Sir S. What, would you have your mother play me false? 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 S. Excuse?-Impudence! Why, sirrah, mayn't I do what I please? 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, hab? Answer me that. Did you come a volunteer into the world? or did I, with the lawful authority of a parent, press you into the service?

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

Sir S. 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 S. 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 expense: but the retinue that you gave me are craving and invincible; they are so many devils that you have raised, and will have employment.

Sir S. Oons, what had I to do to get children?can't a private man be born without 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 Middlesex.

Sir S. 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 S. 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 eat a pheasant, than a piece of poor Johnand I warrant he loves perfumes-why there's it; and music-don't you love music, scoundrel?

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

Sir S. The spleen! ha, ha, ha! a pox confound you! -Solo's or sonata's! Oons, whose son are you? how were you engender'd, 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 S. And if this rogue were anatomised 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'me, why was not I 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.

Sir S. Again! Oons, han't you four thousand pounds? -If I had it again, I would not give thee a groat.What, wouldst thou have me turn pelican and feed thee out of my own vitals-Odsheart, live by your wits

-you were always fond of the wits.-Now let's see if you have wit enough to keep yourself. Your brother will be in town to-night, or to-morrow morning; and then look you perform covenants; and so your friend and servant.-Come, brother Foresight.

[Exit with Foresight. Jer. I told you what your visit would come to. Val. "Tis as much as I expected-I did not come to see him: I came to see Angelica; but since she was gone abroad, it was easily turned another way, and at least looked well on my side. What's here? Mrs. Foresight and Mrs. Frail! They are earnest-I'll avoid them.Come this way, and go and inquire when Angelica will return. [Exeunt.

Enter MRS. FORESIGHT and MRS. FRAIL. Mrs. Frail. What have you to do to watch me? 'Slife, I'll do what I please.

Mrs. Fore. You will?

Mrs. Frail. Yes, marry, will I.-A great piece of business to go to Covent-garden, to take a turn in a hackney-coach with one's friend!

Mrs. Fore. Nay, two or three turns, I'll take my oath. Mrs. Frail. Well, what if I took twenty?-I warrant if you had been there, it had been only innocent recreation!-Lord, where's the comfort of this life, if we can't have the happiness of conversing where we like?

Mrs. Fore. But can't you converse at home?-I own it, I think there's no happiness 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 hackneycoach is scandalous. What if any body else should have seen you alight, as I did? it would not only reflect upon you, sister, but me!

Mrs. Frail. Pooh, here's a clutter!-Why should it reflect upon you?-If I had gone to Knightsbridge, or to Chelsea, or Barn-elms, with a man alone-something might have been said.

C

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 confide, and in my mind too much for the stage.

Mrs. Fore. Very well, that will appear who has most. You never were at the World's-end?

Mrs. Frail. No.

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 us 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 to that, where did you find this bodkin?-Oh, sister, sister!-sister every way! Mrs. Fore. O, devil on't! that I could not discover her, 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 affection. 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 for: 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 tom.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; and let us contrive some way or other to leave them together.

Enter TATTLE and MISS Prue.

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

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

Miss P. 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