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Lady G. Why-if I had a sober husband, as you have, I would make myself the happiest wife in the world, by being as sober as he.

Lady T. Oh, you wicked thing! how can you tease one at this rate, when you know he is so very sober, that, except giving me money, there is not one thing in the world he can do to please me. And I, at the same time, partly by nature, and partly, perhaps, by keeping the best company, do, with my soul, love almost every thing he hates. I dote upon assemblies-my heart bounds at a ball-and, at an opera-I expire.-Then I love play, to distraction!-cards enchant me-and dice -put me out of my little wits-Dear, dear hazard!Oh, what a flow of spirits it gives one!-Do you never play at hazard, child?

Lady G. Oh, never! I don't think it sits well upon women-there's something so masculine, so much the air of a rake in it! You see how it makes the men swear and curse! and when a woman is thrown into the same passion-why-————

Lady T. That's very true; one is a little put to it, sometimes, not to make use of the same words to express it.

Lady G. Well; and, upon ill luck, pray what words are you really forced to make use of?

Lady T. Why, upon a very hard case, indeed, when a sad wrong word is rising, just to one's tongue's end, I give a great gulp-and swallow it.

Lady G. Well; and is not that enough to make you forswear play, as long as you live?

Lady T. Oh, yes-I have forsworn it.

Lady G. Seriously?

Lady T. Solemnly !—a thousand times; but then one is constantly forsworn.

Lady G. And how can you answer that?

Lady T. My dear, what we say, when we are losers, we look upon to be no more binding, than a lover's

oath, or a great man's promise. But I beg pardon, child, I should not lead you so far into the world; you are a prude, and design to live soberly.

Lady G. Why, I confess, my nature and my education do, in a good degree, incline me that way.

Lady T. Well, how a woman of spirit (for you don't want that, child) can dream of living soberly, is, to me, inconceivable! for you will marry, I suppose?

Lady G. I can't tell but I

may.

Lady T. And won't you live in town?

Lady G. Half the year, I should like it very well. Lady T. My stars! and you would really live in London half the year, to be sober in it?

Lady G. Why not?

Lady T. Why, can't you as well go and be sober in the country?

Lady G. So I would-t'other half year.

Lady T. And pray, what comfortable scheme of life would you form, now, for your summer and winter sober entertainments?

Lady G. A scheme that, I think, might very well

content us.

Lady T. Oh, of all things, let's hear it.

Lady G. Why, in summer, I could pass my leisure hours in reading, walking by a canal, or sitting at the end of it, under a great tree; in dressing, dining, chatting with an agreeable friend; perhaps, hearing a little music, taking a dish of tea, or a game of cards, soberly; managing my family, looking into its accounts, playing with my children, if I had any, or in a thousand other innocent amusements-soberly; and, possibly, by these means, I might induce my husband to be as sober as myself.

Lady T. Well, my dear, thou art an astonishing creature! For, sure, such primitive, antediluvian notions of life have not been in any head these thousand years-Under a great tree! Oh, my soul!-But I beg

we may have the sober town scheme too-for I am charmed with the country one!

Lady G. You shall; and I'll try to stick to my sobriety there too.

Lady T. Well, though I'm sure it will give me the I must hear it, however.

vapours,

Lady G. Why, then, for fear of your fainting, madam, I will first so far come into the fashion, that I would never be dressed out of it—but still, it should be soberly; for, I can't think it any disgrace to a woman of my private fortune, not to wear her lace as fine as the wedding-suit of a first duchess. Though, there is one extravagance I would venture to come up to.

Lady T. Ay, now for it!

Lady G. I would every day be as neat as a bride. Lady T. Why, the men say, that's a great step to be made one-Well, now you are dressed, pray let's see to what purpose?

Lady G. I would visit—that is, my real friends; but as little for form as possible.- -I would go to court; sometimes, to an assembly, nay, play at quadrillesoberly: I would see all the good plays; and, because 'tis the fashion, now and then, an opera-but I would not expire there, for fear I should never go again: and, lastly, I can't say, but for curiosity, if I liked my company, I might be drawn in once to a masquerade; and this, I think, is as far as any woman can go-soberly.

Lady T. Well, if it had not been for this last piece of sobriety, I was just going to call for some surfeit

water.

Lady G. Why, don't you think, with the further aid of breakfasting, dining, and taking the air, supping, sleeping, not to say a word of devotion, the four-andtwenty hours might roll over in a tolerable manner?

Lady T. Tolerable! deplorable! Why, child, all you propose, is but to endure life; now, I want to enjoy it.

Enter MRS. TRUSTY.

Mrs. T. Ma'am, your ladyship's chair is ready. Lady T. Have the footmen their white flambeaux yet? For, last night, I was poisoned.

Mrs. T. Yes, ma'am; there were some came in this morning. [Exit. Lady T. My dear, you will excuse me; but, you know, my time is so precious

Lady G. That I beg I may not hinder your joyment of it.

least en

Lady T. You will call on me at Lady Revel's?
Lady G. Certainly.

Lady T. But I am so afraid it will break into your scheme, my dear!

Lady G. When it does, I will-soberly break from you.

Lady T. Why, then, till we meet again, dear sister, I wish you all tolerable happiness.

[Exit.

Lady G. There she goes!-Dash, into her stream of pleasures! Poor woman, she is really a fine creature! and sometimes infinitely agreeable! nay, take her out of the madness of this town, rational in her notions, and easy to live with; but she is so borne down by this torrent of vanity in vogue, she thinks every hour of her life is lost, that she does not lead at the head of it. What it will end in, I tremble to imagine! Ha, my brother, and Mr. Manly with him! I guess what they have been talking of-I shall hear it in my turn, I suppose, but it won't become me to be inquisitive. [Exit.

Enter LORD TOWNLY and MANLY.

Lord T. I did not think my Lady Wronghead had such a notable brain: though I can't say she was so very wise, in trusting this silly girl, you call Myrtilla, with the secret.

Manly. No, my lord, you mistake me; had the girl

been in the secret, perhaps I had never come at it myself.

Lord T. Why, I thought you said the girl writ this letter to you, and that my Lady Wronghead sent it enclosed to my sister.

Manly. If you please to give me leave, my lord-the fact is thus-This enclosed letter to Lady Grace was a real, original one, written by this girl to the Count we have been talking of; the Count drops it, and my Lady Wronghead finds it-then, only changing the cover, she seals it up, as a letter of business, just written by herself, to me; and, pretending to be in a hurry, gets this innocent girl to write the direction for her.

Lord T. Oh, then the girl did not know she was superscribing a billet-doux of her own, to you?

Manly. No, my lord; for when I first questioned her about the direction, she owned it immediately; but when I showed her, that her letter to the Count was within it, and told her how it came into my hands, the poor creature was amazed, and thought herself betrayed, both by the Count and my lady-in short, upon this discovery, the girl and I grew so gracious, that she has let me into some transactions, in my Lady Wroughead's family, which, with my having a careful eye over them, may prevent the ruin of it.

Lord T. You are very generous, to be so solicitous for a lady that has given you so much uneasiness.

Manly. But I will be most unmercifully revenged of her for I will do her the greatest friendship in the world-against her will.

Lord T. What an uncommon philosophy art thou master of, to make even thy malice a virtue!

Manly. Yet, my lord, I assure you, there is no one action of my life gives me more pleasure, than your approbation of it.

Lord T. Dear Charles! my heart's impatient till thou art nearer to me; and, as a proof that I have long

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