Wor. Why, yes, purser, I own you may plead custom for the abundance of villanies committed in the navy; but we have now got men of honour at the helm, who will not suffer rogues to go unpunished.

Crib. It has been the method to let a stinking butt of beer stand six days a-broach; and when complaint has been made, the captain (who should do the sailors justice) punishes the complaining rascal for mutiny.

Plea. It has been the method for cooks, with pitchforks sharp, to squeeze the fat from out the meat, for fear the grease should rise in poor Jack Sailors' stomachs.

Easy. It has been the method to waste a pound to ounces ten which makes the bread, the butter, and the cheese, a poor allowance for those hard-working

men.

Rove. In short, what with chest-money, hospitals, slops, two-pences, groats, and mulcts, they are mere galley-slaves.

Plea. The captain uses them like dogs, which forces them to run away; the chequering clerk puts on the R. and then the purser loads their pay with slops they never had, and so cheats the queen and subjects

too.

Ind. Why, you may rail at these proceedings; but when you stand the captain and the purser too, you'll often wish to be indenting; half money, and half stores, have tempted most of you.

Wor. Come, no more; since we have discovered you, I hope you'll let us pay our clubs.

Ind. No, faith, gentlemen, I'll treat you for all this. You mighty pretenders to honour are not much unlike whores, who rail at that which they most com monly practise.

Rove. Come, Worthy, we must away. Sir Charles, your company is desired too; we must spend this evening at Belinda's. But stay, Cribbidge, I must have one private whisper with thee by the way. Re venge is the word, and I must engage thee in the plot.

Crib. Ay, most willingly, in such a cause.

Rove. If we succeed in this farce, it will be a most noble revenge.

For brutes and fools were only made for sport;
Nothing is like a coxcomb to divert:

They cure the spleen, and make the toils of life
An easy burthen, and a pleasing strife.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter JENNY PRIVATE.

Jenny.

SURE the sailor has mistook, and given my letter to a wrong person. My heart goes pit-a-pat, for fear I should not succeed. But see, he comes!

Enter MIZEN.

Miz. So, that must be my Quaker, by her sanctified air-Madam, madam

E

Jen. Would you ought with me, friend?

Miz. Only to desire the favour of you to give me leave to throw myself at your feet. My name is Mizen; I came hither by appointment from your fair hands-She is very beautiful! board meelse. [Aside.

Jen. If thy sincerity is answerable to the character my friend has given me of thee, I am content, according to his desire, to be thy help-mate.

Miz. Well, old Scruple is a prevailing rogue, and deserves the fifty guineas, pos. [Aside.] Oh, my charmer! I have been long sighing and wishing for this opportunity, and hope you'll now give me leave to make the best of my time.

Jen. Will you change your vain religion then? Will you stand fast to the faith? In perseverance, will you come over to the congregation of the uptight? Will you put off these gaudy clothes, those vanity of vanities?

Miz. Yea, verily, I will put off my gaudiness; I will strip myself to the nakedness of the spirit.

Jen. Why, then thou hast overcome me; and verily I will be thine in a few months.

Miz. Oh, thou lovely lamb, set not so terrible a time! the spirit moveth me to make thee flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone, before the sun shineth again.

Jen. I have some fears upon me, that thy eagerness to my person, may proceed from a desire thou hast to my money.

Miz. Why, I say thy fears are uncharitable; for

hadst thou nothing, nor that neither, my zeal would be as much for thee as it is now.

is

4

Jen. Then I am satisfied; and, accordingly, here

Miz. Why, I am transported to the highest ecstasies! Look ye, my boat waiteth on the beach for me; if thy yearnings are great as mine are to thee, thou wilt venture thyself upon the deep along with I have on board my ship a man called a chaplain, which, according to our establishment, will link us together-Turn me keel upwards, if ever I carried on an intrigue better in my life. [Aside.

me.

Jen. Well, thou art a powerful man, and I submit myself unto thee; but can help thee to one of thy priests on shore-Admirably well managed! [Aside. Miz. Come, my spirit, my light, my light of my light, and—humph-Let us go then.

[Exeunt, hugging her.

Enter ROVEWELL, WORTHY, and Sir CHARLES PLEASANT.

Wor. So, off goes the boat, and there's a punk provided for.

Plea. Merry be his heart. This will put such a damp upon his undertakings, that we shall be troubled

no more with his nonsensical whimsies about reforming the navy.

Rove. I wish all our friends were as well provided for as Jenny.

Wor. Why, faith, so do I; for when I enter the sa

cred bonds, I'll give a receipt in full to lewdness, shake hands with vice, and bid adieu to immorality. Rove, And I am resolved to make the best of husbands.

Plea. These are pious designs truly. I begin myself to be out of conceit with wickedness; and could I but succeed in my amour with Arabella, I should willingly bid adieu to all the frail part of mortality. But she has used me so unmercifully, that I quite despair of success.

Wor. Pr'ythee, Sir Charles, matters are not gone so far as to throw thee into desperation.

Sir

Rove. Let me alone to make up the match. Charles, 'tis a pretty play-thing in time of peace, which, if some care is not taken, these victorious generals of ours will bring it to; and a sea-lieutenant, with only half a crown a day, will never agree with your quality.

Plea. I am wholly at your devotion.

Rove. Come on, then; let us to Belinda's, where we shall see her.

Wor. I fear her late disappointment will hinder her from appearing abroad this evening. 'Tis only Belinda has interest enough to bring her. [Exeunt.

Enter CRIBBIDGE, EASY, and JILTUP.

Filt. My dear puppies, if you make me a captain's lady, my husband shall hang himself, that there may be a vacancy for one of you.

Crib, Why, you must make use of all your cunning