Mist. That's true, Pru; for I never heard him pray my life, nor nobody else, I believe.

in

Maid. Well, Madam, I wish you had heard it now. Mist. What was it that would have moved me so, Pru? Maid. Would it not have moved you, Madam, to bear your dear father pray for you at the same time that you are grieving him as you do, and beg of God to forgive you, and reclaim you, and to restore you to him, that you might still be a child to him, and he may have an opportunity to make up to you what injury he had done you by his neglect in your education, and that your ruin may not be the effect of his omission? Would not this have moved you, Madam?

Mist. Truly, Pru, I cannot tell but it might.

Maid. If the words have not moved you, it would have made some impression on you to have seen the rest of the family.

Mist. What are they concerned in it?

Maid. Why, they are all concerned for you too.

Mist. For what, Pru?

Maid. If you will not be displeased, Madam.

Mist. No, Pru, speak freely.

Maid. And if my master will not be offended neither. Bro. No, no, Pru, let us know it all, and speak your mind freely.

Maid. Why, really, Madam, they are concerned on everal accounts, to see such a breach in the family,-to see ny master so grieved at it, and yet to see him so resolute against you, that they see plainly it will be the ruin of you both, and then to think upon how unjustifiable a ground you act. Pray pardon me, Madam, it is not fit I should talk thus.

Mist. Go on, Pru.

Maid. Why, Madam, was it ever known that a young gentleman, and a young lady, the eldest branches of the family, should break all to pieces with their father, and such a father too, and on no quarrel, but that he would

have them refrom, and serve God? What will the world say? I beseech you, Madam, consider of it; all the house condemn you now, and all the world will condemn you as soon as you are gone.

Mist. Well, Pru, but we are not gone yet.

Maid. I am afraid of it.

Mist. Why so, Pru? I suppose that belongs to the latter part of my father's discourse.

Maid. Yes, Madam.

Mist. Tell us that too, Pru.'

Maid. Why, that is it which gives me the greatest concern for you, Madam, that when my master had prayed so earnestly and so affectionately for your reclaiming and returning to your duty, he went on to pray for himself, that he might not be suffered to yield to your obstinacy; that his affection might not prevail over his duty; that if God in judgment had resolved totally to cast you off, he might be able to do so too; and that in the mean time he might be supported in maintaining his resolution of not receiving you again but as penitents, and on good assurance of your reformation as well as repentance. And this, Madam, made me so earnest with you: I think I shall break my heart for you.

[The maid weeps.]

Mist. Pr'ythee, don't grieve, Pru; but tell us what is to be done. What did you mean by talking of our coming in? I don't see what we have done, that we must repent so much.

Maid. Why, no, Madam, I hope not, if you will but be prevailed on now; and that made me say there was one step left to save you still.

Mist. I observed you said so, Pru. Pr'ythee, good Pru, what step is that? I did not think things were come to such an extremity with my father.

[She seems to be concerned, and lets fall some tears.] Maid. Why, Madam, all this, and more that I have not told you, is a firm belief that both your father and

upon

mother have, that you are both gone to the Park, as you

know you bade me say.

Mist. That's true.

Maid. Now, Madam, if you will give me leave to go in, and say you are both of you here, and have been no farther, perhaps this will alter the case.

Mist. You do not know my father, Pru; he is not so soon altered.

Maid. Perhaps, Madam, you may not know him neither in this case. Do you think, if he reckons your disobedience or fault so much his affliction, he will not be glad to hear that you have not been guilty?

Mist. Guilty of what, Pru? What is the fault?

Maid. Why, Madam, my master believes that, in defiance of his command, and God's command, and on purpose to let him see you resolve not to regard what he has said to you, you are both gone to the Park, to take your pleasure now on the Sabbath-day; and on this supposition he has commanded, when you come back, none of the servants shall dare let you in till they call him; and that, though he be gone to bed, he will be called up.

Mist. Nay, I knew if he was angry, he would be very

warm.

Maid. Now, Madam, here are a few minutes left. My master may be convinced you have not been any farther than this place; and you may come in the same way you went out; and I dare say my master will be glad of so just an occasion not to be severe with you. Try him, Madam, dear Madam, for your own sake do: you are quite undone, I am sure, if you do not.

Mist. He won't believe us now, Pru.

Maid. I shall be a witness for you, Madam. Besides, your brother there is in his gown and slippers, and that will prove he cannot have been at the Park.

Bro. Aye, aye, he cannot but be satisfied. Go, Pru, let it be so, we will follow you. I would not push things too far neither, sister.

Sist. Indeed, we have tried far enough for the first time, we'll go in after her then.

Maid. If you please to be walking a little while, I'll make you a signal when to come nearer.

Sist. Do so, Pru, we will come forward till we are in sight. If my father continues very angry, do you open my chamber window, and then we will come into the garden.

Bro. Come, let us go directly in after her.

Sist. No, no, let us wait a little: that will look as if she had fetched us.

Bro. I cannot think of provoking my father too much neither.

Sist. But let us get off from this then, as well as we

can.

[They continue walking.]

[Pru, being come into the house, makes as if she come down stairs, from her mistress' chamber, and meeting the mother, she begins weeping]

Pru. Oh, Madam! I am undone! 'tis I have made all this mischief!

Moth. Why, what's the matter, Pru?

Pru. Why, Madam, I told you, I thought my young master and my mistress were gone to the Park, and that made my master so angry with them both; and 'tis nothing like it, 'tis all my fault.

Moth. How do you know that, Pru? I should be glad for their own sakes it was as you say, and so would their father too; for though he is resolved to resent it, as he ought to do, being master of his family; yet, as a tender father, I am sure he would rejoice if it were not so.

Pru. So, Madam, do but go up stairs to our window, you may see them walking together in the back close, under the lime trees.

Moth. That may be, Pru; then they are come back. Pru. Nay, Madam, that is impossible too; for my young master is in his gown and slippers; and I dare say,

if you send up into his chamber, you will find his clothes there.

[The father comes.]

Fath. What is that Pru says? Are they come back? Has any of my servants let them in? I assure them I'll be as good as my word if they have. No such servant shall stay another day in my house.

Moth. My dear, be not too rash, we are all mistaken. Come along with me. Look, yonder they are; and Pru

says they have been there all this while.

[They go up stairs, and look out of the windows.]

Fath. I am not to be cheated. This is a feint. They

doors, and are come back,

But it will not do, I wil

have their intelligence within and walk there to blind us. not be imposed upon; and I hope you will not neither, my dear.

Moth. No, my dear. I will not be imposed upon neither; but if it be really so, I believe you would be glad as well as I; for I know your resentment is the effect of your duty, and not the defect of your love to them.

Fath. Indeed, I would be so glad to know that they were not guilty, that I could let out some of my blood to have it so but I can receive no satisfaction in being imposed upon. I never believe a thing merely because I would have it so.

Moth. Nor I neither; but Pru says, they cannot have been farther, for they are undrest; and I am going to my son's chamber, to see if it be so.

Fath. Do so, that may be some satisfaction.

[Pru throws open her mistress' chamber window and they see the signal, and come on to the garden.]

Moth. The thing is plain, I hope; for here is his hat, and sword, and coat.

[The mother returns.]

Fath. He may have come in and undressed him.

Moth. Some body must have let him in, then; and you know we have bad all the servants in our view: besides,