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SCENE II.-- The Street.

Both. Ha, ha, ha!
Enter DURETETE and MIRABELL,

Dur. Very pretty.-{Draws.She threaten

ed to kick me. Aye, then, you dogs, I'll murder Dur. [In a passion.)-And though I can't

ye. dance, nor sing, nor talk like you, yet I can fight; [Fights, and beats them off, MIRABELL runs you know I can, sir.

over to his side. Mir. I know thou canst, man.

Mir. Ha, ha, ha! bravely done, Duretete! Dur. 'Sdeath, sir, and I will: let me see the there you had him, noble captain; hey, they run, proudest man alive make a jest of me!

they run, Victoria, Victoria-Ha, ha, ha!”how Mir. But I'll engage to make you amends. happy am I in an excellent friend ! tell me of

Dur. Danced to death! baited like a bear! your virtuosos, and men of sense ! a parcel of ridiculed! threatened to be kicked! confusion ! sour-faced, splenetic rogues—a man of my thin sir, you set me on, and I will have satisfaction; constitution should never want a fool in his comall mankind will point at me.

pany : I don't affect your fine things that improve Mir. (Aside.}-I must give this thunderbolt the understanding, but hearty laughing to fatten some passage, or 'twill break upon my own head my carcase : and, in my conscience, a man of -look'e, Ďuretete, what do these gentlemen sense is as melancholy without a coxcomb, as a laugh at?

liou' without a jackall; he hunts for our diverEnter two Gentlemen.

sion, starts game for our spleen, and perfectly

feeds us with pleasure. Dur. At me, to be sure-Sir, what made you laugh at me?

I hate the man who makes acquaintance nice, i Gen. You're mistaken, sir; if we were mer- And still discreetly plagues me with advice; ry, we had a private reason.

Who moves by caution, and mature delays, 2 Gen. Sir, we don't know you.

And must give reasons for whate'er he says. Dur. Sir, I'll make you know me; mark and The man, indeed, whose converse is so full, observe me, I won't be named; it sha'nt be men- Makes me attentive, but it makes me dull: tioned, not even whispered, in your prayers at Give me the careless' rogue, who never thinks, church. 'Sdeath, sir, d'ye smile?"

That plays the fool as freely as he drinks. 1 Gen. Not I, upon my word.

Not a buffoon, who is buffoon by trade, Dur. Why, then, look grave as an owl in a But one that nature, not his wants have made; barn, or a friar with his crown a shaving. Who still is merry, but does ne'er design it;

Mir. [Aside to the gentlemen.)-Don't be bul And still is ridiculed, but ne'er can find it: lied out of your humour, gentlemen; the fellow's Who, when he's most in earnest, is the best ; mad; laugh at him, and I'll stand by you. And his most grave expression is a jest. 1 Gen. 'Egad, and so we will.

[Ereunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-OLD MIRABELL's house. Old Mir. That may be; for I was as mad as

he, when I begot him. Enter OLD MIRABELL and DUGARD.

Dug. Mad, sir! what d’ye mean? Dug. The lady abbess is my relation, and Dur. What do you mean, sir, by shutting up privy to the plot : your son has been there, but your sister yonder to talk like a parrot through a had no admittance beyond the privilege of the cage? Or a decoy-duck, to draw others into the grate, and there my sister refused to see him. He snare ? Your son, sir, because she has deserted went off more nettled at his repulse, than I him, he has forsaken the world; and, in three thought his gaiety could admit.

words, has oid Mir. Aye, aye, this nunnery will bring Old Mir. Hanged himself! him about, I warrant ye.

Dur. The very same-turned friar.

Old Mir. You lie, sir, 'tis ten times worse. -Enter DURETETE.

Bob turned friar! Why should the fellow shave Dur. Here, where are ye all? O! Mr Mira- his foolish crown when the same razor may cut bell, you have done fine things for your posteri- his throat ? ty--and you, Mr Dugard, may come to answer Dur. If you have any command, or you any this I come to demand my friend at your interest over him, lose not a minute : He has hands; restore him, sir, or

thrown himself into the next monastery, and has (To OLD MIRABELL. ordered me to pay off his servants, and discharge Old Mir. Restore him ! what, d'ye think I his equipage. have got him in my trunk, or my pocket!

Old Mir. Let me alone to ferret him out ; I'll Dur. Sir, he's mad, and you're the cause on't. sacrifice the abbot, if he receives hiin; I'll try

.

whether the spiritual or the natural father has Bis. Ha, ha, ha! and do you think there is any the most right to the child. But, dear captain, devotion in a fellow's going to church, when he what has he done with his estate?

takes it only for a sanctuary? Don't you know Dur. Settled it upon the church, sir. that religion consists in charity with all mankind?

Old Mir, The church! Nay, then the devil and that you should never think of being friends won't get him out of their clutches-Ten with Heaven, 'till you have quarrelled with all the thousand livresa-year upon the church! 'Tis down-world! Come, come, mind your business; Miraright sacrilege-Come, gentlemen, all bands to bell loves you; 'tis now plain, and hold him to't; work; for half that sum, one of these monasteries give fresh orders that he shan't see you : We shall protect you a traitor from the law, a rebel- get more by hiding our faces sometimes, than by lious wife from ber husband, and a disobedient exposing them: a very mask, you see, whets deson from his own father. (Exit Old MIRABELL. sire; but a pair of keen eyes through an iron

Dug. But will you persuade me, that he is grate fire double upon them, with view and dis.gone to a monastery?

guise. But I inust be gone upon my own affairs; Dur. Is your sister gone to the Filles Repen- I have brought my captain about again. ties? I tell you, sir, she's not fit for the society Ori. But why will you trouble yourself with of repenting maids.

that coxcomb? Dug. Why so, sir?

Bis. Because he is a coxcomb: had I not betDur. Because she's neither one nor the other; ter have a lover like him, that I can make an ass she's too old to be a maid, and too young to re- of, than a lover like yours, to make a fool of me? pent. [Erit; DUGARD after him. [Knocking below.) A message from Mirabell, I'll

lay my life. [She runs to the door.) Come hither, SCENE 11.The inside of a monastery ; Ori

run : thou charming nun, come hither. ANA in a nun's habit ; Bisarre.

Ori, What's the news? [Runs to her.

Bis. Don't you see who's below? Ori. I hope, Bisarre, there is no harm in jest- Ori. I see nobody but a friar. ing with this religious habit.

Bis. Ah! Thou poor blind Cupid! O' my conBiş. To me, the greatest jest in the habit is science, these hearts of ours spoil our heads intaking it in earnest: I don't understand this im- stantly! the fellows no sooner turn knaves, than prisoning people with the keys of Paradise, nor we turn fools. A friar! Don't you see a villainthe merit of that virtue, which comes by con- ous genteel mein under that cloak of hypocrisy, straint. Besides, we may own to one another, the loose careless air of a tall rake-helly fellow! that we are in the worst company when among Ori. As I live, Mirabell turned friar ! I hope, ourselves; for our private thoughts run us into in Heaven, he's not in earnest. those desires, which our pride resists from the Bis. In earnest ! Ha, ha, ha! are you in earattack of the world; and, you may remember, nest? Now's your time; this disguise has he certhe first woman met the devil when she retired tainly taken for a passport, to get in and try from her man.

your resolutions; stick to your habit, to be sure; Ori. But I'm reconciled, methinks, to the treat him with disdain, rather than anger; for mortification of a nunnery; because I fancy the pride becomes us more than passion. Remember habit becomes me.

what I say, if you would yield to advantage, and Bis. A well-contrived mortification, truly, that hold on the attack; to draw him on, keep him makes a woman look ten times handsomer than off to be sure. she did before ! Aye, my dear, were there any The cunning gainesters never gain too fast; religion in becoming dress, our sex's devotion But lose at first, to win the more at last. were rightly placed; for our toilets would do

[Exit. the work of the altar; we should all be canon- Ori. Ilis coming puts me into some ambiguity, ized.

I don't know how; I don't fear him, but I misOri. But don't you think there is a great deal trust myself ; would he were not come ! yet I of merit in dedicating a beautiful face and per- would not have him gone neither—I'm afraid to son to the service of religion?

talk with him, but I love to see him though. Bis. Not half so much as devoting them to a What a strange power has this fantastic fire, pretty fellow : If our feminality had no business That makes us dread even what we most de in this world, why was it sent hither? Let us de- sire ! dicate our beautiful minds to the service of Heaven; and for our handsome persons, they be

Enter MIRABELL in a friar's habit. come a box at the play, as well as a pew in the Mir. Save 'you, sister-Your brother, young church.

lady, having a regard for your soul's health, has Ori. But the vicissitudes of fortune, the incon- sent me to prepare you for the sacred habit by stancy of man, with other disappointments of confession. life, require some place of religion, for a refuge Ori. That's false; the cloven foot already. from their persecution.

[Aside.) My brother's care I own; and to you,

my vow.

sacred sir, I confess, that the great crying sinceremony of our eyes, so, I shall spare some which I have long indulged, and now prepare to tears to the separation. [Weeps.] That's all ;expiate, was love. My morning thoughts, my farewell. evening prayers, my daily musings, nightly cares, Mir. And must I lose her? No. [Runs and was love! my present peace, my future bliss, the catches her.] Since all my prayers are vain, Pil joy of earth, and hopes of heaven, I all contem- use the nobler argument of man, and force you ned for love!

to the justice you refuse; you're mine by preMir. She's downright mad in earnest ! death contract: And where's the vow so sacred to dis-, and confusion, I have lost her! (Aside.] You annul another? I'll urge my love, your oath, confess your fault, madam, in such moving and plead my cause 'gainst all monastic shifts terms, that I could almost be in love with the upon the earth. sin.

Ori. Unhand me, ravisher ! Would you proOri. Take care, sir; crimes, like virtues, are fane these holy walls with violence? Revenge for their own rewards; my chief delight became my all my past disgrace now offers; thy life should only grief; he, in whose breast I thought my answer this, would I provoke the law: urge me heart secure, turned robber, and despoiled the no farther, but be gone. treasure that he kept.

Mir. Inexorable woman ! let me kneel again. Mir. Perhaps, that treasure he esteems so

[Kneels. much, that, like the miser, though afraid to use it, he reserves it safe.

Enter Old MIRABELL. Ori. No, holy father: who can be miser in Old Mir. Where, where's this counterfeit another's wealth, that's prodigal of his own? His nun? heart was open, shared to all he knew; and Ori. Madness! Confusion ! I'm ruined! what, alas, must then become of mine! But Mir. What do I hear? [Puts on his hood] the same eyes, that drew his passion in, shall What did you say, sir? send it out in tears, to which now hear

Old Mir. I say she's a counterfeit, and you Mir. [Discodering himself.] No, my fair an- may be another for aught I know, sir; I have gel! but let me repent; here, on my knees, behold lost my child by these tricks, sir. the criminal, that vows repentance his. Ha ! Mir. What tricks, sir ! No concern upon her!

Old Mir. By a pretended trick, sir. A cona Ori. This turn is-odd, and the time has been, trivance to bring my son to reason, and it has that such a sudden change would have surprised made himn stark mad; I have lost him and a me into some confusion.

thousand pounds a year.. Mir. Restore that happy time; for I am now Mir. [Discovering himself.] My dear father, returned to myself; for I. want but pardon to I'm your most humble servant. deserve your favour, and here I'll fix till

Old Mir. My dear boy, [Runs and kisses him.) lent and give it.

Welcome ex inferis, my dear boy; 'tis all a trick; Ori. Grovelling, sordid man! why would you she's no more a nun than I am. act a thing to make you kneel? monarch in your Mir. No! pleasures to be slave to your faults ? Are all the Old Mir. The devil a bit. conquests of your wandering sway, your wit, your Mir. Then, kiss me again, my dear dad, for humour, fortur all reduced to the base cringing the most happy news—And now, most venerable of a bended knee? Servile and poor! Pray Hea- holy sister.

[Kneels. ven this change be real !

Aside. Your mercy and your pardon I implore, Mir. I come not here to justify my fault but For the offence of asking it before. iny submission; for though there be a meanness Look'e, my dear counterfeiting nun, take my in this humble posture, 'tis 'nobler still to bend, advice, be a nun in good earnest; women make when justice calls, than to resist conviction. the best nuns always, when they can't do other

Ori. No more thy oft repeated violated, wise. Ah, my dear father! there is a merit in words reproach my weak belief; 'tis the severest your son's behaviour that you little think; the calumny to hear thee speak; that humble pos- free deportment of such fellows as I, makes ture, which once could raise, now mortifies my more ladies religious than all the pulpits in pride. How canst thou hope for pardon from France. one, that you affront by asking it?

Ori. O! sir, how unhappily have you destroyed Mir. (Rises.] In my own cause I'll plead no what was so near perfection? He is the countermore; but give me leave to intercede for you a- feit, that has deceived you. gainst the hard injunctions of that habit, which, Old Mir. Ha! Look'e, sir, I recant; she is a for my fault, you wear.

Ori. Surprising insolence! My greatest foe Mir. Sir, your humble servant; then I'm a friar pretends to give me counsel; but I am too warm this moment. upon so cool a subject. My resolutions, sir, are Old Mir. Was ever an old fool so bantered fixed! but as our hearts were united with the by a brace of young ones ! hang you both!

you re

nun.

ance to

you're both counterfeits, and my plot's spoiled, Dur. Cry, then, handsomely; cry like a queen that's all.

in a tragedy. Ori. Shame and confusion, love, anger, and [She pretending to cry, bursts out a laughdisappointnient, will work my brain to madness.

ing, and enter two ladies laughing. [Takes off her habit. Erit. Bis. Ha, ha, ha! Mir. Ay, ay, throw by the rags ; they have Ladies both. Ha, ha, ha! served a turn for us both, and they shall e'en

Dur. Hell broke loose upon me, and all the go off together.

'furies fluttered about my ears ! Betrayed again? [Exit, throwing away the habit. Bis. That you are, upon my word, my dear

captain; ha, ha, ha! SCENE III.-Changes to OLD MIRABELL'S Dur. The lord deliver me! house.

1 Lady. What! Is this the mighty man with

the bull-face, that comes to frighten ladies! I DURETETE with a letter.

long to see him angry; come, begin. Dur. [Reads] ‘My rudeness was only a proof Dur. Ah, madam, I'm the best natured felof your humour, which I have found so agree- low in the world. able, that I own myself penitent, and willing 2 Lady. A man! We're mistaken; a man has to make any reparation upon your first appear- manners; the awkward creature is some tinkcr's

BISARRE.' trull in a periwig. Mirabell swears she loves me, and this confirms Bis. Come, ladies, let's examine him. it ; then farewell gallantry, and welcome re

[They lay hold on him. venge; 'tis my turn now to be upon the sublime; Dur. Examine! the devil you will ! I'll take her off, I warrant her.

Bis. I'll lay my life, some great dairy-maid in

man's clothes. Enter BISARRE.

Dur. They will do't;-look'e, dear Christian Well, mistress, do you love me?

women, pray, hear me! Bis. I hope, sir, you will pardon the modesty Bis. Will you ever attempt a lady's honour of

again? Dur. Of what? of a dancing devil ?- -Do Dur. If you please to let me get away with you love me, I say?

my honour, I'll do any thing in the world. Bis. Perhaps I

Bis. Will you persuade your friend to marry Dur. What?

mine? Bis. Perhaps I do not.

Dur. O yes, to be sure.
Dur. Ha! abused again ! Death, woman, Bis. And will you do the same by me?
I'll-

. Dur. Burn me if I do, if the coast be clear. Bis. Hold, hold, sir; I do, I do!

[Runs out. Dur. Confirm it, then, by your obedience; stand Bis. Ha, ha, ha! the visit, ladies, was critical there, and ogle me now, as if your heart, blood for our diversions; we'll go make an end of our and soul, were like to fly out at your eyes. First, tea.

Ereunt. the direct surprise—[She looks full upon him.] Right; next the deux yeux par oblique. She gives

Enter MIRABELL and OLD MIRABELL. him the side glance.] Right; now depart, and lan- Mir. Your patience, sir; I tell you I won't guish. [She turns from him, and looks over her marry; and, though you send all the bishops in shoulder.] Very well; now sigh. [She sighs.] Now France to persuade ine, I shall never believe drop your fan on purpose. (She' drops her fan.] their doctrine against their practice. Now take it up again : Coine now, confess your Old Mir. But will you disobey your father, faults; are not you a proud-say after me.

sir? Bis. Proud.

Mir. Would my father have bis youthful son Dur. Impertinent.

lie lazing here, bound to a wife, chained like a Bis. Impertinent.

monkey, to make sport to a woman, subject to Dur. Ridiculous.

her whims, humours, longings, vapours, and caBis. Ridiculous.

prices-to have her one day pleased, to-morrow Dur. Flirt.

peevish, the next day mad, the fourth rebellious; Bis. Puppy.

and nothing but this succession of impertinence Dur. Zoons! Woman, don't provoke me! we for ages together! Be merciful, sir, to your own áre alone, and you don't know but the devil may flesh and blood. tempt me to do you a mischief; ask my pardon Old Mir. But, sir, did not I bear all this? why iminediately.

should not you? Bis. I do, sir, I only mistook the word. Mir. Then, you think that marriage, like trea

Dur, Cry, then; have you got e'er a handker- son, should attaint the whole body? pray, colichief?

sider, sir, is it reasonable, because you throw Bis. Yes, sir,

yourself down from one story, that I must cast

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myself headlong from the garret window? You sights. Take heed, it comes now

W-What's that? would compèl me to that state, which I have Pray stand away: I have seen that face suer. heard you curse yourself, when my mother and How light my head is ! you have battled it for a whole week together, Mir. What piercing charms has beauty, evne

Old Mir. Never but once, you rogue, and that in madness! these sudden starts of undigested was when she longed for sis Flanders mares : words shoot through my soul, with more persuaAy, sir, then she was breeding of you, which sive force than all the studied art of laboured shewed what an expensive dog I should have of eloquence-Come, madam, try to repose a little. you.

Ori. I cannot; for I must be up to go to

church; and I must dress ine, put on my new Enter Petit.

gown, and be so hne, to meet my love. Hey ho! Well, Petit, how does she now?

Will you not tell me where my heart lies Pet. Mad, sir, con pompos—Ay, Mr Mirabell, buried you'll believe that I speak truth now, when I Mir My very soul is touched-Your hand, confess that I have told you hitherto nothing but my fair! lies; our jesting is come to a sad earnest; she's Ori. How soft and geutle you feel! I'll tell downright distracted.

vour fortune, friend.

Mir. How she stares upon me!
Enter BISARRE.

Ori. You have a flattering face; but 'tis a fine Bis. Where is this mighty victor? The great -I warrant you have five hundred misexploit is done; go, triumph in the glory of you. tresses-Ay, to be sure, a mistress for every conquest, inhuman, barbarous man! O'sir, (To guinea in his pocket-Will you pray for me? the old gentleman.) your wretched ward has į shall die to-morrow- -And will you ring my found a tender guardian of you! where her young assing-bell? 'innocence expected protection, here has she Mir. O woman, woman, of artifice created ! found her ruin.

whose nature, even distracted, has a cunning: Old Mir. Ay, the fault is mine; for I believe in vain let man his sense, his learning boast, that rogue won't marry, for fear of begetting when woman's madvess overrules his reason such another disobedient son as his father did. Do you know me, injured creature? I have done all I can, madam, and now can do Ori. No--but you shall be my intimate acno more than run mad for company. (Cries. quaintance---in the grave.

Weeps.

Mir. Oh tears, I must believe you! sure there's Enter DUGARD, with his sword drawn.

a kind of sympathy in madness; for even I, obDug. Away ! Revenge, revenge!

stinate as I ain, do feel my soul so tossed with Old Mir. Patience, patience, sir. [Old Mir. storms of passion, that I could cry for help as holds him.] Bob, draw. [Aside. well as she

(W'ipes his eyes. Duy. Patience! The coward's virtue, and the Ori. Wbat, have you lost your lover? No, vou brave man's failing, when thus provoked- mock me; I'll go home and pray. Villain!

Mir. Stay, my fair innocence! and hear me Mir. Your sister's frenzy shall excuse you. own my love so loud, that I may call your senses madness; and to shew my concern for what she to their place, restore them to their charming, suffers, I'll bear the villain from her brother-- happy functions, and reinstate myself into your Put up your anger with your sword; I have a favour. heart like your's, that swells at an affront receiv- Bis. Let her alone, sir, 'is all too late; she ed, but melts at an injury given : and if the trembles; hold her; her fits grow stronger by hier lovely Oriana’s grief be such a moving scene, talking; don't trouble her; she don't know you, 'twill find a part within this breast, perhaps as sir. tender as a brother's.

Old Mir. Not know him ! what then she Dug. To prove that soft compassion for her loves to see him for all that. grief, endeavour to remove it-There, there, behold an object that's infective; I cannot view

Enter DURETETE. her, but I am as mad as she : (Enter Ortana, Dur. Where are you all? What the devil! held by two maids, who put her in a chair.) A melancholy, and I here ! Are ye sad, and such a sister, that my dying parents left, with their last ridiculous subject, such a very good jest among words and blessing, to my care. Sister, dearest you as I am? sister!

[Goes to her. Mir. Away with this impertinence! this is no Old Mir. Ay, poor child, poor child, d’ye know place for bagatelle: I have murdered my honour, me?

destroyed a lady, and my desire of reparation is Ori. You ! you are Amadis de Gaul, sir--Oh! come at length too late : See, there. oh my heart! Were you never in love, fair lady? Dur. What ails her? And do you never dream of flowers and gardens? Mir. Alas! she's mad.

I dream of walking fires, and tall, gigantic Dur. Mad! dost wonder at that? By this Vol. II.

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