My _Bonvile_ leave his Wife? And on his Wedding Day?

His Bride whom he perhaps may ne're Enjoy?

And all for me? O most unhappy Man!

_Bon._ Pleasure before my Friend I'll ne're prefer, Nor is it lost, tho for a while, delay'd.

_Fri._ Are you then resolv'd to go?

_Bon._ I am as fixt in my Resolve as is the _Libertin_ in vice, Which Death alone can part.

_Fri._ Yet stay, and think what it is you undertake, Recall this Rash and suddain Resolution, Least you repent, alas when it is too late.

_Bon._ This were enough to shake a weaker Soul, But mine it moves not; like to a Mighty Oake, I'm plac'd above the Storms of Fear or Doubt.

_Enter_ Arabella.

_Fri._ Sir, no more, the Bride,

_Ara._ Oh, Heavens defend me!

_Bon._ What ailes my Dearest Life?

_Ara._ I've lost the Key of this Chain I wear about my Neck And of these Bracelets, Oh! Unhappy Omen!

_Bon._ No, no, my Love; I found it as it lay at Random in your Chamber, and fearing it might be forgot, or lost, have laid it by; 'Tis safe my Love.

_Ara._ Indeed I'me very glad you've found it, but yet----

[sighs.

_Bon._ Yet, What my Dear? from whence proceeds that sigh?

_Ara._ Alas, I know not!

Some busie Genius Whispers to my Soul, The loss of this upon my Wedding Day Portend's a greater e're the Day be past.

_Bon._ Banish such Fears, let's in and see our Friends.

_Ara._ Indeed they all expect you; come I'll lead the way.

_Bon._ I'll go with you. _Barn-Elms_ you say?

[_Aside to_ Friendly.

_Fri._ Yes that's the place, at Seven precisely;

_Bon._ I'll meet you on the _Exchange_, and go together; If you are there before me, Take a turn or two.

[_Exit_ Bonvile, _and_ Arabella.

_Fri._ Oh my Dear _Bonvile_! Art thou then the Man?

The only, only Man that I can call Friend, And only Friend that I am bound to Kill?

A Friend, that for my sake wou'd stake his Life, Leave a Chast Bride and untouch'd Nuptial Bed For me base Man, nay worse than Savage Beast: The generous Lyon, never kills his kind They say, altho provoked to utmost rage; Yet I vile Monster, more ungrateful Man, Thus unprovoked, must kill my Brother Creature, And which is worse, my Dear and only Friend!

All for the pleasure of a Foolish Woman.

_O cruel Woman thus to Command A Task so hard, Yet what I can't withstand!

Oh! thou rare Copy of the Original, By which free Man at first received his fall; For she not only wou'd her self undo, And all her s.e.x, but d.a.m.n all Mankind too._

[_Exit._

_The End of the First Act._

ACT the Second.

SCENE the First.

_The Fields._

_Enter_ Summerfield _solus._

_Sum._ A Younger Brother! 'Tis a poor t.i.tle, and very hard to bear with: The Elder Fool inherits all the Land, whilst we are forc'd to follow _Legacies of Wit, and get 'um when we can_. Why shou'd the Law, by which we are deprived of equal Portion with the First-begotten, not bind our Fathers to cease from Procreation, and so as well deprive us of a wretched Being, as of the Thing we cannot be without: No, no, our Mothers ne're will consent to that, they love to groan and squall, tho at the same time the Gallows eccho's to their Groans, and both together labour for us. From the first we travel forth--to'thers our Journey's End. _All this I know, yet I must forward_: To beg, my Birth will ne're consent to; and _borrowing is quite out of date_--Yet starve I cannot, _nor murder I wou'd not_: It must be the Highway then, the old Trade we poor honest Rogues are forc'd too--This Place will serve for a Beginner well enough--A Beginner did I say? Yes; for this is the very first day I open Shop--Fortune, they say, uses to help the Bold, I hope she will be kind to me. Ha! who have we here? A Gentlewoman well rigg'd, and only a Servant with her, She may be a Prize worth the boarding, and faith I'll venture hard but I'll carry her.

[_He retires to a corner of the Stage._

_Enter_ Arabella _in great disorder, looking about her, with_ Symon _her Servant._

_Arab._ This way, say'st thou _Symon_, with _Friendly_?

_Sym._ Yes forsooth Mistress, with Mr. _Friendly_.

_Arab._ Alas! I'm tired and cannot travel further; my Heart is full of Fear, and yet I know not why, nor can I tell why he should use me thus,--It is not common sure for Men to leave their Brides upon the Wedding-day: And yet I cannot tell but it may be so! O wretched State of Marriage, and of Love, if this be Love! Here will I lie me down, and rest a while [_Lies down._] my wearied Limbs, unused to these sad Frights and Fears--But prethee do thou run after him, and if it be possible o'retake him too: Tell him the strange Disorder thou dost leave me in; and let him know my Father's Anger, his Friends Concern, and what is more, his _Arabella_'s sad Complaint; tell him, I grieve, I faint, I die; tell him any thing that may stay him.

_Sym._ Yes Forsooth.

_Arab._ Intreat him to return; nay, urge him all thou canst to make him come again: Nay haste, good _Symon_, fly if thou canst, for I can stir no further.

_Sym._ Well, well, Forsooth, I am gone.

[_Exit_ Symon.

_Arab._ Alas, how wretched and forlorn am I!

_I she whom once so many did admire, Whose Wit and Charms the coldest Hearts cou'd fire!

Now wretched Maid, and most unhappy Wife, In Sighs and in Complaints must end my Life.

Abandoned by my Husband, e're enjoyed, With thoughts of Pleasure, yet untasted, cloy'd.

He leaves me now to my sad Frights a Prey; O, my dear_ Bonvile! _whither dost thou stray?