_Pett._ That's well said, and I'll accompany you, and wish you Joy.

_Comp._ Joy, Sir, I have it Sir already, in a good Estate got by a Chopping Boy.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ Friendly solus.

_Fri._ Was ever Fortune like to this of mine? Who for the Smile of a vile simple Woman, have acted thus against my very Soul, all to please a Creature, whose next Command perhaps will higher mount, it may be light on my self, as now it did on _Bonvile_.

_Enter_ Clara.

_Cla._ Ha! _Friendly_ here alone. Now, now, my Fears begin.

[_Aside_.

So, Sir, you are return'd I see.

[_To him._

_Fri._ Madam, I am, and like those n.o.ble Knights in former times, after subduing all their Ladies Foes, returning with the joyful News of Conquest, receive her trembling to their longing Arms, and claim her as their own, so I----.

_Cla._ What mean you, Sir?

_Fri._ Madam, You are obeyed, your hard Commands fulfilled; at your Request I've kill'd my Friend, nay and my best of Friends.

_Cla._ How? kill'd your Friend for me.

_Fri._ Indeed 'tis true.

_Cla._ Then thou art truly wretched: But say, say quickly, who's this unhappy Man whom thy Mistake hath thus untimely kill'd?

_Fri._ _Bonvile._

_Cla._ _Bonvile_ said you? My Blood with an unusual Course runs backward from my Heart! Horror has seiz'd my Soul! A thick-black Mist has overcast my Sight, and I am not the same: but speak, O speak again, Was it _Bonvile_?

_Fri._ Why shou'd you seek to iterate my Guilt, by a Rehearsal of that dreadful Name? Too sure, alas! It was: _Bonvile_'s the Friend I've kill'd.

_Cla._ Curs'd be the Tongue that spoke it, but doubly curs'd the Hand that did the barbarous Fact.

_Fri._ Why Madam, was it not your Command to kill my Friend; nay more, my best of Friends?

_Cla._ Yes, and I thought my self your best of Friends.

_Fri._ I hope you wou'd not have had me murder'd you?

_Cla._ No, Monster, no.

_Fri._ These are Riddles.

_Cla._ Fool, our whole s.e.x is made of nothing else: Thou mayst sooner untie the Gordian Knot, expound the Problems of the monstrous _Sphynx_, and read what is decreed in the mysterious Book of Fate, than unfold a Woman's sly malitious Meaning.

_Fri._ Very well; she first set me on to do this most accurs'd of Deeds, and now upbraids me; nay wou'd hang me for 't: These are the Tricks of all her d.a.m.ning s.e.x. O Woman, Woman, Woman, dear devilish Woman, farewel.

[_Offers to go._

_Cla._ Stay _Friendly_, all I have said was only to try your Constancy; and whether you'd repent of what you've done. But tell me truly, is _Bonvile_ surely dead?

_Fri._ Indeed he is.

_Cla._ 'Tis bravely done, and I adore thee for 't. By Heaven I love thee now, even unto Dotage!

_Fri._ Was ever Change like this? The subtlest Labyrinth Wit cou'd ere invent, affords not half so many Turnings as a Woman's Mind.

[_Aside._

What mean you, Madam, by this seeming Transport?

_Cla._ O _Friendly_, _Friendly_, I am all o're Extasy! Thou hast done a Deed that ravishes my Soul. At once thou hast kill'd my dear and only Friend, and slain the fatal'st Enemy I had.

_Fri._ What more Riddles Madam, pray explain your self.

_Cla._ I will; I will declare a Secret which till now I never did disclose: I lov'd that _Bonvile_ whom thou now hast slain, not as I ought to do, but with a Woman's Love, which he never did know: And Yesterday when I beheld the fatal Marriage ended, then like a Merchant walking on the _Downes_, sees a rich Vessel of his own engaged, and after took, and born away a Prize: So I, after I'd seen my _Bonvile_ lost, (for so he was to me) resuming all the Malice of a Woman, resolved never to entertain one Thought of Love again; but lead a Life as _Lapland_ Witches do, only on others Ruines: Then when you approached me with the hateful Sound of Love, to dash your Hopes, and put a Period to your growing Pa.s.sion, I bid you kill your best and dearest Friend?

_Fri._ True.

_Cla._ Now the best Friend to one in Love, is Love it self.

_Fri._ O my curs'd Stars, that wrap'd me up in such a black Mistake, What have I done?

_Cla._ Done! Why you have done bravely, why do you tremble?

_Fri._ An inward Guilt lies heavy on my Soul, and Horror with all her dreadful Forms still haunts my Sight. And did you love this _Bonvile_?

_Cla._ The Queen of Beauty never doted more on her beloved _Adonis_ than I on him.

_Fri._ And now as much you hate him: O the unheard-of Inconstancy of Women! All that they have is feign'd; their Teeth, their Hair, their Blushes, and their Smiles; nay their very Conscience (if any such they have) is feign'd; all counterfeit and false: Let them wash, patch and daub themselves with all the Helps for Nature that Art cou'd e're invent, still they are Women: And let 'em rob all _India_ of its store to adorn themselves therewith, still are they not all that thing call'd Woman: I know not what to do, for I love and hate this Creature both at once.

_Cla._ What ails my _Friendly_?

_Fri._ But _Bonvile_ yet must feel his Enemies Rage; shall he succeed in Love, whilst I am cross'd in mine? No, it must not, cannot, nay it shall not be.

_Four Heads I have, to make a Plot not common; Malice, Revenge, the Devil, and a Woman._

[_Offers to go._

_Cla._ What will you leave me then?