Mrs. Knight. Oh, my lord, I am sure Sir Anthony is too noble to let the sordid consideration of money be a bar to the happiness of two faithful lovers

Sir A. Bran. On the contrary, madam, I am charmed that my nephew has such an opportunity of shewing the generosity inherent in the family of the Branvilles, by contemning riches, in comparison of beauty.

Col. Med. Indeed, Sir Anthony, he deserves all your affection; for though I know he dotes on my sister, yet hearing that you addressed her, he resolved to give her up.

Mrs. Knight. Generous young man!

Sir A. Bran. Ah, ladies, see what delight the little sportive god takes in persecuting us true lovers!-My lord, if my nephew has your consent, I assure you, I will render him in point of fortune, worthy of the lady of his heart.

Lord Med. Sir, after an instance of such generosity, your alliance must be doubly acceptable to me.

Mrs. Knight. And now, Sir Anthony, I hope you will return to your lawful sovereign.

Sir A. Bran. Arbitress of my fate, thus I reassume my happy bondage

[He kneels, and takes Mrs. Knightly's hand.

Enter Sir HARRY and Lady FLUTTER.

Sir H. Flut. What the deuce is all this! my uncle in heroics at my widow's feet! every thing's topsyturvy, I think-My lord! Lady Medway! an explanation quickly, for Heaven's sake! Miss Medway

gave us a hint of some strange things that were going forward here What are you all about?

Lady Flut. Dear Mrs. Knightly, I absolutely die with curiosity!

Sir H. Flut. My dear, that's a disease that will never kill you, for you have been wonderfully subject to it ever since you and I were acquainted.

Lady Flut. Pr'ythee, Sir Harry, let your tongue keep pace with your wit, and then you will not talk so fast.-Tell me, do, Mrs. Knightly.

Sir H. Flut. No, don't, Mrs. Knightly-My dear, you really put me in mind of the cat in the fable, who was metamorphosed into a fine lady; but upon the first temptation-slap-egad she was a cat again. Lady Flut. And you put me in mind

Lady Med. Take care, my dear, take care.

[Draws her aside.

Lord Med. Beware of a relapse, Lady Flutter, you are now happy if you are inclined to continue so.

[Aside to her. Lady Flut. So, my lord! who has metamorphosed you, pray?

Lord Med. Lady Medway.

Mrs. Knight. My dear Lady Flutter, you shall know all at another opportunity. For the present, I am sure it will give you pleasure to wish the colonel and my sister joy on their happy union, to which my lord has consented. You are to congratulate Miss Medway too on her approaching nuptials with Mr. Branville.

Sir A. Bran. And you are to felicitate me, niece Flutter, on being permitted the transcendent happiness of once more basking in the sunshine of this lady's favour.

Lord Med. And you are all to congratulate me, upon a double occasion; first, on that of being perfectly blessed in domestic joys; and next, that of seeing me a thoroughly reformed man.

[Exeunt omnes.

M

EPILOGUE.

WHAT strange odd maggots fill an author's pate!
A female court of justice-rare conceit !
Ladies, give you joy of your new stations,
I think you've had a trial—of your patience.
What, five long acts, and not one pleasant sally !
But grave Sir Anthony's attempt to rally——
No sprightly rendezvous, no pretty fellows,
No wife intriguing, nor no husband jealous!
If to such innovations you submit,
And swallow tame morality for wit;
If such dull rules you let a woman teach,
Her next attempt, perhaps, will be to—preach.
I told her (for it vexed me to the heart)
Madam- -excuse me—I don't like my part-
'Tis out of nature—never drawn from life,
Who ever heard of such a passive wife?
To bear so much-ʼtis not in flesh and blood—
Such females might have liv'd before the flood.
But now the character will seem so flat,
Give me threats, tears, hysterics, and all that—
If this don't work upon my lord, I hope
You'll so contrive the plot-I may elope.
Take my advice, I think I know the town,
Without such aids
Piece will scarce go
your

down.

Hold, friend, she cry'd-I think I've hit the way
To reconcile both sexes to the play;

For, while the prologue bids our own be sovʼreign,
The scenes instruct the other how to govern.
A harmless plot-with credit to dismiss
The Piece-you know the ladies never hiss.
And though they should condemn it, yet the men sure
Will leave a woman's faults to women's censure.
They, prone to meekness, charity, and love,
Are always silent where they cann't approve.
But if at loud applause we dare to aim,
It is the men must ratify our claim.

THE END.