learns his politics; whilst the sprightly countess dispenses taste and philosophy to a circle of bishops, geuerals, and abbés.

Cla. Yet I am mistaken if you have not found one Englishman to reconcile you to the manners of the rest. Lord Sparkle for instance; your ladyship thinks, I'm sure, that he has wit at will.

Lady B. Oh yes, quite at will! His wit, like his essence bottle, is a collection of all that is poignant in a thousand flowers; and, like that, is most useful, when he himself is most insipidly vacant.

Cla. With such sentiments I wonder you can suffer his addresses.

Lady B. What can I do? The man is so much the fashion, and I shall be so much envied. Why you know, my dear, for instance, you'd be inclined to stick a poisoned nosegay in my bosom, if I should take him. Cla. Ha, ha, ha! ridiculous! Believe me, madam, I shall neither prepare a bouquet, nor invoke a fiery shower to grace your nuptials.

Lady B. No, your showers would be tears, I fancy. [Aside] Here he comes!

Cla. Hah! lord Sparkle! your ladyship's accident was fortunate. [Sneering.

Enter LORD SPARKLE. Lord S. Heavens! lady Bell! your horses fly like the doves of Venus. I followed you from St. James's; but my poor earth-born cattle wouldn't keep pace with yours. Cla. Oh, don't complain: if her ladyship won the race, you see she stopped for you at the goal.

Lord S. Charming miss Belmour, what an enlivening intimation! Where was your ladyship on Thursday? You would have found excellent food for your satire at Mrs. Olio's; we had all the law ladies from Lincoln's Inn, a dozen good velvets from Bishopsgate, with the wives and daughters of half the M. D's. and LL. D's. in town.

Lady B. Oh, my entertainment was quite as good as yours! We were in Brook-street, at lady Laurel's, and found her surrounded by her literati of all denominations: We had masters of art, and misses of science.

On one hand an essayist, on the other a moralist; there a poetaster, here a translator; in that corner a philosopher, in the other a compiler of magazines. Tropes, epigrams, and syllogisms flew like sky-rockets in every direction; till the ambition of pre-eminence lighted the flame of controversy, when they gave each other the lie literally with infinite spirit and decorum.

Lord S. Excellent! I'll repeat every word in a place where it will be remembered, and the satire enjoyed. Cla. In that hope your lordship may safely knock at every door in the street; satire is welcome every where. Lady B. Yes, if it will bear a laugh; that's the grand art of conversation. They pretend we are fond of slander; but rob scandal of its laugh, and 'twould soon be banished to the second table, for the amusement of butlers and chamber-maids.

Lord S. Indeed! Then I believe half our acquaintance would go down to the second table too![Enter a Servant, gives Lord Sparkle a Letter, and exit. Reads it aside] Julia! astonishing! So sudden in your movements, Mrs. Kitty! [Aside. Turns to the Ladies] This vulgar thing called business, is the greatest evil in life; it destroys our most brilliant hours; and is fit only for younger brothers and humble cousins. Miss Belmour, I must tear myself away. Shall I attend your ladyship to your carriage? [To Lady Bell Bloomer. Lady B. If you please. Miss Belmour, “ I must tear myself away;" but you'll shine upon us at night.

[Exeunt Lord Sparkle and Lady Bell Bloomer. Cla. Shine upon you at night! That I know you are insolent enough to believe impossible. What can I think of her sentiments for lord Sparkle? Sometimes I believe 'tis a mere attachment of vanity on both sides. That reserved creature, Beauchamp, is in his confidence; but he leaves town this very day, and I shall have no opportunity of conversing with him. [Muses] There is but one chance-going to visit him: but how can I possibly do that? If he had a library, one might go to look at his books. Well, I don't care, go I will; and if I can't invent an excuse, I'll put a good face upon the matter, and go without one. [Exit.

SCENE I. An Apartment at LADY BELL BLOOMER'S. Enter LADY BELL BLOOMER, followed by her Maid. Lady B. Miss Manners gone out in a hackney-coach, and no message left!

Maid. No, madam.

Lady B. Very strange!

Maid. Mr. Beauchamp has been waiting almost an hour for your ladyship's return.

Lady B. Mr. Beauchamp! Here, go and put some otto of roses in that handkerchief. [Exit Maid] Now, shall I admit him or not? I suppose he has at length vanquished his modesty, and is come to tell me that-that-Well, I vow I won't hear him. Yes, I will. I long to know the style in which these reserved_men make love. To what imprudence would my heart betray me? Yet I may surely indulge myself in hearing him speak of love; in hearing, probably for the first time, its genuine language.

Re-enter Maid, and presents the Handkerchief. Tell Mr. Beauchamp I am here. [Exit Maid] Now, how shall I receive him?

[Takes her Fan from her Pocket, and traverses the Stage, humming a Tune.

Enter BEAUCHAMP.

Oh, Mr. Beauchamp, this is the luckiest thing! I have had ten disputes to-day about the figures in my fan; and you shall decide 'em. Is that beautiful nymph a flying Daphne, or an Atalanta?

Beau. [Looking at her Fan] From the terror of the eye, madam, and the swiftness of her step, it must be a Daphne. I think Atalanta's head would be more at variance with her feet; and while she flies, her eye would be invitingly turned on her pursuers.

Lady B. I think you are right! Yes; there does want the kind, inviting glance, to be sure.

Beau. I know one to whom your ladyship appears the disdainful Daphne. How happy would he be could he behold in your eye the encouragement of Atalanta's. Lady B. Mercy! for so bashful a man, that's pretty plain.

Aside.

Beau. This is probably the last visit I can make you before I leave England: will your ladyship permit me, before I leave it, to acquaint you that there is a man whose happiness depends on your favour? [Agitated. Lady B. A man whose happiness depends on me, Mr Beauchamp? [Looking on her Fan. Beau. Yes, madam! and-and-I cannot go on! why did I accept a commission in which success would [Aside. destroy me? Lady B. The man seems to have chosen a very diffident advocate in you, sir.

Beau. "Tis more than diffidence, madam, my task is painful.

Lady B. Ay, I thought so! You have taken a brief in a cause you don't like; I could plead it better myself. Beau. I feel the reproach.

Lady B. "Tis difficult for you, perhaps, to speak in the third person: try it in the first. Suppose now, ha, ha, only suppose, I say, for the jest's sake, that you yourself have a passion for me, and then try how you can plead it.

Beau. [Kneels] Thus thus would I plead it, and swear, that thou art dear to my heart as fame and

honour! To look at thee is rapture; to love thee, though without hope-felicity!

Lady B. Oh, I thought I should bring him to the point at last! [Åside. Beau. [Rises] To what dishonesty have I been betrayed! [Aside] Thus, madain, speaks my friend through my lips; 'tis thus he pleads his passion.

Lady B. Provoking! [Aside] What friend is this, sir, who is weak enough to use the language of another to explain his heart?

Beau. Lord Sparkle.

Lady B. Lord Sparkle! Was it for him you knelt? [He bows to her] Then, sir, I must inform you, that the liberty you have taken- -Heavens, how do I betray myself! [Aside] Tell me, sir, on your honour, do you wish to succeed in pleading the passion of lord Sparkle?

Beau. [Hesitating] My obligations to his lordship— our relationship-the confidence he has reposed in me— Lady B. Stop, sir! I too will repose confidence in you, and confess that there is a man whom I sometimes suspect not to be indifferent to me; but 'tis not lord Sparkle. Tell him so; and tell him that-that-tell him what you will.

Beau. Heavens, what doth she mean? What language is this her eye speaks?

Lady B. Do you visit me this evening. Here will be many of my friends, and you shall then see me in the presence of the man my heart prefers. [Beauchamp bows, and goes to the Door; then returns, advances towards Lady Bell, makes an effort to speak; finds it impossible, then bows, and exit] "Heavens! what necessity have lovers for words? What persuasion in that bashful irresolution! Now, shall I let him quit England, or not? What? give up a coronet and lord Sparkle for a cockade and Beauchamp? Preposterous! says vanity. But what says love? I don't exactly know; but I'll examine their separate claims, and settle them with all the casuistry of four-and-twenty. [Exit.