me by an affected refignation of her pretenfions to himI'll disappoint her, I won't know him. Syl. Coufin, pray, come forward; this is the gentleman I am fo much obliged to-Sir, this lady is a relarion of mine, and the perfon we are speaking of. At. I fhall be proud to be better known among any of your friends. [Salutes her. Clar. Soh! he takes the hint, I fee, and seems not to know me neither: I know not what to think.-I am confounded! I hate both him and her. How unconcerned he looks! Confufion! he addresses her before my face. [Afide. Lady Sadlife peeping in. Lady Sad. What do I fee? The pleafant young fellow that talked with me in the park juft now! This is the luckieft accident! I must know a little more of him. [Retires. Syl. Coufin, and Mr. Freeman, I think I need not make any apology-you both know the occafion of my leaving you together -in a quarter of an hour I'll wait on you again. [Exit Syl. At. So, I'm in a hopeful way now, faith; but buff's the word: I'll ftand it. Clar. Mr. Freeman! So, my gentleman has changed. his name too! How harmless he looks-I have my fenfes fure, and yet the demureness of that face looks as if he had a mind to perfuade me out of them. I could find in my heart to humour his affurance, and fee how far he'll carry it-Won't you please to fit, Sir? [They fit. At. What the devil can this mean?-Sure fhe has a mind to counterface me, and not know me too -With all my heart: if her ladyship won't know me, I'm fure 'tis not my business at this time to know her. Clar. Certainly that face is cannon proof, [Afide. [Afide. At. Now for a formal fpeech, as if I had never seen her in my life before. [Afide.] Madam-a hem! Madam,-I-a hem! Clar. Curfe of that steady face. [Afide. At. I fay, Madam, fince I am an utter ftranger to you, I am afraid it will be very difficult for me to offer you more arguments than one to do me a friendship with your coufin; but if you are, as fhe feems to own you, her real B 3 friend, friend, I prefume you can't give her a better proof of your being fo, than pleading the cause of a fincere and humble lover, whofe tender wifhes never can propose to tate of peace in life without her. Clar. Umph! I'm choaked. [Afide At. She gave me hopes, that when I had fatisfied you of my birth and fortune, you would do me the honour to let me know her name and family. Clar. Sir, I must own you are the most perfect master of your art, that ever entered the lifts of affurance. At. Madam! Clar. And I don't doubt but you'll find it a much eafier tafk to impofe upon my coufin, than me. At. Impose, Madam! I fhould be forry any thing I have faid could difoblige you into fuch hard thoughts of me. Sure, Madam, you are under fome mifinformation. Clar. I was indeed, but now my eyes are open; for, till this minute, I never knew that the gay Colonel Standfaft, was the demure Mr. Freeman. At. Col. Standfaft! This is extremely dark, Madam. Clar. This jeft is tedious, Sir-impudence grows dull, when 'tis fo very extravagant. At. Madam, I am a gentleman-but not yet wife enough, I find, to account for the humours of a fine lady. Clar. Troth, Sir, on fecond thoughts I begin to be a little better reconciled to your affurance; 'tis in fome fort modesty to deny yourfelf; for to own your perjuries to my face, had been an infolence tranfcendently provoking. At. Really, Madam, my not being able to apprehend one word of all this is a great inconvenience to my affair with your coufin: but if you will firft do me the honour to make me acquainted with her name and family, I don't much care if I do take a little pains afterwards to come to a right understanding with you. Elar. Come, come, fince you fee this affurance will do you no good, you had better put on a fimple look, and generously confefs your frailties: the fame flyness that deceived me first, will ftill find me woman enough to pardon you. At. That bite won't do. [Afide.] Sure, Madam, you mistake me for fome other perfon. Clar. Clar. Infolent! audacious villain! I am not to have my fenfes then! At. No. [Afide Clar. And you are resolved to stand it to the last! [Afide. Clar. Well, Sir, fince you are so much a stranger to Colonel Standfaft, I'll tell you where to find him, and tell him this from me; I hate him, fcorn, deteft, and loath him: I never meant him but at beft for my diverfion, and should he ever renew his dull addreffes to me, I'll have him used as his vain infolence deferves. Now, Sir, I have no more to say, and I defire you would leave the houfe immediately. At. I would not willingly difoblige you, Madam, but 'tis impoffible to ftir 'till I have feen your coufin, and cleared myself of these strange afperfions. Clar. Don't flatter yourself, Sir, with fo vain a hope, for I must tell you, once for all, you've feen the last of her; and if you won't be gone, you'll oblige me to have you forced away. At. I'll be even with you. [Afide.] Well, Madam, fince I find nothing can prevail upon your cruelty, I'll take my leave: but as you hope for juftice on the man that wrongs you, at least be faithful to your lovely friend. And when you have named to her my utmoft guilt, yet paint my paffion as it is, fincere. Tell her what tortures I endured in this fevere exclufion from her fight, that 'till my innocence is clear to her, and fhe again receives me into mercy, A madman's frenzy's heav'n to what I feel; The wounds you give 'tis fhe alone can heal. [Exit. Clar. Moft abandoned impudence! And yet I know not which vexes me moft, his out-facing my fenfes, or his infolent owning his paffion for my coufin to my face : 'tis impoffible fhe could put him upon this, it must be all his own; but be it as it will, by all that's woman I'll have revenge. [Exit. Re-enter Atall and Lady Sadlife at the other fide. At. Hey-day! is there no way down ftairs here? Death! I can't find my way out! This is the oddeft houfeLady Sad. Here he is-I'll venture to pafs by him. At. Pray, Madam, which is the nearest way out? Lady . Lady Sad. Sir, out-a At. Oh, my ftars! is't you, Madam, this is fortunate indeed-I beg you'll tell me, do you live here, Madam ? Lady Sad. Not very far off, Sir: but this is no place to talk with you alone-indeed I must beg your pardon. At. By all thofe kindling charms that fire my foul, no confequence on earth fhall make me quit my hold, till you've given me fome kind affurance that I fhall fee you again, and speedily: 'egad I'll have one out of the family at least. Lady Sad. Oh, good, here's company ! At. Oh, do not rack me with delays, but quick, bei fore this dear fhort-lived opportunity's loft, inform me where you live, or kill me: to part with this foft white hand is ten thousand daggers to my heart. [Kiffing it eagerly. Lady Sad. Oh, lud! I am going home this minute; and if you fhould offer to dog my chair, I protest Iwas ever fuch ufage-lord down then. fure! Oh-follow me Re-enter Clarinda, and Sylvia. Syl. Ha, ha, ha! [Exeunt. Clar. Nay, you may laugh, Madam, but what I tell you is true. Syl. Ha, ha, ha! Clar. You don't believe then? Syl. I do believe, that when some women are inclined to like a man, nothing more palpably discovers it, than their railing at him; ha, ha!-Your pardon, coufin; you know you laughed at me juft now upon the fame oc cafion. Clar. The occafion's quite different, Madam; I hate him. And, once more I tell you, he's a villain, you're impofed on. He's a colonel of foot, his regiment's now in Spain, and his name's Standfast. Syl. But pray, good coufin, whence had you this intel ligence of him? Clar. From the fame place that count, Madam, his own mouth. you had your false ac Syl. What was his business with you? Clar. Much about the fame, as his bufinefs with you -love. Syl. Syl. Love! to you! Clar. Me, Madamn! Lord, what am I? Old, or a monster! Is it fo prodigious that a man fhould like me? Syl. No! but I'm amazed to think, if he had liked you, he fhould leave you fo foon, for me! Clar. For you! leave me for you! No, Madam, I did not tell you that neither! ha, ha! Syl. No! What made you fo violently angry with him then? Indeed, coufin, you had better take fome other fairer way; this artifice is much too weak to make me break with him. But, however, to let you see I can be still a friend; prove him to be what you fay he is, and my engagements with him fhall foon be over. Clar. Look you, Madam, not but I flight the tendereft of his addreffes; but to convince you that my vanity was not mistaken in him, I'll write to him by the name of Colonel Standfaft, and do you the fame by that of Freeman; and let's each appoint him to meet us at my Lady Sadlife's at the fame time: if these appear two different men, I think our difpute's eafily at an end; if but one, and he does not own all I've faid of him to your face, I'll make you a very humble curt'fy, and beg your pardon. Syl. And if he does own it, I'll make your ladyfhip the fame reverence, and beg yours. Enter Clerimont. Clar. Piha! he here! Cler. I am glad to find you in fuch good company, Madam. Clar. One's feldom long in good company, Sir. Cler. I am forry mine has been fo troublesome of late; but I value your ease at too high a rate, to disturb it. [Going. Syl. Nay, Mr. Clerimont, upon my word you fhan't ftir. Hark you-[Whispers.] Your pardon, coufin. Clar. I must not lofe him neither-Mr. Clerimont's way is, to be fevere in his construction of people's meaning. Sy, I'll write my letter, and be with you, coufin. [Ex. Cler. It was always my principle, Madam, to have an humble opinion of my merit; when a woman of sense frowns upon me, I ought to think I deferve it. Clar. |