ried to morrow! despair strikes me. Yet my foul knows I hate him too: let him but once be mine, and next immediate ruin feize him.

Mask. Compofe yourself, you fhall poffefs and ruin him too, Will that please you?

L. 7. How, how? Thou dear, thou precious villain, how?

Mask. You have already been tampering with my Lady Plyant.

L. T. I have: She is ready for any impreffion I think fit.

Mask. She must be thoroughly perfuaded, that Mellefont loves her.

L. T. She is fo credulous that way naturally, and likes him fo well, that she will believe it faster than I can perfuade her. But I don't fee what you can propofe from fuch a trifling defign; for her firft converfing with Mellefont, will convince her of the contrary.

Mask. I know it. I don't depend upon it.-But it will prepare fomething elfe, and gain us leifure to lay a ftronger plot: If I gain a little time, I fhall not want contrivance.

One minute gives invention to deftroy,
What to rebuild, will a whole

age employ.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

Enter Lady Froth and Cynthia.

Cynt. Nould have been fo much in love?

Cynt. INDEED, madam! Is it poffible your ladyship

L, Froth. I could not fleep; I did not fleep one wink for three weeks together.

Cynt. Prodigious! I wonder, want of leep, and fo much love, and fo much wit as your ladyship has, did not turn your brain.

L. Froth. O my dear Cynthia, you must not rally your friend.But really, as you fay, I wonder too,"

But then I had a way.- -For between you and I, I had whimfies and vapours, but I gave them vent. Cynt. How pray, madam.

L. Froth. Oh, I writ, writ abundantly-Do you

never write.

Cynt. Write, what?

L. Froth. Songs, elegies, fatires, encomiums, panegyricks, lampoons, plays, or heroic poems.

Cynt. O lord, not I, madam; I'm content to be a courteous reader.

L. Froth. O inconfiftent! In love, and not write! If my lord and I had been both of your temper, we had never come together,- O blefs me; what a fad thing 'would that have been, if my lord and I fhould never have met!

Cynt. Then neither my lord nor you would ever have met with your match, on my confcience.

L. Froth. O' my confcience no more we fhould; thou fay'ft right-For fure my Lord Froth is as fine a gentleman, and as much a man of quality! ah! nothing at all of the common air,I think I may fay he wants nothing, but a blue ribbon and a ftar, to make him fhine, the very phofphorus of our hemifphere. Do you underftand thofe two hard words? If you don't, I'll explain

'em to you.

-At

Cynt. Yes, yes, madam, I'm not fo ignorant.. leaft I won't own it, to be troubled with your inftruc

tions.

[Afide.

L. Froth. Nay, I beg your pardon; but being deriv'd from the Greek, I thought you might have efcap'd the etymology.But I'm the more amaz'd, to find you a woman of letters, and not write! blefs me! how can Mellefont believe you love him?

Cynt. Why faith, madam, he that won't take my word, fhall never have it under my hand.

L. Froth. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but methinks he wants a manner.

Cynt. A manner! what's that, madam?

L. Froth. Some diftinguishing quality, as for example, the bell air or brillant of Mr. Brisk; the folemnity, yet complaifance of my lord, or fomething of his own that fhould look a little Je-ne-fcai quoi; he is too much a mediocrity, in my mind.

Cynt.

Cynt. He does not indeed affect either pertnefs or formality; for which I like him: Here he comes.

L. Froth. And my lord with him: Pray obferve the difference. Enter Lord Froth, Mellefont and Brifk Cynt. Impertinent creature! I could almoft be angry with her now. [Afide.

L. Froth. My lord, I have been telling Cynthia, how much I have been in love with you; I fwear I have; I'm not afham'd to own it now; Ah! it makes my heart leap, I vow, I figh when I think on't: my dear lord! Ha, ha, ha! do you remember, my lord?

[Squeezes him by the hand, looks kindly on him, fighs, and then laughs out.]

Ld. Froth. Pleafant creature! perfectly well, ah! that look, ay, there it is; who could refift! 'twas fo my heart was made a captive first, and ever fince t'has been in love with happy slavery.

L. Froth. O that tongue, that dear deceitful tongue! that charming foftnefs in your mien and your expression, and then your bow! good my lord, bow as you did when I gave you my picture, here fuppofe this my picture-Gives him a pocket glass.] Pray mind my lord; ah! he bows charmingly; nay, my lord, you fhan't kifs it fo much; I fhall grow jealous, I vow now.

[He bows profoundly low, then kiffes the glass. Ld. Froth. I faw myself there, and kifs'd it for your fake. L. Froth. Ah! gallantry to the last degree-Mr. Brisk, you're a judge; was ever any thing fo well bred as my lord?

Brisk. Never any thing; but your lady fhip, let me perish.. L. Froth. O prettily turn'd 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

L. Froth. An infinite deal!

Brisk. O Heav'ns, madam

L. Froth. More wit than any body.

Brisk. I'm everlastingly your humble fevant, deuce take me, madam.

Ld. Froth. Don't you think us a happy couple? Cynt. I vow, my lord, I think you the happiest couple in the world, for you're not only happy in one ano

ther,

ther, and when you are together, but happy in your felves, and by yourselves.

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

too.

Cynt. 'Tis my interest to believe he will, my lord. Ld. Froth. D'ye think he'll love you as my wife? I'm afraid not.

Cynt. I believe he'll love me better. Ld. Froth. Heav'ns! that can never be; you think fo?

well as I do

but why do

Cynt. Because he has not fo much reason to be fond of himself.

Ld. Froth. O your humble fervant for that, dear madam; well, Mellefont, you'll be a happy creature.

Mel. Ay, my lord, I fhall have the fame reafon for my happiness that your lordship has, I shall think myfelf happy.

Ld. Froth. Ah, that's all.

Brisk. [To Lady Froth] Your ladyship is in the right; but I'gad I'm wholly turn'd into fatire. I confess I write but feldom, but when I do-keen Iambicks I'gad. But my lord was telling me, your ladyship has made an effay toward an heroic poem.

my

L. Froth. Did my lord tell you? Yes I vow, and the fubject is lord's love to me. And what do you think I call it? I dare fwear you won't guess-The Sillabub, ha, ha, ha!

Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, l'gad; ha, ha, ha! deuce take me very àpropos and furprizing, ha, ha, ha! L. Froth. He, ay, is not it? -And then I call my lord Spumofo; and myself, what d'ye think I call my

felf?

Brisk. Ladilla may be,————'gad I cannot tell,

L. Froth. Biddy, that's all; just my own name. Brisk. Biddy! I'gad very pretty-Deuce take me if your ladyship has not the art of furprizing the moft naturally in the world, I hope you'll make me happy in communicating the poem.

L. Froth. O, you must be confident, I must ask your advice.

Brisk. I'm your humble fervant, let me perish,

prefume your ladyfhip has read Bou?

-I

L. Freth. O yes, and Rapin, and Dacier upon Ariftotle

and

and Horace.My lord, you must not be jealous, I'm communicating all to Mr. Brisk.

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

L. Froth. Yes, I believe I have.- -Mr. Brisk, come will you go into the next room? and there I'll fhew you what I have.' [Exeunt L. Froth and Brifk. Ld. Froth. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and come [Exit. Cynt. I'm thinking, tho' marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em ftill two fools; and they be come more confpicuous by fetting off one another.

to you.

Mel. You're thoughtful, Cynthia?

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

Cynt. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and by the oppofition of their wit, render them felves as ridiculous as fools. "Tis an odd game we're going to play at: What think you of drawing stakes, and giving over in time?

Mel. No, hang't, that's not endeavouring to win, becaufe it's poffible we may lofe; fince we have fhuffled and cut, let's e'en turn up trump now.

Cynt. Then I find it's like cards, if either of us have a good hand it is an accident of fortune.

Mel. No, marriage is rather like a game at bowls, fortune indeed makes the match, and the two nearest, and fometimes the two fartheft are together, but the game depends intirely upon judgment.

Cynt. Still it is a game, and confequently one of us must be a lofer.

Mel. Not at all; only a friendly trial of skill, and the winnings to be laid out in an entertainment.. - What's here, the mufick! -Oh, my lord has promised the company a new fong, we'll get 'em to give it us by the way [Muficians croffing the ftage.] Pray let us have the favour of you, to practice the fong, before the company • hear it.

SONG.