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hand upon it.

Darn. Not so well as you make your de- tea's ready, what bave you to do but to drink fence, Charlotte.

il?—but you, I suppose, expect a lover's heart, Char. Lord! I had forgot, he is to teach like your lamp, should be always flaming at me Greek, too.

your elbow; and when it's ready to go out, Darn. Trifling tyrant! how long, Charlotte, you indolently supply it with the spirit of do you

think you can find new evasions for contradiction. what I say unto you?

Char. And so you suppose, that your asChar. Lord! you are horrid silly; but since surance has made an end of this matter? 'lis love that makes you such a dunce-poor Cal. L. Not till you have given bira your Dərnley, I forgive you.

Char. That then would complete it. Enter Colonel LAMBERT, unobserved. Col. L. Perfecily. Darn. That's kind, however.-But, to com- Char. Why then take it, Darnley. Now I plele my joy, be kinder yet-and

presume you are in high triumph, sir. Char. Oh! I can'ı! I can't!-Lord! did you Col. L. No, sister; now you are consistent never ride a horse-match ?

with that good sense I always thought you Darn. Was ever so wild a question!

mistress of. Char. Because, if you have, it runs in my

Char. And now I beg we may separate; head you galloped a mile beyond the win- for our being seen together, at this critical ning-post, to make sure on't.

juncture, may give that devil, the doctor, susDarn. Now, I understand you. But since picion of a confederacy, and make him set you will have me touch every thing so very some engine at work that we are not aware of. tenderly, Charlotte, how sball I find proper Col. L. It's a very proper caution. Come words to ask you the lover's last necessary along, Darnley; nay, you must leave her now, question?

whatever violence you do yourself. Char. Ob! there's a thousand points to be Char. Ay, ay, take him with you, brother adjusted before that's answered.

-or stay, Darnley; if you please, you may Col. L. [advances] Name them this moment; come along with me.

(Exeunt. sor, positively, this is the last time of asking ?). Char. Pshaw! who sent for you?

ACT V. Col. L. I only came to teach you to speak Scenel.-A Parlour at Sir John LAMBERT's. plain English, my dear. Char. Lord! mind your own business; can't


Char. But really, will you stand to the Col. L. So I will; for I will make you do agreement though, that I have made with the more of yours in two minutes, than you doctor? would bave done without me in a twelvemonth. Darn. Why not? you shall not break your Why, bow now!-do you think the man's word upon my account, though he might be lo dangle after your ridiculous airs for ever? a villain you gave it to. Suppose I should Char. This is mighty pretty!

talk with sir John myself ?--'lis true, he has Col. L. You'll say so on Thursday se'nnight slighted me of late. for (let affairs take what turn they will in the

Char. No malter-here be comes-this may family), that's positively your wedding-day- open another scene of action to that I believe Nay, you shan't stir.

my brother's preparing for. Char. Was ever such a'ssurance ! Darn. lpon my life, madam, I'm out of

Enter Sir John and Lady LAMBERT. countenance! I don't know how to behave myself. Sir J. Mr. Darnley, I am glad I have mel

Char. No, no; let him go on only—this is you here. beyond whatever was known, sure!

Darn. I have endeavoured twice to-day, sir, Col. L. Ha! ha! if I was to leave you to to pay my respects to you. Tourselves, what a couple of pretty out of Sir J. Sir, I'll be plain with you-I went countenanced figures you would make! hum- out to avoid you; but where the welfare of a ming and hawing 2) upon the vulgar points of child is concerned, you must not take it ill if jointure and pin-money. Come, come, I know we don't stand upon ceremony-However, since what's proper on both sides; you shall leave I bave reason now to be more in temper than

perhaps I was at that time, I shall be glad to Darn. I had rather Charlotte would name talk with you. her own terms to me.

Darn. I take it as a favour, sir. Col. L. Have you a mind to any thing par- Sir J. You must allow, Mr. Darnley, that ticular, madam?

conscience is the rule which every honest Char. Why, sure! what do you think I'm man ought to walk by. only to be filled out as you please, and sweet- Darn. Tis granted, sir. ened and sipped up like a dish of tea? Sir J. Then give me leave to tell you, sir,

Col. L. Why pray, madam, when your that giving you my daughter would be to act 1) 'The hanns of marriage, when the parties have uu licenses, think you an ill liver; and consequently the

against that conscience I pretend to, while I of marriage between – of – and of — any same tie obliges me to bestow her on a belter oue knowing any just cause or impediment why inanthese should not be joined together sa holy matri- Darn. Well but, sir, come to the poinl. mony are tow to declare it; and this is the first time of asking ;” and so on to the second nad third, which Suppose the doctor whom I presume you

it to me.

design her for) actually consents io give me a) Ham and la interjections, used as verbs.

lup his interest?


is the last time.


Sir J. But why do you suppose, sir, he fact, and I shall soon accuse myself, and own will give up his interest?

my folly cqual to his baseness. Darn. I only judge from what your daughter Lady L. Behind that screen you may easily tells me, sir.

conceal yourself. Sir J. My daughter!

Sir J. Be it so. Darn. I appeal to her.

Lady L. Mr. Darnley, shall we beg your Char. And I appeal even to yourself, sir, leave; and you, Charloite, take the least susHas not the doctor, just now in the garden, pected way to send the doctor to me directly. spoke in favour of Mr. Darnley to you? Nay, Char. I have a thought will do it, madam. pray, sir, be plain; because more depends on Sir J. Oh, Charlotte! Oh, Mr. Darnley ! ihat: than you can easily imagine or believe. Darn. Have but resolution, sir, and fear

Sir J. What senseless insinuation have you nothing. [Exeunt Durnley and Charlotte. got into your head now?

Lady L. Now, 'sir, you are to consider what Char. Be so kind, sir, first to answer me, a desperate disease I have undertaken to cure: that I may be better able to inform you. therefore, be sure keep close and still; and Sir J. Well

, I own he has declined his in- when the proof is full, appear at your discretion. terest ió favour of Mr. Darnley; but I must Sir J. Fear not; I will conform myself, tell you, madam, he did it in so modest, so Yet, be not angry, my love, if, in a case like friendly, so good natured, so conscientious a this, I have also charity enough to hope you manner, that I now think myself more than may yet be deceived in what you charge bim ever bound in honour to espouse him. with, till the evidence of my own senses as

Char. But now, sir, only for argument's sure me of the contrary. sake, suppose I could prove that all this seem- Lady L. 'Tis just. ing virtue was artificial; that his regard for Sir J. Hark! I think I hear him coming. Mr. Darnley was neither founded

upon Lady L. Now, my dear, remember your desty, friendship, good nature, nor conscience; promise to have patience. or in short that he has, like a villain, bartered, Sir J. Rely upon't. bargained to give me to Mr. Darnley, for balf Lady L. To your post then. the four thousand pounds you valued his con- [Sir John goes behind the screen. sent at; I say, sir, suppose this could be proved, where would be his virtue then?

Enter Doctor CantWELL, with a book. Sir. J. It is impious to suppose it.

Dr. C. Madam, your woman tells me, that, Char. Then, sir, from what principle must being here and alone, you desired to speak you suppose that I accuse him?

with me. Sir I. From an obstinate prejudice to all Lady L. I did, sir-but that we may be sure that's good and virtuous.

that we are alone, pray shut the outward door Char. That's too hard, sir. But the worst -another surprise might ruin us—is all safe? your opinion can provoke me to, is to marry Dr. C. I have taken care, madam. Mr. Darnley, without either his consent or yours. Lady L. But I am afraid I interrupt your

Sir J. What, do you brave me, madam? meditation.

Char. No, sir; bui I scorn a lie; and will Dr. C. No, madam, no; I was only looking so far vindicate my integrity, as to insist on over some pious exhortations here, for the use your believing me; if not, as a child you of a society of chosen brethren. abandon, I have a right to throw myself into Lady L. Ah, doctor, what have you done other arms for protection.

10 me? the trouble of my mind since our last Sir. I. I am confounded. These tears can- unfortunate conference is not to be expressed. not be counterfeit; nor can this be true. You indeed discovered to me what, perhaps,

Lady L. Indeed, my dear, I fear it is. Give for my own peace, 'twere better I had never me leave to ask one question. In all our mu- been acquainted with ; but I had not sufficient lual course of happiness, have I ever yet de-time to lay my heart open to you. ceived you with a falsehood ?

Dr. C. Whitber, madam, would you lead me? Sir J. Never.

Lady L. I have been uneasy too, not knowLady L. Would you then believe me,ing how far you might mistake my behaviour should I accuse him even of crimes which on the last accident that happened, but I was virtue blushes but to mention ?

really so shocked, so terrified, I knew not Sir J. To what extravagance would you what I was doing: only, had I joined in your drive me!

defence against the colonel, it would have been Lady L. I would before have undeceived evident that I was his enemy, and I have uses you, when his late artifice turned the honest for his friendship. Silence, therefore, was my duty of your son into his own reproach and own prudent part: and I knew your credit ruin; but, knowing then your temper was with sir John needed no support. inaccessible, I durst not offer it.

Dr. C. Let me presume then to hope, that pose I should be able to let you see bis vil- what I did, you judge was self-defence and lany, make him repeat his odious love to me pure necessity. in your own bearing, at once throw off the

Lady L. And perhaps, after all, the accident mask, and show the barefaced traitor? was lucky; for sir John, in order to obviate Sir J. Is it possible?

any ill constructions that may be put upon it, Lady L. Bui then, sir, I must prevail on insists now that we should be more together, you to descend to the poor shifts we are re- to let the world see his confidence in us both. duced to.

This relieves us from restraint; and I now dare Sir J. All; to any thing, to ease me of tell you—but no-I won'tmy doubts; make me but a witness of this Dr. C.But why, madam? let me beseech you

But sup,



Lady L. No—besides-what need you ask of all my follies, which is it tells you, that if

you stay much longer, I shall not be tempted Dr. C. Ah! do not endeavour to decoy my to wrest you out of the hands of the law, and foolish heart, too apt to flatter itself. You can- punish you as you deserve? not sure think kindly of me!

Dr. Ć. Well; but first let me ask you, sir, Lady L. Well, well, I would have you who is it you menace ? consider your own imagine so.

condition, and where you are? Dr. C. Besides, may I not with reason sus- Sir J. What would the villain drive at? pect, that this apparent goodness is but arti- leave me. I forgive you: but once more I tell hce; a shadow of compliance, meant only to you, seek some other place; out of my house. persuade me from your daughter.

This instant be gone, and see my shameful Lady L. Metbinks, this doubt of me seems face no more. rather founded on your settled resolution not Dr. C. Nay, then, 'tis my duty to exert mylo resign her.-I am convinced of it. I can self, and let you know thai I am master here. assure you, sir, I should have saved you this Turn you out, sir; this house is mine; and trouble, had I known how deeply you were now, sir, at your peril, dare lo insult me. engaged to her.

Sir J. O heavens! 'tis true: whither shall I Dr. C. Tears—then I must believe you— fly to hide me from the world? but indeed you wrong me.

To prove my in- Lady L. Whither are you going, sir ? nocence, it is not an hour since I pressed sir Sir J. I know not-but here it seems I am John to give Charlotte to young Darnley. a trespasser--the master of the house has warned

Lady L. Mere artifice. You knew that modest me hence-and, since the right is now in him, resignation would make sir John warmer in 'tis just I should resign it. your interest.

Lady L. You shall not stir. He dares not Dr. C. No, indeed, indeed. I had other act with such abandoned insolence. No, sir, motives, which you may hereafter be made possession still is yours. Ifhe pretends a right, acquainted with, and will convince you – let him by open course of law maintain it. Lady L. Well, sir, now I'll give you reason

Dr. C. Ha! Here! Seyward! Erit. guess the reason why, at our last meeting, I pressed you so warmly to resign Charlotte. Enter Old Lady Lambert and Mawworm. Dr. C. Ah dear! ah dear!

Sir J. Who is this fellow? what do you Lady L. You cannot blame me for having want, man? opposed your happiness, when my own, per- Maw. Niy lady, come up: haps, depended upon it.

Old Lady L. How now! Dr. C. Spare me, spare me; you kill me Maw, ile wants to know who I be. with this kindness.

Old Lady L. The gentleman is a friend of Lady L. But now that I have discovered my mine, son. I was carrying him in a coach to weakness, be secret; for the least imprudence attend a controversy ihal's to be held this Dr. C. It is a vain fear.

evening, at the Rev. Mr. Scruple's, about an Lady L. Call it not vain; my reputation is affair of simony; and called to take up the dearer to me than life.

doctor. But what strange tales are these I Dr. C. Where can it find so sure a guard? hear below? The grave austerities of my life will dumb- Sir J. The doctor's a villain, madam; I hare found suspicion, and yours may defy detraction. detected bim; detected him in the horrible deLady L. Well, doctor, 'tis you must answer sign of seducing my wife. for my folly.

Maw. It's unpossible. Dr. C. I take it all upon myself.

Sir What do you say, man? Lady L. But there's one thing still to be Maw. I say, it's unpossible. He has been afraid of.



wite for hours together, Dr. C. Nothing, nothing.

morning, noon, and night, and I never found Lady L. My husband, sir John.

her the worse for him. Dr. C. Alas, pvor man! I will answer for Old Lady L. Ah, son! son! bim. Between ourselves, madam, your husband Sir. J. What is your ladyship going to is weak; I can lead him by the nose any. where. say

now? Sir J. [Comes forward.] No, caitiff, I'm Old Lady L. The doctor is not in fault. to be led no further.

Sir J. “Slife,') madam! Dr. C. Ah! woman.

Old Lady L. Oh, he swears! he swears! Sir J. Is this your sanctity? this your doc- years in growing, good, we become profligate trine? these your meditations?

in a moment. If you swear again, I wor't Dr. C. Is then my brother in a conspiracy stay in the house. against me?

Maw. Nor I neither; aren't you ashamed of Sir J. Your brother! I have been your friend, yourself? have you no commenseration) on indeed, to my shame; your dupe; but your your poor soul?--Ah! poor wicked sinner! I spell has lost its hold: no more canting; it pity you. will not serve your turn any longer.

Sir J. Sdeath! and the devil! Lady L. Now, heaven be praised.

Maw. If you swear any more, I'll inform Dr. C. It seems you wanted an excuse to against you. part with me.

Sir. I. Why would you bring this idiot, Sir J. Ungrateful wretch! but why do I madam? reproach you! Had I not been the weakest of Maw. Ay, do despise me, I'm the prouder mankind, you never could have proved so great for it; I likes to be despised. a villain. Get out of my sight; leave my house: 1) God's life. 2) Commiseratinn.


Tip. Yes, sir, for a cheat and impostor. Char. Oh dear papa, I shall faint away; old Lady L. What does he say? there's murder doing.

Sir J. Dear son, what is this? Sir J. Who! when! what is it?

Col. L. Only some action of the doctor's, Char. The doctor, sir, and Seyward, were sir, which I have affidavits in ny hand here at high words just now in the garden; and, to prove, from more than one creditable witupon a sudden, there was a pistol fired be- ness;, and I think it my duty to make the pub!ween them. Oh! I'm afraid poor Seyward lic acquainted with: if he can acquit himself is killed.

of them, so; if not, he must take the consequence. Sir J. How?

Dr. C. Well, but stay ; let the accusations Char. Oh, there he comes himself; he'll tell against me be what they will, by virtue of this you more.

conveyance I am still master here; and if I

am forced to leave the house myself, I will Enter CantweLL, DARNLEY, SexwARD, and shut up the doors-nobody shall remain behind. Servanls.

Sir J. There! there! indeed, he stings me Darn. Here, bring in this ruffian; this is to the heart! for that rash act, reproach and villany beyond example.

endless shrame will haunt me! Sir J. What means this outrage?

Char. No, sir!-be comforted. -- Even there Lady L. I tremble.

too his wicked hopes must leave him; for know, Sey. Don't be alarmed, madam—there is no the fatal deed which you intended to sign is mischief done: what was intended, the doctor here, even yet unsealed and innocent! here can best inform you.

Sír J. What mean you ? Sir J. Mr. Darnley, I am ashamed to see you. Char. I mean, sir, that this deed by accident

Maw. So you ought: but this good man is falling into this gentleman's hands, his generous ashamed of nothing.

concern for our family discovered it to me; Dr. C. Alas! my enemies prevail. and that in concert we procured that other to

Sey. In short, gentlemen, the affair is cir- be drawn exactly like it; which, in your imcumstantially this—The doctor called me out patience to execute, passed unsuspected for the into the pavilion in the garden; appeared in original. Their only chifference is, that whergreat disorder; told me here was a sudden ever here you read the doctor's name, there storm raised, which he was not sufficiently you'll find my brother's. prepared to weather. He said, his dependance Dr. C. Come, sir; lead me where you please. was upon me; and at all events, I must be


. ready to swear, when he called upon me, I Col. L. Secure your prisoner. had seen him


sir John several large sums Old Lady L. I don't know what to make of money. He talked confusedly about giving of all this. value for an estate ; but I boldly, refused to Maw. They'll all go to the devil for what perjure myself; and told him, on the contrary, they are doing—Come away, my lady, and let I was satisfied he had fleeced sir John of se-us see after the good dear doctor. Ay, do veral large sums, under pretence of charitable laugh, you'll go to the devil for all that.uses, which he secretly converted to his own. Come, my lady, you go first. - This stung him, and he fastened at my throat. [Exeunt Mawworm and old Lady Then, indeed, all temper left me; and, disen

Lambert. gaging myself from his hold, with a home- Char. Now, Darnley, I hope I have made blow, 'I struck him down. At this, grown des- atonement for your jealousy. perate, he ran with fury to some pistols that Darn. You've banished it for ever! this was

! hung about the chimney: but in the instant be beyond yourself surprising. reached one, I seized upon his wrist; and as Col. L. Sister we grappled, the pistol," firing to the ceiling, Char. Come, no set specches; if I deserve alarmed the family.

your thanks, return them in friendship to your Old Lady L. This is a lie, young man; I first preserver. see the devil standing at your elbow.

Col. L. The business of my life shall be to Maw. So do I, with a great big pitchfork, merit it. pushing bim on.

Sey. And.mine, to speak my sense of obDr. C. Well, what have you more against me? ligations.

Durn. More, sir, I hope is needless—but is Sir J. Oh, my child! for my deliverance I sir John is yet unsatisfied.

can only reward you herc.—For you, my son, Sir J. Oh! I have seen too much. whose filial virtue I have injured, this honest Dr. C. I demand my liberty:

deed shall in every article he ratified.- And Sir J. Let him go.

for the sake of that hypocritical villain, 'I de

clare, that from benceforward I renounce all Enter Colonel Lambert and Altendants. (pious folks; I will have an utter abhorrence

Col. L. Hold, sir! not so fast; you can't pass. for every thing that bears the appearance, Dr. C. Who, sir, shall dare to stop me? Char. Nay now, my dear sir, I must take Col. L. Witbin there!

the liberty to tell you, you go from one ex

treme to another. – What, because a worthless Enter Tipstaff.

wretch has imposed upon you, under the fal, Tip. Is your name Cantwell, sir? lacious show of austere grimace, will you needs Dr. C. What if it be, sir?

have it every body is like him, confound the Tip. Then, sir, I have my lord' chief justice's good with the bad, and conclude there are no warrant against you.

truly religious in the world ? - Leave, my dear Dr. C. Against me?

sir, such rash consequences to fools and liber

tines. Let us be careful to distinguish between character in life, greater or more valuable than virtue and the appearance of it. Guard if pos- that of the truly devout-nor any thing more sible against doing honour to hypocrisy-But, noble or more beautiful, than the fervor of a at the same time, let us allow there is no sincere piety.


SUSANNA CENTLIVRE. This lady was daughter of one Mr. Freeman, of Holbeach, in Lincolnshire. It is not decided whether she was bora in Ireland or England; but it must have been in the year 1680. Be it as it may, we find her left ļo the wide Forld, by the death of her parents, before she had completed her twelfth year. There is a romantie story told of her having been met on her journey to London ou foot, whither she went to avoid the tyranny of her stepmother, by a young gentleman from the university of Cambridge, (the afterwards well-known Anthony Isammoud), who was so extremely struck with her youth and heauly, and so affected with the distress which her circumstances naturally declued is let countenance, that he fell instantly in love with her; and, inquiring into the particulars of her story:

500n prevailed on her inexperienced innocence to seize on the protection ho offered her, and go with him to Cambridge, wliere, equipping her in boy's clothes, he introduced her to his intimales at college as a relation , who was come down to se the university, and pass some time with him there. If this story is true, it must have happened when she was extreme) ly young; Whincop, as well as the other writers, acknowledging that she was married in her sixteentli year, la u phew of Sir Stephen Fox. But that gentleman not living with her above a twelve month, her wit and beauly so proeared her a second husband, whose name was Carrol, and who was an officer in the army; but he having the puid, ferline to be killed in a duel, within about a year and a half after their marriage, she became a second time a v such an allachment she seems to have had to the theatre, that she even became herself a performer in 1706 ar make forming the part of Alexander the Great, in Lee's Rival Queens, at Windsor, where the court then was, she » the heart of one Mr. Joseph Centlivre, yeoman of the moulli to Her Majesty, who soon married her; and after several years happily togeiher, she died at his house in Spring-Gardens, Charing Cross, on the first of Decembe el so - That Mrs. Centlivre was perfectly acquainted with life, and closely read the minds and manners of mankind, n He think, can doubt who reads her comedies; but whal appears to us the most extraordinary is, when we conside you history, the disadvantages she must have laboured under, by being so early left to bustle with the world, and that the education she could have had, must have been owing to her own application and assidnity; when, we say, consider her as an absolutely self-cultivated genius, it is astonishing to find the traces of so much reading and learning as we meet with in many of her pieces ; since, for the drawing of the various characters she has presented us will, sho must have perfectly well understood the French, Dutch, and Spanish languages, all the provincial dialects of lier owl, and somewhat even of the Latin, since all these she occasionally makes use of, and whenever slıc does so, it is constantly with the ulmust propriely and the greatest accuracy.


Was produced at Lincoln's-inn Fields in the year 1718. Mrs. Centlivre was indebted to Mr. Molley for two scenes of this comedy. Notwithstanding this piece has been accused by some for its numerous violations of all rule, nature, or probability, the business is so extremely active, in the course of the whole, that we are not stopped by ennui at any cae scene of the play; but laughingly get on to the very end. It does not very materially tend to correct any particular vice; but seems to invite us for once tu lay aside all vur gravity, and open our hearts to playful gaicly and cheerfulness.







Scene. – A Tavern.

Coachman, etc.


Col. F. Why, faith 2), Freeman, there is SCENE I.-Colonel Feinwell and Freeman something in't: I have seen a lady at Bath, who

are discovered over a Bottle. has kindled such a flame in me, that all the Free. Come, colonel, his majesty's health.— waters there can't quench, You are as melancholy' as if you were in love! Free. Is she not to be had, colonel? I wish some of the beauties' of Bath ?) han't Col. F. That's a difficult question to answer; snapt your heart

however, I resolve to try; perhaps you may 1) The seasuns, in England, are generally managed by the be able to serve me; you merchants know

great people, so as to produce their dillerent pleasures: one another.-The lady told me herself she for instance, London is overflowing in the Spring, till the month of June; then all the families whirl off to

was under the charge of four persons. Brighton, Weymouth, or other watering-places till the Free. Odso!5) 'tis miss Ann Lovely, Summer is passed. In autumn the gentlemen shout away Cot. F. The same-do you know her? their time at their country-seals, while their ladies

Free. Know her! ay—'Faith, colonel, your are employed yawning over the last novels, rusticating ; Winter comes to enliven them once more and then condition is more desperate than you imagine: the quiet good-natured people of Bath, are pestered why, she is the talk and pity of the whole with their routing and disturbance, tile the Spring sends them off to London again. This, of course, means

2) in faith.
3) From God.

in War-tine.

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