Con. But, dear sir, consider you are going to fight a duel this very evening, and if you should be kilt, I fancy you will find it a little difficult to run away afterwards with the lovely Emily! Lee. If I fall, there will be an end to my mis fortunes. Con. But, surely, it will not be quite genteel, to go out of the world without paying your debts. Lee. But how shall I stay in the world, Connolly, without punishing Belville for ruining my sister? expose his friend to difficulties; we should not seek for redress, if we are not equal to the task of fighting our own battles; and I choose you particularly to carry my letter, because you may be supposed ignorant of the contents, and thought to be acting only in the ordinary course of your business. Con. Say no more about it, honey; I will be back with you presently. [Going, returns.] I put the twenty guineas in your pocket, before you were up, sir; and I don't believe you would look Con. O, the devil fly away with this honour! for such a thing there, if I was not to tell you of an ounce of common sense is worth a whole ship- | it. TErit. load of it, if we must prefer a bullet or a halter Lee. This faithful, noble hearted creature!-to a fine young lady and a great fortune! but let me fly from thought; the business I have to execute will not bear the test of reflection. Lee. We'll talk no more on the subject at present. Take this letter to Mr Belville; deliver it into his own hand, be sure; and bring me an answer: make haste, for I shall not stir out till you come back. Con. By my soul, I wish you may be able to stir out then!-O, but that's true! Lee. What's the matter? Con. Why, sir, the gentleman I last lived clerk with, died lately, and left me a legacy of twenty guineas Lee. What! Is Mr Stanley dead? Con. Faith, his friends have behaved very unkindly if he is not, for they have buried him these six weeks! Lee. And what then? Con. Why, sir, I received my little legacy this morning, and if you would be so good as to keep it for me, I would be much obliged to you. Lee. Connolly, I understand you, but I am already shamefully in your debt; you have had no money from me this age Con. O, sir, that does not signify; if you are not kilt in this damned duel, you'll be able enough to pay me : if you are, I shan't want it. Lee. Why so, my poor fellow? Con. Because, though I am but your clerk, and though I think fighting the most foolish thing upon earth, I'm as much a gentleman as yourself, and have as much right to commit a murder in the way of duelling. Lee. And what then? You have no quarrel with Mr Belville? Con. I shall have a damned quarrel with him though, if you are kilt: your death shall be revenged, depend upon it; so, let that content you. Lee. My dear Connolly, I hope I shan't want such a proof of your affection. How he distres ses me! Re-enter CoNNOLLY. [Exit. Con. As this is a challenge, I should not go SCENE III-Changes to an apartment ut Enter MRS BELVILLE. Mrs Bel. How strangely this affair of Mrs Tempest hangs upon my spirits, though I have every reason, from the tenderness, the politeness, and the generosity of Mrs Belville, as well as from the woman's behaviour, to believe the whole charge the result of a disturbed imagination. Yet, suppose it should be actually true: Heigho! well, suppose it should; I would endeavour-I think I would endeavour to keep my temper a frowning face never recovered a heart, that was not to be fixed with a smiling one : but women, in general, forget this grand article of the matrimonial creed entirely; the dignity of insulted virtue obliges them to play the fool, whenever their Corydons play the libertine; and poh! they must pull down the house about the traitor's ears, though they are themselves to be crushed in pieces by the ruins. Lady Rach. Yes, I have drawn him, as he is, an honest practitioner of the law; which is, I fancy, no very common character. Mrs Bell. And it must be a vast acquisition to the theatre ? Lady Rach. Yet the managers of both houses have refused my play; have refused it peremptorily, though I offered to make them a present of it! Mrs Bel. That's very surprising, when you of fered to make them a present of it. Lady Rach. They alledge, that the audiences are tired of crying at comedies; and insist that my despairing shepherdess is absolutely too dismal for representation. Mrs Bel. What! though you have introduced a lawyer in a new light? Lady Rach. Yes, and have a boarding-school romp, that slaps her mother's face, and throws a bason of scalding water at her governess. bout the happiness of your wife, yet for ever endangering it by your passion for variety. Bel. Why, there is certainly a contradiction between my principles and my practice; but, if ever you marry, you'll be able to reconcile it perfectly. Possession, Savage! O, possession, is a miserable whetter of the appetite in love! and I own myself so sad a fellow, that, though I would not exchange Mrs Belville's mind for any woman's upon earth, there is scarcely a woman's person upon earth, which is not to me a stronger object of attraction. Capt. Sav. Then, perhaps, in a little time you'll be weary of Miss Leeson? Bel. To be sure I shall; though, to own the truth, I have not yet carried my point conclusively with the little monkey. Capt. Sav. Why, how the plague has she escaped a moment in your hands? Bel. By a mere accident. She came to the lodgings, which my man Spruce prepared for her, rather unexpectedly last night, so that I happen Mrs Bel. Why surely these are capital jokes! Lady Rach. But the managers can't find them out. However, I am determined to bring it outed to be engaged particularly in another quarter somewhere; and I have discovered such a treasure for my boarding-school romp, as exceeds the most sanguine expectation of criticism. Mrs Bel. How fortunate! Lady Rach. Going to Mrs Le Blond, my milliner's, this morning, to see some contraband silks (for you know there's a foreign minister just arrived), I heard a loud voice rehearsing Juliet from the dining-room; and, upon inquiry, found, that it was a country girl just eloped from her friends in town, to go upon the stage with an Irish manager. Mrs Bel. Ten to one the strange woman's niece, who has been here this morning. [Aside. Lady Rach. Mrs Le Blond has some doubts about the manager, it seems, though she has not seen him yet, because the apartments are very expensive, and were taken by a fine gentleman out of livery. Mrs Bel. What am I to think of this? Pray, lady Rachel, as you have conversed with this young actress, I suppose you could procure me a sight of her? Lady Rach. This moment, if you will. I am very intimate with her already; but pray keep the matter a secret from your husband, for he is so witty, you know, upon my passion for the drama, that I shall be teased to death by him. Mrs Bel. O, you may be very sure, that your secret is safe, for I have a most particular reason to keep it from Mr Belville; but he is coming this way with Captain Savage: let us, at present, avoid him. [Exeunt. Enter BELVILLE and CAPTAIN SAVAGE. -you understand me?and the damned aunt found me so much employment all the morning, that I could only send a message by Spruce, promising to call upon her the first moment I had to spare in the course of the day. Capt. Sav. And so you are previously satisfied that you shall be tired of her?" Bel. Tired of her? Why, I am, at this moment, in pursuit of fresh game, against the hour of satiety: game, that you know to be exquisite and I fancy I shall bring it down, though it is closely guarded by a deal of that pride, which passes for virtue with the generality of your mighty good people. Capt. Sav. Indeed! and may a body know this wonder? Bel. You are to be trusted with any thing, for you are the closest fellow I ever knew, and the the rack itself would hardly make you discover one of your own secrets to any body—What do you think of Miss Walsingham? Capt. Sav. Miss Walsingham! Death and the devil! [Aside. Bel. Miss Walsingham. Capt. Sav. Why surely she has not received your addresses with any degree of approbation? Bel. With every degree of approbation I could expect. Capt. Sav. She has? Bel. Ay: why this news surprises you? Bel. Ha, ha, ha! I can't help laughing to think what a happy dog Miss Walsingham's husband is likely to be! Capt. Suo. A very happy dog, truly! Bel. She's a delicious girl, isn't she, Savage? but she'll require a little more trouble; for a fine Capt. Sav. You are a very strange man, Bel-woman, like a fortified town, to speak in your faville; you are for ever tremblingly solicitous a- ther's language, demands a regular siege; and we must even allow her the honours of war, to inagnify the greatness of our own victory. Capt Sav. Well, it amazes me how you gay fellows ever have the presumption to attack a woman of principle. Miss Walsingham has no apparent levity of any kind about her. Bel. No; but she has continued in my house after I had whispered my passion in her ear, and gave me a second opportunity of addressing her improperly. What greater encouragement could I desire? Enter SPRUCE. Well, Spruce, what are your commands? my hands, there may be fools enough to think of her upon terms of honourable matrimony. [Exit. Capt. Sav. So, here's a discovery! a precious discovery! and while I have been racking my imagination, and sacrificing my interest, to promote the happiness of this woman, she has been listening to the addresses of another! to the addres ses of a married man! the husband of her friend, and the intimate friend of her intended husband! By Belville's own account, however, she has not yet proceeded to any criminal lengths -But why did she keep the affair a secret from me? or why did she continue in his house, after tachment? What's to be done? If I open my engagement with her to Belville, I am sure he will instantly desist; but, then, her honour is left in a state extremely questionable--It shall be still concealed. While it remains unknown, Belville will himself tell me every thing; and doubt, upon an occasion of this nature, is infinitely more insupportable than the downright falschood of the woman whom we love. [Exit. Spruce. My lady is just gone out with lady a repeated declaration of his unwarrantable atRachel, sir. Bel. I understand you. Spruce. I believe you do. [Aside.] [Exit. Capt. Sav. What is the English of these significant looks between Spruce and you? Bel. Only that Miss Walsingham is left alone, and that I have now an opportunity of entertaining her. You must excuse me, Savage; you must, upon my soul; but not a word of this affair to any body; because, when I shake her off ACT II. SCENE I-An Apartment in GENERAL SAVAGE's house. Enter GENERAL SAVAGE and TORRINGTON. Gen. Sav. ZOUNDS! Torrington, give me quarter, when I surrender up my sword. I own that, for these twenty years, I have been suffering all the inconveniencies of marriage, without tasting any one of its comforts, and rejoicing in an imaginary freedom, while I was really grovelling in chains. Tor. In the dirtiest chains upon earth;-yet you wou'dn't be convinced, but laughed at all your married acquaintance as slaves, when not one of them put up with half so much from the worst wife, as you were obliged to crouch under from a kept mistress. Gen. Sav. 'Tis too true. But you know she sacrificed much for me ;-you know that she was the widow of a colonel, and refused two very advantageous matches on my account. Tor. If she was the widow of a judge, and had refused a high chancellor, she was still a devil incarnate, and you were in course a madman to live with her. Gen. Sav. You don't remember her care of me when I have been sick. Tor. I recollect, however, her usage of you in health, and you may easily find a tenderer nurse, when you are bound over by the gout or the rheumatism. Gen. Sav. Well, well, I agree with you that she is a devil incarnate; but I am this day determined to part with her for ever. Tor. Not you indeed. : Gen. Sac. What, don't I know my own mind? Tor. Not you indeed, when she is in the question with every body else, your resolution is as unalterable as a determination in the house of peers; but Mrs Tempest is your fate, and she reverses your decrees with as little difficulty as a fraudulent debtor now-a-days procures his certificate under a commission of bankruptcy. Gen. Sen. Well, if, like the Roman Fabius, I conquer by delay, in the end there will be uo great reason to find fault with my generalship. The proposal of parting now comes from herself. Tor. O, you daren't make it for the life of you! Gen. Sav. You must know, that this morning we had a smart cannonading on Belville's account; and she threatens, as I told you before, to quit my house, if I don't challenge him for taking away her niece. Tor. That fellow is the very devil among the women! and yet there isn't a man in England fonder of his wife. Gen. Sav. Poh, if the young minx hadn't surrendered to him, she would have capitulated to somebody else; and I shall at this time be doubly obliged to him, if he is any ways instrumental in getting the aunt off my hands. Tor. Why at this time? Gen. Sav. Because, to shew you how fixed my resolution is to be a keeper no longer, I mean to marry immediately. Tor. And can't you avoid being pressed to death, like a felon, who refuses to plead, with- | Where are the papers which you want me to out incurring a sentence of perpetual imprison- consider? ment? Gen. Sav. I fancy you would yourself have no objection to a perpetual imprisonment in the arms of Miss Walsingham? Tor. But have you any reason to think, that, upon examination in a case of love, she would give a favourable reply to your interrogatories? Gen. Sav. The greatest-do you think I'd hazard suc', an engagement, without being perfectly sure of my ground? Notwithstanding my present connection won't suffer me to see a modest woman at my own house-she always treats me with particular attention, whenever I visit at Belville's, or meet her any where else-If fifty young fellows are present, she directs all her assiduitics to the old soldier, and my son has a thousand times told me, that she professes the highest opinion of my understanding. Tor. And truly you give a notable proof of your understanding, in thinking of a woman almost young enough to be your grand daughter. Gen. Sav. Nothing like an experienced chief to command in any garrison. Tor. Recollect the state of your present citadel. Gen. Sav. Well, if I am blown up by my own mine, I shall be the only sufferer-There's another thing I want to talk of; I am going to marry my son to Miss Moreland. Tor. Miss Moreland !— Tor. O, ay, I remember, that Moreland had got a good estate to assume the name of Belville. Gen. Sav. I haven't yet mentioned the matter to my son; but I settled the affair with the girl's mother yesterday, and she only waits to communicate it to Belville, who is her oracle, you know. Tor. And are you sure the captain will like her? Gen. Sav. I am not so unreasonable as to insist upon his liking her; I shall only insist upon his marrying her. Tar. What, whether he likes her or not? Gen. Sav. When I issue my orders, I expect them to be obeyed; and don't look for an examination into their propriety. Tor. What a delightful thing it must be to live under a military government, where a man is not to be troubled with the exercise of his understanding! Gen. Sav. Miss Moreland has thirty thousand pounds-That's a large sum of ammunition money. Tor. Ay, but a marriage merely on the scorc of fortune, is only gilding the death-warrant sent down for the execution of a prisoner. However, as I know your obstinate attachment to what you once resolve, I sha'n't pretend to argue with you. Gen. Sav. They are in my library-File off with me to the next room, and they shall be laid before you-But first I'll order the chariot; for the moment I have your opinion, I purpose to sit down regularly before Miss Walsingham— Who waits there?" Enter a Servant. Gen. Sav. Is Mrs Tempest at home? Ser. Yes, sir, just come in, and just going out again. Gen. Sav. Very well; order the chariot to be got ready. Ser. Sir, one of the pannels was broke last night at the opera-house. Gen. Sav. Sir, I didn't call you to have the pleasure of your conversation, but to have obedience paid to my orders. Tor. Go, order the chariot, you blockhead! Gen. Sav. Yes, you rascal! if both pannels were broke, and the back shattered to pieces. Ser. The coachman thinks that one of the wheels is damaged, sir. Gen. Sav. Don't attempt to reason, you dog, but execute your orders. Bring the chariot without the wheels, if you can't bring it with them. Tor. Ay, bring it, if you reduce it to a sledge, and let your master look like a malefactor for high treason, on his journey to Tyburn, Enter MRS TEMPEST, Mrs Tem. General Savage, is the house to be for ever a scene of noise with your domineering? The chariot shan't be brought-it won't be fit for use 'till it is repaired-and John shall drive it this very minute to the coach maker's. Gen. Sav. Nay, my dear, if it isu't fit for use, that's another thing. Tor. Here's the experienced chief, that's fit to command in any garrison! [Aside. Gen. Sav. Go, order me the coach then. [To the Servant. Mrs Temp. You can't have the coach. Gen. Sar. And why so, my love? Mrs Tem. Because I want it for myself.Robert, get a hack for your master-though, indeed, I don't see what business he has out of the house. [Exeunt MRS TEMPEST and Servant. Tor. When you issue orders, you expect them to be obeyed, and don't look for an examination into their propriety. Gen. Sav. The fury-this has stecled me against her for ever, and nothing on earth can now prevent me from drumming her out immediately. Mrs Tem. [Behind.] An unreasonable old fool-But I'll make him know who governs this house! Gen. Sav. Zounds! here she comes again! she has been lying in ambuscade, I suppose, and has overheard us. Tor. What if she has? you are steeled against her for ever. Gen. Sav. No, she's not coming-she's going down stairs-and now, dear Torrington, you must be as silent as a centinel on an out-post about this affair. If that virago was to hear a syllable of it, she might perhaps attack Miss Walsingham in her very camp, and defeat my whole plan of operations. Tor. I thought you were determined to drum her out immediately! [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Changes to BELVILLE'S. Enter MISS WALSINGHAM, followed by BEL VILLE. Miss Wal. I beg, sir, that you will insult me no longer with your solicitations of this natureGive me proofs of your sincerity indeed! What proofs of your sincerity can your situation admit of, if I could be even weak enough to think of you with partiality at all? Bel. If our affections, madam, were under the government of our reason, circumstanced as I am, this unhappy bosom wouldn't be torn by passion for Miss Walsingham-Had I been blessed with your acquaintance before I saw Mrs Belville, my hand, as well as my heart, would have been humbly offered to your acceptance-fate, however, has ordered it otherwise, and it is cruel to reproach me with that situation as a crime, which ought to be pitied as my greatest misfortune. Miss Wal. He's actually forcing tears into his eyes-However, I'll mortify him severely. [Aside. your own merit? how can you be so cruelly doubtful of my solemn asseverations?-Here I again kneel, and swear eternal love! Miss Wal. I don't know what to say-but there is one proof-[Affecting to weep.] Bel. Name it, my angel, this moment, and make me the happiest of mankind! Miss Wal. Swear to be mine for ever. Bel. I have sworn it a thousand times, my charmer! and I will swear it to the last moment of my life. Miss Wal. Why then-but don't look at me, I beseech you-I don't know how to speak itBel. The delicious emotion!--do not check the generous tide of tenderness, that fills me with such ecstacy. Miss Wal. You'll despise me for this weak ness. Bel. This weakness-this generosity, which will demand my everlasting gratitude. Miss Wal. I am a fool-but there is a kind of fatality in this affair—and I do consent to go off with you. Bel. Eternal blessings on your condescension! Miss Wal. You are irresistible, and I am ready to fly with you to any part of the world. Bel. Fly to any part of the world indeed-you shall fly by yourself then! [Aside.] You are the most lovely, the most tender creature in the world, and thus again let me thank you: O, Miss Walsingham! I cannot express how happy you've made me !-But where's the necessity of our leaving England? Miss Wal. I thought he wou'dn't like to go abroad. [Aside.] That I may possess the pleasure of your company unrivalled. Bel. I must cure her of this taste for travelling[Aside. Miss Wal. You don't answer me, Mr Bel ville? Bel. Why I was turning the consequence of your proposal in my thoughts, as going off-going off-you know Miss Wal. Why, going off, you know, is going off-And what objection can you have to going off? Bel. Prostrate at your feet, my dearest Miss Bel. Why, going off will subject you at a cerWalsingham [Kneeling.], behold a heart eternal-tainty to the slander of the world; whereas, by ly devoted to your service-You have too much staying at home, we may not only have numbergood sense, madam, to be the slave of custom, less opportunities of meeting, but, at the same and too much humanity not to pity the wretch-time, prevent suspicion itself from ever breathing edness you have caused-Only, therefore, say on your reputation. that you commiserate my sufferings-I'll ask no more-and surely that may be said, without any injury to your purity, to snatch even an enemy from distraction-where's my handkerchief? [Aside. Miss Wal. Now, to answer in his own way, and to make him ridiculous to himself. [Aside.] If I thought, if I could think [Affecting to weep.] that these protestations were real! Bel. How can you, madam, be so unjust to Miss Wal. I didn't dream of your starting any difficulties, sir-Just now, I was dearer to you than all the world. Bel. And so you are, by Heaven! Miss Wal. Why won't you sacrifice the world then at once to obtain me? Bel. Surely, my dearest life, you must know the necessity, which every man of honour is under, of keeping up his character? Miss Wal. So, here's this fellow swearing to |