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<div class = "act">ACT the Fifth.</div> <div class = "scenedesc">Enter Miranda, Patch, and Scentwell.</div> Miran. WELL, Patch, I have done a strange bold thing! my Fate is determin'd, and Expectation is no more. Now to avoid the Impertinence and Roguery of an old Man, I have thrown my self into the Extravagance of a young one; if he shou'd despise, slight or use me ill, there's no Remedy from a Husband, but the Grave; and that's a terrible Sanctuary to one of my Age and Constitution. Patch. O fear not, Madam, you'll find your account in Sir George Airy; it is impossible a Man of Sense shou'd use a Woman ill, indued with Beauty, Wit and Fortune. It must be the Lady's fault, if she does not wear the unfashionable Name of Wife easie, when nothing but Complaisance and good Humour is requisite on either side to make them happy. Miran. I long till I am out of this House, lest any Accident shou'd bring my Guardian back. Scentwell, put my best Jewels into the little Casket, slip them, into thy Pocket, and let us march off to Sir. Jealous's. Scentw. It shall be done, Madam. <div class = "stagedir">(Exit Scentwell.</div> 59 I2 Patch. Sir George will be impatient, Madam; if their Plot succeeds, we shall be well receiv'd; if not, he will be able to protect us. Besides, I long to know how my young Lady fares. Miran. Farewell, old Mammon, and thy detested Walls; 'twill be no more sweet Sir Francis, I shall be compell'd to the odious Task of Dissembling no longer to get my own, and coax him with the wheedling Names of my Precious, my Dear, dear Gardee. Oh Heavens! <div class = "entrance">Enter Sir Francis behind.</div> Sir Fran. Ah, my sweet Chargee, don't be frighted. (She starts.) But thy poor Gardee has been abused, cheated, fool'd, betray'd, but no Body knows by whom. Miran. (Aside.) Undone! past Redemption. Sir Fran. What won't you speak to me, Chargee! Miran. I'm so surpriz'd with Joy to see you, I know not what to say. Sir Fran. Poor, dear Girl! But do'e know that my Son, or some such Rogue, to rob or murder me, or both, contriv'd this Journey? For upon the Road I met my Neighbour Squeezum well, and coming to Town. Miran. Good lack, good lack! what Tricks are there in this World! <div class = "entrance">Enter Scentwell, with a Diamond Necklace in her Hand; not seeing Sir Francis.</div> Scentw. Madam, be pleas'd to tye this Neck-lace on; for I can't get it into the— <div class = "stagedir">(Seeing Sir Francis.</div> Miran. The Wench is a Fool, I think! cou'd you not have carry'd it to be mended, without putting it in the Box? Sir Fran. What's the matter? Miran. Only Dear'e, I bid her, I bid her— Your ill Usage has put every thing out of my Head. But won't you go, Gardee, and find out these Fellows, and have them punish'd! and, and— Sir Fran. Where shou'd I look them, Child? No I'll sit me down contented with my Safety, nor stir out of my own Doors, till I go with thee to a Parson. 60 Miran. (Aside.) If he goes into his Closet I am ruin'd. Oh! bless me in this Fright, I had forgot Mrs. Patch. Patch. Ay, Madam, and I stay for your speedy Answer. Miran. (Aside.) I must get him out of the House. Now assist me Fortune. Sir Fran. Mrs. Patch, I profess I did not see you, how dost thou do, Mrs. Patch; well don't you repent leaving my Chargee? Patch. Yes, every body must love her—but I came now— Madam, what did I come for, my Invention is at the last Ebb. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside to Miranda.</div> Sir Fran. Nay, never Whisper, tell me. Miran. She came, dear Gardee to invite me to her Lady's Wedding, and you shall go with me Gardee, 'tis to be done this Moment to a Spanish Merchant; Old Sir Jealous keeps on his Humour, the first Minute he sees her, the next he marries her. Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha, I'd go if I thought the sight of Matrimony wou'd tempt Chargee to perform her Promise: There was a smile, there was a consenting Look with those pretty Twinklers, worth a Million. Ods precious, I am happier than the Great Mogul, the Emperour of China, or all the Potentates that are not in Wars. Speak, confirm it, make me leap out of my Skin. Miran. When one has resolv'd, 'tis in vain to stand shall I, shall I, if ever I marry, positively this is my Wedding Day. Sir Fran. Oh! happy, happy Man— Verily I will beget a Son, the first Night shall disinherit that Dog, Charles. I have Estate enough to purchase a Barony, and be the immortalizing the whole Family of the Gripes. Miran. Come then Gardee, give me thy Hand, let's to this House of Hymen. <div class = "verse"> My Choice is fix'd, let good or ill betide,</div> Sir Fran. <div class = "verse"> The joyful Bridegroom, I</div> Miran. <div class = "verse"> And I the happy Bride.</div> <div class = "stagedir">(Exeunt.</div> 61 <div class = "entrance">Enter Sir Jealous meeting a Servant.</div> Serv. Sir, here's a couple of Gentlemen enquire for you; one of 'em calls himself Seignor Diego Babinetto. Sir Jeal. Ha! Seignor Babinetto! Admit 'em instantly— Joyful Minute; I'll have my Daughter marry'd to Night. <div class = "entrance">Enter Charles in Spanish Habit, with Sir George drest like a Merchant.</div> Sir Jeal. Senior, beso Las Manos vuestra merced es muy bien venido en esta tierra. Char. Senhor, soy muy humilde, y muy obligado Cryado de vuestra merced: Mi Padre Embia a vuestra merced, los mas profondos de sus respetos; y a Commissionado este Mercadel Ingles, de concluyr un negocio, que me Haze el mas dichoso hombre del mundo, Haziendo me su yerno. Sir Jeal. I am glad on't, for I find I have lost much of my Spanish. Sir, I am your most humble Servant. Seignor Don Diego Babinetto has inform'd me that you are Commission'd by Seignor Don Pedro, &c. his worthy Father. Sir Geo. To see an Affair of Marriage Consummated between a Daughter of yours, and Seignor Diego Babinetto his Son here. True, Sir, such a Trust is repos'd in me as that Letter will inform you. I hope 'twill pass upon him. (Aside.) <div class = "stagedir">(Gives him a Letter.</div> Sir Jeal. Ay, 'tis his Hand. <div class = "stagedir">(Seems to read.</div> Sir Geo. Good —— you have counterfeited to a Nicety, Charles. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside to Charles.</div> Char. If the whole Plot succeeds as well, I'm happy. Sir Jeal. Sir I find by this, that you are a Man of Honour and Probity; I think, Sir, he calls you Meanwell. Sir Geo. Meanwell is my Name, Sir. Sir Jeal. A very good Name, and very Significant. Char. Yes, Faith if he knew all. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. For to Mean-well is to be honest, and to be honest is the Virtue of a Friend, and a Friend is the Delight and Support of Human Society. Sir Geo. You shall find that I'll Discharge the part of a Friend in what I have undertaken, Sir Jealous. 62 Char. But little does he think to whom. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Geo. Therefore, Sir, I must intreat the Presence of your fair Daughter, and the Assistance of your Chaplain; for Seignor Don Pedro strictly enjoyn'd me to see the Marriage Rites perform'd as soon as we should arrive, to avoid the Accidental Overtures of Venus. Sir Jeal. Overtures of Venus! Sir Geo. Ay, Sir, that is, those little Hawking Females that traverse the Park, and the Play-house to put off their damag'd Ware—they fasten upon Foreigners like Leeches, and watch their Arrival as carefully, as the Kentish Men do a Ship-wreck. I warrant you they have heard of him already. Sir Jeal. Nay, I know this Town swarms with them. Sir Geo. Ay, and then you know the Spaniards are naturally Amorous, but very Constant, the first Face fixes 'em, and it may be dangerous to let him ramble e'er he is tied. Char. Well hinted. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. Pat to my Purpose— Well, Sir, there is but one thing more, and they shall be married instantly. Char. Pray Heaven, that one thing more don't spoil all. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. Don Pedro writ me Word in his last but one, that he design'd the Sum of Five Thousand Crowns by way of Joynture for my Daughter; and that it shou'd be paid into my Hand upon the Day of Marriage. Char. Oh! the Devil. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. In order to lodge it in some of our Funds, in case she should become a Widow, and return for England. Sir Geo. Pox on't, this is an unlucky Turn. What shall I say? <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. And he does not mention one Word of it in this Letter. Char. I don't know how he should. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Geo. Humph! True, Sir Jealous, he told me such a Thing, but, but, but, but—he, he, he, he—he did not imagine that you would insist upon the very Day, for, for, for, for Money you know is dangerous returning by Sea, an, an, an, an— 63 Char. Zounds, say we have brought it in Commodities. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside to Sir George.</div> Sir Geo. And so Sir, he has sent it in Merchandize, Tobacco, Sugars, Spices, Limons, and so forth, which shall be turn'd into Money with all Expedition: In the mean time, Sir, if you please to accept of my Bond for Performance. Sir Jeal. It is enough, Sir, I am so pleas'd with the Countenance of Seignor Diego, and the Harmony of your Name, that I'll take your Word, and will fetch my Daughter this Moment. Within there (Enter Servant) desire Mr. Tackum my Neighbour's Chaplain to walk hither. Serv. Yes, Sir. <div class = "stagedir">(Exit.</div> Sir Jeal. Gentlemen, I'll return in an Instant. <div class = "stagedir">(Exit.</div> Char. Wondrous well. Let me embrace thee. Sir Geo. Egad that 5000 l. had like to have ruin'd the Plot. Char. But that's over! And if Fortune throws no more Rubs in our way. Sir Geo. Thou'lt carry the Prize—but hist, here he comes. <div class = "entrance">Enter Sir Jealous, dragging in Isabinda.</div> Sir Jeal. Come along, you stubborn Baggage you, come along. Isab. <div class = "verse"> Oh hear me, Sir! hear me but speak one Word, Do not destroy my everlasting Peace; My Soul abhors this Spaniard you have chose Nor can I wed him without being curst.</div> Sir Jeal. How's that! Isab. <div class = "verse"> Let this Posture move your tender Nature. (Kneels. For ever will I hang upon these Knees; Nor loose my Hands till you cut off my hold, If you refuse to hear me, Sir.</div> Char. Oh! that I cou'd discover my self to her. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Geo. Have a care what you do. You had better trust to his Obstinacy. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. Did you ever see such a perverse Slut: Off I say Mr. Meanwell pray help me a little. 64 Sir Geo. Rise, Madam, and do not disoblige your Father, who has provided a Husband worthy of you, one that will Love you equal with his Soul, and one that you will Love, when once you know him. Isab. Oh! never, never. Cou'd I suspect that Falshood in my Heart, I wou'd this Moment tear it from my Breast, and streight present him with the Treacherous Part. Char. Oh! my charming faithful Dear. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Jeal. Falshood! why, who the Devil are you in Love with? Ha! Don't provoke me, for by St. Jago I shall beat you, Housewife. Char. Heaven forbid; for I shall infallibly discover my self if he should. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Geo. Have Patience, Madam! and look at him: Why will you prepossess your self against a Man that is Master of all the Charms you would desire in a Husband? Sir Jeal. Ay, look at him, Isabinda, Senior pase vind adelante. Char. My Heart bleeds to see her grieve, whom I imagin'd would with Joy receive me. Seniora obligue me vuestra merced de sumano. Sir Jeal. (Pulling up her Head.) Hold up your Head, hold up your Head, Housewife, and look at him: Is there a properer, handsomer, better shap'd Fellow in England, ye Jade you. Ha! see, see the obstinate Baggage shuts her Eyes; by St. Jago, I have a good Mind to beat 'em out. <div class = "stagedir">(Pushes her down.</div> Isab. <div class = "verse"> Do then, Sir, kill me, kill me instantly. 'Tis much the kinder Action of the Two, For 'twill be worse than Death to wed him.</div> Sir Geo. Sir Jealous, you are too passionate. Give me leave, I'll try by gentle Words to work her to your Purpose. Sir Jeal. I pray do, Mr. Meanwell, I pray do; she'll break my Heart. (weeps) There is in that, Jewels of the Value of 3000 l. which were her Mother's; and a Paper wherein I have settled one half of my Estate upon her now, and the whole when I dye. But provided she marries this Gentleman, else by St. Jago, I'll turn her out of Doors to beg or starve. Tell her this, Mr. Meanwell, pray do. <div class = "stagedir">(Walks off.</div> 65 K Sir Geo. Ha! this is beyond Expectation— Trust to me, Sir, I'll lay the dangerous Consequence of disobeying you at this Juncture before her, I warrant you. Char. A sudden Joy runs thro' my Heart like a propitious Omen. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Geo. Come, Madam, do not blindly cast your Life away just in the Moment you would wish to have it. Isab. Pray cease your Trouble, Sir, I have no Wish but sudden Death to free me from this hated Spaniard. If you are his Friend inform him what I say; my Heart is given to another Youth, whom I love with the same strength of Passion that I hate this Diego; with whom, if I am forc'd to wed, my own Hand shall cut the Gordian Knot. Sir Geo. Suppose this Spaniard which you strive to shun should be the very Man to whom you'd flye? Isab. Ha! Sir Geo. Would you not blame your rash Result, and curse those Eyes that would not look on Charles. Isab. On Charles! Oh you have inspir'd new Life, and collected every wandring Sense. Where is he? Oh! let me flye into his Arms. <div class = "stagedir">(Rises.</div> Sir Geo. Hold, hold, hold, 'Zdeath, Madam, you'll ruin all, your Father believes him to be Seignor Barbinetto. Compose your self a little, pray Madam. <div class = "stagedir">(He runs to Sir Jealous.</div> Char. Her Eyes declare she knows me. <div class = "stagedir">(Aside.</div> Sir Geo. She begins to hear Reason, Sir, the fear of being turn'd out of Doors has done it. <div class = "stagedir">(Runs back to Isabinda.</div> Isab. 'Tis he, oh! my ravish'd Soul. Sir Geo. Take heed, Madam, you don't betray your self. Seem with Reluctance to consent, or you are undone, (runs to Sir Jealous,) speak gently to her, Sir, I'm sure she'll yield, I see it in her Face. Sir Jeal. Well, Isabinda, can you refuse to bless a Father, whose only Care is to make you happy, as Mr. Meanwell has inform'd you. Come, wipe thy Eyes; nay, prithee do, or thou wilt break thy Father's Heart; see thou bring'st the 66 Tears in mine to think of thy undutiful Carriage to me. <div class = "stagedir">(Weeps.</div> Isab. Oh! do not weep, Sir, your Tears are like a Ponyard to my Soul; do with me what you please, I am all Obedience. Sir Jeal. Ha! then thou art my Child agen. Sir Geo. 'Tis done, and now Friend the Day's thy own. Char. The happiest of my Life, if nothing Intervene. Sir Jeal. And wilt thou love him? Isab. I will endeavour it, Sir. <div class = "entrance">Enter Servant.</div> Serv. Sir, Here is Mr. Tackum. Sir Jeal. Show him into the Parlour—Senior tome vind sueipora; cete Momenta les Junta les Manos. <div class = "stagedir">(Gives her to Charles.</div> Char. Oh! transport—Senior yo la recibo Como se deve un Tesoro tan Grande. Oh! my Joy, my Life, my Soul. <div class = "stagedir">(Embrace.</div> Isab. My Faithful everlasting Comfort. Sir Jeal. Now, Mr. Meanwell let's to the Parson, <div class = "verse"> Who, by his Art will join this Pair for Life, Make me the happiest Father, her the happiest Wife.</div> <div class = "stagedir">(Exit.</div> <div class = "sceneplain">SCENE Changes to the Street before Sir Jealous's Door.</div> <div class = "scenedesc">Enter Marplot, Solus.</div> Marpl. I have hunted all over the Town for Charles, but can't find him; and by Whisper's scouting at the End of the Street, I suspect he must be in this House again. I'm inform'd too that he has borrow'd a Spanish Habit out of the Play-house. What can it mean? 67 K2 <div class = "entrance">Enter a Servant of Sir Jealous's to him, out of the House.</div> Hark'e, Sir, do you belong to this House? Serv. Yes, Sir. Marpl. Pray can you tell if there be a Gentleman in it in Spanish Habit? Serv. There is a Spanish Gentleman within, that is just a going to marry my young Lady, Sir. Marpl. Are you sure he is a Spanish Gentleman? Serv. I'm sure he speaks no English, that I hear of. Marpl. Then that can't be him I want; for 'tis an English Gentleman, tho' I suppose he may be dress'd like a Spaniard, that I enquire after. Serv. Ha! who knows but this may be an Impostor? I'll inform my Master; for if he shou'd be impos'd upon, he'll beat us all round. (Aside.) Pray, come in, Sir, and see if this be the Person you enquire for. <div class = "sceneplain">SCENE Changes to <ins class = "correction" title = "so in original">the Inside the House</ins>.</div> <div class = "scenedesc">Enter Marplot.</div> Marpl. So, this was a good Contrivance: If this be Charles, now will he wonder how I found him out. <div class = "entrance">Enter Servant and Jealous.</div> Sir Jeal. What is your earnest Business, Blockhead, that you must speak with me before the Ceremony's past? Ha! who's this? Serv. Why this Gentleman, Sir, wants another Gentleman in Spanish Habit, he says. Sir Jeal. In Spanish Habit! 'tis some Friend of Seignior Don Diego's, I warrant. Sir, I suppose you wou'd speak with Seignior Barbinetto— Marpl. Hy-day! what the Devil does he say now!— Sir, I don't understand you. 68 Sir Jeal. Don't you understand Spanish, Sir? Marpl. Not I indeed, Sir. Sir Jeal. I thought you had known Seignior Barbinetto. Marpl. Not I, upon my word, Sir. Sir Jeal. What then you'd speak with his Friend, the English Merchant, Mr. Meanwell. Marpl. Neither, Sir; not I. Sir Jeal. Why who are you then, Sir? and what do you want? <div class = "stagedir">(In an angry Tone.</div> Marpl. Nay, nothing at all, not I, Sir. Pox on him! I wish I were out, he begins to exalt his Voice, I shall be beaten agen. Sir Jeal. Nothing at all, Sir! Why then what Business have you in my House? ha? Serv. You said you wanted a Gentleman in Spanish Habit. Marpl. Why ay, but his Name is neither Barbinetto nor Meanwell. Sir Jeal. What is his Name then, Sirrah, ha? Now I look at you agen, I believe you are the Rogue threaten'd me with half a Dozen Mirmidons— Speak, Sir, who is it you look for? or, or— Marpl. A terrible old Dog!— Why, Sir, only an honest young Fellow of my Acquaintance— I thought that here might be a Ball, and that he might have been here in a Masquerade; 'tis Charles, Sir Francis Gripe's Son, because I know he us'd to come hither sometimes. Sir Jeal. Did he so?— Not that I know of, I'm sure. Pray Heaven that this be Don Diego— If I shou'd be trick'd now— Ha! my Heart misgives me plaguily—within there! stop the Marriage— Run, Sirrah, call all my Servants! I'll be satisfy'd that this is Seignior Pedro's Son e're he has my Daughter. Marpl. Ha, Sir George, what have I done now ? <div class = "entrance">Enter Sir George with a drawn Sword between the Scenes.</div> Sir Geo. Ha! Marplot, here— Oh the unlucky Dog—what's the matter, Sir Jealous? 69 Sir Jeal. Nay, I don't know the matter, Mr.Meanwell. Marpl. Upon my Soul, Sir George— <div class = "stagedir">(Going up to Sir Geo.</div> Sir Jeal. Nay then, I'm betray'd, ruin'd, undone: Thieves, Traytors, Rogues! (Offers to go in.) Stop the Marriage, I say— Sir Geo. I say, go on Mr.Tackum— Nay, no Ent'ring here, I guard this Passage, old Gentleman; the Act and Deed were both your own, and I'll see 'em sign'd, or die for't. <div class = "entrance">Enter Servants.</div> Sir Jeal. A pox on the Act and Deed!— Fall on, knock him down. Sir Geo. Ay, come on, Scoundrils! I'll prick your Jackets for you. Sir Jeal. Z'ounds, Sirrah, I'll be Reveng'd on you. <div class = "stagedir">(Beats Marplot.</div> Sir Geo. Ay, there your Vengeance is due; Ha, ha. Marpl. Why, what do you beat me for? I ha'nt marry'd your Daughter. Sir Jeal. Rascals! why don't you knock him down? Serv. We are afraid of his Sword, Sir; if you'll take that from him, we'll knock him down presently. <div class = "entrance">Enter Charles and Isabinda.</div> Sir Jeal. Seize her then. Char. Rascals, retire; she's my Wife, touch her if you dare, I'll make Dogs meat of you. Sir Jeal. Ah! downright English:— Oh, oh, oh, oh! <div class = "entrance">Enter Sir Francis Gripe, <ins class = "correction" title = "so in original">Mirand</ins>, Patch, Scentwell, and Whisper.</div> Sir Fran. Into the House of Joy we Enter without knocking: Ha! I think 'tis the House of Sorrow, Sir Jealous. Sir Jeal. Oh Sir Francis! are you come? What was this your Contrivance, to abuse, trick, and chouse me of my Child! Sir Fran. My Contrivance! what do you mean? Sir Jeal. No, you don't know your Son there in Spanish Habit. 70 Sir Fran. How! my Son in Spanish Habit. Sirrah, you'll come to be hang'd; get out of my sight, ye Dog! get out of my sight. Sir Jeal. Get out of your sight, Sir! Get out with your Bags; let's see what you'll give him now to maintain my Daughter on. Sir Fran. Give him! He shall be never the better for a Penny of mine—and you might have look'd after your Daughter better, Sir Jealous. Trick'd, quotha! Egad, I think you design'd to trick me: But look ye, Gentlemen, I believe I shall trick you both. This Lady is my Wife, do you see? And my Estate shall descend only to the Heirs of her Body. Sir Geo. Lawfully begotten by me— I shall be extremely oblig'd to you, Sir Francis. Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha, ha, poor Sir George! You see your Project was of no use. Does not your Hundred Pound stick in your Stomach? Ha, ha, ha. Sir Geo. No faith, Sir Francis, this Lady has given me a Cordial for that. <div class = "stagedir">(Takes her by the Hand.</div> Sir Fran. Hold, Sir, you have nothing to say to this Lady. Sir Geo. Nor you nothing to do with my Wife, Sir. Sir Fran. Wife, Sir! Miran. Ay really, Guardian, 'tis even so. I hope you'll forgive my first Offence. Sir Fran. What have you chous'd me out of my Consent, and your Writings then, Mistress, ha? Miran. Out of nothing but my own, Guardian. Sir Jeal. Ha, ha, ha, 'tis some Comfort at least to see you are over-reach'd as well as my self. Will you settle your Estate upon your Son now? Sir Fran. He shall starve first. Miran. That I have taken care to prevent. There, Sir, is the Writings of your Uncle's Estate, which has been your due these three Years. <div class = "stagedir">(Gives Char. Papers.</div> Char. I shall study to deserve this Favour. Sir Fran. What have you robb'd me too, Mistress! Egad I'll make you restore 'em.— Huswife, I will so. 71 Sir Jeal. Take care I don't make you pay the Arrears, Sir. 'Tis well it's no worse, since 'tis no better. Come, young Man, seeing thou hast out-witted me, take her, and Bless you both. Char. I hope, Sir, you'll bestow your Blessing too, 'tis all I'll ask. <div class = "stagedir">(Kneels.</div> Sir Fran. Confound you all! <div class = "stagedir">(Exit.</div> Marpl. Mercy upon us! how he looks! Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ne'er mind his Curses, Charles; thou'lt thrive not one jot the worse for 'em. Since this Gentleman is reconcil'd, we are all made happy. Sir Jeal. I always lov'd Precaution, and took care to avoid Dangers. But when a thing was past, I ever had Philosophy to be easie. Char. Which is the true sign of a great Soul: I lov'd your Daughter, and she me, and you shall have no reason to repent her Choice. Isab. You will not blame me, Sir, for loving my own Country best. Marpl. So here's every Body happy, I find, but poor Pilgarlick. I wonder what Satisfaction I shall have, for being cuff'd, kick'd, and beaten in your Service. Sir Jeal. I have been a little too familiar with you, as things are fallen out; but since there's no help for't, you must forgive me. Marpl. Egad I think so— But provided that you be not so familiar for the future. Sir Geo. Thou hast been an unlucky Rogue. Marpl. But very honest. Char. That I'll vouch for; and freely forgive thee. Sir Geo. And I'll do you one piece of Service more, Marplot, I'll take care that Sir Francis make you Master of your Estate. Marpl. That will make me as happy as any of you. Patch. Your humble Servant begs leave to remind you, Madam. Isab. Sir, I hope you'll give me leave to take Patch into favour again. 72 Sir Jeal. Nay, let your Husband look to that, I have done with my Care. Char. Her own Liberty shall always oblige me. Here's no Body but honest Whisper and Mrs. Scentwell to be provided for now. It shall be left to their Choice to Marry, or keep their Services. Whisp. Nay then, I'll stick to my Master. Scentw. Coxcomb! and I prefer my Lady before a Footman. Sir Jeal. Hark, I hear Musick, the Fidlers smell a Wedding. What say you, young Fellows, will ye have a Dance? Sir Geo. <ins class = "correction" title = "text reads 'with'">With</ins> all my Heart; call'em in. <div class = "sceneplain">A DANCE.</div> Sir Jeal. Now let us in and refresh our selves with a chearful Glass, in which we'll bury all Animosities: And <div class = "verse"> By my Example let all Parents move, And never strive to cross their Childrens Love; But still submit that Care to Providence above.</div> <div class = "sceneplain">FINIS</div> <hr> <h4>The Editors of THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY</h4> are pleased to announce that THE WILLIAM ANDREWS CLARK MEMORIAL LIBRARY of The University of California, Los Angeles will become the publisher of the Augustan Reprints in May, 1949. The editorial policy of the Society will continue unchanged. As in the past, the editors will strive to furnish members inexpensive reprints of rare seventeenth and eighteenth century works.  <div class = "mynote"> Transcriber's Note: Many of the listed titles are or will be available from Project Gutenberg. Where possible, a link to the e-text is given.</div> Publications for the fourth year (1949-1950) <table align = "center" summary = "list of planned publications"> <tr> <td colspan = "2"> (At least six items will be printed in the main from the following list) </td> </tr> <tr> <td width = "50%">Series IV: Men, Manners, and Critics   John Dryden, His Majesties Declaration Defended (1681)   Daniel Defoe (?), Vindication of the Press (1718)   Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa, and Pamela (1754) </td> <td>Series VI: Poetry and Language   Andre Dacier, Essay on Lyric Poetry   Poems by Thomas Sprat   Poems by the Earl of Dorset   Samuel Johnson, Vanity of Human Wishes (1749), and one of the 1750 Rambler papers. </td> </tr> <tr> <td>Series V: Drama   Thomas Southerne, Oroonoko (1696)   Mrs. Centlivre, The Busie Body (1709)   Charles Johnson, Caelia (1733)   Charles Macklin, Man of the World (1781) </td> <td>Extra Series:   Lewis Theobald, <ins class = "correction" title = "correct form is 'Preface to Shakespeare'">Preface to Shakespeare's Works</ins> (1733) A few copies of the early publications of the Society are still available at the original rate. </td> </tr> </table> <hr> <table align = "center" summary = "names of general editors"> <tr> <td colspan = "2"> GENERAL EDITORS </td> </tr> <tr> <td width = "50%"> H. Richard Archer, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library Richard C. Boys, University of Michigan </td> <td> Edward Niles Hooker, University of California, Los Angeles H. T. Swedenberg, Jr., University of California, Los Angeles </td> </tr> </table> <table class = "order" summary = "order blank"> <tr> <td class = "order" colspan = "3"> </td> </tr> <tr> <td class = "order"> To The Augustan Reprint Society </td> <td class = "years">The fourth year</td> <td class = "price">$2.50</td> </tr> <tr> <td class = "order"> William Andrews Clark Memorial Library</td> <td class = "years">The third and fourth year</td> <td class = "price">$5.00</td> </tr> <tr> <td class = "order"> 2205 West Adams Blvd., Los Angeles 7, California</td> <td class = "years">The second, third and fourth year</td> <td class = "price">$7.50</td> </tr> <tr> <td class = "order"> As membership fee I enclose for:</td> <td class = "years">The first, second, third, and fourth year</td> <td class = "price">$10.00</td> </tr> <tr> <td class = "order"> Name</td> <td class = "years" colspan = "2">[Add $.25 for each year if ordering from Great Britain or the continent]</td> </tr> <tr> <td class = "order" colspan = "3"> Address</td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan = "3"> Make check or money order payable to The Regents of the University of California. Note: All income of the Society is devoted to defraying cost of printing and mailing. </td> </tr> </table> <div class = "typehead">PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY</div> <div class = "publist"> First Year (1946-1947)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 1. Richard Blackmore's Essay upon Wit (1716), and Addison's Freeholder No. 45 (1716). (I, 1)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 2. Samuel Cobb's Of Poetry and Discourse on Criticism (1707). (II, 1)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 3. Letter to A.H. Esq.; concerning the Stage (1698), and Richard Willis' Occasional Paper No. IX (1698). (III, 1)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 4. Essay on Wit (1748), together with Characters by Flecknoe, and Joseph Warton's Adventurer Nos. 127 and 133. (I, 2)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 5. Samuel Wesley's Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry (1700) and Essay on Heroic Poetry (1693). (II, 2)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 6. Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage (1704) and Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage (1704). (III, 2)</div> <div class = "publist"> Second Year (1947-1948)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 7. John Gay's The Present State of Wit (1711); and a section on Wit from The English Theophrastus (1702). (I, 3)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 8. Rapin's De Carmine Pastorali, translated by Creech (1684). (II, 3)</div> <div class = "publist1"> 9. T. Hanmer's (?) Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet (1736). (III, 3)</div> <div class = "publist"> 10. Corbyn Morris' Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc. (1744). (I, 4)</div> <div class = "publist"> 11. Thomas Purney's Discourse on the Pastoral (1717). (II, 4)</div> <div class = "publist"> 12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood Krutch. (III, 4)</div> <div class = "publist"> Third Year (1948-1949)</div> <div class = "publist"> 13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), The Theatre (1720). (IV, 1)</div> <div class = "publist"> 14. Edward Moore's The Gamester (1753). (V, 1)</div> <div class = "publist"> 15. John Oldmixon's Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley (1712); and Arthur Mainwaring's The British Academy (1712). (VI, 1)</div> <div class = "publist"> 16. <ins class = "correction" title = "in preparation">Nevil Payne's Fatal Jealousy</ins> (1673). (V, 2)</div> <div class = "publist"> 17. Nicholas Rowe's Some Account of the Life of Mr. William Shakespear (1709). (Extra Series, 1)</div> <div class = "publist"> 18. Aaron Hill's Preface to The Creation; and Thomas Brereton's Preface to Esther. (IV, 2)</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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