Chapter 1

_The Curtain draws up, and discovers several sitting at a Banquet. An Entertainment of Instrumental Musick, Compos'd by Signior_ Finger: _Then a Song, set by Mr._ John Eccles, _and Sung by Young_ La Roche.

SONG.

_Many I've lik'd, and some Enjoy'd, But if I said I Lov'd, I ly'd. Inconstant as the wandring Bee, From once touch'd Sweets I us'd to flee; Nor all the Power of Female Skill, Cou'd curb the freedom of my Will:_ Clarinda _only found the Art, To Conquer and so keep my Heart._

[_After this a Dance, and then the Scene shuts._

Enter_ Friendly _and_ Clara.

_Friend._ This is a Day of Mirth and Jollity my _Clara_.

_Clara._ 'Tis so, for such as can be merry, Mr. _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Why not for us my Love, we have a Noble President, and methinks shou'd Imitate (thrô Envy) this their happiness.

_Clara._ I am not of your Opinion.

_Friend._ Why not my Fair?

_Clara._ I'll tell you, because I purpose not to Marry.

_Fri._ Prithee be serious, and reform that Thought: Think of my past Service, and judge by that my future; weigh all the respect I have paid you long, and ever lov'd you beyond my self.

_Cla._ I know your Weakness, and will reward it too.

_Fri._ I am sure you will, you must be kind; And can you think an Answer of this killing Nature, a just return for all my faithful Love?

_Cla._ As to that I have already said.

_Fri._ Oh speak, from whence this Coldness doth arise! Be at least so kind as to tell me that; Is it some late Disgust you have conceived of my Person; or rather your desire, (I fear) of some unworthier, happy Creature, base in the Attempt, as you unkind in thinking of a Change; if neither.

_I must impute it to your Woman's Will, Still pleased with what it fancies, Good or Ill._

_Cla._ Be't what it will, thus it is, and with this Answer pray rest satisfied; there is but one way ever to win me and draw me unto Marriage, which whosoever finds, 'tis like he may have me, if not, I am still my own.

_Fri._ Oh name it then! Thou dearest Treasure of my Life! my Soul! my All! I am in a maze of Extasie, to think there's any means to gain you, and hope you'l be so kind to tell me how I may be happy.

_Cla._ I'll retire a while; and with my self resolve what must be done, and in the end send you my Resolution.

[_Exit_ Clara.

_Fri._ I'll here expect it: What more can I desire, than now be satisfied and know my Dooom.

_Suspence is the worst Torment we endure, 'Tis Knowledge make the Wound both safe and sure._

_Enter_ Spruce _and_ _Mr._ Venter.

_Spru._ How now _Jack_! What all alone Man?

_Fri._ No, for I have heard some say, Men are ne're less alone, then when alone. The reason I suppose is this, because they have Crowds of Thoughts, that still perplex the Mind; which wou'd be, like the Soul retired and free, thereby to enjoy that sweet repose, which nought but that can Grant.

_Spru._ Pshaw! Pox of this Morality and dull Stuff; Prithee let us be Merry, and Entertain the Bride and Bridegroom. Ods fish there a parcel of rare Creatures within! But of all Mrs. _Clara_ for my Money.

_Mr. Ven._ And truly, I am of your Opinion Mr. _Spruce_; for setting aside her present Melancholly and Discontent, I think she is beyond Comparison with any other.

_Spr._ Od's nigs, I know the Cause of her Disorder.

_Ven._ What I pray?

_Spr._ Why, I'll tell ye; In all Conditions of Estates, Professions, and Degrees, in Arts or Sciences, yee know there's a kind of Envious Emulation.

_Mr. Ven._ Right.

_Spr._ So in this of _Arabella_'s Marrying; for _Clara_ being Lady of much the same Birth and Quality, Grieves I--suppose to see her Rival get the start of her.

_Mr. Ven._ Troth like enough.

_Fri._ Y'are Pleasant Gentlemen--Or else because she having had so many Courtiers----

_Spr._ And you among the rest _Jack_.

_Fri._ She now perhaps does cast a more favourable Eye upon some one that does not like her.

_Spr._ Why Faith, and that may be too.

_Enter_ Lucy _with a Letter._

_Lucy._ Sir, my Mistriss presents her humble Service to you, and has sent you this Letter; pray Heaven it be to your liking Sir.

_Fri._ I thank the kind _Lucy_: There, there's for the Postage Girle: [_Gives her Money._] She has kept her Promise for once I see; I'm resolved to read it, thô I were sure my Death was Comprehended in it.

Reads. _Try all your Friends, and find out the best and nearest to your Heart, That done, be sure to kill him for my sake. This fail not to do, if you respect and Love (as you pretend.)_

Clara.

'Tis as I fear'd, and what I know she most desires: Mischief, and Murder, are all her Sexes Practice, and Delight? Yet such is the Extravagancy of my Passion, I must obey the Mandate, thô to my certain Ruine: 'Tis strangely difficult, and does require Mature Deliberation.

[_Exit._

_Spr._ What has _Friendly_ left us?

_Mr. Ven._ I believe the Letter was the occasion, it may be it was a Challenge.

_Spr._ A Challenge! No, no; Women don't use to bring Challenges, I rather believe 'tis an Amour; And that Letter as you call it a _Billet Deux_, which is to Conduct him to the place appointed; and in some Sence you may take that for a Challenge.

_Mr. Ven._ And she the Civil Embassadress to usher him in.

_Spr._ Yes, yes, but see the Bride and Bridegroom, with the rest of the good Company.

_Enter Justice_ Merry-man, Bonvile, Arabella, _Mrs._ Venter _and others, as Guests Invited to the Wedding._

_Mer._ Son _Bonvile_, what call ye the Gentleman we met at the Garden Door?

_Bon._ _Friendly_ Sir, a most approv'd and worthy Gentleman, and one of my chiefest Guests.

_Mer._ Ay, ay, it may be so: But yet me thought he seemed somewhat displeased, thô Son, Hah, What think you?

_Bon._ No sure Sir, he cannot be Angry, when his Friend's so happy.

_Mer._ I can't tell Boy, but I believe there's something more than ordinary in the matter. Why should he leave the Company else? And Mrs. _Clara_ I miss her too. Why Gentlemen, why do you suffer this?

_Ara._ Unknown to any Sir, she withdrew soon as we rise from Table.

_Mer._ Sick of the Maid perhaps; because she sees you Mrs. Bride her Quondam Play fellow Married before her; Heh Gentlemen, heh!

_Mr. Ven._ 'Troth like enough Brother _Merry-man_.

_Mer._ Go, go, find her out for shame Gentlemen; and do not stand idle thus, Od's bobs, when I was a Young fellow and invited to a Wedding, I used to frisk and Jump, and so bestir my self, that I made all the _Green-sickness_ Girles in the Room blush like Rubies. Ah, hah! I was a brisk Fellow in those Days, I'faith, and used to Cut Capers a Yard high: Nor am I yet so Old, but I can take a round or two still--Come, come Gentlemen, lets in again and firk it away, shall we not?

_Spr._ With all my Heart Mr. Justice.

_Mer._ Why that's well said Mr. _Spruce_, Ods bobs it was, and I thank you heartily.

_Spr._ Come Madam, you must along with us, without you all's nothing.

_Arab._ I'll wait on you Gentlemen; if you will give me leave Sir. [_To_ Bonvile.

_Bon._ Oh my best Joy! This Day you may Command.

_Mer._ That's right, that's right I'faith Gentlemen! This Day she Commands, and he for ever after. Ods bobs I have done so my self, and hope I shall do so still. Sister _Venter_, May I presume to ask if my Brother can say as much?

[_Exit_ Bonvile, Arab. Spruce, _and the rest of the Guests._]

_Mrs. Vent._ Yes Brother, I think he may, I freely Give him leave.

_Mer._ Observe that Brother, she freely gives you leave: But who Gives leave the Master or the Servant?

_Mr. Ven._ You are Merry Brother, and truly you have reason, having but one Daughter and see her Married as you would have her.

_Mer._ Yes, I have one thank Heaven! You wou'd be glad Sister you cou'd say so, but your Barrenness does give your Husband leave (if he please) to look for Game elsewhere.

_Mrs. Ven._ Well, well Sir, thô you jeer me, and make a scorn of my Sterility--

_Mer._ No, no, not I Sister, I scorn not your Sterility, nor your Husbands Virility neither.

_Mrs. Ven._ My Husband's Virility! Pray spare my Husband; for he has not been so idle as you imagin; He may have an--Offspring abroad for ought you know, that you never heard of.

_Mr. Ven._ Oh fye Wife, You will not make it publick will you?

_Mrs. Ven._ And yet he keeps himself within compass for all that.

_Mr. Ven._ If you love me _Winny_--

_Mrs. Ven._ Na, I say no more, but thereby hangs a Tale.

_Mer._ Say'st thou so old Girle? What and has he been stragling then? Nay; nay I know he is a Ventersome Man; And a--Merchant of small Wares sometimes, especially when he can get a good Commodity: I love him the better for't I'faith, Ods bobs I do--A notable spark with a Young Wench in a corner, Is he not? A true Chip of the old block, his Father I warrant him--But Sister, I have something to say to you in private, concerning my Daughter.

_Enter Nurse._

_Nurse._ By your leave Good Folks, Is Master _Venter_ the Merchant here I pray?

_Mr. Ven._ Oh Nurse! I am glad to see thee, How does my Boy?

_Nurse._ Very well, I thank Heaven Sir! He grows bravely I assure you. 'Tis a Chopping lad I promise you, and as like your good Worship; As if he had been spit out of your Mouth.

_Mr. Ven._ Softly, Nurse softly.

_Nurse._ I protest 'tis one of the forward'st Infants in the Universe; Lord! how it will Crow, and Chirup like a Sparrow! I am afraid Sir he is about Teeth, for he Dribbles extreamly, if so, Your Worship must provide him a Silver Corral with a Whistle and Chain.

_Mr. Ven._ Well, well, he shall have everything Nurse, my Wife shall send them to ye; in the mean time, there, there's a Piece, to buy thee a Pair of Gloves, and so leave us, for I am busie at present, therefore steal away behind me, and slip out at the back Door.

_Nurse._ Yes Sir, I am gone, Heavens bless your Worship, a Piece! Marry! and that's a sufficient Charm to lye up any Nurses Tongue in _Christendom_.

[_Ex. Nurse_

_Just. Mer._ Well well, it shall be done: Come Brother we are mist I warrant you amongst the Young Fry, let's to 'um and, Dance till our Legs ake again, come I'll lead the way.

_Mr. Ven._ We follow you.

[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Friendly _Reading the Letter._

_Fr._ Heaven in its excess of Goodness, bestow'd no greater Blessing on Mankind than that of Friendship--To Murder any one is a Crime unpardonable! _But a Friend!--And of all Friends the nearest to my Heart_,--'Tis such an Imposition that Hell it self 'till now cou'd never parallel; And yet this Devil of a Woman has power over me beyond all Virtue. I am distracted in my Thoughts, and know not what to do; yet something must be done without delay, or else I lose her quite: And yet I fear 'tis most Impossible, for Friendship left the World, when Justice fled, and all who now do wear that Name are the worst of Hypocrites,

_Like Counterfeited Coin on which is seen, The formal Stamp; but sordid Dross within._

_Enter_ Bonivile.

_Bon._ My Friend alone and Thoughtful? say for what? That you alone appear with Discontent, When all my Friends Congratulate my Bliss? Is it because (which I durst ne're suspect) Your Love to me was not intirely true? Or else perhaps, this Crown of Happiness You think Misplac'd, and Envy it not yours.

_Fri._ Forbear such cruel Words-- How can you entertain a Thought so Vile Of him whom so long you have call'd your Friend? May all the Blesings Heaven can bestow On us poor Mortals in this World below, Crown all your Days, and may you nothing see But flowing Tides of sweet Felicity; But I, alas!--

_Bon._ Alas! What means my _Friendly_? Much hidden Grief that wretched Word portends, Which thus disturbs the Quiet of my Friend? But come disclose it to me, And since the Burthen is too much for one, I'll bear a part to ease thy troubled Breast.

_Fri._ Oh _Bonvile_! Seek not to force this Fatal secret from me--

_Bon._ I must know it, by my best hopes I must.

_Fri._ Oh no! I cannot, Nay I dare not--

_Bon._ How dare not trust a secret to a Friend?

_Fri._ Oh _Bonville_, _Bonville_! Call me not your Friend, That Name strikes horrour to my very Soul.

_Bon._ Ha! Art thou then a Stranger to that Name?

_Fri._ Indeed I am, and must be so for ever now.

_Bon._ Yet hear me _Friendly_; Deny me if thou can'st, Fixt as a Rock, I vow I'll here remain, Until I have forc'd this Dire secret from thee.

_Fri._ Pardon me Sir, I hope you soon will hear it, But I----

[_Offers to go._]

_Bon._ Yet stay, and since intreaty can't prevail, By all the Friendship which you once profess'd, By all that's Holy, both in Heaven and Earth, I now Conjure thee to impart it to me, Or by this Life----

_Fri._ Hold, hold, and since I can no longer hide it Know 'tis my Honour then which lyes at Stake.

_Bon._ Thy Honour! How? Proceed.

_Fri._ By chance a Quarrel happen'd to arise Betwixt another and my self, The Field, Time, Place, and all appointed, Nay Seconds must assist us in the Deed: I have relied on many seeming Friends, (Such as profess the bare and empty Name) And all refuse to venture in my Cause.

_Bon._ Is this all?

_Fri_ All, Is it not enough? To see my Reputation, (the Lifes Blood of my Soul) Nay all that's Dear, in Danger to be lost.

_Bon._ Not while thy _Bonvile_ lives and wears a Sword: May all things frown that I wou'd have to smile, May I live Poor, and Dye despised by all, If I out live the ruine of thy Honour! Tell me the time my Friend?

_Fri._ Oh, spare me that, for, if once known the time, You'l Cancel this your promise, and recall Your Friendly proffer.

_Bon._ Away with these Excuses, come the time.

_Fri._ At Seven this Evening.

_Bon._ The place?

_Fri._ _Barn-Elms_: Oh the fatal place! Where I too well foresee, The certain fall and Ruine of my Honour!

_Bon._ No, Thou shalt not stay to forfeit thy lov'd Honour, Come I'm ready to assist my Friend; and will along with you.

_Fri._ Alas. What mean you? Of all my Friends on you I ne're Relied; But sure I Dream, I Rave, by Heav'ns I'm Mad! My _Bonvile_ leave his Wife? And on his Wedding Day? His Bride whom he perhaps may ne're Enjoy? And all for me? O most unhappy Man!

_Bon._ Pleasure before my Friend I'll ne're prefer, Nor is it lost, thô for a while, delay'd.

_Fri._ Are you then resolv'd to go?

_Bon._ I am as fixt in my Resolve as is the _Libertin_ in vice, Which Death alone can part.

_Fri._ Yet stay, and think what it is you undertake, Recall this Rash and suddain Resolution, Least you repent, alas when it is too late.

_Bon._ This were enough to shake a weaker Soul, But mine it moves not; like to a Mighty Oake, I'm plac'd above the Storms of Fear or Doubt.

_Enter_ Arabella.

_Fri._ Sir, no more, the Bride,

_Ara._ Oh, Heavens defend me!

_Bon._ What ailes my Dearest Life?

_Ara._ I've lost the Key of this Chain I wear about my Neck And of these Bracelets, Oh! Unhappy Omen!

_Bon._ No, no, my Love; I found it as it lay at Random in your Chamber, and fearing it might be forgot, or lost, have laid it by; 'Tis safe my Love.

_Ara._ Indeed I'me very glad you've found it, but yet----

[sighs.

_Bon._ Yet, What my Dear? from whence proceeds that sigh?

_Ara._ Alas, I know not! Some busie Genius Whispers to my Soul, The loss of this upon my Wedding Day Portend's a greater e're the Day be past.

_Bon._ Banish such Fears, let's in and see our Friends.

_Ara._ Indeed they all expect you; come I'll lead the way.

_Bon._ I'll go with you. _Barn-Elms_ you say?

[_Aside to_ Friendly.

_Fri._ Yes that's the place, at Seven precisely;

_Bon._ I'll meet you on the _Exchange_, and go together; If you are there before me, Take a turn or two.

[_Exit_ Bonvile, _and_ Arabella.

_Fri._ Oh my Dear _Bonvile_! Art thou then the Man? The only, only Man that I can call Friend, And only Friend that I am bound to Kill? A Friend, that for my sake wou'd stake his Life, Leave a Chast Bride and untouch'd Nuptial Bed For me base Man, nay worse than Savage Beast: The generous Lyon, never kills his kind They say, althô provoked to utmost rage; Yet I vile Monster, more ungrateful Man, Thus unprovoked, must kill my Brother Creature, And which is worse, my Dear and only Friend! All for the pleasure of a Foolish Woman.

_O cruel Woman thus to Command A Task so hard, Yet what I can't withstand! Oh! thou rare Copy of the Original, By which free Man at first received his fall; For she not only wou'd her self undo, And all her Sex, but Damn all Mankind too._

[_Exit._

_The End of the First Act._

ACT the Second.

SCENE the First.

_The Fields._

_Enter_ Summerfield _solus._

_Sum._ A Younger Brother! 'Tis a poor Title, and very hard to bear with: The Elder Fool inherits all the Land, whilst we are forc'd to follow _Legacies of Wit, and get 'um when we can_. Why shou'd the Law, by which we are deprived of equal Portion with the First-begotten, not bind our Fathers to cease from Procreation, and so as well deprive us of a wretched Being, as of the Thing we cannot be without: No, no, our Mothers ne're will consent to that, they love to groan and squall, tho at the same time the Gallows eccho's to their Groans, and both together labour for us. From the first we travel forth--to'thers our Journey's End. _All this I know, yet I must forward_: To beg, my Birth will ne're consent to; and _borrowing is quite out of date_--Yet starve I cannot, _nor murder I wou'd not_: It must be the Highway then, the old Trade we poor honest Rogues are forc'd too--This Place will serve for a Beginner well enough--A Beginner did I say? Yes; for this is the very first day I open Shop--Fortune, they say, uses to help the Bold, I hope she will be kind to me. Ha! who have we here? A Gentlewoman well rigg'd, and only a Servant with her, She may be a Prize worth the boarding, and faith I'll venture hard but I'll carry her.

[_He retires to a corner of the Stage._

_Enter_ Arabella _in great disorder, looking about her, with_ Symon _her Servant._

_Arab._ This way, say'st thou _Symon_, with _Friendly_?

_Sym._ Yes forsooth Mistress, with Mr. _Friendly_.

_Arab._ Alas! I'm tired and cannot travel further; my Heart is full of Fear, and yet I know not why, nor can I tell why he should use me thus,--It is not common sure for Men to leave their Brides upon the Wedding-day: And yet I cannot tell but it may be so! O wretched State of Marriage, and of Love, if this be Love! Here will I lie me down, and rest a while [_Lies down._] my wearied Limbs, unused to these sad Frights and Fears--But prethee do thou run after him, and if it be possible o'retake him too: Tell him the strange Disorder thou dost leave me in; and let him know my Father's Anger, his Friends Concern, and what is more, his _Arabella_'s sad Complaint; tell him, I grieve, I faint, I die; tell him any thing that may stay him.

_Sym._ Yes Forsooth.

_Arab._ Intreat him to return; nay, urge him all thou canst to make him come again: Nay haste, good _Symon_, fly if thou canst, for I can stir no further.

_Sym._ Well, well, Forsooth, I am gone.

[_Exit_ Symon.

_Arab._ Alas, how wretched and forlorn am I!

_I she whom once so many did admire, Whose Wit and Charms the coldest Hearts cou'd fire! Now wretched Maid, and most unhappy Wife, In Sighs and in Complaints must end my Life. Abandoned by my Husband, e're enjoyed, With thoughts of Pleasure, yet untasted, cloy'd. He leaves me now to my sad Frights a Prey; O, my dear_ Bonvile! _whither dost thou stray? Unheard, alas! I make my amarous Moans; The Winds and Waves refuse to bear my Groans: Eccho her self can't suffer my Complaint, But with repeated Sighs grows tir'd and faint. Where to find him, good Heaven direct me! For losing him, I more than lose my self._

[_Rises, and_ Exit.

_Sum._ I must after her, she's worth my Acquaintance, and has good Moveables about her I perceive, what e're the Ready is. The next Turning has a most convenient Hollow for the Purpose, and there I'll make her sure. Now Luck, or never.

[_Exit after_ Arabella.

_Reenter_ Arabella, _and_ Summerfield _after her._

_Ara._ I'm at a stand already, and know not where I am.

_Sum._ I'll direct you, Madam; Well overtaken.

_Ara._ Bless me, Sir; What are you?

_Sum._ A Man.

_Ara._ An honest Man, I hope?

_Sum._ Yes faith in some Respects, I'm very honest, but not altogether so; I were not fit to live in the World if I were too honest, Child.

_Ara._ Alas! then I begin to fear: Pray tell me what you are?

_Sum._ Why, faith, an honest Thief.

_Ara._ How, honest, and yet a Thief? I never heard they were of Kin before; Pray, Heaven, I find it now.

_Sum._ Indeed! a very honest Thief.

_Ara._ Well, Sir, since that's your Title, pray use me kindly: Nay, I'm sure you will, there's something in your Looks which speaks you mild and noble.

_Sum._ Yes, I am a Gentleman, and you shall find me so; for I'll not offer you the least shew of Violence, or offer to corrupt your Chastity; thô indeed you are tempting Fair, and might inflame a colder Heart than mine: Yet Ravishing's no part of my Profession as yet; or if it were, you look so charming Innocent, you wou'd disarm my wildest Thoughts.

_Ara._ Blessings on your Goodness!

_Sum._ Are you a Maid, or Wife?

_Ara._ I am both, Sir.

_Sum._ Then this it seems is your Wedding-day, and these the Hours of Interim that keep you in that double State?

_Ara._ Indeed you are in the right.

_Sum._ Come then, I'll be brief, and hinder not your desired _Hymen_. You have some superfluous Toys I see about you, which you must deliver; I mean, that Chain of Gold and Pearl about your Neck, and those pretty Bracelets about your Arms, (pray, Heaven, they prove not Emblems of the combined Hemp which is to halter mine); come, Madam, pray deliver 'em.

_Ara._ Nay, I intreat you, Sir, to take 'em, for I cannot give 'em, they are lock'd you see, and truly I have not the Key about me; it may be you are furnish'd with Instruments that may unloose 'em, I pray do.

_Sum._ No faith, Madam, I'm but a Beginner in this same Business, and am wholly unprovided of any Pick-lock Tools besides this Sword.

[_Draws his Sword._

_Ara._ O, good Sir, do not shew me that, 'tis too frightful; pray hurt me not, for I do yield them freely: Use your Hands, perhaps their strength will serve to tear 'em from me without more ado. Some Pain I'll quietly endure, provide you do not hurt me much.

_Sum._ Alas, dear Lady, I'll use you as gently as I can upon my Word; but 'tis devilish strong.--If I hurt you, pray speak.

[_He endeavours to break the Chain about her Neck._]

_Ara._ Not much, Sir.

_Sum._ I am glad on't,--S'death, I can't do it.

[_She draws his Sword, and stands upon her Guard._

_Ara._ No Sir, nor shall not now: You a Highway-man and guard your self no better: Come, Sir, what Money have you? Deliver quickly.

_Sum._ Not a Cross by this foolish Hand of mine!

_Ara._ How, no Money, 'twere pity then to take this from thee; Here, take it again, I know you'l use me ne're the worse for what I have done.

[_Gives him his Sword again._]

_Sum._ No, by my Life!

_Ara._ I do believe you; and now pray hear me--Here on my Knees, in sight of Heaven, I make this solemn Protestation, That if you'l but forbear the Rifling of this Chain and Bracelets, and go but with me Home, by all the Vows which I this Day have plighted to my dearest Husband, I will deliver you in Money the full Value of these I wear, and cannot for my Life get off.

_Sum._ Ha! Ready-money is the Prize I look for; it passes without suspicion every where, when Chains and Jewels are often stop'd and call'd for before the Magistrate: But----

_Ara._ Nay never doubt! You saw I gave you my Advantage up, and questioned not my safety at your hands, pray fear not yours in mine.

_Sum._ I know not what to do.

_Ara._ Pray tell me, Sir, did you ever think a Woman true?

_Sum._ I have heard of some, but very few.

_Ara._ Will you add one more to your belief?

_Sum._ I think I may, for they were fewer than the Articles of my Faith, therefore I have room for you, and will believe you--Yet stay, you say you'l ransom your jewels with Ready-money when you come Home; so you may, and then discover me.

_Ara._ Shall I repeat the Vows I made?

_Sum._ No, for I'll trust you; and if you do betray me, then Mercy upon me, and Farewel. I knew a Gentleman that had been a Courtier at _Whitehall_ fifteen Years, and he was buried e're he took a Bride: 'Tis very strange you'l say; and may be my Case in another way.

_Ara._ Come, Sir, never fear: A Man and afraid; Fie, fie!

_Sum._ Give me your Hand, I'll wait on you; and if you are (as I believe you) True and Just, you are the World's Wonder! Come, Madam.

[_Exeunt._