The Works of Aphra Behn, Vol. I (of 6)
by Aphra Behn
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All cry, a Captain, a Captain.

Hell. Look ye, Sir,'tis a clear Case.

Ped. Oh I am mad— if I refuse, my Life's in Danger— [Aside.] —Come— There's one motive induces me— take her— I shall now be free from the fear of her Honour; guard it you now, if you can, I have been a Slave to't long enough. [Gives her to him.

Will. Faith, Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a Woman's Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it.

Hell. Well said, Captain.

Ped. This was your Plot, Mistress, but I hope you have married one that will revenge my Quarrel to you— [To Valeria.

Val. There's no altering Destiny, Sir.

Ped. Sooner than a Woman's Will, therefore I forgive you all— and wish you may get my Father's Pardon as easily; which I fear.

Enter Blunt drest in a Spanish Habit, looking very ridiculously; his Man adjusting his Band.

Man. 'Tis very well, Sir.

Blunt. Well, Sir, 'dsheartlikins I tell you 'tis damnable ill, Sir— a Spanish Habit, good Lord! cou'd the Devil and my Taylor devise no other Punishment for me, but the Mode of a Nation I abominate?

Belv. What's the matter, Ned?

Blunt. Pray view me round, and judge— [Turns round.

Belv. I must confess thou art a kind of an odd Figure.

Blunt. In a Spanish Habit with a Vengeance! I had rather be in the Inquisition for Judaism, than in this Doublet and Breeches; a Pillory were an easy Collar to this, three Handfuls high; and these Shoes too are worse than the Stocks, with the Sole an Inch shorter than my Foot: In fine, Gentlemen, methinks I look altogether like a Bag of Bays stuff'd full of Fools Flesh.

Belv. Methinks 'tis well, and makes thee look en Cavalier: Come, Sir, settle your Face, and salute our Friends, Lady—

Blunt. Hah! Say'st thou so, my little Rover? [To Hell.] Lady— (if you be one) give me leave to kiss your Hand, and tell you, adsheartlikins, for all I look so, I am your humble Servant— A Pox of my Spanish Habit.

Will. Hark— what's this? [Musick is heard to Play.

Enter Boy.

Boy. Sir, as the Custom is, the gay People in Masquerade, who make every Man's House their own, are coming up.

Enter several Men and Women in masquing Habits, with Musick, they put themselves in order and dance.

Blunt. Adsheartlikins, wou'd 'twere lawful to pull off their false Faces, that I might see if my Doxy were not amongst 'em.

Belv. Ladies and Gentlemen, since you are come so a propos, you must take a small Collation with us. [To the Masquers.

Will. Whilst we'll to the Good Man within, who stays to give us a Cast of his Office. [To Hell.] —Have you no trembling at the near approach?

Hell. No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.

Will. Egad, thou'rt a brave Girl, and I admire thy Love and Courage. Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread, Who venture in the Storms o'th' Marriage-Bed. [Exeunt.


The banisht Cavaliers! a Roving Blade! A popish Carnival! a Masquerade! The Devil's in't if this will please the Nation, In these our blessed Times of Reformation, When Conventicling is so much in Fashion. And yet— That mutinous Tribe less Factions do beget, Than your continual differing in Wit; Your Judgment's (as your Passions) a Disease: Nor Muse nor Miss your Appetite can please; You're grown as nice as queasy Consciences, Whose each Convulsion, when the Spirit moves, Damns every thing that Maggot disapproves. With canting Rule you wou'd the Stage refine, And to dull Method all our Sense confine. With th' Insolence of Common-wealths you rule, Where each gay Fop, and politick brave Fool, On Monarch Wit impose without controul. As for the last who seldom sees a Play, Unless it be the old Black-Fryers way, Shaking his empty Noddle o'er Bamboo, He crys— Good Faith, these Plays will never do. —Ah, Sir, in my young days, what lofty Wit, What high-strain'd Scenes of Fighting there were writ: These are slight airy Toys. But tell me, pray, What has the House of Commons done to day? Then shews his Politicks, to let you see Of State Affairs he'll judge as notably, As he can do of Wit and Poetry. The younger Sparks, who hither do resort, Cry— Pox o' your gentle things, give us more Sport; —Damn me, I'm sure 'twill never please the Court. Such Fops are never pleas'd, unless the Play Be stuff'd with Fools, as brisk and dull as they: Such might the Half-Crown spare, and in a Glass At home behold a more accomplisht Ass, Where they may set their Cravats, Wigs and Faces, And practice all their Buffoonry Grimaces; See how this— Huff becomes— this Dammy— flare— Which they at home may act, because they dare, But— must with prudent Caution do elsewhere. Oh that our Nokes, or Tony Lee could show A Fop but half so much to th' Life as you.


This Play had been sooner in Print, but for a Report about the Town (made by some either very Malitious or very Ignorant) that 'twas Thomaso altered; which made the Book-sellers fear some trouble from the Proprietor of that Admirable Play, which indeed has Wit enough to stock a Poet, and is not to be piec't or mended by any but the Excellent Author himself; That I have stol'n some hints from it may be a proof, that I valu'd it more than to pretend to alter it: had I had the Dexterity of some Poets who are not more expert in stealing than in the Art of Concealing, and who even that way out-do the Spartan-Boys I might have appropriated all to myself, but I, vainly proud of my Judgment hang out the Sign of ANGELICA (the only Stol'n Object) to give Notice where a great part of the Wit dwelt; though if the Play of the Novella were as well worth remembring as Thomaso, they might (bating the Name) have as well said, I took it from thence: I will only say the Plot and Bus'ness (not to boast on't) is my own: as for the Words and Characters, I leave the Reader to judge and compare 'em with Thomaso, to whom I recommend the great Entertainment of reading it, tho' had this succeeded ill, I shou'd have had no need of imploring that Justice from the Critics, who are naturally so kind to any that pretend to usurp their Dominion, they wou'd doubtless have given me the whole Honour on't. Therefore I will only say in English what the famous Virgil does in Latin: I make Verses and others have the Fame.

* * * * * * * * *

NOTES: The Rover, Part I

[Transcriber's Note:

The Notes in the printed text give only page and line numbers. Act-and-scene designations shown between marks have been added by the transcriber. Labels such as "Scene IIa" refer to points where the scene description changes without a new scene number.]


Dramatis Personae

p. 9 Diego, Page to Don Antonio. Neither 4tos nor 1724 give the page's name, but it is furnished by the stage direction Act ii. I, p. 32. I have added Hellena's page, Belvile's page, and Blunt's man to the list as it appears in 4tos and 1724.

p. 9 Angelica. 4tos give 'Angellica' throughout. I have retained 1724 'Angelica' as more correct.

Act I: Scene i

p. 12, l. 5 my things. 1724 misprints 'methinks'.

Act I: Scene ii

p. 17, l. 14 as those which ... 4to 1677 prints this as a separate line of blank verse. 4to 1709 italicizes it.

p. 23, l. 12 She often passes ... 4to 1709 puts this stage direction before Blunt's speech.

p. 24, l. 18 Ex. all the Women. I have added 'except Lucetta' as she is individually directed to make her exit with Blunt later and not at this point.

Act II: Scene i

p. 32, l. 23 Pedro. Ha! 1724 omits.

p. 32, l. 28 aside. 1724 omits.

p. 35, l. 33 his shirt bloody. 1724 gives 'their shirts' but 4tos, more correctly, 'his shirt'. It is only Willmore who has been wounded.

Act II: Scene ii

p. 38, l. 6 high i' th' Mouth. 1724, 1735 misprint 'Month'.

p. 39, l. 8 This last reserve. 1724 omits 'reserve'.

p. 39, l. 10 by me. 1724 omits the repetition of 'by me'.

p. 39, l. 14 cure. 1724 misprints 'curse'.

p. 40, l. 9 Thou art a brave Fellow. 1724 prints this speech as prose but the 4tos, which I have followed, divide metrically.

Act III: Scene i

p. 44, l. 1 Thou wou't. 4to 1677. 1724 wrongly reads 'won't'. 1735 'Thou'lt'.

p. 45, l. 8 ago. 4to 1677. 1724 misprints 'go'.

p. 47, l. 26 starts. 4tos read 'stares' but I retain 1724 'starts' as more appropriate.

p. 47, l. 31 Expect! 1724 gives this speech as prose. I follow metrical division of 4tos.

p. 49, l. 16 rally. 1724 misprints 'railly'.

p. 52, l. 5 Exeunt. 1724 omits this necessary stage direction.

Act III: Scene ii

p. 52, l. 31 Exit. 1724 misprints 'aside'.

p. 53, l. 5 Enter Sancho. 4tos, but misprint after Sancho's speech. 1724 omits, but misprints an 'exit Sancho', and gives 'exit' after Blunt's speech instead of 'exeunt'.

Act III: Scene iia

p. 54, l. 9 Pimps! 1724 'Imps'.

p. 55, l. 12 sheer. 4to 1677. 4to 1709 and 1724 read wrongly 'share'.

Act IV: Scene i

p. 64, l. 4 Ant. 4to 1677 wrongly gives this speech to Belvile. 4to 1709 and ed. 1724 assign it correctly.

p. 64, l. 14 That Opinion. 1724 prints this speech as prose. I follow metrical division of 4tos.

Act IV: Scene ii

p. 65, l. 4 Aside. 4to 1677. 1724 and 1735 omit this stage direction.

p. 65, l. 11 Masquing Habit. 1724, 1735, 'Masque habit'.

p. 66, l. 2 If you strike. 1724, 1735 omit this line.

p. 66, l. 21 Belv. Love Florinda! 4tos give this speech as prose. 1724 metrically.

p. 67, l. 35 Fred.— 'tis he— 1724 and 1735 mistaking 'Fred.' for speech-prefix give this line to Frederick.

p. 68, l. 1 Belv. Vizard ... 1724, 1735, read 'Vizard falls out on's Hand.'

p. 68, l. 13 Nay, an you ... 4tos and 1724, print as prose. This speech is obviously metrical.

p. 69, l. 17 I am all Rage! 4to 1677 divides metrically. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 71, l. 26 unconstant. 1724, 1735 'inconstant'.

p. 73, l. 23 Aside. 4tos omit this necessary stage direction.

p. 73, l. 24 Now I perceive. 1724 prints this as prose. 4tos metrically.

p. 75, l. 12 So, you have made ... 1724, 1735 prose. 4tos metrically.

p. 76, l. 16 You are mistaken. 1724, 1735 prose. 4tos metrically.

p. 76, l. 20 continence. 1724 misprints 'continuance'.

p. 76, l. 23 Will. 1677 misprinting, omits this speech-prefix.

p. 77, l. 8 has Wit. 1724 misprints 'Whas it'.

Act IV: Scene iii

p. 79, l. 20 A Woman! 1724 omits 'A'.

p. 80, l. 16 the Rogue. 1724 omits 'the'.

Act IV: Scene iiib

p. 82, l. 14 He starts up. 1677 4to misprints 'she'.

p. 84, l. 18 dexterous. 1724 misprints 'dexetrous'. 1735 'dextrous'.

p. 86, l. 10 Exeunt. 1724 wrongly 'exit'.

Act V: Scene i

p. 86, l. 12 Blunt's Chamber. 4tos 'Chamber'. 1724, 1735, 'Room'.

p. 86, l. 13 as at his Chamber-door. 1724, 1735, omit 'as'.

p. 87, l. 20 and Belvile's Page. I have added this entrance which 4tos and 1724 omit, as late in the scene an exit is marked for the page.

p. 97, l. 3 Hah! Angelica! 4to 1677 mistakenly marks this speech before the stage direction.

p. 97, l. 4 What Devil. 1724, 1735 'What the Devil', which weakens the whole passage.

p. 107 Post-Script. This is only given in the first 4to (1677).



p. 7 Rabel's Drops. Monsieur Rabell, as he is sometimes termed, was a famous empiric of the day. A description of his medicaments may be found in 'Pharmacopoeia Bateana; or, Bate's Dispensatory. Edited by William Salmon, London, 1700.' Rabell's name occurs on the title-page of this book, and in Section VI of the Preface Rabell's 'Styptick Drops' are alluded to as having been added to the recipes found in the original volume by G. Bate. An account of the manufacture and use of this particular remedy appears in the same volume, Lib. I, chap. x, under 'Sal Stypticum Rabelli'. Salmon, who edited this pharmacopoeia, was himself an irregular practitioner of some notoriety. He took part in the great controversy with the doctors which raged about 1698 and earlier. He finds a sorry place in Garth's Dispensary, canto III, l. 6, wherein his works are alluded to as 'blessed opiates'.

p. 8 Cits in May-day Coaches. On May-day it was the custom for all sorts and conditions of persons and pleasure parties to visit Hyde Park in coaches or at least on horse-back, cf. Pepys Diary, 1 May, 1663: 'We all took horse, and I ... rode, with some trouble, through the fields, and then Holborn, etc., towards Hyde Park, whither all the world, I think, are going; ... there being people of all sorts in coaches there, to some thousands.... By and by ... I rode home, coaches going in great crowds to the further end of the town almost.'

Dramatis Personae

p. 9 Sancho, Pimp to Lucetta. Mr. John Lee. There were at this time two actors and two actresses of the name Lee, Leigh, who, especially in view of the eclectic spelling of seventeenth-century proper names, need to be carefully distinguished. John Lee, who appeared in the small role of Sancho and also took the equally unimportant part of Sebastian in Abdelazer this same year, had, according to Downes, joined the Duke's Company about 1670. He never rose above an entirely insignificant line, and we find him cast as Alexas in Pordage's Herod and Mariamne, 1673; Titiro in Settle's Pastor Fido, 1676; Pedro in Porter's The French Conjurer, and Noddy in The Counterfeit Bridegroom, 1677. He was, it is almost certain, the husband of the famous Mrs. Mary Lee. Downes' entry runs as follows: 'Note, About the year 1670, Mrs. Aldridge, after Mrs. Lee, after Lady Slingsby, also Mrs. Leigh Wife, Mr. John Lee, Mr. Crosby, Mrs. Johnson, were entertain'd in the Dukes House.' There is of course some confusion here. Antony Leigh, it may be noted, is not mentioned in the Roscius Anglicanus for another three years to come (1673), and there can be little doubt that the above passage should read 'also Mrs. Leigh's [Lee's] husband, Mr John Lee'. If this were not so, there would be no point in Downes mentioning so minor an actor at this juncture and in such a list. Crosby and Mrs. Johnson were both performers of great merit, in fact Downes, a page later, has a special warm word of praise for the lady whom we find cast as Carolina in Shadwell's Epsom Wells (1672). Crosby played such parts as Mr. Cleverwit, Lucia's lover, in Ravenscroft's Mamamouchi (1672), Alonzo in Abdelazer (1677), Leander Fancy in Sir Patient Fancy (1678). John Lee disappears entirely after 1677, and his widow is first billed as Lady Slingsby in 1681. For a full account of this great tragedienne see note on Abdelazer, Vol. II.

Mrs. Elizabeth Leigh, Moretta in The Rover, Part I, who is so persistently confused with Mrs. Mary Lee, was the wife of Antony Leigh, the celebrated comedian. In Betterton's comedy, The Revenge (1680), when she acted Mrs. Dashit, she is billed as Mrs. A. Lee. Her husband died in December, 1692. Their son Michael also gave great promise on the boards. The lad's name occurs in the cast of Shadwell's The Amorous Bigot (1690) as 'young Leigh', when he played Diego, a servant, to his father's Tegue o' Divelly, the Irish friar. Unfortunately he died at an early age, probably in the winter of 1701, but his younger brother Francis attained considerable success. Frank Leigh made his debut at Lincoln's Inn's Fields, 31 December, 1702, as Tristram in the original production of Mrs. Centlivre's The Stolen Heiress. He died in the autumn of 1719. Mrs. Leigh was herself an actress of no small eminence, her special line being 'affected mothers, aunts, and modest stale maids that had missed their market'. Says Cibber, 'In all these, with many others, she was extremely entertaining'. After 10 June, 1707, when she acted Lady Sly in Carlile's The Fortune Hunters, her name is no longer to be found in the bills, and in October, 1707, Mrs. Powell is playing her parts. Mrs. Leigh's repertory was very large, and amongst her roles were Lady Woodvil in Etheredge's The Man of Mode (1676); Lady Plyant in The Double Dealer (1694); the Nurse in Love for Love (1695); the Hostess in Betterton's revival of Henry IV, Part I (1699); and Lady Wishfort in The Way of the World (1700). In comedies by Mrs. Behn, Mrs. Leigh only appears twice, Moretta, The Rover, Part I (1677); and Mrs. Closet, The City Heiress (1682).

In and about 1702 another Mrs. Leigh, perhaps Frank Leigh's wife, made a brief appearance. She was at first cast for good parts but soon sank into obscurity. Thus on 21 October, 1702, she sustained Mrs. Plotwell in Mrs. Centlivre's The Beau's Duel; on 28 April, 1703, Chloris in the Hon. Charles Boyle's insipid As You Find It. She may have been the Mrs. Eli. Leigh who with other performers signed a petition to Queen Anne in 1709. Of Mrs. Rachel Lee, who took the 'walk-on' part of Judy, a waiting-woman, in Southern's The Maid's Last Prayer (1693), nothing is known.

p. 9 Angelica Bianca, a famous Curtezan. Mrs. Gwin. Anne Quin (or Quyn, Gwin, Gwyn as the name is indifferently spelt) was a famous actress of great personal beauty. She is constantly, but most erroneously, confounded with Nell Gwynne, and the mistake is the more unpardonable as both names twice occur in the same cast. When Nelly was acting Florimel in Dryden's Secret Love, produced February, 1667, Mrs. Quin played Candiope. Again, in An Evening's Love, June, 1668, Nell Gwynne was Jacinta, and Mrs Quin Aurelia, a role assumed later in the run by Mrs. Marshall. Among Mrs. Quin's more notable parts were Alizia (Alice Perrers) in Orrery's The Black Prince, produced 19 October, 1667; 1677, Thalestris in Pordage's The Siege of Babylon, and Astrea in The Constant Nymph; 1678, Lady Knowell in Sir Patient Fancy and Lady Squeamish in Otway's Friendship in Fashion; 1682, Queen Elizabeth in Banks' The Unhappy Favourite, and Sunamire in Southerne's The Loyal Brother. Mrs. Quin appears to have retired from the stage towards the close of the year 1682. There exists of this actress an extremely interesting portrait which was offered for sale at Stevens' Auction Rooms, 26 February, 1901, but not reaching the reserve price, withdrawn. It is mistakenly described in the catalogue as 'Miniature Portrait of Nell Gwynn on copper with original case and 30 cover dresses on talc...' An illustrated article on it, entitled, 'Nell Gwynne's Various Guises', appeared in the Lady's Pictorial, 23 March, of the same year, p. 470, in the course of which the writer says: 'Accompanying the miniature are some thirty mica covers in different stages of preservation upon which various headdresses and costumes are painted. The place where, in the ordinary course, the face would come is in all cases left blank, the talc being of course transparent, when it is laid upon the original miniature the countenance of the latter becomes visible, and we are enabled to see Nell Gwynne [Anne Quin] as she would appear in various characters.' The old error has been perpetuated here, but the Lady's Pictorial reproduced half-a-dozen of these painted mica covers, and the costumes for the two roles of Queen Elizabeth and Sunamire can be distinctly recognized. Doubtless an examination of the original micas would soon yield an identification of other characters. The miniature, it may be noted, does not in the least resemble Nell Gwynne, so there is bare excuse here for the confusion.

Act I: Scene i

p. 11 Siege of Pampelona. Pampluna, the strongly fortified capital of Navarra, has from its geographical position very frequently been a centre of military operations. It will be remembered that it was during a siege of Pampluna in 1521 Ignatius Loyola received the wound which indirectly led to the founding of the Jesuits.

p. 13 King Sancho the First. Sancho I, 'the Fat', of Castile and Leon, reigned 955-67: Sancho I of Aragon 1067-94. But the phrase is here only in a vague general sense to denote some musty and immemorial antiquity without any exact reference.

p. 14 Hostel de Dieu. The first Spanish hospital was erected at Granada by St. Juan de Dios, founder of the Order of Hospitallers. ob. 1550.

p. 14 Gambo. The Gambia in W. Africa has been a British Colony since 1664, when a fort, now Fort James, was founded at the mouth of the river.

Act I: Scene ii

p. 17 Hogoes. Haut-gout, a relish or savoury.

Act I: Scene ii

p. 26 a Piece of Eight. A piastre, a coin of varying values in different countries. The Spanish piastre is now synonymous with a dollar and so worth about four shillings. The old Italian piastre was equivalent to 3s. 7d.

Act II: Scene i

p. 30 Balcony... each side of the Door. With regard to the proscenium doors and balconies of a Restoration theatre, our knowledge of these points has been rendered much more exact since the valuable discovery by that well-known authority in stage matters, Mr. W. J. Lawrence, of Sir Christopher Wren's designs for the second Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, 1674. Beyond the proscenium on the apron there are four doors each with its balcony above. The height of these balconies from the stage is considerable, surprisingly so indeed in view of the fact that characters frequently have to climb up into or descend from one of these 'windows', e.g., Shadwell's The Miser (1672), Act. iv, when the drunken bullies 'bounce at the Doors', we have 'Squeeze at the Window in his Cap, and undressed,' who cries: 'I must venture to escape at this Window'; 'he leaps down', and yells, as he falls, 'Death! I have broke my Bones; oh! oh!' whilst the scowrers run up, exclaiming: 'Somebody leaped out of a Window', and he is promptly seized. In Ravenscroft's The London Cuckolds (1682), Act. v: 'Enter Ramble above in the Balcony'. This gallant, escaping from the house hurriedly, decides 'which way shall I get down? I must venture to hang by my hands and then drop from the Balcony'. Next: 'As Ramble is getting down Doodle enters to look for his glove, Ramble drops upon him and beats him down.' This could hardly have been an easy bit of stage business, although Smith, who acted Ramble, was an athletic, tall young fellow.

Normally no doubt only two of the doors (those nearest the proscenium opening on opposite sides) with their balconies were in constant use by the actors as the exigencies of the play might demand, but if required, all four balconies, and more frequently, all four doors could be and were employed. It is noticeable in Wren's design that the balconies are not stage balconies, but side boxes, a permanent part of the general architectural scheme, and there can be no doubt that, save in exceptional circumstances, the two outermost were occupied by spectators. If the play did not require the use of a balcony at all, spectators would also fill the inner side boxes. In time, indeed, two doors and two balconies only came to be used, but for some decades at least all four were practicable. The present passage of The Rover indicates the use of three doors. The bravos hang up two little pictures of Angelica, one at each side of the door of her house, and presently the fair courtezan appears in her balcony above. A little later Don Pedro and Stephano enter by one door at the opposite side, Don Antonio and his page by the second door on the same side as Pedro.

In Etheredge's She Wou'd if She Cou'd (6 February, 1668) Act ii, 1, Courtal and Freeman are seen following up Ariana and Gatty in the Mulberry Garden. Presently 'The Women go out, and go about behind the Scenes to the other Door', then 'Enter the Women [at one door] and after 'em Courtal at the lower Door, and Freeman at the upper on the contrary side'.

Three balconies are employed in Ravenscroft's Mamamouchi (1672; 4to 1675) Act iv. We have 'Enter Mr. Jorden, musick' obviously in one balcony from the ensuing dialogue. Then 'Cleverwit, in Turk's habit, with Betty Trickmore and Lucia appear in the Balcony' number two. A song is sung and 'Young Jorden and Marina in the Balcony against 'em'. Young Jorden remarks, 'Now, dearest Marina, let us ascend to your Father, he is by this time from his Window convinc'd of the slight is put on you....' 'They retire' and although there has been no exit marked for Mr, Jorden, we find directly, 'Enter Mr. Jorden and Trickmore,' obviously upon the stage itself, to which Mr. Jorden has descended. It must be noted, however, that the use of more than two balconies is very rare.

Mr. W. J. Lawrence in The Elizabethan Playhouse and other Studies (First Series) aptly writes: 'No dramatist of the time had a better sense of the theatre than Mrs. Behn, and none made more adroit employment of the balconies.' He then cites the scene of Angelica, her bravos and admirers.

p. 36 a Patacoone. A Spanish coin in value about 4s. 8d.

Act II: Scene ii

p. 38 a Pistole-worth. The pistole was a gold coin worth about 16s.

p. 42 a shameroon. A rare word meaning a trickster, a cozening rascal.

Act III: Scene iia

p. 54 bow'd Gold. Bowed for bent is still used in the North of England: 'A bowed pin.'

Act III: Scene iii

p. 57 disguis'd. A common phrase for drunk.

Act IV: Scene ii

p. 75 cogging. To cog = to trick, wheedle or cajole.

Act V: Scene i

p. 99 Tramontana. Foreign; Italian and Spanish tramontano = from beyond the mountains.

p. 101 upse. Op zijn = in the fashion or manner of. Upse Gipsy = like a gipsy, cf. The Alchemist, iv, vi:

I do not like the dulness of your eye: It hath a heavy cast, 'tis upsee Dutch.

p. 101 Incle. Linen thread or yarn which was woven into a tape once very much in use.


p. 106 Nokes, or Tony Lee. James Nokes and Antony Leigh, the two famous actors, were the leading low comedians of the day.

p. 107 Play of the Novella. Novella is a good, though intricate, comedy by Brome. 8vo, 1653, but acted 1632.

p. 107 The famous Virgil. There is a tale, reported by Donatus, that Vergil once anonymously wrote up on the palace gates a distich in praise of Augustus, which, when nobody was found to own it, was claimed by a certain versifier Bathyllus, whom Caesar duly rewarded, A few days later, however, Virgil again set in the same place a quatrain each line of which commenced 'sic vos non vobis...' but was unfinished, and preceeded these by the one hexameter

Hos ego versiculos feci; tulit alter honores.

All were unable to complete the lines satisfactorily save the great poet himself, and by this means the true author of the eulogy was revealed.

* * * * * * * * *

Errors and Irregularities: The Rover, Part I

justling him to one side _standard spelling for text_ that damn'd virtuous Woman, whom on my Conscience _text reads "Consicience"_ Read here this Postscript. _text reads "Postcript"_ _Will._ Ha! where? _Fred._ Ay where! _printed on a single line_ _Belv._ Ha, ha, ha! _Will._ Death Man, where is she? _printed on a single line_ _Enter _Don Pedro_ in Masquerade, follow'd by _Stephano_._ _printed "follow'd _by Stephano_" with "by" in emphatic type_ _Ang._ No matter, I'm not displeas'd ... _the left edge of this and the following paragraph is damaged, and has been reconstructed as shown in {braces}:_ _Ang._ No matter, I'm not displeas'd with their rallying; th{eir} Wonder feeds my Vanity, and he that wishes to buy, {giv}es me more Pride, than he that gives my Price can {m}ake me Pleasure. _Brav._ Madam, the last I knew thro all his disguises {t}o be Don _Pedro_, Nephew to the General, and who was {w}ith him in _Pampelona_. _Pedro._ Ha! _Florinda_! Sure 'tis _Antonio_. [_aside. _lower-case "aside" in original_ [Gives him the Jewel, which is her Picture, and Ex. He gazes after her. _text reads "he gazes"_ _Scene changes to another Street. Enter _Florinda_._ _here and below, new scenes are unnumbered_

Critical Notes

V.i p. 101 Incle p. 101 upse in the body text, the word "upse" occurs before the word "Incle"

Epilogue p. 107 ... and preceeded these by the one hexameter spelling "preceeded" unchanged

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *




[Transcriber's Note:

Entrances and bracketed stage directions were printed in italics, with proper names in roman type. The overall italic markup has been omitted for readability.]


The exiled cavaliers, Willmore the Rover, Shift and Hunt, two officers, Ned Blunt and Fetherfool, his friend, have arrived at Madrid, where they are welcomed by Beaumond, nephew to the English Ambassador. Both Willmore and Beaumond are enamoured of La Nuche, a beautiful courtezan, whilst Shift and Hunt are respectively courting a Giantess and a Dwarf, two Mexican Jewesses of immense wealth, newly come to Madrid with an old Hebrew, their uncle and guardian. Beaumond is contracted to Ariadne, who loves Willmore. Whilst the Rover is complimenting La Nuche, some Spaniards, headed by Don Carlo, an aged admirer of the lady, attempt to separate the pair. During the scuffle the ladies enter a church, where they are followed by the gallants. A little later Fetherfool comes to terms with La Nuche's duenna, Petronella, whilst Willmore makes love to Ariadne. Shift next informs Willmore of the arrival of a celebrated mountebank, and the Rover resolves to take the quack's place, which he does in effective disguise. Fetherfool and Blunt visit the pseudo-doctor's house, where the Giantess and Dwarf are lodged to be converted to a reasonable size by his medicaments; covetous of their great fortunes, the coxcombs also begin to court the two Jewesses. La Nuche comes to consult the mountebank and meets Ariadne attired as a boy, and Willmore in his own dress. Ariadne, who has a rendezvous that evening with Willmore, is accidentally anticipated by La Nuche, who runs into the garden during a night brawl between Beaumond and the Rover, each of whom is ignorant of his opponent's personality. Both the combatants encounter the courtezan in the garden and are joined by Ariadne. The confusion and mistakes that ensue are augmented by the arrival of Beaumond's page and eventually all disperse in different directions. La Nuche returns to her house, where Fetherfool— led on by the Duenna— awaits her. Carlo, however, come thither for the same purpose, enters the chambers, and after they have fallen to fisticuffs, Fetherfool in a fright escapes through a window. Meanwhile La Nuche is engaged with Willmore; Beaumond interrupts, and both leave her in pretended disdain. Ariadne, purposing to meet the Rover, mistakes Beaumond for him in the dark and they hurry away to the quack's house. Here, however, Fetherfool has already arrived and, finding the Giantess asleep, robs her of a pearl necklace; but he is alarmed by Shift, who takes her off and promptly weds her, whilst Hunt does the same by the Dwarf. Blunt next appears leading Petronella, veiled, who, filching a casket of jewels, has just fled from La Nuche; but the hag is discovered and compelled to disgorge. The Jewish Guardian is reconciled to the marriages of his wards; Beaumond and Ariadne, Willmore and La Nuche arrive, and the various mistakes with regard to identity are rectified, Willmore incidentally revealing himself as the sham mountebank. Beaumond and Ariadne agree to marry, whilst La Nuche gives herself to the Rover.


Induced by the extraordinary success of The Rover in 1677, Mrs. Behn, four years later, turned again to Killigrew's Thomaso; or, The Wanderer, and produced a sequel to her play. She had, however, already made good use of the best points of the old comedy, and the remaining material only being that which her judgment first rejected, it is not a matter of surprise to find the second part of The Rover somewhat inferior to the first. This is by no means to say that it is not an amusing comedy full of bustle and humour. The intrigue of Willmore and La Nuche, together with the jocantries of the inimitable Blunt, Nick Fetherfool, and the antique Petronella Elenora, are all alive with the genius of Astrea, although it may be possibly objected that some of the episodes with the two Monsters and the pranks of Harlequin are apt to trench a little too nearly on the realm of farce.


The Second Part of The Rover was produced at the Duke's Theatre, Dorset Gardens, in 1681. It is noticeable that Will Smith had so distinguished himself in Willmore, that Betterton, who appeared as Belvile in the first part, did not essay a character in the second. The cast was reinforced, however, by Mrs. Barry, who took the role of La Nuche.

The play was received with great applause; it suffered none the less the fate of most sequels and, being overshadowed by its predecessor, after a few decades disappeared from the boards.


Great Sir,

I dread to appear in this Humble Dedication to Your Royal Highness, as one of those Insolent and Saucy Offenders who take occasion by Your absence to commit ill-mannered indecencies, unpardonable to a Prince of your Illustrious Birth and God-like Goodness, but that in spight of Seditious Scandal You can forgive; and all the World knows You can suffer with a Divine Patience: the proofs You have early and late given of this, have been such, as if Heaven design'd 'em only to give the World an undeniable Testimony of Your Noble Vertues, Your Loyalty and True Obedience (if I may presume to say so,) both to Your Sacred Brother, and the never satisfied People, when either one Commanded, or t'other repin'd, With how chearful and intire a submission You Obey'd? And tho the Royal Son of a Glorious Father who was render'd unfortunate by the unexemplary ingratitude of his worst of Subjects; and sacrific'd to the insatiate and cruel Villany of a seeming sanctifi'd Faction, who cou'd never hope to expiate for the unparallell'd sin, but by an intire submission to the Gracious Off-spring of this Royal Martyr: yet You, Great Sir, denying Yourself the Rights and Priviledges the meanest Subject Claims, with a Fortitude worthy Your Adorable Vertues, put Yourself upon a voluntary Exile to appease the causeless murmurs of this again gathering Faction, who make their needless and self-created fears, an occasion to Play the old Game o're again; whil'st the Politick self-interested and malitious few betray the unconsidering Rest, with the delicious sounds of Liberty and Publick Good; that lucky Cant which so few years since so miserably reduc'd all the Noble, Brave and Honest, to the Obedience of the ill-gotten Power, and worse-acted Greatness of the Rabble; so that whil'st they most unjustly cry'd down the oppression of one of the best of Monarchs, and all Kingly Government: all England found itself deplorably inslav'd by the Arbitrary Tyranny of many Pageant Kings. Oh that we shou'd so far forget with what greatness of mind You then shar'd the common Fate, as now and again to force Your Royal Person to new Perils, and new Exiles; but such ingratitude we are punisht with, and You still suffer for, and still forgive it.

This more than Human Goodness, with the incouragement Your Royal Highness was pleas'd to give the Rover at his first appearance, and the concern You were pleas'd to have for his second, makes me presume to lay him at Your feet; he is a wanderer too, distrest; belov'd, the unfortunate, and ever conscent to Loyalty; were he Legions he should follow and suffer still with so Excellent a Prince and Master. Your Infant worth he knew, and all Your growing Glories; has seen you like young Cesar in the Field, when yet a Youth, exchanging Death for Laurels, and wondred at a Bravery so early, which still made double Conquest, not only by Your Sword, but by Your Vertues, which taught even Your Enemies so intire an Obedience, that asham'd of their Rebel Gallantry, they have resign'd their guilty Commissions, and Vow'd never to Draw Sword more but in the Royal Cause; which Vow Religiously they kept: a noble Example for the busie and hot Mutineers of this Age misled by Youth, false Ambition and falser Council.

[Sidenote: Some of Oliver's Commanders at Dunkirk]

How careless since Your Glorious Restauration You have been, of Your Life for the service of Your mistaken Country, the whole World knows, and all brave men admire.

Pardon me then, Great Sir, if I presume to present my faithful Soldier, (which no Storms of Fate can ever draw from his Obedience) to so great a General: allow him, Royal Sir, a shelter and protection, who was driven from his Native Country with You, forc'd as You were, to fight for his Bread in a Strange Land, and suffer'd with You all the Ills of Poverty, War and Banishment; and still pursues Your Fortunes; and though he cannot serve Your Highness, he may possibly have the Honour of diverting You a few moments: which tho Your Highness cannot want in a place where all Hearts and Knees are justly bow'd in Adoration, where all conspire, as all the Earth (who have the blessing of Your presence) ought to entertain, serve and please You; yet this humble Tribute of a most Zealous and Devout Heart, may find amongst Your busier hours of greater moment, some one wherein it may have the Glory of Your regard, and be capable in some small degree of unbending Your great mind from Royal Cares, the weightiest Cares of all; which if it be so fortunate as to do, I have my end, and the Glory I design, a sufficient reward for her who does and will eternally pray for the Life, Health and Safety of Your Royal Highness, as in Duty all the World is bound to do, but more especially,

Illustrious Sir,

Your Highnesses most Humble, most Faithful, and most Obedient Servant, A. BEHN.




Spoken by Mr. Smith.

In vain we labour to reform the Stage, Poets have caught too the Disease o'th' Age, That Pest, of not being quiet when they're well, That restless Fever, in the Brethren, Zeal; In publick Spirits call'd, Good o' th' Commonweal. Some for this Faction cry, others for that, The pious Mobile fir they know not what: So tho by different ways the Fever seize, In all 'tis one and the same mad Disease. Our Author too, as all new Zealots do, Full of Conceit and Contradiction too, 'Cause the first Project took, is now so vain, T'attempt to play the old Game o'er again: The Scene is only changed; for who wou'd lay A Plot, so hopeful, just the same dull way? Poets, like Statesmen, with a little change, Pass off old Politicks for new and strange; Tho the few Men of Sense decry't aloud, The Cheat will pass with the unthinking Croud: The Rabble 'tis we court, those powerful things, Whose Voices can impose even Laws on Kings. A Pox of Sense and Reason, or dull Rules, Give us an Audience that declares for Fools; Our Play will stand fair: we've Monsters too, Which far exceed your City Pope for Show. Almighty Rabble,'tis to you this Day Our humble Author dedicates the Play, From those who in our lofty Tire sit, Down to the dull Stage-Cullies of the Pit, Who have much Money, and but little Wit: Whose useful Purses, and whose empty Skulls To private Int'rest make ye Publick Tools; To work on Projects which the wiser frame, And of fine Men of Business get the Name. You who have left caballing here of late, Imploy'd in matters of a mightier weight; To you we make our humble Application, You'd spare some time from your dear new Vocation, Of drinking deep, then settling the Nation, To countenance us, whom Commonwealths of old Did the most politick Diversion hold. Plays were so useful thought to Government, That Laws were made for their Establishment; Howe'er in Schools differing Opinions jar, Yet all agree i' th' crouded Theatre, Which none forsook in any Change or War. That, like their Gods, unviolated stood, Equally needful to the publick Good. Throw then, Great Sirs, some vacant hours away, And your Petitioners shall humbly pray. &c.



Willmore, The Rover, in love with La Nuche, Mr. Smith Beaumond, the English Ambassador's Nephew, in love with La Nuche, contracted to Ariadne, Mr. Williams Ned Blunt, an English Country Gentleman, Mr. Underhill Nicholas Fetherfool, an English Squire, his Friend, Mr. Nokes Shift, } an English Lieutenant, } Friends and Officers Mr. Wiltshire Hunt, an Ensign } to Willmore, Mr. Richards Harlequin, Willmore's Man. Abevile, Page to Beaumond. Don Carlo an old Grandee, in love with La Nuche, Mr. Norris Sancho, Bravo to La Nuche An old Jew, Guardian to the two Monsters, Mr. Freeman Porter at the English Ambassador's. Rag, Boy to Willmore. Scaramouche.


Ariadne, the English Ambassador's Daughter-in-law, in love with Willmore, Mrs. Corror Lucia, her Kinswoman, a Girl, Mrs. Norris La Nuche, a Spanish Curtezan, in love with the Rover, Mrs. Barry Petronella Elenora, her Baud, Mrs. Norris Aurelia, her Woman, Mrs. Crofts A Woman Giant. A Dwarf, her Sister.

Footmen, Servants, Musicians, Operators and Spectators.

SCENE, Madrid.


SCENE I. A Street.

Enter Willmore, Blunt, Fetherfool, and Hunt, two more in Campain Dresses, Rag the Captain's Boy.

Will. Stay, this is the English Ambassador's. I'll inquire if Beaumond be return'd from Paris.

Feth. Prithee, dear Captain, no more Delays, unless thou thinkest he will invite us to Dinner; for this fine thin sharp Air of Madrid has a most notable Faculty of provoking an Appetite: Prithee let's to the Ordinary.

Will. I will not stay— [Knocks, enter a Porter. —Friend, is the Ambassador's Nephew, Mr. Beaumond, return'd to Madrid yet? If he be, I would speak with him.

Port. I'll let him know so much. [Goes in, shuts the door.

Blunt. Why, how now, what's the Door shut upon us?

Feth. And reason, Ned, 'tis Dinner-time in the Ambassador's Kitchen, and should they let the savoury Steam out, what a world of Castilians would there be at the Door feeding upon't.— Oh there's no living in Spain when the Pot's uncover'd.

Blunt. Nay, 'tis a Nation of the finest clean Teeth—

Feth. Teeth! Gad an they use their Swords no oftner, a Scabbard will last an Age.

Enter Shift from the House.

Will. Honest Lieutenant—

Shift. My noble Captain— Welcome to Madrid. What Mr. Blunt, and my honoured Friend Nicholas Fetherfool Esq.

Feth. Thy Hand, honest Shift— [They embrace him.

Will. And how, Lieutenant, how stand Affairs in this unsanctify'd Town?— How does Love's great Artillery, the fair La Nuche, from whose bright Eyes the little wanton God throws Darts to wound Mankind?

Shift. Faith, she carries all before her still; undoes her Fellow-traders in Love's Art: and amongst the Number, old Carlo de Minalta Segosa pays high for two Nights in a Week.

Will. Hah— Carlo! Death, what a greeting's here! Carlo, the happy Man! a Dog! a Rascal, gain the bright La Nuche! Oh Fortune! Cursed blind mistaken Fortune! eternal Friend to Fools! Fortune! that takes the noble Rate from Man, to place it on her Idol Interest.

Shift. Why Faith, Captain, I should think her Heart might stand as fair for you as any, could you be less satirical— but by this Light, Captain, you return her Raillery a little too roughly.

Will. Her Raillery! By this Hand I had rather be handsomly abus'd than dully flatter'd; but when she touches on my Poverty, my honourable Poverty, she presses me too sensibly— for nothing is so nice as Poverty— But damn her, I'll think of her no more: for she's a Devil, tho her Form be Angel. Is Beaumond come from Paris yet?

Shift. He is, I came with him; he's impatient of your Return: I'll let him know you're here. [Exit. Shift.

Feth. Why, what a Pox ails the Captain o'th' sudden? He looks as sullenly as a routed General, or a Lover after hard Service.

Blunt. Oh— something the Lieutenant has told him about a Wench; and when Cupid's in his Breeches, the Devil's ever in's Head— how now— What a pox is the matter with you, you look so scurvily now?— What, is the Gentlewoman otherwise provided? has she cashier'd ye for want of Pay? or what other dire Mischance?— hah—

Will. Do not trouble me— -

Blunt. Adsheartlikins, but I will, and beat thee too, but I'll know the Cause. I heard Shift tell thee something about La Nuche, a Damsel I have often heard thee Fool enough to sigh for.

Will. Confound the mercenary Jilt!

Blunt. Nay, adsheartlikins they are all so; tho I thought you had been Whore-proof; 'tis enough for us Fools, Country Gentlemen, Esquires, and Cullies, to miscarry in their amorous Adventures, you Men of Wit weather all Storms you.

Will. Oh, Sir, you're become a new Man, wise and wary, and can no more be cozen'd.

Blunt. Not by Woman-kind; and for Man I think my Sword will secure me. Pox, I thought a two Months absence and a Siege would have put such Trifles out of thy Head: You do not use to be such a Miracle of Constancy.

Will. That Absence makes me think of her so much; and all the Passions thou find'st about me are to the Sex alone. Give me a Woman, Ned, a fine young amorous Wanton, who would allay this Fire that makes me rave thus, and thou shouldst find me no longer particular, but cold as Winter-Nights to this La Nuche: Yet since I lost my little charming Gipsey, nothing has gone so near my Heart as this.

Blunt. Ay, there was a Girl, the only she thing that could reconcile me to the Petticoats again after my Naples Adventure, when the Quean rob'd and stript me.

Will. Oh name not Hellena! She was a Saint to be ador'd on Holy-days.

Enter Beaumond.

Beau. Willmore! my careless wild inconstant— how is't, my lucky Rover? [embracing.

Will. My Life! my Soul! how glad am I to find thee in my Arms again— and well— When left you Paris? Paris, that City of Pottage and Crab-Wine, swarming with Lacquies and Philies, whose Government is carried on by most Hands, not most Voices— And prithee how does Belvile and his Lady?

Beau. I left 'em both in Health at St. Germains.

Will. Faith, I have wisht my self with ye at the old Temple of Bacchus at St. Clou, to sacrifice a Bottle and a Damsel to his Deity.

Beau. My constant Place of Worship whilst there, tho for want of new Saints my Zeal grew something cold, which I was ever fain to supply with a Bottle, the old Remedy when Phyllis is sullen and absent.

Will. Now thou talk'st of Phillis prithee, dear Harry, what Women hast in store?

Beau. I'll tell thee; but first inform me whom these two Sparks are.

Will. Egad, and so they are, Child: Salute 'em— They are my Friends— True Blades, Hal. highly guilty of the royal Crime, poor and brave, loyal Fugitives.

Beau. I love and honour 'em, Sir, as such [Bowing to Blunt.

Blunt. Sir, there's neither Love nor Honour lost.

Feth. Sir, I scorn to be behind-hand in Civilities.

Beau. At first sight I find I am much yours, Sir. [To Feth.

Feth. Sir, I love and honour any Man that's a Friend to Captain Willmore— and therefore I am yours—

Enter Shift.

—Well, honest Lieutenant, how does thy Body?— When shall Ned, and thou and I, crack a Bisket o'er a Glass of Wine, have a Slice of Treason and settle the Nation, hah?

Shift. You know, Squire, I am devotedly yours. [They talk aside.

Beau. Prithee who are these?

Will. Why, the first you saluted is the same Ned Blunt you have often heard Belvile and I speak of: the other is a Rarity of another Nature, one Squire Fetherfool of Croydon, a tame Justice of Peace, who liv'd as innocently as Ale and Food could keep him, till for a mistaken Kindness to one of the Royal Party, he lost his Commission, and got the Reputation of a Sufferer: He's rich, but covetous as an Alderman.

Beau. What a Pox do'st keep 'em Company for, who have neither Wit enough to divert thee, nor Good-nature enough to serve thee?

Will. Faith, Harry, 'tis true, and if there were no more Charity than Profit in't, a Man would sooner keep a Cough o'th' Lungs than be troubled with 'em: but the Rascals have a blind side as all conceited Coxcombs have, which when I've nothing else to do, I shall expose to advance our Mirth; the Rogues must be cozen'd, because they're so positive they never can be so: but I am now for softer Joys, for Woman, for Woman in abundance— dear Hal. inform me where I may safely unlade my Heart.

Beau. The same Man still, wild and wanton!

Will. And would not change to be the Catholick King.

Beau. I perceive Marriage has not tam'd you, nor a Wife who had all the Charms of her Sex.

Will. Ay— she was too good for Mortals. [With a sham Sadness.

Belv. I think thou hadst her but a Month, prithee how dy'd she?

Will. Faith, e'en with a fit of Kindness, poor Soul— she would to Sea with me, and in a Storm— far from Land, she gave up the Ghost— 'twas a Loss, but I must bear it with a Christian Fortitude.

Beau. Short Happinesses vanish like to Dreams.

Will. Ay faith, and nothing remains with me but the sad Remembrance— not so much as the least Part of her hundred thousand Crowns; Brussels that inchanted Court has eas'd me of that Grief, where our Heroes act Tantalus better than ever Ovid describ'd him, condemn'd daily to see an Apparition of Meat, Food in Vision only. Faith, I had Bowels, was good-natur'd, and lent upon the publick Faith as far as 'twill go— But come, let's leave this mortifying Discourse, and tell me how the price of Pleasure goes.

Beau. At the old Rates still; he that gives most is happiest, some few there are for Love!

Will. Ah, one of the last, dear Beaumond; and if a Heart or Sword can purchase her, I'll bid as fair as the best. Damn it, I hate a Whore that asks me Mony.

Beau. Yet I have known thee venture all thy Stock for a new Woman.

Will. Ay, such a Fool I was in my dull Days of Constancy, but I am now for Change, (and should I pay as often,'twould undo me)— for Change, my Dear, of Place, Clothes, Wine, and Women. Variety is the Soul of Pleasure, a Good unknown; and we want Faith to find it.

Beau. Thou wouldst renounce that fond Opinion, Willmore, didst thou see a Beauty here in Town, whose Charms have Power to fix inconstant Nature or Fortune were she tottering on her Wheel.

Will. Her Name, my Dear, her Name?

Beau. I would not breathe it even in my Complaints, lest amorous Winds should bear it o'er the World, and make Mankind her Slaves; But that it is a Name too cheaply known, And she that owns it may be as cheaply purchas'd.

Will. Hah! cheaply purchas'd too! I languish for her.

Beau. Ay, there's the Devil on't, she is— a Whore.

Will. Ah, what a charming Sound that mighty Word bears!

Beau. Damn her, she'll be thine or any body's.

Will. I die for her—

Beau. Then for her Qualities—

Will. No more— ye Gods, I ask no more, Be she but fair and much a Whore— Come let's to her.

Beau. Perhaps to morrow you may see this Woman.

Will. Death,'tis an Age.

Feth. Oh, Captain, the strangest News, Captain.

Will. Prithee what?

Feth. Why, Lieutenant Shift here tells us of two Monsters arriv'd from Mexico, Jews of vast Fortunes, with an old Jew Uncle their Guardian; they are worth a hundred thousand Pounds a piece— Marcy upon's, why,'tis a Sum able to purchase all Flanders again from his most christian Majesty.

Will. Ha, ha, ha, Monsters!

Beau. He tells you Truth, Willmore.

Blunt. But hark ye, Lieutenant, are you sure they are not married?

Beau. Who the Devil would venture on such formidable Ladies?

Feth. How, venture on 'em! by the Lord Harry, and that would I, tho I'm a Justice of the Peace, and they be Jews, (which to a Christian is a thousand Reasons.)

Blunt. Is the Devil in you to declare our Designs? [Aside.

Feth. Mum, as close as a Jesuit.

Beau. I admire your Courage, Sir, but one of them is so little, and so deform'd,'tis thought she is not capable of Marriage; and the other is so huge an overgrown Giant, no Man dares venture on her.

Will. Prithee let's go see 'em; what do they pay for going in?

Feth. Pay— I'd have you to know they are Monsters of Quality.

Shift. And not to be seen but by particular Favour of their Guardian, whom I am got acquainted with, from the Friendship I have with the Merchant where they lay. The Giant, Sir, is in love with me, the Dwarf with Ensign Hunt, and as we manage Matters we may prove lucky.

Beau. And didst thou see the Show? the Elephant and the Mouse.

Shift. Yes, and pleased them wondrously with News I brought 'em of a famous Mountebank who is coming to Madrid, here are his Bills— who amongst other his marvellous Cures, pretends to restore Mistakes in Nature, to new-mould a Face and Body tho never so misshapen, to exact Proportion and Beauty. This News has made me gracious to the Ladies, and I am to bring 'em word of the Arrival of this famous Empirick, and to negotiate the Business of their Reformation.

Will. And do they think to be restor'd to moderate sizes?

Shift. Much pleas'd with the Hope, and are resolv'd to try at any Rate.

Feth. Mum, Lieutenant— not too much of their Transformation; we shall have the Captain put in for a Share, and the Devil would not have him his Rival: Ned and I are resolv'd to venture a Castfor 'em as they are— Hah, Ned. [Will. and Beau. read the Bill.

Blunt. Yes, if there were any Hopes of your keeping a Secret.

Feth. Nay, nay, Ned, the World knows I am a plaguy Fellow at your Secrets; that, and my Share of the Charge shall be my Part, for Shift says the Guardian must be brib'd for Consent: Now the other Moiety of the Mony and the Speeches shall be thy part, for thou hast a pretty Knack that way. Now Shift shall bring Matters neatly about, and we'll pay him by the Day, or in gross, when we are married— hah, Shift.

Shift. Sir, I shall be reasonable.

Will. I am sure Fetherfool and Blunt have some wise Design upon these two Monsters— it must be so— and this Bill has put an extravagant Thought into my Head— hark ye, Shift. [Whispers to him.

Blunt. The Devil's in't if this will not redeem my Reputation with the Captain, and give him to understand that all the Wit does not lie in the Family of the Willmores, but that this Noddle of mine can be fruitful too upon Occasion.

Feth. Ay, and Lord, how we'll domineer, Ned, hah— over Willmore and the rest of the Renegade Officers, when we have married these Lady Monsters, hah, Ned.

Blunt. —Then to return back to Essex worth a Million.

Feth. And I to Croyden

Blunt. —Lolling in Coach and Six—

Feth. —Be dub'd Right Worshipful—

Blunt. And stand for Knight of the Shire.

Will. Enough— I must have my Share of this Jest, and for divers and sundry Reasons thereunto belonging, must be this very Mountebank expected.

Shift. Faith, Sir, and that were no hard matter, for a day or two the Town will believe it, the same they look for: and the Bank, Operators and Musick are all ready.

Will. Well enough, add but a Harlequin and Scaramouch, and I shall mount in querpo.

Shift. Take no care for that, Sir, your Man, and Ensign Hunt, are excellent at those two; I saw 'em act 'em the other day to a Wonder, they'll be glad of the Employment, my self will be an Operator.

Will. No more, get 'em ready, and give it out, the Man of Art's arriv'd: Be diligent and secret, for these two politick Asses must be cozen'd.

Shift. I will about the Business instantly. [Ex. Shift.

Beau. This Fellow will do Feats if he keeps his Word.

Will. I'll give you mine he shall— But, dear Beaumond, where shall we meet anon?

Beau. I thank ye for that— 'Gad, ye shall dine with me.

Feth. A good Motion—

Will. I beg your Pardon now, dear Beaumond— I having lately nothing else to do, took a Command of Horse from the General at the last Siege, from which I am just arriv'd, and my Baggage is behind, which I must take order for.

Feth. Pox on't now there's a Dinner lost,'twas ever an unlucky Rascal.

Beau. To tempt thee more, thou shalt see my Wife that is to be.

Will. Pox on't, I am the leudest Company in Christendom with your honest Women— but— What, art thou to be noos'd then?

Beau. 'Tis so design'd by my Uncle, if an old Grandee my Rival prevent it not; the Wench is very pretty, young, and rich, and lives in the same House with me, for 'tis my Aunt's Daughter.

Will. Much good may it d'ye, Harry, I pity you, but 'tis the common Grievance of you happy Men of Fortune. [Goes towards the House-door with Beau.

Enter La Nuche, Aurelia, Petronella, Sancho, Women veil'd a little.

Aur. Heavens, Madam, is not that the English Captain? [Looking on Will.

La Nu. 'Tis, and with him Don Henrick the Ambassador's Nephew— how my Heart pants and heaves at sight of him! some Fire of the old Flames remaining, which I must strive to extinguish. For I'll not bate a Ducat of this Price I've set upon my self, for all the Pleasures Youth or Love can bring me— for see Aurelia— the sad Memento of a decay'd poor old forsaken Whore in Petronella; consider her, and then commend my Prudence.

Will. Hah, Women!—

Feth. Egad, and fine ones too, I'll tell you that.

Will. No matter, Kindness is better Sauce to Woman than Beauty! By this Hand she looks at me— Why dost hold me? [Feth. holds him.

Feth. Why, what a Devil, art mad?

Will. Raging, as vigorous Youth kept long from Beauty; wild for the charming Sex, eager for Woman, I long to give a Loose to Love and Pleasure.

Blunt. These are not Women, Sir, for you to ruffle—

Will. Have a care of your Persons of Quality, Ned. [Goes to La Nuche. —Those lovely Eyes were never made to throw their Darts in vain.

La Nu. The Conquest would be hardly worth the Pain.

Will. Hah, La Nuche! with what a proud Disdain she flung away— stay, I will not part so with you— [Holds her.

Enter Ariadne and Lucia with Footmen.

Aria. Who are these before us, Lucia?

Luc. I know not, Madam; but if you make not haste home, you'll be troubled with Carlo your importunate Lover, who is just behind us.

Aria. Hang me, a lovely Man! what Lady's that? stay.

Pet. What Insolence is this! This Villain will spoil all—

Feth. Why, Captain, are you quite distracted?— dost know where thou art? Prithee be civil—

Will. Go, proud and cruel! [Turns her from him.

Enter Carlo, and two or three Spanish Servants following: Petronella goes to him.

Car. Hah, affronted by a drunken Islander, a saucy Tramontane!— Draw— [To his Servants whilst he takes La Nuche. whilst I lead her off— fear not, Lady, you have the Honour of my Sword to guard ye.

Will. Hah, Carlo— ye lye— it cannot guard the boasting Fool that wears it— be gone— and look not back upon this Woman. [Snatches her from him] One single Glance destroys thee—

[They draw and fight; Carlo getting hindmost of his Spaniards, the English beat 'em off: The Ladies run away, all but Ariadne and Lucia.

Luc. Heav'ns, Madam, why do ye stay?

Aria. To pray for that dear Stranger— And see, my Prayers are heard, and he's return'd in safety— this Door shall shelter me to o'er-hear the Quarrel. [Steps aside.

Enter Will. Blunt, Feth. looking big, and putting up his Sword.

Feth. The noble Captain be affronted by a starch'd Ruff and Beard, a Coward in querpo, a walking Bunch of Garlick, a pickl'd Pilchard! abuse the noble Captain, and bear it off in State, like a Christmas Sweet-heart; these things must not be whilst Nicholas Fetherfool wears a Sword.

Blunt. Pox o' these Women, I thought no good would come on't: besides, where's the Jest in affronting honest Women, if there be such a thing in the Nation?

Feth. Hang't,'twas the Devil and all—

Will. Ha, ha, ha! Why, good honest homespun Country Gentlemen, who do you think those were?

Feth. Were! why, Ladies of Quality going to their Devotion; who should they be?

Blunt. Why, faith, and so I thought too.

Will. Why, that very one Woman I spoke to is ten Whores in Surrey.

Feth. Prithee speak softly, Man: 'Slife, we shall be poniarded for keeping thee company.

Will. Wise Mr. Justice, give me your Warrant, and if I do not prove 'em Whores, whip me.

Feth. Prithee hold thy scandalous blasphemous Tongue, as if I did not know Whores from Persons of Quality.

Will. Will you believe me when you lie with her? for thou'rt a rich Ass, and may'st do it.

Feth. Whores— ha, ha—

Will. 'Tis strange Logick now, because your Band is better that mine, I must not know a Whore better than you.

Blunt. If this be a Whore, as thou say'st, I understand nothing— by this Light such a Wench would pass for a Person of Quality in London.

Feth. Few Ladies have I seen at a Sheriff's Feast have better Faces, or worn so good Clothes; and by the Lord Harry, if these be of the gentle Craft, I'd not give a Real for an honest Women for my use.

Will. Come follow me into the Church, for thither I am sure they're gone: And I will let you see what a wretched thing you had been had you lived seven Years longer in Surrey, stew'd in Ale and Beef-broth.

Feth. O dear Willmore, name not those savory things, there's no jesting with my Stomach; it sleeps now, but if it wakes, wo be to your Shares at the Ordinary.

Blunt. I'll say that for Fetherfool, if his Heart were but half so good as his Stomach, he were a brave Fellow. [Aside, Exeunt.

Aria. I am resolv'd to follow— and learn, if possible, who 'tis has made this sudden Conquest o'er me. [All go off.

[Scene draws, and discovers a Church, a great many People at Devotion, soft Musick playing. Enter La Nuche, Aurelia, Petron. and Sancho: To them Willmore, Feth. Blunt; then Ariadne, Lucia; Feth. bows to La Nuche and Petronella.

Feth. Now as I hope to be sav'd, Blunt, she's a most melodious Lady. Would I were worthy to purchase a Sin or so with her. Would not such a Beauty reconcile thy Quarrel to the Sex?

Blunt. No, were she an Angel in that Shape.

Feth. Why, what a pox couldst not lie with her if she'd let thee? By the Lord Harry, as errant a Dog as I am, I'd fain see any of Cupid's Cook-maids put me out of countenance with such a Shoulder of Mutton.

Aria. See how he gazes on her— Lucia, go nearer, and o'er-hear 'em.

[Lucia listens.

Will. Death, how the charming Hypocrite looks to day, with such a soft Devotion in her Eyes, as if even now she were praising Heav'n for all the Advantages it has blest her with.

Blunt. Look how Willmore eyes her, the Rogue's smitten heart deep— Whores—

Feth. Only a Trick to keep her to himself— he thought the Name of a Spanish Harlot would fright us from attempting— I must divert him— how is't, Captain— Prithee mind this Musick— Is it not most Seraphical?

Will. Pox, let the Fidlers mind and tune their Pipes, I've higher Pleasures now.

Feth. Oh, have ye so; what, with Whores, Captain?— 'Tis a most delicious Gentlewoman. [Aside.

Pet. Pray, Madam, mind that Cavalier, who takes such pains to recommend himself to you.

La Nu. Yes, for a fine conceited Fool—

Pet. Catso, a Fool, what else?

La Nu. Right, they are our noblest Chapmen; a Fool, and a rich Fool, and an English rich Fool—

Feth. 'Sbud, she eyes me, Ned, I'll set my self in order, it may take— hah— [Sets himself.

Pet. Let me alone to manage him, I'll to him—

La Nu. Or to the Devil, so I had one Minute's time to speak to Willmore.

Pet. And accosting him thus— tell him—

La Nu. [in a hasty Tone.] —I am desperately in love with him, and am Daughter, Wife, or Mistress to some Grandee— bemoan the Condition of Women of Quality in Spain, who by too much Constraint are oblig'd to speak first— but were we blest like other Nations where Men and Women meet— [Speaking so fast, she offering to put in her word, is still prevented by t'other's running on.

Pet. What Herds of Cuckolds would Spain breed— 'Slife, I could find in my Heart to forswear your Service: Have I taught ye your Trade, to become my Instructor, how to cozen a dull phlegmatick greasy-brain'd Englishman?— go and expect your Wishes.

Will. So, she has sent her Matron to our Coxcomb; she saw he was a Cully fit for Game— who would not be a Rascal to be rich, a Dog, an Ass, a beaten, harden'd Coward— by Heaven, I will possess this gay Insensible, to make me hate her— most extremely curse her— See if she be not fallen to Pray'r again, from thence to Flattery, Jilting and Purse-taking, to make the Proverb good— My fair false Sybil, what Inspirations are you waiting for from Heaven, new Arts to cheat Mankind!— Tell me, with what Face canst thou be devout, or ask any thing from thence, who hast made so leud a use of what it has already lavish'd on thee?

La Nu. Oh my careless Rover! I perceive all your hot Shot is not yet spent in Battel, you have a Volley in reserve for me still— Faith, Officer, the Town has wanted Mirth in your Absence.

Will. And so might all the wiser part for thee, who hast no Mirth, no Gaiety about thee, and when thou wouldst design some Coxcomb's ruin; to all the rest, a Soul thou hast so dull, that neither Love nor Mirth, nor Wit or Wine can wake it to good Nature— thou'rt one who lazily work'st in thy Trade, and sell'st for ready Mony so much Kindness; a tame cold Sufferer only, and no more.

La Nu. What, you would have a Mistress like a Squirrel in a Cage, always in Action— one who is as free of her Favours as I am sparing of mine— Well, Captain, I have known the time when La Nuche was such a Wit, such a Humour, such a Shape, and such a Voice, (tho to say Truth I sing but scurvily) 'twas Comedy to see and hear me.

Will. Why, yes Faith for once thou wert, and for once mayst be again, till thou know'st thy Man, and knowest him to be poor. At first you lik'd me too, you saw me gay, no marks of Poverty dwelt in my Face or Dress, and then I was the dearest loveliest Man— all this was to my outside; Death, you made love to my Breeches, caress'd my Garniture and Feather, an English Fool of Quality you thought me— 'Sheart, I have known a Woman doat on Quality, tho he has stunk thro all his Perfumes; one who never went all to Bed to her, but left his Teeth, an Eye, false Back and Breast, sometimes his Palate too upon her Toilet, whilst her fair Arms hug'd the dismember'd Carcase, and swore him all Perfection, because of Quality.

La Nu. But he was rich, good Captain, was he not?

Will. Oh most damnably, and a confounded Blockhead, two certain Remedies against your Pride and Scorn.

La Nu. Have you done, Sir?

Will. With thee and all thy Sex, of which I've try'd an hundred, and found none true or honest.

La Nu. Oh, I doubt not the number: for you are one of those healthy-stomacht Lovers, that can digest a Mistress in a Night, and hunger again next Morning: a Pox of your whining consumptive Constitution, who are only constant for want of Appetite: you have a swinging Stomach to Variety, and Want having set an edge upon your Invention, (with which you cut thro all Difficulties) you grow more impudent by Success.

Will. I am not always scorn'd then.

La Nu. I have known you as confidently put your Hands into your Pockets for Money in a Morning, as if the Devil had been your Banker, when you knew you put 'em off at Night as empty as your Gloves.

Will. And it may be found Money there too.

La Nu. Then with this Poverty so proud you are, you will not give the Wall to the Catholick King, unless his Picture hung upon't. No Servants, no Money, no Meat, always on foot, and yet undaunted still.

Will. Allow me that, Child.

La Nu. I wonder what the Devil makes you so termagant on our Sex, 'tis not your high feeding, for your Grandees only dine, and that but when Fortune pleases— For your parts, who are the poor dependent, brown Bread and old Adam's Ale is only current amongst ye; yet if little Eve walk in the Garden, the starv'd lean Rogues neigh after her, as if they were in Paradise.

Will. Still true to Love you see— -

La Nu. I heard an English Capuchin swear, that if the King's Followers could be brought to pray as well as fast, there would be more Saints among 'em than the Church has ever canoniz'd.

Will. All this with Pride I own, since 'tis a royal Cause I suffer for; go pursue your Business your own way, insnare the Fool— I saw the Toils you set, and how that Face was ordered for the Conquest, your Eyes brimful of dying lying Love; and now and then a wishing Glance or Sigh thrown as by chance; which when the happy Coxcomb caught— you feign'd a Blush, as angry and asham'd of the Discovery: and all this Cunning's for a little mercenary Gain— fine Clothes, perhaps some Jewels too, whilst all the Finery cannot hide the Whore!

La Nu. There's your eternal Quarrel to our Sex, 'twere a fine Trade indeed to keep a Shop and give your Ware for Love: would it turn to account think ye, Captain, to trick and dress, to receive all wou'd enter? faith, Captain, try the Trade.

Pet. What in Discourse with this Railer!— come away; Poverty's catching. [Returns from Discourse with Feth. speaks to San.

Will. So is the Pox, good Matron, of which you can afford good Penniworths.

La Nu. He charms me even with his angry Looks, and will undo me yet.

Pet. Let's leave this Place, I'll tell you my Success as we go.

[Ex. all, some one way, some another, the Forepart of the Church shuts over, except Will. Blunt, Aria, and Lucia.

Will. She's gone, and all the Plagues of Pride go with her.

Blunt. Heartlikins, follow her— Pox on't, an I'd but as good a Hand at this Game as thou hast, I'll venture upon any Chance—

Will. Damn her, come, let's to Dinner. Where's Fetherfool?

Blunt. Follow'd a good Woodman, who gave him the Sign: he'll lodge the Deer e'er night.

Will. Follow'd her— he durst not, the Fool wants Confidence enough to look on her.

Blunt. Oh you know not how a Country Justice may be improved by Travel; the Rogue was hedg'd in at home with the Fear of his Neighbours and the Penal Statutes, now he's broke loose, he runs neighing like a Stone-Horse upon the Common.

Will. However, I'll not believe this— let's follow 'em. [Ex. Will. and Blunt.

Aria. He is in love, but with a Courtezan— some Comfort that. We'll after him— 'Tis a faint-hearted Lover, Who for the first Discouragement gives over. [Ex. Ariadne and Lucia.


SCENE I. The Street.

Enter Fetherfool and Sancho, passing over the Stage; after them Willmore and Blunt, follow'd by Ariadne and Lucia.

Will. 'Tis so, by Heaven, he's chaffering with her Pimp. I'll spare my Curses on him for having her, he has a Plague beyond 'em. —Harkye, I'll never love, nor lie with Women more, those Slaves to Lust, to Vanity and Interest.

Blunt. Ha, Captain! [Shaking his Head and smiling.

Will. Come, let's go drink Damnation to 'em all.

Blunt. Not all, good Captain.

Will. All, for I hate 'em all—

Aria. Heavens! if he should indeed! [Aside.

Blunt. But, Robert, I have found you most inclined to a Damsel when you had a Bottle in your Head.

Will. Give me thy Hand, Ned— Curse me, despise me, point me out for Cowardice if e'er thou see'st me court a Woman more: Nay, when thou knowest I ask any of the Sex a civil Question again— a Plague upon 'em, how they've handled me— come, let's go drink, I say— Confusion to the Race— A Woman!— no, I will be burnt with my own Fire to Cinders e'er any of the Brood shall lay my Flame—

Aria. He cannot be so wicked to keep this Resolution sure— [She passes by. Faith, I must be resolv'd— you've made a pious Resolution, Sir, had you the Grace to keep it— [Passing on he pauses, and looks on her.

Will. Hum— What's that?

Blunt. That— O— nothing— but a Woman— come away.

Will. A Woman! Damn her, what Mischief made her cross my way just on the Point of Reformation!

Blunt. I find the Devil will not lose so hopeful a Sinner. Hold, hold, Captain, have you no Regard to your own Soul? 'dsheartlikins, 'tis a Woman, a very errant Woman.

Aria. Your Friend informs you right, Sir, I am a Woman.

Will. Ay, Child, or I were a lost Man— therefore, dear lovely Creature—

Aria. How can you tell, Sir?

Will. Oh, I have naturally a large Faith, Child, and thou'st a promising Form, a tempting Motion, clean Limbs, well drest, and a most damnable inviting Air.

Aria. I am not to be sold, nor fond of Praise I merit not.

Will. How, not to be sold too! By this light, Child, thou speakest like a Cherubim, I have not heard so obliging a Sound from the Mouth of Woman-kind this many a Day— I find we must be better acquainted, my Dear.

Aria. Your Reason, good familiar Sir, I see no such Necessity.

Will. Child, you are mistaken, I am in great Necessity; for first I love thee— desperately— have I not damn'd my Soul already for thee, and wouldst thou be so wicked to refuse a little Consolation to my Body? Then secondly, I see thou art frank and good-natur'd, and wilt do Reason gratis.

Aria. How prove ye that, good Mr. Philospher?

Will. Thou say'st thou'rt not to be sold, and I'm sure thou'rt to be had— that lovely Body of so divine a Form, those soft smooth Arms and Hands, were made t'embrace as well as be embrac'd; that delicate white rising Bosom to be prest, and all thy other Charms to be enjoy'd.

Aria. By one that can esteem 'em to their worth, can set a Value and a Rate upon 'em.

Will. Name not those Words, they grate my Ears like Jointure, that dull conjugal Cant that frights the generous Lover. Rate— Death, let the old Dotards talk of Rates, and pay it t'atone for the Defects of Impotence. Let the sly Statesman, who jilts the Commonwealth with his grave Politicks, pay for the Sin, that he may doat in secret; let the brisk Fool inch out his scanted Sense with a large Purse more eloquent than he: But tell not me of Rates, who bring a Heart, Youth, Vigor, and a Tongue to sing the Praise of every single Pleasure thou shalt give me.

Aria. Then if I should be kind, I perceive you would not keep the Secret.

Will. Secrecy is a damn'd ungrateful Sin, Child, known only where Religion and Small-beer are current, despis'd where Apollo and the Vine bless the Country: you find none of Jove's Mistresses hid in Roots and Plants, but fixt Stars in Heaven for all to gaze and wonder at— and tho I am no God, my Dear, I'll do a Mortal's Part, and generously tell the admiring World what hidden Charms thou hast: Come, lead me to some Place of Happiness—

Blunt. Prithee, honest Damsel, be not so full of Questions; will a Pistole or two do thee any hurt?

Luc. None at all, Sir—

Blunt. Thou speak'st like a hearty Wench— and I believe hast not been one of Venus' Hand-maids so long, but thou understand thy Trade— In short, fair Damsel, this honest Fellow here who is so termagant upon thy Lady, is my Friend, my particular Friend, and therefore I would have him handsomly, and well-favour'dly abus'd— you conceive me.

Luc. Truly, Sir, a friendly Request— but in what Nature abus'd?

Blunt. Nature!— why any of your Tricks would serve— but if he could be conveniently strip'd and beaten, or tost in a Blanket, or any such trivial Business, thou wouldst do me a singular Kindness; as for Robbery he defies the Devil: an empty Pocket is an Antidote against that Ill.

Luc. Your Money, Sir: and if he be not cozen'd, say a Spanish Woman has neither Wit nor Invention upon Occasion.

Blunt. Sheartlikins, how I shall love and honour thee for't— here's earnest— [Talks to her with Joy and Grimace.

Aria. But who was that you entertain'd at Church but now?

Will. Faith, one, who for her Beauty merits that glorious Title she wears, it was— a Whore, Child.

Aria. That's but a scurvy Name; yet, if I'm not mistaken in those false Eyes of yours, they look with longing Love upon that— Whore, Child.

Will. Thou are i'th' right, and by this hand, my Soul was full as wishing as my Eyes: but a Pox on't, you Women have all a certain Jargon, or Gibberish, peculiar to your selves; of Value, Rate, Present, Interest, Settlement, Advantage, Price, Maintenance, and the Devil and all of Fopperies, which in plain Terms signify ready Money, by way of Fine before Entrance; so that an honest well-meaning Merchant of Love finds no Credit amongst ye, without his Bill of Lading.

Aria. We are not all so cruel— but the Devil on't is, your good-natur'd Heart is likely accompanied with an ill Face and worse Wit.

Will. Faith, Child, a ready Dish when a Man's Stomach is up, is better than a tedious Feast. I never saw any Man yet cut my piece; some are for Beauty, some are for Wit, and some for the Secret, but I for all, so it be in a kind Girl: and for Wit in Woman, so she say pretty fond things, we understand; tho true or false, no matter.

Aria. Give the Devil his due, you are a very conscientious Lover: I love a Man that scorns to impose dull Truth and Constancy on a Mistress.

Will. Constancy, that current Coin with Fools! No, Child, Heaven keep that Curse from our Doors.

Aria. Hang it, it loses Time and Profit, new Lovers have new Vows and new Presents, whilst the old feed upon a dull repetition of what they did when they were Lovers; 'tis like eating the cold Meat ones self, after having given a Friend a Feast.

Will. Yes, that's the thrifty Food for the Family when the Guests are gone. Faith, Child, thou hast made a neat and a hearty Speech: But prithee, my Dear, for the future, leave out that same Profit and Present, for I have a natural Aversion to hard words; and for matter of quick Dispatch in the Business— give me thy Hand, Child— let us but start fair, and if thou outstripst me, thou'rt a nimble Racer. [Lucia sees Shift.

Luc. Oh, Madam, let's be gone: yonder's Lieutenant Shift, who, if he sees us, will certainly give an Account of it to Mr. Beaumond. Let's get in thro the Garden, I have the Key.

Aria. Here's Company coming, and for several reasons I would not be seen. [Offers to go.

Will. Gad, Child, nor I; Reputation is tender— therefore prithee let's retire. [Offers to go with her.

Aria. You must not stir a step.

Will. Not stir! no Magick Circle can detain me if you go.

Aria. Follow me then at a distance, and observe where I enter; and at night (if your Passion lasts so long) return, and you shall find Admittance into the Garden. [Speaking hastily. [He runs out after her.

Enter Shift.

Shift. Well, Sir, the Mountebank's come, and just going to begin in the Piazza; I have order'd Matters, that you shall have a Sight of the Monsters, and leave to court 'em, and when won, to give the Guardian a fourth part of the Portions.

Blunt. Good: But Mum— here's the Captain, who must by no means know our good Fortune, till he see us in State.

Enter Willmore, Shift goes to him.

Shift. All things are ready, Sir, for our Design, the House prepar'd as you directed me, the Guardian wrought upon by the Persuasions of the two Monsters, to take a Lodging there, and try the Bath of Reformation: The Bank's preparing, and the Operators and Musick all ready, and the impatient Town flockt together to behold the Man of Wonders, and nothing wanting but your Donship and a proper Speech.

Will. 'Tis well, I'll go fit my self with a Dress, and think of a Speech the while: In the mean time, go you and amuse the gaping Fools that expect my coming. [Goes out.

Enter Fetherfool singing and dancing.

Feth. Have you heard of a Spanish Lady, How she woo'd an English Man?

Blunt. Why, how now, Fetherfool?

Feth. Garments gay, and rich as may be, Deckt with Jewels, had she on.

Blunt. Why, how now, Justice, what run mad out of Dog-days?

Feth. Of a comely Countenance and Grace is she, A sweeter Creature in the World there could not be.

Shift. Why, what the Devil's the matter, Sir?

Blunt. Stark mad, 'dshartlikins.

Feth. Of a Comely Countenance— well, Lieutenant, the most heroick and illustrious Madona! Thou saw'st her, Ned: And of a comely Counte— The most Magnetick Face— well— I knew the Charms of these Eyes of mine were not made in vain: I was design'd for great things, that's certain— And a sweeter Creature in the World there could not be.


Blunt. What then the two Lady Monsters are forgotten? the Design upon the Million of Money, the Coach and Six, and Patent for Right Worshipful, all drown'd in the Joy of this new Mistress?— But well, Lieutenant, since he is so well provided for, you may put in with me for a Monster; such a Jest, and such a Sum, is not to be lost.

Shift. Nor shall not, or I have lost my Aim. [Aside.

Feth. [Putting off his Hat.] Your Pardons, good Gentlemen; and tho I perceive I shall have no great need for so trifling a Sum as a hundred thousand Pound, or so, yet a Bargain's a Bargain, Gentlemen.

Blunt. Nay,'dsheartlikins, the Lieutenant scorns to do a foul thing, d'ye see, but we would not have the Monsters slighted.

Feth. Slighted! no, Sir, I scorn your Words, I'd have ye to know, that I have as high a Respect for Madam Monster, as any Gentleman in Christendom, and so I desire she should understand.

Blunt. Why, this is that that's handsom.

Shift. Well, the Mountebank's come, Lodgings are taken at his House, and the Guardian prepar'd to receive you on the aforesaid Terms, and some fifty Pistoles to the Mountebank to stand your Friend, and the Business is done. Feth. Which shall be perform'd accordingly, I have it ready about me.

Blunt. And here's mine, put 'em together, and let's be speedy, lest some should bribe higher, and put in before us. [Feth. takes the Money, and looks pitiful on't.

Feth. Tis a plaguy round Sum, Ned, pray God it turn to Account.

Blunt. Account, 'dsheartlikins, 'tis not in the Power of mortal Man to cozen 'me.

Shift. Oh fie, Sir, cozen you, Sir!— well, you'll stay here and see the Mountebank, he's coming forth.

[A Hollowing. Enter from the Front a Bank, a Pageant, which they fix on the Stage at one side, a little Pavilion on't, Musick playing, and Operators round below, or Antickers.

[Musick plays, and an Antick Dance.

Enter Willmore like a Mountebank, with a Dagger in one Hand, and a Viol in the other, Harlequin and Scaramouche; Carlo with other Spaniards below, and Rabble; Ariadne and Lucia above in the Balcony, others on the other side, Fetherfool and Blunt below.

Will. (bowing) Behold this little Viol, which contains in its narrow Bounds what the whole Universe cannot purchase, if sold to its true Value; this admirable, this miraculous Elixir, drawn from the Hearts of Mandrakes, Phenix Livers, and Tongues of Maremaids, and distill'd by contracted Sun-Beams, has besides the unknown Virtue of curing all Distempers both of Mind and Body, that divine one of animating the Heart of Man to that Degree, that however remiss, cold and cowardly by Nature, he shall become vigorous and brave. Oh stupid and insensible Man, when Honour and secure Renown invites you, to treat it with Neglect, even when you need but passive Valour, to become the Heroes of the Age; receive a thousand Wounds, each of which wou'd let out fleeting Life: Here's that can snatch the parting Soul in its full Career, and bring it back to its native Mansion; baffles grim Death, and disappoints even Fate.

Feth. Oh Pox, an a Man were sure of that now—

Will. Behold, here's Demonstration— [Harlequin stabs himself, and falls as dead.

Feth. Hold, hold, why, what the Devil is the Fellow mad?

Blunt. Why, do'st think he has hurt himself?

Feth. Hurt himself! why, he's murder'd, Man; 'tis flat Felo de se, in any ground in England, if I understand Law, and I have been a Justice o'th' Peace.

Will. See, Gentlemen, he's dead—

Feth. Look ye there now, I'll be gone lest I be taken as an Accessary.

[Going out.

Will. Coffin him, inter him, yet after four and twenty Hours, as many Drops of this divine Elixir give him new Life again; this will recover whole Fields of slain, and all the Dead shall rise and fight again— 'twas this that made the Roman Lemons numerous, and now makes France so formidable, and this alone— may be the Occasion of the loss of Germany. [Pours in Harlequin's Wound, he rises.

Feth. Why this Fellow's the Devil, Ned, that's for certain.

Blunt. Oh plague, a damn'd Conjurer, this—

Will. Come, buy this Coward's Comfort, quickly buy; what Fop would be abus'd, mimick'd and scorn'd, for fear of Wounds can be so easily cured? Who is't wou'd bear the Insolence and Pride of domineering great Men, proud Officers or Magistrates? or who wou'd cringe to Statesmen out of Fear? What Cully wou'd be cuckolded? What foolish Heir undone by cheating Gamesters? What Lord wou'd be lampoon'd? What Poet fear the Malice of his satirical Brother, or Atheist fear to fight for fear of Death? Come buy my Coward's Comfort, quickly buy.

Feth. Egad, Ned, a very excellent thing this; I'll lay out ten Reals upon this Commodity.

[They buy, whilst another Part of the Dance is danc'd.

Will. Behold this little Paper, which contains a Pouder, whose Value surmounts that of Rocks of Diamonds and Hills of Gold; 'twas this made Venus a Goddess, and was given her by Apollo, from her deriv'd to Helen, and in the Sack of Troy lost, till recover'd by me out of some Ruins of Asia. Come, buy it, Ladies, you that wou'd be fair and wear eternal Youth; and you in whom the amorous Fire remains, when all the Charms are fled: You that dress young and gay, and would be thought so, that patch and paint, to fill up sometimes old Furrows on your Brows, and set yourselves for Conquest, tho in vain; here's that will give you aubern Hair, white Teeth, red Lips, and Dimples on your Cheeks: Come, buy it all you that are past bewitching, and wou'd have handsom, young and active Lovers.

Feth. Another good thing, Ned.

Car. I'll lay out a Pistole or two in this, if it have the same Effect on Men.

Will. Come, all you City Wives, that wou'd advance your Husbands to Lord Mayors, come, buy of me new Beauty; this will give it tho now decay'd, as are your Shop Commodities; this will retrieve your Customers, and vend your false and out of fashion'd Wares: cheat, lye, protest and cozen as you please, a handsom Wife makes all a lawful Gain. Come, City Wives, come, buy.

Feth. A most prodigious Fellow!

[They buy, he sits, the other Part is danc'd.

Will. But here, behold the Life and Soul of Man! this is the amorous Pouder, which Venus made and gave the God of Love, which made him first a Deity; you talk of Arrows, Bow, and killing Darts; Fables, poetical Fictions, and no more: 'tis this alone that wounds and fires the Heart, makes Women kind, and equals Men to Gods; 'tis this that makes your great Lady doat on the ill-favour'd Fop; your great Man be jilted by his little Mistress, the Judge cajol'd by his Semstress, and your Politican by his Comedian; your young Lady doat on her decrepid Husband, your Chaplain on my Lady's Waiting-Woman, and the young Squire on the Landry-Maid— In fine, Messieurs,

'Tis this that cures the Lover's Pain, And Celia of her cold Disdain.

Feth. A most devilish Fellow this!

Blunt. Hold, shartlikins, Fetherfool, let's have a Dose or two of this Pouder for quick Dispatch with our Monsters.

Feth. Why Pox, Man, Jugg my Giant would swallow a whole Cart-Load before 'twould operate.

Blunt. No hurt in trying a Paper or two however.

Car. A most admirable Receit, I shall have need on't.

Will. I need say nothing of my divine Baths of Reformation, nor the wonders of the old Oracle of the Box, which resolves all Questions, my Bills sufficiently declare their Virtue. [Sits down. They buy.

Enter Petronella Elenora carried in a Chair, dress'd like a Girl of Fifteen.

Shift. Room there, Gentlemen, room for a Patient.

Blunt. Pray, Seignior, who may this be thus muzzl'd by old Gaffer Time?

Car. One Petronella Elenora, Sir, a famous outworn Curtezan.

Blunt. Elenora! she may be that of Troy for her Antiquity, tho fitter for God Priapus to ravish than Paris.

Shift. Hunt, a word; dost thou see that same formal Politician yonder, on the Jennet, the nobler Animal of the two?

Hunt. What of him?

Shift. 'Tis the same drew on the Captain this Morning, and I must revenge the Affront.

Hunt. Have a care of Revenges in Spain, upon Persons of his Quality.

Shift. Nay, I'll only steal his Horse from under him.

Hunt. Steal it! thou may'st take it by force perhaps; but how safely is a Question.

Shift. I'll warrant thee— shoulder you up one side of his great Saddle, I'll do the like on t'other; then heaving him gently up, Harlequin shall lead the Horse from between his Worship's Legs: All this in the Crowd will not be perceiv'd, where all Eyes are imploy'd on the Mountebank.

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