Enter SYLVIA.

Luc. Hush then: now my cause is coming on, and have at her.

Sylv. Sweet-heart, pray oblige me so far to shew me the way to the gardens; I come to pay a visit to madam Porcia, and am informed she's gone there for the air. A very handsome youth[Aside. Chlo. Madam, this young gentleman here is come hither on the same kind errand with your ladyship, and waits till her return.

Luc. But, madam, the good fortune of seeing you, is a happiness would recompense the being disappointed of all the conversation of your sex besides. Sylv. Indeed, sir!

Luc. Yes, indeed, madam.

Sylv. Are you a relation to this family, sir?

Luc. Madam, the greatest advantage I hope from the family is, henceforth to have oftener the honour of kissing your fair hands here: it is an opportunity I should make no ungentlemanly use of.

Sylv. Opportunity, sir!

Luc. Yes, opportunity, madam: I am not ashamed to mention so honest a friend as opportunity, to one that, by her years and beauty, should not, methinks, be a mortal foe to opportunity.

Sylv. Do you know me, sir?

Luc. Why, madam; do I treat you like a stranger? Know you! By this good hour, there has not been a day or night since I first saw you, that I have thought or dreamt of any thing else. Are not you the wife of a certain swaggering 'squire about this town, who calls himself captain Courtine?

Sylv. Yes, sir; such a friend in a corner I have, sir; and what have you to say to him, sir?-I'll swear, a very handsome youth still[Aside.

Luc. What, madam! what I have to say to you, rather than lose you, I would say to him; which is, that I like you, love you, languish for you; and would with all my heart, blood, spirit, and flesh, I

Sylv. I'll swear, sir, I am mightily obliged to you, and so is Mr. Courtine. Ha, ha, ba!

Luc. Mr. Courtine! Take notice, madam, I receive that expression as kindly as if you had called him what I wish him: for, pretty one, if my intelligence be true, he lives with your ladyship as much like Mr. Courtine, as much like a gentleman

Sylv. Sir!

Luc. Madam!

handsome.

Sylv. Oh Gaud! he's very [Aside. Luc. Shall we walk in these gardens anon, for I have the privilege of a key that opens into the fields? The moon shines too.

Sylv. Between ten and eleven does the moon shine? Luc. As bright as any thing but yourself.

Sylv. But you'll tell, young gentleman.

Luc. Only you how I love you.

Sylv. Eleven's a late hour.

Luc. Not too late.

Sylv. Indeed!

Luc. Take this, and my word for it.

[Kisses her.

Sylv. Fy, how you use me, when you mean to forget me!

Luc. Hush, no more; company's coming. Eleven? Sylv. Ten, if you are kind enough.

Luc. Well said, my chaste sex.

Enter PORCIA.

[Aside.

Por. Oh, cousin, art thou come? Thou art the welcomest creature on the earth; I have expected thee almost to despair for these three hours. Oh, sir, your

servant.

Luc. I am here, madam, in order to your commands. Sylv. Her commands!

Por. Oh, cousin, the prettiest best-natured youth! He is something related to us a great way off; and by that means has the privilege of visiting, without offence to my jealous brother-in-law, and tyrannical guardian, Have you contrived that business?

Luc. Madam, it is done.

Sylv. Business! What business, cousin?

Por. Lord, cousin, you seem concerned at it. I'll tell thee: seeing myself here confined to the rules and limits of a very prison, I have resolved to put as good a face upon the matter as it will bear, and make my misfortune as easy as I can. Wherefore, for a little present diversion, I have contrived a letter in an unknown name, by this young agent here, and conveyed it to thy lewd husband, with another in my own to Beaugard; and sent for thee, my dear, to share in the pleasure of the consequence.

Sylv. Ha, ha, ha! But what will be this consequence, cousin?

Por. Twenty to one but it occasions some new alarm, and divertisement to my jailors; who are so very capricious, they would fancy a rat behind the hangings for a concealed lover. It may too, by chance, produce me some lucky opportunity once more to make my escape out of their merciless power. Nay, they are already half disposed to run away themselves; for by my woman's interest in the chirurgeon, who has care of the swearing atheistical fellow, yesterday hurt in the scuffle, and afterwards conveyed hither, he gives it out that he fears his wounds may be mortal. Upon which, my lover Gratian sighs, and turns up his eyes like a godly brother at exercise. My brother Theodoret puffs, swells, grinds his teeth, and stamps as if he would brain himself against the next wall; while poor Beaugard's ne'er-be-good Father has, with pure fear, lost a red nose that has been his fast friend for these forty years; and every time he sees his face in a glass, fancies every wrinkle there has the shape of a gibbet.

Enter PHILLIS.

Phil. Oh, my dear, dear lady, what will become of us! the most unhappy accident!

Por. Hah!

Phil. Indeed, madam, I could not possibly help it: I ha' lost it.

Por. Lost it, lost what? What hast thou lost? Would thou hadst lost thyself; lost a leg or an arm, or any thing, rather than have put me in this fright. Speak, what is the matter?

Phil. Oh, madamı, the billet; mnadam, the billet. Luc. & Sylv. How's this?

Por. What, the note I sent to Beaugard?

Phil. As I hope to see you happy, madam, I put it as fast here between these two poor naked breasts here, as ever it could stick, so I did; when, just as I was going forth, who should meet me but the old, wicked, ranting, roaring gentleman, that lies hid here for fear of hanging; would he had been well hanged a twelvemonth since; and there he fell a towzing and a mowzing, and a meddling with me; I was never so afraid of being ravished in my life, gad he knows: so, in the struggle, I guess the note was lost, truly; though, in my heart, I wish I had been ravished six times over, rather than such a misfortune had happened. Nevertheless, I ha' done your business for you, so I have.

Por. Business! what business? Ugliness and ill reputation light on thee! Thou hast undone and ruined ine for ever.

Phil. Why, I have met with the captain, and told him the whole matter, as well as if he had read it in the letter himself. He's but too kind a man to you, and I too faithful a servant, so I am, to be thus reviled and cursed by you for all this.

Por. What then did he say? fool, beast, and block. head! tell me.

Phil. Why, he said, he'd die a thousand and a thou sand times for you, were it possible, so he did; and that he will not eat, drink, or sleep, till he has set you at liberty, so he wo' not; and that he will be in the garden before ten.

Luc. What's in this case to be done, madam?

Por. O dearest cousin, retire if you love me; for, should the lords of my liberty get any notice of this billet, and find a man here, notwithstanding your relation, who knows what ill usage it may aggravate!—To thy chamber, dear Lucrece, ere the storm comes upon [Aside.

us.

Luc. I am all obedience. Sweet creature, you'll remember! [To Sylvia. Sylv. It is not possible to forget you, surely. Luc. Blessings on you for this goodness.

[Kisses her Hand, and Exit.

Enter THEODORET in a rage.

Theod. Double bar up all the doors and windows: load all the arms in the house, and be ready for execution instantly, all of ye. By those devils that dance in your goggling eyes, madam, I'll try if you have given yourself over to hell so far, that you can out at a keyhole.

Por. What means the great he-brute?

Theod. To cut off your intelligence, lady, and make thee, ere I have done, to curse thy father and mother that let thee learn to write. Seest thou this, thou irreclaimable profligate wretch? Fogh! send you the draggle-tailed minister of thy lewd affairs a-hunting, full cry about the town, upon the rank scent of a brawny-backed hector? By heavens! the thought of it makes me loath the house, and fancy it stinks of the foul sins thou hast imagined in it,

Por. Thou barbarous, ill-mannered, worse than beast! Why am I abused thus? why made a prisoner too, at your saucy will? fettered up, and barred all liberty and

converse?

Theod. For the same reason other too hot-blooded females are; because, if possible, I would not have a good breed spoiled.

Por. What a load of dirt is thy thick scull crammed withal, if the tongue were able to throw it out!