Atall. But pray, madam, why may you ask? Syl. I am too much disordered now to tell you. But, if I'm not deceived, I'm miserable! [Weeps. Atall. This is strange-How her concern transports me!

Cla. Her fears have touched me, and half persuade me to revenge them-Come, cousin, be easy: I see you are convinced he is the same, and now I'll prove myself a friend.

Syl. I know not what to think

-my senses are confounded: their features are indeed the same; and yet there's something in their air, their dress, and manner, strangely different: but, be it as it will, all right to him in presence I disclaim, and yield to you for ever.

Cla. No, cousin, believe it, both our senses cannot be deceived; he's individually the same; and, since he dares be base to you, he's miserable indeed, if flattered with a distant hope of me : I know his person and his falsehood both too well; and you shall see I will, as becomes your friend, resent it.

Atall. What means this strangeness, madam? Cla. I'll tell you, sir; and, to use few words, know then, this lady and myself have borne your faithless insolence and artifice too long: but that you may not think to impose on me, at least, I desire you would leave the house, and from this

moment never see me more.

Atall. Madam! What! what is all this?
Riddle me riddle me re;

For the devil take me

For ever from thee,

If I can divine what this riddle can be! Syl. Not moved! I'm more amazed. Atall. Pray, madam, in the name of common sense, let me know, in two words, what the real meaning of your last terrible speech was; and if I don't make you a plain, honest, reasonable answer to it, be pleased, the next minute, to blot my name out of your table-book, never more to be enrolled in the senseless catalogue of those vain coxcombs, that impudently hope to come into your favour.

Cla. This insolence grows tedious: what end can you propose by this assurance?

Atall. Hey-day!

Syl. Hold, cousin-one moment's patience : I'll send this minute again to Mr Freeman, and

if he does not immediately appear, the dispute will need no farther argument.

Atail. Mr Freeman! Who the devil's he? What have I to do with him?

Syl. I'll soon inform you, sir.

[Going, meets WISHWELL entering. Wish. Madam, here's a footman mightily out of breath, says he belongs to Mr Freeman, and desires very earnestly to speak with you.

Syl. Mr Freeman! Pray bid him come in— What can this mean?

Atall. You'll see presently.

Re-enter WISHWELL with FINDER.

Cla. Ha!

[Aside.

Syl. Come hither, friend: do you belong to M Freeman?

Fin. Yes, madam, and my poor master gives his humble service to your ladyship, and begs your pardon for not waiting on you, according to his promise; which he would have done, but for an unfortunate accident.

Syl. What's the matter?

Fin. As he was coming out of his lodgings to pay his duty to you, madam, a parcel of fellows set upon him, and said they had a warrant against him; and so, because the rascals began to be saucy with him, and my master knowing that he did not owe a shilling in the world, he drew to defend himself, and, in the scuffle, the bloody villains run one of their swords quite through his arm; but the best of the jest was, madam, that as soon as they got him into a house, and sent for a surgeon, he proved to be the wrong person; for their warrant, it seems, was against a poor scoundrel, that happens, they say, to be very like him, one Colonel Standfast.

Atall. Say you so, Mr Dog?- -If your master had been here, I would have given him as much. [Gives him a box on the ear.

Fin. Oh Lord! pray, madam, save me—I did not speak a word to the gentleman.—Oh, the devil! this must be the devil in the likeness of my

master.

Syl. Is this gentleman so very like him, say you?

Fin. Like, madam! ay, as one box on the ear is like to another; only I think, madam, my master's nose is a little, little higher.

Atall. Now, ladies, I presume the riddle's solved.

Hark you, where is your master, rascal? Fin. Master, rascal! Sir, my master's name's Freeman, and I'm a free-born Englishman; and I must tell you, sir, that I don't use to take such arbitrary socks of the face from any man that does not pay me wages; and so my master will tell you too, when he comes, sir.

Syl. Will he be here, then?

Fin. This minute, madam; he only stays to have his wound dressed.

Atall. I'm resolved I'll stay that minute out, if he does not come till midnight.

Come-

follow me, as you'd preserve my friendship. [Exit with maid. At. Death! how this news alarms me! I never felt the pains of love before.

Syl. You cannot blame me, sir, if, now we are alone, I own myself a little more surprised at her positiveness, than my woman's pride would let me confess before her face; and yet, methinks, there's a native honesty in your looks, that tells me I am not mistaken, and may trust you with my heart.

At. Oh, for pity, still preserve that tender thought, and save me from despair!

Enter CLERIMONT.

Cle. Ha! Freeman again! Is it possible! At. How now, Clerimont? what are you surprised at?

Cle. Why, to see thee almost in two places at one time; 'tis but this minute, I met the very image of thee with the mob about a coach, in the hands of a messenger, whom I had the curiosity to stop and call to, and had no other proof of his not being thee, but that the spark would not know me!

Syl. Strange! I almost think I'm really not deceived.

Cle. 'Twas certainly Clarinda I saw go out in a chair just now-it must be she-the circumstances are too strong for a mistake. [Aside. Syl. Well, sir, to ease you of your fears, now I dare own to you that mine are over.

[To ATALL. Cle. What a coxcomb have I made myself, to serve my rival even with my own mistress! But 'tis at least some ease to know him: all I have to hope is, that he does not know the ass he has made of me that might indeed be fatal to him. [Aside.

At. Faith, Clerimont, I have too much concern upon me at this time, to be capable of a banter.

Cle. Ha! he seems really touched, and I begin now only to fear Clarinda's conduct.Well, sir, if it be so, I'm glad to see a convert of you; and now, in return to the little services I have done you, in helping you to carry on your affair with both these ladies at one time, give me leave to ask a favour of you-Be still sincere, and we may still be friends.

me.

At. You surprise me-but use me as you find

Cle. Have you no acquaintance with a certain lady, whom you have lately heard me own I was unfortunately in love with?

At. Not that I know of; I'm sure not as the lady you are in love with: but, pray, why do you ask?

Cle. Come, I'll be sincere with you, too: because I have strong circumstances that convince me 'tis one of those two you have been so busy about.

At. Not she you saw with me, I hope?

Cle. No; I mean the other-But, to clear the doubt at once, is her name Clarinda?

At. I own it is: but had I the least been warned of your pretences

Cle. Sir, I dare believe you; and though you may have prevailed even against her honour, your ignorance of my passion for her makes you stand at least excused to me.

At. No; by all the solemn protestations tongue can utter, her honour is untainted yet for me; nay, even unattempted.

Cle. You own she has received your gallantries

at least?

At. Faith, not to be vain, she has indeed taken some pains to pique her cousin about me; and if her beautiful cousin had not fallen in my way at the same time, I must own, 'tis very possible I might have endeavoured to push my fortune with her; but since I know your heart, put my friendship to a trial.

Cle. Only this--if I should be reduced to ask it of you, promise to confess your imposture, and your passion to her cousin, before her face.

At. There's my hand-I'll do't, to right my friend and mistress. But, dear Clerimont, you'il pardon me if I leave you here; for my poor incognita's affairs at this time are in a very critical condition.

Cle. No ceremony-I release you.
At. Adieu!

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

Enter CLERIMONT and CARELESS. Cle. AND So you took the opportunity of her fainting to carry her off! Pray, how long did her fit last?

Care. Why, faith, I so humoured her affectation, that 'tis hardly over yet; for I told her, her life was in danger, and swore, if she would not let me send for a parson to marry her before she died, I'd that minute send for a shroud, and be buried alive with her in the same coffin: But at the apprehension of so terrible a thought, she pretended to be frightened into her right senses again; and forbid me her sight for ever. So that, in short, my impudence is almost exhausted, her affectation is as insurmountable as another's real virtue, and I must e'en catch her that way, or die without her at last,

Cle. How do you mean?

Care. Why, if I find I cannot impose upon her by humility, which I'll try, I'll even turn rival to myself in a very fantastical figure, that I'm sure she won't be able to resist. You must know, she has of late been flattered that the Muscovite Prince, Alexander, is dying for her, though he never spoke to her in his life.

Cle. I understand you: so you'd first venture to pique her against you, and then let her marry you in another person, to be revenged of you. Care. One of the two ways I am pretty sure to succeed.

Cle. Extravagant enough! Prithee, is sir Solomon in the next room?

Care. What! You want his assistance? Clarinda's in her airs again!

Cle. Faith, Careless, I am almost ashamed to tell you, but I must needs speak with him. Care. Come along, then.

[Exeunt.

Enter LADY DAINTY, LADY SADLIFE, and
CARELESS.

Lady Dain. This rude, boisterous man, has given me a thousand disorders; the colic, the spleen, the palpitation of the heart, and convulsions all over-Huh! huh! I must send for the doctor.

Lady Sad. Come, come, madam, e'en pardon him, and let him be your physician-Do but observe his penitence, so humble he dares not speak to you.

Care. [Folds his arms, and sighs.[—Oh! Lady Sad. How can you hear him sigh so? Lady Dain. Nay, let him groan-for nothing but his pangs can ease me.

Car. [Kneels, and presents her his drawn sword; opening his breast.]-Be then at once most barbarously just, and take your vengeance here!

Page. Madam, his royal highness prince Alexander, my master, has commanded me, on pain of death, thus-[Kneeling.]-to deliver this, the burning secret of his heart.

Lady Dain. Where is the prince?

Page. Reposed, in private, on a mourning pallet, till your commands vouchsafe to raise him.

Lady Sad. By all means, receive him here immediately. I have the honour to be a little known to his highness.

Lady Dain. The favour, madam, is too great to be resisted; pray, tell his highness, then, the honour of the visit he designs me, makes me thankful and impatient! Huh! Huh!

[Exit Page. Care. Are my sufferings, madam, so soon forgot, then! Was I but flattered with the hope of pity?

Lady Dain. The happy have whole days, and those they choose.-[Resenting.]-The unhappy have but hours, and those they lose.

[Exit repeating. Lady Sad. Don't you lose a minute, then.

Care. I'll warrant you ten thousand thanks, dear madam, I'll be transformed in a secon [Exeunt severally.

Enter CLARINDA in a man's habit. Cla. So! I'm in for't now! how I shall come off, I cannot tell: 'twas but a bare saving game I made with Clerimont; his resentment had brought my pride to its last legs, dissembling; and, if the poor man had not loved me too well, I had made but a dismal humble figure--I have used him ill, that's certain, and he may e'en thank himself for't-he would be sincere-well, (begging my sex's pardon) we do make the silliest tyrantswe had better be reasonable; for (to do them right) we don't run half the hazard in obeying the good sense of a lover; at least, I'm reduced now to make the experiment

come.

-Here they

Enter SIR SOLOMON and CLERIMONT. Sir Sol. What have we here! another captain? If I were sure he were a coward now, I'd kick him before he speaks-Is your business with me, sir?

Cla. If your name be sir Solomon Sadlife.

Sir Sol. Yes, sir, it is; and I'll maintain it as ancient as any, and related to most of the families in England.

Cla. My business will convince you, sir, that I think well of it.

Sir Sol. And what is your business, sir? Cla. Why, sir-You have a pretty kinswoman, called Clarinda.

Cle. Ha!

Sir Sol. And what then, sir?-Such a rogue as t'other. [Aside. Cla. Now, sir, I have seen her, and am in love with her.

Cle. Say you so, sir?—I may chance to cure you of it. [Aside. Cla. And to back my pretensions, sir, I have a good fifteen hundred pounds a-year estate, and am, as you see, a pretty fellow into the bargain. Sir Sol. She that marries you, sir, will have a choice bargain, indeed!

Cla. In short, sir, I'll give you a thousand guineas to make up the match.

Sir Sol. Hum-Aside.]-But, sir, my niece is provided for.

Sir Sol. But if she were not, sir, I must tell you, she is not to be caught with a smock-face and a feather, sir-And- -and- let me see you an hour hence. [Aside. Cla. Well said, uncle! [Aside.]-But, sir, I'm in love with her, and positively will have her. Sir Sol. Whether she likes you or no, sir? Cla. Like me! ha, ha! I'd fain see a woman that dislikes a pretty fellow, with fifteen hundred pounds a-year, a white wig, and black eyebrows.

Cle. Hark, you, young gentleman, there must go more than all this to the gaining of that lady. [Takes CLARINDA aside.

Sir Sol. [Aside.] A thousand guineas-that's five hundred more than I proposed to get of Mr Clerimont-But my honour is engaged―Ay, but then here's a thousand pounds to release it. Now, shall I take the money?—It must be so— Coin will carry it.

Cla. Oh, sir, if that be all, I'll soon remove your doubts and pretensions! Came, sir, I'll try your courage.

Cle. I'm afraid you won't, young gentleman. Cla. As young as I am, sir, you shall find I scorn to turn my back to any man.

[Exeunt CLARINDA and CLERIMONT. Sir Sol. Ha! they are gone to fight—with all my heart-a fair chance, at least, for a better bargain: for if the young spark should let the air into my friend Clerimont's midriff now, it may possibly cool his love, too, and then there's my honour safe, and a thousand guineas snug. [Erit.

SCENE II.-Changes to a field.

Enter CLARINDA and CLERIMONT. Cle. Come, sir, we are far enough.

Cla. I only wish the lady were by, sir, that the conqueror might carry her off the spot-I warrant she'd be mine.

Cle. That, my talking hero, we shall soon determine.

Cla. Not that I think her handsome, or care a rush for her.

Cle. You are very mettled, sir, to fight for a woman you don't value,

Cla. Sir, I value the reputation of a gentleman; and I don't think any young fellow ought to pretend to it, till he has talked himself into a lampoon, lost his two or three thousand pounds at play, kept his miss, and killed his man.

Cle. Very gallant, indeed, sir! but, if you please to handle your sword, you'll soon go through your course.

Cla. Come on, sir-I believe I shall give your mistress a truer account of your heart than you have done. I have had her heart long enough, and now will have yours.

Cle. Ha! does she love you, then?

[Endeavouring to draw. Cla. I leave you to judge that, sir. But I have lain with her a thousand times; in short, so long, till I'm tired of it.

Cle. Villain, thou liest! Draw, or I'll use you as you deserve, and stab you.

Cla. Take this with you first: Clarinda will never marry him, that murders me.

Cle. She may the man, that vindicates her honour- therefore, be quick, or I'll keep my word- -I find your sword is not for doing things in haste.

Cla. It sticks to the scabbard so-I believe I