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gue as himself.
Don P. Thal, sir, shall be no lett; I am too sued, and carried with this kind surprise at well acquainted with the virtue of my friend's last, gives me wonder equal to my joy. title, to entertain a thought that can disturb it. Hyp. Here's one that at more leisure shall
Hyp. Now, sir, it only stops at you. inform you all: she was ever a friend to your
Don M. Well, sir, I see the paper is only love, has bad a hearty share in the fatigue, conditional, and since the general welfare is and now I am bound in honour to give her concern'd, I won't refuse to lend you my help- part of the garland too. ing band to it; but if you should not make Don P. How! she! your words good, sir, I hope you won't take Flora. Trusty Flora, sir, at your service! I it ill if a man should poison you.
have bad many a battle with my lady upon Don P. And, sir, let me too warn you how your account; but I always told ber we should you execute this promise; your flattery and do her business at last. dissembled penitence bas deceiv'd me once Don M. Another metamorphosis! Brave girls, already, which makes me, I confess, a little faith! Odzooks, we sball bave 'em make camslow in my belief ; therefore lake heed, expect paigns shortly. no second mercy! for be assured of this, I Don P. In Seville I'll provide for thee. never can forgive a villain.
Hyp. Nay, here's another accomplice too, Hyp. If I am proved one spare me nol--I confederate I can't say; for honest Trappanti ask but this-Cse me as you find me. did not know but that I was as great a ro
Don P. That you may depend on.
Trap. It's a folly to lie; I did not indeed, [Gives Hypolila the Writing, signed. madam.—But the world cannot say I have Hyp. And now, don Philip, I confess you been a rogue to your ladyship- and if you are the ovly injured person here.
had not parled with your moneyDon P. I know not thai-do my friend right, Hyp. 'Thou hadst not parted with thy honesty. and I shall easily forgive thee.
Trap. Right, madam; but how should a Hyp. His pardon, with his thanks, I am poor naked fellow resist when he had so many sure I shall deserve: but how shall I forgive pistoles held against him? Shows Money myself? Is there in nature left a means ihat Don M. Ay, ay, well said, lad. can repair the shameful slights, the insults, Vil. Ea? A tempting bail indeed! let him and the long disquiets you bave known from offer to marry me again if he dares. [Aside. love?
Don P. Well, Trappanti, thou hast been Don P. Let me understand thee.
serviceable, however, and I'll think of thee. Hyp. Esamine well your heart, and if the Oct. Nay, I am bis debtor too. fierce resentment of its wrongs has not extin- Trap. Ab! there's a very easy way, genguished quite the usual soft compassion there, tlemen, to reward me; and since you partly revive at least one spark in pily of my wo-owe your happiness to my roguery, I should man's weakness.
be very proud to owe mine only to your geDon P. Whither wouldst thou carry me? Oct. As how, pray?
(nerosity. Hyp. The extravagant attempt I have this Trap. Wby, si', 'I find by my constitution, day run through to meet you thus, justly may that it is as natural to be in love as to be hunsubject me to your contempt and scorn, unless gry, and that I han't a jot less stomach than the same forgiving goodness that used to over-the best of my belters; and though I have oftlook the failings of Hypolita, prove still my en thought a wife but dining every day upon friend, and solien all with the excuse of love. the same dish; yetmethinks it's better than [All seem amazed] O Philip—Hypolita is- no' dinner at all. Upon which considerations, yours for ever. [They advance slowly, and gentlemen and ladies, I desire you'll use your
at last rush into one another's Arms. interest with Madona here—To admit me into Don P. It is, it is, Hypolita! And yet 'tis ber good graces. she! I know her by the busy pulses at my Don M. A pleasant rogue, faith! Odzooks, heart, which only love like mine can feel, and the jade shall' bave him. Come, bussy, be's she alone can give. [Embraces her eagerly. an ingenious person.
Don M. Have I then been pleased, and pla- Vil. Sir, I don't understand his stuff; when gued, and frighted out of my wits, by a wo-be speaks plain I know what to say to him. man all this wbile? Odshud, she is a notable Trap. Why then, in plain terms, let me a contriver! Stand clear, ho! For if I have not lease for life.—Marry me. a fair brush at her lips; nay, if she does not Vil. Ay, now you say something - I was give me the hearly smack too, odds-winds and afraid, by what you said in the garden, you ihunder, she is not the good-humour'd girl I bad only a mind to be a wicked tenant at will. take her for.
Trap. No, no, child, I have no mind to be Hyp. Come, sir, I won't balk your good turn d 'out at a quarter's warning. bumour. [He kisses her] And now I have a l'il. Well, there's my band-And now meet favour to beg of you; you remember your me soon as you will with a canonical promise: only your blessing bere, sir. lawyer, and I'll give you possession of the Don M. Abi | Octavio and Rosara kneel. rest of the premises.
can deny thee nothing; and Don M. Odzooks, and well thought of, 1991 so, children, beaven bless ye together–And send for one presently. Here, you, sirrah, run now my cares are over again.
to father Benedick again, tell him his work Oct. We'll study to deserve your love, sir. don't bold here, his last marriage is dropp*c]
Don P. My friend successful too! Then my to pieces; but now we have goi better tackle joys are double, But how this generous af- he must come and stitch two or three fresh tempt was started first, how it has been pur-couple together as fast as he can.
Don P. Now, my Hypolita!
10! never let a virtuous mind despair, Let our example teach mankind to love; For constant hearts are love's peculiar care. From thine the fair their favours may improve:
GEORGE COLMAN Wa the sea of Francis Colman, Esq., His Majesty's resident at the court of the Grand Dule of Tuscany al Floreace, by a sister of the Countess of Bach, Не was born at Florence about 1753, and had the honour of having king Gearge ihe Second for his godfather. He received his education at Westminster School, where he very early showed La poetical aleats. The first performance by him was a copy of verses addressed to his cousin Lord Pulleney, writto an the year 1717, while he was at Westminster, and since printed in The St. 'ume's Magazine, a work published by da vafortense friend, Robert Lloyd. From Westminster School be removed 10 Oxford, and became a student of (sušurch. It was there, at a very early age, that he engaged with his friend Bonnel Thornton, in publishing The Csawisdear, a periodical paper which appeared once a week, and was continued from Jan. 51. 1754. to Sepl. 50. 1756, When the age of the writers of this entertaining paper is considered, the wit and hunour, the spirit, the good sense and abrend observations on life and manners, with which it abounds, will excite some degree of wonder; bat will, al the same tist, evidently point out the extraordinary talents which were afterwards to be more fully displayed in The Jeclou Wife and The Clandestine Marriage. The recomniendation of his friends, or his chvice, but probably tho ferter, induced him to fix upon the law for his profession; and was accordingly entered at Lincoln's Inn, and in due Hasan called to the bar. He altended there a very short time; though, if our recollection does not mislead us, be was teen efter etongh in the courts to prevent the supposition of his abanduning the profession merely for want of encouragement
. On the 18th of March 1758, he took the degree ef Master of arts at Oxford; and in the year 1760 his first drumatic piece, Polly Honeycomb, was acted at Drury Lane, with great success. For several years before, the comic Muse mened to have relinquished the stage, No comedy bad been produced al either theatre since the year 1951, wbes Vare's Gil Blas was with diffeully performed nine nigls. In July 1764 Lord Bath died; and on that event #r. Celmu found himself in circumstances fully sufficient to enable him to follow the bent of his genius. The first peálicatiza which he produced, after this period, was a translation in blank verse of the comedies of Terence, 1705; ad w baever would wish to see the spirit of an aucient bard transfused into the English language, must look for it
H. (olman's version. The successor of Lord Bath, General Pulteney, died in 1907; and Mr. Colman again found bisxli remembered in his will, by a second annuity, which confirmed the independency of his fortune,
He seems, brever, to bsre felt no charms in an idle life; as, in 1967, he uniied with Messrs. Härris, Rutherford, and Powell, in the parchase of Covent Garden Theatre, and took upon himself the laborious office of acting manager, Alter conti20ļ manager of Covent Garden Theatre seven years, Mr. Colman_sold his share and interest therein to Mr. James Leate, care of bis then partners; and, in 1977, purchased of Mr. Foote the Little Theatre in the Haymarket. The estimula ia which the entertainments exhibited under his direction were held by the public, the reputation which Ise theairs squired, and the continual concourse of the polile world during the height of summer, sufliciently spoke the press of 'Mr. Colman's management. Indeed, it has been long admilied, that no person, since the death of 'Mr. Garrt, was so able to superintend the entertainments of the stage as the subject of this account. About the year 1985 Hr. Coinsa gave the public a new translation of, and commentary on, Ilorace's Art of Poetry; in which he produced *** files to explain this very difficult foem. In opposition to Dr. Hurd, he supposed, “llial one of the sons of Pue, redoubtedly the elder, hat either written or mediated a poctical work, most probably a tragedy; and tha: le bad, sul the knowledge of the family, communicated his piece or intention to Horace. But Horace either dissaproving of the work, or doubting of the poetical faculties of the elder Piso, or both, wished to dissuade him from all ihoughi de publication. With this view he formed the design of writing this epistle; addressing it, with a conrtliness and deliems perfcetiy agrecable to his acknowledged character, indifferently to the whole family, the father and his two sons, Epatola ed Pisones de arte Puetica.” This hypothesis is supported with much learning, ingenuity, and modesty; and, i pa! falls established, is at least as well entitled to applause as that adupled by the Bishop of Worcester. On the pabuma of the Horace, the Bishop said to Dr. Douglas, “ Give my compliments to Colmau, and thank him for the baadae manner in
he has treated me; and tell him, that I think he is righo" Mr. Colman diod al Paddi # tt sath of August 1794, at the age of 62. A few hours before his death he was seized with violeat spasins; and le were succeeded by a melancholy slupor, in which he drew his last breath.
THE JEALOUS WIFE,
(ta. by Geo. Colmau, 1761. This piece made ils appearance at Drury Lane with prodigious success. The ground*** of it is derived from Fielding's History of Tum Jones, at the period of Sophia's taking refuge at Lady Bellaston's 2. The characters borrowed from that work, however, only serve as a kind of under plot to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Oakley, viz, tbe Jealous Wife and her husband, It must be confessed, that the passions of the lady are liere worked Winery great height; and Mr. Oakley's vexalinn and domestic misery, in consequence of her behaviour, are very sressly supported, Yel, perhaps, the author would have beller answered his purpose with respect to the passion he intereed is expose the absurdity of, had he made her appear somewhat less of the virago, and Mr. Oaklıy pol so much be beperked husband; since she now appears rather a lady, who, from a cousciousness of her own power, is de
supporting the appearance of jealousy, to procure her an indue influence over her husband and family, than $32, obu, feeling the reality of that turbulent yet diluctuating passion, tecomes equally absurd in the suddenness of forming w;aut suspicions, and in that hasliness of being satisfied, which love, the only true basis of jealousy, will constantly Betstide, When this play was originally acted, ii was remarked, that the scene of Mrs. Oakley's hysteric fits borca seu resemblance to the like situation of Mrs. Termagant in The Squire of Alsatia. Mr. Colman has been accused of missuger in calling it The Jealous Wife; Mrs. Oakley being totally destitute of that delicacy, which some consider pecesary to constilate jealousy. Many exceptions might be taken 10 the characters in this piece-hal of Lady Freclovú is perhaps too odiow for the stage, while that of Captain O'Culler does liule hunour to the navya The play, howker, upon the whole, boasis more than an ordinary share of merit.
LORD TRINKET. JOHN. MRS. OAKLY.
TOM. LADY FREELOVE.
ber miseries. How unfortunate a woman am ACT I.
I!-I could die with vexation Scene. I.-A Room in Oakly's House.
[Throwing herself into a Chair.
Ouk. There it is-Now dare not I stir a [Noise heard within. step further–If I offer to go, she is in one of Mrs. 0. [Within] Don't tell me- -I know her fits in an instant-Never sure was woit is so-It's monstrous, and I will not bear it. man al once of so violent and so delicate a Oak. [Within] But, my dear! -
constitution! What shall I say to sooth her? Mrs. O. Nay, nay, etc. (Squabbling within. [ Aside]Nay, never make thyself so uneasy, Enter Mrs. Oakly, with a Letler, followed my dear-Come, come, you know I love you:
Mrs. 0. I know you hale me; and that your by Oakly.
unkindness and barbarity will be the death of Mrs. O. Say what you will, Mr. Oakly, you me.
(Whining; sball never persuade 'me but this is some filthy Oak. Do not ves yourself at this rate-1 intrigue of yours.
love you most passionately-Indeed I doOak. I can assure you, my love
This must be some mistake,
[Weeping. relating to this letter.
Oak. Dry up thy tears, my love, and be Oak. How can I tell you, when you will comforted! You will end that I am not to not so much as let me see it?
blame in this matter-Come, let me see this Mrs. O. Look you, Mr. Oakly, this usage letter-Nay, you shall not deny me. is not to be borne. You take a pleasure in
[Takes the Letter, abusing my tenderness and soft disposition.-I. Mrs. 0. There! take it; you know the band, To be perpetually running over the whole I am sure. town, nay, the whole kingdom too, in pursuit Oak. [Reads] To Charles Oakly, Esq.of your amours ! - Did not I discover that Hand! 'Tis a clerk-like hand, a good round you was great with mademoiselle, my own text! and was certainly never penned by a woman ?-Did not you contract a shameful fair lady. familiarity with Mrs. Freeman?- Did not I Mrs. O. Ay, laugh at me, do! delect your intrigue with lady Wealthy?- Oak. Forgive me, my love, I dit not mean Was not you
to laugh at thee – But what says the letter? Oak. Oons! madam, the grand Turk him- [Reads] Daughter eloped - you must be self has not half so many mistresses-Yo throw prioy to it-scandalous-dishonourable-same out of all patience-Do I know any body tisfaction-revenge-um, um, um- injured but our common friends?-Am I visited by father.
IIENRY RUSSET. any body that does not visit you?-Do I ever Mrs. 0. [Rising] Well, sir-you see I have go out, unless you go with me?—And am I detected you—Tell me this instant where she not as constantly by your side as if I was is concealed. tied to your apron-strings ?
Oak. So - so - so — This hurts me-I'm Mrs. O. Go, go; you are a false man-Have shocked.
[To himself: pot I found you out a thousand times? And Mrs. 0. What, are you confounded with have not I this moment a letter in my hand, your guilt? Have I caught you at last ? which convinces me of your baseness?-Let Oak. O that wicked °Charles! To decoy a me know the whole affair, or I will- young lady from her parents in the couniry!
Oak. Let you know! Let me know what'she profligacy of the young fellows of this you would have of me - You slop my letter age is abominable.
[To himself. before it comes to my hands, and then expect Mrs. 0. [Half aside, and musing] Charthat I should know the contents of it! les!-Let me see! -Charles!-No!-Impossible!
Mrs. O. Heaven be praised, I stopped it! - This is all a trick. I suspected some of these doings for some Oak. He has certainly ruined this poor lady. time past-But the letter informs me wl..) she
[To himself. is, and I'll be revenged on her sufficiently.
Mrs.0. Art! art! all art! There's a sudden Ob, you base man, you!
turn now! You have ready wit for an intriOak. I beg, my dear, that you would mo-gue, I find. derate your passion!-Show me the letter, Oak. Such an abandoned action! I wish I and rll convince you of my innocence. had never bad the care of him.
Mrs. 0. Innocence! - Abonimable! - Inno- Mrs. O. Mighty fine, Mr. Oakly! Go on, cence-But I am not to be made such a fool sir, go on! I see what you mean.—Your as-I am convinced of your perfidy, and very surance provokes me beyond your very false sure that
. So you imaginc, sir, that this afOak. 'Sdeath and fire! your passion hurries sected concern, this flimsy pretence about you out of your senses- -Will you hear me? Charles, is to bring you off. Matchless conMrs. O. No, you are
a base man: and 1 fidence! But I am armed against every thing will not hear you.
-I am prepared for all your dark schemes: Oak. Why then, my dear, since you will I am aware of all your low stratageins. neither talk reasonably yourself, nor listen to
Oak. See there now! Was ever any thing reason from me, I shall take my leave till so provoking? To persevere in your ridicuyou are in a better humour. So your servant! lous-For hearen's sake, my dear, don't dis
[Going. tract me. When you see my mind thus agiMrs. O. Ay, go, you cruel man!-Go to tated and uneasy, that a young fellow, whom your mistresses, and leave your poor wife to his dying father, my own brother, committed
to my care, should be guilty of such enor
or-think the whole family is made of nothing but mous wickedness; I say, when you are wit- combustibles. Dess of my distress on this occasion, how can Oak. I like this emotion; it looks well: it you be weak enough and cruel enough to- may serve too to convince my wife of the
Mrs. 0. Prodigiously well, sir! You do it folly of her suspicions. Would to heaven I very well. . Nay, keep it up, carry it on; could quiet them for ever! there's nothing like going through with it. o Maj.o. Why pray now, my dear, naughty you artful creature! But, sir, I am not to be brother, what heinous offence have you comso easily satisfied. I do not believe a syllable mitted this morning? Wbat new cause of of all this - Give me the letter—[Snatches the suspicion? You bave been asking one of the Letter) You shall sorely repent this vile bu- maids to mend your ruffle, I suppose, or have siness, for I am resolved that I will know the been hanging your head out at the window, boltom of it.
[E.cit. when a pretty young woman has passed by, Oak. This is beyond all patience. Provok-oring woman! Hler absurd suspicions interpret Oak. How can you trifle with my distresses, every thing the wrong way. "But this ungra- major? Did not I tell you it was about a cious boy? In how many troubles will he letter? involve bis own and his lady's family!-I ne- Maj. 0. A letter !-hum-A suspicious cirver imagined that he was of such abandoned cumstance, to be sure! What, and the seal principles.
a truelover's knot now, bey? or a heart trans
fixed with darts; or possibly the wax bore Enter MAJOR OAKLY and Charles.
the industrious impression of a thimble; or Charles. Good morrow, sir!
perhaps the folds were lovingly connected by Maj.0). Good morrow, brother, good mor- à wafer, pricked with a pin, and the direction row! - What! you have been at the old work, written in a vile scrawl, and not a word spelt I find. I heard you-ding! dong! i'faith!- as it should be! ha, ha, ha! Sbe has rung a noble peal in your ears. But Oak. Pooh! brother - Whatever it was, the how Dow? Why sure you've bad a remark- letter, you find, was for Charles, not for me able warm bout on't.—You seem more ruffled -- this outrageous jealousy is the devil. than usual.
Maj. 0. Mere matrimonial blessings and Oak. I am, indeed, brother! Thanks to that domestic comfort, brother! jealousy is a ceryoung gentleman there. Have a care, Charles! lain sign of love. you may be called to a severe account for Oak. Lore! it is this very love that hath this. The bonour of a family, sir, is no such made us both so miserable. Her love for me haght matter.
has confined me to my house, like a state Charles. Sir!
prisoner, without the liberty of seeing my Maj. 0. Hey-day! What, has a curtain lec- friends, or the use of pen, ink, and paper; tere produced a lecture of morality? What while my love for her has made' such a fool is all this?
of me, that I have never had the spirit to Oak. To a prosligate mind, perhaps, these contradict her. things may appear agreeable in the beginning. Maj. 0. Ay, ay, there you've hit it, Mrs. But don't you tremble at the consequences? Oaklý would make an excellent wise, if you
Charles. I see, sir, that you are displeased did but know how to manage her, with me; but I am quile at a loss to guess Oak. You are a rare fellow indecd to talk at the occasion.
of managing a wifc-A debauched bachelor Oak. Tell me, sir !-where is miss Harriot --a rattle-brained, rioting fellow—who have Rosset?
picked up your commonplace notions of Charles. Miss Harriot Russet!-Sir-Explain. women in bagnios, taverns, and the camp; Oak Hare not you decoyed her from her whose most refined commerce with the sex biber?
has been in order to delude country girls at Charles. 1!- Decoyed her --- Decoyed my your quarters, or to besiege the virtue of abiQuot!-I would sooner die than do her the gails, inilliners, or mantua-makers' 'prentices. lad injury-What can this mean?
Maj. O. So much the better!-so inuch the Maj. O. I believe the young dog has been better! women are all alike in the main, at ber, af.er all.
brother, high or low, married or single, quality or Ook I was in hopes, Charles, you had better no quality. I have fonnd them so, from a duchess priecples. But there's a letter just come from down to a milk-maid; every woman is a tyber bauen
rant at the bottom. But they could never make Charles. A letter! What better? Dear sir, a fool of me.-No, no! no woman should give it me. Some intelligence of my Harriot, ever domineer over me, let ber be mistress major -The letter, sir, the letter this mo- or wise. bent, for beaven's sake!
Oak. Single men can be no judges in these Oak. If this warmth, Charles, tends to prove cases. They must happen in all families. But Tour innocence
when things are driven to extremities—to see Charles. Dear sir, excuse me — I'll prove a woman in uneasiness -a woman one loves any thing-Let me but see this letter, and I'll — 100-one's wife-who can withstand it? You
Oek. Let you see it!-I could hardly get a peither speak nor think like a man that has sigbt of it myself. Mrs. Oakly has it. loved and been married, major!
Charles. Has she got it? Major, I'll be with Maj. 0. I wish I could hear a married mau sua agaia directly.
[Exit hastily, speak my language-I'm a bachelor, it's true; Maj. 0. Hey-day! The devil's in the boy! but I am no bad judge of your case for all What a fery set of people! By my troth, i that. I know yours and Mrs. Oakly's disposition to a bair. She is all' impetuosity and my study. I'll go and steal them out, while fire-a very magazine of touchwood and gun- she is busy talking with Charles. powder. You are hot enough too, upon oc- Maj. 0. Steal them! for shame! Pr’ytbee casion, but then it's over in an instant. In take them boldly; call for them! make them comes love and conjugal affection, as you call bring them to you here; and go out with it; that is, mere folly and weakness—and you spirit, in the face of your wbole family. draw off your forces, just when you should Oak. No, no--you are wrong-let ber rave pursue the attack, and follow your advantage. after I am gone, and when I return, you know, Have at her with spirit, and the day's your I shall exert myself with more propriety, after own, brother.
this open affront to her authority. Oak. Why, what would you have me do? Maj. O. Well, take your own way. Maj. 0. Do as you please for one month, Oak. Ay, ay—let me manage it, let me mawhether she likes it or not: and I'll answer nage it.
[Exit. for it she will consent you shall do as you Maj. 0. Manage it! ay, to be sure, you please all her life after. In short, do but show are a rare manager! It' is dangerous, they yourself a man of spirit, Jeave off whining say, to meddle between man and wife. I am about love and tenderness, and nonsense, and no great favourite of Mrs. Oakly's already; the business is done, brother.
and in a week's time I expect to bare the Oak. I believe you are in the right, major! door shut in my teeth. I see you are in the right. I'll do it-r'll cer
Enter CHARLES. tainly do it.- But then it hurts me to the How now, Charles, what news? soul, to think what uneasiness I shall give ber. Charles. Ruined and undone! She's gone, The first opening of my design will throw uncle! my Harriot's lost for ever. her into fits, and the pursuit of it, perhaps, Maj. O. Gone off with a man ?-I thought may be fatal.
so; they are all alike. Maj. 0. Fits! ba, ha, ha!--I'll engage to Charles. Oh no! Fled to avoid that bateful cure her of her fits
. Nobndy understands by- match with sir Harry, Beagle. sterical cases better than I do; besides, my Maj.0. Faith, a girl of spirit; but whence sister's symptoms are not very dangerous. Did comes all this intelligence? you ever hear of her falling into a fit when Charles. In an angry letter from her father you was not by ? — Was she ever found in -How miserable I am! If I had not offendconvulsions in her closet?-No, no, these fits, edmy Marriot, much offended her, by that the more care you take of them, the more foolish riot and drinking at your bouse in the you will increase the distemper: let them country, she would certainly, at such a time, alone, and they will wear themselves out, I have taken refuge in my arms. warrant you.
Maj. O. A very agreeable reluge for a young Oak. True, very true-you are certainly in lady to be sure, and extremely decent! the right-l'll follow your advice. Where do Charles. What a heap of extravagancies you dine to-day?-l's order the coach, and was I guilty of! go with you.
Maj 0. Extravagancies with a witness! Ah, Maj. 0. O brave! keep up this spirit, and you silly young dog, you would ruin youryou are made for erer.
self with her father, in spite of all I could do. Oak. You shall see now, major!-Who's There you sat, as drunk as a lord, telling the there?
old gentleman the whole affair, and swearing
you would drive sir Harry Beagle out of the Enter Servant.
country, though I kept winking and nodding, Order the coach directly. I shall dine out pulling you by the sleeve, and kicking your to-day.
shins under ihe table, in hopes of slopping Sero. The coach, sir?--Now, sir? you; but all to no purpose. Oak. Ay, now, immediately.
Charles. What distress may she be in at Serv. Now, sir!- the-the-coach, sir?- this instant! Alone and defenceless !-Where, that is my mistress
where can she be? Maj. o.' Sirrah! do as you are bid. Bid Maj. O. What relations or friends has she them put to this instant.
in town? Sero. Ye-yes, sir--yes, sir.
Charles. Relations! let me see.- Faith, I Oak. Well, where shall we dine ? have it!--If she is in town, ten to one but
Maj. 0. At the St. Albans, or where you she is at her aunt's, lady Freelove's. will
. This is excellent; if you do but hold it. thither immediately. Oak. I will have my own way, I am de- Maj. 0. Lady Freelove's! Hold, hold, Chartermined.
les!-do you know her ladyship? Maj. 0. That's right.
Charles. Not much! but I'll break througb Oak. I am steel.
all, to get to my Harriot, Maj. O. Braro!
Maj. 0. I do know her ladyship. Oak. Adamant.
Charles. Well, and what do you know Maj.0. O Bravissimo!
of her? Oak. Just what you'd have me.
Maj. 0. O, nothing! -Her ladyship is Maj. O. Why that's well said. But will you woman of the world, ihat's alldo it?
Charles. What do you mean? Oak. I will.
Maj. 0. That lady Freelove is an arrantMaj. 0. You won't.
By-the by, did not she, last summer, make for Oak. I will. I'll be a fool to her no longer. mal proposals to Harriot's father frorn los But harkye, major, my hat and cané lie in Trinket?