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fancy it burgundy, only fancy it, and 'tis worth ten shillings a quart.

Aimwell. Drinks. 'Tis confounded strong!

Boniface. Strong! it must be so, or how should we be strong that drink it?

Aimwell. And have you lived so long upon this ale, landlord?

Boniface. Eight-and-fifty years, upon my credit, sir -but it killed my wife, poor woman, as the saying is. Aimwell. How came that to pass?

Boniface. I don't know how, sir; she would not let the ale take its natural course, sir; she was for qualifying it every now and then with a dram, as the saying is; and an honest gentleman that came this way from Ireland, made her a present of a dozen bottles of usquebaugh-but the poor woman was never well after but howe'er, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know.

Aimwell. Why, was it the usquebaugh that killed

her?

Boniface. My Lady Bountiful said so. She, good lady, did what could be done; she cured her of three tympanies, but the fourth carried her off. But she's happy and I'm contented, as the saying is.

Aimwell. Who's that Lady Bountiful you mentioned?

Boniface. Ods my life, sir, we 'll drink her health. -Drinks. My Lady Bountiful is one of the best of

women.

Her last husband, Sir Charles Bountiful, left her worth a thousand pound a year; and, I believe, she lays out one-half on 't in charitable uses for the good of her neighbours: . . . in short she has cured more people in and about Lichfield in ten years than the doctors have killed in twenty; and that's a bold word.

The Gallery in Lady BOUNTIFUL'S House.

Mrs. SULLEN and DORINDA.

.

news.

Enter Scrub. Dorinda. Well, Scrub, what news of the gentleman? Scrub. Madam, I have brought you a packet of

Dorinda. Open it quickly, come.

Scrub. In the first place I enquired who the gentleman was; they told me he was a stranger. Secondly, I asked what the gentleman was; they answered and said, that they never saw him before. Thirdly, I enquired what countryman he was; they replied 'twas more than they knew. Fourthly, I demanded whence he came; their answer was, they could not tell. And, fifthly, I asked whither he went; and they replied they knew nothing of the matter,—and this is all I could learn.

N

Mrs. Sullen. But what do the people say? Can't they guess?

Scrub. Why, some think he's a spy, some guess he's a mountebank, some say one thing, some another; but for my own part, I believe he's a Jesuit.

Dorinda. A Jesuit! why a Jesuit?

Scrub. Because he always keeps his horses ready saddled, and his footman talks French.

Mrs. Sullen. His footman!

Scrub. Ay, he and the count's footman were gabbering French like two ducks in a mill-pond; and I believe they talked of me, for they laughed consumedly.

Dorinda. What sort of livery has the footman?

Scrub. Livery! Lord, madam, I took him for a captain, he's so bedizzened with lace! And then he has tops to his shoes, up to his mid leg, a silver-headed cane dangling at his knuckles; he carries his hands in his pockets just so— Walks about foppishly. and has a fine long periwig tied up in a bag.-Lord, madam, he's clear another sort of man than I. Mrs. Sullen. That may easily be.

THE INCONSTANT; OR, THE WAY TO WIN HIM

MIRABEL is of a wild, roving disposition. He has just returned from travelling abroad, and refuses to marry Oriana, his father's ward, to whom he is betrothed, and plans going abroad again. Oriana dis

guises herself and enters his service as a page, unrecognized by him. Mirabel makes the acquaintance of Mrs. Lamorce, an adventuress, and calling at her house attended only by his supposed page, finds himself in the hands of four bravoes-whom, however, he affects to believe to be gentlemen. As a last hope of escape, he sends the page on a pretended errand for wine, who, seeing Mirabel's danger, fetches his friend Captain Duretete and a guard of soldiers. The bravoes are arrested, and Mirabel, full of gratitude to the page, desires him to ask what reward he will. Oriana discovers herself and claims the fulfilment of his contract to her, which Mirabel gladly promises.

LAMORCE'S Lodgings.

MIRABEL. Enter LAMORCE and Four Bravoes.

Mirabel. Starts back. Hum! hum! Aside. Murdered, murdered to be sure!--Nobody near me!-These cut-throats make always sure work.-What shall I do? I have but one way.-Aloud. Are these gentlemen your relations, madam ?

Lamorce. Yes, sir.

Mirabel. Gentlemen, your most humble servant !— Sir, your most faithful !—Yours, sir, with all my heart! -Your most obedient !Salutes all round. No ceremony-next the lady-pray, sir. They all sit. Lamorce. Well, sir, and how d' ye like my friends? Mirabel. O madam, the most finished gentlemen! I was never more happy in good company in my life. -I suppose, sir, you have travelled?

First Bravo. Yes, sir.

Mirabel. Which way, may I presume?

First Bravo. In a western barge, sir.

Mirabel. Ha ha ha! very pretty; facetious pretty gentleman!

Lamorce. Ha ha ha! Sir, you have got the prettiest ring upon your finger there

Mirabel. Ah, madam! 'tis at your service with all my heart. Offering the ring. Lamorce. By no means, sir, a family-ring!

Takes it.

Mirabel. No matter, madam.-Aside. Seven hundred pound, by this light!

Second Bravo. Pray, sir, what's o'clock ?

Mirabel. Hum! Sir, I forgot my watch at home. Second Bravo. I thought I saw the string of it just

now.

Mirabel. Ods my life, sir, I beg your pardon! Here it is-but it don't go. Putting it up. Lamorce. O dear sir, an English watch! Tompion's, I presume?

Mirabel. D'ye like it, madam? No ceremony.LAMORCE takes the watch. 'Tis at your service with all my heart and soul.-Aside. Tompion's! hang ye.

First Bravo. But, sir, above all things, I admire the fashion and make of your sword-hilt.

Mirabel. I'm mighty glad you like it, sir.
First Bravo. Will you part with it, sir?

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