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with a huge long naked weapon in both his hands, and look'd so dreadfully. Sure he's beside himself.

Mavis. Why, what made you there, Mrs. Otter?

Mrs. Otter. Alas, Mrs. Mavis, I was chastising my subject, and thought nothing of him.

Daw. Faith, mistress, you must do so too, Learn to chastise. Mistress Otter corrects her husband so, he dares not speak, but under correction.

La-F. And with his hat off to her: 'Twould do you good to fee.

Hau. In sadness, 'tis good and mature counsel; practise it, Morose. I'll call you Morose still now, as I call Centaure and Mavis; we four will be all



Gen. And you'll come to the college, and live with us?

Hau. Make him give milk and honey.

Mavis. Look how you manage him at first, you Thall have him ever after.

Cen. Let him allow you your coach and four horses, your woman, your chamber-maid, your page, your gentleman-usher, your French cook, and four grooms.

Hau. And go with us to Bedlam, to the Chinahoufes, and to the Exchange. Cen. It will open the gate to your fame.


Hau. Here's Centaure has immortaliz'd herself, with taming of her wild male.

Mavis. Ay, she has done the miracle of the kingdom.

Re-enter Morofe. Mor. [entering.] They have rent my roof, walls, and all my windows afunder, with their brazen throats. Mrs. Otter. Ah !

[Shrieking. Mor. I will have none of these discords in my house, lady Otter.

Hau. What ails you, Sir ?

Mor. And the rest of the train too. Mrs. Mary Ambree, your examples are dangerous. Begone, I say !

Epi. Fy, master Morose, that you will ufe this violence to a gentlewoman! Mor. How!

[Dropping his sword. Epi. It does not become your gravity or breeding (in court, as you pretend) to have offer'd this outrage on a waterman, or any more boisterous creature, much less a lady.

Mor. You can speak then?
Epi. Yes, Sir.
Mor. Speak out, I mean?
Epi. To be sure, Sir: Why, did you think you


had married a statue? or a motion only? one of the French puppets, with the eyes turn’d with a wire ? or some innocent out of the hospital, that would stand with her hands thus—and a plaise. mouth, and look upon you.

Mor. Oh, immodesty! a manifest woman! a downright virago! What, Cutberd! Where's Cutberd?

Epi. Nay, never quarrel with Cutberd, Sir; it is too late now. I confefs it doth bate somewhat of the modesty I had, when I wrote simply maid ; but I hope to make it a stock still competent to the estate and dignity of your

wife. Mor. She can talk !

Epi. Yes, indeed, Sir. Did you ever know a woman that could not ?

Mor. What, firrah! none of my knaves there? Where is this impostor, Cutberd?

Enter Servant. (Makes signs.) Epi. Speak to him, fellow; speak to him. I'll have none of this forc'd unnatural dumbness in my house, in a family where I govern.

Mor. Govern! She is my regent already! I have married a Penthesilea, a Semiramis; fold my liberty to a diftaff. But I'll be master still-I'll void my



house of this company, and bar up my doors, Where are all my eaters, my mouths now?

Enter Servants. Void my house, and bar up my doors, you varlets !

Epi. He is a varlet that stirs to fuch an office. Let 'em stand open ! Shall I have a barricado made against my friends, or be robbed of any pleasure they can give me by their honourable visitation?

Mor. Oh, Amazonian impudence !

Epi. Nay, in troth, in this, Sir, I speak but modestly, and am more reasonable than you. Are not these our nuptials ? and is it not meet to give the day to pleasures, Sir? We'll have jollities of feasting, musick, dancing, revels and discourse: We'll have all, Sir, that may make the celebration of our marriage high and happy. In, in, and be jovial, ladies! In; I follow you.

[Exit, with ladies, Daw, and La-Foole.

Manent Morose, Dauphine, and Truewit. Mor. Oh, my cursed angel, that instructed me to this fate !

Dau. Why, Sir?

Mor. That I should be seduc'd by so foolish a devil as a barber will make!


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Dau. I would I had been worthy, Sir, to have partaken your counsel; you should never have trusted it to such a minister.

Mor. 'Would I could redeem it with the loss of an eye, nephew!

Dau. I hope there shall be no such need, Sir. Take patience, good uncle. This is but a day, and 'tis well worn too now.

Mor. Oh, 'twill be so for ever, nephew; I forefee it, for ever.

Strife and tumult are the dowry that comes with a wife.

Tru. I told you fo, Sir, and you would not believe me.

Mor. Alas, do not rub those wounds, master Truewit, to blood again; 'twas my negligence. Add not affliction to affliction. I have perceiv'd the effect of it, too late, in madam Otter.

Re-enter Epiçæene, & c.
My executioner here again ! oh, misery!

Epi. How do you, Sir?

Mor. Did you ever hear a more unnecessary question? As if she did not see! Why, I do as you see, empress, empress !

Epi. They say you are run mad, Sir.
Mor. Not for love, I assure you, of you, do

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