_Aman._ Why, what wou'd you do?
_Ber._ I'd cure myself.
_Aman._ How?
_Ber._ Let Blood in the fond Vein: Care as little for my Husband as he
did for me.
_Aman._ That would not stop his Course.
_Ber._ Nor nothing else, when the Wind's in the warm Corner. Look you,
_Amanda_, you may build Castles in the Air, and fume, and fret, and
grow thin and lean, and pale and ugly, if you please. But I tell you,
no Man worth having is true to his Wife, or can be true to his Wife, or
ever was, or ever will be so.
_Aman._ Do you then really think he's false to me? for I did but
suspect him.
_Ber._ Think so? I know he's so.
_Aman._ Is it possible? Pray tell me what you know.
_Ber._ Don't press me then to name Names; for that I have sworn I won't
do.
_Aman._ Well, I won't; but let me know all you can without Perjury.
_Ber._ I'll let you know enough to prevent any wise Woman's dying
of the Pip; and I hope you'll pluck up your Spirits, and shew, upon
occasion, you can be as good a Wife as the best of 'em.
_Aman._ Well, what a Woman, can do I'll endeavour.
_Ber._ O, a Woman can do a great deal, if once she sets her mind to it.
Therefore pray don't stand trifling any longer, and teasing yourself
with this and that, and your Love and your Virtue, and I know not what.
But resolve to hold up your Head, get a tiptoe, and look over them all;
for to my certain knowledge your husband is a pickering elsewhere.
_Aman._ You are sure on't?
_Ber._ Positively, he fell in love at the Play.
_Aman._ Right, the very same; do you know the ugly thing?
_Ber._ Yes, I know her well enough; but she's no such ugly thing,
neither.
_Aman._ Is she very handsome?
_Ber._ Truly I think so.
_Aman._ Hey-ho!
_Ber._ What do you sigh for now?
_Aman._ Oh my Heart!
_Ber._ [_Aside._] Only the Pangs of Nature! she's in Labour of her
Love; Heaven send her a quick Delivery! I'm sure she has a good Midwife.
_Aman._ I'm very ill, I must go to my Chamber; Dear _Berinthia_, don't
leave me a Moment.
_Ber._ No, don't fear. [_Aside._] I'll see you safe brought-to-bed,
I'll warrant you.
[_Exeunt, ~Amanda~ leaning upon ~Berinthia~._
+SCENE+, _A Country-House_.
_Enter ~Young~ Fashion and ~Lory~._
_Young Fash._ So, here's our Inheritance, _Lory_, if we can but get
into Possession. But, methinks, the Seat of our Family looks like
_Noah_'s Ark, as if the chief part on't were design'd for the Fowls of
the Air, and the Beasts of the Field.
_Lo._ Pray, Sir, don't let your Head run upon the Orders of Building
here; get but the Heiress, let the Devil take the House.
_Young Fash._ Get but the House, let the Devil take the Heiress, I say;
at least if she be as old _Coupler_ describes her. But come, we have
no time to squander. Knock at the Door. [Lory _knocks two or three
times._] What the Devil, have they got no Ears in this House? Knock
harder.
_Lo._ I'gad, Sir, this will prove some inchanted Castle; we shall have
the Giant come out by and by with his Club, and beat our Brains out.
[_Knocks again._
_Young Fash._ Hush! they come.
_From within._] Who is there?
_Lo._ Open the Door and see: Is that your Country Breeding?
_Within._ Ay, but two Words to a Bargain: _Tummus_, is the Blunderbuss
prim'd?
_Young Fash._ Oons, give 'em good Words, _Lory_; we shall be shot here
a Fortune-catching.
_Lo._ I'gad, Sir, I think y'are in the right on't. Ho, Mr. What
d'ye-call-um.--[_Servant appears at the Window with a Blunderbuss._]
Weal naw, what's yar Business?
_Young Fash._ Nothing, Sir, but to wait upon Sir _Tunbelly_, with your
leave.
_Ser._ To weat upon Sir _Tunbelly_? Why, you'll find that's just as Sir
_Tunbelly_ pleases.
_Young Fash._ But will you do me the Favour, Sir, to know whether Sir
_Tunbelly_ pleases or not?
_Ser._ Why, look you, do you see, with good Words, much may be done.
_Ralph_, go thy weas, and ask Sir _Tunbelly_ if he pleases to be
waited upon. And, do'st hear? call to Nurse, that she may lock up Miss
_Hoyden_ before the Gates open.
_Young Fash._ D'ye hear that, _Lory_?
_Lo._ Ay, Sir, I'm afraid we shall find a difficult Jobb on't. Pray
Heaven that old Rogue _Coupler_ han't sent us to fetch Milk out of the
Gunroom!
_Young Fash._ I'll warrant thee all will go well: See; the Door opens.
_Enter Sir ~Tunbelly~, with his Servants arm'd with
Guns, Clubs, Pitchforks, Scythes, ~&c.~_
_Lo._ [_Running behind his Master._] O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, we are
both dead Men!
_Young Fash._ Take heed, Fool, thy Fear will ruin us.
_Lo._ My Fear, Sir--'Sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing. [_Aside._] Wou'd I
were well up to the Chin in a Horse-Pond!
Sir _Tun._ Who is it here has any Business with me?
_Young Fash._ Sir, 'tis I, if your Name be Sir _Tunbelly Clumsey_.
Sir _Tun._ Sir, my Name is Sir _Tunbelly Clumsey_, whether you have any
Business with me or not. So you see I am not asham'd of my Name--nor my
Face--neither.
_Young Fash._ Sir, you have no cause, that I know of.
Sir _Tun._ Sir, if you have no cause neither, I desire to know who
you are; for till I know your Name, I shall not ask you to come into
my House; and when I know your Name--'tis six to four I don't ask you
neither.
_Young Fash._ [_Giving him a Letter._] Sir, I hope you'll find this
Letter an Authentick Passport.
Sir _Tun._ God's my life, I ask your Lordship's Pardon ten thousand
times. [_To his Servant._] Here, run in a-doors quickly: Get a
Scotch-Coal Fire in the great Parlour; set all the Turkey-work-Chairs
in their places; get the great Brass Candlesticks out; and be sure
stick the Sockets full of Laurel; run. [_Turning to ~Young Fash~._] My
Lord, I ask your Lordship's pardon. [_To other Servants._] And do you
hear, run away to Nurse, bid her let Miss _Hoyden_ loose again, and if
it was not shifting Day, let her put on a clean Tucker--quick!
[_Exeunt Servants confusedly._
_To_ Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse the disorder of my
Family; we are not us'd to receive Men of your Lordship's great Quality
every day; pray where are your Coaches and Servants, my Lord?
_Young Fash._ Sir, that I might give you and your fair Daughter a proof
how impatient I am to be nearer akin to you, I left my Equipage to
follow me, and came away Post with only one servant.
Sir _Tun._ Your Lordship does me too much Honour. It was exposing
your Person to too much Fatigue and Danger, I protest it was; but my
Daughter shall endeavour to make you what amends she can; and tho' I
say it, that shou'd not say it--_Hoyden_ has Charms.
_Young Fash._ Sir, I am not a Stranger to them, tho' I am to her.
Common Fame has done her Justice.
Sir _Tun._ My Lord, I am common Fame's very grateful humble Servant. My
Lord----my Girl's young: _Hoyden_ is young, my Lord; but this I must
say for her, what she wants in Art, she has by Nature; what she wants
in Experience, she has in Breeding; and what's wanting in her Age, is
made good in her Constitution. So pray, my Lord, walk in; pray, my
Lord, walk in.
_Young Fash._ Sir, I wait upon you.
[_Exeunt._
_Miss ~Hoyden~ sola._
Sure never no body was us'd as I am. I know well enough what other
Girls do, for all they think to make a Fool of me: It's well I have a
Husband a coming, or I'cod, I'd marry the Baker, I wou'd so. No body
can knock at the Gate, but presently I must be lockt up; and here's the
young Greyhound Bitch can run loose about the House all the day long,
she can; 'tis very well.
_Nurse ~without~, opening the Door._
Miss _Hoyden_! Miss, Miss, Miss! Miss _Hoyden_!
_Enter ~Nurse~._
_Miss._ Well, what do you make such a Noise for, ha! What do you din a
body's Ears for? Can't one be at quiet for you?
_Nurse._ What do I din your Ears for? Here's one come will din your
Ears for you.
_Miss._ What care I who's come? I care not a Fig who comes, nor who
goes, as long as I shall be lockt up like the Ale-Cellar.
_Nurse._ That, Miss, is for fear you shou'd be drank before you are
ripe.
_Miss._ O, don't you trouble your Head about that; I'm as ripe as you,
tho' not so mellow.
_Nurse._ Very well; now I have a good mind to lock you up again, and
not let you see my Lord to-night.
_Miss._ My Lord! Why, is my Husband come?
_Nurse._ Yes, marry is he, and a goodly Person too.
_Miss._ [_Hugging Nurse._] O my dear _Nurse_, forgive, me this once,
and I'll never misuse you again; no, if I do, you shall give me three
thumps on the Back, and a great pinch by the Cheek.
_Nurse._ Ah the poor Thing, see how it melts; it's as full of
Good-Nature as an Egg's full of Meat.
_Miss._ But, my dear Nurse, don't lie now; is he come, by your troth?
_Nurse._ Yes, by my truly, is he.
_Miss._ O Lord! I'll go and put on my lac'd Smock, tho' I am whipt till
the Blood run down my Heels for't.
[_Exit running._
_Nurse._ Eh----the Lord succour thee, how thou art delighted!
[_Exit after her._
_Enter Sir ~Tunbelly~ and ~Young Fashion~. A Servant
with Wine._
Sir _Tun._ My Lord, I'm proud of the Honour to see your Lordship within
my Doors: and I humbly crave leave to bid you welcome in a Cup of Sack
Wine.
_Young Fash._ Sir, to your Daughter's Health.
[_Drinks._
Sir _Tun._ Ah poor Girl, she'll be fear'd out of her Wits on her
Wedding Night; for, honestly speaking, she does not know a Man from a
Woman, but by his Beard, and his Breeches.
_Young Fash._ Sir, I don't doubt she has had a virtuous Education,
which, with the rest of her Merit, makes me long to see her mine. I
wish you wou'd dispense with the Canonical Hour, and let it be this
very Night.
Sir _Tun._ O not so soon, neither; that's shooting my Girl before you
bid her stand. No, give her fair warning, we'll sign and seal to-night
if you please; and this Day seven-night--let the Jade look to her
Quarters.
_Young Fash._ This Day seven-night----Why, what do you take me for a
Ghost, Sir? 'Slife, Sir, I'm made of Flesh and Blood, and Bones and
Sinews, and can no more live a Week without your Daughter--than I can
live a Month with her.
[_Aside._
Sir _Tun._ Oh, I'll warrant you, my Hero; young Men are hot, I know,
but they don't boil over at that rate, neither; besides, my Wench's
Wedding Gown is not come home yet.
_Young Fash._ O, no matter, Sir; I'll take her in her Shift. [_Aside._]
A Pox of this old Fellow, he'll delay the Business till my damn'd Star
finds me out, and discovers me. [_To Sir ~Tun.~_] Pray, Sir, let it be
done without Ceremony; 'twill save Money.
Sir _Tun._ Money----Save Money when _Hoyden_'s to be marry'd? Udswoons,
I'll give my Wench a Wedding-Dinner, tho' I go to Grass with the King
of _Assyria_ for't; and such a Dinner it shall be, as is not to be
cook'd in the poaching of an Egg. Therefore, my Noble Lord, have a
little Patience, we'll go and look over our Deeds and Settlements
immediately; and as for your Bride, tho' you may be sharp-set before
she's quite ready, I'll engage for my Girl, she stays your Stomach at
last.
[_Exeunt._
[Illustration]
+ACT+ IV. +SCENE+ I.
_Enter Miss ~Hoyden~ and ~Nurse~._
_Nurse._ Well, Miss, how do you like your Husband that is to be?
_Miss._ O Lord, Nurse, I'm so overjoy'd, I can scarce contain myself.
_Nurse._ O, but you must have a care of being too fond; for Men now
a-days hate a Woman that loves 'em.
_Miss._ Love him! Why do you think I love him, Nurse? I'cod, I
would not care if he were hang'd, so I were but once married to
him----No----that which pleases me, is to think what Work I'll make
when I get to _London_; for when I am a Wife and a Lady both, Nurse,
I'cod, I'll flant it with the best of 'em.
_Nurse._ Look, look, if his Honour be not a coming to you; now if I
were sure you wou'd behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me
that have brought you up, I'd leave you alone together.
_Miss._ That's my best Nurse, do as you wou'd be done by; trust us
together this once; and if I don't shew my Breeding from the Head to
the Foot of me, may I be twice married, and die a Maid!
_Nurse._ Well, this once I'll venture you; but if you disparage me----
_Miss._ Never fear, I'll shew him my Parts, I'll warrant him.
[_Exit ~Nurse~._
_Sola._
These old Women are so wise when they get a poor Girl into their
Clutches; but ere it be long, I shall know what's what, as well as the
best of 'em.
_Enter ~Young Fashion~._
_Young Fash._ Your Servant, Madam, I'm glad to find you alone; for I
have something of Importance to speak to you about.
_Miss._ Sir, (my Lord, I meant) you may speak to me about what you
please, I shall give you a civil Answer.
_Young Fash._ You give me so obliging a one, it encourages me to tell
you in few Words, what I think both for your Interest and mine. Your
Father, I suppose you know, has resolv'd to make me happy in being your
Husband, and I hope I may depend upon your Consent, to perform what he
desires.
_Miss._ Sir, I never disobey my Father in any thing but eating of green
Gooseberries.
_Young Fash._ So good a Daughter must needs be an admirable Wife; I
am therefore impatient till you are mine, and hope you will so far
consider the Violence of my Love, that you won't have the Cruelty to
defer my Happiness so long as your Father designs it.
_Miss._ Pray, my Lord, how long is it?
_Young Fash._ Madam, a thousand Year----a whole Week.
_Miss._ A Week!----why, I shall be an old Woman by that time.
_Young Fash._ And I an old Man, which you'll find a greater Misfortune
than t'other.
_Miss._ Why I thought it was to be to-morrow Morning, as soon as I was
up; I'm sure Nurse told me so.
_Young Fash._ And it shall be to-morrow Morning still, if you'll
consent.
_Miss._ If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey you as my Husband.
_Young Fash._ That's when we are married; till then, I am to obey you.
_Miss._ Why then if we are to take it by turns, it's the same thing:
I'll obey you now, and when we are married, you shall obey me.
_Young Fash._ With all my heart; but I doubt we must get Nurse on our
side, or we shall hardly prevail with the Chaplain.
_Miss._ No more we shan't indeed, for he loves her better than he loves
his Pulpit, and wou'd always be a preaching to her, by his good Will.
_Young Fash._ Why then, my dear little Bedfellow, if you'll call her
hither, we'll try to persuade her presently.
_Miss._ O Lord, I can tell you a way how to persuade her to any thing.
_Young Fash._ How's that?
_Miss._ Why tell her she's a wholesome, comely Woman----and give her
Half a Crown.
_Young Fash._ Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of 'em.
_Miss._ O Gemini, for half that she'd marry you herself: I'll run and
call her.
[_Exit ~Miss~._
_~Young Fashion~ solus._
So, Matters go swimmingly; this is a rare Girl, i'faith; I shall have
a fine time of it with her at _London_. I'm much mistaken if she don't
prove a _March_ Hare all the Year round. What a scampering Chace will
she make on't, when me finds the whole Kennel of Beaux at her Tail! Hey
to the _Park_ and the Play, and the Church, and the Devil; she'll shew
them sport, I'll warrant 'em. But no matter, she brings an Estate will
afford me a separate Maintenance.
_Enter ~Miss~ and ~Nurse~._
_Young Fash._ How do you do, good Mistress Nurse? I desir'd your young
Lady would give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your
extraordinary Care and Conduct in her Education; pray accept of this
small Acknowledgement for it at present, and depend upon my farther
Kindness, when I shall be that happy thing her Husband.
_Nurse._ [_Aside._] Gold by mackins! Your Honour's Goodness is too
great: alas! all I can boast of is, I gave her poor good Milk, and so
your Honour wou'd have said, an you had seen how the poor thing suck't
it----Eh, God's blessing on the sweet Face on't! how it us'd to hang
at this poor Teat, and suck and squeeze, and kick and sprawl it wou'd,
till the Belly on't was so full, it wou'd drop off like a Leech.
[_~Miss~ to ~Nurse~, taking her angrily aside._
Pray one word with you; pr'ythee, Nurse, don't stand ripping up old
Stories, to make one asham'd before one's Love: do you think such
a fine proper Gentleman as he is, cares for a fiddlecome Tale of a
draggle-tail'd Girl;, if you have a mind to make him have a good
Opinion of a Woman, don't tell him what one did then, tell him what
one can do now. [_To_ Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse my
Mismanners to whisper before you, it was only to give some orders about
the Family.
_Young Fash._ O every thing, Madam, is to give way to Business;
besides, good Housewifery is a very commendable Quality in a young Lady.
_Miss._ Pray, Sir, are the young Ladies good Housewives at London Town?
Do they darn their own Linen?
_Young Fash._ O no, they study how to spend Money, not to save it.
_Miss._ I'cod, I don't know but that may be better Sport than t'other,
ha, Nurse!
_Young Fash._ Well, you shall have your Choice when you come there.
_Miss._ Shall I----then by my troth I'll get there as fast as I can.
_To Nurse._] His Honour desires you'll be so kind, as to let us be
marry'd to-morrow.
_Nurse._ To-morrow, my dear Madam?
_Young Fash._ Yes, to-morrow, sweet Nurse, privately; young Folks, you
know, are impatient, and Sir _Tunbelly_ wou'd make us stay a Week for
a Wedding-Dinner. Now all things being sign'd and seal'd, and agreed,
I fancy there cou'd be no great harm in practising a Scene or two of
Matrimony in private, if it were only to give us the better Assurance
when we come to play it in publick.
_Nurse._ Nay, I must confess stolen Pleasures are sweet; but if you
shou'd be married now, what will you do when Sir _Tunbelly_ calls for
you to be wedded?
_Miss._ Why then we will be married again.
_Nurse._ What, twice, my Child?
_Miss._ I'cod, I don't care how often I'm married, not I.
_Young Fash._ Pray, Nurse, don't you be against your young Lady's good;
for by this means she'll have the pleasure of two Wedding-Days.
_Miss to Nurse softly._] And of two Wedding-Nights too, Nurse.
_Nurse._ Well, I'm such a tender-hearted Fool, I find I can refuse you
nothing; so you shall e'en follow your own Inventions.
_Miss._ Shall I? [_Aside._] O Lord, I could leap over the Moon.
_Young Fash._ Dear Nurse, this Goodness of yours shan't go unrewarded;
but now you must employ your Power with Mr. _Bull_ the Chaplain, that
he may do his friendly Office too, and then we shall be all happy; do
you think you can prevail with him?
_Nurse._ Prevail with him----or he shall never prevail with me, I can
tell him that.
_Miss._ My Lord, she has had him upon the hip this seven Year.
_Young Fash._ I'm glad to hear it; however, to strengthen your Interest
with him, you may let him know I have several fat Livings in my Gift,
and that the first that falls shall be in your Disposal.
_Nurse._ Nay, then I'll make him marry more Folks, than one, I'll
promise him.
_Miss._ Faith, do, Nurse, make him marry you too; I'm sure he'll do't
for a fat Living; for he loves Eating more than he loves his _Bible_;
and I have often heard, him say, a fat Living was the best Meat in the
World.
_Nurse._ Ay, and I'll make him commend the Sauce too, or I'll bring his
Gown to a Cassock, I will so.
_Young Fash._ Well, Nurse, whilst you go and settle Matters with him,
your Lady and I will go and take a walk in the Garden.
_Nurse._ I'll do your Honour's Business in the catching up of a Garter.
[_Exit ~Nurse~._
_Young Fash._ [_Giving her his Hand._] Come, Madam, dare you venture
yourself alone with me?
_Miss._ O dear, yes, Sir; I don't think you'll do any thing to me I
need be afraid on.
_Enter ~Amanda~ and ~Berinthia~._
A SONG.
I.
_I Smile at Love, and all its Arts,
The Charming_ Cynthia _cry'd;
Take heed, for Love has piercing Darts,
A wounded Swain reply'd.
Once free and blest as you are now,
I trifled with his Charms;
I pointed at his little Bow,
And sported with his Arms;
Till urg'd too far, Revenge he cries,
A fated Shaft he drew;
It took its passage thro your Eyes,
And to my Heart it flew._
II.
_To tear it thence I try'd in vain;
To strive I quickly found
Was only to increase the Pain,
And to enlarge the Wound.
Ah! much too well, I fear, you know
What pain I'm to endure,
Since what your Eyes alone cou'd do,
Your Heart alone can cure.
And That (grant Heaven I may mistake)
I doubt is doom'd to bear
A Burden for another's sake,
Who ill rewards its Care._
_Aman._ Well, now, _Berinthia_, I'm at leisure to hear what 'twas you
had to say to me.
_Ber._ What I had to say, was only to echo the Sighs and Groans of a
dying Lover.
_Aman._ Phu, will you never learn to talk in earnest of any thing?
_Ber._ Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only
tell you Matter of Fact--you may take it which way you like best; but
if you'll follow the Women of the Town, you'll take it both ways; for
when a Man offers himself to one of them, first she takes him in jest,
and then she takes him in earnest.
_Aman._ I'm sure there's so much jest and earnest in what you say to
me, I scarce know how to take it; but I think you have bewitched me,
for I don't find it possible to be angry with you, say what you will.
_Ber._ I'm very glad to hear it, for I have no mind to quarrel with
you, for some Reasons that I'll not brag of; but quarrel or not, smile
or frown, I must tell you what I have suffer'd upon your account.
_Aman._ Upon my account!
_Ber._ Yes, upon yours; I have been forc'd to sit still and hear you
commended for two Hours together, without one Compliment to myself; now
don't you think a Woman has a blessed time of that?
_Aman._ Alas! I shou'd have been unconcern'd at it; I never knew where
the Pleasure lay of being prais'd by the Men: but pray who was this
that commended me so?
_Ber._ One you have a mortal Aversion to--Mr. _Worthy_: he us'd you
like a Text, he took you all to pieces, but spoke so learnedly upon
every Point, one might see the Spirit of the Church was in him: if you
are a Woman, you'd have been in an Extasy to have heard how feelingly
he handled your Hair, your Eyes, your Nose, your Mouth, your Teeth,
your Tongue, your Chin, your Neck, and so forth. Thus he preach'd for
an Hour; but when he came to use an Application, he observ'd that all
these, without a Gallant, were nothing--Now consider of what has been
said, and Heaven give you Grace to put it in practice!
_Aman._ Alas! _Berinthia_, did I incline to a Gallant, (which you
know I do not) do you think a Man so nice as he, cou'd have the least
concern for such a plain unpolish'd thing as I am? It is impossible!
_Ber._ Now have you a great mind to put me upon commending you.
_Aman._ Indeed that was not my Design.
_Ber._ Nay, if it were, it's all one, for I won't do't, I'll leave that
to your Looking-glass. But to shew you I have some Good-nature left,
I'll commend him, and may be that may do as well.
_Aman._ You have a great mind to persuade me I am in love with him.
_Ber._ I have a great mind to persuade you, you don't know what you are
in love with.
_Aman._ I am sure I am not in love with him, nor never shall be; so let
that pass: but you were saying something you wou'd commend him for.
_Ber._ O, you'd be glad to hear a good Character of him, however.
_Aman._ Psha.
_Ber._ Psha----Well, 'tis a foolish Undertaking for Women in these kind
of Matters, to pretend to deceive one another----Have not I been bred a
Woman as well as you?
_Aman._ What then?
_Ber._ Why then I understand my Trade so well, that whenever I am told
of a Man I like, I cry, Psha! But that I may spare you the pains of
putting me a second time in mind to commend him, I'll proceed, and give
you this account of him: That tho' 'tis possible he may have had Women
with as good Faces as your Ladyship's, (no Discredit to it neither)
yet you must know your cautious Behaviour, with that Reserve in your
Humour, has given him his Death's Wound; he mortally hates a Coquette;
he says 'tis impossible to love where he cannot esteem; and that no
Woman can be esteemed by a Man who has Sense, if she makes herself
cheap in the Eye of a Fool. That Pride to a Woman, is as necessary as
Humility to a Divine; and that far-fetch'd, and dear bought, is Meat
for Gentlemen, as well as for Ladies----In short, that every Woman who
has Beauty may set a price upon herself, and that by under-selling the
Market they ruin the Trade. This is his Doctrine, how do you like it?
_Aman._ So well that, since I never intend to have a Gallant for
myself, if I were to recommend one to a Friend, he shou'd be the Man.
_Enter ~Worthy~._
Bless me, he's here! pray Heaven he did not hear me!
_Ber._ If he did, it won't hurt your Reputation; your Thoughts are as
safe in his Heart as in your own.
_Wor._ I venture in at an unseasonable time of Night, Ladies; I hope if
I am troublesome, you'll use the same freedom in turning me out again.
_Aman._ I believe it can't be late, for Mr. _Loveless_ is not come home
yet, and he usually keeps good Hours.