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Clum. Ay, so say I, hang sobriety-drink, whore, rant, roar, swear, make a noise, and all that: but be honest, dost hear, be honest.

Tru. I would very fain be so if I could; but the damned billet this morning won't out of my head. Well, madam Goodvile, if any mischief comes on't, 'tis your own fault, not mine. I did not strike first, and there's an end on't. [Music within.

Enter LETTICE.

Let. Sir, the fiddles are ready, and the ladies desire your company. Mr. Truman, my lady wants you. Tru. Say'st thou so? I thank thee for thy news with all my heart. The devil I see will get the better on't, and there is no resisting.

Let. Sir Noble, my lady Squeamish sent me to tell you she wants your company to dance.

Clum. Tell her I am busy about a grand affair of the nation, and cannot come.-Dance! I look like a dancer indeed! but these women will be always putting us on more than we can do- -Boy, give me more wine. Good. Malagene, remember, and use expedition.

[Ex. Good. Trum. Val. Lettice. Clum. Sirrah, do you know me? I am a knight; and here's a health to all the whores in christendom.

Mal. Not forgetting all the ladies within. Now we are alone I may talk. [Drinks.

Clum. So, there's for you, do you see? [Breaksa glass Sirrah, don't you look scurvily; I have money in my pocket, you must know that.-Bring us more wine.Malagene, thou art a pretty fellow; dost thou love me? Give me thy hand: I will salute thy under lip.

[Staggers. Mal. Ha, what's the meaning of this? I doubt I shall almost be drunk as soon as the knight. Sir Noble canst thou whore?

Clum. How, whore! what a question's there! thou shalt be my pimp, and I'll prefer thee.

Mal. What a rascal this knight is! I have known as

worthy a person as himself a pimp, and one that thought it no blemish to his honour neither.

Enter Lady SQUEAMISH at the Door.

[Aside.

Clum. Hab, my lady cousin!--Faith, madan, you see I am at it.

Mal. The devil's in it, I think; we could no sooner talk of whores, but she must come in, with a pox to her. Madam, your ladyship's most humble servant.

Lady Squ. Oh, odious! insufferable! who would have thought, cousin, you would have served me so ?--fough, how he stinks of wine! I can smell him hither.How have you the patience to hear the noise of fiddles, and spend your time in nasty drinking?

Clum. Hum! 'tis a good creature: lovely lady, thou shalt take thy glass.

Lady Squ. Uh gud; murder! I had rather you had offered me a toad.

Clum. Then Malagene, here's a health to my lady cousin's Pelion upon Ossa.

[Drinks, and breaks the glass. Lady Squ. Lord, dear Mr. Malagene, what's that? Mal. A certain place, madam, in Greece, much talked of by the ancients; the noble gentleman is well read. Lady Squ. Nay, he is an ingenious person, I'll assure

you.

Clum. Now, lady bright, I am wholly thy slave: give me thy hand, I'll go straight and begin my grandmother's kissing dance; but first deign me the private honour of thy lip.

Lady Squ. Nay, fy, sir Noble! how I hate you now! for shame! be not so rude: I swear you are quite spoiled. Get you gone, you good-natured toad you.

[Exeunt,

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Enter GOODVILE, a little heated.

Good. What a damned chicken-brained fellow am I grown! If I but dip my bill I am giddy. Now am I as hot-headed with my bare two bottles, as a drunken 'prentice on a holiday. Truman marries Victoria, that's resolved on; and so one care is over. But then Camilla! how shall I get possession of her?- -Well, my mind misgives me, I shall do something may call my discretion in question; and yet I can't avoid it. Camilla I do love, and must have her, come what will on't; and no time so fit to begin the enterprize as this; she may make a good wife for Valentine for all that,

Enter TRUMAN and VALENTINE. Music.

Fy, gentlemen, without the ladies! did you quit champaign for this? Faith I begin to despair of you, and doubt you are grown as weak lovers as drinkers.

Tru. Goodvile, thou hast no conscience; a decayed cavalier captain, that drinks journey-work under a deputy-lieutenant in the country, is not able to keep thee company. Two bottles, as I take it, is no such

trifling matter.

Good. Oh but I hate to be baulked; and a friend that leaves me at two bottles, is as unkind as a mistress that jilts me when I thought I had made sure of the business. But, gallants, how stand the affairs of love? Truman, is Victoria kind? I question not your friendship in the matter, but trust the honour of my family in your hands.

Val. He little thinks Truman is informed of all, and no longer a stranger on what score he is so wondrous

civil. But I am mistaken if he be behind with him in kindness long.

[Aside. Tru. A pox on't, I am afraid this marriage will never agree with me; methinks the very thought on't goes a little against my stomach. Like a young thief, though I have some itching to be at it, yet I am loth to venture what may follow.

Good. Well, I'll go in and better prepare Victoria : in the mean time, believe it only my ambition to be as well allied in blood, as friendship, to so good and generous a person as Truman. [Exit. Tru. What a damned creature man is! Valentine, didst thou believe this fellow could be a villain?

Val. I must confess it something surprizes me; he might have found out a fitter person to put his mistress upon, than his friend. But how the devil got you the knowledge of it?

Tru. Faith I'll tell thee; for I think I am no way obliged to conceal it--his wife, even his very wife told me all.

Val. I begin to suspect that Mrs. Goodvile has no ill opinion of you; I observed something but now, very obliging towards you: besides, when a woman begins to betray her husband's secrets, 'tis a certain sign she has a mind to communicate very important ones of her own.

Tru. Valentine, no more of that; though it would be a rare revenge to make a cuckold of this smiling rogue. Val. 'Tis fifty times better than cutting his throat; that were to do him more honour than he deserves.

Enter MALAGENE.

Mal. Ha, ha, ha! the rarest sport- -Jack Truman, Ned Valentine.

Tru. Why, what's the matter? Where?

Mal. Yonder's my rogue of a knight, as drunk as a porter; and faith, Jack, I am but little better. Val. Dear sir, and what of all this?

Mal. Why, with a bottle under his arm, and a beerglass in his hand, I set him full drive at my lady Squeamish; for nothing else but to make mischief, Ned-nothing else in the world; for every body knows I am the worst-natured fellow breathing: 'tis my way of wit.

Val. Do you love nobody then?

Mal. No, not I; yes, a pox on't, I love you well enough, because you are a rogue I have known a good while. Though should I take the least prejudice against you, I could not afford you a good word behind your back for my heart.

Tru. Sir, we are much obliged to you: 'tis a sign the rogue is drunk that he speaks truth.

Mal. I tell you what I did t'other day: faith 'tis as good a jest as ever you heard.

Val. Pray, sir, do.

Mal. Why, walking alone, a lame fellow followed me, and asked my charity, (which, by the way, was a pretty proposition to me). Being in one of my witty merry fits, I asked him how long he had been in that condition? The poor fellow shook his head, and told me he was born so. But how d'ye think I served him? Val. Nay, the devil knows.

Mal. I showed my parts, I think; for I tripped up both his wooden legs, and walked off gravely about my business.

Tru. And this you say is your way of wit?

Mal. Ay altogether, this and mimickry. I'm a very good mimick: I can act Punchinello, Scaramouchio, Harlequin, prince Prettyman, or any thing. I can act the rumbling of a wheelbarrow.

Val. The rumbling of a wheelbarrow!

Mal. Ay, the rumbling of a wheelbarrow, so I sayNay, more than that, I can act a sow and pigs, sausages a-broiling, a shoulder of mutton a-roasting: I can act a fly in a honey-pot.

Tru. That indeed must be the effect of very curious observation.

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