them once for ever, be just and tell me—are you married? Syl. If that can make you easy, no. Atall. Tis ease, indeed ----nor are you promised, nor your heart engaged? Syl. That's hard to tell you : but to be just, I own my father has engaged my person to one I never saw; and my heart, I fear, is inclining to one he never saw. Atall. Oh, yet be merciful, and ease my doubt; tell me the happy man that has deserved so exquisite a blessing. Syl. That, sir, requires some pause: first, tell me why you're so inquisitive, without letting me know the condition of your own heart? Atall. In every circumstance my heart's the same with yours; 'tis promised to one I never saw, by a commanding father, who, by my firm hopes of happiness, I am resolved to disobey, unless your cruelty prevents it. Syl. But my disobedience would beggar me. Atall. Banish that fear. I'm heir to a fortune will support you like yourself. May I not know your family? Syl. Yet you must not. Atall. Why that nicety? Is not it in my power to enquire whose house this is when I am gone ? Syl. And be never the wiser. These lodgings are a friend's, and are only borrowed on this occasion: but to save you the trouble of any further needless questions, I will make you one proposal. I have a young lady here within, who is the only confident of my engagements to you:on her opinion I rely; nor can you take it ill, if I take no farther steps without it: 'twould be miserable, indeed, should we both meet beggars. I own your actions and appearance merit all you can desire; let her be as well satisfied of your pretensions and condition, and you shall find it shan't be a little fortune shall make me ungrateful. Atall. So generous an offer exceeds my hopes! Enter a Servant. Desire my cousin Clarinda to walk in. Atall. Ha! Clarinda! If it should be my Clarinda now, I'm in a sweet condition-by all that's terrible, the very she! this was finely contrived of fortune. [Aside. Enter CLARINDA. Cla. Defend me! Colonel Standfast! She has certainly discovered my affair with him, and has a mind to insult me by an affected resignation of her pretensions to him. I'll disappoint her-I won't know him. [ Aside. Syl. Cousin, pray, come forward; this is the gentleman I am so much obliged to-sir, this lady is a relation of mine, and the person we were speaking of. Atall. I shall be proud to be better known among any of your friends. [Salutes her. Cla. Soh! he takes the hint, I see, and seems not to know me neither : I know not what to think-I am confounded ! I hate both him and her. How unconcerned he looks! Confusion ! he addresses her before my face. LADY SADLIFE peeping in. Lady Sad. What do I see? The pleasant young fellow that talked with me in the park just now! This is the luckiest accident! I must know a little more of him. [Retires. Syl. Cousin, and Mr Freeman, I think I need not make any apology-you both know the occasion of my leaving you together-in a quarter of an hour I'll wait on you again. [Exit SYLVIA. Atall. So! I'm in a hopeful way now, faith; but buff's the word: I'll stand it. Cla. Mr Freeman! So, my gentleman has changed his name, too! How harmless he looks! I have my senses sure, and yet the demureness of that face looks as if he had a mind to persuade me out of them. I could find in my heart to humour his assurance, and see how far he'll carry it-Will you please to sit, sir? [They sit. Atall. What the devil can this mean? Sure she has a mind to counterface me, and not know me, too- -With all my heart: if her ladyship won't know me, I'm sure 'tis not my busi| ness, at this time, to know her. [Aside. Cla. Certainly that face is cannon proof. [Aside. Atall. Now for a formal speech, as if I had never seen her in my life before. [Aside.] Madam-a-hem! Madam-I-a-hem! Cla. Curse of that steady face! [Aside. Atall. I say, madam, since I am an utter stranger to you, I am afraid it will be very difficult for me to offer you more arguments than one to do me a friendship with your cousin; but if you are, as she seems to own you, her real friend, I presume you can't give her a better proof of your being 30, than pleading the cause of a sincere and humble lover, whose tender wishes never can propose to taste of peace in life without her. Cla. Umph! I'm choaked. [ Aside. Atall. She gave me hopes, that when I had satisfied you of my birth and fortune, you would do me the honour to let me know her name and family. Cla. Sir, I must own you are the most perfect master of your art, that ever entered the lists of assurance. Atall. Madam! Cla. And I don't doubt but you will find it a much easier task to impose upon my cousin, than me. Atall. Impose, madam! I should be sorry any thing I have said could disoblige you into such hard thoughts of me. Sure, madam, you are un- that, till my innocence is clear to her, and she der some misinformation. again receives me into mercy, Cla. I was indeed; but now my eyes are open; for, till this minute, I never knew that the gay colonel Standfast was the demure Mr Freeman. Atall. Colonel Standfast! This is extremely dark, madam. Cla. This jest is tedious, sir-impudence grows dull, when 'tis so very extravagant. Atall. Madam, I am a gentleman-but not yet wise enough, I find, to account for the humours of a fine lady. Cla. Troth, sir, on second thoughts, I begin to be a little better reconciled to your assurance; 'tis, in some sort, modesty to deny yourself; for to own your perjuries to my face, had been an insolence transcendently provoking. Atall. Really, madam, my not being able to apprehend one word of all this, is a great inconvenience to my affair with your cousin but if you will first do me the honour to make me acquainted with her name and family, I don't much care if I do take a little pains afterwards to come to a right understanding with you. Cla. Come, come, since you see this assurance will do you no good, you had better put on a simple look, and generously confess your frailties: the same slyness, that deceived me first, will still find me woman enough to pardon you. Atall. That bite won't do. [Aside.] Sure, madam, you mistake me for some other person. Cla. Insolent, audacious villain! I am not to have my senses, then! Atall. No. Cla. And you are resolved to stand it to the last! Atall. The last extremity. A madman's frenzy's heaven to what I feel; Cla. Most abandoned impudence! And yet I Re-enter ATALL and LADY SADLIFE at the other side. Atall. Hey-day! is there no way down stairs here? Death! I can't find my way out! This is the oddest house Lady Sad. Here he is-I'll venture to pass by him. Atall. Pray, madam, which is the nearest way out? Lady Sad. Sir, out--a Atall. Oh, my stars! is't you, madam? this is fortunate indeed-I beg you'll tell me, do you live here, madam? Lady Sad. Not very far off, sir: but this is no place to talk with you alone-indeed I must beg your pardon. Atall. By all those kindling charms that fire my soul, no consequence on earth shall make me quit my hold, till you've given me some kind as [Aside.surance that I shall see you again, and speedily! egad I'll have one out of the family at least. Lady Sad. Oh, good, here's company! Atall. Oh, do not rack me with delays, but quick, before this dear, short-lived opportunity's lost, inform me where you live, or kill me: to part with this soft white hand is ten thousand daggers to my heart. [Kissing it eagerly. [Aside. Cla. Well, sir, since you are so much a stranger to colonel Standfast, I'll tell you where to find him, and tell him this from me. I hate him, scorn, detest, and loath him: I never meant him but at best for my diversion; and, should he ever renew his dull addresses to me, I'll have him used as his vain insolence deserves. Now, sir, I have no more to say, and I desire you would leave the house immediately. Atall. I would not willingly disoblige you, madam; but 'tis impossible to stir, 'till I have seen your cousin, and cleared myself of these strange aspersions. Cia. Don't flatter yourself, sir, with so vain a hope; for I must tell you, once for all, you've seen the last of her; and if you won't be gone, you'll oblige me to have you forced away. Atall. I'll be even with you. [Aside.] Well, madam, since I find nothing can prevail upon your cruelty, I'll take my leave: but, as you hope for justice on the man that wrongs you, at least be faithful to your lovely friend. And when you have named to her my utmost guilt, yet paint my passion, as it is, sincere. Tell her what tortures I cudured in this severe exclusion from her sight, Lady Sad. Oh, lud! I am going home this minute; and if you should offer to dog my chair, I protest I- was ever such usage- -Lordsure! Oh-follow me down, then. [Exeunt. Re-enter CLARINDA and SYLVIA. Syl. Ha, ha, ha! Cla. Nay, you may laugh, madam, but what I tell you is true. Syl. Ha, ha, ha! Cla. You don't believe, then? Syl. I do believe, that when some women are inclined to like a man, nothing more palpably discovers it, than their railing at him; ha, ha!— Your pardon, cousin; you know you laughed at me just now upon the same occasion. Cla. The occasion's quite different, madam; I hate him. And, once more I tell you, he's a villain; you're imposed on. He's a colonel of foot, his regiment's now in Spain, and his name's Standfast. Syl. But, pray, good cousin, whence had you | mont's way is, to be severe in his construction of this intelligence of him? people's meaning. Cla. From the same place that you had your false account, madam; his own mouth. Syl. What was his business with you? Cla. Much about the same, as his business with you-love. Sul. Love! to you! Cla. Me, madam! Lord, what am I? Old, or a monster! Is it so prodigious that a man should like me? Syl. No! but I'm amazed to think, if he had liked you, he should leave you so soon, for me! Cla. For you! leave me for you! No, madam, I did not tell you that, neither! Ha, ha, ha! Syl. No! What made you so violently angry with him, then? Indeed, cousin, you had better take some other fairer way; this artifice is much too weak to make me break with him. But, however, to let you see I can be still a friend, prove him to be what you say he is, and my engagements with him shall soon be over. Cla. Look you, madam, not but I slight the tenderest of his addresses; but, to convince you that my vanity was not mistaken in him, I'll write to him by the name of Colonel Standfast, and do you the same by that of Freeman; and let's each appoint him to meet us at my lady Sadlife's at the same time: if these appear two different men, I think our dispute's easily at an end; if but one, and he does not own all I have said of him to your face, I'll make you a very humble curtesy, and beg your pardon. Syl. And, if he does own it, I'll make your ladyship the same reverence, and beg yours. Enter CLERIMONT. Syl. I'll write my letter, and be with you, cousin. [Exit SYLVIA. Cle. It was always my principle, madam, to have an humble opinion of my merit; when a wor man of sense frowns upon me, I ought to think I deserve it. Cla. But to expect to be always received with a smile, I think, is having a very extraordinary opinion of one's merit. Cle. We differ a little as to fact, madam: for these ten days past, I have had no distinction, but a severe reservedness. You did not use to be so sparing of your good-humour; and, while I see you gay to all the world but me, I cannot but be a little concerned at the change, Cla. If he has discovered the colonel now, I'm undone! he could not meet him, sure. I must humour him a little.-[Aside.]-Men of your sincere temper, Mr Clerimont, I own, don't always meet with the usage they deserve: but women are giddy things, and, had we no errors to auswer for, the use of good-nature in a lover would be lost. Vanity is our inherent weakness: you must not chide, if we are sometimes fonder of your passions than your prudence. Cle. This friendly condescension makes me more your slave than ever. Oh, yet be kind, and tell me, have I been tortured with a groundless jealousy? Cla. Let your own heart be judge-But don't take it ill if I leave you now-I have some earnest business with my cousin Sylvia: But tonight, at my lady Dainty's, I'll make you amends: you'll be there? Ah, how easily is poor Now for the colonel. Cle. I need not promise you. Cla. Your servant. sincerity imposed on! [Aside.] [Exit CLARINDA. Cle. This unexpected change of humour more stirs my jealousy than all her late severity. I'll watch her close: For she, that from a just reproach is kind, ACT III. [Exit. you should e'en fling your physic out of the win ta-dow: if you were not in perfect health in three LADY days, I'd be bound to be sick for you. Lady Dain. Thou art strangely slow; I told thee the hartshorn; I have the vapours to that degree! Sit. If your ladyship would take my advice, VOL. II. Lady Dain. Peace, good impertinence! I tell thee, no woman of quality is, or should be, in perfect health-Huh, huh![Coughs faintly.]— To be always in health is as vulgar as to be always in humour, and would equally betray one's want of wit and breeding: Where are the fel lows? 3 K Sit. Here, madam Enter two Footmen. Lady Dain. Cæsar Run to my lady Roundsides; desire to know now she rested; and tell her the violence of my cold is abated: huh, huh! Pompey, step you to my lady Killchairman's; give my service; say I have been so embarrassed with the spleen all this morning, that I am under the greatest uncertainty in the world, whether I shall be able to stir out or no-And, d'ye hear? desire to know how my lord does, and the new monkey-[Exeunt footmen. Sit. In my conscience, these great ladies make themselves sick, to make themselves business; and are well or ill, only in ceremony to one another. [Aside. Lady Dain. Where's t'other fellow? Sit. He is not returned yet, madam. Lady Dain. 'Tis indeed a strange lump, not fit to carry a disease to any body; I sent him t'other day to the dutchess of Diet-Drink, with the colic, and the brute put it into his own tramontane language, and called it the belly-ach. Sit. I wish your ladyship had not occasion to send for any; for my part Lady Dain. Thy part! Prithee, thou wert made of the rough masculine kind; 'tis betraying our sex, not to be sickly and tender. All the families I visit, have something derived to them from the elegant nice state of indisposition; you see, even in the men, a genteel, as it were, stagger, or twine of the bodies; as if they were not yet confirmed enough for the rough, laborious exercise of walking. Nay, even most of their diseases, you see, are not prophaned by the crowd: the apoplexy, the gout, and vapours, are all peculiar to the nobility. Huh, huh! And I could almost wish, that colds were only ours; there's something in them so genteel, so agreeaably disordering-Huh, huh! Sit. That, I hope, I shall never be fit for them -Your ladyship forgot the spleen. Lady Dain. Oh! my dear spleen—I grudge that even to some of us. Sit. I knew an iroumonger's wife, in the city, that was mightily troubled with it. Lady Dain. Foh! What a creature hast thou named! An ironmonger's wife have the spleen! Thou mightst as well have said her husband was a fine gentleman-Give me something! Sit. Will your ladyship please to take any of the steel drops? Or the bolus? Or the electuary? Or Lady Dain. This wench will smother me with questions-Hub, huh! Bring any of thein- these healthy sluts are so boisterous, they split one's brains: I fancy myself in an inn while she talks to me; I must have some decayed person of quality about me; for the commons of England are the strangest creatures-Huh, huh! Lady Dain. If any thing could tempt me abroad, 'twould be that place, and such agreeable company; but how came you, dear Sylvia, to be reconciled to any thing in an India House? you used to have a most barbarous inclination for our own odious manufactures. Syl. Nay, madam, I am only going to recruit my tea-table: as to the rest of their trumpery, I am as much out of humour with it as ever. Lady Dain. Well, thou art a pleasant creature, thy distaste is so diverting. Syl. And your ladyship is so expensive, that really I am not able to come into it. Lady Dain. Now it is to me prodigious, how some women can muddle away their money upon housewifery, children, books, and charities, when there are so many well-bred ways, and foreign curiosities, that more elegantly require it—I have every morning the rarities of all countries brought to me, and am in love with every new thing I see.- Are the people come yet, Situp? Sit. They have been below, madam, this half hour. Lady Dain. Dispose them in the parlour, and we'll be there presently. [Erit SITUP. Syl. How can your ladyship take such pleasure in being cheated with the baubles of other countries? Lady Dain. Thou art a very infidel to all finery. Syl. And you are a very bigot Lady Dain. A person of all reason, and no complaisance. Syl. And your ladyship all complaisance, and coats; I'm like to have a fine time on't with such creatures as you indeed! Chi. Alas, madam, I'm but a poor woman, and am forced to do any thing to live. Will your ladyship be pleased to accept of a piece of china? Sit. Puh! no.-I don't care.-Though I must needs say you look like an honest woman. [Looking on it. Chi. Thank you, good madam. Sit. Our places are like to come to a fine pass indeed, if our ladies must buy their china with our perquisites. At this rate, ny lady sha'nt have an old fan or a glove, but— Chi. Pray, madam, take it. Sit. No, not I; I won't have it, especially without a saucer to't. Here, take it again. Chi. Indeed you shall accept of it. Sit. Not I, truly-come, give it me, give it me; here's my lady. Enter LADY DAINTY and SYLVIA. Lady Dain. Well, my dear, is not this a pretty sight now? Syl. 'Tis better than so many doctors and apothecaries, indeed. Lady Dain. All trades must live, you know; and those, no more than these, could subsist, if the world were all wise or healthy. Syl. I am afraid our real diseases are but few to our imaginary, and doctors get more by the sound than the sickly. Lady Dain. My dear, you're allowed to say any thing-but now I must talk with the people. Have you got any thing new there? Chi. Ind. and Bird. Yes, an't please your ladyship. Lady Dain. One at once. Bird. I have brought your ladyship the finest monkey Syl. What a filthy thing it is! Lady Dain. Now I think he looks very humorous and agreeable-I vow, in a white perriwig he might do mischief. Could he but talk and take snuff, there's ne'er a fop in town would go beyond him. Syl. Most fops would go farther if they did not speak; but talking, indeed, makes them very often worse company than monkies. Lady Dain. Thou pretty little picture of man!How very Indian he looks!—I could kiss the dear creature! Syl. Ah, don't touch him! he'll bite! Bird. No, madam, he is the tamest you ever saw, and the least mischievous. Lady Dain. Then take him away, I won't have him; for mischief is the wit of a monkey; and I would not give a farthing for one that would not break me three or four pounds worth of china in a morning. Oh, I am in love with these Indian figures!-Do but observe what an innocent natural simplicity there is in all the actions of them! Chi. These are pagods, madam, that the Indians worship. Lady Dain. So far I am an Indian. Chi. Is your ladyship for a piece of right Flanders lace? Lady Dain. Um-no; I don't care for it, now it is not prohibited. Ind. Will your ladyship be pleased to have a pound of fine tea? Lady Dain. What, filthy, odious Bohea, I suppose? Ind. No, madam; right Kappakawawa. Lady Dain. Well, there's something in the very sound of that name, that makes it irresistible.. What is it a pound? Ind. But six guineas, madam. Lady Dain. How infinitely cheap! I'll buy it all.———-Situp, take the man in and pay him, and let the rest call again to-morrow. Omn. Bless your ladyship! [Exeunt SIT. Chi. Ind. and Bird. Lady Dain. Lord, how feverish I am!-the least motion does so disorder me-do but feel me. Syl. No, really, I think you are in very good temper. Lady Dain. Burning, indeed, child. Enter Servant, Doctor, and Apothecary. Ser. Madam, here's Doctor Bolus and the apothecary. [Erit. Lady Dain. Oh, doctor, I'm glad you're come; one is not sure of a moment's life without you. Dr Bol. How did your ladyship rest, madam? [Feels her pulse. Lady Dain. Never worse, indeed, doctor: I once fell into a little slumber, indeed, but then was disturbed by the most odious, frightful dream, that if the fright had not wakened me, I had certainly perished in my sleep, with the apprehension. Dr Bol. A certain sign of a disordered brain, madam; but I'll order something that shall compose your ladyship. Lady Dain. Mr Rhubarb, I must quarrel with you- -you don't disguise your medicines enough; they taste all physic. Rhu. To alter it more might offend the operation, madam, Lady Dain. I don't care what is offended, so my taste is not. Dr Bol. Hark you, Mr Rhubarb, withdraw the medicine, rather than not make it pleasant: I'll find a reason for the want of its operation. [Aside. Rhu. But, sir, if we don't look about us, she'll grow well upon our hands. Dr Bol. Never fear that; she's too much a woman of quality to dare to be well without her doctor's opinion. Rhu. Sir, we have drained the whole cata |