and trouble of having or keeping her; and, to be free, I have found so much, even in my acquaintance with you, whom I confess to be a mistress in the art of pleasing, that I am, from henceforth, resolved to follow no pleasure that rises above the degree of amusement-And that woman that expects I should make her my busi-❘ ness, why-like my business, is then in a fair way of being forgot. When once she comes to reproach me with vows, and usage, and stuff--I had as lief hear her talk of bills, bonds, and ejectments: her passion becomes as troublesome as a law-suit, and I would as soon converse with my solicitor. In short, I shall never care sixpence for any woman that won't be obedient.

Lady Grave. I'll swear, sir, you have a very free way of treating people; I am glad I am so well acquainted with your principles, however--And you would have me obedient?

Sir Cha. Why not? My wife's so; and, I think, she has as much pretence to he proud as your ladyship.

Lady Grave. Lard! is there no chair to be had, I wonder?

Enter EDGING.

Edg. Here's a chair, madam.

Lady Grave. 'Tis very well, Mrs Edging:pray, will you let somebody get me a glass of fair water?

Edg. Humph-her huff is almost over, I suppose--I see he's a villain still. [Aside. Exit.

Lady Grave. Well, that was the prettiest fancy about obedience, sure, that ever was. Certainly, a woman of condition must be infinitely happy under the dominion of so generous a lover. But how came you to forget kicking and whipping all this while? Methinks, you should not have left so fashionable an article out of your scheme of government.

Sir Cha. Um-No, there is too much trouble in that; though I have known them of admirable use in reformation of some humoursome gentlewomen.

Lady Grave. But one thing more, and I have done--Pray, what degree of spirit must the lady have, that is to make herself happy under so much freedom, order, and tranquillity?

Sir Cha. Oh, she must at least have as much spirit as your ladyship, or she'd give me no pleasure in breaking it.

Lady Grave. No, that would be troublesome. You had better take one that's broken to your hand there are such souls to be hired, I believe; things that will rub your temples in an evening, till you fall fast asleep in their laps; creatures, too, that think their wages their reward. I fancy, at last, that will be the best method for the lazy passion of a married man, that has outlived his any other sense of gratification.

Sir Cha. Look you, madain; I have loved you very well a great while; now you would

have me love you better and longer, which is not in my power to do; and I don't think there is any plague upon earth, like a dun that comes for more money than one is ever likely to be able to pay.

Lady Grave. A dun! Do you take me for a dun, sir? Do I come a dunning to you?

[Walks in a heat. Sir Cha. Hist! don't expose yourself-here's company

Lady Grave. I care not—A dun! you shall see, sir, I can revenge an affront, though I despise the wretch that offers it------A dun! Oh, I could die with laughing at the fancy! [Exit.

Sir Cha. So---she's in admirable order-Here comes my lord; and, I'm afraid, in the very nick of his occasion for her.

Enter LORD MORELOVE.

Lord Mor. Oh, Charles, undone again! all is lost and ruined.

Sir Cha. What's the matter now?

Lord Mor. I have been playing the fool yonder, even to contempt; my senseless jealousy has confessed a weakness I never shall forgive myself. She has insulted on it to that degree, too--I can't bear the thought-----Oh, Charles, this devil is mistress of my heart! and I could dash my brains out to think how grossly too I have let her

know it.

Sir Cha. Ah, how it would tickle her if she saw you in this condition! ha, ha, ha! Lord Mor. Prithee don't torture me: think of some present ease, or I shall burst.

Sir Cha. Well, well; let's hear, pray-What has she done to you? Ha, ha!

Lord Mor. Why, ever since I left you, she has treated me with so much coolness and ill nature, and that thing of a lord, with so much laughing ease, such an acquainted, such a spiteful familiarity, that, at the last, she saw and triumphed in my uneasiness.

Sir Cha. Well, and so you left the room in a pet? Ha!

Lord Mor. Oh, worse, worse still! for, at last, with half shame and anger in my looks, I thrust myself between my lord and her, pressed her by the hand, and, in a whisper, trembling, begged her, in pity of herself and me, to shew her good humour, only where she knew it was truly valued at which, she broke from me, with a cold smile, sat her down by the peer, whispered him, and burst into a loud laughter in my face.

Sir Cha. Ha, ha! then would I have given fifty pounds to have seen your face. Why, what in the name of common sense had you to do with humility? Will you never have enough on't? Death! 'twas setting a lighted match to gunpowder, to blow yourself up.

Lord Mor. I see my folly now, Charles. But what shall I do with the remains of life that she has left me?

Sir Cha. Oh, throw it at her feet, by all means! put on your tragedy-face, catch fast hold of her petticoat, whip out your handkerchief, and, in point blank verse, desire her, one way or other, to make an end of the business.

[In a whining tone. Lord Mor. What a fool dost thou make me! Sir Cha. I only can shew you as you came out of her hands, my lord.

Lord Mor. How contemptibly have I behaved myself!

Sir Cha. That's according as you bear her behaviour.

Lord Mor. Bear it! no-I thank thee, Charles; thou hast waked me now: and, if I bear itWhat have you done with my lady Graveairs?

Sir Cha. Your business, I believe-She's ready for you; she's just gone down stairs, and, if you don't make haste after her, I expect her back again, with a knife or a pistol presently. Lord Mor. I'll go this minute.

Sir Cha. No, stay a little here comes my lord; we'll see what we can get out of him first. Lord Mor. Methinks, now, I could laugh at her.

Enter LORD FOPPINGTON.

Lord Fop. Nay, prithee, Sir Charles, let's have a little of thee- -We have been so chagrin without thee, that, stop my breath, the ladies are gone half asleep to church for want of thy company.

Sir Cha. That's hard, indeed, while your lordship was among them. Is lady Betty gone, too? Lord Fop. She was just upon the wing; but I caught her by the snuff-box, and she pretends to stay, to see if I'll give it her again, or no.

Lord Mor. Death! 'tis that I gave her, and the only present she would ever receive from me -Ask him low he came by it.

[Aside to SIR CHARLES. Sir Cha. Prithee don't be uneasy-Did she give it you, my lord?

Lord Fop. Faith, Charles, I can't say she did, or she did not; but we were playing the fool, and I took it--à la-Pshaw! I can't tell thee in French neither; but Horace touches it to a nicety 'twas pignus direptum malè pertinaci. Lord Mor. So-but I must bear itlordship has a mind to the box, I'll stand by you in keeping of it.

-If your

Lord Fop. My lord, I am passionately obliged to you; but I am afraid I cannot answer your hazarding so much of the lady's favour.

Lord Mor. Not at all, my lord: 'tis possible I may not have the same regard to her frown that your lordship has.

Lord Fop. That's a bite, I am sure-he'd give a joint of his little finger to be as well with her as I am [Aside.] But here she comes-Charles, stand by mc- -Must not a man be a vain coxcomb, now, to think this creature followed one?

Sir Cha. Nothing so plain, my lord. Lord Fop. Flattering devil!

Enter LADY Betty.

Lady Bet. Pshaw, my lord Foppington! prithee, don't play the fool now, but give me my snuff-box-Sir Charles, help me to take it from him.

Sir Cha. You know I hate trouble, madam. Lady Bet. Pooh! you'll make me stay till prayers are half over now.

Lord Fop. If you'll promise me not to go to church, I'll give it you.

Lady Bet. I'll promise nothing at all; for positively, I will have it. [Struggling with him. Lord Fop. Then, comparatively, I won't part with it. Ha, ha! [Struggles with her. Lady Bet. Oh, you devil, you have killed my arm! Oh!- -Well, if you'll let me have it, I'll give you a better.

Lord Mor. Oh, Charles! that has a view of distant kindness in it. [Aside to SIR CHARLES. Lord Fop. Nay, now, I keep it superlativelyI find there's a secret value in it.

Lady Bet. Oh, dismal! Upon my word, I am only ashamed to give it to you. Do you think I would offer such an odious fancied thing to any body I had the least value for?

Sir Cha. Now it comes a little nearer, methinks it does not seem to be any kindness at all. [Aside to LORD MORELOVE.

Lord Fop. Why, really, madam, upon second view, it has not extremely the mode of a lady's utensil. Are you sure it never held any thing but snuff?

Lady Bet. Oh, you monster!

Lord Fop. Nay, I only ask, because it seems to me to have very much the air and fancy of Monsieur Smoakandsot's tobacco-box.

Lord More. I can bear no more. Sir Cha. Why, don't, then; I'll step in to the company, and return to your relief immediately. [Exit SIR CHA.

Lord More. [To LADY BET.] Come, madam, will your ladyship give me leave to end the difference? Since the slightness of the thing may let you bestow it without any mark of favour, shall I beg it of your ladyship.

Lady Bet. Oh, my lord, nobody sooner—I beg you give it, my lord. [Looking earnestly on LORD FOP. who, smiling, gives it to LORD MORE. and then bows gravely to her.]

Lord More. Only to have the honour of restoring it to your lordship; and if there be any other trifle of mine your lordship has a fancy to, though it were a mistrsss, I don't know any person in the world that has so good a claim to my resignation.

Lord Fop. Oh, my lord, this generosity will distract me!

Lord More. My lord, I do you but common justice. But, from your conversation, I had ne

But

Lord More. It often hides her heart, my lord; and therefore I think it sometimes a more dangerous mask than a piece of velvet: that's rather a mark, than a disguise, of an ill woman. the mischiefs skulking behind a beauteous form give no warning; they are always sure, fatal, and innumerable.

Lady Bet. Oh, barbarous aspersion! My lord Foppington, have you nothing to say for the poor women?

Lord Fop. I must confess, madam, nothing of this nature ever happened in my course of amours. I always judge the beauteous part of a woman to be the most agreeable part of her composition; and when once a lady does me the honour to toss that into my arms, I think myself obliged, in good nature, not to quarrel about the rest of her equipage.

Lady Bet. Why, ay, my lord, there's some good humour in that, now.

Lord More. He's happy in a plain English stomach, madam; I could recommend a dish that's perfectly to your lordship's goût, where beauty is the only sauce to it.

Lady Bet. So

Lord Fop. My lord, when my wine's right, I never care it should be zested.

Lord More. I know some ladies would thank you for that opinion.

Lady Bet. My lord Morelove is really grown such a churl to the women, I don't only think he is not, but can't conceive how he ever could be, in love.

Lord More. Upon my word, madam, I once thought I was. [Smiling. Lady Bet. Fie, fie! how could you think so? I fancy now you had only a mind to domineer over some poor creature, and so you thought you were in love, ha, ha!

Lord More. The lady I loved, madam, grew so unfortunate in her conduct, that, at last, she VOL. II.

brought me to treat her with the same indifference and civility as I now pay your ladyship.

Lady Bet. And, ten to one, just at that time she never thought you such tolerable company. Lord More. That I can't say, madam; for, at that time, she grew so affected, there was no judging of her thoughts at all. [Mimicking her. Lady Bet. What, and so you left the poor lady! Oh, you inconstant creature!

Lord More. No, madam, to have loved her on had been inconstancy; for she was never two hours together the same woman.

[LADY BET. and LORD MORE. seem to talk. Lord Fop. [Aside.] Ha, ha, ha! I see he has a mind to abuse her; so I'll even give him an opportunity of doing his business with her at once for ever-My lord, I perceive your lordship is going to be good company to the lady; and, for her sake, I don't think it good manners in me to disturb you

Enter SIR CHARLES.
Sir Cha. My lord Foppington-

Lord Fop. Oh, Charles! I was just wanting thee-Hark thee-I have three thousand secrets for thee--I have made such discoveries! to tell thee all in one word, Morelove's as jealous of me as the devil, he, he, he!

Sir Cha. Is it possible? Has she given him any occasion?

Lord Fop. Only rallied him to death upon my account; she told me, within, just now, she'd use him like a dog, and begged me to draw off for an opportunity.

Sir Cha. Oh, keep in, while the scent lies, and she is your own, my lord.

Lord Fop. I can't tell that, Charles; but I am sure she is fairly unharboured; and when once I throw off my inclinations, I usually follow them till the game has enough on't: and, between thee and I, she is pretty well blown, too; she can't stand long, I believe; for, curse catch me, if I have not rid down half a thousand pounds after her already.

Sir Cha. What do you mean?

Lord Fop. I have lost five hundred to her at piquet since dinner.

Sir Cha. You are a fortunate man, faith! you are resolved not to be thrown out, I see.

Lord Fop. Hang it, what should a man come out for, if he does not keep up to the sport? Sir Cha. Well pushed, my lord.

Lord Fop. Tayo! have at her

Sir Cha, Down, down, my lord-ah! 'ware haunches!

Lord Fop. Ah, Charles! [Embracing him.] Prithee, let's observe a little: there's a foolish cur, now I have run her to a stand, has a mind to be at her by himself, and thou shalt see, she won't sir out of her way for him. 3 G

[They stand aside.

Lord More. Ha, ha! your ladyship is very grave of a sudden; you look as if your lover had insolently recovered his common sense.

Lady Bet. And your lordship is so very gay, and unlike yourself, one would swear you were just come from the pleasure of making your mistress afraid of you.

Lord More. No, faith, quite contrary; for, do you know, madam, I have just found out, that, upon your account, I have made myself one of the most ridiculous puppies upon the face of the earth- I have, upon my faith-nay, and so extravagantly such, ha, ha, ha! that it is at last become a jest even to myself; and I can't help laughing at it for the soul of me, ha, ha, ha!

Lady Bet. I want to cure him of that laugh, now. Aside.] My lord, since you are so geneI rous, I'll tell you another secret-Do you know, too, that I still find, (spite of all your great wisdom, and my contemptible qualities, as you are pleased, now and then, to call them) do you know, I say, that I see, under all this, that you still love me with the same helpless passion? and can your vast foresight imagine I won't use you accordingly for these extraordinary airs you are pleased to give yourself?

Lord More. Oh, by all means, madam! 'tis fit you should; and I expect it, whenever it is in your power-Confusion! [Aside. Lady Bet. My lord, you have talked to me this half hour, without confessing pain. [Pauses, and affects to gape.] Only remember it,

Lord More. Hell and tortures!
Lady Bet. What did you say, my lord?
Lord More. Fire and furies!

Lady Bet. Ha, ha! he's disordered-Now I am easy My lord Foppington, have you a mind to your revenge at piquet?

Lord Fop. I have always a mind to an opportunity of entertaining your ladyship, madam.

[LADY BET. Coquettes with LORD For. Lord More. Oh, Charles! the insolence of woman might furnish out a thousand devils.

Sir Cha. And your temper is enough to furnish out a thousand such women. Come away; I have business for you upon the terrace.

Lord More. Let me but speak one word to her,

Sir Cha. Not a syllable. The tongue's a weapon you'll always have the worst at; for I see you have no guard, and she carries a devilish edge.

Lady Bet. My lord, don't let any thing I have said frighten you away; for, if you have the least inclination to stay and rail, you know the old conditions; 'tis but your asking me pardon the next day, and you may give your passion any liberty you think fit.

Lord More. Daggers and death!

Sir Cha. Is the man distracted?

Sir Cha. Upon condition you'll speak no more of her to me; my lord, do as you please. Lord More. Prithee, pardon me—I know not what to do.

Sir Cha. Come along; I'll set you to work, I warrant you-Nay, nay, none of your parting ogles Will you go?

Lord More. Yes-and I hope for ever

[Exit SIR CHA. pulling away LORD MORE. Lord Fop. Ha, ha, ha! Did ever mortal monster set up for a lover with such unfortunate qualifications?

Lady Bet. Indeed, my lord Morelove has something strangely singular in his manner.

Lord Fop. I thought I should have burst to see the creature pretend to rally, and give himself the airs of one of us--But, run me through, madam, your ladyship pushed like a fencing master! that last thrust was a coup de grace, 1 be lieve: I'm afraid his honour will hardly meet your ladyship in haste again.

Lady Bet. Not unless his second, sir Charles, keeps him better in practice, perhaps Well, the humour of this creature has done me signal service to-day. I must keep it up, for fear of a second engagement. [Aside.

Lord Fop. Never was poor wit so foiled at his own weapon, sure!

it?

Lady Bet. Wit! had he ever any pretence to

Lord Fop. Ha, ha! he has not much in love, I think, though he wears the reputation of a very pretty young fellow among some sort of people; but strike me stupid if ever I could discover common sense in all the progress of his amours: he expects a woman should like him for endeavouring to convince her, that she has not one good quality belonging to the whole composition of her soul and body.

Lady Bet. That, I suppose, is only in a modest hope, that she'll mend her faults, to qualify herself for his vast merit, ha, ha !

Lord Fop. Poor Morelove! I see she can't endure him. [Aside.

Lady Bet. Or if one really had all those faults, he does not consider, that sincerity in love is as much out of fashion as sweet snuff; nobody takes it now.

Lord Fop. Oh, no mortal, madam, unless it be here and there a squire, that's making his lawful court to the cherry-cheek charms of my lord bishop's great fat daughter in the country.

Lady Bet. O what a surfeiting couple has he put together!

[Throwing her hand carelessly upon his. Lord Fop. Fond of me, by all that's tender!Poor fool! I'll give thee ease immediately. [Aside.] But, madam, you were pleased just now to offer me my revenge at picquet-Now, here's nobo

better opportunity,