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 second[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.

Cle. That's well!

Aside. 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! Come, 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. Šir, 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 drawą. 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, he 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

did not wipe off the blood of the last man I fought with.

Cle. Come, sir, this trifling sha'nt serve your turn-Here, give me yours, and take mine. Cla. With all my heart, sir.-Now have at you!

[CLER. draws, and finds only a hilt in his hand.]

Cle. Death! you villain, do you serve me so! Cla. In love and war, sir, all advantages are fair: so we conquer, no matter whether by force or stratagem.Come, quick, sir-your life or mistress.

Cle. Neither. Death! you shall have both, or none! Here drive your sword; for only through this heart you reach Clarinda.

Cla. Death, sir! can you be mad enough to die for a woman that hates you?

Cle. If that were true, 'twere greater madness, then, to live.

Cla. Why, to my knowledge, sir, she has used you basely, falsely, ill, and for no reason.

Cle. No matter; no usage can be worse than the contempt of poorly, tamely parting with her. She may abuse her heart by happy infidelities; but, 'tis the pride of mine to be even miserably

constant.

Cla. Generous passion! You almost tempt me to resign her to you.

Cle. You cannot, if you would. I would indeed have won her fairly from you with my sword; but scorn to take her as your gift. Be quick, and end your insolence.

Cla. Yes, thus- -Most generous Clerimont, you now, indeed, have fairly vanquished me! [Runs to him.] My woman's follies, and my shame, be buried ever here.

Cle. Ha, Clarinda! Is it possible? My wonder rises with my joy !-How came you in this habit?

Cla. Now you indeed recall my blushes; but I had no other veil to hide them, while I confessed the injuries I had done your heart, in fooling with a man I never meant, on any terms, to engage with. Beside, I knew, from our late parting, your fear of losing me would reduce you to comply with sir Solomon's demands, for his interest in your favour. Therefore, as you saw, I was resolved to ruin his market, by seeming to raise it; for he secretly took the offer I made him.

Cle. 'Twas generously and timely offered; for it really prevented my signing articles to him. But, if you would heartily convince me that I shall never more have need of his interest, even let us steal to the next priest, and honestly put it out of his power ever to part us.

Cla. Why, truly, considering the trusts I have made you, 'twould be ridiculous now, I think, to deny you any thing: and if you should grow weary of me after such usage, I can't blame you.

VOL. II.

Cle. Banish that fear; my flame can never waste,

For love sincere refines upon the taste.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Enter SIR SOLOMON, with old MR WILFUL; LADY SADLIFE, and SYLVIA weeping.

Sir Sol. Troth, my old friend, this is a bad bu siness, indeed; you have bound yourself in a thousand pounds bond, you say, to marry your daughter to a fine gentleman, and she, in the mean time, it seems, is fallen in love with a stranger.

Wil. Look you, sir Solomon, it does not trouble me o' this; for, I'll make her do as I please, or I'll starve her.

Lady Sad. But, sir, your daughter tells me that the gentleman she loves is in every degree in as good circumstances as the person you design her for; and, if he does not prove himself so before to-morrow morning, she will cheerfully submit to whatever you'll impose on her.

Wil. All sham! all sham! only to gain time. I expect my friend and his son here immediately to demand performance of articles; and if her ladyship's nice stomach does not immediately comply with them, as I told you before, I'll starve

her.

Lady Sad. But, consider, sir, what a perpetual discord must a forced marriage probably produce.

Wil. Discord! pshaw, waw! One man makes as good a husband as another. A month's marriage will set all to rights, I warrant you. You know the old saying, sir Solomon-lying together makes pigs love,

Lady Sud. [To SYL.] What shall we do for you? There's no altering him. Did your lover promise to come to your assistance?

Syl. I expect him every minute; but can't foresee, from him, the least hope of my redemption.- -This is he.

for

Enter ATALL, undisguised. Atall. My Sylvia, dry those tender eyes; while there's life, there's hope. Lady Sad. Ha! is't he? but I must smother my confusion. [Aside. Wil. How now, sir! pray, who gave you commission to be so familiar with my daughter?

Atall. Your pardon, sir; but when you know me right, you'll neither think my freedom or my pretensions familiar or dishonourable.

Wil. Why, sir, what pretensions have you to her?

Atall. Sir, I saved her life at the hazard of my own that gave me a pretence to know her; knowing her made me love, and gratitude made her receive it.

Wil. Ay, sir! And some very good reasons, 3 M

best known to myself, make me refuse it. Now, what will you do?

Atall. I can't tell yet, sir; but if you'll do me the favour to let me know those reasons

Wil. Sir, I don't think myself obliged to do either; but I'll tell you what I'll do for you: since you say you love my daughter, and she loves I'll you, put you in the nearest way to get

her. Atall. Don't Wil. Not I, 'tis only thishave her.

flatter me, I beg you, sir.
upon my soul, sir! for, look you,
-get my consent, and you shall

Atall. I beg your pardon, sir, for endeavouring to talk reason to you. But, to return your raillery, give me leave to tell you, when any man marries her but myself, he must extremely ask my consent.

Wil. Before George, thou art a very pretty impudent fellow! and I'm sorry I can't punish her disobedience, by throwing her away upon thee.

Atall. You'll have a great deal of plague about this business, sir; for I shall be mighty difficult to give up my pretensions to her.

Wil. Ha! 'tis a thousand pities I can't comply with thee. Thou wilt certainly be a thriving fellow; for thou dost really set the best face upon a bad cause, that ever I saw since I was born.

Atall. Come, sir, once more, raillery apart; suppose I prove myself of equal birth and fortune to deserve her?

Wil. Sir, if you were eldest son to the Cham of Tartary, and had the dominions of the Great Mogul entailed upon you and your heirs for ever, it would signify no more than the bite of my thumb. The girl's disposed of; I have matched her already, upon a thousand pounds forfeit; and, faith, she shall fairly run for't, though she's yerked and flead from the crest to the crupper. Atall. Confusion!

Syl. What will become of me?

Wil. And if you don't think me in earnest now, here comes one that will convince you of my sincerity.

Atall. My father! Nay, then my ruin is inevitable.

Enter SIR HARRY ATALL.

Sir Har. [To ATALL.] Oh, sweet sir! have I found you at last? Your very humble servant. What's the reason, pray, that you have had the assurance to be almost a fortnight in town, and never come near me, especially when I sent you word I had business of such consequence with you?

Atall. I understood your business was to marry me, sir, to a woman I never saw: and, to confess the truth, I durst not come near you, because I was at the same time in love with one you never

saw.

Sir Har. Was you so, sir? Why, then, sir,

I'll find a speedy cure for your passion-Brother Wilful-Hey, fiddles there!

Atall. Sir, you may treat me with what severity you please; but my engagements to that lady are too powerful and fixed to let the utmost misery dissolve them.

Sir Har. What does the fool mean?

Atall. That I can sooner die than part with her.

Wil. Hey!Why, is this your son, sir Harry?

Sir Har. Hey-day!--Why, did not you know that before?

Atall. Oh, earth, and all ye stars! is this the lady you designed me, sir?

Syl. Oh, fortune! is it possible? Sir Har. And is this the lady, sir, you have been making such a bustle about? Atall. Not life, health, or happiness are half so dear to me.

Sir Sol. [Joining ATALL and SYLVIA's hands.] Loll, loll, leroll!

Atall. Oh, tranporting joy!

[Embracing SYLVIA. Sir Hur. and Wil. Loll! loll! [Joining in the tune, and dancing about them.] Sir Sol. Hey! within there! [Calls the fiddles.] By jingo, we'll make a night on't!

Enter CLARINDA and CLERIMONT. Cla. Save you, save you, good people!—I'm glad, uncle, to hear you call so cheerfully for the fiddles; it looks as if you had a husband ready for me.

Sir Sol. Why, that I may have by to-morrow night, madam; but, in the mean time, if you please, you may wish your friends joy. Cla. Dear Sylvia !

Syl. Clarinda!

Atall. Oh, Clerimont, such a deliverance!
Cle. Give you joy, joy, sir!

Cla. I congratulate your happiness, and ar pleased our little jealousies are over; Mr Clerimont has told me all, and cured me of curiosi ty for ever.

Syl. What, married?

Cla. You'll see presently. But, sir Solomon, what do you mean by to morrow? Why, do you fancy I have any more patience than the rest of my neighbours?

Sir Sol. Why, truly, madam, I don't suppose you have; but I believe to-morrow will be as soon as their business can be done; by which time

expect a jolly fox-hunter from Yorkshire : and if you are resolved not to have patience till next day, why, the same parson may toss you up all four in a dish together.

Cla. A filthy fox-hunter!

Sir Sol. Odzooks, a mettled fellow, that will ride you from day-break to sun-set! None of your flimsy London rascals, that must have a chair to carry them to their coach, and a coach

to carry them to a trapes, and a constable to carry both to the round-house.

Cla. Ay, but this fox-hunter, sir Solomon, will come home dirty and tired as one of his hounds; he'll be always asleep before he's a-bed, and on horseback before he's awake; he must rise early to follow his sport, and I sit up late at cards for want of better diversion. Put this together, my wise uncle.

Sir Sol. Are you so high fed, madam, that a country gentleman of fifteen hundred pounds ayear won't go down with you?

Cla. Not so, sir; but you really kept me so sharp, that I was e'en forced to provide for myself; and here stands the fox-hunter for my money. [Claps CLE. on the shoulder.

Sir Sol. How!

Cle. Even so, sir Solomon-Hark in your ear, sir-You really held your consent at so high a price, that, to give you a proof of my good husbandry, I was resolved to save charges, and e'en marry her without it.

Sir Sol. Hell and-

Cla. And hark you in t'other ear, sir—Because I would not have you expose your reverend age by a mistake, know, sir, I was the young spark, with a smooth face and a feather, that offered you a thousand guineas for your consent, which you would have been glad to have taken.

Care. What say you, madam, (to divert the good company) shall we send for him by way of mortification?

Lady Dain. By all means; for your sake, methinks, I ought to give him full despair.

Care. Why, then, to let you see, that 'tis a much easier thing to cure a fine lady of her sickly taste, than a lover of his impudencethere's Careless for you, without the least tincture of despair about him. [Discovers himself. All. Ha, Careless!

Lady Dain. Abused! undone !
All. Ha, ha!

Cle. Nay, now, madam, we wish you a superior joy; for you have married a man instead of a monster.

Care. Come, come, madam; since you find you were in the power of such a cheat, you may be glad it was no greater: you might have fallen into a rascal's hands; but you know I am a gentleman, my fortune no small one, and, if your temper will give me leave, will deserve

you.

Lady Sad. Come, e'en make the best of your fortune; for, take my word, if the cheat had not been a very agreeable one, I would never have had a hand in't.-You must pardon me, if I can't help laughing,

Cle. Not unlikely, sir; for I fancy they are married.

Enter LADY DAINTY and CARELESS, disguised. Lady Sad. That they are, I can assure youI give your highness joy, madam.

Lady Dain. Lard, that people of any rank shoule use such vulgar salutations! though, methinks, highness has something of grandeur in the sound. But I was in hopes, good people, that confident fellow, Careless, had been among you.

Care. Oh, madam, that's a trifle! I'll lie in the sun a whole summer for an olive complexion, to oblige you.

Lady Dain. Well, Mr Careless, I begin now to think better of my fortune, and look back with apprehension of the escape I have had; you have already cured my folly, and, were hut my health recoverable, I should think myself completely happy.

Care. For that, madam, we'll venture to save you doctor's fees;

And trust to nature: time will soon discover, Your best physician is a favoured lover.

[Exeunt omnes.