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Sit. Here, madam

Enter Sertant.
Enter two Footmen.

Ser. Mrs Sylvia, madam, is come to wait on

your ladyslip. Lady Dain. Cæsar' Run to my lady Round- Lady Dain. Desire her to walk in ; let the sides ; desire to know now she rested; and tell physic alone: I'll take a little of her company; her the violence of my cold is abated : huh, huh! She's mighty good for the spleen. Pompey, step you to my lady Killchairman's ;

Enter Sylvia. give my service; say I have been so embarrassed with the spleen all this morning, that I am under Syl. Dear lady Dainty! the greatest uncertainty in the world, whether I Lady Dain. My good creature, I'm overjoyed shall be able to stir out or no- - And, d've hear? | to see you-huli

, huh! desire to know how my lord does, and the new Syl. I am sorry to see your ladyship wrapt up monkey-

[Ereunt footmen. thus; I was in hopes to have had your company Sit. In my conscience, these great ladies make to the India flouse. themselves sick, to make themselves business; Lady Dain. If any thing could tempt me and are well or ill, only in ceremony to one ano- abroad, 'twould be that place, and such agreether.

[Aside. able company; but how came you, dear Sylvia, Lady Dain. Where's t'other fellow?

to be reconciled to any thing in an India House? Sit. He is not returned yet, madam.

you used to have a most barbarous inclination for Lady Dain. 'Tis indeed a strange lump, not our own odious manufactures. fit to carry a disease to any body; I sent him Syl. Nay, madam, I am only going to recruit t'other day to the dutchess of Diet-Drink, with my tea-table: as to the rest of their trumpery, I the colic, and the brute put it into his own tra- am as much out of humour with it as ever. montane language, and called it the belly-ach. Lady Dain. Well, thou art a pleasant crea

Sit. I wish your ladyship had not occasion to ture, thy distaste is so diverting. send for any; for my part

Syl. And your ladyship is so expensive, that Lady Dain. Thy part! Prithee, thou wert really I am not able to come into it. made of the rough masculine kind; 'tis betraying Lady Dain. Now it is to me prodigious, how our sex, not to be sickly and tender. All the fa- some women can muddle away their money upon milies I visit, have something derived to them housewifery, children, books, and charities, when from the elegant nice state of indisposition; you there are so many well-bred ways, and foreign see, even in the men, a genteel, as it were, stag- curiosities, that more elegantly require it-I have ger, or twine of the bodies; as if they were not every morning the rarities of all countries brought yet confirmed enough for the rough, laborious to me, and am in love with every new thing I exercise of walking. Nay, even most of their see.- Are the people come yet, Situp? diseases, you see, are not prophaned by the Sit. They have been below, madam, this half crowd: the apoplexy, the gout, and vapours, are hour. all peculiar to the nobility. Huh, buh! And I Lady Dain. Dispose them in the parlour, and could almost wish, that colds were only ours; we'll be there presently.

[Erit SITUP. there's something in them so genteel, so agreea- Syl. How can your ladyship take such pleasure ably disordering--Hub, huh!

in being cheated with the baubles of other counSit. That, I hope, I shall never be fit for them tries? -Your ladyship forgot the spleen.

Lady Dain. Thou art a very infidel to all finery. Lady Dain. Oh! my dear spleen-I grudge Syl. And you are a very bigotthat even to some of us.

Lady Dain. A person of all reason, and no Sit, I knew an iroumonger's wife, in the city, complaisance. that was mightily troubled with it.

Syl. And your ladyship all complaisance, and Ludy Dain. Foh! What a creature hast thou no reason. named! An ironmonger's wife have the spleen! Lady Dain. Follow me, and be converted. Thou mightst as well have said her husband was

[Ercunt. a fine gentleman–Give me something!

Sit. Will your ladyship please to take any of Re-enter SIUP, a woman with china ware; an the steel drops ? Or the bolus? Or the electuary?

Indian man with screens, tea, 8c, a birdman, Or

with a paroquet, monkey, &c. Lady Dain. This wench will smother me with questions—Huh, huh! Bring any of them—these Sit. Come, come into this room. healthy sluts are so boisterous, they split one's Chi. I hope your ladyship’s lady won't be long brains: I fancy myself in an inn while she talks in coming. to me; I must have some decayed person of qua

Sit. I don't care if she never comes to you.lity about me ; for the commons of England are It seems you trade with the ladies for old clothes, the strangest creatures Iluh, huh!

and give them china for their gowns and petticoats; I'm like to have a fine time on't with such Chi. These are pagods, madam, that the Increatures as you indeed!

dians worship Chi. Alas, madam, I'm but a poor woman, and Lady Dain. So far I am an Indian. am forced to do any thing to live. Will your la- Syl. Now, to me, they are all monsters. dyship be pleased to accept of a piece of china? Lady Duin. Profane creature!

Sit. Puh! no. I don't care. Though I must Chi. Is your ladyship for a piece of right Flanneeds say you look like an honest woman. ders lace?

[Looking on it. Lady Dain. Um—no; I don't care for it, now Chi. Thank you, good madam.

it is not prohibited. Sit. Our places are like to come to a finc pass Ind. Will your ladyship be pleased to have a indeed, if our ladies must buy their china with pound of fine tea? our perquisites. At this rate, iny lady sha'nt Lady Dain. What, filthy, odious Bohea, I suphave an old fan or a glove, but

pose? Chi. Pray, madam, take it.

Ind. No, madam; right Kappakawawa. Sit. No, not I; I won't have it, especially with- Lady Dain. Well, there's something in the veout a saucer to't. Here, take it again.

ry sound of that name, that makes it irresistible. Chi. Indeed you shall accept of it.

What is it a pound? Sit. Not I, truly-come, give it me, give it Ind. But six guineas, madam. me;—here's my lady.

Lady Dain. How infinitely cheap! I'll buy it

all. -Situp, take the man in and pay him, and Enter LADY DAINTY and SYLVIA.

let the rest call again to-morrow. Lady Dain. Well, my dear, is not this a pretty Omn. Bless your ladyship! sight now?

[Ereunt Sit. Chi. Ind. and Bird. Syl. 'Tis better than so many doctors and apo- Lady Dain. Lord, how feverish I am!-the thecaries, indeed.

least motion does so disorder me-do but feel Lady Dain. All trades must live, you know; me. and those, no more than these, could subsist, if Syl. No, really, I think you are in very good the world were all wise or healthy.

temper. Syl. I am afraid our real diseases are but few Lady Dain. Burning, indeed, child. to our imaginary, and doctors get more by the sound than the sickly.

Enter Servant, Doctor, and Apothecary. Lady Dain. My dear, you're allowed to say any Ser. Madam, here's Doctor Bolus and the

ароthing but now I must talk with the people. thecary.

[Erit. Have you got any thing new there?

Lady Dain. Oh, doctor, I'm glad you're come; Chi. Ind. and Bird. Yes, an't please your lady- one is not sure of a moinent's life without you. ship.

Dr Bol. How did your ladyship rest, madam? Lady Dain. One at once.

(Feels her pulse. Bird. I have brought your ladyship the finest Lady Dain. Never worse, indeed, doctor: I monkey

once fell into a little. slumber, indeed, but then Syl. What a filthy thing it is !

was disturbed by the most odious, frightful dream, Lady Dain. Now I think he looks very humo- that if the fright had not wakened me, I had cerrous and agreeable-I vow, in a white perriwig tainly perished in my sleep, with the apprehenhe might do mischief. Could he but talk and sion. take souff, there's ne'er a fop in town would go Dr Bol. A certain sign of a disordercd brain, beyond hiin.

madam; but I'll order something that shall comSyl. Most fops would go farther if they did not pose your ladyship. speak; but talking, indeed, makes them very Lady Dain. Mr Rhubarb, I must quarrel with often worse company than monkies.

-you don't disguise your medicines enough; Lady Dain. Thou pretty little picture of man!-- they taste all physic. How very Indian he looks ! I could kiss the Rhu. To alter it more might offend the operadear creature!

tion, madam, Syl. Ah, don't touch him! he'll bite!

Lady Dain. I don't care what is offended, so Bird. No, madam, he is the tamest you ever my taste is not. saw, and the least mischievous.

Dr Bol. Hark you, Mr Rhubarb, withdraw the Lady Dain. Then take him away, I won't medicine, rather than not make it pleasant: I'll have him; for mischief is the wit of a monkey; find a season for the want of its operation. ( aside. and I would not give a farthing for one that Rhu. But, sir, if we don't look about us, she'll would not break me three or four pounds worth grow well upon our hands. of china in a morning. Oh, I am in love with Dr Bol. Never fear that; she's too much a these Indian figures !--Do but observe what an woman of quality to dare to be well without her innocent natural simplicity there is in all the ac- doctor's opinion. tions of them!

Rhu. Sir, we have drained the whole cata

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logue of diseases already; there's not another great while, but 'twould not do--nay, had you left to put in her head.

had as little wit as good-nature, should have proDr Bol. Then, I'll make her go them over ceeded to dance and sing. Tell me but how, again.

what face or form can worship you, and behold

your votary. Enter CARELESS.

Lady Dain. Not, sir, as the Persians do the Care. So, here's the old levee, doctor and apo- sun, with your face towards me. The best proof thecary in close consultation ! Now will I demo- you can give of your borrid devotion, is never to lish the quack and his medicines before her face. see me more. Come, my dear. [Erit Lady DAIN. Mr Rhubarb, your servant, Pray, what have Syl. I'm amazed so much assurance should not you got in your hand there?


[Erit. Syl. Rhu. Only a julep and composing draught for Care. All this shan't make me out of love with my lady, sir.

my virtue. Impudence has ever been a successCare. Have you so, sir? Pray, let me see- ful quality, and 'twould be hard, indeed, if I I'll prescribe to-day, Doctor, you may go--the should be the first that did not thrive by it. lady sball take no physic at present but me.

[Erit, Dr Bol. Sir

SCENE II.-ClrrInOrr's Lodgings. Care. Nay, if you won't believe me [Breaks the phials.

Enter Atall, and Finder, his mun, Lady Dain. Ab

Atall. You are sure you know the house again? (Frighted, and leaning upon Syl. Fin. Ah, as well as I do the upper gallery, Dr Bol. Come away, Mr Rhubarb, he'll cer- sir.—'Tis sir Solomon Sadlife's, at the two tainly put her out of order, and then she'll send glass lanthorns, within three doors of my lord for us again.

(Erit Dr Bol. and Ruu. duke's. Cure. You see, madain, what pains I take to Atall. Very well, sir—then take this letter,


enquire for my lady Sadlite's woman, and stay Lady Dain. You take a very preposterous way, for an answer. I can tell you, sir.

Fin. Yes, sir.

[Erit. FIN. Care. I can't tell how I succeed, but I am Atall. Well, I find 'tis as ridiculous to propose sure I endeavour right; for I study every morni- pleasure in love without variety of' mistresses, as ing new impertinence to entertain you : for, since to pretend to be a keen sportsman without a good I find nothing but dogs, doctors, and monkies are stable of horses. How this lady may prove, I your favourites, it is very hard, if your ladyship can't tell; but, if she is not a reedy tit at the won't admit me as one of the number.

bottom, I'm no jockey. Lady Dain. When I find you of an equal me

Re-enter FINDER, rit with my monkey, you shall be in the same state of favour. I contess, as a proof of your Fin. Sir, here are two letters for you. wit, you have done me as much mischief here. Atall. Who brought them? But you have not half pug's judgment, nor his Fin. A couple of footmen, and they both despirit; for the creature will do a world of plea- sire an answer. sant things, without caring whether one likes Atall. Bid them stay, and do you make haste them or not.

where I ordered you. Care. Why, truly, madam, the little gentle- Fin, Yes, sir.

Erit. man, my rival, I believe, is much in the right Atall. To col. Standfast-that's Clarinda's hand on't: and, if you observe, I have taken as much-To Mr Freeman—that must be my incognita. pains of late to disoblige, as to please you. Ah, I have most mind to open this first ;-but,

Ludy Dain. You succeed beiter in one than if totber malicious creature sbould have perveris t'other, I can tell you, sir.

ed her growing inclination to me, 'I would put my Care. I am glad on't ; for, if you had not whole frame in a trembling-Ilold, I'll guess me now and then to plague you, what would my fate by degrees—this may give ine a glimpse you do for a pretence to be chagrined, to faint, of it. [Reads Clarinda’s detier.] Um-um-um have the spleen, the vapours, and all those mo- – Ha! To meet her at my lady Sadlite's, at seven dish disorders, that so nicely distinguish a woman o'clock to-night, and take no manner of notice of quality?

of my late disowning myself to her-Something's Ludy Dain. I am perfectly confounded ! at the bottom of all this.- Now, to solve the Certainly there are some people too impudent riddle. [Reads the other letter.] ‘My cousin Clafor our resentment.

'rinda has told some things of you, that very Cure. Modesty's a starving virtue, madam; an much alarm me; but, I am willing to suspend old threadbare fashion of the last age, and would 'my belief of them till I see you, which I des sit as oddly on a lover now, as a picked beard • sire may be at my lady Sadlife's, at seven this and mustachios.

• evening.'— The devil ! the same place !-- As Lady Dain. Most astonishing !

‘ you value the real friendship of your Cure, I have tried sighing and looking silly :





So, now the riddle's out—the rival queens are my interest, or rather one that can personate fairly come to a reference, and one or both of one. them I must lose, that's positive.—Hard ! Cle. That's easily found - But what to do?

Atall. Come along, and I'll tell you; for, first, Enter CLERIMONT.

I must answer their letters.

Cle. Thou art an original, faith! [Ereunt. Hard fortune! Now, poor Impudence, what will become of thee? Oh, Clerimont, such a compli- SCENE III.Changes to Sie Solomon's house. cation of adventures since I saw thee! such sweet hopes, fears, and unaccountable difficulties, sure

Enter SiR SOLOMON leading LADY SAdlife, and never poor dog was surrounded with !

WISHWELL, her woman. Cle. Oh, you are an industrious person! you'll get over them. But, pray, let's hear.

Sir Sol. There, madam, let me have no more Atall. To begin, then, in the climax of my of these airings.- No good, I am sure, can keep misfortunes :-In the first place, the private a woman five or six hours abroad in a morning. lodgings, that my incognita appointed to receive Lady Sad. You deny me all the innocent freeme in, prove to be the very individual habitation doms of life. of my other mistress, whom (to complete the Sir Sol. Ha! you have the modish cant of blunder of my ill luck) she civilly introduced in this end of the town, I see. Intriguing, gamperson, to recommend me to her better acquainting, gadding, and party-quarries, with a pox to

them, are innocent freedoms, forsooth ! Cle. Ha, ha! Death! how could you stand Lady Sad. I don't know what you mean; I'm them both together?

sure I have not one acquaintance in the world, Atall. The old way—buff— I stuck like a burr that does an ill thing. to my name of Freeman, addressed my incognita Sir Sol. They must be better looked after before the other's face, and, with a most un- than your ladyship then; but I'll mend my hands moved good-breeding, harmlessly faced her down as fast as I can. Do you look to your reI had never seen her in my life before.

putation henceforward, and I'll take care of your Cle. The prettiest modesty I ever heard of! person. Well, but how did they discover you at last? Lady Sad. You wrong my virtue with these

Atall. Why, faith, the matter's yet in sus unjust suspicions. pence; and, I find, by both their letters, that Sir Sol. Ay, it's no matter for that; better I they don't yet well know what to think : but, (to wrong it than you. I'll secure my doors for this go on with my luck) you must know, they have day at least.

[Exit. since both appointed ine, by several names, to Lady Sad. Oh, Wishwell! what shall I do? meet them at one and the same place, at seven Wish. What's the matter, madam? o'clock this evening.

Lady Sad. I expect a letter from a gentlenian Cle. Ah!

every minute; and if it should fall into sir Atall. And, lastly, to crown my fortune (as if | Solomon's hands, I'm ruined past redemption. the devil himself most triumphantly rode a-strad- Wish. He won't suspect it, madam, sure, if dle upon my ruin) the fatal place of their ap- they are directed to me, as they used to be. pointment happens to be the very house of a Lady Sad. But bis jealousy's grown so violent third lady, with whom I made an acquaintance of late, there's no trusting to it now. If he meets since morning, and had just before sent word I it, I shall be locked up for ever. would visit near the same hour this evening. Wish. Oh, dear madam! I vow your ladyship

Cle. Oh, murder ! Poor Atall, thou art really frights me—Why, he'll kill me for keeping counfallen under the last degree of compassion. sel.

Atall. And, yet, with a little of thy assistance, Lady Sad. Run to the window, quick, and in the middle of their small-shol, I don't still des- watch the messenger. (Erit Wish.] Ah, there's pair of holding my head above water.

my ruin near !—I feel it-[A knocking at the Cle. Death! but you can't meet them both; door.]What shall I do? Be very insolent, you must lose one of them, unless you can split or very humble, and cry? I have known some yourself.

women, upon these occasions, outstrut their husAtall. Prithee, don't suspect my courage or bands' jealousy, and make them ask pardon my modesty; for, I'm resolved to go on, if you for finding them out. Oh, lud! here he comes ! will stand by me.

I can't do't ; My courage fails me--I Cle. Faith, my very curiosity would make me must e’en stick to my handkerchief, and trust to do that. But what can I do?

nature. Atall. You must appear for me, upon occa

Re-enter Sir Solomon, tuking a letter from Cle. With all my heart. What else?

FINDER. Atall. I shall waạt a queen's messenger in Sir Sol. Sir, I shall make bold to read this

sioui, in person.

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you, my dear.

letter; and if you have a mind to save your and next time, bid him take better care than to bones, there's your way out.

send his letter so publicly. Fin. Oh, terrible! | shan't have a whole one Wish. Yes, madam. But now your ladyship in my skin, when I come home to my master. has read it, I'd fain beg the honour of sir Solo

[Erit. mon to answer it for me ; for I can't write. Lady Sad. Į Aside.) I'm lost for ever!

Lady Sad. Not write! Sir Sol. [Reads.] ' Pardon, most divine crea- Sir Sol. Nay, he thinks she's above that, I supture, the impatience of my heart-Very well! pose; for he calls her divine creature-A pretty these are her innocent freedoms! Ah, cocka- piece of divinity, truly !-But, come, my dear; trice — which languishes for an opportunity to l'egad, we'll answer it for her. Here's paperconvince

you of its sincerity;'-Oh, the ten- you shall do it. der son of a whore !

—which nothing could Lady Sad. I, sir Solomon! Lard, I won't write relieve, but the sweet hope of seeing you this to fellows, not I-I hope he won't take me at 'evening.'-- Poor lady, whose virtue I have wrong- my word.

[ Aside. ed with unjust suspicions !

Sir Sol. Nay, you shall do it. Come, it will Lady Sud. I'm ready to sink with apprehen- get her a good husband. sion.

Wish. Aye, pray, good madam, do. Sir Sol. (Reads.]' To-night, at seven, expect Sir Sol. Ah, how eager the jade is! your dying Strephon'-Die, and be damned ! Lady Sad. I cannot tell how to write to any for l’il remove your comforter, by cutting her body but throat. I could find in my heart to ram his im- Sir Sol. Well, well, I'll dictate, then. Come, pudent letter into her windpipe-Ha! what's begin. this !-- To Mrs Wishwell, my Jady Sadlife's Lady Sad. Lard, this is the oddest fancy! 'woman.'-Ad, I'm glad of it! with all my heart !

[Sits to write. What a happy thing it is to have one's jealousy Sir Sol. Come, come-Dear sir-(for we'll be disappointed Now have I been cursing my as loving as he, for his ears.) poor wife for the mistaken wickedness of that Wish. No, pray madam, begin, Dear honey, trollop ! 'Tis well I kept my thoughts to my- or, My dearest angel. self : for the virtue of a wife, when wrongfully Lady Sad. Out, you fool! You must not be accused, is most unmercifully insolent. Come, so fond-Dear sir, is very well. [Writes. I'll do a great thing; I'll kiss her, and make her Sir Sol. Aye, aye, so 'tis; but these young filamends—What's the matter, my dear? Has any lies are for setting out at the top of their speed. thing frighted you?

But, prithee, Wishwell, what is thy lover for Lady Sad. Nothing but your hard usage. the style of his letter may serve for a countess ? Sir Sol. Come, come, dry thy tears; it shall

Il'ish. Sir, he's but a butler at present; but be so no more. But, hark je, I have made a he's a good schollard, as you may see by his discovery here. Your Wishwell, I'm afraid, is a hand-writing; and, in time, may come to be a slut; she has an intrigue.

steward; and then we shan't be long without a Lady Sad. An intrigue! Heavens, in our fa- coach, sir. mily!

Lady Sad. Dear sir- -What must I write Sir Sol. Read there. I wish she be honest. next?

Lady Sad. How !--If there be the least Sir Sol. Whyground to think it, sir Solomon, positively she

[Musing shan't stay a minute in the house- -Im- Wish. Hoping you are in good health, as I am pudent creature !have an affair with a man! at this present writing. Sir Sol. But hold, my dear; don't let your

vir- Sir Sol. You puppy, he'll laugh at you. tue censure too severely neither.

Wish. I'm sure my mother used to begin all Lady Sad. I shudder at the thoughts of her.

her letters so. Sir Sol. Patience, I say–How do we know Sir Sol. And thou art every inch of thee her but his courtship may be honourable?

own daughter, that I'll say for thee. Lady Sad. That, indeed, requires some pause. Lady Sad. Come, I have done it.—[Reads.}

Wish. [Peeping in.] Su, all's safe, I see-He * Dear sir, she must have very little merit that is thinks the letter's to me-Oh, good madam ! insensible of yours.' that letter was to me, the fellow says. I Sir Sol. Very well, faith! Write all yourself. wonder, sir, how you could serve one so ! If Wish. Aye, good madam, do; that's better my sweetheart should hear you had opened than mine. But, pray, dear madam, let it end it, I know he would not have me, so he would with, “So I rest your dearest loving friend, till

death us do part. Sir Sol. Never fear that: for if he is in love Lady Sad. [Aside.)—This absurd slut will with you, he's too much a fool to value being make me laugh out. aughed at.

Şir Sol. But, hark you, hussy; suppose now Lady Sud. If it be yours, here take your stuff; you should be a little scornful and insolent to


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