Lady R. O, la! I am quite fatigued. I can hardly move. Why don't you help me, you barbarous man?

Sir C. There, take my arm.— Lady R. But I wont be laughed at. [Looking tenderly at him.] I don't love you.

Sir C. Don't you?

Lady R. No. Dear me! this glove! why don't you help me off with my glove? Pshaw! you awkward thing, let it alone; you an't fit to be about my person. I might as well not be married, for any use you are of. Reach me a chair. You have no compassion for me. I am so glad to sit down. Why do you drag me to routs? You know I hate them.

Sir C. Oh! there is no existing, no breathing, unless one does as other people of fashion do.

Lady R. But I am out of humour: I lost all my money.

Sir C. How much?

Lady R. Three hundred.

Sir C. Never fret for that. I don't value three hundred pounds to contribute to your happiness.

Lady R. Don't you?-not value three hundred pounds to please me?

Sir C. You know, I don't.

Lady R. Ah! you fond fool!-But I hate gaming: it almost metamorphoses a woman into a fury. Do you know that I was frighted at myself several times to-night? I had a huge oath at the very tip of my tongue.

Sir C. Had ye?

Lady R. I caught myself at it; but I bit my lips, and so I did not disgrace myself. And then I was crammed up in a corner of the room, with such a strange party at a whist-table, looking at black and red spots: did you mind them?

Sir C. You know I was busy elsewhere. Lady R. There was that strange, unaccountable woman, Mrs. Nightshade: she behaved so fretfully to her husband, a poor, inoffensive, good-natured, good sort of a good-for-nothing kind of man: but she so teazed him-" How could you play that card? Ah, you've a head, and so has a pin-You're a numskull, you know you are-Ma'am, he has the poorest head in the world, he does not know what he is about; you know you don't-Oh, fy!-I'm ashamed of you!"

Sir C. She has served to divert you, I see. Lady R. And to crown all, there was my lady Clackit, who runs on with an eternal 'larum about nothing, out of all season, time, and place-In the very midst of the game she begins, "Lard, Ma'am, I was apprehensive I should not be able to wait on your la'ship; my poor little dog, Pompey-the sweetest thing in the world,-a spade led! there's the knave -I was fetching a walk, Me'm, the other morning in the Park; a fine frosty morning it was; I love frosty weather of all things. Let me look at the last trick-and so, M'em, little Pompey-Oh! if your la'ship was to see the dear creature pinched with the frost, and mincing his steps along the Mall, with his pretty innocent face-I vow I don't know what to play-And so, Me'm, while I was talking to Captain Flimsey-Your la'ship knows Captain Flimsey-Nothing but rubbish in my handI can't help it-And so, Me'm, five odious frights of dogs beset my poor little Pompeythe dear creature has the heart of a lion, but who can resist five at once? And so Pompey barked for assistance. The hurt he received

was upon his chest: the doctor would not advise him to venture out till the wound is healed, for fear of an inflammation-Pray, what's trumps?"

Sir C. My dear, you'd make a most excellent actress.

Lady R. Why don't you hand me up stairs? Oh! I am so tired; let us go to rest.

Sir C. [Assisting her.] You complain, and yet raking is the delight of your little heart. Lady R. [Leaning on him as he walks away.] It is you that make a rake of me. Oh, Sir Charles, how shockingly you played that last rubber, when I stood looking over you!

Sir C. My love, I played the truth of the game.

Lady R. No, indeed, my dear, you played it wrong. Ah! Sir Charles, you have a head. Sir C. Po! nonsense! you don't understand it.

Lady R. I beg your pardon: I am allowed to play better than you.

Sir C. All conceit, my dear: I was perfectly right.

Lady R. No such thing, Sir Charles. How can you dispute it? The diamond was the play.

Sir C. Po! ridiculous! the club was the card against the world.

Lady R. Oh, no, no, no; I say it was the diamond.

Sir C. Zounds! Madam, I say it was the club.

Lady R. What do you fly into such a passion for?

Sir C. Death and fury! do you think I don't know what I am about? I tell you once more, the club was the judgment of it. Lady R. May be so. Have it your own way, Sir. [Walks about and sings. Sir C. Vexation! you're the strangest woman that ever lived; there's no conversing with you. Lookye here, my Lady Rackett; it is the clearest case in the world; I'll make it plain to you in a moment,

Lady R. Very well, Sir. To be sure you must be right. [With a sneering laugh. Sir C. Listen to me, Lady Rackett: 1 had four cards. Trumps were out. The lead was mine. They were six-no, no, no, they were seven, and we nine; then, you know, the beauty of the play was to

Lady R. Well, now it's amazing to me, that you can't perceive: give me leave, Sir Charles. Your left hand adversary had led his last trump, and he had before finessed the club, and roughed the diamond: now if you had led your diamond

Sir C. Zoons! Madam, but we played for the odd trick.

Lady R. And sure the play for the odd trick

Sir C. Death and fury! can't you hear me? Lady R. And must not I be heard, Sir? Sir C. Zoons! hear me, I say. Will you hear me?

Lady R. I never heard the like in my life.

[Hums a tune, and walks about fretfully. Sir C. Why then you are enough to provoke the patience of a Stoic.-[Looks at her; he walks about and laughs.] Very well, Madam; you know no more of the game than your father's leaden Hercules on the top of the house. You know no more of whist than he does of gardening.

Lady R. Go on your own way, Sir.

[Takes out a glass, and settles her hair,

Sir C. Why then, by all that's odious, you are the most perverse, obstinate, ignorantLady R. Polite language, Sir!

Sir C. You are, Madam, the most perverse, the most obstinate-you are a vile woman! Lady R. I am obliged to you, Sir.

Sir C. You are a vile woman, I tell you so, and I will never sleep another night under one roof with you.

Lady R. As you please.

Sir C. Madam, it shall be as I please. I'll order my chariot this moment, [Going.] I know how the cards should be played as well as any man in England, that let me tell you. [Going.] -And when your family were standing behind counters, measuring out tape, and bartering for Whitechapel needles, my ancestors, my ancestors, Madam, were squandering away whole estates at cards; whole estates, my Lady Rackett. [She hums a tune, and he looks at her.] Why then, by all that's dear to me, I'll never exchange another word with you, good, bad, or indifferent. [Goes and turns back.] Will you command your temper, and listen to me? Lady R. Go on, Sir.

Sir C. Can't you be cool as I am?-Lookye, my Lady Rackett: thus it stood. The trumps being all out, it was then my business

Lady R. To play the diamond, to be sure. Sir C. Damnation! I have done with you for ever; for ever, Madam, and so you may tell your father. [Going. Lady R. What a passion the gentleman is

in!

Sir C. Will you let me speak?
Lady R. Who hinders you, Sir?

Sir C. Once more, then, out of pure good nature

Lady R. Oh! Sir, I am convinced of your good nature.

Sir C. That, and that only, prevails with me to tell you, the club was the play.

Lady R. I am prodigiously obliged to you for the information. I am perfectly satisfied, Sir.

Sir C. It is the clearest point in the world. Only mind now. We were nine, andLady R. And for that reason, the diamond was the play. Your adversary's club was the best in the house.

Sir C. Why then, such another fiend never existed. There is no reasoning with you. It is in vain to say a word. Good sense is thrown away upon you. I now see the malice of your heart. You are a base woman, and I part from you for ever. You may live here with your father, and admire his fantastical evergreens, till you become as fantastical yourself. I'll set out for London this moment. Your servant, Madam. [Turns and looks at her.] The club was not the best in the house. Lady R. How calm you are!-Well, I'll go to bed. Will you come? You had better. Not come when I ask you ?-Oh! Sir Charles. [Going.

Sir C. That ease is so provoking. I desire you will stay and hear me. Don't think to carry it in this manner. Madam, I must and will be heard.

Lady R. Oh! lud; with that terrible countenance! you frighten me away. [Runs in and shuts the door. Sir C. [Following her.] You shall not fly me thus. Confusion! open the door-will you open it? 'this contempt is beyond enduring. [Walks away.] I intended to have made it clear to her, but now let her continue in her

absurdity. She is not worth my notice. My resolution is taken. She has touched my pride, and I now renounce her for ever; yes, for ever; not to return, though she were to request, beseech, and implore, on her very knees. [Exit.

Lady R. [Peeping in.] Is he gone? [Comes forward.] Bless me! what have I done?-I have carried this too far, believe. I had better call him back. For the sake of peace I'll give up the point. What does it signify, which was the best of the play?-It is not worth quarrelling about.-How!-here he comes again.-I'll give up nothing to him. He shall never get the better of me: I am ruined for life if he does. I will conquer him, and I am resolved he shall see it.

[Runs in and shuts the door. Sir C. [Looking in.] No; she wont open it. Headstrong and positive!-If she could but command her temper, the thing would be as clear as day-light. She has sense enough, if she would but make use of it. It were pity she should be lost. [Advances towards the door.] All owing to that perverse spirit of contradiction.-I may reclaim her still-[Peeping through the key-hole.] Not so much as a glimpse of her. [Taps at the door.] Lady Rackett-Lady Rackett

Lady R. [Within.] What do you want? Sir C. [Laughing affectedly.] Come, you have been very pleasant. Open the door: I cannot help laughing at all this.-Come, no more foolery: have done now, and open the door.

Lady R. [Within.] Don't be such a torment.
Sir C. Will you open it?

Lady R. [Laughing.] No-no-ho, ho! Str C. Hell and confusion! what a puppy I make of myself! I'll bear this usage no longer. To be trifled with in this sort by a false, treacherous,- [Runs to the door and speaks through the key-hole.] The diamond was not the play. [Walks away as fast as he can.] I know what I am about, [Looks back in a vio lent rage.] and the club was not the best in the house. [Exit.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Enter DIMITY, laughing violently. Dim. Oh, I shall die; I shall expire in a fit of laughing. This is the modish couple that were so happy! such a quarrel as they have had; the whole house is in an uproar. Ho, ho, ho! a rare proof of the happiness they enjoy in high life. I shall never hear people of fashion mentioned again, but I shall be ready to crack my sides. They were both He, ho, ho! This is three weeks after marriage, I think.

Enter DRUGGET.

Drug. Hey! how! what's the matter, Dimity?-What am I called down stairs for? Dim. Why, there's two people of fashion[Stifles a laugh. Drug. Why, you malapert hussey! explain this moment.

Dim. The fond couple have been together by the ears this half hour. Are you satisfied now?

Drug. Ay!-what, have they quarrelled? what was it about?

Dim. Something too nice and fine for my comprehension, and yours too, I believe.

Sir C. I have been used by your daughter in so base, so contemptuous, so vile a manner, that I am determined not to stay in this house to-night.

Drug. This is a thunderbolt to me! after seeing how elegantly and fashionably you lived together, to find now all sunshine vanished! Do, Sir Charles, let me heal this breach, if possible.

Sir C. Sir, it is impossible. I'll not live with her an hour longer.

Drug. Nay, nay, don't be too hasty. Let me intreat you, go to bed and sleep upon it. In the morning, when you are cool

Sir C. Oh, Sir, I am very cool, I assure you. Ha! ha!-it is not in her power, Sir, to-aa-to disturb the serenity of my temper. Don't imagine that I'm in a passion. I am not so easily ruffled as you imagine. But, quietly and deliberately, I can repay the injury done me by a false, ungrateful, deceitful woman. Drug. The injuries done you by a false, ungrateful! My daughter, I hope, Sir

Sir C. Her character is now fully known to me. I understand her perfectly. She is a vile woman! that's all I have to say, Sir!

Drug. Hey! how!-a vile woman! what has she done? I hope she is not capable

Sir C. I shall enter into no detail, Mr. Drugget. See if the horses are put to. Drug. Mercy on me! in my old days to hear this.

Enter MRS. Drugget.

Mrs. D. Deliver me! I am all over in such a tremble. Sir Charles, I shall break my heart if there is any thing amiss.

Sir C. Madam, I am very sorry, for your sake; but to live with her is impossible.

Mrs. D. My poor dear girl! what can she have done?

Sir C. What all her sex can do: it needs no explanation: the very spirit of them all. Drug. Ay! I see how it is. She is bringing foul disgrace upon us. This comes of her marrying a man of fashion.

Sir C. Fashion, Sir, that should have instructed her better. She might have been sensible of her happiness. Whatever you may think of the fortune you gave her, my rank in life claims respect; claims obedience, attention, and truth.

Drug. And let me tell you, however you may estimate your quality, my daughter is dear to me.

Sir C. And, Sir, my character is dear to me. It shall never be in her power to expose

Drug. Hold your tongue, woman, I say: hold your tongue. You are not a person of fashion, at least. My daughter was ever a good girl.

Sir C. I have found her out.

Drug. Oh! then it's all over, and it does not signify arguing about it.

Mrs. D. That ever I should live to see this

hour! How the unfortunate girl could take such wickedness in her head, I can't imagine. I'll go and speak to the unhappy creature this [Exit.

moment.

Sir C. She stands detected now: detected in her truest colours.

Drug. Well, grievous as it may be, let me hear the circumstances of this unhappy busi

ness.

Sir C. Mr. Drugget, I have not leisure now. Her behaviour has been so exasperating, that I shall make the best of my way to town. My mind is fixed. She sees me no more, and so, your servant, Sir. [Exit.

Drug. What a calamity has here befallen us! A good girl, and so well disposed! But the evil communication of high life, and fashionable vices, turned her heart to folly.

Enter LADY RACKETT, MRS. DRugget, and DIMITY.

in this unaccountable manner; to alarm the Lady R. A cruel, barbarous man, to quarrel whole house, and to expose me and himself

too.

Mrs. D. Oh, child! I never thought it would have come to this. Your shame will not end here; it will be all over St. James' parish by to-morrow morning.

comfort still; the story will tell more to his Lady R. Well, if it must be so, there is one disgrace than mine.

Dim. As I'm a sinner, and so it will, Madam. He deserves what he has met with.

Mrs. D. Dimity, don't you encourage her. You shock me to hear you speak so. I did not think you had been so hardened.

Lady R. Hardened do you call it? I have lived in the world to very little purpose, if such trifles as these are to disturb my rest.

Mrs. D. You wicked girl! do you call it a trifle to be guilty of falsehood to your hus

band's bed?

Lady R. How![Turns short, and starez at her. Well, I protest and vow I don't comprehend all this. Has Sir Charles accused me of any impropriety in my conduct?

Mrs. D. Oh! too true he has he has found you out, and you have behaved basely, he

says.

Lady R. Madam!

Mrs. D. You have fallen into frailty, like many of your sex, he says; and he is resolved to come to a separation directly.

Lady R. Why then, if he is so base a wretch as to dishonour me in that manner, his heart shall ache before I live with him again.

Dim. Hold to that, Ma'am, and let his head ache into the bargain.

Mrs. D. Your poor father heard it as well as 1.

Lady R. Then let your doors be open for him this very moment; let him return to London. If he does not, I'll lock myself up, and the false one sha'n't approach me, though he were to whine on his knees at my very door. A base, injurious man!

[Exit.

Mrs. D. Dimity, do let us follow, and hear what she has to say for herself. [Exit.

Drug. I'll step and settle the matter with | Mr. Woodley, this moment. [Exit.

SCENE II.-Another Apartment. SIR CHARLES, with a pack of cards, at a table. Sir C. Never was any thing like her behaviour. I can pick out the very cards I had in my hand, and then 'tis as plain as the sun. There-there-now-there-no-damn itthere it was-now let me see ;-they had four by honours, and we played for the odd trick, damnation! honours were divided-ay! honours were divided, and then a trump was led, and the other side had the confusion!this preposterous woman has put it all out of my head. [Puts the cards into his pocket.] Mighty well, Madam; I have done with you." Enter MRS. DRUGGET.

Mrs. D. Sir Charles, let me prevail. with me and speak to her.

Come

Sir C. I don't desire to see her face. Mrs. D. If you were to see her all bathed in tears, I am sure it would melt your very

heart.

Sir C. Madam, it shall be my fault if ever I am treated so again. I'll have nothing to say to her.-[Going, stops.] Does she give up the point?

Mrs. D. She does, she agrees to any thing. Sir C. Does she allow that the club was the play?

Mrs. D. Just as you please; she is all submission.

Sir C. Does she own that the club was not the best in the house?

Mrs. D. She does; she is willing to own it. Sir C. Then I'll step and speak to her. never was clearer in any thing in my life.

I

[Exit. Mrs. D. Lord love 'em, they'll make it up now, and then they'll be as happy as ever.

Enter NANCY.

[Exit.

Love. Oh! a mere bagatelle, Sir; these. little fracas never last long, as you see; for here they come, in perfect good humour.

Enter SIR CHARLES RACKETT and LADY
RACKETT.

Sir C. Mr. Drugget, I embrace you; you see me in the most perfect harmony of spirits. Drug. What, all reconciled again?

Lady R. All made up, Sir. I knew how to bring the gentleman to a sense of his duty., This is the first difference, I think, we ever had, Sir Charles.

Sir C. And I'll be sworn it shall be the last. Drug. I am happy, now, as happy as a fond father can wish. Sir Charles, I can spare you an image to put on the top of your house in London.

Sir C. Infinitely obliged to you.

Drug. Well, well, it's time to retire: I am glad to see you reconciled; and now I wish you a good night, Sir Charles. Mr. Lovelace, this is your way. Fare ye well both. I am glad your quarrels are at an end: this way, Mr. Lovelace. [Exeunt DRUG, and LOVE. Lady R. Ah! you are a sad man, Sir Charles, to behave to me as you have done. Sir C. My dear, I grant it: and such an absurd quarrel too-ha, ha!

Lady R. Yes, la, ha!-about such a trifle. Sir C. It is pleasant how we could both fall into such an error. Ha, ha!

Lady R. Ridiculous beyond expression; ha, ha!

Sir C. And then the mistake your father and mother fell into.

Lady R. That too is a diverting part of the story. Ha, ha!-But, Sir Charles, must I stay and live with my father till I grow as fantastical as his evergreens?

Sir C. Nay, prithee don't remind me of my

folly.

Lady R. Ah! my relations were all standing behind counters, selling Whitechapel needles, while your family were spending great estates.

Sir C. Spare my blushes; you see I am covered with confusion.

Lady R. How could you say so indelicate a thing? I don't love you.

Sir C. It was indelicate, I grant it.
Lady R. Am I a vile woman?
Sir C. How can you, my angel?

Lady R. I sha'n't forgive you. I'll have you on your knees for this. [Sings and plays with him.] "Go, naughty man."-Ah, Sir Charles!

Sir C. The rest of my life shall aim at convincing you how sincerely I love you.

Lady R. [Sings.] "Go, naughty man, I can't abide you." Well, come, let us go to rest. [Going.] Ah, Sir Charles, now it's all over, the diamond was the play.

Sir C. Oh, no, no, no; now that one may speak, it was the club indeed.

Lady R. Indeed, my love you are mistaken. Sir C. You make me laugh; but I was not mistaken; rely upon my judgment.

Lady R. You may rely upon mine; you was wrong.

Sir C. [Laughing.] Po! no, no, no such

thing.

Lady R. [Laughing.] But I say, yes, yes,