vil, and as often rude, without design, unseasonably thoughtful, easy to a fault, and, in my best of praise, but carelessly good-natured? How shall I reconcile your temper with having made so strange a choice? : Lady Easy. Your own words may answer you -Your having never seemed to be but what you really were; and, through that carelessness of temper, there still shone forth to me an undesigning honesty, I always doubted of in smoother faces thus, while I saw you took least pains to win me, you pleased and wooed me most: nay, I have thought, that such a temper could never be deliberately unkind: or, at the worst, I knew that errors, from the want of thinking, might be borne; at least, when, probably, one moment's serious thought might end them: these were my worst of fears; and these, when weighed by growing love, against my solid hopes, were nothing. Sir Cha. My dear, your understanding startles me, and justly calls my own in question: I blush to think I've worn so bright a jewel in my bosom, and, till this hour, have scarce been curious once to look upon its lustre. Lady Easy. You set too high a value on the common qualities of an easy wife. Sir Cha. Virtues, like benefits, are double, when concealed: and, I confess, I yet suspect you of an higher value far than I have spoke you. Lady Easy. I understand you not. Sir Cha. I'll speak more plainly to you-be free, and tell me-Where did you leave this handkerchief? Lady Easy. Ha! Sir Cha. What is it you start at? You hear the question. Lady Easy. What shall I say? my fears confound me. [Aside. Sir Cha. Be not concerned, my dear; be easy in the truth, and tell me. Lady Easy. I cannot speak-and I could wish you'd not oblige me to it-'tis the only thing I ever yet refused you; and, though I want reason for my will, let me not answer you. Sir Cha. Your will, then, be a reason; and since I see you are so generously tender of reproaching me, it is fit I should be easy in my gratitude, and make, what ought to be my shame, my joy. Let me be therefore pleased to tell you now, your wondrous conduct has waked me to a sense of your disquiet past, and resolution never to disturb it moree-And (not that I offer it as a merit, but yet in bliud compliance to my will) let me beg you would immediately discharge your woman. Lady Easy. Alas! I think not of her-O, my dear, distract me not with this excess of good[Weeping. ness. Sir Cha. Nay, praise me not, lest I reflect how little I have deserved it; I see you are in pain to give me this confusion. Come, I will not shock your softness by my untimely blush for what is past, but rather sooth you to a pleasure at my sense of joy for my recovered happiness to come. Give, then, to my new-born love what name you please; it cannot, shall not, be too kind: O! it cannot be too soft for what my soul swells up with emulation to deserve-Receive me, then, entire at last, and take, what yet no woman ever truly had, my conquered heart! Lady Easy. O, the soft treasure! O, the dear reward of long-deserving love!—Now am I blest indeed, to see you kind without the expence of pain in being so, to make you mine with easiness: thus! thus to have you mine, is something more than happiness; 'tis double life, and madness of abounding joy. But it was a pain intolerable to give you a confusion. Sir Cha. O thou engaging virtue! But I am too slow in doing justice to thy love: I know thy softness will refuse me; but remember, I insist upon it-let thy woman be discharged this minute. Lady Easy. No, my dear; think me not so low in faith, to fear, that, after what you have said, it will ever be in her power to do me future injury. When I can conveniently provide for her, I'll think on it: but to discharge her now, might let her guess at the occasion; and methinks I would have our difference, like our endearments, be equally a secret to our ser vants. Sir Cha. Still my superior every way!—be it as you have better thought--Well, my dear, now I'll confess a thing that was not in your power to accuse me of; to be short, I own this creature is not the only one I have been to blame with. Lady Easy. I know she is not, and was always less concerned to find it so; for constancy in errors might have been fatal to me. Sir Cha. What is it you know, my dear? [Surprised. Lady Easy. Come, I'm not afraid to accuse you now--my lady Graveairs--Your carelessness, my dear, let all the world know it; and it would have been hard indeed, had it been only to me a secret. Sir Cha. My dear, I will ask no more questions, for fear of being more ridiculous; I do confess, I thought my discretion there had been a master-piece-How contemptible must I have looked all this while! Lady Easy. You shan't say so. Sir Cha. Well, to let you see I had some shame, as well as nature in me, I had writ this to my lady Graveairs upon my first discovering that you knew I had wronged you: read it. Lady Easy. [Reads.] Something has happen'ed that prevents the visit I intended you; and I could gladly wish, you never would reproach ( me if I tell you, 'tis utterly inconvenient that I should ever see you more.' This, indeed, was more than I had merited. Enter a Servant. Sir Cha. Who is there? Here-Step with this to lady Graveairs. [Seals the letter, and gives it the servant. Ser. Yes, sir- -Madam, my lady Betty's come. Lady Easy. I'll wait on her. Lady Bet. O! I don't use to be out in things Sir Cha. My dear, I am thinking there may of this nature; I can see well enough: but I be other things my negligence may have wrong-shall be able to tell you more when I have talked ed you in; but be assured as I discover, all shall with my lord. be corrected.Is there any part or circumstance in your fortune that I can change or yet make easier to you? Lady Easy. None, my dear; your good-nature never stinted me in that; and now, methinks, I have less occasion there than ever. Re-enter Servant. Ser. Sir, my lord Morelove's come. -I think I told you of the design we had laid against lady Betty. Lady Easy. You did, and I should be pleased to be myself concerned in it. Sir Cha. I believe we may employ you: I know he waits for me with impatience. But, my dear, won't you think me tasteless to the joy you have given me, to suffer, at this time, any concern but you to employ my thoughts? Lady Easy. Seasons must be obeyed; and since I know your friend's happiness depending, I could not taste my own, should you neglect it. Sir Cha. Thou easy sweetness!-O! what a waste of thy neglected love has my unthinking brain committed! but time, and future thrift of tenderness, shall yet repair it all. The hours will come when this soft gliding stream, that swells my heart, uninterrupted shall renew its -course And, like the ocean after ebb, shall move With constant force of due returning love. [Exeunt. SCENE VII.-Changes to another room. Re-enter LADY EASY and LADY BETTY. Lady Bet. You have been in tears, my dear, and yet you look pleased, too. Lady Easy. You will pardon me, If I cannot let you into circumstances: but be satisfied, sir Charles has made me happy, even to a pain of joy. Lady Bet. Indeed, I am truly glad of it; though I am sorry to find, that any one who has generosity enough to do you justice, should, unprovoked, be so great an enemy to me. Lady Easy. Sir Charles your enemy! Lady Bet. My dear, you will pardon me if I always thought him so, but now I am convinced Lady Easy. Here he comes; and because you shall talk with him-No excuses-for positively I will leave you together. Lady Bet. Indeed, my dear, I desire you will stay, then; for I know you think now, that I have a mind to Lady Easy. To- -to- -ha, ha, ha! Lady Bet. Well! I'll remember this. Enter LORD MORELOVE. [Going. Lord Mor. I hope I don't fright you away, madam? Lady Easy. Not at all, my lord; but I must beg your pardon for a moment; I will wait upon you immediately. [Exit. Lady Bet. My lady Easy gone? Lord Mor. Perhaps, madam, in friendship to you; she thinks I may have deserved the coldness you of late have shewn to me, and was willing to give you this opportunity to convince me you have not done it without just grounds and reason, Lady Bet. How handsomely does he reproach me! but I cannot bear that he should think I know it-[Aside.] My lord, whatever has passed between you and me, I dare swear that could not be her thoughts at this time: for, when two people have appeared professed enemies, she cannot but think one will as little care to give, as the other receive, a justification of their actions. Lord Mor. Passion, indeed, often does repeated injuries on both sides; but I don't remember, in my heat of error, I ever yet professed myself your enemy. Lady Bet. My lord, I shall be very free with you I confess, I do not think, now, I have a greater enemy in the world. Lord Mor. If having loved you to my own disquiet, be injurious, I am contented then to stand the foremost of your enemies. Lady Bet. O! my lord, there's no great fear of your being my enemy that way, I dare say Lord Mor. There is no other way my heart can bear to offend you now; and I foresee in that it will persist to my undoing. Lady Bet. Fy, fy, my lord! we know where your heart is well enough. Lord Mor. My conduct has, indeed, deserved this scorn; and therefore, 'tis but just I should submit to your resentment, and beg (though I am | pain, and, by that time you had stretched and assured in vain) for pardon. [Kneels. gaped him heartily out of patience, of a sudden most importantly remember you had outsat your appointment with my lady Fiddle-faddle, and immediately order your coach to the park? Lady Bet. Yet, sir, have you done? Enter SIR CHARLES. Sir Cha. How, my lord! [LORD MORELOVE rises. Lady Bet. Ha! He here! This was unlucky. [Aside [TO LADY BETTY. Sir Cha. I am sorry to see you can so soon forget yourself: methinks the insults you have borne from that lady, by this time should have warned you into a disgust of her regardless prin Lord Mor. O, pity my confusion! ciples. Lord Mor. Hold, sir Charles, while you and I are friends! I desire you would speak with honour of this lady-'Tis sufficient I have no complaint against her, and Sir Cha. No-though this might serve to shew the nature of your principles: but the noble conquest you have gained at last over defeated sense of reputation, too, has made your fame immortal. Lord Mor. How, sir? Lady Bet. My reputation? Sir Cha. Aye, madam, your reputation-My lord, if I advance a falsehood, then resent it. I say your reputation-It has been your life's whole pride of late to be the common toast of every public table, vain even in the infamous addresses of a married man, my lord Foppington; let that be reconciled with reputation, I will now shake hands with shame, and bow me to the low contempt which you deserve from him; not but I suppose you will yet endeavour Sir Cha. Ha, ha! the old resource. Offers to recover him. Now, you find ill usage in danof any hopes to delude him from his resentment, ger of losing your conquest, 'tis possible you will and then as the Grand Monarque did with Ca-stop at nothing to preserve it. valier and then you are sure to keep your word with him. Lady Bet. My lord, I beg you would resent this thing no farther: an injury like this is better punished with our contempt; apparent malice should only be laughed at. Lady Bet. Sir Charles, to let you know how far I am above your little spleen, my lord, your hand! from this hour Sir Cha. Pshaw! pshaw! all design! all pique! mere artifice and disappointed woman. Lady Bet. Look you, sir, not that I doubt my lord's opinion of me; yet Sir Cha. Look you, madam, in short, your word has been too often taken, to let you make up quarrels, as you used to do, with a soft look, and a fair promise you never intended to keep. Lady Bet. Was ever such insolence! He won't give me leave to speak. Lord Mor. Sir Charles! Lady Bet. No, pray, my lord, have patience; and since his malice seems to grow particular, I dare his worst, and urge him to the proof on't Pray, sir, wherein can you charge me with breach of promise to my lord? Sir Cha. Death! you won't deny it? How often, to piece up a quarrel, have you appointed him to visit you alone; and, though you have promised to see no other company the whole day, when he was come he has found you among the laugh of noisy fops, coquettes, and coxcombs, dissolutely gay, while your full eyes ran over with transport at their flattery, and your own vain power of pleasing? How often, I say, have you been known to throw away, at least, four hours of your good humour upon such wretches, and, the minute they were gone, grew only dull to him, sunk into a distasteful spleen, complained you had talked yourself into the head-ache, and then indulged upon the dear delight of seeing him in Lady Bet. Sir Charles Sir Cha.alks disordered, and he after her. know your vanity is so voracious, it will even wound itself to feed itself; offer him a blank, perhaps, to fill up with hopes of what nature he pleases, and part even with your pride to keep him. Lady Bet. Sir Charles, I have not deserved this of you. [Bursting into tears. Sir Cha. Ah! true woman! drop him a soft dissembling tear, and then his just resentment must be hushed of course. Lord Mor. O Charles! I can bear no more; those tears are so reproaching. Sir Cha. Hist, for your life! [Aside, and then aloud.] My lord, if you believe her, you are undone; the very next sight of my lord Foppington would make her yet forswear all that she can promise. Lady Bet. My lord Foppington! Is that the mighty crime that must condemn me, then? You know I used him but as a tool of my resentment, which you yourself, by a pretended friendship to us both, most artfully provoked me to Lord Mor. Hold, I conjure you, madam; [ want not this conviction. Lady Bet. Send for him this minute, and you and he shall both be witnesses of the contempt and detestation I have for any forward hopes his vanity may have given him, or your malice would insinuate." Sir Cha. Death! you would as soon eat fireas soon part with your luxurious taste of folly, as dare to own the half of this before his face, or any one, that would make you blush to deny it to-Here comes my wife now, we shall see Ha! and my lord Foppington with her-Now! | ment of our reconciliation; for though, in the now, we shall see this mighty proof of your sin- little outward gallantry I received from him, I cerity-Now! my lord, you'll have a warning did not immediately trust him with my design in sure, and henceforth know me for your friend, it, yet I have a better opinion of his understandindeed. ing, than to suppose he could mistake it. Lady Bet. O, my dear, all I told you is true: Sir Charles has shewn himself so inveterately my enemy, that, if I believed I deserved but half his hate, 'twould make me hate myself. Lord Fop. Hark you, Charles; prithee what is this business? Sir Cha. Why, yours, my lord, for aught I know-I have made such a breach betwixt them -I cannot promise much for the courage of a woman; but if hers holds, I am sure it is wide enough; you may enter ten abreast, my lord. Lord Fop. Say'st thou so, Charles? Then, I hold six to four, I am the first man in the town. Lady Easy. Sure there must be some mistake in this I hope he has not made my lord your enemy. Lady Bet. I know not what he has done. Lord More. Far be that thought! Alas! I am too much in fear myself, that what I have this day committed, advised by his mistaken friendship, may have done my love irreparable prejudice. Lady Bet. No, my lord; since I perceive his little arts have not prevailed upon your good-nature to my prejudice, I am bound in gratitude, in duty to myself, and to the confession you have made, my lord, to acknowledge now, I have been to blame, too. Lord More. Ha! is it possible? can you own so much? O my transported heart! Lady Bet. He says I have taken pleasure in seeing you uneasy-I own it but 'twas when that uneasiness I thought proceeded from your love; and if you did love-'twill not be much to pardon it. Lord More. O let my soul, thus bending to your power, adore this soft descending goodness! Lady Bet. And, since the giddy woman's slights I have shewn you too often, have been public, 'tis fit, at last, the amends and reparation should be so therefore, what I offered to Sir Charles, I now repeat before this company, my utter detestation of any past, or future gallantry, that has, or shall be offered by me, to your uneasiness. Lord More. Oh! be less generous, or teach me to deserve it-Now blush, sir Charles, at your injurious accusation. Lord Fop. Ah! Pardi, Voila quelque chose d'extraordinaire ! Lady Bet. As for my lord Foppington, I owe him thanks for having been so friendly an instru Lord Fop. I am struck dumb with the deliberation of her assurance! and do not positively remember, that the nonchalance of my temper ever had so bright an occasion to shew itself before. Lady Bet. My lord, I hope you will pardon the freedom I have taken with you. Lord Fop. Oh, madam, do not be under the confusion of an apology upon my account; for, in cases of this nature, I am never disappointed, but when I find a lady of the same mind two hours together-Madam, I have lost a thou sand fine women in my time; but never had the ill manners to be out of humour with any one for refusing me, since I was born. Lady Bet. My lord, that's a very prudent temper. Lord Fop. Madam, to convince you that I am in an universal peace with mankind, since you own I have so far contributed to your happiness, give me leave to have the honour of completing it, by joining your hand, where you have already offered up your inclination. Lady Bet. My lord, that's a favour I cannot refuse you. Lord More. Generous, indeed, my lord! [LORD FOPPINGTON joins their hands. Lord Fop. And, stap my breath, if ever I was better pleased since my first entrance into human nature! Sir Cha. How now, my lord! what? throw up the cards before you have lost the game? Lord Fop. Look you, Charles, 'tis true, I did design to have played with her alone: but he that will keep well with the ladies, must sometimes be content to make one at a pool with them; and, since I know I must engage her in my turn, I don't see any great odds in letting him take the first game with her. Sir Cha. Wisely considered, my lord! Sir Cha. And now, madam, I'll save you the trouble of a long speech; and, in one word, confess that every thing I have done in regard to you this day, was purely artificial-I saw there was no way to secure you to my lord Morelove, but by alarming your pride with the danger of losing him: and, since the success must have by this time convinced you, that in love nothing is more ridiculous than an over-aeted aversion, I am sure you won't take it ill, if we at last congratulate your good-nature, by heartily laughing at the fright we had put you in ha, ha, ha! Lady Easy. Ha, ha, ha! Lady Bet. Why-Well, I declare it now, I hate you worse than ever. Sir Cha. Ha, ha, ha! And was it afraid they Lady Easy. My dear, I beg your pardon; but it is impossible not to laugh when one is so heartily pleased. Lord Fop. Really, madam, I am afraid the humour of the company will draw me into your displeasure, too; but, if I were to expire this moment, my last breath would positively go out with a laugh. Ha, ha, ha! Lady Bet. Nay, I have deserved it all, that's the truth on't-but I hope, my lord, you were not in this design against me. Lord More. As a proof, madam, I am inclined never to deceive you more-I do confess I had my share in it. Lady Bet. You do, my lord—then I declare it was a design, one or other-the best carried on that ever I knew in my life; and (to my shame I own it) for aught I know, the only thing that could have prevailed upon my temper; 'twas a foolish pride that has cost me many a bitten lip to support it-I wish we don't both repent, my lord. Lord More, Don't you repent with me, and we never shall. Sir Cha. Well, madam, now the worst that the world can say of your past conduct, is, that my lord had constancy, and you had tried it. Enter a Servant to LORD MoreLove. Ser. My lord, Mr Lefevre's below, and desires to know what time your lordship will please to have the music begin. Lord More. Sir Charles, what say you? will you give me leave to bring them hither? Sir Cha. As the ladies think fit, my lord. Lady Bet. Oh! by all means; 'twill be better here, unless we could have the terrace to ourselves. Lord More. Then, pray desire them to come hither immediately. Ser. Yes, my lord, [Exit Servant. Enter LADY GRAVEAIRS. Sir Cha. Lady Graveairs! Lady Grave. Yes, you may well start! But don't suppose I am now come, like a poor tame fool, to upbraid your guilt; but, if I could, to blast you with a look. Sir Cha. Come, come, you have sense-don't expose yourself-you are unhappy, and I own myself the cause. The only satisfaction I can offer you, is to protest, no new engagement takes me from you; but a sincere reflection of the long neglect, and injuries I have done the best of wives; for whose amends, and only sake, I now must part with you, and all the inconvenient pleasures of my life. VOL. II. Lady Grave. Have you then fallen into the low contempt of exposing me, and to your wife, too? Sir Cha. 'Twas impossible; without it, I could never be sincere in my conversion. Lady Grave. Despicable! Sir Cha. Do not think so- -for my sake I know she'll not reproach you-nor, by her carriage, ever let the world perceive you have wronged her. My dear— Lady Easy. Lady Graveairs, I hope you will sup with us? Lady Grave. I cannot refuse so much good company, madam. Sir Cha. You see the worst of her resentment- In the mean time, don't endeavour to be her friend, and she'll never be your enemy. Lady Grave. I am unfortunate-'tis what my folly has deserved, and I submit to it. Lord More, So! here is the music. Lady Easy. Come, ladies, shall we sit? SIR CHARLES comes forward with LADY EASY. Sir Cha. Now, my dear, I find my happiness grow fast upon me; in all my past experience of the sex, I found, even among the better sort, so much of folly, pride, malice, passion, and irresolute desire, that I concluded thee but of the foremost rank, and, therefore, scarce worthy my concern; but thou hast stirred me with so severe a proof of thy exalted virtue, it gives me wonder equal to my love-If, then, the unkindly thought of what I have been, hereafter shall intrude upon thy growing quiet, let this reflection teach thee to be easy: Thy wrongs, when greatest, most thy virtue' proved; And, from that virtue found, I blushed, and truly loved. 3I [Exeunt omnes. |