Char. Ha,—What's the matter here?

Scar. Seignior Don Charmante. [Then he struts courageously in with 'em.

Char. What, Cinthio in a Rage! Who's the unlucky Object?

Cin. All Man and Woman Kind: Elaria's false.

Char. Elaria false! take heed, sure her nice Virtue Is proof against the Vices of her Sex. Say rather Bellemante, She who by Nature's light and wavering. The Town contains not such a false Impertinent. This Evening I surpriz'd her in her Chamber, Writing of Verses, and between her Lines Some Spark had newly pen'd his proper Stuff. Curse of the Jilt, I'll be her Fool no more.

Har. I doubt you are mistaken in that, Sir, for 'twas I was the Spark that writ the proper Stuff To do you service.

Char. Thou!

Scar. Ay, we that spend our Lives and Fortunes here to serve you,—to be us'd like Pimps and Scoundrels. Come, Sir, satisfy him who 'twas was hid i'th' Closet, when he came in and found you.

Cin. Ha,—is't possible? Was it Charmante?

Char. Was it you, Cinthio? Pox on't, what Fools are we, we cou'd not know one another by Instinct?

Scar. Well, well, dispute no more this clear Case, but let's hasten to your Mistresses.

Cin. I'm asham'd to appear before Elaria.

Char. And I to Bellemante.

Scar. Come, come, take Heart of Grace; pull your Hats down over your Eyes; put your Arms across; sigh and look scurvily; your simple Looks are ever a Token of Repentance: come—come along.

[Exeunt Omnes.



SCENE III. Changes to the Inside of the House. The Front of the Scene is only a Curtain or Hangings, to be drawn up at Pleasure.

Enter Elaria, Bellemante, Mopsophil, Florinda, and Ladies, dress'd in Masking Habits.

Ela. I am extremely pleas'd with these Habits, Cousin.

Bell. They are a la Gothic and Uncommune.

Flor. Your Lovers have a very good Fancy, Cousin, I long to see 'em.

Ela. And so do I. I wonder Scaramouch stays so, and what Success he has.

Bell. You have no cause to doubt, you can so easily acquit your self; but I, what shall I do? who can no more imagine who shou'd write those Boremes, than who I shall love next, if I break off with Charmante.

Flor. If he be a Man of Honour, Cousin, when a Maid protests her Innocence—

Bell. Ay, but he's a Man of Wit too, Cousin, and knows when Women protest most, they likely lye most.

Ela. Most commonly, for Truth needs no asseveration.

Bell. That's according to the Disposition of your Lover, for some believe you most, when you most abuse and cheat 'em; some are so obstinate, they wou'd damn a Woman with Protesting, before she can convince 'em.

Ela. Such a one is not worth convincing, I wou'd not make the World wise at the expence of a Virtue.

Bell. Nay, he shall e'en remain as Heaven made him for me, since there are Men enough for all uses.

Enter Charmante and Cinthio, dress'd in their Gothic Habits, Scaramouch, Harlequin and Musick. Charmante and Cinthio kneel.

Cin. Can you forgive us?

[Elaria takes him up.

Bell. That, Cinthio, you're convinc'd, I do not wonder; but how Charmante is inspir'd, I know not.

[Takes him up.

Char. Let it suffice, I'm satisfy'd, my Bellemante.

Ela. Pray know my Cousin Florinda.

[They salute the Lady.

Bell. Come, let us not lose time, since we are all Friends.

Char. The best use we can make of it, is to talk of Love.

Bell. Oh! we shall have time enough for that hereafter; besides, you may make Love in Dancing as well as in Sitting; you may gaze, sigh, and press the Hand, and now and then receive a Kiss, what wou'd you more?

Char. Yes, wish a little more.

Bell. We were unreasonable to forbid you that cold Joy, nor shall you wish long in vain, if you bring Matters so about, to get us with my Uncle's Consent.

Ela. Our Fortunes depending solely on his Pleasure, which are too considerable to lose.

Cin. All things are order'd as I have written you at large; our Scenes and all our Properties are ready; we have no more to do but to banter the old Gentleman into a little more Faith, which the next Visit of our new Cabalist Charmante will complete.

[The Musick plays.

Enter some Anticks, and dance. They all sit the while.

Ela. Your Dancers have performed well, but 'twere fit we knew who we have trusted with this Evening's Intrigue.

Cin. Those, Madam, who are to assist us in carrying on a greater Intrigue, the gaining of you. They are our Kinsmen.

Ela. Then they are doubly welcome.

[Here is a Song in Dialogue, with Flute Doux and Harpsicals, between a Shepherd and Shepherdess; which ended, they all dance a Figure Dance.

Cin. Hark, what Noise is that? sure 'tis in the next Room.

Doctor [Within.] Scaramouch, Scaramouch!

[Scaramouch runs to the Door, and holds it fast.

Scar. Ha,—the Devil in the likeness of my old Master's Voice, for it is impossible it should be he himself.

Char. If it be he, how got he in? did you not secure the Doors?

Ela. He always has a Key to open 'em. Oh! what shall we do? there's no escaping him; he's in the next Room, through which you are to pass.

Doct. [Within.] Scaramouch, Knave, where are you?

Scar. 'Tis he, 'tis he, follow me all—

[He goes with all the Company behind the Front Curtain.

Doct. [Within.] I tell you, Sirrah, I heard the noise of Fiddles.

_Peter. [_Within.]_ No surely, Sir, 'twas a Mistake.

[Knocking at the Door.

[Scaramouch having placed them all in the Hanging, in which they make the Figures, where they stand without Motion in Postures, he comes out. He opens the Door with a Candle in his Hand.

Enter the Doctor and Peter with a Light.

Scar. Bless me, Sir! Is it you—or your Ghost?

Doct. 'Twere good for you, Sir, if I were a thing of Air; but as I am a substantial Mortal, I will lay it on as substantially— [Canes him. He cries.

Scar. What d'ye mean, Sir? what d'ye mean?

Doct. Sirrah, must I stand waiting your Leisure, while you are roguing here? I will reward ye. [Beats him.

Scar. Ay, and I shall deserve it richly, Sir, when you know all.

Doct. I guess all, Sirrah, and I heard all, and you shall be rewarded for all. Where have you hid the Fiddles, you Rogue?

Scar. Fiddles, Sir!

Doct. Ay, Fiddles, Knave.

Scar. Fiddles, Sir!—Where?

Doct. Here, here I heard 'em, thou false Steward of thy Master's Treasure.

Scar. Fiddles, Sir! Sure 'twas Wind got into your Head, and whistled in your Ears, riding so late, Sir.

Doct. Ay, thou false Varlet, there's another debt I owe thee, for bringing me so damnable a Lye: my Brother's well—I met his Valet but a League from Town, and found thy Roguery out. [Beats him. He cries.

Scar. Is this the Reward I have for being so diligent since you went?

Doct. In what, thou Villain? in what?

[The Curtain is drawn up, and discovers the Hangings where all of them stand.

Scar. Why, look you, Sir, I have, to surprize you with Pleasure, against you came home, been putting up this Piece of Tapestry, the best in Italy, for the Rareness of the Figures, Sir.

Doct. Ha! hum—It is indeed a Stately Piece of Work; how came I by 'em?

Scar. 'Twas sent your Reverence from the Virtuoso, or some of the Cabalists.

Doct. I must confess, the Workmanship is excellent;—but still I do insist I heard the Musick.

Scar. 'Twas then the tuning of the Spheres, some Serenade, Sir, from the Inhabitants of the Moon.

Doct. Hum, from the Moon,—and that may be.

Scar. Lord, d'ye think I wou'd deceive your Reverence?

Doct. From the Moon, a Serenade,—I see no signs on't here, indeed it must be so—I'll think on't more at leisure. [Aside. —Prithee what Story's this? [Looks on the Hangings.

Scar. Why, Sir,—'Tis—

Doct. Hold up the Candles higher, and nearer.

[Peter _and_ Scaramouch _hold Candles near. He takes a Perspective, and looks through it; and coming nearer_ Harlequin, _who is placed on a Tree in the Hangings, hits him on the Head with his Trunchion. He starts and looks about_. Harlequin _sits still.

Scar. Sir—

Doct. What was that struck me?

Scar. Struck you, Sir! Imagination.

Doct. Can my Imagination feel, Sirrah?

Scar. Oh, the most tenderly of any part about one, Sir!

Doct. Hum—that may be.

Scar. Are you a great Philosopher, and know not that, Sir?

Doct. This Fellow has a glimpse of Profundity. [Aside. Looks again. —I like the Figures well.

Scar. You will, when you see 'em by Day-light, Sir.

[Har. hits him again. The Doctor sees him.

Doct. Ha,—Is that Imagination too?—Betray'd, betray'd, undone! run for my Pistols, call up my Servants, Peter, a Plot upon my Daughter and my Niece!

[Runs out with Peter. Scaramouch puts out the Candle, they come out of the Hanging, which is drawn away. He places 'em in a Row just at the Entrance.

Scar. Here, here, fear nothing, hold by each other, that when I go out, all may go; that is, slip out, when you hear the Doctor is come in again, which he will certainly do, and all depart to your respective Lodgings.

Cin. And leave thee to bear the Brunt?

Scar. Take you no care for that, I'll put it into my Bill of Charges, and be paid all together.

Enter the Doctor with Pistols, and Peter.

Doct. What, by dark? that shall not save you, Villains, Traitors to my Glory and Repose.—Peter, hold fast the Door, let none 'scape.

[They all slip out.

Pet. I'll warrant you, Sir.

[Doctor gropes about, stamps and calls.

Doct. Lights there—Lights—I'm sure they cou'd not 'scape.

Pet. Impossible, Sir.

Enter Scaramouch undress'd in his Shirt, with a Light; he starts.

Scar. Bless me!—what's here?

Doct. Ha—Who art thou? [Amaz'd to see him enter so.

Scar. I, who the Devil are you, and you go to that? [Rubs his Eyes, and brings the Candle nearer, looks on him. —Mercy upon us!—Why, what, is't you, Sir, return'd so soon?

Doct. Return'd! [Looking sometimes on him, sometimes about.

Scar. Ay, Sir, did you not go out of Town last night, to your Brother the Advocate?

Doct. Thou Villain, thou question'st me, as if thou knew'st not that I was return'd.

Scar. I know, Sir! how shou'd I know? I'm sure I am but just awakened from the sweetest Dream.—

Doct. You dream still, Sirrah, but I shall wake your Rogueship.—Were you not here but now, shewing me a piece of Tapestry, you Villain?

Scar. Tapestry!

[Mopsophil listning all the while.

Doct. Yes, Rogue, yes, for which I'll have thy Life. [Offering a Pistol.

Scar. Are you stark mad, Sir? or do I dream still?

Doct. Tell me, and tell me quickly, Rogue, who were those Traitors that were hid but now in the Disguise of a piece of Hangings. [Holds the Pistol to his Breast.

Scar. Bless me! you amaze me, Sir. What conformity has every Word you say, to my rare Dream! Pray let me feel you, Sir,—Are you human?

Doct. You shall feel I am, Sirrah, if thou confess not.

Scar. Confess, Sir! What shall I confess?—I understand not your Cabalistical Language; but in mine, I confess that you wak'd me from the rarest Dream—Where methought the Emperor of the Moon World was in our House, dancing and revelling; and methoughts his Grace was fallen desperately in love with Mistriss Elaria, and that his Brother, the Prince, Sir, of Thunderland, was also in love with Mistriss Bellemante; and methoughts they descended to court 'em in your Absence—And that at last you surpriz'd 'em, and that they transform'd themselves into a Suit of Hangings to deceive you. But at last, methought you grew angry at something, and they all fled to Heaven again; and after a deal of Thunder and Lightning, I wak'd, Sir, and hearing human Voices here, came to see what the Matter was.

[This while the Doctor lessens his signs of Rage by degrees, and at last stands in deep Contemplation.

Doct. May I credit this?

Scar. Credit it! By all the Honour of your House, by my unseparable Veneration for the Mathematicks, 'tis true, Sir.

Doct. That famous Rosycrusian, who yesterday visited me, and told me the Emperor of the Moon was in love with a fair Mortal—This Dream is Inspiration in this Fellow—He must have wondrous Virtue in him, to be worthy of these divine Intelligences. [Aside.—But if that Mortal shou'd be Elaria! but no more, I dare not yet suppose it—perhaps the thing was real and no Dream, for oftentimes the grosser part is hurried away in Sleep by the force of Imagination, and is wonderfully agitated —This Fellow might be present in his Sleep,—of this we've frequent Instances—I'll to my Daughter and my Niece, and hear what Knowledge they may have of this.

Mop. Will you so? I'll secure you, the Frolick shall go round. [Aside, and Exit.

Doct. Scaramouch, if you have not deceiv'd me in this Matter, time will convince me farther; if it rest here, I shall believe you false.

Scar. Good Sir, suspend your Judgment and your Anger till then.

Doct. I'll do't, go back to bed.

[Ex. Doct. and Peter.

Scar. No, Sir, 'tis Morning now—and I'm up for all day.—This Madness is a pretty sort of pleasant Disease, when it tickles but in one Vein—Why, here's my Master now, as great a Scholar, as grave and wise a Man, in all Argument and Discourse, as can be met with; yet name but the Moon, and he runs into ridicule, and grows as mad as the Wind.

Well, Doctor, if thou canst be madder yet, We'll find a Medicine that shall cure your Fit,

—Better than all Galenicus.

[Goes out.



SCENE IV. Draws off to Bellemante's Chamber, discovers Elaria, Bellemante and Mopsophil in Night-Gowns.

Mop. You have your Lessons, stand to it bravely, and the Town's our own, Madam.

[They put themselves in Postures of Sleeping, leaning on the Table, Mopsophil lying at their Feet. Enter Doctor softly.

Doct. Ha, not in Bed! this gives me mortal Fears.

Bell. Ah, Prince— [She speaks as in her Sleep.

Doct. Ha, Prince! [Goes nearer, and listens.

Bell. How little Faith I give to all your Courtship, who leaves our Orb so soon. [In a feign'd Voice.

Doct. Ha, said she Orb? [Goes nearer.

Bell. But since you are of a celestial Race, And easily can penetrate Into the utmost limits of the Thought, Why shou'd I fear to tell you of your Conquest? —And thus implore your Aid.

[Rises and runs to the Doctor; kneels, and holds him fast. He shews signs of Joy.

Doct. I am ravish'd!

Bell. Ah, Prince Divine, take pity on a Mortal.

Doct. I am rapt!

Bell. And take me with you to the World above!

Doct. The Moon, the Moon she means; I am transported, over-joy'd, and ecstasyd! [Leaping and jumping from her Hands, she seems to wake.

Bell. Ha, my Uncle come again to interrupt us!

Doct. Hide nothing from me, my dear Bellemante, since all already is discover'd to me—and more.

Ela. Oh, why have you wak'd me from the softest Dream that ever Maid was blest with?

Doct. What—what, my best Elaria? [With over-joy.

Ela. Methought I entertain'd a Demi-God, one of the gay Inhabitants of the Moon.

Bell. I'm sure mine was no Dream—I wak'd, I heard, I saw, I spoke—and danc'd to the Musick of the Spheres; and methought my glorious Lover ty'd a Diamond Chain about my Arm—and see 'tis all substantial. [Shows her Arm.

Ela. And mine a Ring, of more than mortal Lustre.

Doct. Heaven keep me moderate! lest excess of Joy shou'd make my Virtue less. [Stifling his Joy. —There is a wondrous Mystery in this, A mighty Blessing does attend your Fates. Go in and pray to the chaste Powers above To give you Virtue for such Rewards. [They go in. —How this agrees with what the learned Cabalist inform'd me of last Night! He said, that great Iredonozor, the Emperor of the Moon, was enamour'd on a fair Mortal. It must be so—and either he descended to court my Daughter personally, which for the rareness of the Novelty, she takes to be a Dream; or else, what they and I beheld, was visionary, by way of a sublime Intelligence:—And possibly—'tis only thus: the People of that World converse with Mortals.—I must be satisfy'd in this main Point of deep Philosophy.

I'll to my Study,—for I cannot rest, Till I this weighty Mystery have discuss'd.

[Ex. very gravely.



SCENE V. The Garden.

Enter Scaramouch with a Ladder.

Scar. Though I am come off en Cavalier with my Master, I am not with my Mistress, whom I promised to console this Night, and 'tis but just I shou'd make good this Morning; 'twill be rude to surprize her sleeping, and more gallant to wake her with a Serenade at her Window.

[Sets the Ladder to her Window, fetches his Lute and goes up the ladder.

He plays and sings this Song.

_When Maidens are young and in their Spring Of Pleasure, of Pleasure, let 'em take their full Swing, full Swing,—full Swing, And love, and dance, and play, and sing. For_ Silvia, _believe it, when Youth is done, There's nought but hum drum, hum drum, hum drum; There's nought but hum drum, hum drum, hum drum.

Then_ Silvia _be wise—be wise—be wise, Though Painting and Dressing for awhile are Supplies, And may—surprise— But when the Fire's going out in your Eyes, It twinkles, it twinkles, it twinkles, and dies. And then to hear Love, to hear Love from you, I'd as live hear an Owl cry—Wit to woo, Wit to woo, wit to woo_.

Enter Mopsophil above.

Mop. What woful Ditty-making Mortal's this, That e'er the Lark her early Note has sung, Does doleful Love beneath my Casement thrum? -Ah, Seignior Scaramouch, is it you?

Scar. Who shou'd it be that takes such pains to sue!

Mop. Ah, Lover most true blue.

Enter Harlequin in Woman's Clothes.

Har. If I can now but get admittance, I shall not only deliver the young Ladies their Letters from their Lovers, but get some opportunity, in this Disguise, to slip this Billet-Doux into Mopsophil's Hand, and bob my Comrade Scaramouch.—Ha, What do I see?—My Mistress at the Window, courting my Rival! Ah Gipsy!

Scar. But we lose precious time, since you design me a kind Hour in your Chamber.

Har. Oh Traitor!

Mop. You'll be sure to keep it from Harlequin.

Har. Ah yes, he, hang him, Fool, he takes you for a Saint.

Scar. Harlequin! Hang him, shotten Herring.

Har. Ay, a Cully, a Noddy.

Mop. A meer Zany.

Har. Ah, hard-hearted Turk.

Mop. Fit for nothing but a Cuckold.

Har. Monster of Ingratitude! How shall I be reveng'd? [Scar, going over the Balcony. —Hold, hold, thou perjur'd Traitor. [Cries out in a Woman's Voice.

Mop. Ha, discover'd!—A Woman in the Garden!

Har. Come down, come down, thou false perfidious Wretch.

Scar. Who in the Devil's Name, art thou? And to whom dost thou speak?

Har. To thee, that false Deceiver, thou hast broke thy Vows, thy lawful Vows of Wedlock. [Bawling out. Oh, oh, that I shou'd live to see the Day. [Crying.

Scar. Who mean you, Woman?

Har. Whom shou'd I mean but thou,—my lawful Spouse?

Mop. Oh Villain! Lawful Spouse!—Let me come to her.

[Scar, comes down, as Mopsophil flings out of the Balcony.

Scar. The Woman's mad—hark ye, Jade, how long have you been thus distracted?

Har. E'er since I lov'd and trusted thee, false Varlet.—See here, the Witness of my Love and Shame.

[_Bawls, and points to her Belly.

Just then_ Mopsophil _enters_.

Mop. How! with Child! Out, Villain! was I made a Property?

Scar. Hear me.

Har. Oh, thou Heathen Christian! was not one Woman enough?

Mop. Ay, Sirrah, answer to that.

Scar. I shall be sacrific'd.

Mop. I am resolv'd to marry to morrow—either to the Apothecary or the Farmer, Men I never saw, to be reveng'd on thee, thou termagant Infidel.

Enter the Doctor.

Doct. What Noise, what Out-cry, what Tumult's this?

Har. Ha, the Doctor!—What shall I do? [Gets to the Door, Scar. pulls her in.

Doct. A Woman! some Baud I am sure;—Woman, what's your Business here? ha.

Har. I came, an't like your Seigniorship, to Madam the Governante here, to serve her in the Quality of a Fille de Chambre to the young Ladies.

Doct. A Fille de Chambre! 'tis so, a she Pimp.

Har. Ah, Seignior— [Makes his little dapper Leg, instead of a Curt'sy.

Doct. How now, what, do you mock me?

Har. Oh Seignior! [Gets nearer the Door.

Mop. Stay, stay, Mistress; and what Service are you able to do the Seignior's Daughters?

Har. Is this Seignior Doctor Baliardo, Madam?

Mop. Yes.

Har. Oh! he's a very handsome Gentleman—indeed.

Doct. Ay, ay, what Service can you do, Mistress?

Har. Why, Seignior, I can tie a Crevat the best of any Person in Naples, and I can comb a Periwig—and I can—

Doct. Very proper Service for young Ladies; you, I believe, have been Fille de Chambre to some young Cavaliers?

Har. Most true, Seignior; why shou'd not the Cavaliers keep Filles de Chambre, as well as great Ladies Valets de Chambre?

Doct. Indeed 'tis equally reasonable.—'Tis a Baud. [Aside. But have you never serv'd Ladies?

Har. Oh yes, I serv'd a Parson's Wife?

Doct. Is that a great Lady?

Har. Ay, surely, Sir, what is she else? for she wore her Mantuas of Brocade d'or, Petticoats lac'd up to the Gathers, her Points, her Patches, Paints and Perfumes, and sat in the uppermost place in the Church too.

Mop. But have you never serv'd Countesses and Dutchesses?

Har. Oh, yes, Madam; the last I serv'd, was an Alderman's Wife in the City.

Mop. Was that a Countess or a Dutchess?

Har. Ay, certainly—for they have all the Money; and then for Clothes, Jewels, and rich Furniture, and eating, they out-do the very Vice-Reine her self.

Doct. This is a very ignorant running Baud,—therefore first search her for Billets-Doux, and then have her pump'd.

Har. Ah, Seignior,—Seignior.

[Scar. searches him, finds Letters.

Scar. Ha, to Elaria—and Bellemante! [Reads the Outside, pops 'em into his Bosom. These are from their Lovers.—Ha, a Note to Mopsophil.—Oh, Rogue! have I found you?

Har. If you have, 'tis but Trick for your Trick, Seignior Scaramouch, and you may spare the Pumping.

Scar. For once, Sirrah, I'll bring you off, and deliver your Letters. —Sir, do you not know who this is? Why, 'tis a Rival of mine, who put on this Disguise to cheat me of Mistress Mopsophil.—See, here's a Billet to her.

Doct. What is he?

Scar. A Mungrel Dancing-Master; therefore, Sir, since all the Injury's mine, I'll pardon him for a Dance, and let the Agility of his Heels save his Bones, with your Permission, Sir.

Doct. With all my Heart, and am glad he comes off so comically.

[Harlequin dances.

[A knocking at the Gate. Scar. goes and returns.

Scar. Sir, Sir, here's the rare Philosopher who was here yesterday.

Doct. Give him Entrance, and all depart.

Enter Charmante.

Char. Blest be those Stars that first conducted me to so much Worth and Virtue; you are their Darling, Sir, for whom they wear their brightest Lustre. Your Fortune is establish'd, you are made, Sir.

Doct. Let me contain my Joy. [Keeping in an impatient Joy. —May I be worthy, Sir, to apprehend you?

Char. After long searching, watching, fasting, praying, and using all the virtuous means in Nature, whereby we solely do attain the highest Knowledge in Philosophy; it was resolv'd, by strong Intelligence—you were the happy Sire of that bright Nymph, that had infascinated, charm'd, and conquer'd the mighty Emperor Iredonozor, the Monarch of the Moon.

Doct. I am undone with Joy! ruin'd with Transport. [Aside. —Can it—can it, Sir,—be possible? [Stifling his Joy, which breaks out.

Char. Receive the Blessing, Sir, with Moderation.

Doct. I do, Sir, I do.

Char. This very Night, by their great Art, they find, He will descend, and shew himself in Glory. An Honour, Sir, no Mortal has receiv'd This sixty hundred years.

Doct. Hum—say you so, Sir; no Emperor ever descend this sixty hundred years? [Looks sad. —Was I deceiv'd last Night? [Aside.

Char. Oh! yes, Sir, often in Disguise, in several Shapes and Forms, which did of old occasion so many fabulous Tales of all the Shapes of Jupiter—but never in their proper Glory, Sir, as Emperors. This is an Honour only design'd to you.

Doct. And will his Grace—be here in Person, Sir? [Joyful.

Char. In Person—and with him, a Man of mighty Quality, Sir, 'tis thought, the Prince of Thunderland—but that's but whisper'd, Sir, in the Cabal, and that he loves your Niece.

Doct. Miraculous! how this agrees with all I've seen and heard —To Night, say you, Sir?

Char. So 'tis conjectur'd, Sir,—some of the Cabalists are of opinion, that last Night there was some Sally from the Moon.

Doct. About what Hour, Sir?

Char. The Meridian of the Night, Sir, about the Hours of Twelve or One; but who descended, or in what Shape, is yet uncertain.

Doct. This I believe, Sir.

Char. Why, Sir?

Doct. May I communicate a Secret of that nature?

Char. To any of the Cabalists, but none else.

Doct. Then know—last Night, my Daughter and my Niece were entertain'd by those illustrious Heroes.

Char. Who, Sir, the Emperor, and Prince his Cousin?

Doct. Most certain, Sir. But whether they appear'd in solid Bodies, or Fantomical, is yet a Question; for at my unlucky approach, they all transform'd themselves into a Piece of Hangings.

Char. 'Tis frequent, Sir, their Shapes are numerous; and 'tis also in their power to transform all they touch, by virtue of a certain Stone they call the Ebula.

Doct. That wondrous Ebula, which Gonzales had?

Char. The same, by virtue of which, all Weight was taken from him, and then with ease the lofty Traveller flew from Parnassus Hill, and from Hymethus Mount, and high Gerania, and Acrocorinthus, thence to Taygetus, so to Olympus Top, from whence he had but one step to the Moon. Dizzy he grants he was.

Doct. No wonder, Sir, Oh happy great Gonzales!

Char. Your Virtue, Sir, will render you as happy—but I must haste— this Night prepare your Daughter and your Niece, and let your House be dress'd, perfum'd, and clean.

Doct. It shall be all perform'd, Sir.

Char. Be modest, Sir, and humble in your Elevation; for nothing shews the Wit so poor, as Wonder, nor Birth so mean, as Pride.

Doct. I humbly thank your Admonition, Sir, and shall, in all I can, struggle with human Frailty.

[Brings Char. to the Door bare. Exeunt.

Enter Scaramouch, peeping at the other Door.

Scar. So, so, all things go gloriously forward, but my own Amour, and there is no convincing this obstinate Woman, that 'twas that Rogue Harlequin in Disguise, claim'd me; so that I cannot so much as come to deliver the young Ladies their Letters from their Lovers. I must get in with this damn'd Mistress of mine, or all our Plot will be spoil'd for want of Intelligence. —Hum, the Devil does not use to fail me at a dead Lift. I must deliver these Letters, and I must have this Wench—though but to be reveng'd on her for abusing me—Let me see—she is resolv'd for the Apothecary or the Farmer. Well, say no more, honest Scaramouch; thou shalt find a Friend at need of me—and if I do not fit you with a Spouse, say that a Woman has out-witted me.

[Exit.

The End of the Second Act.



ACT III.

SCENE I. The Street, with the Town-Gate, where an Officer stands with a Staff like a London Constable.

Enter Harlequin riding in a Calash, comes through the Gate towards the Stage, dress'd like a Gentleman sitting in it. The Officer lays hold of his Horse.

Off. Hold, hold, Sir, you I suppose know the Customs that are due to this City of Naples, from all Persons that pass the Gates in Coach, Chariot, Calash, or Siege Volant.

Har. I am not ignorant of the Custom, Sir, but what's that to me.

Off. Not to you, Sir! why, what Privilege have you above the rest?

Har. Privilege, for what, Sir?

Off. Why, for passing, Sir, with any of the before-named Carriages.

Har. Art mad?—Dost not see I am a plain Baker, and this my Cart, that comes to carry Bread for the Vice-Roy's, and the City's Use?—ha.

Off. Are you mad, Sir, to think I cannot see a Gentleman Farmer and a Calash, from a Baker and a Cart.

Har. Drunk by this Day—and so early too? Oh, you're a special Officer? unhand my Horse, Sirrah, or you shall pay for all the Damage you do me.

Off. Hey Day! here's a fine Cheat upon the Vice-Roy: Sir, pay me, or I'll seize your Horse. [Har. strikes him. They scuffle a little. —Nay, and you be so brisk, I'll call the Clerk from his Office. [Calls.]—Mr. Clerk, Mr. Clerk.

[_Goes to the Entrance to call the_ Clerk, _the mean time_ Har. _whips a Frock over himself, and puts down the hind part of the Chariot, and then 'tis a Cart.

Enter_ Clerk.

Cler. What's the matter here?

Off. Here's a Fellow, Sir, will persuade me, his Calash is a Cart, and refuses the Customs for passing the Gate.

Cler. A Calash—Where?—I see only a Carter and his Cart.

[The Officer looks on him.

Off. Ha, what a Devil, was I blind?

Har. Mr. Clerk, I am a Baker, that came with Bread to sell, and this Fellow here has stopt me this Hour, and made me lose the sale of my Ware; and being drunk, will out-face me I am a Farmer, and this Cart a Calash.

Cler. He's in an Error, Friend, pass on.

Har. No, Sir, I'll have satisfaction first, or the Vice-Roy shall know how he's serv'd by drunken Officers, that are a Nuisance to a Civil Government.

Cler. What do you demand, Friend?

Har. Demand,—I demand a Crown, Sir.

Off. This is very hard—Mr. Clerk—If ever I saw in my Life, I thought I saw a Gentleman and a Calash.

Cler. Come, come, gratify him, and see better hereafter.

Off. Here, Sir,—if I must, I must. [Gives him a Crown.

Cler. Pass on, Friend. [Ex. Clerk.

[Har. unseen, puts up the back of his Calash, and whips off his Frock, and goes to drive on. The Officer looks on him, and stops him again.

Off. Hum, I'll swear it is a Calash—Mr. Clerk—Mr. Clerk, come back, come back. [Runs out to call him. He changes as before.

Enter Officer and Clerk.

—Come, Sir, let your own Eyes convince you, Sir.

Cler. Convince me, of what, you Sot?

Off. This is a Gentleman, and that a—ha— [Looks about on Har.

Cler. Stark drunk! Sirrah, if you trouble me at every Mistake of yours thus, you shall quit your Office.

Off. I beg your Pardon, Sir, I am a little in Drink I confess—a little blind and mad—Sir, —This must be the Devil, that's certain.

[The Clerk goes out.

[Har. puts up his Calash again, and pulls off his Frock and drives out.

—Well, now to my thinking, 'tis as plain a Calash again as ever I saw in my Life, and yet I'm satisfy'd 'tis nothing but a Cart.

[Ex.



SCENE II. Changes to the Doctor's House. The Hall.

Enter Scaramouch in a Chair, which is set down and open'd on all sides, and on the top represents an Apothecary's Shop, the Inside being painted with Shelves, and rows of Pots and Bottles; Scaramouch sitting in it dress'd in Black, with a short black Cloke, a Ruff, and little Hat.

Scar. The Devil's in't, if either the Doctor, my Master, or Mopsophil, know me in this Disguise—And thus I may not only gain my Mistress, and out-wit Harlequin, but deliver the Ladies those Letters from their Lovers, which I took out of his Pocket this Morning; and who wou'd suspect an Apothecary for a Pimp?—Nor can the Jade Mopsophil, in Honour, refuse a Person of my Gravity, and so well set up.— [Pointing to his Shop. —Hum, the Doctor here first, this is not so well, but I'm prepar'd with Impudence for all Encounters.

Enter the Doctor. Scaramouch salutes him gravely.

—Most Reverend Doctor Baliardo. [Bows.

Doct. Seignior— [Bows.

Scar. I might through great Pusillanimity, blush to give you this Anxiety, did not I opine you were as gracious as communicative and eminent; and though you have no Cognisance of me, your humble Servant,—yet I have of you,—you being so gravely fam'd for your admirable Skill both in Galenical and Paracelsian Phaenomena's, and other approv'd Felicities in Vulnerary Emeticks, and purgative Experiences.

Doct. Seignior,—your Opinion honours me—rare Man this.

Scar. And though I am at present busied in writing—those few Observations I have accumulated in my Peregrinations, Sir; yet the Ambition I aspir'd to, of being an ocular and aurial Witness of your Singularity, made me trespass on your sublimer Affairs.

Doct. Seignior—

Scar.—Besides a violent Inclination, Sir, of being initiated into the Denomination of your learned Family, by the Conjugal Circumference of a Matrimonial Tye, with that singularly accomplish'd Person—Madam, the Governante of your Hostel—

Doct. Hum—A Sweet-heart for Mopsophil! [Aside.

Scar. And if I may obtain your Condescension to my Hymenaeal Propositions, I doubt not my Operation with the Fair One.

Doct. Seignior, she's much honour'd in the Overture, and my Abilities shall not be wanting to fix the Concord.—But have you been a Traveller, Sir?

Scar. Without Circumlocutions, Sir, I have seen all the Regions beneath the Sun and Moon.

Doct. Moon, Sir! You never travell'd thither, Sir?

Scar. Not in Propria Persona, Seignior, but by Speculation, I have, and made most considerable Remarks on that incomparable Terra Firma, of which I have the compleatest Map in Christendom—and which Gonzales himself omitted in his Cosmographia of the Lunar Mundus.

Doct. A Map of the Lunar Mundus, Sir! may I crave the Honour of seeing it?

Scar. You shall, Sir, together with a Map of Terra Incognita; a great Rarity, indeed, Sir.

Enter Bellemante.

Doct. Jewels, Sir, worth a King's Ransom!

Bell. Ha,—What Figure of a Thing have we here, bantering my credulous Uncle?—This must be some Scout sent from our Forlorn Hope, to discover the Enemy, and bring in fresh Intelligence.—Hum, that Wink tipt me some Tidings, and she deserves not a good Look, who understands not the Language of the Eyes.—Sir, Dinner's on the Table.

Doct. Let it wait, I am employ'd—

[She creeps to the other side of Scaramouch, who makes Signs with his Hand to her.

Bell. Ha, 'tis so:—This Fellow has some Novel for us, some Letter or Instructions, but how to get it—

[As Scar. talks to the Doctor, he takes the Letters by degrees out of his Pocket, and unseen, given 'em Bellemante behind him.

Doct. But this Map, Seignior; I protest you have fill'd me with Curiosity. Has it signify'd all things so exactly, say you?

Scar. Omitted nothing, Seignior, no City, Town, Village, or Villa; no Castle, River, Bridge, Lake, Spring, or Mineral.

Doct. Are any, Sir, of those admirable Mineral Waters there, so frequent in our World?

Scar. In abundance, Sir: the Famous Garamanteen, a young Italian, Sir, lately come from thence, gives an account of an excellent Scaturigo, that has lately made an Ebulation there, in great Reputation with the Lunary Ladies.

Doct. Indeed, Sir! be pleas'd, Seignior, to 'solve me some Queries that may enode some appearances of the Virtue of the Water you speak of.

Scar. Pox upon him, what Questions he asks—but I must on. [Aside.] Why, Sir, you must know,—the Tincture of this Water upon Stagnation ceruleates, and the Crocus upon the Stones flaveces; this he observes —to be, Sir, the Indication of a generous Water.

Doct. Hum— [Gravely nodding.

Scar. Now, Sir, be pleas'd to observe the three Regions: if they be bright, without doubt Mars is powerful; if the middle Region or Camera be palled, Filia Solis is breeding.

Doct. Hum.

Scar. And then the third Region, if the Faeces be volatile, the Birth will soon come in Balneo. This I observed also in the Laboratory of that ingenious Chymist Lysidono, and with much Pleasure animadverted that Mineral of the same Zenith and Nadir, of that now so famous Water in England, near that famous Metropolis, call'd Islington.

Doct. Seignior—

Scar. For, Sir, upon the Infusion, the Crows Head immediately procures the Seal of Hermes; and had not Lac Virginis been too soon suck'd up, I believe we might have seen the Consummation of Amalgama.

[Bellemante having got her Letters, goes off. She makes Signs to him to stay a little. He nods.

Doct. Most likely, Sir.

Scar. But, Sir, this Garamanteen relates the strangest Operation of a Mineral in the Lunar World, that ever I heard of.

Doct. As how, I pray, Sir?

Scar. Why, Sir, a Water impregnated to a Circulation with prima Materia; upon my Honour, Sir, the strongest I ever drank of.

Doct. How, Sir! did you drink of it?

Scar. I only speak the words of Garamanteen, Sir. —Pox on him, I shall be trapt. [Aside.

Doct. Cry Mercy, Sir.— [Bows.

Scar. The Lunary Physicians, Sir, call it Urinam Vulcani, it calybeates every ones Excrements more or less according to the Gradus of the natural Calor.—To my Knowledge, Sir, a Smith of a very fiery Constitution is grown very opulent by drinking these Waters.

Doct. How, Sir, grown rich by drinking the Waters, and to your Knowledge?

Scar. The Devil's in my Tongue. To my Knowledge, Sir; for what a Man of Honour relates, I may safely affirm.

Doct. Excuse me, Seignior— [Puts off his Hat again gravely.

Scar. For, Sir, conceive me how he grew rich! since he drank those Waters he never buys any Iron, but hammers it out of Stercus Proprius.

Enter Bellemante with a Billet.

Bell. Sir, 'tis three a Clock, and Dinner will be cold.

[Goes behind Scaramouch, and gives him the Note and goes out.

Doct. I come, Sweet-heart; but this is wonderful.

Scar. Ay, Sir, and if at any time Nature be too infirm, and he prove Costive, he has no more to do, but apply a Load-stone ad Anum.

Doct. Is't possible?

Scar. Most true, Sir, and that facilitates the Journey per Viscera. —But I detain you, Sir;—another time, Sir,—I will now only beg the Honour of a Word or two with the Governante, before I go.

Doct. Sir, she shall wait on you, and I shall be proud of the Honour of your Conversation. [Ex. Doctor.

Enter to him Harlequin, dress'd like a Farmer, as before.

Har. Hum—What have we here, a Taylor or a Tumbler?

Scar. Ha—Who's this?—Hum—What if it shou'd be the Farmer that the Doctor has promis'd Mopsophil to? My Heart misgives me. [They look at each other a while. Who wou'd you speak with, Friend?

Har. This is, perhaps, my Rival the Apothecary.—Speak with, Sir! why, what's that to you?

Scar. Have you Affairs with Seignor Doctor, Sir?

Har. It may be I have, it may be I have not. What then, Sir?

While they seem in angry Dispute, enter Mopsophil.

Mop. Seignior Doctor tells me I have a Lover waits me, sure it must be the Farmer or the Apothecary. No matter which, so a Lover that welcomest Man alive. I am resolv'd to take the first good Offer, though but in revenge of Harlequin and Scaramouch, for putting Tricks upon me. —Ha,—Two of 'em!

Scar. My Mistress here!

[They both bow, and advance, putting each other by.

Mop. Hold, Gentlemen,—do not worry me. Which of you wou'd speak with me?

Both. I, I, I, Madam—

Mop. Both of you?

Both. No, Madam, I, I.

Mop. If both Lovers, you are both welcome; but let's have fair Play, and take your turns to speak.

Har. Ay, Seignior, 'tis most uncivil to interrupt me.

Scar. And disingenuous, Sir, to intrude on me.

[Putting one another by.

Mop. Let me then speak first.

Har. I'm dumb.

Scar. I acquiesce.

Mop. I was inform'd there was a Person here had Propositions of Marriage to make me.

Har. That's I, that's I— [Shoves Scar. away.

Scar. And I attend to that consequential Finis. [Shoves Har. away.

Har. I know not what you mean by your Finis, Seignior; but I am come to offer my self this Gentlewoman's Servant, her Lover, her Husband, her Dog in a Halter, or any thing.

Scar. Him I pronounce a Paltroon, and an ignominious Utensil, that dare lay claim to the renowned Lady of my Primum Mobile; that is, my best Affections. [In Rage.

Har. I fear not your hard Words, Sir, but dare aloud pronounce, if Donna Mopsophil like me, the Farmer, as well as I like her, 'tis a Match, and my Chariot's ready at the Gate to bear her off, d'ye see.

Mop. Ah, how that Chariot pleads. [Aside.

Scar. And I pronounce, that being intoxicated with the sweet Eyes of this refulgent Lady, I come to tender her my noblest Particulars, being already most advantageously set up with the circumstantial Implements of my Occupation. [Points to the Shop.

Mop. A City Apothecary, a most genteel Calling—Which shall I chuse? —Seignior Apothecary, I'll not expostulate the circumstantial Reasons that have occasion'd me this Honour.

Scar. Incomparable Lady, the Elegancy of your Repartees most excellently denotes the Profundity of your Capacity.

Har. What the Devil's all this? Good Mr. Conjurer, stand by—and don't fright the Gentlewoman with your elegant Profundities. [Puts him by.

Scar. How, a Conjurer! I will chastise thy vulgar Ignorance, that yclepes a Philosopher a Conjurer. [In Rage.

Har. Losaphers!—Prithee, if thou be'st a Man, speak like a Man—then.

Scar. Why, what do I speak like? what do I speak like?

Har. What do you speak like!—why you speak like a Wheel-Barrow.

Scar. How!

Har. And how.

[They come up close together at half Sword Parry; stare on each other for a while, then put up and bow to each other civilly.

Mop. That's well, Gentlemen, let's have all Peace, while I survey you both, and see which likes me best.

[She goes between 'em, and surveys 'em both, they making ridiculous bows on both sides, and Grimaces the while.

—Ha, now on my Conscience, my two foolish Lovers, Harlequin and Scaramouch; how are my Hopes defeated?—but, faith, I'll fit you both. [She views 'em both.

Scar. So she's considering still, I shall be the happy Dog. [Aside.

Har. She's taking aim, she cannot chuse but like me best. [Aside.

Scar. Well, Madam, how does my Person propagate? [Bowing and smiling.

Mop. Faith, Seignior, now I look better on you, I do not like your Phisnomy so well as your Intellects; you discovering some circumstantial Symptoms that ever denote a villanous Inconstancy.

Scar. Ah, are you pleas'd, Madam.

Mop. You are mistaken, Seignior. I am displeas'd at your Grey-Eyes, and black Eye-brows, and Beard; I never knew a Man with those Signs, true to his Mistress or his Friend. And I wou'd sooner wed that Scoundrel Scaramouch, that very civil Pimp, that mere pair of chymical Bellows that blow the Doctor's projecting Fires, that Deputy-urinal Shaker, that very Guzman of Salamanca. than a Fellow of your infallible Signum Mallis.

Har. Ha, ha, ha, you have your Answer, Seignior Friskin—and may shut up your Shop and be gone.—Ha, ha, ha.

Scar. Hum, sure the Jade knows me. [Aside.

Mop. And as for you, Seignior—

Har. Ha, Madam. [Bowing and smiling.

Mop. Those Lanthorn Jaws of yours, with that most villanous Sneer and Grin, and a certain fierce Air of your Eyes, looks altogether most fanatically—which with your notorious Whey Beard, are certain Signs of Knavery and Cowardice; therefore I'ad rather wed that Spider Harlequin, that Sceleton Buffoon, that Ape of Man, that Jack of Lent, that very Top, that's of no use, but when 'tis whip'd and lash'd, that piteous Property I'ad rather wed than thee.

Har. A very fair Declaration.

Mop. You understand me—and so adieu, sweet Glisterpipe, and Seignior Dirty-Boots, Ha, ha, ha. [Runs out.

[They stand looking simply on each other, without speaking a while.

Scar. That I shou'd not know that Rogue Harlequin. [Aside.

Har. That I shou'd take this Fool for a Physician. [Aside. —How long have you commenc'd Apothecary, Seignior?

Scar. Ever since you turn'd Farmer.—Are not you a damn'd Rogue to put these Tricks upon me, and most dishonourably break all Articles between us?

Har. And are not you a dam'd Son of a—something—to break Articles with me?

Scar. No more Words, Sir, no more Words, I find it must come to Actions, draw. [Draws.

Har. Draw!—so I can draw, Sir. [Draws.

[They make a ridiculous cowardly Fight. Enter the Doctor, which they seeing, come on with more Courage. He runs between, and with his Cane beats the Swords down.

Doct. Hold, hold, what mean you, Gentlemen?

Scar. Let me go, Sir, I am provok'd beyond measure, Sir.

Doct. You must excuse me, Seignior. [Parlies with Harlequin.

Scar. I dare not discover the Fool for his Master's sake, and it may spoil our Intrigue anon; besides, he'll then discover me, and I shall be discarded for bantering the Doctor. [Aside. —Man of Honour to be so basely affronted here.

[The Doctor comes to appease Scaramouch.

Har. Shou'd I discover this Rascal, he wou'd tell the old Gentleman I was the same that attempted his House to day in Woman's Clothes, and I should be kick'd and beaten most insatiably.

Scar. What, Seignior, for a Man of Parts to be impos'd upon, and whip'd through the Lungs here—like a Mountebank's Zany for sham Cures —Mr. Doctor, I must tell you 'tis not civil.

Doct. I am extremely sorry for it, Sir,—and you shall see how I will have this fellow handled for the Affront to a Person of your Gravity, and in my House.—Here, Pedro.

Enter Pedro.

—Take this Intruder, or bring some of your Fellows hither, and toss him in a Blanket.

[Exit Pedro.

[Har. going to creep away, Scar, holds him.

Har. Hark ye, bring me off, or I'll discover all your Intrigue. [Aside to him.

Scar. Let me alone.

Doct. I'll warrant you some Rogue that has some Plot on my Niece and Daughter.

Scar. No, no, Sir, he comes to impose the grossest Lye upon you, that ever was heard of.

Enter Pedro with others, with a Blanket. They put Harlequin into it, and toss him.

Har. Hold, hold, I'll confess all, rather than indure it.

Doct. Hold, what will you confess, Sir.

[He comes out, makes sick Faces.

Scar.—That he's the greatest Impostor in Nature. Wou'd you think it, Sir? he pretends to be no less than an Ambassador from the Emperor of the Moon, Sir.

Doct. Ha, Ambassador from the Emperor of the Moon! [Pulls off his Hat.

Scar. Ay, Sir, thereupon I laugh'd, thereupon he grew angry—I laugh'd at his Resentment, and thereupon we drew, and this was the high Quarrel, Sir.

Doct. Hum—Ambassador from the Moon. [Pauses.

Scar. I have brought you off, manage him as well as you can.

Har. Brought me off, yes, out of the Frying-pan into the Fire. Why, how the Devil shall I act an Ambassador? [Aside.

Doct. It must be so, for how shou'd either of these know I expected that Honour? [He addresses him with profound Civility to Har. Sir, if the Figure you make, approaching so near ours of this World, have made us commit any undecent Indignity to your high Character, you ought to pardon the Frailty of our mortal Education and Ignorance, having never before been bless'd with the Descension of any from your World.

Har. What the Devil shall I say now? [Aside. —I confess I am, as you may see by my Garb, Sir, a little Incognito, because the publick Message I bring is very private—which is, that the mighty Iredonozor, Emperor of the Moon, with his most worthy Brother, the Prince of Thunderland, intend to sup with you to Night.—Therefore be sure you get good Wine.—Though by the way let me tell you, 'tis for the sake of your fair Daughter.

Scar. I'll leave the Rogue to his own Management. I presume, by your whispering, Sir, you wou'd be private, and humbly begging pardon, take my leave. [Exit.

Har. You have it, Friend. Does your Niece and Daughter drink, Sir?

Doct. Drink, Sir?

Har. Ay, Sir, drink hard?

Doct. Do the Women of your World drink hard, Sir?

Har. According to their Quality, Sir, more or less; the greater the Quality, the more profuse the Quantity.

Doct. Why, that's just as 'tis here; but your Men of Quality, your Statesmen, Sir, I presume they are sober, learned, and wise.

Har. Faith, no, Sir; but they are, for the most part, what's as good, very proud and promising, Sir, most liberal of their Word to every fauning Suiter, to purchase the state of long Attendance, and cringing as they pass; but the Devil of a Performance, without you get the Knack of bribing in the right Place and Time; but yet they all defy it, Sir.

Doct. Just, just, as 'tis here.—But pray, Sir, how do these Great men live with their Wives?

Har. Most nobly, Sir, my Lord keeps his Coach, my Lady hers; my Lord his Bed, my Lady hers; and very rarely see one another, unless they chance to meet in a Visit, in the Park, the Mall, the Tour, or at the Basset-Table, where they civilly salute and part, he to his Mistress, she to play.

Doct. Good lack! just as 'tis here.

Har.—Where, if she chance to lose her Money, rather than give out, she borrows of the next amorous Coxcomb, who, from that Minute, hopes, and is sure to be paid again one way or other, the next kind Opportunity.

Doct.—Just as 'tis here.

Har. As for the young Fellows that have Money, they have no Mercy upon their own Persons, but wearing Nature off as fast as they can, Swear, and Whore and Drink, and borrow as long as any Rooking Citizen will lend till, having dearly purchased the heroick Title of a Bully or a Sharper, they live pity'd of their Friends, and despis'd by their Whores, and depart this Transitory World, diverse and sundry ways.

Doct. Just, just as 'tis here!

Har. As for the Citizen, Sir, the Courtier lies with his Wife; he in revenge, cheats him of his Estate, till rich enough to marry his Daughter to a Courtier, again gives him all—unless his Wife's over-gallantry breaks him; and thus the World runs round.

Doct. The very same 'tis here—Is there no preferment, Sir, for Men of Parts and Merit?

Har. Parts and Merit! what's that? a Livery, or the handsome tying a Cravat; for the great Men prefer none but their Foot-men and Valets.

Doct. By my Troth, just as 'tis here.—Sir, I find you are a Person of most profound Intelligence—under Favour, Sir, are you a Native of the Moon, or this World?

Har. The Devil's in him for hard Questions. —I am a Neapolitan, Sir?

Doct. Sir, I Honour you; good luck, my Countryman! How got you to the Region of the Moon, Sir?

Har. A plaguy inquisitive old Fool! —Why, Sir, —Pox on't, what shall I say? —I being—one day in a musing Melancholy, walking by the Sea-side— there arose, Sir, a great Mist, by the Sun's exhaling of the Vapours of the Earth, Sir.

Doct. Right, Sir.

Har. In this Fog, or Mist, Sir, I was exhal'd.

Doct. The Exhalations of the Sun draw you to the Moon, Sir?

Har. I am condemn'd to the Blanket again. —I say, Sir, I was exhal'd up, but in my way—being too heavy, was drop'd into the Sea.

Doct. How, Sir, into the Sea?

Har. The Sea, Sir, where the Emperor's Fisherman casting his Nets, drew me up, and took me for a strange and monstrous Fish, Sir,—and as such, presented me to his Mightiness,—who going to have me Spitchcock'd for his own eating—

Doct. How, Sir, eating?

Har. What did me I, Sir (Life being sweet) but fall on my Knees, and besought his Gloriousness not to eat me, for I was no Fish, but a Man; he ask'd me of what Country, I told him of Naples; whereupon the Emperor overjoy'd ask'd me if I knew that most reverend and learned Doctor Baliardo, and his fair Daughter. I told him I did: whereupon he made me his Bed-fellow, and the Confident to his Amour to Seigniora Elaria.

Doct. Bless me, Sir! how came the Emperor to know my Daughter?

Har. There he is again with his damn'd hard Questions. —Know her, Sir,—Why—you were walking abroad one day.

Doct. My Daughter never goes abroad, Sir, farther than our Garden.

Har. Ay, there it was indeed, Sir,—and as his Highness was taking a Survey of this lower World—through a long Perspective, Sir,—he saw you and your Daughter and Neice, and from that very moment fell most desperately in love.—But hark, the sound of Timbrels, Kettle-Drums and Trumpets.—The Emperor, Sir, is on his way, prepare for his Reception.

[A strange Noise is heard of Brass Kettles, and Pans, and Bells, and many tinkling things.

Doct. I'm in a Rapture—How shall I pay my Gratitude for this great Negotiation?—but as I may, I humbly offer, Sir. [Presents him with a rich Ring and a Purse of Gold.

Har. Sir, as an Honour done the Emperor, I take your Ring and Gold. I must go meet his Highness. [Takes leave.

Enter to him Scaramouch, as himself.

Scar. Oh, Sir! we are astonish'd with the dreadful sound of the sweetest Musick that ever Mortal heard, but know not whence it comes. Have you not heard it, Sir?

Doct. Heard it, yes, Fool,—'tis the Musick of the Spheres, the Emperor of the Moon World is descending.

Scar. How, Sir, no marvel then, that looking towards the South, I saw such splendid Glories in the Air.

Doct. Ha, saw'st thou ought descending in the Air?

Scar. Oh, yes, Sir, Wonders! haste to the old Gallery, whence, with the help of your Telescope, you may discover all.

Doct. I would not lose a moment for the lower Universe.

Enter Elaria, Bellemante, Mopsophil, dressed in rich Antick Habits.

Ela. Sir, we are dress'd as you commanded us, what is your farther Pleasure?

Doct. It well becomes the Honour you're design'd for, this Night to wed two Princes—come with me and know your happy Fate.

[Ex. Doctor and Scar.

Ela. Bless me! My Father, in all the rest of his Discourse shows so much Sense and Reason, I cannot think him mad, but feigns all this to try us.

Bell. Not mad! Marry, Heavens forbid, thou art always creating Fears to startle one; why, if he be not mad, his want of Sleep this eight and forty hours, the Noise of strange unheard of Instruments, with the fantastick Splendour of the unusual Sight, will so turn his Brain and dazzle him, that in Grace and Goodness, he may be mad, if he be not;— come, let's after him to the Gallery, for I long to see in what showing Equipage our princely Lovers will address to us.

[Exeunt.



SCENE III. The Last. The Gallery richly adorn'd with Scenes and Lights.

Enter Doctor, Elaria, Bellemante, and Mopsophil. Soft Musick is heard.

Bell. Ha—Heavens! what's here? what Palace is this?—No part of our House, I'm sure.

Ela. 'Tis rather the Apartment of some Monarch.

Doct. I'm all amazement too; but must not show my Ignorance. —Yes, Elaria, this is prepar'd to entertain two Princes.

Bell. Are you sure on't, Sir? are we not, think you, in that World above, I often heard you speak of? in the Moon, Sir?

Doct. How shall I resolve her—For ought I know, we are. [Aside.

Ela. Sure, Sir, 'tis some Inchantment.

Doct. Let not thy female Ignorance profane the highest Mysteries of natural Philosophy: To Fools it seems Inchantment—but I've a Sense can reach it—sit and expect the Event.—Hark, I am amaz'd, but must conceal my Wonder, that Joy of Fools—and appear wise in Gravity.

Bell. Whence comes this charming Sound, Sir?

Doct. From the Spheres—it is familiar to me.

[_The Scene in the Front draws off, and shews the Hill of_ Parnassus; _a noble large Walk of Trees leading to it, with eight or ten Negroes upon Pedestals, ranged on each side of the Walks. Next_ Keplair _and_ Galileus _descend on each side, opposite to each other, in Chariots, with Perspectives in their Hands, as viewing the Machine of the Zodiack. Soft Musick plays still.

Doct. Methought I saw the Figure of two Men descend from yonder Cloud on yonder Hill.

Ela. I thought so too, but they are disappear'd, and the wing'd Chariot's fled.

Enter Keplair and Galileus.

Bell. See, Sir, they approach.

[The Doctor rises and bows.

Kep. Most reverend Sir, we, from the upper World, thus low salute you—Keplair and Galileus we are call'd, sent as Interpreters to Great Iredonozor, the Emperor of the Moon, who is descending.

Doct. Most reverend Bards—profound Philosophers—thus low I bow to pay my humble Gratitude.

Kep. The Emperor, Sir, salutes you, and your fair Daughter.

Gal. And, Sir, the Prince of Thunderland salutes you, and your fair Neice.

Doct. Thus low I fall to thank their Royal Goodness.

[Kneels. They take him up.

Bell. Came you, most reverend Bards, from the Moon World?

Kep. Most lovely Maid, we did.

Doct. May I presume to ask the manner how?

Kep. By Cloud, Sir, through the Regions of the Air, down to the fam'd Parnassus; thence by Water, along the River Helicon, the rest by Post upon two wing'd Eagles.

Doct. Sir, are there store of our World inhabiting the Moon?

Kep. Oh, of all Nations, Sir, that lie beneath it in the Emperor's Train! Sir, you will behold abundance; look up and see the Orbal World descending; observe the Zodiack, Sir, with her twelve Signs.

[Next the Zodiack descends, a Symphony playing all the while; when it is landed, it delivers the twelve Signs: Then the Song, the Persons of the Zodiack being the Singers. After which, the Negroes dance and mingle in the Chorus.

A Song for the Zodiack.

Let murmuring Lovers no longer repine, But their Hearts and their Voices advance; Let the Nymphs and the Swains in the kind Chorus join, And the Satyrs and Fauns in a Dance. Let Nature put on her Beauty of May, And the Fields and the Meadows adorn; Let the Woods and the Mountains resound with the Joy, And the Echoes their Triumph return.

Chorus.

_For since Love wore his Darts, And Virgins grew Coy; Since these wounded Hearts, And those cou'd destroy, There ne'er was more Cause for your Triumphs and Joy.

Hark, hark, the Musick of the Spheres, Some Wonder approaching declares; Such, such, as has not bless'd your Eyes and Ears This thousand, thousand, thousand Years. See, see what the Force of Love can make, Who rules in Heaven, in Earth and Sea; Behold how he commands the Zodiack, While the fixt Signs unhinging all obey. Not one of which, but represents The Attributes of Love, Who governs all the Elements In Harmony above_.

Chorus.

_For since Love wore his Darts And Virgins grew coy; Since these wounded Hearts, And those cou'd destroy, There ne'er was more Cause for your Triumphs and Joy.

The wanton Aries first descends, To show the Vigor and the Play, Beginning Love, beginning Love attends, When the young Passion is all-over Joy, He bleats his soft Pain to the fair curled Throng, And he leaps, and he bounds, and loves all the day long. At once Love's Courage and his Slavery In_ Taurus _is expressed, Though o'er the Plains the Conqueror be, The generous Beast Does to the Yoke submit his noble Breast; While_ Gemini _smiling and twining of Arms, Shews Love's soft Indearments and Charms; And_ Cancer's _slow Motion the degrees do express, Respectful Love arrives to Happiness_. Leo _his strength and Majesty_, Virgo _her blushing Modesty, And_ Libra _all his Equity. His Subtilty does_ Scorpio _show, And_ Sagittarius _all his loose desire, By_ Capricorn _his forward Humour know, And_ Aqua, _Lovers Tears that raise his Fire, While_ Pisces, _which intwin'd do move, Shew the soft Play, and wanton Arts of Love_.

Chorus.

For since Love wore his Darts, And Virgins grew coy; Since these wounded Hearts, And those you'd destroy, There ne'er was more Cause for Triumphs and Joy.

—See how she turns, and sends her Signs to Earth.—Behold the Ram, Aries—see Taurus next descends; then Gemini—see how the Boys embrace.—Next Cancer, then Leo, then the Virgin; next to her Libra—Scorpio, Sagittary, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces. This eight thousand Years no Emperor has descended, but Incognito; but when he does, to make his Journey more magnificent, the Zodiack, Sir, attends him.

Doct. 'Tis all amazing, Sir.

Kep. Now, Sir, behold the Globick World descends two thousand Leagues below its wonted Station, to shew Obedience to its proper Monarch.

[After which, the Globe of the Moon appears, first like a new Moon, as it moves forward it increases till it comes to the Full. When it is descended, it opens and shews the Emperor and the Prince. They come forth with all their Train, the Flutes playing a Symphony before them, which prepares the Song. Which ended the Dancers mingle as before.

A SONG.

_All Joy to Mortals, Joy and Mirth, Eternal_ IO'S _sing; The Gods of Love descend to Earth, Their Darts have lost the Sting. The Youth shall now complain no more Of_ Sylvia's _needless Scorn, But she shall love, if he adore, And melt when he shall burn.

The Nymph no longer shall be shy, But leave the jilting Road; And Daphne now no more shall fly The wounded panting God; But all shall be serene and fair, No sad Complaints of Love Shall fill the gentle whispering Air, No echoing Sighs the Grove.

Beneath the Shades young_ Strephon _lies, Of all his Wish possess'd; Gazing on_ Sylvia's _charming Eyes, Whose Soul is there confessed. All soft and sweet the Maid appears, With Looks that know no Art, And though she yields with trembling Fears, She yields with all her Heart_.

—See, Sir, the Cloud of Foreigners appears, French, English, Spaniards, Danes, Turks, Russians, Indians, and the nearer Climes of Christendom; and lastly, Sir, behold the mighty Emperor.—

[A Chariot appears, made like a Half Moon, in which is Cinthio for the Emperor, richly dressed, and Charmante for the Prince, rich, with a good many Heroes attending. Cinthio's Train born by four Cupids. The Song continues while they descend and land. They address themselves to Elaria and Bellemante.—Doctor falls on his Face, the rest bow very low as they pass. They make signs to Keplair.

Kep. The Emperor wou'd have you rise, Sir, he will expect no Ceremony from the Father of his Mistress. [Takes him up.

Doct. I cannot, Sir, behold his Mightiness—the Splendor of his Majesty confounds me.

Kep. You must be moderate, Sir, it is expected.

[The two Lovers make all the Signs of Love in dumb show to the Ladies, while the soft Musick plays again from the end of the Song.

Doct. Shall I not have the Joy to hear their heavenly Voices, Sir?

Kep. They never speak to any Subject, Sir, when they appear in Royalty, but by Interpreters, and that by way of Stentraphon, in manner of the Delphick Oracles.

Doct. Any way, so I may hear the Sense of what they wou'd say.

Kep. No doubt you will—But see the Emperor commands by Signs his Foreigners to dance.

[Soft Musick changes.

[A very Antick Dance. The Dance ended, the Front Scene draws off, and shows a Temple, with an Altar, one speaking through a Stentraphon from behind it. Soft Musick plays the while.

Kep. Most Learned Sir, the Emperor now is going to declare himself, according to his Custom, to his Subjects. Listen.—

Sten. Most Reverend Sir, whose Virtue did incite us, Whose Daughter's Charms did more invite us; We come to grace her with that Honour, That never Mortal yet had done her; Once only, Jove was known in Story, To visit Semele in Glory. But fatal 'twas, he so enjoy'd her, Her own ambitious Flame destroy'd her. His Charms too fierce for Flesh and Blood, She dy'd embracing of her God, We gentler marks of Passion give, The Maid we love, shall love and live; Whom visibly we thus will grace, Above the rest of human Race, Say, is't your Will that we shou'd wed her, And nightly in Disguises bed her?

Doct. The Glory is too great for Mortal Wife. [Kneels with Transport.

Sten. What then remains, but that we consummate This happy Marriage in our splendid State?

Doct. Thus low I kneel, in thanks for this great Blessing.

[Cinthio takes Elaria by the Hand; Charmante, Bellemante; two of the Singers in white being Priests, they lead 'em to the Altar, the whole Company dividing on either side. Where, while a Hymeneal Song is sung, the Priest joins their Hands: The Song ended, and they marry'd, they come forth; but before they come forward, two Chariots descend one on one side above, and the other on the other side; in which is Harlequin dress'd like a Mock Hero, with others; and Scaramouch in the other, dress'd so in Helmets.

Scar. Stay, mighty Emperor, and vouchsafe to be the Umpire of our Difference. [Cinthio signs to Keplair.

Kep. What are you?

Scar. Two neighbouring Princes to your vast Dominion.

Har. Knights of the Sun, our honourable Titles, And fight for that fair Mortal, Mopsophil.

Mop. Bless us!—my two precious Lovers, I'll warrant; well, I had better take up with one of them, than lie alone to Night.

Scar. Long as two Rivals we have lov'd and hop'd, Both equally endeavour'd, and both fail'd. At last by joint Consent, we both agreed To try our Titles by the Dint of Lance, And chose your Mightiness for Arbitrator.

Kep. The Emperor gives Consent.

[They both all arm'd—with gilded Lances and Shields of Black, with golden Suns painted. The Musick plays a fighting Tune. They fight at Barriers, to the Tune.—Harlequin is often foil'd, but advances still; at last Scaramouch throws him, and is Conqueror; all give Judgment for him.

Kep. The Emperor pronounces you are Victor.— [To Scar.

Doct. Receive your Mistress, Sir, as the Reward of your undoubted Valour— [Presents Mopsophil.

Scar. Your humble Servant, Sir, and Scaramouch returns you humble Thanks. [Puts off his Helmet.

Doct. Ha,—Scaramouch! [Bawls out, and falls in a Chair. They all go to him. My Heart misgives me—Oh, I am undone and cheated every way. [Bawling out.

Kep. Be patient, Sir, and call up all your Virtue, You're only cur'd, Sir, of a Disease That long has reign'd over your nobler Faculties. Sir, I am your Physician, Friend and Counsellor; It was not in the Power of Herbs or Minerals, Of Reason, common Sense, and right Religion, To draw you from an Error that unmann'd you.

Doct. I will be patient, Gentlemen, and hear you. —Are not you Ferdinand?

Kep. I am,—and these are Gentlemen of Quality, That long have lov'd your Daughter and your Niece; Don Cinthio this, and this is Don Charmante, The Vice-Roy's Nephews both. Who found as Men—'twas impossible to enjoy 'em, And therefore try'd this Stratagem.

Cin. Sir, I beseech you, mitigate your Grief, Although indeed we are but mortal Men, Yet we shall love you, serve you, and obey you.

Doct. Are not you then the Emperor of the Moon? And you the Prince of Thunderland?

Cin. There's no such Person, Sir. These Stories are the Fantoms of mad Brains, To puzzle Fools withal—the Wise laugh at 'em— Come, Sir, you shall no longer be impos'd upon.

Doct. No Emperor of the Moon, and no Moon World!

Char. Ridiculous Inventions. If we 'ad not lov'd you you'ad been still impos'd on; You had brought a Scandal on your learned Name, And all succeeding Ages had despis'd it.

[Doct. leaps up.

Doct. Burn all my Books and let my study blaze, Burn all to Ashes, and be sure the Wind Scatter the vile contagious monstrous Lyes. —Most Noble Youths—you've honour'd me with your Alliance, and you, and all your Friends, Assistances in this glorious Miracle, I invite to Night to revel with me.—Come all and see my happy Recantation of all the Follies, Fables have inspir'd till now. Be pleasant to repeat your Story, to tell me by what kind degrees you cozen'd me. I see there's nothing in Philosophy— [Gravely to himself. Of all that writ, he was the wisest Bard, who spoke this mighty Truth—

"He that knew all that ever Learning writ, Knew only this—that he knew nothing yet."

[Exeunt.



EPILOGUE,

To be spoken by Mrs. Cooke.

_With our old Plays, as with dull Wife it fares, To whom you have been marry'd tedious Years. You cry She's wondrous good, it is confessed, But still 'tis_ Chapon Boueille _at the best; That constant Dish can never make a Feast: Yet the pall'd Pleasure you must still pursue, You give so small Incouragement for new; And who would drudge for such a wretched Age, Who want the Bravery to support one Stage? The wiser Wits have now new Measures set, And taken up new Trades that they may hate. No more your nice fantastick Pleasures serve, Your Pimps you pay, but let your Poets starve, They long in vain for better Usage hop'd, Till quite undone and tir'd, they dropt and dropt; Not one is left will write for thin third Day, Like desperate Pickeroons, no Prize no Pay; And when they have done their best, the Recompence Is, Damn the Sot, his Play wants common Sense, Ill-natured Wits, who can so ill requite The drudging Slaves, who for your Pleasure write.

Look back on flourishing Rome, ye proud Ingrates, And see how she her thriving Poets treats: Wisely she priz'd 'em at the noblest Rate, As necessary Ministers of State, And Contributions rais'd to make 'em great. They from the publick Bank she did maintain, And freed from want, they only writ for Fame; And were as useful in a City held, As formidable Armies in the Field. They but a Conquest over Men pursued, While these by gentle force the Soul subdu'd. Not Rome in all her happiest Pomp cou'd show A greater Caesar than we boast of now; Augustus reigns, but Poets still are low.

May Caesar live, and while his mighty Hand Is scattering Plenty over all the Land; With God-like Bounty recompensing all, Some fruitful drops may on the Muses fall; Since honest Pens do his just cause afford Equal Advantage with the useful Sword_.



NOTES ON THE TEXT.



THE TOWN FOP.

p. 7 Dramatis Personae. I have added 'Page to Bellmour; Page to Lord Plotwell; Sir Timothy's Page; Guests; Fiddlers; Ladies.'

p. 12, l. 36 honoured. 1724 'honourable'.

p. 13, l. 2 answered the Civility. 1724 'answered her the Civility'.

p. 13, l. 23 whats. 1724 'what'.

p. 13, l. 26 any thing in Life. 1724 'any thing in this Life'.

p. 14, l. 3 God forbid it; 1724 omits 'it'.

p. 15, l. 11 you speak well. 1724 omits 'well'.

p. 15, l. 20 Mrs. Celinda Dresswell. Following 4to 1677 and 1724 I have retained the name Dresswell although it should obviously be Friendlove. In the first draft Friendlove was called Dresswell, and in altering the nomenclature of the character Mrs. Behn forgot to make the change here. The same slip occurs in this same scene (p. 20, l. 23) when Friendlove is alluded to as Dresswell.

p. 16, l. 2 help. 1724 'help'd'.

p. 16, l. 30 me to. 1724 omits 'to'.

p. 17, l. 9 and Allurements. 1724 omits 'and'.

p. 19, l. 29 beholding. 1724 'beholden'.

p. 19, l. 31 belong'd. 1724 'belongs'.

p. 20, l. 6 Murder. 4to 1677 has here the marginal stage direction '[A Letter', to remind the prompter to have that property ready for the immediate entry of Friendlove.

p. 22, l. 4 Exit Sir Tim. 4to 1677 has 'Ex.' after 'Celinda.' 1724 'Exit' after 'Southampton House.'

p. 22, l. 6 Exeunt. I have supplied this stage direction. 4to 1677 has 'The End of the First Act.'

p. 22, l. 8 A Palace. I have left this quaint locale untouched although the scene is merely an antechamber in Friendlove's house, and can have been no more than a drop cloth.

p. 22, l. 27 Scene II. This Scene is not numbered in the previous editions but considered as Scene I with the former.

p. 24, l. 10 To-morrow. 1724 as prose. I follow metrical arrangement of 4to.

p. 26, l. 12 impose. 4to 1677 'imposes'.

P. 27, l. 15 Scene III. Sir Timothy's House. I have supplied the locale. In all former editions Scenes I and II being counted as one this is numbered Scene II.

p. 27, l. 16 and Boy. I have added the entrance of the Boy.

p. 28, l. 12 that I am. 4to 1677 omits 'that'.

p. 28, l. 28 —and where—and where. 1724 reads '—and where—' once.

p. 29, l. 25 Fortunes. 1724 'Fortune'.

p. 30, l. 32 Exeunt. 4to 1677 'Ex.' 1724 'Exit.'

p. 30, l. 33 Scene IV. Lord Plotwell's House. I have added the locale. The former editions, regarding Scenes I and II of this act as one, read 'Scene III.'

p. 34, l. 21 nor one. 1677 'nor none'.

p. 37, l. 14 Scene V. 'Scene IV' in former editions.

p. 39, l. 34 Exeunt. Not in former editions. 4to 1677 has 'The End of the Second Act.'

p. 40, l. 2 A Room in Lord Plotwell's House. All former editions mark the locale as 'The Street.' But this is obviously wrong from the sitting, dancing and whole business of the scene.

p. 41, l. 6 Griefs. 1724 'Grief.'

p. 41, l. 9 something of disorder. 4to 1677 'something in disorder'.

p. 41, l. 24 bear. 4to 1677 'bare'.

p. 42, l. 19 Life left. 1724 omits 'left'.

p. 43, l. 4 plunged in Blood. 1724 'plung'd in, in Blood.'

p. 43, l. 5 A Jigg. Not in 1724.

p. 43, l. 19 with all your Faults. 4to 1677 omits 'your'.

p. 45, l. 4 of it. 4to 1677 'on't'.

p. 47, l. 7 Exeunt. All former editions 'Exit.'

p. 47, l. 8 Scene II. No former editions number this scene, but read 'Enter Diana, Scene a Bedchamber.'

p. 47, l. 33 unto. 4to 1677 'to'.

p. 49, l. 25 Love. 1724 'Life'.

p. 50, l. 23 Exit. Not marked in former editions.

p. 50, l. 24 Scene III. A Street. No former editions number this scene.

p. 51, l. 1 Which. 4to 1677 'Who'.

p. 54, l. 34 Exeunt. Not in 1724. 4to 1677 adds 'The End of the Third Act.'

p. 55, l. 2 Celinda's Chamber. The locale is unmarked in all former editions,

p. 57, l. 15 the longed for. 4to 1677 misprints 'she long'd for'.

p. 59, l. 8 Blessings. 1724 'Blessing'.

p. 59, l. 10 Who ere. 1724 'When e'er'.

p. 61, l. 11 and who. 1724 'and she who'.

p. 62, l. 6 _Scene II. The former editions have not numbered this scene.

p. 62, l. 11 Jenny and Doll. I have supplied the wenches' names as given in the Dramatis Personae.

p. 63, l. 1 Garnitures. 1724 'Garments'.

p. 64, l. 1 Scene III. I have numbered the scene. Former editions all read 'Scene a Chamber, a Table with Box and Dice.'

p. 72, l. 20 Ex. severally. 4to 1677 adds 'The End of the Fourth Act.'

p. 72, l. 22 Scene I. I have numbered this scene.

p. 76, l. 14 Scene II. Lord Plotwell's House. There is no scene division in 4to 1677. I have numbered this scene and added the locale which is evident from the dialogue.

p. 80, l. 5 Exit. 4to 1677 omits this stage direction.

p. 82, l. 10 Scene III. I have numbered this scene.

p. 82, l. 27 Look on this face. I have metrically arranged this. It is obviously verse. 4to 1677 and 1724 print as prose.

p. 94, l. 24 written by Mr. E.R. i.e. 'Mr. Edward Ravenscroft.' Omitted in 1724.



THE FALSE COUNT.

p. 101 Dramatis Personae. I have added to the list 'Page to Carlos, A little Page to the False Count; Wife to Petro.'

p. 106, l. 26 halving. Omitted by 1724,

p. 109, l. 7 hither. Omitted by 1724.

p. 110, l. 36 easier. 4to 1697 and 1724 'easilier'.

p. 111, l. 11 Son. 4tos 'Soul'.

p. 115, l. 28 Huswise. read 'Huswife'.

p. 116, l. 5 Just-au-corps. 4to 1697 'Justicore'.

p. 120, l. 29 He goes out. 1724 'Exeunt severally.'

p. 120, l. 30 Scene II_. I have numbered this scene.

p. 121, l. 34 Page holding his lanthorn to his face. Omitted in 1724.

p. 125, l. 20 Going in. 4tos 1682 and 1697 read 'Goes in.' But Carlos, obviously, does not leave the stage at this point.

p. 128, l. 24 Scene III. I have numbered this scene.

p. 131, l. 11 Don Carlos' house. I have added the locale.

p. 131, l. 26 dear. 1724 'dearer'.

p. 135, l. 16 Francisco's house. I have added the locale.

p. 135, l. 26 should. 1724 'shall'.

p. 139, l. 15 not yet. 1724 repeats 'not yet'.

p. 140, l. 2 froward. 1724 'forward',

p. 143, l. 21 They dance. 4tos add 'with Don', which seems unsuitable as the company are seated.

p. 147, l. 22 Exit Cap. I have added this necessary direction, not in any previous edition, although all mark his entry again a little later.

p. 152, l. 15 the body of Francisco. 4tos 1682 and 1697. 1724 omits 'the body of'.

p. 156, l. 29 glout. 1724 'glut'.

p. 158, l. 6 Mahometan. 1724 repeats 'Mahometan'.

p. 158, l. 33 And wou'd not break. These two lines, which are obviously metrical, all former editions print as prose.

p. 163, l. 19 and Mutes attending. I have added these words as Carlos addresses the mutes a little later in the scene.

p. 163, l. 21 your. 1724 'thy'.

p. 166, l. 13 Sir, I'll warrant. 1724 omits 'Sir'.

p. 167, l. 15 that's the greatest. 1724 omits 'that's'.

p. 168, l. 30 Aside. 1724 omits.



THE LUCKY CHANCE.

p. 177 The Lucky Chance. On the title of the 4to 1687, we have 'This may be Printed, April 23, 1686. R.P.'

p. 183, l. 1 To The Right Honourable. This Dedication and the Preface (p. 185) are only found in the 4to 1687. p. 190 Dramatis Personae. have added to the list 'Gingle, a Music Master; A Post-man; Susan, Servant to Sir Feeble; Phillis, Leticia's Woman.'

p. 191, l. 20 Enter Mr. Gingle. I have inserted Gingle's name. All previous editions read 'Enter several with Musick.'

p. 194, l. 5 Dudgeon. 4to 1687 'Dugion'.

p. 199, l. 13 I have had ... Guyneys. These words have by a curiously gross error been dropped out in all editions save the 4to 1687.

p. 202, l. 30 all but for. 1724 omits 'but'.

p. 203, l. 10 so, I'll go. 1724 'so, and I'll go'.

p. 203, l. 27 Then then. All previous editions read 'Then thou' which makes no sense. The emendation, if not what Mrs. Behn wrote, is at least grammatical.

p. 204, l. 34 this St. Martin's Trumpery. 1724 'these'.

p. 205, l. 4 my Girl. 1724 omits 'my'.

p. 206, l. 28 of the World. 1724 'of the whole World'.

p. 207, l. 30 beholding. 1724 'beholden'.

p. 207, l. 36 Aside. 1724 omits.

p. 209, l. 2 look, look how. 1724 'look, how'.

p. 209, l. 12 Exeunt. I have supplied this, which does not occur in previous editions. 4to 1687 has 'The End of the First Act.' 1724 gives nothing.

p. 210, l. 3 Livings. 1724 'Living'.

p. 216, l. 13 Enter Bellmour. I have placed this entrance here as by his first speech Bellmour obviously overhears Leticia's words, 'Blest be this kind Retreat'. 1724 places the entrance after 'Sighs and Tears.' 4to 1687 gives it in a bracket by Leticia's three lines.

p. 218, l. 9 Let. But how. I have arranged these lines metrically. 4to 1687 and 1724 print as prose.

p. 221, l. 1 Seraglio. 4to 1687 'Seraglia'.

p. 222, l. 31 Quonundrum. 4to 1687 'Qunnumdrum'.

p. 224, l. 17 Exit. I have supplied this. 1724 gives no direction. 4to 1687 has 'The End of the Second Act.'

p. 225, ll. 13, 25 Aside. Not in 4to 1687.

p. 226, l. 8 swooned. 4to 1687 'swoonded'.

p. 227, l. 9 Aside. Not in 4to 1687.

p. 227, l. 29 Scene II. I have numbered this scene.

p. 227, l. 29 in an undressing. 1724 omits 'in an'.

p. 228, l. 7 Aside. Omitted in 4to 1687.

p. 228, l. 21 Within. I have supplied this stage direction here and in Bellmour's following speech.

p. 229, l. 2 to him. Not in 1724.

p. 229, l. 4 before to morrow. 1724 reads 'before we go to him to-morrow.'

p. 229, l. 27 his Safety. 1724 omits 'his'.

p. 231, l. 3 I'm sorry. I have arranged this metrically. Former editions as prose.

p. 23l, l. 16 Woman. 4to 1687 'Women'. But Pert is alone.

p. 231, l. 22 Want. 1724 misprints 'Wont'.

p. 234, l. 4 Exit. I have supplied this stage direction.

p. 234, l. 5 Scene V. I have numbered this scene.

p. 234, l. 27 Dick his Boy. Former editions 'and Boy.' But Dick's name is given in the Dramatis Personae and later in this same scene.

p. 235, l. 11 you know. Omitted by 1724.

p. 237, l. 21 Aside. Former editions wrongly mark this whole speech 'aside'. The last sentence is clearly spoken aloud to Sir Cautious.

p. 238, l. 30 Ad, and. 1724 'and and'.

p. 238, l. 32 Exit Dick. I have added this Exit, unmarked in former editions. Dick obviously does not remain on the stage as his entrance is marked later.

p. 239, l. 14 Aside, turns. 1724 omits 'turns'.

p. 240, l. 29 Scene VI. I have numbered this scene.

p. 241, l. 28 Aside. Not in 4to 1687. But marked in 1724.

p. 243, l. 18 Exeunt. This stage direction is in no previous edition.

p. 244, ll. 28-36 I am sorry ... Jewel, Sir. Previous editions as prose.

p. 245, l. 5 Where had ... Previous editions print as prose.

p. 246, l. 1 rivell'd. 4to 1687. All later editions 'shrivel'd', which is by no means as good.

p. 246, l. 2 Ladles. 1724 misprints 'Ladies',

p. 248, l. 31 amended. 1724 'mended'.

p. 249, l. 2 Dinner in. 1724 'Dinner at'.

p. 255, l. 27 wou'd but stand. 1724 omits 'but'.

p. 259, l. 13 Exit. I have added this stage direction. 4to 1687 reads 'The End of the Fourth Act.'

p. 260, l. 17 Scene II. I have numbered this scene,

p. 263, l. 14 Scene III. 4to and 1724 'Scene II.'

p. 264, l. 21 attend. 1724 'intend.'

p. 265, l. 31 Soft Musick ceases. I put this stage direction here, following 4to 1687. 1724 inserts it after the Song, which is not so well.

p. 266, l. 20 Scene IV. I have numbered this scene.

p. 267, l. 1 Yet you may. I have arranged the whole speech metrically. 1687 prints to 'April Flow'rs' as prose. 1724 prints to 'gather' as prose.

p. 267, l. 19 Sir. Omitted in 1724.

p. 268, l. 11 But leave. I have arranged metrically. Previous editions prose.

p. 269, l. 29 With all my Soul. 4to 1687 gives an '[Aside' to Gayman's speech. This is an obvious error.

p. 270, l. 12 Scene V. I have numbered this and the two following scenes.

p. 271, l. 20 he have not. 1724 'he has not'.

p. 27l, l. 31 Oh! You. I have arranged metrically. Previous editions prose.

p. 274, l. 3 Life's. 4to 1687 'Lives'. P. 275, l. 24 Enter Leticia, Bellmour, and Phillis. I have added this necessary direction which is in no former edition.

p. 278, l. 20 An After Math. 4to 1687 reads 'An After Mach'. 1724 'An after Match'. As neither of these forms are found, the 4to seems an obvious misprint for 'After Math'.

p. 278, l. 25 whiffling. 1724 'whistling'.



THE FORC'D MARRIAGE.

p. 286, l. 15 Enter an Actress. Omitted in 4to 1671.

p. 287 Dramatis Personae. I have added to the list 'Page to Pisaro; Clergy; Officers;' and have named Lysette from Act iii, v. 4to 1671 spells Orgulius, Orguilious; Falatius, Falatio; Cleontius, Cleontious in the Dramatis Personae, but in the text I have spelled these names throughout following 1724. It may here be noted that the 1671 quarto swarms with errors and typographical mistakes. It is vilely printed and seemingly issued from the press almost without revision.

p. 288, l. 2 The Palace. I have added the locale.

p. 289, l. 5 Bravery. 4to 1671. 4to 1690 and 1724 'Virtue'.

p. 289, l. 11 Alcippus. 4to 1671 prints 'Alcip.' as a speech-prefix. An obvious blunder.

p. 289, l. 18 Gift. 4to 1671 misreads 'Guilt'.

p. 290, l. 11 added little. 1724 'added a little'.

p. 290, l. 19 hated. 4to 1690 and 1724 'hate'.

p. 292, l. 9 who. 4to 1671 'whom'.

p. 295, l. 5 pretends. 4to 1671 'pretend'.

p. 295, l. 31 thee most fatal proofs. 1724 'the most fatal proof'.

p. 296, l. 18 There was so. Following quartos I have printed these lines (which 1724 gives as prose) metrically, although I confess the result is not satisfactory.

p. 297, l. 1 Galatea's Apartments. I have added this locale.

p. 298, l. 9 first. Not in 4to 1671.

p. 298, l. 29 Sighing. Not in 4to 1671.

p. 299, l. 30 Madam, that grief. This speech, which all previous editions give to Erminia, I have assigned to Aminta. I am, however, not entirely satisfied that a speech of Galatea's has not dropped out here (the first quarto is notoriously careless), and in this case the speech may well be Erminia's.

p. 300, l. 14 sworn. 4to 1690 and 1724, which I retain as better than 1671 'vow'd'.

p. 300, l. 24 won. 4to 1690 and 1724, which I have preferred to 1671 'mov'd'.

p. 301, l. 1 A room in the house. I have added this locale.

p. 303, l. 29 and Isil. I have added Isillia's exit.

p. 303, l. 30 Philanders Apartments. I have added the locale.

p. 305, l. 14 The Representation of the Wedding. This line is not in 1724.

p. 305, l. 15 must be let down ... must play. 1724 'is let down ... plays.'

p. 305, l. 29 The Palace. I have added this locale.

p. 306, l. 22 th'Almighty. 4to 1671 'i'th' Almighty'.

p. 307, l. 31 needs. 4to 1671 'need'. 1690 'needs't'.

p. 309, l. 1 The Court Gallery. I have added this locale.

p. 309, l. 8 That sad tone. I have followed the quartos in their metrical arrangement of this speech. 1724 gives it as prose. The same rule has been observed l.21, 'Am. Nay thou hast ...'

p. 310, l. 31 Not so well. In this speech and also p. 311, l. 1 I have followed the metrical arrangement of the 4tos. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 312, l. 9 Ex. 4to 1671 'goes out.'

p. 312, l. 13 Exeunt. 4to 1671 'go out.'

p. 312, l, 14 'Tis the most. I have followed the two quartos in their arrangement of these lines, which, none the less, seems far from satisfactory. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 313, l. 10 Erminia. 4to 1671 omits.

p. 313, l. 28 She weeps. Not in 4to 1671, but in 4to 1690 and in 1724.

p. 313, l. 35 Prince his word. 4to 1690 and 1724 'Prince's word'.

p. 315, l. 10 Thou would'st allow. This is the reading of 4to 1690 and of 1724. 4to 1671 reads 'I should allow what I deny thee here.'

p. 316, l. 31 Philander's Bed-chamber. I have added the locale.

p. 317, l. 25 marry other. 1724 'marry any other'.

p. 320, l. 5 an ignorant. This is the reading of the 4tos. I take 'ignorant' as the obsolete substantive. 1724 omits 'an'.

p. 320, l. 9 Enter Lysette. 1724 has 'Enter a Maid', but gives speech prefix 'Lyc.', spelling Lysette, Lycette.

p. 320, l. 12 I cry your Lordship's. I have followed the 4tos in the metrical arrangement of this speech. 1724 prints as prose.

p. 320, l. 15 She goes in. 1724 'She goes out.'

p. 320, l. 21 I fell asleep. So 4tos. 1724 as prose.

p. 321, l. 28 Shepherdess. 4tos and 1724 punctuate 'Shepherdess,'. It has been suggested that the passage be punctuated with a full stop at 'call.' and continue 'Ah, cruel' with the punctuation of former editions retained.

p. 323, l. 8 he has. 4to 1671 'it has'.

p. 323, l. 14 The Court Gallery. I have supplied this locale.

p. 326, l. 21 The apartments of Alcippus. I have supplied this locale.

p. 327, l. 26 And I so strangely. 4to 1671 omits 'I'.

p. 330, l. 23 The Palace. I have supplied this locale. 1724 misprints Scene IV.

p. 330, l. 24 as passing by. Omitted by 1724.

p. 331, l. 23 Railly. 1724 prints this speech as prose.

p. 332, l. 29 beholding. 1724 'beholden'.

p. 332, l. 32 Fal. That's too much. Following the 4tos I have arranged all the speeches of Falatius, which 1724 gives as prose, metrically. The result is, it must be confessed, not entirely satisfactory in places.

p. 334, l. 25 Farewell. 4tos and 1724 all print 'For well'.

p. 334, l. 34 Sees Pisaro. 1724 omitting 'sees' makes a poor alteration in the conduct of this business.

p. 335, l. 20 Exit Pis. Former editions simply 'Exit.' This confuses the scene.

p. 335, l. 21 Re-enter Falatius. The 4tos omit this stage direction.

p. 337, l. 7 Galatea's Apartments. I have supplied the locale.

p, 337, l. 12 you were. 4to 1690 and 1724 'you are'.

p. 338, l. 25 must credit you. 4to 1671 'faith, I credit you'.

p. 339, l. 4 Erminia, sure you'll. 4to 1690 and 1724 'Erminia sure will'.

p. 339, l. 14 the fault. 4to 1690 and 1724 'my faults'.

p. 340, l. 5 He rises. I have inserted 'He' to make the direction quite clear.

p. 342, l. 5 The Palace. I have added the locale.

p. 343, l. 25 loving me. 4to 1671 prints an unsatisfactory text:

'none for loving me, for I'm much unlike Lucinda whom you ey'd.'

p. 344, l. 28 The Apartments of Alcippus. I have added this locale.

p. 344, l. 32 fear'd. 4to 1671 'heard'.

p. 347, l. 17 Entering. I have added this stage direction.

p, 347, l. 30 a Chamber. I have inserted the locale.

p. 347, l. 30 in a dishabit. All editions save 4to 1671 read 'in an undress'.

p. 349, l. 5 appetites. 1724 'appetite'.

p. 349, l. 12 Within. I have supplied this stage direction.

p. 349, l. 20 took. 1724 'taken'.

p. 351, l. 34 To Alcip. This and the following stage direction 'To the Prince' are not in 4to 1671.

p. 352, l. 16 vile. 4to 1671 omits.

p. 352, l. 25 or smothers her with a pillow. This is only found in 4to 1671.

p. 353, l. 21 Knew. 4to 1671 'know'.

p. 354, l. 6 has. 4to 1671 'had'.

p. 354, l. 16 Murder. 4to 1690 and 1724 'a Murderer'.

p. 354, l. 29 The Palace. I have supplied the locale.

p. 356, l. 30 merits not. 1724 'merits all'. A striking misprint.

p. 357, l. l2 Gonzal. 4to 1671 'Gen'rall'.

p. 357, l. 16 You once. 4to 1671 wrongly gives this to the King.

p. 357, l. 19 And should. 4to 1671 omits this whole line.

p. 357, l. 29 Fal. Wert. I have followed the arrangement of 4to 1671 throughout in this scene, which 1724 prints as prose.

p. 358, l. 7 Tiffany. 4to 1690 and 1724 'Taffety.'

p. 358, l. 22 Philander's Apartments. I have supplied this locale.

p. 359, l. 29 Within. I have added this stage direction.

p. 360, l. 27—Gods—. I follow 4tos. 1724 prints these two lines as prose.

p. 361, l. 36 the World. 1724 'that World'.

p. 362, l. 6 smiling to the Princess. 1724 reads 'Er. who comes out smiling.'

p. 363, l. 18 Galatea's Apartments. I have supplied the locale.

p. 365, l. 8 'twas. 4to 1690 and 1724 'twere'.

p. 365, l. 12 The Bedchamber. I have supplied this locale.

p. 365, l. 14 so. 4to 1671 'now'.

p. 365, l. 20 Weeps. 4to 1671 only has 'Weeps.' 4to 1690 and 1724 give the stage direction in full.

p. 365, l. 31 Influence. 4to 1671 'Influences' to the ruin of the metre.

p. 366, l. 6 as touch her. 4to 1690, 1724 'to touch her'.

p. 368, l. 8 Princes. 4tos 1671, 1690 read 'Princess'.

p. 368, l. 14 who goes. 4tos 1671, 1690 'and goes'.

p. 368, l. 32 Do. 4to 1671 'So'.

p. 369, l. 28 what. 4to 1671 'which'.

p. 371, l. 8 The King's Chamber. I have supplied this locale and that of the following Scene (IV).

p. 374, l. 28 A Pass or two. Only in 4to 1671.

p. 375, l. 25 Alcip. Might I. Only 4to 1671 gives this speech to Alcippus. All other editions erroneously continue it as part of Galatea's speech.

p. 375, l. 32 My Love. 4to 1671 wrongly 'Thy love'.

p. 377, l. 13 Ease. 4to 1671 'easie'.

p. 381, l. 8 Exeunt. I have supplied this stage direction.



THE EMPEROR OF THE MOON.

p. 390, l. 1 To The Lord Marquess. The dedication only occurs in 4tos 1687, 1688.

p. 391, l. 6 Billet Doux. 4tos read 'Billet Deux'—The same form is found in the Prologue l. 8; but as no other instance of 'Billet Deux' occurs I have corrected what is doubtless a misprint.

p. 394, l. 28 Adznigs. 1724, 'Adzigs'.

p. 395 Dramatis Personae. I have added 'Page; Florinda, Cousin to Elaria and Bellemante.'

p. 398, l. 4 otherwise. 1724 'otherways'.

p. 399, l. 30 Rosycrusian. 4 to 1687 'Rosacrucian.'

p. 400, l. 16 Ma tres chere. 4 to 1687 'Matres chear.' 4to 1688 'Marrois chare.'

p,400, l. 27 tout autour. 4to 1687 'tout au toore.' 4to 1688 'tout au tour.'

p.400, l. 30 sighing. 1724 misprints 'fighting'.

p.400, l. 9 Cheveux blonds. 4tos 'Chevave Blond'.

p. 403, l. 30 Sylphs. 4to 1687 'Silfs.'

p. 409, l. 13 Scene III. All the former editions have Scene II.

p. 412, l. 21 Enter Doctor. Both 4tos and 1724 omit to mark this entrance which I have supplied.

p.413, l. 18 Draws. 1724 omits.

p.417, l. 19 The End of the First Act. Only in 4tos 1687, 1688.

p. 417, l. 21 A Chamber. I have added the locale.

p. 418, l. 26 the Street. 1724 'a Street.'

p. 418, l. 27 a Flambeaux. This is the reading of both 4tos. 1724 'a Flambeau'. As Sir T. Herbert, Travels (1638), has a plural 'Flambeauxes' I have retained 'Flambeaux' as a singular here, though no other instance can be cited.

p. 420, l. 6 Scene III. I have numbered this scene.

p. 420, l. 9 Florinda. I have inserted this name here and as speech-prefix instead of 'Lady'. It is supplied by Act ii, II, and again in this scene.