yon chitty-faced thing as he would have me marry,- -SO he asked what was the matter.—He asked in a surly sort of a way. It seems brother Val is gone mad, and so that put'n into a passion: but what did I know that, what's that to me?-So he asked in a surly sort of manner,and gad I answered 'en as surlily; what tho'f he be my father? I an't bound prentice to 'en ::-so faith I told'n in plain terms, if I were minded to marry I'd marry to please myself, not him: and for the young woman that he provided for me, I thought it more fitting for her to learn her sampler and make dirt-pies, than to look after a husband; for my part I was none of her man.—I had another voyage to make, let him take it as he will.

Mrs. Frail. So then, you intend to go to sea again? Ben. Nay, nay, my mind run upon you, but I would not tell him so much.-So he said he'd make my heart ache; and if so be that he could get a woman to his mind, he'd marry himself. Gad, says I, an you play the fool and marry at these years, there's more danger of your head's aching than my heart. He was woundy angry when I gav'n that wipe.-He hadn't a word to say, and so I left'n and the green girl together; mayhap the bee may bite, and he'll marry her himself; with all my heart.

Mrs. Frail. And were you this undutiful and graceless wretch to your father?

Ben. Then why was he graceless first? If I am undutiful and graceless, why did he beget me so? I did not get myself.

Mrs. Frail. O impiety! how have I been mistaken! what an inhuman merciless creature have I set my heart upon! O, I am happy to have discovered the shelves and quicksands that lurk beneath that faithless smiling face!

Ben. Hey toss? what's the matter now? why, you ben't angry, be you?

Mrs. Frail. O see me no more! for thou wert born

amongst rocks, suckled by whales, cradled in a tempest, and whistled to by winds; and thou art come forth with fins and scales, and three rows of 'tecth, a most outrageous fish of prey.

Ben. O Lord, O Lord, she's mad! poor young woman; love has turned her senses, her brain is quite overset ! Well-a-day, how shall I do to set her to rights?

Mrs. Frail. No, no, I am not mad, monster, I am wise enough to find you out. Hadst thou the impudence to aspire at being a husband with that stubborn and disobedient temper?—You that know not how to submit to a father, presume to have a sufficient stock of duty to undergo a wife? I should have been finely fobbed indeed, very finely fobbed.

Ben. Hark ye, forsooth; if so be that you are in your right senses, d'ye see; for aught as I perceive I'm like to be finely fobbed,-if I have got anger here upon your account, and you are tacked about already.—What d'ye mean, after all your fair speeches and stroking my cheeks, and kissing, and hugging, what, would you sheer off so? would you, and leave me aground?

Mrs. Frail. No, I'll leave you adrift, and go which way you will.

Ben. What, are you false-hearted, then?

Mrs. Frail. Only the wind's changed.

Ben. More shame for you :—the wind's changed! It's an ill wind blows nobody good,—mayhap I have a good riddance on you, if these be What did you mean all this while, to make a fool of me?

your

tricks.

Mrs. Frail. Any fool but a husband.

Ben. Husband! gad, I would not be your husband, if you would have me, now I know your mind, tho'f you had your weight in gold and jewels, and tho'f I loved you never so well.

Mrs. Frail. Why, canst thou love, porpoise?

Ben. No matter what I can do; don't call names,-I don't love you so well as to bear that, whatever I did.

I'm glad you show yourself, mistress.-Let them marry you, as don't know you :-gad, I know you too well, by sad experience; I believe he that marries you will go to sea in a hen-pecked frigate-I believe that, young woman-and mayhap may come to an anchor at Cuckold'spoint; so there's a dash for you, take it as you will, mayhap you may holla after me when I won't come to.

Mrs. Frail. Ha! ha ha! no doubt on't ;-
[Sings.] My true love is gone to sea--

Re-enter Mrs. FORESIGHT.

[Exit.

Mrs. Frail. O sister, had you come a minute sooner, you would have seen the resolution of a lover.-Honest Tar and I are parted,—and with the same indifference that we met.—O' my life I am half vexed at the insensibility of a brute that I despised.

Mrs. Fore. What, then, he bore it most heroically?

Mrs. Frail. Most tyrannically, for you see he has got the start of me; and I the poor forsaken maid am left complaining on the shore. But I'll tell you a hint that he has given me; Sir Sampson is enraged, and talks desperately of committing matrimony himself; if he has a mind to throw himself away, he can't do it more effectually than upon me, if we could bring it about.

Mrs. Fore. Oh, hang him, old fox! he's too cunning; besides he hates both you and me. But I have a project in my head for you, and I have gone a good way towards it. I have almost made a bargain with Jeremy, Valentine's man, to sell his master to us.

Mrs. Frail. Sell him! how?

Mrs. Fore. Valentine raves upon Angelica, and took me for her, and Jeremy says will take anybody for her that he imposes on him. Now I have promised him mountains, if in one of his mad fits he will bring you to him in her stead, and get you married together, and put to bed together; and after consummation, girl, there's no

revoking. And if he should recover his senses, he'll be glad at least to make you a good settlement.-Here they come: stand aside a little, and tell me how you like the design.

Enter VALENTINE, SCANDAL, Foresight, and Jeremy. Scan. [To JEREMY.] And have you given your master a hint of their plot upon him?

Jer. Yes, sir; he says he'll favour it, and mistake her for Angelica.

Scan. It may make us sport.

Fore. Mercy on us!

Val. Hush !—interrupt me not: I'll whisper prediction to thee, and thou shalt prophesy. I am Truth, and can teach thy tongue a new trick:-I have told thee what's past-now I'll tell what's to come. Dost thou know what will happen to-morrow?-answer me not-for I will tell thee. To-morrow, knaves will thrive through craft, and fools through fortune, and honesty will go as it did, frost-nipped in a summer suit. Ask me questions concerning to-morrow.

Scan. Ask him, Mr. Foresight.

Fore. Pray, what will be done at court?

Val. Scandal will tell you:-I am Truth, I never come there.

Fore. In the city?

Val. Oh, prayers will be said in empty churches, at the usual hours. Yet you will see such zealous faces behind the counters, as if religion were to be sold in every shop. Oh, things will go methodically, in the city; the clocks will strike twelve at noon, and the horned herd buzz in the Exchange at two. Husbands and wives will drive distinct trades, and care and pleasure separately occupy the family. Coffee-houses will be full of smoke and stratagem. And the cropt prentice, that sweeps his master's shop in the morning, may, ten to one, dirty his sheets before night. But there are two things that you

will see very strange; which are wanton wives with their legs at liberty, and tame cuckolds with chains about their necks. But hold, I must examine you before I go further; you look suspiciously. Are you a husband? Fore. I am married.

Val. Poor creature! is your wife of Covent-garden parish?

Fore. No; St. Martin's-in-the-fields.

Val. Alas, poor man! his eyes are sunk, and his hands shrivelled; his legs dwindled, and his back bowed; pray, pray, for a metamorphosis. Change thy shape, and

shake off age; get thee Medea's kettle, and be boiled anew; come forth with labouring callous hands, a chine of steel, and Atlas shoulders. Let Taliacotius trim the calves of twenty chairmen, and make thee pedestals to stand erect upon, and look matrimony in the face. Ha! ha ha! that a man should have a stomach to a wedding supper, when the pigeons ought rather to be laid to his feet, ha ha ha!

Fore. His frenzy is very high now, Mr. Scandal.
Scan. I believe it is a spring-tide.

Fore. Very likely, truly; you understand these matters; --Mr. Scandal, I shall be very glad to confer with you about these things which he has uttered-his sayings are very mysterious and hieroglyphical.

Val. Oh, why would Angelica be absent from my eyes so long?

Jer. She's here, sir.

Mrs. Fore. Now, sister.

Mrs. Frail. O Lord, what must I say?

Scan. Humour him, madam, by all means.

Val. Where is she? oh, I see her; she comes like riches, health, and liberty at once, to a despairing, starving, and abandoned wretch. Oh welcome, welcome.

Mrs. Frail. How d'ye, sir? can I serve you?

Val. Hark ye-I have a secret to tell you-Endymion and the moon shall meet us upon Mount Latmos, and