lic too! If you take this freedom in the eye of the world, what would you do in private ?

Bar. I don't know what he may do in private; but

I hope you don't suspect me, captain.

Wor. Not in the least, dear Nanny; thy known virtue, and prudent management, is somewhat above the censure of the world.

Bar. Oh, your servant, sir.

Rove. 'Tis a strange thing to see how vice loves to be flattered! There's scarce a punk in town, be she never so notorious, but would fain be thought virtuous and hates to be called whore, even from the fellow that made her so.

Bar. I never expect your good word, Mr. Rovewell; I have denied you the favour too often.

Rove. Why, I may have asked you the question when drunk; but assure yourself I repented of it

when sober.

Bar. Lord, you need not be angry with yourself for it; I have denied several admirals.

Rove. And at the same time have taken up with their cockswains.

Bar. Sir, you grow scurrilous.-Shew a room there. Wor. Mind him not, he's a splenetic fellow; has my lieutenant, Sir Charles Pleasant, been here?

Bar. He's now in the house with Lieutenant Cribbidge, Easy, and Purser Indent.

Wor. Come, we'll join companies, they're all honest fellows.

Miz. With all my heart; if they're brutish, I'll try to reform them.

Draw. This way, gentlemen.

[Exeunt.

2d Draw. A sneaker of punch in the Crown, score. 3d Draw. A can of small beer, a quart of brandy, and a pound of sugar in the kitchen, score.

4th Draw. A box of dice for the Mermaid.

1st Draw. Make the great bowl full for the gentle. men in the Fleecer.

Bar. So, it begins to work in each room, and I must be plagued this whole night.

Enter BELINDA and ADVOCATE.

[Scene shuts.

Bel. I used to be troubled with the impertinent visits of Rovewell three or four times a day. Pr'ythee, Advocate, what's become of the coxcomb?

Ad. Oh! madam, the Virginia fleet's come in; and Captain Worthy, his old acquaintance, is on shore. They are inseparable friends.

Bel. Why then I hate him: for if he won't sacrifice his all to my humour, I'll ne'er part with the freedom I enjoy, to be that dull insipid thing a wife, to please his humour.

Ad. Well, madam, you play with him as a cat plays with a mouse; you fret and tease him till he'll get away from you at last.

Bel. Impertinent creature! do you think I value the loss of a fellow? The red, the blue, and the white flags die for me.

Ad. Ay, madam, they are married men; but have you a gentleman, whose sense, whose reputation, whose courage, is to be named in a day with that charming man's, Mr. Rovewell?

Bel. How insipidly the fool talks! If a fellow without a nose should bribe thee as much as Rovewell has done, you would say as much in his behalf. Why should we make such unfaithful creatures as our chambermaids are our confidants!

Ad, Why, madam, there's no posts without perquisites; since you ladies have found out the way of trucking your old clothes for china (which was our due time out of mind), I hope you'll pardon us for trucking your hearts away for a much brittler ware.

Bel. Ay, Advocate, I should like that brittle ware, a husband, well enough, if one could but break him, or give him away, as one does china.

Ad. Oh, madam, 'tis easy to break his heart; and if you don't do it effectually whene'er you marry, I'll be content to die a chambermaid. But see, madam, the Fair Quaker is come to visit you.

Enter DORCAS.

Dor. Friend Belinda, I am come resolved to chat away the evening with thee.

Bel. My pretty saint, thou'rt welcome. I need not ask you how Worthy does, I see it in your eyes; the demure aspect is vanished, and you begin to look like one of us.

Dor. Why, I am flesh and blood as well as thou

art;

and did not my spirit get the better of my clay, I should be as vain as thou art.

Bel. Come, leave canting, and tell me where is my Arabella ?

Dor. Why, I left her at home not well; but may be she may see us anon.-Know, friend Belinda, that I have at last got faith enough to put my trust in man: Worthy and I have plighted troths.

Bel. Why then the flesh has got the better of the spirit.

Dor. If thou wouldst prove a friend indeed, thou must give thyself over unto Rovewell.

Bel. So, because you have done a foolish thing, I must keep you in countenance; no truly, I'll be confined to none of your fellows.

Dor. Come, dissemble not; you know the man is assuredly thy own.

Bel. Why, is it not better to say the fellow's mine, than I his ?

Dor. For thee it may be better; but what thinkest thou the world will say?

Bel. Why, not worse of me than I say of the world. But to keep thee no longer in suspense, I won't make a vow of chastity, nor will I forswear having the fellow Rovewell: I don't know but one time or another, when I am in a very maggotty humour, I may marry the creature. Come into my closet, and I'll tell thee more of my mind. [Exeunt. Ad. It is impossible to tell, whether this mistress of

1

1

mine will ever have Rovewell or not; but since he pays me well, I'll tease and wheedle in his behalf; and if he gets her, I hope he'll make her a modern husband. Well, if I could get a lover upon the first popping of the question, to fly into his arms, and so good-night maidenhead. It shews a wonderful folly in mankind to whine and snivel after these coy peevish things. Bless me! if they knew the way into a lady's heart so well as I do, there would be no sighing and ogling, no presents or serenading, no dying at a lady's feet: let them take the shortest way with the dissenters, and the business is done. [The bell rings.] Coming, coming.

Enter JENNY PRIVATE and a Sailor.

[Exit.

Jen. So, I think I am equipt like one of the righteous; I am overjoyed at the intrigue, and shall be pleased to see myself a real captain's lady; I am sure I have been a sham one to many of them. Let me see, my letter is penn'd in a true canting form: my name is Dorcas Zeal, and my fortune ten thousand pounds. Well, if I do not act the babe of grace, the formal quaking saint, with as much outside sanctity as a new-entered nun, or an old mother abbess, I'll be content to truss up like James Nailor. Here, sailor, carry this to Captain Mizen; then follow Captain Worthy's orders.

Sail. Ay, friend, I'll hand it to him, and then look out sharp.

[Exit.