have no more love for your daughter, than I have likeness of you and I have a secret in my heart, which you would be glad to know, and shan't know: and yet you shall know it too, and be sorry for it after. wards. I'd have you know, sir, that I am as know. ing as the stars, and as secret as the night. And I'm going to be married just now, yet did not know of it half an hour ago; and the lady stays for me, and does not know of it yet. There's a mystery for you. [ know you love to untie difficulties. Or if you can't solve this; stay here a quarter of an hour, and I'll come and explain it to you.

[Exit. Miss P. O father, why will you let him go? Won't you make him to be my husband?

For. Mercy on us, what do these lunacies portend? Alas! he's mad, child, stark wild.

Miss P. What, and must not I have e'er a husband then? What, must I go to bed to nurse again, and be a child as long as she's an old woman? Indeed, but I won't. For, now my mind is set upon a man, I will have a man some way or other. "Oh, me"thinks I'm sick when I think of a man; and if I "can't have one, I would go to sleep all my life; for "when I'm awake, it makes me wish and long, and "I don't know, for what-and I'd rather be always "asleep, than sick with thinking."

For. O fearful! I think the girl's influenced too. -Hussy, you shall have a rod.

Miss P. A fiddle of a rod! I'll have a husband; and if you won't get me one, I'll get one for myself.

I'll marry our Robin the butler; he says he loves me and he's a handsome man, and shall be my husband: I warrant he'll be my husband, and thank me too; for he told me so.

Enter SCANDAL, Mrs. FORESIGHT, and NURSE. For. Did he so? I'll dispatch him for it presently! Rogue! Oh, Nurse, come hither.

Nurse. What is your worship's pleasure?

For. Here take your young mistress, and lock her up presently, till farther orders from me. Not a word, hussy-Do what I bid you. No reply: away. And bid Robin make ready to give an account of his plate and linen, dy'e hear? Be gone, when I bid you. [Exeunt Nurse and Miss Prue.

Mrs. For. What's the matter, husband?

For. 'Tis not convenient to tell you now-Mr. Scandal, Heaven keep us all in our senses! I fear there is a contagious frenzy abroad. How does Valentine ?

Scand. O, I hope he will do well again. I have a message from him to your niece Angelica.

For. I think she has not returned since she went abroad with Sir Sampson. Nurse, why are you not gone? [Enter Ben.] Here's Mr. Benjamin; he can tell us if his father be come home.

Ben. Who Father? Ay, he's come home with a vengeance.

Mrs. For. Why, what's the matter?

Ben. Matter! Why, he's mad.

M

For. Mercy on us! I was afraid of this.

Ben. And there's a handsome young woman, she, as they say brother Val. went mad for, she's mad too, I think.

For. O my poor niece! my poor niece! is she gone too? Well, I shall run mad next.

Mrs. For. Well, but how mad? how d'ye mean?

Ben. Nay, I'll give you leave to guess-I'll undertake to make a voyage to Antigua.—No, I mayn't say so, neither-but I'll sail as far as Leghorn, and back again, befc e you shall guess at the matter, and do nothing else. Mess, you may take in all the points of the compass, and not hit the right.

Mrs. For. Your experiment will take up a little too much time.

Ben. Why then I'll tell you: there's a new wedding upon the stocks, and they two are going to be married to rights.

Scand. Who?

Ben. Why father, and-the

hit her name.

Scand. Angelica ?

Ben. Ay, the same.

young woman. I can't

Mrs. For. Sir Sampson and Angelica? Impossible! Ben. That may be—but I'm sure it is as I tell you. Scand. 'Sdeath, it is a jest. I can't believe it. Ben. Look you, friend; it is nothing to me, whether you believe it or no. What I say is true, d'ye see; they are married, or just going to be married, I know not which.

For. Well, but they are not mad, that is, not lu

natic?

Ben. I don't know what you may call madnessbut she's mad for a husband, and he's horn-mad, I think, or they'd never make a match together.Here they come.

Enter Sir SAMPSON, ANGELICA, and BUCKRAM.

Sir S. Where is this old soothsayer? this uncle of mine elect?—Aha! old Foresight! uncle Foresight! wish me joy, uncle Foresight, double joy, both as uncle and astrologer: here's a conjunction that was not foretold in all your Ephemeres! The brightest star in the blue firmament-is shot from above, in a jelly of love, and so forth; and I'm iord of the ascendant. Odd, you're an old fellow, Foresight, uncle I mean; a very old fellow, uncle Foresight; and yet you shall live to dance at my wedding; faith and troth you shall. Odd, we'll have the music of the spheres for thee, old Lilly, that we will; and thou shalt lead up a dance in via lactea.

For. I'm thunder-struck! You are not married to my niece?

Sir S. Not absolutely married, uncle; but very near it; within a kiss of the matter, as you see. [Kisses Angelica. Ang. 'Tis very true indeed, uncle; I hope you'll be my father, and give me.

Sir S. That he shall, or I'll burn his globes.— Body o'me, he shall be thy father: I'll make him

thy father, and thou shalt make me a father, and I'll make thee a mother; and we'll beget sons and daughters enough to put the weekly bills out of

countenance.

Scand. Death and hell! Where's Valentine? [Exit. Mrs. For. This is so surprising

Sir S. How! What does my aunt say? surprising, aunt? not at all, for a young couple to make a match in winter! Not at all-It's a plot to undermine cold weather, and destroy that usurper of a bed called a warming-pan.

Mrs. For. I'm glad to hear you have so much fire in you, Sir Sampson.

Ben. Mess, I fear his fire's little better than tinder; mayhap it will only serve to light a match for somebody else. The young woman's a handsome young woman, I can't deny it: but father, if I might be your pilot in this case, you should not marry her. It is just the same thing as if so be you should sail as far as the Streights without provision.

Sir S. Who gave you authority to speak, sirrah ? To your element, fish; be mute, fish, and to sea. Rule your helm, sirrah; don't direct me.

Ben. Well, well, take you care of your own helm; or you mayn't keep your new vessel steady.

Sir S. Why, you impudent tarpawlin! sirrah, do you bring your forecastle jests upon your father? But I shall be ever with you; I won't give you a groat. Mr. Buckram, is the conveyance so worded, that nothing can possibly descend to this scoundrel ?