SCENE I.

Enter CHARLES.

Char. WELL, here's the house which holds the lovely prize, quiet and serene: here no noisy footmen throng to tell the world that beauty dwells within; no ceremonious visit makes the lover wait, no rival to give my heart a pang. Who would not scale the window at midnight without fear of the jealous father's pistol, rather than fill up the train of a coquette, where every minute he is jostled out of place! [Knocks softly.] Mrs Patch, Mrs Patch!

Enter PATCH.

Patch. Oh, are you come, sir? All's safe. Cha. So! in, in, then.

Enter MARPLOT.

Mar. There he goes! Who the devil lives here? except I can find out that, I am as far from knowing his business as ever. Gad I'll watch; it may be a bawdy-house, and he may have his throat cut. If there should be any mischief I can make oath he went in. Well, Charles, in spite of your endeavours to keep me out of the secret, I may save your life for aught I know. At that corner I'll plant myself; there I shall see whoever goes in or comes out. Gad I love discoveries. [Exit MAR.

SCENE II.

Draws, and discovers CHARLES, ISABINDA,

and PATCH.

uncle's estate; that surely will support us till one of our fathers relent.

Isa. There's no trusting to that, my friend. I doubt your father will carry his humour to the grave, and mine till he sees me settled in Spain.

Cha. And can you, then, cruelly resolve to stay till that cursed Don arrives, and suffer that youth, beauty, fire, and wit, to be sacrificed to the arms of a dull Spaniard, to be immured, and forbid the sight of any thing that's human?

Isa. No; when it comes to that extremity, and no stratagem can relieve us, thou shalt list for a soldier, and I'll carry thy knapsack after thee.

Cha. Bravely resolved! the world cannot be more savage than our parents, and fortune generally assists the bold; therefore consent now: why should we put it to a future hazard? who knows when we shall have another opportunity?

Isa. Oh, you have your ladder of ropes, I suppose, and the closet window stands just where it did; and if you han't forgot to write in characters, Patch will find a way for our assignations. Thus much of the Spanish contrivance my father's severity has taught me, I thank him: though I hate the nation, I admire their management in these affairs.

Enter PATCH.

Patch. Oh, madam! I see my master coming up the street.

Cha. Oh, the devil! would I had my ladder now! I thought you had not expected him till night. Why, why, why, why, what shall I do,

madam?

dad.

Patch. I warrant you.

Isa. Well, sir, if I may judge your love by your courage, I ought to believe you sincere; for you venture into the lion's den when you come

to see me.

Cha. If you'd consent whilst the furious beast is abroad, I'd free you from the reach of his paws.

Isa. That would be but to avoid one danger by running into another; like poor wretches, who fly the burning ship, and meet their fate in the water. Come, come, Charles; I fear, if I consult my reason, confinement and plenty is better than liberty and starving. I know you would make the frolic pleasing for a little time, by saying and doing a world of tender things; but, when our small substance is exhausted, and a thousand requisites for life are wanting, Love, who rarely dwells with Poverty, would also fail us.

Cha. Faith, I fancy not; methinks my heart has laid up a stock will last for life; to back which I have taken a thousand pounds upon my

Cha. 'Adsheart! can you shut me into no cupboard, nor ram me into a chest, ha?

Patch. Impossible, sir; he searches every hole in the house.

Isa. Undone for ever! if he sees you, I shall never see you more.

Patch. I have thought on it: run you to your chamber, madam; and, sir, come you along with me; I'm certain you may easily get down from the balcony.

Cha. My life! adieu-Lead on, guide. [Exeunt PATCH and CHA. Isa. Heaven preserve him! [Exit Isa.

SCENE III.-Changes to the street.

Enter SIR JEALOUS, with MARPLOT behind him.

Sir Jeal. I don't know what's the matter, but I have a strong suspicion all is not right within; that fellow's sauntering about my door, and his tale of a puppy, had the face of a lie, methought.

By St Lago, if I should find a man in the house, I'd make mince-meat of him

Mar. Mince-meat! Ah, poor Charles! how I sweat for thee! Egad he's old-I fancy I might bully him, and make Charles have an opinion of my courage. Egad I'll pluck up, and have a touch with him.

Sir Jeal. My own key shall let me in; I'll give them no warning. [Feeling for his key. Mar. What's that you say, sir?

[Going up to SIR JEAL. Sir Jeal. What's that to you, sir?

[Turns quick upon him. Mar. Yes, 'tis to me, sir; for the gentleman you threaten is a very honest gentleman. Look to't, for if he comes not as safe out of your house as he went in

Sir Jeal. What, is he in, then?

Mar. Yes sir, he is in then; and, I say, if he does not come out, I have half a dozen myrmidons hard by, shall beat your house about your ears. Sir Jeal. Ah! a combination to undo me- -I'll myrmidon you, ye dog you !-Thieves! thieves! [Beats MARPLOT all the while he cries thieves. Mar. Murder! murder! I was not in your house, sir,

Enter Servant.

Ser. What's the matter, sir?

Enter SIR JEALOUS and his Servants. Sir Jeal. Are you sure you have searched every where?

Ser. Yes, from the top of the house to the bot

tom.

Sir Jeal. Under the beds, and over the beds? Ser. Yes, and in them too, but found nobody, sir.

Sir Jeal. Why, what could this rogue mean? Enter ISABINDA and PATCH.

Patch. Take courage, madam; I saw him safe out. [Aside to ISA. Isa. Bless me! what's the matter, sir? Sir Jeal. You know best-Pray, where's the man that was here just now?

Isa. What man, sir? I saw none. Patch. Nor I, by the trust you repose in me. Do you think I would let a man come within these doors, when you are absent?

Sir Jeal. Ah, Patch! she may be too cunning for thy honesty: the very scout, that he had set to give warning, discovered it to me--and threatened me with half a dozen myrmidons—but I think I mauled the villain. These afflictions you draw upon me, mistress!

Isa. Pardon me, sir; 'tis your own ridiculous humour draws you into these vexations, and gives every fool pretence to banter you.

to

Cha. A pox of your bawling! how the devil came you here?

Mar. Egad it's very well for you that I was here; I have done you a piece of service: I told the old thunderbolt that the gentleman that was gone in was

atoms.

Cha. Was it you that told him, sir? [Laying hold of him.] 'Sdeath! I could crush thee into [Exit CHA. Mar. What! will you choke me for my kindness? Will my inquiring soul never leave searching into other people's affairs till it gets squeezed out of my body? I dare not follow him now for my blood, he's in such a passion. I'll to Miranda; if I can discover aught that may oblige sir George, it may be a means to reconcile me again to Charles.

Sir Jeal. [Within.] Look about! search! find him out!

Mar. Oh, the devil! there's old Crabstick again! [Exit MAR.

Isa. And with what industry shall I avoid him!

[Aside.

Sir Jeal. Certainly that rogue had a message from somebody or other, but, being baulked by my coming, popped that sham upon me. Come along, ye sots! let's see if we can find the dog again. Patch! lock her up, d'ye hear?

[Exit SIR JEAL. Patch. Yes, sir-Ay, walk till your heels ache;, you'll find nobody, I promise you.

of?

Isa. Who could that scout be whom he talks

Patch. Nay, I can't imagine, without it was Whisper.

Isa. Well, dear Patch! let's employ all our thoughts how to escape this horrid Don Diego; my very heart sinks at his terrible name.

Putch. Fear not, madam; Don Carlo shall be the man, or I'll lose the reputation of contriving; and then, what's a chambermaid good for? Isa. Say'st thou so, my girl? then

'Let dad be jealous, multiply his cares; "Whilst love instructs me to avoid the snares,

SCENE IV.-SIR FRANCIS GRIPE's house. Enter SIR FRANCIS and MIRANDA meeting. Mir. Well, Gardy, how did I perform the dumb scene?

Sir Fran. To admiration-Thou dear little rogue! let me buss thee for it: nay, adad I will, Chargy, so muzzle, and tuzzle, and hug thee; I will, i'faith, I will. [Hugging and kissing her. Mir. Nay, Gardy, don't be so lavish. Who would ride post when the journey lasts for life? Sir Fran. Ah wag, ah wag! I'll buss thee again for that. Oh, I'm transported! When, when, my dear, wilt thou convince the world of the happy day? when shall we marry, ha?

Mir. There's nothing wanting but your consent, sir Francis,

Sir Fran. My consent! what does my charmer mean?

Mir. Nay, 'tis only a whim; but I'll have every thing according to form-therefore, when you sign an authentic paper, drawn up by an able lawyer, that I have your leave to marry, the next day makes me yours, Gardy.

Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha! a whim indeed! why, is it not demonstration I give my leave, when I marry thee?

Mir. Not for your reputation, Gardy; the malicious world will be apt to say you trick me into marriage, and so take the merit from my choice: now, I will have the act my own, to let the idle fops see how much I prefer a man loaded with years and wisdom.

Sir Fran. Humph! Prithee leave out years, Chargy; I'm not so old, as thou shalt find. Adad I'm young: there's a caper for ye! [Jumps.

Mir. Öh, never excuse it; why, I like you the better for being old-but I shall suspect you don't love me, if you refuse me this formality.

Sir Fran. Not love thee, Chargy! Adad I do love thee better than, than, than, better thanwhat shall I say? egad better than money; i'faith I do

Mir. That's false, I'm sure. [Aside.] To prove it, do this, then.

Sir Fran. Well, I will do it, Chargy, provided I bring a licence at the same time.

Mir. Ay, and a parson, too, if you please. Ha, ha, ha! I can't help laughing to think how all the young coxcombs about town will be mortified when they hear of our marriage!

Sir Fran. So they will, so they will; ha, ha, ha! Mir. Well, I fancy I shall be so happy with my Gardy

Sir Fran. If wearing pearls and jewels, or eating gold, as the old saying is, can make thee happy, thou shalt be so, my sweetest, my lovely, my charming, my-verily I know not what to call thee.

Mir. You must know, Gardy, that I am so eager to have this business concluded, that I have employed my woman's brother, who is a lawyer

in the Temple, to settle matters just to your liking. You are to give your consent to my marriage, which is to yourself you know: but, mum, you must take no notice of that. So then I will, that is, with your leave, put my writings into his hands; then, to-morrow, we come slap upon them with a wedding that nobody thought on, by which you seize me and my estate, and I suppose make a bonfire of your own act and deed. Sir Fran. Nay, but Chargy, ifMir. Nay, Gardy, no ifs

-Have I refused three northern lords, two British peers, and half a score knights, to have you put in your ifs?

Sir Fran. So thou hast indeed, and I will trust to thy management. 'Od, I'm all of a fire! Mir. 'Tis a wonder the dry stubble does not blaze. [Aside.

Enter MARPLOT.

Sir Fran. How now, who sent for you, sir? What, is the hundred pound gone already? Mar. No, sir; I don't want money, now, Gardy.

Sir Fran. No, that's a miracle! but there's one thing you want I'm sure.

Mar. Ay, what's that?

Sir Fran. Manners! What, had I no servants without?

Mar. None that could do my business, guardian, which is at present with this lady. Mir. With me, Mr Marplot! what is it, I beseech you?

Sir Fran. Ay, sir, what is it? any thing that relates to her may be delivered to me. Mar. I deny that.

Mir. That's more than I do, sir.

Mar. Indeed, madam! Why, then, to proceed: Fame says-you know best whether she lies or not--that you and my most conscionable guardian here have designed, contrived, plotted, and agreed, to chouse a very civil, honest, honou|rable gentleman out of a hundred pounds: Guilty or not?

Mir. That I contrived it!

Mar. Ay, you-you said never a word against it; so far you are guilty.

Sir Fran. Pray tell that civil, honest, honourable gentleman, that if he has any more such sums to fool away, they shall be received like the last; ha, ha, ha! Choused, quotha! But hark ye, let him know at the same time, that if he dare to report I tricked him of it, I shall recommend a lawyer to him shall shew him a trick for twice as much. D'ye hear? tell him that.

Mar. So, and this is the way you use a gentle, man, and my friend!

Mir. Is the wretch thy friend? Mar. The wretch! look ye, madam, don't call names; egad I won't take it.

ha!

Mir. Why, you won't beat me, will you? Ha,

Mar. I don't know whether I will or no.

Sir Fran. Which is chiefly owing to his tailor and valet de chambre.

Mar. Well! and who is your dress owing to, ha? There's a beau, ma'am do but look at him! Sir Fran. Sirrah!

Mir. And if being a beau be a proof of his being a fine gentleman, he may be so.

Mar. He may be so! Why, ma'am, the judicious part of the world allow him wit, courage, gallantry, ay, and economy, too; though I think he forfeited that character, when he flung away a hundred pounds upon your dumb ladyship.

Sir Fran. Does that gall him? Ha, ha, ha! Mir. So, sir George, remaining in deep discontent, has sent you, his trusty squire, to utter his complaint. Ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Yes, madam; and you, like a cruel hardhearted Jew, value it no more-than I would your ladyship, were I sir George; you, you, you

Mir. Oh, don't call names: I know you love to be employed, and I'll oblige you, and you shall carry him a message from me.

Mar. According as I like it. What is it? Mir. Nay, a kind one, you may be sureFirst, tell him I have chose this gentleman, to have and to hold, and so forth.

[Clapping her hand into SIR FRANCIS'S. Mar. Much good may do you ! Sir Fran. Oh, the dear rogue! how I dote on her! [Aside. Mir. And advise his impertinence to trouble me no more, for I prefer sir Francis for a husband before all the fops in the universe.

Mar. Oh Lord, oh Lord! she's bewitched, that's certain. Here's a husband for eighteenhere's a titbit for a young lady-here's a shape, an air, and a grace-here's bones rattling in a leathern bag-[Turning SIR FRANCIS about.]Here's buckram and canvas to scrub you to repentance.

Sir Fran. Sirrah, my cane shall teach you repentance presently.

Mar. No, faith; I have felt its twin brother from just such a whithered hand too lately.

Mir. One thing more; advise him to keep from the garden-gate on the left hand; for if he dare to saunter there, about the hour of eight, as he used to do, he shall be saluted with a pistol or

a blunderbuss.

VOL. II.

Sir Fran. Oh, monstrous! Why, Chargy, did he use to come to the garden-gate?

Mir. The gardener described just such another man that always watched his coming out, and fain would have bribed him for his entranceTell him he shall find a warm reception if he comes this night.

Mar. Pistols and blunderbusses! Egad! a warm reception indeed! I shall take care to inform him of your kindness, and advise him to keep farther off.

Mir. I hope he will understand my meaning better than to follow your advice. Aside.

Sir Fran. Thou hast signed, sealed, and taken possession of my heart for ever, Chargy, ha, ha, ha! and for you, Mr Sauccbox, let me have no more of your messages, if ever you design to inherit your estate, gentleman.

Mar. Why, there 'tis now. Sure I shall be out of your clutches one day-Well, Guardian, I say no more: but if you be not as arrant a cuckold as e'er drove bargain upon the exchange, or paid attendance to a court, I am the son of a whetstone; and so your humble servant.

[Going. Mir. Mr Marplot, don't forget the message: ha, ha, ha, ha ! Mar. Nang, nang, nang! [Exit. Sir Fran. I am so provoked-'tis well he's

gone..

Mir. Oh, mind him not, Gardy, but let's sign articles, and then

Sir Fran. And then-Adad I believe I am metamorphosed; my pulse beats high, and my blood boils, methinks

[Kissing and hugging her. Mir. Oh, fie, Gardy! be not so violent: consider the market lasts all the year.-Well; I'll in, and see if the lawyer be come : you'll follow? [Exit.

Sir Fran. Ay, to the world's end, my dear! Well, Frank, thou art a lucky fellow in thy old age, to have such a delicate morsel, and thirty thousand pounds, in love with thee. I shall be the envy of bachelors, the glory of married men, and the wonder of the town. Some guardians would be glad to compound for part of the estate at dispatching an heiress, but I engross the whole. O! mihi præteritos referet si Jupiter [Exit.

annos.

SCENE V.-Changes to a tavern. Discovers SIR GEORGE and CHARLES with wine

before them, and WHISPER waiting. Sir Geo. Nay, prithee, don't be grave, Charles: misfortunes will happen. Ha, ha, ha! 'tis some comfort to have a companion in our sufferings.

Cha. I am only apprehensive for Isabinda; her father's humour is implacable; and how far his jealousy may transport him to her undoing, shocks my soul to think.

3 X

Sir Geo. But since you escaped undiscovered by him, his rage will quickly lash into a calm; never fear it.

Cha. But who knows what that unlucky dog, Marplot, told him; nor can I imagine what brought him hither: that fellow is ever doing mischief; and yet, to give him his due, he never designs it. This is some blundering adventure wherein he thought to shew his friendship, as he calls it a curse on him!

Sir Geo. Then you must forgive him. said he?

What Cha. Said! nay, I had more mind to cut his throat, than to hear his excuses.

Sir Geo. Where is he?

Enter WHISPER, with pen, ink, and paper. Mar. You'd say it was no good sign, if you knew all.

Sir Geo. Why, prithee!

Mar. Hark'e, sir George, let me warn you; pursue your old haunt no more; it may be dangerous. [CHARLES sits down to write. Sir Geo. My old haunt! what do you mean? Mar. Why, in short, then, since you will have it, Miranda vows, if you dare approach the garden-gate at eight o'clock, as you used, you shall meet with a warm reception.

Sir Geo. A warm reception!

Mar. Aye, a very warm reception-you shall be saluted with a blunderbuss, sir. These were her very words: nay, she bid me tell you so,

too.

Sir Geo. Ha! the garden gate at eight, as I used to do! There must be meaning in this. Is there such a gate, Charles?

Mar. Is there such a gate, Charles?

Cha. Yes, yes; it opens into the Park: I suppose her ladyship has made many a scamper through it.

Sir Geo. It must be an assignation, then. Ha! my heart springs for joy; 'tis a propitious omen. My dear Marplot! Let me embrace thee; thou art my friend, my better angel.

Mar. What do you mean, sir George?

Sir Geo. No matter what I mean. Here, take a bumper to the garden-gate, you dear rogue you!

Mar. You have reason to be transported, sir George; I have saved your life.

Sir Geo. My life! thou hast saved my soul, man. Charles, if thou dost not pledge this health, may'st thou never taste the joys of love!

Cha. Whisper, be sure you take care how you deliver this.[Gives him the letter.]-Bring me the answer to my lodgings.

Whis. I warrant you, sir.

Mar. Whither does that letter go? Now, dare I not ask for my blood-That fellow knows more secrets than I do.

[Exit WHISPER.

Cha. Now I'm for you. Sir Geo. To the garden-gate at the hour of eight, Charles: along; huzza!

Cha. I begin to conceive you.

Mar. That's more than I do, egad-To the garden-gate, huzza!-[Drinks.]—But, I hope, you design to keep far enough off ou't, sir George?

Sir Geo. Aye, aye; never fear that; she shall see I despise her frowns; let her use the blunderbuss against the next fool; she sha'nt reach me with the smoke, I warrant her; ha, ha, ha!

Mar. Ah, Charles! if you could receive a disappointment thus en cavalier, one should have some comfort in being beat for you.