Isab. The Letter is the Cause; this heedless Action has undone me: Fly and fasten the Closet-window, which will give Charles notice to retire. Ha, my Father, oh! Confusion.

Sir Jeal. Hold, hold, Patch, whither are you going. I'll have no body stir out of the Room till after Supper.

Patch. Sir, I was only going to reach your easie Chair— Oh! wretched Accident!

Sir Jeal. I'll have no body stir out of the Room. I don't want my easie Chair.

Isab. What will be the event of this?

Sir Jeal. Hark ye Daughter, do you know this Hand?

Isab. As I suspected— Hand do you call it, Sir? 'Tis some School-boy's Scraul.

Patch. Oh! Invention, thou Chamber-maid's best Friend, assist me.

Sir Jeal. Are you sure you don't understand it?

Isab. Do you understand it, Sir?

Sir Jeal. I wish I did.

Isab. Thank Heaven you do not. (aside) Then I know no more of it than you do indeed, Sir.

Patch. Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what have you done, Sir? Why the Paper is mine, I drop'd it out of my Bosom.

Sir Jeal. Ha! yours, Mistress.

Isab. What does she mean by owning it.

Patch. Yes, Sir, it is.

Sir Jeal. What is it? Speak.

Patch. Why, Sir, it is a Charm for the Tooth-ach— I have worn it this seven Year, 'twas given me by an Angel for ought I know, when I was raving with the Pain; for no body knew from whence he came, nor whither he went, he charg'd me never to open it, lest some dire Vengeance befal me, and Heaven knows what will be the Event. Oh! cruel Misfortune that I should drop it, and you should open it— If you had not open'd it—

Isab. Excellent Wench.

Sir Jeal. Pox of your Charms, and Whims for me, if that be all 'tis well enough; there, there, burn it, and I warrant you no Vengeance will follow.

Patch. So, all's right again thus far.

Isab. I would not lose Patch for the World— I'll take courage a little. (aside) Is this Usage for your Daughter, Sir, must my Virtue and Conduct be suspected? For every Trifle, you immure me like some dire Offender here, and deny me all Recreations which my Sex enjoy, and the Custom of the Country and Modesty allow; yet not content with that you make my Confinement more intolerable by your Mistrusts and Jealousies; wou'd I were dead, so I were free from this.

Sir Jeal. To morrow rids you of this tiresome Load,—Don Diego Babinetto will be here, and then my Care ends and his begins.

Isab. Is he come then! Oh how shall I avoid this hated Marriage?

Sir Jeal. Come will you sit down?

Isab. I can't eat, Sir.

Patch. No, I dare swear he has given her Supper enough. I wish I cou'd get into the Closet—

Sir Jeal. Well, if you can't eat, then give me a Song whilst I do.

Isab. I have such a Cold I can scarce speak, Sir, much less sing. How shall I prevent Charles coming in.

Sir Jeal. I hope you have the Use of your Fingers, Madam. Play a Tune upon your Spinnet, whilst your Woman sings me a Song.

Patch. I'm as much out of Tune as my Lady, if he knew all.

Isab. I shall make excellent Musick.

Patch. Really, Sir, I'm so frighted about your opening this Charm, that I can't remember one Song.

Sir Jeal. Pish, hang your Charm; come, come, sing any thing.

Patch. Yes, I'm likely to sing truly (aside) humph, humph, bless me, Sir, I cannot raise my Voice, my Heart pants so.

Sir Jeal. Why, what does your Heart pant so that you can't play neither? Pray what Key are you in, ha?

Patch. Ah, wou'd the Key was turn'd of you once.

Sir Jeal. Why don't you sing, I say!

Patch. When Madam has put her Spinnet in Tune, Sir, humph, humph.—

Isab. I cannot play, Sir, whatever ails me.

Sir Jeal. Zounds sit down, and play me a Tune, or I'll break the Spinnet about your Ears.

Isab. What will become of me?

Sir Jeal. Come, Mistress.

Patch. Yes, Sir.

Sir Jeal. Hey, hey, why you are a top of the House, and you are down in the Cellar. What is the meaning of this? Is it on purpose to cross me, ha?

Patch. Pray Madam, take it a little lower, I cannot reach that Note—nor any Note I fear.

Isab. Well, begin— Oh! Patch we shall be discover'd.

Patch. I sink with the Apprehension, Madam,—humph, humph—

Char. Musick and Singing

Death! her Father there, (The Women shriek) then I must fly—

Sir Jeal. Hell and Furies, a Man in the Closet—

Patch. Ah! a Ghost, a Ghost—he must not enter the Closet—

Sir Jeal. The Devil! I'll make a Ghost of him I warrant you.

Patch. Oh hold, Sir, have a care, you'l tread upon my Lady— who waits there? Bring some Water: Oh! this comes of your opening the Charm: Oh, oh, oh, oh.

Sir Jeal. I'll Charm you, House-wife, here lies the Charm, that conjur'd this Fellow in I'm sure on't, come out you Rascal, do so: Zounds take her from the Door, or I'll spurn her from it, and break your Neck down Stairs.

Isab. Oh, oh, where am I— He's gone, I heard him leap down.

Patch. Nay, then let him enter—here, here Madam, smell to this; come give me your Hand; come nearer to the Window, the Air will do you good.

Sir Jeal. I wou'd she were in her Grave. Where are you, Sirrah, Villain, Robber of my Honour; I'll pull you out of your Nest.

Patch. You'l be mistaken, old Gentleman, the Bird is flown.

Isab. I'm glad I have 'scap'd so well. I was almost dead in earnest with the Fright.

Sir Jeal. Whoever the Dog were he has escap'd out of the Window, for the Sash is up. But tho' he is got out of my Reach, you are not: And first Mrs. Pandor, with your Charms for Tooth-ach, get out of my House, go, troop; yet hold, stay, I'll see you out of my Doors my self, but I'll secure your Charge e'er I go.

Isab. What do you mean, Sir? Was she not a Creature of your own providing?

Sir Jeal. She was of the Devil's providing for ought I know.

Patch. What have I done, Sir to merit your Displeasure?

Sir Jeal. I don't know which of you have done it; but you shall both suffer for it, till I can discover whose Guilt it is: Go get in there, I'll move you from this side of the House (Pushes Isabinda in at the other Door, and locks it; puts the Key in his Pocket.) I'll keep the Key my self: I'll try what Ghost will get into that Room. And now forsooth I'll wait on you down Stairs.

Patch. Ah, my poor Lady— Down Stairs, Sir, but I won't go out, Sir, till I have look'd up my Cloaths.

Sir Jeal. If thou wer't as naked as thou wer't born, thou should'st not stay to put on a Smock. Come along, I say, when your Mistress is marry'd you shall have your Rags, and every thing that belongs to you; but till then—

Patch. Oh! barbarous Usage for nothing.

Sir Jeal. There, go, and, come no more within sight of my Habitation, these three Days, I charge you.

Patch. Did ever any Body see such an old Monster!

Patch. Oh! Mr. Charles your Affairs and mine are in an ill Posture.

Char. I am immur'd to the Frowns of Fortune: But what has befal'n thee?

Patch. Sir Jealous, whose suspicious Nature's always on the Watch; nay, even whilst one Eye sleeps, the other keeps Sentinel: Upon sight of you, flew into such a violent Passion, that I cou'd find no Stratagem to appease him, but in spight of all Arguments, lock'd his Daughter into his own Apartment, and turn'd me out of Doors.

Char. Ha! oh, Isabinda.

Patch. And swears she shall neither see Sun nor Moon, till she is Don Diego Babinetto's Wife, who arrived last Night, and is expected with impatience.

Char. He dies, yes, by all the Wrongs of Love he shall; here will I plant my self, and thro' my Breast he shall make his Passage, if he enters.

Patch. A most heroick Resolution. There might be ways found out more to your Advantage. Policy is often preferr'd to open force.

Char. I apprehend you not.

Patch. What think you of personating this Spaniard, imposing upon the Father, and marrying your Mistress by his own Consent.

Char. Say'st thou so my Angel! Oh cou'd that be done, my Life to come wou'd be too short to recompence thee: But how can I do that, when I neither know what Ship he came in, nor from what part of Spain; who recommends him, nor how attended.

Patch. I can solve all this. He is from Madrid, his Father's Name Don Pedro Questo Portento Babinetto. Here's a Letter of his to Sir Jealous, which he drop'd one Day; you understand Spanish, and the Hand may be counterfeited: You conceive me, Sir.

Char. My better Genius, thou hast reviv'd my drooping Soul: I'll about it instantly. Come to my Lodgings, and we'll concert Matters.

Sir Geo. So, this is the Gate, and most invitingly open: If there shou'd be a Blunderbuss here now, what a dreadful Ditty wou'd my Fall make for Fools; and what a Jest for the Wits; how my Name wou'd be roar'd about Streets. Well I'll venture all.

Scentw. Hist, hist, Sir George Airy—

Sir Geo. A Female Voice, thus far I'm safe, my Dear.

Scentw. No, I'm not your Dear, but I'll conduct you to her, give me your Hand; you must go thro' many a dark Passage and dirty Step before you arrive—

Sir Geo. I know I must before I arrive at Paradise; therefore be quick my charming Guide.

Scentw. For ought you know; come, come your Hand and away.

Sir Geo. Here, here Child, you can't be half so swift as my Desires.

Miran. Well, let me reason a little with my mad self. Now don't I transgress all Rules to venture upon a Man, without the Advice of the Grave and Wise; but then a rigid knavish Guardian who wou'd have marry'd me. To whom? Even to his nauseous self, or no Body: Sir George is what I have try'd in Conversation, inquir'd into his Character, am satisfied in both. Then his Love; who wou'd have given a hundred Pound only to have seen a Woman he had not infinitely loved? So I find my liking him has furnish'd me with Arguments enough of his side; and now the only Doubt remains whether he will come or no.

Scentw. That's resolv'd, Madam, for here's the Knight.

Sir Geo. And do I once more behold that lovely Object, whose Idea fills my Mind, and forms my pleasing Dreams!

Miran. What beginning again in Heroicks!— Sir George, don't you remember how little Fruit your last Prodigal Oration produced, not one bare single Word in answer.

Sir Geo. Ha! the Voice of my Incognita— Why did you take Ten Thousand ways to captivate a Heart your Eyes alone had vanquish'd?

Miran. Prithee, no more of these Flights; for our Time's but short, and we must fall into Business: Do you think we can agree on that same terrible Bugbear, Matrimony, without heartily Repenting on both sides.

Sir Geo. It has been my wish since first my longing Eyes beheld ye.

Miran. And your happy Ears drank in the pleasing News, I had Thirty Thousand Pound.

Sir Geo. Unkind! Did I not offer you in those purchas'd Minutes to run the Risque of your Fortune, so you wou'd but secure that lovely Person to my Arms.

Miran. Well, if you have such Love and Tenderness, (since our Woing has been short) pray reserve it for our future Days, to let the World see we are Lovers after Wedlock; 'twill be a Novelty—

Sir Geo. Haste then, and let us tye the Knot, and prove the envy'd Pair—

Miran. Hold! not so fast, I have provided better than to venture on dangerous Experiments headlong— My Guardian, trusting to my dissembled Love, has given up my Fortune to my own dispose; but with this Proviso, that he to Morrow morning weds me. He is now gone to Doctors Commons for a License.

Sir Geo. Ha, a License!

Miran. But I have planted Emissaries that infallibly take him down to Epsom, under pretence that a Brother Usurer of his, is to make him his Executor; the thing on Earth he covets.

Sir Geo. 'Tis his known Character.

Miran. Now my Instruments confirm him, this Man is dying, and he sends me word he goes this Minute; it must be to Morrow e'er he can be undeceiv'd. That time is ours.

Sir Geo. Let us improve it then, and settle on our coming Years, endless, endless Happiness.

Miran. I dare not stir till I hear he's on the Road—then I and my Writings, the most material point, are soon removed.

Sir Geo. I have one Favour to ask, if it lies in your power, you wou'd be a Friend to poor Charles, tho' the Son of this tenacious Man: He is as free from all his Vices, as Nature and a good Education can make him; and what now I have vanity enough to hope will induce you, he is the Man on Earth I love.

Miran. I never was his Enemy, and only put it on as it help'd my Designs on his Father. If his Uncle's Estate ought to be in his Possession, which I shrewdly suspect, I may do him a singular piece of Service.

Sir Geo. You are all Goodness.

Scentw. Oh, Madam, my Master and Mr. Marplot are just coming into the House.

Miran. Undone, undone! if he finds you here in this Crisis, all my Plots are unravell'd.

Sir Geo. What shall I do! can't I get back into the Garden?

Scentw. Oh, no! he comes up those Stairs.

Miran. Here, here, here! can you condescend to stand behind this Chimney-Board, Sir George?

Sir Geo. Any where, any where, dear Madam, without Ceremony.

Scentw. Come, come, Sir; lie close—

Sir Fran. I cou'd not go, tho' 'tis upon Life and Death, without taking leave of dear Chargee. Besides, this Fellow buz'd in my Ears, that thou might'st be so desperate to shoot that wild Rake which haunts the Garden-Gate; and that wou'd bring us into Trouble, dear—

Miran. So, Marplot brought you back then: I am oblig'd to him for that, I'm sure—

Marpl. By her Looks she means she is not oblig'd to me. I have done some Mischief now, but what I can't imagine.

Sir Fran. Well, Chargee, I have had three Messengers to come to Epsom to my Neighbour Squeezum's who, for all his vast Riches, is departing.

Marpl. Ay, see what all you Usurers must come to.

Sir Fran. Peace, ye young Knave! Some Forty Years hence I may think on't— But, Chargee, I'll be with thee to Morrow, before those pretty Eyes are open; I will, I will, Chargee, I'll rouze you, I saith.— Here Mrs. Scentwell, lift up your Lady's Chimney-Board, that I may throw my Peel in, and not litter her Chamber.

Miran. Oh my Stars! what will become of us now?

Scentw. Oh, pray Sir, give it me; I love it above all things in Nature, indeed I do.

Sir Fran. No, no, Hussy; you have the Green Pip already, I'll have no more Apothecary's Bills.

Miran. Hold, hold, hold, dear Gardee, I have a, a, a, a, a Monkey shut up there; and if you open it before the Man comes that is to tame it, 'tis so wild 'twill break all my China, or get away, and that wou'd break my Heart; for I am fond on't to Distraction, next thee, dear Gardee.

Sir Fran. Well, well, Chargee, I wont open it; she shall have her Monkey, poor Rogue; here throw this Peel out of the Window.

Marpl. A Monkey, dear Madam, let me see it; I can tame a Monkey as well as the best of them all. Oh how I love the little Minatures of Man.

Miran. Be quiet, Mischief, and stand farther from the Chimney— You shall not see my Monkey—why sure—

Marpl. For Heaven's sake, dear Madam, let me but peep, to see if it be as pretty as my Lady Fiddle-Faddle's. Has it got a Chain?

Miran. Not yet, but I design it one shall last its Life-time: Nay, you shall not see it— Look, Gardee, how he teazes me!

Sir Fran. (Getting between him and the Chimney.) Sirrah, Sirrah, let my Chargee's Monkey alone, or Bambo shall fly about your Ears. What is there no dealing with you?

Marpl. Pugh, pox of the Monkey! here's a Rout: I wish he may Rival you.

Serv. Sir, they put two more Horses in the Coach, as you order'd, and 'tis ready at the Door.

Sir Fran. Well, I'm going to be Executor, better for thee, Jewel. B'ye Chargee, one Buss!— I'm glad thou hast got a a Monkey to divert thee a little.

Miran. Thank'e, dear Gardee.— Nay, I'll see you to the Coach.

Sir Fran. That's kind, adod.

Miran. Come along, Impertinence.

Marpl. (Stepping back.) Egad, I will see the Monkey: Now (Lifts up the Board, and discovers Sir George.) Oh Lord, Oh Lord! Thieves, Thieves, Murder!

Sir Geo. Dam'e, you unlucky Dog! 'tis I, which way shall I get out, shew me instantly, or I'll cut your Throat.

Marpl. Undone, undone! At that Door there. But hold, hold, break that China, and I'll bring you off.

Sir Fran. Mercy on me! what's the matter?

Miran. Oh, you Toad! what have you done?

Marpl. No great harm, I beg of you to forgive me: Longing to see the Monkey, I did but just raise up the Board, and it flew over my Shoulders, scratch'd all my Face, broke yon' China, and whisk'd out of the Window.

Sir Fran. Was ever such an unlucky Rogue! Sirrah, I forbid you my House. Call the Servants to get the Monkey again; I wou'd stay my self to look it, but that you know my earnest Business.

Scentw. Oh my Lady will be the best to lure it back; all them Creatures love my Lady extremely.

Miran. Go, go, dear Gardee; I hope I shall recover it.

Sir Fran. B'ye, by'e, Dear'e. Ah, Mischief, how you look now! B'ye, b'ye.

Miran. Scentwell, see him in the Coach, and bring me word.

Scentw. Yes, Madam.

Miran. So, Sir, you have done your Friend a signal piece of Service, I suppose.

Marpl. Why look you, Madam! if I have committed a fault, thank your self; no Man is more Serviceable when I am let into a Secret, nor none more Unlucky at finding it out. Who cou'd divine your Meaning, when you talk'd of a Blunderbuss, who thought of a Rendevous? and when you talk'd of a Monkey, who the Devil dreamt of Sir George?

Miran. A sign you converse but little with our Sex, when you can't reconcile Contradictions.

Scentw. He's gone, Madam, as fast as the Coach, and Six can carry him.

Sir Geo. Then I may appear.

Marpl. Dear, Sir George, make my Peace! On my Soul, I did not think of you.

Sir Geo. I dare swear thou didst not. Madam, I beg you to forgive him.

Miran. Well, Sir George, if he can be secret.

Marpl. Ods heart, Madam, I'm as secret as a Priest when I'm trusted.

Sir Geo. Why 'tis with a Priest our Business is at present.

Scentw. Madam, here's Mrs. Isabinda's Woman to wait on you.

Miran. Bring her up.

How do'e, Mrs. Patch, what News from your Lady?

Patch. That's for your private Ear, Madam. Sir George, there's a Friend of yours has an urgent Occasion for your Assistance.

Sir Geo. His Name.

Patch. Charles.

Marpl. Ha! then there is something a-foot that I know nothing of. I'll wait on you, Sir George.

Sir Geo. A third Person may not be proper perhaps; as soon as I have dispatch'd my own Affairs, I am at his Service. I'll send my Servant to tell him, I'll wait upon him in half an Hour.

Miran. How come you employ'd in this Message, Mrs. Patch?

Patch. Want of Business, Madam. I am discharg'd by my Master, but hope to serve my Lady still.

Miran. How discharg'd! you must tell me the whole Story within.

Patch. With all my Heart, Madam.

Marpl. Pish! Pox, I wish I were fairly out of the House. I find Marriage is the end of this Secret: And now I am half mad to know what Charles wants him for.

Sir Geo. Madam, I'm doubly press'd, by Love and Friendship: This Exigence admits of no delay. Shall we make Marplot of the Party?

Miran. If you'll run the Hazard, Sir George; I believe he means well.

Marpl. Nay, nay, for my part, I desire to be let into nothing: I'll begon, therefore pray don't mistrust me.

Sir Geo. So now has he a mind to be gone to Charles: but not knowing what Affairs he may have upon his Hands at present, I'm resolv'd he sha'n't stir: No, Mr. Marplot, you must not leave us, we want a third Person.

Marpl. I never had more mind to be gone in my Life.

Miran. Come along then; if we fail in the Voyage, thank your self for taking this ill starr'd Gentleman on Board.

Sir Geo.

Miran.
WELL, Patch, I have done a strange bold thing! my Fate is determin'd, and Expectation is no more. Now to avoid the Impertinence and Roguery of an old Man, I have thrown my self into the Extravagance of a young one; if he shou'd despise, slight or use me ill, there's no Remedy from a Husband, but the Grave; and that's a terrible Sanctuary to one of my Age and Constitution.

Patch. O fear not, Madam, you'll find your account in Sir George Airy; it is impossible a Man of Sense shou'd use a Woman ill, indued with Beauty, Wit and Fortune. It must be the Lady's fault, if she does not wear the unfashionable Name of Wife easie, when nothing but Complaisance and good Humour is requisite on either side to make them happy.

Miran. I long till I am out of this House, lest any Accident shou'd bring my Guardian back. Scentwell, put my best Jewels into the little Casket, slip them, into thy Pocket, and let us march off to Sir. Jealous's.

Scentw. It shall be done, Madam.

Patch. Sir George will be impatient, Madam; if their Plot succeeds, we shall be well receiv'd; if not, he will be able to protect us. Besides, I long to know how my young Lady fares.

Miran. Farewell, old Mammon, and thy detested Walls; 'twill be no more sweet Sir Francis, I shall be compell'd to the odious Task of Dissembling no longer to get my own, and coax him with the wheedling Names of my Precious, my Dear, dear Gardee. Oh Heavens!

Sir Fran. Ah, my sweet Chargee, don't be frighted. (She starts.) But thy poor Gardee has been abused, cheated, fool'd, betray'd, but no Body knows by whom.

Miran. (Aside.) Undone! past Redemption.

Sir Fran. What won't you speak to me, Chargee!

Miran. I'm so surpriz'd with Joy to see you, I know not what to say.

Sir Fran. Poor, dear Girl! But do'e know that my Son, or some such Rogue, to rob or murder me, or both, contriv'd this Journey? For upon the Road I met my Neighbour Squeezum well, and coming to Town.

Miran. Good lack, good lack! what Tricks are there in this World!

Scentw. Madam, be pleas'd to tye this Neck-lace on; for I can't get it into the—

Miran. The Wench is a Fool, I think! cou'd you not have carry'd it to be mended, without putting it in the Box?

Sir Fran. What's the matter?

Miran. Only Dear'e, I bid her, I bid her— Your ill Usage has put every thing out of my Head. But won't you go, Gardee, and find out these Fellows, and have them punish'd! and, and—

Sir Fran. Where shou'd I look them, Child? No I'll sit me down contented with my Safety, nor stir out of my own Doors, till I go with thee to a Parson.

Miran. (Aside.) If he goes into his Closet I am ruin'd. Oh! bless me in this Fright, I had forgot Mrs. Patch.

Patch. Ay, Madam, and I stay for your speedy Answer.

Miran. (Aside.) I must get him out of the House. Now assist me Fortune.

Sir Fran. Mrs. Patch, I profess I did not see you, how dost thou do, Mrs. Patch; well don't you repent leaving my Chargee?

Patch. Yes, every body must love her—but I came now— Madam, what did I come for, my Invention is at the last Ebb.

Sir Fran. Nay, never Whisper, tell me.

Miran. She came, dear Gardee to invite me to her Lady's Wedding, and you shall go with me Gardee, 'tis to be done this Moment to a Spanish Merchant; Old Sir Jealous keeps on his Humour, the first Minute he sees her, the next he marries her.

Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha, I'd go if I thought the sight of Matrimony wou'd tempt Chargee to perform her Promise: There was a smile, there was a consenting Look with those pretty Twinklers, worth a Million. Ods precious, I am happier than the Great Mogul, the Emperour of China, or all the Potentates that are not in Wars. Speak, confirm it, make me leap out of my Skin.

Miran. When one has resolv'd, 'tis in vain to stand shall I, shall I, if ever I marry, positively this is my Wedding Day.

Sir Fran. Oh! happy, happy Man— Verily I will beget a Son, the first Night shall disinherit that Dog, Charles. I have Estate enough to purchase a Barony, and be the immortalizing the whole Family of the Gripes.

Miran. Come then Gardee, give me thy Hand, let's to this House of Hymen.

Sir Fran.

Miran.

Serv. Sir, here's a couple of Gentlemen enquire for you; one of 'em calls himself Seignor Diego Babinetto.

Sir Jeal. Ha! Seignor Babinetto! Admit 'em instantly— Joyful Minute; I'll have my Daughter marry'd to Night.

Sir Jeal. Senior, beso Las Manos vuestra merced es muy bien venido en esta tierra.

Char. Senhor, soy muy humilde, y muy obligado Cryado de vuestra merced: Mi Padre Embia a vuestra merced, los mas profondos de sus respetos; y a Commissionado este Mercadel Ingles, de concluyr un negocio, que me Haze el mas dichoso hombre del mundo, Haziendo me su yerno.

Sir Jeal. I am glad on't, for I find I have lost much of my Spanish. Sir, I am your most humble Servant. Seignor Don Diego Babinetto has inform'd me that you are Commission'd by Seignor Don Pedro, &c. his worthy Father.

Sir Geo. To see an Affair of Marriage Consummated between a Daughter of yours, and Seignor Diego Babinetto his Son here. True, Sir, such a Trust is repos'd in me as that Letter will inform you. I hope 'twill pass upon him. (Aside.)

Sir Jeal. Ay, 'tis his Hand.

Sir Geo. Good —— you have counterfeited to a Nicety, Charles.

Char. If the whole Plot succeeds as well, I'm happy.

Sir Jeal. Sir I find by this, that you are a Man of Honour and Probity; I think, Sir, he calls you Meanwell.

Sir Geo. Meanwell is my Name, Sir.

Sir Jeal. A very good Name, and very Significant.

Char. Yes, Faith if he knew all.

Sir Jeal. For to Mean-well is to be honest, and to be honest is the Virtue of a Friend, and a Friend is the Delight and Support of Human Society.

Sir Geo. You shall find that I'll Discharge the part of a Friend in what I have undertaken, Sir Jealous.

Char. But little does he think to whom.

Sir Geo. Therefore, Sir, I must intreat the Presence of your fair Daughter, and the Assistance of your Chaplain; for Seignor Don Pedro strictly enjoyn'd me to see the Marriage Rites perform'd as soon as we should arrive, to avoid the Accidental Overtures of Venus.

Sir Jeal. Overtures of Venus!

Sir Geo. Ay, Sir, that is, those little Hawking Females that traverse the Park, and the Play-house to put off their damag'd Ware—they fasten upon Foreigners like Leeches, and watch their Arrival as carefully, as the Kentish Men do a Ship-wreck. I warrant you they have heard of him already.

Sir Jeal. Nay, I know this Town swarms with them.

Sir Geo. Ay, and then you know the Spaniards are naturally Amorous, but very Constant, the first Face fixes 'em, and it may be dangerous to let him ramble e'er he is tied.

Char. Well hinted.

Sir Jeal. Pat to my Purpose— Well, Sir, there is but one thing more, and they shall be married instantly.

Char. Pray Heaven, that one thing more don't spoil all.

Sir Jeal. Don Pedro writ me Word in his last but one, that he design'd the Sum of Five Thousand Crowns by way of Joynture for my Daughter; and that it shou'd be paid into my Hand upon the Day of Marriage.

Char. Oh! the Devil.

Sir Jeal. In order to lodge it in some of our Funds, in case she should become a Widow, and return for England.

Sir Geo. Pox on't, this is an unlucky Turn. What shall I say?

Sir Jeal. And he does not mention one Word of it in this Letter.

Char. I don't know how he should.