WRITTEN BY A LADY,

SPOKEN BY MRS. CLIVE.

WELL-thank my stars, that I have done my task,

And now throw off this aukward, ideot mask.
Cou'd we fuppofe this circle so refin'd,

Who seek those pleasures that improve the mind,
Cou'd from fuch vulgarifms feel delight;

Or laugh at characters, fo unpolite?

Who come to plays, to fee, and to be feen;
Not to hear things that fhock, or give the spleen;
Who fhun an Opera, when they hear 'tis thin.
"Lord! do you know ?" fays lady Bell-" I'm told
"That Jacky Dapple got fo great a cold

"Laft Tuesday night-there wa'n't a creature there;
"Not a male thing to hand one to one's chair.
"Divine Mingotti! what a fwell has she!

'O! such a Suftinuto upon

B!

"Ma'am, when she's quite in voice fhe'll go to C.
"Lord," fays my lady English-" here's a pother!
"Go where fhe will, I'll never fee another."
Her ladyship, half choak'd with London air,
And brought to town to fee the fights-and ftare.
"Fine finging that!-I'm fure it's more like screaming:
"To me, I vow, they're all a pack of women!
"Oh Barbare!-Inhumana Tramontane!

"Does not this creature come from Pudding Lane?
"Look, look, my lord!-She goggles !-Ha, ha, pray be
quiet;

"Dear lady Bell, for fhame! You'll make a riot.

66

Why will they mix with us to make this rout?

Bring in a bill, my lord, to keep 'em out.

"We'll have a tafte act, faith !"--my lord replied;
"And shut out all, that are not qualified."
Thus ridicule is bounded like a ball,

Struck by the great, then anfwer'd by the fmall;
While we, at times, return it to you

all.

A skilful hand will ne'er your rage provoke;
For though it hits you, you'll applaud the stroke;
Let it but only glance, you'll never frown;

Nay, you'll forgive, tho't knocks your neighbour down.

}

AUTHOR.

ACT I.

Enter Governor Cape, and Robin.

Governor.

AND he believes me dead, Robin?

Rob. Most certainly.

Gov. You have given him no intimation that his fortunes might mend.

Rob.

Not a distant hint.

Gov. How did he receive the news?

Rob. Calmly enough: when I told him that his hopes from abroad were at an end, that the friend of his deceased father thought he had done enough in putting it in his power to earn his own livelihood, he replied 'twas no more than he had long expected; charged me with his warmest acknowledgments to his conceal'd benefactor; thanked me for my care, sigh'd and left me.

Gov. And how has he lived since ?

Rob. Poorly, but honestly: To his pen he owes all his subsistence. I am sure my heart bleeds for him: consider, sir, to what temptations you expose him.

Gov. The severer his trials, the greater his triumph. Shall the fruits of my honest industry, the purchase of many perils, be lavish'd on a lazy luxurious booby, who has no other merit than being born five-and-twenty years after me? No, no, Robin; him, and a profusion of debts were all that the extravagance of his mother left me.

Rob. You loved her, sir.

Gov. Fondly-nay, foolishly, or necessity had not compell'd me to seek for shelter in another climate. 'Tis true, fortune has been favourable to my labours, and when George convinces me that he inherits my spirit, he shall share my property;

not else.

Rob. Consider, sir, he has not your opportunities.

Gov. Nor had I his education.

Rob. As the world goes, the worst you cou'd have given him. Lack-a-day, learning, learning, sir, is no commodity for this market; nothing makes money here, sir, but money; or some certain fashionable qualities that you would not wish your son to possess.

Gov. Learning useless? impossible !-Where are the Oxfords, the Halifaxes, the great protectors and patrons of the liberal arts?

Rob. Patron!-The word has lost its use; a guinea subscription at the request of a lady, whose chambermaid is acquainted with the author, may be now and then pick'd up-protectors!Why I dare believe there's more money laid out upon Islington turnpike in a month, than upon all the learned men in Great Britain in sevenyears.

Gov. And yet the press groans with their productions. How do they all exist?

Rob. In garrets, sir; as, if you will step to your son's apartment in the next street, you will

see.

Gov. But what apology shall we make for the visit?

Rob. That you want the aid of his profession; a well penn'd address now, from the subjects of your late government, with your gracious reply, to put into the news-papers.

Gov. Aye; is that part of his practice? Well, lead on, Robin.

Scene draws and discovers Young Cape with the Printer's Devil.

Cape. Prythee go about thy business-vanish, dear devil.

Devil. Master bid me not come without the proof; he says as how there are two other answers ready for the press, and if your's don't come out a Saturday 'twon't pay for the paper; but you are always so lazy: I have more plague with youThere's Mr. Guzzle, the translator, never keeps me a minute-unless the poor gentleman happens to be fuddled.

Cape. Why, you little sooty, sniv'ling, diabolical puppy, is it not sufficient to be plagu'd with. the stupidity of your absurd master, but I must be pester'd with your impertinence ?

Devil. Impertinence!-marry, come up, I keep as good company as your worship every day in the year- -There's master Clench, in Little Britain, does not think it beneath him to take part of a pot of porter with me, tho' he has wrote two volumes of lives in quarto, and has a folio a coming out in

numbers.

Cape. Harky', sirrah, if you don't quit the room this instant, I'll shew you a shorter way into the street than the stairs.

Devil. I shall save you the trouble-give me the French book that you took the story from for the last journal.

Cape. Take it (throws it at him.)

Devil. What, d'ye think it belongs to the circulating library, or that it is one of your own performances, that you

Cape. You shall have a larger-(Exit Devil. 'Sdeath! a pretty situation I am in! and are these the fruits I am to reap from a long, laborious and expensive