Volume I Part 61 (1/2)

_Feth._ To fight away a couple of such hopeful Monsters, and two Millions-- 'owns, was ever Valour so improvident?

_Blunt._ Your fighting made me mistake: for who the Pox wou'd have look'd for _Nicholas Fetherfool_ in the person of a Hero?

_Feth._ Fight, 'Sbud, a Million of Money wou'd have provok'd a Bully; besides, I took you for the d.a.m.n'd Rogue my Rival.

_Blunt._ Just as I had finish'd my Serenade, and had put up my Pipes to be gone, out stalk'd me your two-handed Lady, with a Man at her Girdle like a bunch of Keys, whom I taking for nothing less than some one who had some foul design upon the Gentlewoman, like a true Knight-Errant, did my best to rescue her.

_Feth._ Yes, yes, I feel you did, a Pox of your heavy hand.

_Blunt._ So whilst we two were lovingly cuffing each other, comes the Rival, I suppose, and carries off the Prize.

_Feth._ Who must be Seignior _Lucifer_ himself, he cou'd never have vanisht with that Celerity else with such a Carriage-- But come, all we have to do is to raise the Mountebank and the Guardian, pursue the Rogues, have 'em hang'd by Law, for a Rape, and Theft, and then we stand fair again.

_Blunt._ Faith, you may, if you please, but Fortune has provided otherwise for me.

[Aside.

[Ex. _Blu._ and _Feth._

Enter _Beaumond_ and _Ariadne_.

_Beau._ Sure none lives here, or Thieves are broken in, the Doors are all left open.

_Aria._ Pray Heaven this Stranger prove but honest now. [Aside.

_Beau._ Now, my dear Creature, every thing conspires to make us happy, let us not defer it.

_Aria._ Hold, dear Captain, I yield but on Conditions, which are these-- I give you up a Maid of Youth and Beauty, ten thousand Pound in ready Jewels here-- three times the value in Estate to come, of which here be the Writings, you delivering me a handsom proper fellow, Heart-whole and sound, that's all-- your Name I ask not till the Priest declare it, who is to seal the Bargain. I cannot deceive, for I let you know I am Daughter-in-law to the _English_ Amba.s.sador.

_Beau._ _Ariadne!_-- How vain is all Man's Industry and Care To make himself accomplish'd; When the gay fluttering Fool, or the half-witted rough unmanner'd Brute, Who in plain terms comes right down to the business, Out-rivals him in all his Love and Fortunes. [Aside.

_Aria._ Methinks you cool upon't, Captain.

_Beau._ Yes, _Ariadne_.

_Aria._ _Beaumond!_

_Beau._ Oh what a World of Time have I mispent for want of being a Blockhead-- 'Sdeath and h.e.l.l, Wou'd I had been some brawny ruffling Fool, Some forward impudent unthinking Sloven, A Woman's Tool; for all besides unmanageable.

Come, swear that all this while you thought 'twas I.

The Devil has taught ye Tricks to bring your Falshood off.

_Aria._ Know 'twas you! no, Faith, I took you for as errant a right-down Captain as ever Woman wisht for; and 'twas uncivil egad, to undeceive me, I tell you that now.

Enter _Willmore_ and _La Nuche_ by dark.

_Will._ Thou art all Charms, a Heaven of Sweets all over, plump smooth round Limbs, small rising b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a Bosom soft and panting-- I long to wound each Sense. Lights there-- who waits?-- there yet remains a Pleasure unpossest, the sight of that dear Face-- Lights there-- where are my Vermin?

[Ex. _Will._

_Aria._ My Captain with a Woman-- and is it so--