Lady D. There are some insults, Sir Benjamin, that no man of spirit ought to put up with-and the imputation of being made a wittol of, is the most unpardonable of any.

Sir Benj. Right, my dear, even truth, you know, is not to be spoke at all times.

Lady D. How, sir, would you insinuate any thing to the disparagement of my fidelity?-But chuse your side, quarrel you must either with him or with

me.

Sir Benj. Oh, if that is the alternative, what a deal of time have we wasted!-Step with me into the library, and I'll pen him a challenge immediately.

[Exeunt.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.

The Cabin, with a View of the Sea, as before.

Enter PHILIP, and LUCY WAters.

Philip. How I have loved you, Lucy, and what I have suffered on your account, you know well enough --and you shou'dn't now, when I am struggling to forget you, come to put me in mind of past afflictions -go, go, leave me-I pray you, leave me.

Lucy. Nay, Philip, but hear me.

Philip. Hear you, ungrateful girl! you know it has been all my delight to hear you, to see you, and to sit by your side-for hours I have done it-for whole

days together. But those days are past! I must labour now for my livelihood; and, if you rob me of my time, you wrong me of my subsistence.

Lucy. O, Philip! I am undone if you don't pro

tect me!

Philip. Ah, Lucy! that, I fear, is past preven

tion.

Lucy. No, Philip, no, I am innocent, and therefore persecuted by the most criminal of men.

I have disclosed all Mr. Belfield's artifices to Miss Sophia, and now am terrified to death-I saw him follow me out of the Park, as I was coming hither, and I dare not return home alone; indeed, Philip, I dare not.

Philip. Well, Lucy, step in with me, and fear nothing I see the 'squire is coming.-He, who can refuse his protection to a woman, may he never taste the blessings a woman can bestow! [Exeunt.

Enter BELFIELD SENIOR.

Belf. Ay, 'tis she!-confusion follow her!- How perversely has she traversed my projects with Sophia! By all that's resolute, I'll be revenged!-My brother too returned- -Vexatious circumstance! there am I foiled again.-Since first I stepped out of the path of honour, what have I obtained?-O treachery! treachery! if thou canst not in this world make us happy, better have remained that dull, formal thingan honest man, and trusted to what the future might produce.

Enter PHILIP.

So, fellow, who are you?

Philip. A man, sir-an honest man.
Belf. A saucy one, methinks.

Philip. The injurious are apt to think so-however, I ask pardon-as your riches make you too proud, my honesty, perhaps, makes me too bold.

Belf. O, I know you now! you are son to that old fellow I thought proper to discharge from my farmPlease to betake yourself from the door of your cabin, there's a young woman within, I must have a word with.

Philip. If 'tis Lucy Waters you would speak with

Belf. If, rascal! it is Lucy Waters, that I would speak with that I will speak with—and, spite of your insolence, compell to answer whatever I please to ask, and go with me wherever I please to carry her.

Philip. Then, sir, I must tell you, poor as I am, she is under my protection.-You see, sir, I am armed -you have no right to force an entrance here; and, while I have life, you never shall.

me.

Belf. Then be it at your peril, villain, if you oppose

[They fight.

Enter PATERSON, who beats down their Swords. Paterson. For shame, Mr. Belfield! what are you about-Tilting with this peasant?

Belf. Paterson, stand off.

Paterson. Come, come, put up your sword.

Belf. Damnation, sir! what do you mean? Do you turn against me? Give way, or, by my soul, I'll ran you through!

Enter CAPTAIN IRONSIDES and SKIFF.

Ironsides. Heyday, what the devil ails you all!— I thought the whole ship's company had sprung a mutiny. Master and I were taking a nap together, for good fellowship; and you made such a damned clattering and clashing, there's no sleeping in peace for you.

Belf. Come, Mr. Paterson, will you please to bear me company, or stay with your new acquaintance? Ironsides. Oh, ho, my righteous nephew! is it you that are kicking up this riot? Why, you ungracious

profligate, would you murder an honest lad at the door of his own house?-his castle-his castellum— Are these your fresh-water tricks?

Belf. Your language, Captain Ironsides, savours strongly of your profession; and I hold both you, your occupation, and opinion, equally vulgar and contemptible.

Ironsides. My profession! Why, what have you to say to my profession, you unsanctified whelp, you? I hope 'tis an honest vocation to fight the enemies of one's country-you, it seems, are for murdering the friends: I trust, it is not for such a skip-jack, as thee art, to fleer at my profession.-Master, didst ever hear the like?

Skiff. Never, Captain, never-for my own part, I am one of few words, but, for my own part, I always thought, that to be a brave seaman, like your honour, was the greatest title an Englishman can wear. Ironsides. Why, so it is, Skiff-ahem!

you.

Belf. Well, sir,I leave you to the enjoyment of your honours; so, your servant.-Sirrah, I shall find a time for [BELFIELD is going out. Ironsides. Harkye, sir, come back-one more word with you. Belf. Well, sir

Ironsides. Your father was an honest gentleman: your mother, though I say it, that should not say it, was an angel; my eyes ache when I speak of her-ar'n't you ashamed, sirrah, to disgrace such parents?-My nephew, Bob, your brother, is an honest lad, and as brave, as ever stepped between stem and stern-a' has a few faults, indeed, as who is free? But you, Andrew, you are as false as a quick-sand, and as full of mischief as a fireship.

Paterson. Come, Mr. Belfield, for Heaven's sake, let us go home. [Exit, with BELfield. Ironsides. Harkye, Philip, I forgot to ask you what all this stir was about.

Philip. Sir, if you please to walk in, I will inform

you.

Ironsides. With all my heart-A pragmatical, impertinent coxcomb!-Come, Master, we'll fill a pipe, and hear the lad's story within doors.-I never yet. was ashamed of my profession, and I'll take care my profession shall have no reason to be ashamed of me. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Garden.

Enter BELFIELD JUNIOR, and SOPHIA.

Belf. jun. Madam! madam! will you vouchsafe to give me a hearing?

Sophia. Unless you could recall an act, no earthly power can cancel, all attempt at explanation is vain. Belf. jun. Yet, before we part for ever, obstinate, inexorable Sophia, tell me what is my offence.

Sophia. Answer yourself that question, Mr. Belfield -consult your own heart, consult your Violetta.

Belf. jun. Now, on my life, she's meanly jealous of Violetta-that grateful woman has been warm in her commendations of me, and her distempered fancy turns that candour into criminality.

Sophia. Hah! he seems confounded !-guilty beyond all doubt.

Belf. jun. By Heaven, I'll no longer be the dupe to these bad humours !-Lucy Waters, Violetta, every woman she sees or hears, alarms her jealousy, overthrows my hopes, and rouses every passion into fury. -Well, madam, at length I see what you allude to; I shall follow your advice, and consult my Violetta;