servant.

Mur. Your servant, sir.

Sir Jeat. I suppose you would speak with Signior Babinetto.

Mar. Sir!

Sir Jeal. I say, I suppose you would speak with Signior Babinetto.

Mar. Hey-day! what the devil does he say now?-Sir, I don't understand you.

Sir Jeal Don't you understand Spanish, sir? Mr. Not I indeed, sir.

Sir Jeal. I thought you had known Signior Babinetto.

Mar. Not I, upon my word, sir.

Sir Jeal. What then, you'd speak with his friend, the English merchant, Mr Meanwell? Mar. Neither, sir, not I; I don't mean any such thing.

Sir Jeal. Why, who are you then, sir? and what do you want? [In an angry tone. Mar. Nay, nothing at all, not I, sir. Pox on him! I wish I were out; he begins to exalt his voice; I shall be beaten again.

Sir Jeal Nothing at all, sir! Why, then, what business have you in my house? ha!

Serv. You said you wanted a gentleman in a Spanish habit.

Mar. Why, ay, but his name is neither Babinetto nor Meanwell.

Sir Jeal. What is his name, then, sirrah? Ha! now I look at you again, I believe you are the rogue that threatened me with half-a-dozen myrmidons

Mar. Me, sir! I never saw your face in all my life before.

Su Jeal. Speak, sir, who is it you look for?

or, or

Mar. A terrible old dog!- -Why, sir, only an honest young fellow of my acquaintance-I thought that here might be a ball, and that he might have been here in a masquerade. 'Tis Charles, Sir Francis Gripe's son, because I knew he us'd to come hither sometimes.

Sir Jeal. Did he so?—not that I know of, I'm sure. Pray Heav'n that this be Don Diego

If I should be trick'd now-Ha? my heart misgives me plaguily—Within there! stop the marriage-Run, sirrah, call all my servants! I'll be satisfied that this is Signior Pedro's son ere he has my daughter.

Mar. Ha! Sir George! what have I done now?

Enter Sir GEORGE, with a drawn sword, between

the scenes.

Sir Geo. Ha! Marplot here-oh, the unlucky dog-What's the matter, Sir Jealous? Sir Jeal. Nay, I don't know the matter, Mr Meanwell.

Mur. Upon my soul, Sir George[Going up to Sir GEORGE. Sir Jeal. Nay, then, I'm betray'd, ruin'd, undone. Thieves, traitors, rogues! [Offers to go in.] Stop the marriage, I say

Sir Geo. I say go on, Mr Tackum.-Nay, no

Enter Servant.

Sir Jeal. A pox on the act and deed!-Fall on, knock him down.

Sir Geo. Ay, come on, scoundrels! I'll prick your jackets for you.

Sir Jeal. Zounds! sirrah, I'll be reveng❜d on you. [Beats MARPLOT. Sir Geo. Ay, there your vengeance is due. Ha, ha! Mar. Why, what do you beat me for? I ha'n't married your daughter.

Sir Jeal. Rascals! why don't you knock him down?

Serv. We are afraid of his sword, sir; if you'll take that from him, we'll knock him down presently. Enter CHARLES and ISABINDA.

Sir Jeal. Seize her then.

Cha. Rascals! retire; she's my wife; touch her if you dare; I'll make dog's meat of you. Mar. Ay, I'll make dog's meat of you, rascal. Sir Jeal. Ah! downright English-Oh, oh, oh, oh!

Enter Sir FRANCIS GRIPE, MIRANDA, PATCH, SCENTWELL, and WHISPER.

Sir Fran. Into the house of joy we enter without knocking-Ha! I think 'tis the house of sorrow, Sir Jealous.

Sir Jeal. Oh, Sir Francis, are you come? What! was this your contrivance, to abuse, trick, and chouse me out of my child.

Sir Fran. My contrivance! what do you mean? Sir Jeal. No, you don't know your son there in a Spanish habit!

Sir Fran. How! my son in a Spanish habit ! Sirrah, you'll come to be hang'd. Get out of my sight, ye dog! get out of my sight.

Sir Jeal. Get out of your sight, sir! get out with your bags. Let's see what you'll give him now to maintain my daughter.

Sir Fran. Give him! he shall never be the better for a penny of mine-and you might have look'd after your daughter better, Sir Jealous. Trick'd, quoth-a! 'Egad, I think you design'd to trick me but look ye, gentlemen, I believe 1 shall trick you both. This lady is my wife, do you see, and my estate shall descend only to the heirs of her body.

:

Sir Geo. Lawfully begotten by me--I shall be extremely obliged to you, Sir Francis.

Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha, ha! poor Sir George! you see your project was of no use: does not your hundred pounds stick in your stomach! ha, ha, ha !

Sir Geo. No, faith, Sir Francis, this lady has given me a cordial for that.

[Takes her by the hand. Sir Fran. Hold, sir, you have nothing to say to this lady.

Sir Geo. Nor you nothing to do with my wife, sir. Sir Fran. Wife, sir!

Mir. Ay, really, guardian, 'tis even so. I hope you'll forgive my first offence.

Sir Fran. What, have you chous'd me out of my consent and your writings then, mistress, ha? Mr. Out of nothing but my own, guardian. Sr Jeal. Ha, ha, ha! 'tis some comfort at least to see you are over-reach'd as well as myself. Will you settle your estate upon your son now? Sir Fran. He shall starve first.

Mir. That I have taken care to prevent. There, si, are the writings of your uncle's estate, which have been your due these three years.

[Gives CHARLES papers. Cha. I shall study to deserve this favour. Mar. Now, how the devil could she get those writings, and I know nothing of it!

Sir Fran. What, have you robb'd me too, mistress! 'egad, I'll make you restore 'em-hussy, I

will so.

Sir Jeal. Take care I don't make you pay the arrears, sir. 'Tis well 'tis no worse, since 'tis no better. Come, young man, seeing thou hast outwitted me, take her, and bless you both! Cha. I hope, sir, you'll bestow your blessing too; 'tis all I ask.

Mar. Do, Gardy, do.

Sir Fran. Confound you all!
Mar. Mercy upon us, how he looks!

[Kneels.

[Exit.

Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ha! ne'er mind his curses, Charles; thou'lt thrive not one jot the worse for 'em. Since this gentleman is reconcil'd, we are all made happy.

Sir Jeal. I always lov'd precaution, and took care to avoid dangers; but when a thing was past, I ever had philosophy to be easy.

Cha. Which is the true sign of a great soul. I lov'd

your daughter, and she me, and you shall have no reason to repent her choice.

Isub. You will not blame me, sir, for loving my own country best.

Mar. So here's every body happy, I find, but poor Pilgarlick. I wonder what satisfaction I shall

have for being cuff'd, kick'd, and beaten in your service!

Sir Jeal. I have been a little too familiar with you as things are fallen out; but since there's no help for't, you must forgive me.

Mur. 'Egad, I think so-but provided that you be not so familiar for the future.

Sir Geo. Thou hast been an unlucky rogue.
Mar. But very honest.

Cha. That I'il vouch for, and freely forgive thee.

Sir Geo. And I'll do you one piece of service more, Marplot; I'll take care that Sir Francis make you master of your estate.

Mar. That will make me as happy as any of

you.

Patch. Your humble servant begs leave to remind you, madam.

Isab. Sir, I hope you'll give me leave to take Patch into favour again.

Sir Jeal. Nay, let your husband look to that ; I have done with my care.

Cha. Her own liberty shall always oblige me. Here's nobody but honest Whisper and Mrs Scentwell to be provided for now. It shall be left to their choice to marry or keep their services.

Whisp. Nay, then, I'll stick to m master. Scent. Coxcomb! and I prefer my lady before a footman.

Sir Jeal. Hark, I hear the music; the fiddlers smell a wedding. What say you, young fellows, will you have a dance?

Sir Geo. With all my heart; call 'em in. [A dance. Sir Jeal. Now let us in and refresh ourselves with a cheerful glass, in which we'll bury all animosities: and

By my example let all parents move,
And never strive to cross their children's love;
But still submit that care to Providence above.
[Exeunt omnes.

The young, so busy to engage a heart,
The mischief done are busy most to part;
Ungrateful wretches! who still cross one's will,
When they more kindly might be busy still:
One to a husband who ne'er dream'd of horns
Shews how dear spouse with friend his brows
adorns :

Th' officious tell-tale fool (he should repent it) Parts three kind souls that liv'd at peace contented!

Some with law quirks set houses by the ears; With physic one what he would heal impairs; Like that dark mop'd-up fry, that neighb'ring

curse,

Who to remove love's pains bestow a worse.
Since then this meddling tribe infest the age,
Bear one a while expos'd upon the stage;
Let none but Busy Bodies vent their spite,
And with good humour pleasure crown the night.

BY

OCR author fears the critics of the stage,
Who, like barbarians, spare nor sex nor age;
She trembles at those censors in the pit,
Who think good nature shews a want of wit.
Such malice, Oh! what Muse can undergo it?
To save themselves they always damn the poet.
Our author flies from such a partial jury,
As wary lovers from the nymphs of Drury:
To the few candid judges for a smile
She humbly sues to recompence her toil;
To the bright circle of the fair she next
Commits her cause, with anxious doubts perplex'd.
Where can she with such hopes of favour kneel
As to those judges who her frailties feel?
A few mistakes her sex may well excuse,
And such a plea no woman should refuse:

If she succeeds, a woman gains applause;
What female but must favour such a cause?
Her faults-whate'er they are-e'en pass 'em by,
And only on her beauties fix your eyc.
In plays, like vessels floating on the sea,
There's none so wise to know their destiny:
In this, howe'er, the pilot's skill appears,
While by the stars his constant course he steers:
Rightly our author does her judgment shew,
That for her safety she relies on you.
Your approbation, fair ones! cann't but move
Those stubborn hearts which first you taught to

love.

The men must all applaud this play of ours, For who dare see with other eyes than yours?

SCENE I-A Street.

Enter DON LOPEZ meeting FREDERICK. Fred. My lord, Don Lopez. Lop. How d'ye, Frederick?

Fred. At your lordship's service. I am glad to see you look so well, my lord. I hope Antonio's out of danger?

Lop. Quite contrary; his fever increases they tell me; and the surgeons are of opinion his wound is mortal.

Fred. Your son, Don Felix, is safe I hope. Lop. I hope so too; but they offer large rewards to apprehend him.

Fred. When heard your lordship from him? Lop. Not since he went: I forbade him writing till the public news gave him an account of Antonio's health. Letters might be intercepted, and the place of his abode discovered.

Fred. Your caution was good, my lord. Tho' I am impatient to hear from Felix, yet his safety is my chief concern. Fortune has maliciously struck a bar between us in the affairs of life, but she has done me the honour to unite our souls.

Lop. I am not ignorant of the friendship between my son and you: I have heard him commend your morals, and lament your want of noble birth.

Fred. That's nature's fault, my lord. It is some comfort not to owe one's misfortunes to one's self; yet it is impossible not to regret the want of noble birth.

Lop. 'Tis a pity indeed such excellent parts as you are master of, should be eclipsed by mean extraction.

Fred. Such commendation would make me vain, my lord; did you not cast in the allay of my extraction.

Lop. There's no condition of life without its cares, and it is the perfection of a man to wear 'em as easy as he can: this unfortunate duel of my son's does not pass without impression; but since it is past prevention, all my concern is now how he may escape the punishment. If Antonio dies, Felix shall for England. You have been there; what sort of people are the English?

Fred. My lord, the English are by nature what the ancient Romans were by discipline, courageous, bold, hardy, and in love with liberty. Liberty is the idol of the English, under whose banner all the nation lists: give but the word for liberty, and straight more armed legions would appear than France and Philip keep in constant pay.

Lop. I like their principles: who does not wish for freedom in all degrees of life? though

common prudence sometimes makes us act against it, as I am now obliged to do; for I intend to marry my daughter to Don Guzman, whom I expect from Holland every day, whither he went to take possession of a large estate left him by his uncle.

Fred. You will not surely sacrifice the lovely Isabella to age, avarice, and a fool! pardon the expression, my lord, but my concern for your beauteous daughter transports me beyond that good manners which I ought to pay your lordship's pre

sence.

Lop. I cann't deny the justness of the character, Frederick; but you are not insensible what I have suffered by these wars; and he has two things which render him very agreeable to me for a son-in-law, he is rich and well born: as for his being a fool, I don't conceive how that can be any blot in a husband, who is already possessed of a good estate.-A poor fool indeed is a very scandalous thing, and so are your poor wits, in my opinion, who have nothing to be vain of but the inside of their sculls. Now for Don Guzman, I know I can rule him as I think fit. This is acting the politic part, Frederick, without which it is impossible to keep up the port of this life.

Fred. But have you no consideration for your daughter's welfare, my lord?

Lop. Is a husband of twenty thousand crowns a year no consideration? Now I think it a very good consideration.

Fred. One way, my lord. But what will the world say of such a match?

Lop. Sir, I value not the world a button. Fred. I cannot think your daughter can have any inclination for such a husband.

Lop. There, I believe, you are pretty much in the right, though it is a secret which I never had the curiosity to enquire into, nor I believe ever shall.-Inclination, quoth-a! Parents would have a fine time on't if they consulted their children's inclinations! I'll venture you a wager, that in all the garrison towns in Spain and Portugal during the late war, there was not three women who have not had an inclination for every officer in the whole army; does it therefore follow that their fathers ought to pimp for them? No, no, sir, it is not a father's business to follow his children's inclinations till he makes himself a beggar.

Fred. But this is of another nature, my lord. Lop. Look ye, sir, I resolve she shall marry Don Guzman the moment he arrives. Though I could not govern my son, I will my daughter, I assure you.