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at last.

you, you are very much abused in that matter- man, and I'll make it appear-Odd, you're devilhe's no more mad than you are.

ish handsome. Faith and troth, you're very handSir Sam. How, madam! would I could prove some; and I'ın very young, and very lusty. Ods it!

bud, hussy, you know how to choose! and so do I. Ang. I can tell you how that may be done, Odd, I think we are very well met. Give me your but it is a thing that would make me appear to hand; odd, let me kiss it ; 'tis as warm and as be too much concerned in your affairs.

soft-as what?-odd, as t'other hand !-give me Sir Sam. Odsbud, I believe she likes me- t'other hand; and I'll mumble them, and kiss (Aside.Ah, madam, all my affairs are scarce them, till they melt in my mouth. worthy to be laid at your feet; and I wish, ma- Ang. Hoid, sir Sampsun-you're profuse of dam, they were in a better posture, that I might your vigour before your time. You'll spend your Make a more becoming offer to a lady of your in- estate before you come to it. comparable beauty and merit. If I had Peru in Sir Sam. No, no; only give you a rent-roll of one hand, and Mexico in t'other, and the eastern my possessions—ah, baggage! I warrant you for empire under my feet, it would make me only a a little Sampson. Odd, Sampson is a very good more glorious victim, to be offered at the shrine name for an able fellow. Your Sampsons were of your beauty.

strong dogs from the beginning. Ang. Bless me, sir Sampson, what's the mat- Ang. Have a care, and don't overact your ter?

part. If you remember, Sampson, the strongest Sir Sam. Odd, madam, I love you—and if you of the name, pulled an old house over his head would take my advice in a husband

Ang. Hold, hold, sir Sampson! I asked your Sir Sam. Say you so, hussy? Come, let's go, advice for a husband, and you are giving me your then; odd, I long to be pulling, too. Come away. consent. I was, indeed, thinking to propose -Odso, here's somebody coming. something like it in jest, to satisfy you about Va

[Exeunt, lentine : for if a match were seemingly carried on between you and me, it would oblige him to

Enter Tattle and JEREMY. throw off his disguise of madness, in apprehen- Tatt. Is not that she, gone out just now? sion of losing me; for, you know, he has long Jer. Aye, sir, she's just going to the place of pretended a passion for me.

appointment. Ah, sir, if you are not very faithSir Sam. Gadzooks, a most ingenious contri- ful and close in this business, you'll certainly be rance-if we were to go through with it! but the death of a person, that has a most extraordiwhy must the match only be seemingly carried nary passion for your bonour's service. on Odd, let it be a real contract.

Tatt. Aye, who's that? Ang. O fie, sir Sampson, what would the world Jer. Even my unworthy self, sir. Sir, I have say?

had an appetite to be fed with your commands a Sir Sam. Say? They would say you were a great while—and now, sir, my former master hawise woman, and I a happy man. Odd, madam, ving much troubled the fountain of his underI'll love you as long as I live; and leave you a standing, it is a very plausible occasion for me to good jointure when I die.

quench my thirst at the spring of your bounty. Ang. Aye, but that is not in your power, sir I thought I could not recommend myself better Sampson; for when Valentine confesses himself to you, sir, than by the delivery of a great beauin his senses, he must make over bis inheritance ty and fortune into your arms, whom I have to his younger brother.

heard Sir Sam. Odd, you're cunning, a wary baggage ! Tatt. I'll make thy fortune ; say no more.-Faith and troth, I like you the better

. But, I Thou art a pretty fellow, and canst carry a meswarrant you, I have a proviso in the obligation sage to a lady, in a pretty soft kind of phrase, in favour of myself. Body o' me, I have a trick and with a good persuading accent. to turn the settlement upon the issue-male of our Jer, Sir, I have the seeds of rhetoric and oratwo bodies begotten. Odsbud, let us find chil-tory in my head—I have been at Cambridge. dren, and I'll find an estate!

Tatt. Aye; 'tis well enough for a servant to Ang. Will you? well, do you find the estate, be bred at an university; but the education is a and leave the other to me.

little too pedantic for a gentleman. I hope you Sir Sam. O rogue! but I'll trust you. And are secret in your nature, private, close, ha? will you consent? Is it a match, then?

Jer. O sir, for that, sir, 'tis my chief talent; Ang. Let me consult my lawyer concerning I'm as secret as the head of Nilus. this obligation; and, if I find what you propose Tatt. Aye? who's he, though? a privy counpracticable, I'll give you my answer.

sellor? Sir Sam. With all my heart. Come in with Jer. O ignorance !--[Aside.] - A cunning me, and I'll lend you the bond. You shall con- Egyptian, sir, that with his arms could over-run sult your lawyer, and I'll consult a parson. Od the country, yet nobody could ever find out lis 200ks, I'm a young man; Odzooks, I'm a young head-quarters.

you sigh for.

my mind.

Tatt. Close dog! a good whoremaster, I war- no; to marry is to be a child again, and play with rant him! The time draws nigh, Jeremy. Angelica the same rattle always : 0 fie, marrying is a paw will be veiled like a nun; and I must be hooded thing! like a friar; ha, Jeremy?

Miss Prue. Well, but don't you love me as Jer. Aye, sir, hooded like a hawk, to seize at well as you did last night, then? first sight upon the quarry. It is the whim of my Tatt. No, no, child; you would not have me? master's madness to be so dressed; and she is so Miss Prue. No? Yes, but I would though. in love with him, she'll comply with any thing to Tatt. Pshaw, but I tell you, you would not. please him. Poor lady! I'm sure she'll have rea- You forget you are a woman, and don't know son to pray for me, when she finds what a happy your own mind. change she has made, between a madman and so Miss Prue. But here's my father, and he knows accomplished a gentleman. Tatt. Aye, faith, so she will, Jeremy: you're a

Enter FORESIGNT. good friend to her, poor creature ! I swear I do it hardly so much in consideration of myself, as Fore. O, Mr Tattle, your servant; you are a compassion to her.

close man; but, methinks, your love to my Jer. 'Tis an act of charity, sir, to save a fine daughter was a secret I might Irave been trusted woman with thirty thousand pounds from throw- with !-or had you a mind to try if I could dising herself away,

cover it by my art ?-Mum, ha! I think there is Tatt. So 'tis, faith! I might have saved several something in your physiognomy, that has a reothers in my time; but, egad, I could never find semblance of her; and the girl is like me. in my heart to marry any body before.

Tatt. And so you would infer, that you and I Jer. Well, sir, I'll go and tell her my master's are alike?-What does the old prig mean? I'll coming; and meet you in half a quarter of an banter him, and laugh at him, and leave him. hour, with your disguise, at your own lodgings. [-Aside.] I fancy you have a wrong notion of You must talk a little madly;—she won't distin- faces. guish the tone of your voice.

Fore. How? what? a wrong notion ! how so? Tatt. No, no, let me alone for a counterfeit. Tutt. In the way of art, I have some taking I'll be ready for you.

[Exit JEREMY. features, not obvious to vulgar eyes, that are in

dication of a sudden turn of good fortune, in the Enter Miss PRUE.

lottery of wives; and promise a great beauty and Aliss Prue. O, Mr Tattle, are you here? I'm great fortune reserved alone for me, by a private glad I have found you. I have been looking up intrigue of destiliy, kept secret from the piercing and down for you like any thing, till I'm as tired eye of perspicuity, from all astrologers, and the as any thing in the world.

stars themselves. Tatt. O pox! how shall I get rid of this fool- Fore. How? I will make it appear, that what ish girl?

[Aside. you say is impossible. Miss Prue. O, I have pure news, I can tell Tatt. Sir, 1 beg your pardon, I am in haste you; pure news !-I must not marry the seaman Fore. For what? now-My father says so. Why, won't you be my Tatt. To be married, sir-married. husband? You say you love me! and you won't Fore. Ay, but pray, take me along with you, be my husband. And I know you may be

my

sir. husband now, if you please.

Tatt. No, sir; it is to be done privately—I Tatt. O fie, miss! who told you so, child? never make confidents.

Miss Prue. Why, my father-I told him that Fore. Well; but my consent, I mean--You you loved me.

won't marry my daughter without my consent? Tatt. O fie, miss ! why did you do so! and Tatt. Who, I, sir? I am an absolute stranger who told you so, child?

to you and your daughter, sir. Miss Prue. Who? Why, you did; did not Fore. lley-day! What time of the moon is you?

this? Tatt. O pox! that was yesterday, miss; that Tatt. Very true, sir; and desire to continue was a great while ago, child. I have been asleep so. I have no more love for your daughter, than since; slept a whole night, and did not so much I have likeness of you: and I have a secret in as dream of the matter.

my heart, which you would be glad to know, and Miss Prue. Pshaw! O, but I dreamt that it shan't know: and yet you shall know it too, and was so though.

be sorry for it afterwards. I'd have you know, Tatt. Ay, but your father will tell you that sir, that I am as knowing as the stars, and as sedreams come by contraries, child. O fie! what, cret as the night. And I'm going to be married we must not love one another now. Pshaw, that just now, yet, did not know of it half an hour would be a foolish thing, indeed! Fie, fie! you're ago; and the lady stays for me, and does not a woman now, and must think of a new man know of it yet. There's a mystery for you! I every morning, and forget him every night. No, know you love to untie difficulties. Or, if you

can't solve this; stay here a quarter of an hour, Leghorn, and back again, before you

shall

guess and I'll come and explain it to you. [Erit. at the matter, and do nothing else. Mess, you

Miss Prue. O, father! why will you let him may take in all the points of the compass, and go? Won't you make him to be my

husband ? not hit the right. Fore. Mercy on us ! what do thesc lunacies por- Mrs Fore. Your experiment will take up a littend? Alas! be's mad, child, stark wild.

tle too much time. Miss Prue. What, and must not I have e'er a Ben. Why, tben, I'll tell you : there's a new husband, then? What, must I go to bed to nurse wedding upon the stocks, and they two are going again, and be a child as long as she's an old wo- to be married to rights. man? Indeed, but I won't. For, now my mind Scand. Who? is set upon a man, I will have a man some way Ben. Why, father, and—the young woman. I or other.

can't hit her name. Fore. O fearful! I think the girl's influenced, Scand. Angelica ? too. Hussy, you shall have a rod.

Ben. Ay, the same. Miss Prue. A fiddle of a rod! I'll have a hus- Mrs Fore. Sir Sampson and Angelica ? Imposband; and, if you won't get me one, I'll get one sible ! for myself.' l’li marry our Robin the butler; he Ben. That may be—but I'm sure it is as I tell says he loves me: and he's a handsome man, and you. shall be my husband : I warrant he'll be my hus- Scand. 'Sdeath, it is a jest. I can't believe it. band, and thank me, too; for he told me so. Ben. Look you, friend; it is nothing to me,

whether Enter Scandal, Mrs Foresight, and NURSE. d'ye see; they are married, or just going to be

believe it or no. What I say is true,

you Fore. Did he so? I'll dispatch him for it pre- married, I know not which. sently. Rogue! Oh, nurse, come hither.

Fore. Well, but they are not mad, that is, not Nurse. What is your worship's pleasure ? lunatic?

Fore. Here, take your young mistress, and lock Ben. I don't know what you may call madher up presently, till farther orders from me. ness—but she's mad for a husband, and he's hornNot a word, hussy-Do what I bid you. No mad, I think, or they'd never make a match toreply: away. And bid Robin make ready to gether. Here they come. give an account of his plate and linen, dy'e hear? Begone, when I bid you.

Enter Sır SAMPSON, ANGELICA, and BUCKRAM. (Ereunt Nurse and Miss Prue. Sir Sam. Where is this old soothsayer? this Mrs Fore. What's the matter, husband ? uncle of mine elect ?- Aha! old Foresight! un

Fore. Tis not convenient to tell you now cle Foresight! wish me joy, uncle Foresight, Mr Scandal, Heaven keep us all in our senses ! double joy, both as uncle and astrologer : here's I fear there is a contagious frenzy abroad. How a conjunction that was not foretold in all your does Valentine?

Ephemeres ! The brightest star in the blue firScand. O, I hope he will do well again. Imament–is shot from above, in a jelly of love, have a message from him to your niece Ange- and so forth; and I'm lord of the ascendant. hica.

Odd, you're an old fellow, Foresight-uncle, I Fore. I think she has not returned since she mean; a very old fellow, uncle Foresight, and went abroad with sir Sampson. Nurse, why are yet you shall live to dance at my wedding; faith you not gone?

and troth you shall. Odd, we'll have the music

of the spheres for thee, old Lilly, that we will; Enter Ben.

and thou shalt lead up a dance in via lactea. Here's Mr Benjamin; he can tell us if his father Fore, I'ın thunder-struck! You are not marbe come home.

ried to my niece? Ben. Who? Father? Ay, he's come home with Sir Sam. Not absolutely married, uncle; but a vengeance.

very near it; within a kiss of the matter, as you Mrs Fore. Why, what's the matter?

[Kisses Angelica. Ben. Matter! Why, he's mad.

Ang. 'Tis very true, indeed, uncle; I hope Fore. Mercy on us! I was afraid of this. you'll be my father, and give me.

Ben. And there's a handsome young woman; Sir Sam. That he shall, or I'll burn his globes. she, as they say, brother Val went mad for, she's Body o'me, he shall be thy father : I'll make him mad, too, I think.

thy father, and thou shalt make me a father, and Fore. O, my poor niece! my poor niece! is I'll make thee a mother; and we'll beget sons she gone, too? Well, I shall run inad next. and daughters enough to put the weekly bills out

Nirs Fore. Well, but how mad ? how d'ye of countenance. mean?

Scand. Death and hell! Where's Valentine? Ben. Nay, I'll give you leave to guess—I'll un

[Erit. dertake to make a voyage to Antigua-No, I Mrs Fore. This is so surprising-mayn't say so, ncither-but I'll sail as far as Sir Sam. Ilow! What does my aunt say ? sur

see.

rect me.

prising, aunt? not at all, for a young couple to Ang. But I believe Mr Tattle meant the famake a match in winter! Not at all - It's a plot vour to me; I thank him. to undermine cold weather, and destroy that Tatt. I did, as I hope to be saved, madam; usurper of a bed called a warming-pan.

my intentions were good. But this is the most Mrs Fore. I'm glad to hear you have so much cruel thing, to marry, one does not know how, fire in you, sir Sampson.

nor why, nor wherefore. The devil take me, if Ben. Mess, I fear his fire's little better than ever I was so much concerned at any thing in tinder; mayhap it will only serve to light a match my life! for somebody else. The young woman's a hand- Ang. 'Tis very unhappy, if you

don't care for some young woman, I can't deny it: but, father, one another. if I might be your pilot in this case, you should Tatt. The least in the world- -that is, for not marry her. It is just the same thing as if so my part, I speak for myself. Gad, I never had you should sail as far as the Streights without the least thoright of serious kindness—I never provision.

liked any body less in my life. Poor woman! Sir Sam. Who gave you authority to speak, Gad, I'm sorry for her, too; for I have no reasirrah? To your element, fish; be mute, tish, son to hate her neither; but, I believe I shall and to sea. Rule your helm, sirrah ; don't di- lead her a damned sort of a life.

Mrs Fore. lle's better than no husband at Ben. Well, well, take you care of your own all---though he's a coxcomb. [To FRAIL. helm; or you mayn't keep your new vessel Mrs Frail. (To her.] Ay, ay, it's well it's no steady.

worse. Nay, for my part, I always despised Mr Sir Sam. Why, you impudent tarpawlin! sir- Tattle of all things; nothing but his being my rah, do you bring your forecastle jesis upon your husband could have made me like him less. father? But I shall be even with you; I won't Tatt. Look you there, I thought as much ! give you a groat. Mr Buckram, is the convey- Pox on't, I wish we could keep it secret! why, ance so worded, that nothing can possibly des- I don't believe any of this company would speak cend to this scoundrel? I would not so much as of it. bave him have the prospect of an estate, though Ben. If you suspect me, friend, I'll go out of there were no way to come to it, but by the north the room. east passage,

Mrs Frail. But, my dear, that's impossible ; Buck. Sir, it is drawn according to your direc- the parson and that rogue Jeremy will publish tions; there is not the least cranny of the law un- it. stopt.

Tatt. Ay, my dear, so they will, as you say. Ben. Lawyer, I believe there's many a cranny Ang. O, you'll agree very well in a little tiine; and leak unstopt in your conscience! If so be custom will make it easy for

you. that one had a puip to your bosom, I believe Tatt. Easy! Pox on't, I don't believe I shall we should discover a foul hold. They say, a sleep to-night. witch will sail in a sieve—but, I believe the de- Sir Sam. Sleep, quotha ! No: why, you would vil would not venture aboard your conscience. not sleep on your wedding-night? I'm an older And that's for you.

fellow than you, and don't mean to sleep. Sir Sam. Hold your tongue, sirrah. How now? Ben. Why, there's another match, now, as thof who's here?

a couple of privateers were looking for a prize,

and should fall foul of one another. I'm sorry Enter Tattle, and Mrs Frail.

for the young man with all my heart. Look you,

friend, if I may advise you, when she's going Mrs Frail. O, sister, the most unlucky acci- for that you must expect, I have experience of dent!

her—when she's going, let her go. For no maMrs Fore. What's the matter?

trimony is tough enough to hold her; and if she Tatt, 0, the two most unfortunate poor crea- can't drag her anchor along with her, she'll break tures in the world we are !

her cable, I can tell you that. Who's here? the Fore. Bles us! how so?

madman? Mrs Frail. Ah! Mr Tattle and I, poor Mr Tatile and I are-I can't speak it out.

Enter VALENTINE, SCANDAL, and JEREMY. Tatt. Nor I-But poor Mrs Frail and I Val. No; here's the fool; and, if occasion be,

I'll give it under my hand. Mrs Frail. Married.

Sir Sam, How now? Fore. Married ! How?

Val. Sir, I'm come to acknowledge my errors, Tatt. Suddenly before we knew where we and ask your pardon. were--that villain Jeremy, by the help of dis- Sir Sam. What! have you found your senses guises, tricked us into one another.

at last, then? In good time, sir. Fore. Why, you told me just now, you went Val. You were abused, sir; I never was dishence in haste to be married!

tracted.

are

prosper?

ness.

Fore. How? not mad! Mr Scandal ?

not make me worthy of so generous and faithful Scand. No, really, sir; I'm his witness, it was a passion. Here's my hand; ny heart was alall counterfeit.

ways yours, and struggled very hard to make this Val. I thought I had reasons—but it was a utmost trial of your virtue. [To VALENTINE. poor contrivance: the effect has shewn it such. Val. Between pleasure and amazement, I am

Sir Sam, Contrivance ! what, to cheat me? to lost—but, on my knees, I take the blessing. cheat your father! Sirrah, could you hope to Sir Sam. Oons, what is the menning of this ?

Ben. Mass, here's the wind changed again Val. Indeed, I thought, sir, when the father Father, you and I may make a voyage together, endearoured to undo the son, it was a reasonable now! return of nature.

Ang. Well, sir Samson, since I have played Sir Sam. Very good, sir. Mr Buckram, are you a trick, I'll advise you how you may avoid you ready? Come, sir, will you sign aud seal ? such another. Learn to be a good father, or

Val. If you please, sir; but, first, I would ask you'll never get a second wife. I always loved this lady one question.

your son, and hated your unforgiving nature. I Sir Sam. Sir, you must ask me leave first- was resolved to try him to the utmost; I have That lady! No, sir; you shall ask that lady no tried you, too, and know you both. You have questions, till you bave asked her blessing, sir; not more faults than he has virtues; and it is that lady is to be my wife.

hardly more pleasure to me, that I can make Val. Í have heard as much, sir; but I would him and myself happy, than that I can punish have it froin her own mouth.

you. Sir Sam. That's as much as to say I lie, sir, Sir Sam. Oons, you are a crocodile. and you don't believe what I say?

Fore. Really, sir Sampson, this is a sudden Val. Pardon me, sir. But I reflect that I very eclipse. lately counterfeited madness: I don't know but Sir Sam. You're an illiterate old fool; and I'm the frolic may go round.

another. Sir Sam. Come, chuck, satisfy him, answer Tatt. If the gentleman is in disorder for want him.- Come, Mr Buckram, the pen and ink. of a wife, I can spare him mine. Oh, are you

Buck. Here it is, sir, with the deed; all is there, sir? I am indebted to you for my happiready. (VAL. goes to Ang.

[TO JEREMY. Ang. 'Tis true, you have a great while pre- Jer. Sir, I ask you ten thousand pardons : it tended love to me; nay, what if you were sin- was an arrant mistake. You see, sir, my master cere? Still you must pardon me, if I think my was never mad, nor any thing like it. Then, own inclinations have a better right to dispose of how can it be otherwise? my person, than yours.

Val. Tattle, I thank you; you would have inSir Sam. Are you answered now, sir?

terposed between me and Heaven; but ProviVal. Yes, sir.

dence laid purgatory in your way. You have Sir Sam. Where's your plot, sir? and your con

but justice. trivance now, sir? Will you sign, sir? Come,

Scund. I hear the fiddles that sir Sampson prowill you sign and seal

vided for his own wedding; methinks it is pity Val. With all my heart, sir.

they should not be employed when the match is Scand. 'Sdeath, you are not mad, indeed ? to so much mended. Valentine, though it be mornruin yourself?

ing, we may have a dance. Val. I have been disappointed of my only Val. Any thing, my friend; every thing that hope; and he that loses hope may part with any

and transport. thing. I never valued fortune, but as it was sub- Scand. Call them, Jeremy. servient to my pleasure; and my only pleasure Ang. I have done dissembling now, Valentine; was to please this lady: I have made many vain and if that coldness, which I have always worn attempts; and find, at last, that nothing but my before you, should turn to an extreme fondness, ruio can effect it; which, for that reason, I will you must not suspect it. sign to. Give me the paper,

Val. I'll prevent that suspicion—for I intend Ang. Generous Valentine!

(Aside. to doat to that immoderate degree, that your Buck. Here is the deed, sir.

tondness shall never distinguish itself enough to Val. But where is the bond, by which I am be taken notice of. If ever you seem to love ebliged to sign this !

too much, it must be only when I cannot love Buck. Sir Sampson, you have it.

enough. Ang. No, I have it; and I'll use it, as I Ang. Have a care of promises: you know you would every thing that is an enemy to Valentine. are apt to run more in debt than you are able

[Tears the paper. Sir Sam. How now?

Val. Therefore, I yield my body as your priVal. Ha !

soner, and make your best on't. Ang. Had I the world to give you, it could Scand. [TO ANGELICA.] Well, madam, you Vol. II.

2 R

looks like joy

to pay:

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