cases. They must happen in all families. But | when things are driven to extremities—to see a woman in uneasiness-a woman one loves, too— one's wife, who can withstand it? You neither think nor speak like a man that has loved, and been married, major! Maj. I wish I could hear a married man speak my language-I'm a bachelor, it's true; but I am no bad judge of your case, for all that. I know yours, and Mrs Oakly's disposition to a hair.She is all impetuosity and fire-a very magazine of touchwood and gunpowder. You are hot enough, too, upon occasion; but then, it's over in an instant. In come love and conjugal affection, as you call it; that is, mere folly and weakness-And you draw off your forces, just when you should pursue the attack, and follow your advantage. Have at her with spirit, aud the day's your own, brother! Oak. I tell you, brother, you mistake the matter. Sulkiness, fits, tears! These, and such as these, are the things which make a feeling man uneasy. Her passion and violence have not half such an effect on me. Maj. Why, then, you may be sure, she'll play that upon you, which she finds does most execution. But you must be proof against every thing. If she's furious, set passion against passion; if you find her at her tricks, play off art against art, and foil her at her own weapons. That's your game, brother! Ouk. Why, what would you have me do? Maj. Do as you please, for one month, whether she likes it or not; and, I'll answer for it, she will consent you shall do as you please all her life after. Oak. This is fine talking. You do not consider the difficulty that As Maj. You must overcome all difficulties. sert your right boldly, man! Give your own orders to servants, and see they observe them; read your own letters, and never let her have a sight of them; make your own appointments, and never be persuaded to break them; see what company you like; go out when you please; return when you please; and don't suffer yourself to be called to account where you have been.— In short, do but shew yourself a man of spirit, leave off whining about love, and tenderness, and nonsense, and the business is done, brother! Oak. I believe you are in the right, major! I see you're in the right. I'll do it; I'll certainly do it. But, then, it hurts me to the soul, to think what uneasiness I shall give her. The first opening of my design will throw her into fits, and the pursuit of it, perhaps, may be fatal. closet? No, no; these fits, the more care you take of them, the more you will increase the distemper let them alone, and they will wear themselves out, I warrant you. Oak. True-very true-you're certainly in the right-I'll follow your advice. Where do you dine to-day? I'll order the coach and go with you. Maj. O brave! keep up this spirit, and you're made for ever. Oak. You shall sec now, major! Who's there? Oak. I will. Maj. You won't. Oak. I will. I'll be a fool to her no longer.But, hark ye, major! my hat and sword lie in my study. I'll go and steal them out, while she is busy talking with Charles. Maj. Steal them! for shame! prithee, take them boldly, call for them, make them bring them to you here, and go out with spirit, in the face of your whole family. Oak. No, no-you are wrong-let her rave after I am gone; and, when I return, you know, I shall exert myself with more propriety, after this open affront to her authority. Maj. Well, take your own way. nage it. Oak. Ay, ay-let me manage it; let me ma[Exit OAK. Maj. Manage it! Ay, to be sure, you are a rare manager! It is dangerous, they say, to meddle between man and wife. I am no great favourite of Mrs Oakly's already; and, in a week's time, I expect to have the door shut in my teeth. Maj. Fits! Ha, ha, ha! Fits! I'll engage to cure her of her fits. Nobody understands hysterical cases better than I do: besides, my sister's symptoms are not very dangerous. Did you ever bear of her falling into a fit when you was not by? Was she ever found in convulsions in her How now, Charles, what news? Enter CHARLES. Cha. Ruined and undone! She's gone, uncle! My Harriot's lost for ever! Maj. Gone off with a man? I thought so: they are all alike. Cha. O no! Fled to avoid that hateful match with sir Harry Beagle. Maj. Faith, a girl of spirit! Joy! Charles, I give you joy! she is your own, my boy! A fool and a great estate! Devilish strong temptations! Cha. A wretch! I was sure she would never think of him. Cha. Yes! but they were received with the utmost contempt. The old gentleman, it seems, hates a lord, and he told her so in plain terms. Maj. No! to be sure! commend me to your modesty! Refuse five thousand a-year and a baronet, for pretty Mr Charles Oakly! It is true, indeed, that the looby has not a single idea in his head besides a hound, a hunter, a five-barred gate, and a horse-race; but, then, he's rich, and that will qualify his absurdities. Money is achievous as a monkey, and as cunning, too.wonderful improver of the understanding. But whence comes all this intelligence? Maj. Such an aversion to the nobility may not run in the blood. The girl, I warrant you, has no objection. However, if she's there, watch her narrowly, Charles! lady Freelove is as mis Cha. In an angry letter from her father. How Imiserable I am! If I had not offended my Harriot, much offended her by that foolish riot and drinking at your house in the country, she would certainly, at such a time, have taken refuge in my arms. Maj. A very agreeable figure for a young lady, to be sure, and extremely decent ! Cha. I am all uneasiness. Did not she tell me, that she trembled at the thoughts of having trusted her affections with a man of such a wild disposition? What a heap of extravagancies was I guilty of? Maj. Extravagancies with a witness! Ah, you silly young dog, you would ruin yourself with her father, in spite of all I could do. There you sat, as drunk as a lord, telling the old gentleman the whole affair, and swearing you would drive sir Harry Beagle out of the country, though I kept winking and nodding, pulling you by the sleeve, and kicking your shins under the table, in hopes of stopping you, but all to no purpose. Cha. What distress may she be in at this instant! Alone, and defenceless! Where? Where can she be? Maj. What relations or friends has she in town? Cha. Relations! let me see.-Faith! I have it. If she is in town, ten to one but she is at her aunt's, lady Freelove's. I'll go thither immediately. Maj. Lady Freelove's! Hold, hold, Charles! do you know her ladyship? Cha. Not much; but I'll break through all forms to get to my Harriot. Maj. I do know her ladyship. Cha. Well, and what do you know of her? Maj. Oh, nothing! Her ladyship is a woman of the world, that's all—she'll introduce Harriot to the best company. Cha. What do you mean? Maj. Yes, yes; I would trust a wife, or a Have a care of her. I say, have a care of her. nimportuosity of such Re-enter OAKLY. Oak. Come, is the coach ready? Let us be gone. Does Charles go with us? Cha. I go with you! What can I do? I am so vext and distracted, and so many thoughts crowd in upon me, I don't know which way to turn myself. Mrs Oak. [Within.] The coach! dines out! where is your master? Oak. Žounds! brother, here she is! Enter MRS OAKLY. Mrs Oak. Pray, Mr Oakly, what is the mat ter you cannot dine at home to-day? Oak. Don't be uneasy, my dear! I have a little business to settle with my brother; so I am only just going to dinner with him and Charles to the tavern. Mrs Oak. Why cannot you settle your business here as well as at a tavern? But it is some of your ladies' business, I suppose, and so you must get rid of my company. This is chiefly your fault, major Oakly! Maj. Lord, sister! what signifies it, whether a man dines at home or abroad? [Coolly. Mrs Oak. It signifies a great deal, sir! and I don't choose Maj. Phoo! let him go, my dear sister, let him go! he will be ten times better company when he comes back. I tell you what, sisteryou sit at home till you are quite tired of one another, and, then, you grow cross, and fall out. If you would but part a little now and then, you might meet again in good humour. Mrs Oak. I beg, major Oakly, that you would trouble yourself about your own affairs; and let me tell you, sir, that I Oak. Nay, do not put thyself into a passion with the major, my dear! It is not his fault; and I shall come back to thee very soon. Mrs Oak. Come back! why need you go out? I know well enough when you mean to deceive me: for, then, there is always a pretence of dining with sir John, or my lord, or somebody; but when you tell me that you are going to a tavern, it's such a bare-faced affront Oak. This is so strange, now! Why, my dear, I shall only just Mrs Oak. Only just go after the lady in the letter, I suppose? Oak. Well, well; I won't go then. Will that convince you? I'll stay with you, my dear! will that satisfy you? Maj. For shame! hold out, if you are a man. [Apart. Oak. She has been so much vext this mornning already, I must humour her a little now. Maj. Fy, fy! go out, or you're undone. Oak. You see it's impossible— [To Mrs OAKLY.] I'll dine at home my love. Mrs Oak. Ay, ay; pray do, sir. tavern, indeed! [Apart. [Apart. [Apart. with thee, Dine at a [Going. Oak. [Returning.] You may depend on me anather time, major. Maj. Steel and adamant! Ah! Maj. So! I have a fine time on't between you and my brother. Will you meet me to dinner at the St Alban's by four? We'll drink her health, and think of this affair. Cha. Don't depend upon me. I shall be running all over the town in pursuit of my Harriot. I have been considering what you have said; but, at all events, I'll go directly to lady Freelove's. If I find her not there, which way shall direct myself, Heaven knows. I Maj. Hark ye, Charles! If you meet with her, you may be at a loss. Bring her to my house. I have a snug room, and Cha. Phoo! prithee, uncle, don't trifle with me, now. Maj. Well, seriously, then, my house is at your service. Cha. I thank you : but I must be gone. Maj. Ay, ay; bring her to my house, and we'll settle the whole affair for you. You shall clap her into a a post-chaise, take the chaplain of our regiment along with you; wheel her down to Scotland; and, when you come back, send to setde her fortune with her father: that's the modern art of making love, Charles! Sir Har. And are you sure, Tom, that there is no flaw in his blood? Tom. He's a good thing, sir, and as little beholden to the ground, as any horse that ever went over the turf upon four legs. Why, here's his whole pedigree, your honour! Sir Har. Is he attested? Tom. Very well attested: it is signed by Jack Spur, and my lord Startall. [Giving the pedigree. Sir Har. Let me seee-[Reading.] Tomcqme-tickle-me was out of the famous Tantwivy-mare, by sir Aaron Driver's chesnut horse "White Stockings. White Stockings, his dam, was got by lord Hedge's South Barb, full sister to the Proserpine Filley, and his sire Tom Jones, his grandam was the Irish Dutchess, and his grandsire 'Squire Sportly's Trajan; his great [Exeunt. grandam, and great great grandam, were New 'market Peggy and Black Moll, and his great grandsire, and great great grandsire, were sir Ralph Whip's Regulus, and the famous Prince 'Anamaboo. bis JOHN X SPUR, mark. STARTAL. Tom. All fine horses, and won every thing! a foal out of your honour's bald-faced Venus, by this horse, would beat the world. Sir Har. Well, then, we'll think on't. But, pox on't, Tom; I have certainly knocked up my little roan gelding, in this damned wild-goose chase of threescore miles an end. Tom. He's deadly blown to be sure, your honour; and I am afraid we are upon a wrong scent after all. Madam Harriot certainly took across the country, instead of coming on to London. Sir Har. No, no; we traced her all the way up. But d'ye hear, Tom, look out among the stables and repositories here in town, for a smart road nag, and a strong horse to carry a portman teau. Sir Har. You seemed mad about her a little while ago. She's a fine mare, and a thing of shape and blood. Tom. Sir Roger Turf's horses are all to be Rus. Damn her blood!-Harriot! my dear sold-I'll see if there's ever a tight thing there-provoking Harriot! Where can she be? Have you got any intelligence of her? but I suppose, sir, you would have one somewhat stronger than Snip?-I don't think he's quite enough of a horse for your honour. Sir Har. Not enough of a horse! Snip's a powerful gelding; master of two stone more than my weight. If Snip stands sound, I would not take a hundred guineas for him. Poor Snip! go into the stable, Tom; see they give him a warm mash, and look at his heels and his eyes. But where's Mr Russet all this while? Tom. I left the 'squire at breakfast on a cold pigeon-pye, and enquiring after madam Harriot in the kitchen. I'll let him know your honour would be glad to see him here. Sir Har. Ay, do: but hark'e, Tom, be sure you take care of Snip. Tom. I'll warrant your honour. Sir Har. I'll be down in the stables myself by and by. [Erit Tom.] Let me see-out of the famous Tantwivy by White Stockings; White Stockings his dam, full sister to the Proserpine Filly, and his sire-pox on't, how unlucky it is, that this damned accident should happen in the Newmarket week! ten to one I lose my match with lord Choakjade, by not riding myself, and I shall have no opportunity to hedge my betts neither what a damned piece of work have I made on't! I have knocked up poor Snip, shall lose my match, and, as to Harriot, the odds are, that I lose my match there, too— a skittish young tit! If I once get her tight in hand, I'll make her wince for it. Her estate joined to my own, I would have the finest stud, and the noblest kennel in the whole country.But here comes her father, puffing and blowing, like a broken-winded horse up hill. Enter RUSSET. Rus. Well, sir Harry, have you heard any thing of her? Sir Har. Yes, I have been asking Tom about her, and he says, you may have her for five hundred guineas. Rus. Five hundred guineas! how d'ye mean? where is she? which way did she take? Sir Har. Why, first she went to Epsom, then to Lincoln, then to Nottingham, and now she is at York. Rus. Impossible! she could not go over half the ground in the time. What the devil are you talking of? Sir Har. No, faith, not I: we seem to be quite thrown out here-but, however, I have ordered Tom to try if he can hear any thing of her among the ostlers. Rus. Why don't you inquire after her your self? why don't you run up and down the whole town after her?- t'other young rascal knows where she is, I warrant you. What a plague it is to have a daughter! When one loves her to distraction, and has toiled and laboured to make her happy, the ungrateful slut will sooner go to hell her own way-but she shall have him—I will make her happy, if I break her heart for it. A provoking gipsy!-to run away, and torment her poor father, that dotes on her! I'M never see her face again.--Sir Harry, how can we get any intelligence of her? Why don't you speak? why don't you tell me?---Zounds! you seem as indifferent as if you did not care a farthing about her. Sir Har. Indifferent! you may well call me indifferent !--this damned chase after her will cost me a thousand------if it had not been for her, I would not have been off the course this week, to have saved the lives of my whole family --I'll hold you six to two that----- Rus. Zounds! hold your tongue, or talk more to the purpose--I swear, she is too good for you--you don't deserve such a wife---a fine, dear, sweet, lovely, charming girl!--She'll break my heart.----How shall I find her out ?------Do, prithee, sir Harry, my dear honest friend, consider how we may discover where she is fled to. Sir Har. Suppose you an advertisement into the news-papers, describing her marks, her age, her height, and, where she strayed from. I recovered a bay mare once by that method. Rus. Advertise her! What! describe my daughter and expose her in the public papers, with a reward for bringing her home, like horses stolen or strayed !------recovered a bay mare !--the devil's in the fellow !------he thinks of nothing but racers, and bay mares, and stallions.--'Sdeath I wish your----- Sir Har. I wish Harriot was fairly pounded; it would save us both a deal of trouble. Rus. Which way shall I turn myself?-----I am half distracted.If I go to that young dog's house, he has certainly conveyed her somewhere out of my reach-if she does not send to me to day, I'll give her up for ever------perSir Har. Of the mare you was just now say-haps, though, she may have met with some acing you wanted to buy. Rus. The devil take the mare!-who would think of her, when I am mad about an affair of so much more consequence? VOL. II. cident, and has nobody to assist her.---No, she is certainly with that young rascal.---I wish she was dead, and I was dead---I'll blow young Oakly's brains out. 5 G Enter Toм. sit down. [They sit.] I longed to see you. It seemed an age till I had an opportunity of talking over the silly affair that happened this morn[Mildly. Sir Har. Well, Tom, how is poor Snip? Tom. A little better, sir, after his warm mash:ing. but Lady, the pointing bitch that followed you all the way, is deadly foot-sore. Rus. Damn Snip and Lady! have you heard any thing of Harriot? Tom. Why I came on purpose to let my master and your honour know, that John Ostler says as how, just such a lady as I told him madam Harriot was, came here in a four-wheel chaise, and was fetched away soon after by a fine lady in a chariot. Rus. Did she come alone? Tom. Quite alone, only a servant-maid, please your honour. to? Rus. And what part of the town did they go Tom. John Ostler says as how, they bid the coachman drive to Grosvenor-square. Sir Har. Soho! puss-Yoics! Rus. She is certainly gone to that young rogue--he has got his aunt to fetch her from hence or else she is with her own aunt, lady Freelove-they both live in that part of the town. I'll go to his house; and in the mean while, sir Harry, you shall step to lady Freelove's. We'll find her, I warrant you. I'll teach my young mistress to be gadding. She shall marry you to-night. Come along, sir Harry, come along; we won't lose a minute. Come along. Sir Har. Soho! hark forward! wind 'em and cross 'em! hark forward! Yoics! Yoics! [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Changes to OAKLY'S. Enter MRS OAKLY. Oak. Why, really, my dear Mrs Oak. Nay, don't look so grave now. Come-it's all over. Charles and you have cleared up matters. I am satisfied. Oak. Indeed! I rejoice to hear it! You make me happy beyond my expectation. This disposition will insure our felicity. Do but lay aside your cruel unjust suspicion, and we should never have the least difference. Mrs Oak. Indeed, I begin to think so. I'll endeavour to get the better of it. And really sometimes it is very ridiculous. My uneasiness this morning, for instance! ha, ha, ha! To be so much alarmed about that idle letter, which turned out quite another thing at last- was not I very angry with you? ha, ha, ha! [Affecting a laugh. Oak. Don't mention it. Let us both forget it. Your present cheerfulness makes amends for every thing. Mrs Oak. I am apt to be too violent: I love you too well to be quite easy about you. [Fondly.] Well-no matter what is become of Charles? Oak. Poor fellow! he is on the wing, rambling all over the town in pursuit of this young lady. Mrs Oak. Where is he gone, pray! Oak. First of all, I believe, to some of her relations. Mrs Oak. Relations! Who are they? Where do they live? Oak. There is an aunt of her's lives just in the neighbourhood; lady Freelove. Mrs Oak. Lady Freelove! Oho! gone to lady Freelove's, is he?-and do you think he will hear any thing of her? Oak. I don't know; but I hope so with all my soul. hope so? so? Mrs Oak. After all, that letter was certainly Mrs Oak. Hope! with all your soul! do you intended for my husband. I see plain enough [Alarmed. they are all in a plot against me. My husband Oak. Hope so! ye-yes-why, don't you hope intriguing, the major working him up to affront [Surprised. me, Charles owning his letters, and so playing Mrs Oak. Well-yes-[Recovering.]-0 ay, into each other's hands.They think me a to be sure. I hope it of all things. You know, fool, I find—but I'll be too much for them my dear, it must give me great satisfaction, as yet.----I have desired to speak with Mr Oak-well as yourself, to see Charles well settled. ly, and expect him here immediately. His temper is naturally open; and if he thinks my anger abated, and my suspicions laid asleep, he will certainly betray himself by his behaviour. I'll assume an air of good-humour, pretend to believe the fine story they have trumped up, throw him off his guard, and so draw the secret out of him. Here he comes.---How hard it is to dissemble one's anger! O, I could rate him soundly! but I'll keep down my indignation at present, though it chokes me. Enter OAKLY. O my dear! I am very glad to see you. Pray Oak. I should think so; and really I don't know where he can be settled so well. She is a most deserving young woman, I assure you. Mrs Oak. You are well acquainted with her, then? Oak. To be sure, my dear! after seeing her so often last summer at the major's house in the country, and at her father's. Mrs Oak. So often! Oak. O ay, very often-Charles took care of that-almost every day. Mrs Oak. Indeed! But pray-a—a—a—I [Confused. say-a-a Oak. What do you say? my dear! |