ACT V.

Scene I.-Lord Townly's House.

Enter WILLIAMS and MR. MANLY.

Will. I believe it is Sir Francis Wronghead, sir. Manly. Desire Sir Francis to walk in. [Exit WILLIAMS.]-I suppose, by this time, his wise worship begins to find that the balance of his journey to London is on the wrong side.

Enter SIR FRANCIS WRONGHEAD.

Sir Francis your servant.

How came I by the favour

of this extraordinary visit?

Sir Fran. Ah, cousin!

Manly. Why that sorrowful face, man?
Sir Fran. I have no friend alive but you

Manly. I am sorry for that-But what's the matter? Sir Fran. I have played the fool by this journey, I see now for my bitter wife

Manly. What of her?

Sir Fran. Is playing the devil.

Manly. Why, truly, that's a part that most of your fine ladies begin with, as soon as they get to London.

Sir Fran. If I'm a living man, cousin, she has made away with above two hundred and fifty pounds since yesterday morning. But there's one hundred on't goes more to my heart than all the rest.

Manly. And how might that be disposed of?

Sir Fran. Troth, I am almost ashamed to tell you.
Manly. Out with it.

Sir Fran. Why, she has been at an assembly. Manly. What, since I saw you! I thought you had all supped at home last night.

VOL. I.

Sir Fran. Why, so we did and all as merry as grigs-I'cod, my heart was so open, that I tossed another hundred into her apron, to go out early this morning with But the cloth was no sooner taken away, than in comes my Lady Townly here, with another rantipole dame of quality, and out they must have her, they said, to introduce her at my Lady Noble's assembly, forsooth- -A few words, you may be sure, made the bargain-so, bawnce! and away they drive, as if the devil had got into the coach-box-so, about four or five in the morning-home comes madam, with her eyes a foot deep in her head-and my poor hundred pounds left behind her at the hazard-table.

Manly. All lost at dice!

Sir Fran. Every shilling-among a parcel of pigtail puppies, and pale-faced women of quality.

Manly. If you remember, I gave you a hint of this.

Sir Fran. Why, ay, it's true, you did so: but the devil himself could not have believed she would have rid post to him.

Manly. Sir, if you stay but a fortnight in this town, you will every day see hundreds as fast upon the gallop

as she is.

Sir Fran. Ah, this London is a base place indeed !— Waunds, if things should happen to go wrong with me at Westminster, at this rate, how the devil shall I keep out of a gaol?

Manly. Why, truly, there seems to me but one way to avoid it.

Sir Fran. Ah, would you could tell me that, cousin! Manly. The way lies plain before you, sir; the same road that brought you hither, will carry you safe home again.

Sir Fran. Ods flesh, cousin! what! and leave a thousand pounds a year behind me?

Manly. Pooh, pooh! leave any thing behind you, but your family, and you are a saver by it.

Sir Fran. Ay, but consider, cousin, what a scurvy figure shall I make in the country, if I come dawn withawt it.

Manly. You will make a much more lamentable figure in a gaol without it.

Sir Fran. Mayhap 'at you have no great opinion of my journey to London then, cousin?

Manly. Sir Francis, to do you the service of a real friend, I must speak very plainly to you: you don't yet see half the ruin that's before you.

Sir Fran. Good lack! how may you mean, cousin? Manly. In one word, your whole affairs stand thus -In a week you'll lose your seat at Westminster: in a fortnight my lady will run you into gaol, by keeping the best company-In four-and-twenty hours your daughter will run away with a sharper, because she han't been used to better company: and your son will steal into marriage with a cast mistress, because he has not been used to any company at all.

Sir Fran. I'the name o'goodness, why should you think all this?

Manly. Because I have proof of it; in short, I know so much of their secrets, that if all this is not prevented to-night, it will be out of your power to do it to-morrow morning.

Sir Fran. Waunds! if what you tell me be true, I'll stuff my whole family into a stage-coach, and trundle them into the country again on Monday morning.

Manly. Stick to that, sir, and we may yet find a way to redeem all. I hear company entering-You know they see masks here to-day-conceal yourself in this room, and for the truth of what I have told you, take the evidence of your own senses: but be sure you keep close till I give you the signal.

Sir Fran. Sir, I'll warrant you-Ah, my lady! my Lady Wronghead! What a bitter business have you drawn me into!

Manly. Hush! to your post; here comes one couple already.

[SIR FRANCIS and MANLY retire through the centre door.

Enter 'SQUIRE RICHARD and MYRTILLA, in Masquerade Dresses.

'Squire R. What, is this the doctor's chamber? Myr. Yes, yes, speak softly.

'Squire R. Well, but where is he?

Myr. He'll be ready for us presently, but he says he can't do us the good turn without witnesses: so, when the Count and your sister come, you know he and you may be fathers for one another.

'Squire R. Well, well, tit for tat! ay, ay, that will be friendly

Myr. And see, here they come !

Enter COUNT BASSET and MISS JENNY, in Masquerade Dresses.

Count B. So, so, here's your brother and his bride, before us, my dear.

Jenny. Well, I vow, my heart's at my mouth still! I thought I should never have got rid of mamma; but while she stood gaping upon the dance, I gave her the slip! Lawd, do but feel how it beats here!

Count B. Oh, the pretty flutterer! I protest, my dear, you have put mine into the same palpitation !

-Oh,

Jenny. Ay, you say so--but let's see nowlud! I vow it thumps purely-well, well, I see it will do; and so where's the parson?

Count B. Mrs. Myrtilla, will you be so good as to

see if the doctor's ready for us?

Myr. He only staid for you, sir; I'll fetch him immediately.

[Exit. Jenny. Pray, sir, am not I to take place of mamma, when I'm a countess !

Count B. No doubt on't, my dear.

Jenny. Oh, lud! how her back will be up then, when she meets me at an assembly; or you and I in our coach and six at Hyde-Park together!

Count B. Ay, or when she hears the box-keepers at an opera, call out-The Countess of Basset's servants!

Jenny. Well, I say it, that will be delicious! And then, mayhap, to have a fine gentleman, with a star and a what-d'ye-call-um ribbon, lead me to my chair, with his hat under his arm all the way! Hold up, says the chairman; and so, says I, my lord, your humble servant. I suppose, madam, says he, we shall see you at my Lady Quadrille's? Ay, ay, to be sure, my lord, says I--So in swops me, with my hoop stuffed up to my forehead; and away they trot, swing! swang! with my tassels dangling, and my flambeaux blazing! and--Oh, it's a charming thing to be a woman of quality!

Count B. Well! I see that plainly, my dear, there's ne'er a duchess of them all will become an equipage

like you.

Jenny. Well, well, do you find equipage, and I'll find airs, I warrant you.

'Squire R. Troth! I think this masquerading's the merriest game that ever I saw in my life! Thof' in my mind, and there were but a little wrestling, or cudgelplaying naw, it would help it hugely. But what a-rope makes the parson stay so?

Count B. O, here he comes, I believe.

Enter MYRTILLA, with a CONSTABLE.

Const. Well, madam, pray which is the party that wants a spice of my office here?

Myr. That's the gentleman. [Pointing to the COUNT. Count B. Heyday! what, in masquerade, doctor? Const. Doctor! Sir, I believe you have mistaken your man but if you are called Count Basset, I have a