Instant; for there's a plot against my life; they have resolved to tease me to death to-night, that they may break the match to-morrow morning. Marry her this instant, I entreat you. Esop. This instant, say you!

Lear. This instant; this very instant.

Esop. 'Tis enough; get all things ready; I'll be with you in a moment. [Exit.

Lear. Now, what say you, Mr. Flamefire? I hall have the whiphand of you presently. Oron. Defer it but till to-morrow, sir.

Lear. That you may run away with her to-night; ba?-Sir, your most obedient, humble servant.Hey, who waits there?

ve now.

Oron. Have you no bowels? Lear. Ha ha! bowels in a parent; here's a ang fellow for you! - Hark thee, stripling; ing in a very merry humour, I don't care if I scover some paternal secrets to thee. Know en, that how humoursome, how whimsical soever may appear, there's one fixed principle that ns through almost the whole race of us; and at's to please ourselves. Why dost think I got daughter? Why, there was something in't it pleased me. Why dost think I marry my ughter? Why to please myself still. And what tthat pleases me? Why, my interest; what st think it should be? If Æsop's my son-int, he'll make me a lord: if thou art my son-in, thou'lt make me a grandfather. Now I having re mind to be a lord than a grandfather, give daughter to him, and not to thee.

Oron. Then shall her happiness weigh nothing h you?

Lear. Not this. If it did, I'd give her to thee, & not to him.

Oron. Do you think forced marriage the way to ep women virtuous ?

Lear. No; nor I don't care whether women are tuous or not.

Oron. You know your daughter loves me.
Lear. I do so.

Oron. What if the children that Æsop may
ppen to father should chance to be begot by me?
Lear. Why, then Æsop would be the cuckold, not I.
Oron. Is that all your care?

Lear. Yes: I speak as a father.

Oron. What think you of your child's concern t'other world?

Lear. [Singing.]

[Exeunt Servants with ORONCES.

Dol, de tol dol, dol dol, de tol dol:
Lilly Burleighre's lodged in a bough.

Enter a Troop of Musicians, Dancers, &c.

Lear. How now! what have we got here? Mus. Sir, we are a troop of trifling fellows, fiddlers and dancers, come to celebrate the wedding of your fair daughter, if your honour pleases to give us leave.

Lear. With all my heart: but who do you take me for, sir; ha?

Mus. I take your honour for our noble governor of Cyzicus.

Lear. Governor of Cyzicus! Governor of a cheese-cake! I'm father-in-law to the great Æsop, sirrah.—[All bow to him.]—[Aside.] I shall be a great man.n.-[Aloud.] Come, tune your fiddles; shake your legs; get all things ready. My son-inlaw will be here presently.-I shall be a great man. [Exit.

1 Mus. A great marriage, brother: what dost think will be the end on't?

2 Mus. Why, I believe we shall see three turns upon't. This old fellow here will turn fool; his daughter will turn strumpet; and his son-in-law will turn 'em both out of doors. But that's nothing to thee nor me, as long as we are paid for our fiddling. So tune away, gentlemen.

1 Mus. D'ye hear, trumpets, when the bride appears, salute her with a melancholy waft. "Twill suit her humour; for I guess she mayn't be overwell pleased.

Re-enter LEARCHUS with several Gentlemen, and a Priest.

Lear. Gentlemen and friends, y'are all welcome. I have sent to as many of you as our short time would give me leave, to desire you would be witnesses of the honour the great Æsop designs ourself and family.-Hey; who attends there?

Enter Servant.

Go let my daughter know I wait for her.-[Exit Servant.] "Tis a vast honour that is done me, gentlemen.

Gent. It is indeed, my lord.

Lear. [Aside.] Look you there; if they don't call me my lord already-I shall be a great man.

CC

Re-enter EUPHRONIA weeping, and leaning upon DORIS, both in deep mourning.

Lear. How now! what's here? all in deep mourning!-Here's a provoking baggage for you. [The trumpets sound a melancholy air till Æsop appears; and then the violins and hautboys strike up a Lancashire hornpipe.

Re-enter Esop in a gay foppish dress, long peruke, &c., a gaudy equipage of Pages and Footmen, all enter in an airy brisk manner.

Esop. [In an affected tone to EUPHRONIA.] Gad take my soul, mame, I hope I shall please you now!-Gentlemen all, I'm your humble servant. I'm going to be a very happy man, you see.-[To EUPHRONIA.] When the heat of the ceremony's over, if your ladyship pleases, mame, I'll wait upon you to take the air in the Park.-Hey, page; let there be a coach and six horses ready instantly.[Observing her dress.] I vow to Gad, mame, I was so taken up with my good fortune, I did not observe the extreme fancy of your ladyship's wedding-clothes !-Infinitely pretty, as I hope to be saved! a world of variety, and not at all gaudy! -[TO LEARCHUS.] My dear father-in-law, embrace me.

Lear. Your lordship does me too much honour. -[Aside.] I shall be a great man.

Esop. Come, gentlemen, are all things ready? Where's the priest?

Priest. Here, my noble lord.

Æsop. Most reverend, will you please to say grace that I may fall to, for I'm very hungry, and here's very good meat.-But where's my rival all this while? The least we can do, is to invite him to the wedding.

Lear. My lord, he's in prison.

Esop. In prison! how so!

Lear. He would have murdered me.

Esop. A bloody fellow! But let's see him how

ever.

Send for him quickly. Ha, governor, that handsome daughter of yours, I will so mumble her!

Lear. I shall be a great man.

Re-enter ORONCES, pinioned and guarded. Esop. O ho, here's my rival! Then we have all we want.-Advance, sir, if you please. I desire you'll do me the favour to be a witness to my marriage, lest one of these days you should take a fancy to dispute my wife with me.

Oron. Do you then send for me to insult me? "Tis base in you.

Esop. I have no time now to throw away upon points of generosity; I have hotter work upon my hands.-Come, priest, advance.

Lear. Pray hold him fast there; he has the devil and all of mischief in's eye.

Esop. [To EUPHRONIA.] Will your ladyship please, mame, to give me your fair hand.-Heyday! [She refuses her hand. Lear. I'll give it you, my noble lord, if she won't.-[Aside.] A stubborn, self-willed, stiffnecked strumpet!

[LEARCHUS holds out her hand to Æsop, who takes it ; ORONCES stands on Æsop's left hand, and the Priest before them.

Æsop. Let my rival stand next me: of all men I'd have him be satisfied.

Oron. Barbarous inhuman monster!
Esop. Now, priest, do thy office.

[Flourish with the trumpets.

Priest. Since the eternal laws of fate decree,
That he thy husband, she thy wife, should be,
May heaven take you to its care,
May Jupiter look kindly down,

Place on your heads contentment's crown;
And may his godhead never frown
Upon this happy pair.

[Flourish again of trumpets. As the Priest pr
nounces the last line, ESOP joins ORONCES and
EUPHRONIA's hands.

Oron. O happy change! Blessings on blessings wait on the generous Esop.

Esop. Happy, thrice happy may you ever be, And if you think there's something due to me, Pay it in mutual love and constancy.

Euph. [To Æsop.] You'll pardon me, most gene If in the present transports of my soul, [rous ma Which you yourself have by your bounty caused, My willing tongue is tied from uttering The thoughts that flow from a most grateful heart Esop. For what I've done I merit little tharks Since what I've done, my duty bound me to. I would your father had acquitted his: But he who's such a tyrant o'er his children To sacrifice their peace to his ambition, Is fit to govern nothing but himself. And therefore, sir, at my return to court

[TO LEARCHE

I shall take care this city may be sway'd
By more humanity than dwells in you.
Lear. [Aside.] I shall be a great man.
Euph. [To ESOP.] Had I not reason, frot
your constant goodness,

To judge your bounty, sir, is infinite,

I should not dare to sue for farther favours:
But pardon me, if imitating Heaven and you,
I easily forgive my aged father,

And beg that Esop would forgive him too.
[Kneeling to hit
Esop. The injury he would have done to you
Was great indeed :

But 'twas a blessing he design'd for me.
If therefore you can pardon him, I may.
Your injured daughter, sir, has on her knees
[TO LEARCH

Entreated for her cruel barbarous father;
And by her goodness has obtained her suit.
If in the remnant of your days you can find ou
some way to recompense her, do it, that men an
gods may pardon you, as she and I have done.-
But let me see, I have one quarrel still to make u
Where's my old friend Doris ?

Dor. She's here, sir, at your service; and much your friend as ever: true to her principles and firm to her mistress. But she has a much bette opinion of you now than she had half an hour ag

Esop. She has reason for my soul appear then as deformed as my body. But I hope ni one may so far mediate for t'other, that provid I don't make love, the women won't quarrel w me; for they are worse enemies even than they ar friends.-Come, gentlemen, I'll humour my dress a little longer, and share with you in the diverse these boon companions have prepared us. Let take our places, and see how they can divert us. [Esop leads EUPHRONIA to her place. All being 805"

there follows a short concert of hautboys, trumat, &c. After which a dance between an Old Man esce Young Woman, who shuns him still as he comes tha her. At last he stops, and begins this dialogue, tả. ↑ they sing together.

Woman.

Winter, begone!

Behold, the youthful Spring comes gaily on.
Here, here's a torch to light a virgin's fire!
To my arms, my love, my joy!

Then women have what they desire,

They're neither cold nor coy.

(She takes him in her arms. The song and dance ended, ESOP takes EUPHRONIA and ORONCES by the hands, leading them forwards.

Esop. By this time, my young eager couple, 'tis chable you would be glad to be alone; perhaps on have a mind to go to bed even without your upper; for brides and bridegrooms eat little on heir wedding-night. But since if matrimony were form as it ought to be, it would perhaps sit easier bout us than usually it does, I'll give you one Ford of counsel, and so I shall release you. When ne is out of humour, let the other be dumb. Let bar diversions be such as both may have a share 'em. Never let familiarity exclude respect. Be lean in your clothes, but nicely so in your persons. dat at one table, lie in one room, but sleep in two eds: I'll tell the ladies why.—

[Turning to the boxes.

In the sprightly month of May,
When males and females sport and play,
And kiss and toy away the day;
An eager sparrow and his mate,
Chirping on a tree were sate,
Full of love-and full of prate.

They talk'd of nothing but their fires,
Of raging heats and strong desires,
Of eternal constancy;

How true and faithful they would be,
Of this and that, and endless joys,
And a thousand more such toys:
The only thing they apprehended,
Was that their lives would be so short,
They could not finish half their sport
Before their days were ended.

But as from bough to bough they rove,
They chanced at last

In furious haste,

On a twig with birdlime spread, (Want of a more downy bed)

To act a scene of love.

Fatal it proved to both their fires.
For though at length they broke away,
And balk'd the schoolboy of his prey,
Which made him weep the livelong day,
The bridegroom in the hasty strife,
Was stuck so fast to his dear wife,
That though he used his utmost art,
He quickly found it was in vain,
To put himself to further pain,
They never more must part.

A gloomy shade o'ercast his brow;
He found himself-I know not how:
He look'd-as husbands often do.
Where'er he moved he felt her still,
She kiss'd him oft against his will:
Abroad, at home, at bed and board,
With favours she o'erwhelm'd her lord.
Oft he turn'd his head away,
And seldom had a word to say.
Which absolutely spoil'd her play,
For she was better stored.
Howe'er at length her stock was spent,
(For female fires sometimes may be
Subject to mortality ;)

So back to back they sit and sullenly repent.
But the mute scene was quickly ended,
The lady, for her share, pretended
The want of love lay at his door;
For her part she had still in store
Enough for him and twenty more,
Which could not be contented.
He answer'd her in homely words,
(For sparrows are but ill-bred birds,)
That he already had enjoy'd

So much, that truly he was cloy'd.
Which so provoked her spleen,
That after some good hearty prayers,
A jostle, and some spiteful tears,
They fell together by the ears,
And ne'er were fond again.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE I.

Osop. Patentees! prithee, what are they? Play. Why, they are, sir-sir, they are-cod, I don't know what they are!-fish or flesh-masters or servants :-sometimes one-sometimes t'other, I think-just as we are in the mood.

Esop. Why, I thought they had a lawful authority over you.

Play. Lawful authority, sir!-sir, we are freeborn Englishmen, we care not for law nor authority neither, when we are out of humour.

Esop. But I think they pretended at least to an authority over you; pray upon what foundation was it built?

Play. Upon a rotten one-if you'll believe us. Sir, I'll tell you what the projectors did they embarked twenty thousand pound upon a leaky vessel. She was built at Whitehall; I think they called her the Patent-ay, the Patent: her keel was made of a broad seal-and the king gave them a white staff for their mainmast. She was a pretty tight frigate to look upon, indeed they spared nothing to set her off; they gilded her, and painted her, and rigged, and gunned her; and so sent her a-privateering. But the first storm that blew, down went the mast! ashore went the ship!Crack! says the keel :-Mercy! cried the pilot; but the wind was so high, his prayers could not be heard so they split upon a rock-that lay hid under a petticoat.

Esop. A very sad story, this: but what became of the ship's company?

Play. Why, sir, your humble servants here, who were the officers, and the best of the sailors-(little Ben amongst the rest) seized on a small bark that lay to our hand, and away we put to sea again. To say the truth, we were better manned than rigged, and ammunition was plaguy scarce amongst us. However, a-cruising we went, and some petty small prizes we have made; but the blessing of heaven not being among us-or how the devil 'tis, I can't tell; but we are not rich.

Esop. Well, but what became of the rest of the

crew?

Play. Why, sir, as for the scoundrels, they, pot dogs, stuck by the wreck. The captain gave them bread and cheese, and good words. He to them if they would patch her up, and vente t'other cruise, he'd prefer 'em all; so to work they went, and to sea they got her.

Æsop. I hope he kept his word with 'em.

Play. That he did; he made the boatswain's mate lieutenant; he made the cook doctor; he was forced to be purser, and pilot, and gunner himse and the swabber took orders to be chaplain.

Esop. But with such unskilful officers, I' afraid, they'll hardly keep above water long.

Play. Why, truly, sir, we care not how so they are under: but cursed folks thrive, I thirs I know nothing else that makes 'em swim. I' sure, by the rules of navigation, they ought to har overset long since; for they carry a great deal e sail, and have very little ballast.

Esop. I'm afraid you ruin one another. I fe if you were all in a ship together again, you'd ha less work and more profit.

Play. Ah, sir-we are resolved we'll never sa under captain Patentee again.

Esop. Prithee, why so?

Play. Sir, he has used us like dogs.

Wom. And bitches too, sir.

Æsop. I'm sorry to hear that; pray how he treated you?

Play. Sir, 'tis impossible to tell; he use like the English at Amboyna.

Æsop. But I would know some particulars; t me what 'twas he did to you.

Play. What he did, sir!-why, he did in first place, sir-in the first place, sir, he did-e I don't know what he did.-Can you tell, wife? Wom. Yes, marry can I; and a burning sha it was too.

Play. Oh, I remember now, sir, he would give us plums enough in our pudding.

Esop. That indeed was very hard; but did! give you as many as he promised you?

Play. Yes, and more; but what of all that had not as many as we had a mind to.

1 Wom. Sir, my husband tells you truth. Esop. I believe he may. But what ot wrongs did he do you?

1 Wom. Why, sir, he did not treat me v respect; 'twas not one day in three he would much as bid me good-morrow.

2 Wom. Sir, he invited me to dinner, and n drank my health.

1 Wom. Then he cocked his hat at Mrs. Pert.

2 Wom. Yes, and told Mrs. Slippery he had as good a face as she had.

Esop. Why, these were insufferable abuses!

2 Play. Then, sir, I did but come to him one day, and tell him I wanted fifty pound, and what do you think he did by me, sir-sir, he turned round upon his heel like a top

1 Play. But that was nothing to the affront he put upon me, sir. I came to him, and in very civil words, as I thought, desired him to double my pay: sir, would you believe it? he had the barbarity to ask me if I intended to double my work; and because I told him no, sir-he did use megood Lord, how he did use me!

Esop. Prithee how?

1 Play. Why, he walked off, and answered me never a word.

Esop. How had you patience?

1 Play. Sir, I had not patience. I sent him a challenge; and what do you think his answer was? -he sent me word I was a scoundrel son of a whore, and he would only fight me by proxy! Esop. Very fine!

1 Play. At this rate, sir, were we poor dogs sed-till one frosty morning down he comes mongst us-and very roundly tells us that for be future, no purchase no pay. They that would hot work should not eat.-Sir, we at first asked im coolly and civilly, Why? His answer was, ecause the town wanted diversion, and he wanted oney. Our reply to this, sir, was very short; at I think to the purpose.

Esop. What was it?

1 Play. It was, sir, that so we wallowed in lenty and ease the town and he might be damned! his, sir, is the true history of separation-and we ope you'll stand our friend.

Esop. I'll tell you what, sirs

I once a pack of beagles knew

That much resembled-I know who;
With a good huntsman at their tail,
In full command,

With whip in hand,

They'd run apace

The cheerful chace,

And of their game were seldom known to fail.

But, being at length their chance to find

A huntsman of a gentler kind,

They soon perceived the rein was slack,

The word went quickly through the pack-
They one and all cried "Liberty!

This happy moment we are free,
We'll range the woods,

Like nymphs and gods,

And spend our mouths in praise of mutiny."
With that old Jowler trots away,
And Bowman singles out his prey; ̧
Thunder bellow'd through the wood,
And swore he'd burst his guts with blood.
Venus tripp'd it o'er the plain,

With boundless hopes of boundless gain.
Juno, she slipp'd down the hedge,
But left her sacred word for pledge;
That all she pick'd up by-the-by
Should to the public treasury.
And well they might rely upon her;
For Juno was a bitch of honour.

In short they all had hopes to see
A heavenly crop of mutiny,
And so to reaping fell:

But in a little time they found,
It was the devil had till'd the ground,
And brought the seed from hell.
The pack divided, nothing throve:
Discord seized the throne of love.
Want and misery all endure.
All take pains, and all grow poor.
When they had toil'd the livelong day,
And came at night to view their prey,
Oft, alas! so ill they sped,

That half went supperless to bed.
At length, they all in council sate,
Where at a very fair debate,
It was agreed at last,

That slavery with ease and plenty,
When hounds were something turn'd of twenty
Was much a better fate,

Than 'twas to work and fast.

1 Play. Well, sir-and what did they do then? Esop. Why, they all went home to their kennel again. If you think they did wisely, you'll do well to follow their example. [Exit.

1 Play. Well, beagles, what think you of the little gentleman's advice?

2 Wom. I think he's a little ugly philosopher, and talks like a fool.

1 Play. Ah, why, there's it now! If he had been a tall, handsome blockhead, he had talked like a wise man.

2 Wom. Why, do you think, Mr. Jowler, that we'll ever join again?

1 Play. I do think, sweet Mrs. Juno, that if we do not join again, you must be a little freer of your carcass than you are, or you must bring down your pride to a serge petticoat.

1 Wom. And do you think, sir, after the affronts I have received, the patent and I can ever be friends?

1 Play. I do think, madam, that if my interest had not been more affronted than your face, the patent and you had never been foes.

1 Wom. And so, sir, then you have serious thoughts of a reconciliation?

1 Play. Madam, I do believe I may.

1 Wom. Why then, sir, give me leave to tell you, that make it my interest, and I'll have serious thoughts on't too.

2 Wom. Nay, if you are thereabouts, I desire to come into the treaty.

3 Play. And I.

4 Play. And I.

2 Play. And I. No separate peace; none of your Turin play, I beseech you.

1 Play. Why then, since you are all so christianly disposed, I think we had best adjourn immediately to our council-chamber; choose some potent prince for mediator and guarantee; fix upon the place of treaty, despatch our plenipos, and whip up the peace like an oyster. For under the rose, my confederates, here is such a damned discount upon our bills, I'm afraid, if we stand it out another campaign, we must live upon slender subsistence.

Exeunt.