Re-enter EUPHRONIA weeping, and leaning upon DORIS, both in deep mourning.

Lear. How now! what's here? all in deep mourning!-Here's a provoking baggage for you. [The trumpets sound a melancholy air till Æsop appears; and then the violins and hautboys strike up a Lancashire hornpipe.

Re-enter Esor in a gay foppish dress, long peruke, &c., a gaudy equipage of Pages and Footmen, all enter in an airy brisk manner.

Esop. [In an affected tone to EUPHRONIA.] Gad take my soul, mame, I hope I shall please you now!-Gentlemen all, I'm your humble servant. I'm going to be a very happy man, you see.-[To EUPHRONIA.] When the heat of the ceremony's over, if your ladyship pleases, mame, I'll wait upon you to take the air in the Park.-Hey, page; let there be a coach and six horses ready instantly. [Observing her dress.] I vow to Gad, mame, I was so taken up with my good fortune, I did not observe the extreme fancy of your ladyship's wedding-clothes-Infinitely pretty, as I hope to be saved! a world of variety, and not at all gaudy! [To LEARCHUS.] My dear father-in-law, embrace me.

Lear. Your lordship does me too much honour. -[Aside.] I shall be a great man.

Esop. Come, gentlemen, are all things ready? Where's the priest?

Priest. Here, my noble lord.

Esop. Most reverend, will you please to say grace that I may fall to, for I'm very hungry, and here's very good meat.-But where's my rival all this while? The least we can do, is to invite him to the wedding.

Lear. My lord, he's in prison.

Esop. In prison! how so!

Lear. He would have murdered me.

Esop. A bloody fellow! But let's see him how

ever.

Send for him quickly. Ha, governor, that handsome daughter of yours, I will so mumble her!

Lear. I shall be a great man.

Re-enter ORONCES, pinioned and guarded. Esop. O ho, here's my rival! Then we have all we want.-Advance, sir, if you please. I aesire you'll do me the favour to be a witness to my marriage, lest one of these days you should take a fancy to dispute my wife with me.

Oron. Do you then send for me to insult me? 'Tis base in you.

Esop. I have no time now to throw away upon points of generosity; I have hotter work upon my hands.-Come, priest, advance.

Lear. Pray hold him fast there; he has the devil and all of mischief in's eye.

Esop. [To EUPHRONIA.] Will your ladyship please, mame, to give me your fair hand.-Heyday! [She refuses her hand. Lear. I'll give it you, my noble lord, if she won't.-[Aside.] A stubborn, self-willed, stiffnecked strumpet!

[LEARCHUS holds out her hand to sop, who takes it; ORONCES stands on Æsop's left hand, and the Priest before them.

Esop. Let my rival stand next me: of all men I'd have him be satisfied.

Oron. Barbarous inhuman monster!
Esop. Now, priest, do thy office.

[Flourish with the trumpets. i

Priest. Since the eternal laws of fate decree, That he thy husband, she thy wife, should be, May heaven take you to its care,

May Jupiter look kindly down,

Place on your heads contentment's crown;
And may his godhead never frown
Upon this happy pair.

[Flourish again of trumpets.

As the Priest pro

nounces the last line, Esor joins ORONCES and EUPHRONIA's hands.

Oron. O happy change! Blessings on blessings wait on the generous Æsop.

Esop. Happy, thrice happy may you ever be, And if you think there's something due to me, Pay it in mutual love and constancy.

Euph.[ To Esop.] You'll pardon me, most geneIf in the present transports of my soul, [rous man, Which you yourself have by your bounty caused, My willing tongue is tied from uttering The thoughts that flow from a most grateful heart. Esop. For what I've done I merit little thanks, Since what I've done, my duty bound me to. I would your father had acquitted his : But he who's such a tyrant o'er his children To sacrifice their peace to his ambition, Is fit to govern nothing but himself. And therefore, sir, at my return to court

[TO LEARCHUS.

I shall take care this city may be sway'd
By more humanity than dwells in you.
Lear. [Aside.] I shall be a great man.
Euph. [To ESOP.] Had I not reason, from
your constant goodness,

To judge your bounty, sir, is infinite,

I should not dare to sue for farther favours:
But pardon me, if imitating Heaven and you,
I easily forgive my aged father,

And beg that Æsop would forgive him too.
[Kneeling to him.
Esop. The injury he would have done to you
Was great indeed :

But 'twas a blessing he design'd for me.
If therefore you can pardon him, I may.
Your injured daughter, sir, has on her knees
[TO LEARCHUS.

Entreated for her cruel barbarous father;
And by her goodness has obtained her suit.
If in the remnant of your days you can find out
some way to recompense her, do it, that men and
gods may pardon you, as she and I have done.-
But let me see, I have one quarrel still to make up.
Where's my old friend Doris ?

Dor. She's here, sir, at your service; and as much your friend as ever: true to her principles, and firm to her mistress. But she has a much better opinion of you now than she had half an hour ago.

Esop. She has reason for my soul appeared then as deformed as my body. But I hope now one may so far mediate for t'other, that provided I don't make love, the women won't quarrel with me; for they are worse enemies even than they are friends.-Come, gentlemen, I'll humour my dress these boon companions have prepared us. a little longer, and share with you in the diversions take our places, and see how they can divert us. [ESOP leads EUPHRONIA to her place. All being seated, there follows a short concert of hautboys, trumpets, &c. After which a dance between an Old Man and a Young Woman, who shuns him still as he comes near her. At last he stops, and begins this dialogue, which they sing together,

Let's

Behold, the youthful Spring comes gaily on.
Here, here's a torch to light a virgin's fire!
To my arms, my love, my joy!

When women have what they desire,
They're neither cold nor coy.

[She takes him in her arms. The song and dance ended, Æsop takes EUPHRONIA and ORONCES by the hands, leading them forwards.

Esop. By this time, my young eager couple, 'tis probable you would be glad to be alone; perhaps you'll have a mind to go to bed even without your supper; for brides and bridegrooms eat little on their wedding-night. But since if matrimony were worn as it ought to be, it would perhaps sit easier about us than usually it does, I'll give you one word of counsel, and so I shall release you. When one is out of humour, let the other be dumb. Let your diversions be such as both may have a share in 'em. Never let familiarity exclude respect. Be clean in your clothes, but nicely so in your persons. Eat at one table, lie in one room, but sleep in two beds: I'll tell the ladies why.

[Turning to the boxes.

In the sprightly month of May,
When males and females sport and play,
And kiss and toy away the day;
An eager sparrow and his mate

Chirping on a tree were sate,

Full of love-and full of prate.

They talk'd of nothing but their fires,
Of raging heats and strong desires,
Of eternal constancy;

How true and faithful they would be,
Of this and that, and endless joys,
And a thousand more such toys:
The only thing they apprehended,
Was that their lives would be so short,
They could not finish half their sport
Before their days were ended.
But as from bough to bough they rove,
They chanced at last

In furious haste,

On a twig with birdlime spread, (Want of a more downy bed)

To act a scene of love.

Fatal it proved to both their fires.
For though at length they broke away,
And balk'd the schoolboy of his prey,
Which made him weep the livelong day,
The bridegroom in the hasty strife,
Was stuck so fast to his dear wife,
That though he used his utmost art,
He quickly found it was in vain,
To put himself to further pain,
They never more must part.
A gloomy shade o'ercast his brow;
He found himself-I know not how:
He look'd-as husbands often do.
Where'er he moved he felt her still,
She kiss'd him oft against his will:
Abroad, at home, at bed and board,
With favours she o'erwhelm'd her lord.
Oft he turn'd his head away,
And seldom had a word to say.
Which absolutely spoil'd her play,
For she was better stored.
Howe'er at length her stock was spent,
(For female fires sometimes may be
Subject to mortality ;)

So back to back they sit and sullenly repent.
But the mute scene was quickly ended,
The lady, for her share, pretended
The want of love lay at his door;
For her part she had still in store
Enough for him and twenty more,
Which could not be contented.
He answer'd her in homely words,
(For sparrows are but ill-bred birds,)
That he already had enjoy'd
So much, that truly he was cloy'd.
Which so provoked her spleen,
That after some good hearty prayers,
A jostle, and some spiteful tears,
They fell together by the ears,
And ne'er were fond again.

[Exeunt omnes.

Osop. Patentees! prithee, what are they? Play. Why, they are, sir-sir, they are-cod, I don't know what they are!-fish or flesh-masters or servants :-sometimes one-sometimes t'other, I think-just as we are in the mood.

sop. Why, I thought they had a lawful authority over you.

Play. Lawful authority, sir!-sir, we are freeborn Englishmen, we care not for law nor authority neither, when we are out of humour.

Esop. But I think they pretended at least to an authority over you; pray upon what foundation was it built?

:

Play. Upon a rotten one-if you'll believe us. Sir, I'll tell you what the projectors did they embarked twenty thousand pound upon a leaky vessel. She was built at Whitehall; I think they called her the Patent-ay, the Patent: her keel was made of a broad seal-and the king gave them a white staff for their mainmast. She was a pretty tight frigate to look upon, indeed they spared nothing to set her off; they gilded her, and painted her, and rigged, and gunned her; and so sent her a-privateering. But the first storm that blew, down went the mast! ashore went the ship!Crack! says the keel :-Mercy! cried the pilot; but the wind was so high, his prayers could not be heard so they split upon a rock-that lay hid under a petticoat.

Esop. A very sad story, this: but what became of the ship's company?

Play. Why, sir, your humble servants here, who were the officers, and the best of the sailors-(little Ben amongst the rest) seized on a small bark that lay to our hand, and away we put to sea again. To say the truth, we were better manned than rigged, and ammunition was plaguy scarce amongst us. However, a-cruising we went, and some petty small prizes we have made; but the blessing of heaven not being among us-or how the devil 'tis, I can't tell; but we are not rich.

Esop. Well, but what became of the rest of the crew?

Play. Why, sir, as for the scoundrels, they, poor dogs, stuck by the wreck. The captain gave them bread and cheese, and good words. He told them if they would patch her up, and venture t'other cruise, he'd prefer 'em all; so to work they went, and to sea they got her.

Æsop. I hope he kept his word with 'em.

Play. That he did; he made the boatswain's mate lieutenant; he made the cook doctor; he was forced to be purser, and pilot, and gunner himself; and the swabber took orders to be chaplain.

Esop. But with such unskilful officers, I'm afraid, they'll hardly keep above water long.

Play. Why, truly, sir, we care not how soon they are under: but cursed folks thrive, I think. I know nothing else that makes 'em swim. I'm sure, by the rules of navigation, they ought to have overset long since; for they carry a great deal of sail, and have very little ballast.

Esop. I'm afraid you ruin one another. I fancy if you were all in a ship together again, you'd have less work and more profit.

Play. Ah, sir-we are resolved we'll never sail under captain Patentee again.

Esop. Prithee, why so?

Play. Sir, he has used us like dogs.

Wom. And bitches too, sir.

Esop. I'm sorry to hear that; pray how was't he treated you?

Play. Sir, 'tis impossible to tell; he used us like the English at Amboyna.

Æsop. But I would know some particulars; tell me what 'twas he did to you.

Play. What he did, sir!-why, he did in the first place, sir-in the first place, sir, he did-ecod I don't know what he did.-Can you tell, wife? Wom. Yes, marry can I; and a burning shame it was too.

Play. Oh, I remember now, sir, he would not give us plums enough in our pudding.

Esop. That indeed was very hard; but did he give you as many as he promised you?

Play. Yes, and more; but what of all that? we had not as many as we had a mind to.

1 Wom. Sir, my husband tells you truth. Esop. I believe he may. But what other wrongs did he do you?

1 Wom. Why, sir, he did not treat me with respect; 'twas not one day in three he would so much as bid me good-morrow.

2 Wom. Sir, he invited me to dinner, and never drank my health.

1 Wom. Then he cocked his hat at Mrs. Pert.

2 Wom. Yes, and told Mrs. Slippery he had as good a face as she had.

Esop. Why, these were insufferable abuses!

2 Play. Then, sir, I did but come to him one day, and tell him I wanted fifty pound, and what do you think he did by me, sir-sir, he turned round upon his heel like a top

1 Play. But that was nothing to the affront he put upon me, sir. I came to him, and in very civil words, as I thought, desired him to double my pay sir, would you believe it? he had the barbarity to ask me if I intended to double my work; and because I told him no, sir--he did use megood Lord, how he did use me !

Æsop. Prithee how?

1 Play. Why, he walked off, and answered me never a word.

Æsop. How had you patience?

1 Play. Sir, I had not patience. I sent him a challenge; and what do you think his answer was? -be sent me word I was a scoundrel son of a whore, and he would only fight me by proxy! Æsop. Very fine!

1 Play. At this rate, sir, were we poor dogs used-till one frosty morning down he comes amongst us and very roundly tells us that for the future, no purchase no pay. They that would not work should not eat.-Sir, we at first asked him coolly and civilly, Why? His answer was, because the town wanted diversion, and he wanted money. Our reply to this, sir, was very short; but I think to the purpose.

Esop. What was it?

1 Play. It was, sir, that so we wallowed in plenty and ease-the town and he might be damned! This, sir, is the true history of separation-and we hope you'll stand our friend.

sop. I'll tell you what, sirs

I once a pack of beagles knew

That much resembled-I know who;
With a good huntsman at their tail,
In full command,
With whip in hand,
They'd run apace

The cheerful chace,

And of their game were seldom known to fail. But, being at length their chance to find

A hurtsman of a gentler kind,

They soon perceived the rein was slack,

The word went quickly through the pack-
They one and all cried “
Liberty!

This happy moment we are free,
We'll range the woods,

Like nymphs and gods,

nd spend our mouths in praise of mutiny."
With that old Jowler trots away,
And Bowman singles out his prey;
Thunder bellow'd through the wood,
And swore he'd burst his guts with blood.
Venus tripp'd it o'er the plain,

With boundless hopes of boundless gain.
Juno, she slipp'd down the hedge,
But left her sacred word for pledge;
That all she pick'd up by-the-by
Should to the public treasury.
And well they might rely upon her:
For Juno was a bitch of honour.

In short they all had hopes to see
A heavenly crop of mutiny,
And so to reaping fell:

But in a little time they found,
It was the devil had till'd the ground,
And brought the seed from hell.
The pack divided, nothing throve:
Discord seized the throne of love.
Want and misery all endure.
All take pains, and all grow poor.
When they had toil'd the livelong day,
And came at night to view their prey,
Oft, alas! so ill they sped,

That half went supperless to bed.
At length, they all in council sate,
Where at a very fair debate,
It was agreed at last,

That slavery with ease and plenty,
When hounds were something turn'd of twenty
Was much a better fate,

Than 'twas to work and fast.

1 Play. Well, sir—and what did they do then? Esop. Why, they all went home to their kennel again. If you think they did wisely, you'll do well to follow their example. [Exit.

1 Play. Well, beagles, what think you of the little gentleman's advice?

2 Wom. I think he's a little ugly philosopher, and talks like a fool.

1 Play. Ah, why, there's it now! If he had been a tall, handsome blockhead, he had talked like a wise man.

2 Wom. Why, do you think, Mr. Jowler, that we'll ever join again?

1 Play. I do think, sweet Mrs. Juno, that if we do not join again, you must be a little freer of your carcass than you are, or you must bring down your pride to a serge petticoat.

1 Wom. And do you think, sir, after the affronts I have received, the patent and I can ever be friends?

1 Play. I do think, madam, that if my interest had not been more affronted than your face, the patent and you had never been foes.

1 Wom. And so, sir, then you have serious thoughts of a reconciliation?

1 Play. Madam, I do believe I may.

1 Wom. Why then, sir, give me leave to tell you, that make it my interest, and I'll have serious thoughts on't too.

2 Wom. Nay, if you are thereabouts, I desire to come into the treaty.

3 Play. And I.

4 Play. And I.

2 Play. And I. No separate peace; none of your Turin play, I beseech you.

1 Play. Why then, since you are all so christianly disposed, I think we had best adjourn immediately to our council-chamber; choose some potent prince for mediator and guarantee; fix upon the place of treaty, despatch our plenipos, and whip up the peace like an oyster. For under the rose, my confederates, here is such a damned discount upon our bills, I'm afraid, if we stand it out another campaign, we must live upon slender subsistence.

Exeunt.

Gent. Sir, you may reverence as low as you please; but I shall spare none of you. Sir, I am entrusted by my country with above ten thousand of their grievances, and in order to redress 'em, my design is to hang ten thousand courtiers.

Esop. Why, 'tis making short work, I must confess. But are you sure, sir, that would do't? Gent. Sure!ay, sure. Esop. How do you know?

Gent. Why, the whole country says so, and I at the head of 'em. Now let me see who dares say the contrary.

Esop. Not I, truly. But, sir, if you won't take it ill, I'll ask you a question or two.

Gent. Sir, I shall take ill what I please; and if you, or e'er a courtier of you all, pretend the contrary, I say it's a breach of privilege. Now put your question, if you think fit.

Esop. Why then, sir, with all due regard to your character, and your privilege too, I would be glad to know what you chiefly complain of?

Gent. Why, sir, I do chiefly complain, that we have a great many ships, and very little trade; a great many tenants, and very little money; a great many soldiers, and very little fighting; a great many gazettes, and little good news; a great many statesmen, and very little wisdom; a great many parsons, and not an ounce of religion.

Esop. Why truly, sir, I do confess these are grievances very well worth your redressing. I perceive you are truly sensible of our diseases, but I'm afraid you are a little out in the cure.

Gent. Sir, I perceive you take me for a country physician but you shall find, sir, that a country doctor is able to deal with a court quack; and to show you that I do understand something of the state of the body politic, I will tell you, sir, that I have heard a wise man say, the court is the stomach of the nation, in which, if the business be not thoroughly digested, the whole carcass will be in disorder. Now, sir, I do find by the latitude of the members, and the vapours that fly into the head, that this same stomach is full of indigestions, which must be removed. And therefore, sir, I am come post to town with my head full of crocus metallorum, and design to give the court a vomit.

Esop. Sir, the physic you mention, though necessary sometimes, is of too violent a nature to

be used without a great deal of caution. I'm afraid you are a little too rash in your prescriptions. Is it not possible you may be mistaken in the cause of the distemper?

Gent. Sir, I do not think it possible I should be mistaken in anything.

Esop. Have you been long a senator?
Gent. No, sir.

Esop. Have you been much about town?
Gent. No, sir.

Esop. Have you conversed much with men of business?

Gent. No, sir.

Esop. Have you made any serious inquiry into the present disorders of the nation? Gent. No, sir.

Esop. Have you ever heard what the men now employed in business have to say for themselves? Gent. No, sir.

Esop. How then do you know they deserve to be punished for the present disorders in your affairs? Gent. I'll tell you how I know.

Esop. I would be glad to hear.

Gent. Why, I know by this-I know it, I say, by this-that I'm sure on't.-And to give you demonstration that I'm sure on't, there's not one man in a good post in the nation-but I'd give my vote to hang him. Now I hope you are convinced. Esop. As for example: the first minister of state, why would you hang him?

Gent. Because he gives bad counsel.
Esop. How do you know?

Gent. Why they say so.

Esop. And who would you put in his room?
Gent. One that would give better.
Esop. Who's that?

Gent. Myself.

Esop. The secretary of state, why would you hang him?

Gent. Because he has not good intelligence.
Esop. How do you know?

Gent. I have heard so.

Esop. And who would you put in his place?
Gent. My father.

Esop. The treasurer, why would you hang him?
Gent. Because he does not understand his busi-

Gent. My brother.

Esop. And the general, why would you hang him? Gent. Because he took ne'er a town last campaign.

Esop. And how do you know 'twas in his power? Gent. Why I don't care a souse whether it was in his power or not. But I have a son at home, a brave chopping lad; he's been captain in the militia these twelve months, and I'd be glad to see him in his place. What do ye stare for, sir? ha! Egad I tell you he'd scour all to the devil. He's none of your fencers, none of your sa-sa men. Numphs is downright, that's his play.

You may