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dingy cloud coming over the natural sunshine of your nature. Your wife's charming! Ah! now I recollectSir Charles Creamly was your guardian; you married his daughter; and thus settled his accounts.

Charles. The truth is, I married because my guardian 80 arranged it. I lead a life--but never mind. I am in for it. The fact is. my wife is a little too grave. She belongs to what is styled a serious family,

Capt. A fellow like you marrying into a serious family ha! ha! that's beautiful. [Sleek groans.] Oh! murther what have I said ?

Charles. (Changing his tone.] Yes, Captain Maguire, we are all serious here.

Capt. But you may be too serious. A charming crea ture, like Mrs. Torrens, should be seen driving a pony chaise in the Parks, or dispensing the rays of her beauty from the opera-box. And at your time of life, Charley this gravity is infernal folly. Get out of it-cast it from you. Would

you grow old before your time? Bad luck to your sober-sided, muddy-minded people! I hate you Cantwell's! Am I not right, Mr. Sleek ?

[Crosses and slups Sleek on the back Charles. [Aside.] His lines have fallen in pleasant place: -Cantwell, indeed !

Capt. He musn't lock up his wife ; the young creature will mope herself to death.—You are of my opinion, ar'n

you, sir?

eck. [Down c.) Um! They say that bachelors' wives and maidens' children are always well managed. Pray are you entered into the moral estate of wedlock, Captain Capt. No. (Changing his manner, as though innoyed by an un

pleasant reminiscence. Sleek. Nor engaged ?

Cap!. No; I've been infernally jilted by the greatest rascal of a coquette that ever was sent into the world to plague the heart out of a man—a woman I loved better a ihousand times than my own life.

Sleek. Um! You have been jilted ?

Capt. Your're right there, Mr. Sleek; but, as I couldn' call her out, I took my revenge, and went to sea.

Sleck. Um! And the sea has cooled your passion?

: Capt. To be sure it did, Sleek; and now I hate her more intolerably than ever I loved her.

Sleek. Uin! No danger of a relapse?

Capt. Not a bit of it, Sleek; for to save myself from the one, I make love to twenty. And I've come to London to take a round of dissipation ; and, for that reason, I stay with my old friend--for he knows every spot on the cards. Eh! Charley, my boy, we'll have a roaring time of it.

Enter SERVANT, C. Ser. Luncheon, sir.

Capt. That's your sort-faith, I'm as hungry as a huster! Come, Charley.

[He is leaving the room, followed by Charles, but the

latter is stopped by Lady Creamly and Mrs. Tor.

rens, who enter at the same time, Louy C. One moment, Mr. Toriens—{Captain follows the Servant.]-you will take these letters to the directors, and return'in half-an-hour, as we want to arrange a visiting for this evening?

Charles. Certainly, Lady Creamly. [Aside.] I'll have a day's shooting,

[Exit c. Sleck (Crosses to c. At last we have a moment to our. selves, dear ladies. Unpleasant consequences will arise from this unexpected visit.

Lady C. What an acquaintance for my son-in-law!
Sleek. A perfect Absalom !

Mrs. T. Well-looking and gentlemanlike, but evidently too much attached to the wicked world.

Lady C. A libertine !

Slcek. That's not all, dear ladies. Let him be profligate as he pleases, and we shall strive for his conversion; but he is in love with a coquette, by whom he has been deceived.

Mrs. T. Poor young man !

Sleek. And obliged to visit the metropolis, he is determined to console himself for an unfortunate passion by going through an extended circle of dissipation; in short, he is about to visit his old haunts of vice and sorrow, and for this he seeks in this virtuous mansion, he says, the former companion of his sinful pleasures. It suffices to turn my blood to verjuice.

Lady C. The wretched person !

Mrs. T. And my Charles the former companion of his pleasures !-a lamb !-an angel of goodness !-a man who never leaves his own home, except for a day's shooting. Then, certainly, he is not to be controlled-once the coveys are out, my husband will not stay at home.

Sleek. He always is after the coveys! But what is to be done?

Lady C. (To Mrs. T.] Child, all this is your fault-yes, your fault-your want of firmness and decision.

[Nods to Sleek. Sleek. Yes, certainly, honored madam, it is all your fault.

Lady C. When the abominable man said he was come to take up his quarters here, you should have recollected that there was not one room unoccupied.

Mrs. T. What! a friend of my husband's !-a gentleman that Charles is always speaking of, and whom he so well received !

Lady C. No matter; the presence of a libertine will compromise all our reputations. Your rooms should have been all occupied.

Mrs. T. But dear mamma, the truth [Crosses to c.

Lady C. Ah, my dear, the truth, when it is useful to be told

Sleek. My honored friend is right; all depends on circumstances. We make a great distinction between saying what is not and not saying what is, according to the object and intentions--this is high morality.

Lady C. And in this case our object is to rescue my son-in-law from the society of a person

Sleek. Whose example and perfidious counsels would open an abyss before him.

Mrs. T. Oh, Lady Creamly!
Lady C. Bad example is dangerous-

Sleek. And the human heart so weak, my honored friend. You hear that it is the intention of this person again to seek the acquaintance of those friends, from whose pernicious example you have withdrawn the husband of

your
bosom.

He is so weak he would again be led astray, and

Lady C. And then-
Mrs. T. My poor Charles ! But I certainly shall not

'permit a stranger, a person entirely unknown, to come and lead him away from his good habits. But what is to be done ? what plan can be devised ? Aid me with your counsels.

Sleek. It is almost too late.

Lady C. The only plan I can suggest is to request this person politely to go-politely-about his business

Sleek. Politely.

Mrs. T. I understand you; but how is that to be done? I could not dare attempt it. If you, my dear mamma, would take it upon yourself.

Lady C. Impossible, my child; it would look like dictating to you in your own house. Sleek. That is

very

true. Mrs. T. Well, then, Mr. Sleek, you will do it. It will add to the obligations we already owe you.

Sleek. Excuse me; these Hibernians are of such explosive natures, that it is quite possible he might forget my size, and the respect due to it. Mr. Torrens himself would be the proper person.

Lady C. No, that cannot be; they must not meet; and to make the matter more sure, we will send Charles for a few days in the country.

Mrs. T. He goes too often already, mamma.

Lady C. That is the wisest plan; and in the mean time, we will adopt a coolness of manner towards this intruder, which will make him more circumspect, and give him no inclination to remain in a house where the principles of those in it are so different from his own.

Capt. Maguire speaks without. Sleek. Ha ! here he comes, the sinful man of sanguin

ary war!

Enter CAPTAIN MAGUIRE, c, down R. Capt. Upon my faith, your substantial hospitality lays me under infinite obligation. Better port I never tasted.

Lady C. [Crosses to Maguire, austerely.] Captain Murphy Maguire, I have important orders to give, and am on the point of

[Exit, bowing very stiffly, c. Capt. (Looks astonished, but bows profoundly in return. He then turns to Mrs. Torrens.] Then to you, my dear madam, the wife of my old friend

.

Mrs. T. (Following Lady C., and bowing in the most precise manner.] You must also excuse me, Captain Maguire ; I shall be too late for the meeting.

Exit. Capt. (Looks more amazed, but bows to the ground, then turning to Sleek, goes up to him and offers his hand in a cordial style.) Well, Mr. Sleek, the ladies appear to be monstrously engaged ; the pleasure of entertaining me is reserved for you.

Sleek, (r.) [Taking out his watch.] Excuse, me, sir, I have not an instant to lose. The meeting cannot commence without me.

[Looks angrily at Maguire, and exit, c. Capt. What the devil does all this mean? Oh, if that's the case, there's not a word to be said. Does it mean the cold shoulder ? Is it to cut me they mean? But I'll not believe it—it's impossible, and what's impossible is not in nature. Oh, Charles Torrens, wife, and family, wouldn't be capable of behaving so shabbily to his old friend. Wait awhile, Captain Murphy Maguire, and syllogize a bit. This is a serious family. There's the old lady, as stiff as a ramrod, and as grey as an overall. Mr. Sleek, a shuffling, canting old robber; and the pretty Mrs. Torrens, with her sweet face, charming air, and saint-like look; and then Charley himself, instead of the free-hearted, devil-may-care fellow I knew him at college, has become as solemn and demure as a volume of “ The Pilgrim's Progress." There is a mystery in all this, which must be unraveled !

Emma peeps on. Emma. He is quite alone. (Runs in.] Ah, dear Captain Maguire!

Capt. (Not recognizing her.) On my faith, I am greatly flattered by your recollection, but really

Emma. What, don't you know your old playmate, Emma?

Capt. Is it possible! You, the darling little Emmy that I left a child, and who now, I must say, is a very charming young lady?

Emma. (Pouting. No, I am not a charming young lady; I am a very disagreeable, unhappy creature. I am sure I am very ugly.

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