light, they're all so; they're cozening mad; they're brawling mad; they're proud mad; I just now came from a whole world of mad women, that had almost-What, is she dead?

Mir. Dead! Heavens forbid!

Dur. Heavens further it! for 'till they be as cold as a key, there's no trusting them; you're never sure that a woman's in earnest, till she is laid in her coffin. Shall I talk to her? Are you mad, mistress?

Bis. What's that to you, sir?

Dur. Oons, madam, are you there? [Runs off. Mir. Away, thou wild buffoon! how poor and mean this humour now appears! His follies and my own, I here disclaim; this lady's frenzy has restored my senses; and was she perfect now, as once she was, (before you all I speak it) she should be mine; and, as she is, my tears and prayers shall wed her,

Dug. How happy had this declaration been some hours ago!

Bis. Sir, she beckons to you, and waves us to go off; come, come, let's leave them. [Exeunt omnes, but MIR. and ORI.

Ori. Oh, sir! Mir. Speak, my charming angel! if your dear senses have regained their order; speak, fair, and bless me with the news.

Ori. First, let me bless the cunning of my sex, that happy counterfeited frenzy, that has restored to my poor labouring breast the dearest, best beloved of men.

Mir. Tune, all ye spheres, your instruments of joy, and carry round your spacious orbs, the happy sound of Oriana's health! her soul, whose harmony was next to your's, is now in tune again; the counterfeiting fair has played the fool

She was so mad to counterfeit for me;
I was so mad to pawn my liberty:
But now we both are well, and both are free. S
Ori. How, sir, free!

have done it more effectually. Take her into your charge; and have a care she don't relapse; if she should, employ me not again, for I am no more infallible than others of the faculty; I do cure sometimes.

Ori. Your remedy, most barbarous man! will prove the greatest. poison to my health; for though my former frenzy was but counterfeit, I now shall run into a real madness.

[Exit; OLD MIR. after. Dug. This was a turn beyond my knowledge; I'm so confused, I know not how to resent it.

[Erit. Mir. What a dangerous precipice have I 'scaped! Was not I just now upon the brink of destruction?

Enter DURETETE.

Oh, my friend, let me run into thy bosom ! ne lark, escaped from the devouring pounces of a hawk, quakes with more dismal apprehension. Dur. The matter, man!

Mir. Marriage! hanging! I was just at the gallows-foot, the running noose about my neck, and the cart wheeling from mee-Oh-I shan't be myself this month again.

Dur. Did not I tell you so? They are all alike, saints or devils: their counterfeiting can't be reputed a deceit, for 'tis the nature of the sex, not their contrivance.

Mir. Ay, ay; there's no living here with security; this house is so full of stratagem and design, that I must abroad again.

Dur. With all my heart; I'll bear thee company, 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.

Ori. Monster! you won't disgrace me? Mir. O' my faith, but I will; here, come in, gentlemen-A miracle! a miracle! the woman's dispossessed; the devil's vanished.

Enter OLD MIRABELL and DUGARD. Old Mir. Bless us, was she possessed? Mir. With the worst of demons, sir, a marriage-devil, a horrid devil! Mr Dugard, don't be surprized; I promised my endeavours to cure your sister; no mad doctor in Christendom could

3

one:

What makes the world attend and crowd the great?

Hopes, interest, and dependence, make their

state:

Behold the anti-chamber filled with beaux,
A horse's levee filled with courtly crows.
Though grumbling subjects make the crown their
sport,

Hopes of a place will bring the sparks to court.
Dependence even a father's sway secures,
For though the son rebels, the heir is yours.

SCENE I.-The street before the Playhouse.

Enter MIRABELL and DURETETE as coming from the play.

Dur. How d'ye like this play?

Mir. I liked the company; the lady, the rich beauty in the front-box, had my attention: These impudent poets bring the ladies together to support them, and to kill every body else.

For deaths upon the stage the ladies cry,
But ne'er mind us, that in the audience die :
The poet's hero should not move their pain,
But they should weep for those their eyes have
slain.

Dur. Hoyty, toyty! did Phillis inspire you with all this?

Mir. Ten times more; the playhouse is the element of poetry, because the region of beauty: the ladies, methinks, have a more inspiring triumphant air in the boxes, than any where else; they sit cominanding on their thrones with all their subject-slaves about them: Their best clothes, best looks, shining jewels, sparkling eyes, the treasure of the world in a ring. Then there's such a hurry of pleasure to transport us; the bustle, noise, gallantry, equipage, garters, feathers, wigs, bows, smiles, ogles, love, music, and applause I could wish that my whole life long were the first night of a new play.

Dur. The fellow has quite forgot this journey; have you bespoke post-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 your's to the world's end.

Dur. Hast thou the impudence to promise thyself a lady of her figure and quality in so short a time?

Mir. Yes, sir-I have a confident address, no disagreeable person, and five hundred Louis d'Ors in my pocket.

Dur. Five hundred Louis d'Ors! You a'n't mad?

Mir. I tell you, she'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 outsparkled the dead ones by a million.

Dur. But you have owned to me, that, abating Oriana's pretensions to marriage, you loved her passionately; then, how can you wander at this rate?

Mir. I longed for a partridge t'other day off the king's plate; but d'ye think, because I could not have it, I must eat nothing?

abroad by following strangers; you forget your leap out of the courtezan's window at Bologna, to save your fine ring there.

Mir. My ring's a trifle; there's nothing we possess comparable to what we desire-be shy of a lady bare-faced in the front-box, with a thousand pounds in jewels about her neck! For shame! no more.

Enter ORIANA, in boy's clothes, with a letter.
Ori. Is your name Mirabell, sir?
Mir. Yes, sir.

Ori. A letter from your uncle in Picardy. [Gives the letter. Mir. [Reads.] The bearer is the son of a protestant gentleman, who, flying for his religion, left me the charge of this youth [a pretty boy.]. He's fond of some handsome service, that may afford him opportunity of improvement; your care of him will oblige Has't a mind to travel, child?

Yours.'

Ori. 'Tis my desire, sir; I should be pleased to serve a traveller in any capacity.

Mir. A hopeful inclination; you shall along with me into Italy, as my page.

Dur. I don't think it safe; the rogue's [Noise without.] too handsome-The play's done, and some of the ladies come this way.

Enter LAMORCE, with her train borne up by a page.

Mir. Duretete, the very dear, identical she!
Dur. And what then?
Mir. Why, 'tis she.

Dur. And what then, sir?

Mir. Then! Why- -Look'e, sirrah, the first piece of service I put upon you, is, to follow that lady's coach, and bring me word where she lives. [TO ORIANA.

Ori. I don't know the town, sir, and am afraid of losing myself.

Mir. Pshaw!

Lam. These servants are the plague of our lives; what shall I do?

Mir. By all my hopes, fortune pimps for me; now, Duretete, for a piece of gallantry. Dur. Why, you won't, sure?

equipage, whilst mine waits below; and would

[Aside.

Lam. Sir, I won't presume to be troublesome, for my habitation is a great way off.

Dur. Very true, madam, and he's a little engaged; besides, madam, a hackney-coach will do as well, madam.

Mir. Rude beast, be quiet! [To DURETETE.] The farther from home, inadam, the more occasion you have for a guard-pray, madam— Lam. Lard, sir

[He seems to press, she to decline it, in dumb shew.]

Dur. Ah! The devil's in his impudence! now he wheedles, she smiles; he flatters, she simpers; he swears, she believes; he's a rogue, and she's a in a moment.

W

Mir. Without there! my coach; Duretete, wish me joy. [Hands the lady out. Dur. Wish you a surgeon! Here, you little Picard, go follow your master, and he'll lead

you-

Ori. Whither, sir?

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 some harm; I don't like her.

Dur. Why, how now, Mr Page, do you start up to give laws of a sudden? do you pretend to rise at court, and disapprove the pleasure of your betters? Look'e, sirrah, if ever you would rise by a great man, be sure to be with him in all his little actions, and, as a step to your advancement, follow your master immediately, and make it your hope that he goes to a bawdy-house. Ori. Heavens forbid !

[Exit. Dur. Now would I sooner take a cart in company of the hangman, than a coach with that woinan: What a strange antipathy have I taken against these creatures! a woman, to me, is aversion upon aversion; a cheese, a cat, a breast of mutton, the squalling of children, the grinding of knives, and the snuff of a candle. [Exit.

SCENE II-A handsome apartment.

Enter MIRABEL and LAMORCE. Lam. To convince me, sir, that your service was something more than good breeding, please to lay out an hour of your company upon my desire, as you have already upon my necessity.

Mir. Your desire, madam, has only prevented ny request: My hours! make them yours, madam; eleven, twelve, one, two, three, and all that belong to those happy minutes.

Lam. But I must trouble you, sir, to dismiss your retinue; because an equipage at my door, at this time of night, will not be consistent with my reputation.

Mir, By all means, madam; all but one little

Lam. Innocence, sir! I should be sorry, if you made any sinister constructions of my freedom.

Mir. O madam, I must not pretend to remark upon any body's freedom, having so entirely forfeited my own.

Lam. Well, sir, 'twere convenient towards our easy correspondence, that we entered into a free confidence of each other, by a mutual declaration of what we are, and what we think of one another. Now, sir, what are you?

Mir. In three words, madam-I am a gentleman; I have five hundred pounds in my pocket, and a clean shirt on.

Lam. And your name is

Mir. Mustapha. Now, madam, the inventory of your fortunes.

Lam. My name is Lamorce; my birth noble; I was married young, to a proud, rude, sullen, impetuous fellow; the husband spoiled the gentleman; crying ruined my face, till, at last, I took heart, leaped out of a window, got away to my friends, sued my tyrant, aud recovered my for tune- -I lived, from fifteen to twenty, to please a husband; from twenty to forty, I'm resolved to please myself; and, from thence upwards, I'll humour the world.

Mir. The charming wild notes of a bird broke out of its cage!

Lum. I marked you at the play, and something I saw of a well-furnished, careless, agreeable tour about you. Methought your eyes made their mannerly demands with such an arch-modesty, that I don't know how-but I am eloped. Ha, ha, ha! I'm eloped.

Mir. Ha, ha, ha! I rejoice in your good for tune with all my heart,

Lam. O, now I think on't, Mr Mustapha, you have got the finest ring there, I could scarcely believe it right; pray, let me see it.

Mir. Hum! Yes, madain, 'tis, 'tis right-but, but, but, but, but, it was given me by my mother; an old family ring, madam, an old-fashioned family ring.

Lam. Ay, sir-If you can entertain yourself with a song for a moment, I'll wait on you immediately; come in there.

Enter Singers.

Call what you please, sir.

Mir. The new song" Prithee, Phillis."

SONG.

Certainly the stars have been in a strange intriguing humour, when I was born-Ay, this night should I have had a bride in my arms, and that I should like well enough: But what should I have to-morrow night? The same. And what next night? The same. And what next night? The

Mir. No, gentlemen-but I'll bestow it with [Offering it.

I love the fair who freely gives her heart,
That's mine by ties of nature, not of art;
Who boldly owns whate'er her thoughts indite,
And is too modest for a hypocrite.

LAMORCE appears at the door. As he runs towards her, four Bravoes step in before her. He starts back.

She comes, she comes-hum, hum-bitch-murdered, murdered to be sure! The cursed strumpet! To make me send away my servants-Nobody near me! These cut-throats always make sure work. What shall I do? I have but one way. Are these gentlemen your relations, madam?

Lam. Yes, sir.

Mir. Gentlemen, your most humble servant; sir, your most faithful; yours, sir, with all my heart; your most obedient-come, gentlemen, [Salutes all round.] please to sit-no ceremony; next the lady, pray sir.

Lam. Well, sir, and how d'ye like my friends? [They all sit. Mir. O, madam, the most finished gentlemen! I was never more happy in good company in my life; I suppose, sir, you have travelled?

1 Bra. Yes, sir.

Mir. Which way, may I presume? 1 Bra. In a western barge, sir. Mir. Ha, ha, ha! very pretty; facetious pretty gentleman!

Lum. Ha, ha, ha! sir, you have got the prettiest ring upon your finger there—

Mir. Ah! madam, 'tis at your service with all my heart. [Offering the ring. Lam. By no means, sir, a family-ring! [Takes it. Mir. No matter, madam. Seven hundred pound, by this light. [Aside.

2 Bra. Pray, sir, what's o'clock? Mir. Hum! sir, I have left my watch at home.

2 Bra. I thought I saw the string of it just

now

Mir. Ods my life, sir, I beg your pardon, here it is but it don't go. [Putting it up. Lam. O dear sir, an English watch! Tompion's, I presume?

Mir. D'ye like it, madam-no ceremony'tis at your service with all my heart and soulTompion's! Hang ye. [Aside.

1 Bra. But, sir, above all things, I admire the fashion and make of your sword-hilt.

Mir. I'm mighty glad you like it, sir.

1 Bra. Will you part with it, sir?

Mir. Sir, I won't sell it.

1 Bra. Not sell it, sir?

1 Bra. O, sir, we shall rob you.

Mir. That you do, I'll be sworn. [Aside.] I have another at home; pray, sir-Gentlemen, you're too modest; have I any thing else that you fancy?-Sir, will you do me a favour? [To the 1st Bravo.] I am extremely in love with that wig which you wear; will you do me the favour to change with me?

1 Bra. Look'e, sir, this is a family wig, and I would not part with it, but if you like itMir. Sir, your most humble servant.

[They change wigs. 1 Bra. Madam, your most humble slave. [Goes up foppishly to the lady, salutes her. 2 Bra. The fellow's very liberal; shall we murder him?

1 Bra. What! Let him escape to hang us all! And I to lose my wig! no, no; I want but a handsome pretence to quarrel with him, for you know we must act like gentlemen. Here, some wine-[Wine here.] Sir, your good health.

[Pulls MIRABELL by the nose.

Mir. Oh! Sir, your most humble servant; a pleasant frolic enough, to drink a man's health, and pull him by the nose: ha, ha, ha! the pleasantest pretty-humoured gentleman!

Lam. Help the gentleman to a glass.

[MIRABELL drinks. 1 Bra. How d'ye like the wine, sir?

Mir. Very good o' the kind, sir: But I tell ye what; I find we're all inclined to be frolicsome, and, e'gad, for my own part, I was never more disposed to be merry; let's make a night on't, ha! This wine is pretty, but I have such Burgundy at home! Look'e, gentlemen, let me send for half a dozen flasks of my Burgundy; I defy France to match it; 'twill make us all life, all air; pray, gentlemen. 2 Bra. Eh! Shall we have his Burgundy?

1 Bra. Yes, faith, we'll have all we can; here, call up the gentleman's servant-What think you, Lamorce?

· Lam. Yes, yes- -your servant is a foolish country boy, sir; he understands nothing but in

1 Bra. Sir, you were pleased to like my wig, have you any fancy for my coat?-Look'e, sir, it has served a great many honest gentlemen very faithfully.

Mir. Not so faithfully, for I'm afraid it has got a scurvy trick of leaving all its masters in necessity. The insolence of these dogs is beyond their cruelty.

Lam. You're melancholy, sir.

[Aside.

Mir. Only concerned, madam, that I should have no servant here but this little boy-he'll make some confounded blunder, I'll lay my life on't; I would not be disappointed of my wine for the universe.

Lam. He'll do well enough, sir; but supper's ready, will you please to eat a bit, sir?

Mir. O, madam, I never had a better stomach in my life.

Lam. Come, then-we have nothing but a plate of soup.

Mir. Ah! The marriage-soup I could dispense with now. [Aside.] [Exit, handing the lady. 2 Bra. That wig won't fall to your share. 1 Bra. No, no, we'll settle that after supper; in the mean time, the gentleman shall wear it. 2 Bra. Shall we dispatch him?

3 Bra. To be sure. I think he knows me. 1 Bra. Ay, ay, dead men tell no tales; I wonder at the impudence of the English rogues, that will hazard the meeting a man at the bar, whom they have encountered upon the road! I han't the confidence to look a man in the face, after I have done him an injury; therefore, we'll murder him. [Exeunt.

Going off, BISSARRE meets him.

Bis. Who comes there? stand! Dur. Hey day! now she's turned dragoon. Bis. Look'e, sir, I'm told you intend to travel again. I design to wait on you as far as Italy. Dur. Then, I'll travel into Wales.

Bis. Wales! what country's that?

you're never out of the way, 'cause there's no such thing as a high road.

Bis. Rather always in a high road, 'cause you travel all upon hills; but, be it as it will, I'll jog along with you.

Dur. But we intend to sail to the East Indies. Bis. East or west, 'tis all one to me; I'm tight and light, and the fitter for sailing.

Dur. But suppose we take through Germany, and drink hard?

Bis. Suppose I take through Germany, and drink harder than you?

Dur. Suppose I go to a bawdy-house? Bis. Suppose I shew you the way? Dur. 'Sdeath, woman, will you go to the guard with me, and smoke a pipe?

Bis. Allons donc !

Dur. The devil's in the woman! hang myself?

Bis. There I'll leave you.

suppose I

Dur. And a happy riddance; the gallows is welcome.

Bis. Hold, hold, sir.-[Catches him by the arm going.]-one word before we part.

Dur. Let me go, madam, or I shall think that you're a man, and perhaps may examine you.

Bis. Stir, if you dare; I have still spirits to attend me; and can raise such a muster of fairies, as shall punish you to death-come, sir, stand there, now, and ogle me :-[He frowns upon her. ---Now a languishing sigh !-[He groans.]-Now run and take up my fan,-faster.-[He runs and takes it up.1-Now play with it handsomely. Dur. Aye, aye.

[He tears it all in pieces. Bis. Hold, hold, dear humourous coxcomb; captain, spare my fan, and I'll-why, you rude, inhuman monster, don't you expect to pay for this?

Dur. Yes, madam, there's twelve-pence; for that is the price on't.

Bis. Sir, it cost a guinea.

Dur. Well, madam, you shall have the sticks

again.

[Throws them to her, and exit. Bis. Ha, ha, ha! ridiculous below my concern. I must follow him, however, to know if he can give me any news of Oriana.

[Erit.

SCENE IV.-Changes to LAMORCE's lodgings.

Enter MIRABELL, solus.

Mir. Bloody hell-hounds! I overheard you: was not I two hours ago the happy, gay, rejoicing Mirabell? How did I plume my hopes in a faircoming prospect of a long scene of years? Life courted me with all the charms of vigour, youth, and fortune; and to be torn away from all my promised joys is more than death; the manner, too-by villains! Oh, my Oriana, this very mo