Love. Po! fallen in love with some coquette, | medy; and what do you think he has done? He who plays off her airs, and makes a jest of has drawn the character of sir Amorous, and him. made him the hero of the play. Sir Bash. A young actress, may be, or an opera singer? Sir Bril. No; you will never guess. Sir Bashful-like a silly devil, he is fallen in love with his own wife. Sir Bash. Fallen in love with his own wife! [Stares at him. Sir Bril. Yes; he has made up all quarrels; his jealousy is at an end; and he is to be upon his good behaviour for the rest of his life.Could you expect this, Lovemore? Love. No, sir; neither I, nor my friend, sir Bashful, expected this. Sir Bash. It is a stroke of surprise to me. [Looking uneasy. Sir Bril. I heard it at my lady Betty Scandal's; and we had such a laugh! the whole company were in astonishment: whist stood still, quadrille laid down the cards, and brag was in in suspense. Poor sir Amorous! it is very ridiculous; is not it, sir Bashful? Sir Bash. Very ridiculous, indeed.--[Aside.] | My own case, exactly, and my friend Lovemore's, too. Sir Bril. The man is lost, undone, ruined, dead, and buried. Love. [Laughing.] He will never be able to shew his face after this discovery. Sir Bril. Oh, never, 'tis all over with him. Sir Bashful, this does not divert you; you don't enjoy it. Sir Bash. Who, I?-I-I-nothing can be more pleasant, and--laugh as heartily as I possibly can. [Forcing a laugh. Sir Bril. Lovemore, you remember Sir Amorous used to strut, and talk big, and truly he did not care a pinch of snuff for his wife, not he! pretended to be as much at case as sir Bashful about his lady, and as much his own master as you yourself, or any man of pleasure about town. Love. I remember him: But as to sir Bashful and myself, we know the world; we understand life. Sir Bash. So we do; the world will never have such a story of us. Will they, Lovemore? Love. Oh! we are free; we are out of the scrape. Sir Bril. Sir Amorous la Fool will be a proverb. Adieu, for him, the side-box whisper, the soft assignation, and all the joys of freedom! He is retired with his Penelope to love one another in the country; and next winter they will come to town to hate one another. Sir Bash. Do you think it will end so? Sir Brit. No doubt of it. That is always the denouement of modern matrimony. But I have not told you the worst of his case. Our friend, sir Charles Wildfire, you know, was writing a co Sir Bash. What! put him into a comedy? Sir Bril. Even so. It is called, The Amorous Husband; or, The Man in Love with his own wife.' Oh! oh! oh! oh! Love. We must send in time for places. [Laughs with SIR BRILLIANT. Sir Bash. Loveinore carries it with an air. [Aside. Sir Bril. Yes, we must secure places. Sir Bashful, you shall be of the party. Sir Bash. The party will be very agreeable. I shall enjoy the joke prodigiously! Ha! ha! mour. [Forces a laugh. Love. Yes, sir Bashful, we shall relish the hu [Looks at him, and laughs. Sir Bril. The play will have a run: the people of fashion will crowd after such a character. I must drive to a million of places, and put it about; but first, with your leave, sir Bashful, I will take the liberty to give a hint of the affair to your lady. It will appear so ridiculous to her. Sir Bash. Do you think it will? Sir Bril. Without doubt: she has never met with any thing like it: has she, Lovemore? Love. I fancy not: Sir Bashful, you take care of that. Sir Bash. Yes, yes: I shall never be the towntalk.-Hey, Lovemore! Sir Bril. Well, I'll step and pay my respects to my lady Constant. Poor sir Amorous! he will have his horns added to his coat of arms in a little time. Ha! ha! [Exit. Sir Bash. There, you see how it is. I shall get lampooned, be-rhymed, and niched into a comedy. Love. Po! never be frightened at this. Nobody knows of your weakness but myself; and I can't betray your secret for my own sake. Sir Bash. Very true. Love. This discovery shews the necessity of concealing our loves. We must act with caution. Give my lady no reason to suspect that you have the least kinduess for her. Sir Bash. Not for the world. Sir Bash. I have done her a thousand kindnesses, but all by stealth; all in a sly way. Love. Have you? Sir Bash. Oh! a multitude. I'll tell you. She has been plaguing me a long time for an addition to her jewels. She wants a diamond cross, and a better pair of diamond buckles. Madam, says I, I will have no such trumpery; but then goes I, and bespeaks them of the first jeweller in town-all under the rose. The buckles are finished: worth five hundred! She will have them this very day, without knowing from what quarter they come--I can't but laugh at the contri Enter SIR BRILLIANT. vance the man that brings them will run away directly, without saying a word. Love. Sly, slyabout. [Laughs heartily. -You know what you are Sir Bash. Ay, let me alone-[Laughs with LOVEMORE.] And then, to cover the design still more, when I see her wear her baubles, I can take occasion to be as jealous as bedlam. Love. So you can: ha! ha!-[Aside.] I wish he may never be jealous of me in good ear nest. Sir Bash. Give me your hand. [Looks at him, and laughs.] I am safe, I think? Love. [Laughing with him.] Perfectly safe[Aside.] if it was not for his own folly, Sir Bash. But I was telling you, Mr Lovemore-we can be of essential use to each other. Love. As low, pray? Sir Bush. Why, my lady is often in want of money. It would be ridiculous in me to supply her. Now, if you will take the money from me, and pretend to lend it to her, out of friendship, you know Love. Nothing can be better-[Aside.] Here is a fellow pimping for his own horns.I shall be glad to serve you. Sir Bash. I am for ever obliged to you-here, here; take it now-here it is in bank-notesone, two, three; there is three hundred-give her that, and tell her you have more at her service to-morrow, or next day, if her occasions require it. Love. My good friend, to oblige you. [Takes the money. This is the rarest adventure! Sir Bash. I'll do any thing for you in return. Love. I shall have occasion for your friendship that is, to forgive me, if you find me out. [Aside. Sir Bash, Lose no time; step to her nowhold, hold; sir Brilliant is with her. Love. I can dismiss him. Rely upon my friendship: I will make her ladyship easy for you. Sir Bash. It will be kind of you. Love. It shall be her own fault if I don't. Sir Bush. A thousand thanks to you—well, is not this the rarest project? Love. It is the newest way of satisfying a man's wife! Sir Bril. Sir Bashful, how have you managed this? Sir Bash. I have no art, no management. What's the matter? Sir Bril. I don't know what you have done, but your lady laughs till she is ready to expire at what I have been telling her. Sir Bash. And she thiuks sir Amorous la Fool an object of ridicule? Sir Bril. She does not give credit to a single syllable of the story. A man that loves his wife would be a Phoenix indeed! Such a thing might exist formerly, but, in this polished age, is no where to be found, That's her opinion of the matter. Sir Bash. [Laughs.] A whimsical notion of hers! and so she thinks you may go about with a lanthorn to find a man that sets any value upon his wife? Sir Bril. You have managed to convince her of it. How the devil do you contrive to govern so fine a woman? I know several, without her pretensions, who have long ago thrown off all restraint. You keep up your dignity. Sir Bash. Yes, I know what I am about. Sir Bril. You!—you are quite in the fashion. -Apropos; I fancy I shall want you to afford me your assistance. You know my lady Charlotte Modelove? She has a taste for the theatre: at Bell-Grove Place she has an elegant stage, where her select friends amuse themselves now and then with a representation of certain comic pieces. We shall there act the new comedy but we apprchend some difficulty in the arrangement of the several characters. Now, you shall act sir Amorous, and Sir Bush. I act, sir !—I know nothing of the character. Sir Bril. Po! say nothing of that. In time you may reach the ridiculous absurdity of it, and play it as well as another. Sir Bash. [Aside.] Confusion! he does not suspect, I hope-divert yourselves, sir, as you may; but not at my expence I promise you. Sir Bril. Never be so abrupt. Who knows but lady Constant may be the happy wife, the Cara Sposa of the piece! and then, you in love with her, and she laughing at you for it, will give a zest to the humour, which every body will re Sir Bash. Ay! let this head of mine alone. I hear sir Brilliant; he is coming down stairs. Sir Bash. Po! this is too much. You are Sir Bush. Do so, do so. Love. I am gone. [Aside.] Who can blame me now, if I cuckold this fellow? Sir Bril. Well, consider of it. I shall be delighted to see my friend sir Bashful tied to his wife's apronstring, and, with a languishing look, Sir Bash. Prosper you, prosper you, Mr Love-melting away in admiration of her charins. Oh, more. Make me thankful! he is a true friend. ho, ho, ho!-adieu; a l'honneur; good morn [Exit. I don't know what I should do without him. ing, sir Bashful. [Exit. the worst grace in the world. Here has he been reproving me for being but decently civil to my miliner. Plagne! because the coldness of his constitution makes him insensible of a fine woman's charms every body else must be so, too. Bel. I am no less sensible of their charms than you are; though I cannot kiss every woman I meet, or fall in love, as you call it, with every face which has the bloom of youth upon it. I would only have you a little more frugal of your pleasures. Frank. My dear friend, this is very pretty talking! But, let me tell you, it is in the power of the very first glance from a fine woman, utterly to disconcert all your philosophy. Bel. It must be from a fine woman, then; and not such as are generally reputed so. And it must be a thorough acquaintance with her, too, that will ever make an impression on my heart. Ran. Would I could see it once! For when a man has been all his life hoarding up a stock, without allowing himself common necessaries, it tickles me to the soul to see him lay it all out upon a wrong bottom, and become bankrupt at last. Bel. Well, I don't care how soon you see it. For the minute I find a woman capable of friendship, love, and tenderness, with good sense enough to be always easy, and good-nature enough to like me, I will immediately put it to the trial, which of us shall have the greatest share of happiness from the sex, you or I. Ran. By marrying her, I suppose! Capable of friendship, love, and tenderness! ha, ha, ha! that a man of your sense should talk so! If she be capable of love, 'tis all I require of my mistress; and as every woman, who is young, is capable of love, I am very reasonably in love with every young woman I meet. My Lord Coke, in a case I read this morning, speaks my sense. Both. My lord Coke! Kan. Yes, My lord Coke. What he says of one woman, I say of the whole sex: I take their bodies, you their minds; which has the better bargain? Fran. There is no arguing with so great a lawyer. Suppose, therefore, we adjourn the dehate to some other time. I have some serious business with Mr Bellamy, and you want sleep, I SCENE II.-A chamber. Enter MRS STRICTLAND and JACINTHA, meeting. Mrs Strict. Good-morrow, my dear Jacintha. Jac. Good-morrow to you, madam. I have brought my work, and intend to sit with you this morning. I hope you have got the better of your fatigue? Where is Clarinda? I should be glad if she would come and work with us. Mrs Strict. She work! she is too fine a lady to do any thing. She is not stirring yet—we must let her have her rest. People of her waste of spirits require more time to recruit again. Jac. It is pity she should be ever tired with what is so agreeable to every body else. I am prodigiously pleased with her company. Mrs Strict. And when you are better acquainted, you will be still more pleased with her. You must rally her upon her partner at Bath; for I fancy part of her rest has been disturbed on his account. Jac. Was he really a pretty fellow? Mrs Strict. That I cannot tell; I did not dance myself, and so did not much mind him. You must have the whole story from herself. Jac. Oh, I warrant ye, I get it all out. None are so proper to make discoveries in love, as those who are in the secret themselves. Enter LUCETTA. Luc. Madam, Mr Strictland is inquiring for you. Here has been Mr Buckle with a letter from his master, which has made him very an gry. Jac. Mr Bellamy said, indeed, he would try him once more, but I fear it will prove in vain. Tell your master I am here.-[Exit LUCETTA.]What signifies fortune, when it only makes us slaves to other people? Mrs Strict. Do not be uneasy, my Jacintha. You shall always find a friend in me: but as for Mr Strictland, I know not what ill temper hangs about him lately. Nothing satisfies him. You saw how he received us when we came off our journey. Though Clarinda was so good company, he was barely civil to her, and downright rude to me. Jac. I cannot help saying, I did observe it. Mrs Strict. I saw you did. Hush! he's here. 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 opinion. Strict. Oh, very modest ones truly! and a very modest gentleman he is, that proposes them! A fool, to expect a lady of thirty thousand pounds fortune, should, by the care and prudence of her guardian, be thrown away upon a young fellow not worth three hundred a-year! He thinks being in love is an excuse for this; but I am not in love: what does he think will excuse me? Mrs Strict. Well; but, Mr Strictland, I think the gentleman should be heard. 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 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 I hate the very name of female friends.No two of you can ever be an hour by yourselves, but one or both are the worse for it. Mrs Strict. Dear Mr Strictland. Strict. This I know, and will not suffer. 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. I Strict. Do it-hark ye-Your request !—Why yours? 'Tis mine-my command-tell her so. will be master of my own family, and I care not who knows it. Mrs Strict. You fright me, sir! But it shall be as you please.-[In tears.] [Goes out. Strict. Ha! Have I gone too far? "for I am not master of myself. Mrs Strictland !-[She returns.]-Understand me right. I do not mean, by what I have said, that I suspect your innocence; but, by crushing this growing friendship all at once, I may prevent a train of mischief which you do not foresee. I was, perhaps, too harsh; therefore, do it in your own way but let me see the house fairly rid of her. [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 solute in chastity and ill-nature, than I was fixed in indifference; but love has raised me from that inactive state, above the being of a man. Bel. Faith, Charles, I begin to think it has: but, pray, bring this rapture into order a little, and tell me regularly, how, where, and when. Frank. If I was not most unreasonably in love, those horrid questions would stop my mouth at once; but, as I am armed against reason-I answer-at Bath, on Tuesday, she danced and caught me. Bel. Danced! And was that all? But who is she? What is her name? Her fortune? Where does she live? Frank. Hold! Hold! Not so many hard questions. Have a little mercy. I know but little of her, that's certain; but all I do know, you shall have. That evening was the first of her appearing at Bath; the moment I saw her, I resolved to ask the favour of her hand; but the easy freedom with which she gave it, and her unaffected good humour during the whole night, gained such a power over my heart, as none of her sex could ever boast before. I waited on her home; and the next morning, when I went to pay the usual compliments, the bird was flown; she had set out for London two hours before, and in a chariot and six, you rogue! Bel. But was it her own, Charles? Frank. That I don't know; but it looks better than being dragged to town in the stage.That day and the next I spent in inquiries. I waited on the ladies who came with her; they knew nothing of her. So, without learning either her name or fortune, I e'en called for my boots, and rode post after her. Bel. And how do you find yourself after your journey? Frank. Why, as yet, I own, I am but on a cold scent: but a woman of her sprightliness and gentility, cannot but frequent all public places; and, when once she is found, the pleasure of the chase will overpay the pains of rousing her. Oh, Bellamy! There was something peculiarly charming in her, that seemed to claim my further acquaintance; and if, in the more familiar parts of life, she shines with that superior lustre, and at last I win her to my arms, how shall I bless my resolution in pursuing her! Bel. But if, at last, she should prove unworthy Frank. I would endeavour to forget her. Bel. Promise me that, Charles,-[Takes his hand.]-and I allow-But we are interrupted. Enter JACK MEGGOT. J. Meg. Ha! Whose that? Frank. A friend of mine. Mr Bellamy, this is Jack Meggot, sir; as honest a fellow as any in life. J. Meg. Pho! Prithee! Pox! CharlesDon't be silly-Sir, I am your humble: any one who is a friend of my Frankly's, I am proud of embracing. Bel. Sir, I shall endeavour to deserve your civility. J. Meg. Oh, sir! Well, Charles; what, dumb? Come, come; you may talk, though you have nothing to say, as I do. Let us hear, where have you been? Frank. Why, for this last week, Jack, I have been at Bath. J. Meg. Bath! the most ridiculous place in life! amongst tradesmen's wives that hate their husbands, and people of quality that had rather go to the devil than stay at home. People of no taste; no gout; and, for devertimenti, if it were not for the puppet-show, la vertu would be dead amongst them. But the news, Charles; the ladies-I fear your time hung heavy on your hands, by the small stay you made there. Frank. Faith, and so it did, Jack; the ladies are grown such idiots in love. The cards have so debauched their five senses, that love, almighty love himself, is utterly neglected. J. Meg. It is the strangest thing in life, but it is just so with us abroad. Faith, Charles, to tell you a secret, which I don't care if all the world knows, I am almost surfeited with the services of the ladies; the modest ones, I mean. The vast variety of duties they expect, as dressing up to the fashion, losing fashionably, keeping fashionable hours, drinking fashionable liquors, and fifty other such irregular niceties, so ruin a man's pocket and constitution, that, 'foregad, he must have the estate of a duke, and the strength of a gondolier, who would list himself into their service. Frank. A free confession, truly, Jack, for one of your coat! Bel. The ladies are obliged to you. Enter BUCKLE, with a letter to BELLAMY. J. Meg. Oh, Lard, Charles! I have had the greatest misfortune in life since I saw you; poor Otho, that I brought from Rome with me, is dead! Frank. Well, well; get you another, and all will be well again. J. Meg. No; the rogue broke me so much china, and gnawed my Spanish leather shoes so filthily, that, when he was dead, I began not to endure him. J. Meg. Whom have we here? My old friend Frankly! Thou art grown a mere antique since I saw thee. How hast thou done these five hun-him dred years? Frank. Even as you see me; well, and at your service ever. Bel. Exactly at seven! run back and assure I will not fail.-[Exit BUCKLE.]-Dead! Pray, who was the gentleman? J. Meg. The gentleman was my monkey, sir; an odd sort of a fellow, that used to divert me, |