Mont. Eh! fits the wind in that corner-it muft fhift, and speedily too-[Afide.] Why, zounds, your morality has not ftumbled on a married woman to flirt with?

Sir Harry. A married woman!

Mont. Not quite indeed as to forms;-but Lord Visage and his Nephew are expected every hour;-and the knot will then be tied without further delay.

Sir Harry. Do you know any thing of this young Vifage?

Mont. Not I!--but they fay he is one of the finest fellows breathing.

Sir Harry. Conftance likes the match then.

Mont. Did you never hear her fpeak of it?-Tis the very delirium of paffion.

Sir Harry. Why, fhe never faw him.

Mont. That is true,-no! -She never faw him ;-but his picture fhe has, and then his reputation.

Sir Harry. You feem to dwell on it with peculiar fatiffaction.-Fool that I was, to hazard a declaration under fuch circumstances; if I thought she had not seen the verfes,—perhaps they are yet on her harp.-[Afide.]-Do you know, Sir, I begin to be weary of this your name of Montagu.

Mont. That is more than I am of your title of Sir Harry. I would not pay the name of Cecil fo bad a compliment.

Sir Harry. Why Sir,-why was I betrayed into this fcheme?

Mont. Nay, it was your own.

Sir Harry. Where then was your friendship; you fhould have check'd my wild, fantaftic humour-not urged

me on.

Mont. Nay, ferioufly-I fee no reafon for regret-in compliance with a pleasant romantic whim of the mo ment-we have changed names and characters.-You have taken mine of Montague-I yours of Sir Hárry ;-a deception indeed it is ;-but furely a most innocent one.

Sir Harry. I fear, Sir, no deception can be innocent :have we not imposed on a whole family? they received us with hospitality, and we return it with a lie.

Mont. You speak of us, as of common adventurers ;if you were not really the Baronet, whofe perfon and character I represent, we might hold this language ;—but fince 'tis merely a change between us-excentric, as the refinement may be, that tempted you to take my name of Montague ;-the present wish to discover us, is ftill more fo-juft at the moment of fuccefs.

Sir Harry. Success!

Mont. The very child of your wish,-a girl that doats on you, even in this your poverty,-that has rejected me and 5000l. a-year, for you and a knapfack; the lovely accomplished Harriet-since it must out-she confefsed it to me-with streaming eyes, and—a candor, which, in spite of the mortification, (no trifling one, let me tell you,) efteem-that

won my

Sir Harry. Hold, hold!-How cruelly have I involved: myself-enamoured to distraction of a woman that views me with indifference.-A few common attentions have entangled me with another I can only esteem.-[Aside.] Harriet is an amiable girl ;—and if I were convinced-(Sir Paul and Lady Panick wrangling behind the scenes).

Mont. Here are Sir Paul and Lady Panick-you shall hear more. Did you obferve her look when you came in?

Sir Harry. I must own I did.

Mont. Enviable Cecil-that look would have made me the happiest of men.

Enter Sir Paul and Lady Panick.

[Exit.

Sir Paul. Don't tell me, my Lady-paint the house contaminate the very air I breathe.

Lady Panick. Nay-you need not come near it, Sir Paul.

Sir Paul. Zounds, I should drink it in at every pore→→ fwallow poifon by quarts-I am bloated at the thought!

Lady Panick. Muft not I have my theatre fitted up for the winter months?-is not that reafon ?-Would you have me play tragedies in warm weather-or figh fentiment in the dog-days?-Befides-Lord Vifage expects it in compliment to his Nephew's marriage with Conftancewere not the preparations left to me-have I not his proxy?

Sir Paul. Yes, yes-his Lordfhip will poifon by proxy, -no doubt;—but he shall not play off his privileged tricks on me. I'll not be prevailed on to quaff down columns of peftilential vapour.

Lady Panick. I tell you-'tis abfolutely filthy-have you no ideas of cleanlinefs, Sir Paul?

Sir Paul. Cleanlinefs !-Zounds, my houfe my Lady is not an Augean ftable, to have a river turn'd through it twice a week-do you think I am amphibious as a Dutchman-or that I have the conftitution of a water-rat?

Lady Panick. Sir Paul, Sir Paul!-you are a mere drudge to the falfe notions of a mock prudence, and take infinitely more pains to prevent an evil-than the curing it would require.

Sir Paul. Do I not fucceed?-Have I ever a moment's illness?

Lady Panick. Have you ever a moment's health? Do you not vifit every empiric in town?-Does not the prefs groan with certificates of your restoration, and your name is as conftantly found at the bottom of their bills, as the blue lamp over the door - you facrifice every thing to your ridiculous fears-was I not obliged to give up vifiting the dowager duchefs, because you would not fuffer her to bring little Pompey?

Sir Paul. And, zounds-my Lady-did not little Pompey go off in a fit of the hydrophobia?

Lady Panick. And what then, Sir Paul? as it was, you

infifted

infifted my whole establishment should go through a course of the Ormskirk :-besides, fome trifles must be overlook'd, if you wish for an intercourfe with people of fashion.-I could have introduced you into the firft caft of characters; and you would hardly fuffer yourfelf to be propofed at the club.

Sir Paul. And was I not black-ball'd at the club ?

Lady Panick. How could it be otherwife?-you would not canvass, Sir Paul; do you think people get into the Chit-Chat as they would get into a rotten borough ?-but the little flights of fashion you call fatigue-nay you call every thing fatigue.-I wonder what you married me for?

Sir Paul. Really, my Lady, I am not cafuift enough to determine. Is my peace to be constantly facrificed to your caprice-all my caution given up?

Lady Panick. Pretty caution indeed !-fummer fursand a dozen magnets dangling at your neck.

Sir Paul. Facts are ftubborn, my Lady, facts are stubborn; was not every body with muffled throats and knockers, while I had not even a tickling?

Lady Panick. No, but you poison'd all the rooms with the fumes of tobacco, and I know not what-made every vifitor perform Quarantine-and forbade Dr. Diet the house, for fear he should bring contagion in the plaits of his hofpital fuit-nay, you broke off all connection with our good neighbour the Alderman.

Sir Paul. Good neighbour !-aye, that is one of your civil importunate families-driving their good things down your throat.-Zounds! I never enter'd their den - that I did not eat myself into a Plethora to fatisfy the wifeand drink myself almost dropfical to oblige the hufband.

Enter Subtle with a letter, introduced by Tony.
Tony. Mr. Subtle, Lord Vifage's man, my Lady.
Lady Panick. What! is Lord Vifage arrived?
Subt. Your Ladyfhip will find by that letter.

Lady Panick. How! You need not wait. [Exit Subtle and Tony. Reads aloud.] "I fhall follow this in a few inftants myself—but what I have to communicate "does not admit even of that delay. The marriage of "Conftance and my Nephew cannot take place; he is "unworthy of her. I have now discover'd what a long "abfence had kept from my knowledge, that his perfon "and fortune are the victims of diflipation. I have paid "his debts, and fent him abroad. Till we meet," &c.

Sir Paul. Ay, there I always expected as much, and recommended that Sir Harry should not have received fo pofitive a rejection; but that you laughed at, as one of my ridiculous precautions.

Lady Panick. Why, do you fuppofe he will not renew his addrefies? Will you feek him?-With your cautious management, my dear, we could not fail.

Sir Paul. Why really, my Lady-I made fo desperate a plunge myself, that, whatever may be my opinion on this fubject-upon my foul I have not the face to offer a word. (Going.)

Lady Panick. Was there ever circumftance fo provoking? Juft as my preparations were completed, and I was ready to blaze forth in all the luftre of fplendid elegance. Then my Epithalamium too, which every body faid was the prettiest thing I ever wrote-to have it—a mere dead letter, after all! [Exit.

Sir Paul, (calling after her.) No, no, my dear, as you took care to fhew it in confidence to every creature with whom you had the moft diftant acquaintance, I don't think its publicity will be at all affected. [Exit.

SCENE. A Dreffing-room, with a Harp, &c.

Enter Conftance, follorved by Lucy.

Conf. Heigh-ho-What a world of perplexity have I to encounter! the hufband destined for me by my guardians expected every hour-and the unconscious of the paffion he has infpired!

man I love,

Dame Na

ture