Joyn. I will to-morrow early; it shall be the first thing I'll do after my prayers.

Gripe. If Dapperwit should contaminate her I cannot rest till I have redeemed her from the jaws of that lion.-Good night.

Joyn. Good gentleman.

[Ereunt GRIPE and MARTHA. Sir Sim. Ha! ha! ha! Mrs. Joyner. Joyn. What's the matter, sir Simon? Sir Sim. Ha! ha! ha!-let us make haste to your house, or I shall burst, faith and troth, to see what fools you and I make of these people.

Joyn. I will not rob you of any of the credit:I am but a feeble instrument, you are an engineer. Sir Sim. Remember what you say now when things succeed, and do not tell me then,-I must thank your wit for all.

Joyn. No, in truly, sir Simon.

Sir Sim. Nay, I am sure Dapperwit and I have been partners in many an intrigue, and he uses to

serve me so.

Joyn. He is an ill man to intrigue with, as you call it.

Sir Sim. Ay, so are all your wits; a pox! if a

cannot do a wise action but they go away with the honour of it, if he be of their acquaintance.

Joyn. Why do you keep such acquaintance then? Sir Sim. There is a proverb, Mrs. Joyner, You may know him by his company.

Joyn. No, no, to be thought a man of parts, you must always keep company with a man of less wit than yourself.

Sir Sim. That's the hardest thing in the world for me to do, faith and troth.

Joyn. What, to find a man of less wit than yourself? Pardon my raillery, sir Simon.

Sir Sim. No, no, I cannot keep company with a fool:-I wonder how men of parts can do't, there's something in't.

Joyn. If you could, all your wise actions would be your own, and your money would be your own

too.

Sir Sim. Nay, faith and troth, that's true; for your wits are plaguily given to borrow. They'll borrow of their wench, coachman, or linkboy, their hire, Mrs. Joyner; Dapperwit has that trick with a vengeance.

Joyn. Why will you keep company with him then, I say ? for, to be plain with you, you have followed him so long, that you are thought but his cully; for every wit has his cully, as every squire his led captain.

Sir Sim. I his cully, I his cully, Mrs. Joyner! Lord, that I should be thought a cully to any wit breathing!

Joyn. Nay, do not take it so to heart, for the best wits of the town are but cullies themselves.

Sir Sim. To whom, to whom, to whom, Mrs. Joyner ?

Joyn. To sempstresses and bawds.

Sir Sim. To your knowledge Mrs. Joyner.[Aside.] There I was with her.

Joyn. To tailors and vintners, but especially to the French houses.

Sir Sim. But Dapperwit is a cully to none of them; for he ticks.

Joyn. I care not, but I wish you were a cully to none but me; that's all the hurt I wish you.

Sir Sim. Thank you, Mrs. Joyner. Well, I will throw off Dapperwit's acquaintance when I am | married, and will only be a cully to my wife; and that's no more than the wisest husband of 'em all is.

Joyn. Then you think you shall carry Mrs. Martha ?

Sir Sim. Your hundred guineas are as good as in your lap.

Joyn. But I am afraid this double plot of yours should fail you would sooner succeed if you only designed upon Mrs. Martha, or only upon my lady Flippant.

Sir Sim. Nay, then, you are no woman of intrigue, faith and troth: 'tis good to have two strings to one's bow. If Mrs. Martha be coy, I tell the widow I put on my disguise for her; but if Mrs. Martha be kind to Jonas, sir Simon Addleplot will be false to the widow: which is no more than widows are used to; for a promise to a widow is as seldom kept as a vow made at sea, as Dapperwit

Vin. A pox! I hate his impertinent chat more than he does the honest Burgundy.

Dap. But why should you force wine upon us? we are not all of your gusto.

Vin. But why should you force your chawed jests, your damned ends of your mouldy lampoons. and last year's sonnets, upon us? we are not all of your gusto.

Dap. The wine makes me sick, let me perish! Vin. Thy rhymes make me spew.

Ran. At repartee already! Come, Vincent, I know you would rather have him pledge you: here,

Vin. But she is more troublesome than a wife that lies in, because she follows you to your haunts.

Dap. This Ranger, Mr. Vincent, is as false to his friend as his wench.

Vin. You have no reason to say so, but because he is absent.

Dap. 'Tis disobliging to tell a man of his faults to his face. If he had but your grave parts and manly wit, I should adore him; but, a pox! he is a mere buffoon, a jack-pudding, let me perish!

Vin. You are an ungrateful fellow. I have heard him maintain you had wit, which was more than e'er you could do for yourself.—I thought you had owned him your Mæcenas.

Dap. A pox! he cannot but esteem me, 'tis for his honour; but I cannot but be just for all thatwithout favour or affection. Yet I confess I love him so well, that I wish he had but the hundredth part of your courage.

Vin. He has had the courage to save you from many a beating, to my knowledge.

Dap. Come, come, I wish the man well, and, next to you, better than any man; and, I am sorry to say it, he has not courage to snuff a candle with his fingers. When he is drunk, indeed, he dares get a clap, or so—and swear at a constable.

Ran. Faith, I may allow her any privilege, and be too hard for her yet. How do you think I have cheated her to-night?-Women are poor credulous creatures, easily deceived.

Vin. We are poor credulous creatures, when wel think 'em so.

Ran. Intending a ramble to St. James's Park to-night, upon some probable hopes of some fresh game I have in chase, I appointed her to stay at home; with a promise to come to her within this hour, that she might not spoil the scent and prevent my sport.

Vin. She'll be even with you when you are married, I warrant you. In the mean time here's her health, Dapperwit.

Ran. Now had he rather be at the window, writing her anagram in the glass with his diamond, or biting his nails in the corner for a fine thought to come and divert us with at the table.

Dap. No, a pox! I have no wit to-night. I am as barren and hide-bound as one of your damned scribbling poets, who are sots in company for all their wit; as a miser is poor for all his money. How do you like the thought?

Vin. Drink, drink!

Dap. Well, I can drink this, because I shall be reprieved presently.

Vin. Who will be so civil to us?

Dap. Sir Simon Addleplot :-I have bespoke him a supper here, for he treats to-night a new rich mistress.

Ran. That spark, who has his fruitless designs upon the bed-ridden rich widow, down to the sucking heiress in her pissing-clout. He was once the sport, but now the public grievance, of all the fortunes in town; for he watches them like a younger brother that is afraid to be mumped of his snip, and they cannot steal a marriage, nor stay their stomachs, but he must know it.

Dap. He has now pitched his nets for Gripe's daughter, the rich scrivener, and serves him as a clerk to get admission to her; which the watchful fop her father denies to all others.

Ran. I thought you had been nibbling at her once, under pretence of love to her aunt.

Dap. I confess I have the same design yet, and Addleplot is but my agent whilst he thinks me his. He brings me letters constantly from her, and carries mine back.

Vin. Still betraying your best friends!

Dap. I cannot in honour but betray him. Let me perish the poor young wench is taken with

my person, and would scratch through four walls

to come to me.

Vin. 'Tis a sign she is kept up close indeed. Dap. Betray him! I'll not be traitor to love for any man.

Enter Sir SIMON ADDLEPLOT with the Waiter.

Sir Sim. Know 'em! you are a saucy Jack-straw to question me, faith and troth ; I know everybody, and everybody knows me.

All. Sir Simon! Sir Simon! Sir Simon!

Ran. And you are a welcome man to everybody.

Sir Sim. Now, son of a whore, do I know the gentlemen ?-A dog! would have had a shilling of me before he would let me come to you!

Ran. The rogue has been bred at court, sure.— Get you out, sirrah. [Exit Waiter. Sir Sim. He has been bred at a French-house, where they are more unreasonable.

Vin. Here's to you, sir Simon.

Sir Sim. I cannot drink, for I have a mistress within; though I would not have the people of the house to know it.

Ran. You need not be ashamed of your mistresses, for they are commonly rich.

Sir Sim. And because she is rich, I would conceal her; for I never had a rich mistress yet, but one or other got her from me presently, faith and troth.

Ran. But this is an ill place to conceal a mistress in; every waiter is an intelligencer to your rivals.

Sir Sim. I have a trick for that:-I'll let no waiters come into the room; I'll lay the cloth myself rather.

Ran. But who is your mistress?

Sir Sim. Your servant,-your servant, Mr. Ranger.

Vin. Come, will you pledge me?

Sir Sim. No, I'll spare your wine, if you will spare me Dapperwit's company; I came for

that.

Vin. You do us a double favour, to take him and leave the wine.

Sir Sim. Come, come, Dapperwit.

Ran. Do not go, unless he will suffer us to see his mistress too. [Aside to DAPPERWIT.

Sir Sim. Come, come, man. Dap. Would you have me so uncivil as to leave my company?-they'll take it ill.

Sir Sim. I cannot find her talk without thee.Pray, gentlemen, persuade Mr. Dapperwit to go with me.

Ran. We will not hinder him of better company. Dap. Yours is too good to be left rudely. Sir Sim. Nay, gentlemen, I would desire your company too, if you knew the lady.

Dap. They know her as well as I; you say I

know her not.

Sir Sim. You are not everybody.

Ran. Perhaps we do know the lady, sir Simon. Sir Sim. You do not, you do not: none of you ever saw her in your lives;-but if you could be secret, and civil

Ran. We have drunk yet but our bottle a-piece. Sir Sim. But will you be civil, Mr. Vincent? Ran. He dares not look a woman in the face under three bottles.

Sir Sim. Come along then. But can you be

Vin. Is this the woman that we never saw! [Aside. Flip. Does he bring us into company!-and Dapperwit one! Though I had married the fool, I thought to have reserved the wit as well as other ladies. [Aside.

Sir Sim. Nay, look as long as you will, madam, you will find them civil gentlemen, and good company.

Flip. I am not in doubt of their civility, but yours. Joyn. You'll never leave snubbing your servants! Did you not promise to use him kindly?

[Aside to FLIPPANT. Flip. [Aside to JOYNER.] 'Tis true.-[Aloud.] We wanted no good company, sir Simon, as long as we had yours.

Sir Sim. But they wanted good company, therefore I forced 'em to accept of yours.

Flip. They will not think the company good they were forced into, certainly.

Sir Sim. A pox! I must be using the words in fashion, though I never have any luck with 'em. Mrs. Joyner, help me off.

Joyn. I suppose, madam, he means the gentlemen wanted not inclination to your company, but confidence to desire so great an honour; therefore he forced 'em.

Dap. What makes this bawd here? Sure, mistress, you bawds should be like the small cards, though at first you make up a pack, yet, when the play begins, you should be put out as useless.

Joyn. Well, well, gibing companion: you would have the pimps kept in only? you would so? Vin. What, they are quarrelling!

Ran. Pimp and bawd agree now-a-days like doctor and apothecary.

Sir Sim. Try, madam, if they are not civil gentlemen talk with 'em, while I go lay the cloth— no waiter comes here.-[Aside.] My mother used to tell me, I should avoid all occasions of talking before my mistress, because silence is a sign of love as well as prudence. [Lays the cloth.

Flip. Methinks you look a little yellow on't, Mr. Dapperwit. I hope you do not censure me because you find me passing away a night with this fool :-he is not a man to be jealous of, sure. Dap. You are not a lady to be jealous of, sure. Flip. No, certainly. But why do you look as if

you were jealous then? Dap. If I had met you in Whetstone's-park, with a drunken foot-soldier, I should not have been jealous of you.

Flip. Fy, fy! now you are jealous, certainly; for people always, when they grow jealous, grow rude:-but I can pardon it since it proceeds from love certainly.

Dap. I am out of all hopes to be rid of this eternal old acquaintance: when I jeer her, she thinks herself praised; now I call her whore in plain English, she thinks I am jealous. [Aside.

Flip. Sweet Mr. Dapperwit, be not so censorious, (I speak for your sake, not my own,) for jealousy is a torment, but my honour cannot suffer certainly.

Dap. No, certainly; but the greatest torment I have is your love.

Flip. Alas! sweet Mr. Dapperwit, indeed love is a torment: but 'tis a sweet torment; but jealousy is a bitter torment.-I do not go about to cure you of the torment of my love.

Dap. 'Tis a sign so.

Flip. Come, come, look up, man; is that a rival to contest with you?

Dap. I will contest with no rival, not with my old rival your coachman; but they have heartily my resignation; and, to do you a favour, but myself a greater, I will help tie the knot you are fumbling for now, betwixt your cully here and you.

Flip. Go, go, I take that kind of jealousy worst of all, to suspect I would be debauched to beastly matrimony.-But who are those gentlemen, pray? are they men of fortunes, Mrs. Joyner ?

Joyn. I believe so.

Flip. Do you believe so, indeed?-Gentlemen[Advancing towards RANGER and VINCENT. Ran. If the civility we owe to ladies had not controlled our envy to Mr. Dapperwit, we had interrupted ere this your private conversation.

Flip. Your interruption, sir, had been most civil and obliging;-for our discourse was of marriage. Ran. That is a subject, madam, as grateful as

common.

Flip. O fy, fy! are you of that opinion too? I cannot suffer any to talk of it in my company. Ran. Are you married then, madam?

Flip. No, certainly.

Ran. I am sure so much beauty cannot despair of it.

Flip. Despair of it!—

Ran. Only those that are married, or cannot be married, hate to hear of marriage.

Flip. Yet you must know, sir, my aversion to marriage is such, that you, nor no man breathing, shall ever persuade me to it.

Ran. Cursed be the man should do so rude a thing as to persuade you to anything against your inclination! I would not do it for the world, madam.

Flip. Come, come, though you seem to be a civil gentleman, I think you no better than your neighbours. I do not know a man of you all that will not thrust a woman up into a corner, and then talk an hour to her impertinently of marriage.

Ran. You would find me another man in a corner, I assure you, madam; for you should not have a word of marriage from me, whatsoever you might find in my actions of it; I hate talking as much as you.

Flip. I hate it extremely.

Ran. I am your man then, madam; for I find just the same fault with your sex as you do with ours-I ne'er could have to do with woman in my life, but still she would be impertinently talking of marriage to me.

Flip. Observe that, Mrs. Joyner.

Dap. Pray, Mr. Ranger, let's go; I had rather drink with Mr. Vincent, than stay here with you; besides 'tis Park-time.

Ran. [To DAPPERWIT.] I come.-[To FLIPPANT.] Since you are a lady that hate marriage, I'll do you the service to withdraw the company; for those that hate marriage hate loss of time.

Flip. Will you go then, sir? but before you go, sir, pray tell me is your aversion to marriage real?

Ran. Certainly. Flip. Come, I cannot believe it: you dissemble it only because I pretend it.

Ran. Do you but pretend it then, madam? Flip. [Aside] I shall discover myself—[Aloud] I mean, because I hold against it, you do the same in complaisance :-for I have heard say, cunning men think to bring the coy and untractable women to tameness as they do some mad people-by humouring their frenzies.

Ran. I am none of those cunning men, yet have too much wit to entertain the presumption of designing upon you.

Flip. 'Twere no such presumption neither. Dap. Come away; 'sdeath! don't you see your danger?

Ran. Those aims are for sir Simon.-Good night, madam.

Flip. Will you needs go, then?-[To Sir SIMON] The gentlemen are a going, sir Simon; will you let 'em?

Sir Sim. Nay, madam, if you cannot keep 'em, how should I?

Flip. Stay, sir; because you hate marriage, I'll sing you a new song against it. [Sings.

A spouse I do hate,

For either she's false or she's jealous;
But give us a mate

Who nothing will ask us or tell us.
She stands on no terms,
Nor chaffers, by way of indenture,
Her love for your farms;
But takes her kind man at a venture.

If all prove not right,
Without an act, process, or warning,
From wife for a night

You may be divorced in the morning.
When parents are slaves,
Their brats cannot be any other;

Great wits and great braves
Have always a punk to their mother.

Though it be the fashion for women of quality to sing any song whatever, because the words are not distinguished, yet I should have blushed to have done it now, but for you, sir.

Ran. The song is edifying, the voice admirable -and, once more, I am your servant, madam. Flip. What, will you go too, Mr. Dapperwit? Sir Sim. Pray, Mr. Dapperwit, do not you go

too.