Jeff. If your Ladyfhip will have Patience to hear me out, you fhall know the whole Story. Widow. With all my Heart, Jeffrey.

Jeff. Why, you must know, Madam, my Mafter had the Misfortune to quarrel with a Gentleman, who urg'd him to fight; my Mafter kill'd him: Úpon which he was forc'd to change his Habit and his Name From Cuningham to Boutefeu. But thinking it not fafe to stay here, fled; and in his Journey happen'd into a Vifcount's Caftle, but the Viscount was gone a Journey. However, this Viscount had a very beautiful Sifter, that had the Command in her Brother's Abfence; the entertain'd my Mafter very fplendidly: At laft he fell in love with her, and the with him.

Widow. Methinks fhe was very forward, Jeffrey. Jeff. She was fo indeed, Madam; for before my Mafter left her, the prov'd with Child.

Widow. How! with Child, and not married, Fef frey!

Feff. My Mafter had promis'd her Marriage, Madam.

Widow. Oh, the impudent Creature! And thy Mafter was to blame, not to keep his Word, Jeffrey.

Jeff. Not at all, Madam, when you have heard all. You must know, my. Mafter grew jealous of one of the Servants, as indeed he had Reafon : And one Day pretended to ride out, and he fhou'd not return that Night, but left me to let him in, when the Servants were all a bed, which I did. Going up to this Lady's Bed Chamber, and not being expected that Night, found the Servant in Bed with her.

Widow. Unheard of Impudence!

At first I was going to condemn thy Mafter, for deceiving a young Creature; but 'tis likely he was not the first, that had to do with her.

Feff.

Jeff. Very likely fo, Madam. Next Day my Ma fter was for packing up his Awls, and for going; The cry'd, and urg'd his stay, and his Vows to marry her.

Widow. He had been more to blame to have done that.

Jeff. In the mean time the Viscount return'd, found his Sifter in Tears, wou'd know the Reafon, was told all. He fwore, if ever he could get hold of him, he'd hang him at his Caftle Gate, but my Mafter was got off fafe. What it will come to, if they Thould ever meet, I know not, but fear the Event... Pru, A well invented Lye the Rogue has told. (Afide What was this Vifcount's Name?

Feff. The Viscount Sans-Terre, I think he was call'd.

Pru. The Viscount, Sans-Terre!
Widow. Why, he's in this Houfe.

Jeff What, in this very Houfe?

Pru. In this very House in the next Room, Jeff. Ah, my poor Master! he's but a dead Man, if he's found; for he'll certainly be hang'd. Pru. Here he comes. Hold your Peace!

Enter Viscount.

Widow. My Lord, your Servant. I have a Question to ask of you.

Feff. What fhall I do to make him understand ?

Humour her in all the fays, my Lord.

(Afide

Vifc, Ask what thou wilt, I'll deny thee nothing.
Widow. You had a Sifter.

Vifc. I had fo. Go on.

Widow. And he was unfortunately wrong'd bý bafe Fellow.

Vife. What muft I fay next

E

ه گانه

Rru

Pru. 'Twas not well done to debauch her, and then to leave her; but Woe be to him, if your Lordship catch him.

Vifc. If ever I do find the Son of a Whore, I'll hang him at my Caftle Gate.

Widow. He was very much to blame indeed ; but yet, all things confider'd, he was not in all the Blame neither, counting what a Trick the play'd him. He had reafon to queftion, whether the Child was his,

or not,

Vife. I'm quite at a Lofs. Oh! tell me what I muft fay next? (Faints into Jeffrey's Arms, who inftruds him. Jeff. Take it in your Ear, my Lord. (Afide.

Widow. Help, Prudence, my Lord faints. Pru. Pray, Madam, don't come too near, but give him Air. (Prudence and Jeffrey tell him what to say. Widow. Oh! he recovers.

Vifc. Give me a little Air. I beg your Pardon, I never hear my Sifter's Wrongs mention'd, but it puts me in Disorder, but if ever I do light upon the Villain, Woe be to him.

Widow. I'll try to get his Pardon. (Afide My Lord, methinks her Crime being the greatest, you might pardon him.

Vifc. What! Pardon him, that has deflower'd my Sifter, got her with Child of a Baftard, and ftain'd the Honour of our great Family! No, tho' all the World should plead for him, I'll not forgive it; he dies.

Widow. Good, my Lord, for my Sake.

Vifc. 'Tis all in vain, Lady, I'm told he's now in this Houfe, and bas chang'd his Name. But if I find him-(Draws. Widow. Oh hold, my Lord, I muft fave him. (Afide. My Lord, I have but one Requeft more.

Vife. Twill be in vain: I'll have Revenge.

Pru

Pru. Tell him you'll marry him, Madam, and try what that will do. (Afide to the Widow. Widow. Give me this Gentleman's Life, and I am content to be your Wife; otherwife

Vifc. 'Tis a hard Requeft; but to fhew how much I love you, upon that Condition I grant it.

(Puts up his Sword. Widow. Or, if you think fit, you shall have my Niece Philadelphia, and with her I'll give you ten thoufand Pounds.

Vifc. Do you think my Love fo poor, that 'twill be brib'd? Nay, then I recal my Promife. He dies this Hour. (Draws and fearches about. Pru. Oh, pray my Lord, forbear; my Lady did it but to try you ! See, you fright her.

Widow. Well, my Lord, fince it must be fo, my Chaplain is within, I'm contented he fhou'd make us one, make good but your Promise.

Vifc. I confirm it here.

(Kisses ber. Pru. My Lord, the Dancers are ready to begin,

and all the Company ftay for you.

Vifc. Let 'em enter, and begin when they please.

Enter Sir Peter Pride, Lady Pride, Lovemore, Mrs. Brittle, Cuningham and Philadelphia.

Love. Well, Madam, I rely upon your Promife.

(To Mrs. Brittle.

Vifc. Come, Gentlemen and Ladies, pray fit.

(They Sit.

After the Dance, Enter Barnaby Brittle, who runs af ter his Wife, they get between, he gets hold of her, and carries her off after Speaking.

Britt. Here's fine Doings! But I'll fpoil your Sport. What! my Houfe is become a Mufic-houfe, is it? But, Gentlewoman, I have fomething to fay to you

within:

Omnes. How now! What's the Meaning of this? Britt. I fay, my Wife

Omn. What of your

Wife?

Britt. Shall keep me Company, if you pleafe.
Omn. You Company!

Cun. What's the matter with the Fellow? ha!
Britt. Come along, I fay. What's here to do!
Is not a Man's Wife his Wife?
what he will with her?

And may he not do (Carries her off. Sir Peter. He's at his old Tricks again.

Widow. Come, let's in, and endeavour to appease him, and then end our Mirth with a Banquet. Cun. We attend your Ladyship.

Widow. Pray, my Lord, do me the favour to lead · my Sifter in.

Come, Gentlemen.

Vifc. Hold there, I will not part with you; I have two Hands, Madam, and can lead you both. (Exeunt Omnes.

ACT