Lord T. Madam, madam, you would make a man a fool! Lady T. If heaven has made you otherwise, that won't be in my power. Lord T. Whatever may be in your inclination, madam, I'll prevent you making me a beggar at least. Lady T. A beggar! Croesus! I am out of patience! -I won't come home till four to-morrow morning. Lord T. That may be, madam; but I'll order the doors to be locked at twelve. Lady T. Then I won't come home till to-morrow night. Lord T. Then, madam, you shall never come home again. [Exit. Lady T. What does he mean? I never heard such a word from him in my life before! The man always used to have manners, in his worst humours.-There's something that I don't see, at the bottom of all this-But his head's always upon some impracticable scheme or other; so I won't trouble mine any longer about him. Enter MANLY. Mr. Manly, your servant! Man. I ask pardon for intrusion, madam; but I hope my business with my lord will excuse it. Lady T. I believe you'll find him in the next room, sir. Man. Will you give me leave, madam? Lady T. Sir, you have my leave, though you were a lady. Man. What a well-bred age do we live in! [Aside. Exit. Enter LADY GRACE. Lady T. Oh, my dear lady Grace! how could you leave me so unmercifully alone, all this while? Lady G. I thought my lord had been with you, Lady T. Why yes; and therefore I wanted your relief; for he has been in such a duster hereLady G. Bless me! for what? Lady T. Only our usual breakfast! we have each of us had our dish of matrimonial comfort this morning— We have been charming company! Lady G. I am mighty glad of it! sure it must be a vast happiness when a man and wife can give themselves the same turn of conversation! Lady T. Oh, the prettiest thing in the world! Lady G. Now I should be afraid, that where two people are every day together so, they must often be in want of something to talk upon. Lady T. Oh, my dear, you are the most mistaken in the world! married people have things to talk of, child, that never enter into the imagination of others.-Why, here's my lord and I, now; we have not been married above two short years, you know, and we have already eight or ten things constantly in bank, that whenever we want company, we can take up any one of them for two hours together, and the subject never the flatter; nay, if we have occasion for it, it will be as fresh next day too as it was the first hour it entertained us. Lady G. Certainly, that must be vastly pretty! aw Lady T. Oh, there's no life like it! Why, t'other day, for example, when you dined abroad, my lord and I, after a pretty, cheerful, tête-à-tête meal, sat us down by the fire-side, in an easy, indolent, pick-tooth way, for about a quarter of an hour, as if we had not thought of any other's being in the room-At last, stretching himself and yawning-"My dear" says he-you came home very late last night"""Twas but just turned of two," says I- "I was in bedaw -by eleven," says he- "So you are every night," "Well," says he, "I am amazed you can sit -"How can you be amazed," says I, "at a thing that happens so often?"-Upon which we entered -and though this is a point has entertained us above fifty times already, we always find so many, pretty, new things to say upon it, that I believe in my soul it will last as long as we live. says I up so late" into a conversation Lady G. But pray, in such sort of family dialogues (though extremely well for passing the time), don't there now and then enter some little witty sort of bitterness? Lady T. Oh, yes! which does not do amiss at all—A smart repartee, with a zest of recrimination at the head of it, makes the prettiest sherbet! Ay, ay, if we did not mix a little of the acid with it, a matrimonial society would be so luscious that nothing but an old liquorish prude would be able to bear it. Lady G. Well, certainly you have the most elegant taste Lady T. Though, to tell you the truth, my dear, I rather think we squeezed a little too much lemon into it this bout; for it grew so sour at last, that—I think -I almost told him he was a fool-and he again-talked something oddly of-turning me out of doors. Lady G. O, have a care of that! Lady T. Nay, if he should, I may thank my own wise father. for it. But to be serious, my dear, what would you really have a woman do in my case? Lady G. Why-if I had a sober husband, as you have, I would make myself the happiest wife in the world, by being as sober as he. Lady T. Oh, you wicked thing! how can you tease one at this rate, when you know he is so very sober, that, except giving me money, there is not one thing in the world he can do to please me. And I, at the same time, partly by nature, and partly perhaps by keeping the best company, do with my soul love almost every thing he hates. I dote upon assemblies-my heart bounds at a ball-and at an opera-I expire.Then I love play to distraction!-cards enchant meand dice-put me out of my little wits-Dear, dear hazard! Oh, what a flow of spirits it gives one!-Do you never play at hazard, child? Lady G. Oh, never! I don't think it sits well upon women-there's something so masculine, so much the air of a rake in it! You see how it makes the men swear and curse! and when a woman is thrown into the same passion-why Lady T. That's very true; one is a little put to it, sometimes, not to make use of the same words to express it. Lady G. Well, and upon ill luck, pray what words are you really forced to make use of? Lady T. Why, upon a very hard case indeed, when a sad wrong word is rising just to oue's tongue's end, I give a great gulp-and swallow it. Lady G. Well, and is not that enough to make you forswear play as long as you live? Lady T. Oh, yes I have forsworn it. Lady T. Solemnly!—a thousand times; but then one is constantly forsworn. Lady G. And how can you answer that? Lady T. My dear, what we say when we are losers, we look upon to be no more binding than a lover's oath or a great man's promise. But I beg pardon, child, I should not lead you so far into the world; you are a prude, and design to live soberly. Lady G. Why, I confess, my nature and my education do, in a good degree, incline me that way. Lady T. Well, how a woman of spirit (for you don't want that, child) can dream of living soberly, is to me inconceivable! for you will marry, I suppose? Lady G. I can't tell but I may. Lady T. And won't you live in town? Lady G. Half the year I should like it very well. Lady T. My stars! and you would really live in London half the year, to be sober in it? Lady G. Why not? Lady T. Why, can't you as well go and be sober in the country? Lady G. So I would-t'other half year. Lady T. And pray what comfortable scheme of life would you form, now, for your summer and winter sober entertainments? Lady G. A scheme that, I think, might very well content us. Lady T. Oh, of all things, let's hear it. Lady G. Why, in summer I could pass my leisure hours in reading, walking by a canal, or sitting at the end of it under a great tree; in dressing, dining, chatting with an agreeable friend; perhaps hearing a little music, taking a dish of tea, or a game at cards, soberly; managing my family, looking into its accounts, playing with my children, if I had any, or in a thousand other innocent amusements-soberly; and possibly, by these means, I might induce my husband to be as sober as myself. Lady T. Well, my dear, thou art an astonishing creature! for sure such primitive, antediluvian notions of life have not been in any head these thousand years -Under a great tree! Oh, my soul!-But I beg we may have the sober town scheme too-for I am charmed with the country one! Lady G. You shall; and I'll try to stick to my sobriety there too. Lady T. Well, though I'm sure it will give me the vapours, I must hear it, however. Lady G. Why then, for fear of your fainting, madam, I will first so far come into the fashion, that I would never be dressed out of it--but still it should be soberly; for I can't think it any disgrace to a woman of my private fortune, not to wear her lace as fine as the weddingsuit of a first duchess. Though there is one extravagance I would venture to come up to. Lady T. Ay, now for it! Lady G. I would every day be as neat as a bride. Lady T. Why the men say that's a great step to be made one-Well, now you are dressed, pray let's see to what purpose. Lady G. I would visit—that is, my real friends; but as little for form as possible.--I would go to court; sometimes to an assembly, nay, play at quadrillesoberly: I would see all the good plays, and, because 'tis the fashion, now and then an opera-but I would not expire there, for fear I should never go again; and lastly, I can't say, but for curiosity, if I liked my company, I might be drawn in once to a masquerade; and this, I think, is as far as any woman can go-soberly. |