go find out my Niece, and have an Eye over her. (Exit Pru.

Well, Sir, I am forry you fhou'd make your felf fo great a Stranger to me. In fuch Cafes I am not ungrateful. And where Love is real, there's a double Obligation.

Love. Ha! What does fhe mean by Love and double Obligations?

(Afide. Widow. I fee indeed you seem to be in fome Diforder, that I should know it; but had you let me known it fooner, I fhou'd perhaps have fav'd you a great many Sighs and Heart-Akings, which your Bathful

nefs has caus'd.

Love. Sure the's mad! [Afide.] Madam

Widow. And yet 'tis never too late to ferve a Friend, and one that loves fo dearly: Nor am I yet fo far engag'd, but I can pity, nay make Return, when Love is fincere, and fo conftant.

Love. Madam, you much amaze me!

Nor can I ghefs what you drive at !

Widow. Ah, dear Sir! I know you are unwilling to let me know it: But fhall I be fincere in asking you one Question?

Love. Moft freely; fo it be not any thing that leads me farther into the dark.

Widow. Do you not love me, Sir?

Love. Love you, Madam! Why truly I hate no body.

Widow. Well, but love me fo, that it much disturbs you, and that you fear I am engag'd to another. Love. The Devil take me if I ever lov'd you, or can think what you wou'd be at.

Widow. Nay, I was told you would deny it, But pray, Sir, tell me truly; for indeed, Sir, I am forry you should fuffer for my Sake. And fhould you do otherwife than well, I vow it would be a Means of giving me difquiet as long as I live.

Loue. Pray, Madam, who told you this?

Widow. Your Friend Mr. Cuningham, who is much concern'd for you, Sir. And fince you find it is dif cover'd, you need not be asham'd to own the Truth.

Enters Prudence, and liftens.

Love. Faith, Madam, to deal freely with you, yov're abus'd; for hang me if ever I had a thought that way, nor do I love you, or ever can.

Widow. You're pleas'd to be merry, Sir; but I muft tell you, I have obferv'd it in your Looks; and fince it is fo, own it boldly to the World, and I promise you, I'll not be afham'd, nor difown mine. Come, come, Mr. Lovemore, you must not deny me that, for fince I dare own it, why fhould you think it ftill amifs?

me.

Love. Well! Since all muft out, prepare to hear

Mr. Cuningham has begun, and I must make an End. You must know, Madam, Mr. Cuningham loves you to that degree himself, that he's afham'd, knowing how near a-kin he is to you, to let you know it, and fo has form'd this Story upon me, the better to make for him.

Widow. Mr. Cuningham a-kin to me, Sir!

Love. Ay, Madam, your Nephew, your Brother's Son, whom he had in Paris by Madam D'Olone, but for fome Reafon he fince has chang'd his Name.

Widow. Truly, Sir, you furprize me much! My Brother in Paris I heard had a Son, but what became of him I know not.

Love. Madam, this Cuningham, my Friend, has the Misfortune (Misfortune I think it, and he thinks fo too, because he loves fo dearly) to be related to

you.

Widow. I'm forry, if he does love fo well, that he fhou'd be fo near a-kin.

Pru. Madam, Mr. Cuningham is just come in. Love, I'll leave you, Madam, for I have a little Business that I must dispatch- Befides, 'twou'd not be convenient for me to interrupt what Difputes you two may have.:

Widow. Sir, your Servant.

(As he goes out, meets Cuningham ent'ring. Love. Had you no body to put your Tricks on, but

me ?

But I think I have been even with you. (Exit Love. Cun. What can he mean?

Widow. Mr. Cuningham, you do not deal like a Friend by me; you might have trufted me with a Secret of greater weight.

Cun. I do not understand you, Madam!

What has he been saying to her?

(Afide.

Widow. You knew one Mrs. D'Olone, I fuppofe?
Cun. What shall I fay now?

(Afide.

Pru. Was your Brother then Mrs. D'Olone's Husband, Madam, and Mr. Cuningham's Father ? Widow. Who bid you speak? Yes he was. What then?

Cun. Oh, I begin to fmoke it. (Afide. Pru. Nothing, Madam, but then Mr. Cuningham is your Nephew.

Widow. Indeed, I wish he were not; but fince it is fo, we must be fatisfied with our Fate, Mr. Cuningham Tho' you are much to blame, Sir, you did not let me know it fooner before Matters went fo far.

Cun. Madam, I confefs my Fault, and do ask your Ladyship's Forgiveness.

Enter

Enter Philadelphia.

Widow. Well, Mr. Cuningham, fince you are my Nephew, we may venture to embrace without a Blush. (She embraces him. Phil. Is Mr. Cuningam your Nephew, Madam? Widow. Yes, Miftrefs Pert, what then?

Phil. Then he's my Coufin, and I may embrace him (Runs and embraces each other. Cun. Ay, my dear, dear Coufin.

too.

Widow. Why how now faucy, impertinent Slut. How dare you take this Liberty?

Phil. Why, is there any Harm in embracing one's own Coufin?

Widow. Get you in, Huffy, and dare not to come but when I call you.

Pru. He's none of your Coufin, Madam.

(Afide to Phil. as she goes out. Phil. I know it. I met Mr. Lovemore laughing by the way, who told me all. Adieu, my dear Coufin

Cun. My charming Coufin, farewel.

(Exit.

Widow. I'll fwear, Mr. Cuningham, you'll spoil that Girl. Methinks you embrac'd her fomething of the hardest. (Seems difturb'd.

I call her Girl, and yet fhe's near five and twentyBut as I was going to tell you, Sir, You must know, this Brother was not indeed my own Brother, but fomething a kin afar off: He was my firft Husband's first Wife's Brother, and no kin to me. But because my Husband us'd to call him Brother, I would fometimes do fo too; and by this Means was thought, by thofe that knew no other, to be my Brother.

Pru. Then he is not fo near a-kin, but he may marry your Ladyship?

Сип,

(Sighs.

Cun. Oh!

Widow. Why, truly, Mr. Cuningham

Enter Jeffrey in bafte.

Feff. Sir, your Lawyer bid me tell you, your Caufe is jult now coming on; and if you do not appear, you'll be non-fuited.

Widow. Dear Sir, do not neglect your Bufinefs, nor let your being a-kin trouble you.

When next I fee you.

Cun. Oh, Madam! Wou'd I had never feen you, then I'd been happy; but where the Tye of Blood bars our Hopes, there's nothing but Defpair in view. Madam, farewel.

Find fome way to excufe me, you Dog, or I'll cut your Throat. (To Jeffrey as he goes out.

Feff. What fhall I say? (Afide. My Mafter has begun a Lie, and I muft end it. Widow. Come hither, Jeffrey. Dost think thy Mafter loves me fo well as he fays?

Feff. Faith, Madam, I believe he loves your Ladyfhip but too well! But Mr. Lovemore dies, unless you take pity on him.

Widow. Doft think he loves me better, than thy Master?

Feff. Oh, Madam! They ought not to be nam'd together. Mr. Lovemore, poor Gentleman, is perfectly befide himself about it.

Widow. Didft ever hear 'em talk about me?

Feff. A thousand times. Mr. Lovemore can talk of nothing else.

Widow. 'Tis ftrange he fhould deny it to me. Jeff. You must know, Madam, my Master was in Love elfe-where.

Widow. How Jeffrey.

Feff.