the first Impression;——You know my Father's positive,——but do not believe he shall force me to any Thing that does not love Philosophy.

Val. If he was a Whale, he might give you Pain, for I should long to dissect him; but as he is a Man, you have no Reason to fear him.

Val. What, and leave my Microscope, and all my Things for my Father to break in Pieces?

Enter Sir Richard.

Sir Rich. What, at your Whims—and Whirligigs, ye Baggage! I'll out at Window with them.

Sir Rich. I'll Lamprey and Latum you; what's that I wonder? Ha! Where the Devil got you Names that your Father don't understand? Ha?

Val. Oh, my poor Worm! Now you have destroy'd a Thing, that, for ought I know, England can't produce again.

Val. What shall I do now?——it is a——'tis a——Oh dear Sir! don't touch the Tub——for there's a Bear's young Cub that I have bought for Dissection,——but I dare not touch it till the Keeper comes.

Sir Rich. I'll Cub you, and Keeper you, with a Vengeance to you; is my Money laid out in Bears Cubs?—I'll drive out your Cub—[Opens the Door, stands at a Distance off, and with his Cane lifts up the Tub, Lovely rises.

Sir Rich. Oh! your Servant, Sir—What is this your Bear's Cub? Ha, Mistress! His Taylor has lick'd him into Shape, I find——What did this Man do here? Ha, Hussy?—I doubt you have been studying Natural Philosophy, with a Vengeance.

Val. Indeed, Sir, he only brought me a strange Fish, and hearing your Voice, I was afraid you would be angry, and so that made me hide him.

Sir Rich. A Fish! 'tis the Flesh I fear; I'll have you married To-night——I believe this Fellow was the beggarly Ensign, who never march'd farther than from Whitehall to the Tower, who wants your Portion to make him a Brigadier, without ever seeing a Battle—Hussy, ha—tho' your philosophical Cant, with a Murrain to you—has put the Captain out of Conceit, I have a Husband still for you; come along, come along, I'll send the Servants to clear this Room of your Baubles. [Pulls her off.] I will so.

Sir Jam. Ha—Ensign! luckily met; I have been labouring for you, and I hope done you a Piece of Service. Why, you look surpriz'd.

Lov. Surpriz'd! so wou'd you, Sir James, if you had been whelm'd under a Tub without Room to breathe.

Sir Jam. Come, come, I have a better Prospect; the Captain is a very honest Fellow, and thinks if you can bear with the Girl, you deserve her Fortune; here's your Part, [Gives a Paper.] he'll give you your Cue; he stays at his Lodgings for you.

Lov. Well, Sir James, I know you have a prolific Brain, and will rely on your Contrivances, and if it succeeds, the Captain shall have a Bowl of Punch large enough to set his Ship afloat.

Enter Lady Reveller, Lady Lucy, and Mrs. Sago.

Sir Jam. The Tea-Table broke up already! I fear there has been but small Recruits of Scandal To-day.

L. Lucy. He seems neither to want Sense, Honour, nor true Courage; and methinks there is a Beauty in his plain Delivery.

L. Revel. You here? I thought you had listed yourself Volunteer under the Captain, to board some Prize, you whisper'd so often, and sneak'd out one after another.

Sir Jam. Who would give one self the Pains to cruise Abroad, when all one values is at Home?

L. Revel. To whom is this directed? Or will you monopolize and ingross us all?

Sir Jam. No,—tho' you would wake Desire in every Beholder, I resign you to my worthy Friend.

L. Revel. Why, you are in Disorder, my Dear; you look as if you had lost a Trant Leva: What have you said to her, Sir James?

Sir Jam. I said, Madam! I hope I never say any Thing to offend the Ladies. The Devil's in these married Women, they can't conceal their own Intrigues, though they swear us to Secrecy. [Aside.]

L. Lucy. You mistake, Cousin; 'tis his saying nothing to her has put her upon the Fret.

Mrs. Sago. I despise them dear Lady Reveller, let's in to Picquet; I suppose Lady Lucy would be pleas'd with Sir James alone to finish her Remarks.

Sir Jam. [Going up to her.] This you draw upon your self; you will discover it.

Sir Jam. Pardon me, Madam, I'm to be at White's in half an Hour, anon at the Basset-Table. I'm yours.

Sir Jam. [Going up to Lady Lucy.] Madam, were your Heart the Stake, I'd renounce all Engagements to win that, or retrieve my own.

L. Lucy. Ha, ha, I knew she could not stir; I'll remove your Constraint, but with my wonted Freedom, will tell you plainly—your Husband's Shop would better become you than Gaming and Gallants. Oh Shame to Virtue, that Women should copy Men in their most reigning Vices!

Of Virtue's wholesome Rules unjustly we complain,
When Search of Pleasures give us greater Pain.
How slightly we our Reputation guard,
Which lost but once can never be repair'd.

Sir Jam. Nothing else I protest, my dear little Rogue; I have as much Love as you, but I have more Conduct.

Sir. Jam. Now to what Purpose have I lyed myself into her good Graces, when I would be glad to be rid of her? [Aside.]

L. Revel. Booted and spurr'd say you! Pray send him up, Sir James; I suppose trusty Buckle is come with some diverting Embassy from your Friend.

Enter Buckle in a Riding-Dress.

Buck. Farewel, Friends, Parents, and my Country; thou, dear Play-House, and sweet Park, Farewel.

Sir Jam. Were my Lord of my Mind, your Ladyship should not have had so large a Theme for your Mirth. Your Servant Ladies.

Buck. My Lord charg'd me in his Name to take his everlasting Leave of your Ladyship.

Buck. Done to him, Madam! He says they are all proud, perfidious, vain, inconstant Coquets in England.

Buck. And this proceeds from your ill Usage, Madam; when he left your House—he flung himself into his Coach with such a Force, that he broke all the Windows—as they say—for my Part I was not there—When he came home, he beat all his Servants round to be reveng'd.

Buck. No, I thank my Stars, when I arriv'd, the Expedition was over—in haste he mounted his Chamber——flung himself upon his Bed—burst out into a violent Passion—Oh that ever I should suffer myself to be impos'd upon, said he, by this coquettish Beauty!

Buck. Stay till I have finished the Piece, Madam, and your Ladyship shall judge——she's as fickle as she's fair—she does not use more Art to gain a Lover, said he, than to deceive him when he is fix'd——Humph.

Buck. Oh! Madam, I'm not come to the tragical Part of it yet; starting from his Bed—

L. Revel. I thought it had been all Farce—if there be any Thing Heroic in't, I'll set my Face and look grave.

Buck. My Relation will require it, Madam, for I am ready to weep at the Repetition: Had you but seen how often he travers'd the Room, [Acting it.] heard how often he stamp'd, what distorted Faces he made, casting up his Eyes thus, biting his Thumbs thus.

L. Revel. Ha, ha, ha, you'll make an admirable Actor—shall I speak to the Patentees for you?

Buck. At last, Madam, quite spent with Rage, he sunk down upon his Elbow, and his Head fell upon his Arm.

Buck. After three Hours Nap, he wak'd—and calling hastily—my dear Buckle, said he, let's to the End of the World; and try to find a Place where the Sun shines not here and there at one Time——for 'tis not fit that it should at once look upon two Persons whose Sentiments are so different—She no longer regards my Pain, ungrateful, false, inhuman, barbarous Woman.

L. Revel. Foolish, fond, believing, easy Man; there's my Answer—Come, shall we to Picquet, my Dear?

Mrs. Sago. Oh! Pray my Lady Reveller, let's have it out, 'tis very diverting.——

Buck. He call'd me in a feeble Voice: Buckle, said he, bring me my little Scrutore—for I will write to Lady Reveller before I part from this Place, never to behold her more—What, don't you cry, Madam?

Madam, Since I cannot live in a Place where there is a Possibility of seeing you without admiring, I resolve to fly; I am going to Flanders: Since you are false I have no Business here—I need not describe the Pain I feel, you are but too well acquainted with that—therefore I'll chuse Death rather than return—Adieu.

Buck. Can any Man in the World write more tenderly, Madam? Does he not say 'tis impossible to love you, and go for Flanders? and that he would rather hear of your Death than return——

Buck. I think you ought to die with Grief; I warrant Heaven will punish you all.

Buck. To tell my Lord in what Manner your Lady receiv'd his Letter; Farewel—now for Flanders—

Buck. My Lord here! So, now may I have my Head broke for my long Harangue, if it comes out.

L. Revel. Oh miraculous—my Lord! you have not finish'd your Campaign already, have you? Ha, ha, ha; or has the French made Peace at hearing of your Lordship's intended Bravery, and left you no Enemies to combat?

L. Revel. O dear, my Lord, no more of that Theme, for Buckle has given us a Surfeit on't already——even from your breaking the Glasses of your Coach—to your falling fast asleep, Ha, ha, ha.

Buck. Ruin'd quite——Madam, for Heaven's Sake, what does your Ladyship mean? I ly'd in every Syllable I told you, Madam.

L. Revel. Nay, if your Lordship has a Mind to act it over again, we will oblige you for once—Alpiew, set Chairs——Come, dear Sago, sit down—and let the Play begin—Buckle knows his Part, and upon Necessity could act yours too, my Lord.

Lord. What has this Dog been doing? When he was only to deliver my Letter, to give her new Subject for Mirth—Death, methinks I hate her—Oh that I could hold that Mind——What makes you in this Equipage? Ha, Sirrah? [Aside.]

Buck. Who the Devil would rack his Brains for these People of Quality, who like no Body's Wit but their own?—— [Aside.]

Mrs. Sago. If the Beating were Invention before, thou hast it now in reality; if Wars begin, I'll retire. They may agree better alone perhaps.

Lady. Where did you learn this Rudeness, my Lord, to strike your Servant before me?

Lord. When you have depriv'd a Man of his Reason, how can you blame his Conduct?

Buckle. Reason—Egad—there's not three Drams of Reason between you both—as my Cheek can testify. [Aside.]

Lady. The Affront was meant to me—nor will I endure these Passions—I thought I had forbid your Visits.

Lord. It shall—I think it shall at least—Is there a Happy Man for whom I am despised?

Lady. I thought 'twas some such ridiculous Question; I'm of the Low-Church, my Lord, consequently hate Confessors! ha, ha, ha.

Lady. Dare you, the Subject of my Power—you, that petition Love, arraign my Pleasures? Now I'm fixt—and will never see you more.

Lord. I cannot bear that Curse—see me at your Feet again. [Kneels.] Oh! you have tortur'd me enough, take Pity now dear Tyrant, and let my Sufferings end.

Lady. I must not be Friends with him, for then I shall have him at my Elbow all Night, and spoil my Luck at the Basset-Table. [Aside.] Either Cringing or Correcting, always in Extreams—I am weary of this Fatigue.

He that would gain my Heart, must learn the Way
Not to controul, but readily obey;
For he that once pretends my Faults to see,
That Moment makes himself all Faults to me.

Lord. Gone—now Curses on me for a Fool—the worst of Fools—a Woman's Fool—

Whose only Pleasure is to feed her Pride,
Fond of her Self, she cares for none beside:
So true Coquets their numerous Charms display,
And strive to conquer, purpose to betray.

ACT IV.

Enter Lord Worthy and Sir James.

Sir James. Well, my Lord, I have left my Cards in the Hand of a Friend to hear what you have to say to me. Love I'm sure is the Text, therefore divide and subdivide as quick as you can.

Lord. Could'st thou infuse into me thy Temper, Sir James, I should have thy Reason too; but I am born to love this Fickle, Faithless Fair—What have I not essay'd to raze her from my Breast: but all in vain! I must have her, or I must not live.

Sir James. Nay, if you are so far gone, my Lord, your Distemper requires an able Physician—What think you of Lovely's bringing a File of Musketteers and carry her away, Vi & Armis?

Sir James. Say you so my Lord? I'll engage three Parts of Europe will make that Exchange with you; Ha, ha, ha.

Lord. That Maxim wou'd hold with me perhaps in all but her; there I must have both or none; therefore instruct me, Friend, thou who negligent in Love, keeps always on the Level with the Fair—What Method shall I take to sound her Soul's Design? For tho' her Carriage puts me on the Rack when I behold that Train of Fools about her, yet my Heart will plead in her Excuse, and calm my Anger spite of all Efforts.

Sir James. What e'er it be you shall be Witness of it, 'twill either quench your Flame, or kindle hers. I only will appear the Guilty; but here's Company, I'll tell you all within.

Enter Captain and Lovely, dress'd like a Tar.

Capt. North and by South, Faith; but here's one sails full East, and without some unexpected Tornado, from the old Man's Coast—he makes his Port I warrant ye.

Sir James. Why, thou art as errant a Tar, as if thou had'st made an East-India Voyage, ha, ha.

Lovely. Ay, am I not, Sir James? But Egad I hope the old Fellow understands nothing of Navigation; If he does, I shall be at a loss for the Terms.

Sir James. Oh! no Matter for Terms—look big, and bluster for your Country—describe the Vigo Business—publick News will furnish you with that, and I'll engage the Success.

Capt. Ay, ay, let me alone, I'll bear up with Sir Richard, and thou shalt board his Pinnace with Consent, ne'er fear—ho, here he comes full Sail.

Enter Sir Richard.

Sir Richard, I'm glad to see you; this is my Kinsman which I told you of; as soon as he landed I brought him to kiss your Hands.

Lovely. I thank you, Sir—I'm not for Compliments; 'tis a Land Language, I understand it not; Courage, Honesty, and Plain-dealing Truth, is the Learning of our Element; if you like that I am for ye.

Sir Rich. Like it, Sir? why 'tis the only Thing I do like, hang Compliments and Court breeding, it serves only to make Men a Prey to one another, to encourage Cowardice and ruin Trade—No, Sir, give me the Man that dares meet Death and Dinner with the same Appetite—one who rather than let in Popery, would let out his Blood; to maintain such Men I'd pay double Custom; nay, all my Gain shou'd go for their Support.

Sir James. The best Well-wisher to his Country of an Englishman I ever heard.

Lovely. Oh! Sir Richard, I wish the Nation were all of your Mind, 'twou'd give the Soldiers and the Sailors Life. Captain launch off a round Lye or two.

Capt. And make us fight with Heart and Hand; my Kinsman, I'll assure, fits your Principle to a Hair; he hates the French so much, he ne'er fails to give them a Broadside where'er he meets them; and has brought in more Privateers this War than half the Captains in the Navy; he was the first Man that boarded the French fleet at Vigo—and in Gibraltar Business—the Gazetteer will inform you of the Name of Captain Match.

Sir Rich. And I of being related to you, Sir—I have a Daughter young and handsome, and I'll give her a Portion shall make thee an Admiral, Boy; for a Soul like thine is only fit to command a Navy—what say'st thou? art thou for a Wife?

Lovely. I don't know, Sir Richard, mehap a Woman may not like me; I am rough and Storm-like in my Temper, unacquainted with the Effeminacy of Courts; I was born upon the Sea, and since I can remember, never liv'd two Months on Shore; if I marry, my Wife must go Aboard, I promise you that.

Sir Rich. Aboard Man? Why she shall go to the Indies with thee—Oh! such a Son-in-law—how shall I be bless'd in my Posterity? now do I foresee the Greatness of my Grand-Children; the Sons of this Man shall, in the Ages to come, make France a Tributary Nation.

Lovely. Once in an Engagement, Sir, as I was giving Orders to my Men, comes a Ball and took off a Fellow's Head, and struck it full in my Teeth; I whipp'd it up, clap'd it into a Gun, and shot it at the Enemy again.

Lovely. Concern, Sir—ha, ha, ha, if it had been my own Head I would have done the like.

Sir Rich. Prodigious Effect of Courage!—Captain I'll fetch my Girl, and be here again in an Instant—What an Honour will it be to have such a Son.

Enter Sir Richard and Valeria.

Sir Rich. I'll hear none of your Excuses—Captain your Hand—there take her, and these Gentlemen shall be Witnesses, if they please, to this Paper, wherein I give her my whole Estate when I die, and twenty thousand Pounds down upon the Nail; I care not whether my Boy be worth a Groat—get me but Grandsons and I'm rich enough.

Val. That's impossible; can I have Joy in a Species so very different from my own? Oh my dear Lovely!—We were only form'd for one another;—thy dear Enquiring Soul is more to me—than all these useless Lumps of animated Clay: Duty compels my Hand—but my Heart is subject only to my Mind,—the Strength of that they cannot conquer;—no, with the Resolution of the Great Unparallel'd Epictetus,—I here protest my Will shall ne'er assent to any but my Lovely.

Sir Rich. Ay, you and your Will may philosophize as long as you please,—Mistress,—but your Body shall be taught another Doctrine,—it shall so,——Your Mind and your Soul quotha! Why, what a Pox has my Estate to do with them? Ha? 'Tis the Flesh Housewife, that must raise Heirs,—and Supporters of my Name;——and since I knew the getting of the Estate, 'tis fit I should dispose of it,——and therefore no more Excuses, this is your Husband, do you see,——take my Word for it.

Val.	The outward empty Form of Marriage take, But all beyond I keep for Lovely's Sake. Thus on the Ground for ever fix my Eyes; All Sights but Lovely's shall their Balls despise.

Sir Rich. Come, Captain,—my Chaplain is within, he shall do the Business this Minute: If I don't use the Authority of a Father, this Baggage will make me lose such a Son-in-Law, that the City's Wealth can't purchase me his Fellow. [Aside.]

Lov.	Thanks dear Invention for this timely Aid: The Bait's gone down, he's by himself betray'd. Thus still where Arts both true and honest fail, Deceitful Wit and Policy prevail.

Sir Rich. Get you in I say,——Hussey, get you in. In my Conscience my Niece has spoil'd her already; but I'll have her married this Moment: Captain, you have bound me ever to you by this Match; command me and my House for ever;—But shall I not have your Company, Gentlemen, to be Witnesses of this Knot, this joyful Knot?

Capt. Yes, Faith, Sir Richard, I have too much Respect for my Kinsman to leave him,—till I see him safe in Harbour; I'll wait on you presently.

Sir James. I am engag'd in the next Room at Play, I beg your Pardon, Sir Richard, for an Hour; I'll bring the whole Company to congratulate the Bride and Bridegroom.

Sir Rich. Bride and Bridegroom! Congratulate me, Man! Methinks I already see my Race recorded amongst the foremost Heroes of my Nation;—Boys, all Boys,—and all Sailors.

They shall the Pride of France and Spain pull down,
And add their Indies to our English Crown.

Sir James. Ha, ha, ha, never was Man so bigotted before;——how will this end when he discovers the Cheat? Ha, ha, won't you make one with the Ladies, Captain?

Capt. I don't Care if I do venture a Piece or two; I'll but dispatch a little Business, and meet you at the Table, Sir James.

Sir James. Ha, Lady Lucy! is your Ladyship reconcil'd to Basset yet? Will you give me Leave to lose this Purse to you, Madam?

L. Lucy. I thank Fortune, I neither wish, nor need it, Sir James; I presume the next Room is furnish'd with Avarice enough to serve you in that Affair, if it is a Burthen to you; or Mrs. Sago's ill Luck may give you an Opportunity of returning some of the Obligations you lie under.

Sir James. Your Sex, Madam, extorts a Duty from ours, and a well bred Man can no more refuse his Money to a Lady, than a Sword to his Friend.

L. Lucy. That Superfluity of good Manners, Sir James, would do better converted into Charity; this Town abounds with Objects,——wou'd it not leave a more glorious Fame behind you to be the Founder of some pious Work, when all the Poor, at mention of your Name, shall bless your Memory, than that Posterity shou'd say you wasted your Estate on Cards and Women.

Sir James. Humph, 'tis pity she were not a Man, she preaches so emphatically. [Aside.] Faith, Madam, you have a very good Notion, but something too early;——when I am old, I may put your Principles in Practice, but Youth for Pleasure was design'd.—

L. Lucy. The truest Pleasure must consist in doing good, which cannot be in Gaming.

Sir James. Every Thing is good in its Kind, Madam; Cards are harmless Bits of Paper, Dice insipid Bones—and Women made for Men.

L. Lucy. Right, Sir James,—but all these Things may be perverted.——Cards are harmless Bits of Paper in themselves, yet through them, what Mischiefs have been done? What Orphans wrong'd? What Tradesmen ruin'd? What Coaches and Equipage dismiss'd for them?

Sir Jam. But then, how many fine Coaches and Equipages have they set up, Madam?

L. Lucy. Is it the more honourable for that? How many Misses keep Coaches too? Which Arrogance in my Opinion only makes them more eminently scandalous——

Sir. Jam. Oh! those are such as have a Mind to be damn'd in this State, Madam; but I hope your Ladyship don't rank them amongst us Gamesters.

L. Lucy. They are inseparable, Sir James; Madam's Grandeur must be upheld—tho' the Baker and Butcher shut up Shop.

Sir Jam. Oh! Your Ladyship wrongs us middling Gentlemen there; to ruin Tradesmen is the Quality's Prerogative only; and none beneath a Lord can pretend to do't with an honourable Air, ha, ha.

L. Lucy. Their Example sways the meaner Sort; I grieve to think that Fortune shou'd exalt such vain, such vicious Souls,——whilst Virtue's cloath'd in Rags.

Sir Jam. Ah! Faith, she'd make but a scurvy Figure at Court, Madam; the Statesmen and Politicians wou'd suppress her quickly; but whilst she remains in your Breast she's safe,——and makes us all in love with that fair Covering.

L. Lucy. Oh! Fie, fie, Sir James, you could not love one that hates your chief Diversion.

L. Lucy. I cou'd pay that Price—but dare not venture upon one so wild.—[Aside.] First let me see the Fruit, e'er I take a Lease of the Garden, Sir James.

Sir Jam. Oh! Madam, the best Way is to secure the Ground, and then you may manure and cultivate it as you please.

L. Lucy. That's a certain Trouble, and uncertain Profit, and in this Affair, I prefer the Theory before the Practice: But I detain you from the Table, Sir James,—you are wanted to Tally——your Servant.—

Sir Jam. Nay, if you leave me, Madam, the Devil will tempt me,——She's gone, and now can't I shake off the Thought of seven Wins, eight Loses——for the Blood of me,——and all this grave Advice of her's is lost,——Faith,—tho' I do love her above the rest of her Sex;——she's an exact Model of what all Women ought to be,—and yet your merry little coquettish Tits are very diverting;—well, now for Basset; let me see what Money have I about me.—Humph! about a hundred Guineas,——half of which will set the Ladies to cheating—false Parolies in abundance.

Each Trifling Toy wou'd tempt in Times of Old, Now nothing melts a Woman's Heart like Gold.
Some Bargains drive, others more nice than they, Who'd have you think they scorn to kiss for Pay; To purchase them you must lose deep at Play.	}
With several Women, several Ways prevail; But Gold's a certain Way that cannot fail.

The SCENE draws, and discovers Lady Reveller, Mrs. Sago, and several Gentlemen and Ladies round a Table at Basset.

Mrs. Sago. And I have lost a Trante & leva,——my ill Fortune has not forsook me yet I see.

Mrs. Sago. Burn this Book, 't has an unlucky Air, [Tears them.] Bring some more Books.

L. Revel. Oh! Captain,——here set a Chair; come, Captain, you shall sit by me—now if we can but strip this Tarr. [Aside.]

Capt. With all my Heart, Madam;——come, what do you play Gold?—that's something high tho';—well, a Guinea upon this honest Knave of Clubs.

Mrs. Sago. I'll make a Paroli,—I masse as much more; your Card loses, Sir James, for two Guineas, yours, Captain, loses for a Guinea more.

Mrs. Sago. Oh! I could tear my Flesh—as I tear these Cards;—Confusion!—I can never win above a wretched Paroli; for if I push to Sept & Leva, 'tis gone.

L. Revel. Fac't again;—what's the Meaning of this ill Luck to Night; Bring me a Book of Hearts, I'll try if they are more successful, that on the Queen; yours and your Card loses.

Mrs. Sago. Bring me a fresh Book; bring me another Book; bring me all Diamonds.

L. Revel. That can never be lucky; the Name of Jewels don't become a Citizen's Wife. [Aside.]

L. Revel. But if he has got the knack of winning thus, he shall sharp no more here, I promise him. [Aside.]

Mrs. Sago. I masse, I masse double, and that—Oh ye malicious Stars!——again.

Capt. So, this Trante & leva makes some amends;—Adsbud, I hate cheating—What's that false Cock made for now? Ha, Madam?

Mrs. Sago. Rude Brute, to take Notice of the Slight of Hand in our Sex;—I protest he wrongs me, Madam,—there's the Dernier Stake, and I'll set it all,——now Fortune favour me, or this Moment is my last.

L. Revel. I never had such ill Luck,——I must fetch more Money: Ha, from whence came this? This is the genteelest Piece of Gallantry; the Action is Sir James's, I see by his Eyes.

Mrs. Sago. I am ruin'd and undone for ever; Oh, oh, oh, to lose every Card, Oh, oh, oh.

Capt. So, there's one Vessel sprung a-Leak, and I am almost ashore;——if I go on at this Rate, I shall make but a lame Voyage on't I doubt.

Capt. I masse again,—I masse double, I masse again;—now the Devil blow my Head off if ever I saw Cards run so; damn 'em.

Capt. Damn the Ladies,—mayn't I swear,——or tear my Cards, if I please; I'm sure I have paid for them: Pray count the Cards, I believe there's a false Tally.

L. Revel. Madam, if you play no longer, pray don't disturb those that do.—Come, Courage, Captain, Sir James's Gold was very lucky.—Who cou'd endure these Men, did they not lose their Money? [Aside.]

L. Revel. Ha, ha, ha, what is the Captain vanish'd in his own Smoke?—Come, I bett it with you, Mr. Sharper; your Card loses.

Re-enter Captain, pulling in a Stranger, which he had fetch'd out of the Street.

Capt. Sir, do you think it possible to lose a Trante & leva, a Quinze-leva,—and a Sept leva,—and never turn once.

Capt. What the Devil had I to do among these Land-Rats?—Zounds, to lose forty Pounds for nothing, not so much as a Wench for it; Ladies, quotha,—a Man had as good be acquainted with Pick-pockets.

Sir Jam. Ha, ha, ha, the Captain has frightened the Women out of their Wits,——now to keep my Promise with my Lord, tho' the Thing has but an ill Face, no Matter.

They join together to enslave us Men,
And why not we to conquer them again.

ACT V.

Enter Sir James on one Side, and Lady Reveller on the other.

Sir Jam. He is gone to your Uncle's Apartment, Madam, I suppose.——I was in Pain till I knew how your Ladyship did after your Fright.

L. Revel. Really, Sir James, the Fellow has put me into the Spleen by his ill Manners. Oh, my Stars! that there should be such an unpolish'd Piece of Humanity, to be in that Disorder for losing his Money to us Women—I was apprehensive he would have beat me, ha, ha.

Sir Jam. Ha, ha, your Ladyship must impute his ill Breeding to the Want of Conversation with your Sex; but he is a Man of Honour with his own, I assure you.

L. Revel. I hate out of fashion'd Honour.——But where's the Company, Sir James? Shan't we play again?

Sir Jam. Oh, I'm tir'd with Cards, Madam, can't you think of some other Diversion to pass a chearful Hour?—I cou'd tell you one, if you'd give me leave.

L. Revel. Ha, ha, ha, is Sir James got into Lord Worthy's Class?——You that could tell me I should not have so large a Theme for my Diversion, were you in his Place, ha, ha, ha: What, and is the gay, the airy, the witty, inconstant Sir James overtaken? ha, ha.

Sir Jam. Very true, Madam,——you see there is no jesting with Fire.——Will you be kind?

L. Revel. Kind? What a dismal Sound was there?—I'm afraid your Fever's high, Sir James, ha, ha.

L. Revel. Ha, what Insolence is this? The Door lock'd! What do you mean, Sir James?

Sir Jam. Oh, 'tis something indecent to name it, Madam, but I intend to shew you.

Sir Jam. Do, and make yourself the Jest of Servants, expose your Reputation to their vile Tongues,—which, if you please, shall remain safe within my Breast; but if with your own Noise you blast it, here I bid Defiance to all Honour and Secrecy,—and the first Man that enters, dies.

L. Revel. What shall I do? Instruct me Heaven.—Monster! is this your Friendship to my Lord? And can you wrong the Woman he adores?

Sir Jam. Ay, but the Woman does not care a Souse for him; and therefore he has no Right above me; I love you as much, and will possess.

L. Revel. Oh! Hold——Kill me rather than destroy my Honour;—what Devil has debauch'd your Temper? Or, how has my Carriage drawn this Curse upon me? What have I done to give you Cause to think you ever should succeed this hated Way?

Sir Jam. Why this Question, Madam? Can a Lady that loves Play so passionately as you do,—that takes as much Pains to draw Men in to lose their Money, as a Town Miss to their Destruction,——that caresses all Sorts of People for your Interest, that divides your Time between your Toilet and Basset-Table; can you, I say, boast of innate Virtue?—Fye, fye, I am sure you must have guess'd for what I play'd so deep;——we never part with our Money without Design,—or writing Fool upon our Foreheads;——therefore no more of this Resistance, except you would have more Money.

Sir Jam. There was fifty Guineas in that Purse, Madam,——here's fifty more; Money shall be no Dispute.

L. Revel. [Strikes it down.] Perish your Money with yourself——you Villain——there, there; take your boasted Favours, which I resolv'd before to have paid in Specie; basest of Men, I'll have your Life for this Affront——what ho, within there.

Sir Jam. Hush!——'Faith, you'll raise the House. [Lays hold on her.] And 'tis in vain—you're mine; nor will I quit this Room 'till I'm possess'd.

L. Revel. Raise the House! I'll raise the World in my Defence; help, Murther! Murther——a Rape, a Rape——

Enter Lord Worthy from another Room with his Sword drawn.

L. Revel. By the bright Sun that shines, you shall not go—no, you've sav'd my Virtue, and I will preserve your Life—let the vile Wretch be punish'd by viler Hands—yours shall not be prophan'd with Blood so base, if I have any Power——

Lord. Shall the Traytor live?—Tho' your barbarous Usage does not merit this from me, yet in Consideration that I lov'd you once—I will chastise his Insolence.

L. Revel. Once——Oh! say not once; do you not love me still? Oh! how pure your Soul appears to me above that detested Wretch.

Lord. Yet how have I been slighted; every Fop preferr'd to me—Now you discover what Inconveniency your Gaming has brought you into——this from me would have been unpardonable Advice—now you have prov'd it at your own Expence.

L. Revel. I have, and hate myself for all my Folly—Oh! forgive me—and if still you think me worthy of your Heart——I here return you mine——and will this Hour sign it with my Hand.

Haste then my Charmer, haste the long'd-for Bliss,
The happiest Minute of my Life is this.

Sir Jam. Ha, ha, ha, ha; how am I censur'd now for doing this Lady a Piece of Service, in forcing that upon her, which only her Vanity and Pride restrain'd.

So blushing Maids refuse the courted Joy,
Tho' wishing Eyes, and pressing Hands comply;
Till by some Stratagem the Lover gains,
What she deny'd to all his amorous Pains.

As Sir James is going off, enter Lady Lucy meeting him.

Sir Jam. Ha, Lady Lucy!——Having succeeded for my Friend, who knows but this may be my lucky Minute too?——Madam, you come opportunely to hear.

L. Lucy. Stand off, basest of Men, I have heard too much; coud'st thou chuse no House but this, to act thy Villanies in? And coud'st thou offer Vows to me, when thy Heart, poison'd with vicious Thoughts, harbour'd this Design against my Family?

Sir Jam. Very fine, 'Faith, this is like to be my lucky Minute with a Witness; but Madam—

Sir Jam. 'Egad she loves me——Oh! happy Rogue——this Concern can proceed from nothing else. [Aside.]

L. Lucy. My Heart till now unus'd to Passion swells with this Affront; wou'd reproach thee——wou'd reproach myself, for having harboured one favourable Thought of thee.

Sir Jam. Why did you, Madam?—'Egad I owe more to her Anger than ever I did to her Morals.

L. Lucy. Yes, Impostor; know to thy Confusion, that I did love thee, and fancy'd I discover'd some Seeds of Virtue amongst that Heap of Wickedness; but this last Action has betray'd the fond Mistake, and shew'd thou art all o'er Fiend.

L. Lucy. Think not this Confession meant to advance thy impious Love, but hear my final Resolution.

Sir Jam. [Clapping his Hand before her Mouth.] Nay, nay, nay, after Sentence no Criminal is allow'd to Plead; therefore I will be heard—not Guilty, not Guilty, Madam, by—if I don't prove that this is all a Stratagem, contriv'd, study'd, design'd, prosecuted, and put in Execution, to reclaim your Cousin, and give my Lord Possession—may you finish your Curse, and I be doom'd to everlasting Absence—'Egad I'm out of Breath——

Sir Jam. I can, if by the Proof you'll make me happy; my Lord shall convince you.

In vain we strive our Passions to conceal,
Our very Passions do our Loves reveal;
When once the Heart yields to the Tyrant's Sway,
The Eyes our Tongue will soon the Flame betray.

Enter Mr. Sago and two Bailiffs meeting Alpiew.

Alp. Truly, I shan't give myself the Trouble of seeking her for him, now she has lost all her Money—your Wife is a very indiscreet Person, Sir.

Bailiffs. Come, come, Sir, we can't wait all Day—the Actions are a thousand Pounds——You shall have Time to send for Bail, and what Friends you please.

Sago. A thousand Pounds! [Enter Mrs. Sago.] Oh Lambkin! have you spent me a thousand Pounds?

Sago. Pudd me no Pudd—Do you owe Mr. Taby, the Mercer two hundred Pounds, ha?

Mrs. Sago. I, I, I don't know the Sum, dear Pudd—but, but, but, I do owe him something; but I believe he made me pay too dear.

Sago. Oh! thou Wolfkin, instead of Lambkin——for thou hast devour'd my Substance; and do'st thou owe Mr. Dollar the Goldsmith, three hundred Pounds? Do'st thou? Ha, speak Tygress.

Sago. Thou Island Crocodile thou——and do'st thou owe Ratsbane the Vintner an hundred Pounds? And were those Hampers of Wine which I receiv'd so joyfully, sent by thyself to thyself, ha?

Sago. And why did'st not thou tell me of them, thou Rattle-Snake?——for they say they have sent a hundred Times for their Money—else I had not been arrested in my Shop.

Sago. But wer't thou not afraid to ruin me tho', dear Pudd? Ah! I need ask thee no more Questions, thou Serpent in Petticoats; did I doat upon thee for this? Here's a Bill from Callico the Linen-Draper; another from Setwell the Jeweller——from Coupler a Mantua-maker, and Pimpwell the Milliner; a Tribe of Locusts enough to undo a Lord-Mayor.

Sago. All, with a Pox——no Mrs. Jezebel, that's not all; there's two hundred Pounds due to myself for Tea, Coffee, and Chocolate, which my Journeyman has confess'd, since your Roguery came out—that you have embezzled, Hussy, you have; so this comes of your keeping Quality Company——e'en let them keep you now, for I have done with you, you shall come no more within my Doors, I promise you.

Mrs. Sago. Oh! Kill me rather; I never did it with Design to part with you, indeed, Puddy.

Sir Jam. How! Mrs. Sago in Tears, and my honest Friend in Ruffians Hands; the Meaning of this?

Sago. Oh! Sir James——my hypocritical Wife is as much a Wife as any Wife in the City——I'm arrested here in an Action of a thousand Pounds, that she has taken up Goods for, and gam'd away; get out of my Sight, get out of my Sight, I say.

Mrs. Sago. Indeed, and indeed, [Sobbing.] dear Puddy, but I cannot—no, here I will hang for ever on this Neck.

Sir Jam. Right, Woman; I must try to make up this Breach——Oh! Mr. Sago, you are unkind——'tis pure Love that thus transports your Wife, and not such base Designs as you complain of.

Sago. What was it, ha, Mistress, out of Love to me that you have undone me? Thou, thou, thou, I don't know what to call thee bad enough.

Mrs. Sago. You won't hear your Keecky out, dear Pudd; it was not out of Love for Play——but for Lo, Lo, Love to you, dear Pudd; if you'll forgive me, I'll ne'er play again.

Sir Jam. No, no, there's no Danger of that, I'll bail you, Mr. Sago, and try to compound those Debts——You know me, Officers.

Sir Jam. There's your Fees then, leave here your Prisoner, I'll see him forth-coming.

Sago. Ah thou wicked Woman, how have I doated on those Eyes! How often have I kneel'd to kiss that Hand! Ha, is not this true, Keecky?

Sago. Might'st not thou have eaten Gold, as the Saying is, ha?—Oh Keecky, Keecky!

Mrs. Sago. I do confess it; and can't you forgive your Keecky then, that you have been so tender of, that you so often confess your Heart has jump'd up to your Mouth when you have heard my Beauty prais'd.

Sago. So it has I profess, Sir James,—I begin to melt——I do; I am a good-natur'd Fool, that's the Truth on't: But if I should forgive you, what would you do to make me amends? For that fair Face, if I turn you out of Doors, will quickly be a cheaper Drug than any in my Shop.

Mrs. Sago. No, indeed, I won't come within the Air on't, but take up with City Acquaintance, rail at the Court, and go twice a Week with Mrs. Outside to Pinmakers-hall.

Sir Jam. See, if the good Man is not ready to weep; your last Promise has conquer'd—Come, come, buss and be Friends, and end the Matter—I'm glad the Quarrel is made up, or I had had her upon my Hands. [Aside.]

Sago. I can hold no longer.——Yes, I do hear him,——come then to the Arms of thy nown Pudd.

Sir Jam. Now all's well; and for your Comfort, Lady Reveller is by this Time married to my Lord Worthy, and there will be no more Gaming, I assure you, in that House.

Sago. Joys upon Joys. Now if these Debts were but accommodated, I should be happier than ever; I should indeed, Keecky.

Sir Jam. Leave that to me, Mr. Sago, I have won Part of your Wife's Money; and will that Way restore it you.

Sago. I thank you, good Sir James, I believe you are the first Gamester that ever refunded.

Mrs. Sago. Generously done,——Fortune has brought me off this Time, and I'll never trust her more.

Enter Lord Worthy and Lady Reveller, Lady Lucy, Buckle and Alpiew.

L. Lucy. This Match which I have now been Witness to, is what I long have wish'd; your Course of Life must of Necessity be chang'd.

L. Revel. Ha, Sir James here!—Oh if you love me, my Lord, let us avoid that Brute; you must not meet him.

Sir Jam. Oh, there's no Danger, Madam——My Lord, I wish you Joy with all my Heart; we only quarrel'd to make you Friends, Madam, ha, ha, ha.

L. Revel. No, I forgive you; tho' had I been aware of it, it should have cost you a little more Pains.

L. Lucy. My Fault is Consideration you know, I must think a little longer on't.

Sir Jam. And my whole Study shall be to improve those Thoughts to my own Advantage.

Sago. I wish your Ladyship Joy, and hope I shall keep my Keecky to myself now.

Lady. With all my Heart, Mr. Sago, she has had ill Luck of late, which I am sorry for.

Mrs. Sago. My Lord Worthy will confine your Ladyship from Play as well as I, and my Injunction will be more easy when I have your Example.

Enter Sir Richard, Captain Hearty, Lovely, and Valeria.

Capt. Well, Sir James, the Danger's over; we have doubled the Cape, and my Kinsman is sailing directly to the Port.

Sir Rich. 'Tis done, and my Heart is at Ease.—Did you ever see such a perverse Baggage? Look in his Face, I say, and thank your Stars; for their best Influences gave you this Husband.

Lov. Will not Valeria look upon me? She us'd to be more kind when we have fish'd for Eels in Vinegar.

Val. My Lovely, is it thee! And has natural Sympathy forborn to inform my Sense thus long?

Sir Rich. How! how! This Lovely? What, does it prove the Ensign I have so carefully avoided?

Lov. Yes, Sir, the same; I hope you may be brought to like a Land-Soldier, as well as a Seaman.

Capt. Yes 'Faith, she was too whimsical for our Element; her hard Words might have conjur'd up a Storm for ought I know,——so I have set her ashore.

Sir Jam. And I have no Reason to doubt you should repent it; he is a Gentleman, tho' a younger Brother; he loves your Daughter, and she him, which has the best Face of Happiness in a marry'd State; you like a Man of Honour, and he has as much as any one, that I assure you, Sir Richard.

Sir Rich. Well, since what's past is past Recal, I had as good be satisfied as not; therefore take her, and bless ye together.

Capt. Well said, Sir Richard, let's have a Bowl of Punch, and drink to the Bridegroom's good Voyage to-Night——steady, steady, ha, ha.

Sago. I'll take a Glass with you, Captain,——I reckon myself a Bridegroom too.

Mrs. Sago. Well,—poor Keecky's bound to good Behaviour, Or she had quite lost her Puddy's Favour.

Shall I for this repine at Fortune?——No,
I'm glad at Heart that I'm forgiven so.
Some Neighbours Wives have but too lately shewn,
When Spouse had left 'em, all their Friends were flown.
Then all you Wives that wou'd avoid my Fate,
Remain contented with your present State.

THE

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Mr. Estcourt.

This goodly Fabrick, to a gazing Tar,
Seems Fore and Aft, a Three Deckt Man of War:
Abaft, the Hold's the Pit, from thence look up;
Aloft! that's Swabber's Nest, that's the Main-Top.
Side Boxes mann'd with Beau, and modish Rake,
Are like the Fore-Castle and Quarter-Deck.
Those dark-disguised, advent'rous, black-nos'd few,
May pass for Gunners, or a Fire-Ship's Crew.
Some come like Privateers a Prize to seize,
And catch the French within the Narrow Seas.
The Orange Ladies, Virgins of Renown,
Are Powder-Monkies running up and down.
We've here our Calms, our Storms, and prosp'rous Gales,
And shift our Scenes as Seamen shift their Sails.
The Ship's well mann'd, and not ill woman'd neither,
So ballasted and stow'd, my Lads, she'll bear the Weather.
But greater Dangers vent'ring Players alarm;
This Night's Engagement's worse than any Storm.
The Poet's Captain, but half dead with Fright,
She leaves her Officers to maintain the Fight;
Yond middle Teer with Eighteen Pounders maul us,
That Upper-Deck with Great and Small Shot gaul us.
But from this Lower-Teer most Harm befals,
There's no opposing their prevailing Balls.
At either Foe or Friend their Chain-Shot flies,
We sink or swim, we conquer, fall or rise.
To fit and rig our Ships much Pains we take;
Grant we may now a Saving-Voyage make.
Here we're embark'd, and as you smile or frown,
You are our Stars, by you we live or drown.