SCENE II.--_The New Exchange.

_Enter_ HORNER, HARCOURT, _and_ DORILANT.

_Dor._ Engaged to women, and not sup with us!

_Horn._ Ay, a pox on 'em all!

_Har._ You were much a more reasonable man in the morning, and had as noble resolutions against 'em, as a widower of a week's liberty.

_Dor._ Did I ever think to see you keep company with women in vain?

_Horn._ In vain: no--'tis since I can't love 'em, to be revenged on 'em.

_Har._ Now your sting is gone, you looked in the box amongst all those women like a drone in the hive; all upon you, shoved and ill-used by 'em all, and thrust from one side to t'other.

_Dor._ Yet he must be buzzing amongst 'em still, like other beetle-headed liquorish drones. Avoid 'em, and hate 'em, as they hate you.

_Horn._ Because I do hate 'em, and would hate 'em yet more, I'll frequent 'em. You may see by marriage, nothing makes a man hate a woman more than her constant conversation. In short, I converse with 'em, as you do with rich fools, to laugh at 'em and use 'em ill.

_Dor._ But I would no more sup with women, unless I could lie with 'em, than sup with a rich coxcomb, unless I could cheat him.

_Horn._ Yes, I have known thee sup with a fool for his drinking; if he could set out your hand that way only, you were satisfied, and if he were a wine-swallowing mouth, 'twas enough.

_Har._ Yes, a man drinks often with a fool, as he tosses with a marker, only to keep his hand in use. But do the ladies drink?

_Horn._ Yes, sir; and I shall have the pleasure at least of laying 'em flat with a bottle, and bring as much scandal that way upon 'em as formerly t'other.

_Har._ Perhaps you may prove as weak a brother among 'em that way as t'other.

_Dor._ Foh! drinking with women is as unnatural as scolding with 'em. But 'tis a pleasure of decayed fornicators, and the basest way of quenching love.

_Har._ Nay, 'tis drowning love, instead of quenching it. But leave us for civil women too!

_Dor._ Ay, when he can't be the better for 'em. We hardly pardon a man that leaves his friend for a wench, and that's a pretty lawful call.

_Horn._ Faith, I would not leave you for 'em, if they would not drink.

_Dor._ Who would disappoint his company at Lewis's for a gossiping?

_Har._ Foh! Wine and women, good apart, together are as nauseous as sack and sugar. But hark you, sir, before you go, a little of your advice; an old maimed general, when unfit for action, is fittest for counsel. I have other designs upon women than eating and drinking with them; I am in love with Sparkish's mistress, whom he is to marry to-morrow: now how shall I get her?

_Enter_ SPARKISH, _looking about._

_Horn._ Why, here comes one will help you to her.

_Har._ He! he, I tell you, is my rival, and will hinder my love.

_Horn._ No; a foolish rival and a jealous husband assist their rival's designs; for they are sure to make their women hate them, which is the first step to their love for another man.

_Har._ But I cannot come near his mistress but in his company.

_Horn._ Still the better for you; for fools are most easily cheated when they themselves are accessories: and he is to be bubbled of his mistress as of his money, the common mistress, by keeping him company.

_Spark._ Who is that that is to be bubbled? Faith, let me snack; I han't met with a bubble since Christmas. 'Gad, I think bubbles are like their brother woodcocks, go out with the cold weather.

_Har._ A pox! he did not hear all, I hope. [_Apart to_ HORNER.

_Spark._ Come, you bubbling rogues you, where do we sup?--Oh, Harcourt, my mistress tells me you have been making fierce love to her all the play long: ha! ha!--But I--

_Har._ I make love to her!

_Spark._ Nay, I forgive thee, for I think I know thee, and I know her; but I am sure I know myself.

_Har._ Did she tell you so? I see all women are like these of the Exchange; who, to enhance the prize of their commodities, report to their fond customers offers which were never made 'em.

_Horn._ Ay, women are apt to tell before the intrigue, as men after it, and so show themselves the vainer sex. But hast thou a mistress, Sparkish? 'Tis as hard for me to believe it, as that thou ever hadst a bubble, as you bragged just now.

_Spark._ O, your servant, sir: are you at your raillery, sir? But we are some of us beforehand with you to-day at the play. The wits were something bold with you, sir; did you not hear us laugh?

_Horn._ Yes; but I thought you had gone to plays, to laugh at the poet's wit, not at your own.

_Spark._ Your servant, sir: no, I thank you. 'Gad I go to a play as to a country treat; I carry my own wine to one, and my own wit to t'other, or else I'm sure I should not be merry at either. And the reason why we are so often louder than the players, is, because we think we speak more wit, and so become the poet's rivals in his audience: for to tell you the truth, we hate the silly rogues; nay, so much, that we find fault even with their bawdy upon the stage, whilst we talk nothing else in the pit as loud.

_Horn._ But why shouldst thou hate the silly poets? Thou hast too much wit to be one; and they, like whores, are only hated by each other: and thou dost scorn writing, I'm sure.

_Spark._ Yes; I'd have you to know I scorn writing: but women, women, that make men do all foolish things, make 'em write songs too. Everybody does it. 'Tis even as common with lovers, as playing with fans; and you can no more help rhyming to your Phillis, than drinking to your Phillis.

_Har._ Nay, poetry in love is no more to be avoided than jealousy.

_Dor._ But the poets damned your songs, did they?

_Spark._ Damn the poets! they have turned 'em into burlesque, as they call it. That burlesque is a hocus-pocus trick they have got, which, by the virtue of _Hictius doctius topsy turvy_, they make a wise and witty man in the world, a fool upon the stage you know not how: and 'tis therefore I hate 'em too, for I know not but it may be my own case; for they'll put a man into a play for looking asquint. Their predecessors were contented to make serving-men only their stage-fools: but these rogues must have gentlemen, with a pox to 'em, nay, knights; and, indeed, you shall hardly see a fool upon the stage but he's a knight. And to tell you the truth, they have kept me these six years from being a knight in earnest, for fear of being knighted in a play, and dubbed a fool.

_Dor._ Blame 'em not, they must follow their copy, the age.

_Har._ But why shouldst thou be afraid of being in a play, who expose yourself every day in the play-houses, and at public places?

_Horn._ 'Tis but being on the stage, instead of standing on a bench in the pit.

_Dor._ Don't you give money to painters to draw you like? and are you afraid of your pictures at length in a playhouse, where all your mistresses may see you?

_Spark._ A pox! painters don't draw the small-pox or pimples in one's face. Come, damn all your silly authors whatever, all books and booksellers, by the world; and all readers, courteous or uncourteous!

_Har._ But who comes here, Sparkish?

_Enter_ PINCHWIFE _and_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE _in man's clothes_, ALITHEA _and_ LUCY.

_Spark._ Oh, hide me! There's my mistress too. [SPARKISH _hides himself behind_ HARCOURT.

_Har._ She sees you.

_Spark._ But I will not see her. 'Tis time to go to Whitehall, and I must not fail the drawing-room.

_Har._ Pray, first carry me, and reconcile me to her.

_Spark._ Another time. Faith, the king will have supped.

_Har._ Not with the worse stomach for thy absence. Thou art one of those fools that think their attendance at the king's meals as necessary as his physicians, when you are more troublesome to him than his doctors or his dogs.

_Spark._ Pshaw! I know my interest, sir. Prithee hide me.

_Horn._ Your servant, Pinchwife.--What, he knows us not!

_Pinch._ Come along. [_To his_ Wife _aside_.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Pray, have you any ballads? give me sixpenny worth.

_Bookseller._ We have no ballads.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Then give me "Covent Garden Drollery," and a play or two--Oh, here's "Tarugo's Wiles," and "The Slighted Maiden";[75] I'll have them.

_Pinch._ No; plays are not for your reading. Come along; will you discover yourself? [_Apart to her._

_Horn._ Who is that pretty youth with him, Sparkish?

_Spark._ I believe his wife's brother, because he's something like her: but I never saw her but once.

_Horn._ Extremely handsome; I have seen a face like it too. Let us follow 'em. [_Exeunt_ PINCHWIFE, Mrs. PINCHWIFE, ALITHEA, _and_ LUCY; HORNER _and_ DORILANT _following them._

_Har._ Come, Sparkish, your mistress saw you, and will be angry you go not to her. Besides, I would fain be reconciled to her, which none but you can do, dear friend.

_Spark._ Well, that's a better reason, dear friend. I would not go near her now for her's or my own sake; but I can deny you nothing: for though I have known thee a great while, never go, if I do not love thee as well as a new acquaintance.

_Mar._ I am obliged to you indeed, dear friend. I would be well with her, only to be well with thee still; for these ties to wives usually dissolve all ties to friends. I would be contented she should enjoy you a-nights, but I would have you to myself a-days as I have had, dear friend.

_Spark._ And thou shalt enjoy me a-days, dear, dear friend, never stir: and I'll be divorced from her, sooner than from thee. Come along.

_Har._ [_Aside._] So, we are hard put to't, when we make our rival our procurer; but neither she nor her brother would let me come near her now. When all's done, a rival is the best cloak to steal to a mistress under, without suspicion; and when we have once got to her as we desire, we throw him off like other cloaks. [_Exit_ SPARKISH, HARCOURT _following him._

_Re-enter_ PINCHWIFE _and_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE.

_Pinch._ [_To_ ALITHEA.] Sister, if you will not go, we must leave you.--[_Aside._] The fool her gallant and she will muster up all the young saunterers of this place, and they will leave their dear sempstresses to follow us. What a swarm of cuckolds and cuckold-makers are here!--Come, let's be gone, Mistress Margery.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Don't you believe that; I han't half my bellyfull of sights yet.

_Pinch._ Then walk this way.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Lord, what a power of brave signs are here! stay--the Bull's-Head, the Ram's-Head, and the Stag's-Head, dear--

_Pinch._ Nay, if every husband's proper sign here were visible, they would be all alike.

_Mrs. Pinch._ What d'ye mean by that, bud?

_Pinch._ 'Tis no matter--no matter, bud.

_Mrs Pinch._ Pray tell me: nay, I will know.

_Pinch._ They would be all Bulls, Stags, and Rams-heads. [_Exeunt_ PINCHWIFE _and_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE.

_Re-enter_ SPARKISH, HARCOURT, ALITHEA, _and_ LUCY, _at the other side._

_Spark._ Come, dear madam, for my sake you shall be reconciled to him.

_Alith._ For your sake I hate him.

_Har._ That's something too cruel, madam, to hate me for his sake.

_Spark._ Ay indeed, madam, too, too cruel to me, to hate my friend for my sake.

_Alith._ I hate him because he is your enemy; and you ought to hate him too, for making love to me, if you love me.

_Spark._ That's a good one! I hate a man for loving you! If he did love you, 'tis but what he can't help; and 'tis your fault, not his, if he admires you. I hate a man for being of my opinion! I'll n'er do't, by the world.

_Alith._ Is it for your honour, or mine, to suffer a man to make love to me, who am to marry you to-morrow?

_Spark._ Is it for your honour, or mine, to have me jealous? That he makes love to you, is a sign you are handsome; and that I am not jealous, is a sign you are virtuous. That I think is for your honour.

_Alith._ But 'tis your honour too I am concerned for.

_Har._ But why, dearest madam, will you be more concerned for his honour than he is himself? Let his honour alone, for my sake and his. He! he has no honour--

_Spark._ How's that?

_Har._ But what my dear friend can guard himself.

_Spark._ O ho--that's right again.

_Har._ Your care of his honour argues his neglect of it, which is no honour to my dear friend here. Therefore once more, let his honour go which way it will, dear madam.

_Spark._ Ay, ay; were it for my honour to marry a woman whose virtue I suspected, and could not trust her in a friend's hands?

_Alith._ Are you not afraid to lose me?

_Har._ He afraid to lose you, madam! No, no--you may see how the most estimable and most glorious creature in the world is valued by him. Will you not see it?

_Spark._ Right, honest Frank, I have that noble value for her that I cannot be jealous of her.

_Alith._ You mistake him. He means, you care not for me, nor who has me.

_Spark._ Lord, madam, I see you are jealous! Will you wrest a poor man's meaning from his words?

_Alith._ You astonish me, sir, with your want of jealousy.

_Spark._ And you make me giddy, madam, with your jealousy and fears, and virtue and honour. 'Gad, I see virtue makes a woman as troublesome as a little reading or learning.

_Alith._ Monstrous!

_Lucy._ Well, to see what easy husbands these women of quality can meet with! a poor chambermaid can never have such ladylike luck. Besides, he's thrown away upon her. She'll make no use of her fortune, her blessing, none to a gentleman, for a pure cuckold; for it requires good breeding to be a cuckold. [_Aside._

_Alith._ I tell you then plainly, he pursues me to marry me.

_Spark._ Pshaw!

_Har._ Come, madam, you see you strive in vain to make him jealous of me. My dear friend is the kindest creature in the world to me.

_Spark._ Poor fellow!

_Har._ But his kindness only is not enough for me, without your favour, your good opinion, dear madam: 'tis that must perfect my happiness. Good gentleman, he believes all I say: would you would do so! Jealous of me! I would not wrong him nor you for the world.

_Spark._ Look you there. Hear him, hear him, and do not walk away so. [ALITHEA _walks carelessly to and fro._

_Har._ I love you, madam, so--

_Spark._ How's that? Nay, now you begin to go too far indeed.

_Har._ So much, I confess, I say, I love you, that I would not have you miserable, and cast yourself away upon so unworthy and inconsiderable a thing as what you see here. [_Clapping his hand on his breast, points at_ SPARKISH.

_Spark._ No, faith, I believe thou wouldst not: now his meaning is plain; but I knew before thou wouldst not wrong me, nor her.

_Har._ No, no, Heavens forbid the glory of her sex should fall so low, as into the embraces of such a contemptible wretch, the least of mankind--my friend here--I injure him! [_Embracing_ SPARKISH.

_Alith._ Very well.

_Spark._ No, no, dear friend, I knew it.--Madam, you see he will rather wrong himself than me, in giving himself such names.

_Alith._ Do not you understand him yet?

_Spark._ Yes: how modestly he speaks of himself, poor fellow!

_Alith._ Methinks he speaks impudently of yourself, since--before yourself too; insomuch that I can no longer suffer his scurrilous abusiveness to you, no more than his love to me. [_Offers to go._

_Spark._ Nay, nay, madam, pray stay--his love to you! Lord, madam, has he not spoke yet plain enough?

_Alith._ Yes, indeed, I should think so.

_Spark._ Well then, by the world, a man can't speak civilly to a woman now, but presently she says, he makes love to her. Nay, madam, you shall stay, with your pardon, since you have not yet understood him, till he has made an eclaircissement of his love to you, that is, what kind of love it is. Answer to thy catechism, friend; do you love my mistress here?

_Har._ Yes, I wish she would not doubt it.

_Spark._ But how do you love her?

_Har._ With all my soul.

_Alith._ I thank him, methinks he speaks plain enough now.

_Spark._ [_To_ ALITHEA.] You are out still.--But with what kind of love, Harcourt?

_Har._ With the best and the truest love in the world.

_Spark._ Look you there then, that is with no matrimonial love, I'm sure.

_Alith._ How's that? do you say matrimonial love is not best?

_Spark._ 'Gad, I went too far ere I was aware. But speak for thyself, Harcourt, you said you would not wrong me nor her.

_Har._ No, so, madam, e'en take him for Heaven's sake.

_Spark._ Look you there, madam.

_Har._ Who should in all justice be yours, he that loves you most. [_Claps his hand on his breast._

_Alith._ Look you there, Mr. Sparkish, who's that?

_Spark._ Who should it be?--Go on, Harcourt.

_Har._ Who loves you more than women titles, or fortune fools. [_Points at_ SPARKISH.

_Spark._ Look you there, he means me still, for he points at me.

_Alith._ Ridiculous!

_Har._ Who can only match your faith and constancy in love.

_Spark._ Ay.

_Har._ Who knows, if it be possible, how to value so much beauty and virtue.

_Spark._ Ay.

_Har._ Whose love can no more be equalled in the world, than that heavenly form of yours.

_Spark._ No.

_Har._ Who could no more suffer a rival, than your absence, and yet could no more suspect your virtue, than his own constancy in his love to you.

_Spark._ No.

_Har._ Who, in fine, loves you better than his eyes, that first made him love you.

_Spark._ Ay--Nay, madam, faith, you shan't go till--

_Alith._ Have a care, lest you make me stay too long.

_Spark._ But till he has saluted you; that I may be assured you are friends, after his honest advice and declaration. Come, pray, madam, be friends with him.

_Re-enter_ PINCHWIFE _and_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE.

_Alith._ You must pardon me, sir, that I am not yet so obedient to you.

_Pinch._ What, invite your wife to kiss men? Monstrous! are you not ashamed? I will never forgive you.

_Spark._ Are you not ashamed, that I should have more confidence in the chastity of your family than you have? You must not teach me, I am a man of honour, sir, though I am frank and free; I am frank, sir--

_Pinch._ Very frank, sir, to share your wife with your friends.

_Spark._ He is an humble, menial friend, such as reconciles the differences of the marriage bed; you know man and wife do not always agree; I design him for that use, therefore would have him well with my wife.

_Pinch._ A menial friend!--you will get a great many menial friends, by showing your wife as you do.

_Spark._ What then? It may be I have a pleasure in't, as I have to show fine clothes at a play-house, the first day, and count money before poor rogues.

_Pinch._ He that shows his wife or money, will be in danger of having them borrowed sometimes.

_Spark._ I love to be envied, and would not marry a wife that I alone could love; loving alone is as dull as eating alone. Is it not a frank age? and I am a frank person; and to tell you the truth, it may be, I love to have rivals in a wife, they make her seem to a man still but as a kept mistress; and so good night, for I must to Whitehall.--Madam, I hope you are now reconciled to my friend; and so I wish you a good night, madam, and sleep if you can: for to-morrow you know I must visit you early with a canonical gentleman. Good night, dear Harcourt. [_Exit._

_Har._ Madam, I hope you will not refuse my visit to-morrow, if it should be earlier with a canonical gentleman than Mr. Sparkish's.

_Pinch._ This gentlewoman is yet under my care, therefore you must yet forbear your freedom with her, sir. [_Coming between_ ALITHEA _and_ HARCOURT.

_Har._ Must, sir?

_Pinch._ Yes, sir, she is my sister.

_Har._ 'Tis well she is, sir--for I must be her servant, sir.--Madam--

_Pinch._ Come away, sister, we had been gone, if it had not been for you, and so avoided these lewd rake-hells, who seem to haunt us.

_Re-enter_ HORNER _and_ DORILANT.

_Horn._ How now, Pinchwife!

_Pinch._ Your servant.

_Horn._ What! I see a little time in the country makes a man turn wild and unsociable, and only fit to converse with his horses, dogs, and his herds.

_Pinch._ I have business, sir, and must mind it; your business is pleasure, therefore you and I must go different ways.

_Horn._ Well, you may go on, but this pretty young gentleman--[_Takes hold of Mrs._ PINCHWIFE.

_Har._ The lady--

_Dor._ And the maid--

_Horn._ Shall stay with us; for I suppose their business is the same with ours, pleasure.

_Pinch._ 'Sdeath, he knows her, she carries it so sillily! yet if he does not, I should be more silly to discover it first. [_Aside._

_Alith._ Pray, let us go, sir.

_Pinch._ Come, come--

_Horn._ [_To_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE.] Had you not rather stay with us?--Prithee, Pinchwife, who is this pretty young gentleman?

_Pinch._ One to whom I'm a guardian.--[_Aside._] I wish I could keep her out of your hands.

_Horn._ Who is he? I never saw anything so pretty in all my life.

_Pinch._ Pshaw! do not look upon him so much, he's a poor bashful youth, you'll put him out of countenance.--Come away, brother. [_Offers to take her away._

_Horn._ O, your brother!

_Pinch._ Yes, my wife's brother.--Come, come, she'll stay supper for us.

_Horn._ I thought so, for he is very like her I saw you at the play with, whom I told you I was in love with.

_Mrs. Pinch._ [_Aside._] O jeminy! is that he that was in love with me? I am glad on't, I vow, for he's a curious fine gentleman, and I love him already, too.--[_To_ PINCHWIFE.] Is this he, bud?

_Pinch._ Come away, come away. [_To his_ Wife.

_Horn._ Why, what haste are you in? why won't you let me talk with him?

_Pinch._ Because you'll debauch him; he's yet young and innocent, and I would not have him debauched for anything in the world.--[_Aside._] How she gazes on him! the devil!

_Horn._ Harcourt, Dorilant, look you here, this is the likeness of that dowdy he told us of, his wife; did you ever see a lovelier creature? The rogue has reason to be jealous of his wife, since she is like him, for she would make all that see her in love with her.

_Har._ And, as I remember now, she is as like him here as can be.

_Dor._ She is indeed very pretty, if she be like him.

_Horn._ Very pretty? a very pretty commendation!--she is a glorious creature, beautiful beyond all things I ever beheld.

_Pinch._ So, so.

_Har._ More beautiful than a poet's first mistress of imagination.

_Horn._ Or another man's last mistress of flesh and blood.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Nay, now you jeer, sir; pray don't jeer me.

_Pinch._ Come, come.--[_Aside._] By Heavens, she'll discover herself!

_Horn._ I speak of your sister, sir.

_Pinch._ Ay, but saying she was handsome, if like him, made him blush.--[_Aside._] I am upon a rack!

_Horn._ Methinks he is so handsome he should not be a man.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] O, there 'tis out! he has discovered her! I am not able to suffer any longer.--[_To his_ Wife.] Come, come away, I say.

_Horn._ Nay, by your leave, sir, he shall not go yet.--[_Aside to them._] Harcourt, Dorilant, let us torment this jealous rogue a little.

_Har. Dor._ How?

_Horn._ I'll show you.

_Pinch._ Come, pray let him go, I cannot stay fooling any longer; I tell you his sister stays supper for us.

_Horn._ Does she? Come then, we'll all go to sup with he and thee.

_Pinch._ No, now I think on't, having stayed so long for us, I warrant she's gone to bed.--[_Aside._] I wish she and I were well out of their hands.--[_To his_ Wife.] Come, I must rise early to-morrow, come.

_Horn._ Well then, if she be gone to bed, I wish her and you a good night. But pray, young gentleman, present my humble service to her.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Thank you heartily, sir.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] 'Sdeath, she will discover herself yet in spite of me--[_Aloud._] He is something more civil to you, for your kindness to his sister, than I am, it seems.

_Horn._ Tell her, dear sweet little gentleman, for all your brother there, that you have revived the love I had for her at first sight in the playhouse.

_Mrs. Pinch._ But did you love her indeed, and indeed?

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] So, so.--[_Aloud._] Away, I say.

_Horn._ Nay, stay.--Yes, indeed, and indeed, pray do you tell her so, and give her this kiss from me. [_Kisses her._

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] O Heavens! what do I suffer? Now 'tis too plain he knows her, and yet--

_Horn._ And this, and this--[_Kisses her again._

_Mrs. Pinch._ What do you kiss me for? I am no woman.

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] So, there, 'tis out.--[_Aloud._] Come, I cannot, nor will stay any longer.

_Horn._ Nay, they shall send your lady a kiss too. Here, Harcourt, Dorilant, will you not? [_They kiss her._

_Pinch._ [_Aside._] How! do I suffer this? Was I not accusing another just now for this rascally patience, in permitting his wife to be kissed before his face? Ten thousand ulcers gnaw away their lips.--[_Aloud._] Come, come.

_Horn._ Good night, dear little gentleman; madam, good night: farewell, Pinchwife.--[_Apart to_ HARCOURT _and_ DORILANT.] Did not I tell you I would raise his jealous gall? [_Exeunt_ HORNER, HARCOURT _and_ DORILANT.

_Pinch._ So, they are gone at last; stay, let me see first if the coach be at this door. [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ HORNER, HARCOURT, _and_ DORILANT.

_Horn._ What, not gone yet? Will you be sure to do as I desired you, sweet sir?

_Mrs. Pinch._ Sweet sir, but what will you give me then?

_Horn._ Anything. Come away into the next walk. [_Exit, haling away_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE.

_Alith._ Hold! hold! what d'ye do?

_Lucy._ Stay, stay, hold--

_Har._ Hold, madam, hold, let him present him--he'll come presently; nay, I will never let you go till you answer my question.

_Lucy._ For God's sake, sir, I must follow 'em. [ALITHEA _and_ LUCY, _struggling with_ HARCOURT _and_ DORILANT.

_Dor._ No, I have something to present you with too, you shan't follow them.

_Re-enter_ PINCHWIFE.

_Pinch._ Where?--how--what's become of?--gone!--whither?

_Lucy._ He's only gone with the gentleman, who will give him something, an't please your worship.

_Pinch._ Something!--give him something, with a pox!--where are they?

_Alith._ In the next walk only, brother.

_Pinch._ Only, only! where, where? [_Exit and returns presently, then goes out again._

_Har._ What's the matter with him? why so much concerned? But, dearest madam--

_Alith._ Pray let me go, sir; I have said and suffered enough already.

_Har._ Then you will not look upon, nor pity, my sufferings?

_Alith._ To look upon 'em, when I cannot help 'em, were cruelty, not pity; therefore, I will never see you more.

_Har._ Let me then, madam, have my privilege of a banished lover, complaining or railing, and giving you but a farewell reason why, if you cannot condescend to marry me, you should not take that wretch, my rival.

_Alith._ He only, not you, since my honour is engaged so far to him, can give me a reason why I should not marry him; but if he be true, and what I think him to me, I must be so to him. Your servant, sir.

_Har._ Have women only constancy when 'tis a vice, and are, like Fortune, only true to fools?

_Dor._ Thou sha't not stir, thou robust creature; you see I can deal with you, therefore you should stay the rather, and be kind. [_To_ LUCY, _who struggles to get from him._

_Re-enter_ PINCHWIFE.

_Pinch._ Gone, gone, not to be found! quite gone! ten thousand plagues go with 'em! Which way went they?

_Alith._ But into t'other walk, brother.

_Lucy._ Their business will be done presently sure, an't please your worship; it can't be long in doing, I'm sure on't.

_Alith._ Are they not there?

_Pinch._ No, you know where they are, you infamous wretch, eternal shame of your family, which you do not dishonour enough yourself you think, but you must help her to do it too, thou legion of bawds!

_Alith._ Good brother--

_Pinch._ Damned, damned sister!

_Alith._ Look you here, she's coming.

_Re-enter_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE _running, with her hat full of oranges and dried fruit under her arm,_ HORNER _following._

_Mrs. Pinch._ O dear bud, look you here what I have got, see!

_Pinch._ And what I have got here too, which you can't see! [_Aside, rubbing his forehead._

_Mrs. Pinch._ The fine gentleman has given me better things yet.

_Pinch._ Has he so?--[_Aside._] Out of breath and coloured!--I must hold yet.

_Horn._ I have only given your little brother an orange, sir.

_Pinch. [To_ HORNER.] Thank you, sir.--[_Aside._] You have only squeezed my orange, I suppose, and given it me again; yet I must have a city patience.--[_To his_ Wife.] Come, come away.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Stay, till I have put up my fine things, bud.

_Enter_ Sir JASPER FIDGET.

_Sir Jasp._ O, Master Horner, come, come, the ladies stay for you; your mistress, my wife, wonders you make not more haste to her.

_Horn._ I have stayed this half hour for you here, and 'tis your fault I am not now with your wife.

_Sir Jasp._ But, pray, don't let her know so much; the truth on't is, I was advancing a certain project to his majesty about--I'll tell you.

_Horn._ No, let's go, and hear it at your house. Good night, sweet little gentleman; one kiss more, you'll remember me now, I hope. [_Kisses her._

_Dor._ What, Sir Jasper, will you separate friends? He promised to sup with us, and if you take him to your house, you'll be in danger of our company too.

_Sir Jasp._ Alas! gentlemen, my house is not fit for you; there are none but civil women there, which are not for your turn. He, you know, can bear with the society of civil women now, ha! ha! ha! besides, he's one of my family--he's--he! he! he!

_Dor._ What is he?

_Sir Jasp._ Faith, my eunuch, since you'll have it; he! he! he! [_Exeunt_ Sir JASPER FIDGET _and_ HORNER.

_Dor._ I rather wish thou wert his or my cuckold. Harcourt, what a good cuckold is lost there for want of a man to make him one? Thee and I cannot have Horner's privilege, who can make use of it.

_Har._ Ay, to poor Horner 'tis like coming to an estate at threescore, when a man can't be the better for't.

_Pinch._ Come.

_Mrs. Pinch._ Presently, bud.

_Dor._ Come, let us go too.--[_To_ ALITHEA.] Madam, your servant.--[_To_ LUCY.] Good night, strapper.

_Har._ Madam, though you will not let me have a good day or night, I wish you one; but dare not name the other half of my wish.

_Alith._ Good night, sir, for ever.

_Mrs. Pinch._ I don't know where to put this here, dear bud, you shall eat it; nay, you shall have part of the fine gentleman's good things, or treat, as you call it, when we come home.

_Pinch._ Indeed, I deserve it, since I furnished the best part of it. [_Strikes away the orange._

The gallant treats presents, and gives the ball; But 'tis the absent cuckold pays for all.

[_Exeunt._

ACT THE FOURTH.