Sir G. What devil possessed me to talk about her! -Here, Doricourt! [Running after him.] Doricourt! Enter MRS. RACKETT and MISS OGLE, followed by a SERVANT. Mrs. R. Acquaint your lady, that Mrs. Rackett and Miss Ogle are here. [Exit SERVANT. Miss O. I shall hardly know Lady Frances, 'tis so long since I was in Shropshire. Mrs. R. And I'll be sworn, you never saw her out of Shropshire. Her father kept her locked up with his caterpillars and shells; and loved her beyond any thing -but a blue butterfly, and a petrified frog! Miss O. Ha! ha! ha!-Well, 'twas a cheap way of breeding her :- -you know, he was very poor, though a lord; and very high spirited, though a virtuoso.-In town, her Pantheons, operas, and robes de cour, would have swallowed his sea weeds, moths, and monsters, in six weeks!Sir George, I find, thinks his wife a most extraordinary creature: he has taught her to despise every thing like fashionable life, and boasts that example will have no effect on her. Mrs. R. There's a great degree of impertinence in all that. I'll try to make her a fine lady, to humble him. Miss O. That's just the thing I wish. Enter LADY FRANCES. Lady F. I beg ten thousand pardons, my dear Mrs. Rackett.-Miss Ogle, I rejoice to see you: I should have come to you sooner, but I was detained in conversation by Mr. Doricourt. Mrs. R. Pray, make no apology; I am quite happy that we have your ladyship in town at last.-What stay you make? do Lady F. A short one! Sir George talks with regret of the scenes we have left; and, as the ceremony of presentation is over, will, I believe, soon return. Miss O. Sure, he can't be so cruel: does your ladyship wish to return so soon? Lady F. I have not the habit of consulting my own wishes; but, I think, if they decide, we shall not return immediately. I have yet hardly formed an idea of London. How Mrs. R. I shall quarrel with your lord and master, if he dares think of depriving us of you so soon. do you dispose of yourself to-day? Lady F. Sir George is going with me this morning to the mercer's, to choose a silk; and then——— Mrs. R. Choose a silk for you!-Ha! ha! ha! Sir George chooses your laces too, I hope; your gloves, and your pincushions! Lady F. Madam! Mrs. R. I am glad to see you blush, my dear, Lady Frances. These are strange homespun ways! If you do these things, pray keep them secret. Lord bless us! If the town should know your husband chooses your gowns! Miss 0. You are very young, my lady, and have been brought up in solitude. The maxims you learnt among wood nymphs, in Shropshire, won't pass current here, I assure you. Mrs. R. Why, my dear creature, you look quite frightened-Come, you shall go with us to an exhibition and an auction.-Afterwards, we'll take a turn in the Park, and then drive to Kensington; so we shall be at home by four to dress; and, in the evening, I'll attend you to Lady Brilliant's masquerade. Lady F. I shall be very happy to be of your party, if Sir George has no engagements. Mrs. R. What! do you stand so low in your own opinion, that you dare not trust yourself without Sir George? If you choose to play Darby and Joan, my dear, you should have stayed in the country ;-'tis an exhibition not calculated for London, I assure you. Miss O. What, I suppose, my lady, you and Sir George will be seen pacing it comfortably round the Canal, arm and arm, and then go lovingly into the same carriage; dine tête-a-tête, spend the evening at picquet, and so go soberly to bed at eleven!-Such a snug plan may do for an attorney and his wife; but, for Lady Frances Touchwood, 'tis as unsuitable as linsey-woolsey, or a black bonnet at the Festino! Lady F. These are rather new doctrines to me! But, my dear Mrs. Rackett, you and Miss Ogle must judge of these things better than I can. As you observe, I am but young, and may have caught absurd opinions. Here is Sir George! rob Enter SIR George. Sir G. [Aside.] 'Sdeath, another room full! Sir G. A few hours! Lady F. Oh, yes! I am going to an exhibition, and an auction, and the Park, and Kensington, and a thousand places!—It is quite ridiculous, I find, for married people to be always together.-We shall be laughed at! Sir G. I am astonished!-Mrs. Rackett, what does the dear creature mean? Mrs. R. Mean, Sir George!-What she says, I imagine. Miss O. Why, you know, sir, as Lady Frances had the misfortune to be bred entirely in the country, she cannot be supposed to be versed in fashionable life. Sir G. No; heaven forbid she should !-If she had, madam, she would never have been my wife! Mrs. R. Are you serious? Sir G. Perfectly so. I should never have had the courage to have married a well-bred fine lady. Miss O. Pray, sir, what do you take a fine lady to be, that you express such fear of her? [Sneeringly. Sir G. A being easily described, madam, as she is seen every where, but in her own house. She sleeps at home, but she lives all over the town. In her mind every sentiment gives place to the lust of conquest, and the vanity of being particular. The feelings of wife and mother, are lost in the whirl of dissipation. If she continues virtuous, 'tis by chance—and, if she preserves her husband from ruin, 'tis by her dexterity at the card table! Such a woman I take to be a perfect fine lady! Mrs. R. And you I take to be a slanderous cynic of two-and-thirty.-Twenty years hence, one might have forgiven such a libel!-Now, sir, hear my definition of a fine lady :—She is a creature for whom nature has done much, and education more; she has taste, elegance, spirit, understanding. In her manner she is free, in her morals nice. Her behaviour is undistinguishingly polite to her husband, and all mankind;—her sentiments are for their hours of retirement. In a word, a fine lady is the life of conversation, the spirit of society, the joy of the public!-Pleasure follows wherever she appears, and the kindest wishes attend her slumbers.— Make haste, then, my dear Lady Frances, commence fine lady, and force your husband to acknowledge the justness of my picture. Lady F. I am sure 'tis a delightful one. How can you dislike it, Sir George? You painted fashionable life in colours so disgusting, that I thought I hated it; but, on a nearer view, it seems charming. I have hitherto lived in obscurity; 'tis time that I should be a woman of the world. I long to begin;-my heart pants with expectation and delight! Mrs. R. Come, then; let us begin directly. I am impatient to introduce you to that society, which you were born to ornament and charm. Lady F. Adieu, my love! We shall meet again at dinner. [Going. Sir G. Sure, I am in a dream—Fanny! • Lady F. [Returning.] Sir George! Sir G. Will you go without me? Mrs. R. Will you go without me!-Ha! ha! ha! what a pathetic address! Why, sure, you would not always be seen, side by side, like two beans upon a stalk. Are you afraid to trust Lady Frances with me, sir? Sir G. Heaven and earth! with whom can a man trust his wife, in the present state of society? Formerly there were distinctions of character amongst ye: every class of females had its particular description; grandmothers were pious, aunts discreet, old maids censorious! but now, aunts, grandmothers, girls, and maiden gentlewomen, are all the same creature ;-a wrinkle more or less is the sole difference between ye. Mrs. R. That maiden gentlewomen have lost their censoriousness, is surely not in your catalogue of griev ances. Sir G. Indeed it is-and ranked amongst the most serious grievances.-Things went well, madam, when the tongues of three or four old virgins kept all the wives and daughters of a parish in awe. They were the dragons, that guarded the Hesperian fruit; and I wonder they have not been obliged, by act of parliament, to resume their function. Mrs. R. Ha ha! ha! and pensioned, I suppose, for making strict inquiries into the lives and conversations of their neighbours. Sir G. With all my heart, and empowered to oblige every woman to conform her conduct to her real situation. You, for instance, are a widow; your air should be sedate, your dress grave, your deportment matronly, |