Lucy. As you would wish; since there is no reclaiming Vainlove. I have found out a pique she has taken at him, and have framed a letter that makes her sue for reconciliation first. I know that will do-walk in and I'll show it you. Come, madam, you're like to have a happy time on't; both your love and anger satisfied! all that can charm our sex conspire to please you.

That woman sure enjoys a blessed night,
Whom love and vengeance both at once delight.

The Street before FONDLEWIFE'S House.

Enter BELLMOUR in fanatic habit,' and SETTER.

ELL. 'Tis pretty near the hour.-[Looking

on his watch.] Well, and how, Setter, ha? does my hypocrisy fit me, ha? does it sit easy on me?

Set. O most religiously well, sir. Bell. I wonder why all our young fellows should glory in an opinion of

atheism, when they may be so much more conveniently lewd under the coverlet of religion.

Set. Sbud, sir, away quickly! there's Fondlewife just turned the corner, and's coming this way.

Bell. Gads so, there he is, he must not see me.

Enter FONDLEWIFE and BARNABY.

[Exeunt.

Fond. I say I will tarry at home.

Bar. But, sir

Fond. Good lack! I profess the spirit of contradiction. hath possessed the lad-I say I will tarry at home,

varlet!

Bar. I have done, sir; then farewell five hundred pounds!

Fond. Ha, how's that! Stay, stay, did you leave word say you, with his wife? with Comfort herself?

1 Clerical dress of the Puritan.

Bar. I did; and Comfort will send Tribulation hither as soon as ever he comes home.-I could have brought young Mr. Prig to have kept my mistress company in the mean time; but you say—

Fond. How, how, say, varlet? I say let him not come near my doors; I say he is a wanton young Levite,1 and pampereth himself up with dainties, that he may look lovely in the eyes of women.-Sincerely I am afraid he hath already defiled the tabernacle of our sister Comfort; while her good husband is deluded by his godly appearI say, that even lust doth sparkle in his eyes, and glow upon his cheeks, and that I would as soon trust my wife with a lord's high-fed chaplain.

ance.

Bar. Sir, the hour draws nigh, and nothing will be done there till you come.

Fond. And nothing can be done here till I go, so that I'll tarry, d'ye see.

Bar. And run the hazard to lose your affair, sir?

Fond. Good lack, good lack!-I protest 'tis a very sufficient vexation, for a man to have a handsome wife.

Bar. Never, sir, but when the man is an insufficient husband. 'Tis then, indeed, like the vanity of taking a fine house, and yet be forced to let lodgings to help pay the rent.

Fond. I profess a very apt comparison, varlet. Go and bid my Cocky come out to me. I will give her some instructions, I will reason with her, before I go. [Exit BARNABY]. And, in the mean time, I will reason with myself. Tell me, Isaac, why art thee jealous? why art thee distrustful of the wife of thy bosom?—because she is young and vigorous, and I am old and impotent.

1 The nickname then in vogue for a domestic chaplain. "A young Levite-such was the phrase then in use-might be had for his board, a small garret, and ten pounds a year, and might not only perform his own professional functions, might not only be always ready in fine weather for bowls and in rainy weather for shovel board, but might also save the expense of a gardener or of a groom.”—Macaulay, Hist. of England, chap. iii.

Then, why didst thee marry, Isaac ?—because she was beautiful and tempting, and because I was obstinate and doting so that my inclination was, and is still, greater than my power. And will not that which tempted thee, also tempt others, who will tempt her, Isaac ?—I fear it much. But does not thy wife love thee, nay, dote upon thee ?-yes-Why then!-Ay, but to say truth, she's fonder of me than she has reason to be; and in the way of trade, we still suspect the smoothest dealers of the deepest designs-and that she has some designs deeper than thou canst reach, th'hast experimented, Isaac—but, mum.

Enter LETITIA.

Lat. I hope my dearest jewel is not going to leave me, are you, Nykin?

Fond. Wife, have you thoroughly considered how detestable, how heinous, and how crying a sin, the sin of adultery is? have you weighed it, I say? for it is a very weighty sin; and although it may lie heavy upon thee, yet thy husband must also bear his part; for thy iniquity will fall upon his head.

Læt. Bless me, what means my dear?

Fond. [Aside.] I profess she has an alluring eye; I am doubtful whether I shall trust her, even with Tribulation himself. [Aloud.] Speak, I say, have you considered what it is to cuckold your husband?

Læt. [Aside.] I'm amazed: sure he has discovered nothing!—[Aloud.] Who has wronged me to my dearest? I hope my jewel does not think that ever I had any such thing in my head, or ever will have.

Fond. No, no, I tell you I shall have it in my head.

Læt. [Aside.] I know not what to think; but I'm resolved to find the meaning of it.-[Aloud.] Unkind dear! was it for this you sent to call me? is it not afflic tion enough that you are to leave me, but you must study to increase it by unjust suspicions ?-[Crying.] Well

well—you know my fondness, and you love to tyrannise.— Go on, cruel man! do, triumph over my poor heart, while it holds; which cannot be long, with this usage of yours. -But that's what you want.-Well, you will have your ends soon-you will-you will. Yes, it will break to oblige you. [Sighs.

Fond. [Aside.] Verily I fear I have carried the jest too far. Nay, look you now if she does not weep!-'Tis the fondest fool!-[Aloud.] Nay, Cocky, Cocky, nay, dear Cocky, don't cry, I was but in jest, I was not i'feck.

Læt. [Aside.] Oh then all's safe. I was terribly frighted.—[Aloud.] My affliction is always your jest, barbarous man!--Oh that I should love to this degree! yet

Fond. Nay, Cocky

Lat. No, no, you are weary of me, that's it ;-that's all. You would get another wife, another fond fool, to break her heart.-Well, be as cruel as you can to me, I'll and when I am dead with grief, may you pray for you; have one that will love you as well as I have done: I shall be be contented to lie at peace in my cold

since it will please you.

grave[Sighs.

Fond. [Aside.] Good lack! good lack! she would melt a heart of oak.—I profess I can hold no longer.-[Aloud.]. Nay, dear Cocky-I'feck you'll break my heart-I'feck you will. See, you have made me weep-made poor Nykin weep-Nay, come kiss, buss poor Nykin-and I won't leave thee-I'll lose all first.

Læt. [Aside.] How, heaven forbid! that will be carrying the jest too far indeed.

Fond. Won't you kiss Nykin?

Læt. Go, naughty Nykin, you don't love me.

Fond. I profess I do love thee better than five hundred