- For once, I'll

expect you in the Chaplain's Chamber, add my Plot too, -let us hafte to find out, and inform my Nephew; and do you, quickly as you can, bring all the Company into this Gallery. I'll expofe the Strumpet, and the Villain.

Ld. Froth. By Heav'ns I have flept an Age-Sir Paul, what a Clock is't? Paft Eight, on my Confcience, my Lady's is the most inviting Couch; and a Slumber there, is the prettieft Amufement! But where's all the Company?

Sir Paul. The Company, Gads-bud, I don't know, my Lord, but here's the ftrangest Revolution, all turn'd topfy turyy; as I hope for Providence.

Ld. Froth. O Heav'ns, what's the matter? Where's my Wife?

Sir Paul. All turn'd topfy turvy as fure as a Gun.
Ld. Froth. How do you mean? My Wife!

Sir Paul. The ftrangest Pofture of Affairs!

Ld. Froth. What, my Wife?

Sir Paul. No, no, I mean the Family,

-Your Lady's

Affairs may be in a very good Pofture; I faw her go into the Garden with Mr. Brisk.

Ld. Froth. How? where, when, what to do?

Sir Paul. I fuppofe they have been laying their Heads together.

Ld. Froth. How?

Sir Paul. Nay, only about Poetry, I fuppofe, my Lord; making Couplets.

Ld. Froth. Couplets.

Sir Paul. O, here they come.

[To them] Lady Froth, Brisk.

Brisk. My Lord, your humble Servant; Sir Paul yours

the finest Night!

L. Froth,

L. Froth. My Dear, Mr. Brisk and I have been Stargazing, I don't know how long.

Sir Paul. Does it not tire your Lady fhip? are not you weary with looking up?

L. Froth. Oh, no, I love it violently,

you're melancholy.

My Dear,

Ld. Froth. No, my Dear; I'm but juft awake.
L. Froth. Snuff fome of my Spirit of Hartshorn.

Ld. Froth. I've fome of my own, thank you, my Dear.

L. Froth, Well, I fwear, Mr. Brisk, you understood Aftronomy like an old Egyptian.

Brisk. Not comparably to your Lady fhip; you are the very Cynthia of the Skies, and Queen of Stars.

L. Froth. That's because I have no Light, but what's by Reflexion from you, who are the Sun.

Brisk. Madam, you have Eclips'd me quite, let me perish, I can't answer that.

Hark'ee, fhall you and I

L. Froth. No matter, make an Almanack together. Brisk. With all my Soul, Your Lady fhip has made me the Man in't already, I'm fo full of the Wounds which you have given.

L. Froth. O finely taken! fwear now you are even with me, O Parnaffus, you have an infinite deal of Wit. Sir Paul. So he has, Gads-bud, and fo has your Lady fhip.

SCENE XXII.

[To them] Lady Plyant, Careless, Cynthia.

L. P. You tell me moft furprizing things; blefs me, who would ever truft a Man? O my Heart akes for fear they should be ail deceitful alike.

Care. You need not fear, Madam, you have Charms to fix Inconftancy it felf.

L. P. O dear, you make me blush.

Ld. Froth, Come, my Dear, fhall we take leave of my Lord and Lady?¿

Cynt. They'll wait upon your Lordship prefently.

L. Froth.

L. Froth. Mr. Brisk, my Coach fhall fet you down.
All. What's the matter?

[A great Shriek from the Corner of the Stage.

SCEN E XXIII.

To them] Lady Touchwood runs out affrighted, my Lord after her, like a Parfon.

L.T. O I'm betray'd.

Save me, help me.

Ld. T. Now what Evafion, Strumpet?
L. T. Stand off, let me go.

You

I don't wonder at it,

Ld. T. Go, and thy own Infamy purfue thee, ftare as you were all amazed,

but too soon you'll know mine, and that Woman's

Shame.

SCENE, The Laft.

Lord Touchwood, Lord Froth, Lady Froth, Lady Plyant Sir Paul, Cynthia, Mellefont, Maskwell; Mellefont dif guifed in a Parfon's Habit and pulling in Maskwell.

Mel. Nay, by Heav'n you fhall be feen.

your Hand;

Careless,

Do you hold down your Head? Yes I am your Chaplain, look in the Face of your injur'd Friend; thou Wonder of all Falfhood.

Ld. T. Are you filent, Monfter?

Mel. Good Heav'ns! How I believ'd and lov'd this Man! Take him hence, for he's a Difeafe to my Sight.

Ld. T. Secure that manifold Villain.

Care. Miracle of Ingratitude?

[Servants feize him.

Brisk. This is all very furprizing, let me perish. L. Froth. You know I told you Saturn look'd a little more angry than usual.

Ld. T. We'll think of Punishment at Leifure, but let me haften to do Juftice, in rewarding Virtue and wrong'd Innocence. Nephew, I hope I have your Pardon, and

Cynthia's.

Mel. We are your Lordship's Creatures.

I

Ld. T.

Ld. T. And be each others Comfort; Let me join your Hands. Unwearied Nights, and wishing Days attend you both; mutual Love, lafting Health, and cireling Joys, tread round each happy Year of your long Lives.

Let fecret Villany from hence be warn'd;
Howe'er in private Mischiefs are conceiv'd,
Torture and Shame attend their open Birth;
Like Vipers in the Womb, bafe Treachery lies,
Still gnawing that, whence firft it did arife;
No fooner born, but the Vile Parent dies,

[Exeunt Omnes

ΕΡΙ

EPILOGUE,

Co

Spoken by Mrs. Monntford.

QU'D Poets but foresee how Plays would take,
Then they dou'd tell what Epilogues to make;
Whether to thank or blame their Audience most:
But that late Knowledge does much Hazard cost,
'Till Dice are thrown, there's nothing won, nor lost.
So 'till the Thief has stol'n, he cannot know
Whether he shall escape the Law, or no.
But Poets run much greater Hazards far,
Than they who ftand their Trials at the Bar;
The Law provides a Curb for its own Fury,
And fuffers Judges to direct the Jury.
But in this Court, what Diff'rence does appear!
For every one's both Judge and Fury here;
Nay, and what's worse, an Executioner.
All have a Right and Title to fome Part,
Each choofing that in which he has moft Art.
The dreadful Men of Learning all Confound,
Unless the Fable's good, and Moral found.
The Vizor-Masks, that are in Pit and Gallery,
Approve, or Damn the Repartee and Rallery.
The Lady Criticks, who are better read,
Inquire if Characters are nicely bred;

If the foft things are penn'd and spoke with Grace:
They Judge of Action too, and Time, and Place;

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