6 Mrs Bell. Will be happy; I know that is what ladyship's most obedient-[Curtsying.] We exyou are going to say. But he must do homage for it: and then I will let it to none but a single gentleman. Do you know any body whom these conditions will suit? Love. Those conditions, ma'am [Aside.] What the devil does she mean? I am not detected, I hope?-To be sure, ma'am, those conditions-And-none but single gentlemen will pre sume to pected you last night, but you did not come.--He, he, he!—and so there was sir George and 'the rest of us; and so, turning the corner of Bond-street, the brute of a coachman-I humbly thank your grace [Curtsies.]—the brute of a coachinan overturned us, and so my aunt ' Roly-Poly was frightened out of her wits; and lady Betty has had her nerves again. Only 'think! such accidents!-I am glad to see you Mrs Bell. And then it must be a lease for life.look so well; a l'honneur;' he, he, he! But that will never do; nobody will be troubled with it. I shall never get it off iny hands; do you think I shall, my lord? Love. Ho, ho! you paint to the life. I see her moving before me in all her airs. Love. There must be very little taste left, if you have not a number of bidders. You know the ambition of my heart; you know I am devoted to you, upon any terms, even though it were to he bought with life. Mrs Bell. Heavens! what a dying swain you are! And does your lordship mean to be guilty of matrimony? Lord! what a question have I asked! To be sure, I am the giddiest creature. My lord, don't you think me a strange madcap? Love. A vein of wit, like yours, that springs at once from vivacity and sentiment, serves to exalt your beauty, and give animation to every charm. Mrs Bel. Upon my word, you have said it finely! But you are in the right, my lord. Your pensive melancholy beauty is the most insipid thing in nature. And yet, we often see features without a mind; and the owner of them sits in the room with you, like a mere vegetable, for an hour together, till, at last, she is incited to the violent exertion of, Yes, sir'-'I fancy not, ma'am,' and then a matter of fact conversation! Miss Beverly is going to be married to Captain "Shoulder-knot-My lord Mortgage has had an' other tumble at hazard-Sir Harry Wilding has lost his election―They say short aprons are coming into fashion.' 6 Mrs Bel. With this conversation their whole stock is exhausted, and away they run to cards. Quadrille has murdered wit! Love. Ay, and beauty, too. Cards are the worst enemies to a complexion: the small pox is not so bad. The passions throw themselves into every feature: I have seen the countenance of an angel changed, in a moment, to absolute deformity: the little loves and graces that sparkled in the eye, bloomed in the cheek, and smiled about the mouth, all wing their flight, and leave the face, which they before adorned, a prey to grief, to anger, malice, and fury, and the whole train of fretful passions. Mrs Bel. And the language of the passions is sometimes heard upon those occasions. Love. Very true, madam; and if, by chance, they do bridle and hold in a little, the struggle they undergo is the most ridiculous sight in nature. I have seen a huge oath quivering on the pale lip of a reigning toast for half an hour together, and an uplifted eye accusing the gods for the loss of an odd trick. And then, at last, the whole room in a babel of sounds. My lord, you flung away the game.-Sir George, why did not you rough the spade?-Captain Hazard, why 'did not you lead through the honours? Madam, 'it was not the play-Pardon me, sir-but madam Love. Oh! a matter of fact conversation is in--but sir-I would not play with you for straws; supportable. 'don't you know what Hoyle says?—If A and Mrs Bel. But you meet with nothing else. All B are partners against C and D, and the game in great spirits about nothing, and not an idea nine all, A and B have won three tricks, and among them. Go to Ranelagh, or to what pub-C and D four tricks: C leads his suit, D puts lic place you will, it is just the same. A lady up the king, then returns the suit; A passes, comes up to you;- How charmingly you look! C puts up the queen, and B trumps it;' and so -But, my dear m'em, did you hear what hap-A and B, and C and D are bandied about; they pened to us the other night? We were going attack, they defend, and all is jargon and confu'home from the opera—you know my aunt Roly- sion, wrangling, noise, and nonsense; and high Poly? it was her coach. There was she and life, and polite conversation.- -Ha! ha! ha! lady Betty Fidget-What a sweet blonde! How 'do you do, my dear? [Curtsying as to another going by. My lady Betty is quite recovered; we were all frightened about her; but doctor Snake-root was called in; no, not doctor Snakeroot, Doctor Bolus; and so he altered the 'course of the medicines, and so my lady Betty 'is purely now.-Well, there was she, and my 'aunt, and sir George Bragwell-a pretty man 'sir George !—finest teeth in the world!-Your VOL. II. Mrs Bel. Ha! ha! the pencil of Hogarth could not do it better. And yet one is dragged to these places. One must play sometimes. We must let our friends pick our pockets now and then, or they drop our acquaintance. Do you ever play, my lord? Love. Play, ma'am?--[Aside.] What does she mean? I must play the hypocrite to the end of the chapter.Play?-Now and then, as you say, one must, to oblige, and from necessity; 4 Z. but from taste, or inclination, no; I never touch | one would almost swear that you have a wife at a card. home who sat for the picture. Mrs Bel. Oh! very true; I forgot. You de- Love. Madam, the-[Embarrassed.] The com dicate your time to the Muses; a downright pliment-you are only laughing at me-the subrhyming peer. Do you know, my lord, that Iject, from every day's experience-[Aside.] Does am charmed with your song? Love. Are you? she suspect me?-the subject is common-Bachelor's wives, you know-ha! ha!--And when Mrs Bel. Absolutely; and I really think you you inspire the thought; when you are the bright would make an admirable Vauxhall poet. Love. Nay, now you flatter me. Mrs Bel. No, as I live; it is very pretty. And do you know that I can sing it already? Come, you shall hear how I murder it. I have no voice to-day, but you shall hear me. [Sings. Attend, all ye fair, and I'll tell you the art, And banish from Hymen his doubts and his When Juno was decked with the cestus of Love, At first she was handsome; she charming be came : With skill the soft passions it taught her to move, To kindle at once, and to keep up the flame. 'Tis this gives the eyes all their magic and fire, The voice-melting accents; impassions the kiss; Confers the sweet smile, that awakens desire, And plants round the fair each incentive to bliss. Thence flows the gay chat, more than reason that charms; The eloquent blush, that can beauty improve; The fond sigh, the fond vow, the soft touch that alarms; The tender disdain, the renewal of love. Ye fair, take the cestus, and practise its power: The mind unaccomplished, mere features are vain ; With wit, with good humour, enliven each hour, And the loves, and the graces, shall walk in your train. It grows Love. My poetry is infinitely obliged to you. into sense as you sing it. Your voice, like the cestus of Venus, bestows a grace upon every thing. Mrs Bel. Oh! fulsome; I sing horridly. [Goes to the glass.] How do I look ?-Don't tell me, my lord: you are studying a compliment, but I am resolved to mortify you; I won't hear it.Well! have you thought of any thing? Let it pass; 'tis too late now. Pray, my lord, how came you to choose so grave a subject as connubial happiness? Love. Close and particular that question! [Aside. Mrs Bel. Juno! Hymen doubts and pains! original, it is no wonder that the copy Mrs Bel. Horrid! going to harp on the old string. Odious solicitations! I hate all proposals. I am not in the humour. You must release me now: your visit is rather long. I have indulged you a great while. And, besides, were I to listen to your vows, what would become of poor sir Brilliant Fashion? Love. Sir Brilliant Fashion? Love. I know whom you mean. I have seen him; but that's all. He lives with a strange set, and does not move in my sphere. If he is a friend of yours, I have no more to say. Mrs Bel. Is there any thing to say against him? Love. Nay, I have no knowledge of the gen tleman. They who know him best, don't rate him high. A sort of current coin that passes in this town. You will do well to beware of coun terfeits. Enter MIGNIONET, in a violent hurry. Mign. My dear madam, I am frighted out of my senses. The poor lady-Where are the hartshorn drops? Love. The lady! what lady? Mign. Never stand asking what lady. She has fainted away all on a sudden she is now in strong hysterics; give me the drops. Mrs Bel. I must run to her assistance. Adieu, my lord. I shall be at home in the evening. Mignionet, step this way. Your lordship will excuse me: I shall expect to see you. Come, Mignionet; make haste, make haste. [Exit with MIGNIONET. Love. I hope the lady has not overheard me? What a villain am I to carry on this scheme against so much beauty, innocence, and merit! And to wear this badge of honour for the darkest purposes! And, then, my friend, sir Brilliant, will it be fair to supplant him? Prithee, be quiet, my dear conscience! none of your meddling !— don't interrupt a gentleman in his pleasures.Don't you know, my good friend, that love has no respect for persons, but soars above all laws of honour and of friendship? No reflection; have her I must, and that quickly, too, or she will discover all. Besides, this is my wife's fault: why does she not make home agreeable? I am willing to be happy; I could be constant to her, but she is not formed for happiness. What the devil is Madam Fortune about now? | [Sir BRILLIANT sings within.] Sir Brilliant, by all that's infamous! Confusion! no place to hide me? no escape! The door is locked. Mignionet, Mignionet, open the door. Mig. [Within.] You must not come in here. Love. What shall I do? This star, and this ribbon will bring me to disgrace. Away with this tell-tale evidence! [Takes off the ribbon.]Go, thou blushing devil, and hide thyself for [Puts it in his pocket. ever. Enter SIR BRILLIANT, singing. Sir Bril. Mrs Bellmour, I have such a story for you. How! Lovemore? Love. Your slave, sir Brilliant; your slave. [Hiding the star with his hat. Sir Bril. I did not think you had been acquainted here. Love. You are right. I came in quest of you. I saw the lady. I was drawn hither by mere curiosity. We have had some conversation; and I made it subservient to your purposes. I have been giving a great character of you. Sir Bril. You are always at the service of your friends. But what's the matter? what are you fumbling about? [Pulls the hat. Love. 'Sdeath! have a care: don't touch me. [Puts his handkerchief to his breast. Sir Bril. What the devil is the matter? Love. Oh! keep off-[Aside.] Here's a business. Taken in the old way: let me passhave had a fling at lord Etheridge: he will be out of favour with the widow: I have done you that good. Racks and torments, my old complaint! [Wanting to pass him. Sir Bril What complaint? You had better sit down. -I Love. No, no; air, the air. I must have a surgeon. A stroke of a tennis-ball! My lord Rackett's unlucky left-hand. Let me pass.There is something forming here. [Passes him.] To be caught is the devil. [Aside.] Don't mention my name. You will counteract all I have said. Oh! torture, torture! I will explain to you another time. Sir Brilliant, yours: I have served your interest-Oh! there is certainly something forming. [Exit. Sir Bril. What does all this mean? So, so, Mrs Lovemore's suspicions are well-founded. The widow has her private visits, I see. Yes, yes; there is something forming here. I Mrs Love. My spirits were too weak. could not support it any longer; such a scene of perfidy! Mrs Bell. You astonish me! what perfidy? Mrs Love. Perfidy of the blackest dye; I told you that you were acquainted with my husband? Mrs Bel. Acquainted with your husband! [Angrily. Mrs Love. A moment's patience-Yes, madam, you are acquainted with him. The base man, who went hence but now Mrs Bell. Sir Brilliant Fashion? Mrs Love. No; your lord Etheridge, as he calls himself- Mrs Bell. Lord Etheridge? What of him, pray? Mrs Love. False, dissembling man! he is my husband, madam: not lord Etheridge, but plain Mr Lovemore; my Mr Lovemore. Mrs Bel. And has he been base enough to assume a title to ensnare me to my undoing? Mign. [Going.] Well, for certain, I believe the devil's in me: I always thought him a sly one. [Exit. Mrs Love. To see him carrying on this dark, design-to see the man whom I have ever esteemed and loved-the man whom I must still love-esteem him, I fear, I never can—to see him before my face with that artful treachery! it was too much for sensibility like mine; I felt the shock too severely, and I sunk under it. Mrs Bel. I am ready to sink this moment with amazement! I saw him, for the first time, at old Mrs Loveit's. She introduced him to me. The appointment was of her own making. Mrs Love. You know Mrs Loveit's character, I suppose? Mrs Bell. The practised veteran! Could suspect that a woman, in her style of life, would lend herself to a vile stratagem against my honour? That she would join in a conspiracy against her own sex? Mr Lovemore shall never enter these doors again—I am obliged to you, madam, for this visit; to me a providential incident. I am sorry for your share in it. The discovery secures my peace and happiness; to you it is a fatal conviction, a proof unanswerable against the person to whom you are joined for life. Mrs Love. After this discovery, it cannot be for life. I am resolved not to pass another day under his roof. Mrs Bell. Hold, hold! no sudden resolutions. Consider a little: passion is a bad adviser. This may take a turn for your advantage. Mrs Love. That can never be: I am lost beyond redemption. Mrs Bell. Don't decide too rashly. Come, come, the man, who has certain qualities, is worth thinking about, before one throws the hideous thing away for ever. Mr Lovemore is a traitor; but is not he still amiable? And, besides, you have heard his sentiments. That song points at something. Perhaps, you are a little to blame. He did not write upon such a subject, without a cause to suggest it. We will talk over this matter coolly. You have saved me, and I must return the obligation. You shall stay dinner with me. Mrs Love. Excuse me. Mr Lovemore may possibly go home. He shall hear of his guilt, while the sense of it pierces here, and wounds me to the quick. Mrs Bell. Now, there you are wrong: take my advice first. I will lay such a plan as may ensure him yours for ever. Come, come, you must not leave me yet. [Takes her hand.] Answer me one question: don't you still think he has qualities that do, in some sort, apologize for his vices? Mrs Love. I don't know what to think of it: I hope he has. Mrs Bell. Very well, then. I have lost a lover; you may gain one. Your conduct upon this occasion may reform him; and let me tell you, that the man, who has it in his power to atone for his faults, should not be entirely despised. Let the wife exert herself; let her try her powers of pleasing, and, take my word for it, The wild gallant no more abroad will roam, But find his loved variety at home. [Exeunt ACT IV. SCENE I.-An apartment in LOVEMORE'S house. MR and MRS LOVEMORE at table after dinner: servants taking things out of the room. Love. [Filling a glass.] I wonder you are not tired of the same eternal topic. [Sipping his wine. Mrs Love. If I make it an eternal topic, it is for your own good, Mr Lovemore. Love. I know I have your good wishes, and you have mine. All our absent friends, Mrs Lovemore. [Drinks. Mrs Love. If you would but wish well to yourself, sir, I should be happy.But, in the way you go on, your health must be ruined; day is night, and night day; your substance squandered; your constitution destroyed; and your family quite neglected. Love. Family neglected! You see I dined at home, and this is my reward for it. Mrs Love. You dined at home, sir, because something abroad has disconcerted you. You went, I suppose, after I saw you at Lady Constant's, to your old haunt, your friend, Mrs Loveit Love. Mrs Loveit! ha! ha! I dropt her acquaintance long ago. No, my love, I drove into the city, and spent the rest of the morning upou business. I had long accounts to settle with old Discount, the banker. Mrs Love. And that, to be sure, engrossed all your time. Business must be minded. Did you find him at home? Love. It was by his own appointment. I went to his house directly after I parted from you. I have been no where else. Matters of account always fatigue me. Mrs Love. I would not be too inquisitive, sir. Love. Oh, no; you never are. I staid at the banker's the rest of the time; and I came straight from his house to have the pleasure of dining with you. [Fills a glass of wine. Mrs Love. Were there any sincerity in that declaration, I should be happy. A tavern life has hitherto been your delight. I wonder what delight you can find in such an eternal round of gaming, riot, and dissipation. Will you answer ine one question? Love. With great pleasure—[Aside.]—if it is not inconvenient. Mrs Love. Lay your hand on your heart, and tell me- -Have I deserved this usage? Love. My humble service to you, my love. Mrs Love. I am sure I have never been de ficient in any one point of the duty I owe you. You won my heart, and I gave it freely. Love. [going to sleep.] It is very true. Love. [Turns his chair from her.] You reason very- -you reason admirably-admir▬▬ ably-al-waysal-ways-gay-and enter-entertaining[Going to sleep. Mrs Love. Marriage is generally considered as an introduction to the great scene of the world. I thought it a retreat to less noisy and serener pleasures. What is called polite company [He falls fast asleep.] was not my taste. You was lavish in expence; I was, therefore, an economist. From the moment marriage made me yours, the pleasure arising from your company-There! fast asleep! Agreeable company indeed!—This is ever his way. [She rises.] Unfeeling man!It is too plain that I am grown his aversion. Mr Lovemore! [Looking at him.] you little think what a scene this day has brought to light-And yet he hopes with falsehood to varnish and disguise his treachery. How mean the subterfuge! shall I rouse him now, and tax him with his guilt! My heart is too full reproach will only tend to exasperate, and perhaps make him irreconcilable. The pride that can stoop to low and wretched artifice, but ill can brook detection. Let him rest for the present. The widow Bellmour's experiment may answer better-I will try it, at least Oh! Mr Lovemore, you will break my heart! [Looks at him, and exit. Love. [Talking in his sleep.] I do listen-I am not asleep. [Sleeps and nods.] You are very right-always right-I am only thinking a little. No-no-no-Mutters indistinctly.] It was not two o'clock-in bed-in bed by twelveSir Bashful is an oaf-The widow Bellmour[Sleeps, and his head rolls about.]-What's the matter? [Waking.] I beg your pardon; I was beginning to nod. What did you say, my dear? [Leans on the table, without looking about.] One cannot always, you know-[Turns about.] 'Sdeath! she is gone! Oh! fast asleep. This is ever the way when one dines at home. Let me shake it off. [Rises.] What's o'clock ---No amusement in this house; what shall I do? The widow?-I must not venture in that quarter. My evil genius, sir Brilliant, will be busy there. Is any body in the way? I must sally out. My dear Venus, favour your votary this afternoon. -Your best arms employ, All winged with pleasure, and all tipt with joy. [Exit. SCENE II.—Changes to SIR BASHFUL'S. Enter LADY CONSTANT and FURNISH. Lady Con. Who brought this letter? Fur. A servant of Mrs Lovemore's: he waits an answer. Lady Con. My compliments to Mrs Lovemore, and I shall wait upon her. Fur. Yes, madam. [Going. Lady Con. And hark ye, Furnish ?-have the things been carried to sir Brilliant, as I ordered? Fur. I have obeyed your ladyship's commands. The steward went himself. Mr Pounce, your ladyship knows, is a trusty body. You may depend upon his care. 6 6 Lady Con. Go, and send Mrs Lovemore her answer. She may depend upon my being with her in time. [Exit FURNISH.] What can Mrs. Lovemore want? [Reads ]—' Ladyship's company to a card-party; but cards are the least part of my object. I have something of higher moment in view, and the presence of my friends is absolutely necessary.' There is some mystery in this. What does she mean? I shall go, and then the scene will clear up those diamond buckles embarrass me more than Mrs Lovemore's unintelligible letter. Diamond buckles to me! From what quarter? Who could send them? Nobody but sir Brilliant. I am right in my conclusion: they came from him. Who could take the liberty but a person of his cast? A presuming man! But I have mortified his vanity. Before this time, he has found his diamonds thrown back upon his hands, with the disdain which such confidence deserves-But if I have made a mistake!-Oh! no; no danger. Has not sir Brilliant made overtures to me? Has not he declared himself? He sees sir Bashful's behaviour, and his vanity plumes itself upon that circumstance. To give me my revenge against a crazy and insufferable husband, he would fain induce me to ruin myself with a coxcomb. sides, he heard the whole of sir Bashful's dispute about diamonds and trinkets: the thing is clear; it was sir Brilliant sent them; and, by that stratagem, he hopes to bribe me into complianceThat bait will never take; though here comes one, who, I am sure, deserves to be treated without a grain of ceremony. Enter SIR BASHFUL. Be Sir Bash. Here she is. Now, let me see whether she will take any notice of the present I sent her. She has reason to be in good humour, I think-Your servant, madam. Lady Con. Your address is polite, sir. Sir Bash. [Aside.] Still proud and obstinate!Has any thing happened to disturb the harmony of your temper? Lady Con. Considering what little discord you make, it is a wonder that my temper is not always in tune. |