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sent to that; as sure as can be, I'll break the or praise thee! thou hast outwitted woman.match. But tell me, how couldst thou thus get into her Mel. Death and amazement !-Madam, upon | confidence!-Ha!-how ?-But was it her con my knees

trivance to persuade my Lady Plyant into this extravagant belief?

Mel. Ha, ha, ha! ay, a very fury; but I was most afraid of her violence at last-If you had not come as you did, I don't know what she might have attempted.

Lady P. Nay, nay, rise up; come, you shall see my good-nature. I know love is powerful, Mask. It was; and, to tell you the truth, I enand nobody can help his passion: 'tis not your couraged it for your diversion: though it makes fault, nor, I swear, it is not mine-How can I you a little uneasy for the present, yet the rehelp it, if I have charms? And how can you help flection of it must needs be entertaining-I warit, if you are made a captive? I swear it is pityrant she was very violent at first. it should be a fault-but my honour—- well, but your honour too- -but the sin-well, but the necessity- -O Lord, here's somebody coming; I dare not stay.- -Well, you must consider of your crime, and strive as much as can be against it-strive, be sure-but don't be melancholic; don't despair-but never think that I'll grant you any thing-O Lord, no-but be sure you lay aside all thoughts of the marriage; for though I know you don't love Cynthia, only as a blind for your passion to me, yet it will make me jealous-O Lord, what did I say!-Jealous! -no, no, I can't be jealous, for I must not love therefore don't hope-but don't despair neither-0, they're coming! I must fly. [Exit. Mel. After a pause.] So, then, spite of my care and foresight, I am caught, caught in my security. Yet this was but a shallow artifice, unworthy of my Machiavelian aunt. There must be more behind; this is but the first flash, the priming of her engine; destruction follows hard, if not most presently prevented.

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Enter MASKWell.

--Maskwell, welcome; thy presence is a view of land, appearing to my shipwreck'd hopes; the witch has raised the storm, and her ministers have done their work; you see the vessels are parted.

Mask. I know it; I met Sir Paul towing away Cynthia. Come, trouble not your head; I'll join you together ere to-morrow morning, or drown between you and the attempt.

Mel. There's comfort in a hand stretch'd out to one that's sinking, though never so far off.

Mask. No sinking, nor no danger Come, cheer up; why, you don't know that while I plead for you, your aunt has given me a retaining fee-nay, I am your greatest enemy, and she does but journey-work under me.

Mel. Ha!-how's this?

Mask. What do ye think of my being employ'd in the execution of all her plots?-Ha, ha, ha! by Heaven, 'tis true; I have undertaken to break the match; I have undertaken to make your uncle disinherit you, to get you turn'd out of doors, and to-ha, ha, ha! I cann't tell you for laughing- Oh, she has opened her heart to me-1 am to turn you a-grazing, and to-ha, ha, ha! marry Cynthia myself; there's a plot for you.

Mel. Ha!-I see, I see my rising sun! light breaks through clouds upon me, and I shall live in day, my Maskwell, how shall I thank

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Musk. Ha, ha, ha! I know her temper.—Well, you must know then, that all my contrivances were but bubbles; till at last I pretended to have been long secretly in love with Cynthia; that did my business; that convinced your aunt I might be trusted; since it was as much my interest as hers to break the match: then, she thought my jealousy might qualify me to assist her in her revenge; and, in short, in that belief told me the secrets of her heart. At length, we made this agreement; if I accomplish her designs, (as I told you before,) she has engaged to put Cynthia with all her fortune into my power.

Mel. She is most gracious in her favour.— Well, my dear Jack, how hast thou contrived?

Mask. I would not have you stay to hear it now, for I don't know but she may come this way; I am to meet her anon; after that, I'll tell you the whole matter: be here in this gallery an hour hence; by that time I imagine our consul tation may be over.

Mel. I will: till then, success attend thee. [Erit. Mask. Till then, success will attend me; for when I meet you, I meet the only obstacle to my fortune.-Cynthia, let thy beauty gild my crimes; and whatsoever I commit of treachery or deceit shall be imputed to me as a merit-Treachery! what treachery? Love cancels all the bonds of friendship, and sets men right upon their first foundations. Duty to kings, piety to parents, gratitude to benefactors, and fidelity to friends, are different and particular ties; but the name of rival cuts them all asunder, and is a general ac quittance-Rival is equal, and love, like death, an universal leveller of mankind.--Ha! but is there no such thing as honesty? Yes; and whosoever has it about him, bears an enemy in his breast; for your honest man, as I take it, is that nice, scrupulous, conscientious person, who will cheat nobody but himself; such another coxcomb as your wise man, who is too hard for all the world, and will be made a fool of by nobody but himself.-Ha, ha, ha! well, for wisdom and honesty, give me cunning and hypocrisy-Oh, 'tis such a pleasure to angle for fair-faced fools!Then that hungry gudgeon Credulity will bite at any thing-Why, let me see, I have the same face, the same words and actions, when I speak what I do think, and when I speak what I do not

think the very same-and dear dissimulation is the only art not to be known from nature. Why will mankind be fools, and be deceived? And why are friends' and lovers' oaths believed?

When each who searches strictly his own mind, May so much fraud and power of baseness find. [Exit.

SCENE I.

ACT III.

Enter Lord TOUCHWOOD and Lady TOUCH

WOOD.

Lady T. My lord, can you blame my brother Plyant, if he refuse his daughter upon this provocation? The contract is void by this unheardof impiety.

Ld T. I do not believe it true; he has better principles pho, it is nonsense. Come, come, I know my Lady Plyant has a large eye, and would centre every thing in her own circle; it is not the first time she has mistaken respect for love, and made Sir Paul jealous of the civility of an undesigning person, the better to bespeak her security in her unfeigned pleasures.

told me, madam? You can have no interest wherein I am not concerned, and consequently the same reasons ought to be convincing to me, which create your satisfaction or disquiet.

Lady T. But those which cause my disquiet I am willing to have remote from your hearing. Good my lord, don't press me.

Ld T. Don't oblige me to press you.

Lady T. Whatever it was, it is past; and that is better to be unknown which cannot be prevented; therefore, let me beg you to rest satisfied.

Ld T. When you have told me, I will.
Lady T. You won't.

Ld T. By my life, my dear, I will.
Lady T. What if you cannot.

Ld T. How? Then I must know; nay, I will.

Lady T. You censure hardly, my lord; my sis--No more trifling-I charge you to tell me ter's honour is very well known. By all our mutual peace to come; upon your duty

Ld T. Yes, I believe I know some that have been familiarly acquainted with it. This is a little trick wrought by some pitiful contriver, envious of my nephew's merit.

Lady T. Nay, my lord, it may be so, and I hope it will be found so: but that will require some time; for, in such a case as this, demonstration is necessary.

Ld T. There should have been demonstration of the contrary too before it had been believed— Lady T. So I suppose there was. Ld T. How? Where? When?

Lady T. That I cann't tell; nay, I don't say there was-I am willing to believe as favourably of my nephew as I can.

La T. I do not know that. [Half aside. Lady T. How? Don't you believe that, say you, my lord?

Ld T. No, I don't say so-I confess I am troubled to find you so cold in his defence.

Lady T. His defence! Bless me, would you have me defend an ill thing?

Ld T. You believe it then?

Lady T. I don't know; I am very unwilling to speak my thoughts in any thing that may be to my cousin's disadvantage; besides, I find, my lord, you are prepared to receive an ill impression from any opinion of mine which is not consenting with your own: but, since I am like to be suspected in the end, and it is a pain any longer to dissemble, I own it to you; in short, I do believe it, nay, and can believe any thing worse, if it were laid to his charge-Don't ask me my reasons, my lord, for they are not fit to be told you.

Ld T. I am amazed! Here must be something more than ordinary in this. [Aside.] Not fit to be

Lady T. Nay, my lord, you need say no more to make me lay my heart before you, but don't be thus transported; compose yourself; it is not of concern to make you lose one minute's temper; 'tis not, indeed, my dear.-Nay, by this kiss, you sha'n't be angry. O lord, I wish I had not told you any thing- -Indeed, my lord, you have frighted me. Nay, look pleased-I'll tell you. Ld T. Well, well. -In

Lady T. Nay, but will you be calm ?deed it is nothing but

Ld T. But what?

Lady T. But will you promise me not to be angry-Nay, you must not to be angry with Mellefont-I dare swear he's sorry-and, were it to do again, would not

Ld T. Sorry for what? 'Sdeath! you rack me with delay.

Lady T. Nay, no great matter, only-Well, I have your promise-pho! why nothing, only your nephew had a mind to amuse himself sometime's with a little gallantry towards me. Nay, I cann't think he meant any thing seriously, but methought it looked oddly.

Ld T. Confusion and hell, what do I hear!

Lady T. Or, may be, he thought he was not enough a-kin to me upon your account, and had a mind to create a nearer relation on his own: A lover, you know, my lord-ha, ha, ha! Well, but that's all-Now you have it!-Well, remem ber your promise, my lord, and don't take any notice of it to him.

Ld T. No, no, no-Damnation!

Lady T. Nay, I swear you must not-a little harmless mirth-only misplaced, that's all.—But

if it were more, 'tis over now, and all is well. For my part, I have forgot it; and so has he, I hope for I have not heard any thing from him these two days.

Ld T. These two days! Is it so fresh? Unnatural villain! 'Death, I'll have him stripped and turned naked out of my doors this moment, and let him rot and perish, incestuous brute!

Lady T. Oh, for heaven's sake, my lord, you'll ruin me if you take such public notice of it, it will be a town-talk: consider your own and my honour-Nay, I told you, you would not be satisfied when you knew it.

Ld T. Before I've done I will be satisfied.Ungrateful monster! How long?

Lady T. Lord, I don't know-I wish my lips had grown together when I told you-Almost a twelvemonth-Nay, I won't tell you any more till you are yourself. Pray, my lord, don't let the company see you in this disorder-Yet, I confess, I cannot blame you; for I think I was never so surprised in my life-Who would have thought my nephew could have so misconstrued my kindness-But will you go into your closet, and recover your temper? I'll make an excuse of sudden business to the company, and come to you.— Pray, good, dear my lord, let me beg you do now: I'll come immediately, and tell you all-Will you, my lord?

Ld T. I will-I am mute with wonder. Lady T. Well, but go now, here is somebody coming.

Ld T. Well, I go--You won't stay, for I would hear more of this. [Exit.

Lady T. I follow instantly-So.

Enter MASKWELL.

Mask. This was a master-piece, and did not need my help, though I stood ready for a cue to come in and confirm all, had there been occasion.

Lady T. Have you seen Mellefont? Mask. I have; and am to meet him here about this time.

Lady T. How does he bear his disappointment?

Mask. Secure in my assistance, he seemed not much afflicted, but rather laughed at the shallow artifice, which so little time must of necessity discover. Yet he is apprehensive of some farther design of your's, and has engaged me to watch you. I believe he will hardly be able to prevent your plot, yet I would have you use caution and expedition.

Lady T. Expedition indeed; for all we do must be performed in the remaining part of this evening, and before the company break up, lest my lord should cool, and have an opportunity to talk with him privately-My lord must not see him again.

Musk. By no means; therefore you must aggravate my lord's displeasure to a degree that will admit of no conference with him.- -What think you of mentioning me?

Lady T. How?

Mask. To my lord, as having been privy to Mellefont's design upon you, but still using my utmost endeavours to dissuade him, though my friendship and love to him has made me conceal it; yet you may say, I threatened, the next time he attempted any thing of that kind, to discover it to my lord.

Lady T. To what end is this?

Mask. It will confirm my lord's opinion of my honour and honesty, and create in him a new confidence in me, which (should this design miscarry) will be necessary to the forming another plot that I have in my head-to cheat you as well as the rest.

[Aside.

Lady T. I'll do it-I'll tell him you hindered him once from forcing me.

Mask. Excellent! your ladyship has a most improving fancy. You had best go to my lord, keep him as long as you can in his closet, and I doubt not but you will mould him to what you please; your guests are so engaged in their own follies and intrigues, they'll miss neither of you.

Lady T. When shall we meet? At eight this evening in my chamber; there rejoice at our suc cess, and toy away an hour in mirth. [Exit. Mask. I will not fail.I know what she means by toying away an hour well enough.Pox, I have lost all my appetite to her; yet she's a fine woman, and I loved her once. But I don't know, since I have been in a great measure kept by her, the case is altered; what was my pleasure is become my duty: and I have as little stomach to her now as if I were her husband.Should she smoke my design upon Cynthia, I were in a fine pickle. She has a damned penc trating head, and knows how to interpret a coldness the right way; therefore I must dissemble. ardour and ecstacy, that's resolved: How easily and pleasantly is that dissembled before fruition! Pox on it, that a man cann't drink without quenching his thirst. Ha! yonder comes Mellefont thoughtful. Let me think :-Meet her at eight-hum-ha!-by heaven I have it-If I can speak to my lord before-Was it my brain or providence? no matter which I will deceive them all, and yet secure myself: 'twas a lucky thought! Well, this double-dealing is a jewel.Here he comes; now for me

[MASKWELL, pretending not to see him, walks by him, and speaks, as it were, to himself. Enter MELLEFOnt, musing. Mask. Mercy on us! what will the wickedness of this world come to!

Mel. How now, Jack? What, so full of contemplation that you run over!

Mask. I'm glad you are come, for I could not contain myself any longer, and was just going to give vent to a secret, which nobody but you ought to drink down.- -Your aunt is just gone from hence.

Mel. And having trusted thee with the secrets of her soul, thou art villainously bent to discover them all to me, ha?

Mask. I am afraid my frailty leans that way—.

But I don't know whether I can in honour discover them all.

Mel. All, all, man. What, you may in honour betray her as far as she betrays herself. No tragical design upon my person, I hope?

Mask. No, but it is a comical design upon mine.
Mel. What dost thou mean?

Mask. Listen and be dumb.-We have been bargaining about the rate of your ruin————— Met. Like any two guardians to an orphan heiress-Well!

Mask. And whereas pleasure is generally paid with mischief, what mischief I do is to be paid with pleasure.

Mel. So, when you've swallowed the potion, you sweeten your mouth with a plumb.

Mask. You are merry, sir, but I shall probe your constitution. In short, the price of your banishment is to be paid with the person ofMel. Of Cynthia, and her fortune-Why you forget you told me this before.

Mask. No, no, so far you are right; and I am, as an earnest of that bargain, to have full and free possession of the person of-your aunt.

Met. Ha!-Pho! you trifle.

Mask. By this light, I am serious; all raillery apart-I knew 'twould stun you:-This evening at eight she will receive me in her bed-chamber.

Mel. Hell and the devil! is she abandoned of all grace-Why, the woman is possessed.

Mask. Well, will you go in my stead? Mel. By heaven, into a hot furnace sooner. Mask. No, you would not-it would not be so convenient as I can order matters.

Mel. What do you mean?

Mask. Mean! not to disappoint the lady, I assure you————Ha, ha, ha! how gravely he looks -Come, come, I won't perplex you. 'Tis the only thing that Providence could have contrived to make me capable of serving you, either to my inclination or your own necessity.

Mel. How, how, for heaven's sake, dear Maskwell?

Mask. Why thus-I'll go according to appointment; you shall have notice at the critical minute to come and surprise your aunt and me together; counterfeit a rage against me, and I will make my escape through the private passage from her chamber, which I'll take care to leave open; 'twill be hard, if then you cann't bring her to any conditions. For this discovery will disarm her of all defence, and leave her entirely at your mercy; nay, she must ever after be in awe of you.

Mel. Let me adore thee, my better genius! By heaven I think it is not in the power of Fate to disappoint my hopes My hopes, my certainty!

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Plyant's coming, and I shall never succeed while thou art in sight-Though she begins to tack about; but I made love a great while to no purpose.

Mel. Why, what's the matter? She is convinced that I don't care for her.

Care. I cannot get an answer from her that does not begin with her honour, or her virtue, her religion, or some such cant. Then she has told me the whole story of St Paul's nine years courtship; how he has lain for whole nights together upon the stairs before her chamber-door; and that the first favour he received from her was a piece of an old scarlet petticoat for a stomacher; which, since the day of his marriage, he has, out of a piece of gallantry, converted into a nightcap, and wears it still with much solemnity on his anniversary wedding-night.

Met. That I have seen, with the ceremony thereunto belonging-For on that night he creeps in at the bed's feet, like a gulled Bassa that has married a relation of the Grand Signior, and that night he has his arms at liberty. Did she not tell you at what a distance she keeps him? He has confessed to me, that but at some certain times, that is, I suppose, when she apprehends being with child, he never has the privilege of using the familiarity of a husband with a wife. He was once given to scrambling with his hands, and sprawling in his sleep, and ever since she has swaddled him up in blankets, and his hands and feet swathed down, and so put to bed; and there he lies with a great beard, like a Russian bear upon a drift of snow. You are very great with him-I wonder he never told you his grievances; he will, I warrant you.

Care. Excessively foolish!But that which gives me most hopes of her, is her telling me of the many temptations she has resisted.

Mel. Nay, then you have her; for a woman's bragging to a man that she has overcome tempta tions, is an argument that they were weakly offered, and a challenge to him to engage her more irresistibly. 'Tis only enhancing the price of the commodity, by telling you how many customers have underbid her.

Care. Nay, I don't despair-But still she has a grudging to you—I talked to her t'other night at my Lord Froth's masquerade, when I am satisfied she knew me, and I had no reason to complain of my reception; but I find women are not the same bare-faced and in masks-and a vizor disguises their inclinations as much as their faces.

Mel. 'Tis a mistake; for women may most properly be said to be unmasked when they wear vizors; for that secures them from blushing, and being out of countenance; and, next to being in the dark, or alone, they are most truly themselves in a vizor-mask. Here they come. I'll leave you.* Ply her close, and by and by clap a billet-dour into her hand: for a woman never thinks a man truly in love with her till he has been fool enough to think of her out of her sight, and to lose so Care. Mellefont, get out of the way; my Lady much time as to write to her. [Exit.

Mask. Well, I'll meet you here within a quarter of eight, and give you notice. [Exit. Mel. Good fortune ever go along with thee.

Enter CARELESS.

Enter Sir PAUL and Lady PLYANT. Sir P. Sha'n't we disturb your meditation, Mr Careless? You would be in private ?

Cure. You bring that along with you, Sir Paul, that shall be always welcome to my privacy.

Sir P. O, sweet sir, you load your humble servants, both me and my wife, with continual fa

vours.

Lady P. Sir Paul, what a phrase was there! You will be making answers, and taking that upon you which ought to lie upon me: that you should have so little breeding to think Mr Careless did not apply himself to me! Pray, what have you to entertain any body's privacy? I swear and declare, in the face of the world, I'm ready to blush for your ignorance.

Sir P. I acquiesce, my lady; but don't snub so loud. [Aside to her. Lady P. Mr Careless, if a person that is wholly illiterate might be supposed to be capable of being qualified to make a suitable return to those obligations which you are pleased to confer upon one that is wholly incapable of being qualified in all those circumstances, I am sure I should rather attempt it than any thing in the world, [Curtsies.] for I'm sure there's nothing in the world that I would rather. [Curtsies.] But I know Mr Careless is so great a critic, and so fine a gentleman, that it is impossible for me

Care. O heavens! Madam, you confound me. Sir P. Gads-bud! she's a fine person Lady P. O Lord, sir, pardon me! we women have not those advantages: I know my own imperfections-but at the same time you must give me leave to declare, in the face of the world, that nobody is more sensible of favours and things; for, with the reserve of my honour, I assure you, Mr Careless, I don't know any thing in the world I would refuse to a person so meritoriousYou'll pardon my want of expression.

Care. O, your ladyship is abounding in all excellence, particularly that of phrase. Lady P. You are so obliging, sir. Care. Your ladyship is so charming. Sir P. So, now, now; now, my lady. Lady P. So well bred.

Care. So surprising.

Lady P. So well drest, so bonne mien, so cloquent, so unaffected, so easy, so free, so particular, so agrecable

Sir P. Ay, so, so, there.

Care. O lord, I beseech you, madam, don'tLady P. So gay, so graceful, so good teeth, so fine shape, so fine limbs, so fine linen, and I don't doubt but you have a very good skin, sir.

Care. For heaven's sake, madam-I am quite out of countenance.

Sir P. And my lady's quite out of breath; or else you should hear-Gads-bud, you may talk of my Lady Froth

Care. O fy, fy! not to be named of a day-My Lady Froth is very well in her accomplishments

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Sir P. Nay, I swear and vow that was pretty. Care. O, Sir Paul, you are the happiest man alive Such a lady! that is the envy of her own sex, and the admiration of ours.

Sir P. Your humble servant! I am, I thank Heaven, in a fine way of living, as I may say, peacefully and happily, and I think need not envy any of my neighbours, blessed be Providence! -Ay, truly, Mr Careless, my lady is a great blessing, a fine, discreet, well-spoken woman as you shall see if it becomes me to say so; and we live very comfortably together; she is a little hasty sometimes, and so am I; but mine's soon over, and then I am sorry-O, Mr Careless, if so it were not for one thing

Enter Boy with a Letter.

Lady P. How often have you been told of that, you jackanapes?

Sir P. Gad so, gad's-bud- -Tim, carry it to my lady; you should have carried it to my lady first.

Boy. 'Tis directed to your worship. Sir P. Well, well, my lady reads all letters first-Child, do so no more: D'ye hear, Tim? Boy. No, and please you. [Exit.

Sir P. A humour of my wife's; you know women have little fancies- -But, as I was telling you, Mr Careless, if it were not for one thing, I should think myself the happiest man in the world; indeed that touches me near, very near. Care. What can that be, Sir Paul?

Sir P. Why, I have, I thank Heaven, a very plentiful fortune, a good estate in the country, some houses in town, and some money, a pretty tolerable personal estate; and it is a great grief to me, indeed it is, Mr Careless, that I have not a son to inherit this. 'Tis true, I have a daughter, and a fine dutiful child she is, though I say it, blessed be Providence I may say; for indeed, Mr Careless, I am mightily beholden to Providence-A poor unworthy sinner-But if I had a son, ah! that's my affliction, and my only afflic tion; indeed, I cannot refrain tears when it comes into my mind.

[Cries.

Care. Why, methinks that might be easily remedied; my lady is a fine likely woman.

Sir P. Oh, a fine likely woman as you shall see in a summer's day-Indeed she is, Mr Careless, in all respects.

Cure. And I should not have taken you to have been so old

Sir P. Alas! that's not it, Mr Careless: ah! that's not it; no, no, you shoot wide of the mark a mile; indeed you do: that's not it, Mr Careless; no, no, that's not it.

Care. No! what can be the matter then? Sir P. You'll scarcely believe me when I shall tell you-my lady is so nice!-It is very strange,

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