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My damages I did but counterfeit,
And feigned the quarrel to enjoy you, lady.
I am as lusty, and as full of health,
As high in blood-

Mar. As low in blood, you mean:
Dishonest thoughts debase the greatest birth;
The man, that acts unworthily, though ennobled,
Sullics his honour.

Duke. Nay, nay, my Margaritta;

Come to my couch, and there let's lisp love's language.

Mur. Would you take that, which I've no right
to give?

Steal wedlock's property; and, in his house,
Beneath the roof of him, that entertains you,
Would you his wife betray? Will you become
The ungrateful viper, who, restored to life,
Venomed the breast, which saved him?
Duke. Leave these duil thoughts to mortifying

penance;

Let us, while love is lusty, prove its power.

Mar. Ill wishes, once, my lord, my mind
based :

You found my weakness, wanted to ensnare it:
Shameful I own my fault, but 'tis repented.
No more the wanton Margaritta now,

But the chaste wife of Leon. His great merit,
His manly tenderness, his noble nature,
Commands from me affection in return,
Pure as esteem can offer. He has won me;
I owe him all my heart.

Duke. Indeed, fair lady,

This jesting well becomes a sprightly beauty.
Love prompts to celebrate sublimer rights.
No more memento's; let me press you to me,
And stifle with my kisses-

Mar. Nay, then, within, there!

He swears he'll have admittance to my lady, And reels about, and clamours most outrageously.

Leon. Let him come up-wife, here's another

suitor,

We forgot; he has been sighing in the cellar,
Making my casks his mistresses.

Will your grace permit us to produce a rival?
Duke. No more on that theme, I request, don

Leon.

Leon. Here comes the porpus; he's devilish drunk.

Let me stand by.

Enter CACAFOGO drunk.

Caca. Where is my bona roba? Oh, you're all here. Why, I dont fear snap dragons--impotential, powerfully potioned—I can drink with ilector, and beat him, too. Then, what care I for captains! I'm full of Greek wine; the true, ande-tient courage. Sweet Mrs Margaritta, let me kiss thee-your kisses shall pay me for his kicking.

Enter LEON, JUAN, ALONZO, and SANCHIO.
Leon. Did you call, my wife? or you, my
lord?

Was it your grace that wanted me? No answer!
How do you, my good lord? What, out of bed!
Methinks you look but poorly on this matter.
Has my wife wounded you? You were well be-

fore.

Duke. More hurt than ever; spare your reproach;

I feel too much already.

Leon. What would you?
Caca. Sir!

Leon. Lead off the wretch.
Duke. Most filthy figure, truly.

Caca. Filthy! Oh, you're a prince; yet I can
buy all of you, your wives and all.
Juan. Sleep, and be silent.

Caca. Speak you to your creditors, good captain half-pay;

I'll not take thy pawn in.

Leon. Which of the butts is thy mistress?
Caca. Butt in thy belly.

Leon. There are two in thine, I'm sure, it is

grown so monstrous,

Caca. Butt in thy face.

Leon. Go, carry him to sleep; [Exit CACA,
When he is sober, let him out to rail,
Or hang himself; there will be no loss of him.
Enter PEREZ and ESTIFANIA.

Who's this? my Mahound cousin?

Per. Good sir, 'tis very good: would I had a
house, too,

For there's no talking in the open air.
You have a pretty seat, you have the luck on't,

Leon. I see it, sir-and now your grace shall A pretty lady, too, I have missed both;

know,

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My carpenter built in a mist, I thank him.
Do me the courtesy to let me see it,
See it once more. But I shall cry for anger.
I'll hire a chandler's shop close under ye,
And, for my foolery, sell soap and whip-cord.
Nay, if you do not laugh now, and laugh hear-
tily,

You are a fool, cǝz.

Leon. I must laugh a little;

And now I've done. Coz, thou shalt live with

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Thou art a valiant man, and thou shalt never I have two ties, mine own blood, and my mistress.

want.

Will this content thee?

Per. I'll cry, and then be thankful; Indeed I will, and I'll be honest to ye; I'd live a swallow here, I must confess. Wife, I forgive thee all, if thou be honest, And, at thy peril, I believe thee excellent. Estif. If I prove otherwise, let me beg first. Mar. Hold, this is yours, some recompense for service;

Use it to nobler ends than he, that gave it. Duke. And this is yours, your true commission, sir.

Now you're a captain.

Leon. You're a noble prince, sir;

And now a soldier.

Juan. Sir, I shall wait upon you through all fortunes.

Alon. And I.

Alt. And I must needs attend my mistress. Leon. Will you go, sister?

Alt. Yes, indeed, good brother,

Mar. Is she your sister?

Leon. Yes, indeed, good wife,

And my best sister; for she proved so, wench, When she deceived you with a loving husband. Alt. I would not deal so, truly, for a stranger. Mar. Well, I could chide ye, but it must be lovingly,

And like a sister.

I'll bring you on your way, and feast ye nobly, For now I have an honest heart to love ye, And then deliver you to the blue Neptune.

Juan. Your colours you must wear, and wear them proudly,

Wear them before the bullet, and in blood, too. And all the world shall know we're virtue's ser

vants.

Duke. And all the world shall know, a noble mind

Makes women beautiful, and envy blind.

Leon. All you who mean to lead a happy life, First learn to rule, and then to have a wife. [Exeunt omnes.

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SCENE I.-MANLY's lodgings. MANLY enters in a morning gown, followed by LORD PLAUSIBLE.

Man. PRAY, my lord, pray, my lord Plausible, give me leave! I have more of the mastiff than the spaniel in my nature; I own it; besides, I am too old now to learn to play tricks: I cannot fawn, and fetch and carry; neither will I ever practise that servile complaisance, which some people pique themselves on being masters of.

L. Plau. Well, but seriously, my dear friend, this is being singular; will you declare war against general custom; refuse to subscribe to the common forms of good breeding?

Man. Forms indeed, my lord; they are mere forms, and therefore shall not sway me. In short, I will not, as your subscribers to forms do, whisper my contempt or hatred; call a man a fool, or knave, by signs, or mouths over his shoulder, while I have him in my arms.-I will not do as you do.

L. Plau. As I do!-Heaven defend me! upon

my honour, I never attempted to abuse, or lessen any one in my life.

Man. What! you were afraid!

L. Plau. No; but seriously I hate to do a rude thing.-No, faith, I speak well of all mankind.

Man. I thought so; but know, that is the worst sort of detraction, for it takes away the reputation of the few good men in the world, by making all alike. Now I speak ill of most men, because they deserve it.

L. Plau. Well, tell not me, my dear friend, what people deserve; I, like an author in a dedication, never speak well of a man for his sake, but my own: I will not disparage any one, to disparage myself: to speak ill of people behind their backs is not pretty, and to speak ill of them to their faces, would be the most monstrous thing in nature.

Man. So that, if you was to say an unhandsome thing of any of your friends, I suppose you would chuse to do it behind their backs.

L. Plau. Oh certainly, certainly; I would do it behind their backs out of pure good manners,

Man. Very well, my lord: I have not leisure at present to examine into the propriety of your decorums: I confess, I am but an unpolished seafellow. But there is a favour, which, if your lordship would grant me

L. Plau. A favour, dear sir! you make me the happiest man in the world; pray let me know how I have it in my power to serve you.

Man. No otherwise, my lord, than by leaving me a little to myself; at present, I am really unfit for company.

L. Plau. Perhaps you have business. Man. If you have any, I would not detain your lordship.

L. Plau. Detain me! dear sir, I came on purpose to pay my respects to you: I heard of your arrival in town last night, and could not be easy. But be free with me; if my company is in the least disagreeable or inconvenient

Man. I have told your lordship, already, I had rather be alone.

L. Plau. I will lay hold then of some other opportunity of paying my most humble respects to you; and in the mean time

Enter OAKUM.

Man. Oakum! wait on his lordship down.
L. Plau. Sir, I am your most obedient.
Man. Good-bye to your lordship.
L. Plau. Your most faithful.

Man. Your servant, your servant.

L. Plau. And eternally

Man. And eternal ceremony!—

Enter MANLY and FREEMAN.

Free. But how the devil could you turn a man of his quality down stairs? You use a lord with very little ceremony it seems.

Man. A lord! What, you are one of those, who esteem men only by the value and marks, which fortune hath set upon them, and never consider intrinsic worth! but counterfeit honours will not be current with me; I weigh the man, not his title: it is not the king's inscription can make the metal better or heavier. Your lord is a leaden shilling, which you bend every way, and debases the stamp he bears, instead of being raised by it -And you, rascal, blockhead! did'nt I order you to deny me to every body? Oak. Yes, your honour; and so I would, but I was just stepped into the back-parlour to play a game at all-fours with our landlady's daughter; and, while we were wrangling about the cards, the little boy let the gentleman up, unknown to us.

Man. Well, be more careful for the future: stand at the stair-foot, and, at your peril, keep all that ask for me from coming up.

Oak. Must no one come up to you, sir?
Man. No man, sir.

Oak. A woman, an't like your honour?
Man. No woman, neither, you impertinent
rascal.

Oak. Indeed, your honour, it will be hard for me to deny a woman any thing, since we are so newly come on shore: but I'll let no old woman

L. Plau. You shall use no ceremony, by my life! come up to you.
Man. I do not intend it.

L. Plau. Where are you going then?
Man. Zounds! to see you out of doors, that I
may shut them against more welcomes.

[Exeunt MANLY and LORD PLAUSIBLE. Oak. Well said, bully-tar! He came alongside of his match, when he grappled with you, I can tell him that. Zounds, he makes no more of one of these fresh-water sparks, than a three-decker would of a bomb-boat! But he's as brave a heart as ever stept between stem and stern; and so's a sign, by his sinking our fine vessel the other day, rather than let her fall into the hands of the rascally French, when he found three or four of their piccaroons at once were too many for us. Let me sce-Tis just six weeks since we sailed out of Portsmouth harbour, and we had scarce been a month on our cruize, before we fell in with the enemy's squadron—Ah! we have made a base, broken, short voyage of it-Howsomever, he soon expects to be put into commission again, and I would go with him about the round world, if so be it was his destination; for, thof he's as crusty as any one sometimes, and will be obey'd, there's never a captain in the navy, that's a truer friend to a seaman-Avast though! He steers this way, in company of our merry lieutenant: 'tis foul weather, I doubt; I'll loof up, and get to windward of him. [Retires.

Man. Would you be witty?--You become a jest as ill as you do a horse- Begone.

[Exit OAKUM.

Free. Nay, let the poor rogue have his forecastle jests: a sailor cannot help them in a storm, scarce when a ship's sinking-But what, will you see nobody? not your friends?

Man. Friends! I have only one friend, and he, I hear, is not in town: nay, can have only one; for a true heart admits but of one friendship, as of one love. But in having found that friend, I have a thousand; for he has the cou-rage of men in despair, yet the caution and diffidence of cowards; secrecy of the revengeful, and the constancy of martyrs; one fit to advise, to keep a secret, to fight, to die for his friendBut words are but weak testimonies of his merit, and my esteem: I have trusted him, in my absence, with the care of the woman I love; which is a charge of so tender, so delicate a nature

Free. Well, but all your good thoughts are not for him alone, I hope! Pray, what do you think of me for a friend?'

Man. Of you! Why you are a latitudinarian in friendship; that is, no friend; you will side with all mankind, but suffer for none; you are, indeed, like your lord Plausible, the pink of courtesy, and therefore have no friendship.

Free. No! that's very odd doctrine, indeed.

Man. Look you, I am so much your friend, that I would not deceive you; and therefore must tell you, not only because my heart is taken up, but according to your rules of friendship, I cannot be your friend.

Free. Why, pray?

Man. Because you will say, he, that is a true friend to a man, is a friend to all his friends; but you must excuse me; I cannot wish well to a pack of coxcombs, sharpers, and scoundrels, whom I have seen you treat, I know not how often, as the dearest friends in the world.

Free. What, I suppose you have observed me in the park, and at the coffee-house, doing the business of the several places! But could you really think I was a friend to all those I bowed to, shook hands with, and received in open arms? Man. You told them you were; nay, and swore it, too; I heard you.

Free. Ay, but, when their backs were turned, did not I tell you the greater part of them were wretched, infamous fellows, whom I despised and hated?

Man. Very true; but what right had I to believe you spoke your heart to me, who professed deceiving so many?

Free. Nay, if you are such a precise adherer to matter of fact, it is in vain to argue with you; yet, surely, you would not have every man wear his opinion upon his sleeve, and find fault and quarrel with all, that he cannot in his conscience approve?

Man. I would have every man speak truth, and neither act the part of a sycophant or a coward.

Free. Yet, pray, sir, believe the friendship I offer you real, whatever I have professed to others-Try me at least.

Man. Why, what would you do for me? However, spare yourself the trouble of professing; for, go as far as you will-here comes one will say as much at least

Enter FIDELIA, in men's clothes. Don't you love me devilishly, too, my little volunteer? as well as he, or any man can?

Fide. Better than any man can love you, my dear captain: as well as you do truth and honour, sir: as well

Man. Nay, good young gentleman, enough for shame! Sure you forget that I am an unsucccessful man; that I have met with nothing abroad, but losses and disappointments; and am like to find nothing at home but frowns and vexation! Why do you follow me, then, flatter my vanity now; since, so far from being able to befriend you, I stand in need of a patron myself?

Fide. I never followed reward or preferment, sir, but you alone; and, were you this instant to embark on the most hazardous expedition, I would cheerfully risk my life for the bare pleasure of serving with you.

Man. Nay, hold there, sir; did not I see you," during the engagement, more afraid

Fide. Yet, do me justice, sir: when we took to our long-boat, on your giving orders to sink the ship, did I shew any signs of dread or weariness; though the waves broke over us on every side, and the night was so dark?→

Man. Ay, ay, you were in haste to get to land: the apprehension of death made you insensible of danger, and so you were valiant out of fear.

Fide. Well, sir, 'tis in vain for me to avow my sentiments, since you are determined not to believe me; but one day or other, perhaps—

Free. Poor lad! you bring tears into his eyes: consider his youth and inexperience, and make some allowances.

Man. What, does he cry?-No more, you milksop! Dry your eyes: I will never make you afraid again; for of all men, if I had occasion, you should not be my second; and when I return to sea

you:

Fide. You will not leave me behind? Man. Leave you behind! Ay, ay; you are a hopeful youth for the shore only; you have a smock-face, and an officious readiness about you may get yourself recommended to some great man by flattering his valet-de-chambre; or, who knows, some liquorish old woman, or wanton young one, may take a fancy to you, allow you a conditional annuity, and make your fortune that

way.

Fide. Sure, sir, you are industrious to find yourself reasons for an aversion to me: do you think; then, I am capable of being the despicable wretch, you describe?

Man. Why, don't I know you to be a coward, sir; a wretch capable of any thing?

Fide. Yet consider, sir; do not turn me off to beggary and ruin: when I came to you, I told you I was helpless and friendless.

Man. Very well, sir-I will provide you with half a score friends, which will help you a little : in the mean time, be gone; go! you will fare better in any place than with me.

Fide. I can fare well no where, lost as I am; I pursue happiness, but at every turn I meet complicated misery! [Aside.] [Exit.

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