F Mr Sea. Troth, sir, nothing but what was concealed from myself; another daughter, who has an undoubted title to half my estate. Cim. How, Mr Sealand! why then, if half Mrs Lucinda's fortune is gone, you can't say that any of my estate is settled upon her; I was in treaty for the whole: but if that's not to be come at, to be sure there can be no bargain. Sir-I have nothing to do but to take my leave of your good lady my cousin, and beg pardon for the trouble I have given this old gentleman. Myr. That you have, Mr Cimberton, with all my heart. [Discovers himself. Omnes. Mr Myrtle ! Myr. And I beg pardon of the whole company, that I assumed the person of sir Geoffry only to be present at the danger of this lady's being disposed of, and, in her utmost exigence, to assert my right to her, which, if her parents will ratify, as they once favoured my pretensions, no abatement of fortune shall lessen her value to me. Luc. Generous man! Mr Sea. If, sir, you can overlook the injury of being in treaty with one who has as meanly left her, as you have generously asserted your right in her, she is yours. Luc. Mr Myrtle, though you have ever had my heart, yet now I find I love you more, because I deserve you less. Mrs Sea. Well, however, I'm glad the girl's disposed of any way. [Aside. Bev. jun. Myrtle! no longer rivals now, but brothers. Myr. Dear Bevil! you are born to triumph over me; but now our competition ceases; I rejoice in the pre-eminence of your virtue, and your alliance adds charms to Lucinda Sir J. Bev. Now, ladies and gentlemen, you have set the world a fair example; your happiness is owing to your constancy and merit, and the several difficulties you have struggled with evidently shew Whate'er the generous mind itself denies, [Exeunt. Servants pass over the stage. Have you been for the money this morning, as I ordered you? Ser. No, sir. You bade me go before you was up; I did not know your honour meant before you went to bed. Ran. None of your jokes, I pray; but to business. Go to the coffee-house, and inquire if there has been any letter or message left for me. Ser. I shall, sir. Ran. [Repeats.] You think she's false; I'm sure she's kind : 'I take her body, You her mind; "Which has the better bargain?' Oh, that I had such a soft, deceitful fair, to lull my senses to their desired sleep! [Knocking at the door.] Come in. Enter SIMON. Oh, master Simon, is it you? How long have you been in town? Sim. Just come, sir; and but for a little time neither; and yet I have as many messages as if we were to stay the whole year round. Here they are, all of them, [Pulls out a number of cards.] and, among them, one for your honour. Ran. [Reads.] Clarinda's compliments to her 'cousin Ranger, and should be glad to see him for ever so little a time that he can be spared from the more weighty business of the law.' Ha, ha, ha! the same merry girl I ever knew her. Sim. My lady is never sad, sir. Ran. Civil! Egad, I think I am very civil. [Kisses her again. Enter a Servant, and BELLAMY. Ser. Sir, Mr Bellamy. Ran. Damn your impertinence—Oh, Mr Bellamy, your servant. Mil. What shall I say to my mistress? Ran. Bid her make half a dozen more; but be sure you bring them home yourself. [Exit Milliner.] Pshaw! Pox! Mr Bellamy, how should you like to be served so yourself? Bel. How can you, Ranger, for a minute's pleasure, give an innocent girl the pain of heart I am confident she felt? -There was a modest blush upon her cheek that convinces me she is honest. Ran. May be so. I was resolved to try, however, had you not interrupted the experiment. Bel. Fy, Ranger! will you never think? Ran. Yes; but I cannot be always athinking. The law is a damnable dry study, Mr Bellamy; and without something now and then to amuse and relax, it would be too much for my brain, I promise ye- -But I am a mighty sober fellow grown. Here have I been at it these three hours; but the wenches will never let me alone. Bel. Three hours! Why, do you usually study in such shoes and stockings? Ran. Rat your inquisitive eyes! Ex pede Herculem. Egad, you have me. The truth is, I am but this moment returned from the tavern. What, Frankly here, too! Enter FRANKLY. Frank. My boy, Ranger, I am heartily glad [Knocking at the door. to see you. Bellamy, let me embrace you; you are the person I want. I have been at your lodgings, and was directed hither. Ran. Pr'ythee, Simon, open the door. Enter Milliner. Well, child--and who are you? Mil. Sir, my mistress gives her service to you; and has sent you home the linen you bespoke. Ran. Well, Simon, my service to your lady, and let her know I will most certainly wait upon her. I am a little busy, Simon-and so a wag Sim. Ah, you're a wag, Master Ranger, you're -but mum for that. Erit. Ran. I swear, my dear, you have the prettiest pair of eyes--the loveliest pouting lips-I never saw you before. Mil. No, sir! I was always in the shop. Run. Were you so?-Well, and what does your mistress say?————The devil fetch me, child, you looked so prettily, that I could not mind one word you said. Mil. Lard, sir, you are such another gentleman!-Why, she says, she is sorry she could not send them sooner. Shall I lay them down? Ran. No, child. Give them to me— -Dear little smiling angel [Catches, and kisses her. Mil. I beg, sir, you would be civil. Ran. It is to him, then, I am obliged for this visit but with all my heart. He is the only man to whom I don't care how much I am obliged. Bel. Your humble servant, sir. Frank. You know, Ranger, I want no inducement to be with you. But you look sadlyWhat- -no merciless jade has- -has she? Ran. No, no; sound as a roach, my lad. I only got a little too much liquor last night, which I have not slept off yet. Bel. Thus, Frankly, it is every day. All the morning his head aches; at noon, he begins to clear up; towards evening, he is good company; and all night, he is carefully providing for the same course the next day. Ran. Why, I must own, my ghostly father, I did relapse a little last night, just to furnish out a decent confession for the day. Frank. And he is now doing penance for it. Were you his confessor, indeed, you could not well desire more. Ran. Charles, he sets up for a confessor with indeed, some care were taken; and speedily there shall be-Yet, let me not be rash-Perhaps this disappointment of my heart may make me too impatient; and some tempers, when reproached, grow more untractable-Here she comesLet me be calm awhile. Enter LADY TOWNLY. Going out so soon after dinner, madam? Lady Town. Lard, my lord! what can I possibly do at home? Lord Town. What does my sister, Lady Grace, do at home? Lady Town. Why, that is to me amazing! Have you ever any pleasure at home? Lord Town. It might be in your power, madam, I confess, to make it a little more comfortable to me. Lady Town. Comfortable! And so, my good lord, you would really have a woman of my rank and spirit stay at home to comfort her husband! Lord! what notions of life some men have! Lord Town. Don't you think, madam, some ladies' notions are full as extravagant? Lady Town. Yes, my lord; when the tame doves live cooped within the pen of your precepts, I do think them prodigious indeed. Lord Town. And when they fly wild about this town, madam, pray, what must the world think of them, then? Lady Town. Oh! this world is not so ill-bred as to quarrel with any woman for liking it! Lord Town. Nor am I, madam, a husband so well-bred, as to bear my wife's being so fond of it in short, the life you lead, madam Lady Town. Is to me the pleasantest life in the world. Lord Town. I should not dispute your taste, madam, if a woman had a right to please nobody but herself. Lady Town. Why! whom would you have her please? Lord Town. Sometimes her husband. Lady Town. And don't you think a husband under the same obligation? Lord Town. Certainly. Lady Town. Why, then, we are agreed, my lord- For, if I never go abroad till I am weary of being at home-which you know is the case is it not equally reasonable, not to come home till one is weary of being abroad? Lord. Town. If this be your rule of life, madam, 'tis time to ask you one serious question. Lady Town. Don't let it be long a coming, then -for I am in haste. Lord Town. Madam, when I am serious, I expect a serious answer. Lady Town. Before I know the question? Lord Town. Psha!-Have I power, madam, to make you serious by entreaty? Lady Town. You have. Lord Town. And you promise to answer me sincerely? Lady Town. Sincerely. Lord Town. Now, then, recollect your thoughts, and tell me seriously why you married me? Lady Town. You insist upon truth, you say? Lord Town. I think I have a right to it. Lady Town. Why then, my lord, to give you, at once, a proof of my obedience and sincerity— I think-I married-to take off that restraint that lay upon my pleasures while I was a single woman. Lord Town. How, madam! is any woman under less restraint after marriage than before it? Lady Town. Oh, my lord, my lord! they are different creatures! Wives have infinite liberties in life, that would be terrible in an unmarried woman to take. Lord Town. Name one. Lady Town. Fifty, if you please-To begin, then in the morning-A married woman may have men at her toilet; invite them to dinner; appoint them a party in the stage-box at the play; engross the conversation there; call them by their christian names; talk louder than the players; from thence jaunt into the city; take a frolicsome supper at an India-House; perhaps, in her gaieté de cœur, toast a pretty fellow; then clatter again to this end of the town; break, with the morning, into an assembly; crowd to the hazard-table; throw a familiar levant upon some sharp, lurching man of quality, and, if he demands his money, turn it off with a loud laugh, and cry-you'll owe it him, to vex him, ha, ha! Lord Town. Prodigious! [Aside. Lady Town. These, now, my lord, are some few of the many modish amusements that distinguish the privilege of a wife, from that of a single woman. Lord Town. Death, madam! what law has made these liberties less scandalous in a wife, than in an unmarried woman? Lady Town. Why the strongest law in the world, custom-custom, time out of mind, my lord. Lord Town. Custom, madam, is the law of fools; but it shall never govern me. Lady Town. Nay, then, my lord, 'tis time for me to observe the laws of prudence. it. Lord Town. I wish I could see an instance of Lady Town. You shall have one this moment, my lord; for I think, when a man begins to lose his temper at home, if a woman has any prudence, why-she'll go abroad 'till he comes to himself again. [Going. Lord Town. Hold, madam- -I am amazed you are not more uneasy at the life you lead. You don't want sense, and yet seem void of all Enter MR STRICTLAND. Strict. Oh, your servant, madam! Here, I have received a letter from Mr Bellamy, wherein he desires I would once more hear what he has to say. You know my sentiments; nay, so does he. Jac. For Heaven's sake, consider, sir, this is no new affair, no sudden start of passion; we have known each other long. My father valued, and loved him; and, I am sure, were he alive, I should have his consent. Strict. Don't tell me. Your father would not have you marry against his will; neither will I against mine: I am your father now. Jac. And you take a fatherly care of me. Strict. I wish I had never had any thing to do with you. Jac. You may easily get rid of the trouble. Strict. By listening, I suppose, to the young gentleman's proposals? Jac. Which are very reasonable, in my opi nion. mit. I little imagined you could have been displeased at my having so agreeable a companion. Strict. There was a time, when I was company enough for leisure hours. Mrs Strict. There was a time, when every word of mine was sure of meeting with a smile; but those happy days, I know not why, have long been over. sex. Strict. I cannot bear a rival, even of your own Mrs Strict. Dear Mr Strictland- Mrs Strict. It grieves me, sir, to see you so much in earnest: but, to convince you how willing I am to make you easy in every thing, it shall be my request to her to remove immediately. Strict. Do it-hark ye-Your request !-Why yours? 'Tis mine-my command-tell her so. I will be master of my own family, and I care not who knows it. Strict. Oh, very modest ones truly! and a very Mrs Strict. You fright me, sir! But it shall be modest gentleman he is, that proposes them! A as you please.-[In tears.] [Goes out. fool, to expect a lady of thirty thousand pounds Strict. Ha! Have I gone too far? "for I am fortune, should, by the care and prudence of her not master of myself. Mrs Strictland !-[She guardian, be thrown away upon a young fellow returns.]—Understand me right. I do not mean, not worth three hundred a-year! He thinks be-by what I have said, that I suspect your innoing in love is an excuse for this; but I am not in cence; but, by crushing this growing friendship love: what does he think will excuse me? all at once, I may prevent a train of mischief Mrs Strict. Well; but, Mr Strictland, I think which you do not foresee. I was, perhaps, too the gentleman should be heard. harsh; therefore, do it in your own way: but let me see the house fairly rid of her. Strict. Well, well; seven o'clock's the time, and, if the man has had the good fortune, since I saw him last, to persuade somebody or other to give him a better estate, I give him my consent, not else. His servant waits below: you may tell him I shall be at home.-[Exit JACINTHA. But where is your friend, your other half, all this while? I thought you could not have breathed a minute, without your Clarinda. Mrs Strict. Why, the truth is, I was going to see what makes her keep her chamber so long. Strict. Look ye, Mrs Strictland; you have been asking me for money this morning. In plain terms, not one shilling shall pass through these fingers, till you have cleared my house of this Clarinda. Mrs Strict. How can her innocent gaiety have offended you? She is a woman of honour, and has as many good qualities Strict. As women of honour generally have.I know it, and therefore am uneasy. Mrs Strict. But, sir Strict. But, madam-Clarinda, nor e'er a rake of fashion in England, shall live in my family, to debauch it. Mrs Strict. Sir, she treated me with so much civility in the country, that I thought I could not do less than invite her to spend as much time with me in town as her engagements would per [Exit STRICTLAND. Mrs Strict. His earnestness in this affair amazes me; I am sorry I made this visit to Clarinda; and yet I'll answer for her honour. What can I say to her? Necessity must plead in my excuse-for, at all events, Mr Strictland must be obeyed. [Exit. SCENE III.-St James's Park. Enter BELLAMY and FRANKLY. Frank. Now, Bellamy, I may unfold the secret of my heart to you with greater freedom; for, though Ranger has honour, I am not in a humour to be laughed at. I must have one that will bear with my impertinence, sooth me into hope, and, like a friend indeed, with tenderness advise me. Bel. I thought you appeared more grave than usual. Frank. Oh, Bellamy! My soul is full of joy, of pain, hope, despair, and ecstacy, that no word but love is capable of expressing what I feel! Bel. Is love the secret Ranger is not fit to hear? In my mind, he would prove the more able counsellor. And is all the gay indifference of my friend at last reduced to love? Frank. Even so-Never was a prude more re Lady Grace. Pooh, you teaze one, brother! Lord Town. Come, I beg pardon, childthis is not a point, I grant you, to trifle upon; therefore, I hope you'll give me leave to be sc rious. Lady Grace. If you desire it, brother; though, upon my word, as to Mr Manly's having any serious thoughts of inee-I know nothing of it. Lord Town. Well-there's nothing wrong in your making a doubt of it-But, in short, I| find, by his conversation of late, that he has been looking round the world for a wife; and if you were to look round the world for a husband, he is the first man I would give to you. Lady Grace. Then, whenever he makes me any offer, brother, I will certainly tell you of it. Lord Town. Oh! that's the last thing he'll do: he'll never make you an offer, till he's pretty sure it won't be refused. Lady Grace. Now you make me curious. Pray, did he ever make any offer of that kind to you? Lord Town. Not directly; but that imports nothing he is a man too well acquainted with the female world to be brought into a high opinion of any one woman, without some well-examined proof of her merit; yet I have reason to believe, that your good sense, your turn of mind, and your way of life, have brought him to so favourable a one of you, that a few days will reduce him to talk plainly to me; which, as yet, (notwithstanding our friendship) I have neither declined nor encouraged him to. Lady Grace. I am mighty glad we are so near in our way of thinking; for, to tell you the truth, he is much upon the same terms with me: you know he has a satirical turn; but never lashes any folly, without giving due encomiums to its opposite virtue and, upon such occasions, he is sometimes particular, in turning his compliments upon me, which I don't receive with any reserve, lest he should imagine I take them to myself. Lord Town. You are right, child: when a man of merit makes his addresses, good sense may give him an answer, without scorn or coquetry. Lady Grace. Hush! he's here—— Enter MR MANLY. Man. My lord, your most obedient. Lord Town. Dear Manly, yours-I was thinking to send to you. Man. Then, I am glad I am here, my lordLady Grace, I kiss your hands—What, only you two! How many visits may a man make, before he falls into such unfashionable company? A brother and sister soberly sitting at home, when the whole town is a gadding! I question if there is so particular a tête à tête again, in the whole parish of St James's. Lady Grace. Fy, fy, Mr Manly! how censorious you are! Man. I had not made the reflection, madam, but that I saw you an exception to it-Where's my lady? Lord Town. That, I believe, is impossible to guess. Man. Then I won't try, my lord Lord Town. But, 'tis probable, I may hear of her, by the time I have been four or five hours in bed. Man. Now, if that were my case-I believe 1—But, I beg pardon, my lord. Lord Town. Indeed, sir, you shall not: you will oblige me if you speak out; for it was upon this head I wanted to see you. Man. Why then, my lord, since you oblige me to proceed-if that were my case-I believe I should certainly sleep in another house. Lady Grace. How do you mean? Man. Yes, madam, in rather turning myself out of doors than her. Lady Grace. Don't you think that would be going too far? Man. I don't know but it might, madam; for, in strict justice, I think she ought rather to go than I. Lady Grace. This is new doctrine, Mr Manly. Man. As old, madam, as love, honour, and obey. When a woman will stop at nothing that's wrong, why should a man balance any thing that's right? Lady Grace. Bless me! but this is fomenting things Man. Fomentations, madam, are sometimes necessary to dispel tumours: though I do not directly advise my lord to this-This is only what, upon the same provocation, I would do myself. Lady Grace. Ay, ay, you would do! Bachelors wives, indeed, are finely governed. Man. If the married men's were as well-I am apt to think we should not see so many mutual plagues taking the air in separate coaches. Lady Grace. Well, but suppose it your own case; would you part with your wife, because she now and then stays out in the best company? Lord Town. Well said, lady Grace! Come, stand up for the privilege of your sex. This is like to be a warm debate. I shall edify. Man. Madam, I think a wife, after midnight, has no occasion to be in better company than her husband's; and that frequent unreasonable hours make the best company-the worst she can fall into. Lady Grace. But if people of condition are to keep company with one another, how is it possible to be done, unless one conforms to their hours? Man. I can't find that any woman's good breeding obliges her to conform to other people's vices. Lord Town. I doubt, child, here we are got a little on the wrong side of the question. Lady Grace. Why so, my lord? I can't think the case so bad as Mr Manly states it-People |