because they have Crowds of Thoughts, that still perplex the Mind; which wou’d be, like the Soul retired and free, thereby to enjoy that sweet repose, which nought but that can Grant.

Spru. Pshaw! Pox of this Morality and dull Stuff; Prithee let us be Merry, and Entertain the Bride and Bridegroom. Ods fish there a parcel of rare Creatures within! But of all Mrs. Clara for my Money.

Mr. Ven. And truly, I am of your Opinion Mr. Spruce; for setting aside her present Melancholly and Discontent, I think she is beyond Comparison with any other.

Spr. Od’s nigs, I know the Cause of her Disorder.

Ven. What I pray?

Spr. Why, I’ll tell ye; In all Conditions of Estates, Professions, and Degrees, in Arts or Sciences, yee know there’s a kind of Envious Emulation.

Mr. Ven. Right.

Spr. So in this of Arabella’s Marrying; for Clara being Lady of much the same Birth and Quality, Grieves I—suppose to see her Rival get the start of her.

Mr. Ven. Troth like enough.

Fri. Y’are Pleasant Gentlemen—Or else because she having had so many Courtiers——

Spr. And you among the rest Jack.

Fri. She now perhaps does cast a more favourable Eye upon some one that does not like her.

Spr. Why Faith, and that may be too.

Enter Lucy with a Letter.

Lucy. Sir, my Mistriss presents her humble Service to you, and has sent you this Letter; pray Heaven it be to your liking Sir.

Fri. I thank the kind Lucy: There, there’s for the Postage Girle: [Gives her Money.] She has kept her Promise for once I see; I’m resolved to read it, thô I were sure my Death was Comprehended in it.

Reads. Try all your Friends, and find out the best and nearest to your Heart, That done, be sure to kill him for my sake. This fail not to do, if you respect and Love (as you pretend.)
Clara.

’Tis as I fear’d, and what I know she most desires: Mischief, and Murder, are all her Sexes Practice, and Delight? Yet such is the Extravagancy of my Passion, I must obey the Mandate, thô to my certain Ruine: ’Tis strangely difficult, and does require Mature Deliberation.
[Exit.

Spr. What has Friendly left us?

Mr. Ven. I believe the Letter was the occasion, it may be it was a Challenge.

Spr. A Challenge! No, no; Women don’t use to bring Challenges, I rather believe ’tis an Amour; And that Letter as you call it a Billet Deux, which is to Conduct him to the place appointed; and in some Sence you may take that for a Challenge.

Mr. Ven. And she the Civil Embassadress to usher him in.

Spr. Yes, yes, but see the Bride and Bridegroom, with the rest of the good Company.

Enter Justice Merry-man, Bonvile, Arabella, Mrs. Venter and others, as Guests Invited to the Wedding.

Mer. Son Bonvile, what call ye the Gentleman we met at the Garden Door?

Bon. Friendly Sir, a most approv’d and worthy Gentleman, and one of my chiefest Guests.

Mer. Ay, ay, it may be so: But yet me thought he seemed somewhat displeased, thô Son, Hah, What think you?

Bon. No sure Sir, he cannot be Angry, when his Friend’s so happy.

Mer. I can’t tell Boy, but I believe there’s something more than ordinary in the matter. Why should he leave the Company else? And Mrs. Clara I miss her too. Why Gentlemen, why do you suffer this?

Ara. Unknown to any Sir, she withdrew soon as we rise from Table.

Mer. Sick of the Maid perhaps; because she sees you Mrs. Bride her Quondam Play fellow Married before her; Heh Gentlemen, heh!

Mr. Ven. ’Troth like enough Brother Merry-man.

Mer. Go, go, find her out for shame Gentlemen; and do not stand idle thus, Od’s bobs, when I was a Young fellow and invited to a Wedding, I used to frisk and Jump, and so bestir my self, that I made all the Green-sickness Girles in the Room blush like Rubies. Ah, hah! I was a brisk Fellow in those Days, I’faith, and used to Cut Capers a Yard high: Nor am I yet so Old, but I can take a round or two still—Come, come Gentlemen, lets in again and firk it away, shall we not?

Spr. With all my Heart Mr. Justice.

Mer. Why that’s well said Mr. Spruce, Ods bobs it was, and I thank you heartily.

Spr. Come Madam, you must along with us, without you all’s nothing.

Arab. I’ll wait on you Gentlemen; if you will give me leave Sir.
[To Bonvile.

Bon. Oh my best Joy! This Day you may Command.

Mer. That’s right, that’s right I’faith Gentlemen! This Day she Commands, and he for ever after. Ods bobs I have done so my self, and hope I shall do so still. Sister Venter, May I presume to ask if my Brother can say as much?
[Exit Bonvile, Arab. Spruce, and the rest of the Guests.]

Mrs. Vent. Yes Brother, I think he may, I freely Give him leave.

Mer. Observe that Brother, she freely gives you leave: But who Gives leave the Master or the Servant?

Mr. Ven. You are Merry Brother, and truly you have reason, having but one Daughter and see her Married as you would have her.

Mer. Yes, I have one thank Heaven! You wou’d be glad Sister you cou’d say so, but your Barrenness does give your Husband leave (if he please) to look for Game elsewhere.

Mrs. Ven. Well, well Sir, thô you jeer me, and make a scorn of my Sterility—

Mer. No, no, not I Sister, I scorn not your Sterility, nor your Husbands Virility neither.

Mrs. Ven. My Husband’s Virility! Pray spare my Husband; for he has not been so idle as you imagin; He may have an—Offspring abroad for ought you know, that you never heard of.

Mr. Ven. Oh fye Wife, You will not make it publick will you?

Mrs. Ven. And yet he keeps himself within compass for all that.

Mr. Ven. If you love me Winny—

Mrs. Ven. Na, I say no more, but thereby hangs a Tale.

Mer. Say’st thou so old Girle? What and has he been stragling then? Nay; nay I know he is a Ventersome Man; And a—Merchant of small Wares sometimes, especially when he can get a good Commodity: I love him the better for’t I’faith, Ods bobs I do—A notable spark with a Young Wench in a corner, Is he not? A true Chip of the old block, his Father I warrant him—But Sister, I have something to say to you in private, concerning my Daughter.

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. By your leave Good Folks, Is Master Venter the Merchant here I pray?

Mr. Ven. Oh Nurse! I am glad to see thee, How does my Boy?

Nurse. Very well, I thank Heaven Sir! He grows bravely I assure you. ’Tis a Chopping lad I promise you, and as like your good Worship; As if he had been spit out of your Mouth.

Mr. Ven. Softly, Nurse softly.

Nurse. I protest ’tis one of the forward’st Infants in the Universe; Lord! how it will Crow, and Chirup like a Sparrow! I am afraid Sir he is about Teeth, for he Dribbles extreamly, if so, Your Worship must provide him a Silver Corral with a Whistle and Chain.

Mr. Ven. Well, well, he shall have everything