'en as surlily. What thof he be my father, I an't bound prentice to 'en: so, faith I told'n in plain terms, if I were minded to marry, I'd marry to please myself, not him; and for the young woman that he provided for me, I thought it more fitting for her to learn her sampler, and make dirt-pies than to look after a husband; for my part, I was none of her man -I had another voyage to make, let him take it as he will.

Mrs. F. So then, you intend to go to sea again?

Ben. Nay, nay, my mind ran upon you-but I would not tell him so much.-So he said, he'd make my heart ache; and if so be that he could get a woman to his mind, he'd marry himself. Gad, says I, an you play the fool and marry at these years, there's more danger of your head's aching than my heart!He was woundy angry when I giv'n that wipe-he had'nt a word to say; and so I left'n, and the green girl together; mayhap the bee may bite, and he'll marry her himself-with all my heart!

Mrs. F. And were you this undutiful and graceless wretch to your father?

Ben. Then why was he graceless first?-If I am undutiful and graceless, why did he beget me so? I did not beget myself.

Mrs. F. O impiety! how have I been mistaken! What an inhuman merciless creature have I set my heart upon! O, I am happy to have discovered the shelves and quicksands that lurk beneath that faithless smiling face?

Ben. Hey-toss! what's the matter now? why you

ben't angry, be you?

Mrs. F. O see me no more-for thou wert born among rocks, suckled by whales, cradled in a tempest, and whistled to by winds; and thou art come forth with fins and scales, and three rows of teeth, a most outrageous fish of prey.

Ben. O Lord, O Lord, she's mad, poor young woman! Love has turned her senses; her brain is quite overset.—Well-a-day! how shall I do to set her to

rights?

Mrs. F. No, no, I am not mad, monster; I am wise enough to find you out.-Hadst thou the impudence to aspire at being a husband, with that stubborn and disobedient temper ?-You, that know not how to submit to a father, presume to have a sufficient stock of duty to undergo a wife? I should have been finely fobbed indeed, very finely fobbed!

Ben. Harkee, forsooth; if so be that you are in your right senses, d'ye see, for aught as I perceive I'm like to be finely fobbed-if I have got anger here upon your account, and you are tacked about already! What dy'e mean, after all your fair speeches, and stroaking my cheeks, and kissing and hugging, what would you sheer off so? would you, and leave me aground.

Mrs. F. No, I'll leave you adrift, and go which wav you will.

Ben. What, are you false-hearted then?
Mrs. F. Only the wind's changed.

Ben. More shame for you!The wind's changed? It is an ill wind blows nobody good.-Mayhap I have a good riddance on you, if these be your tricks. -What did you mean all this while to make a fool of me?

Mrs. F. Any fool, but a husband.

Ben. Husband! Gad, I would not be your husband, if you would have me, now I know your mind; thof you had your weight in gold and jewels, and thof I loved you never so well.

Mrs. F. Why canst thou love, Porpus ?

Ben. No matter what I can do; don't call names. -I don't love you so well as to bear that, whatever I did. I'm glad you shew yourself, mistress :-let them marry you as don't know you.-Gad, I know you too well, by sad experience; I believe he that marries you will go to sea in a hen-pecked frigate. —I believe that, young woman! and mayhap may come to an anchor at Cuckold's Point; so there's a dash for you, take it as you will; mayhap you may hollow after me when I won't come to. [Exit.

Mrs. F. Ha, ha, ha! no doubt on't. [Sings.] "My true love is gone to sea!" [Enter Mrs. Foresight.] O sister, had you come a minute sooner, you would have seen the resolution of a lover.-Honest Tar and I are parted ;-and with the same indifference that we met." On my life, I am half vexed at the "insensibility of a brute I despised.”

Mrs. For. What then, he bore it most heroically? Mrs. F. Most tyrannically-" for you see he has

got the start of me and I the poor forsaken maid am left complaining on the shore." But I'll tell you a hint that he has given me. Sir Sampson is enraged, and talks desperately of committing matrimony himself. If he has a mind to throw himself away, he can't do it more effectually than upon me, if we could bring it about.

Mrs. For. O hang him, old fox! he's two cunning; besides, he hates both you and me. But I have a project in my head for you, and I have gone a good way towards it. I have almost made a bargain with Jeremy, Valentine's man, to sell his master to us.

Mrs. F. Sell him? how?

Mrs. For. Valentine raves upon Angelica, and took me for her; and Jeremy says will take any body for her that he imposes on him. Now I have promised him mountains, if in one of his mad fits he will bring you to him in her stead, and get you married together, and put to bed together-and after consummation, girl, there's no revoking. And if he should recover his senses, he'll be glad at least to make you a good settlement.-Here they come; stand aside a little, and tell me how you like the design.

Enter VALENTINE, SCANDAL, FORESIGHT, and

JEREMY.

Scand. And have you given your master a hint of their plot upon him.

[To Jeremy.

Jer. Yes, sir; he says he'll favour it, and mistake her for Angelica.

K

Scand. It may make us sport.

For. Mercy on us!

Val. Husht-interrupt me not-I'll whisper prediction to thee, and thou shalt prophesy.-I am Honesty, and can teach thy tongue a new trick. I have told thee what's past-Now I'll tell what's to come! -Dost thou know what will happen to-morrow ?— Answer me not-for I will tell thee. To-morrow knaves will thrive through craft and fools through fortune; and Honesty will go as it did, frost-nipt in a summer suit. Ask me questions concerning to

morrow.

Scand. Ask him, Mr. Foresight.

For. Pray what will be done at court ?

Val. Scandal will tell you-I am Honesty; I never come there.

For. In the city?

Val. Oh, prayers will be said in empty churches, at the usual hours. Yet you will see such zealous faces behind counters, as if religion were to be sold in every shop. Oh! things will go methodically in the city. The clocks will strike twelve at noon, and the horned herd buz in the Exchange at two. Husbands and wives will drive distinct trades; and care and pleasure separately occupy the family. Coffee-houses will be full of smoke and stratagem. And the cropt 'prentice that sweeps his master's shop in the morning, may ten to one dirty his sheets before night. But there are two things that you will see very strange; which are, wanton wives with their legs at