-Slidikins,

how now, who are you?-What am I ?can't I govern you?-What did I marry you for?— Am I not to be absolute and uncontroulable? Is it fit a woman of my spirit and conduct should be contradicted in a matter of this concern!

Sir Paul. It concerns me, and only me :- -Besides, I am not to be governed at all times. When I am in tranquillity my Lady Plyant shall command Sir Paul; but when I am provoked to fury, I cannot incorporate with patience and reason-as soon may tigers match with tigers, lambs with lambs, and every creature couple with its foe, as the poet says.

L. P. He's hot headed still! 'tis in vain to talk to you; but remember I have a curtain lecture for you, you disobedient, headstrong brute.

Sir P. No, 't is because I won't be headstrong: because I won't be a brute, and have my head fortified, that I am thus exasperated.—But I will protect my honour, and yonder is the violater of my fame.

L. P. 'Tis my honour that is concerned, and the violation was intended to me. -Your honour! you have none but what is in my keeping, and I can dispose of it when I please therefore don't provoke me.

Sir P. Hum, gads-but she says true-Well, my lady, march on, I will fight under you then; I am convinced as far as passion will permit.

[Lady Pl. and Sir Paul come up to Mellefont.

L. P. Inhuman and treacherous

Sir P. Thou serpent, and first tempter of womankind..

Cyn. Bless me, sir! madam, what mean you?

Sir P. Thy, Thy, come away Thy, touch him not; come hither, girl, go not near him, there is nothing but deceit about him; snakes are in his peruke, and the crocodile of Nilus is in his belly, he will eat thee up alive. L. P. Dishonourable, impudent creature!

Mel. For Heaven's sake, madam, to whom do you direct this language?

L. P. Have I behaved myself with all the decorum and nicety, befitting the person of Sir Paul's wife? Have I preserved my honour as it were in a snow-house for these three years past? Have I been white and unsullied even by Sir Paul himself?

Sir P. Nay, she has been an invincible wife, even to me, that's the truth on 't.

Lady P. Have I, I say, preserved myself like a fair sheet of paper for you to make a blot upon ?

Sir Paul. And she shall make a simile with any woman in England.

Mel. I am so amazed, I know not what to say.

Sir Paul. Do you think my daughter, this pretty creature- -gads-bud, she's a wife for a cherubin !-Do you think her fit for nothing but to be a stalking horse, to stand before you while you take aim at my wife? Gads-bud, I was never angry before in my life, and I'll never be appeased again.

Mel. Hell and damnation! this is my aunt; such malice can be engendered no where else. [Aside.

Lady P. Sir Paul, take Cynthia from his sight; leave me to strike him with the remorse of his intended crime.

Cyn. Pray, sir, stay, hear him; I dare affirm he 's innocent.

Sir Paul. Innocent! Why, hark'ee, come hither, Thy; hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my sister Touchwood-Gads-bud, he does not care a farthing for any thing of thee, but thy portion; why, he's in love with my wife; he would have tantalized thee, and made a cuckold of thy poor father-and that would certainly have broke my heart-I am sure if ever I should have horns they would kill me; they would never come kindly; I should die of them like a child that was cutting his teeth-I should indeed, Thy-therefore come away; but Providence has prevented all, therefore come away when I bid you.

Cyn. I must obey.

[Exit with Sir Paul.

Lady P. Oh, such a thing! the impiety of it startles me to wrong so good, so fair a creature, and one that loves you tenderly.-'Tis a barbarity of barbarities, and nothing could be guilty of it

Mel. But the greatest villain imagination can form, I grant it; and next to the villany of such a fact, is the villany of aspersing me with the guilt.-How ?— Which way was I to wrong her?-For yet I understand you not.

Lady P. Why, gads my life, cousin Mellefont, you cannot be so peremptory as to deny it, when I tax you with it to your face; for, now Sir Paul is gone, you are corum nobus.

Mel. By Heaven I love her more than life, or

Lady P. Fiddle, faddle, do n't tell of this and that, and every thing in the world, but give me mathemacular demonstration, answer me directly-But I have not patience!-Oh! the impiety of it, as I was saying, and the unparalleled wickedness!- -O, merciful father!-How could you think to reverse nature so, to make the daughter the means of procuring the mother?

Mel. The daughter to procure the mother!

Lady P. Aye, for though I am not Cynthia's own mother, I am her father's wife, and that's near enough to make it incest.

Mel. Incest!in conjunction.

-O, my precious aunt, and the devil

[Aside. Lady P. O, reflect on the horror of that, and then the guilt of deceiving every body; marrying the daughter only to make a cuckold of the father; and then seducing me, debauching my purity, and perverting me from the road of virtue, in which I have trod thus long, and never made one trip, not one faux pas; O, consider it! what would you have to answer for, if you should provoke me to frailty? Alas! humanity is feeble, Heaven knows! very feeble, and unable to support itself.

Mel. Where am I? Is it day? and am I awake?Madam

Lady P. And nobody knows how circumstances may happen together;-to my thinking, now I could resist the strongest temptation-but yet, I know

E

't is impossible for me to know whether I could or not; there's no certainty in the things of this life.

Mel. Madam, pray give me leave to ask you one question

Lady P. O lord, ask me the question! I'll swear I'll refuse it; I swear I'll deny it-therefore don't ask me; nay, you shan't ask me, I swear I'll deny it, O, Gemini, you have brought all the blood into my face; I warrant I'm as red as a turkey-cock; O fie, cousin Mellefont.

Mel. Nay, madam, hear me; I mean

Lady P. Hear you, no, no; I'll deny you first, and hear you afterwards. For one does not know how one's mind may change upon hearing.—Hearing is one of the senses, and all the senses are fallible; I won't trust my honour, I assure you; my honour is infallible and uncomatible,

Mel. For Heaven's sake, madam

Lady P. O, name it no more— -Bless me, how can you talk of Heaven, and have so much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't think it a sin—they say some of you gentlemen don't think it a sin

may be it is no sin to them that don't think it so; indeed, if I did not think it a sin-but still my honour, if it were no sin-but then to marry my daughter for the conveniency of frequent opportunities-I'll never consent to that; as sure as can be I'll break the match.

Mel. Death and amazement!my knees

-Madam, upon