Sir Anth. Hang your respect and duty! But, come along with me. I'll write a note to Mrs. Malaprop, and you shall visit the lady directly. Her eyes shall be the Promethean torch to you-come along,—I'll never forgive you, if you don't come back stark mad with rapture and impatience-if you don't, egad, I'll marry the girl myself. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. JULIA's Dressing-Room.

Enter FAULKLAND.

Faulk. They told me Julia would return directly: I wonder she is not yet come!-How mean does this captious, unsatisfied temper of mine appear to my cooler judgment! What tender, honest joy sparkled in her eyes when we met! How delicate was the warmth of her expressions!-I was ashamed to appear less happy, though I had come resolved to wear a face of coolness and upbraiding. Sir Anthony's presence prevented my proposed expostulations; yet I must be satisfied that she has not been so very happy in my absence. She is coming-yes, I know the nimbleness of her tread, when she thinks her impatient Faulkland counts the moments of her stay.

Enter JULIA.

Jul. I had not hoped to see you again so soon.

Faulk. Could I, Julia, be contented with my first welcome, restrained as we were, by the presence of a third person?

Jul. Oh, Faulkland! when your kindness can make me thus happy, let me not think that I have discovered something of coolness in your first salutation.

Faulk. 'Twas but your fancy, Julia. I was rejoiced to see you to see you in such health: sure I had no cause for such coldness?

Jul. Nay then I see you have taken something ill: you must not conceal from me what it is.

Faulk. Well, then, shall I own to you, that my joy at hearing of your health and arrival here, by your

neighbour Acres, was somewhat damped, by his dwelling much on the high spirits you had enjoyed in Devonshire: on your mirth-your singing-dancingand I know not what: for such is my temper, Julia, that I should regard every mirthful moment, in your absence, as a treason to constancy. The mutual tear, that steals down the cheek of parting lovers, is a compact, that no smile shall live there till they meet again.

Jul. Must I never cease to tax my Faulkland with this teasing, minute caprice? Can the idle reports of a silly boor weigh in your breast like my tried affection?

Faulk. They have no weight with me, Julia! no, no, I am happy, if you have been so-yet only say that you did not sing with mirth-say that you thought of Faulkland in the dance.

If I

Jul. I never can be happy in your absence. wear a countenance of content, it is to shew that my mind holds no doubt of my Faulkland's truth. Believe me, Faulkland, I mean not to upbraid you, when I say, that I have often dressed sorrow in smiles, lest my friends should guess whose unkindness had caused my tears.

Faulk. You were ever all goodness to me! Oh, I am a brute, when I admit of a doubt of your true constancy!

Jul. If ever without such cause from you, as I will not suppose possible, you find my affections veering but a point, may I become a proverbial scoff for levity and base ingratitude!

Faulk. Ah, Julia! that last word is grating to me! I would I had no title to your gratitude! Search your heart, Julia: perhaps what you have mistaken for love, is but a warm effusion of a too thankful heart!

Jul. For what quality must I love you?

Faulk. For no quality: to regard me for any quality of mind or understanding, were only to esteem me: And for person-I have often wished myself deformed, to be convinced that I owed no obligation there for any part of your affection.

Jul. Where nature has bestowed a show of nice attention in the features of a man, he should laugh at it as misplaced. I have seen men, who in this vain article, perhaps, might rank above you; but my heart has never asked my eyes if it were so or not.

Faulk. Now, this is not well from you, Julia: I despise person in a man, yet, if you love me asl wish, though I were an Æthiop, you'd think none so fair. 、

Jul. I see you are determined to be unkind-The contract, which my poor father bound us in, gives you more than a lover's privilege.

Faulk. Again, Julia, you raise ideas that feed and justify my doubts. How shall I be sure, had you remained unbound in thought or promise, that I should still have been the object of your persevering love?

Jul. Then try me now-Let us be free as strangers as to what is past: my heart will not feel more liberty. Faulk. There, now! so hasty, Julia! so anxious to be free! if your love for me were fixed and ardent, you would not loose your hold, even though I wished it! Jul. Oh, you torture me to the heart! I cannot bear it!

Faulk. I do not mean to distress you: if I loved you less, I should never give you an uneasy moment. I would not boast, yet let me say, that I have neither age, person, nor character, to found dislike on; my fortune such, as few ladies could be charged with indiscretion in the match. O, Julia! when love receives such countenance from prudence, nice minds will be suspicious of its birth.

Jul. I know not whither your insinuations would tend; but as they seem pressing to insult me, I will spare you the regret of having done so I have given no cause for this! [Exit crying.

Faulk. In tears!-stay, Julia-stay, but for a moment-The door is fastened! Julia! my soul! but for one moment!-I hear her sobbing! 'Sdeath! what a brute am I to use her thus!-yet stay-Ay, she is coming now: how little resolution there is in woman! how a few soft words can turn them! [Sits down and

sings.] No, Z-ds! she's not coming, nor don't intend it, I suppose! this is not steadiness, but obstinacy! yet I deserve it.-What, after so long an absence, to quarrel with her tenderness! 'twas barbarous and unmanly!-I should be ashamed to see her now. I'll wait till her just resentment is abated, and when I distress her so again, may I lose her for ever, [Exit.

SCENE III. Mrs. Malaprop's Lodgings. Enter MRS. MALAPROP, with a Letter in her hand, CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE following.

Mrs. M. Your being Sir Anthony's son, Captain, would itself be a sufficient accommodation; but from the ingenuity of your appearance, I am convinced you deserve the character here given of you.

Capt. A. Permit me to say, madam, that as I have never yet had the pleasure of seeing Miss Languish, my principal inducement in this affair, at present, is the honour of being allied to Mrs. Malaprop, of whose intellectual accomplishments, elegant manners, and unaffected learning, no tongue is silent.

Mrs. M. Sir, you do me infinite honour! I beg, Captain, you'll be seated.-[Both sit]—Ah! few gentlemen, now-a-days, know how to value the ineffectual qualities in a woman! few think how a little knowledge becomes a gentlewoman! Men have no sense, now, but for the worthless flower of beauty.

Capt. A. It is but too true, indeed'ma'am; I fear our ladies should share the blame; they think our admiration of beauty so great, that knowledge, in them, would be superfluous. Thus, like garden trees, they seldom shew fruit, till time has robbed them of the more specious blossoms: few, like Mrs. Malaprop, and the orange-tree, are rich in both at once.

Mrs. M. Sir, you overpower me with good-breeding -He is the very pine-apple of politeness! You are not ignorant, Captain, that this giddy girl has, somehow, contrived to fix her affections on a beggarly,

strolling, eves-dropping ensign, whom none of us have seen, and nobody knows any thing of.

Capt. A. Oh, I have heard the silly affair before. I'm not at all prejudiced against her on that account. But it must be very distressing, indeed, to you,

ma'am.

Mrs. M. Oh, it gives me the hydrostatics to such a degree! I thought she had persisted from corresponding with him; but behold, this very day, I have interceded another letter from the fellow-I believe I have it in my pocket.

Capt. A. O, the devil! my last note!
Mrs. M. Ay, here it is.

[Aside.

Capt. A. Ay, my note, indeed! O, the little trai tress, Lucy!

[Aside. Mrs. M. There, perhaps you may know the writing. [Gives him the letter. Capt. A. I think I have seen the hand before-yes, I certainly must have seen this hand before.

Mrs. M. Nay, but read it, Captain.

Capt. A. [Reads.] 'My soul's idol, my adored Lydia! Very tender, indeed!

Mrs. M. Tender! ay, and profane too, o'my conscience!

Capt. A. 'I am excessively alarmed at the intelligence you send me, the more so as my new rival'Mrs. M. That's you, sir.

Capt. A. 'Has universally the character of being an accomplished gentleman, and a man of honour.' Well, that's handsome enough.

Mrs. M. Oh, the fellow has some design in writing so.

Capt. A. That he had, I'll answer for him, ma'am. Mrs. M. But go on, sir-you'll see presently.

Capt. A. As for the old weather-beaten she-dragon, who guards you'-Who can he mean by that?

Mrs. M. Me, sir-me-he means me there-what do you think now ?-but go on a little further.

Čapt. A. Impudent scoundrel!-'it shall go hard but I will elude her vigilance; as I am told that the