have drunk the secret down, and pissed it out to the next company.

Sir Mart. Well, I find I am a miserable man: I have lost my mistress, and may thank myself for

it.

Warn. You'll not confess you are a fool, I war

rant.

Sir Mart. Well, I am a fool, if that will satisfy you: But what am I the nearer, for being one?

Warn. O yes, much the nearer; for now fortune's bound to provide for you; as hospitals are built for lame people, because they cannot help themselves." Well; I have a project in my pate.

Sir Mart. Dear rogue, what is't?

Warn. Excuse me for that: But while 'tis set a working, you would do well to screw yourself into her father's good opinion.

Sir Mart. If you will not tell me, my mind gives me, I shall discover it again.

Warn. I'll lay it as far out of your reach as I can possibly.

-For secrets are edged tools,

And must be kept from children and from fools.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter Rose and WARNER meeting.

Rose. Your worship's most happily encountered. Warn. Your ladyship's most fortunately met. Rose. I was going to your lodging.

Warn. My business was to yours.

Rose. I have something to say to you that
Warn. I have that to tell

Rose. Understand then

you

Warn. I am of opinion, that

Rose. Pry'thee hold thy peace a little, till I have done.

Warn. Cry you mercy, Mrs Rose; I'll not dispute your ancient privilege of talking.

Rose. My mistress, knowing Sir John was to be abroad upon business this afternoon, has asked leave to see a play: And Sir John has so great a confidence of your master, that he will trust no body with her, but him.

Warn. If my master gets her out, I warrant her, he shall shew her a better play than any is at either of the houses-here they are: I'll run and prepare him to wait upon her.

[Exit.

Enter old MOODY, Mrs MILLISENT, and Lady

DUPE.

Mill. My hoods and scarfs there, quickly.
L. Dupe. Send to call a coach there.

Mood. But what kind of man is this Sir Martin, with whom you are to go?

L. Dupe. A plain down-right country-gentleman, I assure you.

Mood. I like him much the better for it. For I -hate one of those you call a man of the town, one of those empty fellows of mere out-side: They have nothing of the true old English manliness.

Rose. I confess, sir, a woman's in a bad condition, that has nothing to trust to, but a peruke above, and a well-trimmed shoe below.

To them Sir MARTIN.

Mill. This, sir, is Sir John's friend; he is for your humour, sir; he is no man of the town, but bred up in the old Elizabeth way of plainness.

Sir Mart. Ay, madam, your ladyship may say your pleasure of me.

To them WARNER.

Warn. How the devil got he here before me! Tis very unlucky I could not see him first.

Sir Mart. But, as for painting, and the like, I'll say this of myself

music, poetry,

Warn. I'll say that for him, my master understands none of them, I assure you, sir.

Sir Mart. You impudent rascal, hold your tongue: I must rid my hands of this fellow; the rogue is ever discrediting me before company.

Mood. Never trouble yourself about it, sir, for I like a man that

Sir Mart. I know you do, sir, and therefore I hope you'll think never the worse of me for his prating: For, though I do not boast of my own good parts

sir.

Warn. He has none to boast of, upon my faith,

Sir Mart. Give him not the hearing, sir; for, if I may believe my friends, they have flattered me with an opinion of more

Warn. Of more than their flattery can make good, sir; 'tis true he tells you, they have flattered him; but, in my conscience, he is the most downright simple-natured creature in the world.

Sir Mart. I shall consider you hereafter, sirrah; but I am sure in all companies I pass for a vir

tuoso.

Mood. Virtuoso! What's that too? is not virtue enough without O so?

Sir Mart. You have reason, sir.

Mood. There he is again too; the town phrase; a great compliment I wis! you have reason, sir ; that is, you are no beast, sir.

Warn. A word in private, sir; you mistake this old man; he loves neither painting, music, nor poetry; yet recover yourself, if you have any brains. [Aside to him.

Sir Mart. Say you so? I'll bring all about again, I warrant you. I beg your pardon a thousand times, sir; I vow to gad I am not master of any of those perfections; for, in fine, sir, I am wholly ignorant of painting, music, and poetry; only some rude escapes; but, in fine, they are such, that, in fine,

sir

Warn. This is worse than all the rest. [Aside.

Mood. By coxbones, one word more of all this gibberish, and old Madge shall fly about your ears: What is this, in fine, he keeps such a coil with too?

Mill. 'Tis a phrase a-la-mode, sir; and is used in conversation now, as a whiff of tobacco was formerly in the midst of a discourse for a thinking while. L. Dupe. In plain English, in fine is, in the end,

sir.

Mood. But, by coxbones, there is no end on't, methinks: If thou wilt have a foolish word to lard thy lean discourse with, take an English one when thou speakest English! as, so sir, and then sir, and so forth; 'tis a more manly kind of nonsense: And a pox of, in fine, for I'll hear no more on't.

Warn. He's gravelled, and I must help him out. [Aside.] Madam, there's a coach at the door, to carry you to the play.

Sir Mart. Which house do you mean to go to? Mill. The Duke's, I think.

Sir Mart. It is a damn'd play, and has nothing

in't.

Mill. Then let us to the king's.

Sir Mart. That's e'en as bad.

Warn. This is past enduring. [Aside.] There was an ill play set up, sir, on the posts; but I can assure

you the bills are altered since you saw them, and
now there are two admirable comedies at both
houses.

Mood. But my daughter loves serious plays.
Warn. They are tragi-comedies, sir, for both.
Sir Mart. I have heard her say, she loves none
but tragedies.

Mood. Where have you heard her say so, sir? Warn. Sir, you forget yourself; you never saw her in your life before.

Sir Mart. What, not at Canterbury, in the cathedral church there? This is the impudentest rascal

Warn. Mum, sir.

Sir Mart. Ah Lord, what have I done! As I hope to be saved, sir, it was before I was aware; for if ever I set eyes on her before this day, I wish

Mood. This fellow is not so much fool, as he makes one believe he is.

Mill. I thought he would be discovered for a wit: This 'tis to over-act one's part!

[Aside. Mood. Come away, daughter, I will not trust you in his hands; there's more in it than I imagined.

[Exeunt MOODY, MILL. Lady DUPE, and ROSE. Sir Mart. Why do you frown upon me so, when you know your looks go to the heart of me? What have I done besides a little lapsus linguæ?

Varn. Why, who says you have done any thing? You, a mere innocent!

Sir Mart. As the child that's to be born, in my intentions; if I know how I have offended myself any more than-in one word

Varn. But don't follow me, however: I have nothing to say to you.

Sir Mart. I'll follow you to the world's end, till you forgive me.