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carrying me to Ireland; for he made me go by a dirty place like a lough now; and therefore I know now it was the way to Ireland. Then I would stand still, and then he would make me go on; and then I would go to one side, and he would make me go to t'other side; and then I got a little farther, and did run then; and upon my shoul the devil could not catch me; and then I did pay the money: but I will carry no money, that I will not.

Care. But thou shalt, Teague, when I have more to send; thou art proof now against temptation.

Teague. Well, then, if you send me with money again, and if I do not come to thee upon the time, the devil will make me be gone then with the money.-Here's a paper for thee; 'tis a quit way indeed.

Care. That's well said, Teague.—

[Reads.

Enter Mr DAY, OBADIAH, and Soldiers. Ob. See, sir, Providence hath directed us; there is one of them that clothed me with shame, and the most malignant amongst the wicked.

Mr Day. Soldiers, seize him. I charge him with treason! Here's a warrant to the keeper, as I told you.

1st Sol. Nay, no resistance.

Care. What's the matter, rascals?

Mr Day. You shall know that, to your cost, hereafter.-Away with him.

Care. Teague, tell 'em I shall not come home to-night. I am engag'd.

Teague. I pr'ythee ben't engag'd. Care. Gentlemen, I am guilty of nothing, that I know of.

Mr Day. That will appear, sir.-Away with him.

Teague. What will you do with my master

now?

Mr Day. Be quiet, sir, or you shall go with him.
Teague. That I will, for all you, you old fool.
Care. Teague, come hither.
Teague. Sir?

Cure. Here, take this key, open my bureau, and burn all the papers you find there; and here, burn this letter.

Teague. Pray, give me that pretty, clean letter, to send to my mother.

Care. No, no; be sure to do as I tell you. Mr Day. Away with him. We will be aveng'd on the scorner; and I'll go home, and tell my duck this part of my good fortune. [Exeunt. Enter Chairmen, with Sedans; Women come out. Ruth. So far we are right.-Now, honest fellow, step over, and tell the two gentlemen, that we two women desire to speak with them.

Enter Colonel BLUNT and Lieutenant. Chair. See, mistress, here's one of them. Ruth. That's thy colonel, Arbella; catch him quickly, or he'll fly again.

Arb. What should I do?
VOL. III.

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Blunt. Lady?-'Tis she.

Arb. I wish, sir, that my friend and I had some conveniency of speaking to you; we now want the assistance of some noble friend.

Blunt. Then I am happy :-Bring me but to do something for you. I would have my actions talk, not I. My friend will be here immediately; I dare speak for him too-Pardon my last confusion; but what I told you was as true as if I had staid

Ruth. To make affidavit of it. Blunt. Good, over-charg'd gentlewoman, spare me but a little.

Arb. Pr'ythee, peace. Canst thou be merry, and we in this condition?-Sir, I do believe you noble, truly worthy. If we might withdraw any whither out of sight, I would acquaint you with

the business.

Lieu. My house, ladies, is at that door, where both the colonels lodge. Pray, command it. Colonel Careless will immediately be here.

Enter TEAGUE.

Teague. He will not come: that commit rogue Tay has got him, with men in red coats, and he is gone to prison here, below this street. He would not let me go with him, i'faith, but made me come till thee now.

Ruth. O, my heart!-Tears, by your leave, a while. [Wipes her eyes.]-D'ye hear, Arbella; here, take all the trinkets, only the bait that I'll use accept of this gentleman's house; there let me find thee: I'll try my skill-Nay, talk not.

[Exit.

Blunt. Careless in prison! Pardon me, madam; I must leave you for a little while: pray be confident; this honest friend of mine will use you with all respects till I return.

Arb. What do you mean to do, sir?

Blunt. I cannot tell: yet I must attempt something. You shall have a sudden account of all things. You say you dare believe: pray be as good as your word: and whatever accident befals me, know I love you dearly. Why do you weep?

Arb. Do not run yourself into a needless danger.

Biunt. How! d'ye weep for me? Pray let me see. Never woman did so before, that I know of. I am ravish'd with it. The round

gaping earth ne'er suck'd showers so greedily as my heart drinks these. Pray, if you love me, be but so good and kind as to confess it.

Arb. Do not ask what you may tell yourself, Blunt. I must go; honour and friendship call me. Here, dear lieutenant; I never had a jewel but this; use it as right ones should be used; do not breathe upon it, but gaze, as I do— hold-one word more. The soldier that you often talk'd of to me is still honest?

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Enter RUTH, with a Soldier. Ruth. Come, give me the bundle:-so; now the habit.-'Tis well: there's for your pains. Be secret, and wait where I appointed you.

Sol. If I fail, may I die in a ditch. [Exit. Ruth. Now for my wild colonel. First, here's a note, with my Lady Day's seal to it, for his release; if that fails, (as he that shoots at these rascals must have two strings to his bow,) then here's my red-coat's skin, to disguise him, and a string, to draw up a ladder of cords, which I have prepared against it grows dark. One of them will hit, sure. I must have him out; and I must have him, when he is out. I have no patience to expect.—Within there—ho !—

Enter Keeper.

Ruth. Have not you a prisoner, sir, in your custody; one Colonel Carcless?

Keep. Yes, mistress; and committed by your father, Mr Day.

Ruth. I know it; but there was a mistake in it. Here's a warrant for his delivery, under his hand and seal.

Keep. I would willingly obey it, mistress; but there's a general order come from above, that all the king's party should be kept close, and none releas'd, but by the state's order.

Ruth. This goes ill.-May I speak with him, sir?

Keep. Very freely, mistress: there's no order to forbid any to come to him. To say truth, 'tis the most pleasantest gentleman-I'll call him forth. [Exit. Ruth. O' my conscience, every thing must be in love with him. Now for my last hopes; if this fail, I'll use the ropes myself.

Enter Keeper and CARELESS. Care. Mr Day's daughter speak with me? Keep. Ay, sir, there she is."

[Exit. Ruth. O, sir, does the name of Mr Day's daughter trouble you? You love the gentlewoman, but hate his daughter.

Care. Yes, I do love the gentlewoman you speak of most exceedingly.

Ruth. And the gentlewoman loves you. But what luck this is, that Day's daughter should ever be with her, to spoil all!

Care. Not a whit, one way: I have a pretty room within, dark, and convenient.

Ruth. For what?

Care. For you and I to give counter-security for our kindness to one another.

too.

Ruth. But Mr Day's daughter will be there

Care. 'Tis dark; we'll ne'er see her. Ruth. You care not who you are wicked with. Methinks a prison should tame you.

Care. Why, d'ye think a prison takes away blood and sight? As long as I am so qualified, I am touch-wood; and whenever you bring fire, I shall fall a-burning.

Ruth. And you would quench it. Care. And you shall kindle it again. Ruth. No, you will be burnt out at last, burnt to a coal, black as dishonest love.

Care. Is this your business? Did you come to disturb my contemplations with a sermon? Is

this all?

Ruth. One thing more-I love you, it's true; but I love you honestly. If you know how to love me virtuously, I'll free you from prison, and run all fortunes with you.

Care. Yes, I could love thee all manner of ways; if I could not, freedom were no bait; were it from death, I should despise your offer, to bargain for a lie-But

Ruth. Oh, noble !-But what?

Care. The name of that rascal that got thee. Yet I lie too; he ne'er got a limb of thee. Pox on't, thy mother was as unlucky to bear thee. But how shall we salve that? Take off but these encumbrances, and I'll purchase thee in thy smock; but to have such a flaw in my titleRuth. Can I help nature?

Cure. Or I honour? Why, hark you, now; do but swear me into a pretence; do but betray me with an oath, that thou wert not begot on the body of Gillian, my father's kitchen-maid. Ruth. Who's that?

Care. Why, the honourable Mrs Day, that now is.

Ruth. Will you believe me, if I swear? Care. Ay, that I will, though I know all the while 'tis not true.

Ruth. I swear, then, by all that's good, I am not their daughter.

Care. Poor, kind, perjured, pretty one, I am be holden to thee. Wouldst damn thyself for me?

Ruth. You are mistaken. I have try'd you fully. You are noble, and I hope you love me. Be ever firm to virtuous principles. My name is not so godly a one as Ruth, but plain Anne, daughter to Sir Basil Thoroughgood; one, perhaps, that you have heard of, since in the world he has still had so loud and fair a character. 'Tis too long to tell you how this Day got me, an infant, and my estate into his power, and made me pass for his own daughter, my father dying when I was but two years old. This I knew but lately, by an unexpected meeting of an ancient servant of my father's. But, two hours since, Arbella and I found an opportunity of stealing away all the writings that belong'd to my estate,

and her composition. In our flight, we met your friend, with whom I left her, as soon as I had intelligence of your misfortune, to try to get your liberty; which if I can do, you have your estate, for I have mine.

Care. Thou more than

Ruth. No, no, no raptures at this time. Here's your disguise, purchas'd from a true-hearted redcoat. Here's a bundle. Let this line down when 'tis almost dark, and you shall draw up a ladder of ropes. If the ladder of ropes be done sooner, I'll send it by a soldier that I dare trust, and you may. Your window's large enough. As soon as you receive it, come down; if not, when 'tis dark, let down your line, and at the bottom of the window you shall find yours, more than her own, not Ruth, but Anne.

Care. I'll leap into thy arms

Ruth. So you may break your neck. If you do, I'll jump too. But time steals on our words -Observe all I have told you. So, farewell. Care. Nay, as the good fellows use to say, let us not part with dry lips-One kiss.

Ruth. Not a bit of me, 'till I am all yours. Care. Your hand, then, to shew I am grown reasonable. A poor compounder.

Ruth. Pish! there's a dirty glove upon't.Care. Give me but any naked part, and I'll kiss it as a snail creeps, and leave sign where my lips slid along

Ruth. Good snail, get out of your hole first: think of your business. So, fare

Care. Nay, pr'ythee be not asham'd that thou art loth to leave me. 'Slid! I am a man; but I'm as arrant a rogue as thy quondam father Day, if I could not cry to leave thee a brace of minutes. Ruth. Away; we grow foolish-farewell-yet be careful- Nay, go in.

Care. Do you go first. Ruth. Nay, fie, go in. Care. We'll fairly then divide the victory, and draw off together.-So-I will have the last look.

[Exeunt severally, looking at one another. Enter Colonel BLUNT and Soldier. Blunt. No more words. I do believe, nay, I know thou art honest, I may live to thank thee better,

Sol. I scorn any encouragement to love my king, or those that serve him. I took pay under these people with a design to do him service: the lieutenant knows it.

Blunt. He has told me so. No more words. Thou art a noble fellow.-Thou art sure his window's large enough?

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Enter TEAGUE.

Teague. Have you done every thing, then? By my shoul, now, yonder is the man with the hard name; that man, now, that I made drunk for thee; Mr Tay's rascal: he is coming along there behind; now, upon my shoul, that he is. Blunt. The rascal comes for some mischief. Teague, now or never play the man.

Teague. How should I be a man, then? Blunt. Thy master is never to be got out, if this rogue gets hither; meet him therefore, Teague, in the most winning manner thou canst, and make him once more drunk, and it shall be called the Second Edition of Obadiah, put forth with Irish notes upon him: and if he will not go drink with thee

Teague. I will carry him upon my back, if he will not go; and if he will not be drunk, I will cut his throat then, that I will, for my sweet master now, that I will.

Blunt. Dispatch, good Teague; and dispatch him too, if he will not be conformable; and if thou canst but once more be victorious, bring him in triumph to Lieutenant Story's; there shall be the general rendezvous. Now or never, Teague.

Teague. I warrant you I will get drink into his pate, or I will break it for him, that I will, I warrant you. He shall not come after you now.

Blunt. Good luck go with thee! [Exit TEAGUE.] The fellow's faithful and stout.-That fear's over. Now to my station. [Exit.

Colonel CARELESS, as in Prison. Cure. The time's almost come: how slow it flutters! My desires are better winged. How I long to counterfeit a faintness when I come to the bottom, and sink into the arms of this dear witty fair!-Ha, who's this?

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Care. O! this pretty she captain-general over my soul and body; the thought of her musters every faculty I have: she has sent the ropes, and stays for me: no dancer of the ropes ever slid down with that swiftness, or desire of haste, that I will make to thee,

it

[Exit.

Enter BLUNT, in his Soldier's coat. Blunt. All's quiet, and the coast clear; so far goes well that is the window: in this nook I'll stand, 'till I see him coming down. [Steps in. Colonel CARELESS above, in his Soldier's habit, lets down the ladder of ropes, and speaks. Care. I cannot see my north star, that I must

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Care. Two notable charging red-coats.
Ruth. As I live, my heart is at my mouth.
Care. Pr'ythee, let it come to thy lips, that I
may kiss it. What have you in your lap?

Ruth. The ladder of ropes.-How, in the name of wonder, got you hither?

Care. Why, I had the ladder of ropes, and came down by it.

Blunt. Then the mistake is plainer; 'twas I that sent the soldier with the ropes.

Ruth. What an escape was this! Come, let's lose no time; here's no place to explain matters in.

Care. I will stay to tell thee I shall never deserve thee.

you, this very Mrs Arbella; and I warrant Mrs
Ruth is not far off.

Mrs Day. Let me advise then, husband.
Mr Day. Do, good duck; I'll warrant 'em-
Mrs Day. You'll warrant, when I have done
the business.

Mr Day. I mean so, duck.

Mrs Day. Well! pray spare your meaning too. First, then, we'll go ourselves in person to this Story's house, and in the mean time send Abel for soldiers; and when he has brought the soldiers, let them stay at the door, and come up himself; and then, if fair means will not do, foul shall.

Mr Day. Excellent! well advised, sweet duck. Ah! let thee alone.-Be gone, Abel, and observe thy mother's directions. Remember the place.We'll be reveng'd for robbing us, and for all their tricks.

Abel. I shall perform it.

Mrs Day. Come along, neighbour, and shew us the best way; and by and by we shall have news from Obadiah, who is gone to give the other colonel's gaoler a double charge, to keep the wild youth close. Come, husband, let's hasten. -Mrs Chat, the state shall know what good service you have done.

Mrs Chat. I thank your honour. [Exeunt.

Enter ARBELLA and Lieutenant.

Lieu. Pray, madam, weep no more! spare your tears till you know they have miscarried.

Arb. 'Tis a woman, sir, that weeps: we want men's reasons, and their courage to practise with. Lieu. Look up, madam, and meet your unexpected joys!

Enter RUTH, Colonel CARELESS, and Colonel
BLUNT.

Arb. Oh, my dear friend! my dear, dear Ruth! Ruth. Tell me so when you have had me a lit- Care. Pray, none of these phlegmatic hugs. tle while.-Come, follow me; put on your plain-There, take your colonel :-my captain and I can est garb; not like a dancing-master, with your hug afresh every minute. toes out. Come along. [RUTH pulls their hats over their eyes.] Hang down your head, as if you wanted pay.-So. [Exeunt.

Enter Mr DAY, Mrs DAY, and Mrs CHAT. Mrs Day. Are you sure of this, neighbour Chat? Mrs Chat. I'm as sure of it as I am that I have a nose to my face.

Mrs Day. Is my

Mr Day. Ay! is my—

Mrs Day. You may give one leave, methinks, to ask out one question.-Is my daughter Ruth with her?

Mrs Chat. She was not when I saw Mrs Arbella last. I have not been so often at your honour's house, but that I know Mrs Arbella, the rich heiress, that Mr Abel was to have had, good gentleman, if he has his due. They never suspected me; for I used to buy things of my neighbour Story before she married the lieutenant; and stepping in to see Mrs Story, that now is, my neighbour Wishwell, that was, I saw, as I told

Ruth. When did we hug last, good soldier? Care. I have done nothing but hug thee in fancy, ever since you, Ruth, turn'd Annice.

Arb. You are welcome, sir. I cannot deny I shar'd in all your danger.

Lieu. If she had deny'd it, colonel, I would have betrayed her.

Blunt. I know not what to say, nor how to tell how dearly, how well-I love you.

Arb. Now, cann't I say I love him; yet I have a mind to tell him too.

Ruth. Keep't in, and choke yourself, or get the rising of the lights.

Arb. What shall I say?

Ruth. Say something, or he'll vanish.

Blunt. D'ye not believe I love you? or cann't you love me?-Not a word.-Could you— but

Arb. No more; I'll save you the labour of courtship, which should be too tedious to all plain and honest natures. It is enough; I know you. love me.

Blunt. Or may I perish whilst I am swearing it.

Enter 'Prentice,

Lieu. How now, Jack?

'Pren. O, master, undone! Here's Mr Day the committee-man, and his fierce wife, come into the shop. Mrs Chat brought them in, and they say they will come up :-they know that Mrs Arbella and their daughter Ruth are here. Deny 'em, if you dare, they say.

Lieu. Go down, boy, and tell 'em I am coming to'em. [Exit 'Prentice.] This pure jade, my neighbour Chat, has betrayed us. What shall I do? I warrant the rascal has soldiers at his heels.--I think I could help the colonels out at a back-door. Blunt. I'd die rather by my Arbella. Now, you shall see I love you.

Care. Nor will I, Charles, forsake you, Annice. Ruth. Come, be cheerful; I'll defend you all against the assaults of Captain Day and Major-general Day, his new drawn-up wife. Give me my ammunition,-[ToARBELLA] the papers, woman. So, if I do not rout 'em, fall on; let's all die together, and make no more graves but one.

Blunt. 'Slife! I love her now, for all she has jeer'd me so.

Ruth. Go fetch him in, lieutenant. [Exit Licu. tenant.] Stand you all drawn up as my reserveso-I for the forlorn hope.

Care. That we had Teague here, to quarrel with the female triumphing Day, whilst I threw the male Day out of the window! Hark, I hear the troop marching; I know the she Day's stamp, among the tramples of a regiment.

Arb. They come, wench; charge 'em bravely; I'll second thee with a volley.

Ruth. They'll not stand the first charge; fear not:-now the Day breaks.

Care. Would 'twere his neck were broke.

Enter Mr DAY and Mrs DAY.

Mrs Day. Ah ha! my fine runaways, have I found you? What, you think my husband's honour lives without intelligence. Marry, come up! Mr Day. My duck tells you how 'tis-WeMrs Day. Why, then, let your duck tell 'em how 'tis.-Yet, as I was saying, you shall perceive we abound in intelligence, else 'twere not for us to go about to keep the nation quiet-but if you, Mrs. Arbella, will deliver up what you have stolen, and submit, and return with us, and this ungracious Ruth

Ruth. Anne, if you please.

Mrs Day. Who gave you that name, pray? Ruth. My godfathers and godmothers :—on, forsooth; I can answer a leaf farther.

Mr Day, Duck, good duck, a word: I do not like this name Annice.

Mrs Day. You are ever in a fright, with a shrivell'd heart of your own.-Well, gentlewoman, you are merry.

Arb. As newly come out of our wardships.-II hope Mr Abel is well.

Mrs Day. Yes, he is well: you shall see him presently; yes, you shall see him.

Care. That is, with myrmidons.-Come, good Anne, no more delay; fall on.

Ruth. Then, before the furious Abel approaches, with his red-coats, who, perhaps, are now marching under the conduct of that expert captain in weighty matters, know, the articles of our treaty are only these:-this Arbella will keep her estate, and not marry Abel, but this gentleman; and I Anne, daughter to Sir Basil Thoroughgood, and not Ruth, as has been thought, have taken my own estate, together with this gentleman, for better for worse. We were modest, though thieves; only plundered our own.

Mrs Day. Yes, gentlewoman, you took something else, and that my husband can prove it may cost you your necks, if you do not submit. Ruth. Truth on't is, we did take something else.

Mrs Day. Oh! did you so?

Ruth. Pray give me leave to speak one word in private with my father Day.

Mr Day. Do so, do so: are you going to compound? Oh! 'tis father Day now! Ruth. D'ye hear, sir? how long is it since you have practised physic? [Takes him aside. Mr Day. Physic! what d'ye mean? Ruth. I mean physic.--Look ye, here's a small prescription of yours. D'ye know this hand-writing?

Mr Day. I am undone.

Ruth. Here's another, upon the same subject. This young one, I believe, came into this wicked world for want of your preventing dose; it will not be taken now neither. It seems your wenches are wilful; nay, I do not wonder to see 'em have more conscience than you have.

Mr Day. Peace, good Mrs Anne! I am undone, if you betray me.

Enter ABEL; goes to his Father.

Abel. The soldiers are come.

Mr Day. Go and send 'em away, Abel; here's no need, no need, now.

Mrs Day. Are the soldiers come, Abel? Abel. Yes, but my father biddeth me send them away.

Mr Day. No, not without your opinion, duck; but since they have but their own, I think, duck, if we were all friends—

Mrs Day. O! are you at your ifs again!-d'you think they shall make a fool of me, though they make an ass of you?-Call 'em up, Abel, if they will not submit; call up the soldiers, Abel.

Ruth. Why, your fierce honour shall know the business that makes the wise Mr Day inclinable to friendship.

Mr Day. Nay, good sweetheart, come, I pray let us be friends.

Mrs Day. How's this! What, am I not fit te be trusted now? Have you built your credit and reputation upon my counsel and labours, and am not fit now to be trusted?

Mr Day. Nay, good sweet duck, I confess I owe all to thy wisdom. Good gentlemen, persuade my duck that we may be all friends.

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