Lady. O rogue, fcoundrel, villain !

Sir John. Remember modesty.

Lady. I'll rout you all with a vengeance-' I'll spoil your fqueeking treble.

[Beats the fiddle about the blind man's head.

' Fid. O murder, murder! I am a dark man-which way fhall I get hence!-O heav'n, fhe has broke my 'fiddle, and undone me and my wife and children.

6

'Sir John. Here, poor fellow, take your staff and be< gone: there's money to buy you two fuch: that's your [Exit Fiddler. 'Lady. Methinks you are very liberal, Sir; must my 'eftate maintain you in your profuseness ?"

way.

Sir John. Go up to your closet, pray, and compofe your mind.

Lady. O wicked man! to bid me pray.

Sir John. A man can't be completely curft, I fee, without marriage; but fince there is fuch a thing as feparate maintenance, fhe fhall to-morrow enjoy the benefit of it.

AIR V. Of all comforts I mifcarry'd.
Of the ftates in life fo various,
Marriage, fure, 's most precarious
'Tis a maze fo ftrangely winding,
Still we are new mazes finding:
'Tis an action fo fevere,

That nought but death can fet us clear.
Happy's the man, from wedlock free,
Who knows to prize his liberty.

Were men wary

How they marry.

We should not be by half fo full of mifery.

[Knocking at the door. Here, where are my farvants? Muft they be frighted from me?-Within there-see who knocks.

Lady. Within there-Where are my fluts? Ye drabs, ye queans-lights there.

:

Enter Servants, sneaking, with candles. But. Sir, it is a doctor that lives ten miles off he practises phyfic, and is an astrologer; your worship knows

him very well; he is a cunning man, makes almanacks, and can help people to their goods again.

Enter Doctor.

Doct. Sir, I humbly beg your honour's pardon for this unfeasonable intrufion; but I am benighted, and 'tis fo dark that I can't poffibly find my way home; and knowing your worship's hofpitality, defire the favour to be harbour'd under your roof to-night.

Lady. Out of my house, you lewd conjurer, you magician.

Doct. Here's a turn! here's a change! I have any art, you shall smart for this.

-Well, if [Afide.

Sir John. You fee, friend, I am not master of my own houfe: therefore, to avoid any uneafinefs, go down the la le about a quarter of a mile, and you'll fee a cobler's cottage; ftay there a little, and I'll fend my fervant to conduct you to a tenant's house, where you'll be well entertain'd.

Doct. I thank you, Sir; I'm your most humble fervant-But as for your lady there, fhe fhall this night feel my refentment. [Exit. Sir John. Come, madam, you and I must have fome conference together.

Lady. Yes; I will have a conference and a reformation too in this house, or I'll turn it upfide down-I will.

AIR VI. Contented country farmer.

Sir John. Grant me, ye pow'rs, but this request,
And let who will the world conteft;
Convey her to some distant shore,

Where I may ne'er behold her more;
Or let me to fome cottage fly,

In freedom's arms to live and die.

SCENE, The Cobler's.

Nell and the Doctor.

[Exeunt.

Nell. Pray, Sir, mend your draught, if you pleale: you are very welcome, Sir.

Doct. Thank you heartily, good woman; and to requite your civility, I'll tell you your fortune.

Nell.

Nell. O pray do, Sir, I never had my fortune told me in my life.

Doct. Let me behold the lines of your face.

Nell. I'm afraid, Sir, 'tis nore of the cleanest, I have been about dirty work all this day.

Doct. Come, come, 'tis a good face; be not asham'd ôf it; you shall fhew it in greater places fuddenly.

Nell. O dear, Sir, I fhall be mightily asham'd; I want dacity when I come before great folks.

Doct. You must be confident, and fear nothing; there is much happiness attends you.

Nell. Oh me! this is a rare man: Heav'n be thank'd Doct. To-morrow before the fun-rife, you shall be the happiest woman in this country.

Nell. How, by to-morrow!-Alack-a-day, Sir, how can that be?

Doct. No more fhall you be troubled with a furly hufband that rails at and ftraps you.

Nell. Lud, how came he to know that? he must be a conjurer. Indeed my husband is fomewhat rugged, and in his cups will beat me, but it is not much; he's an honet pains-taking man, and I let him have his way. Pray Sir, take t'other cup of ale.

Doct. I thank you Believe me, to morrow you fhall be the richest woman i'th' hundred, and ride in own coach.

your

But mark my words; be

confident, and bear all out, or worse will follow.

Nell. Never fear, Sir, I warrant you.- -O Gemeni!

a coach!

AIR VII. Send home my long-fray'd eyes.

My fwelling heart now leaps for joy,
And riches all my thoughts employ;
No more fhall people call me Nell,
Her ladyship will do as well:
Deck'd in my golden rich array,
I'll in my chariot roll

away,

And fhine at ring, at ball, and play.

}

Enter

Enter Jobfon.

Job. Where is this quean? Here, Nell! what a pox, are you drunk with your lamb's wool?

Nell. O husband! here's the rarest man-he has told fortune.

me my

Job. Has he fo! and planted my fortune too, a lufty pair of horns upon my head-Eh-is't not fo?

Doct. Thy wife is a virtuous woman, and thou'lt be happy

Job. Come out, you hang-dog, you juggler, you cheating, bamboozling villain! muft I be cuckolded by rogues as you are, mathematicians and almanackmakers!

fuch

Nell. Pr'ythee peace, husband, we shall be rich, and haye a coach of our own.

Job. A coach! a cart, a wheel-barrow, you jadeby the mackin, he's drunk, bloody drunk, most con foundedly drunk.Get you to bed, you ftrumpet.

[Beats her.

Nell. O mercy on us! is this a taste of my good for

tune?

Doct. You had better not have touch'd her, you furly rogue.

Job. Out of my house, you villain, or I'll run my

up to the handle in your buttocks.

Doct. Farewell, you paltry flave..

Job. Get out, you rogue.

SCENE, Changes to an open country.
Doctor folus.

awl

[Exeunt.

AIR VIII. The Spirit's fang in Macbeth.
My little fpirits, now appear;
Nadir and Abishag, draw near.

• The time is short, make no delay;
Then quickly hafte and come away:
Nor moon nor ftars afford their light,
But all is wrapt in gloomy night:
Both men and beafts to rest incline,
And all things favour my defign.
Spirits within.) Say, mafter, what is to be done?
My ftrict commands be fure attend;
For e'er this night shall have an end,
D

VOL. II.

You

6

You must this cobler's wife transform,
And to the knight's the like perform:
With all your moift specific charms,
Convey each wife to diff'rent arms;
Let the delufion be so strong,

That none may know the right from wrong. (Within.) All this we will with care perform, In thunder, light'ning, and a storm.'

SCENE Changes to the Cobler's house.

Jobfon at work. The bed in view.

[Thunder.

Job. What devil has been abroad to-night? I never heard fuch claps of thunder in my life. I thought my little hovel would have flown away; but now all is clear again, and a fine ftar-light morning it is. I'll fettle myfelf to work. They fay winter's thunder is fummer's wonder.

AIR IX. Charming Sally.
Of all the trades from east to west,
The cobler's paft contending,
Is like in time to prove the best,.
Which ev'ry day is mending.
How great his praise who can amend
The foals of all his neighbours;
Nor is unmindful of his end,

But to his last still labours!

Lady. Heyday! what impudent ballad-finging rogue is that, who dares wake me out of my fleep? I'll have you flea'd, you rascal.

Job. What a pox, does she talk in her fleep? or is she drunk ftill?

[Sings.

AIR X. Now ponder well, ye parents dear.

I.

In Bath, a wanton wife did dwell,

As Chaucer he did write,

Who wantonly did spend her time
In many a fond delight.
All on a time fo fick fhe was,
And fhe at length did die,

And