woman that has not touched the heart of a man, before he leads her to the altar, has scarcely a chance to charm it, when possession and security turn their powerful arms against her. But here he comes-I'll disappear for a moment.-Don't spare me. [Exit. Enter DORICOURT, not seeing MRS. RACKETT. Dor. So! [Looking at a picture.] This is my mistress, I presume.-Ma foi! the painter has hit her off. The downcast eye-the blushing cheek timid-apprehensive-bashfultear and a prayer-book would have made her La Bella Magdalena Give me a woman, in whose touching mien A mind, a soul, a polish'd art, is seen; Whose motion speaks, whose poignant air Mrs. R. Is that an impromptu ? [Touching him on the shoulder with her fan. Dor. [Starting.] Madam!Finely caught! [Aside.] Not absolutely-it struck me during the desert, as a motto for your picture. Mrs. R. Gallantly turned!-I perceive however, Miss Hardy's charms have made no violent impression on you. And who can wonder?The poor girl's defects are so obvious. Dor. Defects! -Why, Let. Well, hang it, I'll take heart.and I'll he is but a man, you know, cousinlet him see, I wasn't born in a wood to be scared by an owl. [Half apart; advances, and looks at him through her fingers.] He, he, he! [Goes up to him, and makes a very stiff, formal courtesy; he bows.] You have been a great traveller, Sir, I hear. Then I wish you'd tell us about the fine sights you saw when you went over sea.I have read in a book, that there are some countries, where the men and women are all horses.- -Did you see any of Dor. Indeed! Let. Oh, lud, he speaks!-Why, if you must know- -there was the curate at home.When papa was a hunting, he used to come a Mrs. R. Merely those of education. Her suitoring, and make speeches to me out of father's indulgence ruined her.-Mauvaise hon-books.- -Nobody knows what a mort of fine te, conceit, and ignorance, all unite in the lady you are to marry. Dor. Marry! I marry such a woman!Your picture, I hope, is overcharged.. marry mauvaise honte, pertness, and ignorance! Mrs. R. Thank your stars, that ugliness and ill temper are not added to the list.must think her handsome. -You Dor. Half her personal beauty would content me; but could the Medicean Venus be animated for me, and endowed with a vulgar soul, I should become the statue, and my heart transformed to marble. Mrs. R. Bless us!-We are in a hopeful way, then! Dor. There must be some envy in this. I see she is a coquette-[Aside.]-Ha, ha, ha! and you imagine I am persuaded of the truth of your character? ha, ha, ha! Miss Hardy, have been assured, Madam, is elegant and accomplished- -but one must allow for a lady's painting. Mrs. R. I'll be even with him for that. [Aside.] Ha, ha, ha! and so you have found me out!Well, I protest, I meant no harm; 'twas only to increase the éclat of her appearance, that I threw a veil over her charms.Here comes the lady :- -her elegance and accomplishments will announce themselves. Enter LETITIA, running. Let. La, cousin, do you know that our John. -Oh, dear heart!- -I didn't see you, Sir. [Hanging down her head, and dropping behind MRS. R. Mrs. R. Fy, Letitia.- Mr. Doricourt thinks you a woman of elegant manners. Stand forward and confirm his opinion. He's my Let. No, no; keep before me.sweetheart; and 'tis impudent to look one's sweetheart in the face, you know. Mrs. R. You'll allow in future for a lady's painting, Sir.-Ha, ha, ha! Dor. I am astonished! things he used to say to me- -and call me Venis, and Jubah, and Dinah. Dor. And pray, fair lady, how did you answer him? " Let. Why, I used to say, "Look you, Mr. Curate, don't think to come over me with your flim-flams, for a better man than ever trod in your shoes is coming over-sea to marry me.' -But, 'fags, I begin to think I was out Parson Dobbins was the sprightfuller man of the two. Dor. Surely this cannot be Miss Hardy? Let. Laws, why don't you know me ?-You saw me to-day-but I was daunted before my father, and the lawyer, and all them; and did not care to speak out-so, may be, you thought I couldn't- -but I can talk as fast as any body, when I know folks a little.And now I have shown my parts, I hope you'll like me better. Enter HARDY. Har. I foresee this wont do- -Mr. Doricourt, may be, you take my daughter for a fool, but you are mistaken she's as sensible a girl as any in England. Dor. I am convinced she has a very uncommon understanding, Sir.-I did not think he had been such an ass! [Aside. Let. My father will undo the whole. [Aside.] -Laws, papa, how can you think he can take me for a fool ;-when every body knows, I beat the 'pothecary at conundrums, last Christmas-time ?-And didn't I make a string of names, all in riddles, for the Lady's Diary? -There was a little river and a great house That was Newcastle.-There was what a lamb says, and three letters-that was ba, and k-e-r, ker, baker-There was Har. Don't stand ba-a-ing there- -you'll make me mad in a moment- -I tell you, Sir, that, for all that, she's dev'lish sensible. Dor. Sir, I give all possible credit to your assertions. 3 Y Let. Laws, papa, do come along. If you stand watching, how can my sweetheart break his mind, and tell me how he admires me? Dor. That would be difficult, indeed, Madam. Har. I tell you, Letty, I'll have no more of this. I see well enough Let. Laws, don't suub me before my husband that is to be.You'll teach him to snub me too and, I believe, by his looks, he'd like to begin now. So let us go- -cousin, you may tell the gentleman what a genus I have- -how I can cut watch-papers, aud work catgut-make quadrille baskets with pins, and take profiles in shade-ay, as well as the lady at No. 62, South Moulton-street, Grosvenor-square. [Exeunt HAR. and LET. Mrs. R. What think you of my painting now? Dor. Oh, mere water colours, Madam. the lady has caricatured your picture. Mrs. R. And how does she strike you on the whole? Dor. Like a good design, spoiled by the incapacity of the artist. Her faults are evidently the result of her father's weak indulgence. I observed an expression in her eye, that seemed to satirize the folly of her lips. Mrs. R. But at her age, when education is fixed, and manner becomes nature, hopes of improvement Dor. Would be absurd.-Besides, I can't turn school-master.-Doricourt's wife must be capable of improvement-but it must be, because she's got beyond it. Mrs. R. I am pleased your misfortune sits no heavier. Dor. Your pardon, Madam-so mercurial was the hour in which I was born, that misfortunes always go plump to the bottom of my heart, like a pebble in water, and leave the surface unruffled. I shall certainly set off for Bath, or the other world, to-night-but whether I shall use a chaise, with four swift coursers, or go off in a tangent-from the aperture of a pistol, deserves consideration I make my adieus. so [Going. Mrs. R. Oh, but I entreat you, postpone your journey till to-morrow-determine on which you will-you must be this night at the masquerade. Dor. Masquerade! -If you resolve to visit the other world, you may as well take one night's pleasure first in this, you know. Dor. Faith, that's very true;-ladies are the best philosophers after all. Expect me at the masquerade. Mrs. R. He's a charming fellow. 1 think [Exit. Letitia sha'n't have him. [Going. Enter HARDY. Har. What's he gone? Mrs. R. Yes; and I am glad he is. You would have ruined us! Now, I beg, Mr. Hardy, you wont interfere in this business; it is a little out of your way. Har. Hang me, if I don't, though-I foresee [Exit. very clearly what will be the end of it, if I leave you to yourselves; so I'll e'en follow him to the masquerade, and tell him all about it. Let me see what shall my dress begreat mogul? No A grenadier? No-that, I foresee, would make a laugh. Hang -no me, if I don't send to my favourite little Quick, and borrow his Jew Isaac's dress. 1 -A know the dog likes a glass of good wine; so I'll give him a bottle of my forty-eight, and he shall teach me. Ay, that's it. I'll be cunning little Isaac. If they complain of my want of wit, I'll tell them, the cursed Duenna wears the breeches, and has spoiled my parts. [Exit. SCENE II.-COURTALL'S. Enter COURTALL, SAVILLE, and three GENTLE Court. You sha'n't go yet.-Another catch and another bottle. 1 Gent. May I be a bottle, and an empty bottle, if you catch me at that!Why, I am going to the masquerade; Jack know who I mean, is to meet me, and we are to have a leap at the new lustre. -, you 2 Gent. And I am going to—a pilgrim[Hickups.]-Am not I in a pretty pickle for a pilgrim ?And Tony, here the disguise-in the disguise of a gentlehe is going in man! 1 Gent. We are all very disguised-so bid them draw up-D'ye hear? [Exeunt the three GENTLEMEN. Sav. Thy skull, Courtall, is a lady's thimbleno, an egg-shell. Court. Nay, then you are gone too: you never aspire to similes, but in your cups. Sav. No, no; I am steady enough-but the fumes of the wine pass directly through thy egg-shell, and leave thy brain as cool asHey! I am quite sober; my similes fail me. Court. Then we'll sit down here, and have one sober bottle. Sav. Wherefore ugly? science to exact those attentions that a pretty Court. Because she could not have the conwife expects; or, if she should, her resentments would be perfectly easy to me, nobody would undertake to revenge her cause. Sav. Thou art a most licentious fellow ! certain; but I have a warm heart for those Court. I should hate my own wife, that's of other people; and so here's to the prettiest wife in England-Lady Frances Touchwood. drink her. [Drinks.] How the devil came Lady Sav. Lady Frances Touchwood! I rise to Frances in your head? I never knew you give a woman of chastity before. Court. That's odd, for you have heard me give half the women of fashion in England.— chastity to be? But, pray now what do you take a woman of Suv. Such a woman as lady Frances Touch[Sneeringly. wood, Sir. Court. Oh, you are grave, Sir; I remember you was an adorer of hers.-Why didn't you marry her? Sav. I had not the arrogance to look so high. -Had my fortune been worthy of her, she should not have been ignorant of my admiration. Court. Precious fellow! What, I suppose you would not dare tell her now that you admire her? Sav. No, nor you. Court. By the Lord, I have told her so. Court. Ha, ha, ha!-Is it so? Sav. How did she receive the declaration? Court. Why, in the old way; blushed, and frowned, and said she was married. Sav. What amazing things thou art capable of! I could more easily have taken the pope by the beard, than profaned her ears with such a declaration. Court. I shall meet her at Lady Brilliant's to-night, where I shall repeat it; and I'd lay my life, under a mask, she'll hear it all without blush or frown. Sav. [Rising.] 'Tis false, Sir!-She wont. Court. She will! [Rising.] Nay, I'll venture to lay a round sum that I prevail on her to go out with me-only to taste the fresh air, I mean. Sav. Preposterous vanity! From this moment I suspect that half the victories you have boasted are as false and slanderous as your pretended influence with Lady Frances. Court. Pretended!-How should such a fel low as you now, who never soared beyond a cherry-cheeked daughter of a ploughman in Norfolk, judge of the influence of a man of my figure and habits? I could show thee a list, in which there are names to shake thy faith in the whole sex; and, to that list I have no doubt of adding the name of lady Sav. Hold, Sir! My ears cannot bear the profanation;-you cannot-dare not approach her! For your soul you dare not mention love to her! Her look would freeze the word, whilst it hovered on thy licentious lips. Court. Whu! whu! Well, we shall see this evening, by Jupiter, the trial shall be made. If I fail-I fail. Sav. I think thou dar'st not! But my life, my honour, on her purity. [Exit. Court. Hot-headed fool! But since he has brought it to this point, by gad I'll try what can be done with her ladyship. [Musing— rings.] She's frost-work, and the prejudices of education yet strong: ergo, passionate professions will only inflame her pride, and put her on her guard. For other arts then! Enter DICK. Dick, do you know any of the servants at Sir Dick. Yes, Sir; I knows the groom, and one of the housemaids; for the matter o'that, she's my own cousin; and it was my mother that helped her to the place. Court. Do you know Lady Frances' maid? Court. Then go there directly, and employ Court. Be exact in your intelligence, and come to me at Boodle's. [Exit DICK.] If I cannot otherwise succeed, I'll beguile her as Jove did Alcmena, in the shape of her husband. The possession of so fine a woman-the triumph over Saville, are each a sufficient motive; and, united, they shall be resistless. SCENE III.-The Street. Enter SAVILLE. [Exit. Sav. The air has recovered me! what have I been doing! perhaps my petulance may be the cause of her ruin, whose honour I asserted: his vanity is piqued; and, where women are concerned, Courtall can be a villain. Enter DICK; bows, and passes hastily. Sav. Where are you going, Dick? master sent me. Sav. Well answered-but I have a particular reason for my inquiry, and you must tell me. Dick. Why then, Sir, I am going to call upon a cousin of mine, that lives at Sir George Touchwood's. Sav. Very well.-There, [ Gives him money.] you must make your cousin drink my health. -What are you going about? Dick. Why, Sir, I believe 'tis no harm, or elseways I am sure I would not blab-I am only going to ax if Sir George goes to the masquerade to-night, and what dress he wears? Sav. Enough! now, Dick, if you will call at my lodgings in your way back, and acquaint me with your cousin's intelligence, I'll double the trifle I have given you. [Exit. Dick. Bless your honour, I'll call-never fear. Sav. Surely the occasion may justify the means;-'tis doubly my duty to be Lady Frances' protector. Courtall, I see, is planning an artful scheme: but Saville shall out[Exit. plot him. SCENE IV.-SIR GEORGE TOUCHWOOD'S Enter SIR GEORGE TOUCHWOOD and VILLERS. Vil. For shame, Sir George! you have left Lady Frances in tears.-How can you afflict her? Sir G. "Tis I that am afflicted;-my dream of happiness is over-Lady Frances and I are disunited. Vil. The devil! why, you have been in town but ten days: she can have made no acquaintance for a commons affair yet. Sir G. Pho! 'tis our minds that are disunited: she no longer places her whole delight in me; she has yielded herself up to the world! Vil. Yielded herself up to the world! why did you not bring her to town in a cage? then she might have taken a peep at the world !~ But, after all, what has the world done? a twelvemonth since you was the gayest fellow in it:-if any body asked who dresses best?Sir George Touchwood.-Who is the most gallant man? Sir George Touchwood.-Who And now is the most wedded to amusement and dissipation? Sir George Touchwood. Sir George is metamorphosed into a sour censor; and talks of fashionable life with as much bitterness as the old crabbed fellow in Rome. me! said she to her companion, here's Lady Frances, without Sir Hurlo Thrumbo!-My dear Mrs. Rackett, consider what an im portant charge you have! For Heaven's sake take her home again, or some enchanter on a flying dragon will descend and carry her off. -Oh, said another, I dare say Lady Frances mond:-her tender swain would never have trusted her so far without such a precaution. Sir G. Heaven and earth!-How shall innocence preserve its lustre amidst mauners so corrupt! Sir G. The moment I became possessed of such a jewel as Lady Frances, every thing wore a different complexion; that society in which I lived with so much éclat, became the object of my terror; and I think of the man-has a clue at her heel, like the peerless Rosaners of polite life as I do of the atmosphere of a pest-house. My wife is already infected; she was set upon this morning by maids, widows, and bachelors, who carried her off in triumph, in spite of my displeasure. Vil. Ay, to be sure; there would have been no triumph in the case, if you had not opposed it:-but I have heard the whole story from Mrs. Rackett; and I assure you, Lady Frances didn't enjoy the morning at all;-she wished for you fifty times. Sir G. Indeed! Are you sure of that? Sir G. I wish I had known it:-my uneasiness at dinner was occasioned by very different ideas. Vil. Here then she comes, to receive your apology; but if she is true woman, her displeasure will rise in proportion to your contrition;-and till you grow careless about her pardon she wont grant it :-however, I'll leave you.-Matrimonial duets are seldom set in the style I like. [Exit. Enter LADY FRANCES. Sir G. The sweet sorrow that glitters in these eyes I cannot bear. [Embracing her.] Look cheerfully, you rogue. Lady F. I cannot look otherwise, if you are pleased with me. Sir G. Well, Fanny, to-day you made your entrée in the fashionable world; tell me honestly the impressions you received. Lady F. Indeed, Sir George, I was so hurried from place to place, that I had not time to find out what my impressions were. Sir G. That's the very spirit of the life you have chosen. Lady F. Every body about me seemed happy -but every body seemed in a hurry to be happy somewhere else. Sir G. And you like this? Lady F. One must like what the rest of the world likes. Sir G. Pernicious maxim! Lady F. But, my dear Sir George, you have not promised to go with me to the masquerade. Sir G. "Twould be a shocking indecorum to be seen together, you know. Lady F. Oh, no; I asked Mrs. Rackett, and she told me we might be seen together at the masquerade without being laughed at. Sir G. Really! Lady F. Indeed, to tell you the truth, I could wish it was the fashion for married people to be inseparable: for I have more heartfelt satisfaction in fifteen minutes, with you at my side, than fifteen days of amusement could give me without you. Sir G. My sweet creature! How that confession charms me !-Let us begin the fashion. Ludy F. O, impossible! we should not gain a single proselyte; and you can't conceive what spiteful things would be said of us.-At Kensington to-day a lady met us, whom we saw at court when we were presented; she lifted up her hands in amazement!-Bless Enter GIBSON. Gib. Your honour talked, I thought, something about going to the masquerade? Sir G. Well. Gib. Hasn't your honour?-I thought your honour had forgot to order a dress. Lady F. Well considered, Gibson.-Come, will you be Jew, Turk, or heretic; a Chinese emperor, or a ballad-singer; a rake, or a watchman? Sir G. Oh, neither, my love; I can't take the trouble to support a character. Lady F. You'll wear a domino then: I saw a pink domino trimmed with blue, at the shop where I bought my habit.-Would you like it? Sir G. Any thing, any thing. Lady F. Then go about it directly, Gibson. ACT IV. SCENE I-A Masquerade. -it [Exeunt. A Party dancing cotillons; variety of characters, &c. Enter MOUNTEBANK. Mount. Who'll buy my nostrums? who'll buy my nostrums? Here's a powder for projectors -'twill rectify the fumes of an empty stomach, dissipate their airy castles, and make them dreain of beef and pudding. Enter FOLLY, with cap and bells, on a hobbyhorse. Mask. Hey Tom Fool, what business have you here? Folly. What, Sir, affront a prince in his own dominions? Music.-Enter HARDY, in the dress of Isaae Har. Why, isn't it a shame to see so many Mask. Why, thou little testy Israelite! back subscription for the good of the land on whose to Duke's-place, and preach your tribe into a milk and honey ye fatten.-Where are your Joshuas and your Gideons, ay? What! all dwindled into stock-brokers, pedlars, and rag-men? tians, and by degrees grow into all the pri Har. No, not all. Some of us turn Chris Mrs. R. Look at this dumpling Jew; he must be a Levite by his figure. You have surely practised the flesh-hook a long time, friend, to have raised that goodly presence. see. Har. About as long, my brisk widow, as you have been angling for a second husband; but my hook has been better baited than yours. You have only caught gudgeons, I [Pointing to FLUTTER. Flut. Oh! this is one of the geniuses they hire to entertain the company with their accidental sallies.-Let me look at your commonplace book, friend. I want a few good things. Har. I'd oblige you, with all my heart; but you'll spoil them in repeating-or if you should not, they'll gain you no reputation-for nobody will believe they are your own. Sir G. He knows you, Flutter;-the little gentleman fancies himself a wit, I see. Har. There's no depending on what you see -the eyes of the jealous are not to be trusted. -Look to your lady. Lady F. Oh, I should like to see this provi dent family. Flut. Honour me with your arm. [Exeunt FLUTTER and LADY FRANCES. Mrs. R. Come, Sir George, you shall be my beau. We'll make the tour of the rooms, and meet them. Oh! your pardon, you must follow Lady Frances; or the wit and fine parts of Mr. Flutter may drive you out of her head. Ha, ha, ha! [Exit. Sir G. I was going to follow her, and now I dare not. How can I be such a fool as to be governed by the fear of that ridicule which I despise ? [Exit. Music.-Enter DORICOURT, meeting a MASK. Dor. Ha! my lord-I thought you had been engaged at Westminster on this important night. Musk. So I am- -I slipped out as soon as Lord Trope got upon his legs; I can badiner here an hour or two, and be back again before he is down. There's a fine figure! I'll address her. Enter LETITIA. Charity, fair lady! Charity for a poor pilgrim. Mask. That blessing would do from a de- Mask. Will you grant me no favour? Let. Yes, one.-I'll make you my partnernot for life, but through the soft mazes of a minuet. -Dare you dance? Dor. Some spirit in that. Mask. That, lady, is against my vow; but there is a man of the world. Dor. Do you know her, my lord? Flut. He knows you, Sir George. Sir G. What, am I the town talk? Har. I can neither see Doricourt nor Letty. -I must find them out. [Aside; exit. Mrs. R. Well, Lady Frances, is not all this Mask. No. Such a woman as that, would charming? Could you have conceived such a formerly have been known in any disguise; brilliant assemblage of objects? but beauty is now common.-Venus seems to Lady F. Delightful! The days of enchant-have given her cestus to the whole sex. ment are restored; the columns glow with sapphires and rubies: emperors and fairies, beauties and dwarfs, meet me at every step! Sir G. How lively are first impressions on sensible minds! In four hours, vapidity and languor will take place of that exquisite sense of joy which flutters your little heart. Mrs. R. What an inhuman creature! Fate has not allowed us these sensations above ten times in our lives; and would you have us shorten them by anticipation? Flut. O Lord! your wise men are the great est fools upon earth;-t they reason about their enjoyments, and analyze their pleasures, whilst the essence escapes. Look, Lady Frances! D'ye see that figure strutting in the dress of an emperor? His father retails oranges in Botolph-lane. That gipsy is a maid of honour, and that rag-man a physician. Lady F. Why, you know every body! Flut. Oh, every creature. A mask is nothing at all to me. I can give you the history of half the people here. In the next apartment there's a whole family, who, to my knowledge, have lived on water-cresses this month, to make a figure here to-night!but, to make up for that, they'll cram their pockets with cold ducks and chickens, for a carnival to-morrow. [A Minuet. Dor. [During the Minuet.] She dances divinely! When ended.] Somebody must know her? Let us inquire who she is. [Exeunt. Enter SAVILLE and KITTY WILLIS, habited like LADY FRANCES. Sav. I have seen Courtall in Sir George's habit, though he endeavoured to keep himself concealed. Go, and seat yourself in the tearoom, and on no account discover your face :remember too, Kitty, that the woman you are to personate is a woman of virtue. Kitty. I am afraid I shall find that a difcult character; indeed I believe it is seldom kept up through a whole masquerade. Sav. Of that you can be no judge.--Follow my directions, and you shall be rewarded. [Exit KITTY, Enter DORICOURT. Dor. Ha! Seville! Did you see a lady Dor. Very odd. Nobody knows her. Dor. Cutting watch-papers and making conundrums, I suppose. Sav. What do you mean? |