dies, who had rather still be deluded, and will | voice, if I am not more sincere in my affection hate your friendship for breaking the charm? for this little finger, than for all the sex besides. [The ladies seem astonished. Tuke. Except the widow Damply. Duf. She! Do you know her, madam? Tuke. I have not that honour. Ara. My dear cousin, though you are satisfied, these ladies are not; and, if they have their particular reasons for their infidelity, pray, let them enjoy it, 'till they have other proofs than your prejudices. Sop. Ay, Bell, we have all our prejudices, Tuke. What signifies reasoning, when we are going upon the experiment? Dispose of yourselves behind those trees, and I will repair to the place of appointment, and draw him hither; but you promise to contain yourselves, let what will happen. Hear, and see; but be silent [Exit TUKELY. Sop. A severe injunction, indeed, ladies-But I must to my post. [Erit Sop. Mrs Damp. If he's a villain, I can never hold! Lady Pew. I shall tear his eyes out! Mrs Dot. For my part, if I was unmarried, I should not think him worth my anger. Ara. But as you are, madam Mrs Dot. I understand your insinuations, Miss Bell; but my character and conduct need no justification. Ara. I beg pardon, madam; I intended no offence. But haste to your posts, ladies; the enemy's at hand. [They retire behind the trees. Enter TUKELY and DAFFODIL. Tuke. [In a woman's voice.] For Heaven's sake, let us be cautious!I am sure I heard a noise. Daf. 'Twas nothing but your fear, my angel! -don't be alarmed-There can be no danger, while we have love and darkness to befriend us. Tuke. Bless me, how my heart beats! Daf. Poor soul! what a fright it is in! You must not give way to these alarms- -Were you as well convinced of my honour, as I am of your charms, you would have nothing to fear[Squeezes her hand. [Aside. [Aside. Ara. Upon my word!Mrs Damp. So, so, so! Tuke. Hold, sir; you must take no libertiesBut, if you have the least feeling for an unhappy woman, urged by her passion to this imprudent step, assist me-forgive me-let me go. Daf. Can you doubt my honour? Can you doubt my love? What assurances can I give you to abate your fears? Daf. I thought so-Did you never see her, madain, nodling and gogling in her old-fashioned heavy chariot, drawn by a pair of lean hackney horses, with a fat blackamoor footman behind, in a scanty livery, red greasy stockings, and a dirty turban? [The widow seems disordered. Tuke. All which may be only a foil to her beauty. [Sighs. Daf. Beauty! don't sigh, madam; she is past forty, wears a wig, and has lost two of her fore teeth. -And, then, she has so long a beard upon her upper lip, and takes so much Spanish snuff, that she looks, for all the world, like the Great Mogul in petticoats; ha, ha— Mrs Damp. What falsehood and ingratitude! [Aside. Tuke. Could I descend to the slander of the town, there is a married lady Daf. Poor Mrs Dotterel, you mean?- Mrs Damp. Nay, nay; you must have your share of the panegyric. Tuke. She is young, and has wit. Daf. She's an idiot, madam; and as fools are generally loving, she has forgot all her obligations to old Mr Dotterel, who married her without a petticoat; and now seizes upon every young fellow she can lay her hands upon---she has spoiled me three suits of clothes, with tearing the flaps and sleeves. Ha, ha, ha! Mrs Dot. Monster of iniquity! Daf. She has even stormed me in my own house; but, with all my faults, madam, you'll never find me over-fond of age, or ignorance. Mrs Damp. I could tear him to pieces! Mrs Dot. I will tear him to pieces! Ara. Be quiet, and we'll all tear him to pieces. Tuke. He has swallowed the hook, and can't [Aside. escape. Daf. What do you say, madam? Daf. Fond creature! [Aside.] I know there are a thousand stories about me: You have heard, too, of Lady Fanny Pewit, I suppose? Don't be alarmed. Tuke. I can't help it, sir. She is a fine woman, and a woman of quality. Mrs Dot. Very slender ones, I can assure her. [Aside. Tuke. I deserve to suffer all I feel-For Daf. A fine woman, perhaps, for a woman of what, but the most blinded passion, could induce quality-but she is an absolute old maid, madam, me to declare myself to one, whose amours and almost as thick as she is long-middle-aged, infidelities are the common topic of conversa-homely, and wanton! That's her character. tion! Daf. Flattering creature! [Aside.]——May I never know your dear name, see your charming face, touch your soft hand, or hear your sweet Lady Pew. Then, there is no sincerity in man. [Going. Ara. Positively, you shan't stir. She is now upon her last legs. If she does not run away with some foolish gentleman this winter, she'll return into the country, and marry her footman, ha, ha, ha! Lady Pew. My footman shall break his bones, I can tell him that. Daf. Hush, madam! I protest, I thought I heard a voice-I wonder they don't come. [Aside. Tuke. 'Twas only I, Mr Daffodil-I was murmuring to you. [Sighs. Daf. Pretty murmurer!-'Egad, if they don't come soon, the lady will grow fond. Aside. Tuke. But among your conquests, Mr Daffodil, you forget Miss Sophy Sprightly. Daf. And her cousin Arabella.-I was coming to them; poor, silly, good-natured, loving fools! I made my addresses to one through pique, and the other for pity; that was all. Tuke. O, that I could believe you! Daf. Don't be uneasy! I'll tell how it was, you madam-You must know, there is a silly, selfsufficient fellow, one Tukely So I Tuke. So, so.-[Aside.]-I know him a little. Daf. I am sorry for it-The less you know of him, the better; the fellow pretended to look fierce at me, for which I resolved to have his mistress: So I threw in my line, and without much trouble, hooked her. Her poor cousin, too, nibbled at the bait, and was caught. have had my revenge upon Tukely, and now I shall willingly resign poor Sophy, and throw him in her cousin, for a make-weight, ha, ha, ha! Lady Pew. This is some comfort, at least. Ard. Your ladyship is better than you was. [Noise without. Tuke. I vow, I hear a noise.-What shall we do? It comes this way. Daf. They can't see us, my dear.-I wish my friends would come. [Aside.] Don't whisper, or breathe. Enter SOPHIA, in a surtout, and slouched hat. Sop. If I could but catch her at her pranks-she certainly must be this way-for the chair is waiting at the end of Rosamond's pond-I have thrown one of her chairmen into it—and, if I could but catch her Daf. For your sake, madam, I'll make the best of my way home[Going. Tuke. What! would you leave me to the fury of an enraged husband!-Is that your affection! [Holds him. Sop. If I could but catch her-Ha! what's that? I saw something move in the dark—the point of my sword shall tickle it out, whatever it is. [Draws, and goes towards them. Tuke. For Heaven's sake draw, and fight him, while I make my escape! Daf. Fight him! 'twould be cowardly to fight in the dark, and with a drunken man-I'll call the sentry. Tuke. And exp: se us to the world? Daf. I would to Heaven we were! [Aside. He comes forward.] Let me go, madam; you pinch me to the bone. on. Tuke. He won't know us-I have my mask Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! Sop. What, is the devil and his imps playing at blind man's buff? Ay, ay; here he is, indeed; Satan himself, dressed like a fine gentleman-Come, Mr Devil, out with your pitchfork, and let us take a thrust or two. Daf. You mistake me, sir, I am not the person; indeed, I am not; I know nothing of your wife, sir George; and if you know how little I care for the whole sex, you would not be so furious with an innocent man. Sop. Who are you, then? And what are you doing with that blackamoor lady there—dancing a saraband with a pair of castanets? Speak, sir! Daf. Pray forbear, sir; here's company coming that will satisfy you in every thing-Hallo, halloHere, here, here! [Hallo's faintly.] my lord, my lord-Spinner-Dizzy-Hallo! Enter LORD RACKET, SIR TANTIVY, SPINNER, and Dizzy, with torches. Lord Rac. What's the matter here?-Who calls for help? Daf. [Running to them with his sword drawn.] O, my friends, I have been wishing for you this half hour! I have been set upon by a dozen felTuke. O, sir! my passion has undone_me-Ilows-They have all made their escape, but this am discovered; it is my husband, sir George, My arm is quite dead-I have been at cart and he is looking for me! and tierce with them all, for near a quarter of an hour. Daf. The devil it is! Why, then, madam, the best way will be for you to go to him-and let me sneak off the other way. Tuke. Go to him, sir! What can I say to him? Daf. Any thing, madam-Say you had the vapours, and wanted air. Tuke. Lord, sir! he is the most passionate of mortals; and I am afraid he is in liquor, too; and, then, he is mad! Sop. If I could but catch her [Looking about. you murder a man, and lie with his wife, too?Oh! you are a wicked gentleman, Mr Daffodil. [Attacks DAFFODIL. Daf. Why, the devil's in the woman, I think! [All the ladies advance from behind. Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! your humble servant, Mr Daffodil-ha, ha, ha! [Curtsying. Daf. This is all enchantment! Lady Pew. No, sir, the enchantment is broke; aud the old maid, sir, homely and wanton, before she retires into the country, has the satisfaction of knowing that the agreeable Mr Daffodil is a much more contemptible mortal, than the footman which his goodness has been pleased to marry her to. Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! Mrs Dump. Would Mr Daffodil please to have a pinch of Spanish snuff out of the great mogul's box? 'Tis the best thing in the world for low spirits. [Offers her box. Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! Mrs Dot. If a fool may not be permitted to speak, Mr Daffodil, let her at least be permitted to laugh at so fine a gentleman-Ha, ha, ha! Ara. Were you as sensible of shame, as you are of fear, the sight of me, whom you loved for pity, would be revenge sufficient-But I can forgive your baseness to me, much easier than I can myself, for my behaviour to this happy couple. Daf. Who the devil are they? Ara. The marquis and marchioness of Macaroni, ladies-Ha, ha, ha! Sop. Ha! Mio Carrissimo Amico, il signior Daffodillo! Daf. How! Tukely and Sophia !-If I don't wake soon, I shall wish never to wake again! Sop. Who bids fairest now for Rosamond's pond? Lord Rac. What, in the name of wonder, is all this business? I don't understand it. Diz. Nor I neither; but 'tis very drole, faith! Tuke. The mystery will clear in a moment. Daf. Don't give yourself any trouble, Mr Tukely; things are pretty clear as they areThe night's cool, and my cousin Dizzy, here, is an invalid-If you please, another time, when there is less company.-[Ladies laugh.]—The ladies are pleased to be merry, and you are pleased to be a little angry; and so, for the sake of tran quillity-I'll go to the opera. [DAFFODIL Sneaks out by degrees. Lord Rac. This is a fine blow-up, indeed!Ladies, your humble servant-Hallo! Daffodil. [Exit. Diz. I'll lay you a hundred, that my cousin never intrigues again-George! George! Don't run-hugh, hugh[Exit. Tuke. As my satisfaction is complete, I have none to ask of Mr Daffodil. I forgive his beha viour to me, as it has hastened and confirmed my happiness here. [To SOPHIA.]-But as a friend to you, ladies, I shall insist upon his making you ample satisfaction: However, this benefit will arise, that you will hereafter equally detest and shun these destroyers of your reputation. In you coquettry is a loss of fame; [Exeunt omnes. SCENE I-BELMOUR's lodging. ACT I master, you can't conceive the good it would do your health, if you will but keep your temper a little. Bel. Mighty well, sir, give your advice! Brisk. Why, really, now, this same love hath me tamorphosed us both very strangely, master: for, to be free, here have we been at this work these six weeks, stark-staring mad in love with a couple of baggages not worth a groat: and yet, Heaven help us! they have as much pride as comes to the share of a lady of quality, before she has been caught in the fact with a handsome young fellow, or indeed after she has been caught, for that matter Bel. You won't have done, rascal! Brisk. In short, my young mistress and her maid have as much pride and poverty as-as--no matter what; they have the devil and all— 2 F when, at the same time, every body knows the Enter ROVEWELL. Rove. Belmour, your servant-What, at loggerheads with my old friend Brisk? Bel. Confusion!-Mr Rovewell, your servant ----this is your doing, hang-dog !---Jack Rovewell, I am glad to see thee Brisk. Heaven help us, not much to crack of. Bel. Not much to crack of, Mr Brazen! Prithe, Rovewell, how can you be so ungenerous as to ask such a question? You know I don't mind fortune; though, by the way she has an uncle, who is determined to settle verv handsomely upon her, and on the strength of that does she give herself innumerable airs. Rove. Fortune not to be minded! I'll tell you what, Belmour, though you have a good one already, there's no kind of inconvenience in a little more. I am sure if I had not minded fortune, I might have been in Jamaica still, not worth a sugar-cane; but the widow Molosses took a fancy to me-Heaven, or a worse destiny, has taken a fancy to her; and so, after ten years exile, and being turned a-drift by my father, here am I again, a warm planter, and a widower, most woefully tired of matrimony. But, my Bel. Do you know, Rovewell, that he has had dear Belmour, we were both so overjoyed to the impudence to talk detractingly and profane-meet one another yesterday evening, just as I ly of my mistress? Rove. Brisk used to a good servant-he has not been tampering with any of his master's girls, has he? Brisk. For which, sir, I have suffered inhumanly, and most unchristian-like, I assure you. Bel. Will you leave prating, booby? Rove. Well, but Belmour, where does she live? I am but just arrived, you know, and I'll go and heat up her quarters. Bel. [Half aside.] Beat up her quarters! Looks at him smilingly, then half aside. Favours to none, to all she smiles extends; arrived in town, that I did not hear a syllable from you of your love-fit. How, when, and where, did this happen? Bel. Oh, by the most fortunate accident that ever was-I'll tell thee, Rovewell-I was going one night from the tavern about six weeks ago— I had been there with a parcel of blades, whose only joy is centered in their bottle; and faith, till this accident, I was no better myself—but ever since, I am grown quite a new man. [Stands musing.art, Rove. Hey! what, fallen into a reverie? Prithee, Brisk, what does all this mean? Brisk. Why, sir, you must know-I am over head and ears in love. Rove. But I mean your master; what ails him? Brisk. That's the very thing I am going to tell you, sir-As I said, sir--I am over head and ears in love with a whimsical queer kind of a piece here in the neighbourhood; and so nothing can serve my master, but he must fall in love with the mistress. Look at him now, sir Rove. Av, a new man, indeed! Who, in the name of wonder, would take thee, sunk as thou into a musing, moping, melancholy lover, for the gay Charles Belmour, whom I knew in the West Indies? You Bel. Poh! that is not to be mentioned. know my father took me against my will from the university, and consigned me over to the academic discipline of a man of war; so that, to prevent a dejection of spirits, I was obliged to run into the opposite extreme—as you yourself were won't to do. Rove. Why, yes; I had my moments of reflection, and was glad to dissipate them. You know I always told you there was something extraordinary in my story; and so there is still. I [BELMOUR Continues musing and mutter-suppose it must be cleared up in a few days now ing to himself.] Rove. Ha, ha, ha! Poor Belmour, I pity thee, with all my heart [Strikes him on the shoulder. Ye gods, annihilate both space and time, Bel. My dear Rovewell, such a girl! Ten thousand cupids play about her mouth, you rogue! Rove. Ten thousand pounds had better play about her pocket. What fortune has she? -I am in no hurry about it, though: I must see the town a little this evening, and have my frolic first. But to the point, Belmour-you was going from the tavern, you say? Bel. Yes, sir, about two in the morning; and I perceived an unusual blaze in the air—I was in a rambling humour, and so resolved to know what it was. Brisk. I and my master went together, sir. Bel. Oh, Rovewell! my better stars ordained it to light me on to happiness. By sure attraction led, I came to the very street where a house was on fire; water-engines playing, flames as |