Arch. Nay, if you adhere to those principles, stop where you are.

Aim. I can't stop; for I love her to distraction. Arch. 'Sdeath, if you love her a hair's breadth beyond discretion, you must go no farther.

Aim. Well, well, any thing to deliver us from sauntering away our idle evenings at White's, Tom's, or Will's-but now

Arch. Ay, now is the time to prevent all thisStrike while the iron is hot-The priest is the luckiest part of our adventure; he shall marry you and pimp for me.

Aim. But I should not like a woman that can be so fond of a Frenchman.

Arch. Alas, Sir, necessity has no law; the lady may be in distress. But if the plot lies as I suspect-I must put on the gentleman. But here comes the doctor; I shall be ready. [Exit.

Enter FOIGARD.

Foig. Shave you, noble friend. Aim. O, Sir, your servant. Pray, doctor, may I crave your name?

Foig, Fat naam is upon me? My name is Foigard, joy.

Aim. Foigard! a very good for a clergyman. Pray, Doctor Foigard, were you ever in Ireland? Foig. Ireland! No, joy. Fat sort of a plaace is dat shame Ireland? Dey say de people are catched dere when they are young.

Aim. And some of them here when they are old,-as for example-[Takes FOIGARD by the shoulder.] Sir, I arrest you as a traitor against government; you are a subject of England, and this morning showed me a commission, by which you served as chaplain in the French army. This is death by our law, and your reverence must hang for it.

Foig. Upon my shoul, noble friend, dis is strange news you tell me; fader Foigard a subject of England! de son of a burgomaster at Brussels a subject of England! Ubooboo

Aim. The son of a bog-trotter in Ireland. Sir, your tongue will condemn you before any bench in the kingdom.

Foig. And is my tongue all your evidensh, joy? Aim. That's enough.

Foig. No, no, joy, for I will never spaak English no more.

Aim. Sir, I have other evidence. Here, Martin, you know this fellow.

Enter ARCHER.

Arch. [In a brogue.] Shave you, my dear cussen, how does your health?

Foig. Ah! upon my soul, dere is my countryman, and his brogue will hang mine. [Aside.] Mynhere, Ick wet neal watt hey zacht, ich Universton ewe neet, sacramant.

Aim. Altering your language wont do, Sir; this fellow knows your person, and will swear to your face.

Foig. Faash! Fey, is der de broguo upon my faash, too?

Arch. Upon my salvation dere is, joy.-But,| cussen Mackshane, vill you not put a remembrance upon me?

Foig. Mackshane! by St. Patrick, dat ish my name sure enough. [Aside.

Aim. I fancy, Archer, you have it. Foig. The devil hang you, joy-By fat acquaintance are you my cussen?

Arch. O, de devil hang yourshelf, joy, you know we were little boys togeder upon de school, and your foster-moder's son was married upon my nurse's shister, joy, and so we are Irish

cussens.

Arch. I think it was

Foig. De devil take de relationship! Vell, joy; and fat school was it? Ay-'twas Tipperary. Foig. Now, upon my shoul, joy, it was Kilkenny.

Aim. That's enough for us-self-confessionCome, Sir, we must deliver you into the hands of the next magistrate.

Arch. He sends you to gaol, you're tried next assizes, and away you go swing into purgatory. Foig. And is it so wid you, cussen?

Arch. It will be so wid you, cussen, if you don't immediately confess the secret between you and Mrs. Gipsey. Lookye, Sir, the gallows or the secret, take your choice.

Foig. The gallows! Upon my shoul I hate that shaame gallows, for it ish a disease dat is fatal to our family.-Vell, den, there is nothing, gentlemen, but Mrs. Sullen would speak wid the count in her chamber at midnight; and dere is no harm, joy, for I am to conduct the count to de plaash myself.

Arch. As I guessed.--Have you communicated the matter to the count?

Foig. I have not seen him since.

Arch. Right again; why then, doctor-you shall conduct me to the lady instead of the count? Foig. Fat, my cussen to the lady! upon my shoul, gra, dat 's too much upon the brogue.

Arch. Come, come, doctor, consider we have got a rope about your neck, and if you offer to squeak, we'll stop your windpipe, most certainly; we shall have another job for you in a day or two, I hope.

Aim. Here's company coming this way; let's into my chamber, and there concert our affairs

further.

Bag. And blows like the devil: our landlord here has shown us the window where we must break in, and tells us the plate stands in the wainscot cupboard in the parlour.

Bon. Ay, ay, Mr. Bagshot, as the saying is, knives and forks, cups and cans, tumblers and tankards-There's one tankard, as the saying is, that's near upon as big as me; it was a present to the 'squire from his godmother, and smells of nutmeg and toast, like an East India ship.

Houn. Then you say we must divide at the stair-head.

Bon. Yes, Mr. Hounslow, as the saying isAt one end of the gallery lies my Lady Bountiful and her daughter, and at the other Mrs. Sullen. -As for the 'squire

Bon. 'Tis now twelve, as the saying is-Gentlemen, you must set out at one.

Gib. Hounslow, do you and Bagshot see our arms fixed, and I'll come to you presently. Houn. and Bag. We will.

[Exeunt HoUN. and BAG. Gib. Well, my dear Bonny, you assure me that Scrub is a coward?

Bon. A chicken, as the saying is-You'll have no creature to deal with but the ladies.

Gib. And I can assure you, friend, there's a great deal of address and good manners in robbing a lady: I am the most a gentleman that way that ever travelled the road.-But, my dear Bonny, this prize will be a galleon, a Vigo businessI warrant you, we shall bring off three or four thousand pounds.

Sul. What! not lie with my wife! Why, Sir, do you take me for an atheist, or a rake? Šir C. If you hate her, Sir, I think you had better lie from her.

Sul. I think so too, friend-But I am a justice of peace, and must do nothing against the law.

Sir C. Law! as I take it, Mr. Justice, nobody observes law for law's sake, only for the good of those for whom it was made.

Sul. But if the law orders me to send you to gaol, you must lie there, my friend.

Sir C. Not unless I commit a crime to deserve it.

Sul. A crime! oons, an't I married?

Sir C. Nay, Sir, if you call marriage a crime, you must disown it for a law.

Sul. Eh!-I must be acquainted with you, Sir

Bon. And what think you, then, of my daughter Cherry for a wife?

Gib. Lookye, my dear Bonny, Cherry is the goddess I adore, as the song goes; but it is a maxim, that man and wife should never have it in their power to hang one another; for, if they should, the Lord have mercy upon them both.

ACT V.

SCENE I-The Inn.

Enter BONIFACE.

[Exeunt.

Sul. Lookye, Sir, I have nothing to say to your sea of truth; but, if a good parcel of land can entitle a man to a little truth, I have as much as any he in the country.

Bon. I never heard your worship, as the saying is, talk so much before.

Sul. Because I never met with a man that I liked before.

Bon. Pray, Sir, as the saying is, let me ask you one question: Are not man and wife one flesh? Sir C. You and your wife, Mr. Guts, may be one flesh, because you are nothing else-but rational creatures have minds that must be united. Sul. Minds ?

Sir C. Ay, minds, Sir; don't you think that

Sul. In some people.

Enter SIR CHARLES FREEMAN.

Sir C. What, fellow! a public house, and bed when other people sleep!

Bon. Sir, I an't a-bed, as the saying is. Sir C. I see that, as the saying is! Is Mr. Sullen's family a-bed, think ye?

Bon. All but the 'squire himself, Sir, as the saying is: he 's in the house.

Sir C. What company has he?

Bon. Why, Sir, there's the constable-Mr. Gage, the exciseman-the hunch-backed barber. -and two or three other gentlemen.

Sir C. I find my sister's letters gave me the true picture of her spouse.

Enter SULLEN, drunk.

Bon. Sir, here's the 'squire.

Sul. The puppies left me asleep-Sir.

Sir C. Well, Sir.

Sul. Sir, I am an unfortunate man-I have three thousand pounds a-year, and I can't get a man to drink a cup of ale with me.

Sir C. That's very hard.

Sul. Ay, Sir; and unless you have pity upon me, and smoke one pipe with me, I must e'en go home to my wife, and I had rather go to the devil by one half.

Sir C. But I presume, Sir, you wont see your wife to-night, she'll be gone to-bed-you don't use to lie with your wife in that pickle.

one.

Sir C. Sir, I know that my two hands are naturally one, because they love one another, kiss one another, help one another in all the actions of life; but I could not say so much if they were always at cuffs.

Sul. Then, 'tis plain we are two.

Sir C. Why don't you part with her, Sir?
Sul. Will you take her, Sir?

Sir C. With all my heart.

Sul. You shall have her to-morrow morning, and a venison pasty into the bargain.

Sir C. You'll let me have her fortune too? Sul. Fortune! why, Sir, I have no quarrel to her fortune-I only hate the woman, Sir, and none but the woman shall go.

Sir C. But her fortune, Sir

Sul. Can you play at whist, Sir?

Sir C. No, truly, Sir.

Sul. Nor at all-fours.

Sir C. Neither.

Sul. Oons! where was this man bred? [Aside.} Burn me, Sir, I can't go home; 'tis but two o'clock.

Sir C. For half an hour, Sir, if you please— but you must consider 'tis late.

Sul. Late! that is the reason I can't go to bed -Come, Sir. [Exeunt.

Cher. I dogged them to the very door, and left them breaking in.

Aim. Have you alarmed any body else with the news.

Cher. No, no, Sir; I wanted to have discovered the whole plot, and twenty other things, to your `man, Martin; but I have searched the whole house, and can't find him; where is he?

Aim. No matter, child; will you guide me immediately to the house?

Cher. With all my heart, Sir; my Lady Bountiful is my godmother, and I love Miss Dorinda

so well

Aim. Dorinda! the name inspires me! the glory and the danger shall be all my own-Come, my -Come, my life, let me but get my sword. [Exeunt. SCENE II.—A Bed-chamber in LADY BOUN

TIFUL'S House.

MRS. SULLEN and DORINDA discovered; a table and lights.

Dor. 'Tis very late, sister; no news of your spouse yet?

Mrs. S. No; I'm condemned to be alone till towards four, and then, perhaps, I may be executed with his company.

Dor. Well, my dear, I'll leave you to your rest; you'll go directly to bed, I suppose.

Mrs. S. I don't know what to do; heigho! Dor. That's a desiring sigh, sister. Mrs. S. This is a languishing hour, sister. Dor. And might prove a critical minute, if the pretty fellow were here.

Mrs. S. Here! what, in my bed-chamber, at two o'clock i' th' morning! I undressed, the family asleep, my hated husband abroad, and my lovely fellow at my feet!—O, gad, sister!

Dor. Thoughts are free, sister, and them I allow you-So, my dear, good night. [Exit.

Arch. And I with wonder.

[Looks passionately at her. Mrs. S. What will become of me? Arch. How beautiful she looks!—the teeming, jolly spring smiles in her blooming face, and when she was conceived, her mother smelt tc roses, looked on lilies

Lilies unfold their white, their fragrant charms, When the warm sun that darts into their arms. [Runs to her. Mrs. S. Ah! [Shrieks. Arch. Oons, Madam, what do you mean? you'll raise the house.

Mrs. S. Sir, I'll wake the dead, before I'll bear this. What! approach me with the freedom of a keeper! I'm glad on 't; your impudence has cured

me.

to

Arch. If this be impudence, [Kneels.] I leave your partial self; no panting pilgrim, after a tedious, painful voyage, e'er bowed before his saint with more devotion.

I

Mrs. S. Now, now, I'm ruin'd if he kneels. [Aside.] Rise, thou prostrate engineer; not all thy undermining skill shall reach my heart. Rise, and know that I am a woman without my sex; can love to all the tenderness of wishes, sighs, and tears.-But go no farther-Still, to convince you that I'm more than woman, I can speak my frailty, confess my weakness even for youBut

Arch. For me! [Going to lay hold on her. Mrs. S. Hold, Sir; build not upon that-for my most mortal hatred follows, if you disobey what I command you now-leave me this minute. If he denies, I'm lost. [Aside.

Arch. Then you'll promise

Mrs. S. Any thing, another time.
Arch. When shall I come?

Mrs. S. To-morrow-when you will.
Arch. Your lips must seal the promise.
Mrs. S. Fshaw !

Arch. They must, they must. [Kisses her.] Raptures and paradise! and why not now, my angel? The time, the place, silence, and secresy, all conspire--And now the conscious stars have pre-ordained this moment for my happiness. [Takes her in his arms.

Mrs. S. You will not, cannot, sure. Arch. If the sun rides fast, and disappoints not mortals of to-morrow's dawn, this night shall

[Rising.

Arch. A man, a man, Madam. Mrs. S. How shall I be sure of it? Arch. Madam, I'll give you demonstration this minute. [Takes her hand. Mrs. S. What, Sir! do you intend to be rude? Arch. Yes, Madam, if you please. Mrs. S. In the name of wonder, whence came ye? Arch. From the skies, Madam-I'm a. Jupiter in love, and you shall be my Alcmena.

Mrs. S. How came you in?

Arch. I flew in at the window, Madam, your cousin Cupid lent me his wings, and your sister Venus opened the casement.

Mrs. S. I'm struck dumb with admiration.

Mrs. S. My sex's pride assist me.
Arch. My sex's strength help me.
Mrs. S. You shall kill me first.
Arch. I'll die with you. [Carrying her off.

Mrs. S. Thieves! thieves! murder!

Enter SCRUB, in his breeches, and one shoe. Scrub. Thieves! thieves! murder! popery! Arch. Ha! [Draws, and offers to stab SCRUB. Scrub. [Kneeling.] O, pray, Sir, spare all I have, and take my life.

Mrs. S. [Holding ARCHER's hand.] What does the fellow mean?

Scrub. O, Madam, down upon your knees, your marrow-bones-he 's one of them. Arch. Of whom?

Scrub. One of the rogues-I beg your pardon, one of the honest gentlemen, that just now are broke into the house.

Arch. How!

Mrs. S. I hope you did not come to rob me?

Arch. What! thieves?

Scrub. Under favour, Sir, I think so. Mrs. S. What shall we do, Sir?

Arch. How many are there of them, Scrub? Scrub. Five and forty, Sir.

Arch. Then I must kill the villain, to have him out of the way.

Gib. Hold hold! Sir; we are but three, upon my honour.

Arch. Scrub, will you undertake to secure him Scrub. Not I, Sir; kill him, kill him!

Arch. Run to Gipsey's chamber; there you'll find the doctor; bring him hither presently. [Exit SCRUB, running.] Come, rogue, if you have a short prayer, say it.

Gib. Sir, I have no prayer at all; the government has provided a chaplain to say prayers for

Mrs. S. Will you leave me?

Arch. Leave you! lord, Madam, did not you command me to be gone just now, upon the pain of your mortal hatred.

Mrs. S. Nay, but pray, Sir

[Takes hold of him. Arch. Ha, ha, ha! now comes my turn to be ravished. You see now, Madam, you must use men one way or other; but take this by the way, good Madam, that none but a fool will give you the benefit of his courage, unless you take his love along with it. How are they armed, friend? Scrub, With sword and pistol, Sir.

[He gets under the table. Arch. Hush! I see a dark lantern coming through the gallery-Madam, be assured I will protect you, or lose my life.

Mrs. S. Your life! no, Sir, they can rob me of nothing that I value half so much; therefore, now, Sir, let me entreat you to be gone.

Arch. No, Madam, I'll consult my own safety for the sake of yours; I'll work by stratagem: have you courage enough to stand the appearance of them.

Mrs. S. Yes, yes; since I have escaped your hands, I can face any thing.

Arch. Come hither, brother Scrub: don't you

know me ?

Scrub. Eh! my brother, Martin.
Arch. This way- Here-

[ARCHER and SCRUB hide. Enter GIBBET, with a dark lantern in one hand, and a pistol in the other.

Gib. Ay, ay, this is the chamber, and the lady

alone.

Mrs. S. Who are you, Sir? What would you have? D'ye come to rob me?

Gib. Rob you! Alack-a-day, Madam, I'm only a younger brother, Madam; and so, Madam, if you make a noise, I'll shoot you through the head: but don't be afraid, Madam. [Laying his lantern and pistol upon the table.] These rings, Madam; don't be concerned, Madam; I have a profound respect for you, Madam; your keys, Madam; don't be frighted, Madam; I'm the most of a gentleman-[Searching her pockets.] This necklace, Madam; I never was rude to any lady! I have a veneration-for this necklace.

[Here ARCHER, having come round and seized the pistol, takes GIBBET by the collar, trips up his heels, and claps the pistol to his breast.

Arch. Hold, profane villain, and take the reward of thy sacrilege.

Gib. Oh! pray, Sir, don't kill me; I an't prepared.

VOL. I.... 5 K

68*

Mrs. S. Pray, Sir, don't kill him; you fright me as much as him.

Arch. The dog shall die, Madam, for being the occasion of my disappointment. Sirrah, this moment is your last.

Gib. Sir, I'll give you two hundred pounds to spare my life.

Arch. Have you no more, rascal?

Gib. Yes, Sir, I can command four hundred; but I must reserve two of them to save my life at the sessions.

Enter SCRUB and FOIGARD.

Arch. Here, doctor; I suppose Scrub and you, between you, may manage him.-Lay hold of him. [FOIGARD lays hold of GIBBET. Gib. What! turned over to the priest already -Lookye, doctor, you come before your time; I an't condemned yet, I thank ye.

Foig. Come, my dear joy, I vil secure your body and your shoul too; I will make you a good catholic, and give you an absolution.

Gib. Absolution! can you procure me a pardon, doctor?

Foig. No, joy.

Gib. Then you and your absolution may go to the devil.

Arch. Convey him into the cellar, there bind him. Take the pistol, and if he offers to resist, shoot him through the head, and come back to us with all the speed you can.

fast, and I'll guard him. Scrub. Ay, ay; come, doctor, do you hold him

[Exit SCRUB, GIBBET, and FOIGARD. Mrs. S. But how came the doctor?

Sdeath! the rogues are at work with the other Arch. In short, Madam-[ Shrieking without.] must fly to their assistance-Will you stay here, ladies: I'm vexed I parted with the pistol; but I Madam, or venture yourself with me?

Mrs. S. Oh, with you, dear Sir, with you.

[Takes him by the arm, and Exeunt. SCENE III-Another Apartment. Enter HOUNSLOW, dragging in LADY BOUNTIFUL, and BACSHOT hauling in DORINDA. The Rogues with swords drawn.

Houn. Come, come, your jewels, mistress. Bag. Your keys, your keys, old gentlewoman. Enter AIMWELL. Aim. Turn this way, villains; I durst engage an army in such a cause.

[He engages them both, Enter ARCHER and MRS. SULLEN. Arch. Hold! hold! my lord; every man his bird, pray. [Fight; the rogues are disarmed.] Shall we kill the rogues?

breakers.

Arch. No matter for my adventure, yours is the principal-Press her this minute to marry you-now while she's hurried between the palpitation of her fear, and the joy of her deliverance; now while the tide of her spirits are at high flood:-throw yourself at her feet, speak some romantic nonsense or other confound her senses, bear down her reason, and away with her. The priest is now in the cellar, and dare

not refuse to do the work.

Aim. But how shall I get off without being

observed ?

Arch. You a lover, and not find a way to get off!-Let me see.

Aim You bleed, Archer.

Arch, 'Sdeath, I'm glad on't; this wound will do the business--I'll amuse the old lady and Mrs. Sullen about dressing my wound, while you carry off Dorinda.

Lady B. Gentlemen, could we understand how you would be gratified for the servicesArch. Come, come, my lady, this is no time for compliments; I'm wounded, Madam.

Lady B. & Mrs. S. How! wounded! Dor. I hope, Sir, you have received no hurt? [To AIM. Aim. None but what you may cure. [Makes love. Lady B. Let me see your arm, Sir-I must have some powder-sugar, to stop the blood-O me! an ugly gash; upon my word, Sir, you must go into bed.

Arch. Ay, my lady, a bed would do very well -Madam, [To MRS. SULLEN.] will you do me the favour to conduct me to a chamber?

Lady B. Do, do, daughter-while I get the lint, and the probe, and the plaister, ready.

[Runs out one way; AIM. carries off DoR.

another.

Arch. Come, Madam, why don't you obey your mother's commands?

Mrs. S How can you, after what is past, have the confidence to ask me ?

Arch. And if you go to that, how can you, after what is past, have the confidence to deny me?

-Was not this blood shed in your defence, and my life exposed for your protection ?-Lookye, Madam, I'm none of your romantic fools, that fight giants and monsters for nothing; my valour is downright Swiss; I am a soldier of fortune, and must be paid.

Mrs. S. 'Tis ungenerous in you, Sir, to upbraid me with your services.

Arch. 'Tis ungenerous in you, Madam, not to reward them.

Mrs. S. How! at the expense of my honour! Arch. Honour! Can honour consist with ingratitude! If you would deal like a woman of honour, do like a man of honour: d'ye think I would deny you in such a case?

Enter GIPSEY.

you, that your brother is below at the gate. Gip. Madam, my lady has ordered me to tell

Sir, he shall thank you for your services; he has Mrs. S. My brother! Heavens be praised:it in his power.

[Exit.

Arch. Who is your brother, Madam? Mrs. S. Sir Charles Freeman. You'll excuse me, Sir; I must go and receive him. Arch. Sir Charles Freeman ! 'Sdeath and hell!--my old acquaintance. Now, unless Aimwell has made good use of his time, all our fair stone. machine goes souse into the sea, like the Eddy[Exit.

SCENE IV.—A Gallery in the same House.

Enter AIMWELL and DORINDA.

Dor. Well, well, my lord, you have conquered. for my easy yielding; though I must own your -Your late generous action will, I hope, plead lordship had a friend in the fort before.

Aim. The sweets of Hybla dwell upon her Here, doctor—

tongue.

Enter FOIGARD, with a book.
Foig. Are you prepared, bote ?

Dor. I'm ready; but first, my lord, one word— I have a frightful example of a hasty marriage in my own family; when I reflect upon't, it shocks me. Pray, my lord, consider a little

Aim. Consider! do you doubt my honour or my love?

Dor. Neither. I do believe you equally just as brave-And were your whole sex drawn out for me to choose, I should not cast a look upon the multitude, if you were absent-But, my lord, I'm a woman:-colours, concealments, may hide a thousand faults in me-Therefore know me better first; I hardly dare affirm I know myself in any thing except my love.

Aim. Such goodness who could injure? I find myself unequal to the task of villain. She has gained my soul, and made it honest like her own -I cannot hurt her. [Aside.] Doctor, retire. [Exit FOIGARD.] Madam, behold your lover and your proselyte, and judge of my passion by my conversion-I'm all a lie, nor dare I give a fiction to your arms; I'm all a counterfeit, except my passion.

Dor. Forbid it, Heaven! a counterfeit !

Aim. I am no lord, but a poor needy man, come, with a mean and scandalous design, to prey upon your fortune!--but the beauties of your mind and person have so won me from myself, that, like a trusty servant, I prefer the interest of my mistress to my own.

Dor. Pray, Sir, who are you?