Ang.Behold this Face!—so lost to thy Remembrance!And then call all thy Sins about thy Soul,And let them die with thee.[Pulls off her Vizard.Will.Angelica!Ang.Yes, Traitor.Does not thy guilty Blood run shivering thro thy Veins?Hast thou no Horrour at this Sight, that tells thee,Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest?Will.Faith, no Child, my Blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows still, and that usual Heat too, that cou’d oblige thee with a Kindness, had I but opportunity.Ang.Devil! dost wanton with my Pain—have at thy Heart.Will.Hold, dear Virago! hold thy Hand a little,I am not now at leisure to be kill’d—hold and hear me—Death, I think she’s in earnest.[Aside.Ang.Oh if I take not heed,My coward Heart will leave me to his Mercy.[Aside, turning from him.—What have you, Sir, to say?—but should I hear thee,Thoud’st talk away all that is brave about me:[Follows him with the Pistol to his Breast.And I have vow’d thy Death, by all that’s sacred.Will.Why, then there’s an end of a proper handsom Fellow, that might have liv’d to have done good Service yet:—That’s all I can say to’t.Ang.Yet—I wou’d give thee—time for Penitence.[Pausingly.Will.Faith, Child, I thank God, I have ever took care to lead a good, sober, hopeful Life, and am of a Religion that teaches me to believe, I shall depart in Peace.Ang.So will the Devil: tell meHow many poor believing Fools thou hast undone;How many Hearts thou hast betray’d to ruin!— Yet these are little Mischiefs to the IllsThou’st taught mine to commit: thou’st taught it Love.Will.Egad, ’twas shreudly hurt the while.Ang.—Love, that has robb’d it of its Unconcern,Of all that Pride that taught me how to value it,And in its room a mean submissive Passion was convey’d,That made me humbly bow, which I ne’er didTo any thing but Heaven.—Thou, perjur’d Man, didst this, and with thy Oaths,Which on thy Knees thou didst devoutly make,Soften’d my yielding Heart—And then, I was a Slave—Yet still had been content to’ve worn my Chains,Worn ’em with Vanity and Joy for ever,Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.—’Twas then I was undone.[All this while follows him with a Pistol to his Breast.Will.Broke my Vows! why, where hast thou lived?Amongst the Gods! For I never heard of mortal Man,That has not broke a thousand Vows.Ang.Oh, Impudence!Will.Angelica!that Beauty has been too long tempting,Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,Who in the amorous Favour, no doubt have swornLike me; did they all die in that Faith? still adoring?I do not think they did.Ang.No, faithless Man: had I repaid their Vows, as I did thine, I wou’d have kill’d the ungrateful that had abandon’d me.Will.This old General has quite spoil’d thee, nothing makes a Woman so vain, as being flatter’d; your old Lover ever supplies the Defects of Age, with intolerable Dotage, vast Charge, and that which you call Constancy; and attributing all this to your own Merits, you domineer, and throw your Favours in’s Teeth, upbraiding him still with the Defects of Age, and cuckold him as often as he deceives your Expectations. But the gay, young, brisk Lover, that brings his equal Fires, and can give you Dart for Dart, he’ll be as nice as you sometimes.Ang.All this thou’st made me know, for which I hate thee.Had I remain’d in innocent Security,I shou’d have thought all Men were born my Slaves;And worn my Pow’r like Lightning in my Eyes,To have destroy’d at Pleasure when offended.—But when Love held the Mirror, the undeceiving GlassReflected all the Weakness of my Soul, and made me know,My richest Treasure being lost, my Honour,All the remaining Spoil cou’d not be worthThe Conqueror’s Care or Value.—Oh how I fell like a long worship’d Idol,Discovering all the Cheat!Wou’d not the Incense and rich Sacrifice,Which blind Devotion offer’d at my Altars,Have fall’n to thee?Why woud’st thou then destroy my fancy’d Power?Will.By Heaven thou art brave, and I admire thee strangely.I wish I were that dull, that constant thing,Which thou woud’st have, and Nature never meant me:I must, like chearful Birds, sing in all Groves,And perch on every Bough,Billing the next kind She that flies to meet me;Yet after all cou’d build my Nest with thee,Thither repairing when I’d lov’d my round,And still reserve a tributary Flame.—To gain your Credit, I’ll pay you back your Charity,And be oblig’d for nothing but for Love.[Offers her a Purse of Gold.Ang.Oh that thou wert in earnest!So mean a Thought of me,Wou’d turn my Rage to Scorn, and I shou’d pity thee,And give thee leave to live;Which for the publick Safety of our Sex,And my own private Injuries, I dare not do.Prepare—[Follows still, as before.—I will no more be tempted with Replies.Will.Sure—Ang.Another Word will damn thee! I’ve heard thee talk too long.[She follows him with a Pistol ready to shoot: he retires still amaz’d.Enter DonAntonio, his Arm in a Scarf, and lays hold on the Pistol.Ant.Hah!Angelica!Ang.Antonio!What Devilbrought thee hither?Ant.Love and Curiosity, seeing your Coach at Door. Let me disarm you of this unbecoming Instrument of Death.—[Takes away the Pistol.]Amongst the Number of your Slaves, was there not one worthy the Honour to have fought your Quarrel?—Who are you, Sir, that are so very wretchedTo merit Death from her?Will.One, Sir, that cou’d have made a better End of an amorous Quarrel without you, than with you.Ant.Sure ’tis some Rival—hah—the very Man took down her Picture yesterday—the very same that set on me last night—Blest opportunity—[Offers to shoot him.Ang.Hold, you’re mistaken, Sir.Ant.By Heaven the very same!—Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?Will.Sir, I don’t use to be examin’d, and am ill at all Disputes but this—[Draws,Anton.offers to shoot.Ang.Oh, hold! you see he’s arm’d with certain Death:[ToWill.—And you,Antonio, I command you hold,By all the Passion you’ve so lately vow’d me.Enter DonPedro, sees Antonio, and stays.Ped.Hah,Antonio!andAngelica![Aside.Ant.When I refuse Obedience to your Will,May you destroy me with your mortal Hate.By all that’s Holy I adore you so,That even my Rival, who has Charms enoughTo make him fall a Victim to my Jealousy,Shall live, nay, and have leave to love on still.Ped.What’s this I hear?[Aside.Ang.Ah thus, ’twas thus he talk’d, and I believ’d.[Pointing toWill.—Antonio, yesterday,I’d not have sold my Interest in his Heart,For all the Sword has won and lost in Battle.—But now to show my utmost of Contempt,I give thee Life—which if thou would’st preserve,Live where my Eyes may never see thee more,Live to undo some one, whose Soul may proveSo bravely constant to revenge my Love.[Goes out,Ant.follows, butPed.pulls him back.Ped.Antonio—stay.Ant.DonPedro—Ped.What Coward Fear was that prevented theeFrom meeting me this Morning on theMolo?Ant.Meet thee?Ped.Yes me; I was the Man that dar’d thee to’t.Ant.Hast thou so often seen me fight in War,To find no better Cause to excuse my Absence?—I sent my Sword and one to do thee Right,Finding my self uncapable to use a Sword.Ped.But ’twasFlorinda’sQuarrel that we fought,And you to shew how little you esteem’d her,Sent me your Rival, giving him your Interest.—But I have found the Cause of this Affront,But when I meet you fit for the Dispute,—I’ll tell you my Resentment.Ant.I shall be ready, Sir, e’er long to do you Reason.[ExitAnt.Ped.If I cou’d findFlorinda, now whilst my Anger’s high, I think I shou’d be kind, and give her toBelvilein Revenge.Will.Faith, Sir, I know not what you wou’d do, but I believe the Priest within has been so kind.Ped.How! my Sister married?Will.I hope by this time she is, and bedded too, or he has not my longings about him.Ped.Dares he do thus? Does he not fear my Pow’r?Will.Faith not at all. If you will go in, and thank him for the Favour he has done your Sister, so; if not, Sir, my Power’s greater in this House than yours; I have a damn’d surly Crew here, that will keep you till the next Tide, and then clap you an board my Prize; my Ship lies but a League off theMolo, and we shall show your Donship a damn’dTramontanaRover’s Trick.EnterBelvile.Belv.This Rogue’s in some new Mischief—hah,Pedroreturn’d!Ped.ColonelBelvile, I hear you have married my Sister.Belv.You have heard truth then, Sir.Ped.Have I so? then, Sir, I wish you Joy.Belv.How!Ped.By this Embrace I do, and I glad on’t.Belv.Are you in earnest?Ped.By our long Friendship and my Obligations to thee, I am. The sudden Change I’ll give you Reasons for anon. Come lead me into my Sister, that she may know I now approve her Choice.[ExitBel.withPed.[Will.goes to follow them. EnterHellenaas before in Boy’s Clothes, and pulls him back.Will.Ha! my Gipsy—Now a thousand Blessings on thee for this Kindness. Egad, Child, I was e’en in despair of ever seeing thee again; my Friends are all provided for within, each Man his kind Woman.Hell.Hah! I thought they had serv’d me some such Trick.Will.And I was e’en resolv’d to go aboard, condemn my self to my lone Cabin, and the Thoughts of thee.Hell.And cou’d you have left me behind? wou’d you have been so ill-natur’d?Will.Why, ’twou’d have broke my Heart, Child—but since we are met again, I defy foul Weather to part us.Hell.And wou’d you be a faithful Friend now, if a Maid shou’d trust you?Will.For a Friend I cannot promise, thou art of a Form so excellent, a Face and Humour too good for cold dull Friendship; I am parlously afraid of being in love, Child, and you have not forgot how severely you have us’d me.Hell.That’s all one, such Usage you must still look for, to find out all your Haunts, to rail at you to all that love you, till I have made you love only me in your own Defence, because no body else will love.Will.But hast thou no better Quality to recommend thy self by?Hell.Faith none, Captain—Why, ’twill be the greater Charity to take me for thy Mistress, I am a lone Child, a kind of Orphan Lover; and why I shou’d die a Maid, and in a Captain’s Hands too, I do not understand.Will.Egad, I was never claw’d away with Broad-Sides from any Female before, thou hast one Virtue I adore, good-Nature; I hate a coy demure Mistress, she’s as troublesome as a Colt, I’ll break none; no, give me a mad Mistress when mew’d, and in flying on[e] I dare trust upon the Wing, that whilst she’s kind will come to the Lure.Hell.Nay, as kind as you will, good Captain, whilst it lasts, but let’s lose no time.Will.My time’s as precious to me, as thine can be; therefore, dear Creature, since we are so well agreed, let’s retire to my Chamber, and if ever thou were treated with such savory Love—Come—My Bed’s prepar’d for such a Guest, all clean and sweet as thy fair self; I love to steal a Dish and a Bottle with a Friend, and hate long Graces—Come, let’s retire and fall to.Hell.’Tis but getting my Consent, and the Business is soon done; let but old GafferHymenand his Priest say Amen to’t, and I dare lay my Mother’s Daughter by as proper a Fellow as your Father’s Son, without fear or blushing.Will.Hold, hold, no Bugg Words, Child, Priest andHymen: prithee add Hangman to ’em to make up the Consort—No, no, we’ll have no Vows but Love, Child,nor Witness but the Lover; the kind Diety injoins naught but love and enjoy.Hymenand Priest wait still upon Portion, and Joynture; Love and Beauty have their own Ceremonies. Marriage is as certain a Bane to Love, as lending Money is to Friendship: I’ll neither ask nor give a Vow, tho I could be content to turn Gipsy, and become a Left-hand Bridegroom, to have the Pleasure of working that great Miracle of making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture; ’tis upse Gipsy that, and if I miss, I’ll lose my Labour.Hell.And if you do not lose, what shall I get? A Cradle full of Noise and Mischief, with a Pack of Repentance at my Back? Can you teach me to weaveIncleto pass my time with? ’TisupseGipsy that too.Will.I can teach thee to weave a true Love’s Knot better.Hell.So can my Dog.Will.Well, I see we are both upon our Guard, and I see there’s no way to conquer good Nature, but by yielding—here—give me thy Hand—one Kiss and I am thine—Hell.One Kiss! How like my Page he speaks; I am resolv’d you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking Sum—He that will be satisfied with one Kiss, will never die of that Longing; good Friend single-Kiss, is all your talking come to this? A Kiss, a Caudle! farewel, Captain single-Kiss.[Going out he stays her.Will.Nay, if we part so, let me die like a Bird upon a Bough, at the Sheriff’s Charge. By Heaven, both theIndiesshall not buy thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will marry thee, and we are so of one Humour, it must be a Bargain—give me thy Hand—[Kisses her hand.]And now let the blind ones (Love and Fortune) do their worst.Hell.Why, God-a-mercy, Captain!Will.But harkye—The Bargain is now made; but is it not fit we should know each other’s Names? That whenwe have Reason to curse one another hereafter, and People ask me who ’tis I give to the Devil, I may at least be able to tell what Family you came of.Hell.Good reason, Captain; and where I have cause, (as I doubt not but I shall have plentiful) that I may know at whom to throw my—Blessings—I beseech ye your Name.Will.I am call’dRobert the Constant.Hell.A very fine Name! pray was it your Faulkner or Butler that christen’d you? Do they not use to whistle when then call you?Will.I hope you have a better, that a Man may name without crossing himself, you are so merry with mine.Hell.I am call’dHellena the Inconstant.EnterPedro,Belvile,Florinda,Fred.Valeria.Ped.Hah!Hellena!Flor.Hellena!Hell.The very same—hah my Brother! now, Captain, shew your Love and Courage; stand to your Arms, and defend me bravely, or I am lost for ever.Ped.What’s this I hear? false Girl, how came you hither, and what’s your Business? Speak.[Goes roughly to her.Will.Hold off, Sir, you have leave to parly only.[Puts himself between.Hell.I had e’en as good tell it, as you guess it. Faith, Brother, my Business is the same with all living Creatures of my Age, to love, and be loved, and here’s the Man.Ped.Perfidious Maid, hast thou deceiv’d me too, deceiv’d thy self and Heaven?Hell.’Tis time enough to make my Peace with that: Be you but kind, let me alone with Heaven.Ped.Belvile, I did not expect this false Play from you; was’t not enough you’d gainFlorinda(which I pardon’d) but your leud Friends too must be inrich’d with the Spoils of a noble Family?Belv.Faith, Sir, I am as much surpriz’d at this as you can be: Yet, Sir, my Friends are Gentlemen, and ought to be esteem’d for their Misfortunes, since they have the Glory to suffer with the best of Men and Kings; ’tis true, he’s a Rover of Fortune, yet a Prince aboard his little wooden World.Ped.What’s this to the maintenance of a Woman or her Birth and Quality?Will.Faith, Sir, I can boast of nothing but a Sword which does me Right where-e’er I come, and has defended a worse Cause than a Woman’s: and since I lov’d her before I either knew her Birth or Name, I must pursue my Resolution, and marry her.Ped.And is all your holy Intent of becoming a Nun debauch’d into a Desire of Man?Hell.Why—I have consider’d the matter, Brother, and find the Three hundred thousand Crowns my Uncle left me (and you cannot keep from me) will be better laid out in Love than in Religion, and turn to as good an Account—let most Voices carry it, for Heaven or the Captain?All cry,a Captain, a Captain.Hell.Look ye, Sir,’tis a clear Case.Ped.Oh I am mad—if I refuse, my Life’s in Danger—[Aside.]—Come—There’s one motive induces me—take her—I shall now be free from the fear of her Honour; guard it you now, if you can, I have been a Slave to’t long enough.[Gives her to him.Will.Faith, Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a Woman’s Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it.Hell.Well said, Captain.Ped.This was your Plot, Mistress, but I hope you have married one that will revenge my Quarrel to you—[ToValeria.Val.There’s no altering Destiny, Sir.Ped.Sooner than a Woman’s Will, therefore I forgive you all—and wish you may get my Father’s Pardon as easily; which I fear.EnterBluntdrest in aSpanishHabit, looking very ridiculously; his Man adjusting his Band.Man.’Tis very well, Sir.Blunt.Well, Sir, ’dsheartlikins I tell you ’tis damnable ill, Sir—a Spanish Habit, good Lord! cou’d the Devil and my Taylor devise no other Punishment for me, but the Mode of a Nation I abominate?Belv.What’s the matter,Ned?Blunt.Pray view me round, and judge—[Turns round.Belv.I must confess thou art a kind of an odd Figure.Blunt.In a Spanish Habit with a Vengeance! I had rather be in the Inquisition for Judaism, than in this Doublet and Breeches; a Pillory were an easy Collar to this, three Handfuls high; and these Shoes too are worse than the Stocks, with the Sole an Inch shorter than my Foot: In fine, Gentlemen, methinks I look altogether like a Bag of Bays stuff’d full of Fools Flesh.Belv.Methinks ’tis well, and makes thee looken Cavalier:Come, Sir, settle your Face, and salute our Friends, Lady—Blunt.Hah! Say’st thou so, my little Rover?[ToHell.]Lady—(if you be one) give me leave to kiss your Hand, and tell you, adsheartlikins, for all I look so, I am your humble Servant—A Pox of mySpanishHabit.Will.Hark—what’s this?[Musick is heard to Play.EnterBoy.Boy.Sir, as the Custom is, the gay People in Masquerade, who make every Man’s House their own, are coming up.Enter several Men and Women in masquing Habits, with Musick, they put themselves in order and dance.Blunt.Adsheartlikins, wou’d ’twere lawful to pull off their false Faces, that I might see if my Doxy were not amongst ’em.Belv.Ladies and Gentlemen, since you are come soa propos, you must take a small Collation with us.[To the Masquers.Will.Whilst we’ll to the Good Man within, who stays to give us a Cast of his Office.[ToHell.—Have you no trembling at the near approach?Hell.No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.Will.Egad, thou’rt a brave Girl, and I admire thy Love and Courage.Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread,Who venture in the Storms o’th’ Marriage-Bed.[Exeunt.EPILOGUEThe banisht Cavaliers! a Roving Blade!A popish Carnival! a Masquerade!The Devil’s in’t if this will please the Nation,In these our blessed Times of Reformation,When Conventicling is so much in Fashion.And yet—That mutinous Tribe less Factions do beget,Than your continual differing in Wit;Your Judgment’s (as your Passions) a Disease:Nor Muse nor Miss your Appetite can please;You’re grown as nice as queasy Consciences,Whose each Convulsion, when the Spirit moves,Damns every thing that Maggot disapproves.With canting Rule you wou’d the Stage refine,And to dull Method all our Sense confine.With th’ Insolence of Common-wealths you rule,Where each gay Fop, and politick brave Fool,On Monarch Wit impose without controul.As for the last who seldom sees a Play,Unless it be the old Black-Fryers way,Shaking his empty Noddle o’erBamboo,He crys—Good Faith, these Plays will never do.—Ah, Sir, in my young days, what lofty Wit,What high-strain’d Scenes of Fighting there were writ:These are slight airy Toys. But tell me, pray,What has theHouse of Commonsdone to day?Then shews his Politicks, to let you seeOf State Affairs he’ll judge as notably,As he can do of Wit and Poetry.The younger Sparks, who hither do resort,Cry—Pox o’ your gentle things, give us more Sport;—Damn me, I’m sure ’twill never please the Court.Such Fops are never pleas’d, unless the PlayBe stuff’d with Fools, as brisk and dull as they:Such might the Half-Crown spare, and in a GlassAt home behold a more accomplisht Ass,Where they may set their Cravats, Wigs and Faces,And practice all their Buffoonry Grimaces;See how this—Huff becomes—this Dammy—flare—Which they at home may act, because they dare,But—must with prudent Caution do elsewhere.Oh that ourNokes, orTony Leecould showA Fop but half so much to th’ Life as you.POST-SCRIPTTHIS Play had been sooner in Print, but for a Report about the Town (made by some either very Malitious or very Ignorant) that ’twasThomasoaltered; which made the Book-sellers fear some trouble from the Proprietor of that Admirable Play, which indeed has Wit enough to stock a Poet, and is not to be piec’t or mended by any but the Excellent Author himself; That I have stol’n some hints from it may be a proof, that I valu’d it more than to pretend to alter it: had I had the Dexterity of some Poets who are not more expert in stealing than in the Art of Concealing, and who even that way out-do theSpartan-Boys I might have appropriated all to myself, but I, vainly proud of my Judgment hang out the Sign ofAngelica(the only Stol’n Object) to give Notice where a great part of the Wit dwelt; though if thePlay of theNovellawere as well worth remembring asThomaso, they might (bating the Name) have as well said, I took it from thence: I will only say the Plot and Bus’ness (not to boast on’t) is my own: as for the Words and Characters, I leave the Reader to judge and compare ’em withThomaso, to whom I recommend the great Entertainment of reading it, tho’ had this succeeded ill, I shou’d have had no need of imploring that Justice from the Critics, who are naturally so kind to any that pretend to usurp their Dominion, they wou’d doubtless have given me the whole Honour on’t. Therefore I will only say inEnglishwhatthe famousVirgildoes in Latin:I make Verses and others have the Fame.
Ang.Behold this Face!—so lost to thy Remembrance!And then call all thy Sins about thy Soul,And let them die with thee.[Pulls off her Vizard.
Ang.Behold this Face!—so lost to thy Remembrance!
And then call all thy Sins about thy Soul,
And let them die with thee.[Pulls off her Vizard.
Will.Angelica!
Ang.Yes, Traitor.Does not thy guilty Blood run shivering thro thy Veins?Hast thou no Horrour at this Sight, that tells thee,Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest?
Ang.Yes, Traitor.
Does not thy guilty Blood run shivering thro thy Veins?
Hast thou no Horrour at this Sight, that tells thee,
Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest?
Will.Faith, no Child, my Blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows still, and that usual Heat too, that cou’d oblige thee with a Kindness, had I but opportunity.
Ang.Devil! dost wanton with my Pain—have at thy Heart.
Will.Hold, dear Virago! hold thy Hand a little,I am not now at leisure to be kill’d—hold and hear me—Death, I think she’s in earnest.[Aside.
Ang.Oh if I take not heed,My coward Heart will leave me to his Mercy.[Aside, turning from him.—What have you, Sir, to say?—but should I hear thee,Thoud’st talk away all that is brave about me:[Follows him with the Pistol to his Breast.And I have vow’d thy Death, by all that’s sacred.
Ang.Oh if I take not heed,
My coward Heart will leave me to his Mercy.[Aside, turning from him.
—What have you, Sir, to say?—but should I hear thee,
Thoud’st talk away all that is brave about me:[Follows him with the Pistol to his Breast.
And I have vow’d thy Death, by all that’s sacred.
Will.Why, then there’s an end of a proper handsom Fellow, that might have liv’d to have done good Service yet:—That’s all I can say to’t.
Ang.Yet—I wou’d give thee—time for Penitence.[Pausingly.
Will.Faith, Child, I thank God, I have ever took care to lead a good, sober, hopeful Life, and am of a Religion that teaches me to believe, I shall depart in Peace.
Ang.So will the Devil: tell meHow many poor believing Fools thou hast undone;How many Hearts thou hast betray’d to ruin!— Yet these are little Mischiefs to the IllsThou’st taught mine to commit: thou’st taught it Love.
Ang.So will the Devil: tell me
How many poor believing Fools thou hast undone;
How many Hearts thou hast betray’d to ruin!
— Yet these are little Mischiefs to the Ills
Thou’st taught mine to commit: thou’st taught it Love.
Will.Egad, ’twas shreudly hurt the while.
Ang.—Love, that has robb’d it of its Unconcern,Of all that Pride that taught me how to value it,And in its room a mean submissive Passion was convey’d,That made me humbly bow, which I ne’er didTo any thing but Heaven.—Thou, perjur’d Man, didst this, and with thy Oaths,Which on thy Knees thou didst devoutly make,Soften’d my yielding Heart—And then, I was a Slave—Yet still had been content to’ve worn my Chains,Worn ’em with Vanity and Joy for ever,Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.—’Twas then I was undone.[All this while follows him with a Pistol to his Breast.
Ang.—Love, that has robb’d it of its Unconcern,
Of all that Pride that taught me how to value it,
And in its room a mean submissive Passion was convey’d,
That made me humbly bow, which I ne’er did
To any thing but Heaven.
—Thou, perjur’d Man, didst this, and with thy Oaths,
Which on thy Knees thou didst devoutly make,
Soften’d my yielding Heart—And then, I was a Slave—
Yet still had been content to’ve worn my Chains,
Worn ’em with Vanity and Joy for ever,
Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.
—’Twas then I was undone.[All this while follows him with a Pistol to his Breast.
Will.Broke my Vows! why, where hast thou lived?Amongst the Gods! For I never heard of mortal Man,That has not broke a thousand Vows.
Will.Broke my Vows! why, where hast thou lived?
Amongst the Gods! For I never heard of mortal Man,
That has not broke a thousand Vows.
Ang.Oh, Impudence!
Ang.Oh, Impudence!
Will.Angelica!that Beauty has been too long tempting,Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,Who in the amorous Favour, no doubt have swornLike me; did they all die in that Faith? still adoring?I do not think they did.
Will.Angelica!that Beauty has been too long tempting,
Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,
Who in the amorous Favour, no doubt have sworn
Like me; did they all die in that Faith? still adoring?
I do not think they did.
Ang.No, faithless Man: had I repaid their Vows, as I did thine, I wou’d have kill’d the ungrateful that had abandon’d me.
Will.This old General has quite spoil’d thee, nothing makes a Woman so vain, as being flatter’d; your old Lover ever supplies the Defects of Age, with intolerable Dotage, vast Charge, and that which you call Constancy; and attributing all this to your own Merits, you domineer, and throw your Favours in’s Teeth, upbraiding him still with the Defects of Age, and cuckold him as often as he deceives your Expectations. But the gay, young, brisk Lover, that brings his equal Fires, and can give you Dart for Dart, he’ll be as nice as you sometimes.
Ang.All this thou’st made me know, for which I hate thee.Had I remain’d in innocent Security,I shou’d have thought all Men were born my Slaves;And worn my Pow’r like Lightning in my Eyes,To have destroy’d at Pleasure when offended.—But when Love held the Mirror, the undeceiving GlassReflected all the Weakness of my Soul, and made me know,My richest Treasure being lost, my Honour,All the remaining Spoil cou’d not be worthThe Conqueror’s Care or Value.—Oh how I fell like a long worship’d Idol,Discovering all the Cheat!Wou’d not the Incense and rich Sacrifice,Which blind Devotion offer’d at my Altars,Have fall’n to thee?Why woud’st thou then destroy my fancy’d Power?
Ang.All this thou’st made me know, for which I hate thee.
Had I remain’d in innocent Security,
I shou’d have thought all Men were born my Slaves;
And worn my Pow’r like Lightning in my Eyes,
To have destroy’d at Pleasure when offended.
—But when Love held the Mirror, the undeceiving Glass
Reflected all the Weakness of my Soul, and made me know,
My richest Treasure being lost, my Honour,
All the remaining Spoil cou’d not be worth
The Conqueror’s Care or Value.
—Oh how I fell like a long worship’d Idol,
Discovering all the Cheat!
Wou’d not the Incense and rich Sacrifice,
Which blind Devotion offer’d at my Altars,
Have fall’n to thee?
Why woud’st thou then destroy my fancy’d Power?
Will.By Heaven thou art brave, and I admire thee strangely.I wish I were that dull, that constant thing,Which thou woud’st have, and Nature never meant me:I must, like chearful Birds, sing in all Groves,And perch on every Bough,Billing the next kind She that flies to meet me;Yet after all cou’d build my Nest with thee,Thither repairing when I’d lov’d my round,And still reserve a tributary Flame.—To gain your Credit, I’ll pay you back your Charity,And be oblig’d for nothing but for Love.[Offers her a Purse of Gold.
Will.By Heaven thou art brave, and I admire thee strangely.
I wish I were that dull, that constant thing,
Which thou woud’st have, and Nature never meant me:
I must, like chearful Birds, sing in all Groves,
And perch on every Bough,
Billing the next kind She that flies to meet me;
Yet after all cou’d build my Nest with thee,
Thither repairing when I’d lov’d my round,
And still reserve a tributary Flame.
—To gain your Credit, I’ll pay you back your Charity,
And be oblig’d for nothing but for Love.[Offers her a Purse of Gold.
Ang.Oh that thou wert in earnest!So mean a Thought of me,Wou’d turn my Rage to Scorn, and I shou’d pity thee,And give thee leave to live;Which for the publick Safety of our Sex,And my own private Injuries, I dare not do.Prepare—[Follows still, as before.—I will no more be tempted with Replies.
Ang.Oh that thou wert in earnest!
So mean a Thought of me,
Wou’d turn my Rage to Scorn, and I shou’d pity thee,
And give thee leave to live;
Which for the publick Safety of our Sex,
And my own private Injuries, I dare not do.
Prepare—[Follows still, as before.
—I will no more be tempted with Replies.
Will.Sure—
Ang.Another Word will damn thee! I’ve heard thee talk too long.[She follows him with a Pistol ready to shoot: he retires still amaz’d.
Enter DonAntonio, his Arm in a Scarf, and lays hold on the Pistol.
Ant.Hah!Angelica!
Ang.Antonio!What Devilbrought thee hither?
Ant.Love and Curiosity, seeing your Coach at Door. Let me disarm you of this unbecoming Instrument of Death.—[Takes away the Pistol.]Amongst the Number of your Slaves, was there not one worthy the Honour to have fought your Quarrel?
—Who are you, Sir, that are so very wretchedTo merit Death from her?
—Who are you, Sir, that are so very wretched
To merit Death from her?
Will.One, Sir, that cou’d have made a better End of an amorous Quarrel without you, than with you.
Ant.Sure ’tis some Rival—hah—the very Man took down her Picture yesterday—the very same that set on me last night—Blest opportunity—[Offers to shoot him.
Ang.Hold, you’re mistaken, Sir.
Ant.By Heaven the very same!—Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?
Ant.By Heaven the very same!
—Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?
Will.Sir, I don’t use to be examin’d, and am ill at all Disputes but this—[Draws,Anton.offers to shoot.
Ang.Oh, hold! you see he’s arm’d with certain Death:[ToWill.—And you,Antonio, I command you hold,By all the Passion you’ve so lately vow’d me.
Ang.Oh, hold! you see he’s arm’d with certain Death:[ToWill.
—And you,Antonio, I command you hold,
By all the Passion you’ve so lately vow’d me.
Enter DonPedro, sees Antonio, and stays.
Ped.Hah,Antonio!andAngelica![Aside.
Ant.When I refuse Obedience to your Will,May you destroy me with your mortal Hate.By all that’s Holy I adore you so,That even my Rival, who has Charms enoughTo make him fall a Victim to my Jealousy,Shall live, nay, and have leave to love on still.
Ant.When I refuse Obedience to your Will,
May you destroy me with your mortal Hate.
By all that’s Holy I adore you so,
That even my Rival, who has Charms enough
To make him fall a Victim to my Jealousy,
Shall live, nay, and have leave to love on still.
Ped.What’s this I hear?[Aside.
Ang.Ah thus, ’twas thus he talk’d, and I believ’d.[Pointing toWill.—Antonio, yesterday,I’d not have sold my Interest in his Heart,For all the Sword has won and lost in Battle.—But now to show my utmost of Contempt,I give thee Life—which if thou would’st preserve,Live where my Eyes may never see thee more,Live to undo some one, whose Soul may proveSo bravely constant to revenge my Love.[Goes out,Ant.follows, butPed.pulls him back.
Ang.Ah thus, ’twas thus he talk’d, and I believ’d.[Pointing toWill.
—Antonio, yesterday,
I’d not have sold my Interest in his Heart,
For all the Sword has won and lost in Battle.
—But now to show my utmost of Contempt,
I give thee Life—which if thou would’st preserve,
Live where my Eyes may never see thee more,
Live to undo some one, whose Soul may prove
So bravely constant to revenge my Love.[Goes out,Ant.follows, butPed.pulls him back.
Ped.Antonio—stay.
Ant.DonPedro—
Ped.What Coward Fear was that prevented theeFrom meeting me this Morning on theMolo?
Ped.What Coward Fear was that prevented thee
From meeting me this Morning on theMolo?
Ant.Meet thee?
Ant.Meet thee?
Ped.Yes me; I was the Man that dar’d thee to’t.
Ped.Yes me; I was the Man that dar’d thee to’t.
Ant.Hast thou so often seen me fight in War,To find no better Cause to excuse my Absence?—I sent my Sword and one to do thee Right,Finding my self uncapable to use a Sword.
Ant.Hast thou so often seen me fight in War,
To find no better Cause to excuse my Absence?
—I sent my Sword and one to do thee Right,
Finding my self uncapable to use a Sword.
Ped.But ’twasFlorinda’sQuarrel that we fought,And you to shew how little you esteem’d her,Sent me your Rival, giving him your Interest.—But I have found the Cause of this Affront,But when I meet you fit for the Dispute,—I’ll tell you my Resentment.
Ped.But ’twasFlorinda’sQuarrel that we fought,
And you to shew how little you esteem’d her,
Sent me your Rival, giving him your Interest.
—But I have found the Cause of this Affront,
But when I meet you fit for the Dispute,
—I’ll tell you my Resentment.
Ant.I shall be ready, Sir, e’er long to do you Reason.[ExitAnt.
Ped.If I cou’d findFlorinda, now whilst my Anger’s high, I think I shou’d be kind, and give her toBelvilein Revenge.
Will.Faith, Sir, I know not what you wou’d do, but I believe the Priest within has been so kind.
Ped.How! my Sister married?
Will.I hope by this time she is, and bedded too, or he has not my longings about him.
Ped.Dares he do thus? Does he not fear my Pow’r?
Will.Faith not at all. If you will go in, and thank him for the Favour he has done your Sister, so; if not, Sir, my Power’s greater in this House than yours; I have a damn’d surly Crew here, that will keep you till the next Tide, and then clap you an board my Prize; my Ship lies but a League off theMolo, and we shall show your Donship a damn’dTramontanaRover’s Trick.
EnterBelvile.
Belv.This Rogue’s in some new Mischief—hah,Pedroreturn’d!
Ped.ColonelBelvile, I hear you have married my Sister.
Belv.You have heard truth then, Sir.
Ped.Have I so? then, Sir, I wish you Joy.
Belv.How!
Ped.By this Embrace I do, and I glad on’t.
Belv.Are you in earnest?
Ped.By our long Friendship and my Obligations to thee, I am. The sudden Change I’ll give you Reasons for anon. Come lead me into my Sister, that she may know I now approve her Choice.[ExitBel.withPed.
[Will.goes to follow them. EnterHellenaas before in Boy’s Clothes, and pulls him back.
Will.Ha! my Gipsy—Now a thousand Blessings on thee for this Kindness. Egad, Child, I was e’en in despair of ever seeing thee again; my Friends are all provided for within, each Man his kind Woman.
Hell.Hah! I thought they had serv’d me some such Trick.
Will.And I was e’en resolv’d to go aboard, condemn my self to my lone Cabin, and the Thoughts of thee.
Hell.And cou’d you have left me behind? wou’d you have been so ill-natur’d?
Will.Why, ’twou’d have broke my Heart, Child—but since we are met again, I defy foul Weather to part us.
Hell.And wou’d you be a faithful Friend now, if a Maid shou’d trust you?
Will.For a Friend I cannot promise, thou art of a Form so excellent, a Face and Humour too good for cold dull Friendship; I am parlously afraid of being in love, Child, and you have not forgot how severely you have us’d me.
Hell.That’s all one, such Usage you must still look for, to find out all your Haunts, to rail at you to all that love you, till I have made you love only me in your own Defence, because no body else will love.
Will.But hast thou no better Quality to recommend thy self by?
Hell.Faith none, Captain—Why, ’twill be the greater Charity to take me for thy Mistress, I am a lone Child, a kind of Orphan Lover; and why I shou’d die a Maid, and in a Captain’s Hands too, I do not understand.
Will.Egad, I was never claw’d away with Broad-Sides from any Female before, thou hast one Virtue I adore, good-Nature; I hate a coy demure Mistress, she’s as troublesome as a Colt, I’ll break none; no, give me a mad Mistress when mew’d, and in flying on[e] I dare trust upon the Wing, that whilst she’s kind will come to the Lure.
Hell.Nay, as kind as you will, good Captain, whilst it lasts, but let’s lose no time.
Will.My time’s as precious to me, as thine can be; therefore, dear Creature, since we are so well agreed, let’s retire to my Chamber, and if ever thou were treated with such savory Love—Come—My Bed’s prepar’d for such a Guest, all clean and sweet as thy fair self; I love to steal a Dish and a Bottle with a Friend, and hate long Graces—Come, let’s retire and fall to.
Hell.’Tis but getting my Consent, and the Business is soon done; let but old GafferHymenand his Priest say Amen to’t, and I dare lay my Mother’s Daughter by as proper a Fellow as your Father’s Son, without fear or blushing.
Will.Hold, hold, no Bugg Words, Child, Priest andHymen: prithee add Hangman to ’em to make up the Consort—No, no, we’ll have no Vows but Love, Child,nor Witness but the Lover; the kind Diety injoins naught but love and enjoy.Hymenand Priest wait still upon Portion, and Joynture; Love and Beauty have their own Ceremonies. Marriage is as certain a Bane to Love, as lending Money is to Friendship: I’ll neither ask nor give a Vow, tho I could be content to turn Gipsy, and become a Left-hand Bridegroom, to have the Pleasure of working that great Miracle of making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture; ’tis upse Gipsy that, and if I miss, I’ll lose my Labour.
Hell.And if you do not lose, what shall I get? A Cradle full of Noise and Mischief, with a Pack of Repentance at my Back? Can you teach me to weaveIncleto pass my time with? ’TisupseGipsy that too.
Will.I can teach thee to weave a true Love’s Knot better.
Hell.So can my Dog.
Will.Well, I see we are both upon our Guard, and I see there’s no way to conquer good Nature, but by yielding—here—give me thy Hand—one Kiss and I am thine—
Hell.One Kiss! How like my Page he speaks; I am resolv’d you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking Sum—He that will be satisfied with one Kiss, will never die of that Longing; good Friend single-Kiss, is all your talking come to this? A Kiss, a Caudle! farewel, Captain single-Kiss.[Going out he stays her.
Will.Nay, if we part so, let me die like a Bird upon a Bough, at the Sheriff’s Charge. By Heaven, both theIndiesshall not buy thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will marry thee, and we are so of one Humour, it must be a Bargain—give me thy Hand—[Kisses her hand.]And now let the blind ones (Love and Fortune) do their worst.
Hell.Why, God-a-mercy, Captain!
Will.But harkye—The Bargain is now made; but is it not fit we should know each other’s Names? That whenwe have Reason to curse one another hereafter, and People ask me who ’tis I give to the Devil, I may at least be able to tell what Family you came of.
Hell.Good reason, Captain; and where I have cause, (as I doubt not but I shall have plentiful) that I may know at whom to throw my—Blessings—I beseech ye your Name.
Will.I am call’dRobert the Constant.
Hell.A very fine Name! pray was it your Faulkner or Butler that christen’d you? Do they not use to whistle when then call you?
Will.I hope you have a better, that a Man may name without crossing himself, you are so merry with mine.
Hell.I am call’dHellena the Inconstant.
EnterPedro,Belvile,Florinda,Fred.Valeria.
Ped.Hah!Hellena!
Flor.Hellena!
Hell.The very same—hah my Brother! now, Captain, shew your Love and Courage; stand to your Arms, and defend me bravely, or I am lost for ever.
Ped.What’s this I hear? false Girl, how came you hither, and what’s your Business? Speak.[Goes roughly to her.
Will.Hold off, Sir, you have leave to parly only.[Puts himself between.
Hell.I had e’en as good tell it, as you guess it. Faith, Brother, my Business is the same with all living Creatures of my Age, to love, and be loved, and here’s the Man.
Ped.Perfidious Maid, hast thou deceiv’d me too, deceiv’d thy self and Heaven?
Hell.’Tis time enough to make my Peace with that: Be you but kind, let me alone with Heaven.
Ped.Belvile, I did not expect this false Play from you; was’t not enough you’d gainFlorinda(which I pardon’d) but your leud Friends too must be inrich’d with the Spoils of a noble Family?
Belv.Faith, Sir, I am as much surpriz’d at this as you can be: Yet, Sir, my Friends are Gentlemen, and ought to be esteem’d for their Misfortunes, since they have the Glory to suffer with the best of Men and Kings; ’tis true, he’s a Rover of Fortune, yet a Prince aboard his little wooden World.
Ped.What’s this to the maintenance of a Woman or her Birth and Quality?
Will.Faith, Sir, I can boast of nothing but a Sword which does me Right where-e’er I come, and has defended a worse Cause than a Woman’s: and since I lov’d her before I either knew her Birth or Name, I must pursue my Resolution, and marry her.
Ped.And is all your holy Intent of becoming a Nun debauch’d into a Desire of Man?
Hell.Why—I have consider’d the matter, Brother, and find the Three hundred thousand Crowns my Uncle left me (and you cannot keep from me) will be better laid out in Love than in Religion, and turn to as good an Account—let most Voices carry it, for Heaven or the Captain?
All cry,a Captain, a Captain.
Hell.Look ye, Sir,’tis a clear Case.
Ped.Oh I am mad—if I refuse, my Life’s in Danger—[Aside.]—Come—There’s one motive induces me—take her—I shall now be free from the fear of her Honour; guard it you now, if you can, I have been a Slave to’t long enough.[Gives her to him.
Will.Faith, Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a Woman’s Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it.
Hell.Well said, Captain.
Ped.This was your Plot, Mistress, but I hope you have married one that will revenge my Quarrel to you—[ToValeria.
Val.There’s no altering Destiny, Sir.
Ped.Sooner than a Woman’s Will, therefore I forgive you all—and wish you may get my Father’s Pardon as easily; which I fear.
EnterBluntdrest in aSpanishHabit, looking very ridiculously; his Man adjusting his Band.
Man.’Tis very well, Sir.
Blunt.Well, Sir, ’dsheartlikins I tell you ’tis damnable ill, Sir—a Spanish Habit, good Lord! cou’d the Devil and my Taylor devise no other Punishment for me, but the Mode of a Nation I abominate?
Belv.What’s the matter,Ned?
Blunt.Pray view me round, and judge—[Turns round.
Belv.I must confess thou art a kind of an odd Figure.
Blunt.In a Spanish Habit with a Vengeance! I had rather be in the Inquisition for Judaism, than in this Doublet and Breeches; a Pillory were an easy Collar to this, three Handfuls high; and these Shoes too are worse than the Stocks, with the Sole an Inch shorter than my Foot: In fine, Gentlemen, methinks I look altogether like a Bag of Bays stuff’d full of Fools Flesh.
Belv.Methinks ’tis well, and makes thee looken Cavalier:Come, Sir, settle your Face, and salute our Friends, Lady—
Blunt.Hah! Say’st thou so, my little Rover?[ToHell.]Lady—(if you be one) give me leave to kiss your Hand, and tell you, adsheartlikins, for all I look so, I am your humble Servant—A Pox of mySpanishHabit.
Will.Hark—what’s this?[Musick is heard to Play.
EnterBoy.
Boy.Sir, as the Custom is, the gay People in Masquerade, who make every Man’s House their own, are coming up.
Enter several Men and Women in masquing Habits, with Musick, they put themselves in order and dance.
Blunt.Adsheartlikins, wou’d ’twere lawful to pull off their false Faces, that I might see if my Doxy were not amongst ’em.
Belv.Ladies and Gentlemen, since you are come soa propos, you must take a small Collation with us.[To the Masquers.
Will.Whilst we’ll to the Good Man within, who stays to give us a Cast of his Office.[ToHell.—Have you no trembling at the near approach?
Hell.No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.
Will.Egad, thou’rt a brave Girl, and I admire thy Love and Courage.
Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread,Who venture in the Storms o’th’ Marriage-Bed.[Exeunt.
Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread,
Who venture in the Storms o’th’ Marriage-Bed.[Exeunt.
The banisht Cavaliers! a Roving Blade!A popish Carnival! a Masquerade!The Devil’s in’t if this will please the Nation,In these our blessed Times of Reformation,When Conventicling is so much in Fashion.And yet—That mutinous Tribe less Factions do beget,Than your continual differing in Wit;Your Judgment’s (as your Passions) a Disease:Nor Muse nor Miss your Appetite can please;You’re grown as nice as queasy Consciences,Whose each Convulsion, when the Spirit moves,Damns every thing that Maggot disapproves.With canting Rule you wou’d the Stage refine,And to dull Method all our Sense confine.With th’ Insolence of Common-wealths you rule,Where each gay Fop, and politick brave Fool,On Monarch Wit impose without controul.As for the last who seldom sees a Play,Unless it be the old Black-Fryers way,Shaking his empty Noddle o’erBamboo,He crys—Good Faith, these Plays will never do.—Ah, Sir, in my young days, what lofty Wit,What high-strain’d Scenes of Fighting there were writ:These are slight airy Toys. But tell me, pray,What has theHouse of Commonsdone to day?Then shews his Politicks, to let you seeOf State Affairs he’ll judge as notably,As he can do of Wit and Poetry.The younger Sparks, who hither do resort,Cry—Pox o’ your gentle things, give us more Sport;—Damn me, I’m sure ’twill never please the Court.Such Fops are never pleas’d, unless the PlayBe stuff’d with Fools, as brisk and dull as they:Such might the Half-Crown spare, and in a GlassAt home behold a more accomplisht Ass,Where they may set their Cravats, Wigs and Faces,And practice all their Buffoonry Grimaces;See how this—Huff becomes—this Dammy—flare—Which they at home may act, because they dare,But—must with prudent Caution do elsewhere.Oh that ourNokes, orTony Leecould showA Fop but half so much to th’ Life as you.
The banisht Cavaliers! a Roving Blade!
A popish Carnival! a Masquerade!
The Devil’s in’t if this will please the Nation,
In these our blessed Times of Reformation,
When Conventicling is so much in Fashion.
And yet—
That mutinous Tribe less Factions do beget,
Than your continual differing in Wit;
Your Judgment’s (as your Passions) a Disease:
Nor Muse nor Miss your Appetite can please;
You’re grown as nice as queasy Consciences,
Whose each Convulsion, when the Spirit moves,
Damns every thing that Maggot disapproves.
With canting Rule you wou’d the Stage refine,
And to dull Method all our Sense confine.
With th’ Insolence of Common-wealths you rule,
Where each gay Fop, and politick brave Fool,
On Monarch Wit impose without controul.
As for the last who seldom sees a Play,
Unless it be the old Black-Fryers way,
Shaking his empty Noddle o’erBamboo,
He crys—Good Faith, these Plays will never do.
—Ah, Sir, in my young days, what lofty Wit,
What high-strain’d Scenes of Fighting there were writ:
These are slight airy Toys. But tell me, pray,
What has theHouse of Commonsdone to day?
Then shews his Politicks, to let you see
Of State Affairs he’ll judge as notably,
As he can do of Wit and Poetry.
The younger Sparks, who hither do resort,
Cry—
Pox o’ your gentle things, give us more Sport;
—Damn me, I’m sure ’twill never please the Court.
Such Fops are never pleas’d, unless the Play
Be stuff’d with Fools, as brisk and dull as they:
Such might the Half-Crown spare, and in a Glass
At home behold a more accomplisht Ass,
Where they may set their Cravats, Wigs and Faces,
And practice all their Buffoonry Grimaces;
See how this—Huff becomes—this Dammy—flare—
Which they at home may act, because they dare,
But—must with prudent Caution do elsewhere.
Oh that ourNokes, orTony Leecould show
A Fop but half so much to th’ Life as you.
THIS Play had been sooner in Print, but for a Report about the Town (made by some either very Malitious or very Ignorant) that ’twasThomasoaltered; which made the Book-sellers fear some trouble from the Proprietor of that Admirable Play, which indeed has Wit enough to stock a Poet, and is not to be piec’t or mended by any but the Excellent Author himself; That I have stol’n some hints from it may be a proof, that I valu’d it more than to pretend to alter it: had I had the Dexterity of some Poets who are not more expert in stealing than in the Art of Concealing, and who even that way out-do theSpartan-Boys I might have appropriated all to myself, but I, vainly proud of my Judgment hang out the Sign ofAngelica(the only Stol’n Object) to give Notice where a great part of the Wit dwelt; though if thePlay of theNovellawere as well worth remembring asThomaso, they might (bating the Name) have as well said, I took it from thence: I will only say the Plot and Bus’ness (not to boast on’t) is my own: as for the Words and Characters, I leave the Reader to judge and compare ’em withThomaso, to whom I recommend the great Entertainment of reading it, tho’ had this succeeded ill, I shou’d have had no need of imploring that Justice from the Critics, who are naturally so kind to any that pretend to usurp their Dominion, they wou’d doubtless have given me the whole Honour on’t. Therefore I will only say inEnglishwhatthe famousVirgildoes in Latin:I make Verses and others have the Fame.