Gad. My dear Mr. Cape, I beg ten thousand pardons, but here your friend is invited to dinner with prince- -what the devil is his name?

Spri. Potowowsky.

Cad. True; now, fir, ecod he has been fo kind as to offer to carry me as his Jablanousky, wou'd you be fo good to excufe

Cape. By all means; not a word, I beg.

Cad. That is exceeding kind; I'll come to you after dinner; hey! stay, but is there any ceremony to be used with his highness?

Spri. You dine upon carpets, cross-legg'd.

Cad. Hey! hold, hold, cross-legg'd! zounds! that's odd, well, well, you fhall teach me.

Spri. And his highness is particularly pleased with thofe amongst his guests that do honour to his country foop.

Cad. Oh! let me alone for that; but should not I drefs?

Spri No, there's no occafion for it.

Cad. Dear friend, forgive me; nothing fhou'd take me from you but being a Hobblin Wifky. Well, I'll go and study to fit crofs-legg'd, 'till you call me. Spri. Do fo.

Cad. His highness Potowowsky! This is the luckiest

accident!

(Exit. Cape. Hah! hah! hah! but how will you conduct your enterprize?

Spri. We'll carry him to your friend Robin's; drefs up one of the under actors in a ridiculous habit; this gentleman shall talk a little gibberish with him. I'll compofe a foop of fome naufeous ingredients; let me alone to manage. But do you chufe, fir, the part we have affign'd?

Gov. As it feems to be but a harmless piece of mirth, I have no objection.

Spri. Well then, let us about it; come, fir.

Cape. Mr. Sprightly!

Spri. What's the matter?

Cape. Wou'd it not be right to be a little spruce, a little fmart upon this occafion?

.

Spri. No doubt; drefs, drefs, man; no time to be loft.

Cape. Well; but Jack, I cannot fay that at prefent I

Spri. Prythee explain. What would you say?

Cape. Why then, I cannot fay, that I have any other garments at home.

Spri. Oh, I understand you, is that all? Here here, take my.

Cape. Dear Sprightly, I am quite afhamed, and forry.

Spri. That's not fo obliging, George: what! forry to give me the greatest pleasure that-But I have no time for fpeeches; I muft run to get ready my foop. Come, gentlemen.

Rob. Did you obferve, fir?

Gov. Moft feelingly! But it will foon be over.
Rob. Courage, fir; times perhaps may change.

Cape. A poor profpect, Robin! But this fcheme of life at least must be changed: for what fpirit, with the leaft fpark of generofity, can fupport a life of eternal obligation, and difagreeable drudgery? Inclination not confulted, genius cramp'd, and talents mifapply'd!

What profpect have those authors to be read,
Whofe daily writings earn their daily bread?

(Exeunt Omnes.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

ACT

АСТ II.

SCENE I.

Young CAPE and Mrs. CADWALLADER at Cards.

Mrs. Cad.

YOU want

hearts be trumps.

Cape. I beg.

I

OU want four, and I two, and my deal: now, knave noddy-no,

Mrs. Cad. Will you ftock 'em?

Cape. Go on, if you please, madam.

Mrs. Cad. Hearts again- -one, two, three; one, two,- -hang 'em, they won't flip, three. Diamonds -the two have you higher than the queen ?

Cape. No, madam.

Mrs. Cad. Then there's highest-and lowest, by gofh. Games are even; you are to deal.

Cape. Phaw! hang cards; there are other amusements better fuited to a tete-a-tete than any the four aces can afford us.

Mrs. Cad. What paftimes be they?

-We ben't

enough for hunt the whistle, nor blind-man's-buff; but I'll call our Bell, and Robin the butler. Dicky will be here an bye.

Cape. Hold a minute. I have a game to propofe, where the presence of a third perfon, especially Mr. Cadwallader's, would totally ruin the sport.

Mrs. Cad. Ay, what can that be?

Cape. Can't you guess?

Mrs. Cad. Not I, questions and commands, mayhap.

Cape. Not abfolutely that-fome little resemblance; for I am to request, and you are to command.

C 3

Mrs.

Mrs. Cad. Oh daify! that's charming. I never play'd at that in all my born days; come, begin

then.

Cape. Can you love me?

Mrs. Cad. Love you ! But is it in jest or earnest?
Cape. That is as you please to determine.

Mrs. Cad. But mayn't I ask you questions too?
Cape. Doubtlefs.

Mrs. Cad. Why then do you love me?

Cape. With all my foul.

Mrs. Cad. Upon your fayfo.

Cape. Upon my fayfo.

Mrs. Cad. I'm glad on't with all my heart. This is the rarest pastime—

Cape. But you have not answer'd my question.

Mrs. Cad. Hey? that's true. Why, I believe there's no love loft.

Cape. So; our game will foon be over; I fhall be up at a deal. I wish I may'nt be engag'd to play deeper here than I intended tho.' (Afide.

Mrs. Cad. Well, now, 'tis your turn.

Cape. True; aye; but zooks, you are too hafty; the pleasure of this play, like hunting, does not confist in immediately chopping the prey.

Mrs. Cad. No! how then?

Cape. Why, first I am to start you, then run you a little in view, then lofe you, then unravel all the tricks and doubles you make to escape me.

You fly o'er hedge and stile,
I pursue for many a mile,
You grow tir'd at last, and quat,
Then I catch you, and all that.

Mrs. Cad. Dear me, there's a deal on't! I fhall never be able to hold out long; I had rather be taken in view.

Cape. I believe you.

Mrs. Cad. Well, come, begin and start me, that I may come the fooner to quatting---hufh! here's fifter;

what

what the deuce brought her! Bell will be for learning this game too, but don't you teach her for your life, Mr. Poet.

Enter Arabella.

Arab. Your manteau-maker, with your new fack, fifter.

Mrs. Cad. Is that all? She might have ftay'd, I

think.

Arab. What, you were better engaged? But don't be angry. I am forry I interrupted you.

Mrs. Cad. Hey! now will I be hang'd if the ben't Ejealous of Mr. Poet; but I'H liften, and fee the end on't, I'm refolv'd. (Afide and exit. Arab. Are you concern'd at the interruption too? Cape. It was a very seasonable one, I promise you; had you ftay'd a little longer, I don't know what might have been the confequence.

Arab. No danger to your perfon, I hope?
Cape. Some little attacks upon it.

Arab. Which were as feebly refifted.

Cape. Why, confider, my dear Bell; tho' your fifter is a fool, fhe is a fine woman, and flesh is frail! Arab. Dear Bell! And flesh is frail! We are grown ftrangely familiar. I think?

Cape. Heydey! In what corner fits the wind now? Arab. Where it may poffibly blow strong enough to overfet your hopes.

Cape That a breeze of your breath can do.

Arab. Affected!

Cape. You are obliging, madam; but, pray, what is the meaning of all this?

Arab. Afk your own guilty confcience.

Cape. Were I inclined to flatter myself, this little paffage would be no bad prefage.

Arab. You may prove a falfe prophet.

Cape. Let me die, if I know what to---
cend to a little common fenfe,
duct?---

but to def

what part of con

my

Arab. Looky', Mr. Cape, all explanations are unneceffary: I have been lucky enough to discover your

dif