Mus. Set you up, indeed, Mr. Coxcomb

Will. Nineteen !-Clubs

[Plays. Mus. Have done with your foolery, will ye? and send my lady word

Will. Hold your tongue, Mrs. Muslin, you'll put us out.-What shall I play?—I'll tell you, woman, my master and I desire to have nothing to say to you or your lady. Twenty-Diamonds! [Plays. Mus. But I tell you, Mr. Saucebox, that my lady desires to know when your master came home last night, and how he is this morning?

Will. Pr'ythee, be quiet: I and my master are resolved to be teas'd no more by you. And so, Mrs. Go-between, you may return as you came.-What the devil shall I play?-We'll have nothing to do with you, I tell you

Mus. You'll have nothing to do with us!-But you shall have to do with us, or I'll know the reason why. [Snatches the cards out of his hands. Will. Death and fury! This meddling woman has destroyed my whole game.

Mus. Now, sir, will you be so obliging as to send an answer to her questions-How and when your rakehelly master came home last night?

Will. I'll tell you what, Mrs. Muslin,-you and my master will be the death of me at last; that's what you will.-In the name of charity, what do you both take me for? Whatever appearances may be, I am but of mortal mould: nothing supernatural about me.

Mus. Upon my word, Mr. Powderpuff!

Will. I have not indeed-And so, do you see, flesh and blood can't hold it always-I can't be for ever a slave to your whims, and your second-hand airs.

Mus. Second-hand airs!

Will. Yes, second-hand airs!-You take them at your ladies' toilets with their cast gowns, and so you descend to us with them.-And then, on the other hand, there's

my master!-Because he chooses to live upon the principal of his health, and so run out his whole stock as fast as he can, he must have the pleasure of my company with him in his devil's dance to the other world. Never at home till three, four, five, six, in the morning!

Mus. Ay, a vile, ungrateful man! to have so little regard for a wife that doats upon him.-And your love for me is all of a-piece. I've no patience with you both.-A couple of false, perfidious, abandoned, profligate

Will. Hey, hey! where's your tongue running?. My master is, as the world goes, a good sort of a civil kind of a husband, and I,-heaven help me!—a poor simpleton of an amorous, constant puppy, that bears with all the follies of his little tyrant here.- -Come and kiss me, you jade, come and kiss me.

Mus. Paws off, Cæsar-Don't think to make me your dupe. I know, when you go with him to this new lady, this Bath acquaintance-and I know, you're as false as my master, and give all my dues to your Mrs. Mignionet there

Will. Hush,-not a word of that. I'm ruined, pressed, and sent on board a tender directly, if you blab that I trusted you with that secret.- But to charge me with falsehood, injustice, and ingratitude! My master, to be sure, does drink an agreeable dish of tea with the widow.-Has been there every night this month past.-How long it will last, heaven knows! But thither he goes, and I attend him.—I ask my master,-Sir, says I, what time would you please to want me?-He gives me his answer, and then I strut by Mrs. Mignionet, without so much as tipping her one glance; she stands watering at the mouth, and " A pretty fellow, that," says she.-" Ay, ay, gaze on," says I, "gaze on ;-I see what you would be at:you'd be glad to have me, you'd be glad to have

me!-But, sour grapes, my dear! I'll go home and cherish my own lovely wanton."-And so I do, you know I do. Then, after toying with thee, I hasten back to my master-later, indeed, than he desires, but always too soon for him. He's loath to part; he lingers and dangles, and I stand cooling my heels.-O, to the devil I pitch such a life!

Mus. Why don't you strive to reclaim the vile man then?

Will. Softly, not so fast; I have my talent to be sure! yes, yes, I have my talent; some influence over my master's mind:-But can you suppose that I have power to turn the drift of his inclinations, and lead him as I please and to whom?-to his wife! Pshaw! ridiculous, foolish, and absurd!

Mus. Mighty well, sir! can you proceed?

Will. I tell you, a wife is out of date now-a-days; time was-but that's all over-a wife's a drug now; mere tar-water, with every virtue under heaven, but no body takes it.

Mus. Well, I swear I could slap your impudent face.
Will. Come and kiss me, I say-

Mus. A fiddle-stick for your kisses!-while you encourage your master to open rebellion against the best of wives

Will. I tell you, it's her own fault; why don't she strive to please him, as you do me?-Come, throw your arms about neck

my

Mus. Ay, as I used to do, Mr. Brazen !-Hush! My lady's bell rings.-How long has he been up?-When did he come home?

Will. At five this morning; rubbed his forehead, damn'd himself for a blockhead, went to bed in a peevish humour, and is now in tiptop spirits with Sir Brilliant Fashion, in the next room. [Bell rings. Mus. O lud! that bell rings again-There, there, let me be gone. [She kisses him, and exit.

Will. There goes high and low life contrasted in one person: 'tis well I have not told her the whole of my master's secrets: she'll blab that he visits this widow from Bath. But if they inquire, they'll be told he does not-The plot lies deeper than they are aware of, and so they will only get into a puzzle-hush !—yonder comes my master and Sir Brilliant-Let me get out of the way. Here Tom, help me to take away the things.

[Exeunt.

Enter LOVEMORE and SIR BRILLIANT FASHION.

Lov. Ha! ha!-my dear Sir Brilliant-I must both pity and laugh at you-I'll swear thou art metamorphosed into the most whimsical being!—

Sir Bril. Nay, pr'ythee, Lovemore, truce with your raillery-it is for sober advice that I apply to you

Love. Sober advice!-ha! ha!-Thou art very far gone indeed.-Sober advice! There is no such thing as talking seriously and soberly to the tribe of loversThat eternal absence of mind that possesses ye allThere is no society with you-I was damnable company myself, when I was one of the pining herd; but a dose of matrimony has brought me back again to myself; has cooled me pretty handsomely, I assure you ;-Ay! and here comes repetatur Haustus.

Enter MUSLIN.

Mus. My lady sends her compliments, and desires to know how you are this morning?

Love. O lord! my head aches woefully-it's the devil to be teased in this manner-What did you say, child?

Mus. My lady sent to know how you do, sir

Love. O, right!-your lady-give her my compliments, and I am very well: tell her

Mus. She begs you won't think of going out without seeing her.

Love. There again now!-tell her-tell her what you will-I shall be glad to see her-I'll wait on her-any thing-what you will.

Mus. I shall let my lady know, sir.

[Exit.

Love. My dear Sir Brilliant, you see I am an example before your eyes- -Put the Widow Bellmour entirely out of your head, and let my Lord Etheridge

Sir Bril. Positively no!-My pride is piqued, and if I can, my Lord Etheridge shall find me a more formidable rival than he is aware of.

Enter WILLIAM,

Will. Sir Bashful Constant is in his chariot at the upper end of the street, and has sent his servant to know if your honour is at home. Love. By all means- -I shall be glad to see Sir Bashful. [Exit WILLIAM.] Now here comes another mortifying instance to deter you from all thoughts of marriage..

Sir Bril. Pshaw! hang him; he is no instance for me a younger brother, who has lived in middling life; comes to an estate and a title on the death of a consumptive baronet, marries a woman of quality, and carries the primitive ideas of his narrow education into high life-Hang him!-he is no example for me.

Love. But he is a good deal improved since that time. Sir Bril. Po! a mere Hottentot; unacquainted with life, blushes every moment, and looks suspicious, as if he imagined you have some design upon him.

Love. Why, I fancy, I can explain that-I have found out a part of his character lately.-You must know, there is nothing he dreads so much as being an object of ridicule: and so, let the customs and fashions of the world be ever so absurd, he complies, lest he should be laughed at for being particular.