ACT II.

Mifs Lucy and Mifs Lydia difcovered.

Lucy. To O us, indeed, who are encumber'd with fathers and mothers, marriage is a convenient business enough.

Lydia. And why on that account, my dear Lucy?

Lucy. As it makes one the entire mistress of one's time, and one is accountable to no mortal for what one fays or does.

Lydia. What, Lucy, not to your husband? Lucy. Nay, don't be prudifh, my dear: you are going back to the days of Queen Befs; who talks now of obedience and duty? ridiculous! her majesty's old fardingale is not more out of fashion.

Lydia.

No!

Lucy. No one reads in books, indeed, of nuptial ties and conjugal love; mere obfolete stuff! modern marriages are mere matters of interest.

Lydia. Interest!

Lucy. Ay, child; for inftance now, Sir Thomas Perkins, our neighbour, finding that Mifs Williams has a good parcel of land, which being contiguous to his eftate, will be very proper for him to poffefs; immediately fends his rent-roll a-courting to her's. The parchments are produced on both fides, and no impediments, that is incumbrance appearing, a couple of lawyers marry the manors together.

D' 2

Lydia.

Lydia. Without the leaft regard to the perfons ?

Lucy. Poo, perfons! they are confider'd, child, as manfion-houses upon the estates, which one lives in, or neglects, just as they happen to be convenient, or not.

Lydia. But fuppofe, Lucy, as in mine, there should happen to be no land in the cafe?

Lucy. Then, child, the bargain is alter'd; you depofit fo much money, and he grants you fuch an annuity; a mere Smithfield bargain, that is all.

Lydia. A pretty picture you give me of marriage! But this is all raillery, Lucy; I am fure you would never fubmit to this barter and fale.

Lucy. I fhould do like the reft of the world. We must take things as we find them. You are not fo foolish as to be fond of Sir James Biddulph, my dear?

Lydia. Fond? the expreffion is ftrong; you muft imagine I prefer him to the rest of

Lucy. Why, as to his appearance, it must be own'd, that the mansion is a pretty modern structure enough, well built, and prettily finifh'd I can't indeed fay, his upper story is furnifh'd quite to my taste.

Lydia. Nay, Lucy, now you are unjuft, the whole world concur in giving him sense.

Lucy. Nay, that article is not very material. If I had him, that is a part of his houfe, with which I fhould hold very little communication, my dear. But, however, you love him?

Lydia. Or I am fure I never would have him.

Lucy.

Lucy. And I fuppofe if any accident was to break off this match, it would make you very unhappy?

Lydia. Can you doubt it, my dear?

Lucy. There is one evil that attends these ridiculous contracts.

Lydia. You don't look upon love then as an effential ingredient?

Lucy. Ha ha! ha! filly and fingular; do you know, Lydia, why Love is always painted as blind?

Lydia. There are many causes affigned by the poets.

Lucy. But not one has given the true one: because the little rogue fhuts our eyes to our interefts.

Lydia. Fye, Lucy, where could you get these narrow and libertine notions?

Lucy. A little more experience will tell you. But here comes Sir Robert; not a word of what has paffed.

Lydia. I fhall, my dear Lucy, for your fake, endeavour to forget all you have faid.

Enter Sir Robert Rifcounter.

Sir Rob. Lucy,, you may go down. [Exit Lucy.] After what has pafs'd, you will not be furpriz'd that I infist upon your immediately quitting my house!

Lydia. Quitting the house, Sir!

Sir Rob. Your fortune is independent and large; you will no doubt be happy in escaping from the obferving eye of a father.-I will be cool, and defire only an answer to a very few queftions. Since the death of your mother (who is happy in having efcap'd the knowledge

of

of this infamous bufinefs) have I been ever wanting in any act of paternal affection?

Lydia. For Heaven's fake, Sir, what can be the meaning of

Sir Rob. Come, no evafions, but anfwer briefly yes, or no, to my questions. Lydia. No, Sir.

Sir Rob. After my firft care to educate you fit for the world, has it not been my principal study to fettle you properly in it?

Lydia. Moft affuredly, Sir.

Sir Rob. And knowing to what temptations girls at your age are expos'd, did I not feek out a man of rank, honour, and fortune, to be your protector and guardian for life?

Lydia. I confefs it.

Sir Rob. Did your ever express the leaft diflike to Sir James Biddulph's address? Lydia. Never.

Sir Rob. How could you then fo far forget what you owe to me, and yourself, as privately to harbour and encourage a paffion

Lydia. I am confounded.

Sir Rob. For an object too unsuitable in every refpect for a mere creature of charity? Lydia. Charity!

Sir Rob. Ay, for it was compaffion to the father's numerous family that induced me to take James into iny house.

Lydia. James! what of him? or what relation, Sir, can he have to me?

Sir Rob. This is aftonishing in a girl of her years. What then, you know nothing of this fellow's affections?

Lydia. For me?

Sir Rob. Aye, for you. No billet-doux, no private meetings, no ftealing into your chamber before the fervants were out of their beds?

Lydia. Amazing! and who, Sir, has dared to infinuate

Sir Rob, Infinuate! why the tale is the talk of the town: all the morning papers are full on't.

Lydia. What can, Sir, be the meaning of this? is it poffible you can think, Sir, your daughter fo abandoned, fo loft

Sir Rob, Hey!

1

Lydia. Recollect, dear Sir, I befeech you, have I, in the whole courfe of my life, ever once dared to deceive you?

Sir Rob. Why, Child, I can't say that you have. But in this cafe, there is fuch pofitive proof.

Lydia. Of what kind, I beseech you?

Sir Rob. Facts, facts, well attested; so don't pretend to deny.

Lydia. Attefted! by whom?

Sir Rob. Their names are needlefs at prefent. But what motive or intereft could any one have to invent, or propagate?

Lydia, None, that I can discover; but, however strong the appearance, if either in thought, word, or deed, there has any thing, either criminal or culpable, paffed between me and

Sir Rob. What, no declarations? no interviews?

Lydia. No more than with any other man in your fervice.

Sir Rob. Aftonishing!