Good. Trust me! yes, for if you don't, 'tis all one→→→ Credulous innocence! [Aside.] Alas, my dear, were I as false as thou art good, thy generous confidence would shame me into honesty.

Enter CAMILLA running and squeaking; TRUMAN and VALENTINE after her.

Cam. For heaven's sake, madam, save me!-Mr. Goodvile, 'tis safer travelling through the Deserts of Arabia, than entering your house: had I not run hard for it, I had been devoured, that's certain.

Val. Oh, madam, are you herded? It will be to little purpose; I am stanch, and never change my game. Cam. But when you have lost it, if fresh start up, you can be as fully satisfied, who hunt more for the love of the sport, than for the sake of the prey.

Val. But, madam, should you chance to be taken, look to't; for I shall touze and worry you most unmercifully, till I have revenged myself severely for the pains you cost me catching.

Cam. Therefore I am resolved to keep out of your reach; Lord! what would become of such a poor little creature as I am, in the paws of so ravenous an animal?

Tru. But are you too, lady, so wild as Mrs. Camilla? Vict. Oh, sir, to the full! but I hope you are not so unmerciful as Mr. Valentine.

Tru. No, madam, quite on the contrary, as soft and pliant as your pillow: you may mould me to your own ease and pleasure, which way you will.

Vict. "Tis strange two of such different tempers should so well agree: methinks you look like two as roaring, ranting, tory-rory sparks as one would wish to meet withal.

Val. Yes, madam, at the playhouse in a vizor *, when

* The practice of females appearing masked at the theatre, had been introduced after the Restoration, and was common at this period. It grew at last into a nuisance; and having been partly the occasion of a duel, was prohibited by government about the year 1705.

you come drest and prepared for the encounter; there indeed we can be as unanimously modish and impertinent as the pertest coxcombs of 'em all: till like them too, we lose our hearts, and never know what becomes of 'em.

Cam. But the comfort is, you are sure to find 'em again in the next bottle.

Mrs. Good. Then drink 'em down to the ladies' healths, and they are as well at ease as ever they were.

Tru. Why, you would not be so unconscionable as to have us two such whining crop-sick lovers, as sigh away their hours, and write lamentable ditties, to be sung about the town by fools and bullies in taverns.

Good. Till some Smithfield doggrel, taking the hint, swells the sonnet to a ballad, and Chloris dwindles into a kitchen-wench.

Vict. "Tis presumed then you are of that familiar tribe that never make love but by contraries, and rally our faults, when you pretend to admire our perfections.

Cam. As if the only way to raise a good opinion of yourselves, were to let us know how ill a one you have of us.

Tru. Faith, madam, 'tis a hard world; and when beauty is held at so dear a rate, 'tis the best way to beat down the market as much as we can.

Val. But you shall find, ladies, we'll bid like chapmen for all that.

you over

Vict. You had best have a care though lest reach yourselves, and repent of your purchase when 'tis too late.

Cam. Besides, I hate a Dutch bargain that's made in heat of wine, for the love it raises is generally like the courage it gives, very extraordinary, but very short

lived.

Good. How, madam! have a care what you say: wine is the prince of love, and all ladies that speak against it, forfeit their charter. I must not have my favourite traduced. Boy, bring some wine: you shall

prove it's good effects, and then acknowledge it your friend. We'll drink

-

Cam. Till your brains are afloat, and all the rest

sink.

Val. I find then, ladies, you have the like opinion of our heads, as you have of our hearts.

Cam. Really, sir, you are much in the right.

Tru. But if your ladyship should be in the wrong-Though love, like wine, be a good refresher, yet 'tis much more dangerous to be too busy withal. And though now and then I may over-heat my head with drinking; yet, confound me, I think I shall have a care never to break my heart with loving.

Mrs. Good. But, sir, if all men were of your cruel temper, what would become of those tender-hearted creatures that cannot forbear saluting ye with a billet in a morning, though it comes without a name, and makes you as unsatisfied as they poor creatures are themselves?

Tru. Hah, this concerns me! Blockhead, dull leaden sot that I was, not to be sensible it must be she, and none but she could send mine this morning. Well, poor Jack Truman, look to thyself, snares are laid for thee; but the virtuous must suffer temptation; and heaven knows all flesh is frail. [Aside.

Enter Boy, with Wine.

Good. Now, boy, fill the glasses. But before we proceed, one thing is to be considered. My dear, you and I are to be no man and wife for this day, but be as indifferent, and take as little notice one of another, as we may chance to do seven years hence; but at night

Val. A very fair proposal.

Mrs. Good. Agreed, sir, if you will have it so.
Good. The wine-now each man to his post.

The word.

[They separate, Good. to Cam. Val, to Vict. Trum. to Mrs. Goodvile.

[All take glasses.

Tru. Love and wine.

Good. Pass-→

Enter LETTICE.

[They drink.

Now that nothing may be wanting, Lettice, you must sing the song I brought home t'other morning; for music is as great an encouragement to drinking, as fighting.

LETTICE sings.

How blest he appears,

That revels and loves out his happy years; That fiercely spurs on till he finish his race; And knowing life's short, chooses living apace! To cares we were born, 'twere a folly to doubt it: Then love and rejoice, there's no living without it.

Each day we grow older;

But as fate approaches, the brave still are bolder; The joys of love with our youth slide away, But yet there are pleasures that never decay: When beauty grows dull, and our passions grow cold, Wine still keeps it's charms, and we drink when we're old.

Good. So, now show me an enemy to divine harmonious drinking.

Boy. Sir, my lady Squeamish is below, just alighted out of her coach.

Good. Nay, then drinking will have the major vote against it. She is the most exact observer of decorums and decency alive. But she is not alone, I hope.

Boy. No, sir, there is Mr. Malagene with her, and three more gentlemen; one they call sir Noble Clumsey, a full portly gentleman.

Tru. That's a hopeful animal, an elder brother, of a fair estate, and her kinsman, newly come up to town, whom her ladyship has undertaken to polish and make a fine gentleman.

Val. "Tis such a fulsome overgrown rogue! yet hopes to be a fine spark, and a very courtly youth; he has

been this half year endeavouring at a shape, which he loves eating and drinking too well ever to attain to. The other, I'll warrant you, are the nimble Mr. Caper, and his polite companion, Mr. Saunter.

Good. She's never without a kennel of fools at her heels; and we may know as well when she is near, by the noise her coxcombs make, as we know when a certain spark of this town is at hand, by the new-fangled gingle of his coach. She comes and woe be to the wretch whom she first lights upon.

Enter Lady SQUEAMISH, Sir NOBLE CLUMSEY, MALAGENE, CAPER, and SAUNTER.

Lady Squ. Dear madam Goodvile, ten thousand happinesses wait on you! Fair madam Victoria, sweet charming Camilla, which way shall I express my service to you?-Cousin, your honour, your honour to the ladies.

Clum, Ladies, as low as knee can bend, or head can bow, I salute you all. And, gallants, I am your most humble, most obliged, and most devoted servant. That I learned at the end of an epistle dedicatory.

Good. Sir Noble Clumsey is too great a courtier. Clum. Yes, sir, I can compliment upon an occasion; my lady knows I am a pretty apt scholar.

Lady Squ. Gallants, you must pardon my cousin here, he is but as it were a novice yet, and has had little conversation but what I have had the honour to instruct him in.

Mal. But let me tell you, he is a man of parts, and one that I respect and honour. Pray, gentlemen, know my friend.

Val. Hark you, Malagene, how durst you venture hither, knowing that Goodvile and Truman care so little for your company?

Mal. O sir, your servant, your servant, sir; I