child.

Lady W. Oh! I die if I don't see it before her.
Squire R. Woant you goa, feyther?

Sir F. Waunds, lad, I shall ha' no stomach at this rate!

Mrs. M. Well, madam, though I say it, 'tis the sweetest pattern that ever came over; and, for fineness, no cobweb comes up to it.

Sir F. Ods guts and gizzard, madam! Lace as fine as a cobweb! why, what the devil's that to cost, now? [madamMrs. M. Nay, if Sir Francis does not like it, Lady W. He like it! Dear Mrs. Motherly, he is not to wear it. [pay for it! Sir F. Flesh, madam! but I suppose I am to Lady W. No doubt on't! Think of your thousand a-year, and who got it you; go, eat your dinner, and be thankful, go! Come, Mrs. Motherly. [Exit Lady Wronghead and Mrs. Motherly. Sir F. Very fine! so here I mun fast, till I am almost famished, for the good of my country, while madam is laying me out an hundred pounds a-day, in lace as fine as a cobweb, for the honour of my family! Ods flesh! things had need go well at this rate!

Squire R. Nay, nay; come, feyther.

[Exeunt Sir Francis and Squire Richard. Re-enter MYRTILLA.

Myr. Madam, (to Miss Jenny) my lady desires you and the Count will please to come, and assist her fancy in some of the new laces.

Count B. We'll wait upon herJenny. So, I told you how it was; you see she can't bear to leave us together.

Count B. No matter, my dear; you know she has asked me to stay supper: so, when your papa and she are a-bed, Mrs. Myrtilla will let me into the house again; then you may steal into her chamber and we'll have a little talk together.

Myr. Ay, ay, madam, you may command me in anything.

Jenny. Well, that will be pure!

Count B. But you had best go to her alone, my life; it will look better if I come after you.

Jenny. Ay, so it will: and to-morrow, you know, at the masquerade: O dear, dear! I wish the time [Exit.

were come.

Myr. So, sir, am not I very commode to you? Count B. Well, child, and don't you find your account in it? Did I not tell you we might still be of use to one another?

Myr. Well, but how stands your affair with miss, in the main?

Count B. Oh, she's mad for the masquerade! It drives like a nail; we want nothing now but a parson to clinch it. Did not your aunt say she could get one at a short warning?

Myr. Yes, yes; my Lord Townly's chaplain is her cousin, you know; he'll do your business and mine at the same time.

Count B. Oh, it's true! but where shall we appoint him?

Myr. Why you know my Lady Townly's house is always open to the masks on a ball night, before they go to the Haymarket.

Count B. Good.

Myr. Now the doctor proposes we should all come thither in our habits, and when the rooms are full, we may steal up into his chamber, he says, and there-crack-he'll give us all canonical commission to go to bed together.

Count B. Admirable! Well, the devil fetch me

Myr. And may he tuck me under his arm at the same time, if I shall not think myself obliged to you as long as I live. But I must run to my squire. Count B. And I to the ladies; so, your humble servant, sweet Mrs. Wronghead! (Bous.)

Myr. Yours as in duty bound, most noble Count Basset. (Curtseys.) [Exit.

Count B. Why, ay! Count! That title has been of some use to me, indeed; not that I have any more pretence to it, than I have to a blue riband. Yet I have made a pretty considerable figure in life with it. I bave lolled in my own chariot, dealt at assemblies, dined with ambassadors, and made one at quadrille with the first women of quality; but, tempora mutantur, since that damned squadron at White's have left me out of their last secret, I am reduced to trade upon my own stock of industry, and if I can snap up Miss Jenny and her eight thousand pounds, I shall once more cut a figure, and cock my hat in the face of the best of them: for, since our modern men of fortune are grown wise enough to be sharpers, I think sharpers are fools that don't take up the airs of men of quality. [Exit.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Lord Townly's House.
Enter WILLIAMS and MANLY.

Wil. Sir Francis Wronghead, sir, desires to see you

Man. Desire Sir Francis to walk in. [Exit Williams.] I suppose by this time his wise worship begins to find that the balance of his journey to London is on the wrong side.

Enter SIR FRANCIS WRONGHEAD.
Sir Francis, your servant. How came I by the
favour of this extraordinary visit?
Sir F. Ah, cousin!

Man. Why that sorrowful face, man?
Sir F. I have no friend alive but you.

Man. I am sorry for that. But what's the matter? Sir F. I have played the fool by this journey, I see now, for my bitter wife

Man. What of her?

Sir F. Is playing the devil.

Man. Why, truly, that's a part that most of your fine ladies begin with as soon as they get to London.

Sir F. If I'm a living man, cousin, she has made away with above two hundred and fifty pounds since yesterday morning. But there's one hundred on't goes more to my heart than all the rest.

Man. And how might that be disposed of?
Sir F. Troth, I am almost ashamed to tell you.
Man. Out with it.

Sir F. Why, she has been at an assembly. Man. What, since I saw you? I thought you had all supped at home last night.

Sir F. Why, so we did; and all as merry as grigs. I'cod, my heart was so open, that I tossed another hundred into her apron, to go out early this morning with. But the cloth was no sooner taken away, than in comes my Lady Townly here, with another rantipole dame of quality, and out they must have her, they said, to introduce her at my Lady Noble's assembly, forsooth. words, you may be sure, made the bargain; so, bawnce! and away they drive, as if the devil had got into the coach-box; so, about four or five in the morning, home comes madam, with her eyes a foot deep in her head, and my poor hundred pounds left behind her at the hazard-table.

Man. All lost at dice!

A few

querade dresses. Count B. So, so; here's your brother and his bride before us, my dear.

Man. Sir, if you stay but a fortnight in this town, you will every day see hundreds as fast upon the gallop as she is.

Sir F. Ah, this London is a base place indeed! Waunds, if things should happen to go wrong with me at westminster, at this rate, how the devil shall I keep out of jaol?

Man. Why, truly, there seems to be but one way to avoid it.

Sir F. Ah, would you could tell me that, cousin! Man. The way lies plain before you, sir; the same road that brought you hither, will carry you safe home again.

Sir F. Ods flesh, cousin! what? and leave a thousand pounds a year behind me!

Man. Pooh, pooh! leave anything behind you but your family, and you are a saver by it.

Sir F. Ay, but consider, cousin, what a scurvy figure I shall make in the country, if I come down withawt it.

Man. You will make a much more lamentable figure in a gaol without it.

Sir F. Mayhap, as you have no great opinion of my journey to London then, cousin?

Man. Sir Francis, to do you the service of a real friend, I must speak very plainly to you: you don't yet see half the ruin that's before you.

Sir F. Good lack! how may you mean, cousin? Man. In one word, your whole affairs stand thus In a week you'll lose your seat at Westminster; in a fortnight my lady will run you into jaol, by keeping the best company; in four-and-twenty hours your daughter will run away with a sharper, because she ha'n't been used to better company; and your son will steal into marriage with a cast mistress, because he has not been used to any company at all.

Sir F. I'the name o'goodness, why should you think all this?

Man. Because I have proof of it; in short, I know so much of their secrets, that if this is not prevented to-night, it will be out of your power to do it to-morrow morning.

Sir F. Waunds! if what you tell me be true, I'll stuff my whole family into a stage-coach, and trundle them into the country again on Monday morning.

Man. Stick to that, sir, and we may yet find a way to redeem all. I hear company entering; you know they see masks here to-day; conceal yourself in this room, and for the truth of what I have told you, take the evidence of your own senses: but be sure you keep close till I give you the signal.

Sir F. Sir, I'll warrant you-Ah, my lady! my Lady Wronghead! what a bitter business have you drawn me into.

Man. Hush! to your post; here comes one couple already. (Sir F. and Man. retires.) Enter SQUIRE RICHARD and MYRTILLA, in masquerade dresses.)

Squire R. What, is this the doctor's chamber?
Myr. Yes, yes; speak softly.
Squire R. Well, but where is he?

Myr. He'll be ready for us presently, but he says he can't do us the good turn without witnesses: so, when the Count and your sister come, you know he and you may be fathers for one another.

Squire R. Well, well, tit for tat! ay, ay, that will Myr. And see, here they come! [be friendly.

Jenny. Well, I vow, my heart's at my mouth still! I thought I should never have got rid of mamma; but while she stood gaping upon the dance, I gave her the slip! Lawd! do but feel how it beats here!

Count B. Oh! the pretty flutterer! I protest, my dear, you have put mine into the same palpitation. Jenny. Ay, you say so, but let's see now. (Puts her hand to his heart.) Oh, lud! I vow it thumps purely. Well, well, I see it will do; and so where's the parson?

Count B. Mrs. Myrtilla, will you be so good as to see if the doctor's ready for us?

Myr. He only staid for you, sir; I'll fetch him immediately. [Exit. Jenny. Pray, sir, am not I to take place of mamma, when I'm a countess?

Count B. No doubt on't, my dear.

Jenny. Oh, lud! how her back will be up then, when she meets me at an assembly; or you and I in our coach and six at Hyde Park together!

Count B. Ay, or when she hears the box-keepers at an opera call out-"The Countess of Basset's servants!"

Jenny. Well, I say it, that will be delicious; And then mayhap to have a fine gentleman, with a star, and a what-'ye-call-um riband, lead me to my chair, with his hat under his arm all the way "Hold up," says the chairman; "and so," says I, "my lord, your humble servant." "I suppose, madam," says he, "we shall see you at my Lady Quadrille's ?" "Ay, ay, to be sure, my lord," says I. So, in swaps me, and away they trot, swing! swang! with my tassels dangling, and my flambeaux blazing! and-Oh! it's a charming thing to be a woman of quality!

Count B. Well! I see that plainly, my dear; there's ne'er a duchess of them all will become an equipage like you.

Jenny. Well, well; do you find equipage, and I'll find airs, I warrant you.

Squire R. Troth! I think this masquerading's the merriest game that ever I saw in my life! Thof, in my mind, and there were but a little wrestling, or cudgel-playing, naw, it would help it hugely. But what a-rope makes the parson stay so?

Count B. Oh! here he comes, I believe.

Enter MYRTILLA, with a Constable. Const. Well, madam, pray which is the party that wants a spice of my office here? [Count.) Myr. That's the gentleman. (Pointing to the Count B. Hey-day! what, in masquerade, dector? Const Doctor! sir, I believe you have mistaken your man: but if you are called Count Basset, I have a billet-doux in my hand for you, that will set you right presently. [this? Count B. What the devil is the meaning of all Const. Only my lord chief justice's warrant against you for forgery, sir.

Count B. Blood and thunder!

Const. And so, sir, if you please to pull off your fool's frock there, I'll wait upon you to the next justice of peace immediately. (Sir Francis and Manly advance.)

Jenny. Oh! dear me, what's the matter? (Trembling.) [frolic, my dear. Count B. Oh! nothing, only a masquerading Squire R. Oh! ho! is that all.

Sir F. No, sirrah! that is not all. Sir Francis knocks the Squire down with his cane.)

Squire R. Oh, lawd! Oh, lawd! he has beaten my brains out.

Man. Hold, hold! Sir Francis; have a little mercy upon my poor godson, pray, sir.

Sir F. Wounds, cousin, I ha'nt patience. Count B. Manly! nay then I'm blown to the devil. (Aside.)

Squire R. Oh, my head, my head! Enter LADY WRONGHEAD; dressed as a Shepherdess.

Lady W. What's the matter here, gentlemen? For heaven's sake! What, are you murdering my children?

Const. No, no, madam; no murder; only a little suspicion of felony, that's all.

Sir F. (To Jenny.) And for you, Mrs. Hotupon't, I could find in my heart to make you wear that habit as long as you live, you jade you. Do you know, hussy, that you were within two minutes of marrying a pickpocket?

Count B. So, so, all's out, I find! (Aside.) Jenny. Oh, the mercy! why pray, papa, is not the Count a man of quality, then? [seems. Sir F. Oh, yes; one of the unhanged ones, it Lady W. Married! Oh, the confident thing! There was the urgent business then-slighted for her! I ha'n't patience!-and, for aught I know, I have been all this while making a friendship with a highwayman. (Aside.)

Man. Constable, secure there.

Sir F. Ay, my lady! my lady! this comes of your journey to London. but now I'll have a frolic of my own, madam; therefore, pack up your trumpery this very night; for the moment my horses are able to crawl, you and your brats shall make a journey into the country again.

Lady W. Indeed you are mistaken, Sir Francis; I shall not stir out of town yet, I promise you. Sir F. Not stir? Waunds, madam

Man. Hold, sir! If you'll give me leave, a little, I fancy I shall prevail with my lady to think better on't.

Sir F. Ah, cousin, you are a friend indeed!

Man. (Apart to Lady Wronghead.) Look you, madam, as to the favour you designed me, in sending this spurious letter enclosed to my Lady Grace, all the revenge I have taken, is to have saved your son and daughter from ruin. Now, if you will take them fairly and quietly into the country again, I will save your ladyship from ruin. Lady W. What do you mean, sir?

(Apart to Man.) Man. Why, Sir Francis-shall never know what is in this letter; look upon it. How it came into my hands you shall know at leisure.

(Apart to Lady W.) Lady W. Ha! my billet doux to the Count! and an appointment in it! I shall sink with confusion! (Aside.) Man. What shall I say to Sir Francis, madam? (Apart to lady W.) such a trembling! am all obedience. (Apart to Man.) Man. Sir Francis, my lady is ready to receive your commands for her journey, whenever you please to appoint it.

Lady W. Dear sir, I am in Preserve my honour, and I

Sir F. Ah, cousin! I doubt I am obliged to you for it.

Man. Come, come, Sir Francis, take it as you find it. Obedience in a wife is a good thing, though it were never so wonderful! And now, sir, we have nothing to do but to dispose of this gentleman. Count B. Mr. Manly; sir, I hope you won't ruin me!

Man. Did not you forge this note for five hundred pounds, sir?

Count B. Sir, I see you know the world, and therefore I shall not pretend to prevaricate; but it has hurt nobody yet, sir; I beg you will not stigmatize me; since you have spoiled my fortune in one family, I hope you won't be so cruel to a young fellow, as to put it out of my power, sir, to make it in another, sir.

Man. Look you, sir, I have not much time to waste with you, but if you expect mercy yourself, you must shew it to one you have been cruel to. Count B. Cruel, sir?

Man. Have you not ruined this young woman? Count B. I, sir?

Man. I know you have, therefore you can't blame her, if, in the fact you are charged with, she is a principal witness against you. However, you have one, and only one chance to get off with. Marry her this instant, and you take off her evidence. Count B. Dear sir!

Man. No words, sir; a wife, or a mittimus. Count B. Lord, sir! this is the most unmerciful mercy! [stable!

Man. A private penance, or a public one-ConCount B. Hold, sir; since you are pleased to give me my choice, I will not make so ill a compliment to the lady, as not to give her the preference. Man. It must be done this minute, sir! the chaplain you expected is still within call. Myr. Come, sir; don't repine: marriage is at worst but playing upon the square. [the devil. Count B. Ay, but the worst of the match too, is Man. Well, sir, to let you see it is not so bad as you think it; as a reward for her honesty, in detecting your practises, instead of the forged bill you would have put upon her, there's a real one of five hundred pounds, to begin a new honeymoon with. (Gives it to Myrtilla.)

Count B. Sir, this is so generous an actMan. No compliments, dear sir; I am not at leisure now to receive them. Mr. Constable, will you be so good as to wait upon this gentleman into the next room, and give this lady in marriage to him.

Const. Sir, I'll do it faithfully.

[Exit.

[Exeunt all but Sir F. and Lady W. Sir F. And that I may be sure my family's rid of him for ever; come, my lady, let's even take our children along with us, and be all witness of the ceremony. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A dressing-room. LADY TOWNLY discovered as just up; MRS, TRUSTY waiting.

Mrs. T. Dear madam, what should make your ladyship so ill?

Lady T. How is it possible to be well, where one is killed for want of sleep?

Mrs. T. Dear me! it was so long before you rung, madam, I was in hopes your ladyship had been finely composed.

Lady T. Composed! why I have lain in an inn here; this house is worse than an inn with ten stage coaches: what between my lord's impertinent people of business in a morning, and the intolerable thick shoes of footmen at noon, one has not a wink all night.

Mrs. T. Indeed, madam, it's a great pity my lord

Mrs. T. Yes, I hear him now, madam; he is hobbling up as fast as he can.

can't be persuaded into the hours of people of quality; though I must say that, madam, your ladyship is certainly the best matrimonial manager in town.

Lady T. Oh! you are quite mistaken, Trusty! I manage very ill; for, notwithstanding all the power I have, by never being overfond of my lord; yet I want money infinitely oftener than he is willing to give it me.

Mrs. T. Ah! if his lordship could but be brought to play himself, madam, then he might feel what it is to want money.

Lady T. Oh, don't talk of it! Do you know that I am undone, Trusty?

Mrs. T. Mercy forbid, madam!

Lady T. Broke, ruined, plundered!-stripped, even to a confiscation of my last guinea!

Mrs T. You don't tell me so, madam! Lady T. And where to raise ten pounds in the world-What is to be done, Trusty?

Mrs. T. Truly, I wish I were wise enough to tell you, madam; but maybe your ladyship may have a run of better fortune upon some of the good company that comes here to-night.

Lady T. But I have not a single guinea to try my fortune.

Mrs. T. Ha! that's a bad business indeed, madam. Adad, I have a thought in my head, madam, if it is not too late[thee. Lady T. Out with it quickly, then, I beseech Mrs. T. Has not the steward something of fifty pounds, madam. that you left in his hands to pay somebody about this time?

Lady T. Oh, ay; I had forgot-'twas to a-what's his filthy name?

Mrs. T. Now I remember, madam, 'twas to Mr. Lutestring, your old mercer, that your ladyship turned off about a year ago, because he would trust you no longer.

Lady T. The very wretch! If he has not paid it, run quicky, dear Trusty, and bid him bring it hither immediately. [Exit Trusty. Well, sure mortal woman never had such fortune! five, five and nine, against poor seven for ever! No, after that horrid bar of my chance, that Lady Wronghead's. fatal red fist upon the table, I saw it was impossible ever to win another stake. Sit up all nightlose all one's money-dream of winning thousands -wake without a shilling! and then-How like a hag I look! In short, the pleasures of life are not worth this disorder. If it were not for shame now, I could almost think Lady Grace's sober scheme not quite so ridiculous. If my wise lord could but hold his tongue for a week, 'tis odds but I should hate the town in a fortnight; but I will not be driven out of it, that's positive.

Enter MRS. TRUSTY.

Mrs. T. Oh, madam, there's no bearing of it! Mr. Lutestring was just let in at the door, as I came to the stair-foot; and the steward is now actually paying him the money in the hall.

Lady T. Run to the staircase head again, and scream to him that I must speak with him this instant. (Mrs. Trusty runs out and speaks.)

Mrs. T. (Within.) Mr. Poundage!-a-hem! Mr. Poundage, a word with you quickly!

Pound. (Within.) I'll come to you presently! Mrs. T. (Within.) Presently won't do, man; you must come this minute [money here. Pound. (Within.) 1 am but just paying a little Mrs. T. (Within.) Ods my life, paying money! Is the man distracted? Come here, I tell you, to my lady, this moment-quick!

Re-enter MRS. TRUSTY.

Lady T, Will the monster come, or no?

Lady T. Don't let him come in; for he will keep such a babbling about his accounts; my brain is not able to bear him. (Poundage enters with a moneybag in hand.)

Mrs. T. Oh! 'tis well you are come, sir! where's the fifty pounds?

Pound. Why, here it is: if you had not been in such haste, I should have paid it by this time; the man's now writing a receipt below for it.

Mrs. T. No matter; my lady says you must not pay him with that money; there's not enough, it seems: there's a pistole and a guinea that is not good in it; besides, there is a mistake in the account, too. (Twitching the bag from him.) But she is not at leisure to examine it now: so you must bid Mr. What-d'ye-call-um call another time. Lady T. What is all that noise there? Pound. Why, and it please your ladyshipLady T. Pr'ythee, don't plague me now; but do as you were ordered. [Exit.

Pound. Nay, what your ladyship pleases, madam. Mrs. T. There they are, madam. (Pours the money out of the bag.) The pretty things-were so near falling into a nasty tradesman's hands, I protest it made me tremble for them! I fancy your ladyship had as good give me that bad guinea, for luck's sake-Thank you, ma'am. (Takes a guinea.)

Lady T. Why, I did not bid you take it.

Mrs. T. No; but your ladyship looked as if you were just going to bid me; and so I was willing to save you the trouble of speaking, madam.

Lady T. Well, thou hast deserved it; and so, for once (Noise Without.) But, hark! don't I hear the man malsing a noise yonder? Mrs T. I'll listen. Lady T. Pr'ythee do.

Mrs T. Ay, they are at it, madam! he's in a bitter passion with poor Poundage. Bless me! I believe he'll beat him I won't swear, but d― money.

(A man's voice without.) me if I don't have my

Mrs T. Mercy on us, how the wretch swears! Lady T. And a sober citizen, too! that's a shame.

Mrs. T. Ha! I think all's silent, of a sudden-may be the porter has knocked him down; I'll step and [Exit. Lady T. These tradespeople are the troublesomest creatures! No words will satisfy them!

see.

Re-enter MRS. TRUSTY.

Mrs. T. Oh, madam! undone! undone! My lord has just bolted out upon the man, and is hearing all his pitiful story over: if your ladyship pleases to come hither, you may hear him yourself.

Lady T. No matter; it will come round presently; I shall have it from my lord, without losing a word by the way, I'll warrant you. [ia! Mrs. T Oh, lud, madam! here's my lord coming Lady T. Do you get out of the way, then. [Exit Mrs. Trusty. I am afraid I want spirits; but he will soon give them me.

Enter LORD TOWNLY.

Lord T. How comes it, madam, that a tradesman dares be clamorous in my house, for money due to him from you?

Lady T. You don't expect my lord, that I should answer for other people's impertinence.

Lord. T. I expect, madam, you should answer for your own extravagancies, that are the occasion of it; I thought I had given you money, three months ago, to satisfy all these sort of people. [satisfied. Lady T. Yes; but you see they never are to bo

Lord T. Nor am I, madam, longer to be abused thus. What's become of the last five hundred I Lady T. Gone. [gave you? Lord T. Gone! what way, madam? [time. Lady T. Half the town over, I believe, by this Lord T. 'Tis well; I see ruin will make no impression, till it falls upon you.

Lady T. In short my lord, if money is always the subject of our conversation, I shall make you no

answer.

Lord T. Madam, madam, I will be heard, and make you answer.

Lady T. Make me! Then I must tell you, my lord, this is a language I have not been used to, and I won't bear it.

Lord T. Come, come, madam, you shall bear a great deal more, before I part with you.

Lady T. My lord, if you insult me, you shall have as much to bear on your side, I can assure you.

Lord T. Pooh! your spirit grows ridiculous! you have neither honour, worth, or innocence to support it.

Lady T. You'll find at least, I have resentment; and do you look well to the provocation.

Lord T. After those you have given me, madam, 'tis almost infamous to talk with you,

Lady T. I scorn your imputation and your menaces. The narrowness of your heart is your menitor-'tis there, there, my lord, you are wounded; you have less to complain of than many husbands of an equal rank with you.

Lord T. Death, madam! do you presume upon your corporeal merit, that your person's less tainted than your mind? Is it there, there alone, an honest husband can be injured? Have you not every other vice that can debase your birth, or stain the heart of woman? Is not your health, your beauty, husband, fortune, family disclaimed-for nights consumed in riot and extravagance? The wanton does no more-if she conceals her shame, does less; and sure the dissolute avowed, as sorely wrongs my honour and my quiet.

Lady T. I see, my lord, what sort of a wife might please you.

Lord T. Ungrateful woman! could you have seen yourself, you in yourself had seen her. I am amazed our legislature has left no precedent of a divorce, for this more visible injury, this adultery of the mind, as well as that of the person! When a woman's whole heart is alienated to pleasures I have no share in, what is it to me, whether a black ace, or a powdered coxcomb, has possession of it? Lady T. If you have not found it yet, my lord, this is not the way to get possession of mine, depend upon it.

Lord T. That, madam, I have long despaired of; and, since our happiness cannot be mutual, 'tis fit that, with our hearts, our persons too should separate. This house you sleep no more in; though your content might grossly feed upon the dishonour of a husband, yet my desires would starve upon the features of a wife.

Lady T. Your style, my lord, is much of the same delicacy with your sentiments of honour!

Lord T. Madam, madam, this is no time for compliments-I have done with you.

Lady T. Done with me! If we had never met, my lord, I had not broke my heart for it, but have a care; I may not perhaps, be so easily recalled as you may imagine.

Lord T. Recalled? Who's there?
Enter WILLIAMS.

Desire my sister and Mr. Manly to walk up.

[Exit Williams.

Lady T. My lord, you may proceed as you please; but pray what indiscretions have I committed, that are not daily practised by a hundred other women of quality?

Lord T. "Tis not the number of ill wives, madam, that makes the patience of a husband less contemptible; and though a bad one may be the best man's lot, yet he'll make a better figure in the world, that keeps his misfortunes out of doors, than he that tamely keeps them within.

Lady T. I don't know what figure you may make, my lord; but I shall have no reason to be ashamed of mine, in whatever company I may meet you. Lord T. Be sparing of your spirit, madam; you'll need it to support you.

Enter LADY GRACE and MANLY. Mr. Manly, I have an act of friendship to beg of you, which wants more apologies than words can make for it.

Man. Then pray make none, my lord, that I may have the greater merit in obliging you.

Lord T. Sister, I have the same excuse to entreat of you too.

Lady G. To your request, I beg, my lord. Lord T. Thus, then, as you both were present at my ill-considered marriage, I now desire you each will be a witness of my determined separation. I know, sir, your good nature and my sister's, must be shocked at the office I impose on you; but as I don't ask your justification of my cause, so I hope you are conscious that an ill woman can't reproach you, if you are silent on her side.

Man. My lord, I never thought, till now, it could be difficult to oblige you.

Lord T. For you, my Lady Townly, I need not here repeat the provocations of my parting with you the world, I fear, is too well informed of them. For the good lord, your dead father's sake, I will still support you as his daughter. As the Lord Townly's wife, you have had every thing a fond husband could bestow, and to our mutual shame I speak it, more than happy wives desire. But those indulgencies must end; state, equipage, and splendour, but ill become the vices that misuse them. The decent necessaries of life shall be supplied, but not one article to luxury, not even the coach, that waits to carry you from hence, shall you ever use again. Your tender aunt, my Lady Lovemore, with tears, this morning, has consented to receive you; where, if time and your condition bring you to a due reflection, your allowance shall be increased; but if you still are lavish of your little, or pine for past licentious pleasures, that little shall be less; nor will I call that soul my friend that names you in my hearing. Oh, Manly, look there! turn back thy thoughts with me, and witness to my growing love. There was a time, when I believed that form incapable of vice or of decay; there I proposed the partner of an easy home; there I for ever hoped to find a cheerful companion, a faithful friend, an useful helpmate, and a tender mother: but, oh, how bitter now the disappointment!

Man. The world is different in its sense of happiness; offended as you are, I know you will still be just.

Lord T. Fear me not.

Man. This last reproach, I see, has struck her. (Aside.)

Lord T. No, let me not, (though I this moment cast her from my heart for ever,) let me not urge her punishment beyond her crimes. I know the world is fond of any tale that feeds its appetite of scandal; and as I am conscious severities of this kind seldom fail of imputations too gross to men