Scar. So, I have got rid of my Rival, and shall here get an Opportunity to speak with Mopsophil; for hither she must come anon, to lay the young Lady’s Night-things in order; I’ll hide my self in some Corner till she come. [Goes on to the further side of the Stage.

Enter Harlequin groping.

Har. So, I made my Rival believe I was gone, and hid my self till I got this Opportunity to steal to Mopsophil’s Apartment, which must be hereabouts; for from these Windows she us’d to entertain my Love. [Advances.

Scar. Ha, I hear a soft Tread,—if it were Mopsophil’s, she wou’d not come by dark.

[Harlequin advancing runs against a Table, and almost strikes himself backwards.

Har. What was that?—a Table, there I may obscure my self. [Groping for the Table. What a Devil, is it vanish’d?

Scar. Devil,—vanish’d! What can this mean? ‘Tis a Man’s Voice.—If it should be my Master the Doctor now, I were a dead Man;—he can’t see me; and I’ll put my self into such a Posture, that if he feel me, he shall as soon take me for a Church Spout as a Man.

[He puts himself into a Posture ridiculous, his Arms a-kimbo, his Knees wide open, his Backside almost touching the Ground, his Mouth stretched wide, and Eyes staring. Har. groping thrusts his Hand into his Mouth, he bites him, the other dares not cry out.

Har. Ha, what’s this? all Mouth, with twenty rows of Teeth.—Now dare not I cry out, lest the Doctor shou’d come, find me here, and kill me—I’ll try if it be mortal.

[Making damnable Faces and signs of Pain, he draws a Dagger. Scar. feels the Point of it, and shrinks back, letting go his Hand.

Scar. Who the Devil can this be? I felt a Poniard, and am glad I sav’d my Skin from pinking. [Steals out.

[Harlequin groping about, finds the Table, on which there is a Carpet, and creeps under it, listening.

Enter Bellemante, with a Candle in one Hand, and a Book in the other.

Bell. I am in a Belle Humor for Poetry to-night; I’ll make some Boremes on Love. [She writes and studies. Out of a great Curiosity,—A Shepherd did demand of me.— No, no,—A Shepherd this implor’d of me. [Scratches out, and writes a-new. Ay, ay, so it shall go.—Tell me, said he, can you resign?— Resign, ay, what shall rhyme to Resign?—Tell me, said he.— [She lays down the Tablets, and walks about.

[Harlequin peeps from under the Table, takes the Book, writes in it, and lays it up before she can turn.

[Reads.] Ay, ay, so it shall be,—Tell me, said he, my Bellemante; Will you be kind to your Charmante? [Reads those two lines, and is amaz’d. Ha, Heav’ns! What’s this? I am amaz’d! —And yet I’ll venture once more. [Writes and studies. —I blushed and veil’d my wishing Eyes. [Lays down the Book, and walks as before. —Wishing Eyes! [Har. writes as before. [She turns and takes the Tablet. —And answer’d only with my Sighs. Ha! What is this? Witchcraft, or some Divinity of Love? Some Cupid sure invisible. Once more I’ll try the Charm. [Writes. —Cou’d I a better way my Love impart? [Studies and walks. —Impart— [He writes as before. —And without speaking, tell him all my Heart. —’Tis here again, but where’s the Hand that writ it? [Looks about. —The little Deity that will be seen But only in his Miracles. It cannot be a Devil, For here’s no Sin nor Mischief in all this.

Enter Charmante. She hides the Tablet, he steps to her, and snatches it from her and reads.

Char. reads.

Out of a great Curiosity, A Shepherd this implor’d of me. Tell me, said he, my Bellemante, Will you be kind to your Charmante? I blush’d, and veil’d my wishing Eyes, And answer’d only with my Sighs. Cou’d I a better way my Love impart? And without speaking, tell him all my Heart.

Char. Whose is this different Character? [Looks angry.

Bell. ‘Tis yours for ought I know.

Char. Away, my Name was put here for a blind. What Rhiming Fop have you been clubbing Wit withal?

Bell. Ah! mon Dieu!—Charmante jealous?

Char. Have I not cause?—Who writ these Boremes?

Bell. Some kind assisting Deity, for ought I know.

Char. Some kind assisting Coxcomb, that I know. The Ink’s yet wet, the Spark is near I find.—

Bell. Ah, Malheureuse! How was I mistaken in this Man?

Char. Mistaken! What, did you take me for an easy Fool to be impos’d upon?—One that wou’d be cuckolded by every feather’d Fool; that you’d call a Beau un Gallant Homme. ‘Sdeath! Who wou’d doat upon a fond She-Fop?—a vain conceited amorous Coquette. [Goes out, she pulls him back.

Enter Scaramouch running.

Sea. Oh Madam! hide your Lover, or we are all undone.

Char. I will not hide, till I know the thing that made the Verses. [The Doctor calling as on the Stairs.

Doct. Bellemante, Niece,—Bellemante.

Scar. She’s coming, Sir.—Where, where shall I hide him? —Oh, the Closet’s open! [Thrusts him into the Closet by force.

Enter Doctor.

Doct. Oh Niece! Ill Luck, Ill Luck, I must leave you to night; my Brother the Advocate is sick, and has sent for me; ‘tis three long Leagues, and dark as ‘tis, I must go.—They say he is dying. Here, take my Keys, [Pulls out his Keys, one falls down. and go into my Study, and look over all my Papers, and bring me all those mark’d with a Cross and figure of Three, they concern my Brother and I.

[She looks on Scaramouch, and makes pitiful Signs, and goes out.

—Come, Scaramouch, and get me ready for my Journey; and on your Life, let not a Door be open’d till my Return.

[Exeunt.

Enter Mopsophil. Har. peeps from under the Table.

Har. Ha! Mopsophil, and alone!

Mop. Well, ‘tis a delicious thing to be rich; what a world of Lovers it invites: I have one for every Hand, and the Favorite for my Lips.

Har. Ay, him wou’d I be glad to know. [Peeping.

Mop. But of all my Lovers, I am for the Farmer’s Son, because he keeps a Calash—and I’ll swear a Coach is the most agreeable thing about a Man.

Har. Ho, ho!

Mop. Ah, me,—What’s that?

[He answers in a shrill Voice.

Har. The Ghost of a poor Lover, dwindled into a Heyho.

[He rises from under the Table, and falls at her Feet. Scaramouch enters. She runs off squeaking.

Scar. Ha, My Rival and my Mistress!—Is this done like a Man of Honour, Monsieur Harlequin, to take advantages to injure me? [Draws.

Har. Advantages are lawful in Love and War.

Scar. ‘Twas contrary to our League and Covenant; therefore I defy thee as a Traytor.

Har. I scorn to fight with thee, because I once call’d thee Brother.

Scar. Then thou art a Poltroon, that’s to say, a Coward.

Har. Coward! nay, then I am provok’d, come on.

Scar. Pardon me, Sir, I gave the Coward, and you ought to strike.

[They go to fight ridiculously, and ever as Scaramouch passes, Harlequin leaps aside, and skips so nimbly about, he cannot touch him for his Life; which after a while endeavouring in vain, he lays down his Sword.

—If you be for dancing, Sir, I have my Weapons for all occasions.

[Scar. pulls out a Flute Doux, and falls to playing. Har. throws down his, and falls a dancing; after the Dance, they shake hands.

Har. Ha mon bon ami.—Is not this better than duelling?

Scar. But not altogether so heroick, Sir. Well, for the future, let us have fair play; no Tricks to undermine each other, but which of us is chosen to be the happy Man, the other shall be content.

Ela. [Within.] Cousin Bellemante, Cousin.

Scar. ‘Slife, let’s be gone, lest we be seen in the Ladies Apartment.

[Scar. slips Harlequin behind the Door.

Enter Elaria.

Ela. How now, how came you here?—

Scar. [Signs to Har. to go out.] I came to tell you, Madam, my Master’s just taking Mule to go his Journey to Night, and that Don Cinthio is in the Street, for a lucky moment to enter in.

Ela. But what if any one by my Father’s Order, or he himself should by some chance surprize us?

Scar. If we be, I have taken order against a Discovery. I’ll go see if the old Gentleman be gone, and return with your Lover. [Goes out.

Ela. I tremble, but know not whether ‘tis with Fear or Joy.

Enter Cinthio.

Cin. My dear Elaria— [Runs to imbrace her, She starts from him. —Ha,—shun my Arms, Elaria!

Ela. Heavens! Why did you come so soon?

Cin. Is it too soon, whene’er ‘tis safe, Elaria?

Ela. I die with Fear—Met you not Scaramouch? He went to bid you wait a while; what shall I do?

Cin. Why this Concern? none of the House has seen me. I saw your Father taking Horse.

Ela. Sure you mistake, methinks I hear his Voice.

Doct. [Below.]—My Key—The Key of my Laboratory. Why, Knave Scaramouch, where are you?

Ela. Do you hear that, Sir?—Oh, I’m undone! Where shall I hide you?—He approaches. [She searches where to hide him. Ha! my Cousin’s Closet’s open,—step in a little. [He goes in, she puts out the Candle.

Enter the Doctor. She gets round the Chamber to the Door, and as he advances in, she steals out.

Doct. Here I must have dropt it; a Light, a Light there.

Enter Cinthio, from the Closet, pulls Charmante out, they not knowing each other.

Cin. Oh, this perfidious Woman! No marvel she was so surpriz’d and angry at my Approach to Night.

Cha. Who can this be?—but I’ll be prepar’d. [Lays his Hand on his Sword.

Doct. Why, Scaramouch, Knave, a Light! [Turns to the Door to call.

Enter Scaramouch with a Light, and seeing the two Lovers there, runs against his Master, puts out the Candle, and flings him down and falls over him. At the entrance of the Candle, Charmante slipt from Cinthio into the Closet. Cinthio gropes to find him; when Mopsophil and Elaria, hearing a great Noise, enter with a Light. Cinthio _finding he was discovered falls to acting a Mad-man, _Scaramouch helps up the Doctor, and bows.

Ha,—a Man,—and in my House,—Oh dire Misfortune! —Who are you, Sir?

Cin. Men call me Gog Magog, the Spirit of Power; My Right-hand Riches holds, my Left-hand Honour. Is there a City Wife wou’d be a Lady?—Bring her to me, Her easy Cuckold shall be dubb’d a Knight.

Ela. Oh Heavens! a Mad-man, Sir.

Cin. Is there a tawdry Fop wou’d have a Title? A rich Mechanick that wou’d be an Alderman? Bring ‘em to me, And I’ll convert that Coxcomb, and that Blockhead, into Your Honour and Right-Worshipful.

Doct. Mad, stark mad! Why, Sirrah, Rogue—Scaramouch —How got this Mad-man in?

[While the Doctor turns to Scaramouch, Cinthio speaks softly to Elaria.

Cin. Oh, thou perfidious Maid! Who hast thou hid in yonder conscious Closet? [Aside to her.

Scar. Why, Sir, he was brought in a Chair for your Advice; but how he rambled from the Parlour to this Chamber, I know not.

Cin. Upon a winged Horse, ycleped Pegasus, Swift as the fiery Racers of the Sun,—I fly—I fly—See how I mount, and cut the liquid Sky. [Runs out.

Doct. Alas, poor Gentleman, he’s past all Cure.—But, Sirrah, for the future, take you care that no young mad Patients be brought into my House.

Scar. I shall, Sir,—and see,—here’s your Key you look’d for.

Doct. That’s well; I must be gone—Bar up the Doors, and upon Life or Death let no man enter. [Exit Doctor, and all with him, with the Light.

Charmante peeps out—and by degrees comes all out, listning every step.

Char. Who the Devil cou’d that be that pull’d me from the Closet? but at last I’m free, and the Doctor’s gone; I’ll to Cinthio, and bring him to pass this Night with our Mistresses. [Exit.

As he is gone off, enter Cinthio groping.

Cin. Now for this lucky Rival, if his Stars will make this last part of his Adventure such. I hid my self in the next Chamber, till I heard the Doctor go, only to return to be reveng’d. [He gropes his way into the Closet, with his Sword drawn.

Enter Elaria with a Light.

Ela. Scaramouch tells me Charmante is conceal’d in the Closet, whom Cinthio surely has mistaken for some Lover of mine, and is jealous; but I’ll send Charmante after him, to make my peace and undeceive him. [Goes to the Door. —Sir, Sir, where are you? they are all gone, you may adventure out. [Cinthio comes out. Ha,—Cinthio here?

Cin. Yes, Madam, to your shame: Now your Perfidiousness is plain, false Woman, ’.is well your Lover had the dexterity of escaping, I’ad spoil’d his making Love else. [Goes from her, she holds him.

Ela. Prithee hear me.

Cin. But since my Ignorance of his Person saves his Life, live and possess him, till I can discover him. [Goes out.

Ela. Go, peevish Fool— Whose Jealousy believes me given to change, Let thy own Torments be my just Revenge.

[Exit.

The End of the First Act.