University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE, A flat Piece of Ground without Hedge or Style: The Prospect of a Church in View, and Tom's Coffee-House at distance.
Enter Prunella and Fico; Prunella a little melancholly, Fico pretty hearty.
Prunella.
This well-known Place,
This spacious, spacious Square,
Where Fruiterers do sell their Ware;
Is where we Girls do use to meet,
When our House was in Russel-street.

Fico.
Rascino, your angry Father, now at rest,
Of Grocers is accounted best.
The dear Production of his Love is you,
The Joy you give him much too young to know.

Prun.
And my poor Mother,

Fico.
Fair as is the Morning peep,
The Hour she gave you to the World
She fell asleep.

Prunella
Air.
I was born in London Town,
Yet must saunter up and down:
I was born of Grocers Race,
Yet must wander in Disgrace.
All the Fruit that Christmas yields,
Raisons, Pruens, Dates and Figs.

Prun.
But to be turn'd out of Doors,
Like one that Charity implores,
Ah, too unjust! Ah, too uncivil!

Fico.
Uncivil! Why, Madam, 'tis the Devil.

Prun.
Ah, gentle Fico!

Fico.
Poor Prunella.
Tho' you're not Quality, or so, Sir;
Your Father was a wealthy Grocer:
Your Mother did adorn his Counter,
And had much Money to her Joynture.

Prun.
Nay, more than that, of Temper mild;
She is my Mother, I her Child.

Fico.
But now it is a proper Season,
Of all this Rout, to know the Reason?

Prun.
Fico, 'tis Love.

Fico.
Is Love the Cause?
Sweet Meat must have sour Sauce.
But who's the Man wou'd make you Bride?

Prun.
A Mercer's Prentice in Cheapside.

Fico.
On, Child, go on, and tell me all;
How came this last, this cruel Brawl?

Prun.
Coming one Fatal Night from Fox-hall;

Fico.
From whence?

Prun.
Fox-hall.

Fico.
Air. ARSINOE; Ferry-Boat, Charon.

Baily's Officer.
Take him, take him.

Prun.
Hark, Fico, what's that Noise?

Bail. Officer.
See, see, he's loose again;
The Prig, how swift he bounds,

Fico.
They are the Sheriffs Hounds.

Bail. Officer.
'Twill be in vain if he's quite out of view,
In Bow-street they'll make a Rescue.

Fico.
They're Bailiffs, that live near this place,
And have some Debtor now in chace.

Satinisco.
Bail me, O Bail me!

Prun.
Fico, remember what I told ye:

Fico.
Fear not, my Dear, I'll ne'er unfold ye.

Prun.
That now Cecilia is my Name:

Fico.
I know it, tho' 'tis all a Sham.

Prun.
Remember, Fico, as my my Friend;

Fico.
I have it at my Fingers end,
And know what to reply,
You are my Sister, your Brother I.

Bailiffs
Air.
See, Sir, I'm come to take you,
And must a Prisoner make you;
For such fine Sparks as you
Must pay poor folks their Due.
You much drink that French is,
Be treating of your Wenches
With Jellies and cool Tankards,
And such like costly Cheer.
Come, nimbly lay down Darby;
Come, pray Sir, don't be tardy:
For Marshalsea's the place,
Where you shall end your Race.

Satinisco.
Bail me, O Bail me!

Fico.
'Tis what will happen daily,
A Man is Rested by a Baily.

Prun.
O, bring him here.

Satinisco.
O dear, who takes my part?

Prun.
My Handkerchief, and my Heart.

[The Bailiffs let fall their Swords, and run off staring at them.
Fico.
Your Beauty so the Rogues have charm'd,
With Pointed Eyes they are disarm'd.

Satinisco
Air.
O Maid, that art so fine,
To thee I do incline;
A prettier Lass was never seen,
'Twixt Dover and the Rhine.
Such Dazling fills my Sight,
Like Flambeaux in the Night;
That Bonfires on a Holy-day
Were never half so bright.

Prun.
Ah, Fico, by all above,
This is the very Man I love.

Fico.
Sir, you appear a Man of Fame,
May I intreat to know your Name?

Sat.
Satinisco.

Prun.
Ah, let me die; Ah, cruel Father.

Fico.
Die, ye fond Fool! be marry'd rather;
He may be yours another Day,
Then hear at least what He can say.

Satinisco
Air.
Since you from Jayle have sav'd me,
I'll stay with you alone:
That Freedom you now gave me,
That Freedom's now your own;
Yes, yes, that Freedom's now your own.

Fico
Air. CAMILLA; All I'll venture to restore you.
Sir, behold me here to Bail ye,
Tho' 'tis for a Thousand Pound,
I will Bail ye:
Tho' 'tis for a Thousand Pound,
If they wo'n't let me be bound,
Then a better shall be found;
Before you shall be overthrown,
We will pay the Money down.

Fico.
Look up, my Girl, since Things are better,
Our Porter, Jo, has brought a Letter:
How is it, Jo?

Porter.
Thank ye, Fico; where is your Mistress?

Fico.
Tace, I can't a Word afford,
Hold your Tongue, Mum, Mum's the Word.

[A Letter directed to the Fair Prunella.]
Prun.

Madam,

After a tédious Absence of a Night,
Your Father was appeas'd,
And so your Mother vow'd
To give you to your Wishes.

Mally, your Friend.

Prun.
Air. CAMILLA. Fortune ever known to vary.