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trouble yourself about your own affairs; and let me tell you, sir, that I

Oak. Nay, do not put thyself into a passion with the major, my dear! It is not his fault; and I shall come back to thee very soon.

Mrs Oak. Come back! why need you go out? I know well enough when you mean to deceive me: for, then, there is always a pretence of dining with sir John, or my lord, or somebody; but when you tell me that you are going to a tavern, it's such a bare-faced affront

Oak. This is so strange, now! Why, my dear, I shall only just

Mrs Oak. Only just go after the lady in the letter, I suppose?

Oak. Well, well; I won't go then. Will that convince you? I'll stay with you, my dear! will that satisfy you?

Maj. For shame! hold out, if you are a man. [Apart. Oak. She has been so much vext this mornning already, I must humour her a little now.

Maj. Fy, fy! go out, or you're undone.

[Apart.

Oak. You see it's impossible [To Mrs OAKLY.] I'll dine at home

[Apart. Apart.

with thee,

my love.

Mrs Oak. Ay, ay; pray do, sir.

Dine at a [Going. on me an

Oak. Oh, my dear!

[Exeunt MR and MRS OAKLY. Maj. Ha, ha, ha! there's a picture of resolution! there goes a philosopher for you! ha! Charles!

Cha. Oh, uncle! I have no spirits to laugh,

now.

Maj. So! I have a fine time on't between you and my brother. Will you meet me to dinner at the St Alban's by four? We'll drink her health, and think of this affair.

Cha. Don't depend upon me. I shall be running all over the town in pursuit of my Harriot. I have been considering what you have said; but, at all events, I'll go directly to lady Freclove's. If I find her not there, which way I shall direct myself, Heaven knows.

Maj. Hark ye, Charles! If you meet with her, you may be at a loss. Bring her to my house. I have a snug room, and

Cha. Phoo! prithee, uncle, don't trifle with

me, now.

Maj. Well, seriously, then, my house is at your service.

Cha. I thank you : but I must be gone. Maj. Ay, ay; bring her to my house, and we'll settle the whole affair for you. You shall clap her into a a post-chaise, take the chaplain of our regiment along with you; wheel her down to Scotland; and, when you come back, send to settle her fortune with her father: that's the modern art of making love, Charles!

[Exeunt,

tavern, indeed! Oak. [Returning.] You may depend

other time, major.

Maj. Steel and adamant! Ah!
Mrs Oak. [Returning.] Mr Oakly!

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Sir Har. You seemed mad about her a little while ago. She's a fine mare, and a thing of shape and blood.

Tom. Sir Roger Turf's horses are all to be Rus. Damn her blood!-Harriot! my dear sold-I'll see if there's ever a tight thing there-provoking Harriot! Where can she be? Have but I suppose, sir, you would have one somewhat you got any intelligence of her? stronger than Snip?-I don't think he's quite enough of a horse for your honour.

Sir Har. Not enough of a horse! Snip's a powerful gelding; master of two stone more than my weight. If Snip stands sound, I would not take a hundred guineas for him. Poor Snip! go into the stable, Tom; see they give him a warm mash, and look at his heels and his eyes. But where's Mr Russet all this while?

Tom. I left the 'squire at breakfast on a cold pigeon-pye, and enquiring after madam Harriot in the kitchen. I'll let him know your honour would be glad to see him here.

Sir Har. Ay, do: but hark'e, Tom, be sure you take care of Snip.

Tom. I'll warrant your honour.

Sir Har. No, faith, not I: we seem to be quite thrown out here-but, however, I have ordered Tom to try if he can hear any thing of her among the ostlers.

Rus. Why don't you inquire after her yourself? why don't you run up and down the whole town after her?-t'other young rascal knows where she is, I warrant you. What a plague it is to have a daughter! When one loves her to distraction, and has toiled and laboured to make her happy, the ungrateful slut will sooner go to hell her own way-but she shall have him—I will make her happy, if I break her heart for it. -A provoking gipsy!-to run away, and torment her poor father, that dotes on her! I'll never see her face again.---Sir Harry, how cau we get any intelligence of her? Why don't you speak? why don't you tell me?---Zounds! you seem as indifferent as if you did not care a farthing about her.

Sir Har. Indifferent! you may well call me indifferent !---this damned chase after her will cost me a thousand------if it had not been for her, I would not have been off the course this week, to have saved the lives of my whole family ---I'll hold vou six to two that----

Sir Har. I'll be down in the stables myself by and by. [Exit Tom.] Let me see- -out of the famous Tantwivy by White Stockings; White Stockings his dam, full sister to the Proserpine Filly, and his sire-pox on't, how unlucky it is, that this damned accident should happen in the Newmarket week! ten to one I lose y match with lord Choakjade, by not riding myself, and I shall have no opportunity to hedge my betts neither-what a damned piece of work have I made on't! I have knocked up poor Rus. Zounds! hold your tongue, or talk more Snip, shall lose my match, and, as to Harriot, to the purpose----I swear, she is too good for the odds are, that I lose my match there, too-you---you don't deserve such a wife--a fine, dear, a skittish young tit! If I once get her tight in hand, I'll make her wince for it. Her estate joined to my own, I would have the finest stud, and the noblest kennel in the whole country.But here comes her father, puffing and blowing, like a broken-winded horse up hill.

Enter RUSSET.

Rus. Well, sir Harry, have you heard any thing of her?

Sir Har. Yes, I have been asking Tom about her, and he says, you may have her for five hundred guineas.

Rus. Five hundred guineas! how d'ye mean? where is she? which way did she take?

Sir Har. Why, first she went to Epsom, then to Lincoln, then to Nottingham, and now she is at York.

Rus. Impossible! she could not go over half the ground in the time. What the devil are you talking of?

sweet, lovely, charming girl!---She'll break my heart.------How shall I find her out?------Do, prithee, sir Harry, my dear honest friend, consider how we may discover where she is fled to.

Sir Har. Suppose you put an advertisement into the news-papers, describing her marks, her age, her height, and where she strayed from. I recovered a bay mare once by that method.

Rus. Advertise her! What! describe my daughter and expose her in the public papers, with a reward for bringing her home, like horses stolen or strayed !------recovered a bay mare !--the devil's in the fellow !------he thinks of nothing but racers, and bay mares, and stallions.----'Sdeath I wish your-----

Sir Har. I wish Harriot was fairly pounded; it would save us both a deal of trouble.

Rus. Which way shall I turn myself?------I am half distracted.If I go to that young dog's house, he has certainly conveyed her somewhere out of my reach--if she does not send to me to day, I'll give her up for ever-per

Sir Har. Of the mare you was just now say-haps, though, she may have met with some acing you wanted to buy.

Rus. The devil take the mare!-who would think of her, when I am mad about an affair of so much more consequence?

VOL. II.

cident, and has nobody to assist her.----No, she is certainly with that young rascal.---I wish she was dead, and I was dead-----I'll blow young Oakly's brains out.

5 G

Enter Toм.

Sir Har. Well, Tom, how is poor Snip? Tom. A little better, sir, after his warm mash: but Lady, the pointing bitch that followed you all the way, is deadly foot-sore.

Rus. Damn Snip and Lady! have you heard any thing of Harriot?

Tom. Why I came on purpose to let my master and your honour know, that John Ostler says as how, just such a lady as I told him madam Harriot was, came here in a four-wheel chaise, and was fetched away soon after by a fine lady

in a chariot.

Rus. Did she come alone?

Tom. Quite alone, only a servant-maid, please your honour.

to?

Rus. And what part of the town did they go

Tom. John Ostler says as how, they bid the coachman drive to Grosvenor-square.

Sir Har. Soho! puss- -Yoics!

Rus. She is certainly gone to that young rogue-he has got his aunt to fetch her from hence--or else she is with her own aunt, lady Freelove-they both live in that part of the town. I'll go to his house; and in the mean while, sir Harry, you shall step to lady Freelove's. We'll find her, I warrant you. I'll teach my young mistress to be gadding. She shall marry you to-night. Come along, sir Harry, come along; we won't lose a minute. along.

Come

Sir Har. Soho! hark forward! wind 'em and cross 'em! hark forward! Yoics! Yoics!

vet.-

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Changes to OAKLY'S.

Enter MRS OAKLY.

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sit down. [They sit.] I longed to see you. It
seemed an age till I had an opportunity of talk-
ing over the silly affair that happened this morn-
ing.
[Mildly.

Oak. Why, really, my dear

Mrs Oak. Nay, don't look so grave now. Come-it's all over. Charles and you have cleared up matters. I am satisfied.

Oak. Indeed! I rejoice to hear it! You make me happy beyond my expectation. This disposition will insure our felicity. Do but lay aside your cruel unjust suspicion, and we should never have the least difference.

Mrs Oak. Indeed, I begin to think so. I'll endeavour to get the better of it. And really sometimes it is very ridiculous. My uneasiness this morning, for instance! ha, ha, ha! To be so much alarmed about that idle letter, which turned out quite another thing at last- -was not I very angry with you? ha, ha, ha! [Affecting a laugh.

Oak. Don't mention it. Let us both forget it. Your present cheerfulness makes amends for every thing,

Mrs Oak. I am apt to be too violent: I love you too well to be quite easy about you. [Fondly.] Well-no matter-what is become of Charles?

Oak. Poor fellow! he is on the wing, rambling all over the town in pursuit of this young lady. Mrs Oak. Where is he gone, pray!

Oak. First of all, I believe, to some of her relations.

Mrs Oak. Relations! Who are they? Where do they live?

Oak. There is an aunt of her's lives just in the neighbourhood; lady Freelove.

Mrs Oak. Lady Freelove! Oho! gone to lady Freclove's, is he?-and do you think he will hear any thing of her?

Oak. I don't know; but I hope so with all my

soul.

Mrs Oak. Hope! with all your soul! do you [Alarmed.

hope so?

so?

Oak. Hope so! ye-yes-why, don't you hope [Surprised.

Oak. I should think so; and really I don't know where he can be settled so well. She is a most deserving young woman, I assure you.

Mrs Oak. After all, that letter was certainly intended for my husband. I see plain enough they are all in a plot against me. My husband intriguing, the major working him up to affront me, Charles owning his letters, and so playing Mrs Oak. Well-yes-[Recovering.O ay, into each other's hands.They think me a to be sure. I hope it of all things. You know, fool, I find—--but I'll be too much for them my dear, it must give me great satisfaction, as -I have desired to speak with Mr Oak-well as yourself, to see Charles well settled. ly, and expect him here immediately. His temper is naturally open; and if he thinks my anger abated, and my suspicions laid asleep, he will certainly betray himself by his behaviour. I'll assume an air of good-humour, pretend to believe the fine story they have trumped up, throw him off his guard, and so draw the secret out of him. Here he comes.---How hard it is to dissemble one's anger! O, I could rate him soundly! but I'll keep down my indignation at present, though it chokes me.

Enter OAKLY.

O my dear! I am very glad to see you. Pray

Mrs Oak. You are well acquainted with her, then?

Oak. To be sure, my dear! after seeing her so often last summer at the major's house in the country, and at her father's.

Mrs Oak. So often!

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Mrs Oak. I say-a-a-[Stammering.] Is she | woman!-No place but my own house to serve your purposes?

handsome?

Oak. Prodigiously handsome indeed. Mrs Oak. Prodigiously handsome! and is she reckoned a sensible girl?

Oak. Lord, this is the strangest misapprehension! I am quite astonished.

Mrs Oak. Astonished! yes-confused, deOak. A very sensible, modest, agreeable young tected, betrayed by your vain confidence of imlady, as ever I knew. You would be extremely posing on me. Why, sure you imagine me an fond of her, I am sure. You can't imagine how idiot, a driveller. Charles, indeed! yes, Charles happy I was in her company. Poor Charles! she is a fine excuse for you. The letter this mornsoon made a conquest of him; and no wondering, the letter, Mr Ŏakly!

she has so many elegant accomplishments! such Oak. The letter! why, sure that

an infinite fund of cheerfulness and good hu- Mrs Oak. Is sufficiently explained. You have mour! Why, she's the darling of the whole coun-made it very clear to me. Now I am convinced.

try.

Mrs Oak. Lord! you seem quite in raptures about her.

Oak. Raptures! not at all. I was only telling you the young lady's character. I thought you would be glad to find that Charles had made so sensible a choice, and was so likely to be happy. Mrs Oak. O, Charles! True, as you say, Charles will be mighty happy.

Oak. Don't you think so?

Mrs Oak. I am convinced of it. Poor Charles! I am much concerned for him. He must be very uneasy about her. I was thinking whether we could be of any service to him in this affair.

Oak. Was you, my love? that is very good of you. Let me see? How can we manage it? Gad! I have hit it. The luckiest thought! and it will be of great service to Charles.

Mrs Oak. Well, what is it? [Eagerly.]-You | know I would do any thing to serve Charles, and oblige you. [Mildly. Oak. That is so kind! Lord, my dear, if you would but always consider things in this proper light, and continue this amiable temper, we should be the happiest people

Mrs Oak. I believe so: but what's your proposal?

Oak. I am sure you'll like it. Charles, you know, may perhaps be so lucky as to meet with this lady

Mrs Oak. True.

I have no doubt of your perfidy. But I thank you for some hints you have given me, and you may be sure I shall make use of them: nor will I rest, till I have full conviction, and overwhelm you with the strongest proof of your baseness towards me.

Oak. Nay, but

Mrs Oak. Go, go! I have no doubt of your
falsehood: away!
[Exit MRS OAKLY.
Oak. Was there ever any thing like this? Such
unaccountable behaviour! angry I don't know
why! jealous of I know not what! pretending to be
satisfied merely to draw me in, and then creating
imaginary proofs out of an innocent conversa-
tion!ints!-hints I have given her!-
What can she mean?-

TOILET crossing the stage.
Toilet! where are you going?

Toilet. To order the porter to let in no com-
pany to my lady to-day. She won't see a single
soul, sir.
[Erit TOILET.

Oak. What an unhappy woman! Now will she sit all day feeding on her suspicions, till she has convinced herself of the truth of them.

JOHN crossing the stage.

Well, sir, what's your business?
John. Going to order the chariot, sir. My la-
dy's going out immediately. [Exit JOHN.
Oak. Going out! what is all this?-But every

Oak. Now, I was thinking, that he might, with way she makes me miserable. Wild and ungo

your leave, my dear

Mrs Oak. Well!

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vernable as the sea or the wind! made up of storms and tempests! I can't bear it: and, one way or other, I will put an end to it.

[Exit.

SCENE HI-LADY FREELOVE's house. Enter LADY FREELOVE with a card-Servant following.

Lady Free. [Reading as she enters. And 'will take the liberty of waiting on her ladyship en cavalier, as he comes from the menége.Does any body wait that brought this card? Ser. Lord Trinket's servant is in the hall, madam.

Lady Free. My compliments, and I shall be glad to see his lordship.-Where is Miss Russet? Ser. In her own chamber, madam.

Lady Free. What is she doing? Ser. Writing, I believe, madam. Lady Free. Oh! ridiculous!-scribbling to that Oakly, I suppose. [Apart.]-Let her know I should be glad of her company here.

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But

Lady Free. Yes, lord Trinket: you know it as well as I do; and yet, you ill-natured thing, you will not vouchsafe him a single smile. you must give the poor soul a little encourage ment, prithee do.

Har. Indeed, I cannot, madam, for of all mankind Lord Trinket is my aversion.

Lady Free. Why so, child? He is counted a well-bred, sensible young fellow, and the women think him handsome.

[Exit SERVANT. It is a mighty troublesome thing to manage a simple girl, that knows nothing of the world. Harriot, like all other girls, is foolishly fond of this young fellow of her own chusing, her first love, that is to say, the first man that is particularly civil, and the first air of consequence which a young lady gives herself. Poor silly soul!-all But Oakly must not have her positively. A match with lord Trinket will add to the dignity of the family. I must bring her into it. I will throw her into his way as often as possible, and leave him to make his party good as fast as he can. But here she comes.

Enter HARRIOT.

Well! Harriot, still in the pouts? nay, prithee, my dear little run-away girl, be more cheerful! your everlasting melancholy puts me into the va

pours.

Har. Dear madam, excuse nie. How can I be cheerful in my present situation? I know my father's temper so well, that I am sure this step of mine must almost distract him. I sometimes wish that I had remained in the country, let what would have been the consequence.

Lady Free. Why, it is a naughty child, that's certain; but it need not be so uneasy about papa, as you know that I wrote by last night's post, to acquaint him, that his little lost sheep was safe, and that you are ready to obey his commands in every particular, except marrying that oaf, sir Harry Beagle.--Lord! Lord! what a difference there is between a country and town education! Why, a London lass would have jumped out of a window into a gallant's arms, and without thinking of her father, unless it were to have drawn a few bills on him, been an hundred miles off in nine or ten hours, or perhaps out of the kingdom in twenty-four,

Har. I fear I have already been too precipitate. I tremble for the consequences.

Har. Yes, he is just polite enough to be able to be very unmannerly with a great deal of good breeding; is just handsome enough to make him most excessively vain of his person; and has just reflection enough to finish him for a coxcomb; qualifications, which are all very common among those whom your ladyship calls men of quality.

Lady Frec. A satirist, too! Indeed, my dear, this affectation sits very awkwardly upon you.There will be a superiority in the behaviour of persons of fashion.

Har. A superiority, indeed! For his lordship alway behaves with so much insolent familiarity, that I should almost imagine he was soliciting me for other favours, rather than to pass my whole life with him.

Lady Free. Innocent freedoms, child, which every fine woman expects to be taken with her, as an acknowledgement of her beauty.

Har. They are freedoms, which, I think, no innocent woman can allow.

Lady Free. Romantic to the last degree!Why, you are in the country still, Harriot! Enter Servant.

Ser. My lord Trinket, madam.

[Exit Servant. Lady Free. I swear now I have a good mind to tell him all you have said.

Enter LORD TRINKET in boots, &c. as from the Riding-house.

Your lordship's most obedient humble servant.

Lady Free. I swear, child, you are a downright Lord Trink. Your ladyship does me too much prude. Your way of talking gives me the spleen; honour. Here I am en bottine as you see—just so full of affection, and duty, and virtue, 'tis just come from the menege. Miss Russet, I am your like a funeral sermon. And yet, pretty soul it slave. I declare it makes me quite happy to find can love. Well, I wonder at your taste; a sneak-you together. 'Pon honour, madam, [TO HARing simple gentleman! without a title ! and when, to my knowledge, you might have a man of quality to-morrow.

Har. Perhaps so. Your ladyship must excuse me, but many a man of quality would make me iniserable.

Lady Free. Indeed, my dear, these antedilu vian notions will never do now-a-days; and, at the same time, too, those little wicked eyes of yours speak a very different language. Indeed you

RIOT.] I begin to conceive great hopes of you : and, as for you, Lady Freelove, I cannot sufficiently commend your assiduity with your fair pupil. She was before possessed of every grace that nature could bestow on her, and nobody is so well qualified as your ladyship to give her the Bon Ton.

Har. Compliment and contempt all in a breath! My lord, I am obliged to you. But wa ving my acknowledgements, give me leave to ask

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