_Gay_. I see you"re peevish, and you shall be humour"d.--You know my _Julia_ play"d me e"en such another Prank as your false one is going to play you, and married old Sir _Cautious Fulbank_ here i"th" City; at which you know I storm"d, and rav"d, and swore, as thou wo"t now, and to as little purpose. There was but one way left, and that was cuckolding him.

_Bel_. Well, that Design I left thee hot upon.

_Gay_. And hotly have pursu"d it: Swore, wept, vow"d, wrote, upbraided, prayed and railed; then treated lavishly, and presented high--till, between you and I, _Harry_, I have presented the best part of Eight hundred a year into her Husband"s hands, in Mortgage.

_Bel_. This is the Course you"d have me steer, I thank you.

_Gay_. No, no, Pox on"t, all Women are not Jilts. Some are honest, and will give as well as take; or else there would not be so many broke i"th" City. In fine, Sir, I have been in Tribulation, that is to say, Moneyless, for six tedious Weeks, without either Clothes, or Equipage to appear withal; and so not only my own Love-affair lay neglected--but thine too--and I am forced to pretend to my Lady, that I am i"th"



Country with a dying Uncle--from whom, if he were indeed dead, I expect two thousand a Year.

_Bel_. But what"s all this to being here this Morning?

_Gay_. Thus have I lain conceal"d like a Winter-Fly, hoping for some blest Sunshine to warm me into life again, and make me hover my flagging Wings; till the News of this Marriage (which fills the Town) made me crawl out this silent Hour, to upbraid the fickle Maid.

_Bel_. Didst thou?--pursue thy kind Design. Get me to see her; and sure no Woman, even possest with a new Pa.s.sion, Grown confident even to Prost.i.tution, But when she sees the Man to whom she"s sworn so very--very much, will find Remorse and Shame.

_Gay_. For your sake, though the day be broke upon us, And I"m undone, if seen--I"ll venture in-- [_Throws his Cloke over_.

_Enter Sir_ Feeble Fainwou"d, _Sir_ Cautious Fulbank, Bearjest _and_ Noisey. [_Pa.s.s over the Stage, and go in_.

Hah--see the Bridegroom! And with him my destin"d Cuckold, old Sir _Cautious Fulbank_.--Hah, what ail"st thou, Man?

_Bel_. The Bridegroom! Like _Gorgon"s_ Head he"as turned me into Stone.

_Gay_. _Gorgon"s_ Head--a Cuckold"s Head--"twas made to graft upon.

_Bel_. By Heaven, I"ll seize her even at the Altar, And bear her thence in Triumph.

_Gay_. Ay, and be borne to _Newgate_ in Triumph, and be hanged in Triumph--"twill be cold Comfort, celebrating your Nuptials in the Press-Yard, and be wak"d next Morning, like Mr. _Barnardine_ in the Play--Will you please to rise and be hanged a little, Sir?

_Bel_. What wouldst thou have me do?

_Gay_. As many an honest Man has done before thee--Cuckold him-- cuckold him.

_Bel_. What--and let him marry her! She that"s mine by sacred Vows already! By Heaven, it would be flat Adultery in her!

_Gay_. She"ll learn the trick, and practise it the better with thee.

_Bel_. Oh Heavens! _Leticia_ marry him! and lie with him!-- Here will I stand and see this shameful Woman, See if she dares pa.s.s by me to this Wickedness.

_Gay_. Hark ye, _Harry_--in earnest have a care of betraying your self; and do not venture sweet Life for a fickle Woman, who perhaps hates you.

_Bel_. You counsel well--but yet to see her married!

How every thought of that shocks all my Resolution!-- But hang it, I"ll be resolute and saucy, Despise a Woman who can use me ill, And think my self above her.

_Gay_. Why, now thou art thy self--a Man again.

But see, they"re coming forth, now stand your ground.

_Enter Sir_ Feeble, _Sir_ Cautious, Bearjest, Noisey, Leticia _sad_, Diana, Phillis. [_Pa.s.s over the Stage_.

_Bel_. "Tis she; support me, _Charles_, or I shall sink to Earth, --Methought in pa.s.sing by she cast a scornful glance at me; Such charming Pride I"ve seen upon her Eyes, When our Love-Quarrels arm"d "em with Disdain-- I"ll after "em, if I live she shall not "scape me.

[_Offers to go_, Gay. _holds him_.

_Gay_. Hold, remember you"re proscribed, And die if you are taken.

_Bel_. I"ve done, and I will live, but he shall ne"er enjoy her.

--Who"s yonder, _Ralph_, my trusty Confident?

_Enter_ Ralph.

Now though I perish I must speak to him.

--Friend, what Wedding"s this?

_Ral_. One that was never made in Heaven, Sir; "Tis Alderman _Fainwou"d_, and Mrs. _Leticia Bredwel_.

_Bel_. Bredwel--I have heard of her,--she was Mistress--

_Ral_. To fine Mr. _Bellmour_, Sir,--ay, there was a Gentleman --But rest his Soul--he"s hang"d, Sir. [_Weeps_.

_Bel_. How! hang"d?

_Ral_. Hang"d, Sir, hang"d--at the _Hague_ in _Holland_.

_Gay_. I heard some such News, but did not credit it.

_Bel_. For what, said they, was he hang"d?

_Ral_. Why, e"en for High Treason, Sir, he killed one of their Kings.

_Gay_. Holland"s a Commonwealth, and is not rul"d by Kings.

_Ral_. Not by one, Sir, but by a great many; this was a Cheesemonger --they fell out over a Bottle of Brandy, went to Snicker Snee; Mr.

_Bellmour_ cut his Throat, and was hang"d for"t, that"s all, Sir.

_Bel_. And did the young Lady believe this?

_Ral_. Yes, and took on most heavily--the Doctors gave her over--and there was the Devil to do to get her to consent to this Marriage--but her Fortune was small, and the hope of a Ladyship, and a Gold Chain at the Spittal Sermon, did the Business--and so your Servant, Sir.

[_Ex_. Ralph.

_Bel_. So, here"s a hopeful Account of my sweet self now.

_Enter Post-man with Letters_.

_Post_. Pray, Sir, which is Sir _Feeble Fainwou"d"s_?

_Bel_. What wou"d you with him, Friend?

_Post_. I have a Letter here from the _Hague_ for him.

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