mind my lord? ah! he bows charmingly. Nay, my lord, you shan't kiss it so much; I shall grow jealous, I vow now.

[He bows profoundly low, then kisses the glass. Ld. F. I saw myself there, and kissed it for your sake.

Lady F. Ah! gallantry to the last degree-Mr. Brisk, you are a judge;. was ever any thing so well bred as my lord?

Brisk. Never any thing but your ladyship, let me perish.

Lady F. O prettily turned again; let me die but you have a great deal of wit.Mr. Mellefont, don't you think Mr. Brisk has a world of wit?

Mel. O yes, madam.

Brisk. O dear, madam

Lady F. An infinite deal!

Brisk. O heavens, madam

Lady F. More wit than any body.

Brisk. I am everlastingly your humble servant, deuce take me, madam.

Ld. F. Don't you think us a happy couple?

Cyn. I vow, my lord, I think you the happiest couple in the world; "for you are not only happy "in one another and when you are together, but "happy in yourselves, and by yourselves."

Ld. F. I hope Mellefont will make a good husband

too.

Cyn. 'Tis my interest to believe he will, my lord.

Ld. F. D'ye think he 'll love you as well as I do my wife? I am afraid not.

Cyn. I believe he 'll love me better.

Ld. F. Heav'ns! that can never be ;-but why do you think so?

Cyn. Because he has not so much reason to be fond of himself.

Ld. F. O, your humble servant for that, dear madam.- -Well, Mellefont, you'll be a happy

creature.

Mel. Ay, my lord, I shall have the same reason for my happiness that your lordship has; I shall think myself happy.

Ld. F. Ah, that's all.

Brisk. [To Lady Froth.] Your ladyship is in the right; but, 'egad I'm wholly turned into satire. I confess I write but seldom, but when I do-keen Iambics, 'egad. But my lord was telling me, your ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem.

Lady F. Did my lord tell you?—Yes, I vow, and the subject is my lord's love to me.————— -And what do you think I call it? I dare swear you won't guessThe Sillabub, ha, ha, ha!

Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, 'egad; ha, ha, ha! deuce take me, very à propos, and surprizing, ha, ha, ha!

Lady F. He! ay, is not it ?—And then I call my lord Spumosa; and myself-what do you think I call myself?

Brisk. Lactilla, may be

-'Egad I cannot tell.

Lady F. Biddy, that 's all; just my own name. Brisk, Biddy! 'Egad, very pretty-Deuce take me, if your ladyship has not the art of surprizing the most naturally in the world—I hope you 'll make me happy in communicating the poem.

Lady. F. O, you must be my confidant, I must ask your advice.

Brisk. I'm your humble servant, let me perishI presume your ladyship has read Bossu ?

Lady F. O, yes, and Rapine, and Dacier upon Aristotle and Horace.-My lord, you must not be jealous, I'm communicating all to Mr. Brisk.

Ld. F. No, no, I'll allow Mr. Brisk; have you nothing about you to shew him, my dear?

Lady F. Yes, I believe I have.

-Mr. Brisk, come will you go into the next room, and there I'll shew you what I have.

[Exit with Brisk. Ld. F. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and come to

you.

t

Mel. You are thoughtful, Cynthia.

[Exit.

Cyn. I am thinking, though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves them still two fools; and they become more conspicuous by setting off one another.

Mel. That's only when two fools meet, and their follies are opposed.

Cyn. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and by the opposition of their wit, render themselves as ridicu. lous as fools. 'Tis an odd game we are going to play at; what think you of drawing stakes, and giving over in time?

Mel. No, hang it, that's not endeavouring to win, because it is possible we may lose; since we have shuffled and cut, let 's e'en turn up trump now.

Cyn. Then I find it is like cards; if either of us have a good hand it is an accident of fortune.

Mel. No, marriage is rather like a game of bowls : fortune indeed makes the match, and the two nearest, and sometimes the two farthest are together, but the game depends entirely upon judgment.

Cyn. Still it is a game, and consequently one of us must be a loser.

Mel. Not at all; only a friendly trial of skill, and the winnings to be laid out in an entertainment.. "What's here, the music !—Oh, my lord has pro"mised the company a new song, we'll get them to

give it us by the way. [Musicians crossing the stage.} "Pray let us have the favour of you to practise the song before the company hear it.

"SONG.

"Cynthia frowns whene'er I woo her s
"Yet she's vex'd if I give over;

"Much she fears I should undo her,
"But much more to lose her lover:
"Thus, in doubting, she refuses;
"And not winning, thus she loses.

Pr'y thee, Cynthia, look behind you,
"Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you ;

"Then too late desire will find you,
"When the power must forsake you :
"Think, O think, o' th' sad condition,
"To be past, yet wish fruition.

“ Mel. You shall have my thanks below.

[To the music-they go out."

Enter Sir PAUL PLYANT, and Lady PLYANT.

Sir Paul. Gads bud! I am provoked into a fermentation, as my Lady Froth says; was ever the like read of in story?

Lady P. Sir Paul, have patience; let me alone to rattle him up.

Sir Paul. Pray, your ladyship, give me leave to be angry-I'll rattle him up, I warrant you; I'll firk

him with a certiorari.

Lady P. You firk him! I'll firk him myself. Pray, Sir Paul, hold yourself contented.

Cyn. Bless me, what makes my father in such a "( passion! -I never saw him thus before."

Sir Paul. Hold yourself contented, my Lady Plyant,

-I find passion coming upon me by inflation, and 1 cannot submit as formerly, therefore give way. Lady P. How now!-will you be pleased to retire, and

Sir Paul. No marry will I not be pleased; I am pleased to be angry, that's my pleasure at this time. Mel. What can this mean?

Lady P. Gads my life, the man's distracted! Why,