you have changed rings, or broken an old broad piece between you! I would make a fool of any fellow in France. Well, I must confess, I do love a little coquetting with all my heart. My business should be to break gold with my lover one hour, and crack my promise the next; he should find me one day with a prayer-book in my hand, and with a play-book another. He should have my consent to buy the wedding-ring, and the next moment would I ask him his name.

Oriana. O, my dear! were there no greater tie upon my heart, than there is upon my conscience, I would soon throw the contract out of doors; but the mischief on't is, I am so fond of being tied, that I'm forced to be just, and the strength of my passion keeps down the inclination of my sex. Bis. But here's the old gentleman.

Enter OLD MIRABEL.

Old Mir. Where's my wenches? where's my two little girls? Eh! have a care--look to yourselves, 'faith, they're a coming; the travellers are a coming. Well, which of you two will be my daughter-in-law now? Bisarre, Bisarre, what say you, madcap? Mirabel is a pure wild fellow. Bis. I like him the worse.

words; I like her mainly: speak to her, man, pr'ythee, speak to her.

Y. Mir. Madam, here's a gentleman, who declares

Dur. Madam, don't believe him: I declare nothing. What the devil do you mean, man? Y.Mir. He says, madam, that you are as beautiful as an angel.

Dur. He tells a d-d lie, madam! I say no such thing. Are you mad, Mirabel? Why, I shall drop down with shame.

your

Y. Mir. And so, madam, not doubting but ladyship may like him as well as he does you, I think it proper to leave you together. (Going, Duretete holds him.)

Dur. Hold, hold. Why, Mirabel, friend, sure you won't be so barbarous as to leave me alone! Pr'ythee, speak to her for yourself, as it were. Lord, Lord, that a Frenchman should want impudence!

Y. Mir. You look mighty demure, madam. She's deaf, Captain.

Dur. I had much rather have her dumb.

Y. Mir. The gravity of your air, madam, promises some extraordinary fruits from your study, which moves us with curiosity to inquire the sub

Old Mir. Both? why, you young dog, d'ye banter me? Come, sir, take your choice. Duretete, you shall have your choice too, but Robin shall choose first. Come, sir, begin. Well, which d'ye Y. Mir. Both.

Old Mir. But which will you marry?
Y. Mir. Neither.

[like?

Old Mir. Neither? Don't make me angry now, Bob; pray, don't make me angry. Lookye, sirrah, if I don't dance at your wedding to-morrow, I shall be very glad to cry at your grave.

Y. Mir. That's a bull, father. Old Mir. A bull! Why, how now, ungrateful sir, did I make thee a man, that thou shouldst make me a beast? [expression. Y. Mir. Your pardon, sir; I only meant your Old Mir. Harkye, Bob, learn better manners to your father before strangers! won't be angry this time: but, oons! if ever you do't again, you rascal! Remember what I say. [Exit. Y. Mir. Psha! what does the old fellow mean by mewing me up here with a couple of green girls? Come, Duretete, will you go?

Oriana. I hope, Mr. Mirabel, you ha'n't forgot Y. Mir. No, no, madam, I ha'n't forgot, I have brought you a thousand little Italian curiosities; I'll assure you, madam, as far as a hundred pistoles would reach, I ha'n't forgot the least circumstance. Oriana. Sir, you misunderstand me.

Y. Mir, Odso! the relics, madam, from Rome. I do remember, now, you made a vow of chastity before my departure; a vow of chastity, or something like it was it not, madam?

Oriana. O sir, I'm answered at present. [Exit. Y. Mir. She was coming full mouth upon me with her contract: 'would I might despatch t'other!

Dur. Mirabel, that lady there, observe her; she's wondrous pretty, 'faith! and seems to have but few

be, she's mine this moment. Mirabel, d'ye think a Dur. I hope in the Lord she's speechless; if she

woman's silence can be natural?

Bis. But the forms which logicians introduce, and which proceed from simple enumeration, are dubitable, and proceed only upon admittance.

Y. Mir. Hoyty toyty! what a plague have we here? Plato in petticoats!

Dur. Ay, ay, let her go on, man; she talks in my own mother tongue.

Bis. Tis exposed to invalidity, from a contradictory instance; looks only upon common operations, and is infinite in its termination. Y. Mir. Rare pedantry!

Dur. Axioms! axioms! self-evident principles! Bis. Then the ideas wherewith the mind is preoccupate,-O, gentlemen, I hope you'll pardon my cogitation; I was involved in a profound point of philosophy, but I shall discuss it somewhere else, being satisfied, that the subject is not agreeable to you sparks, that profess the vanity of the times.

[Exit.

Y. Mir. Go thy way, good wife Bias. Do you hear, Duretete? Dost hear this starched piece of austerity?

Dur. She's mine, man, she's mine; my own talent to a T. I'll match her in dialectics, 'faith; I was seven years at the university, man, nursed.up with Barbaro, Celarunt, Darii, Ferio, Baralipton. Did you ever know, man, that 'twas metaphysics made me an ass? It was, 'faith! Had she talked a word of singing, dancing, plays, fashions, or the like, I had foundered at the first step; but as she is-Mirabel, wish me joy!

Y. Mir. You don't mean marriage, I hope. Dur. No, no, I am a man of more honour. Y. Mir. Bravely resolved, Captain! now for thy credit: warm me this frozen snowball; 'twill be a conquest above the Alps!

Dur. But will you promise to be always near me? Y. Mir. Upon all occasions, never fear.

Dur. Why, then, you shall see me in two moments make an induction from my love to her hand, from her hand to her mouth, from her mouth to her heart, and so conclude in her bed, categorematice.

Y. Mir. Now the game begins, and my fool is entered. But here comes one to spoil my sport; now shall I be teased to death, with this old-fashioned contract! I should love her too, if I might do it my own way, but she'll do nothing without witnesses, forsooth: I wonder women can be so immodest!

Enter BISARRE and Maid. Bis. (With a book.) Psha! hang books! they sour our temper, spoil our eyes, and ruin our complexions. (Throws away the book.)

Dur. Eh? the devil such a word is there in all Aristotle!

Bis. Come, wench, let's be free; call in the fiddle, there's nobody near us.

Dur. 'Would to the Lord there was not! Bis. Here, friend, a minuet. (Music.) Quicker time! ha! 'would we had a man or two! Dur. (Stealing away.) You shall have the devil sooner, my dear, dancing philosopher! Bis. Ud's my life! Here's one! (Runs to Duretete, and hales him back.)

Dur. Is all my learned preparation come to this? Bis. Come, sir, don't be so ashamed, that's my good boy; you're very welcome, we wanted such a one: Come, strike up. (Dance.) I know you dance well, sir; you're finely shaped for't. Come, come, sir; quick! quick! you miss the time else. Dur. But, madam, I come to talk with you. Bis. Ay, ay; talk as you dance, talk as you dance. Come!

Dur. But we were talking of dialectics. Bis. Hang dialectics! (Music.) Mind the time! quicker, sirrah! Come!-and how d'ye find yourself now, sir?

Dur. In a fine breathing sweat, doctor.

Bis. All the better, patient, all the better. Come, sir, sing now, sing; I know you sing well: I see you have a singing face; a heavy, dull, sonata face. Dur. Who, I sing?

Bis. O, you're modest, sir; but come, sit down closer-closer. Here, a bottle of wine! [Exit Maid, and returns with wine.] Come, sir-sing,

sir.

Dur. But, madam, I came to talk with you. Bis. O sir, you shall drink first. Come, fill me a bumper; here, sir, bless the king!

Dur. 'Would I were out of his dominions! By

this light, she'll make me drunk too!

Bis. O, pardon me, sir, you shall do me right; fill it higher. Now, sir, can you drink a health under your leg?

Dur. Rare philosophy that, 'faith!

Bis. Come, off with it to the bottom? Now, how d'ye like me, sir?

Dur. O, mighty well, madam!

Bis. You see how a woman's fancy varies! sometimes, splenetic and heavy, then, gay and frolicksome. And how d'ye like the humour?

Dur. Good madam, let me sit down to answer you, for I am heartily tired.

Bis. Fie upon it! a young man, and tired! up, for shame, and walk about. Action becomes as ;a little faster, sir. What d'ye think now of my Lady La Pale, and Lady Coquet, the duke's fair daughter? Ha! Are they not brisk lasses? Then there is black Mrs. Bellair, and brown Mrs. Bellface!

Dur. They are all strangers to me, madam. Bis. But let me tell you, sir, that brown is not always despicable. O lard, sir, if young Mrs. Bagatelle had kept herself single till this time o'day, what a beauty there had been! And then, you know, the charming Mrs. Monkeylove, the fair gem of St. Germain's!

Dur. Upon my soul, I don't!

Bis. And then, you must have heard of the English beau, Spleenamore, how unlike a gentlemanDur. Hey! not a syllable on't, as I hope to be saved, madam!

Bis. No! Why, then, play me a jig. (Music.) Come, sir.

Dur. By this light, I cannot! 'faith, madam, I have sprained my leg!

Bis. Then sit you down, sir; and now tell me, what's your business with me? What's your er

rand? Quick, quick, despatch! Odso, may be, you are some gentleman's servant, that has brought me a letter, or a haunch of venison?

Dur. 'Sdeath, madam! do I look like a carrier? Bis. O, cry you mercy! I saw you just now, I mistook you, upon my word! you are one of the travelling gentlemen: and pray, sir, how do all our impudent friends in Italy?

Dur. Madam, I came to wait on you with a more serious intention than your entertainment has answered.

Bis. Sir, your intention of waiting on me was the greatest affront imaginable, however your expressions may turn it to a compliment: your visit, sir, was intended as a prologue to a very scurvy play, of which, Mr. Mirabel and you so handsomely laid the plot. "Marry! No, no, I am a man of more honour." Where's your honour? Where's your courage, now? Ads my life, sir, I have a great mind to kick you! Go, go to your fellow-rake now, rail at my sex, and get drunk for vexation, and write a lampoon. But I must have you to know, sir, that my reputation is above the scandal of a libel, my virtue is sufficiently approved to those whose opinion is my interest; and, for the rest, let them talk what they will: for, when I please, I'll be what I please, in spite of you and all mankind; and so, my dear man of honour, if you be tired, con over this lesson, and sit there till I come to you. (Runs off.)

Dur. Tum ti dum. (Sings.) Ha, ha, ha! "Ad's my life, I have a great mind to kick you!" Oons and confusion! (Starts up.) Was ever man so abused! Ay, Mirabel set me on.

SCENE I.-Old Mirabel's House. Enter OLD and YOUNG MIRABEL, meeting. Old Mir. Bob, come hither, Bob.

Y. Mir. Your pleasure, sir?

Old Mir. Are not you a great rogue, sirrah? Y. Mir. That's a little out of my comprehension sir; for I've heard say, that I resemble my father.

Old Mir. Your father is your very humble slave. I tell thee what, child, thou art a very pretty fellow, and I love thee heartily; and a very great villain, and I hate thee mortally.

Y. Mir. Villain, sir! Then I must be a very impudent one; for I can't recollect any passage of my life that I'm ashamed of.

Old Mir. Come hither, my dear friend; dost see this picture? (Shews him a little picture.) Y. Mir. Oriana's? Psha!

Old Mir. What, sir, won't you look upon't! Bob, dear Bob, pr'ythee come hither, now. Dost want any money, child?

Y. Mir. No, sir.

Old Mir. Why then, here's some for thee: come here now. How canst thou be so hard-hearted an unnatural, unmannerly rascal, (don't mistake me, child, I a'n't angry) as to abuse this tender, lovely, good-natured, dear rogue? Why, she sighs for thee, and cries for thee, pouts for thee, and snubs for thee; the poor little heart of it is like to burst. Come, my dear boy, be good-natured, like your own father; be now; and then, see here, read this;-the effigies of the lovely Oriana, with thirty thousand pounds to her portion!-thirty thousand pounds, you dog!-thirty thousand pounds, you rogue! how dare you refuse a lady with thirty thousand pounds, you impudent rascal?

Y. Mir. Will you hear me speak, sir? Old Mir. Hear you speak, sir! If you had thirty thousand tongues, you could not out-talk thirty thousand pounds, sir.

Y. Mr. Nay, sir, if you won't hear me, I'll begone, sir: I'll take post for Italy, this moment. Old Mir. Ah, the fellow knows I won't part with him! Well, sir, what have you to say?

Y. Mir. The universal reception, sir, that marriage has had in the world, is enough to fix it for a public good, and to draw every body into the common Cause; but there are some constitutions, like some instruments, so peculiarly singular, that they make tolerable music by themselves, but never do well

in a concert.

Old. Mir. Why, this is reason, I must confess; but yet it is nonsense, too; for, though you should reason like an angel, if you argue yourself out of a good estate, you talk like a fool.

Y. Mir. But, sir, if you bribe me into bondage with the riches of Croesus, you leave me but a beggar, for want of my liberty.

Old Mir. Was ever such a perverse fool heard? Sdeath, sir! why did I give you education? was it to dispute me out of my senses? Of what colour, now, is the head of this cane? You'll say, 'tis white, and, ten to one, make me believe it too. I thought that young fellows studied to get money.

Y. Mir. No, sir, I have studied to despise it; my reading was not to make me rich, but happy,

Old Mir. There he has me again, now! But, sir, did not I marry to oblige you?

Y. Mir. To oblige me, sir! in what respect, pray? Old Mir. Why, to bring you into the world, sir; wa'n't that an obligation?

Y. Mir. And, because I would have it still an obligation, I avoid marriage.

Old Mir. How is that, sir?

Y. Mir. Because I would not curse the hour I was born.

Old Mir. Lookye, friend, you may persuade me out of my designs, but I'll command you out of yours; and, though you may convince my reason that you are in the right, yet there is an old attendant of sixty-three, called positiveness, which you, nor all the wits in Italy, shall ever be able to shake: so, sir, you're a wit, and I'm a father: you may talk, but I'll be obeyed.

Y. Mir. This it is to have the son a finer gentleman than the father; they first give us breeding, that they don't understand; then they turn us out of doors, because we are wiser than themselves. But I'm a little before hand with the old gentleman. (Aside.) Sir, you have been pleased to settle a thousand pounds sterling a year upon me; in return for which, I have a very great honour for you and your family, and shall take care that your only and beloved son shall do nothing to make him hate his father, or to hang himself. So, dear sir, I'm your very humble servant. (Runs off.)

Old Mir. Here, sirrah! rogue! Bob! villain!
Enter DUGARD.

Dug. Ah, sir! 'tis but what he deserves. Old Mr. 'Tis false, sir! he don't deserve it; what have you to say against my boy, sir?

Dug. I shall only repeat your own words. Old Mir. What have you to do with my words? I have swallowed my words already; I have eaten them up. I say, that Bob's an honest fellow, and who dares deny it?

Enter BISARRE.

Bis. That dare I, sir: I say, that your son is a wild, foppish, whimsical, impertinent coxcomb; and, were I abused, as this gentleman's sister is, I would make it an Italian quarrel, and poison the whole family.

Dug. Come, sir, 'tis no time for trifling: my sister is abused; you are made sensible of the affront, and your honour is concerned to see her redressed.

Old Mir. Look ye, Mr. Dugard, good words go farthest. I will do your sister justice, but it must be after my own rate; nobody must abuse my son but myself; for, although Robin be a sad dog, yet he's 's nobody's puppy but my own.

Bis. Ay, that's my sweet-natured, kind, old gentleman. (Wheedling him.) We will be good, then, if you'll join with us in the plot.

Old Mir. Ah, you coaxing young baggage, what plot can you have to wheedle a fellow of sixtythree?

Bis. A plot that sixty-three is only good for; to bring other people together, sir. You must act the Spaniard, because your son will least suspect you; and, if he should, your authority protects you from a quarrel, to which Oriana is unwilling to expose her brother.

Old Mir. And what part will you act in the business, madam?

Bis. Myself, sir; my friend is grown a perfect changeling these foolish hearts of ours spoil our heads presently; the fellows no sooner turn knaves, but we turn fools; but I am still myself, and he may expect the most severe usage from me, because I neither love him nor hate him. [Exit.

Old. Mir. Well said, Mrs. Paradox! but, sir, who must open the matter to him? Dug. Petit, sir; who is our engineer general; and here he comes.

Enter PETIT.

Petit. O, sir, more discoveries! are all friends about us?

Dug. Ay, ay, speak freely.

Petit. You must know, sir,-odd's my life, I'm out of breath! you must know, sir,-you must know

Old Mir. What the devil must we know, sir? Petit. That I have (pants and blows.) bribed, sir, bribed-your son's secretary of state.

Old Mir. Secretary of state! who's that, for heaven's sake?

Petit. His valet de chambre, sir? You must know, sir, that the intrigue lay folded up in his master's clothes; and, when he went to dust the embroidered suit, the secret flew out of the right pocket of his coat, in a whole swarm of your crambo songs, short-footed odes, and long-legged pindaries.

Old Mir. Impossible!

Petit. Ab, sir, he has loved her all along; there was Oriana in every line, but he hates marriage. Now, sir, this plot will stir up his jealousy, and we shall know, by the strength of that, how to proceed farther. Come, sir, let's about it with speed:

'Tis expedition gives our king the sway; For expedition to the French give way; Swift to attack, or swift-to run away [Exeunt. Enter YOUNG MIRABEL and BISARRE, passing carelessly by one another.

Bis. (Aside.) I wonder what she can see in this fellow to like him?

Y. Mir. (Aside.) I wonder what my friend can see in this girl, to admire her?

Bis. (Aside.) A wild, foppish, extravagant, rakehell!

Y.Mir. (A side.) A light, whimsical, impertinent madcap!

Bis. Whom do you mean, sir?

Y. Mir. Whom do you mean, madam?

Bis. A fellow that has nothing left to re-establish him for a human creature, but a prudent resolution to hang himself!