Scene I. Blunt's Chamber.
After a great knocking as at his Chamber Door, Enter Blunt softly
crossing the Stage, in his Shirt and Drawers as before.
Ned, Ned Blunt, Ned Blunt
[and knocking within.
The Rogues are up in Arms, 'Sheartlikins this Villainous
Frederick has betray'd me, they have heard of my blessed
Fortune,Ned Blunt Ned, Ned—
Whe he's dead Sir, without dispute dead, he has not been
seen to day, let's break open the door—here—Boy—
Ha, break open the door. d'sheartlikins that mad Fellow
will be as good as his word.
[a great noise within, at the door again.
Boy bring something to force the door,
So, now must I speak, in my own defence, I'l try what
Rhetorick will do—hold—hold what do you mean Gentlemen,
what do you mean?
Oh Rogue art a live, prithee open the door and convince
Yes, I am alive Gentlemen,—but at present a little
How, Blunt grown a Man of business, come, come, open
and let's see this Miracle.
No, no, no, no, Gentlemen 'tis no great business—but
—I am—at—my Devotion—d'sheartlikins will you not
alow a Man time to Pray.
Turn'd Religious! a greater wonder then the first, therefore
open quickly, or we shall unhinge, we shall.
This won't do—whe hearkey Col. to tell you the
plain truth, I am about a necessary affair of life—I have a wench
with me—you apprehend me? the Devils in't if they be so
uncivil as to disturb me now,
How a Wench! Nay then we must enter and partake
no resistance—unless it be your Lady of Quality, and then we'l
keep our distance,
So, the bus'ness is out.
[breaks open the Door.
Enter Belvile, Willmore, Frederick and Pedro. Blunt looks
simply, they all laugh at him, he lays his hand on
his Sword, and comes up to Wilmore.
Come, come lends more hands to the Door—now heave
altogether—so well done my Boyes—
Hearkey Sir, laugh out your laugh quickly, de ye hear,
and begone. I shall spoil your sport else, 'adsheartlikins Sir, I shall
the jeast has been carryed on too long—a plague upon my Tayler.—
'Sdeath, how the Whore has drest him, Faith Sir I'm
[lays his hand on's Sword.
Are you so Sir, keep't to your self then Sir, I advise you,
de'ye hear, for I can as little endure your pitty as his Mirth.
Indeed Willmore, thou wer't a little too rough with Ned
Blunt Mistress, call a Person of Quality whore? and one so
young, so sandsome, and so Eloquent—ha, ha, he.—
Harkey Sir, you know me, and know I can be angry,
have a care—for adsheartlikins I can fight too—I can Sir,—do
you mark me—no more—
Why so peevish good Ned, some disappointments I'le
warrant—what? did the Jealous Count her Husband return
just in the nick?
Or the Devil Sir—de'ye laugh—
Look ye settle me a good sober countenance, and that quickly
too, or you shall know Ned Blunt is not—
Not every Body, we know that.
Not an Ass to be laught at Sir,
Unconscionable sinner, to bring a Lover so neer his happiness,
a vigorous passionate Lover, and then not only cheat him
of his moveables, but his very desires to.
Ah! Sir a Mistress, is a trifle with Blunt. he'l have a
duzen the next time he looks abroad, his Eyes have Charms, not
to be resisted, there needs no more then to expose that taking
Person, to the view of the Fair, and he leads 'em all in Triumph.
Sir, tho 'I'me a stranger to you, I am asham'd at the rudeness
of my Nation; and cou'd you learn who did it, wou'd assist you
to make an Example of 'em.
Whe aye, there's one speaks Sense now, and han'somly;
and let me tell you Gentlemen, I shou'd not have shew'd my self
like a Jack Puding, thus to have made you Mirth, but that I
have revenge within my power, for know, I have got into my
possession a Femal, who had better have fallen under any Curse,
then the ruine I design her: 'adsheartlikins she assaulted me here
in my own Lodgings, and had doubtless committed a Rape upon
me, had not this Sword defended me.
[Blunt shews the Ring.
I know not that, but O my conscience thou had Ravisht
her, had shee not redeem'd her self with a Ring—let's see't
[Goes to whisper to him.
Hah!—the Ring I gave Florinda, when we Exchange
our Vows—harkey Blunt—
No whispering good Col. there's a Woman in the case,
Harkey Fool, be advis'd, and conceal both the Ring and
the story for your Reputations sake, do not let people know what
despis'd Cullies we English are, to be cheated and abus'd by one
Whore, and another rather bribe thee than be kind to thee is an
Infamy to our Nation.
Come, come where's the Wench, we'l see her, let her
be what she will, wee'l see her.
Ay, ay, let us see her, I can soon discover whether she be
of quality, or for your diversion.
She's in Frederick Custody.
[To Frederick who gives him the Key, they are going.
Come, come the Key,
Death, what shall I do—Stay Gentlemen—yet if I hinder 'em I shall discover all,—hold
—lets go one at once—give me the Key.
Nay hold there Col. I'le go first.
Nay no dispute, Ned and I have the gropriety of her.
Belville goes to whisper Willmore
They all draw forgetting Don Pedro being as a Spaniard had the longest.
Damn propriety—then we'l draw cuts,
—nay no corruption good Col. come the longest
Sword carries her—
I yield up my int'rest to you Gentlemen, and that will
be; revenge sufficient.
The Wench is yours— [to Pedro.] Pox of his Tolledo,
I had forgot that.
[Ex. Fred. & Pedro
Come Sir, I'le Conduct you to the Lady
Willmore walking up and down out of Humour.
To hinder him will certainly discover her—Do'st know Dull beast what mischief
thou hast done?
Aye, Aye, to trust our Fortune to Lotts, a Devil on't,
'twas madness that's the truth on't.
Enter Florinda running mask't, Pedro after her: Willmore
gazing round her.
Oh intollerable Sott—
Good Heaven defend me from discovery.
'Tis but in vain to fly me, you're fallen to my Lot.
Sure she's undiscovered yet, but now I fear there is no
way to bring her off:
[Pedro talking to Florinda, who walks up and down.
Whe what a Pox is not this my woman, the same I follow'd
As if I did not know yee, and your business here.
Good Heaven, I fear he does indeed—
Come, pray be kind, I know you meant to be so when
you enter'd here, for these are proper Gentlemen.
But Sir—perhaps the Lady will not be impos'd upon,
She'l chuse her Man.
Enter Valeria, and is surpriz'd at sight of Don Pedro.
I am better bred, then not to leave her choice free.
Don Pedro here! there's no avoiding him.
Valeria! then I'm undone,—
Oh! have I found you Sir— [To Pedro running to him.
—the strangest accident—if I had breath—to tell it.
Speak—is Florinda safe? Hellena well?
Ay, Ay Sir—Florinda—is safe—from any
fears of you.
Why where's Florinda?—speak—
Aye, where indeed Sir, I wish I cou'd inform you,
—but to hold you no longer in doubt—
Oh what will she say—
—She's fled away in the habit—of one of her Pages Sir—
but Callis thinks you may retrieve her yet, if you make haste
away, she'l tell you, Sir, the rest—if you can find her out.
Dishonourable Girle, she has undone my Aime—Sir—you
see my necessity of leaving you, and hope you'l Pardon it; my
Sister I know will make her flight to you; and if she do, I shall
Expect she shou'd be render'd back.
I shall consult my Love and Honour Sir.
My dear Preserver, let me imbrace thee.
What the Devil's all this?
Mysterie by this light.
Come, come, make haste and get your selves married
quickly, for your Brother will return again.
I'm so surpriz'd with fears and joyes, so amaz'd to find
you here in safety, I can scarce perswade my heart into a faith of
what I see—
Harkey Colonel, is this that Mistress who has cost you
so many sighs, and me so many quarrels with you?
It is—pray give him the honour of your hand.
Thus it must be receiv'd then [Kneels and kisses her hand.
And with it give your Pardon too.
The Friend to Belvile may command me any thing.
Death, wou'd I might, 'tis a surprizing Beauty.
Boy, run and fetch a Father instantly.
So, now do I stand like a Dog, and have not a syllable to
plead my own Cause with: by this hand, Madam, I was never
throughly confounded before, nor shall I ever more dare look up
with confidence, till you are pleas'd to Pardon me.
Sir, I'le be reconcil'd to you on one condition, that you'l
follow the Example of your Friend, in Marrying a Maid that does
not hate you, and whose fortune (I believe) will not be unwelcome
Madam, had I no Inclinations that way, I shou'd obey
your kind Commands.
Who Frederick marry, he has so few inclinations for Woman
kind, that had he been possest of Paradice, he might have continu'd
there to this day, if no Crime but Love cou'd have dis-inherited
Oh, I do not use to boast of my intregues.
Boast, when thou dost nothing but boast; and I dare swear,
wer't thou as Innocent from the sin of the Grape, as thou art from
the Apple, thou might'st yet claim that right in Eden which our
first Parents lost by too much Loving.
I wish this Lady would think me so modest a man.
[She gives him her hand.
She wou'd be sorry then, and not like you half so well, and
I should be loath to break my word with you, which was, That if
your Friend and mine agreed, it shou'd be a Match between you
[Kisses her hand.
Bear witness, Colonel, 'tis a Bargain.
I have a Pardon to beg too, but adsheartlikins I am so
out of Countenance, that I'm a Dog if I can say any thing to Purpose.
Sir, I heartily forgive you all.
[Gives him the Ring he gives to Florinda.
That's nobly said, sweet Lady,—Belvile, prithee present
her her Ring again; for I find I have not Courage to approach
her my self.
Sir, I have brought the Father that you sent for.
'Tis well, and now my dear Florinda, let's fly to compleat
that mighty joy we have so long wish't and sigh'd for:
—Come Frederick—you'l follow?
Your Example Sir, 'twas ever my ambition in War, and
must be so in Love.
And must not I see this juggling knot ty'd?
No, thou shalt do us better service, and be our guard,
least Don Pedro's suddain return interrupt the Ceremony.
[Ex. Bel. Flor. Fred. and Vall.
Content—I'll secure this pass.
Sir, there's a Lady without wou'd speak to you.
Conduct her in, I dare not quit my Post.
And Sir, your Taylor waits you in your Chamber.
[Ex. Blunt and Boy.
Enter again the Boy, conducting in Angellica in a Masquing
Habit and a Vizard. Willmore runs to her.
Some comfort yet, I shall not dance naked at the Wedding.
This can be none but my pretty Gipsie—Oh, I see you
can follow as well as fly—Come, confess thy self the most
malicious Devil in Nature, you think you have done my bus'ness
[She draws a Pistol, and holds to his Brest.
Stand off, base Villain—
Hah, 'tis not she, who art thou? and what's thy business?
One thou hast injur'd, and who comes to kill thee for't.
What the Devil canst thou mean?
[Holds still the Pistol to his Brest, he going back, she following still.
By all my hopes to kill thee—
Prithee on, what acquaintance? for I know thee not.
Behold this face!—so lost to thy remembrance,And then call all thy sins about thy Soul,And let 'em dye with thee.
Yes, Taylor,Does not thy guilty blood run shivering through thy Veins?Hast thou no horrour at this sight, that tells thee,Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest?
Faith, no Child, my blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows
still, and that usual heat too, that cou'd oblige thee with a kindness,
had I but opportunity.
Devil! dost with my pain—have at thy heart.
Hold, dear ! hold thy hand a little,I am not now at leasure to be kill'd—hold and hear me——Death, I think she's in earnest.
Oh if I take not heed,My coward heart will leave me to his mercy.—What have you, Sir, to say?—but shou'd I hear thee,Thoud'st talk away all that is brave about me:And I have vow'd thy death, by all that's Sacred.
Whe then there's an end of a proper handsome Fellow,That might a liv'd to have done good service yet;—That's all I can say to't.
yet—I wou'd give thee—time for—penitence.
Faith Child, I thank God, I have ever tookCare to lead a good sober, hopeful Life, and am of a ReligionThat teaches me to believe, I shall depart in peace.
So will the Devil! tell me,How many poor believing Fools thou hast undone?How many hearts thou hast betray'd to ruin?—Yet these are little mischiefs to the IllsThoust taught mine to commit▪ thoust taught it Love?
Egad 'twas shrewdly hurt the while.
[All this while follows him with the Pistol to his Breast.
—Love, that has rob'd it of its unconcernOf all that Pride that taught me how to value it.And in its roomA mean submissive Passion was convey'd,That made me humbly bow, which I nere didTo any thing but Heaven.—Thou, Perjur'd Man, didst this, and with thy Oaths,Which on thy Knees, thou didst devoutly make,Soften'd my yielding heart—And then, I was a slave——Yet still had been content to've worn my Chains:Worn 'em with vanity and joy for ever,Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.—'Twas then I was undone.
Broke my Vows! whe where hast thou liv'd?Amongst the Gods? for I never heard of mortal Man,That has not broke a thousand Vows.
Angellica! that Beauty has been too long tempting,Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,Who in the Amorous Favour, no doubt have swornLike me: did they all dye in that Faith? still Adoring?I do not think they did.
No, faithless Man: had I repaid their Vows, as I did thine,
I wou'd have kill'd the ingrateful that had abandon'd me.
This Old General has quite spoil'd thee, nothing makes
a Woman so vain, as being flatter'd; your old Lover ever supplies
the defects of Age, with intollerable Dotage, vast Charge,
and that which you call Constancy; and attributing all this to
your own Merits, you domineer, and throw your Favours
in's Teeth, upbraiding him still with the defects of Age, and
Cuckold him as often as he deceives your Expectations. But
the Gay, Young, Brisk Lover, that brings his equal Fires, and
can give you dart for dart, you'l will be as nice as you sometimes.
All this thou'st made me know, for which I hate thee.Had I remain'd in innocent security,I shou'd have thought all men were born my slaves,And worn my pow'r like lightening in my Eyes,To have destroy'd at pleasure when offended:—But when Love held the Mirror, the undeceiving GlassReflected all the weakness of my Soul, and made me knowMy richest treasure being lost, my Honour,All the remaining spoil cou'd not be worthThe Conqueror's Care or Value.—Oh how I fell like a long worship't IdolDiscovering all the Cheat.Wou'd not the Insence and rich Sacrifice,Which blind Devotion offer'd at my Alters,Have fall'n to thee?Why wou'dst thou then destroy my fancy'd pow'r.
[Offers her a Purse of Gold.
By Heaven thou'rt brave, and I admire thee strangelyI wish I were that dull, that constant thingWhich thou wou'dst have, and Nature never meant me:I must, like cheerful Birds, sing in all Groves,And perch on every Bough,Billing the next kind she that flies to meet me;Yet after all cou'd build my Nest with thee,Thither repairing when I'd lov'd my round,And still reserve a tributary Flame.—To gain your credit, I'l pay you back your Charity,And be oblig'd for nothing but for Love.
Oh that thou wert in earnest!So mean a thought of me,Wou'd turn my rage to scorn, and I shou'd pity thee,And give thee leave to live;Which for the publick safety of our Sex,And my own private Injuries, I dare not do▪
Prepare—I will no more be tempted with replies.
[She follows him with the Pistol ready to shoot; he retires still amaz'd. Enter Don Antonio, his Arm in a Scarf, and layes hold on the Pistol.
Another word will damn thee! I've heard thee talk too
Antonio! what Devil brought thee hither?
Love and Curiosity, seeing your Coach at door.Let me disarm you of this unbecoming instrument of
death—amongst the Number of your slaves, was
there not one, worthy the Honour to have fought your quarrel?—Who are you Sir, that are so very wretchedTo merit death from her?
One Sir, that cou'd have made a better End of an Amorous
quarrel without you, than with you.
[Offers to shoot him.
Sure 'tis some Rival,—hah—the very Man took down
her Picture yesterday—the very same that set on me last night
Hold, you're mistaken Sir.
By Heaven the very same!—Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?
[Draws: Anton. offers to shoot.
Sir, I do not use to be Examin'd, and am Ill at all disputes
Enter Don Pedro, sees Antonio, and stays.
Oh hold! you see he's Arm'd with certain death;—And you Antonio, I command you hold,By all the Passion you've so lately vow'd me.
Hah, Antonio! and Angellica!
When I refuse obedience to your WillmoreMay you destroy me with your Mortal hate.By all that's Holy I Adore you so,That even my Rival, who has Charms enoughTo make him fall a Victim to my jealousieShall live, nay and have leave to love on still.
What's this I hear?
[Goes out, Antonio follows, but Pedro pulls him back.
Ah thus! twas thus! he talkt, and I believ'd.—(Antonio,) yesterday,I'd not have sold my Intrest in his heart,For all the Sword has won and lost in Battail.—But now to show my utmost of contempt,I give thee Life—which if thou wou'dst preserve,Live where my Eyes may never see thee more,Live to undo some one, whose Soul may prove,So bravely constant to revenge my Love.
What Coward fear was that prevented theeFrom meeting me this morning on the Molo?
Yes me; I was the Man that dar'd thee to't.
Hast thou so often seen me fight in War,To find no better Cause to excuse my absence?—I sent my Sword and one to do thee right,Finding my self uncapable to use a Sword.
But 'twas Florinda's Quarrel that we fought,And you to shew how little you esteem'd her,Sent me your Rival, giving him your Intrest.—But I have found the cause of this affront,And when I meet you fit for the dispute,—I'l tell you my resentment.
I shall be ready, Sir, e're long to do you reason.
If I cou'd find Florinda, now whilst my angers high,I think I shou'd be kind, and give her to Belvile in revenge.
Faith, Sir, I know not what you wou'd do, but I believe the Priest within has been so kind.
How! my Sister Married?
I hope by this time he is, and bedded too, or he has notMy longings about him.
Dares he do this! does he not fear my Pow'r?
Faith not at all, if you will 'go in, and thank him for
the favour he has done your Sister, so, if not, Sir, my Pow'rs
greater in this house than yours, I have a damn'd surly Crew here,
that will keep you till the next Tide, and then clap you on bord
for Prise; my Ship lies but a League off the Molo, and we shall
show your Donship a damn'd Rovers Trick.
This Rogue's in some new Mischief—hah Pedro return'd!
Colonel Belvile, I hear you have Married my Sister?
You have heard truth then, Sir.
Have I so; then, Sir, I wish you Joy.
By this imbrace I do, and I am glad on't.
Are you in earnest?
[Ex. Bel. with Pedro
Willmore goes to follow them. Enter Hellena as before in
Boys Clothes, and pulls him back.
By our long Friendship and my obligations to thee, I am,The sudain change, I'le give you reasons for anon,Come lead me to my Sister,That she may know, I now approve her choice.
Ha! my Gipsie:—now a thousand blessings on thee
for this kindness, Egad Child I was e'en in dispair of ever seeing
thee again; my Friends are all provided for within, each Man his
Hah! I thought they had serv'd me some such trick!
And I was e'en resolv'd to go aboard, and condemn my self
to my lone Cabin, and the thoughts of thee.
And cou'd you have left me behind, wou'd you have been
so ill natur'd?
Whe twou'd have broke my Heart Child:—but
since we are met again, I defie foul weather to part us.
And wou'd you be a Faithful Friend, now if a Maid shou'd
For a Friend I cannot promise, thou art of a form so Excellent
a Face and Humour, too good for cold dull Friendship; I
am afraid of being in Love Child, and you have not forgot
how severely you have us'd me?
That's all one, such usage you must still look for, to find
out all your Haunts, to raile at you to all that Love you, till I have
made you love only me in your own defence, because no body
else will love.
But hast thou no better quality, to recommend thy self
Faith none Captain:—whe 'twill be the greater Charity
to take me for thy Mistress. I am alone Child, a kind of Orphan
Lover, and why I shou'd dye a Maid, and in a Captains hands
too, I do not understand,
Egad, I was never claw'd away with Broad-sides from
any Female before, thou hast one Vertue I Adore, good Nature;
I hate a Coy demure Mistress, she's as troublesome as a Colt, I'l
break none; no give me a mad Mistress when Mew'd, and in
flying on I dare trust upon the wing, that whil'st she's kind will
come to the Lure.
Nay as kind as you will good Capt. whil'st it lasts, but
let's lose no time,
My time's as precious to me, as thine can be, therefore
dear creature, since we are so well agreed, let's retire to my Chamber,
and if ever thou wert treated with such Savory Love!—
come—my beds prepar'd for such a guest all clean and Sweet
as thy fair self, I love to steal a Dish and a Bottle with a Friend, and
hate long Graces—come let's retire and fall too.
'Tis but getting my consent, and the bus'ness is soon
done, let but old Himen and his Priest, say amen to't, and I
dare lay my Mothers daughter by as proper a Fellow as your Father's
Son, without fear or blushing,
Hold, hold, no words Child, Priest and Hymen,
prithee add a Hang-man to 'em to make up the consort,—no, no,
we'l have no Vows but Love, Child, nor witness but the Lover,
the kind Deity injoyn naught but Love! and injoy! Himen and
Priest wait still upon Portion, and Joynture; Love and Beauty
have their own Ceremonies; Marriage is as certain a bane to
Love, as lending Money is to Friendship: I'l neither ask nor give
a Vow,—tho' I cou'd be content to turn Gipsie, and become a
left-handed bride-groom, to have the pleasure of working that
great Miracle of making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture;
'tis upse Gipsie that, and if I miss, I'l lose my Labour.
And if you do not lose, what shall I get? a cradle full of
noise and mischief, with a pack of repentance at my back? can
you teach me to weave to pass my time with? 'tis upse Gipsie
I can teach thee to Weave a true loves knot better.
Well, I see we are both upon our Guards, and I see there's
no way to conquer good Nature, but by yielding,—here—
give me thy hand—one kiss and I am thine—
One kiss! how like my Page he speaks; I am resolv'd
you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking sum,—he that
will be satisfied with one kiss, will never dye of that longing; good
Friend, single kiss, is all your talking come to this?—a kiss, a
caudle! farewel Captain, single kiss.
Nay if we part so, let me dye like a bird upon a bough,
at the Sheriffs charge, by Heaven both the Indies, shall not buy
thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will marry thee, and we
are so of one Humour, it must be a bargain—give me thy
hand.— [Kisses her Hand. And now let the blind ones (Love and Fortune) do their worst.
Whe God-a-mercy Captain!
But harkey—the bargain is now made; but is it not fit
we shou'd know each others Names? that when we have reason
to curse one another hereafter (and People ask me who 'tis I give
to the Devil) I may at least be able to tell, what Family you came
Good reason, Captain; and where I have cause, (as I
doubt not but I shall have plentiful) that I may know at whom to
throw my—blessings—I beseech ye your Name.
I am call'd Robert the ConstAntonio
A very fine name; pray was it your Faulkner or Butler
that Chisten'd you? do they not use to Whistle when they call
I hope you have a better, that a man may name without
crossing himself, you are so merry with mine.
Enter Pedro, Belvile, Florinda, Fred. Valleria.
I am call'd Hellena the InconstAntonio
The very same—hah my Brother! now Captain shew
your Love and Courage; stand to your Arms, and defend me
bravely, or I am lost for Ever.
What's this I hear! false Girle, how came you hither, and
what's your bus'ness? Speak.
Hold off Sir, you have leave to parly only.
I had e'en as good tell it, as you guess it; Faith Brother
my bus'ness, is the same with all living Creatures of my Age, to
love, and be beloved, and here's the Man.
Perfidious Maid, hast thou deceiv'd me too, deceiv'd thy
self and Heaven;
'Tis time enough to make my peace with that,Be you but kind let me alone with Heaven,
Belvile, I did not expect this false play from you; was't
not enough you'd gain Florinda (which I pardon'd) but your lewd
Friends too must be inricht with the spoyls of a Noble Family?
Faith Sir, I am as much surpriz'd at this as you can be:
Yet Sir, my Friends are Gentlemen, and ought to be Esteem'd for
their Misfortunes, since they have the Glory to suffer with the
best of Men and Kings; 'tis true, he's a Rover of Fortune,
Yet a Prince, aboard his little wooden World.
What's this to the maintenance of a Woman of her Birth
Faith Sir, I can boast of nothing but a Sword which does
me right where e're I come, and has defended a worse Cause then
a Womans; and since I lov'd her before I either knew her Birth or
Name, I must pursue my resolution, and marry her.
And is all your holy intent of becoming a Nun, debauch't
into a desire of Man?
Whe—I have consider'd the matter Brother, and find,
the Three hundred thousand Crowns my Uncle left me (and
you cannot keep from me) will be better laid out in Love than in
Religion, and turn to as good an account,—let most voyces carry
it, for Heaven or the Captain?
All cry, a Captain? a Captain?
Look yee Sir, 'tis a clear case.
Oh I am mad—if I refuse, my lifes in danger— [aside.
—Come—there's one motive induces me—take her—
I shall now be free from fears of her Honour, guard it you now, if
you can, I have been a slave to't long enough,
Faith Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a womans
Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it.
Well said Captain.
This was your Plot Mistress, but I hope you have married
one that will revenge my quarrel to you—
There's no altering Destinie, Sir.
Enter Blunt drest in a Spanish Habit, looking very
ridiculously; his Man a justing his Band.
Sooner than a Womans Will, therefore I forgive you
all—and wish you may get my Father's Pardon as Easily; which
Well Sir, 'dshearlikins I tell you 'tis damnable Ill Sir,
—a Spanish habit good Lord! Cou'd the Devil and my Taylor
devise no other punishment for me, but the Mode of a Nation
What's the matter Ned?
Pray view me round, and judge,—
I must confess thou art a kind of an odd Figure.
In a Spanish habit with a Vengeance! I had rather be in
the Inquisition for Judaisme, than in this Doublet and Breeches,
a Pillory were an easie Coller, to this three handfuls high; and
these Shoes too, are worse, then the stocks with the sole an Inch
shorter than my Foot: In fine, Gentlemen, methinks I look altogether
like a Bag of stufft full of Fooles flesh.
Methinks 'tis well, and makes thee look e'n Cavalier:
Come Sir, settle your face, and salute our Friends, Lady—
Hah!—say'st thou so my Little Rover—
Lady—(if you be one) give me leave to kiss your hand, and tell
you adshearlikins for all I look so, I am your humble Servant,—
a Pox of my Spanish habit.
Enter several Men and Women in Masquing Habits with
Musick, they put themselves in order and Dance.
Sir, as the Custome is, the gay people in Masquerade who
make every mans House their own, are coming up:
Adsheartlikins, wou'd twere lawful to pull off their
false faces, That I might see if my Doxie were not amongst e'm.
Ladies and Gentlemen, since you are come so apropo, you
must take a small Collation with us.
Whilst we'le to the Good Man within, who stayes to
give us a of his Office.
—Have you no trembling at the near approach?
No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.
Egad thou'rt a brave Girle, and I admire thy Love and
Courage.Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread,Who Venture in the Storms o'th' Marriage Bed.