ACT V.

Enter Cuningham, Philadelphia and Jeffrey.

Jeff. Fear nothing; by what, I could learn, by this

time the old Lady is gone to her Chamber,

or near being a-bed.

Cun. Then we may have Time to talk more freely. Pbil. All is not fo fafe as you imagine. I fear another Storm before we yet can land. I know not by what means, but the Viscount is discover'd to be a Counterfeit, which I have all along fufpected; but whether 'tis come to the Knowledge of my Aunt yet; I know not.

Cun, Therefore let's lofe no time, but tye that Knot, which joins our Hearts and Hands for ever: That once over, we have no farther need of the Vif count.

Enter Lovemore, and the Viscount enrag'd, with Lights before 'em.

Vifc. Never perfuade me; I'll not stay to be fool'd at this rate any longer. Go lead, Sirrah.

(Exit with Links.

Cun. What's the Matter now? Love. Matter! Why there's Matter enough in hand. We are all undone; the Match is broke off again, and you are like to lose your Miftrefs. The Widow will not confent you fhall marry her Niece; upon which, the Viscount enrag'd, (as indeed he has Caufe) is refolv'd to ftay no longer.

What 'twill come to, I know not.

Cun. This is most unlucky. What's to be thought on next?

Love. I left Prudence reasoning the Cafe with her; what will be the Conclufion, is moft uncertain, Oh here fhe comes.

Enter Prudence.

Pru. Oh, Madam! the faddeft News!
Phil. Why? What's the Matter?

Pru. All the Bufinefs is over. Poor Mr. Cuningham

Phil. Ha! What of him? Speak.

Pru. After a thoufand Arguments, which Lus'd to perfuade her, fhe has at laft refolv'dIpeak it.

Phil. On what? Prithee out with it.

I can't

Pru. Why, to marry the Vifcount her felf, and give you and your ten thousand Pounds to Mr. Cuningham.

Cun. Oh the blefs'd News! What fay you now, Madam ?

Phil. I'll fwear I was in a Fright at first.

But art thon fure fhe'll hold in this Mind?

Love. For fear of the worft, get all things ready, and let it be done this Moment.

Pru. Here he comes. Seem concern'd to part with her, Sir, and try how the ftands refolv❜d.

Enter Widow.

Cun. And muft I then lofe her, Prudence! Oh, the racking Thought! Hard! Hard! Decree of. Fate! To part with all I hold moft dear! I cannot (Walks about. Widow. Yes, Mr. Cuningham, our Stars will have

bear it.

it fo.

Tis hard indeed to part: But fince there is no way left to fave your Life, (which more than all the World I prize) but this only, I have at laft refolv❜d (tho' much against my Will) to give my self to the. Vifcount.

Cun. Oh! do not name it, Madam, the very Thought is worfe, than Death.

Widow. I'm forry we are fo near a kin, but that's not the chief Reafon; your Vow to marry another, and yet when I confider fhe was falfe, and had to do with more, than one, and that the Child might as well not be yours, I think you were in the right to part: So I am content (fince my Hopes are loft) that you thou'd marry with my Niece. But believe me, you do not know how much I'm troubled, to fee an other take what I fo much defir'd. But we must endeavour to be fatisfied.

Cun. Never! Never! for fince I lofe you, farewel to Love and Joy: The reft of Life I'll wafte in Sor

TOW.

Enter Clodpole, whispers Lovemore.

Clod. Softly! Damaris bad me tell you, that her Mistress stays for you at the Garden Door. Love. Oh, very well. I'll go this Moment, Pru. But what will you do to recal the Viscount, Madam, who left the House in Anger, nor told any one what his Defigns were?

Love, I heard him bid the Link-boy lead to the Devil Tavern. If you please, thither we'll go, and conclude upon the Matter. A Glafs or two of Wine may fetch him about again,

Widow. Truly, Mr. Lovemore, I'm much oblig'd to you, and fhall endeavour to return your friendly Advice. I hope we fhall live as loving Neighbours ought, but now we lofe time. The Viscount may perhaps be gone, fhould we stay longer,

Love. I'll but give fome Directions to my Man, and be there almoft as foon as you.

Widow. You will oblige us, Sir.

(Exit all but Love. and Clod. Clod. 'Tis main dark, nothing to be feen but the Sky and Stars. What can this Darkness portend! The Almanicks this Year fay, That many things will be huddled in the dark.

Love. Why, thou art an Aftrologer, Clodpole, thou talk'ft fo learnedly.

Clod. Why, truly I am but a Piece of one, but had I been a great Schollard, I believe I fhou'd have thought on things, that never had been thought on before.

Love. Very likely, truly. But hark! What Noise is that? There's Brittle's House, may be the is coming out.

Enter Mrs. Brittle and Damaris.

• Mrs. Britt. Softly Damaris, juft fhut the Door, we'll not be far from it.

Dam. Is your Husband faft, Madam ?

Mrs. Britt. I would not ftir till I saw him afleep; he's fnoring like one that's drunk.

Love. That's her Voice. Madam, where are you?
Dam. There they are, Madam.

Mrs. Britt. You find, Sir, I am as good as my. Word. I hope you are a Man of Honour, as you fay's yet were it to do again, I fhould hardly venture fuch another bold Attempt. 1

Love. Fear nothing, Madam. Your Perfon and your Honour both are fafe, whilft I am your Guard, Can none over-hear us?

Mrs. Britt. All the Family, but Damaris and I, are gone to Bed, nor dare we be long from thence, left my Husband fhould wake, and miss me.

1

Love. Talk not of parting e'er we well are met that were unkind, Mądam.

If you please, Madam, to walk a little farther this way, here's a Place more private, than the reft, and will beft befit our Difcourfe.

Mrs. Britt. Well, Sir, I'll not question your Honour any more, but truft my felf with you; as you behave your felf now, expect a greater Liberty ano

ther time.

Love. I'll warrant you: This way, my Charmer. (He leads her out; She takes hold of Damaris, who follows.

Mrs. Britt. Damaris!

Dam. I'm here, Madam.

(Clodpole feels with his Stick for Damaris. Damaris!

Clod. Damaris! Softly!

Damaris!

Enter Brittle, groping in the dark in a Cap and a

Night-Gown.

Britt. Where can fhe be gone at this time of Night? I heard her steal down; I'll liften.

Clod. Damaris, Where art thou, Damaris!· Odd, 'tis main dark.

Britt. Who have we here? Here's fomething more than ordinary. But I'll draw nearer.

(Goes towards him.

Clod. Damaris, Where art thou?

Britt. Here. (In a low Voice: Clodpole feels him with his Stick, thinks 'tis Damaris.

Clod. Oh! art thou there? Well, Damaris, muft not thee and I follow the Example of thy Miftrefs, and my Mafter? I'll warrant they'll be hugeous kind to one another; for my Mafter, you must know, has a mighty Love for her, and fo belike fhe has for him; or elfe the wou'd ne'er a left her Husband a-bed to a come to him, Britt.