Cun. Ha! Oh, the charming Sound!
And will you not confent to make me happy?
Or do you not believe I love you?

By all thofe Fires that burn within my Soul, I fwear

Pru. Hold! Hold, Sir! You have fworn enough already to corrupt a whole Nunnery of Sighing, Praying and Wishing young Votaries. Why don't you give him your Hand, fince he has your Heart. I be lieve you love to hear him fwear and Give him your Hand, or, I'll difcover all.

Phil. Well, there 'tis then ;

(Gives her Hand to Cuningham. But I promise nothing else. I fear I have given too much already.

Cun. Oh, never! never! I'll pay thee back fo vaft a ftore of Love and Conftancy, as fhall weary thee with still receiving.

Pru. Madam, Madam, your Aunt's behind you.

Enter Widow.

Phil. Ha! My Aunt ! What fhall I do?

Cun. Fear nothing, Madam, but give me your Hand..

I'll bring all off. (Pretends to tell her Fortune. This Line feems to Point out fome unexpected Cross: And this Line thwarting the Line of Life, fignifies a retir'd Life; and this joining with it, fhews you'll be in Danger of ending the latter part of your Days in a Nunnery. (Widow behind them. Widow. How, Mr. Cuningham! Can you tell For

tunes ?

Cun. I understand a little Palmiftry, Madam, and can give a Ghefs at Phyfiognomy,

Widow. 'Tis very well.

When I enter'd firft, I thought you had been making

Love to my Neice: I am glad to find it otherwife. But where's the Viscount?

Pru. In the next Room, Madam.

Love. I'll wait upon him: I'd feign try whether his Infide be anfwerable to his outward Appearance. (Is going.

Cun. Nay, prithee ftay; I can affure you, he is not to be equall'd either in Perfon or Difcourfe. Pru. He is indeed a fine proper Man, as one would wish to fee.

Widow. Why, really his Lordship has Parts. Phil. You and Prudence go find him out, and bear him Company awhile, I'll wait on him immediately, tell him. You, Sir, may go with 'em, if you please. (To Lovemore.

Love. Madam, most willingly.
Cun. "Sdeath! You won't leave me?

(Afide to Lovemore.

Love. Faith, but I will; doft think I'll stay to endure a fecond Hell? For if there be one upon Earth, 'tis being left alone with her.

Madam, Your Ladyship shall ever command me. (To the Widow. Come, Lady, if you please, the Honour of your fair Hand. (To Phil.

(Exit with Phil. and Pru.

Cun. What will become of me now? (Afide. Widow. Well, Mr. Cuningham, I have long'd for fome time to be alone with you, that I might speak more freely to you.

Cun. Madam, 'tis too great an Honour.

Widow. I wonder,. Sir, you never think of Marrying?

Cun. Madam, as yet I dare not think on't..
Widow. Oh, dear Sir! Pray, why fo?.

Cun. Because I have not well confider'd it; and I have been told, 'tis a dangerous Undertaking, without having well thought before-hand.

Widow.

Widow. Pray, Sir, why fhould you think fo? I'll vow 'tis an odd Thought, Sir, for one of your Understanding: Why, Sir, I'll tell you.

I have had Three Husbands, and yet I have no great Reason to complain: Tho' in my laft Husband's time, I had not altogether that real Satisfaction, as I had with the other Two; for to deal freely with you, Sir, my Husband Sir Oliver Laycock, though he was a very well-bred Man, yet he had his Humours fometimes, and would be a little given to Jealoufy, fo that Í feldom led a quiet Hour when the Fit was upon him. But in my firft Husband's Days, fure never Woman liv'd fo happy! I would not a-been unmarried to have had all the Riches of the Earth laid at my Feet: But when I married with Sir Oliver, and had once feen his Temper, nothing I had in the World but what I would a given to a been free again; and indeed in my Paffion I often vow'd never (if please Heav'n Sir Oliver died) to marry any more. Cun. 'Twas rafhly done.

But no doubt, were there that Man fitting to merit your Favour, and equally deferving your Perfon and your Eftate, and one whom your Ladyfhip could like, you might perhaps be perfuaded to break your Vow, and venture once again.

Widow. I'll fwear I hardly think it, and yet one don't know how one may be tempted; tho' if I were to be perfuaded, (and I will not forfwear any thing) I know not any one, that can fo foon perfuade me to it as you, Mr. Cuningham.

Cun. Death and the Devil! What have I brought upon my felf!

Oh Madam! You make me blush.

(Afide.

off

But Madam! How cou'd you with Honour put the Viscount, who you know loves you, and is come on purpose to marry you?

Wid. Why, I intend him for my Niece you must know, who no doubt will be much better pleas'd with the Change. For, to fay Truth, Mr. Cuningham, I have always had more, than a common Efteem for you, and for your Behaviour; and have long fince refolv'd, that if I do alter my Condition, you are the Man alone I have plac'd my Thoughts upon.

Cun. You make me blufh, Madam.

Wou'd I were a League under-ground, or in any Hell but this.

You cannot fure.

Wid. I vow 'tis true, and yet

Cun. Hear me but speak, Madam?

(Afide. (To her.

Wid. 'Tis odd, that Love fhou'd over-power People at fo strange a rate.

Cun. But I fhould be unjust to my Friend, who I know loves you dearer, than his Life.

it.

Wid. Oh dear! Who's that I beseech you, Sir?
Cun. Mr. Lovemore, Madam.

Widow. Mr. Lovemore! I'll fwear I don't believe

Cun. Oh Madam! 'tis but too true, as will appear I'm afraid, when he knows you place your Affections on any other Man.

Widow. I'll vow you much furprize me, Mr. Cuningham; but how came you to know it?

Cun. Oft has he begg'd me to bear him Company in fome lonely Place, where he wou'd figh, and tell fuch things of his diftreffed Paffion, as wou'd have mov'd the most obdurate Heart; and when I ask'd him, why he did not acquaint your Ladyship with his Love, he would figh, with Arms a-crofs, as if his Heart would force its way through his Breaft, and cry, Oh that's my Grief, my Friend, I cannotdare not tell her! for fhould I attempt it once, and meet her fcorn, (for oh! thou know'ft her Vow) I fhou'd be for ever loft.

Then

Then ran o'er a thousand Tales of Love, fo foft, fo moving, and how he priz'd you, that cannot be exprefs'd by any, except one, who loves like him. Widow. Truly, Sir, if it be fo

Cun. If it be fo! were your Ladyship to obferve his diftracted Throes, you'd pity him.

Widow. But why fhould he not declare it to me? Cun. That's what I tell him, Madam; Urging that your Ladyfhip

have we here?

But mum! who

Euter Viscount, Philadelphia and Prudence.

Vifc. Ha! Whifpering! And fo close! I like it not.

Widow. The Viscount! this is unlucky.

He looks disturb'd! Good Sir, fome other time we'll end this Difcourfe. (to Cuningham.

Vifc. Ha! What are you, Sir? that thus dares to encroach upon my Territories, and invade my Right? Widow. Nay, pray my Lord, be not difpleas'd. This Gentleman, you must know, has a Law fuit depending, and is come to entreat a Line of Commendation from me to my Lawyer.

Vifc. Enough, I do believe all you can fay. Ah! thofe Eyes of yours! What Looks are there! they enflame my very Soul.

Widow. Ah, Prudence, how I long to be alone with him.

Vift. I am impatient of this Delay, when shall we

be married?

Widow. Pray moderate your Paffion, Sir.

Vifc. What, you are afraid of that melancholy Gentleman, that ftands fo filently there.

Widow. Speak foftly, I am afraid he hears you, Sir.

Vifc. What care I if he does.

4

Enter