Sir Cha. Has it ever appeared to you, Madam, that Faddle was a confidant of Mr. Belmont's? Fid. Never, Sir. On the contrary, a wretch most heartily defpifed by him. Fad. If the should be a little mistaken now. [Afide. Sir Cha. Can you guess at any other means of his coming to a knowledge of you? Fid. None that I know of, Sir.. Fad. Faith, I believe her. [Afide. Sir Cha. One queftion more, Madam, and I have done. Did Mr. Belmont ever folicit your removing from this house? Fid. Never directly, Sir. He has often, when we have been alone, quarrelled with himself for bringing me into it. Sir Cha. I thank you, Madam. And if my enquia. ries have been at any time too importunate, allow them to the warmth of an honest friendship for I have a heart that feels for your diftreffes, and beats to relieve them. Fid. I have no words, Sir Charles; let my tears thank you. Sir Cha. Be compofed, my child. And if Rofetta's fufpicions grow violent, I have apartments ready to receive you, with fuch welcome, as virtue fhould find with. one who loves it. Fid. Still, Sir Charles, my tears are all that I can thank you with- for this goodness is too much for me. Fad. And fo fhe's a bit for the old gentleman at last !! Rare news for Charles or with a little addition I fhall make it fo. But I must decamp, to avoid danger. [Afide, and exit.. Sir Cha. Dry up your tears, Fidelia. For, if my conjectures are well grounded, before night, perhaps, fome-thing may be done to ferve you. And fo I leave you to your best thoughts. [Exit. Fid. Then I have one friend left. How long I am to hold him, Heaven knows. 'Tis a fickle world, and nothing in it is lafting, but misfortune-yet I'll have patience; D3 That That sweet relief, the healing hand of Heav'n END of the THIRD ACT. [Exit. ROSETTA.. Tell you, I will not be talked to. Col. 'Tis my unhappiness, Madam, to raise no paffion in you, but anger. Rof. You are mistaken, Colonel. I am not angry, tho' I anfwer fo. My gaiety has been disturbed to-day; and gravity always fits upon me like ill-humour. Fidelia has engroffed me, and you are talking of yourself. What would you have me say? Col. That your neglect of me has been diffembled, and that I have leave to love you, and to hope for you. Ref. This is very strange now! Why 'tis not in your power to avoid loving me, whether you have leave to hope or not. And as to my diffembling, I know nothing of that all I know is, that I'm a woman, and women, I fuppofe, diffemble fometimes-I don't pretend to be a bit better than a woman. Col. Be a kind one, and you're an angel. Rof. Why there now! when if I wanted to be an angel, the very kindness that made me one, would leave me in a month or two, a mere forfaken woman. No, no, Colonel! ignorance is the mother of love, as well as devotion. We are angels before you know us to be women, and lefs than women, when you know us to be no angels. If you would be pleased with the tricks of a juggler, never enquire how they are done. Col. Right, Madam, where the entertainment confifts only in the deceit. Rof. Rof. And philofophers will tell you, that the only happinefs of life is to be well deceived. Col. 'Tis the philofophy of fools, Madam. Is the pleasure that arifes from virtue a cheat? Or is there no happiness in conferring obligations, where the receiver wifhes to be obliged, and labours to return? 'Tis the happiness of divinity, to diftribute good, and be paid with gratitude. Rof. But to give all at once, would be to lofe the power of obliging. Col. And to deny all, would be to lose the pleasure of obliging. Ref. But where the gift is trifling, you know Col. That trifle, if lent to another's management, might make both rich, Rof. This is playing at cross-purpofes. But if I were inclined to liften, what have you to fay in favour of matrimony? Col. To fools, Madam, 'tis the jewel of fop's cock; but to the wife, a diamond of price, in a skilful hand, to enrich life.' 'Tis happinefs, or mifery, as minds are differently difpofed. The neceffary requifites are love, good fenfe, and good breeding. The first to unite, the fecond to advise, and the third to comply. If you add to these, neatness and a competency, beauty will always pleafe, and family cares become agreeable amufe ments. Rof. And yet I have known a very miferable couple, with all thefe requifites. Col. Never, if you'll believe me, Rofetta--They have worn them in public, and may have diffembled with fuccefs. But marriage-intimacies deftroy diffimulation And if their private hours have known no enjoyment, there must have been wanting, either the affection that should unite, the understanding that fhould advise, or the complacency that should oblige.' Rof. Do you know, now, that you never pleased me fo much in all your life? Col. If fo, Rofetta, one question, and then to apply. that that you and I could muster up these requifites between us? Rof. Let me confider a little pray? Col. Both of us. Who must have love, Rof. No, I have no mind to have any thing to do with love. Do you take that, and give me understanding, to advife. So then you chufe again, and have all the goodbreeding, for compliance; then I neatnefs; and last of all, competency fhall be divided between us.' Col. A match, Madam, upon your own terms. 'But ' if ever you should take it into your head to difpute love with me, what other requifite are you willing to give up ⚫ for it? Rof. Why, neatnefs, I think; 'tis of little ufe to a married woman, you know. Col. A trifle, Madain.' But when are we to come together? Senfe Rof. As foon as we can give proof that these ingredients are between us-In a few years, perhaps. Col. If our virtues fhould ftarve in that time? Rof. Piha!-You know nothing of the matter. will improve every day, and love and good-breeding live an age, if we don't marry them. But we'll have done with these matters; for I can keep the ball up no longer. You did not say Fidelia upbraided me? Col. The very reverfe. 'Twas her only affliction, she faid, that you had reafon to think hardly of her. Rof. Poor girl! If you would make love to me with fuccefs, Colonel, clear up thefe perplexities. Suppofe I was to difmifs my pride a little, and make her a visit with you? Col. 'Twould be a kind one. Ref. Lead on then; for, in fpite of my refentments," I have no heart to keep from her.. SCENE, another Apartment. Enter Young Belmont and Faddle.. Bel. If this fhould be invention, Faddle? [Exeunt Fad. I tell, thee, I was behind the fcreen, and heard every fyllable on Why, I'll fay it to his face, pr'ythee. Bela Bel. What, that he propofed to take her into keeping, and that the confented? Fad. Not in those words, man-No, no, Sir Charles is a gentleman of politer elocution. Pray, child, fays he, did Young Belmont ever propofe your removing from this houfe? No, Sir, fays the, but he has cursed himself to damnation for bringing me into it. [Mimicking Sir Charles and Fidelia.] Well, child, fays he, the thing may be done to-night; apartments are ready for you. And then, in a lower voice, he faid fomething about virtue, that I could not very well hear; but I faw it fet the girl a crying. And prefently, in answer to a whifper of his, I heard her fay, in a very pretty manner, that fhe thought it was too much for her. But what his proposals were, the devil a fyllable could I hear. Bel. Ha, ha!-Yonder he is, Faddle, and coming this way. We must not be seen together. Fad. For a little fport, Charles, fuppofe I fling myself in his way, and make intereft to be commode to him, ha! Bel. And get thy nofe twifted for thy pains? Fad. Why, I can run, if I can't fight, pr'ythee. Bel. Faith, I never doubted thee that way, I'll to my room, then, and wait for thee. Fad. But leave the door open, Charles. Bel. Ha, ha, ha!-You'll not be tedious, Sir. [Exit. Fad. If the old gentleman fhould be in his airs tho'Servant, fervant, Sir Charles. Sir Cha. Oh, Sir, you are the man I was looking for! Fad. If I can be of any service, Sir Charles-What, and fo-ha!Faith, you're a fly one- But you old poachers have fuch a way with you?Why here has Charles been racking his brains for ways and means, any time these three months; and juft in the nick, foufe comes me down the old kite and, alack-a-day, poor chick-the business is done. Sir Cha. Make yourself a little intelligible, Sir. Fad. And fo, I don't speak plain, ha ?-Oh, the little rogue! There's more beauty in the veins of her neck, than in a landfcape of Claude; and more mufic in the fmack of her lips, than in all Handel! Sir Cha. Let me understand you, Sir. Fad. Methinks 'twas very laconic, tho' If Rofet ta's |