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plies at the Blue Posts, one who knows Sir Harry , ball--for I'll be a mighty beau. Then, as I said, and his haunts very well; you may send a note go to some ball, or some bear-baiting—'tis all by him.

one, you know- then, comes a tine Italian Stand. Here, you, friend!

[Calling. bona roba, and plucks me by the sleeve : Signior l'iz. I have now some business, and must take angie, Signior Angle-She's a very fine lady, obmy leave ; I would advise you, nevertheless, serve that -- Signior Angle, says she ignora, against this affair.

says I, and trips after her to the corner of a Stand. No whispering now, nor telling of street, suppose it Russel-street, here, or any other friends, to prevent us.

He that disappoints a street; then, you know, I must invite her to the man of an honourable revenge, may love him fool- tavern; I can do no less- --There up comes ishly like a wife, but never value him as a friend. her bravo; the Italian grows saucy, and I give l'iz. Nay, the devil take him that parts you,

inim an English dowse o' the face : I can box, {È.cit. sir, box tightly; I was a 'prentice, sir-But,

then, sir, he whips out his stilev, and I whips Enter Porter, running.

out my buil-dog-slaps him through, trips down Err. Did your honour call porter?

stairs, turus the corner of Russel-street again, Stand. Is your name Tom Errand ?

and whips me into the auubassador's train, and Err. People call me so, an't like your worship. there I'm safe as a beau beluind the scenes. Stand. D'ye know sir Harry Wildair?

Hitd. Is your pistol charged, sir ! Err. Ay, very well, sir; he's one of my best Clm. sen. Only a brace of bullets, that's all, masters; many a round halt-crown have I had of his worship; he's vewly come home from

Wild. 'Tis a very fine pistol, truly; pray, let
France, sir,

me see it.
Stund. Go to the next cofiee-house, and wait Cun, sen. With all my heart, sir.
for me.

-Oh, woman, woman, how blessed is Mud. Ilark'e, Mr Jubilee, can you digest a man when favoured by your smiles, and how

brace of buliets?
accursed when all those smiles are found but Clin. sen, Oh, by no means in the world, sir.
wanton baits to sooth us to destruction !

Il vid. I'll try the strength of your stomach,
Thus, our chief joys with buse allays are cursed, however. Sir, you're a dead man.
And our best things, when once corrupted, worst.

[Presenting the pistot to his breust, [Errunt.

Clin. sen. Consider, dear sir, I am going to Enter Wilpair, and Clincuen senior following dead man at your service.

the Jubilee : when I come home agam, I am a Clin. sen. Sir, sir, sir! having some business Wild. Oh, very well, sir; but take heed you of importance to cominunicate to you, I would are not choleric for the future. beg your attention to a iritling affair that I would Chn. sen. Choleric, sir! Uons, I design to impart to your understanding.

shoot seven Italians in a week, sir, Wild. What is your tritling business of impor

Ilird. Sir, you won't have provocation. tance, pray, sweet sir?

Clin. sen. Provocation, sir? Zauns, sir, I'll kill Clin. sen. Pray, sir, are the roads deep be- any man for treading upon my corns; and there tween this and Paris ?

will be a devilish throng of people there; they Wild. Why that question, sir?

say that all the princes of Italy will be there. Clin. sen. Berause I design to go to the Ilid. And all the tops and tiddlers in EuJubilee, sir; I understand that you ve a traveller, rope.

-But the use of your swimming-girdle,
sir; there is an air of travel in the tie op
your cravat, sir; there is indeed, sirul sup- Clin. sen. Oh, lord, sir, that's easy. Suppose
pose, sir, you bought this face in Flanders? the ship's cast away; now, whilst other foolish

Bild. No, sir, this lace was made in Norway, people are busy at their prayers, I wip on my
Clin, sen. Norway, sir?

swimming-utrdie, clap a monthi's provision Wild. Yes, sir, of the shavings of deal-boards. my pochet, and sails me away, like an egg in a Clin. sen. That's very strange now, faith

duck's belly--- And harhee, sir, I bave a new proLace made of the shavings of deal boards ! 'Eyad, ject in my head : where d'ye link my swimmingsir, you travellers see very strange things abroad, girdle shall carry me upon this occasion? 'Tis a very incredible things abroad, indeed. Well, I'll new project: have a cravat of the very same lace before I Wild. Where, sir? come home.

Clin. sen. To Civita Vecchia, faith and troth, Wild. But, sir, what preparations have you and so save the charges of my passage. Well, made for your journey?

sir, you must pardon me now; I'm going to sce Clin. sen. A case of por ket-pistols for the bra- my mistress.

Erit, voes, and a swimming-girdle.

lled. This fellow's an accomplished ass before Wild. Why these, sir?

he goes abroad. Well, this Angelica has got into Clin. sen. Oh, lord, sir, I'll tell you ---Sup- ny leart, and I can't get her out of my head.pose us in Rome, now; away goes I to some I inust pay her t’other visit.

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SCENE II.-LADY DARLING's house. this seal my pardon; (Kisses her hand.] and this

(Aguin.] initiate me to farther happiness. Enter ANGELICA,

Ang. Hold, sir--one question, sir Harry, and Ang. Unhappy state of woman! whose chief pray, answer plainly—D'ye love me? virtue is but ceremony, and our much boasted Wild. Love you! Does fire ascend? Do hymodesty but a slavish restraint. The strict con- pocrites dissemble? Usurers love gold, or great finement on our words makes our thoughts ram- men flattery? Doubt these, then question that I ble more; and what preserves our outward love. fame, destroys our inward quiet. 'Tis hard that Ang. This shews your gallantry, sir, but not love should be denied the privilege of hatred; your love. that scandal and detraction should be so much Wild. View your own charms, madam, then indulged, yet sacred love and truth debarred our judge my passion; your beauty ravishes my eye, conversation.

your voice my ear, and your touch has thrilled Enter DARLING, Clincher junior, and Dicky.

my melting soul.

Ang. If your words be real, 'tis in your power Lady Dar. This is my daughter, cousin. to raise an equal fame in me. Dick. Now, sir, remember your

three

scrapes. Wild. Nay, then, I seize.ca Clin. jun. (saluting ANGELICA.] One, two, Ang. Hold, sir ! 'tis also possible to make me three, your humble servant. Was not that right, detest and scorn you worse than the most protiiDicky?

gate of your deceiving sex. Dick. Aye 'faith, sir; but why don't you Wild. Ha! A very odd turn this ! I hope, speak to her?

madam, you only affect anger, because you know Clin. jun. I beg your pardon, Dicky; I know your frowns are becoming. my distance. Would you have me speak to a dng. Sir Harry, you being the best judge of lady at the first sight?

your own designs, can best understand whether Dick. Aye, sir, by all means; the first aim is my anger should be real or dissembled ; think the surest.

what strict modesty should bear, then judge of Clin. jun. Now, for a good jest, to make her my resentment. laugh heartily-By Jupiter Ammon, I'll go Wild. Strict modesty should bear! Why, faith, give her a kiss.

[Goes towards her. madam, I believe, the strictest modesty may bear Enter WILDAIR, interposing.

fifty guineas, and I don't believe 'twill bear one

farthing more. Wild. 'Tis all to no purpose; I told you so Ang. What d’ye mean, sir? before; your pitiful five guineas will never do.- Wild. Nay, madam, what do you mean, if You may go; I'll outbid you.

you go to that? I think, now, fifty guineas is a fine Clin. jun. What, the devil! the madman's here offer for your strict modesty, as you call it. again.

Ang. "I'is more charitable, sir Harry, to charge Lady Dar. Bless me, cousin, what d'ye mean? the impertinence of a man of your figure on his Affront a gentleman of his quality in my house? defect in understanding, than on his want of

Clin. jun. Quality Why, madam, I don't manners—I am afraid you're mad, sir. know what you mean by your madmen, and your Wild. Why, madam, you're enough to make beaux, and your quality--they're all alike, I be- any man mad. 'Sdeath, are you not alieve.

Ang. What, sir? Ludy Dar. Pray, sir, walk with me into the Wild. Why, a lady of-strict modesty, if you

will have it so. (Exit Lady Darling, leading CLINCHER.- Ang. I shall never hereafter trust common reDicky following.)

port, which represented you, sir, a man of honour, Ang. Sir, if your conversation be no more a- wit, and breeding; for I find you very deficient greeable than 'twas the last time, I would advise in them all three.

Erit ANGELICA. you to make yonr visit as short as you can.

Wild. Now I find that the strict pretenWild. The offences of my last visit, madam, ces which the ladies of pleasure make to strict bore their punishment in the commission; and modesty, is the reason why those of quality are have made me as uneasy till I receive pardon, asy ashamed to wear it. your ladyship can be till I sue for it. Ang. Sir Harry, I did not well understand the

Enter VIZARD. offence, and must therefore proportion it the Viz. Ah, sir Harry! have I caught you? greatness of your apology; if you would, therc- Well, and what success? fore, have me think it light, take no great pains

Wild. Success ! 'Tis a shame for you young in an excuse.

fellows in town here to let the wenches grow so Wild. How sweet must the lips be that guard saucy. I offered her fifty guineas, and she was that tongue ! Then, madam, no more of past of- in hicr airs presently, and flew away in a huff. fences; let us prepare for joys to come. Let I could have had a brace of countesses in Paris

next room.

in my

I call you.

for half the money, and je vous remercie into the ney; I'll Ay; I'll swim ;-I wish to the Lord bargain.

I were at the Jubilee now! Viz. Gone in her airs, say you ! And did not Lure. Can't you think of any thing, sir? you follow her?

Clin. sen. Think! not I; I never could think Wild. Whither should I follow her?

to any purpose

life. Viz. Into her bed-chamber, man; she went on Lure. What do you want, sir ? purpose. You a man of gallantry, and not understand that a lady's best pleased when she

Enter Tom ERRAND. puts on her airs, as you call it !

Err. Madam, I am looking for sir Harry Wild. She talked to me of strict modesty, and Wildair ; I saw him come in here this morning; stuff.

and did imagine he might be here still, if he is Viz. Certainly. Most women magnify their not gone. modesty, for the same reason that cowards boast Lure. A lucky hit! Here, friend, change their courage—because they have least on't.- clothes with this gentleman; quickly, strip. Come, come, sir Harry, when you make your Clin. sen. Ay, ay, quickly, strip; I'll give you next assault, encourage your spirits with brisk half a crown to boot. Come here; şo. Burgundy: if you succeed, 'tis well; if not, you

[They change clothes. have a fair excuse for your rudeness. I'll go in, Lure. Now, slip you [Ìv Clin. sen.) down and make your peace for what's past. Oh, I had stairs, and wait at the door till my husband be almost forgot-Colonel Standard wants to speak gone; and get you in there [To the Porter.] till with you about some business.

[Puts Errand in the next room. Wild. I'll wait upon him presently; d’ye know where he may be found ?

Enter StayDARD. Viz. In the piazza of Covent-Garden, about an Oh, sir, are you come? I wonder, sir, how you hour hence, I promised to see him; and there have the confidence to approach me after su base you may meet him to have your throat cut. a trick? [Aside. r'll go in and intercede for you.

Stand. Oh, madam, all your artifices won't avail. Wild. But no foul play with the lady, Vizard. Lure. Nay, sir, your artifices won't avail. I

[Erit. thought, sir, that I gave you caution enough aViz. No fair play, I can assure you. [Exit. gainst troubling me with sir Harry Wildair's com

pany, when I sent his letters back by you? yet SCENE III.-The Street before LUREWELL'S you, forsooth, must tell him where I lodged, and Lodgings.

expose me again to bis impertinent courtship!

Stand. I expose you to his courtship! CLINCHER senior, and LUREWELL, coquetting Lure. I'll lay my life you'll deny it now. Come,

in the balcony. Enter STANDARD. come, sir; a pitiful lie is as scandalous to a red Stand. How weak is reason in disputes of love! coat, as an oath to a black. Did not sir Harry That daring reason, which so oft pretends to himself teil me, that he found out, by you, where question works of high omnipotence, yet poorly I lodged? truckles to our weakest passions, and yields im- Stand. You're all ligs; first, your heart is . plicit faith to foolish love, paying blind zeal to false ; your eyes are double; one look belies faithless women's eyes. I've heard her falsehood another; and then, your tongue does contradict with such pressing proofs, that I no longer should them all-Madam, I see a little devil just now distrust it. Yet still my love would baffle de hammering out a lie in your pericranium. monstration, and make impossibilities seem pro- Lure. As I hope for mercy, he's in the right bable. [Looks up.] Ha! That fool, too! What, Jon't. (Aside.] Ilold, sir, you have got the playstoop so low as that animal ?--'Tis true, women house cant upon your tongue, and think, that wit once fallen, like cowards in despair, will stick at inay privilege your railing : but, I must tell you, nothing; there's no medium in their actions. sir, that what is satire upon the stage, is ill manThey must be bright as angels, or black as fiends. pers here.

Stand. What is feigned upon

the But now for my revenge; I'll kick her cully be

stage, is here, fore her face, call her whore, curse the whole in reality, real falsehood. Yes, yes, madam–I sex, and leave her.

[Goes in. exposed you to the courtship of your fool Clin

cher, too; I hope your female wiles will impose that

-alsoLUREWELL comes down with CLINCHER senior. The Scene changes to a Dining-Room.

Lure. Clincher! Nay, now, you're stark mad.

I know no such person. Lure. Oh, lord, sir, it is my husband! What Stand. Oh, woman in perfection! not know will become of yon?

him? 'Slife, madam, can my eyes, my piercing Clin. sen. Ah, your husband! Oh, I shall be jealous eyes, be so deluded Nay, madam, my murdered! What shall I do? Where shall I run? nose could not mistake him; for I sinelt the fop I'll creep into an oven; I'll climb up the chim- by his pulvilio from the balcony down to the street. Vol. II.

9T

upon me

man.

Lure. The balcony! Ila, ha, ha! the balco- Clin. sen. Oh, lord, what shall I say now? ny! I'll be hanged but he has mistaken sir Harry Seen him? Yes, sir-No, sir. I have, sir-I Wildair's footman with a new French livery for have not, sir. a beau !

Stund. The fellow's mad! Answer me directStand. 'Sdeatlı, madam, what is there in me ly, sirrah, or I'll break your head. that looks like a cully? Did not I see him? Clin, sen. I know sir Harry very well, sir; but,

Lure. No, no, you could not see him; you're as to the note, sir, I can't remember a word dreaming, colonel. Will you believe your eyes, on't: is, I have a very bad memory. now that I have rubbed them open ?-Here, you Stand. Oh, sir, I'll quicken your memory. friend.

[Strikes him.

Clin. sen. Zauns, sir, hold !-I did give him Enter ERRAND in Clincher senior's clothes.

the note. Stand. This is illusion all; my eyes conspire Stand. And what answer? against themselves. 'Tis legerdemain !

Clin. sen. I mean, I did not give him the note. Lure. Legerdemain ! Is that all your acknow- Stund. What, d'ye banter, rascal ? ledgment for your rude behaviour: -Oh, what a

[Strikes him again. curse is it to love as I do ! But don't presume Clin. sen. Hold, sir, hold! He did send an too far, sir, on my affection : for such ungenerous answer. usage will soon return my tired heart.- Begone, Stand. What was't, villain? sir, [To the Porter.] to your impertinent master, Clin. sen. Why, truly, sir, I have forgot it: I and tell him I shall never be at leisure to receive told you that I had a very treacherous memory. any of his troublesome visits. Send to me to Stand. I'll engage you shall remember me this know when I should be at home!-- Begone, sir ! month, rascal. [Beats him off"; and erit. I am sure he has made me an unfortunate wo

Enter LUREWELL and Party.

[Weeps. Stund. Nay, then, there is no certainty in na- Lure. Fort-bon, fort-bon, fort-bon! This is ture; and truth is only falsehood well disguised. better than I expected; but fortune still helps

Lure. Sir, had not I owned my fond, foolish the industrious. passion, I should not have been subject to such unjust suspicions: but it is an ungrateful return.

Enter Clincher senior.

(Weeping: Clin. sen. Ah! the devil take all intriguing, Stand. Now, where are all my firm resolves ? say I, and him who first invented canes-That I will believe her just. My passion raised my cursed colonel has got such a knack of beating jealousy; then, why may’nt love be as blind in his men, that he has left the mark of a collar of finding faults, as in excusing them ?-I hope, ma- bandiliers about my shoulders. dam, you'll pardon me, since jealousy, that mag- Lure. Oh, my poor gentleman! and was it nified my suspicion, is as much the effect of love, beaten? as my easiness in being satisfied.

Clin. sen. Yes, I have been beaten. But where's Lure. Easiness in being satisfied! You men

my clothes?

my

clothes ? have got an insolent way of extorting pardon, by Lure. What, you won't leave me so soon, my persisting in your faults. No, no, sir; cherish dear, will ye? your suspicions, and feed upon your jealousy: Clin. sen. Will

ye !--If ever I peep into a co’tis fit meat for your squeamish stomach. lonel's tent again, may I be forced to run the

With me all women should this rule pursue : gauntlet! But my clothes, madam.
Who think us false, should never find us true. Lure. I sent the porter down stairs with them :

[Erit in a rage. did not you meet him?

Clin. sen. Meet him! No; not I. Enter Clincher senior in the porter's clothes.

Par. No !-He went out at the back-door, and Clin. sen. Well, intriguing is the prettiest, plea- is run clear away, I'm afraid. santest thing for a man of my parts. How shall Clin. sen. Gone, say you, and with my clothes, we laugh at the husband when he is gone ?- How my fine Jubilee clothes ? --Oh, the rogue, the sillily he looks! He's in labour of horns already. thief !-I'll have him hanged for murder- -But To make a colonel a cuckold ! 'Twill be rare how shall I get home in this pickle? news for the alderman,

[ Apart. Par. I'm afraid, sir, the colonel will be back Stand. All this sir Harry has occasioned; but presently, for be dines at home. he's brave, and will afford me a just revenge. Clin. sen. Oh, then, I must sneak off. Oh, this is the porter I sent the challenge by- Was ever such an unfortunate beau, Well, sir, have you found him?

To have his back well thrashed, and lost his coat Clin. sen. What the devil does he mean now?

also?

[Erit CLINCHER sen. Siand. Have you given sir Harry the note, fellow? Lure. Thus, the noble poet spoke truth: Clin. sen. The note! What note?

Nothing suits worse with vice than want of sense: Stand. The letter, blockhead, which I sent by Fools are still wicked at their own expence. you to sir Harry Wildair. Have you seen him: Par. Methinks, madam, the injuries you have suffered by men must be very great, to raise such Par. Ah! next night, madam-next night heavy resentments against the whole sex. (I'm afraid) was a night, indeed.

Lure. The greatest injury that woman could Lure. He bribed my maid, with his gold, out sustain: they robbed me of that jewel, which, of her honesty; and me, with his rhetoric, out of preserved, exalts our sex almost to angels : but, my honour-She adınitted him into iny chamber, destroyed, debases us below the worst of brutes, and there he vowed, and swore, and wept, an i mankind.

sighed—and conquered.

Weep. Par. But, I think, madam, your anger should Par. A-lack-a-day, poor fifteen! [Weep.. be only confined to the author of your wrongs.

Lure. He swore that he would come down Lure. The author ! Alas, I know him not, from Oxford in a fortnight, and marry me. which makes my wrongs the greater."

Par. The old bait, the old bait-I was cheatPar. Not know him? 'T'is odd, madam, that a ed just so myself. [Aside.] But had not you the man should rob you of that same jewel you men- wit to know his name all this while? tioned, and you not know him.

Lure. Alas! what wit had innocence like Lure. Leave trifling : 'tis a subject that al- mine? Ile told me, that he was under an obligaways sours my temper : but since, by thy faithful tion to his companions of concealing himself theil, service, I have some reason to contide in your but that he would write to me in two days, and secrecy, hear the strange relation.—Some twelve let me know his name and quality. After all the years ago, I lived at my father's house in Oxford-binding oaths of constancy, joining bands, exshire, blest with innocence, the ornamental, but changing hearts, I gave him a ring with this weak guard of blooming beauty: I was then just motto : Love and honour :—then we parted, and fifteen, an age fatal to the female sex. Our youth I never saw the dear deceiver more. is tempting, our innocence credulous, romances Par. No, nor never will, I warrant you. moving, love powerful, and men are-villains. Lure. I need not tell my griefs, which my Then it happened, that three young gentlemen father's death made a fair pretence for; he left from the university, coining into the country, and me sole heiress and executris to three tnousand being benighted, and strangers, called at my fa- pounds a-year : at last, my love for this single ther's : he was very glad of their company, and dissembler turned to a hatred of the whole

sex; offered them the entertainment of his house. and, to direct iny melancholy, and make my large

Par. Which they accepted, no doubt: Oh, fortune subservient to my pleasure and revenge, these strolling collegians are never abroad, but I went to travel, where, in most courts of Europe, upon some mischief.

I have done some execution. Here I will play Lure. They had some private frolic or design my last scene : then retire to my country-house, in their heads, as appeared by their not naming live solitary, and die a penitent. one another, which my father perceiving, out of Par. But don't you still love this fair dissemcivility made no inquiry into their affairs; two bler? of them had a heavy, pedantic, university air; a Lure. Most certainly. 'Tis love of him that sort of disagreeable scholastic boorishness in their keeps my anger warm, representing the baseness behaviour; but the third

of mankind full in view ; and makes my resentPar. Ah, the third, madam—the third of all ments work-We shall have that old impertinent things, they say, is very critical.

letcher, Smuggler, here to-night; I have a plot to Lure. He was—but in short, nature cut bim swinge him, and his precise nephew, Vizard. out for my undoing; he seemed to be about Par. I think, madam, you manage every body eighteen.

that comes in your way. Par. A fit match for your fifteen as could be. Lure. No, Parly; those men, whose preten

Lure. He had a genteel sweetness in his face, sions I found just and honourable, I fairly disa graceful comeliness in his person, and his missed, by letting them know my firm resolutions tongue was fit to sooth soft innocence into ruin. never to marry. But those villains that would His

very looks were witty, and his expressive attempt my honour, I've seldom failed to maeyes spoke softer, prettier things, than words nage. could frame.

Par. What d'ye think of the colonel, madam? Par. There will be mischief by and by; I never I suppose his designs are honourable. heard a woman talk so much of eyes, but there Lure. That man's a riddle; there's something were tears presently after.

of honour in his temper that pleases; I'm sure Lure. His discourse was directed to my father, he loves me, too, because he's soon jealous, and but his looks to me. After supper, I went to my

soon satisfied. But he's a map still, When I chamber, and read Cassandra, then went to bed, once tried his pulse about marriage, his blood and dreamed of him all night, rose in the morn- ran as low as a coward's. He swore, indeed, that ing, and made verses, so fell desperately in love. he loved me, but could not marry me, forsooth, My father was so well pleased with their conver- because he was engaged elsewhere. So poor a sation, that he begged their company next day; pretence inade ine disdain his passion, which they consented, and next night, Parly

otherwise might have been uneasy to me.-But

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