ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

The Inn.
Knocking without.
Enter Boniface.

Bon. Coming, coming—a coach and six foaming horses at this time o'night! some great man, as the saying is, for he scorns to travel with other people.

Enter Sir Charles Freeman.

Sir C. What, fellow! a public house, and abed when other people sleep?

Bon. Sir, I an't abed, as the saying is.

Sir C. I see that, as the saying is! Is Mr. Sullen's family abed, think ye?

Bon. All but the 'squire himself, sir, as the saying is; he's in the house.

Sir C. What company has he?

Bon. Why, sir, there's the constable, Mr. Gage, the exciseman, the hunch-backed barber, and two or three other gentlemen.

Sir C. I find my sister's letters gave me the true picture of her spouse.

Enter Sullen, drunk.

Bon. Sir, here's the 'squire.

Sul. The puppies left me asleep——sir.

Sir C. Well, sir.

Sul. Sir, I am an unfortunate man—I have three thousand pounds a year, and I can't get a man to drink a cup of ale with me.

Sir C. That's very hard.

Sul. Ay, sir,—and unless you have pity upon me, and smoke one pipe with me, I must e'en go home to my wife, and I had rather go to the devil by half.

Sir C. But I presume, sir, you won't see your wife to-night, she'll be gone to bed——you don't use to lie with your wife in that pickle.

Sul. What! not lie with my wife! Why, sir, do you take me for an atheist, or a rake?

Sir C. If you hate her, sir, I think you had better lie from her.

Sul. I think so too, friend——but I am a justice of peace, and must do nothing against the law.

Sir C. Law! as I take it, Mr. Justice, nobody observes law for law's sake, only for the good of those for whom it was made.

Sul. But if the law orders me to send you to gaol, you must lie there, my friend.

Sir C. Not unless I commit a crime to deserve it.

Sul. A crime! oons, an't I married?

Sir C. Nay, sir, if you call marriage a crime, you must disown it for a law.

Sul. Eh!—I must be acquainted with you, sir,—but, sir, I should be very glad to know the truth of this matter.

Sir C. Truth, sir, is a profound sea, and few there be that dare wade deep enough to find out the bottom on't. Besides, sir, I am afraid the line of your understanding mayn't be long enough.

Sul. Lookye, sir, I have nothing to say to your sea of truth; but if a good parcel of land can entitle a man to a little truth, I have as much as any he in the county.

Bon. I never heard your worship, as the saying is, talk so much before.

Sul. Because I never met with a man that I liked before.

Bon. Pray, sir, as the saying is, let me ask you one question: are not man and wife one flesh?

Sir C. You and your wife, Mr. Guts, may be one flesh, because you are nothing else——but rational creatures have minds that must be united.

Sul. Minds!

Sir C. Ay, minds, sir; don't you think that the mind takes place of the body?

Sul. In some people.

Sir C. Then the interest of the master must be consulted before that of his servant.

Sul. Sir, you shall dine with me to-morrow——Oons, I always thought that we were naturally one.

Sir C. Sir, I know that my two hands are naturally one, because they love one another, kiss one another, help one another in all the actions of life; but I could not say so much if they were always at cuffs.

Sul. Then 'tis plain that we are two.

Sir C. Why don't you part with her, sir?

Sul. Will you take her, sir?

Sir C. With all my heart.

Sul. You shall have her to-morrow morning, and a venison pasty into the bargain.

Sir C. You'll let me have her fortune too?

Sul. Fortune! why, sir, I have no quarrel to her fortune——I only hate the woman, sir, and none but the woman shall go.

Sir C. But her fortune, sir——

Sul. Can you play at whist, sir?

Sir C. No, truly, sir.

Sul. Not at all-fours?

Sir C. Neither.

Sul. Oons! where was this man bred? [Aside.] Burn me, sir, I can't go home; 'tis but two o'clock.

Sir C. For half an hour, sir, if you please—but you must consider 'tis late.

Sul. Late! that is the reason I can't go to bed—Come, sir——[Exeunt.

Enter Cherry; she runs across the Stage, and knocks
at Aimwell's Chamber Door.
Enter Aimwell.

Aim. What's the matter? you tremble, child; you are frighted!

Cher. No wonder, sir—but, in short, sir, this very minute a gang of rogues are gone to rob my Lady Bountiful's house.

Aim. How!

Cher. I dogged them to the very door, and left them breaking in.

Aim. Have you alarmed any body else with the news?

Cher. No, no, sir; I wanted to have discovered the whole plot, and twenty other things, to your man, Martin; but I have searched the whole house, and can't find him; where is he?

Aim. No matter, child; will you guide me immediately to the house?

Cher. With all my heart, sir: my Lady Bountiful is my godmother, and I love Mrs. Dorinda so well—

Aim. Dorinda! the name inspires me! the glory and the danger shall be all my own——Come, my life, let me but get my sword. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Bedchamber in Lady Bountiful's House.
Mrs. Sullen and Dorinda discovered; a Table
and Lights.

Dor. 'Tis very late, sister; no news of your spouse yet?

Mrs. Sul. No; I'm condemned to be alone till towards four, and then, perhaps, I may be executed with his company.

Dor. Well, my dear, I'll leave you to your rest; you'll go directly to bed, I suppose.

Mrs. Sul. I don't know what to do; heigho!

Dor. That's a desiring sigh, sister.

Mrs. Sul. This is a languishing hour, sister.

Dor. And might prove a critical minute, if the pretty fellow were here.

Mrs. Sul. Here? what, in my bedchamber, at two o'clock i'th' morning, I undressed, the family asleep, my hated husband abroad, and my lovely fellow at my feet!——O, gad, sister!

Dor. Thoughts are free, sister, and them I allow you—So, my dear, good night. [Exit.

Mrs. Sul. A good rest to my dear Dorinda——Thoughts free! are they so? why, then, suppose him here, dressed like a youthful, gay, and burning bridegroom, [Archer steals out of the Closet.] with tongue enchanting, eyes bewitching, knees imploring [Turns a little on one Side, and sees Archer in the Posture she describes.]—Ah! [Shrieks, and runs to the other Side of the Stage.]. Have my thoughts raised a spirit? What are you, sir? a man, or a devil?

Arch. A man, a man, madam. [Rising.

Mrs. Sul. How shall I be sure of it?

Arch. Madam, I'll give you demonstration this minute.

[Takes her Hand.

Mrs. Sul. What, sir! do you intend to be rude?

Arch. Yes, madam, if you please.

Mrs. Sul. In the name of wonder, whence came ye?

Arch. From the skies, madam—I'm a Jupiter in love, and you shall be my Alcmena.

Mrs. Sul. How came you in?

Arch. I flew in at the window, madam; your cousin Cupid lent me his wings, and your sister Venus opened the casement.

Mrs. Sul. I'm struck dumb with admiration.

Arch. And I with wonder. [Looks passionately at her.

Mrs. Sul. What will become of me?

Arch. How beautiful she looks!——the teeming jolly spring smiles in her blooming face, and when she was conceived, her mother smelt to roses, looked on lilies——

Lilies unfold their white, their fragrant charms,
When the warm sun thus darts into their arms.

[Runs to her.

Mrs. Sul. Ah! [Shrieks.

Arch. Oons, madam, what do you mean? you'll raise the house.

Mrs. Sul. Sir, I'll wake the dead, before I bear this. What! approach me with the freedoms of a keeper! I'm glad on't; your impudence has cured me.

Arch. If this be impudence, [Kneels.] I leave to your partial self; no panting pilgrim, after a tedious, painful, voyage, e'er bowed before his saint with more devotion.

Mrs. Sul. Now, now, I'm ruined if he kneels. [Aside.] Rise, thou prostrate engineer; not all thy undermining skill shall reach my heart. Rise, and know that I am a woman, without my sex; I can love to all the tenderness of wishes, sighs, and tears—But go no farther—Still, to convince you that I'm more than woman, I can speak my frailty, confess my weakness even for——But——

Arch. For me!

[Going to lay hold on her.

Mrs. Sul. Hold, sir; build not upon that—for my most mortal hatred follows, if you disobey what I command you now—leave me this minute—If he denies, I'm lost. [Aside.

Arch. Then you'll promise——

Mrs. Sul. Any thing another time.

Arch. When shall I come?

Mrs. Sul. To-morrow—when you will.

Arch. Your lips must seal the promise.

Mrs. Sul. Pshaw!

Arch. They must, they must. [Kisses her.] Raptures and paradise! and why not now, my angel? The time, the place, silence, and secrecy, all conspire—And the now conscious stars have pre-ordained this moment for my happiness.

[Takes her in his Arms.

Mrs. Sul. You will not, cannot, sure.

Arch. If the sun rides fast, and disappoints not mortals of to-morrow's dawn, this night shall crown my joys.

Mrs. Sul. My sex's pride assist me.

Arch. My sex's strength help me.

Mrs. Sul. You shall kill me first.

Arch. I'll die with you. [Carrying her off.

Mrs. Sul. Thieves! thieves! murder!——

Enter Scrub, in his Breeches, and one Shoe.

Scrub. Thieves! thieves! murder! popery!

SCRUB—O PRAY SIR SPARE ALL I HAVE
AND TAKE MY LIFE.
ACT V SCENE III
Click to [ENLARGE]

Arch. Ha!

[Draws, and offers to stab Scrub.

Scrub. [Kneeling.] O pray, sir, spare all I have, and take my life.

Mrs. Sul. [Holding Archer's Hand.] What does the fellow mean?

Scrub. O, madam, down upon your knees, your marrowbones——he's one of them.

Arch. Of whom?

Scrub. One of the rogues——I beg your pardon, one of the honest gentlemen, that just now are broke into the house.

Arch. How!

Mrs. Sul. I hope you did not come to rob me?

Arch. Indeed I did, madam, but I would have taken nothing but what you might very well have spared; but your crying, Thieves, has waked this dreaming fool, and so he takes them for granted.

Scrub. Granted! 'tis granted, sir; take all we have.

Mrs. Sul. The fellow looks as if he were broke out of Bedlam.

Scrub. Oons, madam, they're broke into the house with fire and sword; I saw them, heard them, they'll be here this minute.

Arch. What! thieves!

Scrub. Under favour, sir, I think so.

Mrs. Sul. What shall we do, sir?

Arch. Madam, I wish your ladyship a good night.

Mrs. Sul. Will you leave me?

Arch. Leave you! lord, madam, did not you command me to begone just now, upon pain of your immortal hatred.

Mrs. Sul. Nay, but pray, sir——[Takes hold of him.

Arch. Ha! ha! ha! now comes my turn to be ravished—You see now, madam, you must use men one way or other; but take this by the way, good madam, that none but a fool will give you the benefit of his courage, unless you'll take his love along with it—How are they armed, friend?

Scrub. With sword and pistol, sir.

[He gets under the Table.

Arch. Hush!——I see a dark lanthorn coming through the gallery——Madam, be assured I will protect you, or lose my life.

Mrs. Sul. Your life! no, sir, they can rob me of nothing that I value half so much; therefore now, sir, let me entreat you to begone.

Arch. No, madam, I'll consult my own safety, for the sake of yours; I'll work by stratagem: have you courage enough to stand the appearance of them?

Mrs. Sul. Yes, yes; since I have escaped your hands, I can face any thing.

Arch. Come hither, brother Scrub; don't you know me?

Scrub. Eh! my dear brother, let me kiss thee!

[Kisses Archer.

Arch. This way——Here——

[Archer and Scrub hide.

Enter Gibbet, with a dark Lanthorn in one Hand,
and a Pistol in the other.

Gib. Ay, ay, this is the chamber, and the lady alone.

Mrs. Sul. Who are you, sir? What would you have? D'ye come to rob me?

Gib. Rob you! alack a day, madam, I'm only a younger brother, madam; and so, madam, if you make a noise, I'll shoot you through the head: but don't be afraid, madam. [Laying his Lanthorn and Pistol upon the Table.] These rings, madam; don't be concerned, madam; I have a profound respect for you, madam; your keys, madam; don't be frighted, madam; I'm the most of a gentleman. [Searching her Pockets.] This necklace, madam; I never was rude to any lady! I have a veneration—for this necklace.

[Here Archer, having come round, and seized
the Pistol, takes Gibbet by the Collar, trips
up his Heels, and claps the Pistol to his Breast.

Arch. Hold, profane villain, and take the reward of thy sacrilege.

Gib. Oh! pray, sir, don't kill me; I an't prepared.

Arch. How many is there of them, Scrub?

Scrub. Five and forty, sir.

Arch. Then I must kill the villain, to have him out of the way.

Gib. Hold! hold! sir; we are but three, upon my honour.

Arch. Scrub, will you undertake to secure him?

Scrub. Not I, sir; kill him, kill him!

Arch. Run to Gipsey's chamber; there you'll find the doctor; bring him hither presently. [Exit Scrub, running.] Come, rogue, if you have a short prayer, say it.

Gib. Sir, I have no prayer at all; the government has provided a chaplain to say prayers for us on these occasions.

Mrs. Sul. Pray, sir, don't kill him: You fright me as much as him.

Arch. The dog shall die, madam, for being the occasion of my disappointment.—Sirrah, this moment is your last.

Gib. Sir, I'll give you two hundred pounds to spare my life.

Arch. Have you no more, rascal?

Gib. Yes, sir, I can command four hundred; but I must reserve two of them to save my life at the sessions.

Enter Scrub and Foigard.

Arch. Here, doctor: I suppose Scrub and you, between you, may manage him:——Lay hold of him.

[Foigard lays hold of Gibbet.

Gib. What! turned over to the priest already——Lookye, doctor, you come before your time; I an't condemned yet, I thank ye.

Foig. Come, my dear joy, I vil secure your body and your shoul too; I will make you a good catholic, and give you an absolution.

Gib. Absolution! Can you procure me a pardon, doctor?

Foig. No, joy.——

Gib. Then you and your absolution may go to the devil.

Arch. Convey him into the cellar, there bind him:—Take the pistol, and if he offers to resist, shoot him through the head,—and come back to us with all the speed you can.

Scrub. Ay, ay; come, doctor, do you hold him fast, and I'll guard him.

[Exeunt Scrub, Gibbet, and Foigard.

Mrs. Sul. But how came the doctor?

Arch. In short, madam——[Shrieking without.] 'Sdeath! the rogues are at work with the other ladies:—I'm vexed I parted with the pistol; but I must fly to their assistance—Will you stay here, madam, or venture yourself with me?

Mrs. Sul. Oh, with you, dear sir, with you.

[Takes him by the Arm, and exeunt.

SCENE III.

Another Apartment.
Enter Hounslow and Bagshot, with Swords drawn,
dragging in Lady Bountiful and Dorinda.

Houns. Come, come, your jewels, mistress.

Bag. Your keys, your keys, old gentlewoman.

Enter Aimwell.

Aim. Turn this way, villains; I durst engage an army in such a cause.

[He engages them both.

Enter Archer and Mrs. Sullen.

Arch. Hold! hold! my lord; every man his bird, pray.

[They engage Man to Man; the Rogues are
thrown down, and disarmed.

Arch. Shall we kill the rogues?

Aim. No, no; we'll bind them.

Arch. Ay, ay; here, madam, lend me your garter.

[To Mrs. Sullen, who stands by him.

Mrs. Sul. The devil's in this fellow; he fights, loves, and banters all in a breath: here's a rope, that the rogues brought with them, I suppose.

Arch. Right, right, the rogue's destiny, a rope to hang himself——Come, my lord,——this is but a scandalous sort of an office, [Binding the Rogues together.] if our adventure should end in this sort of hangmanwork; but I hope there is something in prospect that—

Enter Scrub.

Well, Scrub, have you secured your Tartar?

Scrub. Yes, sir, I left the priest and him disputing about religion.

Aim. And pray carry these gentlemen to reap the benefit of the controversy.

[Delivers the Prisoners to Scrub,
who leads them out.

Mrs. Sul. Pray, sister, how came my lord here?

Dor. And pray, how came the gentleman here?

Mrs. Sul. I'll tell you the greatest piece of villainy—

[They talk in dumb Show.

Aim. I fancy, Archer, you have been more successful in your adventure than the housebreakers.

Arch. No matter for my adventure, yours is the principal——Press her this minute to marry you,—now while she's hurried between the palpitation of her fear, and the joy of her deliverance, now while the tide of her spirits are at high-flood:——throw yourself at her feet, speak some romantic nonsense or other;—confound her senses, bear down her reason, and away with her:—The priest is now in the cellar, and dare not refuse to do the work.

Aim. But how shall I get off without being observed?

Arch. You a lover, and not find a way to get off!—Let me see.

Aim. You bleed, Archer.

Arch. 'Sdeath, I'm glad on't; this wound will do the business—I'll amuse the old lady and Mrs. Sullen about dressing my wound, while you carry off Dorinda.

Lady B. Gentlemen, could we understand how you would be gratified for the services——

Arch. Come, come, my lady, this is no time for compliments; I'm wounded, madam.

Lady B. and Mrs. Sul. How! wounded!

Dor. I hope, sir, you have received no hurt?

Aim. None but what you may cure——

[Makes love in dumb Show.

Lady B. Let me see your arm, sir—I must have some powder sugar, to stop the blood——O me! an ugly gash; upon my word, sir, you must go into bed.

Arch. Ay, my lady, a bed would do very well——Madam, [To Mrs. Sullen.] will you do me the favour to conduct me to a chamber?

Lady B. Do, do, daughter,——while I get the lint, and the probe, and plaister ready.

[Runs out one Way; Aimwell carries off Dorinda another.

Arch. Come, madam, why don't you obey your mother's commands?

Mrs. Sul. How can you, after what is past, have the confidence to ask me?

Arch. And if you go to that, how can you, after what is past, have the confidence to deny me?——Was not this blood shed in your defence, and my life exposed for your protection?—Lookye, madam, I'm none of your romantic fools, that fight giants and monsters for nothing; my valour is downright Swiss; I am a soldier of fortune, and must be paid.

Mrs. Sul. 'Tis ungenerous in you, sir, to upbraid me with your services.

Arch. 'Tis ungenerous in you, madam, not to reward them.

Mrs. Sul. How! at the expense of my honour!

Arch. Honour! Can honour consist with ingratitude? If you would deal like a woman of honour, do like a man of honour: d'ye think I would deny you in such a case?

Enter Gipsey.

Gip. Madam, my lady ordered me to tell you, that your brother is below at the gate.

Mrs. Sul. My brother! Heavens be praised:—Sir, he shall thank you for your services; he has it in his power.

Arch. Who is your brother, madam?

Mrs. Sul. Sir Charles Freeman:——You'll excuse me, sir; I must go and receive him. [Exit.

Arch. Sir Charles Freeman! 'Sdeath and hell!——My old acquaintance. Now, unless Aimwell has made good use of his time, all our fair machine goes souse into the sea, like an Eddistone. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

The Gallery in the same House.
Enter Aimwell and Dorinda.

Dor. Well, well, my lord, you have conquered:—your late generous action will, I hope, plead for my easy yielding; though, I must own, your lordship had a friend in the fort before.

Aim. The sweets of Hybla dwell upon her tongue—Here, doctor!——

Enter Foigard, with a Book.

Foig. Are you prepared bote?

Dor. I'm ready. But first, my lord, one word—I have a frightful example of a hasty marriage in my own family; when I reflect upon't, it shocks me.—Pray, my lord, consider a little——

Aim. Consider! Do you doubt my honour, or my love?

Dor. Neither—I do believe you equally just as brave; and were your whole sex drawn out for me to chuse, I should not cast a look upon the multitude, if you were absent.—But, my lord, I'm a woman; colours, concealments, may hide a thousand faults in me—therefore, know me better first; I hardly dare affirm, I know myself in any thing, except my love.

Aim. Such goodness who could injure! I find myself unequal to the task of villain; she has gained my soul, and made it honest like her own—I cannot hurt her. [Aside.] Doctor, retire. [Exit Foigard.] Madam, behold your lover, and your proselyte, and judge of my passion by my conversion.—I'm all a lie, nor dare I give a fiction to your arms;—I am all a counterfeit, except my passion.

Dor. Forbid it, Heaven!—A counterfeit!

Aim. I am no lord, but a poor, needy man, come with a mean, a scandalous design, to prey upon your fortune:—But the beauties of your mind and person, have so won me from myself, that, like a trusty servant, I prefer the interest of my mistress to my own.

Dor. Pray, sir, who are you?

Aim. Brother to the man, whose title I usurped, but stranger to his honour or his fortune.

Dor. Matchless honesty!—Once I was proud, sir, of your wealth and title, but now am prouder that you want it: now I can show, that my love was justly levelled, and had no aim but love.—Doctor, come in.

Enter Foigard, at one Door, Gipsey at another,
who whispers Dorinda.

Your pardon, sir; we shan't want you now, sir. You must excuse me—I'll wait on you presently.

[Exit with Gipsey.

Foig. Upon my shoul, now, dis is foolish. [Exit.

Aim. Gone! and bid the priest depart—It has an ominous look!

Enter Archer.

Arch. Courage, Tom——Shall I wish you joy?

Aim. No.

Arch. Oons, man! what ha' you been doing?

Aim. O Archer, my honesty, I fear, has ruined me.

Arch. How!

Aim. I have discovered myself.

Arch. Discovered! and without my consent?—What! have I embarked my small remains in the same bottom with yours, and you dispose of all without my partnership?

Aim. O, Archer, I own my fault.

Arch. After conviction—'tis then too late for pardon.—You may remember, Mr. Aimwell, that you proposed this folly—As you begun, so end it—Henceforth, I'll hunt my fortune single—so farewell.

Aim. Stay, my dear Archer, but a minute.

Arch. Stay! What, to be despised, exposed, and laughed at?—No, I would sooner change conditions with the worst of the rogues we just now bound, than bear one scornful smile from the proud knight, that once I treated as my equal.

Aim. What knight?

Arch. Sir Charles Freeman, brother to the lady that I had almost——But, no matter for that, 'tis a cursed night's work, and so I leave you to make the best on't.

Aim. Freeman!—One word, Archer—Still I have hopes; methought, she received my confession with pleasure.

Arch. 'Sdeath! who doubts it?

Aim. She consented after to the match; and still I dare believe she will be just.

Arch. To herself, I warrant her; as you should have been.

Aim. By all my hopes, she comes! and smiling comes.

Enter Dorinda, gaily.

Dor. Come, my dear lord, I fly with impatience to your arms.—The minutes of my absence was a tedious year.—Where's this priest?

Enter Foigard.

Arch. Oons! a brave girl!

Dor. I suppose, my lord, this gentleman is privy to our affairs?

Arch. Yes, yes, madam, I'm to be your father.

Dor. Come, priest, do your office.

Arch. Make haste, make haste! couple them any way. [Takes Aimwell's Hand.] Come, madam, I'm to give you——

Dor. My mind's altered—I won't.

Arch. Eh!

Aim. I'm confounded!

Foig. Upon my shoul, and so is myshelf!

Arch. What's the matter now, madam?

Dor. Lookye, sir, one generous action deserves another.—This gentleman's honour obliged him to hide nothing from me; my justice engages me to conceal nothing from him. In short, sir, you are the person that you thought you counterfeited; you are the true Lord Viscount Aimwell, and I wish your lordship joy.—Now, priest, you may begone;—if my lord is now pleased with the match, let his lordship marry me in the face of the world.

Aim. Archer, what does she mean?

Dor. Here's a witness for my truth.

Enter Sir Charles, and Mrs. Sullen.

Sir C. My dear Lord Aimwell, I wish you joy!

Aim. Of what?

Sir C. Of your honour and estate. Your brother died the day before I left London; and all your friends have writ after you to Brussels: among the rest, I did myself the honour.

Arch. Harkye, sir knight, don't you banter now?

Sir C. 'Tis truth, upon my honour.

Aim. Thanks to the pregnant stars, that formed this accident.

Arch. Thanks to the womb of time, that brought it forth—away with it.

Aim. Thanks to my guardian angel, that led me to the prize.

[Taking Dorinda's Hand.

Arch. And double thanks to the noble Sir Charles Freeman.—My lord, I wish you joy. My lady, I wish you joy.—Egad, Sir Charles, you're the honestest fellow living.—'Sdeath! I'm grown strangely airy upon this matter.——My lord, how d'ye?——A word, my lord: Don't you remember something of a previous agreement, that entitles me to the moiety of this lady's fortune, which, I think, will amount to ten thousand pounds?

Aim. Not a penny, Archer: you would have cut my throat just now, because I would not deceive this lady.

Arch. Ay, and I'll cut your throat still, if you should deceive her now.

Aim. That's what I expect; and to end the dispute, the lady's fortune is twenty thousand pounds, we'll divide stakes; take the twenty thousand pounds, or the lady.

Dor. How! is your lordship so indifferent?

Arch. No, no, no, madam! his lordship knows very well, that I'll take the money; I leave you to his lordship, and so we are both provided for.

Enter Foigard.

Foig. Arra fait, de people do say, you be all robbed, joy.

Aim. The ladies have been in some danger, sir, as you saw.

Foig. Upon my shoul, our inn be rob too.

Aim. Our inn! By whom?

Foig. Upon my shalvation, our landlord has robbed himself, and run away wid da money.

Arch. Robbed himself!

Foig. Ay, fait! and me too, of a hundred pounds.

Arch. Robbed you of a hundred pounds!

Foig. Yes, fait, honey, that I did owe to him.

Aim. Our money's gone, Frank!

Arch. Rot the money! my wench is gone.

Sir C. This good company meets opportunely in favour of a design I have in behalf of my unfortunate sister: I intend to part her from her husband. Gentlemen, will you assist me?

Arch. Assist you!—'Sdeath! who would not?

Foig. Ay, upon my shoul, we'll all ashist.

Enter Sullen.

Sul. What's all this?——They tell me, spouse, that you had like to have been robbed.

Mrs. Sul. Truly, spouse, I was pretty near it—had not these two gentlemen interposed.

Sul. How came these gentlemen here?

Mrs. Sul. That's his way of returning thanks, you must know.

Foig. Ay, but upon my conshience, de question be apropos, for all dat.

Sir C. You promised, last night, sir, that you would deliver your lady to me this morning.

Sul. Humph!

Arch. Humph! what do you mean by humph?—Sir, you shall deliver her——In short, sir, we have saved you and your family, and if you are not civil, we'll unbind the rogues, join with them, and set fire to your house.—What does the man mean? Not part with his wife!

Foig. Arra, not part wid your wife! Upon my shoul, de man dosh not understand common shivility.

Mrs. Sul. Hold, gentlemen, all things here must move by consent: compulsion would spoil us. Let my dear and I talk the matter over, and you shall judge it between us.

Sul. Let me know, first, who are to be our judges.—Pray, sir, who are you?

Sir C. I am Sir Charles Freeman, come to take away your wife.

Sul. And you, good sir?

Aim. Thomas, Viscount Aimwell, come to take away your sister.

Sul. And you, pray, sir?

Arch. Francis Archer, Esq. come——

Sul. To take away my mother, I hope.—Gentlemen, you are heartily welcome: I never met with three more obliging people since I was born.—And now, my dear, if you please, you shall have the first word.

Arch. And the last, for five pounds. [Aside.

Mrs. Sul. Spouse.

Sul. Rib.

Mrs. Sul. How long have you been married?

Sul. By the almanack, fourteen months—but, by my account, fourteen years.

Mrs. Sul. 'Tis thereabout, by my reckoning.

Foig. Upon my conshience, dere accounts vil agree.

Sir C. What are the bars to your mutual contentment?

Mrs. Sul. In the first place, I can't drink ale with him.

Sul. Nor can I drink tea with her.

Mrs. Sul. I can't hunt with you.

Sul. Nor can I dance with you.

Mrs. Sul. I hate cocking and racing.

Sul. And I abhor ombre and picquet.

Mrs. Sul. Your silence is intolerable.

Sul. Your prating is worse.

Mrs. Sul. Is there, on earth, a thing we can agree in?

Sul. Yes—to part.

Mrs. Sul. With all my heart.

Sul. Your hand.

Mrs. Sul. Here.

Sul. These hands joined us; these shall part us—Away!

Mrs. Sul. East.

Sul. West.

Mrs. Sul. North.

Sul. South: as far as the poles asunder.

Foig. Upon my shoul, a very pretty sheremony!

Sir C. Now, Mr. Sullen, there wants only my sister's fortune to make us easy.

Sul. Sir Charles, you love your sister, and I love her fortune; every one to his fancy.

Arch. Then you won't refund?

Sul. Not a stiver.

Arch. What is her portion?

Sir C. Ten thousand pounds, sir.

Arch. I'll pay it: my lord, I thank him, has enabled me; and, if the lady pleases, she shall go home with me. This night's adventure has proved strangely lucky to us all—For Captain Gibbet, in his walk, has made bold, Mr. Sullen, with your study and scrutoire, and has taken out all the writings of your estate, all the articles of marriage with your lady, bills, bonds, leases, receipts, to an infinite value; I took them from him, and will deliver them to Sir Charles.

Sul. How! my writings! my head aches consumedly.—Well, gentlemen, you shall have her fortune, but I can't talk. If you have a mind, Sir Charles, to be merry, and celebrate my sister's wedding and my divorce, you may command my house. But my head aches consumedly;—Scrub, bring me a dram.

Foig. And put a sup in the top for myself.

[Exeunt Foigard and Sullen.

Arch. 'Twould be hard to guess which of these parties is the better pleased, the couple joined, or the couple parted; the one rejoicing in hopes of an untasted happiness, and the other in their deliverance from an experienced misery.

Both happy in their several states, we find:
Those parted by consent, and those conjoin'd.
Consent, if mutual, saves the lawyer's fee;
Consent is law enough to set you free.

[Exeunt Omnes.

THE END.