Acres. Remember, Jack-a determined dog! | Languish will assign what cause of dislike Capt. A. Ay, ay," Fighting Bob." she can have to my son! why don't you begin, Jack? speak, you puppy, speak! [Aside to him. Mrs. M. It is impossible, Sir Anthony, she can have any. She will not say she has. Answer, hussy! why don't you answer? [Exeunt severally. SCENE II.-MRS. MALAPROP's Lodgings. MRS. MALAPROP and LYDIA. Mrs. M. Why, thou perverse one! tell me what you can object to him? Isn't he a handsome man? tell me that. A genteel man? a pretty figure of a man? Lyd. She little thinks whom she is praising! [Aside.] So is Beverley, Ma'am. man. [Aside to her. Sir A. Then, Madam, I trust that a childish and hasty predilection will be no bar to Jack's happiness. Zounds! sirrah! why don't you speak? [Aside to him. Capt. A. Hem, hem! Madam, hem! [ABSOLUTE attempts to speak, then returns to SIR ANMrs. M. No caparisons, Miss, if you please. THONY.] 'Faith! Sir, I am so confounded! and Caparisons don't become a young woman. so-so-confused! I told you I should be so, No! Captain Absolute is indeed a fine gentle-Sir, I knew it. The-the-tremor of my passion entirely takes away my presence of mind. Sir A. But it don't take away your voice, fool, does it? go up, and speak to her directMrs. M. Then he's so well bred; so full of ly! [ABSOLUTE makes signs to MRS. MALAPROP alacrity and adulation! I protest, when I saw to leave them together.] What the devil are you him, I thought of what Hamlet says in theat? unlock your jaws, sirrah, orplay: "Hesperian curls-the front of Job Lyd. Ay, the Captain Absolute you have seen. [Aside. [Aside to him. himself! an eye, like March, to threaten at Capt. A. [Draws near LYDIA.] Now Heaven command! a station, like Harry Mercury, send she may be too sullen to look round! I new"-something about kissing-on a hill-must disguise my voice. [Aside. Speaks in a however, the similitude struck me directly. low, hoarse tone.] Will not Miss Languish lend Lyd. How enraged she'll be presently, when an ear to the mild accents of true love? will she discovers her mistake. not Enter SERVANT. [Aside. Sir A. What the devil ails the fellow? why don't you speak out? not stand croaking like a frog in a quinsey! Capt. A. The-the-excess of my awe, and Serv. Sir Anthony and Captain Absolute are below, Ma'am. Mrs. M. Show them up here. [Exit SER-my-my-my modesty, quite choke me! VANT.] Now, Lydia, I insist on your behaving! as becomes a young woman. Show your good breeding, at least, though you have forgot your duty. Lyd. Madam, I have told you my resolution! I shall not only give him no encouragement, but I wont even speak to, or look at him. [Flings herself into a chair, with her face from the door. Enter SIR ANTHONY and CAPTAIN ABSOLUte. Sir A. Here we are, Mrs. Malaprop; come to mitigate the frowns of unrelenting beauty, and difficulty enough I had to bring this fellow: I don't know what's the matter, but if I had not held him by force, he'd have given me the slip. Mrs. M. You have infinite trouble, Sir Anthony, in the affair. I am ashamed for the cause! Lydia, Lydia, rise, I beseech you! pay your respects. [Aside to her. Sir A. I hope, Madam, that Miss Languish has reflected on the worth of this gentleman, and the regard due to her aunt's choice, and my alliance. [dside to MRS. M.] Now, Jack, speak to her. [Aside to the Captain. Capt. A. What the devil shall I do? [Aside.]| You see, Sir, she wont even look at me whilst you are here. I knew she wouldn't! I told you so. Let me entreat you, Sir, to leave us together! [To his Father. Lyd. [Aside.] I wonder I ha'n't heard my aunt exclaim yet! sure she can't have looked at him! perhaps their regimentals are alike, and she is something blind. Sir A. I say, Sir, I wont stir a foot yet. Mrs. M. I am sorry to say, Sir Anthony, that my affluence over my niece is very small. Turn round, Lydia, I blush for you! [Aside to her. Sir A. May I not flatter myself, that Miss Sir A. Ah! your modesty again! I'll tell you what, Jack; if you don't speak out directly and glibly too, I shall be in such a rage! Mrs. Malaprop, I wish the lady would favour us with something more than a side-front. [MRS. MALAPROP seems to chide LYDIA. Capt. A. So all will out, I see! [Goes up to LYDIA, speaks softly.] Be not surprised, my Lydia, suppress all surprise at present. Lyd. [Aside.] Heavens! 'tis Beverley's voice! [Looks round by degrees, and then starts up.] Is this possible? my Beverley! how can this be? my Beverley? Capt. A. Ah! 'tis all over! [Aside. Sir A. Beverley! the devil! Beverley! what can the girl mean? This is my son, Jack Absolute. Mrs. M. For shame, hussy! for shame! your head runs so on that fellow, that you have him always in your eyes! beg Captain Absolute's pardon, directly. Lyd. I see no Captain Absolute, but my loved Beverley! Sir A. Zounds, the girl's mad! her brain's turned by reading! Mrs. M. O' my conscience, I believe so! what do you mean by Beverley, hussy? you saw Captain Absolute before to-day; there he is; your husband that shall be. Lyd. With all my soul, Ma'am: when I refuse my Beverley Sir A. Oh, she's as mad as Bedlam! or has this fellow been playing us a rogue's trick! Come here, sirrah, who the devil are you? Capt. A. 'Faith, Sir, I am not quite clear myself; but I'll endeavour to recollect. Sir A. Are you my son or not? answer for your mother, you dog, if you wont for me. Capt. A. Ye powers of impudence, befriend me! [Aside.] Sir Anthony, most assuredly I am your wife's son; and that I sincerely believe myself to be yours also, I hope my duty Lyd. Lawyers! I hate lawyers! has always shown. Mrs. Malaprop, I am | your fortune, the lawyers shall make such your most respectful admirer, and shall be settlements asproud to add, affectionate nephew. I need not tell my Lydia, that she sees her faithful Beverley, who, knowing the singular generosity of her temper, assumed that name, and a station, which has proved a test of the most disinterested love, which he now hopes to enjoy in a more elevated character. Lyd. So there will be no elopement after all! Sir A. Upon my soul, Jack, thou art a very impudent fellow! to do you justice, I think I never saw a piece of more consummate assur ance ! Capt. A. Oh, you flatter me, Sir, you compliment: 'tis my modesty, you know, Sir; my modesty, that has stood in my way. Capt. A. Nay, then we will not wait for their lingering forms, but instantly procure the license, and Lyd. The license! I hate license! Capt A. Oh, my love! be not so unkind < thus let me entreat(Kneeling. Lyd. Pshaw! what signifies kneeling, when you know I must have you? Capt. A. [Rising.] Nay, Madam, there shall be no constraint upon your inclinations, I promise you. If I have lost your heart, I resign the rest. 'Gad, I must try what a little spirit will do. [Asiae. success! Capt. A. You wrong me, Lydia, you wrong me-only hear Lyd. [Rising.] Then, Sir, let me tell you, the interest you had there was acquired by a Sir A. Well, I am glad you are not the dull, mean, unmanly imposition, and deserves the insensible varlet you pretended to be, how-punishment of fraud. What, you have been ever! I'm glad you have made a fool of your treating me like a child! humouring my rofather, you dog-I am-So this was your peni-mance! and laughing, I suppose, at your tence, your duty, and obedience! I thought it was damned sudden-you never heard their names before, not you! what, the Languishes of Worcestershire, hey? if you could please Lyd. So, while I fondly imagined we were me in this affair, 'twas all you desired! ah! deceiving my relations, and flattered myself you dissembling villain! what! [Pointing to that I should outwit and incense them all— LYDIA.] she squints, don't she! a little red-behold my hopes are to be crushed at once, haired girl! hey? why, you hypocritical, young by my aunt's consent and approbation, and rascal, I wonder you a'n't ashamed to hold up am myself the only dupe at last! [Walking your head! about in a heat.] but here, Sir, here is the picCapt. A. "Tis with difficulty, Sir-I am con- ture; Beverley's picture! [Taking a miniature fused-very much confused, as you must per-from her bosom.] which I have worn, night and day, in spite of threats and entreaties! there, Sir, [Flings it to him.] and be assured, I throw the original from my heart as easily. ceive. Mrs. M. O lud! Sir Anthony! a new light breaks in upon me! hey! how! what! captain, did you write the letters then? what! am I to thank you for the elegant compilation of "an old weather-beaten she-dragon"-hey? O mercy! was it you that reflected on my parts of speech? Capt. A. Dear Sir! my modesty will be overpowered at last, if you don't assist me. I shall certainly not be able to stand it. Capt. A. Nay, nay, Ma'am, we will not differ as to that here, [Taking out a picture.] here is Miss Lydia Languish-what a difference! ay, there is the heavenly assenting smile, that first gave soul and spirit to my hopes! those are the lips which sealed a vow, as yet scarce dry in Cupid's calendar! and there the half-resentful blush, that would Sir A. Come, come, Mrs. Malaprop, we have checked the ardour of my thanks. Well, must forget and forgive; odds life! matters all that's past; all over, indeed! There, have taken so clever a turn all of a sudden, Madam; in beauty, that copy is not equal to that I could find in my heart to be so good-you, but in my mind, its merit over the origihumoured! and so gallant! hey! Mrs. Mala- nal, in being still the same, is such-that-I'll prop! come, we must leave them together; put it into my pocket. [Puts it up again. Mrs. Malaprop, they long to fly into each Lyd. [Softening.] 'Tis your own doing, Sir other's arms, warrant! Jack, isn't the I, I, I suppose you are perfectly satisfied. cheek as I said, hey? and the eye, you rogue! Capt. A. Oh, most certainly; sure now, this and the lip, hey? come, Mrs. Malaprop, we'll is much better than being in love! ha, ha, ha! not disturb their tenderness; theirs is the there's some spirit in this! what signifies time of life for happiness! [Sings. Youth's breaking some scores of solemn promises; the season made for joy, hey! odd's life! I'm all that's of no consequence, you know. To in such spirits, I don't know what I could not be sure, people will say, that Miss didn't do! permit me, Ma'am. [Gives his hand to know her own mind; but never mind that: MRS. MALAPROP. Sings.] Tol de rol-gad I or, perhaps, they may be ill-natured enough should like to have a little fooling myself-Tol to hint, that the gentleman grew tired of the lady, and forsook her; but don't let that fret You. de rol! de rol! [Exit singing, and handing Mrs. MALAPROP. LYDIA sits sullenly in the chair. Capt. A. So much thought bodes me no good [Aside.] So grave, Lydia! Lyd. Sir! Capt. A. So! 'egad! I thought as much! that damned monosyllable has froze me! [Aside.] what, Lydia, now that we are as happy in our friends' consent as in our mutual Lyd, There's no bearing this insolence! [Bursts into tears. Enter MRS. MALAPROP and SIR ANTHONY. Mrs. M. [Entering.] Come, we must interrupt your billing and cooing awhile. Lyd. This is worse than your treachery and deceit, you base ingrate! [Sobbing. Sir A. What the devil's the matter now! Zounds! Mrs. Malaprop, this is the oddest billing and cooing I ever heard!-but what the deuce is the meaning of it?-I'm quite astonished! Lyd. Ask the gentleman, Ma'am. Sir A. Zounds! I shall be in a frenzy! why, Jack, you are not come out to be any one else, are you? Mrs. M. Ay, Sir, there's no more trick, is there? you are not, like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once, are you? Opened just then to be giving no opinion at all. Sir L. That's no reason; for give me leave to tell you, a man may think an untruth as well as speak one. Capt. A. Very true, Sir; but if a man never utters his thoughts, I should think they might stand a chance of escaping controversy. Sir L. Then, Sir, you differ in opinion with me, which amounts to the same thing. Capt. A. Harkye, Sir Lucius, what you can drive at, unless you mean to quarrel with me, Capt. A. You'll not let me speak; I say the lady can account for this much better than II cannot conceive! can. Sir L. I humbly thank you, Sir, for the quickness of your apprehension; [Bowing.] you have named the very thing I would be Capt. A. Very well, Sir, shall certainly not baulk your inclinations; but I should be glad you would please to examine your motives. Lyd. Ma'am, you once commanded me never to think of Beverley again-there is the man; I now obey you: for, from this moment, I re-at. nounce him for ever. [Exit LYDIA. Mrs. M. O mercy and miracles! what a turn here is! Why sure, captain, you haven't behaved disrespectfully to my niece? Sir A. Ha, ha, ha-ha, ha, ha! now I see it. Ha, ha, ha! now I see it; you have been too lively, Jack. Capt. A. Nay, Sir, upon my word Sir A. Come, no lying, Jack, I'm sure 'twas so. Come, no excuses, Jack; why your father, you rogue, was so before you: the blood of the Absolutes was always impatient. Capt. A. By all that's good, Sir- SCENE III.-The North Parade. Sir L. I wonder where this Captain Abso- Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. Capt. A. To what fine purpose have I been plotting! a noble reward for all my schemes, upon my soul! a little gipsey! I did not think her so damned absurd either. 'Sdeath, I never was in a worse humour in all my life! I could cut my own throat, or any other person's, with the greatest pleasure in the world! Sir L. O, faith! I'm in the luck of it. I never could have found him in a sweeter temper for my purpose; to be sure I'm just come in the nick! now to enter into conversation with him, and so quarrel genteely. [SIR LUCIUS goes to ABSOLUTE.] With regard to that matter, captain, I must beg leave to differ in opinion with you. Capt. A. Upon my word, then, you must be a very subtle disputant: because, Sir, I hap Sir L. Pray, Sir, be easy, the quarrel is a very pretty quarrel, as it stands; we should only spoil it by trying to explain it. However, your memory is very short; or you could not have forgot an affront you passed on me within this week. So, no more, but name your time and place. Capt. A. Well, Sir, since you are so bent on it, the sooner the better; let it be this evening, here by the Spring Gardens. We shall scarcely be interrupted. Sir L. 'Faith! that same interruption, in affairs of this nature, shows very great illbreeding. I don't know what's the reason, but in England, if a thing of this kind gets wind, people make such a pother, that a gentleman can never fight in peace and quietness. However, if it's the same to you, captain, I should take it as a particular kindness, if you'd let us meet in King's-Mead-fields, as a little business will call me there about six o'clock, and I may dispatch both matters at once. Capt. A. 'Tis the same to me exactly. A little after six, then, we will discuss this matter more seriously. Sir L. If you please, Sir; there will be a very pretty small-sword light, though it wont do for a long shot. So, that matter's settled; and my mind's at ease. [Exit. Enter FAULKLAND, meeting CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE. Capt. A. Well met. I was going to look for you. Oh, Faulkland! all the demons of spite and disappointment have conspired against me! I'm so vexed, that if I had not the prospect of a resource, in being knocked o' the head by and by, I should scarce have spirits to tell you the cause. Faulk. What can you mean? Has Lydia changed her mind? I should have thought her duty and inclination would now have pointed to the same object. Capt. A. Ay, just as the eyes do of a person who squints: when her love-eye was fixed on me, t'other, her eye of duty, was finely obliqued: but, when duty bid her point that the same way, off t'other turned on a swivel, and secured its retreat with a frown! Faulk. But what's the resource you— Capt. A. Oh, to wind up the whole, Sir Lucius O'Trigger, you know him by sight, for some affront, which I am sure I never intended, has obliged me to meet him this evening at six o'clock: 'tis on that account I wish to see you, you must go with me. sure. Faulk. Nay, there must be some mistake, Sir Lucius shall explain himself, and I dare say matters may be accommodated: but this evening, did you say? I wish it had been any other time. Capt. A. Why? there will be light enough: there will (as Sir Lucius says) "be very pretty small-sword light, though it will not do for a long shot:" Confound his long shots. Faulk. But I am myself a good deal ruffled, by a difference I have had with Julia. My vile, tormenting temper has made me treat her so cruelly, that I shall not be myself till we are reconciled. Capt. A. By Heavens, Faulkland, you don't deserve her! Enter Servant; gives FAULKLAND a letter. to open it, Cupt. A. Here, let me see. [Takes the letter and opens it.] Ay, a final sentence, indeed! 'tis all over with you, 'faith! Faulk. Nay, Jack, don't keep me in suspense. Capt. A. Hear then. [Reads.] As I am convinced, that my dear Faulkland's own reflections have already upbraided him for his last unkindness to me, I will not add a word on the subject. I wish to speak with you as soon as possible. Yours, ever and truly. There's stubbornness and resentment for you! [Gives him the letter.] Why, man, you don't seem one whit the happier at this! Faulk. Oh, yes, I am-but-but JULIA. Capt. A. Confound your buts! You never hear any thing that would make another man bless himself, but you immediately damn it, with a but! Faulk. Now, Jack, as you are my friend, own honestly don't you think there is something forward, something indelicate, in this haste to forgive? Women should never sue for reconciliation; that should always come from us: They should retain their coldness till wooed to kindness; and their pardon, like their love, should "Not unsought, be won.' Capt. A. I have not patience to listen to you -thou'rt incorrigible! so say no more on the subject. I must go to settle a few matters; let me see you before six, remember, at my lodgings. A poor industrious devil, like me, who have toiled, and drudged, and plotted to gain my ends, and am, at last, disappointed by other people's folly, may, in pity, be allowed to swear and grumble a little! but a captious sceptic in love; a slave to fretfulness and whim, who has no difficulties but of his own creating, is a subject more fit for ridicule than compassion! [Exit. Faulk. I feel his reproaches; yet I would not change this too exquisite nicety, for the gross content with which he tramples on the thorns of love. His engaging me in this duel has started an idea in my head, which I will instantly pursue: I'll use it as the touchstone of Julia's sincerity and disinterestedness; if her love prove pure and sterling ore, my name will rest on it with honour; and, once I've stamped it there, I'll lay aside my doubts for ever! ACT V. [Exit SCENE I-JULIA's Dressing-Room. JULIA. what dreadful accident can he mean? why such charge to be alone? O Faulkland! how many unhappy moments, how many tears, have you cost me! Enter FAULKLAND. What means this? why this caution, Faulkland? Faulk. Alas, Julia! I am come to take a long farewell! Jul. Heavens! what do you mean? Faulk. You see before you a wretch whose life is forfeited. Nay, start not; the infirmity of my temper has drawn all this misery on me: I left you, fretful and passionate,-an untoward accident drew me into a quarrel; the event is, that I must fly this kingdom instantly! Oh, Julia, had I been so fortunate as to have called you mine entirely, before this mischance had fallen on me, I should not so deeply dread my banishment. Jul. My soul is oppressed with sorrow at the nature of your misfortune: had these adverse circumstances arisen from a less fatal cause, I should have felt strong comfort in the bosom every doubt of the warm sincerity of thought, that I could now chase from your my love. My heart has long known no other guardian: I now entrust my person to your honour, we will fly together: when safe and I receive a legal claim to be the partner of from pursuit, my father's will may be fulfilled, your sorrows, and tenderest comforter. Faulk. O Julia! I am bankrupt in gratiweigh the advantages you forego, and what tude! Would you not wish some hours to little compensation poor Faulkland can make you besides his solitary love? I have loved you for yourself: and if I now, Jul. I ask not a moment. No, Faulkland, which so long has pledged us to each other, more than ever, prize the solemn engagement it is because it leaves us no room for hard aspersions on my fame, and puts the seal of duty to an act of love. But let us not linger, perhaps this delay Faulk. "Twill be better I should not venture out again till dark: yet am I grieved to think what numberless distresses will press heavy on your gentle disposition! by this unhappy act? I know not whether Jul. Perhaps your fortune may be forfeited is so, but sure that alone can never make us unhappy. The little I have will be sufficient to support us, and exile never should be splendid. Faulk. Ay, but in such an abject state of the natural fretfulness of my temper, till I life my wounded pride, perhaps, may increase become a rude, morose companion, beyond your patience to endure. unhappy a bent, you will the more want some Jul. If your thoughts should assume so mild and affectionate spirit to watch over and console you, one who, by bearing your infirmities with gentleness and resignation, may teach you so to bear the evils of your fortune. quick! and with this useless device, I throw Faulk. Julia, I have proved you to the away all my doubts. How shall I plead to be forgiven this last unworthy effect of my restless, unsatisfied disposition? Jul. Has no such disaster happened as you related? Faulk. I am ashamed to own that it was all pretended. Let me to-morrow, in the face of Jul. How this message has alarmed me! Heaven, receive my future guide and moni tress, and expiate my past folly, by years of tender adoration. Jul. Hold, Faulkland! that you are free from a crime, which I before feared to name, Heaven knows, how sincerely I rejoice! These are tears of thankfulness for that! But, that your cruel doubts should have urged you to an imposition that has wrung my heart, gives me now a pang more keen than I can express! Faulk. By Heavens! Julia. Jul. Yet hear me. My father loved you, Faulkland! and you preserved the life that tender parent gave me! in his presence I pledged my hand; joyfully pledged it, where before I had given my heart. When, soon after, I lost that parent, it seemed to me, that Providence had, in Faulkland, shown me whither to transfer, without a pause, my grateful duty as well as my affection: Hence I have been content to bear from you, what pride and delicacy would have forbid me from another. I will not upbraid you by repeating how you have trifled with my sincerity. Faulk. I confess it all! yet, hear Jul. After such a year of trial, I might have flattered myself that I should not have been insulted with a new probation of my sincerity, as cruel as unnecessary! I now see that it is not in your nature to be content, or confident, in love. With this conviction I never will be yours. Faulk. Nay, but, Julia, by my soul and honour! If, after this Jul. But one word more. As my faith has once been given to you, I never will barter it with another. I shall pray for your happiness with the truest sincerity; and the dearest blessing I can ask of Heaven to send you, will be, to charm you from that unhappy temper, which alone has prevented the performance of our solemn engagement. All I request of you is, that you will yourself reflect upon this infirmity; and, when you number up the many true delights it has deprived you of, let it not be your least regret, that it lost you the love of one who would have followed you in beggary through the world! [Exit. Faulk. She's gone! for ever! There was an awful resolution in her manner, that rivetted me to my place, O fool! dolt! barbarian! Cursed as I am, with more imperfections than my fellow-wretches, kind fortune sent a heaven-gifted cherub to my aid, and, like a ruffian, I have driven her from my side! I must now haste to my appointment. Well, my mind is tuned for such a scene! I shall wish only to become a principal in it, and reverse the tale my cursed folly put me upon forging here. O love! tormentor! fiend! whose influence, like the moon's, acting on men of dull souls, makes idiots of them, but meeting subtler spirits, betrays their course, and urges sensibility to madness! [Exit. matter with you? You have been crying! I'll be hanged if that Faulkland has not been tormenting you! Jul. You mistake the cause of my uneasiness-Something has flurried me a little. Nothing that you can guess at. I would not accuse Faulkland to a sister. [Aside. Lyd. Ah! whatever vexations you may have, I can assure you mine surpass them. You know who Beverley proves to be? Jul. I will now own to you, Lydia, that Mr. Faulkland had before informed me of the whole affair. Lyd. So, then, I see I have been deceived by every one! but I don't care, I'll never have him. Jul. Nay, Lydia Lyd. Why, is it not provoking, when I thought we were coming to the prettiest distress imaginable, to find myself made a mere Smithfield bargain of at last? There had I projected one of the most sentimental elopements!--so becoming a disguise !-so amiable a ladder of ropes!-Conscious moon--four horses-Scotch parson-with such surprise to Mrs. Malaprop! and such paragraphs in the newspapers!-Oh! I shall die with disappointment! Jul. I don't wonder at it. Lyd. Now, sad reverse!-what have I to expect, but, after a deal of flimsy preparation, with a bishop's license, and my aunt's blessing, to go simpering up to the altar; or, perhaps, be cried three times in a country church, and have an unmannerly fat clerk ask the consent of every butcher in the parish, to join John Absolute, and Lydia Languish, spinster!-Oh, that I should live to hear myself called spinster! Jul. Melancholy, indeed! Lyd. How mortifying to remember the dear delicious shifts I used to be put to, to gain half a minute's conversation with this fellow !How often have I stole forth, in the coldest night in January, and found him in the garden stuck like a dripping statue !--There would he kneel to me in the snow, and sneeze and cough so pathetically!-he shivering with cold, and I with apprehension !--and while the freezing blast numbed our joints, how warmly would he press me to pity his flame, and glow with mutual ardour!-Ah, Julia, that was something like being in love! Jul. If I were in spirits, Lydia, I should chide you only by laughing heartily at you, but it suits more the situation of my mind at present earnestly to entreat you, not to let a man, who loves you with sincerity, suffer that unhappiness from your caprice, which I too well know caprice can inflict. Lyd. Oh, Lud! what, has brought my aunt here? Enter MRS. MALAPROP and DAVID. Mrs. M. So, so here's fine work!-here's fine suicide, parricide, and simulation, going found to prevent the antistrophe! on in the fields! and Sir Anthony not to be Jul. For Heaven's sake, Madam, what's the meaning of this? sake! tell us what is the matter! Lyd. Oh, patience!-Do,Ma'am,for Heaven's Mrs. M. Why, murder's the matter! slaughter's the matter! killing's the matter!-but he can tell you the perpendiculars. Jul. Do speak, friend. [TO DAVID. David. Lookye, my lady-by the mass, Z z |