_Ant._ I own the Crime;

And first I beg thy Pardon,

And after that will get it from _Clarina_;

Which done, I’ll wait upon thee to the Camp,

And suffer one year’s Penance for this Sin,

Unless I could divert this Resolution,

By a Proposal _Clarina_ bid me make you.

_Alb._ What was it, Sir?

_Ant._ I have a Sister, Friend, a handsome Virgin,

Rich, witty, and I think she’s virtuous too;

Return’d last Week from St. _Teresia’s_ Monastery.

_Alb._ Sure any thing that is to thee ally’d,

Must find a more than bare Respect from me;

But certain ‘tis I ne’er shall love again,

And have resolv’d never to marry any,

Where Interest, and not Love, must join our hands.

_Ant._ You cannot tell what Power there lies in Beauty;

Come, you shall see her, and if after that,

You find you cannot love her,

We’ll both to _Candia_, where we both will prove

Rivals in Honour, as we’re now in Love.

--But I’ad forgot to tell thee what I came for;

I must this Evening beg your Company,

Nay, and perhaps your Sword: come along with me,

And by the way I’ll tell you the Adventure.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The Lodgings of _Curtius_.

Enter _Curtius_ and _Pietro_, disguis’d as before.

_Cur._ I wonder we hear no news yet of the Prince,

I hope he’ll come; _Pietro_, be the Bravoes ready,

And the Curtezans?

_Piet._ My Lord, they’ll be here immediately, all well dress’d too.

_Cur._ They be those Bravoes that belong to me?

_Piet._ Yes, Sir, the same;

But _Antonio_ is their Patron.

_Cur._ They be stout and secret; ‘tis well,

Is the Music and all things ready?

For I’ll not be seen till my Part is to be play’d.

What Arms have they?

_Piet._ Pistols, Sir, would you have other?

_Cur._ No, I have not yet consider’d how to kill him,

Nor scarce resolv’d to do so any way.

What makes this strange Irresolution in me?

--Sure ‘tis the force of sacred Amity,

Which but too strictly was observ’d by me.

--My Prince, and Friend, my Wife, and Sister too;

Shall not those last, the powerful first out-do?

My Honour, and my Love, are there ingag’d,

And here, by ties of Duty, I’m oblig’d:

I satisfy but these, if he must bleed;

But ruin the whole Dukedom in the Deed,

The hopeful Heir of all their noble Spoils,

And Joy and Recompence of all their Toils.

--Why, so was _Cloris_, _Laura_ too, to me,

Which both were ravish’d from me, Prince, by thee. [Knocks within.

_Piet._ Sir, they be the Bravoes and Curtezans. [_Pietro_ goes out.

_Cur._ ‘Tis well, I need not talk with them,

They understand their work.

_Piet._ They do, my Lord, and shall be ready at your stamp;

They are all _Neapolitans_, you know, Sir.

_Cur._ Are they the better for that?

_Piet._ Much, Sir, a _Venetian_ will turn to your Enemy,

If he will give him but a Souse more than you have done;

And your _Millanoise_ are fit for nothing but to

Rob the Post or Carrier; a _Genovese_ too

Will sooner kill by Usury than Sword or Pistol;

A _Roman_ fit for nothing but a Spy.

_Cur._ Well, Sir, you are pleasant with my Countrymen.

_Piet._ I’ll be so with my own too, Sir; and tell you,

That a _Maltan_, who pretends to so much Honour

And Gravity, are fit only to rob their Neighbours

With pretence of Piety,

--And a _Cicilian_ so taken up with Plots,

How to kill his Vice-Roy, that it keeps them

From being Rogues to a less degree.

But I have done, Sir, and beg your pardon.

_Cur._ Didst leave the Letter, I commanded thee,

For _Laura_?

_Piet._ I did, my Lord.

Enter _Lorenzo_.

_Lor._ Well, here’s the Prince just coming.

_Cor._ Pray, Sir, conduct him in,

I’m ready for him.

[Ex. _Cur._ and _Piet._

Enter the Prince, conducted by two Women in Masquerade, with

Lights, he endeavouring to take off their Masks.

[Ex. two Women.

[He walks about while this Song is singing.

_What is the recompence of War,

But soft and wanton Peace?

What the best Balsam to our Scars,

But that which _Venus_ gave to _Mars_,

When he was circled in a kind Embrace?_

_Behold a Prince, who never yet

Was vanquished in the Field;

Awhile his Glories must forget,

And lay his Laurels at the feet

Of some fair Female Power, to whom he’ll yield._

_Fred._ What’s this the Preparation?

_Lor._ Yes, so it should seem; but had you met

With so many defeats as I have done to night,

You would willingly excuse this Ceremony.

Musick for the Dance.

Enter _Antonio_ with _Ismena_, _Alberto_ with _Clarina_, _Laura_

and _Cloris_ with two Men more, and all dress’d in Masquerade,

with Vizards; they dance. The Prince sets down: the Dance being

done, they retire to one side; and _Alberto_ comes and presents

him _Clarina_, and bows and retires; who puts off her Mask, and

puts it on again, and retires.

_Fred._ She’s wondrous fair;

Sure in his whole Cabal he cannot show a fairer--

_Lor._ She resembles _Clarina_; I wish your Highness

Would see further, and then perhaps this would

Fall to my lot, for I love her for likeness sake.

[_Antonio_ presents _Ismena_, and retires as the other.

_Fred._ This I confess out-does the others;

An Innocency dwells upon her Face,

That’s strangely taking, is it not, _Lorenzo_?

_Lor._ To say truth, she is very fine indeed.

[They present _Laura_.

_Fred._ Hah! I am amaz’d; see, _Lorenzo_,

Dost thou not know that Face?

_Lor._ O’ my Conscience and Soul, ‘tis my own Sister _Laura_;

Why, how now, Mistress,

Do things go thus with you, i’faith?

[She shakes her Hand, as not understanding him.

_Ant._ Sir, she understands you not.

_Lor._ Is it not _Laura_ then?

_Ant._ No, Sir, it is a Stranger.

_Fred._ Let her be what she will, I’ll have her.

[_Fred._ seems to talk, when she answers in Grimaces.

_Lor._ There have been Examples in the World

Of the good Offices done by a Brother to a Sister;

But they are very rare here,

And therefore will surely be the more acceptable.

Well, Sir, have you fix’d, that I may chuse?

_Fred._ I have, and had he thousands more, [_Lor._ goes to _Clar._

I would refuse them all for this fair Creature.

Enter _Pietro_.

_Piet._ Sir, all things are ready as you desire,

But my Master must first speak with you alone.

_Fred._ About the Price, I’ll warrant you;

Let him come in: [All go out but _Fred_, to him _Cur._

--Are you the Master of the Ceremony?

_Cur._ I am.

_Fred._ Be speedy then, and by my Impatiency

To be with that agreeable Stranger,

Guess at my Approbation of the Ladies, and which I chuse.

_Cur._ Your mighty Heat, Sir, will be soon allay’d.

_Fred._ Shall it?

_Cur._ Yes, Sir, it shall, for you must die.

_Fred._ Sure thou art mad to tell me so, whoe’er thou be’st,

Whilst I have this about me. [Draws.

_Cur._ That, Sir, you draw in vain; stand off-- [Offers a Pistol.

_Fred._ What new conceited Preparation’s this?

_Cur._ Sir, when you know this Face, it will inform you.

[Pulls off his false Beard.

_Fred._ _Curtius_! I am betray’d, oh Villain! [Offers to fight.

_Cur._ Ho, within there--

[He calls, and all the masked Men come out, and offer their

Pistols at _Frederick_.

_Fred._ Hold, I am the Prince of _Florence_.

_Cur._ These, Sir, are Rogues, and have no sense of ought,

But Mischief in their Souls;

Gold is their Prince and God,--go, be gone-- [They withdraw.

--See, Sir, I can command them.

_Fred._ _Curtius_, why dost thou deal thus treacherously with me?

Did I not offer thee to fight thee fairly?

_Cur._ ‘Tis like the Injuries, Sir, that you have done me;

Pardon me if my Griefs make me too rude,

And in coarse terms lay all your Sins before you.

--First, Sir, you have debauch’d my lovely Sister,

The only one I had;

The Hope and Care of all our noble Family:

Thou, Prince, didst ravish all her Virtue from her,

And left her nothing but a desperate sense of Shame,

Which only serv’d to do her self that Justice,

Which I had executed, had she not prevented me.

_Fred._ In this, upon my Soul, you do me wrong.

_Cur._ Next, (Oh, how unlike a brave and generous Man!)

Without a Cause, you cast me from your Bosom;

Withdrew the Honour of your promis’d Friendship,

And made me partner in my Sister’s Fate;

Only with this difference, that she

You left to act a Murder on her self;

And mine you would have been so kind to’ve done

With your own hand, but my respect prevented it.

--Next, Sir, you ravish’d _Laura_ from me,

And under a pretence of sacred Friendship,

You prov’d your self the worst of Enemies;

And that’s a Crime you dare not say was Ignorance,

As you perhaps will plead your Sin to _Cloris_ was.

_Fred._ _Cloris_, why, what hast thou to do with _Cloris_?

_Cur._ She was my Sister, _Frederick_.

_Fred._ Thy Sister!

_Cur._ Yes, think of it well,

A Lady of as pure and noble Blood,

As that of the great Duke thy Father,

Till you, bad Man, infected it.

--Say, should I murder you for this base Action,

Would you not call it a true Sacrifice?

And would not Heaven and Earth forgive it too?

_Fred._ No, had I known that she had been thy Sister,

I had receiv’d her as a Gift from Heaven;

And so I would do still.

_Cur._ She must be sent indeed from Heaven,

If you receive her now.

_Fred._ Is _Cloris_ dead? Oh, how I was to blame! [Weeps.

--Here thou mayst finish now the Life thou threaten’st.

_Cur._ Now, Sir, you know my Justice and my Power;

Yet since my Prince can shed a Tear for _Cloris_,

I can forgive him; here, Sir,--send me to _Cloris_,

[Kneels, and offers his Sword.

That Mercy possibly will redeem the rest

Of all the Wrongs you’ve done me;

And you shall find nothing but Sorrow here,

And a poor broken Heart that did adore you.

_Fred._ Rise, _Curtius_, and divide my Dukedom with me;

Do any thing that may preserve thy Life,

And gain my Pardon; alas, thy Honour’s safe,

Since yet none knows that _Cloris_ was thy Sister,

Or if they do, I must proclaim this truth;

She dy’d thy Prince’s Wife.

_Cur._ These Tidings would be welcome to my Sister,

And I the fitting’st Man to bear that News.

[Offers to stab himself; is held by _Frederick_, _Laura_, and

_Cloris_, who come in with _Isabella_, dress’d like _Philibert_,

and the rest.

_Lau._ Stay, _Curtius_, and take me with thee in the way.

_Cur._ _Laura_, my dearest _Laura_! how came you hither?

_Lau._ Commanded by your Letter; have you forgot it?

_Fred._ _Curtius_, look here, is this not _Cloris’. Face?

_Cur._ The same; Oh my sweet Sister, is it thee?

[_Curtius_ goes to embrace her, she goes back.

_Fred._ Do not be shy, my Soul, it is thy Brother.

_Cur._ Yes, a Brother who despis’d his Life,

When he believ’d yours lost or sham’d:

But now the Prince will take a care of it.

_Clo._ May I believe my Soul so truly bless’d?

_Fred._ Yes, _Cloris_, and thus low I beg thy pardon [Kneels.

For all the Fears that I have made thee suffer.

Enter all the rest, first _Antonio_ and _Alberto_, without their

Vizors.

_Clo._ Rise, Sir, it is my Duty and my Glory.

_Alb._ Sir, we have Pardons too to beg of you.

_Fred._ _Antonio_ and _Alberto_, what, turn’d Bravoes?

_Cur._ I am amaz’d.

_Ant._ You’ll cease your Wonder, Sir, when you shall know,

--Those Braves which formerly belong’d to you,

Are now maintain’d by me; which _Pietro_ hir’d

For this night’s service; and from them we learnt

What was to be done, (though not on whom)

But that we guess’d, and thought it but our duty

To put this Cheat on _Curtius_;

Which had we seen had been resolv’d to kill you,

Had been by us prevented:

The Ladies too would needs be Curtezans

To serve your Highness.

_Fred._ I’m much oblig’d to them, as you.

--_Cloris_, a while I’ll leave thee with thy Brother,

Till I have reconcil’d thee to my Father:

To marry me, is what he long has wish’d for,

And will, I know, receive this News with Joy. [Exit Prince.

_Lor._ Here’s fine doings; what am I like to come to if he

Turn honest now? This is the worst piece of Inconstancy

He ever was guilty of; to change ones Humour, or so,

Sometimes, is nothing: but to change Nature,

To turn good on a sudden, and never give a Man

Civil warning, is a Defeat not be endur’d;

I’ll see the end on’t though. [Goes out.

_Alb._ Here, _Antonio_--imagine how I love thee,

Who make thee such a Present.

[Gives him _Clarina_, who is dressed just as _Ismena_ was, and

_Ismena_ in a Masquing Habit.

_Ant._ _Clarina_, can you pardon my Offence,

And bless me with that Love,

You have but justly taken from me?

_Clar._ You wrong me, Sir, I ne’er withdrew my Heart,

Though you, but too unkindly, did your Confidence.

_Ant._ Do not upbraid me; that I was so to blame,

Is shame enough: pray pardon, and forget it.

_Clar._ I do.

_Ant._ _Alberto_, to shew my Gratitude in what I may,

I beg you would receive _Ismena_ from me.

_Alb._ Who’s this?

_Ant._ Ismena, whom I promis’d thee.

_Alb._ It is _Clarina_; do you mock my Pain? [Shows _Ismena_.

_Ant._ By Heaven, not I; this is _Clarina_, Sir.

_Alb._ That thy Wife _Clarina!_

A Beauty which till now I never saw.

_Ant._ Sure thou art mad, didst thou not give her me but now,

And hast not entertain’d her all this night?

_Alb._ Her Habit and her Vizard did deceive me;

I took her for this lady,--Oh bless’d Mistake!

_Ism._ I see you’re in the dark, but I’ll unfold the Riddle,

--Sir, in the Passage from the Monastery,

Attended only by my Confessor,

A Gentleman, a Passenger, in the same Boat,

Address’d himself to me;

And made a many little Courtships to me:

I being veil’d, he knew not who receiv’d them,

Nor what Confusion they begot in me.

At the first sight, I grew to great esteems of him,

But when I heard him speak--

I’m not asham’d to say he was my Conqueror.

_Alb._ Oh, Madam, was it you?

Who by your Conversation in that Voyage,

Gave me Disquiets,

Which nothing but your Eyes could reconcile again?

_Ism._ ‘Twas I whom you deceiv’d with some such Language.

--After my coming home I grew more melancholy,

And by my silence did increase my Pain;

And soon _Clarina_ found I was a Lover,

Which I confess’d at last, and nam’d the Object.

She told me of your Friendship with _Antonio_,

And gave me hopes that I again should see you:

--But _Isabella_ over-heard the Plot,

Which, Sir, _Antonio_ did contrive with you,

To make a feigned Courtship to _Clarina_,

And told us all the story.

_Alb._ Oh, how I’m ravish’d with my Happiness!

_Ism._ _Clarina_, Sir, at first was much inrag’d,

And vow’d she would revenge her on _Antonio_;

But I besought her to be pleas’d again,

And said I would contrive a Counter-Plot,

Should satisfy her Honour and Revenge.

Thus, Sir, I got a Garment like to hers;

And to be courted, though but in jest, by you,

I run all hazards of my Brother’s Anger,

And your opinion of my Lightness too.

_Clar._ ‘Twas a Temptation, Sir, I would not venture on,

Lest from the reasons of a just Revenge,

And so much Beauty as _Alberto_ own’d,

My Virtue should not well secure your Interest.

_Ant._ But why, _Ismena_, was that killing Plot,

When I was hid behind the Arras? for now I confess all.

_Ism._ To make _Alberto_ confident of my Love,

And try his Friendship to the utmost point.

--_Alberto_ too I found had some reserves,

Which I believ’d his Amity to you.

_Alb._ Yes, Madam, whilst I took you for his Wife,

I thought it crime enough but to adore you;

But now I may with honour own my Passion:

I will, _Ismena_, confidently assure you,

That I will die, unless you pity me.

_Ism._ She that durst tell you, Sir, how much she lov’d,

When you believ’d it was a Sin to do so,

Will now make good that Promise with _Antonio’s_ leave.

_Ant._ With perfect Joy, _Ismena_, I resign thee,

[_Ant._ gives him _Ism._

_Alb._ By double Ties you now unite our Souls;

Though I can hardly credit what I see,

The Happiness so newly is arriv’d. [To _Ant._

Enter _Prince_, _Lorenzo_, and _Guilliam_, who comes up scraping

to _Cloris_.

_Fred._ My Father is the kindest Man on Earth,

And _Cloris_ shall be welcome to his Bosom;

Who’ll make him happy in my Reformation.

--Here, _Curtius_, take _Laura_, who, I find,

Had rather be my Sister than my Mistress:

The Duke commands it so.

_Cur._ Till you have pardon’d me my late Offences,

I must deny myself so great a Happiness. [_Cur._ kneels.

_Fred._ Rise, you have it.

Enter _Salvator_.

_Sal._ Is here not a Runegado belongs to me?

_Lau._ No, Sir, my Faith’s entire,

And _Curtius_ has the keeping of it.

_Sal._ Who made him Master of it, hau?

_Lau._ Heaven, my Inclinations and the Prince.

_Sal._ Three powerful Opposers;

Take her, since it must be so,

And mayst thou be happy with her.

_Fred._ _Alberto_, would this Court afforded

A Lady worthy thee.

_Alb._ Sir, I’m already sped, I humbly thank you.

_Lor._ Sped, quoth ye? Heaven defend

Me from such Fortune.

_Fred._ _Lorenzo_, I had forgot thee; thou shalt e’en marry too.

_Lor._ You may command me any thing but marrying.

_Isab._ What think you then of a smooth-fac’d Boy?

_Lor._ A Pox on him, sure he will not tell now, will he?

_Isab._ My Lord, I beg your leave to challenge _Lorenzo_.

_Fred._ What, to a Duel, _Philibert_?

_Lor._ _Phil._ _Phil._ hold, do not ruin the Reputation

Of a Man that has acquir’d Fame amongst the female Sex;

I protest I did but jest.

_Isab._ But, Sir, I’m in earnest with you.

_Fred._ This is not _Philibert_.

_Isab._ No, Sir, but _Isabella_--that was _Philibert_.

[Pointing to _Cloris_.

_Clo._ Yes, Sir, I was the happy Boy to be belov’d,

When _Cloris_ was forgotten.

_Fred._ Oh, how you raise my Love and Shame!

But why did _Isabella_ change her Habit?

_Clo._ Only to take my place, lest you should miss me,

Who being with _Laura_, at the Lodgings of _Clarina_,

And comparing the Words of her Letter

With what the Bravoes had confess’d to _Antonio_,

We found the Plot which was laid for you,

And join’d all to prevent it.

_Fred._ ‘Twas sure the work of Heaven.

_Isab._ And now, Sir, I come to claim a Husband here.

_Fred._ Name him, and take him.

_Isab._ _Lorenzo_, Sir.

_Lor._ Of all Cheats, commend me to a Waiting-Gentlewoman;

I her Husband?

_Ant._ I am a Witness to that Truth.

_Fred._ ‘Tis plain against you; come, you must be honest.

_Lor._ Will you compel me to’t against my will?

Oh Tyranny, consider, I am a Man of Quality and Fortune.

_Isab._ As for my Qualities, you know I have sufficient,

And Fortune, thanks to your Bounty, considerable too.

_Fred._ No matter, he has enough for both.

_Lor._ Nay, Sir, an you be against me,

‘Tis time to reform in my own defence;

But ‘tis a thing I never consider’d, or thought on.

_Fred._ Marry first, and consider afterwards.

_Lor._ That’s the usual way, I confess;

Come, _Isabella_, since the Prince commands it,

I do not love thee, but yet I’ll not forswear it;

Since a greater Miracle than that is wrought,

And that’s my marrying thee;

Well, ‘tis well thou art none of the most beautiful,

I should swear the Prince had some designs on thee else.

_Clo._ Yes, _Guilliam_, since thou hast been so faithful,

I dare assure thee _Lucia_ shall be thine.

[_Clo._ speaks aside to _Guil._ _Guil._ bows.

_Fred._ Come, my fair _Cloris_, and invest thy self

In all the Glories which I lately promis’d:

--And, Ladies, you’ll attend her to the Court,

And share the Welcomes which the Duke provides her;

Where all the Sallies of my flattering Youth

Shall be no more remember’d, but as past.

Since ‘tis a Race that must by Man be run,

I’m happy in my Youth it was begun;

It serves my future Manhood to improve,

Which shall be sacrific’d to War and Love.

_Curtain Falls._

EPILOGUE,

Spoken by _Cloris_.

Ladies, the Prince was kind at last,

But all the Danger is not past;

I cannot happy be till you approve

My hasty condescension to his Love.

‘Twas want of Art, not Virtue, was my Crime;

And that’s, I vow, the Author’s Fault, not mine.

She might have made the Women pitiless,

But that had harder been to me than this:

She might have made our Lovers constant too,

A Work which Heaven it self can scarcely do;

But simple Nature never taught the way

To hide those Passions which she must obey.

E’en humble Cottages and Cells,

Where Innocence and Virtue dwells,

Than Courts no more secure can be

From Love and dangerous Flattery.

Love in rural Triumph reigns,

As much a God amongst the Swains,

As if the Sacrifices paid

Were wounded Hearts by Monarchs made:

And this might well excuse th’ Offence,

If it be so to love a Prince.

But, Ladies, ‘tis your Hands alone,

And not his Power, can raise me to a Throne;

Without that Aid I cannot reign,

But will return back to my Flocks again.

_Guilliam_ advances.

_Guil._ How, go from Court! nay, zay not zo.

Hear me but speak before you go:

Whoy zay the Leadies should refuse ye,

The Bleads I’m sure would better use ye--

So long as ye are kind and young,

I know they’ll clap ye right or wrong.

* * * * *

* * * *

NOTES: The Amorous Prince

NOTES ON THE TEXT.

+Dramatis Personæ+

p. 123 _Dramatis Personæ._ I have added to the list ‘_Salvator_,

Father to _Lorenzo_ and _Laura_.’ ‘Ismena’ is spelled ‘Ismenia’

throughout by 1724.

+ACT I: Scene i+

p. 124, l. 10 _Should those._ 4to 1671 reads ‘Dwell’st perceive us’

as a separate line. Throughout the play, except in lines as this

specially noted, I carefully follow the metrical division of 4to 1671.

1724 prints many speeches and whole scenes as prose which the quarto

gives as verse. It is noticeable that the edition of 1711 follows the

quarto.

p. 125, l. 17 _Bays._ 1724 ‘Bay’.

+ACT I: Scene ii+

p. 127, l. 31 _Exit Pietro._ 1724 ‘Exit.’ which would tend to a

confusion here.

p. 131, l. 1 _Thinking._ 4to 1671 ends this line at ‘Life’ and makes

‘Might ... Virtue’ a second line.

+ACT I: Scene iii+

p. 133, l. 15 _accompted._ 1724 ‘accounted’.

p. 134, l. 34 _a my._ 1724 ‘on my’.

p. 137, l. 15 _They retire._ 4to 1671 ‘Exeunt.’

+ACT I: Scene iv+

p. 137, l. 16 _Scene IV. The Same._ All previous editions ‘Scene IV.’

p. 140, l. 28 _fixt._ 1724 ‘fit’.

p. 141, l. 2 _me alone._ 1724 ‘me all alone’.

p. 141, l. 28 _Ism. I can._ 1724 wrongly gives this speech to

Isabella.

p. 144, l. 4 _if there need an Oath between us--_ 1724 ‘is there need

of Oaths between us?’

+ACT II: Scene i+

p. 144, l. 15 _Gal. My Lord._ All previous editions give Galliard’s

lines with speech-prefix ‘Ser.’

p. 145, l. 30 _An._ 4to 1671 ‘And’.

p. 146, l. 30 _Exit._ I have supplied this stage direction.

+ACT II: Scene ii+

p. 146, l. 31 _Antonio’s House._ I have added the locale.

p. 147, l. 10 _hurt ones._ 4to 1671 ‘hurts one’. 1724 ‘hurt one’.

p. 147, l. 16 _Cure._ 1724 ‘spare’.

+ACT II: Scene iii+

p. 152, l. 18 _The Street._ I have supplied this locale.

p. 152, l. 32 _being retir’d._ 1724 ‘retires’.

p. 154, l. 34 _Pag._ All previous editions here give speech-prefix

‘Boy’. The alteration from ‘Page’ to ‘Boy’ is quite unnecessary.

p. 155, l. 13 _Lor. and Page run._ All previous editions ‘Lor. runs

away’, but obviously the Page accompanies his master.

+ACT II: Scene iv+

p. 156, l. 1 _Antonio’s House._ I have supplied this locale.

p. 157, l. 10 _Puts on the Veil._ 1724 merely reads ‘Exeunt.’

+ACT II: Scene v+

p. 157, l. 12 _A Chamber._ I have supplied the locale.

p. 157, l. 29 _Exit Page._ I have added this stage direction.

p. 158, l. 17 _you will believe._ 1724 omits ‘will’.

+ACT III: Scene i+

p. 160, l. 7 _A Room._ I have supplied the locale.

p. 161, l. 23 _you’re._ 1671 ‘your’.

+ACT III: Scene ii+

p. 163, l. 19 _A Street._ I have supplied this locale.

+ACT III: Scene iii+

p. 171, l. 30 _Galliard._ 4to 1671 has ‘with a Galliard’, and to

Galliard’s lines gives speech-prefix ‘Serv.’

p. 172, l. 6 _and his Page._ I have marked the Page’s entrance here.

It is not noted by previous editions.

p. 173, l. 16 _Ex. Page._ 4to 1671 ‘Ex. Boy.’

p. 174, l. 6 _Bone Mine._ 4to 1671 ‘Bon Meen’.

p. 174, l. 13 _with Musick._ I have added these words.

+ACT IV: Scene i+

p. 176, l. 30 _did not hate._ 1724 omits ‘not’.

p. 177, l. 22 _never._ 4to 1671 ‘ever’.

p. 177, l. 32 _Joys._ 4to 1671 ‘Joy’.

p. 178, l. 10 _Ism. Know it was._ Both 4to 1671, and 1724 read ‘No,

it was’, which does not give sense. There can be little doubt ‘Know’

is the correct reading.

p. 178, l. 18 _slight._ 1724 ‘flight’.

+ACT IV: Scene ii+

p. 178, l. 29 _A Street._ I have added this locale, which no previous

edition marks.

+ACT IV: Scene iii+

p. 183, l. 25 _Frederick’s Chamber._ I have added this locale.

p. 184, l. 22 _oft._ 1724 ‘soft’.

p. 185, l. 35 _Exeunt Musick._ I have inserted this stage direction.

p. 186, l. 3 _Exit Page._ I have supplied this.

+ACT IV: Scene iv+

p. 187, l. 23 _A Street._ I have added this locale.

p. 188, l. 3 _Antonio’s Valet._ 4to 1671 simply ‘Vallet.’ 1724

‘Valet.’ The servant is obviously Antonio’s man.

p. 188, l. 27 _foutering._ 1724 ‘soutering’.

p. 189, l. 2 _To some Tune like him._ Only in 4to 1671.

p. 189, l. 9 _And quite unveil’d._ Only 4to 1671 gives this line.

+ACT IV: Scene v+

p. 190, l. 31 _Antonio’s House._ I have supplied the locale.

+ACT V: Scene i+

p. 193, l. 10 _Laura’s Chamber._ I have added the locale.

+ACT V: Scene ii+

p. 197, l. 30 _A Grove._ I have supplied this locale.

p. 199, l. 36 _Teresia’s._ 4to 1671 ‘_Teretia’s_’.

p. 200, l. 3 _certain ‘tis._ 4to 1671 ‘it is certain’.

+ACT V: Scene iii+

p. 200, l. 28 _What Arms._ 4to 1671 gives this line to Pietro.

p. 201, l. 21 _Millanoise._ 1724 ‘Milanese’.

p. 201, l. 22 _Genovese._ 1724 ‘Genoese’.

p. 201, l. 27 _a Maltan who pretends._ 1724 ‘the Maltese, who

pretend’.

p. 201, l. 30 _a Cicilian._ 1724 ‘the Sicilians’.

p. 201, l. 31 _his._ 1724 ‘their’. The alterations made by 1724 and

the confusion of plurals and singular in this passage, which I have

left untouched, are noticeable.

p. 202, l. 27 _sets._ 1724 ‘_sits_’.

p. 203, l. 5 _others._ 1724 ‘other’.

p. 203, l. 12 _O’._ 4to 1671 ‘A’.’

p. 204, l. 20 _their._ 4to 1671 ‘_the_’.

p. 206, l. 33 _Visors._ 1724 ‘_Vizards_’.

p. 207, l. 5 _Braves._ 1724 ‘Bravoes’.

p. 209, l. 19 _’.was a Temptation._ 1724 quite erroneously gives this

speech to Cloris.

p. 212, l. 13 _Clo. speaks aside to Guil._ 1724 ‘Aside to Guil.’

p. 212, l. 24 _Curtain Falls._ Only in 4to 1671.

+Epilogue+

p. 213, l. 5 _E’en humble._ 4to 1671 omits ‘E’en’.

p. 213, l. 22 _Leadies._ 1724 ‘Ladies’.

NOTES: CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY.

+Prologue+

p. 121 _Great Johnson’s way._ cf. what Mrs. Behn says in her ‘Epistle

to the Reader’ prefacing _The Dutch Lover_ (Vol. I, p. 224), of the

Jonsonian enthusiast: ‘a man the most severe of Johnson’s Sect.’

p. 121 _Nokes and Angel._ The two celebrated low comedians. Angel

died in the spring of 1673. He was a great farceur, but gagged

unmercifully, to the no small annoyance of the poets.

p. 121 _Cataline._ Jonson’s tragedy was revived with great splendour

at the King’s House, Friday, 18 December, 1668, and remained a stock

play until the retirement of Hart (who excelled in Catiline) at the

Union in 1682. Michael Mohun was famous in Cethegus, and Mrs. Corey

in Sempronia. Pepys found the play itself rather dull as a whole

‘though most fine in clothes, and a fine Scene of the Senate, and of

a fight, as ever I saw in my life.’ A year before its actual

production his crony, Harry Harris, a member of the rival theatre

had ‘talked of _Catiline_ which is to be suddenly acted at the King’s

House; and there all agree that it cannot be well done at that house,

there not being good actors enough; and Burt acts Cicero, which they

all conclude he will not be able to do well. The King gives them £500

for robes, there being, as they say, to be sixteen scarlet robes.’

(11 December, 1667.) In the first quarto (1672), of Buckingham’s _The

Rehearsal_, Bayes refers to _Catiline_ saying that his design in a

certain scene is ‘_Roman_ cloaths, guilded Truncheons, forc’d

conceipt, smooth Verse, and a Rant.’ The words ‘Roman cloaths’ are

omitted in all subsequent editions.

p. 121 _the Comick Hat._ In 1670 there was produced at the Theatre

Royal, Dryden’s _The Conquest of Granada_, Part I. The witty prologue

was ‘spoken by Mrs. Ellen Gwyn’ (who acted Almahide) ‘in a

Broad-Brimm’d Hat, and Waist Belt’. It commences thus:--

This jest was first of t’other house’s making,

And five times tried, has never fail’d of taking;

For ‘twere a shame a poet should be kill’d

Under the shelter of so broad a shield.

This is the hat, whose very sight did win ye

To laugh and clap as tho’ the devil were in ye.

As then, for Nokes, so now I hope you’ll be

So dull, to laugh, once more, for love of me.

Two slightly different explanations are given of the jest. Theatrical

tradition has it that Dryden supplied Nell Gwynne, who was plump and

petite, with this hat of the circumference of a cart wheel, in

ridicule of a hat worn by Nokes of the Duke’s company whilst playing

Ancient Pistol. It is again said that in May, 1670, whilst the Court

was at Dover to receive the Duchess of Orleans, the Duke’s Company

played there Shadwell’s _The Sullen Lovers_, and Caryl’s _Sir Salomon;

or, The Cautious Coxcomb_, in which latter comedy Nokes acted Sir

Arthur Addle, a bawling fop. The dress of the French gallants

attending the Duchess was characterised by an excessively short laced

scarlet or blue coat, a very broad waist-belt and a wide-leaved hat.

Nokes appeared on the stage in a still shorter coat, a huger

waist-belt, and a hat of preposterous dimensions. The Duke of Monmouth

buckled his own sword to the actor’s side, and, according to old

Downes, our comedian looked more like a dressed-up ape or a quiz on

the French than Sir Arthur Addle. The English Court was straightway

convulsed with laughter at this mimicry, which seems, to say the

least, in highly questionable taste. When Nell Gwynne appeared and

burlesqued the biter, Charles II, who was present at the first

performance of _The Conquest of Granada_, well nigh died of merriment,

and her verve in delivering Dryden’s witty lines wholly completed her

conquest of the King. Nell Gwynne did not appear on the boards after

1670.

p. 121 _The Jig and Dance._ cf. note (on p. 43), Vol. III, p. 477:

_A Jigg_ (_The Town Fop_). The Jig is in this prologue clearly

distinct from a dance. Act IV, sc. iii (p. 185): ‘Cloris dances a

Jig’-- (i.e. the simple dance).

+ACT I: Scene iii+

p. 133 _Capriol._ Capriole (French) signifies a leap made by a horse

without advancing.

+ACT I: Scene iv+

p. 140 _Clarina why thus clouded?_ Similar expressions in Davenant’s

_The Siege of Rhodes_ (4to 1663), Part 1, the Second Entry:--

_Mustapha._ I bring the morning pictur’d in a cloud.

And in Sir William Barclay’s _The Lost Lady_ (folio, 1639), Act II:--

Enter _Phillida_ veiled who talks to _Ergasto_ aside and then

goes out.

_Cleon._ From what part of the town comes this fair day

In a cloud that makes you look so cheerfully?

are burlesqued in _The Rehearsal_, III, v:--

_Vols._ Can vulgar vestments high-born beauty shroud?

Thou bring’st the Morning pictur’d in a Cloud.

+ACT III: Scene ii+

p. 164 _... is welcome._ Buckingham parodies this in _The Rehearsal_,

IV, iii:--

_Cordelia._ My lieges, news from _Volscius_ the prince.

_Usher._ His news is welcome, whatso’er it be.

_Smith._ How, sir, do you mean that? Whether it be good or bad?

+ACT III: Scene iii+

p. 172 _tabering._ Beating on; tapping; drumming. This rare word

occurs in _Nahum_, II, vii: ‘Her maids shall lead her as with the

voice of doves tabering upon their breasts.’

+ACT IV: Scene ii+

p. 180 _Hansel’d._ To handsel is to inaugurate with some ceremony of

an auspicious kind, e.g. to begin the New Year by presenting a new

comer with a gift.

p. 183 _She leapt into the River._ _The Rehearsal_, Act V, burlesques

this:-- ‘_The Argument of the Fifth Act_ ... _Cloris_ in despair,

drowns herself: and Prince _Pretty-man_, discontentedly, walks by the

River side.’

+ACT IV: Scene iv+

p. 188 _foutering._ Fouter (Fr. foutre; Lat. futuere), _verbum

obscaenum_. cf. the noun in phrase ‘to care not a fouter’ (footra,

footre, foutre), _2 Henry IV_, V, iii. To ‘fouter’ is also used

(a vulgarism and a provincialism) in a much mitigated sense = to

meddle about aimlessly, to waste time and tongue doing nothing, as

of a busybody.

p. 189 _Niperkin._ This would seem to be a slang expression, as Grose

gives it meaning ‘a small measure’. It was also used for the actual

stone jug. cf. D’Urfey, _Pills to Purge Melancholy_ (1719):

‘Quart-pot, Pint-pot, nipperkin.’ _N.E.D._, quoting this passage,

explains as ‘a small quantity of wine, ale, or spirits.’

p. 190 _Camphire Posset._ Camphor had a high reputation as an

antaphrodisiac. cf. Dryden, _The Spanish Friar_ (1681), Act I, where

Gomez says of his wife: ‘I’ll get a physician that shall prescribe

her an ounce of camphire every morning, for her breakfast, to abate

incontinency’. also Congreve, _The Way of the World_ (1700), IV, xii:

‘You are all camphire and frankincense, all chastity and odour.’

* * * * *

* * * *

Cross-References from Critical Notes: _The Amorous Prince_

p. 121 _The Jig and Dance._ cf. note (on p. 43), Vol. III, p. 477:

_A Jigg (The Town Fop)_.

_Town Fop_ note:

p. 43 _A Jigg._ There were, in Post-Restoration times, two

interpretations of the word Jig. Commonly speaking it was taken to

mean exactly what it would now, a simple dance. Nell Gwynne and Moll

Davis were noted for the dancing of Jigs. cf. Epilogue to Buckingham’s

_The Chances_ (1682):--

The Author dreads the strut and meen

Of new prais’d Poets, having often seen

Some of his Fellows, who have writ before,

When Nel has danc’d her Jig, steal to the Door,

Hear the Pit clap, and with conceit of that

Swell, and believe themselves the Lord knows what.

Thus at the end of Lacy’s _The Old Troop_ (31 July, 1668), we have

‘a dance of two hobby horses in armour, and a Jig.’ Also shortly

before the epilogue in Shadwell’s _The Sullen Lovers_ (1668) we read,

‘Enter a Boy in the habit of Pugenello and traverses the stage, takes

his chair and sits down, then dances a Jig.’

But it must be remembered that beside the common meaning there was a

gloss upon the word derived from Elizabethan stage practice. In the

prologue to _The Fair Maid of the Inn_ (licensed 1626), good plays are

spoken of as often scurvily treated, whilst

A Jigge shall be clapt at, and every rhime

Prais’d and applauded by a clam’rous chyme.

The Pre-Restoration Jig was little other indeed than a ballad opera in

embryo lasting about twenty-five minutes and given as an after-piece.

It was a rhymed farce in which the dialogue was sung or chanted by the

characters to popular ballad tunes. But after the Restoration the Jig

assumed a new and more serious complexion, and came eventually to be

dovetailed with the play itself, instead of being given at the fag end

of the entertainment. Mr. W. J. Lawrence, the well-known theatrical

authority to whom I owe much valuable information contained in this

note, would (doubtless correctly) attribute the innovation to

Stapylton and Edward Howard, both of whom dealt pretty freely in these

Jigs. Stapylton has in Act V of _The Slighted Maid_ (1663) a ‘Song in

Dialogue’ between Aurora and Phoebus with a chorus of Cyclops, which

met with some terrible parody in _The Rehearsal_ (cf. the present

editor’s edition of _The Rehearsal_, p. 145). Indeed all extrinsic

songs in dialogue, however serious the theme, were considered ‘Jigs’.

A striking example would be the Song of the Spirits in Dryden’s

_Tyrannic Love_, Act IV.

In Post-Restoration days a ballad sung in the streets by two persons

was frequently called a Jig, presumably because it was a ‘song in

dialogue’. Numerous examples are to be found amongst the Roxburgh

Ballads.

The Jig introduced in _Sir Timothy Tawdrey_ would seem to have been

the simple dance although not improbably an epithalamium was also

sung.

* * * * *

* * * *

Errors and Irregularities: The Amorous Prince

In the Notes, alternation between .’ and ‘. at paragraph-end is as

printed. The abbreviation “cf.” is always lower-case.

_Cur._ Never, I hope. [. missing]

Enter _Curtius_. / _Cur._ How! the Prince! [Enter _Curtuis_.]

_Cur._ I cry you mercy, Sir, pray what are you; [; unchanged]

[Aside to her. / [Ex. _Isab._

[Aside. / [Ex. _Page_ and _Guil._ with Musick.

[_brackets before “Exit” added for consistency in e-text_]

They set _Ism._ in a Chair [they]

_Cur._ _Guilliam_--the same [Gulliam]

‘Tis something cold, I’ll go take a Niperkin of Wine, [, as shown]

_Lau._ Forward, dear _Cloris_. [, for .]

[She shakes her Hand, as not understanding him.

[_text unchanged: error for Head?_]

But my Master must first speak with you alone, [, for .]

Notes on Text

p. 180 ... an auspicious kind, e.g. to begin [kind.]

* * * * *

* * * *

* * * * *

THE WIDOW RANTER.

ARGUMENT.

Bacon, General of the English in Virginia, has fought with great success

against the Indians and repeatedly beaten back their tribes, although

the Supreme Council, by whom the Colony is governed, have refused him a

commission, and, in spite of his victories, persist in treating him as a

rebel and a traitor. This Council indeed is composed of a number of

cowards and rogues, who through sheer malice and carping jealousy

attribute Bacon’s prowess to his known passion for Semernia, the Indian

Queen, and who feign to think that he fights merely with the hope of

slaying her husband, the King Cavernio. These rascals are none the less

mightily afraid of the general’s valour and spirit, so they determine to

entice him from his camp under various specious pretexts, and then, once

he is completely in their power, to have him executed or assassinated.

With this object in view they send a friendly letter asking him to

attend the Council, to accept a regular commission, and to raise new

forces. On his way to the town Bacon is attacked by an ambush of

soldiers, whom he beats off with the help of one of his lieutenants,

Fearless, backed by Lieutenant Daring and a troop of his own men, who

capture Whimsey and Whiff, two very prominent justices, instigators of

the plot. He accordingly appears before the Council with a couple of

prisoners. The populace, who are all for their hero, realizing the

treachery, raise a riot, and throw the Councillors into a state of the

utmost confusion and alarm. They spur themselves to action, however, and

under the leadership of Colonel Wellman, Deputy Governor, proceed to

take the field against Bacon, who is declared an open and lawless rebel.

When he appears the soldiers, none the less, join themselves to their

hero, and as at the same moment news is brought that the Indians have

risen and are attacking the town, Bacon is induced to lead the troops

against the foe; and in a pitched battle Cavernio is slain. That night

whilst his army is revelling after their victory the Council and their

party with infamous treachery suddenly attack the camp. There are

further skirmishes with a remnant of the Indian fugitives, and in one of

these frays Bacon accidentally wounds Semernia, who is flying disguised

in man’s attire. He recognizes her voice, and she sinks into his arms to

die. As he is weeping over her body Fearless rushes in with drawn sword

shouting that the day is all but lost. Bacon, his mistress dead, deeming

that his men are overcome by the attack from the town and that he will

himself be captured, takes poison which he carries concealed in the

pommel of his sword, whilst Daring and his soldiers are heard shouting

’.ictory! Victory!’ The hero, however, expires at the moment his men

have conquered, but the Council speedily come to terms, naming with a

commission Daring as General, whilst Colonel Wellman announces his

intention of weeding this body of rogues and cowards against the arrival

of the new Governor who is expected from England.

Daring, upon his commission, is wedded to the Widow Ranter, first

mistress and then wife of old Colonel Ranter, recently deceased,

a wealthy, buxom virago who has followed her soldier during the fighting

in man’s attire and even allowed herself to be taken prisoner by a young

gallant, Hazard, just landed from England, and who has occupied his time

in an amour with a certain Mrs. Surelove. Hazard, upon his arrival,

meets an old acquaintance, Friendly, who loves and is eventually united

to Crisante, daughter to Colonel Downright; whilst Parson Dunce, the

Governor’s chaplain, is made to marry Mrs. Flirt, the keeper of a

hostelry, a good dame with whom he has been a little too familiar on a

promise of matrimony.

SOURCE.

The admirable comic scenes and characters of _The Widow Ranter_ are

original invention, but Mrs. Behn has founded the serious and historical

portion of her play upon a contemporary pamphlet, _Strange News from

Virginia being a full and true account of the Life and Death of

Nathaniel Bacon esq. London: printed for Wm. Harris, 1677_. With regard

to the catastrophe and Bacon’s love for the Indian Queen, Mrs. Behn has

quite legitimately departed from the narrative, but otherwise she keeps

fairly closely to her sources. There is also a _History of Bacon and

Ingram’s Rebellion in Virginia in 1675-76_, written at the time but

first published in 1867.

The _Dictionary of National Biography_ gives a very ample yet concise

account of Bacon, with valuable references to original documents. He

was the son of Sir Thomas Bacon of Friston Hall, Suffolk. Born in 1642,

about 1673 he married Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edward Duke, Bart.,

and shortly afterwards in a spirit of roving adventure emigrated to

Virginia. Here he was elected a member of the Council, and his estates

being especially exposed to Indian raids the volunteer colonists chose

him General. The Governor, however, delayed to send the necessary

commission, and Bacon having in this interval attacked a band of Indian

marauders was promptly declared a rebel. The Governor was thereupon

forced to yield by a general revolt, and in a second expedition Bacon

defeated the Indians with terrific slaughter. A little later when

reinforcements had arrived the Governor again declared him an outlaw,

but after a brief struggle was himself obliged to take refuge at sea,

whilst Jamestown fell into the hands of the victorious General, who not

being able to garrison the houses, burned it to the ground. In the midst

of his success, whilst he was busied with new plans for the welfare and

protection of the colonists, Bacon died suddenly, 1676. He left one

daughter, Mary, who married Hugh Chamberlain, M.D., physician to Queen

Anne. Mrs. Behn has drawn his character with remarkable accuracy. Even

his enemies were obliged to allow he possessed extraordinary ability,

and he won all by the grace and charm of his manner. Oldys, in a MS.

note on Langbaine (Mrs. Behn), attributes to the colonist _A Historical

Discourse of the Government of England_ (1647), but the date of

publication sufficiently shows that the antiquary is palpably in error.

Langbaine in his note on _The Widow Ranter_ abruptly and sweepingly

remarks ‘Plot from the known story of Cassius,’ which the _Biographia

Dramatica_ yet more erroneously expands as follows: ‘The tragedy part

of it, particularly the catastrophe of Bacon, is borrowed from the

well-known story of Cassius, who, on the supposition of his friend

Brutus being defeated, caused himself to be put to death by the hand of

his freedman Dandarus.’ C. Cassius Longinus was defeated at Philippi

(B.C. 42), by Antony, and ignorant that the left wing commanded by

Brutus had conquered Octavius, he straightway commanded his freedman

Pindarus to put an end to his life. It is strange that both authorities

should have made this mistake, the more so as Bacon expressly alludes to

the fate of Hannibal, from whose history, and not that of Cassius, Mrs

Behn doubtless borrowed the idea of her hero’s suicide. Cassius is

indeed alluded to but casually, and not by Bacon’s self. Hannibal had

fled to the court of Prusias, King of Bithynia, who, unable to resist

the demands of the Romans, eventually sent troops to arrest his guest.

The great Carthaginian, however, having provided himself with poison in

case of such an event, swallowed the venomed drug to prevent himself

falling into the hands of his enemies. Dullman, Timorous Cornet,

Whimsey, Whiff, and the other Justices of the Peace who appear in this

play are aptly described in _Oroonoko_, where Mrs. Behn speaks of the

Governor’s Council ‘who (not to disgrace them, or burlesque the

Government there) consisted of such notorious villains as Newgate ever

transported; and, possibly, originally were such who understood neither

the laws of God or man, and had no sort of principles to make them

worthy of the name of men; but at the very council-table would

contradict and fight with one another, and swear so bloodily, that it

was terrible to hear and see them. (Some of them were afterwards hanged,

when the Dutch took possession of the place, others sent off in

chains.)’

THEATRICAL HISTORY.

When _The Widow Ranter; or, The History of Bacon in Virginia_ was

produced at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1690--the year after Mrs.

Behn’s death--owing to the slipshod and slovenly way in which it was put

on, or rather, ‘murdered’, to use the phrase of the dedication, it did

not meet with the success so capital a piece fully deserved. Such ample

and needless omissions were made that the intrigue soon became

hopelessly fogged, many incidents seeming absolutely disjointed and

superfluous. For not only were heavier scenes, including the apparition

of Cavernio, cut, but the essential comic relief was woefully

maltreated. The Court House opening of Act III was expunged in its

entirety, whilst other episodes were so mangled and the speeches so

pruned that they proved practically unintelligible. Again, the play was

badly cast. Indifferent performers such as Barnes, Baker, Cudworth, were

entrusted with rôles they were incapable of acting, whilst Daring, the

dashing, gallant, and handsome young officer, who is loved by the Widow,

was alloted to Sanford, of all men most supremely unfitted for the part.

Indeed, it would seem that the casting was done on purpose perversely

and malignly to damn the play. Samuel Sanford, who had joined Davenant’s

company within a year of their opening, had been forced by nature, being

low of stature and crooked of person, rather than by choice, into a line

denoted by such characters as Iago, Creon in Dryden and Lee’s _Oedipus_,

Malignii, Osmund the wizard in _King Arthur_. ‘An excellent actor in

disagreeable characters’ Cibber terms him, and old Aston sums him up

thus: ‘Mr. _Sanford_, although not usually deem’d an Actor of the first

Rank, yet the Characters allotted him were such, that none besides,

then, or since, ever topp’d; for his Figure, which was diminutive and

mean, (being Round-shoulder’d, Meagre-fac’d, Spindle-shank’d,

Splay-footed, with a sour Countenance and long lean Arms) render’d him a

proper Person to discharge _Jago_, _Foresight_ and _Ma’lignij_, in the

_Villain_.--This Person acted strongly with his Face,--and (as King

_Charles_ said) was the best _Villain_ in the World.’ The performance of

an actor with such a marked personality and unpleasantly peculiar

talents as are thus enumerated, in the rôle of Daring must been

grotesque and distasteful to a degree. In such an accumulation of

unfortunate circumstances there could have been no other event than the

failure of the play, which was so complete as effectually to bar any

chance of subsequent revival. Indeed, there seems to have been only one

feature of any merit: Betty Currer, the original Aquilina in _Venice

Preserv’d_, acted the name part with the greatest spirit and abandon.

To the much Honoured

MADAM WELLDON.

Madam

Knowing Mrs. _Behn_ in her Life-time design’d to Dedicate some of her

Works to you, you have a Naturall Title, and claim to this and I could

not without being unjust to her Memory, but fix your Name to it, who

have not only a Wit above that of most of your Sex; but a goodness and

Affability Extreamly Charming, and Engaging beyond Measure, and perhaps

there are few to be found like you, that are so Eminent for

Hospitallity, and a Ready and Generous Assistance to the distress’d and

Indigent, which are Quallities that carry much more of Divinity with

them, than a Puritannicall outward Zeal for Virtue and Religion.

Our Author, Madam, who was so true a Judge of Wit, was (no doubt of it)

satisfyed in the Patroness she had pitcht upon: If ever she had occasion

for a Wit and Sense like yours ‘tis now, to Defend this (one of the last

of her Works) from the Malice of her Enemies, and the ill Nature of the

Critticks, who have had Ingratitude enough not to Consider the

Obligations they had to her when Living; but to do those Gentlemen

Justice, ‘tis not (altogether) to be Imputed to their Critticism, that

the Play had not that Success which it deserv’d, and was expected by her

Friends; The main fault ought to lye on those who had the management of

it. Had our Authour been alive she would have Committed it to the Flames

rather than have suffer’d it to have been Acted with such Omissions as

was made, and on which the Foundation of the Play Depended: For Example,

they thought fit to leave out a Whole Scene of the _Virginian Court of

Judicature_, which was a lively resemblance of that Country-Justice; and

on which depended a great part of the Plot, and wherein were many

unusuall and very Naturall Jests which would at least have made some

sort of People laugh: In another Part of the Play is Omitted the

appearance of the Ghost of the _Indian King_, kill’d by _Bacon_, and

tho’ the like may have been Represented in other Plays, yet I never

heard or found but that the sight was very agreeable to an Audience, and

very Awfull: besides the Apparition of the Ghost was necessary, for it

was that which struck a Terror in the Queen, and frighten’d her from

heark’ning to the Love of _Bacon_, believing it a horrid thing to

receive the Caresses and Embraces of her Husbands Murderer: And Lastly,

many of the Parts being false Cast, and given to those whose Tallants

and Genius’s suited not our Author’s Intention: These, Madam, are some

of the Reasons that this Play was unsuccessfull, and the best Play that

ever was writ must prove so: if it have the Fate to be Murder’d like

this.

However, Madam, I can’t but believe you will find an hours diversion in

the reading, and will meet with not only Wit, but true Comedy, (tho’

low) by reason many of the Characters are such only as our _Newgate_

afforded, being Criminals Transported.

This play, Madam, being left in my hands by the Author to Introduce to

the Publick, I thought my self oblig’d to say thus much in its defence,

and that it was also a Duty upon me to choose a Patroness proper for it,

and the Author having pitcht upon your Name to do Honour to some of her

Works, I thought your Protection, could be so usefull to none, as to

this, whose owning it may Silence the Malice of its Enemies; Your Wit

and Judgment being to be Submitted to in all Cases; Besides your Natural

Tenderness and Compassion for the Unfortunate, gives you in a manner

another Title to it: The Preference which is due to you upon so many

Accounts is therefore the Reason of this present Address, for at the

Worst, if this Play should be so Unfortunate as not to be thought worthy

of your Acceptance; Yet it is certain, that its worth any Man’s while to

have the Honour of subscribing himself,

Madam,

Your Most Obedient Humble,

Servant,

G. J.

THE WIDOW RANTER:

Or, the History of Bacon in _Virginia_.

PROLOGUE,

By Mr. _Dryden_.

Heaven save ye, Gallants; and this hopeful Age,

Y’ are welcome to the downfal of the Stage:

The Fools have laboured long in their Vocation;

And Vice (the Manufacture of the Nation)

O’er-stocks the Town so much, and thrives so well,

That Fops and Knaves grow Drugs, and will not sell.

In vain our Wares on Theaters are shown,

When each has a Plantation of his own.

His Cruse ne’er fails; for whatsoe’er he spends,

There’s still God’s plenty for himself and Friends.

Shou’d Men be rated by Poetick Rules,

Lord, what a Poll would there be rais’d from Fools!

Mean time poor Wit prohibited must lie,

As if ‘twere made some _French_ Commodity.

Fools you will have, and rais’d at vast expence;

And yet as soon as seen, they give offence.

Time was, when none would cry that Oaf was me,

But now you strive about your Pedigree:

Bauble and Cap no sooner are thrown down,

But there’s a Muss of more than half the Town.

Each one will challenge a Child’s part at least,

A sign the Family is well increas’d.

Of Foreign Cattle there’s no longer need,

When we’re supply’d so fast with _English_ Breed,

Well! Flourish, Countrymen; drink, swear and roar,

Let every free-born Subject keep his Whore;

And wandring in the Wilderness about,

At end of Forty Years not wear her out.

But when you see these Pictures, let none dare

To own beyond a Limb or single share:

For where the Punk is common, he’s a Sot,

Who needs will father what the Parish got.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MEN.

_Indian King_ called _Cavernio_, Mr. _Bowman_.

_Bacon_, General of the _English_, Mr. _Williams_.

Colonel _Wellman_, Deputy Governor, Mr. _Freeman_.

Col. _Downright_, a loyal honest Colonel, Mr. _Harris_.

_Hazard_ } Two Friends known to one another Mr. _Alexander_,

_Friendly_ } many Years in _England_, Mr. _Powell_.

_Daring_ } Lieutenant Generals to _Bacon_ Mr. _Sandford_,

_Fearless_ } Mr. _Cudworth_.

_Dullman_, a Captain, Mr. _Bright_.

_Timorous Cornet_, } Mr. _Underhill_,

_Whimsey_, } Justices of the Peace, Mr. _Trefuse_,

_Whiff_, } and very great Cowards, Mr. _Bowen_,

_Boozer_, } Mr. _Barns_.

_Brag_, a Captain.

_Grubb_, One complain’d of by Capt. _Whiff_,

for calling his Wife Whore.

A Petitioner against _Brag_, Mr. _Blunt_.

Parson _Dunce_, formerly a Farrier, fled from

_England_, and Chaplain to the Governour, Mr. _Baker_.

_Jeffery_, Coachman to _Widow Ranter_.

_Cavaro_, an _Indian_, Confidant to the

_Indian King_.

_Jack_, a Sea-Boy.

Clerk; Boy; An Officer; Messenger; Seaman; 2nd Seaman;

A Highlander.

WOMEN.

_Indian Queen_, call’d _Semernia_,

belov’d by _Bacon_, Mrs. _Bracegirdle_.

Madam _Surelove_, belov’d by _Hazard_, Mrs. _Knight_.

Mrs. _Chrisante_, Daughter to Colonel

_Downright_, Mrs. _Jordan_.

_Widow Ranter_, in love with _Daring_, Mrs. _Currer_.

Mrs. _Flirt_, a Tapstress, Mrs. _Cory_.

Mrs. _Whimsey_.

Mrs. _Whiff_.

_Jenny_, Maid to _Widow Ranter_.

_Nell_, Maid at the Inn.

_Anaria_, Confidante to the _Indian Queen_.

Maid to Madam _Surelove_.

Priests, Indians, Bailiffs, Soldiers, Rabble, Negroes,

with other Attendants.

SCENE, _Virginia_: in _Bacon’s_ Camp, _James-Town_ and the

surrounding Country.

ACT I.

SCENE I. A Room with several Tables.

Enter _Hazard_ in a travelling Habit, and _Jack_, a Sea-Boy,

carrying his Portmantle.

_Haz._ What Town’s this, Boy?

_Boy._ _James-Town_, Master.

_Haz._ Take care my Trunk be brought ashore to night, and there’s for

your Pains.

_Boy._ God bless you, Master.

_Haz._ What do you call this House?

_Boy._ Mrs. _Flirt’s_, Master, the best House for Commendation in all

_Virginia_.

_Haz._ That’s well, has she any handsome Ladies, Sirrah?

_Boy._ Oh! she’s woundy handsome her self, Master, and the kindest

Gentlewoman--look, here she comes, Master.--

Enter _Flirt_ and _Nell_.

God bless you, Mistress, I have brought you a young Gentleman here.

_Flirt._ That’s well, honest _Jack_.--Sir, you are most heartily

welcome.

_Haz._ Madam, your Servant. [Salutes her.

_Flirt._ Please you walk into a Chamber, Sir?

_Haz._ By and by, Madam; but I’ll repose here awhile for the coolness of

the Air.

_Flirt._ This is a Publick Room, Sir, but ‘tis at your service.

_Haz._ Madam, you oblige me.

_Flirt._ A fine spoken Person. A Gentleman, I’ll warrant him: come,

_Jack_, I’ll give thee a Cogue of Brandy for old acquaintance.

[Exeunt Landlady and Boy.

[_Hazard_ pulls out Pen, Ink and Paper, and goes to write.

Enter _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Here, _Nell_, a Tankard of cool Drink, quickly.

_Nell._ You shall have it, Sir.

_Friend._ Hah! who’s that Stranger? he seems to be a Gentleman.

_Haz._ If I should give credit to mine Eyes, that should be _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Sir, you seem a Stranger; may I take the liberty to present my

Service to you?

[Exit _Nell_.

_Haz._ If I am not mistaken, Sir, you are the only Man in the World whom

I would soonest pledge; you’ll credit me, if three Year’s absence has

not made you forget _Hazard_.

_Friend._ _Hazard_, my Friend! come to my Arms and Heart.

_Haz._ This unexpected Happiness o’erjoys me. Who could have imagin’d to

have found thee in _Virginia_? I thought thou hadst been in _Spain_ with

thy Brother.

_Friend._ I was so till ten Months since, when my Uncle Colonel

_Friendly_ dying here, left me a considerable Plantation; and, faith,

I find Diversions not altogether to be despis’d; the God of Love reigns

here with as much power as in Courts or popular Cities. But prithee what

Chance (fortunate to me) drove thee to this part of the new World.

_Haz._ Why, faith, ill Company, and that common Vice of the Town,

Gaming, soon run out my younger Brother’s Fortune: for imagining, like

some of the luckier Gamesters, to improve my Stock at the Groom

Porter’s, I ventur’d on, and lost all. My elder Brother, an errant Jew,

had neither Friendship nor Honour enough to support me; but at last

being mollified by Persuasions, and the hopes of being for ever rid of

me, sent me hither with a small Cargo to seek my Fortune--

_Friend._ And begin the World withal.

_Haz._ I thought this a better Venture than to turn sharping Bully,

Cully in Prentices and Country Squires, with my Pocket full of false

Dice, your high and low Flats and Bars; or turn Broker to young Heirs;

take up Goods to pay tenfold at the Death of their Fathers, and take

Fees on both sides; or set up all night at the Groom-Porter’s, begging

his Honour to go a Guinea the better of the lay. No, _Friendly_, I had

rather starve abroad, than live pity’d and despis’d at home.

_Friend._ Thou art in the right, and art come just in the nick of time

to make thy Fortune.--Wilt thou follow my Advice?

_Haz._ Thou art too honest to command any thing that I shall refuse.

_Friend._ You must know then, there is about a Mile from _James-Town_ a

young Gentlewoman--no matter for her Birth, her Breeding’s the best this

World affords, she is married to one of the richest Merchants here; he

is old and sick, and now gone into _England_ for the recovery of his

Health, where he’ll e’en give up the Ghost: he has writ her word he

finds no Amendment, and resolves to stay another Year. The letter I

accidentally took up, and have about me; ‘tis easily counterfeited, and

will be of great use to us.

_Haz._ Now do I fancy I conceive thee.

_Friend._ Well, hear me first, you shall get another Letter writ like

this Character, which shall say, you are his Kinsman, that is come to

traffick in this Country, and ‘tis his will you should be received into

his House as such.

_Haz._ Well, and what will come of this?

_Friend._ Why, thou art young and handsome, she young and desiring;

’.were easy to make her love thee; and if the old Gentleman chance to

die, you guess the rest, you are no Fool.

_Haz._ Ay, but if he shou’d return--

_Friend._ If--Why, if she love you, that other will be but a slender Bar

to thy Happiness; for if thou canst not marry her, thou mayst lie with

her: and, Gad, a younger Brother may pick out a pretty Livelihood here

that way, as well as in _England_. Or if this fail, thou wilt find a

perpetual Visiter, the Widow _Ranter_, a Woman bought from the ship by

old Colonel _Ranter_; she served him half a Year, and then he marry’d

her, and dying in a Year more, left her worth fifty thousand Pounds

Sterling, besides Plate and Jewels: She’s a great Gallant, but assuming

the humour of the Country Gentry, her Extravagancy is very pleasant, she

retains something of her primitive Quality still, but is good-natur’d

and generous.

_Haz._ I like all this well.

_Friend._ But I have a further End in this matter; you must know there

is in the same House a young Heiress, one Colonel _Downright’s_

Daughter, whom I love, I think not in vain: her Father indeed has an

implacable Hatred to me, for which reason I can but seldom visit her,

and in this Affair I have need of a Friend in that House.

_Haz._ Me you’re sure of.

_Friend._ And thus you’ll have an opportunity to manage both our Amours:

Here you will find occasion to shew your Courage, as well as express

your Love; for at this time the _Indians_, by our ill Management of

Trade, whom we have armed against our selves, very frequently make War

upon us with our own Weapons; though often coming by the worst, they are

forced to make Peace with us again, but so, as upon every turn they fall

to massacring us wherever we lie exposed to them.

_Haz._ I heard the News of this in _England_, which hastens the new

Governour’s arrival here, who brings you fresh Supplies.

_Friend._ Would he were landed, we hear he is a noble Gentleman.

_Haz._ He has all the Qualities of a Gallant Man: besides, he is nobly

born.

_Friend._ This Country wants nothing but to be peopled with a well-born

Race, to make it one of the best Colonies in the World; but for want of

a Governour we are ruled by a Council, some of whom have been perhaps

transported Criminals, who having acquired great Estates, are now become

your Honour and Right Worshipful, and possess all Places of Authority;

there are amongst them some honest Gentlemen, who now begin to take upon

’.m, and manage Affairs as they ought to be.

_Haz._ _Bacon_ I think was one of the Council.

_Friend._ Now you have named a Man indeed above the common Rank, by

Nature generous, brave, resolv’d and daring; who studying the Lives of

the _Romans_ and great Men, that have raised themselves to the most

elevated Fortunes, fancies it easy for ambitious Men to aim at any pitch

of Glory. I’ve heard him often say, Why cannot I conquer the Universe as

well as _Alexander_? or like another _Romulus_, form a new _Rome_, and

make my self ador’d?

_Haz._ Why might he not? Great Souls are born in common Men sometimes,

as well as Princes.

_Friend._ This Thirst of Glory cherish’d by sullen Melancholy,

I believe, was the first motive that made him in love with the young

_Indian_ Queen, fancying no Hero ought to be without his Princess. And

this was the reason why he so earnestly press’d for a Commission, to be

made General against the _Indians_, which long was promis’d him; but

they fearing his Ambition, still put him off, till the Grievances grew

so high, that the whole Country flock’d to him, and beg’d he would

redress them.--He took the opportunity, and led them forth to fight, and

vanquishing brought the Enemy to fair Terms; but now instead of

receiving him as a Conqueror, we treat him as a Traitor.

_Haz._ Then it seems all the Crime this brave Fellow has committed, is

serving his Country without Authority.

_Friend._ ‘Tis so, and however I admire the Man, I am resolv’d to be of

the contrary Party, that I may make an Interest in our new Governor.

Thus stand Affairs, so that after you have seen Madam _Surelove_, I’ll

present you to the Council for a Commission.

_Haz._ But my Kinsman’s Character--

_Friend._ He was a _Leicestershire_ younger Brother, came over with a

small Fortune, which his Industry has increas’d to a thousand Pounds a

year; and he is now Colonel _John Surelove_, and one of the Council.

_Haz._ Enough.

_Friend._ About it then, Madam _Flirt_ to direct you.

_Haz._ You are full of your Madams here.

_Friend._ Oh! ‘tis the greatest Affront imaginable to call a Woman

Mistress, though but a retail Brandy-monger. Adieu.--One thing more, to

morrow is our Country-Court, pray do not fail to be there, for the

rarity of the Entertainment: but I shall see you anon at _Surelove’s_,

where I’ll salute thee as my first meeting, and as an old Acquaintance

in _England_--here’s Company, farewel.

[Exit _Friend_.

Enter _Dullman_, _Timorous_ and _Boozer_. _Hazard_ sits

at a Table and writes.

_Dull._ Here, _Nell_--Well, Lieutenant _Boozer_, what are you for?

Enter _Nell_.

_Booz._ I am for cooling _Nants_, Major.

_Dull._ Here, _Nell_, a Quart of _Nants_, and some Pipes and Smoke.

_Tim._ And do ye hear, _Nell_, bid your Mistress come in to joke a

little with us; for, adzoors, I was damnable drunk last Night, and I am

better at the Petticoat than the Bottle to day.

[Exit _Nell_.

_Dull._ Drunk last Night, and sick to Day! how comes that about, Mr.

Justice? you use to bear your Brandy well enough.

_Tim._ Ay, your shier Brandy I’ll grant you; but I was drunk at Col.

_Downright’s_ with your high Burgundy Claret.

_Dull._ A Pox of that paulter Liquor, your _English French_ Wine,

I wonder how the Gentlemen do to drink it.

_Tim._ Ay, so do I, ‘tis for want of a little _Virginia_ Breeding: how

much more like a Gentleman ‘tis, to drink as we do, brave edifying Punch

and Brandy.--But they say, the young Noblemen now, and Sparks in

_England_, begin to reform, and take it for their Mornings draught, get

drunk by Noon, and despise the lousy Juice of the Grape.

Enter Mrs. _Flirt_, and _Nell_, with drink, pipes, etc.

_Dull._ Come, Landlady, come, you are so taken up with Parson _Dunce_,

that your old Friends can’t drink a Dram with you.--What, no smutty

Catch now, no Gibe or Joke to make the Punch go down merrily, and

advance Trading? Nay, they say, Gad forgive ye, you never miss going to

Church when Mr. _Dunce_ preaches,--but here’s to you.

[Drinks.

_Flirt._ Lords, your Honours are pleas’d to be merry-- but my service to

your Honour.

[Drinks.

_Haz._ Honours! who the Devil have we here? some of the wise Council at

least, I’d sooner take ‘em for Hoggerds.

[Aside.

_Flirt._ Say what you please of the Doctor, but I’ll swear he’s a fine

Gentleman, he makes the prettiest Sonnets, nay, and sings ‘em himself to

the rarest Tunes.

_Tim._ Nay, the Man will serve for both Soul and Body; for they say he

was a Farrier in _England_, but breaking, turn’d Life-guard-man, and his

Horse dying, he counterfeited a Deputation from the Bishop, and came

over here a substantial Orthodox. But come, where stands the Cup? Here,

my service to you, Major.

_Flirt._ Your Honours are pleased,--but methinks Doctor _Dunce_ is a

very edifying Person, and a Gentleman, and I pretend to know a

Gentleman; for I my self am a Gentlewoman: my Father was a Baronet, but

undone in the late Rebellion, and I am fain to keep an Ordinary now,

Heaven help me.

_Tim._ Good lack, why, see how Virtue may be bely’d. We heard your

Father was a Taylor, but trusting for old _Oliver’s_ Funeral broke, and

so came hither to hide his Head.--But my service to you; what, you are

never the worse?

_Flirt._ Your Honour knows this is a scandalous place, for they say your

Honour was but a broken Excise-Man, who spent the King’s Money to buy

your Wife fine Petticoats; and at last not worth a Groat, you came over

a poor Servant, though now a Justice of the Peace, and of the Honourable

Council.

_Tim._ Adz zoors, if I knew who ‘twas said so, I’d sue him for

_Scandalum Magnatum_.

_Dull._ Hang ‘em, Scoundrels, hang ‘em, they live upon Scandal, and we

are Scandal-proof.--They say too, that I was a Tinker, and running the

Country, robb’d a Gentleman’s House there, was put into _Newgate_, got a

Reprieve after Condemnation, and was transported hither; --and that you,

_Boozer_, was a common Pick-pocket, and being often flogg’d at the

Carts-tale, afterwards turn’d Evidence, and when the Times grew honest

was fain to flie.

_Booz._ Ay, ay, Major, if Scandal would have broke our Hearts, we had

not arriv’d to the Honour of being Privy-Counsellors.--But come, Mrs.

_Flirt_, what, never a Song to entertain us?

_Flirt._ Yes, and a Singer too newly come ashore.

_Tim._ Adz zoors, let’s have it then.

Enter a Girl who sings, they bear the Bob.

_Haz._ Here, Maid, a Tankard of your Drink.

_Flirt._ Quickly, _Nell_, wait upon the Gentleman.

_Dull._ Please you, Sir, to taste of our Liquor.--My service to you.

I see you are a Stranger, and alone; please you to come to our Table?

[He rises and comes.

_Flirt._ Come, Sir, pray sit down here; these are very honourable

Persons, I assure you: This is Major _Dullman_, Major of his

Excellency’s own Regiment, when he arrives; this Mr. _Timorous_, Justice

a Peace in _Corum_; this Captain _Boozer_, all of the honourable

Council.

_Haz._ With your leave, Gentlemen. [Sits.

_Tim._ My service to you, Sir. [Drinks.

What, have you brought over any Cargo, Sir? I’ll be your Customer.

_Booz._ Ay, and cheat him too, I’ll warrant him. [Aside.

_Haz._ I was not bred to Merchandizing, Sir, nor do intend to follow the

drudgery of Trading.

_Dull._ Men of Fortune seldom travel hither, Sir, to see Fashions.

_Tim._ Why, Brother, it may be the Gentleman has a mind to be a Planter;

will you hire your self to make a Crop of Tobacco this Year?

_Haz._ I was not born to work, Sir.

_Tim._ Not work, Sir! Zoors, your Betters have workt, Sir. I have workt

my self, Sir, both set and stript Tobacco, for all I am of the

honourable Council. Not work, quoth a!--I suppose, Sir, you wear your

Fortune upon your Back, Sir?

_Haz._ Is it your Custom here, Sir, to affront Strangers? I shall expect

Satisfaction.

[Rises.

_Tim._ Why, does any body here owe you any thing?

_Dull._ No, unless he means to be paid for drinking with us,--ha, ha,

ha.

_Haz._ No, Sir, I have money to pay for what I drink: here’s my Club, my

Guinea,

[Flings down a Guinea.

I scorn to be oblig’d to such Scoundrels.

_Booz._ Hum--call Men of Honour Scoundrels. [Rise in huff.

_Tim._ Let him alone, let him alone, Brother; how should he learn

Manners? he never was in _Virginia_ before.

_Dull._ He’s some Covent-Garden Bully.

_Tim._ Or some broken Citizen turned Factor.

_Haz._ Sir, you lye, and you are a Rascal.

[Flings the Brandy in his Face.

_Tim._ Adz zoors, he has spil’d all the Brandy.

[_Tim._ runs behind the Door, _Dull_, and _Booz._ strike _Hazard_.

_Haz._ I understand no Cudgel-play, but wear a Sword to right myself.

[Draws, they run off.

_Flirt._ Good Heavens! what, quarelling in my House?

_Haz._ Do the Persons of Quality in this Country treat Strangers thus?

_Flirt._ Alas, Sir, ‘tis a familiar way they have, Sir.

_Haz._ I’m glad I know it.--Pray, Madam, can you inform one how I may be

furnish’d with a Horse and a Guide to Madam _Surelove’s_?

_Flirt._ A most accomplish’d Lady, and my very good Friend, you shall be

immediately--

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Council-Table.

Enter _Wellman_, _Downright_, _Dunce_, _Whimsey_, _Whiff_, and

others.

_Well._ Come, Mr. _Dunce_, though you are no Counsellor, yet your

Counsel may be good in time of Necessity, as now.

_Dun._ If I may give worthy Advice, I do not look upon our Danger to be

so great from the _Indians_, as from young _Bacon_, whom the People have

nick-nam’d _Fright-all_.

_Whim._ Ay, ay, that same _Bacon_, I would he were well hang’d: I am

afraid that under pretence of killing all the _Indians_ he means to

murder us, lie with our Wives, and hang up our little Children, and make

himself Lord and King.

_Whiff._ Brother _Whimsey_, not so hot; with leave of the honourable

Board, my Wife is of opinion, that _Bacon_ came seasonably to our Aid,

and what he has done was for our Defence, the _Indians_ came down upon

us, and ravish’d us all, Men, Women, and Children.

_Well._ If these Grievances were not redrest, we had our Reasons for it;

it was not that we were insensible, Captain _Whiff_, of what we suffer’d

from the Insolence of the _Indians_; but all knew what we must expect

from _Bacon_, if that by lawful Authority he had arrived to so great a

Command as General; nor would we be hufft out of our Commissions.

_Down._ ‘Tis most certain that _Bacon_ did not demand a Commission out

of a design of serving us, but to satisfy his Ambition and his Love; it

being no secret that he passionately admires the _Indian_ Queen, and

under the pretext of a War, intends to kill the King her Husband,

establish himself in her Heart, and on all occasions make himself a more

formidable Enemy than the Indians are.

_Whim._ Nay, nay, I ever foresaw he would prove a Villain.

_Whiff._ Nay, and he be thereabout, my _Nancy_ shall have no more to do

with him.

_Well._ But, Gentlemen, the People daily flock to him, so that his Army

is too considerable for us to oppose by any thing but Policy.

_Down._ We are sensible, Gentlemen, that our Fortunes, our Honours, and

our Lives are at stake; and therefore you are call’d together to consult

what’s to be done in this Grand Affair, till our Governour and Forces

arrive from _England_: the Truce he made with the _Indians_ will be out

to morrow.

_Whiff._ Ay, and then he intends to have another bout with the

_Indians_. Let’s have patience, I say, till he has thrumb’d their

Jackets, and then to work with your Politicks as soon as you please.

_Down._ Colonel _Wellman_ has answer’d that point, good Captain _Whiff_;

’.is the Event of this Battel we ought to dread; and if won or lost,

will be equally fatal for us, either from the _Indians_ or from _Bacon_.

_Dun._ With the Permission of the honourable Board, I think I have hit

upon an Expedient that may prevent this Battel: your Honours shall write

a Letter to _Bacon_, where you shall acknowledge his Services, invite

him kindly home, and offer him a Commission for General--

_Whiff._ Just my _Nancy’s_ Counsel--Dr. _Dunce_ has spoken like a

Cherubin, he shall have my Voice for General; what say you, Brother

_Whimsey_?

_Down._ I say he is a Noble Fellow, and fit for a General.

_Dun._ But conceive me right, Gentlemen; as soon as he shall have

render’d himself, seize him, and strike off his Head at the Fort.

_Whiff._ Hum! his Head--Brother.

_Whim._ Ay, ay, Dr. _Dunce_ speaks like a Cherubin.

_Well._ Mr. _Dunce_, your Counsel in extremity, I confess, is not amiss;

but I should be loth to deal dishonourably with any Man.

_Down._ His Crimes deserve Death, his Life is forfeited by Law, but

shall never be taken by my consent by Treachery: If by any Stratagem we

could take him alive, and either send him for _England_ to receive there

his Punishment, or keep him Prisoner here till the Governour arrive,

I should agree to it; but I question his coming in upon our Invitation.

_Dun._ Leave that to me.

_Whim._ Come, I’ll warrant him, the Rogue’s as stout as _Hector_, he

fears neither Heaven nor Hell.

_Down._ He’s too brave and bold to refuse our Summons, and I am for

sending him for _England_, and leaving him to the King’s Mercy.

_Dun._ In that you’ll find more difficulty, Sir; to take him off here

will be more quick and sudden: for the People worship him.

_Well._ I’ll never yield to so ungenerous an Expedient. The seizing him

I am content in the Extremity wherein we are to follow. What say you,

Colonel _Downright_? shall we send him a Letter now, while this two days

Truce lasts, between him and the _Indians_?

_Down._ I approve it.

_All._ And I, and I, and I.

_Dun._ If your Honours please to make me the Messenger, I’ll use some

Arguments of my own to prevail with him.

_Well._ You say well, Mr. _Dunce_, and we’ll dispatch you presently.

[Ex. _Well._ _Down._ and all but _Whim._ _Whiff._ and _Dunce_.

_Whiff._ Ah, Doctor, if you could but have persuaded Colonel _Wellman_

and Colonel _Downright_ to have hanged him--

_Whim._ Why, Brother _Whiff_, you were for making him a General but now.

_Whiff._ The Counsels of wise States-men, Brother _Whimsey_, must change

as Causes do, d’ye see.

_Dun._ Your Honours are in the right; and whatever those two leading

Counsellors say, they would be glad if _Bacon_ were dispatch’d: but the

punctilio of Honour is such a thing.

_Whim._ Honour, a Pox on’t; what is that Honour that keeps such a bustle

in the World, yet never did good as I heard of?

_Dun._ Why, ‘tis a foolish word only, taken up by great Men, but rarely

practis’d.--But if you wou’d be great Men indeed--

_Whiff._ If we wou’d, Doctor, name, name the way.

_Dun._ Why, you command each of you a Company--when _Bacon_ comes from

the Camp, as I am sure he will, (and full of this silly thing call’d

Honour, will come unguarded too) lay some of your Men in Ambush along

those Ditches by the _Sevana_, about a Mile from the Town; and as he

comes by, seize him, and hang him up upon the next Tree.

_Whiff._ Hum--hang him! a rare Plot.

_Whim._ Hang him!--we’ll do’t, we’ll do’t, Sir, and I doubt not but to

be made General for the Action--I’ll take it all upon my self.

[Aside.

_Dun._ If you resolve upon this, you must about instantly--Thus I shall

at once serve my Country, and revenge my self on the Rascal for

affronting my Dignity once at the Council-Table, by calling me Farrier.

[Ex. _Dr._

_Whiff._ Do you know, Brother, what we are to do?

_Whim._ To do! yes, to hang a General, Brother, that’s all.

_Whiff._ All! but is it lawful to hang any General?

_Whim._ Lawful, yes, that ‘tis lawful to hang any General that fights

against Law.

_Whiff._ But in what he has done, he has serv’d the King and our

Country, and preserv’d our Lives and Fortunes.

_Whim._ That’s all one, Brother; if there be but a Quirk in the Law

offended in this Case, though he fought like _Alexander_, and preserv’d

the whole World from Perdition, yet if he did it against Law, ‘tis

lawful to hang him; why, what, Brother, is it fit that every impudent

Fellow that pretends to a little Honour, Loyalty, and Courage, should

serve his King and Country against the Law? no, no, Brother, these

things are not to be suffer’d in a civil Government by Law

establish’d,--wherefore let’s about it.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. _Surelove’s_ House.

Enter _Ranter_ and _Jeffery_ her Coachman.

_Ran._ Here, _Jeffery_, ye drunken Dog, set your Coach and Horses up,

I’ll not go till the cool of the Evening, I love to ride in _Fresco_.

Enter a _Boy_.

_Coach._ Yes, after hard drinking-- [Aside.] It shall be done, Madam.

[Exit.

_Ran._ How now, Boy, is Madam _Surelove_ at home?

_Boy._ Yes, Madam.

_Ran._ Go tell her I am here, Sirrah.

_Boy._ Who are you pray forsooth?

_Ran._ Why, you Son of a Baboon, don’t you know me?

_Boy._ No, Madam, I came over but in the last Ship.

_Ran._ What, from _Newgate_ or _Bridewell_? from shoveing the Tumbler,

Sirrah, lifting or filing the Cly?

_Boy._ I don’t understand this Country Language, forsooth, yet.

_Ran._ You Rogue, ‘tis what we transport from _England_ first--go, ye

Dog, go tell your Lady the Widow _Ranter_ is come to dine with her--

[Exit _Boy_.] I hope I shall not find that Rogue _Daring_ here sniveling

after Mrs. _Chrisante_: If I do, by the Lord, I’ll lay him thick. Pox on

him, why shou’d I love the Dog, unless it be a Judgment upon me.

Enter _Surelove_ and _Chrisante_.

--My dear Jewel, how do’st do?--as for you, Gentlewoman, you are my

Rival, and I am in Rancour against you till you have renounc’d my

_Daring_.

_Chris._ All the Interest I have in him, Madam, I resign to you.

_Ran._ Ay, but your House lying so near the Camp, gives me mortal

Fears--but prithee how thrives thy Amour with honest _Friendly_?

_Chris._ As well as an Amour can that is absolutely forbid by a Father

on one side, and pursued by a good Resolution on the other.

_Ran._ Hay Gad, I’ll warrant for _Friendly’s_ Resolution, what though

his Fortune be not answerable to yours, we are bound to help one

another.--Here, Boy, some Pipes and a Bowl of Punch; you know my Humour,

Madam, I must smoak and drink in a Morning, or I am maukish all day.

_Sure._ But will you drink Punch in a Morning?

_Ran._ Punch! ‘tis my Morning’s Draught, my Table-drink, my Treat, my

Regalio, my every thing; ah, my dear _Surelove_, if thou wou’d but

refresh and cheer thy Heart with Punch in a Morning, thou wou’dst not

look thus cloudy all the day.

Enter Pipes and a great Bowl, she falls to smoaking.

_Sure._ I have reason, Madam, to be melancholy, I have receiv’d a Letter

from my Husband, who gives me an account that he is worse in _England_

than when he was here, so that I fear I shall see him no more, the

Doctors can do no good on him.

_Ran._ A very good hearing. I wonder what the Devil thou hast done with

him so long? an old fusty weatherbeaten Skeleton, as dried as

Stock-fish, and much of the Hue.--Come, come, here’s to the next, may he

be young, Heaven, I beseech thee.

[Drinks.

_Sure._ You have reason to praise an old Man, who dy’d and left you

worth fifty thousand Pound.

_Ran._ Ay, Gad--and what’s better, Sweetheart, dy’d in good time too,

and left me young enough to spend this fifty thousand Pound in better

Company--rest his Soul for that too.

_Chris._ I doubt ‘twill be all laid out in _Bacon’s_ mad Lieutenant

General _Daring_.

_Ran._ Faith, I think I could lend it the Rogue on good Security.

_Chris._ What’s that, to be bound Body for Body?

_Ran._ Rather that he should love no body’s Body besides my own; but my

fortune is too good to trust the Rogue, my Money makes me an Infidel.

_Chris._ You think they all love you for that.

_Ran._ For that, ay, what else? if it were not for that, I might sit

still and sigh, and cry out, a Miracle! a Miracle! at sight of a Man

within my Doors.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ Madam, here’s a young Gentleman without wou’d speak with you.

_Sure._ With me? sure thou’rt mistaken; is it not _Friendly_?

_Maid._ No, Madam, ‘tis a Stranger.

_Ran._ ‘Tis not _Daring_, that Rogue, is it?

_Maid._ No, Madam.

_Ran._ Is he handsome? does he look like a Gentleman?

_Maid._ He’s handsome, and seems a Gentleman.

_Ran._ Bring him in then, I hate a Conversation without a

Fellow,--hah,--a good handsome Lad indeed.

Enter _Hazard_ with a Letter.

_Sure._ With me, Sir, would you speak?

_Haz._ If you are Madam _Surelove_.

_Sure._ So I am call’d.

_Haz._ Madam, I am newly arriv’d from _England_, and from your Husband

my Kinsman bring you this.--

[Gives a Letter.

_Ran._ Please you to sit, Sir.

_Haz._ She’s extremely handsome. [Aside--sits down.

_Ran._ Come, Sir, will you smoke a Pipe?

_Haz._ I never do, Madam.

_Ran._ Oh, fie upon’t, you must learn then, we all smoke here, ‘tis a

part of good Breeding.--Well, well, what Cargo, what Goods have ye? any

Points, Lace, rich Stuffs, Jewels; if you have, I’ll be your Chafferer,

I live hard by, any body will direct you to the Widow _Ranter’s_.

_Haz._ I have already heard of you, Madam.

_Ran._ What, you are like all the young Fellows, the first thing they do

when they come to a strange Place, is to enquire what Fortunes there

are.

_Haz._ Madam, I had no such Ambition.

_Ran._ Gad, then you’re a Fool, Sir; but come, my service to you; we

rich Widows are the best Commodity this Country affords, I’ll tell you

that.

[This while _Sure._ reads the Letter.

_Sure._ Sir, my Husband has recommended you here in a most particular

manner, by which I do not only find the esteem he has for you, but the

desire he has of gaining you mine, which on a double score I render you,

first for his sake, next for those Merits that appear in your self.

_Haz._ Madam, the endeavours of my Life shall be to express my Gratitude

for this great Bounty.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ Madam, Mr. _Friendly’s_ here.

_Sure._ Bring him in.

_Haz._ _Friendly!_--I had a dear Friend of that name, who I hear is in

these Parts.--Pray Heaven it may be he.

_Ran._ How now, _Charles_.

Enter _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Madam, your Servant--Hah! should not I know you for my dear

friend _Hazard_.

[Embracing him.

_Haz._ Or you’re to blame, my _Friendly_.

_Friend._ Prithee what calm brought thee ashore?

_Haz._ Fortune _de la guerre_, but prithee ask me no Questions in so

good Company, where a Minute lost from this Conversation is a Misfortune

not to be retriev’d.

_Friend._ Dost like her, Rogue-- [Softly aside.

_Haz._ Like her! have I sight, or sense?--Why, I adore her.

_Friend._ Mrs. _Chrisante_, I heard your Father would not be here to

day, which made me snatch this opportunity of seeing you.

_Ran._ Come, come, a Pox of this whining Love, it spoils good Company.

_Friend._ You know, my dear Friend, these Opportunities come but seldom,

and therefore I must make use of them.

_Ran._ Come, come, I’ll give you a better Opportunity at my House to

morrow, we are to eat a Buffalo there, and I’ll secure the old Gentleman

from coming.

_Friend._ Then I shall see _Chrisante_ once more before I go.

_Chris._ Go--Heavens--whither, my _Friendly_?

_Friend._ I have received a Commission to go against the _Indians_,

_Bacon_ being sent for home.

_Ran._ But will he come when sent for?

_Friend._ If he refuse we are to endeavour to force him.

_Chris._ I do not think he will be forc’d, not even by _Friendly_.

_Friend._ And, faith, it goes against my Conscience to lift my Sword

against him, for he is truly brave, and what he has done, a Service to

the Country, had it but been by Authority.

_Chris._ What pity ‘tis there should be such false Maxims in the World,

that noble Actions, however great, must be criminal for want of a Law to

authorise ‘em.

_Friend._ Indeed ‘tis pity that when Laws are faulty they should not be

mended or abolish’d.

_Ran._ Hark ye, _Charles_, by Heaven, if you kill my _Daring_ I’ll

pistol you.

_Friend._ No, Widow, I’ll spare him for your sake.

[They join with _Surelove_.

_Haz._ Oh, she’s all divine, and all the Breath she utters serves but to

blow my Flame.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ Madam, Dinner’s on the Table--

_Sure._ Please you, Sir, to walk in--come, Mr. _Friendly_.

[She takes _Hazard_.

_Ran._ Prithee, good Wench, bring in the Punch-Bowl.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. A Pavilion.

Discovers the _Indian King_ and _Queen_ sitting in State, with

Guards of _Indians_, Men and Women attending: To them _Bacon_

richly dress’d, attended by _Daring_, _Fearless_ and other

Officers; he bows to the _King_ and _Queen_, who rise to receive

him_.

_King._ I am sorry, Sir, we meet upon these Terms, we who so often have

embrac’d as Friends.

_Bac._ How charming is the Queen! [Aside.] War, Sir, is not my Business

nor my Pleasure: Nor was I bred in Arms, my Country’s Good has forc’d me

to assume a Soldier’s Life; and ‘tis with much regret that I employ the

first Effects of it against my Friends: yet whilst I may--whilst this

Cessation lasts, I beg we may exchange those Friendships, Sir, we have

so often paid in happier Peace.

_King._ For your part, Sir, you’ve been so noble, that I repent the

fatal Difference that makes us meet in Arms. Yet though I’m young, I’m

sensible of Injuries; and oft have heard my Grandsire say, That we were

Monarchs once of all this spacious World, till you, an unknown People,

landing here, distress’d and ruin’d by destructive Storms, abusing all

our charitable Hospitality, usurp’d our Right, and made your Friends

your Slaves.

_Bac._ I will not justify the Ingratitude of my Forefathers, but finding

here my Inheritance, I am resolv’d still to maintain it so, and by my

Sword which first cut out my Portion, defend each Inch of Land, with my

last drop of Blood.

_Queen._ Even his Threats have Charms that please the Heart.

[Aside.

_King._ Come, Sir, let this ungrateful Theme alone, which is better

disputed in the Field.

_Queen._ Is it impossible there might be wrought an understanding

betwixt my Lord and you? ‘Twas to that end I first desired this Truce,

my self proposing to be Mediator, to which my Lord _Cavernio_ shall

agree, could you but condescend--I know you are noble: And I have heard

you say our tender Sex could never plead in vain.

_Bac._ Alas! I dare not trust your pleading, Madam: a few soft Words

from such a charming Mouth would make me lay the Conqueror at your Feet,

as a Sacrifice for all the Ills he has done you.

_Queen._ How strangely am I pleas’d to hear him talk. [Aside.

_King._ _Semernia_, see, the Dancers do appear;

Sir, will you take your Seat? [To _Bacon_.

[He leads the _Queen_ to a Seat, they sit and talk.

_Bac._ Curse on his Sports that interrupted me, my very Soul was

hovering at my Lip, ready to have discover’d all its Secrets. But oh!

I dread to tell her of my pain, and when I wou’d an awful trembling

seizes me, and she can only from my dying Eyes read all the Sentiments

of my captive Heart.

[Sits down, the rest wait.

Enter _Indians_ that dance Anticks: after the Dance the _King_

seems in discourse with _Bacon_, the _Queen_ rises and comes

forth.

_Queen._ The more I gaze upon this _English_ Stranger, the more

Confusion struggles in my Soul: Oft I have heard of Love, and oft this

Gallant Man (when Peace had made him pay his idle Visits) has told a

thousand Tales of dying Maids; and ever when he spoke, my panting Heart,

with a prophetick Fear in Sighs reply’d, I shall fall a Victim to his

Eyes.

Enter an _Indian_.

_Indian._ Sir, here’s a Messenger from the _English_ Council desires

admittance to the General.

[To the _King_.

_Bac._ With your Permission he may advance. [To the _King_.

Re-enter _Indian_ with _Dunce_. A Letter.

_Dun._ All Health and Happiness attend your Honour, this from the

honourable Council.

[Gives him a Letter.

_King._ I’ll leave you till you have dispatch’d the Messenger, and then

expect your presence in the Royal Tent.

[Exeunt _King_, _Queen_, and _Indians_.

_Bac._ Lieutenant, read the Letter. [To _Daring_.

_Daring_ reads.

SIR, the necessity of what you have acted makes it pardonable, and

we could wish we had done the Country and our selves so much Justice

as to have given you that Commission you desired.--We now find it

reasonable to raise more Forces, to oppose these Insolences, which

possibly yours may be too weak to accomplish, to which end the

Council is ordered to meet this Evening, and desiring you will come

and take your place there, and be pleas’d to accept from us a

Commission to command in Chief in this War.--Therefore send those

Soldiers under your Command to their respective Houses, and haste,

Sir, to your affectionate Friends--

_Fear._ Sir, I fear the Hearts and Pen did not agree when this was writ.

_Dar._ A plague upon their shallow Politicks! Do they think to play the

old Game twice with us?

_Bac._ Away, you wrong the Council, who of themselves are honourable

Gentlemen; but the base coward Fear of some of them, puts the rest on

tricks that suit not with their Nature.

_Dun._ Sir, ‘tis for noble ends you are sent for, and for your safety

I’ll engage my Life.

_Dar._ By Heaven, and so you shall;--and pay it too with all the rest of

your wise-headed Council.

_Bac._ Your Zeal is too officious now; I see no Treachery, and can fear

no Danger.

_Dun._ Treachery! now Heavens forbid, are we not Christians, Sir, all

Friends and Countrymen? believe me, Sir, ‘tis Honour calls you to

increase your Fame, and he who would dissuade you is your Enemy.

_Dar._ Go cant, Sir, to the Rabble--for us, we know you.

_Bac._ You wrong me when you but suspect for me; let him that acts

dishonourably fear. My innocence and my good Sword’s my Guard.

_Dar._ If you resolve to go, we will attend you.

_Bac._ What, go like an invader! No, _Daring_, the Invitation’s

friendly, and as a Friend attended only by my menial Servants, I’ll wait

upon the Council, that they may see that when I could command it, I came

an humble Suppliant for their Favour.--You may return, and tell ‘em I’ll

attend.

_Dun._ I kiss your Honour’s Hands-- [Goes out.

_Dar._ ‘Sdeath, will you trust the faithless Council, Sir, who have so

long held you in hand with Promises, that Curse of States-men, that

unlucky Vice that renders even Nobility despis’d?

_Bac._ Perhaps the Council thought me too aspiring, and would not add

Wings to my ambitious Flight.

_Dar._ A pox of their considering Caps, and now they find that you can

soar alone, they send for you to knip your spreading Wings. Now, by my

Soul, you shall not go alone.

_Bac._ Forbear, lest I suspect you for a Mutineer; I am resolv’d to go.

_Fear._ What, and send your Army home; a pretty fetch.

_Dar._ By Heaven, we’ll not disband, not till we see how fairly you are

dealt with: If you have a Commission to be General, here we are ready to

receive new Orders: If not, we’ll ring them such a thundring Peal shall

beat the Town about their treacherous Ears.

_Bac._ I do command you not to stir a Man, till you’re inform’d how I am

treated by ‘em.--leave me, all.

[Exeunt Officers.

[While _Bacon_ reads the Letter again, to him the _Indian Queen_

with Women waiting.

_Queen._ Now while my Lord’s asleep in his Pavilion, I’ll try my Power

with the General for an Accommodation of a Peace: The very dreams of War

fright my soft Slumbers that us’d to be employ’d in kinder Business.

_Bac._ Ha!--the Queen--what Happiness is this presents it self which all

my Industry could never gain?

_Queen._ Sir-- [Approaching him.

_Bac._ Prest with the great extremes of Joy and Fear, I trembling stand,

unable to approach her.

_Queen._ I hope you will not think it Fear in me, though timorous as a

Dove by nature fram’d: Nor that my Lord, whose Youth’s unskill’d in War,

can either doubt his Courage, or his Forces, that makes me seek a

Reconciliation on any honourable Terms of Peace.

_Bac._ Ah Madam! if you knew how absolutely you command my Fate, I fear

but little Honour would be left me, since whatsoe’er you ask me I should

grant.

_Queen._ Indeed I would not ask your Honour, Sir, that renders you too

brave in my esteem. Nor can I think that you would part with that. No,

not to save your Life.

_Bac._ I would do more to serve your least commands than part with

trivial Life.

_Queen._ Bless me, Sir, how came I by such a Power?

_Bac._ The Gods and Nature gave it you in your Creation, form’d with all

the Charms that ever grac’d your Sex.

_Queen._ Is’t possible? am I so beautiful?

_Bac._ As Heaven, or Angels there.

_Queen._ Supposing this, how can my Beauty make you so obliging?

_Bac._ Beauty has still a Power over great Souls, and from the moment I

beheld your Eyes, my stubborn Heart melted to compliance, and from a

nature rough and turbulent, grew soft and gentle as the God of Love.

_Queen._ The God of Love! what is the God of Love?

_Bac._ ‘Tis a resistless Fire, that’s kindled thus--at every

[Takes her by the Hand and gazes on her.

gaze we take from such fine Eyes, from such bashful Looks, and such

soft Touches--it makes us sigh,--and pant as I do now, and stops the

breath when e’er we speak of Pain.

_Queen._ Alas for me if this should be Love! [Aside.

_Bac._ It makes us tremble when we touch the fair one; and all the Blood

runs shivering through the Veins, the Heart’s surrounded with a feeble

Languishment, the Eyes are dying, and the Cheeks are pale, the Tongue is

faltring, and the Body fainting.

_Queen._ Then I’m undone, and all I feel is Love. [Aside.

If Love be catching, Sir, by Looks and Touches, let us at distance

parley--or rather let me fly, for within view is too near--

[Aside.

_Bac._ Ah! she retires--displeas’d I fear with my presumptuous

Love,--Oh, pardon, fairest Creature.

[Kneels.

_Queen._ I’ll talk no more, our Words exchange our Souls, and every Look

fades all my blooming Honour, like Sun-beams on unguarded Roses--Take

all our Kingdoms --make our People Slaves, and let me fall beneath your

conquering Sword: but never let me hear you talk again, or gaze upon

your Eyes.--

[Goes out.

_Bac._ She loves! by Heaven, she loves! and has not Art enough to hide

her Flame, though she have cruel Honour to suppress it. However, I’ll

pursue her to the Banquet.

[Exit.

SCENE II. The Widow _Ranter’s_ Hall.

Enter _Surelove_ fan’d by two Negroes, followed by _Hazard_.

_Sure._ This Madam _Ranter_ is so prodigious a Treater --oh! I hate a

Room that smells of a great Dinner, and what’s worse, a desert of Punch

and Tobacco--what! are you taking leave so soon, Cousin?

_Haz._ Yes, Madam, but ‘tis not fit I should let you know with what

regret I go,--but Business will be obey’d.

_Sure._ Some Letters to dispatch to _English_ Ladies you have left

behind--come, Cousin, confess.

_Haz._ I own I much admire the _English_ Beauties but never yet have put

their Fetters on.

_Sure._ Never in love! oh, then you have pleasure to come.

_Haz._ Rather a Pain when there’s no Hope attends it.

_Sure._ Oh, such Diseases quickly cure themselves.

_Haz._ I do not wish to find it so; for even in Pain I find a Pleasure

too.

_Sure._ You are infected then, and come abroad for Cure.

_Haz._ Rather to receive my Wounds, Madam.

_Sure._ Already, Sir,--whoe’er she be, she made good haste to conquer,

we have few here boast that Dexterity.

_Haz._ What think you of _Chrisante_, Madam?

_Sure._ I must confess your Love and your Despair are there plac’d

right, of which I am not fond of being made a Confident, since I am

assur’d she can love none but _Friendly_.

[Coldly.

_Haz._ Let her love on as long as Life shall last, let _Friendly_ take

her, and the Universe, so I had my next wish--

[Sighs.

Madam, it is yourself that I adore--I should not be so vain to tell

you this, but that I know you have found the Secret out already from my

Sighs.

_Sure._ Forbear, Sir, and know me for your Kinsman’s Wife, and no more.

_Haz._ Be scornful as you please, rail at my Passion, and refuse to hear

it; yet I’ll love on, and hope in spite of you; my Flame shall be so

constant and submissive, it shall compel your Heart to some return.

_Sure._ You’re very confident of your Power, I perceive; but if you

chance to find yourself mistaken, say your Opinion and your Affectation

were misapply’d, and not that I was cruel.

[Ex. _Surelove_.

_Haz._ Whate’er denials dwell upon your Tongue, your Eyes assure me that

your Heart is tender.

[Goes out.

Enter the Bagpiper, playing before a great Bowl of Punch, carry’d

between two Negroes, a Highlander dancing after it; the Widow

_Ranter_ led by _Timorous_; _Chrisante_ by _Dullman_; Mrs. _Flirt_

and _Friendly_, all dancing after it; they place it on the Table.

_Dull._ This is like the noble Widow all over, i’faith.

_Tim._ Ay, ay, the Widow’s Health in a full Ladle, Major.

[Drinks.

--But a Pox on’t, what made that young Fellow here, that affronted us

yesterday, Major?

[While they drink about.

_Dull._ Some damned Sharper that would lay his Knife aboard your Widow,

Cornet.

_Tim._ Zoors, if I thought so, I’d arrest him for Salt and Battery, lay

him in Prison for a swinging Fine, and take no Bail.

_Dull._ Nay, had it not been before my Mistress here, Mrs. _Chrisante_,

I had swinged him for his Yesterday’s Affront;--ah, my sweet Mistress

_Chrisante_--if you did but know what a power you have over me--

_Chris._ Oh, you’re a great Courtier, Major.

_Dull._ Would I were any thing for your sake, Madam.

_Ran._ Thou art anything, but what thou shouldst be; prithee, Major,

leave off being an old Buffoon, that is, a Lover turn’d ridiculous by

Age, consider thy self a mere rouling Tun of _Nantz_,--a walking

Chimney, ever smoaking with nasty Mundungus, and then thou hast a

Countenance like an old worm-eaten Cheese.

_Dull._ Well, Widow, you will joke, ha, ha, ha--

_Tim._ Gad’ Zoors, she’s pure company, ha, ha--

_Dull._ No matter for my Countenance,--Col. _Downright_ likes my Estate,

and is resolved to have it a match.

_Friend._ Dear Widow, take off your damned Major, for if he speak

another word to _Chrisante_, I shall be put past all my patience, and

fall foul upon him.

_Ran._ S’life, not for the world--Major, I bar Love-making within my

Territories, ‘tis inconsistent with the Punch-Bowl, if you’l drink, do,

if not, be gone.

_Tim._ Nay, Gad’s Zooks, if you enter me at the Punch-Bowl you enter me

in Politicks--well, ‘tis the best Drink in Christendom for a Statesman.

[They drink about, the Bagpipe playing.

_Ran._ Come, now you shall see what my High-land Valet can do.

[A _Scots_ Dance.

_Dull._ So--I see, let the World go which way it will, Widow, you are

resolv’d for mirth,--but come--to the conversation of the Times.

_Ran._ The Times! why, what a Devil ails the Times? I see nothing in the

Times but a Company of Coxcombs that fear without a Cause.

_Tim._ But if these Fears were laid, and _Bacon_ were hanged, I look

upon _Virginia_ to be the happiest part of the World, gads zoors,--why,

there’s _England_--’tis nothing to’t,--I was in _England_ about six

Years ago, and was shewed the Court of Aldermen, some were nodding, some

saying nothing, and others very little to purpose; but how could it be

otherwise, for they had neither Bowl of Punch, Bottles of Wine or

Tobacco before ‘em, to put Life and Soul into ‘em as we have here: then

for the young Gentlemen--their farthest Travels is to _France_ or

_Italy_, they never come hither.

_Dull._ The more’s the pity, by my troth. [Drinks.

_Tim._ Where they learn to swear Mor-blew, Mor-dee--

_Friend._ And tell you how much bigger the _Louvre_ is than _Whitehall_;

buy a suit a-la-mode, get a swinging Clap of some _French_ Marquise,

spend all their Money, and return just as they went.

_Dull._ For the old Fellows, their business is Usury, Extortion, and

undermining young Heirs.

_Tim._ Then for young Merchants, their Exchange is the Tavern, their

Ware-house the Play-house, and their Bills of Exchange Billet-Douxs,

where to sup with their Wenches at the other end of the Town,--now judge

you what a condition poor _England_ is in: for my part I look upon it as

a lost Nation, gads zoors.

_Dull._ I have considered it, and have found a way to save all yet.

_Tim._ As how, I pray?

_Dull._ As thus: we have Men here of great Experience and Ability--now I

would have as many sent into _England_, as would supply all Places and

Offices, both Civil and Military, d’ye see; their young Gentry should

all travel hither for breeding, and to learn the mysteries of State.

_Friend._ As for the old covetous Fellows, I would have the Tradesmen

get in their Debts, break and turn Troopers.

_Tim._ And they’d be soon weary of Extortion, gad zoors.

_Dull._ Then for the young Merchants, there should be a Law made, none

should go beyond _Ludgate_.

_Friend._ You have found out the only way to preserve that great

Kingdom.

[Drinking all this while sometimes.

_Tim._ Well, gad zoors, ‘tis a fine thing to be a good Statesman.

_Friend._ Ay, Cornet, which you had never been had you staid in Old

_England_.

_Dull._ Why, Sir, we were somebody in _England_.

_Friend._ So I heard, Major.

_Dull._ You heard, Sir! what have you heard? he’s a Kidnapper that says

he heard any thing of me--and so my service to you.--I’ll sue you, Sir,

for spoiling my Marriage here by your Scandals with Mrs. _Chrisante_:

but that shan’t do, Sir, I’ll marry her for all that, and he’s a Rascal

that denies it.

_Friend._ S’death, you lye, Sir--I do.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, Sir, lye to a Privy-Counsellor, a Major of Horse!

Brother, this is an Affront to our Dignities: draw and I’ll side with

you.

[They both draw on _Friendly_, the Ladies run off.

_Friend._ If I disdain to draw, ‘tis not that I fear your base and

cowardly Force, but for the respect I bear you as Magistrates, and so I

leave you.

[Goes out.

_Tim._ An arrant Coward, gad zoors.

_Dull._ A mere Paultroon, and I scorn to drink in his Company.

[Exeunt, putting up their Swords.

SCENE III. A _Sevana_, or large Heath.

Enter _Whimsey_, _Whiff_, and _Boozer_, with some Soldiers arm’d.

_Whim._ Stand--stand--and hear the word of Command--do ye see yon Cops,

and that Ditch that runs along Major _Dullman’s_ Plantation?

_Booz._ We do.

_Whim._ Place your Men there, and lie flat on your Bellies, and when

_Bacon_ comes, (if alone) seize him, d’ye see.

_Whiff._ Observe the Command now (if alone) for we are not for

blood-shed.

_Booz._ I’ll warrant you for our parts.

[Exeunt all but _Whim._ and _Whiff_.

_Whim._ Now we have ambusht our Men, let’s light our Pipes, and sit down

and take an encouraging dram of the Bottle.

[Pulls a Bottle of Brandy out of his Pocket--they sit.

_Whiff._ Thou art a Knave, and hast emptied half the Bottle in thy

Leathern Pockets; but come, here’s young _Frightall’s_ Health.

_Whim._ What, wilt drink a Man’s Health thou’rt going to hang?

_Whiff._ ‘Tis all one for that, we’ll drink his Health first, and hang

him afterwards, and thou shalt pledge me, d’ye see, and though ‘twere

under the Gallows.

_Whim._ Thou’rt a Traitor for saying so, and I defy thee.

_Whiff._ Nay, since we are come out like loving Brothers to hang the

General, let’s not fall out among our selves; and so here’s to you,

[Drinks.] though I have no great Maw to this Business.

_Whim._ Prithee, Brother _Whiff_, do not be so villainous a Coward, for

I hate a Coward.

_Whiff._ Nay, ‘tis not that--but, my _Whiff_, my _Nancy_ dreamt to night

she saw me hanged.

_Whim._ ‘Twas a cowardly Dream, think no more on’t; but as Dreams are

expounded by contraries, thou shalt hang the General.

_Whiff._ Ay--but he was my Friend, and I owe him at this time a hundred

Pounds of Tobacco.

_Whim._ Nay, then I am sure thou’dst hang him if he were thy Brother.

_Whiff._ But hark--I think I hear the Neighing of Horses, where shall we

hide our selves? for if we stay here, we shall be mawled damnably.

[Exeunt both behind a Bush, peeping.

Enter _Bacon_, _Fearless_, and 3 or 4 Footmen.

_Bac._ Let the Groom lead the Horses o’er the _Sevana_; we’ll walk it on

Foot, ‘tis not a quarter of a Mile to the Town; and here the Air is

cool.

_Fear._ The Breezes about this time of the Day begin to take wing, and

fan refreshment to the Trees and Flowers.

_Bac._ And at these Hours how fragrant are the Groves!

_Fear._ The Country’s well, were but the people so.

_Bac._ But come, lets on-- [They pass to the Entrance.

_Whim._ There, Boys-- [The Soldiers come forth and fall on _Bacon_.

_Bac._ Hah! Ambush--

[Draws, _Fearless_ and Footmen draw, the Soldiers after a while

fighting, take _Bacon_ and _Fearless_, they having laid 3 or 4

dead.

_Whiff._ So, so, he’s taken; now we may venture out.

_Whim._ But are you sure he’s taken?

_Whiff._ Sure! can’t you believe your Eyes, come forth; I hate a

Coward--Oh, Sir, have we caught your Mightiness.

_Bac._ Are you the Authors of this valiant Act? None but such villainous

Cowards durst have attempted it.

_Whim._ Stop his railing Tongue.

_Whiff._ No, no, let him rail, let him rail now his Hands are ty’d, ha,

ha. Why, good General _Frightall_, what, was no body able d’ye think to

tame the roaring Lyon?

_Bac._ You’ll be hanged for this.

_Whim._ Come, come, away with him to the next Tree.

_Bac._ What mean you, Villains?

_Whiff._ Only to hang your Honour a little, that’s all. We’ll teach you,

Sir, to serve your Country against Law.

As they go off, enter _Daring_ with Soldiers.

_Dar._ Hah--my General betray’d!--this I suspected.

[His Men come in, they fall on, release _Bacon_ and _Fearless_,

and his Man, and get Swords. _Whimsey’s_ Party put _Whim._ and

_Whiff_ before ‘em striking ‘em as they endeavour to run on this

side or that, and forcing ‘em to bear up, they are taken after

some fighting.

_Fear._ Did not the General tell you Rogues, you’d be all hang’d?

_Whiff._ Oh, _Nancy_, _Nancy_, how prophetick are thy Dreams!

_Bac._ Come, lets on--

_Dar._ S’death, what mean you, Sir?

_Bac._ As I designed--to present my self to the Council.

_Dar._ By Heavens, we’ll follow then to save you from their Treachery,

’.was this that has befallen you that I feared, which made me at a

distance follow you.

_Bac._ Follow me still, but still at such a distance as your Aids may be

assisting on all occasions.--_Fearless_, go back and bring your Regiment

down; and _Daring_, let your Sergeant with his Party guard these

Villains to the Council.

[Ex. _Bac._ _Dar._ and _Fearless_.

_Whiff._ A Pox on your Worship’s Plot.

_Whim._ A Pox of your forwardness to come out of the Hedge.

[Ex. Officers, with _Whim._ and _Whiff_.

SCENE IV. _The Council-Table_.

Enter Col. _Wellman_, Col. _Downright_, _Dullman_, _Timorous_, and

about seven or eight more seat themselves.

_Well._ You heard Mr. _Dunce’s_ opinion, Gentlemen, concerning _Bacon’s_

coming upon our Invitation. He believes he will come, but I rather

think, though he be himself undaunted, yet the persuasions of his two

Lieutenant-Generals, _Daring_ and _Fearless_, may prevent him--Colonel,

have you order’d our Men to be in Arms?

Enter a _Soldier_.

_Down._ I have, and they’l attend further order on the _Sevana_.

_Sold._ May it please your Honours, _Bacon_ is on his way, he comes

unattended by any but his Footmen, and Col. _Fearless_.

_Down._ Who is this Fellow?

_Well._ A Spy I sent to watch _Bacon’s_ Motions.

_Sold._ But there is a Company of Soldiers in Ambush on this side of the

_Sevana_ to seize him as he passes by.

_Well._ That’s by no order of the Council.

_Omnes._ No, no, no order.

_Well._ Nay, ‘twere a good design if true.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, wou’d I had thought on’t for my Troop.

_Down._ I am for no unfair dealing in any extremity.

Enter _Brag_ in haste.

_Brag._ An’t please your Honours, the saddest News--an Ambush being laid

for _Bacon_, they rush’d out upon him on the _Sevana_, and after some

fighting took him and _Fearless_--

_Tim._ Is this your sad News--zoors, wou’d I had had a hand in’t.

_Brag._ When on a sudden, _Daring_ and his Party fell in upon us, turn’d

the tide--kill’d our Men, and took Captain _Whimsey_, and Captain

_Whiff_ Pris’ners; the rest run away, but _Bacon_ fought like fury.

_Tim._ A bloody Fellow!

_Down._ _Whimsey_ and _Whiff_? they deserve Death for acting without

order.

_Tim._ I’m of the Colonel’s Opinion, they deserve to hang for’t.

_Dull._ Why, Brother, I thought you had wish’d that the Plot had been

yours but now.

_Tim._ Ay, but the Case is alter’d since that, good Brother.

_Well._ Now he’s exasperated past all hopes of a Reconciliation.

_Dull._ You must make use of the Statesman’s Refuge, wise Dissimulation.

_Brag._ For all this, Sir, he will not believe but that you mean

honourably, and no Persuasions could hinder him from coming, so he has

dismiss’d all his Soldiers, and is entring the Town on foot.

_Well._ What pity ‘tis a brave Man should be guilty of an ill Action.

_Brag._ But the noise of his danger has so won the Hearts of the Mobile,

that they increase his Train as he goes, and follow him in the Town like

a Victor.

_Well._ Go wait his coming. [Exit _Brag_.

He grows too popular and must be humbled.

_Tim._ I was ever of your mind, Colonel.

_Well._ Ay, right or wrong--but what’s your Counsel now?

_Tim._ E’en as it used to be, I leave it to wiser Heads.

Enter _Brag_.

_Brag._ _Bacon_, Sir, is entring.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, wou’d I were safe in bed.

_Dull._ Colonel, keep in your Heat, and treat calmly with him.

_Well._ I rather wish you would all follow me, I’d meet him at the head

of all his noisy Rabble, and seize him from the Rout.

_Down._ What, Men of Authority dispute with Rake-hells! ‘tis below us,

Sir.

_Tim._ To stake our Lives and Fortunes against their nothing.

Enter _Bacon_, after him the Rabble with Staves and Clubs,

bringing in _Whim._ and _Whiff_ bound.

_Well._ What means this Insolence?--What, Mr. _Bacon_, do you come in

Arms?

_Bac._ I’d need, Sir, come in Arms, when Men that should be honourable

can have so poor Designs to take my Life.

_Well._ Thrust out his following Rabble.

_1st Rab._ We’ll not stir till we have the General safe back again.

_Bac._ Let not your Loves be too officious--but retire--

_1st Rab._ At your Command we vanish.-- [The Rabble retire.

_Bac._ I hope you’ll pardon me, if in my own defence I seized on these

two Murderers.

_Down._ You did well, Sir, ‘twas by no order they acted--stand forth and

hear your Sentence--in time of War we need no formal Tryals to hang

Knaves that act without order.

_Whiff._ Oh, Mercy, Mercy, Colonel--’twas Parson _Dunce’s_ Plot.

_Down._ Issue out a Warrant to seize _Dunce_ immediately--you shall be

carry’d to the Fort to pray.

_Whim._ Oh, good your Honour, I never pray’d in all my Life.

_Down._ From thence drawn upon a Sledge to the place of Execution--where

you shall hang till you are dead--and then be cut down and--

_Whim._ Oh, hold--hold--we shall never be able to endure half this.

[Kneeling.

_Well._ I think the Offence needs not so great Punishment; their Crime,

Sir, is but equal to your own, acting without Commission.

_Bac._ ‘Tis very well explained, Sir,--had I been murder’d by Commission

then, the Deed had been approved, and now perhaps I am beholding to the

Rabble for my Life.

_Well._ A fine Pretence to hide a popular Fault, but for this once we

pardon them and you.

_Bac._ Pardon! for what? by Heaven, I scorn your Pardon, I’ve not

offended Honour nor Religion.

_Well._ You have offended both in taking Arms.

_Bac._ Should I stand by and see my Country ruin’d, my King dishonour’d,

and his Subjects murder’d, hear the sad Crys of Widows and of Orphans?

you heard it loud, but gave no pitying care to’t, and till the War and

Massacre was brought to my own door, my Flocks and Herds surprized,

I bore it all with Patience. Is it unlawful to defend my self against a

Thief that breaks into my Doors?

_Well._ And call you this defending of your self?

_Bac._ I call it doing of my self that right, which upon just demand the

Council did refuse me; if my Ambition, as you’re pleased to call it,

made me demand too much, I left my self to you.

_Well._ Perhaps we thought it did.

_Bac._ Sir, you affront my Birth--I am a Gentleman, and yet my Thoughts

were humble--I would have fought under the meanest of your Parasites.

_Tim._ There’s a Bob for us, Brother. [To _Dull._

_Bac._ But still you put me off with Promises--and when compell’d to

stir in my Defence I call’d none to my aid, and those that came, ‘twas

their own Wrongs that urg’d them.

_Down._ ‘Tis fear’d, Sir, under this Pretence, you aim at Government.

_Bac._ I scorn to answer to so base an Accusation; the height of my

Ambition is to be an honest Subject.

_Well._ An honest Rebel, Sir--

_Bac._ You know you wrong me, and ‘tis basely urg’d--but this is

trifling--here are my Commissions.

[Throws down Papers, _Down._ reads.

_Down._ To be General of the Forces against the _Indians_, and blank

Commissions for his Friends.

_Well._ Tear them in pieces--are we to be imposed upon? Do ye come in

hostile manner to compel us?

_Down._ Be not too rough, Sir, let us argue with him.

_Well._ I am resolv’d I will not.

_Tim._ Then we are all dead Men, Gudzoors! he will not give us time to

say our Prayers.

_Well._ We every day expect fresh force from _England_, till then, we of

our selves shall be sufficient to make defence against a sturdy Traitor.

_Bac._ Traitor! S’death, Traitor--I defy ye, but that my Honour’s yet

above my Anger, I’d make you answer me that Traitor dearly.

[Rises.

_Well._ Hah--am I threatned--Guards, secure the Rebel.

[Guards seize him.

_Bac._ Is this your honourable Invitation? Go--triumph in your

short-liv’d Victory, the next turn shall be mine.

[Exeunt Guards with _Bac._

_A Noise of Fighting--Enter _Bacon_, _Wellman’s_ Guards beat back by the

Rabble, _Bacon_ snatches a Sword from one, and keeps back the Rabble,

_Tim._ gets under the Table._

_Down._ What means this Insolence?

_Rab._ We’ll have our General, and knock that Fellow’s Brains out, and

hang up Colonel _Wellman_.

_All._ Ay, ay, hang up _Wellman_.

[The Rabble seize _Well._ and _Dull._ and the rest.

_Dull._ Hold, hold, Gentlemen, I was always for the General.

_Rab._ Let’s barbicu this fat Rogue.

_Bac._ Be gone, and know your distance to the Council.

[The Rabble let ‘em go.

_Well._ I’d rather perish by the meanest Hand, than owe my safety poorly

thus to _Bacon_.

[In Rage.

_Bac._ If you persist still in that mind I’ll leave you, and conquering

make you happy ‘gainst your will.

[Ex. _Bacon_ and Rabble, hollowing a _Bacon_, a _Bacon_.

_Well._ Oh villanous Cowards! who will trust his Honour with Sycophants

so base? Let us to Arms--by Heaven, I will not give my Body rest, till

I’ve chastised the boldness of this Rebel.

[Exeunt _Well._ _Down._ and the rest, all but _Dull._ _Tim._ peeps

from under the Table.

_Tim._ What, is the roistering Hector gone, Brother?

_Dull._ Ay, ay, and the Devil go with him.

[Looking sadly, _Tim._ comes out.

_Tim._ Was there ever such a Bull of _Bashan_! Why, what if he should

come down upon us and kill us all for Traitors.

_Dull._ I rather think the Council will hang us all for

Cowards--ah--oh--a Drum--a Drum--oh.

[He goes out.

_Tim._ This is the Misery of being great.

We’re sacrific’d to every turn of State. [Exit.

ACT III.

SCENE I. The Country Court, a great Table, with Papers, a _Clerk

writing._

Enter a great many People of all sorts, then _Friendly_, after him

_Dullman_.

_Friend._ How now, Major; what, they say _Bacon_ scar’d you all out of

the Council yesterday; What say the People?

_Dull._ Say? they curse us all, and drink young _Frightall’s_ Health,

and swear they’ll fight through Fire and Brimstone for him.

_Friend._ And to morrow will hollow him to the Gallows, if it were his

chance to come there.

_Dull._ ‘Tis very likely: Why, I am forced to be guarded to the Court

now, the Rabble swore they would _De-Wit_ me, but I shall hamper some of

’.m. Wou’d the Governour were here to bear the brunt on’t, for they call

us the evil Counsellors.

Enter _Hazard_, goes to _Friendly_.

Here’s the young Rogue that drew upon us too, we have Rods in Piss for

him, i’faith.

Enter _Timorous_ with _Bailiffs_, whispers to _Dullman_, after

which to the _Bailiffs_.

_Tim._ Gadzoors, that’s he, do your Office.

_Bail._ We arrest you, Sir, in the King’s Name, at the suit of the

honourable Justice _Timorous_.

_Haz._ Justice _Timorous_! who the Devil’s he?

_Tim._ I am the man, Sir, d’ye see, for want of a better; you shall

repent, Guds zoors, your putting of tricks upon Persons of my Rank and

Quality.

[After he has spoke, he runs back as afraid of him.

_Haz._ Your Rank and Quality!

_Tim._ Ay, Sir, my Rank and Quality; first I am one of the honourable

Council, next, a Justice of Peace in _Quorum_, Cornet of a Troop of

Horse, d’ye see, and Church-warden.

_Friend._ From whence proceeds this, Mr. Justice? you said nothing of

this at Madam _Ranter’s_ yesterday; you saw him there, then you were

good Friends.

_Tim._ Ay, however I have carried my Body swimmingly before my Mistress,

d’ye see, I had Rancour in my Heart, Gads zoors.

_Friend._ Why, this Gentleman’s a Stranger, and but lately come ashore.

_Haz._ At my first landing I was in company with this Fellow and two or

three of his cruel Brethren, where I was affronted by them, some Words

pass’d, and I drew--

_Tim._ Ay, ay, Sir, you shall pay for’t,--why--what, Sir, cannot a civil

Magistrate affront a Man, but he must be drawn upon presently?

_Friend._ Well, Sir, the Gentleman shall answer your Suit, and I hope

you’ll take my Bail for him.

_Tim._ ‘Tis enough--I know you to be a civil Person.

_Timorous_ and _Dullman_ take their Places on a long Bench placed

behind the Table, to them _Whimsey_ and _Whiff_, they seat

themselves, then _Boozer_ and two or three more; who seat

themselves: Then enter two, bearing a Bowl of Punch and a great

Ladle or two in it; the rest of the Stage being fill’d with

People.

_Whiff._ Brothers, it hath often been mov’d at the Bench, that a new

Punch-Bowl shou’d be provided, and one of a larger Circumference; when

the Bench sits late about weighty Affairs, oftentimes the Bowl is

emptied before we end.

_Whim._ A good Motion; Clerk, set it down.

_Clerk._ Mr. Justice _Boozer_, the Council has order’d you a Writ of

Ease, and dismiss your Worship from the Bench.

_Booz._ Me from the Bench, for what?

_Whim._ The Complaint is, Brother _Boozer_, for drinking too much Punch

in the time of hearing Tryals.

_Whiff._ And that you can neither write nor read, nor say the Lord’s

Prayer.

_Tim._ That your Warrants are like a Brewer’s Tally, a Notch on a Stick;

if a special Warrant, then a couple. Gods zoors, when his Excellency

comes he will have no such Justices.

_Booz._ Why, Brother, though I can’t read my self, I have had _Dalton’s_

Country-Justice read over to me two or three times, and understand the

Law. This is your Malice, Brother _Whiff_, because my Wife does not come

to your Warehouse to buy her Commodities,--but no matter, to show I have

no Malice in my Heart, I drink your Health.--I care not this, I can turn

Lawyer, and plead at the Board.

[Drinks, all pledge him, and hum.

_Dull._ Mr. Clerk, come to the Tryals on the Dockett.

[_Clerk_ reads.

_Cler._ The first is between his Worship Justice _Whiff_ and one

_Grubb_.

_Dull._ Ay, that _Grubb’s_ a common Disturber, Brother, your Cause is a

good Cause if well manag’d, here’s to’t.

[Drinks.

_Whiff._ I thank you, Brother _Dullman_--read my Petition.

[Drinks.

_Cler._ The Petition of Captain _Thomas Whiff_, sheweth, That whereas

_Gilbert Grubb_ calls his Worship’s Wife _Ann Whiff_ Whore, and said he

would prove it; your Petitioner desires the Worshipful Bench to take it

into Consideration, and your Petitioner shall ever pray, _&c._-- Here’s

two Witnesses have made Affidavit _viva voce_, an’t like your Worships.

_Dull._ Call _Grubb_.

_Cler._ _Gilbert Grubb_, come into the Court.

_Grub._ Here.

_Whim._ Well, what can you say for your self, Mr. _Grubb_.

_Grub._ Why, an’t like your Worship, my Wife invited some Neighbours

Wives to drink a Cagg of Syder; now your Worship’s Wife, Madam _Whiff_,

being there fuddled, would have thrust me out of doors, and bid me go to

my old Whore Madam _Whimsey_, meaning your Worship’s Wife.

[To _Whimsey_.

_Whim._ Hah! My Wife called Whore, she’s a Jade, and I’ll arrest her

Husband here--in an Action of Debts.

_Tim._ Gad zoors, she’s no better than she should be, I’ll warrant her.

_Whiff._ Look ye, Brother _Whimsey_, be patient; you know the humour of

my _Nancy_, when she’s drunk; but when she’s sober, she’s a civil

Person, and shall ask your pardon.

_Whim._ Let this be done, and I am satisfied. And so here’s to you.

[Drinks.

_Dull._ Go on to the Trial.

_Grub._ I being very angry, said indeed, I would prove her a greater

Whore than Madam _Whimsey_.

_Cler._ An’t like your Worships, he confesses the Words in open Court.

_Grub._ Why, an’t like your Worships, she has had two Bastards, I’ll

prove it.

_Whiff._ Sirrah, Sirrah, that was when she was a Maid, not since I

marry’d her; my marrying her made her honest.

_Dull._ Let there be an order of Court to sue him for _Scandalum

magnatum_.

_Tim._ Mr. Clerk, let my Cause come next.

_Cler._ The Defendant’s ready, Sir. [_Hazard_ comes to the Board.

_Tim._ Brothers of the Bench, take notice, that this Hector here coming

into Mrs. _Flirt’s_ Ordinary, where I was with my Brother _Dullman_ and

Lieutenant _Boozer_; we gave him good Counsel to fall to work: Now my

Gentleman here was affronted at this, forsooth, and makes no more to do

but calls us Scoundrels, and drew his Sword on us; and had I not

defended my self by running away, he had murdered me, and assassinated

my two Brothers.

_Whiff._ What Witness have you, Brother?

_Tim._ Here’s Mrs. _Flirt_ and her Maid _Nell_,--besides, we may be

Witness for one another, I hope, our Words may be taken.

_Cler._ Mrs. _Flirt_ and _Nell_ are sworn. [They stand forth.

_Whim._ By the Oaths that you have taken, speak nothing but the truth.

_Flirt._ An’t please your Worships, your Honours came to my House, where

you found this young Gentleman: and your Honours invited him to drink

with your Honours; Where after some opprobrious Words given him, Justice

_Dullman_, and Justice _Boozer_ struck him over the Head; and after that

indeed the Gentleman drew.

_Tim._ Mark that, Brother, he drew.

_Haz._ If I did, it was _se defendendo_.

_Tim._ Do you hear that, Brothers, he did it in defiance.

_Haz._ Sir, you ought not to sit Judge and Accuser too.

_Whiff._ The Gentleman’s i’th’ right, Brother, you cannot do’t according

to Law.

_Tim._ Gads zoors, what new tricks, new querks?

_Haz._ Gentlemen, take notice, he swears in Court.

_Tim._ Gads zoors, what’s that to you, Sir?

_Haz._ This is the second time of his swearing.

_Whim._ What, do you think we are deaf, Sir? Come, come, proceed.

_Tim._ I desire he may be bound to his Good Behaviour, fin’d, and

deliver up his Sword, what say you, Brother?

[Jogs _Dull._ who nods.

_Whim._ He’s asleep, drink to him and waken him,-- you have miss’d the

Cause by sleeping, Brother.

[Drinks.

_Dull._ Justice may nod, but never sleeps, Brother-- you were

at--Deliver his Sword--a good Motion, let it be done.

[Drinks.

_Haz._ No, Gentlemen, I wear a Sword to right my self.

_Tim._ That’s fine, i’faith, Gads zoors, I’ve worn a Sword this dozen

Year, and never cou’d right my self.

_Whiff._ Ay, ‘twou’d be a fine World if Men should wear Swords to right

themselves; he that’s bound to the Peace shall wear no Sword.

_Whim._ I say, he that’s bound to the Peace ought to wear no Peruke,

they may change ‘em for black or white, and then who can know them.

_Haz._ I hope, Gentlemen, I may be allowed to speak for my self.

_Whiff._ Ay, what can you say for your self, did you not draw your

Sword, Sirrah?

_Haz._ I did.

_Tim._ ‘Tis sufficient, he confesses the Fact, and we’ll hear no more.

_Haz._ You will not hear the Provocation given.

_Dull._ ‘Tis enough, Sir, you drew--

_Whim._ Ay, ay, ‘tis enough, he drew--let him be fin’d.

_Friend._ The Gentleman should be heard, he’s Kinsman too to Colonel

_John Surelove_.

_Tim._ Hum--Colonel _Surelove’s_ Kinsman.

_Whiff._ Is he so? nay, then all the reason in the World he should be

heard, Brothers.