venient. Jac. Ha! Ran. Therefore I beg you would procure me a lodging; 'tis no matter how far off my guardian's. Yours, Jacintha. Jac. You know by this, that I am acquainted you this evening, because I know it is inconwith every thing that has passed within, and how ill it agrees with what you have professed to me. Let me advise you, sir, to be gone immediately through that window, you may easily get into the street. One scream of mine, the least noise at that door, will wake the house. Ran. Say you so? [Aside. Jac. Believe me, sir, an injured husband is not so easily appeased, and a suspected wife that is jealous of her honour Ran. Is the devil; and so let's have no more of her. Look ye, madam, [Getting between the door and her.] I have but one argument left, and that is a strong one. Look on me well; I am as handsome, a strong, well made fellow as any about town; and, since we are alone, as I take it, we can have no occasion to be more private. it. [Going to lay hold of her. Jac. I have a reputation, sir, and will maintain Ran. You have a bewitching pair of eyes. Jac. Consider my virtue. [Struggling. Ran. Consider your beauty, and my desires. Jac. If I were a man, you dared not use me thus. Ran. I should not have the same temptation. Jac. Hear me, sir; I will be heard. [Breaks from him.] There is a man who will make you repent this usage of me. Oh, Bellamy! where art thou now? me. Ran. Bellamy! Jac. Were he here, you durst not thus affront [Bursting into tears. Ran. His mistress, on my soul! [Aside.] You can love, madam; you can love, I find. Her tears affect me strangely. [Aside. Juc. I am not ashamed to own my passion for a man of virtue and honour. I love, and glory in it. Ran. Oh, brave! and you can write letters, you can. I will not trust myself home with SCENE I.-The Piazza. Jac. The very words of my letter! I am amazed! Do you know Mr Bellamy? : Run. There is not a man on earth I have so great a value for and he must have some value for me, too, or he would never have shewn me your pretty epistle; think of that, fair lady. The ladder is at the window, and so, madam, I hope delivering you safe into his arms, wili, in some measure, expiate the crime I have been guilty of to you. Jac. Good Heaven! How fortunate is this! Ran. I believe I make myself appear more wicked than I really am. For, damn me, if I do not feel more satisfaction in the thoughts of restoring you to my friend, than I could have pleasure in any favour your bounty could have bestowed. Let any other rake lay his hand upon his heart, and say the same. Jac. Your generosity transports me! Ran. At my friend Jacky's! better and better still. Jac. Are you acquainted with him, too? Ran. Ay, ay; why, did I not tell you at first, that I was one of your old acquaintance? I know all about you, you sec; though the devil fetch me if ever I saw you before! Now, madam, give me your hand. Jac. And now, sir, have with you. Ran. Then thou art a girl of spirit. And though I long to hug you for trusting yourself .with me, I will not beg a single kiss, till Bellamy himself shall give me leave. He must fight well, that takes you from me. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Enter BELLAMY and FRANKLY. Bel. PSHA! what impertinent devil put it into your head to meddle with my affairs? Frank. You know I went thither in pursuit of another. Bel. I know nothing you had to do there at all. Frank. I thought, Mr Bellamy, you were a lover. Bel. I am so; and therefore should be forgiven this sudden warmth. Bel. Jealousy, you know, is as natural an incident to love Frank. As curiosity. By one piece of silly curiosity, I have gone nigh to ruin both myself and you; let not, then, your jealousy complete our misfortunes. I fear I have lost a mistress as well as you. Then let us not quarrel. All may come right again. Bel. It is impossible. She is gone, removed for ever from my sight: she is in the country by this time. Frank. How did you lose her after we part- ed? Frank. And therefore should forgive the fond her to my chair, the chairmen were not to be impertinence of a lover. VOL. II. found. And, safe as I thought in our disguise, 4 T ever have any thoughts of me, that could lay down such severe rules upon wives in my hear ng. Lord Town. Did you think his rules unreasonable? Lady Grace. I can't say I did; but he might have had a little more complaisance before me, at least. Lord Town. Complaisance is only a proof of good breeding, but his plainness was a certain proof of his honesty; nay, of his good opinion of you: for he would never have opened himself so freely, but in confidence that your good sense could not be disobliged at it. is. Lady Grace. My good opinion of him, brother, has hitherto been guided by yours: but I have received a letter this morning, that shews him a very different man from what I thought him. Lord Town. A letter! from whom? Lady Grace. That I don't know; but there it [Gives a letter. Lord Town. Pray, let's see. [Reads.] 'The in'closed, madam, fell accidentally into my hands; if it no way concerns you, you will only have 'the trouble of reading this, from your sincere friend, and humble servant, Unknown,' &c. Lady Grace. And this was the inclosed. [Gives another. Lord Town. [Reads.] To Charles Manly, Esq.-Your manner of living with me of late, 'convinces me that I now grow as painful to you as to myself: but, however, though you can 'love me no longer, I hope you will not let me live worse than I did, before I left an honest income for the vain hopes of being ever yours. MYRTILLA DUPE.' 'P. S. Tis above four months since I received 6 a shilling from you.' Lady Grace. What think you now? Lady Grace. You see it's directed to himLord Town. That's true; but the postscript seems to be a reproach that I think he is not capable of deserving. Lady Grace. But who could have concern enough to send it to me? Lord Town. I have observed that these sort of letters, from unknown friends, generally come from secret enemies. Lady Grace. What would you have me do in it ? Lord Town. What I think you ought to do— fairly shew it to him, and say I advised you to it. Lady Grace. Will not that have a very odd look from me? Lord Town. Not at all, if you use my name in it; if he is innocent, his impatience to appear so will discover his regard to you. If he is guilty, it will be the best way of preventing his addresses. Lady Grace. But what pretence have I to put him out of countenance? Lord Town. I can't think there's any fear of that. Lady Grace. Pray, what is it you do think, then? Lord Town. Why, certainly, that it's much more probable this letter may be all an artifice, than that he is in the least concerned in it— Enter a Servant. Ser. Mr Manly, my lord. Lord Town. Do you receive him, while I step a minute in to my lady. [Exit LORD TOWNLY. Enter MANLY. Man. Madam, your most obedient; they told me my lord was here. Lady Grace. He will be here presently; he is but just gone in to my sister. Man. So, then, my lady dines with us? Man. I hope you are not of her party, madam? Man. And, pray, how may she have disposed of the rest of the day? Lady Grace. Much as usual; she has visits till about eight; after that, till court-time, she is to be at quadrille, at Mrs Idle's; after the drawing-room, she takes a short supper with my lady Moonlight; and, from thence, they go together to my lord Noble's assembly. Man. And are you to do all this with her, ma dam? Lady Grace. Only a few of the visits: I would, indeed, have drawn her to the play; but I doubt we have so much upon our hands, that it will not be practicable. Man. But how can you forbear all the rest of it? Lady Grace. There's no great merit in forbearing what oue is not charmed with. Man. And, yet, I have found that very difficult in my time. Lady Grace. How do you mean? Man. Why, I have passed a great deal of my life in the hurry of the ladies, though I was generally better pleased when I was at quiet without them. Lady Grace. What induced you, then, to be with them? Man. Idleness, and the fashion. Lady Grace. No mistresses in the case? Man. To speak honestly-yes-Being often in the toy-shop, there was no forbearing the baubles. Lady Grace. And of course, I suppose, sometimes you were tempted to pay for them twice as much as they were worth? Man. Why, really, where fancy only makes the choice, madam, no wonder if we are generally bubbled in those sort of bargains; which, I confess, has been often my case: for I had constantly some coquette or other upon my hands, whom I could love, perhaps, just enough to put it in her power to plague me. Lady Grace. And that's a power, I doubt, commonly made use of. Man. The amours of a coquette, madam, seldom have any other view; I look upon them and prudes to be nuisances just alike, though they seem very different: the first are always plaguing the men, and the others are always abusing the women. Lady Grace. And yet both of them do it for the same vain ends; to establish a false character of being virtuous. Man. Of being chaste, they mean; for they know no other virtue; and, upon the credit of that, they traffic in every thing else that's vicious. They (even against nature) keep their chastity, only because they find they have more power to do mischief with it, than they could possibly put in practice without it. Lady Grace. Hold, Mr Manly! I am afraid this severe opinion of the sex is owing to the ill choice you have made of your mistresses. Man. In a great measure it may be so; but, madam, if both these characters are so odious, how vastly valuable is that woman, who has attained all they aim at, without the aid of the folly or vice of either! Lady Grace. I believe those sort of women to be as scarce, sir, as the men that believe there are any such; or that, allowing such, have virtue enough to deserve them. Man. That could deserve them, then-had been a more favourable reflection. will not give me an instance to the contrary, by refusing the favour I am going to ask you. Lady Grace. I don't believe I shall refuse any that you think proper to ask. Man. Only this, madam, to indulge me so far as to let me know how this letter came into your hand. Lady Grace. Inclosed to me in this, without a name. Mun. If there be no secret in the contents, madam Lady Grace. Why-there is an impertinent insinuation in it: but as I know your good sense will think it so, too, I will venture to trust you. Man. You will oblige me, madam. [He takes the other letter, and reads: Lady Grace, [Aside.] Now am I in the oddest situation! methinks our conversation grows terribly critical. This must produce somethingOh, lud! would it were over. Man. Now, madam, I begin to have some light into the poor project that is at the bottom of all this. Lady Grace. I have no notion of what could be proposed by it. Man. A little patience, madam-First, as to the insinuation you mention Lady Grace. O! what is he going to say now? Aside. Man. Though my intimacy with my lord may have allowed my visits to have been very frequent here of late; yet, in such a talking town as this, you must not wonder if a great many of those visits are placed to your account; and this, Lady Grace. Nay, I speak only from my little taken for granted, I suppose, has been told to my experience; for (I'll be free with you, Mr Man- Lady Wronghead, as a piece of news, since her ly) I don't know a man in the world, that, in ap-arrival, not improbably with many more imagipearance, might better pretend to a woman of nary circumstances. the first merit than yourself: and yet, I have a reason in my hand, here, to think you have your failings. Lady Grace. My lady Wronghead! Man. Ay, madam; for I am positive this is her hand. Lady Grace. What view could she have in writing it? Man. To interrupt any treaty of marriage she may have heard I am engaged in; because, if I die without heirs, her family expects that some part of my estate may return to them again.— But I hope she is so far mistaken, that if this letter has given you the least uneasiness --I shall think that the happiest moment of my life. Lady Grace. That does not carry your usual complaisance, Mr Manly! Man. Yes, madam, because I am sure I can convince you of my innocence, Lady Grace. I am sure I have no right to inquire into it. Man. Suppose you may not, madam; yet you may, very innocently, have so much curiosity. Lady Grace. With what an artful gentleness he steals into my opinion! [Aside.] Well, sir, [ won't pretend to have so little of the woman in me, as to want curiosity-But, pray, do you sup pose, then, this Myrtilla is a real, or a fictitious | mighty pleasant: but, for fear of the worst, maname? dain, she whispered me—to get her chair ready. [Exit TRUSTY. Lady Grace. Oh, here they come! and, by their looks, seem a little unfit for company. Man. Now I recollect, madam, there is a mystery, that, before I ever presume to see your up. Lady Grace. Nay, but dinner's just coming [Exit LADY GRACE. Enter LADY TOWNLY, LORD TOWNLY following. Lady Town. Well, look you, my lord, I can bear it no longer; nothing still but about my faults, my faults: an agreeable subject, truly! Lord Town. Why, madam, if you won't hear of them, how can I ever hope to see you mend them? Lady Town. Why, I don't intend to mend them Man. Madam, I can neither eat nor rest, till I-I can't mend them-you know I have tried to do it a hundred times-and-it hurts me so see an end of this affair. Lady Grace. But this is so odd! why should-I can't bear it. any silly curiosity of mine drive you away? Man. Since you won't suffer it to be yours, madam, then it shall be only to satisfy my own curiosity[Exit MAN. Lady Grace. Well-and now, what am I to think of all this? Or, suppose an indifferent person had heard every word we have said to one another, what would they have thought on't?Would it have been very absurd to conclude, he is seriously inclined to pass the rest of his life with me? I hope not-for I am sure the case is terribly clear on my side; and why may not I, without vanity, suppose my unaccountable somewhat has done as much execution upon him? Why-because he never told me so-nay, he has not so much as mentioned the word love, or ever said one civil thing to my person-well ---but he has said a thousand to my good opininion, and has certainly got it—had he spoke first to my person, he had paid a very ill compliment to my understanding-I should have thought him impertinent, and never have troubled my head about him; but, as he has managed the matter, at least I am sure of one thing, that let his thoughts be what they will, I shall never trouble my head about any other man as long as I live. Enter MRS TRUSTY. Well, Mrs Trusty, is my sister dressed yet? Trusty. Yes, madam; but my lord has been courting her so, I think, till they are both out of humour. Lord Town. And I, madam, can't bear this daily licentious abuse of your time and charac ter. Lady Town. Abuse! astonishing! when the universe knows I am never better company than when I am doing what I have a mind to! But to see this world! that men can never get over that silly spirit of contradiction-Why, but last Thursday, now,-there you wisely amended one of my faults, as you call them--you insisted upon my not going to the masquerade—and, pray, what was the consequence? Was not I as cross as the devil all the night after? Was not I forced to get company at home? And was it not almost three o'clock in the morning before I was able to come to myself again! And then the fault is not mended neither for next time I shall only have twice the inclination to go: so that all this mending, and mending, you see, is but darning an old ruffle, to make it worse than it was before. Lord Town. Well, the manner of women's living of late is insupportable; and one way or other Lady Town. It's to be mended, I suppose? why, so it may: but then, my dear lord, you must give one time—and when things are at worst, you know, they may mend themselves, ha, ha! Lord Town. Madam, I am not in a humour now to trifle. Lady Town. Why then, my lord, one word of fair argument-to talk with you in your own way, now-You complain of my late hours, and Lady Grace. How so? I of your early ones-so far we are even, you'll Trusty. Why, it began, madam, with his lord-allow-But pray, which gives us the best figure ship's desiring her ladyship to dine at home to day-upon which, my lady said she could not be ready; upon that, my lord ordered them to stay the dinner; and then my lady ordered the coach: then my lord took her short, and said he had ordered the coachman to set up; then my lady made him a great curtsey, and said she would wait till his lordship's horses had dined, and was in the eye of the polite world? my active, spirited three in the morning, or your dull, drowsy eleven at night? Now, I think, one has the air of a woman of quality, and t'other of a plodding mechanic, that goes to bed betimes, that he may rise early to open his shop--Faugh! Lord Town. Fy, fy, madam! is this your way of reasoning? 'tis time to wake you, then- 'Tis not your ill hours alone that disturb me, but as often the ill company that occasion those ill hours. Lady Town. Sure I don't understand you now, my lord; what ill company do I keep? Lord Town. Why, at best, women that lose their money, and men that win it; or, perhaps, men that are voluntary bubbles at one game, in hopes a lady will give them fair play at another. Then, that uuavoidable mixture with known rakes, concealed thieves, and sharpers in embroidery-or, what, to me, is still more shocking, that herd of familiar, chattering, crop-eared coxcombs, who are so often like monkeys, there would be no knowing them asunder, but that their tails hang from their heads, and the monkey's grows where it should do. Lady Town. And a husband must give eminent proof of his sense, that thinks these powder-puffs dangerous. Lord Town. Their being fools, madam, is not always the husband's security; or, if it were, fortune sometimes gives them advantages that might make a thinking woman tremble. Lady Town. What do you mean? Lord Town. That women sometimes lose more than they are able to pay and if a creditor be a little pressing, the lady may be reduced to try, if, instead of gold, the gentleman will accept of a trinket. Lady Town. My lord, you grow scurrilous; you'll make me hate you. I'll have you to know, I keep company with the politest people in town; and the assemblies I frequent are full of such. Lord Town. So are the churches-now and then. patience!-I won't come home till four to-morrow morning. Lord Town. That may be, madam; but I'll order the doors to be locked at twelve. Lady Town. Then I won't come home till tomorrow night. Lord Town. Then, madam-you shall never come home again. [Exit LORD TOWNLY. Lady Town. What does he mean? I never heard such a word from him in my life before! The man always used to have manners in his worst humours. There's something, that I don't see, at the bottom of all this-But his head's always upon some impracticable scheme or other; so I won't trouble mine any longer about him. Mr Manly, your servant. Enter MANLY. Man. I ask pardon for intrusion, madam; but I hope my business with my lord will excuse it. Lady Town. I believe you'll find him in the next room, sir. Man. Will you give me leave, madam ? Lady Town. Sir-you have my leave, though you were a lady. Man. [Aside.] What a well-bred age do we live in ! [Exit MANLY. Enter LADY GRACE. Lady Town. Oh, my dear lady Grace! how could you leave me so unmercifully alone all this while? Lady Grace. I thought my lord had been with you. Lady Town. Why, yes-and therefore I wanted your relief; for he has been in such a flutter Lady Town. My friends frequent them, too, as here well as the assemblies. Lord Town. Yes, and would do it oftener, if a groom of the chambers were there allowed to furnish cards to the company. Lady Town. I see what you drive at all this while: you would lay an imputation on my fame, to cover your own avarice. I might take any pleasures, I find, that were not expensive. Lord Town. Have a care, madam; don't let me think you only value your chastity to make me reproachable for not indulging you in every thing else that's vicious-I, madam, have a reputation, too, to guard, that's dear to me as yours-The follies of an ungoverned wife may make the wisest man uneasy; but 'tis his own fault, if ever they make him contemptible, Lady Town. My lord--you would make a woman mad! Lord Town. You'd make a man a fool! Lady Town. If Heaven has made you otherwise, that won't be in my power. Lord Town. Whatever may be in your inclination, madam, I'll prevent your making me a beggar, at least. Lady Town. A beggar! Croesus! I'm out of Lady Grace. Bless me! for what? Lady Town. Only our usual breakfast; we have each of us had our dish of matrimonial comfort this morning-We have been charming company! Lady Grace. I am mighty glad of it: sure it must be a vast happiness, when a man and a wife can give themselves the same turn of conversation! Lady Town. Oh, the prettiest thing in the world! Lady Grace. Now I should be afraid, that where two people are every day together so, they must often be in the want of something to talk upon. Lady Town. Oh, my dear, you are the most mistaken in the world! married people have things to talk of, child, that never enter into the imagination of others. Why, here's my lord and I, now, we have not been married above two short years, you know, and we have already eight or ten things constantly in bank, that, whenever we want company, we can take up any one of them for two hours together, and the subject never the flatter; nay, if we have occassion for it, |