La. _Lov._ to _Fastin_.) And you will be so vain to believe it none.

(_aside._) Nor _Isabella_ shall not----

_Fast._ Be nam'd only for Punishment, her Adultery with _Amorous_ is plain, therefore she shall be disgrac'd, and dye.

Mr. _Awd._ Who had told him this?

_Mar._ Why _Betty_ had told him, tho' _Isabella_' was Innocent as to the matter of Fact. Indeed Fate over-rul'd her Inclination: I will not answer you another Question, I protest: find it out as the rest of the World does.

_Fastin_ to his Attendants.) Guard the Orange Grove; there let _Isabella_ remain a Prisoner, whilst I entertain the fair _Clemene_ with a Song and Dances here.

(_Italian Song by Mr._ Pate.)

_Mar._ This Song's my own; and I think soft and moving.

L. _Whiff._ My slacken'd Fibres!----My Soul's dissolv'd.

(_Repeats._

_Mar._ Now the Grotesque Entertainment; I have mine perform'd by women, because it should differ from t'other House: if it has done em' any Injury I am sorry; but it cou'd not be hop'd, the Play must not be absolutely without Ornament. Pray take care, Gentlewomen, as we Poets are fain to do, that we may excell the Men, who first led the way.

DANCE.

_After the Dance, a Drum beats._

_Enter_ Betty.

_Prais._ Oh, Mrs. _Betty_!

_Mar._ Hold your peace, Mrs. _Betty_'s in haste.

_Bet._ Fly, Sir, fly; old _Whimsical_ is waked by another wretch, a Fornicator, who has liv'd past the Pleasure and the Sin. These wither'd Cuffs come on, follow'd by a monstrous Rabble, to seize the Lady.

Lady _Lo._ Alas, I fear.

_Fast._ Talk not of fear, my Love, while I am by; thou art as safe as if ten thousand Legions were thy Guard. First to the Castle I will take my way, and leave thee there secure; in the mean time my Men fall on upon his mobbish Soldiers, but spare the stubborn old Man, because he is my Father. (_Exeunt._

_Mar._ Now there's his Duty, there's his Duty! D'ye hear that, Mr.

_Quarelsom_!

Mr. _Awd._ Wondrous Duty! sets the Rabble about his Father's Ears, and bids 'em not hurt him.

_Mar._ Now, my Lord, and Gentlemen, and Ladies, where are the Ladies?

Mr. _Prais._ I have miss'd 'em a great while, Madam: But I wou'd not interrupt you to tell you of't.

_Mar._ Ill-bred Things! who do they expect shou'd have Patience with their dull stuff? But, as I was saying, I must beg you once again to suppose old Lord _Whimsical Loveall_, is attacking his Son's Castle, and beaten back: Now they are behind the Scenes; found a Storm again, three times; now we'll suppose 'em repuls'd. And from the Castle let the Trumpets and Violins join in a Tune of Victory. So, there's a Battle well over.

L. _Whiff._ With a very little trouble. But, Madam had not the storming the Castle been as good a Scene as the taking of _Jerusalem_.

_Mar._ Granted, my Lord. But I have a Castle taken upon the Stage; and twice, you know, had been Repet.i.tion.

Mr. _Prais._ True; your Ladiship was never in the wrong in your Life, unless it was when you said, I had no Courage.

_Mar._ Change the Scene to the Orange Grove.

_Enter_ Isabella.

Your Servant Mrs. _Cross_, I am glad to see you again.

Mrs. _Cross_. Truly the Gentleman would not be deny'd; tho' really, Madam, 'twas only fear I shou'd not serve you in't, made me backward.

_Mar._ All's well, and I'm pleas'd. Will you give your self the trouble to enter again? because that will make you look more alone.

Mrs. _Cross_. Yes, Madam. (_Goes out, and Re-enters._

_Isab._ Methought I heard the sound of War pierce the hollow Groves: Else 'twas my melancholly Fancy chim'd to my sick Brain. Yet it cannot be Delusion; for I am a Prisoner. A surly Fellow, who lookt as if Pity was his Foe, told me, I here must wait my Lord's Commands. Oh, _Fastin_!

if thou art cruel or unkind, thou art justly so: For I came to thy Arms without a Heart, without Love's Flames, or desire to kindle 'em. Oh!

why was _Amorous_ sent to my Fathers Castle, to begin the Parly? 'Tis true, he's in the vale of Years; yet Oh! such Charms remain! He found the way to my unguarded Heart; nor need he storm, I could not the least Opposition make; he streight was Lord of all within; yet, Chaste as Fires, which consume in Urns, and vainly warm the Dead, so Useless is my Flame!

_Mar._ My Lord! wou'd your Lordship imagine Mrs. _Cross_ shou'd dislike the part, when I defie all the Virgins in _Europe_ to make so cold a Simile as that?

L. _Wh._ Thou'st turn'd me into Marble; I am a Statue upon the Tomb where the Urn's inclos'd.

Mr. _Prais._ My Teeth chatter in my head.

Mr. _Awd._ Oh for a Couple of good Cudgels to warm the c.o.xcombs.

(_aside._

_Mar._ Well, dear _Isabella_, proceed.

_Isab._ Thou Mother Earth, bear thy wretched Daughter: Open thy all receiving Womb, and take thy groaning burthen in!

_Mar._ Now You'll see this Act, very full of Business. Come, Lord _Whimsicall_, and _Amorous_, hastily.

_Enter Lord_ Whimsicall _and_ Amorous.

L. _Whim._ Raise thee from Earth, thou most unhappy Wife of my most wicked Son! fly, whilst faithful _Amorous_ and I Protect thee from what his Savage rage has doom'd.

_Isab._ What has he doom'd? alas, I dare not fly with you and _Amorous_.

_Amo._ Then leave me here to Death; follow your Father, and shun approaching Danger.

_Is._ What Death! what Danger! make me understand you.

_Mar._ Ay, Poor Lady! she's unwilling _Amorous_ shou'd dye too.

L. _Whim._ Your Husband loudly proclaims you an Adultress, and means to make War on that fair work of Heav'n, your Face; And Noseless send you back to your own Father.