been abus'd, cheated, fool'd, betray'd; but no-
body knows by whom.

Mir. Undone, past redemption! [Aside.
Sir F. What, won't you speak to me, Chargy?

Mir. I am so surpris'd with joy to see you, SCENE II.—An Apartment in the House of I know not what to say.

Sir F. Poor, dear girl! But do you know that my son, or some such rogue, to rob or murder me, or both, contriv'd this journey? for upon the road I met my neighbour Squeezum well, and coming to town.

Mir. Good lack! good lack! what tricks are there in this world!

SIR JEALOUS TRAFFICK

Enter SIR JEALOUS TRAFFICK, meeting o
Servant.

Sero. Sir, here's a couple of gentlemen inquire for you; one of them calls himself signior Diego Babinetto.

Sir J. Ha! Signior Babinetto! admit 'em instantly-joyful minute; I'll have my daughter

Re-enter SCENTWELL, with a diamond Neck-married to-night. lace in her Hand, not seeing SIR FRANCIS. Scent. Madam, be pleas'd to tie this neck-Enter CHARLES in a Spanish habit, with lace on, for I can't get into theSIR GEORGE AIRY, dressed like a Merchant. Senhor, beso las manos: vuestra merced es

[Seeing Sir Francis.

Mir. The wench is a fool, I think! Could muy bien venido en esta tierra. you not have carried it to be mended without putting it in the box?

Sir F. What's the matter?

Charles. Senhor, soy muy humilde, y muy obligado cryado de vuestra merced: mi padre embia a vuestra merced, los mas profondos de sus respetos; y a commissionado este mercadel Ingles, de concluyr un negocio, que me haze el mas dichoss hombre del mundo, ha

Mir. Only, dearee! I bid her, I bid herYour ill-usage has put every thing out of my head. But won't you go, Gardy, and find out these fellows, and have them punished, and, ziendo me su yerno. and

Sir J. I am glad on't, for I find I have lost

Sir F. Where should I look for them, child? much of my Spanish. Sir, I am your most no, I'll sit me down contented with my safety, humble servant. Signior don Diego Babinetto nor stir out of my own doors till I go with has informed me that you are commissioned thee to a parson. by signior don Pedro, etc. his worthy father

Mir. If he goes into his closet I am ruin'd. [Aside] Oh, bless me! In this fright I had forgot Mrs. Patch.

Patch. Ay, madam, and I stay for speedy answer.

Sir G. To see an affair of marriage consummated between a daughter of yours and signior Diego Babinetto his son here. True, your sir, such a trust is repos'd in me, as that letter will inform you.-I hope 'twill pass upon him. [Aside. Gives him a Letter. Sir J. Ay, 'tis his hand. [Seems to read. Sir G. Good, you have counterfeited to a nicety, Charles. [Aside to Charles. Sir J. Sir, I find by this that you are a man of honour and probity; I think, sir, he calls you Meanwell.

Mir. I must get him out of the house. Now assist me, fortune! [Aside. Sir F. Mrs. Patch! I profess I did not see you: how dost thou do, Mrs. Patch? Well, don't you repent leaving my Chargy?

Patch. Yes, every body must love her-but I come now-Madam, what did I come for? my invention is at the last ebb.

Sir G. Meanwell is my name, sir. [Aside to Miranda. Sir J. A very good name, and very signiSir F. Nay, never whisper, tell me. ficant. For to mean well is to be honest, and Mir. She came, dear Gardy! to invite me to be honest is the virtue of friend, and a to her lady's wedding, and you shall go with friend is the delight and support of human me, Gardy; 'tis to be done this moment, to a society.

Spanish merchant. Old sir Jealous keeps on Sir G. You shall find that I'll discharge the his humour: the first minute he sees her, the part of a friend in what I have undertaken, next he marries her. sir Jealous. Therefore, sir, I must entreat the

Sir F. Ha, ha, ha, ha! I'd go if I thought presence of your fair daughter, and the assistthe sight of matrimony would tempt Chargy ance of your chaplain; for signior don Pedro to perform her promise. There was a smile, strictly enjoined me to see the marriage rites there was a consenting look, with those pretty performed as soon as we should arrive, to twinklers, worth a million! 'Ods-precious! I avoid the accidental overtures of Venus. am happier than the great mogul, the emperor Sir J. Overtures of Venus! of China, or all the potentates that are not in Sir G. Ay, sir; that is, those little hawking the wars. Speak, confirm it, make me leap females that traverse the park and the playout of my skin. house to put off their damag'd ware-they Mir. When one has resolved, 'tis in vain fasten upon foreigners like leeches, and watch to stand shilly-shally. If ever I marry, posi- their arrival as carefully as the Kentish men tively this is my wedding-day. do a shipwreck: I warrant you they have heard

Sir J. Nay, I know this town swarms with them.

Sir F. Oh! happy, happy man- Verily, I of him already. will beget a son the first night shall disinherit that dog Charles. I have estate enough to purchase a barony, and be the immortalizing the whole family of the Gripes.

Mir. Come then, Gardy, give me thy hand; let's to this house of Hymen.

Sir G. Ay, and then you know the Spaniards are naturally amorous, but very constant; the first face fixes 'em; and it may be very dangerous to let him ramble ere he is tied.

Sir J. Pat to my purpose 1)-Well, sir,| Isa. Oh! never, never!

there is but one thing more, and they shall Could I suspect that falsehood in my heart, be married instantly. I would this moment tear it from my breast, Charles. Pray heaven that one thing more And straight present him with the treach'rous don't spoil all. [Aside.

part.

Sir J. Don Pedro wrote me word, in his Sir J. Falsehood! why, who the devil are last but one, that he designed the sum of five you in love with? Don't provoke me, for by thousand crowns by way of jointure for my St. Iago I shall beat you, housewife. daughter, and that it should be paid into my Sir G. Sir Jealous, you are too passionate. hand upon the day of marriageGive me leave, I'll try by gentle words to Charles. Oh, the devil! [Aside. work her to your purpose. Sir J. In order to lodge it in some of our Sir J. I pray do, Mr. Meanwell, I funds in case she should become a widow, she'll break my heart. [Weeps] There is in and return to Englandthat casket jewels of the value of three thou

pray

do;

Sir G. Pox on't! this is an unlucky turn. sand pounds, which were her mother's, and What shall I say? [Aside. a paper wherein I have settled one-half of Sir J. And he does not mention one word my estate upon her now, and the whole when of it in this letter. I die, but provided she marries this gentleman, Sir G. Humph! True, sir Jealous, he told else by St. Iago, I'll turn her out of doors to Tell her this, Mr. Meanwell, me such a thing, but, but, but, but-he, he, beg or starve. he, he he did not imagine that you would pray do. [Walks toward Charles. insist upon the very day; for, for, for, for Sir G. Ha! this is beyond expectation money, you know, is dangerous returning by Trust to me, sir, I'll lay the dangerous consequence of disobeying you at this juncture

sea, an, an, an

Charles. Zounds! say we have brought it before her, I warrant you. Come, madam, do in commodities. [Aside to Sir George. not blindly cast your life away just in the Sir G. And so, sir, he has sent it in mer-moment you would wish to save it. chandize, tobacco, sugars, spices, lemons, and Isa. Pray cease your trouble, sir: I have so forth, which shall be turned into money no wish but sudden death to free me from with all expedition: in the mean time, sir, if you this hated Spaniard. please to accept of my bond for performance

Sir J. It is enough, sir; I am so pleas'd with the countenance of signior Diego, and the harmony of your name, that I'll take your word, and will fetch my daughter this moment. Within there.

Enter Servant.

Desire Mr. Tackum, my neighbour's chaplain, to walk hither.

Serv. Yes, sir.

[Exit.

inform him what I say.

If you are his friend,

Sir G. Suppose this Spaniard, which you strive to shun, should be the very man to whom you'd fly?

Isa. Ha!

Sir G. Would you not blame your rash resolve, and curse your eyes that would not look on Charles?

Isa. On Charles! Where is he? [Rises. Sir G. Hold, hold, hold. 'Sdeath! madam, Sir. J. Gentlemen, I'll return in an instant. you'll ruin all. Your father believes him to [Exit. be signior Babinetto. Compose yourself a little, Sir G. 'Egad, that five thousand crowns had pray madam. [He runs to Sir Jealous] She like to have ruined the plot.

Charles. But that's over; and if fortune throws no more rubs in our way

Sir G. Thou'lt carry the prize-But hist! here he comes.

Re-enter SIR JEALOUS TRAFFICK, dragging in ISABINDA.

Sir J. Come along, you stubborn baggage, you! come along.

Isa. Oh! hear me, sir, hear me but speak one word;

Do not destroy my everlasting peace;
My soul abhors this Spaniard you have chose.
Sir J. How's that?

ture.

Isa. Let this posture move your tender na[Kneels. For ever will I hang upon these knees, Nor loose my hands till cut off you my hold, If you refuse to hear me, sir.

Sir J. Did you ever see such a perverse slut? Off, I say. Mr. Meanwell, pray help me

a little.

Sir G. Rise, madam, and do not disoblige your father, who has provided a husband worthy of you, one that will love you equal with his soul, and one that you will love, when once you know him.

1) Pat means, exactly,

Serv. Sir, here is Mr. Tackum.

Sir J. Show him into the parlour. [Exit Servant]-Senhor tome vind sueipora : cette momento les junta les manos.

[Gives her to Charles. Charles. Senhor, yo la recibo como se deve un tesora tan grande. [Embraces her: Sir J. Now, Mr. Meanwell, let's to the parson, Who, by his art, will join this pair for life, Make me the happiest father, her the happiest wife. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Street before SIR JEALOUS

TRAFFICK'S House.
Enter MARPlot.

Mar. I have hunted all over the town for

Charles, but can't find him, and by Whisper's his voice; I shall be beaten again.
scouting at the end of the street, I suspect he
must be in the house again. I am informed
too that he has borrowed a Spanish habit out
of the playhouse: what can it mean?

Enter a Servant of SIR JEALOUS TRAFFICK'S
to him out of the House.

Hark'e, sir, do you belong to this house?
Serv. Yes, sir.

Mar. Isn't your name Richard?
Serv. No, sir; Thomas.

Mar. Oh, ay, Thomas-Well, there's a shilling for you.

Sero. Thank you, sir.

[Aside.

Sir J. Nothing at all, sir! Why then what business have you in my house, ha? Serv. You said you wanted a gentleman in a Spanish habit.

Mar. Why ay, but his name is neither Babinetto nor Meanwell.

Sir J. What is his name then, sirrah? Ha! now I look at you again, I believe you are the rogue that threatened me with half a dozen myrmidons

Mar. Me, sir! I never saw your face in all Thomas, my life before.

Mar. Pray, Thomas, can you tell if there be a gentleman in it in a Spanish habit?

Sir J. Speak, sir; who is it you look for?

or, or

Mar. A terrible old dog! [Aside] Why, sir, only an honest young fellow of my acSero. There's a Spanish gentleman within quaintance-I thought that here might be a that is just a-going to marry my young lady, sir. ball, and that he might have been here in a Mar. Are you sure he is a Spanish gentleman? masquerade.-'Tis Charles, sir Francis Gripe's Sero. I'm sure he speaks no English that I son,-because I knew he us'd to come hither hear of. sometimes.

Mar. Then that can't be him I want, for 'tis Sir J. Did he so?-Not that I know of, I'm an English gentleman that I inquire after; he sure. Pray heaven that this be don Diegomay be dressed like a Spaniard, for aught IIf I should be trick'd now-Ha! my heart misknow. gives me plaguily-Within there! stop the Serv. Ha! who knows but this may be an marriage-Run, sirrab, call all my servants! impostor? I'll inform my master, for if he I'll be satisfied that this is signior Pedro's son should be impos'd upon, he'll beat us all round, ere he has my daughter. [Aside] Pray come in, sir, and see if this be the person you inquire for.

Mar. Ay, I'll follow you-Now for it. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Inside of the House. Enter MARPLOT and Servant. Serv. Sir, please to stay here; I'll send my master to you. [Exit. Mar. So, this was a good contrivance. If this be Charles now, he will wonder how I found him out.

Mar. Ha! sir George! what have I done now? Enter SIR GEORGE AIRY, with a drawn Sword, between the Scenes.

Sir G. Ha! Marplot here-oh, the unlucky dog-What's the matter, sir Jealous?

Sir J. Nay, I don't know the matter, Mr. Meanwell.

Mar. Upon my soul, sir George

[Going up to Sir George. Sir J. Nay then, I'm betray'd, ruin'd, undone.-Thieves, traitors, rogues! [Offers to go in] Stop the marriage, I say

Re-enter Servant and SIR JEALOUS TRAFFICK.
Sir G. I say go on, Mr. Tackum.-Nay, no
Sir J. What is your earnest business. entering here; I guard this passage, old gen-
blockhead! that you must speak with me be-tleman: the act and deed were both your

fore the ceremony's past? Ha! who's this?

Sero. Why this gentleman, sir, wants another gentleman in a Spanish habit, he says. Sir J. In a Spanish habit! 'tis some friend of signior don Diego's, I warrant. Sir, your

servant.

Sir J. I say, I suppose you would speak with signior Babinetto?

Mar Hey-day! what the devil does he say now? [Aside] Sir, I don't understand you. Sir J. Don't you understand Spanish, sir? Mar. Not I indeed, sir.

Sir J. I thought you had known signior Babinetto.

Mar. Not I, upon my word, sir.

Sir J. What then, you'd speak with his friend, the English merchant, Mr. Meanwell? Mar. Neither, sir, not I; I don't mean any such thing.

Sir J. Why, who are you then, sir? and what do you want? [In an angry Tone. Mar. Nay, nothing at all, not I, sir. - Pox on him! I wish I were out; he begins to exalt |

own, and I'll see 'em sign'd, or die for't.

Enter Servant.

Sir J. A pox on the act and deed! - Fall on, knock him down.

Sir G. Ay, come on, scoundrels! I'll prick your jackets for you.

you.

Sir J. Zounds! sirrah, I'll be reveng'd on [Beats Marplot. Sir G. Ay, there your vengeance is due. Ha, ha!

Mar. Why, what do you beat me for? I han't married your daughter.

Sir J. Rascals! why don't you knock him down?

Serv. We are afraid of his sword, sir; if you'll take that from him, we'll knock him down presently.

Enter CHARLES and ISABINDA.
Sir J. Seize her then.

Charles. Rascals, retire; she's my wife: touch her if you dare; I'll make dogs'-meat of you.

Mar. Ay, I'll make dogs'-meat of you, rascals. Sir J. Ah! downright English — Oh, oh, oh, oh!

Enter SIR FRANCIS GRIPE and MIRANDA. Sir F. Into the house of joy we enter without knocking-Ha! I think 'tis the house of sorrow, sir Jealous.

Mar. Now how the devil could she get those writings, and I know nothing of it?

Sir F. What, have you robb'd me too, mistress? 'Egad, I'll make you restore 'em

Sir J. Oh, sir Francis, are you come? hussy, I will so. What! was this your contrivance, to abuse, trick, and chouse me out of my child? Sir F. My contrivance! what do you mean? Sir J. No, you don't know your son there in a Spanish habit?

Sir J. Take care I don't make you pay the
arrears, sir. 'Tis well 'tis no worse, since 'tis
Come, young man, seeing thou
no better.
hast outwitted me, take her, and bless you both!
Charles. I hope, sir, you'll bestow your
[Kneels.
blessing too; 'tis all I ask.
Mar. Do, Gardy, do.
Sir F. Confound you all!

[Exit.

Mar. Mercy upon us, how he looks!"
Sir G. Ha, ha, ha! ne'er mind his curses,
Charles; thou'lt thrive not one jot the worse
Since this gentleman is reconcil'd

Sir F. How! my son in a Spanish habit! Sirrah, you'll come to be hang'd. Get out of my sight, ye dog! get out of my sight. Sir J. Get out of your sight, sir! get out Let's see what you'll give with your bags. him now to maintain my daughter on. Sir F. Give him! he shall never be the for 'em. better for a penny of mine-and you might have look'd after your daughter better, sir Jealous. Trick'd, quotha! 'Egad, I think you design'd to trick me: but lookye, gentlemen, I This lady is believe I shall trick you both. my wife, do you see, and my estate shall descend only to her children.

Sir G. I shall be extremely obliged to you, sir Francis.

Sir F. Ha, ha, ha, ha! poor sir George! does not your hundred pounds stick in your stomach? ha, ha, ha!

Sir G. No, faith, sir Francis, this lady has given me a cordial for that.

[Takes her by the Hand. Sir F. Hold, sir, you have nothing to say to this lady.

Sir G. Nor you nothing to do with my wife, sir.
Sir F. Wife, sir!

Mir. Ay, really, guardian, 'tis even so. hope you'll forgive my first offence.

I

Sir F. What, have you chous'd me out of my consent and your writings then, mistress, ha? Mir. Out of nothing but my own, guardian. Sir J. Ha, ha, ha! 'tis some comfort at least to see you are over-reach'd as well as myself. Will you settle your estate upon your son now Sir F. He shall starve first.

?

Mir. That I have taken care to prevent. There, sir, are the writings of your uncle's estate, which have been your due these three [Gives Charles Papers. years. Charles. I shall study to deserve this favour.

we are all made happy.

Sir J. I always lov'd precaution, and took care to avoid dangers; but whert a thing was past, I ever had philosophy to be easy.

Charles. Which is the true sign of a great soul. I lov'd your daughter, and she me, and you shall have no reason to repent her choice. Isa. You will not blame me, sir, for loving my own country best.

Mar. So here's every body happy, I find, but poor Pilgarlick. I wonder what satisfaction I shall have for being cuff'd, kick'd, and beaten in your service!

Sir J. I have been a little too familiar with you as things are fallen out; but since there's no help for't, you must forgive me.

Mar. 'Egad, I think so-but provided that you be not so familiar for the future.

Sir G. Thou hast been an unlucky rogue.
Mar. But very honest.

Charles. That I'll vouch for, and freely for give thee.

Sir G. And I'll do you one piece of service more, Marplot; I'll take care that sir Francis makes you master of your estate.

Mar. That will make me as happy as any of you. Sir J. Now let us in, and refresh ourselves with a cheerful glass, in which we'll bury all animosities; and

By my example let all parents move,
And never strive to cross their children's love;
But still submit that care to Providence above.
[Exeunt.

COLLEY CIBBER.

A native of Hol

On

CIEBER was born on the 6th of November, O. S. 1671. His father, Cajus Gabriel Cibber, was In 168 he was sent to the freestein, and came into England, to follow his profession of a statuary, some time before the restoration of King Charles II. His mother was the daughter, of William Colley, Esq. of Glaiston in Rutlandshire. school of Grantham in Lincolnshire, where he stayed till he got through it, from the lowest form to the uppermost; and such learning as that school could give him is, as he himself acknowledges, the most he could pretend to. leaving the school, our author came to Nottingham, and found his father in arms there among the forces which the Ear of Devonshire had raised to aid the Prince of Orange, afterwards King William 111. who had landed in the west. The old man, considering this a very proper season for a young fellow to distinguish himself in, entreated the Earl of Devonshire to accept of his son in his room, which his Lordship not only consented to, but even promised, that, when alfairs were settled, he would further provide for him. During his period of attendance on this nobleman, however, a frequent application to the amusements of the theatre awakened in him his passion for the stage, which he seemed now determined un pursuing as his summum bonum, and, in spite of father, mother, or friends, to fix on as his ne plus ultra. From 1689 to 1711 we find him working through the difficulties of a poor salary at the theatre and the supporting by 1e help of his pen a numerous family of children. In 1711 he became united, as joint-patentee with Collier, Wilks, and Degget, in the management of Drury Lane theatre; and afterwards in a like partnership with Booth, Wilks, and Sir ease, gaiety, and good-humour, Rachard Steele. During this latter period, which did not entirely end till 1751, the English stage was perhaps in the After a number of years, passed in the utmost est fourushing state it ever enjoyed. 32 he departed this life, at Islington, on the 12th of December 1757; his man-servant (whom he had talked to by his bed.

And

side at six in the morning, in seeming good health) finding him dead at nine, lying on his pillow, just as he left him. He had recently completed his 86th year. "I was vain enough to think," says he, "that I had more ways than one to come at applause and that, in the variety of characters I acted, the chances to win it were the strongest on my side. That, if the multitude were not in a roar to see me in Cardinal Wolsey, I could be sure of them in Alderman Fondlewife. If they hated me in Jago, in Sir Fopling they took me for a fine gentleman. If they were silent at Syphax, no Italian eunuch was more applauded than I when I sung in Sir Courtly. If the morals of Aesop were too grave for them, Justice Shallow was as simple and as merry an old rake as the wisest of our young ones could wish me. though the terror and detestation raised by King Richard might be too severe a delight for them, yet the more gentle and modern vanities of a Poet Bayes, or the well-bred vices of a Lord Foppington, were not at all more than their merry hearts, or nicer morals, could bear." In answer to Pope's attack upon him for plagiarism, Mr. Cibber candidly declares, that whenever he took upon him to make some dormant play of an old author fit for the stage, it was honestly not to be idle that set him to work, as a good housewife will mend old linen when se has no better employment; but that, when he was more warmly engaged by a subject entirely new he only thought it a good subject, when it seemed worthy of an abler pen than his own, and might prove as useful to the hearer as profitable to himself. And, indeed, this essential piece of merit must be granted to his own original plays, that they always tend to the improvement of the mind as well as the entertainment of the eye; and that vice and folly, however pleasingly habited, are constantly lashed, ridiculed, or reclaimed in them, and virtue as constantly rewarded. There is an argument, indeed, which might be pleaded in favour of this author, were his plays possessed of a much smaller share of merit than is to be found in them; which is, that he wrote, at least in the early part of his life, through necessity, for the support of his increasing family his precarious income as an actor being then too scanty to supply it with even the necessaries of life: and with great pleasantry he acquaints us, that his muse and his spouse were equally prolific; that the one was seldom mother of a child, but in the same year the other made him the father of a play; and that they had had a dozen of each sort between them, of both which kinds some died in their infancy, and near an equal number of each were alive when he quitted the theatre. No wonder then, when the Muse is only called upon by family duty, that she should not always rejoice in the fruit of her labour. This excuse, we say, might be pleaded in Mr. Cibber's favour: but we must confess ourselves of the opinion, that there is no occasion for the plea; and that his plays have merit enough to speak in their own cause, without the necessity of begging indulgence. His plots, whether original or borrowed, are lively and full of business; yet not confused in the action, nor bungled in the catastrophe. His characters are well drawn, and his dialogue easy, genteel, and natural. And if he has not the intrinsic wit of a Congreve or a Vanburgh, yet there is a luxuriance of fancy in his thoughts, which gives an almost equal pleasure, and a purity in his sentiments and morals, the want of which, in the above named authors, has so frequently and so justly been censured. In a word, we think the English stage as much obliged to Mr. Cibber, for a fund of rational entertainment, as to any dramatic writer this nation has produced, Shakspeare only excepted; and one unanswerable evidence has been borne to the satisfaction the public have received from his plays, and such a one as no author besides himself can boast, viz. that although the number of his dramatic pieces is very extensive, a considerable part are now, and seem likely to continue, on the list of acting and favourite plays.

THE PROVOKED HUSBAND;

Or, a Journey to London. Acted at Drury Lane 1728. This comedy was begun by Sir John Vanburgh, but left by him imperfect at his death; when Mr. Cibber took it in hand, and finished it. It met with very great success, being acted twenty-eight nights without interruption; yet such is the power of prejudice and personal pique in biassing the judgment, that Mr. Cibber's enemies, ignorant of what share he had in the writing of the piece, bestowed the highest applause on the part which related to Lord Townly's provocations from his wife, which was mostly Cibber's, at the same time that they condemned and opposed the Journey to London part, which was almost entirely Vanburgh's, for no other apparent reason but because they imagined it to be Mr. Cibber's. He soon, however, convinced them of their mistake, by publishing all the scenes which Sir John had left behind him, exactly from his own MS. under the single title of The Journey to London.

LORD TOWNLY.

SIR F. WRONGHEAD.
MANLY.

SQUIRE RICHARD.

COUNT BASSET.

ACT I.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

POUNDAGE.

JOHN MOODY.
JAMES.

CONSTABLE.
WILLIAMS.

SCENE I-LORD TOWNLY'S Apartment.

Enter LORD TOWNLY.

thinks it a greater merit still, in her chastity, not to care for her husband; and, while she herself is solacing in one continual round of cards and good company, he, poor wretch, is Lord T. WHY did I marry?-Was it not left at large, to take care of his own contentevident, my plain, rational scheme of life was ment-'Tis time, indeed, some care were taimpracticable with a woman of so different a ken, and speedily there shall be-Yet, let me way of thinking? Is there one article of it not be rash-Perhaps this disappointment of that she has not broke in upon?-Yes-let me my heart may make me too impatient; and do her justice-her reputation-That-I have some tempers, when reproached, grow more no reason to believe, is in question-But then, untractable-Here she comes-Let me be calm how long her profligate course of pleasures awhile. may make her able to keep it-is a shocking consideration! and her presumption, while she

Enter LADY TOWNLY.

keeps it, insupportable! for, on the pride of Going out so soon after dinner, madam? that single virtue, she seems to lay it down

Lady T. Lord, my lord! what can I pos

Lord T. What does my sister, lady Grace,

as a fundamental point, that the free indul-sibly do at home?
gence of every other vice this fertile town
affords, is the birthright prerogative of a wo-do at home?
man of quality.-Amazing! that a creature,

so warm in the pursuit of her pleasures, should you ever any pleasure at home?

never cast one thought towards her happiness

Lady T. Why, that is to me amazing! Ilave

Lord T. It might be in your power, madam, I

-Thus, while she admits of no lover, she confess, to make it a little more comfortable to me!