SCENE II.--_Another part of the same.

_Enter_ GRIPE, _leading_ LUCY; Mrs. JOYNER _and_ Mrs. CROSSBITE _following._

_Gripe._ Mrs. Joyner, I can conform to this mode of public walking by moonlight, because one is not known.

_Lucy._ Why, are you ashamed of your company?

_Gripe._ No, pretty one; because in the dark, or as it were in the dark, there is no envy nor scandal. I would neither lose you nor my reputation.

_Mrs. Joyn._ Your reputation! indeed, your worship, 'tis well known there are as grave men as your worship; nay, men in office too, that adjourn their cares and businesses, to come and unbend themselves at night here, with a little vizard-mask.

_Gripe._ I do believe it, Mrs. Joyner.

_Lucy._ Ay, godmother, and carries and treats her at Mulberry-garden.

_Mrs. Cros._ Nay, does not only treat her, but gives her his whole gleaning of that day.

_Gripe._ They may, they may, Mrs. Crossbite; they take above six in the hundred.

_Mrs. Cros._ Nay, there are those of so much worth and honour and love, that they'll take it from their wives and children to give it to their misses; now your worship has no wife, and but one child.

_Gripe._ Still for my edification! [_Aside._

_Mrs. Joyn._ That's true, indeed; for I know a great lady that cannot follow her husband abroad to his haunts, because her Ferrandine is so ragged and greasy, whilst his mistress is as fine as fi'pence, in embroidered satins.

_Gripe._ Politicly done of him indeed! If the truth were known, he is a statesman by that, umph--

_Mrs. Cros._ Truly, your women of quality are very troublesome to their husbands: I have heard 'em complain, they will allow them no separate maintenance, though the honourable jilts themselves will not marry without it.

_Mrs. Joyn._ Come, come, mistress; sometimes 'tis the craft of those gentlemen to complain of their wives' expenses to excuse their own narrowness to their misses; but your daughter has a gallant that can make no excuse.

_Gripe._ So, Mrs. Joyner!--my friend, Mrs. Joyner--

_Mrs. Cros._ I hope, indeed, he'll give my daughter no cause to dun him; for, poor wretch! she is as modest as her mother.

_Gripe._ I profess, I believe it.

_Lucy._ But I have the boldness to ask him for a treat.--Come, gallant, we must walk towards the Mulberry-garden.

_Gripe._ So!--I am afraid, little mistress, the rooms are all taken up by this time.

_Mrs. Joyn._ Will you shame yourself again? [_Aside to_ GRIPE.

_Lucy._ If the rooms be full we'll have an arbour.

_Gripe._ At this time of night!--besides, the waiters will ne'er come near you.

_Lucy._ They will be observant of good customers, as we shall be. Come along.

_Gripe._ Indeed, and verily, little mistress, I would go, but that I should be forsworn if I did.

_Mrs. Joyn._ That's so pitiful an excuse!--

_Gripe._ In truth, I have forsworn the place ever since I was pawned there for a reckoning.

_Lucy._ You have broken many an oath for the good old cause, and will you boggle at one for your poor little miss? Come along.

_Enter_ Lady FLIPPANT _behind._

_L. Flip._ Unfortunate lady that I am! I have left the herd on purpose to be chased, and have wandered this hour here; but the Park affords not so much as a satyr for me, and (that's strange!) no Burgundy man or drunken scourer will reel my way. The rag-women, and cinder-women, have better luck than I.--But who are these? if this mongrel light does not deceive me, 'tis my brother,--'tis he:--there's Joyner, too, and two other women. I'll follow 'em. It must be he, for this world hath nothing like him;--I know not what the devil may be in the other. [_Exeunt._