_Enter two Boys, one with a Child in his Arms._ Compass _on the other
side._
_1 Boy._ _Jack_, Who's this?
_2 Boy._ O _Jeminy_! I'll be hang'd if it ben't Goodman _Compass_, that
they said was dead three Years ago.
_1 Boy._ Od's Life, and so it is!
_Comp._ O _London_! sweet _London_! Do I live to see thee once again? My
Eyes are full of Brine for Joy. And if my dear _Peggy_ be but living
still, I shall cry 'em out.
_1 Boy._ Goodman _Compass_, I am glad to see you; You are welcome home.
_Comp._ Thank you, good Lad: Honest _Jack_ here too? Why, thou art grown
a little Man since I saw thee last: What, is that thy own, heh?
_2 Boy._ I am fain to keep it, you see, whoever got it; it may be other
Mens Cases as well as mine.
_Comp._ Thou say'st true _Jack_: But whose pretty Knave is it?
_2 Boy._ My Dame's where I live.
_Comp._ And not thy Master's?
_2 Boy._ Nay, nay, I can't tell that neither: My Master loves it as well
as if it were his own, and for ought I see better than my Dame.
_Comp._ A very good Lad by my Troth!
_2 Boy._ But, Goodman _Compass_, I can tell you News, Your Wife has a
brave Boy too of her own, not above a Quarter old, as big as two of
this.
_Comp._ Ha! say'st thou so, _Jack_? Ha, ha, ha, by my Troth I am
heartily glad to hear it: I'll give thee a dozen of Ale, and thy News be
true, Boy.
_1 Boy._ I assure you 'tis very true: All your Neighbours can tell you
the same.
_Comp._ Ha, ha, ha! But a Quarter old, and so lusty, say you? What
plaguy thundering Boys are got now-a-days: I Gad, I shall split my Sides
with Laughing; Ha, ha, ha.--But _Jack_, I have been loth to ask thee all
this while, for fear of ill News, how does my Wife?
_2 Boy._ O never better, nor ever so lusty and handsome--And truly she
wears better Clothes than she was wont, especially on Holy-days: she has
Silk-Gowns, and Lac'd-Petticoats, and fine _Holland_-Smocks too, they
say, that have seen 'em: And some of our Neighbours say, they were taken
up in _Cheap_.
_Comp._ Like enough, _Jack_; and there they must be paid for--Well, good
Lads, go and tell my Wife the joyful Tidings of my Return.
_2 Boy._ That I will with all my Heart, for she heard you were dead long
ago.
_1 Boy._ Nay, I'll go along with you _Jack_.
_2 Boy._ Come then.
[_Exeunt 2 Boys._
_Comp._ Well, _Peggy_, if I am one of the Livery, I thank thee for it:
The Cuckolds are the greatest Company in all the City: And we have more
Aldermen among us, than all the other put them together.
_Enter_ Peg, Compass_'s Wife._
_Peg._ O my dear sweet Honey-suckle! Art thou alive? I am glad to see
thee with all my Heart and Soul, so I am.
[_Runs and kisses him._]
_Comp._ O, ho! good Spouse, give me leave to shed a few pearly Tears;
the Fountain of Love will have its Course: And tho I cannot Sing at
first sight, yet I can Cry you see. I am as it were new come into the
World; and Children Cry before they Laugh, a long time you know.
_Peg._ Yes; and so thou art new born indeed to me, my _Numpy_; for I was
told you were dead long since, and never thought to see this dear sweet
Face of thine again: I heard thou wert div'd to the bottom of the Sea,
and that you never did intend to see poor _Peggy_ more.
_Comp._ He, he, he, I was going down, as you say _Peg_, but I thought
better on't, and turn'd back: I heard an ill Report of my Neighbours
there; the devouring Sharks, and other Sea-Monsters, whose Company, to
tell you the Truth, I did not like; and therefore resolv'd to come home
and bide with thee my Girl--Come kiss thy poor Hubby, kiss me I say, for
Sorrow begins to ebb apace.
_Peg._ A thousand, thousand Welcomes home dear _Numpy_!
_Comp._ An Ocean of Thanks, kind _Peggy_: Well, and how goes all at
Home? What Lank still, poor _Peg_? Wil't ne're be full Sea at our Wharf?
_Peg._ Alas, Husband, what do you mean?
_Comp._ A Lass, is it, or a Lad, Wench? I shou'd be glad of both; I
look'd for a pair of Compasses long afore now.
_Peg._ What, and you from home, Love?
_Comp._ I from home? Why tho I was from home, and other of our
Neighbours from home, does that follow that every body else is from
home?
_Peg._ I am pleased you are so merry, Husband.
_Comp._ Merry, nay I'll be merrier yet; why shou'd I be sorry? I hope my
Boy's well, is he not? Od's fish, I look for another by this Time.
_Peg._ Boy, what Boy, Deary?
_Comp._ What Boy! why the Boy I got when I came home in the Cock-boat
one Night, about a Year ago; You have not forgotten it, I hope, I think
I left behind me for a Boy, and a Boy I look for.
_Peg._ I find he knows all--What shall I do? [_Aside._]
O dear Husband, pray pardon me. [_Kneels._]
_Comp._ Pardon thee; why I hope thou hast not made away with my Boy,
hast thou? Od's death I'll hang thee, if there were never a Whore more
in _London_, if thou hast.
_Peg._ O no; but your long Absence, and the Rumour of your Death,
[_Cries._] made me think I might venture.
_Comp._ Venture, quoth a, I can't blame thee, _Peg_; for _Wapping_, if
it were twice _Wapping_, can't hold out always, no more than _Redriff_,
_Limehouse_ or _Shadwel_, nay or the strongest Suburbs about _London_;
and when it comes to that, wo be to the City too, Girl.
_Peg._ Consider, Husband, I'm but a Woman, neither the first or last
that have done the same, and truly I won't deny but I have a Child.
_Comp._ Have you so? And what by Consequence must I have then, I pray?
_Peg._ If you'l forgive me this Time, it shall be so no more, indeed and
indeed, now.
_Comp._ Well, well. I will forgive thee, _Peg_, upon this Condition,
that you tell me who it was that fell foul aboard thee, and sprung this
Leak in thee.
_Peg._ O dear Husband!
_Comp._ Nay, no Excuses, for I must know.
_Peg._ Why then truly it was Mr. _Venter_ the Merchant.
_Comp._ I am beholding to him, and wou'd requite his Civility, if his
Wife were but as willing, tho he be one of our Merchants at Sea, he
shall give me leave to be Owner at home; and where is my Boy? what,
shan't I see him?
_Peg._ Yes if you please, good Husband: He's nurs'd at _Bednal green_;
'tis now too late, to Morrow will be better.
_Comp._ Come then we'l home and to bed.
_Let other Fools repine at Scoffs and Scorns,
I'll teach the Cuckold how to hide his Horns._
[Exeunt.
_Enter Justice_ Merryman, _Mr._ Venter, Spruce, _Mrs._ Venter _and_
Clara.
_Mer._ Was the like ever known, that a Bridegroom shou'd absent himself
on his Wedding-Day?
Mr. _Ven._ 'Tis somewhat strange indeed.
_Mer._ And the Bride too my Daughter, she's out of the way: Why what
shou'd be the meaning of all this, Od's bobs I can't tell?
Mrs. _Ven._ Perhaps they'r busy Brother, privately conferring Notes
together: You can't tell but that the young Man may have a stomach to
his Supper, and fall too unawares, and we ne're the wiser.
_Spr._ Od's nigs, very true; what wou'd you say then Sir, if they shou'd
be stol'n away, and a-bed together seriously?
_Mer._ What wou'd I say? marry I wou'd say, Speed 'em well: And if no
worse News ever comes to me, I'll be hang'd if e're I cry'd for't.
_Enter Nurse._
How now, what's the Business with you?
_Nurse._ Business enough, Forsooth; for I have the strangest Tydings!
_Mer._ Of any One that's lost, Woman?
_Nurse._ No forsooth, of One that's found again, an't please you.
_Mer._ O, he was lost then it seems.
Mr. _Ven._ Her Business is with me, I believe Brother; is it not, Woman?
_Nurse._ Yes, Sir.
Mr. _Ven._ Come hither then, [_Nurse whispers Mr._ Venter.] How,
return'd?
_Nurse._ Yes indeed, Sir, and all discovered.
Mr. _Ven._ Ah Curse on the Wind that blew him ashore.
_Nurse._ Aye, so say I Sir, and did not sink him when he was going.
Mr. _Ven._ Well, well, be sure you do not let him come near the Child.
_Nurse._ I warrant you, Sir, if you charge me to the contrary.
Mr. _Ven._ Yes, I do strictly charge you as you tender my Displeasure.
_Nurse._ Well then let me alone--Besides, Sir, he intends to come to
morrow morning with his Wife and see him.
Mr. _Ven._ I'll meet him there; and if he chance to be there before me,
be sure to keep the Child safe, and not let him touch it.
_Nurse._ I warrant you, let me alone.
[_Exit Nurse._
_Enter_ Summerfield _and_ Arabella.
_Mer._ So, so, Heaven be praised, they are not both lost I see, here's
the Bride, my Daughter, come again.
_Ara._ Father, and Gentlemen, I desire ye to treat this Stranger here
with all Respect and Generosity; He's a loving Kinsman of my _Bonvile_'s
who kindly came to congratulate our Wedding.
_Mer._ Sir, you are heartily welcome. Od's bobs you are.
Mr. _Ven._ Welcome to all of us.
_Spruce._ Seriously, Sir, and so you are.
_Mer._ But where's the Bridegroom, Girl? Od's bobs we're all at a
Nonplus here, at a stand, quite out; the Musicks ceas'd, and we all look
as tho there were neither a light Heart or Heel among us; nay, my Cousin
_Clara_ too as cloudy as on a washing Day.
_Clara._ 'Tis then because you will not dance with me, Sir.
_Ara._ 'Tis I alone have cause to be sad, if this Day's Happiness cou'd
admit of any; But I've long reason'd with my pressing Thoughts, and from
them drawn some Symptoms of Relief. Suppose this Day hath long since
appointed by my dear _Bonvile_, to meet some Foe, and right his injur'd
Reputation: Nay, say he fights, alas! Why shou'd I fear, when all the
Powers above, that guard true Love and Innocence, will never see him
fall.
_Mer._ Prethee peace, good Girl hold thy tongue; Od's bobs thou'lt make
us all Cowards, to hear a Woman preach up Valour thus.
_Ara._ Well, Sir, I have done: But pray entertain this Gentleman kindly
for my sake. Indeed I was afraid when I saw him first.
_Sum._ Ha! what does she say? Od's Death she'l tell!
_Ara._ Being in search of my dear _Bonvile_, I had quite lost my Way
when he most opportunely came unto my Aid, and gave me many marks of his
Esteem in my distress of Fears; nay more than this, which I'll declare
at large.
_Sum._ Death and Hell, she'l betray me.
_Ara._ Well, Gentlemen, since the Bridegroom's absent, I must supply his
Place: Come, when I have waited on you to your Pleasure, I will return
[_To_ Summerfield.] to you, Sir, we must discourse more of my _Bonvile_
yet.
[_Exeunt all but_ Summerfield.]
_Manet_ Summerfield _solus._
_Sum._ What a trembling Trade's this, when Conscience, that shou'd be
our only Guide, flies and leaves us to our accusing Guilt. A Thief! the
very Name and Thought chills my Blood, and makes me tremble like an
Ague-fit. A Dog, nay every Bough that moves, puts us in fear of present
Apprehension. Sure I shall never thrive on this Trade: Perhaps I need
take no further Care, I may be now near to my Journey's End, or at least
in a fair way to _Newgate_, and from thence to _Tyburn_, the only Place
that we poor Rogues can claim for an Inheritance. Trust a Woman, and
with a Matter of such Importance, what a simple Dog am I? I cou'd find
in my Heart to run away: And that were base to run from a woman; I can
lay claim to nothing but her Vows, and those the Women seldom or never
mind.
_Enter_ Arabella.
_Ara._ So, Sir, now you shall find a Woman as good as her Promise; Here
are 20 Pieces, the full Value, on my Life, of what they cost.
_Sum._ Pray, Madam, do not thus suspend my doubtful Soul; but if you do
design to insnare my Life, speak, speak freely: Or if the Constable be
at the Door, let him shew his Staff of Authority, perhaps I may corrupt
him with a Bribe.
_Ara._ How! base ungrateful Man, do you suspect my Faith? Nay then,
Father, Uncle, and Gentlemen, where are you?
_Enter all as before._
_Mer._ How now, how now! What's the matter, Girl?
_Ara._ For shame, will you not entertain your Kinsman here a little
better: you leave him here alone, as tho you despised his Company.
_Mer._ Is that all? I thought the Bridegroom had been return'd: Sir,
pray pardon this Rudeness; But indeed I had quite forgot you, quite
forgot you, as I hope to be sav'd: But what makes you tremble, Sir, are
you ill dispos'd.
_Ara._ Think you he hath not reason to be ill-disposed at this cold
[_Aside to Justice_ Merryman.] Entertainment? for my part I blush for
shame.
_Spr._ Come pray, Sir, shake off this Dulness, and participate of our
Mirth, Od's nigs do.
_Sum._ I am very well, Sir, I thank you, only the Gentleman is a little
under a Mistake.
_Mer._ It may be so, Ay, ay, it may be so; I vow I thought you had
trembled, but I believe it might be my own Hand; you must pardon me, I
was stiffer once.
_Sum._ Sir, your humble Servant.
_Mer._ But, Gentlemen, what think you of an Adventure?
_Spr._ Adventure whither?
_Mer._ Why, to the _East-Indies_? I have a Vessel, Gentlemen, called the
_Sea-Horse_, bound thither, and to morrow I do expect her to sail. Now,
Gentlemen, if you'l venture, ye shall have fair Dealing, that I'll
promise you. And for the French, you need not fear them, for she is a
smart new Vessel: Nay, she hath a Letter of Mart too, and twenty brave
roaring Boys on both Sides her, Starboard and Larboard: And I intend to
go as far as _Marget_ down with her, 'twill be as good as Physick to me.
_Spr._ A very good Motion, Sir, I begin, there's my ten Pieces.
_Sum._ And, Sir, if a proffer'd Love may be accepted, be pleased to take
my ten Pieces with you.
_Mer._ Your's above all the rest, Sir.
_Ara._ That's kindly said, Sir, and I thank you: Now pray venture Ten
more for my sake.
_Sum._ Alas, Madam, it's a younger Brother's Portion.
_Ara._ At my Request, Sir, venture the other Ten; if you want, I'll
supply you with as many more.
_Sum._ With all my Heart then: Come, Sir, if you please, I'll double
mine: So now she's got her Gold again, and I am now no Thief, (_aside_)
Sir, I have a Suit to you,
[_To_ Merryman.
_Mer._ You may command it, for I am always at your Service: But pray
your Pleasure?
_Sum._ My Request, Sir, is, to have the Honour of keeping you Company to
Sea, for I have a great desire to see _Marget_.
_Mer._ Sir, I shall be very happy in your good Company.
_Ara._ I hope you will be both better acquainted e're you return; and by
that time your Kinsman may be here to make you more welcome.
_And for the Gold at my Request you lent,
I'll double it to give you more content._
Sum. _Why shou'd I fear, since she is prov'd so just?
I'll quit my Trade: Now_ Jack Catch _do thy worst._
_Exeunt._
_The End of the Second ACT._
ACT the Third.
_A Wood_
_Enter_ Bonvile _and_ Friendly.
_Bon._ Come my brave _Friendly_, I think we are here the first: Your
Enemy is not yet i'th Field; let's walk a Turn or two, perhaps by that
time he may arrive.
_Fri._ I'm very confident that he's here already.
_Bon._ Thy Looks, me-thinks, speak Conquest sure thy own; an ardent Rage
has kindled both thy Cheeks.
_Fri._ Like a red Morning, Friend; which still foretels a stormy Day to
follow--And now I well observe your Face, me-thinks it waxes pale,
there's Death in it already.
_Bon._ How, _Friendly_, do you then take me for a Coward? My Face look
pale, and Death in it already? By Heav'n, shou'd any but my _Friendly_
dare to tell me what thou hast said, my Sword shou'd ram the base
Affront down the curst Villain's Throat. But you are my Friend, and I
must only chide your Error. But prethee tell me who is it you are to
fight with, for as yet I am ignorant both of the Cause and Person.
_Fri._ Ha, his Name! Did you enquire his Name?
_Bon._ Yes.
_Fri._ I dare not yet reveal it for fear of----
_Bon._ For fear of what?
_Fri._ O Confusion! I know not what to say!
_Bon._ How, afraid to tell his Name? Then I begin to doubt the Justice
of your Quarrel.
_Fri._ Too well you may, for by yon' setting Sun, that Globe of heavenly
Light I swear, I come to kill the only Man that strives to save my
Life--Man did I say? Nay more than common Man, for those the World
abound with; but such a Man besides, all this vast Land affords not.
_Bon._ By this your large Encomium of your Friend, I'm afraid 'twas Wine
first made your Quarrel, and thereupon this Challenge did ensue.
_Fri._ O no! I call the Powers above to witness, that in all the Course
of our unhappy Friendship, I to my knowledg never did receive the least
Affront or Injury from him.
_Bon._ How came this Challenge then?
_Fri._ O dear Friend, the noblest that Man cou'd ever boast of:
[_embraces him_] When first my rigid Fate threw on me this Command to
fight, I had recourse to many whom I always thought my Friends; but when
the Touchstone of my Danger try'd 'em, I found 'em like the cursed Fruit
of _Sodom_, fair without, but rotten at the Heart: But then I found out
_Bonvile_, my only dearest Friend. _Bonvile_ no sooner heard of my
Engagement, but flew unto my Succour with as much Bravery, as a great
General hastned by Alarms, marches to meet the Foe: You left your
Nuptial Bed perhaps to meet your Death. O unheard-of Friendship! My
Father gave me Life, 'tis true; but you, my Friend, support my Honour.
All this for me, while I, ungrateful Man, thus seek your Life: For to my
eternal Horror be it spoke, you are the Man whom I come here to kill.
_Bon._ Ha!
_Fri._ Too true alas! there read the Warrant for your Death.
[_Gives him the Letter._]
_Bon._ 'Tis a Woman's Hand.
_Fri._ Yes, and a bad One too, they all speak fair, write foul, but mean
worse.
_Bon._ How! kill me? Sure, I dream, and this is all Delusion, or else
thou dost it only to try thy Friend.
_Fri._ O, from my Soul, I wish it were no more. But read, read on, see
how I'm fetter'd in a _Circe's_ Charms--I love beyond Imagination, love
even to Madness, and must as madly do a Deed will damn me to the hottest
Flames of Hell.
_Bon._ And woo't thou kill thy Friend for such a Woman?
_Fri._ Alas! I must, you see I am commanded, commanded too by Love; Love
more powerful than all the Sacred Ties of Friendship, therefore draw,
and guard thy self. [_Draws._
_Bon._ Not I by Heaven! What wou'dst thou have me draw and kill my
Friend?
_Fri._ There thou stab'st my Soul. O where, where is now my Resolution
fled? A fatal Blast has struck me; a sudden Horror shot me thro the
Heart; a Trembling seiz'd my Knees, that I can hardly stand, and all my
Vital Powers methinks seem dead; yet Love's the Fire must kindle all
again, therefore I charge thee draw, or naked as thou art, I will assail
thee.
_Bon._ I am defended against all that thou canst do, in having Justice
on my Side, and Friendship too to back it.
_But since Humanity now bears so sway,
To this unguarded Breast come make your way._
Strike home be sure.
[_Opens his Bosom._
_Fri._ That were a barbarous Murder.
_Bon._ How can the Effect prove different from the Cause? Or how can any
thing but damn'd Barbarity ensue a Woman's much more damn'd Design? Who
wou'd expect Reason from one that raves, or hope for Mercy in a Tyger's
Den? Believe me, _Friendly_, all this may sooner be; Mercy may sooner
dwell among the Savage Wolves and Bears, than in a Woman's Breast.
_Fri._ O, my too rigid Fate, to place me thus on such a dangerous
Precipice, that wheresoe're I turn my self for help, I see my Ruin still
before mine Eyes.
[_Seems to weep._
_Bon._ [_Pausing._] Stay--The Command which thy _Medea_ sent thee, was
to kill thy only dearest Friend, was it not?
_Fri._ Alas! it was.
_Bon._ Then here, all Friendship dies between us; thus hast thou kill'd
thy Friend, and satisfied that infernal Hag, thy cursed Mistress, who
thus commanded thee: Away, I say, begon, and never see me more.
_Fri._ Ha!
_Bon._ Yes, base ungrateful Wretch, farewel, (_Offers to go_) --Yet
stay, and since that Sacred Tie of Friendship's broke, know thou, most
vile of Men, that _Bonvile_'s now thy Enemy; therefore do thou draw and
guard thy spotted Life.
_Fri._ How, Friend!
_Bon._ Friend didst thou call me? On forfeit of thy Life that word no
more; the very Name of Friend from thee, shall be a Quarrel: How can I
tell but that thou lovest my Wife, and therefore feign'd this damn'd
Design to draw me from her Arms?
_Fri._ How! wrong thy Wife? O no, I never had a Thought so vile! Yet you
must forgive me, indeed you must, by all that once was dear to me; and
what I dare not mention more, by Love and Honour, I implore thy
Pardon--Still art thou deaf to my Complaints?--Nay, then upon my Knee, I
will enforce thy Pity. Behold me, _Bonvile_, prostrate at thy Feet,
crawling for Mercy, swimming in Tears, and almost drown'd with Shame;
extend thy Arm to help me, as thou'rt a Man, be God-like in thy Nature,
and raise me from the Grave; turn thy Eyes on me, and sink me not with
Frowns; O save me, save me, or I fall for ever.
_Bon._ As soon shall Heav'n reverse the Fate of Hell, as I recal what I
have said, or plant thee in my Breast again.
_Fri._ Nay, then I am lost to thee, and all the World besides.
[_Rises._
_Bon._ Thou are indeed for ever lost to me; see what a miserable Wretch
thy Folly now has made thee: A Creature so far below my Pity, that I
despise and scorn thy base Submission, and will never hear thee more,
more.
_Fri._ Say but thou hast forgiven me, and I will ask no more.
_Bon._ I never will.
_Fri._ O cruel _Bonvile_!
_Bon._ More barbarous _Friendly_: Hold off, or I will use thee like a
Dog, tread thee to Earth, and spurn thee like a Slave, base as thou art.
_Fri._ Still thou art my Friend----
_Bon._ Thou ly'st, I have abjured the Name.
_Fri._ Let me but go with thee.
_Bon._ Not for the World; I'de rather venture my self with Crocodiles,
catch the last dying Gasps of some poor Wretch infested with the Plague,
than trust my self with thee.
_Farewel, I leave thee with the greatest Curse,
Condemn'd to Woman, Hell affords no worse._
[_Exit, breaking from him._
Friendly solus, _rising in a Passion._
_Fri._ Death and Destruction, am I thus despised! Condemned to Woman's
Lust, and scorn'd by Man. By _Bonvile_ too, after imploring, like a
School-Boy, at his Feet--My Blood boils high, and scalds my very Heart!
My inward Grief calls on me for Revenge, and I am all on fire! O that I
had the proud _Bonvile_ here now at my Feet, I'de use him worse than he
did me before.
_But since that open Force yields no Relief,
Private Revenge shall ease my swelling Grief.
With Thoughts of Jealousy I'll fill his Soul,
Which shall its Powers of all their Rest controul.
Thus for a Woman I've begun a War,
And for her sake must damn my Soul like her._[Exit.
SCENE the Second.
_Enter_ Nurse, Compass, _and his Wife._
_Nurse._ Indeed you must pardon me, I can't let ye see the Child; to
tell you the Truth, I am commanded to the contrary.
_Comp._ Commanded! Prethee who commanded thee?
_Nurse._ The Father.
_Comp._ The Father, Why who am I?
_Nurse._ Not the Father sure, the Civil Law has found it otherwise.
_Comp._ The Civil Law found it otherwise! Why then the Uncivil Law shall
make it mine again, I'll be as dreadful as a _Shrove-Tuesday_ to thee;
for I'll besiege thy squalling catterwauling Castle, with my Friends the
Mob, and gut thy stinking Nursery, but I'll both see and have my Child.
_Nurse._ Harkee, Goodman Swabber, say but half so much again, and I'll
call the Constable, and lay Burglary to your Charge. You wou'd not be so
hot if the Enemy were in View, nor if you had to do with any body but a
poor innocent Woman, so you wou'd'nt.
_Peg._ Good Husband be patient, and let me alone with her: Come, come,
good Nurse, let him see the Boy.
_Nurse._ Indeed I dare not Goody _Compass_: The Father first you know
delivered me the Child, and order'd me to let no body see it. He pays me
well and weekly for my Pains, and therefore I'll do as be bad me, so I
will.
_Comp._ Why thou white Bastard-breeder; Is not this Woman here the
Mother?
_Nurse._ Yes, I grant you that.
_Comp._ Do you so? Well, and I grant it too; And is not the Child then
my own by the Wives Copy-hold?
_Nurse._ The Law must try that.
_Comp._ The Law! What then you think I'll be but its Father-in-Law? I
tell thee, all the Wit and Law twixt _Cuckolds-Point_ and
_Westminster-Hall_, shan't keep my own dear Flesh and Blood from me, I
warrant you that. No an't does, I'll be hanged at the Main-yard: Why,
who, dost think, uses to get my Children but my self?
_Nurse._ Nay, I can't tell; you must look to that, for my part I ne're
knew you get any.
_Comp._ Say'st thou so? Why, look you, do but put on a clean Smock, and
try me, if thou darst, I'll hold thee three to one I get thee with Child
before I leave thee: Heh! what say'st thou?
[_Offers to lay hold on her._.
_Nurse._ I'll see you hang'd first--Nay, pray be quiet, and don't offer
to spoil my Milk. Lord, you are as boisterous as my Husband was the
first Night we were married: Pray, Goody _Compass_, take off your Cur,
or else he'l bite me.
_Peg._ No never fear him, Nurse, he's not so furious I assure ye.
_Enter Mr._ Venter _and his Wife._
_Nurse._ O! here's my Master, the Child's Father, now talk with him.
Mr. _Ven._ Good morrow Neighbour, good morrow to ye both.
_Comp._ Both! Good morrow to you and your Wife too, if you go to that.
Mr. _Ven._ I wou'd speak calmly with you, Friend, if you think fit.
_Comp._ I know what belongs to Calm, and a Storm too; and if you please,
a cold word or two wi' you.
Mr. _Ven._ With all my Heart.
_Comp._ I understand that you have ty'd your Mare in my Ground.
Mr. _Ven._ My Mare, Friend, nay I assure you, 'twas only my Nag.
_Comp._ Your Nag? Well your Nag then let it be: Harke, Sir, to be short,
I'll cut off your Nag's Tail, if e're I catch him there again.
Mr. _Ven._ Pray hear me, you are too rough to maintain----
_Comp._ I say, Sir, you shall maintain no Child of mine; my Wife does
not bestow her Labour for that purpose.
Mr. _Ven._ You are too passionate--I will not maintain----
_Comp._ No marry shall you not.
Mr. _Ven._ The Deed I have done to be lawful, I have repented it, and
given Satisfaction to the Law, my Purse has paid for't; therefore I
wou'd treat milder with you if you'd be pleased.
_Comp._ Yes, yes, I am very well pleased, and shall be better pleased if
you can serve me so still: For, look you Sir, one of these Days I shall
to Sea again, you know where my Wife lives; yet you'l but lose your
labour, for get as many Children as you can, I assure you, you shall
keep none of them.
Mr. _Ven._ I think you are mad.
_Comp._ Why, if I am Horn-mad, what's that to you?
Mr. _Ven._ Nay then, since you are so rough, I tell you plainly you
are--a----
_Comp._ A what? What am I, heh?
Mr. _Ven._ A Coxcomb.
_Comp._ A Coxcomb! a Cuckold you mean, and you a Fool for your pains.
Mr. _Ven._ The Child is mine, I am the Father of it, and will keep it.
_Comp._ Yes if you can, I know you will. But pray tell me, is not my
Wife the Mother? You may be as far from being the Father as I am, for my
Wife's acquainted with more Whore-masters besides your self; ay, and as
crafty Merchants too, let me tell you that.
_Peg._ No indeed Husband, I had to do with no body else, 'twas he begot,
indeed and indeed now. Yet for all that, the Child's mine, I bred it and
bore it, and I'll have it and keep it, so I will.
Mrs. _Ven._ Pray hold there Mrs. Jill-flurt, the Child's my Husband's,
and he shall have it, or I'll tear your Eyes out, ye Whore you.
_Comp._ Good Words, Mistress; d'ye hear, give good Words you'd best, or
I shall tell you your own.
Mr. _Ven._ I'll have no more to say to ye, the Law shall determine it;
in the mean time Nurse keep the Child for me, there, there's Money for
thee.
[_Gives her Money.
_Comp._ There's Money for me too, keep it for me, Nurse; give him both
thy Duggs at once, I pay thee for the right one, Girl.
_Nurse._ I have two Hands, you see Gentlemen; this does but show ye how
the Law will hamper ye; even thus you'l be used, Gentlemen, if you go to
Law.
Mr. _Ven._ It can't be helpt, for I won't lose my Right.
_Comp._ Nor I mine for all you're a Merchant.
Mrs. _Ven._ Nor I mine for all I did not bear it.
_Peg._ Nor I, tho but a poor Sailer's Wife.
Mr. _Ven._ Well, fare ye well, we shall meet in another Place--Come
_Winny_.
[_Exit_ Venter _and his Wife._
_Comp._ Ay, ay, I'll meet you when and where you dare, and do your
worst, I fear you not: By the Lord _Harry_ the World's come to a fine
Pass, that we must go to Law for our Children. No wonder the Lawyers are
all so rich, yet e're the Law shall have a Limb, a Leg, a Joint or Nail
of this same Boy,
_'T shall cost me more than a whole Child in getting,
Some win by play, and standers by with Betting._
[Exeunt.
SCENE the Third.
_Enter_ Spruce, Arabella _with a Letter in her Hand_, Clara, _Mr._
Venter, _and Mrs._ Venter.
Mr. _Ven._ From whence came that Letter, Niece?
_Ara._ From _Putney_, Sir, and from my Husband.
Mr. _Ven._ And pray be free; Does he tell ye the Cause of his leaving
you so abruptly on his Wedding-day?
_Ara._ Yes; Sir, yet this had been sufficient to have let me known what
he is gone about, without the formal Addition of an Epistle.
_Spruce._ That, why what is that I pray Madam?
_Ara._ His Will, Sir, wherein he makes me his sole Executrix.
_Spr._ Will! why what the Devil does he mean, seriously I can't find it
out?
_Ara._ Why, Sir, he's gone to fight.
_Spr._ How fight, Madam! On my Soul then I believe _Friendly_'s Second.
_Ara._ You're in the right, he is so, and I am lost for ever!
_Cla._ O foolish _Friendly_, this thy Mistake has made me the most
wretched of Woman-kind! Such variety of Thoughts load my afflicted
Breast, that I know not what to think: I rave, am mad, not knowing what
my Folly may produce; I fear for both, for both my Heart does bleed.
_Ara_. Miserable Maid! nay, miserable Wife! but much more miserable
Widow! O my dear _Bonvile_!
_Spr._ Duce take me, if e're I saw a Company so Phlegmatick in all my
Life: Mr. _Venter_, prethee let's have a Song, to pass away the Time,
and put Life into the Bride.
Mr. _Ven._ With all my Heart, Mr. _Spruce_: Here, who waits?--Call in
the Musick, and desire 'em to oblige the Ladies with a new Song.
[_Servant Enter and Exit._ ]
_Cla._ Your self, Sir, you mean?
_Spr._ Nay all of us I protest.
Mr. _Ven._ Ay, ay, all of us.
_Enter Musick and others who sing._
A Dialogue set by _Seignior Baptist_.
Man. _A Woman's Love_ Woman. _And Man's is such,_
Man. _Still too little,_ Wom. _Or else too much._
Wom. _Men are Extreams,_ Man. _And Women too,_
Wom. _All, all are false,_ Man. _All, All like you._
Wom. _You'll swear and lie,_ Man. _If you'l believe,_
Wom. _And sigh and die,_ Man. _Yet still deceive._
Wom. _Your Vows and Oaths_ Man. _Your Smiles and Tears,_
Wom. _Are all but Baits,_ Man. _Are all but Snares._
Wom. _To win a Heart,_ Man. _And then destroy,_
Wom. _The easy Fool,_ Man. _The promis'd Joy._
Another Strain.
Wom. _I'le have you offer no more your Pretending,_
Man. _Nor will I suffer your modish Dissembling:_
Wom. _For Honour commands,_
Man. _And Freedom withstands,_
Wom. _What you?_
Man. _And you._
Wom. _I know wou'd have me be, your Slave,_
Man. _I know wou'd have me be, your Slave._
Wom. _O, no, no, no!_
Man. _No, no, no, no!_
Wom. _I never will agree,_
Man. _I ever will be free._
_After the Song enter Justice_ Merryman, Summerfield, _and three or four
Sailers._
_Mer._ Daughter, Daughter! Where's my Daughter? I say, Where's my
Daughter? O Girl, I have the best News to tell you----
_Ara._ What of my Husband, Sir?
_Mer._ No, no, of your Cousin, Girl, of your Cousin.
_Ara._ What of him, Sir?
_Mer._ Such a Cousin, Girl, such a dear Cousin he is, as _Alexander the
Great_, if he were alive, might be proud and boast of.
_Ara._ You're welcome here again, Sir; You've made but a short Voyage,
pray what occasion'd your Return so speedily?
_Sum._ Madam, I render you ten thousand Thanks; Your Generosity and
Goodness has wholly made me yours; I am the humblest of your faithful
Admirers.
_Ara._ Forbear such lavish Gratitude; You'r too profuse in your
Acknowledgment of your small Favours. But pray be brief, and let me know
the happy Occasion of this your sudden Return, I long methinks to hear
it.
_Sum._ Madam, you may command me--Not to molest the Company with the
Recital of every vain and needless Circumstance; 'twas briefly thus.
Scarce had we passed by _Marget_ on our Course, when on a sudden, from
the Top-mast head, a Sailer cries, All hands Aloft, three Sails ahead:
With that we rumidg and clear our Deck, our Gun-room arm'd, and all
things now are ready for a Fight. The Ships before descried, with
warlike Stems cut the resisting Waves, whilst from their Pendants
fluttering in the Air, we found they were three _Dunkirk_ Privateers;
they having made our English Cross advanced, salute us with a
Broad-side, to make us strike and yield: But we, who ne're knew as yet
what 'twas so cowardly to yield, and not regarding their unequal Odds,
fell boldly on, returning Fire for Fire. The Engagement then grew
desperate, for they on either Side fired in amain, whilst we withstood
their Force. At length they boldly grappled, and laid us close aboard,
and we as bravely beat them off again.
_Mer._ But now, Daughter, mark what follows, for that's worth all,
I'faith it is; therefore go on, dear Cuz, go on.
_Sum._ Sea-room at length we got; when (as Fate wou'd have it) an
unlucky Shot struck both the Captain and Lieutenant dead. Then we began
to fear, and all our noble Hearts were trembling with despair.
_Mer._ No, no, not all Daughter--But you shall hear more--Ods bobs you
shall.
_Sum._ How cou'd it be otherwise, when both our Commanders now were
lost? therefore to strike was all the Talk----
_Mer._ Ay, ay, now Daughter, now comes the Play, the other was only the
Prologue.
_Sum._ But Fortune favouring, and the Wind springing a fresh Gale, we
got clear off and try'd to make a running Fight.
_Mer._ Ay, but Cuz, how did we do all this? by whose Order and
Direction?
_Sum._ Pardon me, Sir, 'twas of so small Moment, that already it has
slipt my treacherous Memory.
_Mer._ Oh, ho! has it so! Ha, ha, ha! But it has not mine, I thank you,
no marry has it not, as you shall hear--Then he, with an undaunted
Spirit, started up amongst the Sailers, and----
_Sum._ Nay pray Sir----
_Mer._ By the Foot of _Pharaoh_ I'll not be balkt; he, I say, with an
Heroick Voice cried out, Courage brave boys, Charge and Discharge amain;
come I'll supply your fall'n Captain's place. At this blest News they
all fell on again, with ten thousand times more Fury than before:
Victory, Victory, was all their cry, whilst he my Cousin here, whom I
shall ne're forget, for by the Lord, methinks, I see him in the Fight
this very Instant, now running this way, now running that way, now down
to the Gun-room to encourage those that fought there; now upon the Deck
again, still crying out, Fear not, brave Boys, the Day will soon be
our's.
_Sum._ O pray, Sir, let me intreat you to forbear, you make me ashamed,
I protest, to hear you.
_Mer._ Ashamed, say you? Ha, ha, ha!
_Ara._ Good Sir, go on.
_Mer._ I will, I will--At length the proud French swallowing too many of
our English Balls, two of 'em very fairly cried, Your Servants
Gentlemen, farewel, and down they went. The other having lost most of
her Men, resolved to leave us; but we being too nimble, overtook her,
clapt some Men aboard, and brought her in a Prize: And this my brave Man
of War here, was the first that boarded her with Sword in Hand.
_1 Sailer._ Of all this I was an Eye-witness.
_2 Sailer._ And so was I.
_3 Sailer._ And I, and all of us.
_Mer._ Yes, and many more stout Boys besides.
_Spruce._ Sir, we are all indebted to your Valour; such Voyages as
these, from small Venturers, in time may make us great Merchants.
_Mer._ Well, never was Fight better managed before, that's certain.
_1 Sail._ No, never, never!
_2 Sail._ Better, say you? No nor half so well.
_3 Sail._ If it were in our Power, we'd make him Admiral, so we wou'd.
_Sum._ Gentlemen, 'tis to your Valours all, that I am indebted for the
Honour I have gain'd: And that I may not seem wholly ungrateful, there,
there's something in token of my Thankfulness.
[_Gives 'em Money._
_1, 2, 3 Sailers._ Heaven bless your Worship.
_Ara._ Come Cousin, we'l withdraw into the Parlour: And if these honest
Friends will be pleased to drink what our House affords, they shall be
welcome.
_1 Sail._ Thank you Mistress with all our Hearts.
[Exeunt _all but Sailers_.
_2 Sail._ Well, this Mr. _Summerfield_ is a brave Fellow, Gadzooks he
is.
_3 Sail._ Ay _Tom_ so he is; had it not been for him, we had all been
taken on my Conscience.
_1 Sail._ On my Soul and so we had: O if you had but seen him when he
boarded the _Monsieur_, 'twou'd have made you laugh 'till you had split
your Sides. He came up to the Captain o'this fashion with a Slap--ha!
and gave him such a back-handed wipe, that he cut off his Head as
genteely, as tho he had served seven Years Apprenticeship to't.
_Enter Servant with a Bowl of Punch._
_Serv._ Gentlemen, Mr. _Summerfield_ desires ye to be merry, and has
sent you this to drink his Health.
_1 Sail._ O, the Lord bless him, he's a fine Gentleman, and so pray tell
him, and withal give him our hearty Thanks; Dost hear Boy?
_Serv._ Yes, yes, I will.
[_Exit._
_2 Sail._ What is't Brother?
_3 Sail._ Punch by this Light!
Omnes. _Hoo-ra; Hoo-ra; Viva_ Mr. _Summerfield, Viva, Hoora._
[The first Sailer takes the Bowl of Punch, walks in state round the
Stage, and sings; the others all follow.]
_Here's a Health to jolly_ Bacchus,
_Here's a Health to jolly_ Bacchus,
_Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho._
_For he will merry make us,_
_For he will merry make us,_
_Hi ho, hi ho, hi ho._
_Then sit ye down together,_
_Then sit ye down together._
[_They all sit down with the Bowl in the middle._
_2 Sail._ Pshaw! Pox o'th' this old Song, prithee let's have a Dance.
_3 Sail._ With all my Heart; strike up Musick.
_The Sailers and their Wives dance._
After the Dance.
1 Sail. _So, well done my Lads, now let's aboard amain,_
_And suck our Faces o're and o're again._
_Brandy we've got enough, by this blest Chance,_
_We'l nothing drink but Punch, when we get_ France.
_Omn._ Hoora! Hoora! Exeunt omnes.
_The End of the Third ACT._
ACT the Fourth.
_A Tavern._
[2 Tables, three Chairs to each.]
_Enter_ Compasse, Peg, _and_ Pettifog.
_A Drawer Meets them._
_Drawer._ Welcome Gentlemen. Please to walk into a Room?
_Compasse:_ Aye Boy. Come Mr. _Pettifog_, please you sit.
_Pettifog:_ With all my Heart; Come Mistress.
_Draw._ What Wine will you be pleased to drink, Gentlemen?
_Pett._ Ask the good Woman: speak Mistress.
_Com._ Canary for her; I know what relishes her Palat best. A Quart of
brisk Canary, Boy.
_Draw._ Ye shall have the best in _England_.--Coming, Coming, Sir.
[_Exit._.
_Com._ What call you this same Tavern, Mr. Attorney?
_Pett._ The King's Head, Sir.
_Com._ The King's Head: Marry, it has a good Neighbour of _Guild-hall_.
It takes many a fair Pound upon that 'n Account, I warrant you.
_Draw._ (within) A Quart of Canary in the King's-head, score.
_Enter Drawer, fills a Glass, and gives it_ Compasse.
_Draw._ Sir, Here's a Glass of the richest Canary that ever came over,
the very Quintessence of the Grape I assure you.
_Com._ Say'st thou so? Why then there's a Tester for thee, and so leave
us--. Come, Mr. _Pettifog_, [_Exit Drawer_] and 't please you my Service
to you.
[_Drinks._
_Pett._ I thank you kindly, Sir.--Mrs. my Service to you, your Husband's
good Health.
[_Drinks._
_Peg._ With all my Heart indeed, Here my dear black ey'd Rogue, thy
n'own good Health.
[_Drinks._
_Com._ Thank you _Peg_, thank you, so now let's mind our Business.
_Enter Mr._ Ventere, _his Wife, and_ Dodge, _to another Table in the
same Room._
Mr. _Ven._ Show a Room, Drawer.
_Draw._ Here Sir.
Mr. _Ven._ Ne're a private Room?
_Draw._ No Sir, the House is full.
_Com._ Ods fish, whom have we here, my Wife's Merchant, with his Lawyer?
_Pett._ Ye know we promised to give him a Meeting here.
_Comp._ 'Tis true we did so,--but come to the Business in hand.
[_Pettifog_ and _Compasse_ talk privately.
Mr. _Ven._ Well, bring us a Bottle of your best Red.
_Draw._ You shall have it, Sir.
[_Exit_ Drawer.
Mr. _Ven._ And what do you think of my Cause, Mr. _Dodge_?
_Dodge._ O we shall carry it most certainly: You have Money to go
through with the Business; and ne're fear but we'll trounce them
swingingly.
Mr. _Ven._ I warrant you think it very strange, Mr. _Dodge_, that I am
at this Charge and Expence to bring a farther Charge upon me.
_Dodge._ Not I, I assure you, Sir, for I know you are a wise Man, and
know very well what you do; besides you have Money, Money enough, Sir.
Mr. _Ven._ Why the short and the long of the Business is this; I made a
Purchase lately, and in that I did estate the Child (about which I'm
sued) Joint-Purchaser with me in all the Land I bought.
Mrs. _Ven._ Right Husband; and you know 'twas I that advised you to make
the Purchase, and therefore I'll never give my Consent to have the Child
brought up by such a stinking Tar-barrel as now sues for him; he'd only
bring him up to be a Swabber; no, no, he was born a Merchant and a
Gentleman, and he shall live and die so.
_Dodge._ You are a worthy Gentlewoman upon my word; there are but few of
such a noble Temper: But what makes the Fool of the Husband then so
troublesome; does he not know when he's well?
Mrs. _Ven._ So 'tis a sign.
_Dodge._ A Blockhead, to proclaim his own Disgrace, and make himself
laugh'd at.
Mr. _Ven._ That's not it, he hopes to be the better by what is settled
on the Boy.
_Dodge._ O, God's so, that's true: But never fear, I'll be hang'd if he
carry it, for you have Money, as I told you, Sir, before: but see, Sir,
there they are.
Mr. _Ven._ Yes, Yes, I saw them before: but come, where's our Wine?
(_Within_) [the Bell rings as at the Bar.
_Enter Drawer with a Bottle of Wine._
_Draw._ Here Sir,--Coming, Coming, Sir: _Philip_, speak up in the
Mermaid, and bid _Jack_ light a Fire.
[_Exit_ Drawer.
_Comp._ Well Mr. _Pettifog_, and what think you of my Suit, Sir?
_Pett._ Why look you Sir, the Defendant you know was arrested first by a
_Latitat_ in an Action of Trespass.
_Comp._ Yes, and a Lawyer told me, it shou'd have been an Action of the
Case, did he not, Wife?
_Peg._ I have no Skill in the Law you know Husband, but the Gentleman
did say so.
_Pett._ Aye, but your Action of the Case in this Point is too ticklish.
_Comp._ Well, but pray tell me, do you think I shall overthrow my
Adversary?
_Pett._ Without all doubt, the Child he says is none of yours, What of
that! I marry a Widow, and am by Consequence possess'd of a Ward. Now
shall not I have the Management of that Ward? Now Sir you lie at a
stronger Ward, for _Partus sequitur ventrem_, says the Civil Law: So
that if you were within the Compass of the four Seas, as the Common Law
goes, the Child must be yours, that's certain.
_Comp._ Say you so, Sir? Why then the Child's my own, for I have been a
Coaster these five Years and more; and so my Service to you: [Drinks]. O
your Attorneys in _Guild-hall_ have a rare time on't, by the Lord
_Harry_.
_Peg._ They are as it were both Judg and Jury themselves.
_Comp._ And O how they will laugh at their Clients when they sit in a
Tavern, and call them Fools, Blockheads and Coxcombs, and then whip up
their Causes as nimbly as a Barber trims his Customers on a
_Christmas-Eve_; a Snip, a Wipe and away.
_Pett._ That's very common, you shall have the like at a _Nisi-prius_.
_Enter Drawer._
_Draw._ Here's a Gentleman, one Mr. Justice _Merryman_, enquires for Mr.
_Ventere_ the Merchant.
Mr. _Ven._ Here Boy, desire them to walk up. [_Exit_ Drawer.] 'Tis my
Brother, and a Counsellor, to make an End of this same Business.
_Enter Justice_ Merryman _and a Counsellor; both Tables rise and join
together._
_Merr._ Your Servant, Gentlemen, your Servant: Counsellor _Blunder_ and
I have been canvasing the Business of this your Difference; and I
believe, Brother, the Law will determine it as we have done; for it is
point blank against you.
Mr. _Ven._ If it is, I must be contented: Well Sir, the Child's your
Wife's, and you shall have it; and to endear you the more to't, I'll
settle my part of the Estate on you and yours for ever: Give me your
Hand.
[_They shake Hands._
We now are Friends.
_Merr._ Why that's well said.
_Couns._ We all are Witness to the Agreement.
_Omnes._ All, all.
_Comp._ Nay I scorn to be outdone in Civility; therefore if you please I
have a Gallon or two of Prize-Wine, and half a Dozen of good sound
_Bruges_-Capons, which I'll treat you and this good Company with at
Supper; but no more Mutton, no not a bit.
_Merr._ Well Brother, I'm glad you're Friends: Ods bobs I am. But come,
let's home now, and see what's become of the Bride and Bridegroom:
Farewel Friend, farewell: Come we'll pay at the Bar.
[_Exeunt_ Merr. _Mr._ Vent. _and his Wife,_ Couns. _and_ Dodge.
_Comp._ Come _Peg_, Come and kiss me.
[_Compass_ kisses Peg.
I am Friends with thee too now.
_Pett._ Aye, aye, you have Reason, she has earn'd you a good Fortune;
and need not venture to Sea any more: Yet one thing let me advise you,
'tis Counsel worth a good Fee, for it cures Cuckoldom.
_Comp._ Sayst thou so, come let's hear it.
_Pett._ This it is, Make a flat Divorce between your selves, be you no
longer her Husband, nor she your Wife: Two or three Hours after meet
again, salute, woo and wed afresh, and so the base Name of Cuckold's
blotted quite. This has been experienc'd and approved by many.
_Comp._ 'Tis excellent i'faith,--There, there's for you; and I thank
you. _Peg_, I renounce thee,--nay and I renounce my self too from thee;
thou art now a Widow, _Peg_; I'll go hang my self two or three Hours at
one o' th' Main Yards, and so long thou shalt go drown thy self. Then
we'll meet in _White-Chappel-Fields_, as it were by chance, and woo and
wed again.
_Peg._ With all my Heart, kind Sir, fare you well.
_Comp._ Farewel Widow, remember Time and Place, and d' you hear, Put on
your Sabbath-day best Clothes.
_Peg._ I will, I will.
[_Exit Peg._
_Comp._ Sir, I am beholding to you for your good Counsel.
_Pett._ No, Sir, you have paid me for 't, but I hope you do not intend
to follow your own.
_Comp._ What is that?
_Pett._ Why, you said you'd hang your self.
_Camp._ No no, I have thought better on't, for I'll go drink my self
dead drunk, then wake again, wash my Face, and meet the Bride.
_Pett._ That's well said, and I'll accompany you, and wish you Joy.
_Comp._ Joy, Sir, I have it Sir already, in a good Estate got by a
Chopping Boy.
[_Exeunt._