Rove. The same.

Wor. Alas! poor frailty! that once fair pleasureboat begins to lower her sails, wears out in her hulk, and sinks both in her price and her credit; besides, the new reformation wind blows so high, that every weather-beaten vessel cann't live in't.

Rove. Now, for that very reason, a sudden cha ritable design is got into this fruitful noddle, of putting off this very creature to Mizen for a wife, a just) punishment upon him for his barbarous designs upon thy Dorcas.

Wor. Nay, but, thanks to Heaven, we have discovered the villany, and I'll instantly to my Dorcas, and give her that due caution, as shall blow up his whole conspiracy; and therefore mix a little mercy with thy justice.

Rove. No; I'll not carry on the jest so cruelly as to undo the poor dog neither; a little mortify him, but not ruin him.

Wor. I'll instantly then to my dear Dorcas, and make her our confident in the business: about an hour hence I'll meet you at Daniel's, where we'll take a sneaker of Amy's punch; and afterwards spend our evening with the women: I'll send Dorcas to see Belinda, and there shall be the rendezvous.

[Exeunt.

Enter DORCAS ZEAL and ARABELLA.

Ara. Why, sister, do you ever think to secure

D

Rose

grac

Worthy to yourself, with that senseless religion of yours; he'll certainly laugh at your formal hood.

Dor. Why look thee, Arabella, my religion and dress may seem strange unto thee, because thou art of the church belonging to the wicked; but I tell unto thee, Worthy loveth me so much, that I have hopes of drawing him to be one of the pure ones. 'Tis true, thou art a facetious yoùng creature, and the education my aunt hath given thee, maketh thy thoughts run much upon the vanity of this world; and I suppose the fortune my father left thee will be thrown into the arms of one of the lewd pillars of thy steeple-house.

Ara. Look'ee, I'll have no reflections upon establishments. Liberty of conscience gives you no title to rail. I find you are resolved to persist in your whining faith; 'tis one stubborn article of your cant: but I am well assured Worthy will force you to church; if he don't, I'll part with my maidenhead without a husband.

Dor. And that thou art wild enough to do; but I pray thee, none of this vain raillery before Worthy, f thou hast any expectation of my living in sisterly Ove and charity with thee.

ose.

Ara. Oh, you should have snuffled that thro' the In short, I'll always tease you; you that have ense and beauty, thus to deform those heavenly aces, it makes me mad. If all the kind bewitching rs, the tender looks, and compassionate words that

C

woman can invent, will draw Worthy's love from you, I'll use them, and triumph in the conquest.

Dor. Poor vain creature! thou art handsome it's true; but thou hast not the virtues of the mind to ensnare him with. But see, he comes; forbear thy follies, I say, forbear.

Enter WORTHY.

Wor. [Embraces.] This is a reward for all my labours; the fatigues of an hundred voyages are forgot whilst I am in these arms.

Dor. Be not vain, flatter not; 'tis base, 'tis mean, 'tis irreligious.

Wor. Dear charmer, I am all ecstasy.

Ara. So much of it, that, methinks you have forgot your friends, good captain.

Wor. Pardon me, madam, [Salutes her.] some of my ecstasies are due to you; for the love I have to this lady makes me admire all her relations.

Ara. Ay, wheedle her out of what she has: get her money, then use her like a wife, turn her out of doors, and compound with her for a maintenance.

Dor. Sister, to shew thee that I think it is impossible for thee to debauch the principles of my friend Worthy, I now commit myself into his hands.

Wor. Which blessing I receive with all the joy imaginable this is a reward indeed for all my ser

vices.

Dor. Take to thyself my hand, and thus I plight it with my faith. Now, sister, your threatening

words are vain, for all your looks and sighs can never take him from me.

Ara. Ha, ha, ha! you see, Worthy, I have done the work for you, reconciled even contradiction itself, made the flesh and the spirit unite, and joined an unsanctified brother of the wicked to a sanctified sister of the godly ones.

Dor. Fie, sister, do not triumph in my weakness. Ara. Thy weakness! no, thy shame; with all thy boasted sanctity, to own before my face a carnal inclination Nay, and to put thy hand to pen and paper to court him to thy arms! Out on thee! I am ashamed of thee.

Dor. Nay, now thou art scurrilous! I cannot bear this, thou raisest all the blood into my cheeks. Stay thou, dear Worthy, and rebuke her for it, whilst I retire awhile to recover my confusion, and then I'll see thee again. [Exit Dor.

Wor. Fe, Arabella; could you have the heart to treat that innocent thing so roughly? Nay, by Heavens, I'm amazed! I cannot guess the meaning of all this.

Ara. Fie, stupid Worthy, cann't you apprehend the reason why I study to make a breach betwixt my sister and yourself?

Wor. 'Tis all a mystery to me!

Ara.. Spare a virgin's blushes, and let your apprehensions tell you what my trembling tongue is Both to utter.

Wor. Fine heroics, truly! I'm too well acquainted

with your manner of bantering, to take notice of any thing you say; yet it would divert me, had not my charming Quaker's last dear words wrapt up my soul to a diviner contemplation.

Ara. Must I then say I love, and be refused? Consider, my fortune's equal to my sister's; my face and my religion too, I think, may vie with hers.

Wor. Your words are spoke with a sound of truth; and were I not engaged by ten thousand oaths, I should have manlike vanity enough to think what you say real.

Ara. The inequality of the match between you soon absolves you from such empty vows: I own I long have loved; and, before your last voyage, intended to discover it to you, but you unexpectedly sailed. I never believed you had a real passion for my sister, her religion and her principles being so averse to

yours.

Wor. Madam, I know my own unworthiness too well to believe you are in earnest; but were it so, my honour tells me I must not be so base as to wrong your sister. The resolution she has made will soon be void, when I tell her your romantic story, which though I don't believe, I'll strive to make her do it. Pardon my absence, dear madam, for I'm impatient until I undeceive her.

[Exit.

Ara. And is my youth, my beauty, and my fortune thus despised! By Heavens, I hate him now, and am resolved to muster up all the spirit of my sex to meditate revenge. The plots of plays, and the de