Sir Samp. Sleep, Quotha! No, why you would not fleep o' your Wedding-Night? I'm an older Fellow than you, and don't mean to fleep.

Ben. Why there's another Match now, as thof' a couple of Privateers were looking for a Prize, and fhould fall foul of one another. I'm forry for the young Man with all my Heart. Look you, Friend, if I may advise you, when he's going, for that you must expect, I have Experience of her, when fhe's going, let her go. For no Matrimony is tough enough to hold her, and if she can't drag her Anchor along with her, fhe'll break her Cable, I can tell you that. Who's here? the Madman?

4

SCENE, The Laft.

Valentine, Scandal, Sir Sampfon, Angelica, Forefight, Mrs. Forefight, Tattle, Mrs. Frail, Ben, Jeremy, Buckram.

Val. No; here's the Fool; and if occafion be, I'll give it under my Hand.

Sir Samp. How now?

Val. Sir, I'm come to acknowledge my Errors, and ask your Pardon.

Sir Samp. What, have you found your Senfes at last then? In good time, Sir.

Val. You were abus'd, Sir, I never was distracted.
Fore. How! not mad! Mr. Scandal.

Scan. No, really, Sir; I'm his Witness, it was all Counterfeit.

Val. I thought I had Reasons-But it was a poor Contrivance, the Effect has fhewn it fuch.

Sir Samp. Contrivance, what to cheat me? to cheat your Father! Sirrah, could you hope to profper?

Val. Indeed, I thought, Sir, when the Father endeavoured to undo the Son, it was a reasonable return of Nature.

Sir Samp. Very good, Sir Mr. Buckram, are you ready? Come, Sir, will you fign and feal?

Val. If you pleafe, Sir; but first I would ask this Lady one Question.

Sir Samp.

Sir Samp. Sir, you must ask me leave firft; that Lady? No, Sir; you fhall ask that Lady no Questions, 'till you have ask'd her Bleffing, Sir; that Lady is to be my Wife.

Val I have heard as much, Sir; but I wou'd have it from her own Mouth.

Sir Samp. That's as much as to fay, I lye, Sir, and you don't believe what I fay.

Val. Pardon me, Sir. But I reflect that I very lately counterfeited Madness; I don't know but the Frolick may go round.

Sir Samp. Come, Chuck, fatisfy him, anfwer him; -Come, Come, Mr. Buckram, the Pen and Ink. Buckr. Here it is, Sir, with the Deed, all is ready. [Valentine goes to Angelica. Ang. 'Tis true, you have a great while pretended Love to me; nay, what if you were fincere? Still you muft pardon me, if I think my own Inclinations have a better Right to difpofe of my Perfon, than yours.

Sir Samp. Are you answer'd now, Sir?

Val Yes, Sir.

Sir Samp. Where's your Plot, Sir? and your Contrivance now, Sir? Will you fign, Sir? Come, will you fign and feal?

Val. With all my Heart, Sir.

Scan. 'Sdeath, you are not mad indeed, to ruin yourself? Val. I have been disappointed of my only Hope; and he that lofes Hope may part with any thing. I never valu'd Fortune, but as it was fubfervient to my Pleasure; and my only Pleasure was to please this Lady: I have made many vain Attempts, and find at laft that nothing but my Ruin can effect it: Which for that Reason, I will fign Give me the Paper.

to

Ang. Generous Valentine!

Buckr. Here is the Deed, Sir.

[Afide.

Val. But where is the Bond, by which I am oblig'd to fign this?

Buckr. Sir Sampson, you have it.

Ang. No, I have it; and I'll ufe it, as I wou'd every thing that is an Enemy to Valentine. [Tears the Paper. Sir Samp. How now!

Val. Ha!

Ang.

Ang. Had I the World to give you, it cou'd not make me worthy of fo generous and faithful a Paffion: Here's my Hand, my Heart was always yours, and struggl'd very hard to make this utmoft Trial of your Virtue.

[To Valentine. Val. Between Pleasure and Amazement, I am loftBut on my Knees I take the Bleffing.

Sir Samp. Oons, what is the Meaning of this? Ben. Mefs here's the Wind chang'd again. Father, you and I may make a Voyage together now.

Ang. Well, Sir Sampfon, fince I have plaid you a Trick, I'll advise you, how you may avoid such another. Learn to be a good Father, or you'll never get a fecond Wife. I always lov'd your Son, and hated your unforgiving Nature. I was refolv'd to try him to the utmoft; I have try'd you too, and know you both. You have not more Faults than he has Virtues; and 'tis hardly more Pleasure to me, that I can make him and myself happy, than that I can punish you.

Val. If my Happiness cou'd receive Addition, this kind Surprize wou'd make it double.

Sir Samp. Oons you're a Crocodile.

Fore. Really, Sir Sampson, this is a fudden Eclipfe. Sir Samp. You're an illiterate old Fool, and I'm another.

Tatt. If the Gentleman is in Disorder for want of a Wife, I can fpare him mine. Oh are you there, Sir? I'm indebted to you for my Happiness. [To Jeremy. Jere. Sir, I ask you ten thousand Pardons, 'twas an arrant Mistake-You fee, Sir, my Master was never mad, nor any thing like it-Then how cou'd it be otherwise?

Val. Tattle, I thank you, you would have interpofed between me and Heav'n'; but Providence laid Purgatory in your way You have but Juftice.

Scan. I hear the Fiddles that Sir Sampson provided for his own Wedding; methinks 'tis pity they fhou'd not be employ'd when the Match is fo much mended. Valentine, tho' it be Morning, we may have a Dance.

Val. Any thing, my Friend, every thing that looks like Joy and Transport.

Scan. Call 'em, Jeremy.

Ang

Ang. I have done diffembling now, Valentine; and if that Coldness which I have always worn before you, fhould turn to an extreme Fondness, you must not fufpect it.

Val. I'll prevent that Sufpicion For I intend to dote to that immoderate degree, that your Fondness fhall never diftinguish itself enough to be taken notice of. If ever you ferm to love too much, it must be only when I can't love enough.

Ang. Have a care of Promifes; you know you are apt to run more in Debt than you are able to pay.

Val. Therefore I yield my Body as your Prisoner, and make your best on't.

Scan. The Mufick ftays for you.

[Dance. Scan. Well, Madam, you have done Exemplary Juftice, in punishing an inhuman Father, and rewarding a faithful Lover: But there is a third good Work, which I, in particular, muft thank you for; I was an Infidel to your Sex, and you have converted me -For now I am convinc'd that all Women are not like Fortune, blind in beftowing Favours, either on those who do not merit, or who do not want 'em.

Ang. 'Tis an unreasonable Accufation, that you lay upon our Sex: You tax us with Injuftice, only to cover your own want of Merit. You would all have the Reward of Love; but few have the Conftancy to ftay 'till it becomes your due. Men are generally Hypocrites and Infidels, they pretend to Worship, but have neither Zeal nor Faith: How few, like Valentine, would perfevere even to Martyrdom, and facrifice their Intereft to their Contancy! In admiring me, you misplace the Novelty.

The Miracle to Day is, that we find

A Lover true: Not that a Woman's Kind.

1

EPILOGUE,

Spoken at the Opening of the New Houfe.

By Mrs. B RACE GIRDLE.

URE Providence at firft defign'd this Place To be the Player's Refuge in Diftrefs; For fill in every Storm, they all run hither, As to a Shed, that shields 'em from the Weather. But thinking of this Change which laft befel us, It's like what I have heard our Poets tell us : For when behind our Scenes, their Suits are pleading, To help their Love, fometimes they fhew their Reading; And wanting ready Cafh to pay for Hearts, They top their Learning on us, and their Parts. Once of Philofophers they told us Stories, Whom, as I think, they call'd-Py-Pythagories, I'm fure'tis fome fuch Latin Name they give 'em, And we, who know no better, muft believe 'em. Now to thefe Men (fay they) fuch Souls were giv'n, That after Death ne'er went to Hell, nor Heav'n, But liv'd, I know not how, in Beafts; and then When many Years were paft, in Men again. Methinks, we Players resemble fuch a Soul, That, does from Bodies, we from Houses ftrole. Thus Ariftotle's Soul, of old that was, May now be damn'd to animate an Afs; Or in this very Houfe, for ought we know, Is doing painful Penance in fome Beau:

And