SCENE I.-A room in FORESIGHT's house.

Enter FORESIGHT and Servant.

Fore. HEY-DAY! What! are all the women of my family abroad? Is not my wife come home? nor my sister? nor my daughter?

Ser. No, sir.

Fore. Mercy on us! what can be the meaning of it? Sure the moon is in all her fortitudes! Is my niece Angelica at home?

Ser. Yes, sir.

Fore. I believe you lie, sir.
Ser. Sir?

Fore. I say, you lie, sir. It is impossible that any thing should be as I would have it; for I was born, sir, when the crab was ascending; and all my affairs go backward.

Ser. I can't tell, indeed, sir.

Fore. No, I know you can't, sir. But I can tell, and foretell, sir.

Enter NURSE.

Nurse, where's your young mistress?

Nurse. Wee'st heart! I know not; they're none of them come home yet. Poor child, I warrant she's fond of seeing the town!-Marry, pray Heaven they have given her any dinner! Good lack-a-day, ha, ha, ha! O strange! I'll vow and swear now, ha, ha, ha! marry, and did you ever see the like?

Fore. Why, how now, what's the matter? Nurse. Pray Heaven send your worship good luck! marry, and amen, with all my heart! for you have put on one stocking with the wrong side outward.

Fore. Ha, how? Faith and troth, I'm glad of it; and so I have; that may be good luck in troth; in troth it may, very good luck: nay, I have had some omens. I got out of bed backwards, too, this morning, without premeditation; pretty good that, too. But then, I stumbled coming down stairs, and met a weasel; bad omens those! Some bad, some good: our lives are chequered; nirth and sorrow, want and plenty, night and day, make up our time. But, in troth, I am pleased at my stocking-very well pleased at my stocking-Oh, here's my niece!-Sirrah, go, tell sir Sampson Legend I'll wait on him, if he's at leisure. 'Tis now three o'clock; a very good hour for business: Mercury governs this hour. [Exit Servant.

Enter ANGELICA.

Ang. Is it not a good hour for pleasure, too, uncle? Pray, lend me your coach; mine's out of order.

mily. I remember an old prophecy, written by Messahalah the Arabian, and thus translated by a reverend Buckinghamshire bard:

"When housewives all the house forsake,
'And leave good-men to brew and bake;
"Withouten guile, then be it said,
'That house doth stand upon its head;
And when the head is set in ground,
'No mar'l, if it be fruitful found,'

Fruitful! the head fruitful! that bodes horns; the fruit of the head is horns. Dear niece, stay at home-for, by the head of the house, is meant the husband; the prophecy needs no explanation.

Ang. Well, but I can neither make you a cuckold, uncle, by going abroad; nor secure you from being one, by staying at home.

Fore. Yes, yes; while there's one woman left, the prophecy is not in full force.

Ang. But my inclinations are in force. I have a mind to go abroad: and, if you won't lend me your coach, I'll take a hackney, or a chair, and leave you to erect a scheme, and find who's in conjunction with your wife. Why don't you keep her at home, if you're jealous of her, when she's abroad? You know my aunt is a little retrograde (as you call it) in her nature. Uncle, I'm afraid you are not lord of the ascendant! ha, ha, ha!

Fore. Well, jill-flirt, you are very pert--and always ridiculing that celestial science.

Ang. Nay, uncle, don't be angry.—If you are, I'll reap up all your false prophecies, ridiculous dreams, and idle divinations. I'll swear, you are a nuisance to the neighbourhood.---What a bustle did you keep against the last invisible eclipse, laying in provision, as it were for a siege! What a world of fire and candle, matches and tinderboxes, did you purchase! One would have thought we were ever after to live under ground; or at least make a voyage to Greenland, to inhabit there all the dark season.

Fore. Why, you malapert slut!

Ang. Will you lend me your coach? or I'll go on.-Nay, I'll declare how you prophesied popery was coming, only because the butler had mislaid some of the apostle spoons, and thought they were lost. Away went religion and spoon-meat together!-Indeed, uncle, I'll indite you for a wizard.

Fore. How, hussy! was there ever such a provoking minx?

Nurse. O merciful father, how she talks! Ang. Yes, I can make oath of your unlawful midnight practices; you, and the old nurse there.

VOL. II.

20

but warm your bed, and tuck you up, and set the candle and your tobacco-box, and now and then rub the soles of your feet?-O Lord, I !--

Ang. Yes, I saw you together, through the keyhole of the closet, one night, like Saul and the witch of Endor, turning the sieve and sheers, and pricking your thumbs, to write poor innocent servants' names in blood, about a little nutmeggrater, which she had forgot in the caudle-cup.-Nay, I know something worse, if I would speak of it!

Fore. I defy you, hussy; but I'll remember this. I'll be revenged on you, cockatrice; I'll hamper you--You have your fortune in your own hands but I'll find a way to make your lover, your prodigal spendthrift gallant, Valentine, pay for all, I will.

Ang. Will you? I care not; but all shall out then.

Fore. I will have patience, since it is the will of the stars I should be thus tormented-this is the effect of the malicious conjunctions and oppositions in the third house of my nativity; there the curse of kindred was foretold.---But I will have my doors locked up--I'll punish you; not a man shall enter my house.

Ang. Do, uncle, lock them up quickly, before my aunt comes home--you'll have a letter for alimony to-morrow morning !---But let me be gone first; and then let no mankind come near the house but converse with spirits and the celestial signs, the bull, and the ram, and the goat. Bless me, there are a great many horned beasts among the twelve signs, uncle! But cuckolds go to Heaven!

Fore. But there's but one virgin among the twelve signs, spit-fire !---but one virgin!

Ang. Nor there had not been that one, if she had had to do with any thing but astrologers, uncle! That makes my aunt go abroad.

Fore. How! how! is that the reason? Come, you know something; tell me, and I'll forgive you; do, good niece.-Come, you shall have my coach and horses--faith and troth, you shall.-Does my wife complain! Come, I know women tell one another.---She is young and sanguine, has a wanton hazel eye, and was born under Gemini, which may incline her to society; she has a mole upon her lip, with a moist palm.

Ang. Ha, ha, ha!

Fore. Do you laugh?-Well, gentlewoman, I'll -But come, be a good girl, don't perplex your poor uncle! Tell me-won't you speak? Odd, I'll

Enter Servant.

Ser. Sir Sampson is coming down, to wait upon you, sir. [Exit Servant. Ang. Good by'e, uncle. Call me a chair. I'li find out my aunt, and tell her she must not come home. [Exit ANGELICA. Fore. I am so perplexed and vexed, I am not

Fore. Odso, let me see; let me see the paper. Ay, faith and troth, here it is, if it will but hold ---I wish things were done, and the conveyance made. When was this signed? what hour? Odso, you should have consulted me for the time. Well, but we'll make haste.

Sir Sam. Haste! ay, ay, haste enough; my son Ben will be in town to-night--I have ordered my lawyer to draw up writings of settlement and jointure-all shall be done to-night. No matter for the time; prithee, brother Foresight, leave superstition. Pox o' the time; there's no time but the time present; there's no more to be said of what's past; and all that is to come will happen. If the sun shine by day, and the stars by night---why, we shall know one another's faces without the help of a candle; and that's all the stars are good for.

Fore. How, how, sir Sampon? that all! Give me leave to contradict you, and tell you, you are ignorant.

Sir Sam. I tell you, I am wise: and sapiens dominabitur astris; there's Latin for you to prove it, and an argument to confound your ephemeris. Ignorant!--I tell you, I have travelled, old Fercu; and know the globe. I have seen the antipodes, where the sun rises at mid-night, and sets at noonday.

Fore. But I tell you, I have travelled, and travelled in the celestial spheres; know the signs and the planets, and their houses; can judge of motions direct and retrograde, of sextiles, quadrates, trines and oppositions, fiery trigons, and aquatical trigons; know whether life shall be ong or short, happy or unhappy; whether diseases are curable or incurable; if journies shall

be prosperous, undertakings successful, or goods stolen recovered: I know--

Sir Sam. I know the length of the emperor of China's foot; have kissed the Great Mogul's slipper; and rid a hunting upon an elephant with the cham of Tartary. Body o' me, I have made a cuckold of a king; and the present majesty of Bantam is the issue of these loins.

Fore. I know when travellers lie or speak truth, when they don't know it themselves.

Sir Sam. I have known an astrologer made a cuckold in the twinkling of a star; and seen a conjuror, that could not keep the devil out of his wife's circle.

Fore. What, does he twit me with my wife, too? I must be better informed of this. [Aside.] Do you mean my wife, sir Sampson? Though you made a cuckold of the king of Bantam, yet, by the body of the sun

Sir Sam. By the horns of the moon, you would say, brother Capricorn.

Fore. Capricorn in your teeth, thou modern Mandeville! Ferdinand Mendez Pinto was but a type of thee, thou liar of the first magnitude! Take back your paper of inheritance; send your son to sea again. I'll wed my daughter to an Egyptian mummy, ere she shall incorporate with a contemner of sciences, and a defamer of virtue. Sir Sam. Body o' me, I have gone too far-I must not provoke honest Albumazar.—An Egyptian mummy is an illustrious creature, my trusty hieroglyphic; and may have significations of futurity about him. Odsbud, I would my son were an Egyptian mummy for thy sake. What, thou art not angry for a jest, my good Haly?-I reverence the sun, moon, and stars, with all my heart. What! I'll make thee a present of a mummy. Now, I think on't, body o' me, I have a shoulder of an Egyptian king, that I purloined from one of the pyramids, powdered with hieroglyphics; thou shalt have it brought home to thy house, and make an entertainment for all the Philomaths, and students in physic and astrology,

in and about London.

Fore. But what do you know of my wife, sir Sampson?

Sir Sam. Thy wife is a constellation of virtues; she is the moon, and thou art the man in the moon; nay, she is more illustrious than the moon; for she has her chastity, without her incontinency: 'shud, I was but in jest.

Enter JEREMY.

Sir Sam. How now? who sent for you, ha? what would you have?

Fore. Nay, if you were but in jest!-Who's that fellow? I don't like his physiognomy. Sir Sam. [To JEREMY.] My son, sir? what son, sir? my son Benjamin, ha!

Jer. No, sir; Mr Valentine, my master;-it is the first time he has been abroad, since his confinement, and he comes to pay his duty to

you.

Sir Sam. Well, sir.

Enter VALENTINE.

Jer. He is here, sir.
Val. Your blessing, sir!

Sir Sam. You've had it already, sir; I think I sent it you to-day in a bill of four thousand pounds. A great deal of money, brother Foresight!

Fore. Ay, indeed, sir Sampson, a great deal of money for a young man; I wonder what he can do with it!

Sir Sam. Body o' me, so do I. Hark ye, Valentine, if there be too much, refund the superfluity; dost hear, boy?

Val. Superfluity, sir! it will scarce pay my debts. I hope you will have more indulgence, than to oblige me to those hard conditions, which my necessity signed to.

Sir Sam. Sir! how! I beseech you, what were you pleased to intimate, concerning indulgence? Val. Why, sir, that you would not go to the extremity of the conditions, but release me at least from some part.

Sir Sam. O, sir, I understand you—that's all,

ha?

Val. Yes, sir, all that I presume to ask-But what you, out of fatherly fondness, will be pleased to add, will be doubly welcome.

Sir Sam. No doubt of it, sweet sir; but your filial piety and my fatherly fondness would fit like two tallies-Here's a rogue, brother Fore sight, makes a bargain under hand and seal in the morning, and would be released from it in the afternoon: here's a rogue, dog; here's conscience and honesty! This is your wit now, this is the morality of your wit! You are a wit, and have been a beau, and may be a—Why, sirrah, is it not here under hand and seal?Can you deny it?

Val. Sir, I don't deny it.

Sir Sam. Sirrah, you'll be hanged; I shall live to see you go up Holborn-hill---Has he not a rogue's face?- Speak, brother; you understand physiognomy; a hanging look to me--of all my boys the most unlike me. He has a damned Tyburn face, without the benefit of the clergy.

Fore. Hum!-truly, I don't care to discourage a young man-he has a violent death in his face; but I hope no danger of hanging.

Val. Sir, is this usage for your son ?---For that old weather-headed fool, I know how to laugh at him; but you, sir

Sir Sam. You, sir! and you, sir!--Why, who are you, sir?

Val. Your son, sir.

Sir Sam. That's more than I know, sir: and I believe not.

Val. Faith, I hope not.

Sir Sam. What! would you have your mother a whore? Did you ever hear the like? did you ever hear the like? body o'me-

Val. I would have an excuse for your barbarity and unnatural usage.

Sir Sam. Excuse?-Impudence! Why, sirrah, mayn't I do what I please? are not you my slave? did not I beget you? and might not I have chosen whether I would have begot you or no? Oons, who are you? whence came you? what brought you into the world? how came you here, sir? here, to stand here, upon those two legs, and look erect with that audacious face, hah? Answer me that. Did you come volunteer into the world? or did I, with the lawful authority of a parent, press you to the

service?

a

Val. I know no more why I came, than you do why you called me. But here I am; and if don't mean to provide for me, I desire you would leave me as you found me.

you

Sir Sam. With all my heart. Come, uncase, strip, and go naked out of the world as you came into it.

Val. My clothes are soon put off-but you must also divest me of my reason, thought, passions, inclinations, affections, appetites, senses, and the huge train of attendants, that you begot along with me.

Sir Sam. Body o'me, what a many-headed monster have I propagated!

Val. I am, of myself, a plain, easy, simple creature, and to be kept at small expence: but the retinue, that you gave me, are crav-| ing and invincible; they are so many devils, that you have raised, and will have employ

Jer. Yes, I have a reasonable good ear, sir, as to jiggs, and country dances, and the like; I don't much matter your solos or sonatas; they give me the spleen.

Sir Sam. The spleen? ha, ha, ha! a pox confound you!-Solos or sonatas? Oons, whose son are you? how were you engendered, muckworm? Jer. I am, by my father, the son of a chairman; my mother sold oysters in winter, and cucumbers in summer: and I came up stairs into the world; for I was born in a cellar.

Fore. By your looks you shall go up stairs out of the world too, friend.

Sir Sam. And if this rogue were anatomized now, and dissected, he has his vessels of digestion and concoction, and so forth, large enough for the inside of a cardinal; this son of a cucumber!-These things are unaccountable and unreasonable.-Body o'ne, why was I not a bear, that my cubs might have lived upon sucking their paws? Nature has been provident only to bears and spiders: the one has its nutriment in its own hands; and the other spins its habitation out of its own entrails.

Val. Fortune was provident enough to supply all the necessities of my nature, if I had my right inheritance.

ment.

out all these followers?Why, nothing under an emperor should be born with appetites-why, at this rate, a fellow, that has but a groat in his pocket, may have a stomach capable of a ten shilling ordinary.

Jer. Nay, that's as clear as the sun; I'll make oath of it before any justice in Middle

sex.

Sir Sam. Here's a cormorant, too!- -'Sheart, this fellow was not born with you?—I did not beget him, did I?

Jer. By the provision that's made for me, you might have begot me, too.-Nay, and to tell your worship another truth, I believe you did; for I find I was born with those same whoreson appetites, too, that my master speaks of.

Sir Sam. Why, look you there now!—I'll maintain it, that by the rule of right reason, this fellow ought to have been born without a palate.-'Sheart, what should he do with a distinguishing taste?—I warrant now, he'd rather cat a pheasant, than a piece of poor John-and smell, now; why I warrant he can smell, and loves perfumes above a stink-why there's it; and music-don't you love music, scoundrel?

of this life, if we can't have the happiness of con- | versing where we like?

Mrs Fore. But can't you converse at home? I own it, I think there's no happines like conversing with an agreeable man; I don't quarrel at that, nor I don't think but your conversation was very innocent. But the place is public; and to be seen with a man in a hackney-coach, is scandalous. What if any body else should have seen you alight, as I did? How can any body be happy, while they are in perpetual fear of being seen and censured? Besides, it would not only reflect upon you, sister, but on me.

Mrs Frail. Pooh, here's a clutter! Why should it reflect upon you? I don't doubt but you have thought yourself happy in a hackney-coach before now! If I had gone to Knightsbridge, or to Chelsea, or to Spring-garden, or to Barn-elins, with a man alone-something might have been said.

Mrs Fore. Why, was I ever in any of those places? What do you mean, sister?

Mrs Frail. Was I? What do you mean? Mrs Fore. You have been at a worse place. Mrs Frail. I at a worse place, and with a man?

Mrs Fore. I suppose you would not go alone to the World's-end.

Mrs Frail. The World's-end! What, do you mean to banter me?

Mrs Fore. Poor innocent! you don't know that there is a place called the World's-end? I'll swear, you can keep your countenance purely; you'd make an admirable player!

Mrs Frail. I'll swear you have a great deal of confidence, and, in my mind, too much for the

Mrs Fore. You deny it positively to my face? Mrs Frail. Your face! what's your face? Mrs Fore. No matter for that; it's as good a face as yours.

Mrs Frail. Not by a dozen years wearing. But I do deny it positively to your face, then.

Mrs Fore. I'll allow you now to find fault with my face; for I'll swear your impudence has put me out of countenance. But look you here now, -where did you lose this gold bodkin? Oh, sister, sister!

Mrs Frail. My bodkin!

Mrs Fore. Nay, 'tis yours; look at it.

Mrs Frail. Well, if you go that, where did you find this bodkin?-Oh, sister, sister! sister every way!

Mrs Fore. O, devil on't! that I could not discover, without betraying myself! [Aside. Mrs Frail. I have heard gentlemen say, sister, that one should take great care, when one makes a thrust in fencing, not to lay open one's self.

Mrs Fore. It is very true, sister. Well, since all's out, and, as you say, since we are both

|

wounded, let us do, what is often done in duels, take care of one another, and grow better friends than before.

Mrs Frail. With all my heart. Well, give me your hand, in token of sisterly secrecy and affec

tion.

Mrs Fore. Here it is, with all my heart.

Mrs Frail. Well, as an earnest of friendship and confidence, I'll acquaint you with a design that I have. I'm afraid the world have observed us more than we have observed one another. You have a rich husband, and are provided or: I am at a loss, and have no great stock either of fortune or reputation, and therefore must look sharply about me. Sir Sampson has a son, that is expected to-night; and, by the account I have heard of his education, can be no conjurer. The estate, you know, is to be made over to him. Now, if I could wheedle him, sister, ha? you understand me?

Mrs Fore. I do; and will help you, to the utmost of my power. And I can tell you one thing that falls out luckily enough; my awkward daughter-in-law, who, you know, is designed to be his wife, is grown fond of Mr Tattle; now, if we can improve that, and make her have an aversion for the booby, it may go a great way towards his liking you. Here they come together; and let us contrive some way or other to leave them together.

Enter TATTLE and MISS PRUE.

Miss Prue. Mother, mother, mother! look you here?

Mrs Fore. Fie, fie, miss, how you bawl! Besides, I have told you, you must not call me mother.

Miss Prue. What must I call you, then? are you not my father's wife?

Mrs Fore. Madam; you must say madam. By my soul, I shall fancy myself old indeed, to have this great girl call me mother. Well, but, miss, what are you so overjoyed at?

Miss Prue. Look you here, madam, then, what Mr Tattle has given me. Look you here, cousin; here's a snuff-box; nay, there's snuff in't-here, will you have any? Oh good! how sweet it is! Mr Tattle is all over sweet; his peruke is sweet, and his gloves are sweet, and his handkerchief is sweet, pure sweet, sweeter than roses-smell him, mother-madan, I mean. He gave me this ring, for a kiss.

Tutt. O fie, miss! you must not kiss, and tell, Miss Prue. Yes; I may tell my mother-and he says he'll give me something to make me smell so. Oh, pray, lend me your handkerchief, Smell, cousin; he says, he'll give me something, that will make my smocks smell this way. Is not it pure? It's better than lavender, mun. I'm resolved I won't let nurse put any more lavender among my smocks--ha, cousin?