_Cla._ Come then:

_And since your Ruine I did first conspire, I'll all appease, thus Fire's expell'd by Fire._

[_Exeunt._

_Enter Justice_ Merryman _and_ Summerfield.

_Mer._ Sir, do you take me for your Friend?

_Sum._ Why d' you ask me such a Question, Sir? 'twere base Ingrat.i.tude to entertain any other Thought.

_Mer._ Why then d' ye see, Sir; as you are my Friend, you must not fight my Son _Bonvile_.

_Sum._ Not fight him Sir! you amaze me.

_Mer._ Aye, aye, aye; that's all one: I understand your dumb Signs and your low Whispers, the French Mode all over, to smile and grin a Man in the Face, and at the same time privately cut his Throat. Therefore prithe be ruled by me, and don't fight him, for shou'd you kill him, my poor Girl wou'd break her Heart, quite break her Heart. [_Sobs and cries._] I grant that you are wrong'd, and so I dare swear is my dear Child: but he's her Husband, and must be born with, ods bobs he must.

_Sum._ Heaven be my Witness, I ne're entertain'd a Thought like it!

_Mer._ That's well, that's well, I am heartily glad on't, ods bobs I am heartily glad.

[Enter _Friendly_.

But here comes one that has made all this Mischief; and him I'll fight my self for all I'm a Justice of the Peace. Come, come, Sir, Draw, draw; you'll belie my Daughter again wil you? Come, draw, I say, Draw.

[_Draws._

_Fri._ Sir, as I am a Gentleman, I scorn to deny my Words, but there's my Author, whether good or ill.

_Mer._ Who, he? He, do ye mean him?

_Fri._ Yes, Sir.

_Sum._ True, Sir, I am; For, at his Return to Town from _Barn-Elms_, it was my Chance to meet him; and after a ceremonious Complement or two, I found him diving into my private Thoughts concerning the Bride your Daughter: I, not to be behind-hand with him, join'd Wit with Wit to sound his shallow Soul. I told him then, how her Jewels once were mine; but the manner of my obtaining them, I for my own sake did conceal from him; and now, if you're disposed, I'll here relate it.

_Enter_ Bonvile _leading_ Arabella, Clara _and_ Spruce, _Mr._ Venter _and Mrs._ Venter.

_Mer._ Let it be before all this Company then: What, and my Son and Daughter too so loving again? Nay then all's well, ods bobs it is, and they shall hear it, ods bobs they shall.

_Bon._ I have heard the Story, Sir, already; and _Friendly_, you I pardon too, for Enemies in War take all Occasions to undo each other; yet tho I am your Enemy, I'll be generous still, and make you Master of your wish'd for Mistress.

[_To_ Clara.]

Come, Madam, receive this worthier Pa.s.sion of your _Friendly_, whom I know you both admire and love.

[_Gives her to_ Friendly.

Next I must obtain your Pardon for my Rashness.

_Sum._ Sir, 'tis what I first ought to have begg'd of you: And that the World may'nt tax this innocent Lady of a Crime to her purest Thoughts unknown, I'll here begin my Story from my first Acquaintance to this happy Hour.

_Mer._ Prithy do.

_Sum._ The first time that I e're beheld her Face, I wou'd have robb'd her.

_Mer._ Ah Rogue! What, a Thief, a Thief, what wou'd you have robb'd her of?

_Sum._ Not her Honour, I a.s.sure you, Sir, but only of those Jewels which she wears.

_Mer._ Ods bobs, thou wert an honest Thief, for that I faith he was.

_Sum._ They being fast, I cou'd not get 'em off without some Harm and Pain to her: which for the _Indies_ I'd not have done. And she, in answer to my Civility, brought me home, and ransom'd them with the full Price in Gold, (with which I made my Venture) and the more to hide my Shame, she honour'd me with the t.i.tle of her Kinsman.

_Mer._ Ay, ay, and so she might well; for she was a little cunning Thief too, to steal the Gold she gave you from her Husband; 'twas all his now, but that's no matter, proceed.

_Sum._ The rest you know already, Sir.

_Mer._ Ay, so I do, ods bobs I do, thy Valour my brave Boy, thy Valour, for which I'll do for thee, that thou shalt never need to rob again I warrant thee; ods bobs I will. But come, come, we lose time, for we have another Wedding yet to be perform'd, but that shall be done within.

Sum. _Then farewel all ye treacherous Paths of Vice, Which lead Men blindfold to their End, In time like me repent you that are wise, And by Restraint your vicious Courses end._

Ara. _Were I to ask of Heaven its greatest Bliss On Earth, it cou'd bestow not one like this.

After a Storm the Sun still shines most bright, And from the Chaos sprung the purer Light._

Bon. _A Day like this sure yet has never been, Wherein such various Changes e're were seen.

Fortune to Day that work'd my Overthrow, Has made me happy in a Minute now.

Bless'd with a vertuous Wife my Days I'll spend, And ne're trust Man, lest I mistake my Friend._

EPILOGUE,

Spoke by the City-Bride.

_You met with good Intention to be witty, And rally the Grave Cuckolds of the City; But disappointed of your Recreation, I in your Looks can read the Play's d.a.m.nation.

Lord! how ye stare to find an honest Bride, A thing you think a Monster in_ Cheapside.

_Whither you boast that you so often come, And leave your footmen to perform at home.

Yet 'tis no little Comfort t' us howe're, You oftner bring th' Estate than get the Heir.

Unjustly therefore you your Fortune blame, She's kinder to your Blood that to your Name._

_After all this, I know you think it Pity, That I shou'd break the Custom of the City: I hear a Beau cry, 'tis some d.a.m.n'd Mistaker; A_ Cheap-side _Vertue, City Cuckold maker.

This is a Fault no Gentleman can pardon, It gives_ Cheapside _the Sins of_ Covent-Garden: _We must refine on Vice, and take new Measures, Since dull chain'd Cits invade our darling Pleasures._

_Take my Advice, employ at home your Backs, Or_ Locket's _Revels may revenge_ Pontack's: _This Cuckolding to you's a losing Trade, That pay for making, and for being made.

The Ladies will my Character excuse, And not condemn a Vertue which they use._

_If any here be guilty of Transgression, 'Tis of Necessity, not Inclination: They'd be contented in their proper Houses, Cou'd they reform their unperforming Spouses.