Love for Love/Act V

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Rome in Foresight's House.

Enter Angelica and Jenny.

Ang.Where is Sir Sampson? Did you not tell me, he wou'd be here before me?

Jenny.He's at the great Glass in the Dining-Room, Madam, setting his Cravat and Wig.

Ang.How! I'm glad on't—if he has a Mind I shou'd like him, it's a sign he likes me; and that's more than half my Design.

Jenny.I hear him, Madam.

Ang.Leave me; and d'ye hear, if Valentine shou'd come or send, I am not to be spoken with. [Exit Jenny.

Enter Sir Sampson.

Sir Samp.I have not been honour'd with the Commands of a fair Lady a great while—Odd, Madam, you have reviv'd me—Not since I was Five and Thirty.

Ang.Why, you have no great reason to complain, Sir Sampson, that is not long ago.

Sir Samp.Zooks, but it is, Madam, a very great while, to a Man that admires a Fine Woman as much as I do.

Ang.You're an absolute Courtier, Sir Sampson.

Sir Samp.Not at all, Madam: Odsbud you wrong me; I am not so old neither, to be a bare Courtier, only a Man of Words: Odd, I have warm Blood about me yet, and can serve a Lady any way—Come, come, let me tell you, you Women think a Man old too soon, Faith and Troth you do—Come, don't despise Fifty; odd Fifty, in a hale Constitution, is no such contemptible Age.

Ang.Fifty a contemptible Age! Not at all, a very fashionable Age, I think—I assure you, I know very considerable Beaus, that set a good Face upon Fifty; Fifty! I have seen Fifty in a Side-Box by Candle-light out-blossom Five and Twenty.

Sir Samp.O Pox, Outsides, Outsides; a pize take 'em, meer Outsides: Hang your Side-Box Beaus; no, I'm none of those, none of your forc'd Trees, that pretend to Blossom in the Fall, and Bud when they shou'd bring forth Fruit: I am of a long liv'd Race, and inherit Vigour, none of my Family married 'till Fifty; yet they begot Sons and Daughters 'till Fourscorce: I am of your Patriarchs, I, a Branch of one of your Antideluvian Families, Fellows that the Flood cou'd not wash away: Well, Madam, what are your Commands? Has any young Rogue affronted you, and shall I cut his Throat? or—

Ang.No, Sir Sampson, I have no Quarrel upon my Hands—I have more occasion for your Conduct than your Courage at this time. To tell you the Truth, I'm weary of living single, and want a Husband.

Sir Samp.Odsbud, and 'tis pity you shou'd—Odd, wou'd she wou'd like me, then I shou'd hamper my young Rogues: Odd, wou'd she wou'd; Faith and Troth she's devilish Handsom. [Aside.] Madam, you deserve a good Husband, and 'twere a pity you shou'd be thrown away upon any of these young idle Rogues about the Town. Odd, there's ne'er a young Fellow worth hanging,—that is a very young Fellow—Pize on 'em, they never think beforehand of any thing;—And if they commit Matrimony, 'tis as they commit Murder, out of a Frolick: And are ready to hang themselves, or to be hang'd by the Law, the next Morning:—Odso, have a care, Madam.

Ang.Therefore I ask your Advice, Sir Sampson: I have Fortune enough to make any Man easie that I can like; if there were such a thing as a young agreeable Man, with a reasonable Stock of good Nature and Sense—For I wou'd neither have an absolute Wit, nor a Fool.

Sir Samp.Odd, you are hard to please, Madam; to find a young Fellow that is neither a Wit in his own Eye, nor a Fool in the Eye of the World, is a very hard Task. But, Faith and Troth, you speak very discreetly; for I hate both a Wit and a Fool.

Angl.She that marries a Fool, Sir Sampson, commits the Reputation of her Honesty or Understanding to the Censure of the World: And she that marries a very witty Man, submits both to the Severity and insolent Conduct of her Husband. I shou'd like a Man of Wit for a Lover, because I wou'd have such an one in my Power; but I wou'd no more be his Wife than his Enemy. For his Malice is not a more terrible Consequence of his Aversion, than his Jealousie is of his Love.

Sir Samp.None of old Foresight's Sybills ever utter'd such a Truth. Odsbud, you have won my Heart: I hate a Wit; I had a Son that was spoil'd among 'em; a good hopeful Lad, 'till he learn'd to be a Wit—And might have risen in the State—But, a Pox on't, his Wit run him out of his Mony, and now his Poverty has run him out of his Wits.

Ang.Sir Sampson, as your Friend, I must tell you, you are very much abus'd in that matter; he's no more mad than you are.

Sir Samp.How, Madam! Wou'd I cou'd prove it.

Ang.I can tell you how that may be done—But it is a thing that wou'd make me appear to be too much concern'd in your Affairs.

Sir Samp.Odsbud I believe she likes me.———[Aside.]———Ah, Madam, all my Affairs are scarce worthy to be laid at your Feet; and I wish, Madam, they stood in a better Posture, that I might make a more becoming Offer to a Lady of your incomparable Beauty and Merit.———If I had Peru in one Hand, and Mexico in t'other, and the Eastern Empire under my Feet, it wou'd make me only a more glorious Victim to be offer'd at the Shrine of your Beauty.

Ang.Bless me, Sir Sampson, what's the matter?

Sir Samp.Odd, Madam, I love you———And if you wou'd take my Advice in a Husband———

Ang.Hold, hold, Sir Sampson. I ask'd your Advice for a Husband, and you are giving me your Consent—I was indeed thinking to propose something like it in Jest, to satisfie you about Valentine: For if a Match were seemingly carried on between you and me, it wou'd oblige him to throw off his Disguise of Madness, in apprehension of losing me: For you know he has long pretended a Passion for me.

Sir Samp.Gadzooks, a most ingenious Contrivance—If we were to go throw with it. But why must the Match only be seemingly carried on?—Odd, let it be a real Contract.

Ang.O fie, Sir Sampson, what wou'd the World say?

Sir Samp.Say, they wou'd say you were a wise Woman, and I a happy Man. Odd, Madam, I'll love you as long as I live; and leave you a good Jointure when I die.

Ang.Ay; but that is not in your Power, Sir Sampson; for when Valentine confesses himself in his Senses, he must make over his Inheritance to his younger Brother.

Sir Samp.Odd, you're cunning, a wary Baggage! Faith and Troth I like you the better—But, I warrant you, I have a Proviso in the Obligation in Favour of my self—Body o'me, I have a Trick to turn the Settlement upon the Issue Male of our two Bodies begotten. Odsbud, let us find Children, and I'll find an Estate.

Ang.Will you? well, do you find the Estate, and leave the t'other to me—

Sir Samp.O Rogue! But I'll trust you. And will you consent? Is it a Match then?

Ang.Let me consult my Lawyer concerning this Obligation; and if I find what you propose practicable, I'll give you my Answer.

Sir Samp.With all my Heart;—Come in with me, and I'll lend you the Bond,—You shall consult your Lawyer, and I'll consult a Parson; Odzooks I'm a young Man: Odzooks I'm a young Man, and I'll make it appear—Odd, you're devilish Handsom: Faith and Troth you're very Handsom, and I'm very [Page 68] Young, and very Lusty—Odsbud, Hussy, you know how to chuse, and so do I;—Odd, I think we are very well met;—Give me your Hand, Odd let me kiss it; 'tis as warm and as soft—as what?—Odd, as t'other Hand—give me t'other Hand, and I'll mumble 'em, and kiss 'em 'till they melt in my Mouth.

Ang.Hold, Sir Sampson—You're profuse of your Vigor before your time: You'll spend your Estate before you come to it.

Sir Samp.No, no, only give you a Rent-roll of my Possessions—Ah! Baggage—I warrant you; for little Sampson:

Odd, Sampson's a very good Name for an able Fellow: Your Sampsons were strong Dogs from the Beginning.

Ang.Have a care, and don't over-act your Part—If you remember, the strongest Sampson of your Name pull'd an old House over his Head at last.

Sir Samp.Say you so, Hussy?—Come, let's go then; Odd, I long to be pulling down too, come away—Odso, here's some Body coming. [Exeunt.

Enter Tattle and Jeremy.

Tatt.Is not that she, gone out just now?

Jere.Ay, Sir, she's just going to the Place of Appointment. Ah, Sir, if you are not very faithful and close in this Business, you'll certainly be the Death of a Person that has a most extraordinary Passion for your Honour's Service.

Tatt.Ay, who's that?

Jere.Even my unworthy self, Sir—Sir, I have had an Appetite to be fed with your Commands a great while;—And now, Sir, my former Master having much troubled the Fountain of his Understanding, it is a very plausible Occasion for me to quench my Thirst at the Spring of your Bounty—I thought I cou'd not recommend my self better to you, Sir, than by the delivery of a great Beauty and Fortune into your Arms, whom I have heard you sigh for.

Tatt.I'll make thy Fortune; say no more—Thou art a pretty Fellow, and can'st carry a Message to a Lady in a pretty soft kind of Phrase, and with a good persuading Accent.

Jere.Sir, I have the Seeds of Rhetorick and Oratory in my Head—I have been at Cambridge.

Tatt.Ay; 'tis well enough for a Servant to be bred at an University: But the Education is a little too Pedantick for a Gentleman. I hope you are secret in your Nature, private, close, ha?

Jere.O Sir, for that, Sir, 'tis my chief Talent; I'm as secret as the Head of Nilus.

Tatt.Hye? Who's he, tho'? A Privy-Counsellor?

Jere.O Ignorance! [aside.]A cunning AEgyptian, Sir, that with his Arms wou'd over-run the Country, yet no body cou'd ever find out his Head-Quarters.

Tatt.Close Dog! A good Whoremaster, I warrant him—The Time draws nigh, Jeremy. Angelica will be veil'd like a Nun; and I must be hooded like a Friar; ha, Jeremy?

Jere.Ay, Sir, hooded like a Hawk, to seize at first sight upon the Quarry. It is the Whim of my Master's Madness to be so dress'd; and she is so in Love with him, she'll comply with any thing to please him. Poor Lady, I'm sure she'll have reason to pray for me, when she finds what a happy Exchange she has made, between a Madman and so Accomplish'd a Gentleman.

Tatt.Ay Faith, so she will, Jeremy: You're a good Friend to her, poor Creature—I swear I do it hardly so much in Consideration of my self, as Compassion to her.

Jere.'Tis an Act of Charity, Sir, to save a fine Woman with Thirty Thousand Pound, from throwing her self away.

Tatt.So 'tis, faith—I might have sav'd several others in my time; but I Gad I cou'd never find in my Heart to Marry any body before.

Jere.Well, Sir, I'll go and tell her my Master's coming; and meet you in half a quarter of an Hour, with your Disguise, at your own Lodgings. You must talk a little madly, she won't distinguish the Tone of your Voice.

Tatt.No, no, let me alone for a Counterfeit;———I'll be ready for you.

Enter Miss.

Miss.O Mr. Tattle, are you here! I'm glad I have found you; I have been looking up and down for you like any thing, 'till I'm as tired as any thing in the World.

Tatt.O Pox how shall I get rid of this foolish Girl? [Aside.

Miss.O I have pure News, I can tell you pure News—I must not marry the Seaman now—my Father says so. Why won't you be my Husband? You say you love me, and you won't be my Husband. And I know you may be my Husband now if you please.

Tatt.O fie, Miss: Who told you so, Child?

Miss.Why, my Father—I told him that you lov'd me.

Tatt.O fie, Miss; why did you do so? And who told you so, Child?

Miss.Who? Why you did; did not you?

Tatt.O Pox, that was Yesterday, Miss; that was a great while ago, Child. I have been asleep since; slept a whole Night, and did not so much as dream of the matter.

Miss.Pshaw, O but I dream'd that it was so tho'.

Tatt.Ay, but your Father will tell you that Dreams come by Contraries, Child—O fie; what, we must not love one another now—Pshaw, that wou'd be a foolish thing indeed—Fie, fie, you are a Woman now, and must think of a new Man every Morning, and forget him every Night—No, no, to marry is to be a Child again, and play with the same Rattle always: O fie, Marrying is a paw thing.

Miss.Well, but don't you love me as well as you did last Night then?

Tatt.No, no, Child, you wou'd not have me.

Miss.No? Yes but I wou'd tho'.

Tatt.Pshaw, but I tell you, you wou'd not—You forget you're a Woman, and don't know your own Mind.

Miss.But here's my Father, and he knows my Mind.

Enter Foresight.

Fore.O, Mr. Tattle, your Servant, you are a close Man; but methinks your Love to my Daughter was a Secret I might have been trusted with,—Or had you a mind to try if I cou'd discover it by my Art—hum, ha! I think there is something in your Physiognomy, that has a Resemblance of her; and the Girl is like me.

Tatt.And so you wou'd infer, that you and I are alike—what does the old Prig mean? I'll banter him, and laugh at him, and leave him. [Aside.] I fancy you have a wrong Notion of Faces.

Fore.How? What? A wrong Notion! How so?

Tatt.In the way of Art: I have some taking Features, not obvious to Vulgar Eyes, that are Indications of a sudden turn of good Fortune, in the Lottery of Wives; and Promise a great Beauty and great Fortune reserv'd alone for me, by a private Intriegue of Destiny, kept secret from the piercing Eye of Perspicuity; from all Astologers, and the Stars themselves.

Fore.How! I will make it appear that what you say is impossible.

Tatt.Sir, I beg your Pardon, I'm in haste———

Fore.For what?

Tatt.To be married, Sir, married.

Fore.Aye, but pray take me along with you, Sir———

Tatt.No, Sir; 'tis to be done Privately———I never make Confidents.

Fore.Well; but my Consent I mean———You won't marry my Daughter without my Consent?

Tatt.Who I, Sir? I'm an absolute Stranger to you and your Daughter, Sir.

Fore.Hey day! What time of the Moon is this?

Tatt.Very true, Sir, and desire to continue so. I have no more love for your Daughter, than I have likeness of you; and I have a Secret in my Heart, which you wou'd be glad to know, and shan't know; and yet you shall know it too, and be sorry for't afterwards. I'd have you to know, Sir, that I am as knowing 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,———I 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.O Father, why will you let him go? Won't you make him be my Husband?

Fore.Mercy on us, what do these Lunacies portend? Alas! he's mad, Child, stark wild.

Miss.What, and must not I have e're 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! methinks I'm sick when I think of a Man; and if I can't have one, I wou'd 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 a sleeping, than sick with thinking.

Fore.O fearful! I think the Girl's influenc'd too,—Hussie, you shall have a Rod.

Miss.A Fiddle of a Rod, I'll have a Husband; and if you won't get me one, I'll get one for my self: I'll marry our Robbin the Buttler, he says he loves me, and he's a Handsom 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.

Fore.Did he so—I'll dispatch him for't presently; Rogue! Oh, Nurse, come hither.

Nurse.What is your Worship's Pleasure?

Fore.Here take your Young Mistress, and lock her up presently, 'till farther Orders from me—Not a Word, Hussie—Do what I bid you, no Reply, away. And bid Robbin make ready to give an Account of his Plate and Linnen, d'ye hear, begone when I bid you.
[Ex. Nurse and Miss

Mrs. Fore.What's the matter, Husband?

Fore.'Tis not convenient to tell you now—Mr. Scandal, Heav'n keep us all in our Senses—I fear there is a contagious Frenzy abroad. How does Valentine?

Scan.O I hope he will do well again—I have a Message from him to your Niece Angelica.

Fore.I think she has not return'd, since she went abroad with Sir Sampson.

Enter Ben.

Mrs. Fore.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. Fore.Why, what's the Matter?

Ben.Matter! Why he's mad.

Fore.Mercy on us, I was afraid of this.

Ben.And there's the Handsom Young Woman, she, as they say, Brother Val. went mad for, she's mad too, I think.

Fore.O my poor Niece, my poor Niece, is she gone too? Well, I shall run mad next.

Mrs. Fore.Well, but how mad? how d'ee mean?

Ben.Nay, I'll give you leave to guess—I'll undertake to make a Voyage to Antegoa—No, hold, I mayn't say so neither—But I'll sail as far as Legorn, and back again, before you shall guess at the matter, and do nothing else; Mess, you may take in all the Points of the Compass, and not hit Right.

Mrs. Fore.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 a going to be married to rights.

Scan.Who?

Ben.Why Father, and—the Young Woman. I can't hit of her Name.

Scan.Angelica?

Ben.Ay, the same.

Mrs. Fore.Sir Sampsonand Angelica, impossible!

Ben.That may be—but I'm sure it is as I tell you.

Scan.'S'death it's a Jest, I can't believe it.

Ben.Look you, Friend, it's 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.

Fore.Well, but they are hot mad, that is, not Lunatick?

Ben.I don't know what you may call Madness—But she's mad for a Husband, and he's Horn-mad, I think, or they'd ne'er make a Match together—Here they come.

Enter Sir Sampson, Angelica, with Buckram.

Sir Samp.Where is this old Soothsayer? This Uncle of mine Elect? A ha, 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 Ephemeris—The brightest Star in the blue Firmament—is shot from above, in a Jelly of Love, and so forth; and I'm Lord 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 Musick of the Spheres for thee, Old Lilly, that we will, and thou shalt lead up a Dance in via Lactea.

Fore.I'm Thunder-struck! You are not married to my Niece?

Sir Samp.Not absolutely married, Uncle; but very near it, within a Kiss of the matter, as you see. [Kisses Ang.

Ang.'Tis very true indeed, Uncle; I hope you'll be my Father, and give me.

Sir Samp.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.

Scan.Death and Hell! Where's Valentine? [Exit Scan.

Mrs. Fore.This is so surprizing—

Sir Samp.How! What does my Aunt say? Surprizing, 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 call'd a Warming-Pan.

Mrs. Fore.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; may-hap it will only serve to light up a Match for some Body else. The Young Woman's a Handsom Young Woman, I can't deny it: But Father, if I might be your Pilot in this Case, you shou'd not marry her. It's just the same thing, as if so be you shou'd Sail so far as the Straights without Provision.

Sir Samp.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 steddy.

Sir Samp.Why, you impudent Tarpawlin! Sirrah, do you bring your Fore-castle Jests upon your Father? But I shall be even with you, I won't give you a Groat. Mr. Buckram, is the Conveyance so worded, that nothing can possibly descend to this Scoundrel? I wou'd not so much as have him have the Prospect of an Estate; tho' there were no way to come to it, but by the North-East Passage.

Buck.Sir, it is drawn according to your Directions; there is not the least Cranny of the Law unstopp'd.

Ben.Lawyer, I believe there's many a Cranny and Leak unstopp'd in your Conscience—If so be that one had a Pump to your Bosom, I believe we shou'd discover a foul Hold. They say a Witch will sail in a Sieve—But I believe the Devil wou'd not venture abroad o'your Conscience. And that's for you.

Sir Samp.Hold your Tongue, Sirrah. How now, who's there?

Enter Tattle and Frail.

Frail.O, Sir, the most unlucky Accident!

Mrs. Fore.What's the matter?

Tatt.O, the two most unfortunate poor Creatures in the World we are.

Fore.Bless us! How so?

Frail.Ah, Mr. Tattle and I, poor Mr. Tattle and I are—I can't speak it out.

Tatt.Nor I—But poor Mrs. Frail and I are—

Frail.Married.

Mrs. Fore.Married! How?

Tatt.Suddenly—before we know where we were—that Villain Jeremy, by the help of Disguises, trick'd us into one another.

Fore.Why, you told me just now, you went hence in haste to be married.

Ang.But I believe Mr. Tattle meant the Favour to me, I thank him.

Tatt.I did, as I hope to be sav'd, Madam, my Intentions were good—But this is the most cruel thing, to marry one does not know how, nor why, nor wherefore—The Devil take me if ever I was so much concern'd at any thing in my Life.

Ang.'Tis very unhappy, if you don't care for one another.

Tatt.The least in the World—That is for my Part, I speak for my self. Gad, I never had the least thought of serious Kindness—I never lik'd any Body less in my Life. Poor Woman! Gad I'm sorry for her too; for I have no reason to hate her neither; but I believe I shall lead her a damn'd sort of a Life.

Mrs. Fore.He's better than no Husband at all—tho' he's a Coxcomb. [Aside to Frail.

Frail to her.Ay, ay, it's well it's no worse—Nay, for my part I always despis'd Mr. Tattle of all things; nothing but his being my Husband cou'd have made me like him less.

Tatt.Look you there, I thought as much—Pox on't, I wish we cou'd keep it secret, why I don't believe any of this Company wou'd speak of it.

Frail.But, my Dear, that's impossible; the Parson and that Rogue Jeremy will publish it.

Tatt.Ay, my Dear, so they will, as you say.

Ang.O you'll agree very well in a little time; Custom will make it easie to you.

Tatt.Easie! Pox on't, I don't believe I shall Sleep to Night.

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

Ben.Why there's another Match now, as tho'f a couple of Privateers were looking for a Prize, and shou'd fall foul of one another. I'm sorry for the Young Man with all my Heart. Look you, Friend, if I may advise you, when she's going, for that you must expect, I have Experience of her, when she'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, she'll break her Cable, I can tell you that. Who's here? the Madman?

Enter Valentine dress'd, Scandal and Jeremy.

Val.No, here's the Fool; and if occasion 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 Senses 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 shewn it such.

Sir Samp.Contrivance, what to cheat me? to cheat your Father! Sirrah, cou'd you hope to prosper?

Val.Indeed, I thought, Sir, when the Father endeavour'd 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 Sign and Seal?

Val.If you please, Sir; but first I wou'd ask this Lady one Question.

Sir Samp.Sir, you must ask me leave first; that Lady, no, Sir; you shall ask that Lady no Questions, 'till you have ask'd her Blessing, 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 say I lie, Sir, and you don't believe what I say.

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, satisfie him, answer him;—Come, come, Mr. Buckram, the Pen and Ink.

Buck.Here it is, Sir, with the Deed, all is ready.
[Val goes to Ang.

Ang.'Tis true, you have a great while pretended Love to me; nay, what if you were sincere? Still you must Pardon me, if I think my own Inclinations have a better Right to dispose of my Person, 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 Sign, Sir? Come, will you Sign and Seal?

Val.With all my Heart, Sir.

Scan.'Sdeath, you are not Mad indeed, to ruin your self?

Val.I have been disappointed of my only Hope; and he that loses Hope may part with any thing. I never valu'd Fortune, but as it was subservient to my Pleasure; and my only Pleasure was to please this Lady: I have made many vain Attempts, and find at last that nothing but my Ruine can effect it: Which, for that Reason, I will Sign to—Give me the Paper.

Ang.Generous Valentine! [Aside.

Buck.Here is the Deed, Sir.

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

Buck.Sir Sampson, you have it.

Ang.No, I have it; and I'll use it, as I wou'd every thing that is an Enemy to Valentine. [Tears the Paper.

Sir Samp.How now!

Val.Ha!

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

Val.Between Pleasure and Amazement I am lost—But on my Knees I take the Blessing.

Sir Samp.Oons, what is the meaning of this?

Ben.Mess here's the Wind chang'd again. Father, you and I may make a Voyage together now.

Ang.Well, Sir Sampson, since 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 second Wife. I always lov'd your Son, and hated your unforgiving Nature. I was resolv'd to try him to the utmost; 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 my self 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 sudden Eclipse———

Sir Samp.You're an illiterate Fool, and I'm another, and the Stars are Liars; and if I had Breath enough, I'd curse them and you, my self and every Body—Oons, Cully'd, Bubbl'd, Jilted, Woman-bobb'd at last, I have not Patience. [Exit Sir Samp.

Tatt.If the Gentleman is in this Disorder for want of a Wife, I can spare him mine. Oh, are you there, Sir? I'm indebted to you for my Happiness. [To Jere.

Jere.Sir, I ask you Ten Thousand Pardons, 'twas an errant Mistake—You see, Sir, my Master was never mad, nor any thing like it—Then how cou'd it be otherwise?

Val.Tattle, I thank you; you wou'd have interposed between me and Heav'n, but Providence laid Purgatory in your way—You have but Justice.

Scan.I hear the Fiddles that Sir Sampson provided for his own Wedding; methinks 'tis pity they shou'd not be employ'd when the Match is so 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.I have done dissembling now, Valentine; and if that Coldness which I have always worn before you, shou'd turn to an extream Fondness, you must not suspect it.

Val.I'll prevent that Suspicion—For I intend to doat on at that immoderate rate, that your Fondness shall never distinguish it self enough to be taken notice of. If ever you seem to love too much, it must be only when I can't love enough.

Ang.Have a care of Promises: 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 Musick stays for you.

Dance.

Scan.Well, Madam, you have done Exemplary Justice, in punishing an inhuman Father, and rewarding a faithful Lover: But there is a third good Work, which I, in particular, must 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 bestowing Favours, either to those who do not merit, or who do not want 'em.

Ang.'Tis an unreasonable Accusation, that you lay upon our Sex: You tax us with Injustice, only to cover your own want of Merit. You wou'd all have the Reward of Love, but few have the Constancy to stay '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 persevere even unto Martyrdom, and sacrifice their Interest to their Constancy! In admiring me, you misplace the Novelty.

The Miracle to Day is, that we find
A Lover true: Not that a Woman's Kind.
[Exeunt Omnes.

FINIS.