mend them-you know I have tried to do it a hundred times-and-it hurts me so— -I can't bear it. Lord T. And I, madam, can't bear this daily licentious abuse of your time and character. Lady T. 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 this 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 old lace, to make it worse than it was before. Lord T. Well, the manner of women's living, of late, is insupportable! and one way or other Lady T. 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 T. Madam, I am not in a humour now to trifle ! Lady T. 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 I of your early onesso far we are even, you'll allow-but, pray, which gives us the best figure 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 T. Fie, fie, madam! is this your way of reason ing? '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 T. Sure, I don't understand you, now, my lord; what ill company do I keep? Lord T. 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 him fair play at another. Then, that unavoidable 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 ! Lady T. And a husband must give eminent proof of his sense, that thinks their follies dangerous. Lord T. 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 T. What do you mean? Lord T. 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 T. 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 T. So are the churches-now and then. Lady T. My friends frequent them too, as well as the assemblies. Lord T. Yes, and would do it oftener, if a groom of the chambers were allowed to furnish cards to the company. you Lady T. I see what 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 T. Have a care, madam; don't let me think you value your chastity only, 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 render him contemptible. Lady T. My lord, my lord-you would make a woman mad! Lord T. Madam, madam, you would make a man a fool! Lady T. If Heaven has made you otherwise, that won't be in my power. Lord T. Whatever may be in your inclination, madam, I'll prevent you 'making me a beggar at least. Lady T. A beggar! Croesus! I am out of patience! -I won't come home till four, to-morrow morning. Lord T. That may be, madam; but I'll order the doors to be locked at twelve. Lady T. Then I won't come home till to-morrow night. Lord T. Then, madam, you shall never come home again. [Exit. Lady T. 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. Manly. I ask pardon, for intrusion, madam; but I hope my business with my lord will excuse it. sir. Lady T. I believe you'll find him in the next room, Manly. Will you give me leave, madam? Lady T. Sir, you have my leave, though you were a lady. Manly. [Aside.] What a well-bred age do we live in! [Exit. Enter LADY GRACE. Lady T. Oh, my dear Lady Grace! how could you leave me so unmercifully alone, all this while? Lady G. I thought my lord had been with you. Lady T. Why, yes; and, therefore, I wanted your relief; for he has been in such a fluster here- Lady G. Bless me! for what? Lady T. Only our usual breakfast! we have each of us had our dish of matrimonial comfort this morning— We have been charming company! Lady G. I am mighty glad of it! sure, it must be a vast happiness, when a man and wife can give themselves the same turn of conversation! Lady T. Oh, the prettiest thing in the world! Lady G. Now I should be afraid, that, where two people are every day together so, they must often be in want of something to talk upon. Lady T. 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 occasion for it, it will be as fresh next day too, as it was the first hour it entertained us. Lady G. Certainly, that must be vastly pretty! for example, when you dined abroad, my lord and I, after a pretty cheerful tête à téte meal, sat us down by the fire-side, in an easy, indolent, pick-tooth way, for about a quarter of an hour, as if we had not thought of any other's being in the room-At last, stretching himself, and yawning-My dear-says he-aw you came home very late last night-'Twas but just turned of two, says I—I was in bed- -aw -by eleven, says heSo you are every night, says I I Well, says he, I am amazed you can sit up so lateHow can you be amazed, says I, at a thing that happens so often?-Upon which, we entered into a conversation -and though this is a point has entertained us above fifty times already, we always find so many pretty new things to say upon it, that I believe in my soul it will last as long as we live. Lady G. But pray, in such sort of family dialogues, (though extremely well for passing the time) don't there, now and then, enter some little witty sort of bitterness? Lady T. Oh, yes! which does not do amiss at all—A smart repartee, with a zest of recrimination at the head of it, makes the prettiest sherbet! Ay, ay, if we did not mix a little of the acid with it, a matrimonial society would be so luscious, that nothing but an old liquorish prude would be able to bear it. Lady G. Well, certainly, you have the most elegant taste Lady T. Though, to tell you the truth, my dear, I rather think we squeezed a little too much lemon into it, this bout; for, it grew so sour at last, that—I think -I almost told him he was a fool-and he, again— talked something oddly of―turning me out of doors. Lady G. O, have a care of that! Lady T. Nay, if he should, I may thank my own wise father for it.-But, to be serious, my dear; what would you really have a woman do, in my case? |