but I don't know whether I can in honour discover all.

Mel. All, all, man. What, you may in honour betray her as far as she betrays herself. No tragical design upon my person, I hope?

Mask. No, but it's a comical design upon

mine.

Mel. What dost thou mean?

Mask. Listen, and be dumb: we have been bargaining about the rate of your ruin Mel. Like any two guardians to an orphan heiress. Well.

Mask And whereas pleasure is generally paid with mischief, what mischief I shall do is to be paid with pleasure.

Mel. So when you've swallowed the potion, you sweeten your mouth with a plum?

Mask. You are merry, sir; but I shall probe your constitution: in short, the price of your banishment is to be paid with the person of Mel. Of Cynthia, and her fortune. Why, you forget, you told me this before. Mask. No, no; so far you are right; I am, as an earnest of that bargain, to full and free possession of the person your aunt.

Mel. Why, what's the matter? She's convinced that I don't care for her.

Care. I can't get an answer from ber, that does not begin with her honour, or her virtue, or some such cant. Then she has told me the whole history of sir Paul's nine years' courtship; how he has lain for whole nights together upon the stairs, before her chamberdoor; and that the first favour he received from her, was a piece of an old scarlet petticoat for a stomacher; which, since the day of his marriage, he has, out of a piece of gallantry, converted into a night-cap; and wears it still, with much solemnity, on his anniversary wedding-night.

Mel. You are very great with him. I wonder he never told you his grievances. he will, I warrant you.

Care. Excessively foolish!-But that which gives me most hopes of her, is her telling me of the many temptations she has resisted.

Mel. Nay, then you have her; for a woman's bragging to a man that she has overand come temptations, is an argument that they have were weakly offered, and a challenge to him of-to engage her more irresistibly. Here she comes with sir Paul. I'll leave you. Ply her close, and by-and-by clap a billet-doux into her hand; for a woman never thinks a truly in love with her, till he has been fool enough to think of her out of her sight, and to lose so much time as to write to her. [Exit.

Mel. Ha!-Pho! you trifle. Mask. By this light, I'm serious, all raillery apart. I knew 'twould stun you. This evening, at eight, she will receive me in her bedchamber.

Mel. Hell and the devil! is she abandoned of all grace?-Why, the woman is possessed. Mask. Well, will you go in my stead? Mel. Into a hot furnace sooner. Mask. No you would not; it would not be so convenient, as I can order matters.

Met. What d'ye mean?

man

Enter SIR PAUL and LADY PLIANT.
Sir P. Shan't we disturb your meditation,
Mr. Careless? you would be private?

Care. You bring that along with you, sir Paul, that shall be always welcome to my privacy.

Sir P. O, sweet sir, you load your humble servants, both me and my wife, with continual favours.

Mask. Mean! not to disappoint the lady, I assure you.—Ha, ha, ha! how gravely be looks. -Come, come, I won't perplex you. 'Tis the only thing that Providence could have contrived Lady P. Sir Paul, what a phrase was there! to make me capable of serving you, either to You will be making answers, and taking that my inclination or your own necessity. upon you which ought to lie upon me: that Mel. How, how, for heaven's sake, dear you should have so little breeding, to think Maskwell? Mr. Careless did not apply himself to me.

rance.

Mask. Why thus: I'll go according to ap- Pray what have you to entertain any body's pointment; you shall have notice, at the cri- privacy? I swear and declare, in the face of tical minute, to come and surprise your aunt the world, I'm ready to blush for your ignoand me together. Counterfeit a rage against me, and I'll make my escape through the pri- Sir P. I acquiesce, my lady; but don't snub vate passage from her chamber, which I'll take so loud. [Apart. care to leave open. 'Twill be hard if then Lady P. Mr. Careless, if a person that is you can't bring her to any conditions; for wholly illiterate might be supposed to be cathis discovery will disarm her of all defence, pable of being qualified to make a suitable and leave her entirely at your mercy: nay, return to those obligations, which you are she must ever after be in awe of you.

Mel. Let me adore thee, my better genius! I think it is not in the power of fate now to disappoint my hopes-my hopes? my certainty! Mask. Well, I'll meet you here, within a quarter of eight, and give you notice. Mel. Good fortune ever go with thee! [Exit Maskwell.

pleased to confer upon one that is wholly incapable of being qualified in all those circum stances, I'm sure I should rather attempt it than any thing in the world; [Courtesies] for, I'm sure, there's nothing in the world that I would rather. [Courtesies] But I know Mr. Careless is so great a critic, and so fine a gentleman, that it is impossible for meCare. O heavens, madam! you confound me. Sir P. 'Gadsbud, she's a fine person. Care. Mellefont, get out o'the way. My Lady P. O Lord, sir, pardon me, we wolady Pliant's coming, and I shall never suc- men have not those advantages: I know my ceed while thou art in sight, though she be-own imperfections; but, at the same time, you gins to tack about; but I made love a great must give me leave to declare in the face of while to no purpose. the world, that nobody is more sensible of

Enter CAREless.

favours and things; for, with the reserve of great grief to me, indeed it is, Mr. Careless, my honour, I assure you, Mr. Careless, I that I have not a son to inherit this. - 'Tis don't know any thing in the world I would true, I have a daughter; and a fine dutiful refuse to a person so meritorious.-You'll par- child she is, though I say it-blessed be Prodon my want of expression. vidence, I may say; for indeed, Mr. Careless,

unworthy sinner!-But if I had a son-ah,
that's my affliction, and my only affliction;
indeed, I cannot refrain from tears when it
comes in my mind.
[Cries.

Care. O, your ladyship is abounding in all I am mightily beholding to Providence-a poor excellence, particularly that of phrase. Lady P. You are so obliging, sir. Care. Your ladyship is so charming. Sir P. So, now, now; now, my lady. Lady P. So well bred. Care. So surprising.

Lady P. So well dressed, so bonne mine, so eloquent, so unaffected, so easy, so free, so particular, so agreeable

Sir P. Ay, so, so, there.

Care. Why, methinks that might be easily remedied-my lady's a fine likely woman, Sir P. Oh, a fine likely woman as you shall see in a summer's day-indeed she is, Mr. Careless, in all respects.

Care. And I should not have taken you to

Care. O Lord, I beseech you, madam, don't-have been so oldLady P. So gay, so graceful, so good teeth, so fine shape, so fine limbs, so fine linen; and I don't doubt but you have a very good skin, sir.

Care. For heaven's sake, madam-I'm quite out of countenance.

Sir P. And my lady's quite out of breath, or else you should hear.-'Gadsbud, you may talk of my lady Froth

Sir P. Alas, that's not it, Mr. Careless; ah! that's not it; no, no, you shoot wide of the mark a mile, indeed you do; that's not it, Mr. Careless; no, no, that's not it.

Care. No! what can be the matter then? Sir P. You'll scarcely believe me, when I shall tell you.-Why, my lady is so nice-I am her husband, as I may say, though far unworthy of that honour; yet I am her husCare. O fie, fie; not to be nam'd of a day. band; but, alas-a-day, I have no more famiMy lady Froth is very well in her accom-liarity with her person, as to that matter, than plishments, but it is when my lady Pliant is with my own mother; no indeed. not thought of; if that can ever be.

Care. Alas-a-day, this is a lamentable story; Lady P. O, you overcome me-that is so 'tis an injury to the world; my lady must be told on't; she must, i'faith, sir Paul.

excessive.

Sir P. Nay, I swear and vow, that was pretty. Care, O, sir Paul, you are the happiest man alive. Such a lady! that is the envy of her sex, and the admiration of ours.

Sir P. Ah! would to heaven you would, Mr. Careless; you are mightily in her favour. Care. I warrant you;-what! we must have a son some way or other.

Sir P. Your humble servant.-I am, I thank Sir P. Indeed I should be mightily bound heaven, in a fine way of living, as I may say, to you, if you could bring it about, Mr. Capeacefully and happily; and, I think, need reless. not envy any of my neighbours, blessed be Lady P. Sir Paul, it's from your steward; Providence!-Ay, truly, Mr. Careless, my lady here's a return of six hundred pounds; you is a great blessing; a fine, discreet, wellspo- may take fifty of it for your next half year. ken woman, as you shall see, if it becomes [Gives him the Letter. me to say so; and we live very comfortably together: she is a little hasty sometimes, and so am I; but mine is soon over, and then I'm so sorry. O, Mr. Careless, if it were not for one thing

Enter TIMOTHY, with a Letter, and offers

it to SIR PAUL PLIANT.

'Gadso, 'gadsbud-Tim, carry it to my lady; you should have carried it to my lady first. Tim. 'Tis directed to your worship.

Sir P. Well, well, my lady reads all letters first.

Enter LORD FROTH and CYNTHIA. Sir P. How does my girl? Come hither to thy father-poor lamb, thou'rt melancholy.

Lord F. Heaven's, sir Paul! you amaze me, of all things in the world-You are never pleased but when we are all upon the broad grin; all laugh, and no company: ah, then 'tis such a sight to see some teeth--Sure you're a great admirer of my lady Whifler, Mr. Sneer, and sir Lawrence Loud, and that gang.

Sir P. I vow and swear she's a very merry woman; but I think she laughs a little too

Lady P. How often have you been told of much. that, you jackanapes?

Tim?

Lord F. Merry! O Lord, what a character Sir P. Child, do so no more; d'ye hear, that is of a woman of quality! - You have been at my lady Whifler's upon her day, Tim. No, and please you. [Exit. madam? "[To Cynthia. Sir P. A humour of my wife's-you know, Cyn. Yes, my lord.-I must humour this women have little fancies. But, as I was tell-fool. ing you, Mr. Careless, if it were not for one Lord F. Well, and how? he! What is thing, I should think myself the happiest man your sense of the conversation there? in the world; indeed, that touches me near, very near.

[Aside.

Cyn. O, most ridiculous! a perpetual concert of laughing without any harmony; for Care. What can that be, sir Paul? sure, my lord, to laugh out of time is as disSir P. Why, I have, I thank heaven, a very agreeable as to sing out of time, or out of tune. plentiful fortune, a good estate in the country, Lord F. He, he, he! right; and then, my some houses in town, and some money, a lady Whitler is so ready, she always comes pretty tolerable personal estate: and it is alin three bars too soon: and then what do

they laugh at? For, you know, laughing.
without a jest, is as impertinent, he! as, as-
Cyn. As dancing without a fiddle.
Lord F. Just, 'ifaith-that was at my ton-Ay, charioteer does hetter.
gue's end.

Lady F. [Reads] And when at night his
labour's done,

Cyn. But that cannot be properly said of them; for, I think, they are all in good nature with the world, and only laugh at one another; and, you must allow, they have all jests in their person's, though they have none in their conversation.

Then too, like heaven's charioteer, the sun

Into the dairy he descends,

[Reads.

And there his whipping and his driving ends; There he's secure from danger of a bilk, His fare is paid him, and he sets in milk. For Susan, you know, is Thetis, and soBrisk. Incomparable well and proper, 'egad; but I have one exception to make-Don't you Lord F. True, as I'm a person of honour: think bilk (I know it's good rhyme); but don't for heavens sake, let us sacrifice 'em to mirth you think bilk and fare too like a hackney-a little. coachman?

Sir P. 'Gadso-Wife, wife; my lady Pliant, I have a word—

Lady P. I'm busy, sir Paul, I wonder at your impertinence.

below.

Lady F. I swear and vow I'm afraid so; and yet our Jehu was a hackney-coachman when my lord took him.

Brisk. Was he? I'm answered, if Jehu was a hackney-coachman-You may put that into the marginal notes though, to prevent criticism: only mark it with a small asterism, and say, Jehu was formerly a hackney coachman. Lady F. I will. You'd oblige me extremely

Care. Sir Paul, hearkye, I'm reasoning the matter, you know.-Madam, if your ladyship pleases, we'll discourse of this in the next room. to write notes to the whole poem. [Exit, with Lady Pliant. Brisk. With all my heart and soul; and Sir P. O ho, I wish you good success; I proud of the vast honour, let me perish. wish you good success!-Boy, tell my lady, Lord F. He, he, he! My dear, have you when she has done, I would speak with her done? Won't you join with us? we were [Exeunt. laughing at my lady Whifler, and Mr. Sneer. Lady F. Ay, my dear, were you? O, filthy Mr. Sneer! he's a nauseous figure, a most Lady F. Then you think that episode be- fulsamic fop, pho! He spent two days totween Susan the dairy-maid, and our coach-gether in going about Coventgarden to man, is not amiss? you know, I may suppose lining of his coach with his complexion. the dairy in town, as well as in the country. Lord F. O, silly! yet his aunt is as fond Brisk. Incomparable, let me perish.-But of him, as if she had brought the ape into then, being an heroic poem, had not you bet- the world herself.

Enter LADY FROTH and BRISK.

it the

ter call him a charioteer? Charioteer sounds Brisk. Who, my lady Toothless? O, she's great; besides, your ladyship's coachman ha-a mortifying spectacle; she's always chewing ving a red face, and you comparing him to the cud, like an old ewe.

the sun-and, you know, the sun is called Cyn. Fie, Mr. Brisk; 'tis eringoes for her

heaven's charioteer.

For as the sun shines ev'ry day, So of our coachman I may sayBrisk. I'm afraid that simile won't do in wet weather, because you say the sun shines every day.

[cough.

Lady F. Then she's always ready to laugh when Sneer offers to speak; and sits in expectation of his no jest, with her mouth open. Brisk. Like an oyster at low ebb, 'egad. Ha, ha, ha!

Lady F. Then that t'other great strapping lady; I can't hit of her name; the old fat fool that paints so exorbitantly.

Brisk. I know whom you mean: but deuce take me, I can't hit of her name neither. Paints, d'ye say? why she lays it on with a Lady F. No, for the sun it won't; but it trowel; then she has a great beard that bristwill do for the coachman; for, you know, les through it, and makes her look as if she there's most occasion for a coach in wet were plastered with lime and hair, let me

weather.

Brisk. Right, right, that saves all.

perish.

Lady F. O, you made a song upon her, Mr. Brisk.

Lady F. Then, I don't say the sun shines all the day; bul, that he peeps now and then: Brisk. He! 'egad, so I did. My Lord can yet he does shine all the day too, you know, sing it. Tis not a song, neither: it's a sort though we don't see him. of an epigram, or rather an epigrammatic sonnet: I don't know what to call it, but it's satire. Sing it, my lord.

Brisk. Right; but the vulgar will never comprehend that.

Lady F. Well, you shall hear-Let me see.
[Reads.

For as the sun shines ev'ry day,
So of our coachman I may say.
He shows his drunken fiery face,
Just as the sun does, more or less.
Brisk. That's right; all's well, all's well-
more or less.

SONG. LORD FROTH.

Ancient Phillis has young graces,
'Tis a strange thing, but a true one;
Shall I tell you how?

She herself makes her own faces,
And each morning wears a new one;
Where's the wonder now?

Lady F. How now?

Tho. Your ladyship's chair is come.
Lady F. Is nurse and the child in it?
Tho. Yes, madam.

Cyn. Well, if the devil should assist her, and your plot miscarry.

Mel. Ay, what am I to trust to then? Cyn. Why, if you give me very clear demonstration that is was the devil, I'll allow for irresistible odds. Here's my mother-in-law, and your friend Careless: I would not have 'em see us together yet. [Exeunt.

as a fine

[Exit Lady F. O the dear creature! let's go see it. Lord F. I swear, my dear, you'll spoil that Enter CARELESS and LADY PLIANT. child with sending it to and again so often; Lady P. I swear, Mr. Careless, you are this is the seventh time the chair has gone very alluring, and say so many fine things, for her to-day. and nothing is so moving to me Lady F. O law, I swear it's but the sixth, thing. Well, I must do you this justice, and and I han't seen her these two hours. The declare in the face of the world, never any poor dear creature! I swear, my lord, you body gained so far upon me as yourself; don't love poor little Sapho. Come, my dear with blushes I must own it, you have shaCynthia; Mr. Brisk, we'll go see Sapho, though ken, as I may say, the very foundation of my my lord won't. honour. Well, sure if I escape your importunities, I shall value myself as long as I live, I swear.

Cyn. I'll wait upon your ladyship.
Brisk. Pray, madam, how old is lady Sapho?
Lord F. Three quarters; but I swear she Care. And despise me.

[Sighing has a world of wit, and can sing a tune al- Lady P. The last of any man in the world, ready. My lord, won't you go? won't you? by my purity; now you make me swear. 0 what, not to see Saph? Pray, my lord, come gratitude, forbid that I should ever be wanting see little Saph. I knew you could not stay, in a respectful acknowledgment of an entire [Exeunt. resignation of all my best wishes, for the person and parts of so accomplished a person, whose merit challenges much more I'm sure than my illiterate praises can description.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-The same.

Enter MELLEFONT and CYNTHIA. Cyn. I heard him loud as I came by the closet-door, and my lady with him: but she seemed to moderate his passion.

Mel. Ay, as gentle breezes moderate a fire; hut I shall counterwork her spells.

Cyn. It's impossible; she'll cast beyond you still. I'll lay my life it will never be a match. Mel. What?

Cyn. Between you and me.

Mel. Why so? I don't know why we should not stea out of the house this moment, and marry one another without consideration or the fear of repentance. Hang fortune, portion, settlements, and jointures.

Cyn. Ay, ay, what have we to do with them? You know we marry for love.

Mel. Love, love, downright, very villanous love.

Cyn. Here then, I give you my promise, in spite of duty, any temptation of wealth, your inconstancy, or my own inclination to change

Mel. To run most wilfully and unreasonably away with me this moment, and be married. Cyn. Hold-never to marry any body else. Mel. That's but a kind of negative consent. Why, you won't balk the frolic?

Care. Ah, heavens, madam, you ruin me with kindness! Your charming tongue pursues the victory of your eyes, while at your feet your poor adorer dies. [In a whining Tone. Lady P. Ah! very fine.

Care. Ah, why are you so fair, so bewitching fair? O let me grow to the ground here, and feast upon that hand! O let me press it to my heart, my trembling heart! the nimble movement shall instruct your pulse, and teach it to alarm desire. [Still whining] I'm almost at the end of my cant, if she does not yield quickly. [Aside.

Lady P. O that's so passionate and fine, I cannot hear it. I am not safe if I stay, and must leave you.

Care. And must you leave me? Rather let me languish out a wretched life, and breathe my soul beneath your feet. I must say the same thing over again, and can't help it.

[Aside.

Lady P. I swear, I'm ready to languish too. O my honour! whither is it going? 1 protest you have given me the palpitation of the heart. Care. Can you be so cruel?

Lady P. O rise, I beseech you; say no more till you rise. Why did you kneel so long? I swear I was so transported, I did not see it. Well, to show you how far you Cyn. If you had not been so assured of have gained upon me, I assure you, if sir your own conduct, I would not. But 'tis but Paul should die, of all mankind there's none reasonable that, since I consent to like a man I'd sooner make my second choice. without the vile consideration of money, he Care. O heaven! I can't outlive this night should give me a very evident demonstration without your favour. I feel my spirits faint, of his wit: therefore let me see you under-a general dampness overspreads my face, a mine my lady Touchwood, as you boasted, cold deadly dew already vents through all my and force her to give her consent, and then-pores, and will to-morrow wash me for ever Mel. I'll do't.

Cyn. And I'll do't.

Mel. This very next ensuing hour of eigh o'clock is the last minute of her reign, unles the devil assist her in propria persona.

from your sight, and drown me in my tomb. Lady P. O, you have conquer'd; sweet, tmelting, moving sir, you have conquered. What sheart of marble can refrain to weep, and yield to such sad sayings?

Cries.

Care. I thank heaven they are the saddest value for, not only for that, but because he has that I ever said [Aside] Oh! a great veneration for your ladyship. Lady P. O! I yield myself all up to your Lady P. O law, no indeed, sir Paul; 'tis uncontrolable embraces. Say, thou dear dying upon your account. man, when, where, and how? Ah, there's sir Paul.

Care. 'Slife, yonder's sir Paul; but if he were not come, I'm so transported I cannot speak. This note will inform you.

[Gives her a Note, and exit.

Re-enter CYNTHIA, with SIR PAUL PLIANT. Sir P. Thou art my tender lambkin, and shalt do what thou wilt; but endeavour to forget this Mellefont,

Cyn. I would obey you to my power, sir; but, if I have not him, I have sworn never to marry.

Sir P. Never to marry! Heaven's forbid! must I neither have sons nor grandsons? must the family of the Pliants be utterly extinct for want of issue male? Oh, impiety! but did you swear? did that sweet creature swear, ha? How durst you swear without my consent, ha? 'Gadsbud, who am I?

Sir P. No, I protest and vow I have no title to his esteem, but in having the honour to appertain in some measure to your ladyship, that's all.

Lady P. O law, now, I swear and declare, it shan't he so; you're too modest, sir Paul. Str P. It becomes me, when there is any Comparison made between

Lady P. O fie, fie, sir Paul, you'll put me out of countenance. Your very obedient and affectionate wife, that's all, and highly honoured in that title.

Sir P. 'Gadsbud, I am transported! Give me leave to kiss your ladyship's little finger. Lady P. My lip indeed, sir Paul; I swear you shall. [He kisses her, and bows very low. Sir P. I humbly thank your ladyship; I don't know whether I fly on ground, or walk in air. 'Gadsbud, she was never thus before. Well, I must own myself the most beholden to Mr. Careless; as sure as can be this is all Cyn. Pray don't be angry, sir; when his doing, something that he has said; well, swore I had your consent; and therefore I'tis a rare thing to have an ingenious friend. Well, your ladyship is of opinion that the match may go forward?

swore.

Sir P. Why then the revoking my consent does annul or make of non effect your oath: so you may unswear it again; the law will allow it.

Cyn. Ay, but my conscience never will. Sir P. Gadsbud, no matter for that; conscience and law never go together; you must not expect that.

Lady P. By all means. Mr. Careless has satisfied me of the matter.

Sir P. Well, why then, lamb, you may keep your oath: but have a care of making rash vows. Come hither to me, and kiss papa.

Lady P. I swear and declare, I am in such a twitter to read Mr. Careless's letter, that { Lady P. Ay, but sir Paul, I conceive, if she can't forbear any longer; but though I may bas sworn, d'ye mark me? if she has once read all letters first by prerogative, yet I'll be sworn, it is most unchristian, inhuman, and sure to be unsuspected this time. [Aside] obscene that she should break it. I'll make Sir Paul.

up the match again, because Mr. Careless said Sir P. Did your ladyship call? it would oblige him. [Aside. Lady P. Nay, not to interrupt you, my Sir P. Does your ladyship conceive so? dear. Only lend me your letter which you Why I was of that opinion once too. Nay, had from your steward to-day: I would look if your ladyship conceives so, I'm of that upon the account again, and may be increase opinion again; but I can neither find iny lord your allowance. nor my lady, to know what they intend.

Cyn. I'm amazed to find her of our side, for I'm sure she loved him.

Sir P. There it is, madam. Do you want

Lady P. I am satisfied that my cousin Mel- a pen and ink? [Bows and gives the Letter. lefont has been much wronged. Lady P. No, no, nothing else, I thank you, sir Paul. So now I can read my own letter [Aside. under the cover of his. [Aside. Lady P. I know my lady Touchwood has Sir P. He! and shall I have a grandson, a no kindness for him; and besides I have been brave chopping boy, to perpetuate the line of informed by Mr. Careless, that Mellefont had the Pliant's? I'll settle a thousand pounds a never any thing more than a profound re- year upon the rogue as soon as ever he spect. That he has owned himself to be my looks me in the face, I will. 'Gadsbud, I hope admirer, 'tis true; but he was never so pre- the young cherub will be like me: I would sumptuous as to entertain any dishonourable no- fain have some resemblance of myself in my tions of things; so that if this be made plain, posterity. Ha, Thy, shouldn't you wish he I don't see how my daughter can in conscience, was like his grand-papa? or honour, or any thing in the world.

Sir P. Indeed if this be made plain, as my lady your mother says, child

Cyn. I'm glad to see you so merry, sir. Sir P. Merry! 'gadsbud, I'm serious; I'll give thee five hundred pounds for every feaLady P. Plain! I was informed of it by ture of him that resembles me. Ah, this eye, Mr. Careless; and I assure you Mr. Careless this left eye! a thousand pounds for this left is a person that has a most extraordinary eye: this has done execution in its time, girl. respect and honour for you, sir Paul. Why thou hast my leer, hussy; just thy faCyn. And for your ladyship too, I believe; ther's leer.-Let it be transmitted to the young or else you had not changed sides so soon. rogue by the help of imagination. Why, 'tis [Aside] Now I begin to find it. the mark of our family, Thy: our house is Sir P. I am much obliged to Mr. Careless distinguished by a languishing eye, as the really; he is a person that I have a great house of Austria is by a thick lip.