Min. I vow, mem, I thought once they would have fit.

Mill. Well, 'tis a lamentable thing, I swear, that one has not the liberty of chusing one's acquaintance, as one does one's clothes.

Mrs Mar. If we had that liberty, we should be as weary of one set of acquaintance, though never so good, as we are of one suit, though never so fine. A fool and a Doily stuff would now and then find days of grace, and be worn for variety.

Mill. I could consent to wear them, if they would wear alike; but fools never wear outThey are such drap-de-berry things! without one could give them to one's chambermaid, after a day or two.

Mrs Mar. 'Twere better so, indeed. Or what think you of the play-house? A fine gay glossy fool should be given there, like a new masking habit after the masquerade is over, and we have done with the disguise. For a fool's visit is always a disguise; and never admitted by a woman of wit, but to blind her affair with a lover of sense. If you would but bare-faced now, appear and own Mirabell, you might as easily put off Petulant and Witwould, as your hood and scarf. And indeed 'tis time, for the town has found it : the secret is grown too big for the pretence. Indeed, Millamant, you can no more conceal it, than my lady Strammel can her face, that goodly face, which, in defiance of her Rhenish-wine tea, will not be comprehended in a mask.

Mill. Ha? Dear creature, I ask your pardonI swear I did not mind you.

Mrs Mar. Mr Mirabell, and you both, may think a thing impossible, when I tell him, by telling you

Mill. O dear! what? for 'tis the same thing, if I hear it-Ha, ha, ha !

Mrs Mar. That I detest him, hate him, madam.

Mill. O madam! why, so do I-And yet the creature loves me; ha, ha, ha! How can one forbear laughing to think of it?-I am a sybil, if I am not amazed to think what he can see in me. I'll take my death, I think you are handsomerand within a year or two as young-If you could but stay for me, I should overtake you---But that cannot be-Well, that thought makes me melancholic--Now I'll be sad.

Mrs Mar. Your merry note may be changed sooner than you think.

Mill. Do ye say so? Then, I'm resolved I'll have a song to keep up my spirits.

Enter MINCING.

Min. The gentlemen stay but to comb, madam; and will wait on you.

Enter PETULANT and WITWOULD. Mill. Is your animosity composed, gentlemen? Wit. Raillery, raillery, madam; we have no animosity-We hit off a little wit now and then, but no animosity--The falling-out of wits is like Mill. I'll take my death, Marwood, you are the falling-out of lovers--We agree in the main, more censorious than a decayed beauty, or a dis-like treble and base. Ha, Petulant! carded toast. Mincing, tell the men they may come up. My aunt is not dressing here; their folly is less provoking than your malice. [Exit MINCING.] The town has found it! what has it found? That Mirabell loves me, is no more a secret, than it is a secret, that you discovered it to my aunt, or than the reason why you discovered it is a secret.

Mrs Mar. You are nettled.

Mill. You're mistaken. Ridiculous!

Mrs Mar. Indeed, my dear, you'll tear another fan, if you don't mitigate those violent airs.

Pet. Ay, in the main--But when I have a hu mour to contradict-

Wit. Ay, when he has a humour to contradict, then I contradict, too. What, I know my cue.

Then we contradict one another like two battledores; for contradictions beget one another, like Jews.

Pet. If he says black's black--If I have a humour to say 'tis blue-Let that pass-All's one for that. If I have a humour to prove it, it must be granted.

Wit. Not positively must-But it may-it

may.

Pet. Yes, it positively must, upon proof posi

tive.

Mill. Oh silly! Ha, ha, ha! I could laugh immoderately. Poor Mirabell! His constancy to me has quite destroyed his complaisance for all the world beside. I swear, I never enjoined it Wit. Ay, upon proof positive it must; but uphim, to be so coy-If I had the vanity to think on proof presumptive it only may. That's a lohe would obey me, I would command him togical distinction, now, madam. shew more gallantry. 'Tis hardly well-bred to be so particular on one hand, and so insensible on the other. But I despair to prevail, and so let him follow his own way. Ha, ha, ha! Pardon me, dear creature, 1 must laugh, ha, ha, ha! though, I grant you, 'tis a little barbarous, ha, ha, ha!

Mrs Mar. What pity 'tis, so much fine raillery, and delivered with so significant gesture, should be so unhappily directed to miscarry!

VOL. II.

Mrs Mar. I perceive your debates are of importance, and very learnedly handled. Pet. Importance is one thing, and learning is another; but a debate's a debate, that I assert. Wit. Petulant's au enemy to learning; he relies altogether on his parts.

Pet. No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me.

Mrs Mar. That's a sign indeed 'tis no enemy to you. 2 L

Pet. No, no, 'tis no enemy to any body, but them that have it.

Mill. Well, an illiterate man's my aversion. I wonder at the impudence of an illiterate man, to offer to make love.

Wit. That, I confess, I wonder at, too.

Mill. Ah! to marry an ignorant! that can hardly read or write.

Pet. Why should a man be any further from being married though he can't read, than he is from being hanged? The ordinary's paid for setting the psalm, and the parish priest for reading the ceremony. And for the rest which is to foldow in both cases, a man may do it without book--So all's one for that.

Mill. D'ye hear the creature? Lord, here's company! I'll be gone.

[Exeunt MILLAMANT and MINCING.

Enter SIR WILFULL WITWOULD, in a riding dress, and Footman.

Wit. In the name of Bartholomew and his fair, meant, sir. what have we here?

Mrs Mar. 'Tis your brother, I fancy. Don't you know him?

Wit. Not I-Yes, I think it is he---I've almost forgot him; I have not seen him since the revolution.

Foot. Sir, my lady's dressing. Here's company; if you please to walk in, in the mean time.

Sir Wil. Dressing! What, 'tis but morning here, I warrant, with you in London; we should count it towards afternoon in our parts, down in Shropshire-Why, then, belike my aunt han't dined yet---Ha, friend?

Foot. Your aunt, sir?

Sir Wil. My aunt, sir! yes, my aunt, sir, and your lady, sir; your lady is my aunt, sir-Why, what, dost thou not know me, friend? Why, then, send somebody hither, that does. How long hast thou lived with thy lady, fellow, ha?

Foot. A week, sir; longer than any in the house, except my lady's woman.

Sir Wil. Why, then, belike thou dost not know thy lady, if thou seest her; ha, friend?

Foot. Why, truly, sir, I cannot safely swear to her face in a morning, before she is dressed. 'Tis like I may give a shrewd guess at her by this time.

Sir Wil. Well, prithee, try what thou canst do; if thou canst not guess, inquire her out;dost hear, fellow? and tell her, her nephew, Sir Wilful Witwould, is in the house.

Foot. I shall, sir.

Sir Wil. Hold ye-hear me, friend; a word with you in your ear: Prithee, who are these gallants?

Foot. Really, sir, I cannot tell; there come so many here, 'tis hard to know them all. [Exit. Sir Wil. Oons, this fellow knows less than a starling; I don't think a' knows his own name.

Wit. Smoke the boots, the boots; Petulant, the boots; ha, ha, ha !

Pet. Sir, I presume upon the information of your boots.

Sir Wil. Why, 'tis like you may, sir: if you are not satisfied with the information of my boots, sir, if you will step to the stable, you may inquire further of my horse, sir.

sir!

Pet. Your horse, sir! your horse is an ass,

Sir Wil. Do you speak by way of offence, sir? Mrs Mar. The gentleman's merry, that's all, sir-S'life, we shall have a quarrel betwixt a horse and an ass, before they find one another You must not take any thing amiss from your friends, sir. You are among your friends, here, though it may be you don't know itIf I am not mistaken, you are sir Wilfull Witwould.

out.

Sir Wil. Right, lady; I am sir Wilfull Witwould; so I write myself; no offence to any body, I hope; and nephew to the lady Wishfort of this mansion.

sir?

no

Mrs Mar. Don't you know this gentleman,

Sir Wil. Hum! What, sure 'tis not-Yea, by'r lady but 'tis-'Sheart! I know not whether 'tis or Yea, but 'tis, by the wrekin. Brother Anthony! what Tony, i'faith! what, dost thou not know me? By'r lady nor I thee, thou art so belaced, and so beperiwigged 'Sheart! what dost not speak? art thou o'erjoyed?

Wit. 'Odso, brother, is it you? your servant, brother.

Sir Wil. Your servant! why yours, sir. Your servant again-'Sheart, and your friend and servant to that-And a--(puff) and a flap-dragon for your service, sir; and a hare's foot, and a hare's scut for your service, sir; an' you be se cold and so courtly!

Wit. No offence, I hope, brother.

Sir Wil. 'Sheart, sir, but there is, and much offence-A plague! is this your inns o'court breeding, not to know your friends and your relations, your elders, and your betters?

Wit. Why, brother Wilfull of Salop, you may be as short as a Shrewsbury cake, if you please; but I tell you, 'tis not modish to know relations in town. You think you're in the country, where great lubberly brothers slabber and kiss one another, when they meet, like a call of serjeants-'Tis not the fashion here; 'tis not, indeed, dear brother.

Sir Wil. I can't tell that; 'tis like I may, and 'tis like I may not. I am somewhat dainty in making a resolution; because, when I make it, I keep it. I don't stand shill I, shall I, then; if I say't, I'll do't: but I have thoughts to tarry a small matter in town, to learn somewhat of your lingo first, before I cross the seas. I'd gladly have a spice of your French, as they say, whereby to hold discourse in foreign countries.

Mrs Mar. Here's an academy in town for that and dancing, and curious acomplishments, calcu| lated purely for the use of grown gentlemen. Sir Wil. Is there? 'tis like there may.

Mrs Mar. No doubt, you will return very much improved.

Sir Wil. The fashion's a fool and you're a fop, dear brother. 'Sheart, I have suspected this-By'r lady, I conjectured you were a fop, since you began to change the style of your let-the ters, and write in a scrap of paper gilt round the edges, no bigger than a subpoena. I might expect this, when you left off honoured brother; and hoping you are in good health- -To begin with a Rat me, knight, I'm so sick of a last night's debauch-Ods heart, and then tell a familiar tale of a cock and a bull, and a wench and a bottle, and so conclude-You could write news before you were out of your time, when you lived with honest Pimple-Nose, the attorney of Furnival's inn-You could intreat to be remembered then to your friends round the wrekin. We could have gazettes, then, and Dawk's letter, and the Weekly Bill, till of late days.

Pet. 'Slife, Witwould, were you ever an attorney's clerk of the family of the Furnival's-Ha, ha, ha!

Wit. Aye, aye, but that was but for a while. Not long, not long; pshaw, was not in my own power, then. An orphan, and this fellow was my guardian; aye, aye, I was glad to consent to that, man, to come to London. He had the disposal of me, then. If I had not agreed to that, I might have been bound 'prentice to a felt-maker in Shrewsbury; this fellow would have bound me to a maker of felts.

Sir Wil. 'Sheart, and better than be bound to a maker of fops, where, I suppose, you have served your time; and now you may set up for yourself.

Mrs Mar. You intend to travel, sir, as I'm informed.

Sir Wil. Belike I may, madam. I may chance to sail upon the salt seas, if mind hold. my

Wit. Yes, refined like a Dutch skipper from whale-fishing.

Enter LADY WISHFORT and FAINALL. Lady Wish. Nephew, you are welcome. Sir Wil. Aunt, your servant. Fain. Sir Wilfull, your most faithful servant. Sir Wil. Cousin Fainall, give me your hand. Lady Wish. Cousin Witwould, your servant; -Nephew, you Mr Petulant, your servantyou drink any thing afare welcome again. Will ter your journey, nephew, before you eat? dinner's almost ready.

Sir Wil. I'm very well, I thank you, auntHowever, I thank you for your courteous offer. 'Sheart, I was afraid you would have been in the fashion, too, and have remembered to have forgot your relations. Here's your cousin Tony; belike I may'nt call him brother for fear of offence.

Lady Wish. O he's a rallier, nephew-My cousin's a wit and your great wits always rally their best friends to chuse. When you have been abroad, nephew, you'll understand raillery better.

[FAINALL and Mrs MARWOOD talk apart. Sir Wil. Why, then, let him hold his tongue in the mean time; and rail, when that day comes. Enter MINCING,

Min. Mem, I am come to acquaint your la'ship that dinner is impatient.

Sir Wil. Impatient! why, then, belike it won't stay, till I pull off my boots. Sweet-heart, can you help me to a pair of slippers? My man is with his horses, I warrant,

Lady Wish. Fy, fy, nephew! you would not pull off boots here-Go down into the hall. Dinner shall stay for you

your

[Exeunt MINCING and SIR WILfull. My nephew's a little unbred; you'll pardon him, madain. Gentlemen, will you walk? Marwood? Mrs Mar. I follow you, madain, before sir

Pet. And the wind serve. Sir Wil. Serye or not serve, I sha'nt ask licence of you, sir; nor the weather-cock your companion. I direct my discourse to the lady, sir; 'tis like my aunt may have told you, madam-Yes, I have settled my concerns, I may say now, and am minded to see foreign parts.-Wilfull is ready. If an how that the peace hold, whereby, that is, taxes abate.

Mrs Mar. I thought you had designed for France at all adventures.

[Exeunt LADY WISHFORT, PETULANT, and

WITWOULD.

Fain. Why, then, Foible's a procuress; an arrant, rank, match-making procuress. And I, it

seems, am a husband, a rank husband; and my Jealous of her I cannot be, for I am certain; so wife a very arrant, rank wife-all in the way of there's an end of jealousy. Weary of her, I am, the world. 'Sdeath! to be a cuckold by antici- and shall be-No. there's no end of that; no, pation, a cuckold in embryo! Sure I was born no, that were too much to hope. Thus far conwith budding antlers like a young satyr, or a ci- cerning my repose. Now, for my reputation. As tizen's child. 'Sdeath! to be outwitted, out-jilt-to my own, I married not for it; so that's out ed, out-matrimonied! If I had kept my speed of the question. And as to my part in my wife's like a stag, 'twere somewhat! but to crawl after, why, she had parted with hers before; so, with my horns like a snail, and be out-stripped bringing none to me, she can take none from by my wife-tis scurvy wedlock. me; 'tis against all rule of play, that I should lose to one, who has not wherewithal to stake. Mrs Mar. Besides you forget, marriage is honourable.

Fain. Hum! faith, and that's well thought on; marriage is honourable, as you say; and, if so, Fain. Aye, that had been mine, had you not wherefore should cuckoldom be a discredit, bemade that fond discovery; that had been forfei-ing derived from so honourable a root? ted, had they been married. My wife had added lustre to my dishonour by that increase of fortune. I could have worn them tipt with gold, though my forehead had been furnished like a deputy-lieutenant's hall,

SCENE I.-Continues.

Enter LADY WISHFORT and FOIBLE.

ACT IV.

Lady Wish. Is sir Rowland coming, say'st thou, Foible? and are things in order?

Foi. Yes, madam. I have put wax-lights in the sconces, and placed the footmen in a row in the hall, in their best liveries, with the coachman and postilion to fill up the equipage.

Lady Wish. Have you pulvilled the coachman

Mrs Fain. You are very fond of sir John
Suckling to-day, Millamant, and the poets.
Mil. He? aye, and filthy verses-So I am.
Foi. Sir Wilfull is coming, madam. Shall I

and postilion, that they may not stink of the sta-send Mr Mirabell away?
ble, when sir Rowland comes by?

Foi. Yes, madam.

Lady Wish. And are the dancers and the music ready, that he may be entertained in all pointwith correspondence to his passion?

Foi. All is ready, madam,

Mil. Aye, if you please, Foible, send him away-or send him hither-just as you will, dear oible. I think I'll see him-shall I? aye, let he wretch come.

Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train.

[Repeating

Lady Wish. And-well-and how do I look, Dear Fainall, entertain sir Wilfull-thou bast Foible?

Foi. Most killing well, madam.

philosophy to undergo a fool; thou art married, and hast patience I would confer with my own thoughts,

Mrs Fain, I am obliged to you, that you would make me your proxy in this affair; but I have business of my own.

Enter SIR WILFULL.

Lady Wish. Well, and how shall I receive him? in what figure shall I give his heart the first impression? there is a great deal in the first impression. Shall I sit? No, I won't sit-I'll walk-aye, I'll walk from the door upon his entrance; and then turn full upon him-no, that will be too sudden. I'll lie-aye, I'll lie downI'll receive him in my little dressing room. Oh! sir Wilful, you are come at the critical inThere's a couch-Yes, yes, I'll give the first im-stant. There's your mistress up to the ears in pression on a couch-I won't lie neither, but loll love and contemplation; pursue your point; now and lean upon one elbow, with one foot a little or never. dangling off, jogging in a thoughtful way-yesand then, as soon as he appears, start, aye, start and be surprised, and rise to meet him in a pretty disorder-yes-oh! nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusionit shews the foot to advantage, and furnishes with blushes, and recomposing airs beyond comparison. Hark! there's a coach.

Foi. 'Tis he, madam..

Lady Wish. O dear! has my nephew made his addresses to Millamant? I ordered him. Foi. Sir Wilfull is set in to drinking, madam, in the parlour.

Lady Wish. Odds my life, I'll send him to her. Call her down, Foible; bring her hither. I'll send him as I go when they are together, then come to me, Foible, that I may not be too long alone with sir Rowland.

[Exit LADY WISHFORT,

Enter MILLAMANT and MRS FAINALL.. Foi. Madam, I staid here, to tell your ladyship that Mr Mirabell has waited this half hour for an opportunity to talk with you, though my lady's orders were to leave you and sir Wilfull together. Shall I tell Mr Mirabell that you are at leisure?

Mil. No-what would the dear man have? I

Sir Wil. Yes; my aunt will have it so-I would gladly have been encouraged with a bottle or two, because I'm somewhat wary at first, before I am acquainted; but I hope, after a time, I shall break my mind-that is, upon further acquaintance This while MILLAMANT walks about, repeating to herself.]-So, for the present, cousin, I'll take my leave-if so be, you'll be so kind to make my excuse: I'll return to my company

Mrs Fain. O fy, sir Wilfull! what, you must not be daunted.

Sir Wil. Daunted! no, that's not it; it is not so much for that-for, if so be that I set on't, I'll do't. But only for the present, 'tis sufficient till further acquaintance, that's all-your servant.

Mrs Fain. Nay, I'll swear you shall never lose so favourable an opportunity, if I can help it.— I'll leave you together, and lock the door.

[Exeunt MRS FAINALL and FOIBLE. Sir Wil. Nay, nay, cousin-I have forgot my gloves. What d'ye do? 'Sheart, a' has locked the door, indeed. I think-nay, cousin Fainall, open the door-'Pshaw, what a vixen trick is this!nay, now, a' has seen me, too-cousin, I made bold to pass through, as it were-I think this door's enchanted

Mil. [Repeating.]