have done exemplary justice, in punishing an inhuman father, and rewarding a faithful lover: but there is a third good work, which I, in particular, must thank you for: I was an infidel to your sex, and you have converted me-for now I am convinced, that all women are not, like for tune, blind in bestowing favours, either on those who do not merit, or who do not want them. Ang. It is an unreasonable accusation, that you lay upon our sex. You tax us with injustice, only to cover your own want of merit. You would all have the reward of love; but few have SIR HARRY WILDAIR, a gay man of fashion. COLONEL STANDARD, attached to Lady Lurewell. DICKY, a pimp. WOMEN. ANGELICA, attached to Sir Harry Wildair. LADY DARLING, mother to Angelica. PARLY, servant to Lady Lurewell. VIZARD, a hypocrite, pretending to Lady Lure- LADY LUREWELL, an artful coquette. well. Enter VIZARD with a letter, his servant follow ing. letter, like yourself, fair on the outside, and foul within; so sent it back unopened. Viz. May obstinacy guard her beauty till wrinkles bury it! then, may desire prevail to make Viz. ANGELICA send it back unopened! say her curse that untimely pride her disappointed you? Ser. As you see, sir. Viz. The pride of these virtuous women is more insufferable than the immodesty of prostitutes-After all my encouragement, to slight me thus! Ser. She said, sir, that imagining your morals sincere, she gave you access to her conversation; but that your late behaviour in her company has convinced her that your love and your religion are both hypocrisy, and that she believes your age repents! I'll be revenged the very first opportunity -Saw you the old lady Darling, her mother? Ser. Yes, sir, and she was pleased to say much in your commendation. Viz. That's my cue- -An esteem grafted in old age is hardly rooted out; years stiffen their opinions with their bodies, and old zeal is only to be cozened by young hypocrisy. [Aside.] Run to the lady Lurewell's, and know of her maid whether her ladyship will be at home this even ing. Her beauty is sufficient cure for Angeli- | There are five and thirty strapping officers gone this morning to live upon free quarters in the city. ca's scorn. [Exit servant. VIZARD pulls out a book, Enter SMUGgler. Smug. Ay, there's a pattern for the young men o'the times! at his meditation so early! some book of pious ejaculations, I'm sure. Viz. This Hobbes is an excellent fellow ![Aside.] Oh, uncle Smuggler! To find you at this end o' the town is a miracle. Smug. I have seen a miracle this morning, indeed, cousin Vizard. Viz. What is it, pray, sir? Smug. A man at his devotion so near the court- -I'm very glad, boy, that you keep your sanctity untainted in this infectious place; the very air of this park is heathenish, and every man's breath I meet scents of atheism. Viz. Surely, sir, some great concern must bring you to this unsanctified end of the town. Smug. A very unsanctified concern truly, cousin. Viz. What is it? Smug. Oh, lord! Oh, lord! I shall have a son within these nine months born with a leading staff in his hand.-Sir, you are Stand. What, sir? Smug. Sir, I say that you are- Smug. Disbanded, sir, that's all- -I see the Stand. What! a soldier stay here, to look like an old pair of colours in Westminster Hall, ragged and rusty! No, no- -I met yesterday a broken lieutenant; he was ashamed to own that he wanted a dinner, but begged eighteenpence of me to buy a new scabbard for his sword. Viz. Oh, but you have good friends, colonel! Stand. Oh, very good friends! My father's a lord, and my elder brother a beau; mighty good friends, indeed! Viz. But your country may perhaps want your sword again. Smug. A law-suit, boy- -Shall I tell you? -My ship, the Swan, is newly arrived from St Sebastian, laden with Portugal wines: now, the impudent rogue of a tide-waiter has the face to affirm it is French wines in Spanish casks, and has indicted me upon the statute-Oh, con- Stand. Nay, for that matter, let but a single science! conscience! these tide-waiters and sur-drum beat up for volunteers between Ludgate veyors plague us more with their French wines, and Charing-Cross, and I shall undoubtedly hear than the war did with French privateers- it at the walls of Buda. Ay, there's another plague of the nationEnter COLONEL STANDARD. Stand. This very morning, in Hyde-Park, my brave regiment, a thousand men, that looked like lions yesterday, were scattered, and looked as poor and simple as the herd of deer that grazed beside them. Smug. Tal, al, deral. [Singing.]I'll have a bonfire this night as high as the monument. Viz. Come, come, colonel, there are ways of making your fortune at home--Make your addresses to the fair; you're a man of honour and courage. Stand. Ay, my courage is like to do me wondrous service with the fair. This pretty cross cut over my eye will attract a duchess-I warrant 'twill be a mighty grace to my oglingHad I used the stratagem of a certain brother colonel of mine, I might succeed. Viz. What was it, pray? Stand. Why, to save his pretty face for the women, he always turned his back upon the enemy.- -He was a man of honour for the ladies. Viz. Come, come, the loves of Mars and Venus will never fail; you must get a mistress. Stand. Prithee, no more on't-You have awa Stand. A bonfire! Thou dry, withered, ill-| nature! had not those brave fellows' swords de-kened a thought, from which, and the kingdom, I fended you, your house had been a bonfire ere would have stolen away at once.-To be plain, I this about your ears.--Did we not venture our have a mistress. lives, sir? Smug. And did we not pay for your lives, sir? Venture your lives! I'm sure we ventured our money, and that's life and soul to me.-Sir, we'll maintain you no longer. Stand. Then your wives shall, old Actæon. Viz. And she's cruel? Viz. Her parents prevent your happiness? Viz. Then she has no fortune? Stand. A large one. Beauty to tempt all man kind, and virtue to beat off their assaults. Oh, noblest ball at the Bath, or had the finest coach Vizard! such a creature! Viz. Why not? Dost think bravery and gaiety are inconsistent? He's a gentleman of most happy circumstances, born to a plentiful estate; has had a genteel and easy education, free from the rigidness of teachers, and pedantry of schools. His florid constitution, being never ruffled by misfortune, nor stinted in its pleasures, has rendered him entertaining to others, and easy to himself: turning all passion into gaiety of humour, by which he chooses rather to rejoice with his friends, than be hated by any, as you shall see. Re-enter WILDAIR. Wild. Ha, Vizard! Viz. Sir Harry! Wild. Who thought to find you out of the Rubric so long; I thought thy hypocrisy had been wedded to a pulpit-cushion long ago.-Sir, if I mistake not your face, your name is Standard? Stand. Sir Harry, I'm your humble servant. Wild. Come, gentlemen, the news, the news o' the town, for I'm just arrived. Viz. Why, in the city-end o' the town, we're playing the knave, to get estates. Stand. And in the court-end playing the fool, in spending them. Wild. Just so in Paris. I'm glad we're grown so modish. Viz. And hypocrisy for religion. Viz. Not one whore between Ludgate and Aldgate. Stand. But ten times more cuckolds than ever. Viz. Nothing like an oath in the city. Stand. That's a mistake; for my major swore a hundred and fifty last night to a merchant's wife in her bed-chamber, Wild. Pshaw! this is trifling; tell me news, gentlemen. What lord has lately broke his fortune at the Groom-Porter's? or his heart at Newmarket, for the loss of a race? What wife has been lately suing in Doctor's-Commons for alimony; or what daughter run away with her father's valet? What beau gave the in the ring? I want news, gentlemen. Stand. Faith, sir, these are no news at all. Viz. But pray, sır Harry, tell us some news of your travels. Wild. With all my heart.-You must know, then, I went over to Amsterdam in a Dutch ship: I there had a Dutch whore for five stivers. I went from thence to Landen, where I was heartily drubbed in the battle with the butt-end of a Swiss musket. I thence went to Paris, where I had half a dozen intrigues, bought half a dozen new suits, fought a couple of duels, and here I am again in statu Viz. You, colonel, have been very lavish in the beauty and virtue of your mistress; and sir Harry, here, has been no less eloquent in the praise of his. Now, will I lay you both ten guineas a piece, that neither of them is so pretty, so witty, or so virtuous, as mine. Stand. 'Tis done. Wild. I'll double the stakes-But, gentlemen, now I think on it, how shall we be resolved?———— For I know not where my mistress may be found; she left Paris about a month before me, and I had an account Stand. How, sir! left Paris about a month before you ? Wild. Yes, sir, and I had an account that she lodged somewhere in St James's. Viz. How! somewhere in St James, say you? Wild. Aye, sir, but I know not where, and perhaps mayn't find her this fortninght. Stand. Her name, pray, sir Harry. Viz. Aye, aye, her name; perhaps, we know her. Wild. Her name! Ay; she has the softest, whitest hand that e'er was made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet Stand. But her name, sir. Wild. Then her neck and breast; her breasts do so heave, so heave. [Singing. Viz. But her name, sir; her quality. Wild. Then her shape, colonel! Wild. Then her eyes, Vizard! Viz. Pshaw, sir Harry, her name, or nothing, man? Viz. Find her! but then her foot, sir Harry; she dances to a miracle. Wild. Prithee, don't distract me. Viz. Well, then, you must know, that this lady is the greatest beauty in town; her name's Angelica: she that passes for her mother is a private bawd, and called the lady Darling; she goes for a baronet's lady, (no disparagement to your honour, sir Harry) I assure you. Wild. Pshaw, hang my honour; but what Wild. Prithee, Dick, what makes the colonel street, what house? so out of humour? Viz. Because he's out of pay, I suppose. Wild. 'Slife, that's true; I was beginning to mistrust some rivalship in the case. Viz. And suppose there were; you know the colonel can fight, sir Harry. Wild. Fight! Pshaw-but he cannot dance, ha! We contend for a woman, Vizard. 'Slife, man, if ladies were to be gained by sword and pistol only, what the devil should all we beaus do? Viz. I'll try him farther. [Aside.] But would not you, sir Harry, fight for this woman you so much admire? Wild. Fight! Let me consider. I love her that's true; but, then, I love honest sir Harry Wildair better. The lady Lurewell is divinely charming-right-but, then, a thrust i' the guts, or a Middlesex jury, is as ugly as the devil. Viz. Aye, sir Harry, 'twere a dangerous cast for a beau-baronet to be tried by a parcel of greasy, grumbling, bartering boobies, who would hang you, purely because you're a gentleman. Viz. Not so fast, sir Harry; you must have my passport for your admittance, and you'll find my recommendation in a line or two will procure you very civil entertainment; I suppose twenty or thirty pieces, handsomely placed, will gain the point: I'll ensure her sound. Wild. Thou dearest friend to a man in necessity! Here, sirrah, order my coach about to St James's; I'll walk across the park. [To his servant. Enter CLINCHER, senior. Clin. Here, sirrah, order my coach about to St James's; I'll walk across the Park, too-Mr Vizard, your most devoted-Sir, [To WILDAIR.] I admire the mode of your shoulder-knot; methinks it hangs very emphatically, and carries an air of travel in it; your sword-knot, too, is most ornamentally modish, and bears a foreign mien. Gentlemen, my brother is just arrived in town; so that, being upon the wing to kiss his hands, Í hope you will pardon this abrupt departure of, gentlemen, your most devoted, and most faithful humble servant. [Exit CLINCHER, Wild. Aye, but, on t'other hand, I have money enough to bribe the rogues with: so, upon ma- Wild. Prithee, dost know him? ture deliberation, I would fight for her. But no Viz. Know him! why, it is Clincher, who was inore of her. Prithee, Vizard, cannot you re-apprentice to my uncle Smuggler, the merchant commend a friend to a pretty mistress by the in the city. bye, till I can find my own? You have store, I am sure; you cunning poaching dogs make surer game, than we that hunt open and fair. Prithee now, good Vizard. Viz. Let me consider a little. Now, love and revenge inspire my politics. [Aside. [Pauses, whilst SIR HARRY walks singing. Wild. What makes him so gay? Viz. Why, he's in mourning. Viz. Yes, for his father. The kind old man in Hertfordshire t'other day broke his neck a fox-hunting; the son upon the news has broke his indentures; whipped from behind the corner |