chief, nay, and a mask to boot, in the middle of | have reached the ears of the wicked ones :---veriJuly. ly, it troubleth me. Mrs Love. Ay; to keep the sun from scorching me. Oba. Prim. If thou couldst not bear the sunbeams, how dost thou think man can bear thy beams? Those breasts inflame desire; let them be hid, I say. Mrs Love. Let me be quiet, I say. Must I be tormented thus for ever? Sure no woman's condition ever equalled mine! Foppery, folly, avarice, and hypocrisy, are, by turns, my constant companions and I must vary shapes as often as a player-I cannot think my father meant this tyranny! No, you usurp an authority which he never intended you should take. Oba. Prim. Hark thee; dost thou call good counsel tyranny? Do I, or my wife, tyrannize, when we desire thee, in all love, to put off thy tempting attire, and veil thy provokers to sin? Mrs Love. Deliver me, good Heaven! or I shall go distracted. [Walks about. Mrs Prim. So! now thy pinners are tost, and thy breasts pulled up! Verily, they were seen enough before. Fy upon the filthy tailor who made thy stays! Mrs Love. I wish I were in my grave! me rather than treat me thus. Kill Oba. Prim. Kill thee! ha, ha! thou thinkest thou art acting some lewd play, sure!-kill thee! Art thou prepared for death, Anne Lovely? No, no; thou wouldst rather have a husband, AnneThou wantest a gilt coach, with six lazy fellows behind, to flaunt it in the ring of vanity, among the princes and rulers of the land, who pamper themselves with the fatness thereof; but I will take care that none shall squander away thy father's estate; thou shalt marry none such, Anne. Mrs Love. Would you marry me to one of your own canting sect? Oba. Prim. Yea, verily; no one else shall ever get my consent, I do assure thee, Anne. Mrs Love. And, I do assure thee, Obadiah, that I will as soon turn Papist, and die in a con vent. Mrs Prim. Oh, wickedness! Oba. Prim. Oh, blindness of heart! Mrs Love. Thou blinder of the world, don't provoke me--lest I betray your sanctity, and leave your wife to judge of your purity:--What were the emotions of your spirit---when you squeezed Mary by the hand last night in the pantry--when she told you, you bussed so filthily? Ah! you had no aversion to naked bosoms, when you begged her to shew you a little, little, little bit of her delicious bubby :---don't you remember those words, Mr Prim? Mrs Prim. What does she say, Obadiah? Ob. Prim. She talketh unintelligibly, Sarah. Which way did she hear this? This should not Enter Servant. [Aside. Sir Phi. How dost thou do, friend Prim? Odso! my she-friend here, too! What, are you documenting Miss Nancy? Reading her a lecture upon the pinched coif, I warrant ye! Mrs Prim. I am sure thou didst never read her any lecture that was good. My flesh riseth so at these wicked ones, that prudence adviseth me to withdraw from their sight. [Exit. Col. Oh! that I could find means to speak with her! How charming she appears! I wish I could get this letter into her hand. [Aside. Sir Phi. Well, Miss Cockey, I hope thou hast got the better of them. Mrs Love. The difficulties of my life are not to be surmounted, sir Philip.I hate the impertinence of him, as much as the stupidity of the other. [Aside. Oba. Prim. Verily, Philip, thou wilt spoil this maiden. Sir Phi. I find we still differ in opinion; but that we may none of us spoil her, prithee, Prim, let us consent to marry her.-I have sent for our brother guardians to meet me here about this very thing-Madam, will you give me leave to recommend a husband to you? Here's a gentleman, whom, in my mind, you can have no objection to. [Presents the Colonel to her, she looks an other way. Mrs Love. Heaven deliver me from the formal, and the fantastic fool! Col. A fine woman—a fine horse, and fine equipage, are the finest things in the universe: and if I am so happy to possess you, madam, I shall become the envy of mankind, as much as you outshine your whole sex. [As he takes her hand to kiss it, he endeavours to put a letter into it; she lets it drop-PRIM takes it up. Mrs Love. I have no ambition to appear conspicuously ridiculous, sir. [Turning from him. Col. So fail the hopes of Fainwell. Mrs Love. Ha! Fainwell! 'Tis he! What have I done? Prim has the letter, and it will be discovered! [Aside. Oba. Prim. Friend, I know not thy name, so cannot call thee by it; but thou seest thy letter is unwelcome to the maiden; she will not read it. Mrs Love. Nor shall you; [Snatches the letter.] I'll tear it in a thousand pieces, and scatter it, as I will the hopes of all those that any of you shall recommend to me. [Tears the letter. Sir Phil. Ha! Right woman, faith ! Col. Excellent woman! [Aside. Oba. Prim. Friend, thy garb savoureth too much of the vanity of the age for my approbation; nothing that resembleth Philip Modelove shall I love; mark that-therefore, friend Philip, bring no more of thy own apes under my roof. Sir Phi. I am so entirely a stranger to the monsters of thy breed, that I shall bring none of them, I am sure. Col. I am likely to have a pretty task by that time I have gone through them all; but she's a city worth taking; and, 'egad! I'll carry on the siege: if I can but blow up the outworks, I fancy I am pretty secure of the town. [Aside. again with the rest of mankind: for I like him not. Col. Pray, sir, without offence to your formality, what may be your objections? Oba. Prim. Thy person; thy manners; thy dress; thy acquaintance;-thy every thing, friend. Sir Phi. You are most particularly obliging, friend, ha, ha! Trade. What business do you follow, pray, sir? Col. Humph! by that question he must be the broker. [Aside.] Business, sir! the business of a gentleman. Trade. That is as much as to say, you dress fine, feed high, lie with every woman you like, and pay your surgeon's bill better than your tailor's, or your butcher's. Col. The court is much obliged to you, sir, for your character of a gentleman. Trade. The court, sir! What would the court do without us citizens? Sir Phi. Without your wives and daughters, you mean, Mr Tradelove? Per. Have you ever travelled, sir? Col. That question must not be answered now Per. In books! That's fine travelling, indeed! -Sir Philip, when you present a person I like, he shall have my consent to marry Mrs Lovely; till then, your servant. [Erit. Col. I'll make you like me before I have done with I you, or am mistaken. [Aside. Trade. And when you can convince me that a beau is more useful to my country than a merchant, you shall have mine; till then, you must excuse me. [Exit. Col. So much for trade-I'll fit you, too. [Aside. Sir Phi. In my opinion, this is very inhuman treatment, as to the lady, Mr Prim. Oba. Prim. Thy opinion and mine happen to differ as much as our occupations, friend; business requireth my presence, and folly thine; and so I must bid thee farewell. [Exit. Sir Phi. Here's breeding for you, Mr Feignwell! Gad take me, Half my estate I'd give to see them bit. Col. I hope to bite you all, if my plot hit. [Exeunt. Mr Sea. Why, sirrah, though you are a country boy, you can see, cannot you? You know whether she is at home when you see her, don't you? Boy. Nay, nay; I'm not such a country lad, neither, master, to think she is at home because I see her; I have been in town but a month, and I lost one place already for believing my own eyes. Mr Sea. Why, sirrah, have you learnt to lie already? Boy. Ah, master! things that are lies in the country, are not lies at London-I begin to know my business a little better than so-but, an you please to walk in, I'll call a gentlewoman to you that can tell you for certain-She can make bold to ask my lady herself. Mr Sea. Oh, then she is within, I find, though you dare not say so. Boy. Nay, nay, that's neither here nor there; what's matter whether she is within or no, if she has not a mind to see any body? Mr Sea. I cannot tell, sirrah, whether you are arch or simple; but, however, get me a direct answer, and here's a shilling for you. Boy. Will you please to walk in; I'll see what I can do for you. Mr Sea. I see you will be fit for your business in time, child; but I expect to meet with nothing but extraordinaries in such a house. Boy. Such a house, sir! You han't seen it yet. Pray walk in. Mr Sea. Sir, I'll wait upon you. SCENE II.-INDIANA's house. Enter ISABELLA and Boy. Isa. What anxiety do I feel for this poor creature! What will be the end of her? Such a languishing, unreserved passion for a man, that, at last, must certainly leave or ruin her, and, perhaps, both! then, the aggravation of the distress is, that she dare not believe he will-not but I must own, if they are both what they would seem, they are made for one another, as much as Adam and Eve were; for there is no other of their kind, but themselves. So, Daniel, what news with you? Boy. Madam, there's a gentleman below would speak with my lady. Isa. Sirrah, don't you know Mr Bevil yet? Boy. Madam, 'tis not the gentleman who comes every day and asks for you, and won't go in till he knows whether you are with her or no. Isa. Ha! that's a particular I did not know before. Well, be it who it will, let him come up to me. [Exit Boy, and re-enters with MR SEALAND. ISABELLA looks amazed. Mr Sea. Madam, I cannot blame your being a little surprised to see a perfect stranger make you a visit, and Isa. I am indeed surprized—I see he does not know me. [Aside. Mr Sea. You are very prettily lodged here, madam; in troth, you seem to have every thing in plenty- -a thousand a-year, I warrant you, upon this pretty nest of rooms, and the dainty one within them. [Aside, and looking about. Isa. [Apart.] Twenty years, it seems, have less effect in the alteration of a man of thirty, than of a girl of fourteen-he's almost still the same but, alas! I find by other men as well as himself I am not what I was. As soon as he spoke, I was convinced 'twas he. How shall I contain my surprise and satisfaction! He must not know me yet. Mr Sea. Madam, I hope I don't give you any disturbance? but there is a young lady here, with whom I have a particular business to discourse, and I hope she will admit me to that fa vour. Isa. Why, sir, have you had any notice concerning her? I wonder who could give it you. Mr Sea. That, madam, is fit only to be communicated to herself. Isa. Well, sir, you shall see her I find he knows nothing yet, nor shall, for me: I am resolved I will observe this interlude, this sport_of nature and fortune. You shall see her presentły, sir; for now I am as a mother, and will trust her with you. [Exit. Mr Sea. As a mother! right; that's the old phrase for one of these commode ladies, who lend out beauty for hire to young gentlemen that have pressing occasions. But here comes the precious lady herself in troth, a very sightly woman! Enter INDIANA. Ind. I am told, sir, you have some affair that requires your speaking with me? Mr Sea. Yes, madam. There came to my hands a bill, drawn by Mr Bevil, which is payable to-morrow, and he, in the intercourse of business, sent it to me, who have cash of his, and desired me to send a servant with it; but I have made bold to bring you the money myself. Ind. Sir, was that necessary? Mr Sea. No, madam; but, to be free with you, the fame of your beauty, and the regard which Mr Bevil is a little too well known to have for you, excited my curiosity. Ind. Too well known to have for me! Your sober appearance, sir, which my friend described, made me to expect no rudeness or absurdity at least. Who's there? Sir, if you pay the money to a servant, 'twill be as well. Mr Sea. Pray, madam, be not offended; I came hither on an innocent, nay, a virtuous design; and if you will have patience to hear me, it may be as useful to you, as you are in friend-o ship with Mr Bevil, as to my only daughter, | into the matter I came about; but 'tis the same whom I was this day disposing of. Ind. You make me hope, sir, I have mistaken you: I am composed again: be free, say onwhat I am afraid to hear. Aside. Mr Sea. I feared, indeed, an unwarranted passion here, but I did not think it was an abuse of so worthy an object, so accomplished a lady, as your sense and mien bespeak-but the youth of our age care not what merit and virtue they bring to shame, so they gratify thing as if we had talked ever so distinctly-he never shall have a daughter of mine. Ind. If you say this from what you think of me, you wrong yourself and him. Let not me, miserable though I may be, do injury to my benefactor: no, sir, my treatment ought rather to reconcile you to his virtues. If to bestow without a prospect of return-if to delight in supporting what might, perhaps, be thought an object of desire, with no other view than to be her guard against those who would not be so disinterested -if these actions, sir, can in a parent's eye commend him to a daughter, give yours, sir; give her to my honest, generous Bevil! What have I to do but sigh and weep, to rave, run wild, a lu Ind. Sir, you are going into very great errors -but as you are pleased to say you see something in me that has changed at least the colour of your suspicions, so has your appearance altered mine, and made me earnestly attentive to what has any way concerned you, to inquire intonatic in chains, or, hid in darkness, mutter in my affairs and character. distracted starts, and broken accents, my strange, strange story! Mr Sea. How sensibly-with what an air she talks! Ind. Good sir, be seated-and tell me tenderly-keep all your suspicions concerning me alive, that you may in a proper and prepared way-acquaint me why the care of your daughter obliges a person of your seeming worth and fortune to be thus inquisitive about a wretched, helpless, friendless-[Weeping.] But I beg your pardon though I am an orphan, your child is not, and your concern for her, it seems, has brought you hither—I'll be composed-pray, go on, sir. Mr Sea. How could Mr Bevil be such a monster to injure such a woman? Ind. No, sir, you wrong him; he has not injured me--my support is from his bounty. Mr Sea. Bounty! when gluttons give high prices for delicacies, they are prodigious bountiful! Ind. Still, still you will persist in that errorbut my own fears tell me all. You are the gentleman, I suppose, for whose happy daughter he is designed a husband by his good father, and he has, perhaps, consented to the overture, and is to be, perhaps, this night a bridegroom. Mr Sea. I own he was intended such; but, madam, on your account, I am determined to defer my daughter's marriage till I am satisfied, from your own mouth, of what nature are the obligations you are under to him. Ind. His actions, sir, his eyes, have only made me think he designed to make me the partner of his heart. The goodness and gentleness of his demeanour made me misinterpret all; 'twas my own hope, my own passion, that deluded me ;he never made one amorous advance to me; his large heart and bestowing hand have only helped the miserable: nor know I why, but from his inere delight in virtue, that I have been his care, the object on which to indulge and please himself with pouring favours. Mr Sea. Madam, I know not why it is, but I, gas well as you, am, methinks, afraid of entering Mr Sea. Take comfort, madam. Ind. All my comfort must be to expostulate in madness, to relieve with frenzy my despair, and, shrieking, to demand of Fate why, why was I born to such variety of sorrows? Mr Sea. If I have been the least occasionInd. No; 'twas Heaven's high will I should be such; to be plundered in my cradle, tossed on the seas, and even there, an infant captive, to lose my mother, hear but of my father-to be adopted, lose my adopter, then plunged again in worse calamities! Mr Sea. An infant captive! Ind. Yet, then, to find the most charming of mankind once more to set me free from what I thought the last distress, to load me with his services, his bounties, and his favours, to support my very life in a way that stole, at the same time, my very soul itself from me. Mr Sea. And has young Bevil been this wor thy man? Ind. Yet then, again, this very man to take another, without leaving me the right, the pretence, of easing my fond heart with tears? for oh! I can't reproach him, though the same hand, that raised me to this height, now throws me down the precipice. Mr Sea. Dear lady! oh, yet one moment's patience; my heart grows full with your affliction! but yet there's something in your story that promises relief when you least hope it. Ind. My portion here is bitterness and sorrow. Mr Sea. Do not think so. Pray, answer me; docs Bevil know your name and family? Ind. Alas, too well! Oh! could I be any other thing than what I am-I'll tear away all traces of my former self, my little ornaments, the remains of my first state, the hints of what I ought to have been [In her disorder, she throws away her bracelet, which SEALAND takes up, and looks earnestly at.] all his obligations, the pride, the joy of his alliance, sir, would warm your heart, as he has con Mr Sea. Ha! what's this? my eyes are not deceived! it is, it is the same! the very bracelet which I bequeathed my wife at our last mourn-quered mine. ful parting! Ind. What said you, sir? your wife! Whither does my fancy carry me? what means this new felt motion at my heart? And yet again my fortune but deludes me; for if I err not, sir, your name is Sealand; but my lost father's name Isa. But here's a claim more tender yet-your Indiana, sir, your long-lost daughter. Mr Sea. Oh, my child, my child ! Ind. All-gracious Heaven! is it possible! do I embrace my father! Mr Sea. How laudable is love when born of virtue! I burn to embrace him. Ind. See, sir, my aunt already has succeeded, and brought him to your wishes. Enter ISABELLA with SIR JOHN BEVIL, BEVIL jun. MRS SEALAND, CIMBERTON, MYRTLE, and LUCINDA. Sir J. Bev. [Entering.] Where, where's this scene of wonder!-Mr Sealand, I congratulate, on this occasion, our mutual happiness--Your good sister, sir, has, with the story of your daughter's fortune, filled us with surprise and joy. Now all exceptions are removed; my son has now avowed his love, and turned all former jealousies and doubts to approbation, and I am told your goodness has consented to reward him. Mr Sea. If, sir, a fortune, equal to his father's hopes, can make this object worthy his accept ance. Bev. I hear your mention, sir, of fortune, with pleasure only, as it may prove the means to reconcile the best of fathers to my love; let him be provident, but let me be happy.-My ever destined, my acknowledged wife! [Embracing INDIANA. Ind. Wife!-oh! my ever-loved, my lord, my master! Sir J. Bev. I congratulate myself, as well as you, that I have a son who could, under such disadvantages, discover your great merit. Mr Sea. And do I hold thee !-These passions are too strong for utterance.-Rise, rise, my child, and give my tears their way-Oh, my sister! [Embracing her. Isa. Now, dearest niece! my groundless fears, my painful cares, no more shall vex thee: if Í Mr Sea. Oh, sir John, how vain, how weak is have wronged thy noble lover with too hard sus-human prudence! what care, what foresight, what picions, my just concern for thee, I hope, will imagination could contrive such blest events to plead my pardon, make our children happy, as Providence, in one short hour, has laid before us? Mr Sea. Oh! make him then the full amends, and be yourself the messenger of joy: fly this instant-tell him all these wondrous turns of Providence in his favour; tell him I have now a daughter to bestow, which he no longer will decline; that this day he still shall be a bridegroom; nor shall a fortune, the merit which his father seeks, be wanting. Tell him the reward of all his virtues waits on his acceptance. [Exit ISABELLA.] My dearest Indiana! [Turns and embraces her. Ind. Have I then at last a father's sanction on my love? his bounteous hand to give, and make my heart a present worthy of Bevil's generosity? Mr Sea. Oh, my child! how are our sorrows past o'erpaid by such a meeting! Though I have lost so many years of soft paternal dalliance with thee, yet, in one day to find thee thus, and thus bestow thee, in such perfect happiness, is ample, ample reparation! and yet, again, the merit of thy lover Ind. Oh, had I spirits left to tell you of his actions! how strongly filial duty has suppressed his love, and how concealment still has doubled VOL. II. Cim. [To MRS SEALAND.] I am afraid, madam, Mr Sealand is a little too busy for our affair; if you please we'll take another opportunity. Mrs Sea. Let us have patience, sir. [During this, BEV. jun. presents LUCINDA Mr Sea. But here, here's our general benefactor. Excellent young man! that could be at once a lover to her beauty, and a parent to her virtue! Bev. jun. If you think that an obligation, sir, give me leave to overpay myself in the only instance that can now add to my felicity, by begging you to bestow this lady on Mr Myrtle. Mr Sea. She is his without reserve; I beg he may be sent for. Mr Cimberton, notwithstanding you never had my consent, yet there is, since I saw you, another objection to your marriage with my daughter. Cim. I hope, sir, your lady has concealed nothing from me? 4 M |