Conquest gave it to me. I live with my Lady Conquest, madam.

Lady R. What a complexion she has! How long have you lived in London ?

Mar. Three years, madam.

Lady R. In London three years with that complexion! it can't be: perhaps she is painted: all these creatures paint. You are all so many painted dolls. [Rubs her face with a white handkerchief.] No, it does not come off. So, Mrs. Tattle, you bring your fresh country girls here to my house, do you?

Go

Tat. Upon my credit, ma'am

see you

Lady R. Don't tell me: I see through this affair.you about your business, mistress, and let me never about my doors again. Go, go your ways. Mar. Lord, ma'am, I shan't trouble your house.Mrs. Tattle, a good day. Here's a deal to do, indeed! I have as good a house as her's to go to, whatever she may think of herself.

[Exit. Lady R. There, there, there! see there; she goes off in a huff! the way with them all.-Ay, I see how it is, Tattle; you false, ungrateful that gown was never given her by a woman, she had that from Sir John. Where is Sir John?

Tat. Sir John an't at home, ma'am.

Lady R. Where is he? Where is he gone? When did he go out?

Tat. I really don't know, ma'am.

Lady R. Tattle, I know you fib now: but I'll sift this to the bottom. I'll write to my Lady Conquest, to know the truth about that girl that was here but now.

Tat. You will find I told you truth, ma'am.

Lady R. Very well, Mrs. Pert. I'll go and write this moment. Send Robert, to give me an account of his master. Sir John, Sir John, you will distract me.

[Exeunt.

Enter BELINDA and Beverley.

Belin. Ay! but that quickness, that extreme sensibility, is what I am afraid of. I positively would not have a jealous husband for the world.

Bev. By heaven! no earthly circumstance shall ever make me think injuriously of you.-Jealousy!-ha, ha! -it is the most ridiculous passion!—ha, ha!

Belin. You may laugh, sir; but I know your overrefining temper too well, and I absolutely will have it in our marriage articles, that I must not be plagued with your suspicions.

Bev. I subscribe, maʼam.

Belin. I will have no inquiries where I am going to visit;—no following me from place to place: and if we should chance to meet, and you should perceive a man of wit, or a pretty fellow, speaking to me, I will not have you fidgetting about on your chair, knitting your brow, and looking at your watch-" My dear, is it not time to go home?—my love, the coach is waiting:"-and then, if you are prevailed upon to stay, I will not have you converse with a “ Yes, sir,” and a “No, sir,” for the rest of the evening, and then wrangle with me in the carriage all the way home, and not be commonly civil to me for the rest of the night. I positively will have none of this.

Bev. Agreed, ma'am, agreed-I subscribe to every thing you can ask. You shall have what female friends you please: lose your money to whom you please ;dance with what beau you please ;—ride out with whom you please ;-go to what china shop you please ;— and, in short, do what you please, without my attempting to bribe your footman, or your maid, for secret intelligence.

Belin. O lud! O lud! that is in the very strain of jealousy.-Deliver me! there is my father yonder, and Sir William Bellmont with him. Fly this instant-fly, Mr. Beverley, down that walk-any where

Bev. You promise then

Belin. Don't talk to me now-what would you be at?—I am yours, and only yours; unalterably so.— Fly-begone!-leave me this moment.

Bev. I obey-I am gone

[Exit.

Belin. Now are they putting their wise heads together to thwart all my schemes of happiness: but love, imperious love, will have it otherwise.

Enter MR. BLANDFORD and SIR WILLIAM BELLMONT. Bland. Sir William, since we have agreed upon every thing

Sir W. Why yes, Mr. Blandford, I think every thing is settled.

Bland. Why then, we have only to acquaint the young people with our intentions, and so conclude the affair without delay.

Sir W. That is all, sir.

Bland. As to my girl, I don't mind her nonsense about Beverley: she must do as I will have her.

Sir W. And my son too, he must follow my directions. As to his telling me of his love for Clarissa, it is all a joke with me. Children must do as their parents

will have them.

Bland. Ay, so they must, and so they shall.-Hey! here is my daughter!-So, Belinda !- -Well, my girl, Sir William and I have agreed, and you are to prepare for marriage, that's all.

Belin. With Mr. Beverley, sir?

Bland. Mr. Beverley !

Belin. You know you encouraged him yourself, sir. Bland. Well, well! I have changed my mind on that head. My friend, Sir William here, offers you his son. Do as I advise you have a care, Belinda, how you disobey my commands.

Belin. But, sir

Bland. But, madam, I must and will be obeyed.—

You don't like him, you say; but I like him, and that's sufficient for you.

Sir W. And so it is, Mr. Blandford. If my son pretended to have a will of his own, I should let him know to the contrary.

Belin. And can you, Sir William, against our inclination, force us both?

Bland. Hold your tongue, Belinda; don't provoke me. What makes you from home? Go your ways back directly, and settle your mind. I tell you once for all, I will have my own way. Come, Sir William, we will step to the lawyer's chambers. Go home, Belinda, and be observant of my commands.-Come, Sir William.— What did you say? [To BELINDA.] You mutiny, do you? Don't provoke me.—You know, Belinda, I am an odd sort of a man when provoked. Lookye here;-mind what I say; I won't reason with you about the matter; -my power is absolute, and if you offer to rebel, you shall have no husband at all, with my consent. I'll cut you off with a shilling;-I'll see you starve; beg an alms; live miserable; die wretched; in short, suffer any calamity, without the least compassion from me. If I find you an undutiful girl, I cast you off for ever. So there's one word for all.

[Exit.-SIR WILLIAM follows him. Belin. What will become of me!—his inhumanity overcomes me quite—I can never consent;—the very sight of this picture is enough to forbid it. O, Beverley, you are master of my heart! I'll go this instant-and-heavens! I can scarce move. I am ready

to faint.

Enter SIR JOHN.

Sir John. No tidings of her far or near.

Belin. How I tremble!-I shall fall-no help.

Sir John. What do I see!—a young lady in distress!
Belin. Oh!-

[Faints in his arms, and drops the picture.

Sir John. She is fallen into a fit.-Would my servants were in the way!

LADY RESTLESS, at the window.

Lady R. Where can this barbarous man be gone to? -How!-under my very window!

Sir John. How cold she is!-quite cold

[Lays his hand on her cheek.

Lady R. How familiar he is with her!

Sir John. And yet she looks beautiful still.
Lady R. Does she so?

Sir John. Her eyes open-How lovely they look!
Lady R. Traitor!

Sir John. Her cheek begins to colour. Well, young lady, how fare you now, my dear?

Lady R. My dear, too!

Belin. Heavens! where am I?

Sir John. Repose yourself awhile; or will you step into my house?

Lady R. No, truly, shan't she. Vile man! I will come down to you directly, and flash confusion in your face. [Exit from above. Sir John. Where do you live, madam? Belin. In Queen's Square, sir, by the side of the Park.

Sir John, I will wait upon you :-trust yourself with me-You look much better now-Lean on my arm. There, there, I will conduct you.[Exeunt.

Enter LADY RESTLESS.

Lady R. Now I'll make one among ye.-How! fled! -gone!—which way?-Is not that he, yonder?-No -he went into my house, I dare say, as I came down stairs.-Tattle! Tattle! Robert! Will nobody an

Tat. La, ma'am, how should I know?