Which ere To-morrow fhall be done-had you but Patience.

Lady Touch. How? what faid you, Mask-well?— Another Caprice, to unwind my Temper?

Mafkw. By Heaven, no; I am your Slave, the Slave of all your Pleasures; and will not rest till I have given you Peace, would you fuffer me.

Lady Touchw. O Mafkwell! in vain I do disguise me from thee; thou knowest me, knowest the very inmoft Windings and Receffes of my Soul.-OF Mellefont! I burn! Married Tomorrow! Despair ftrikes me. Yet my Soul knows I hate him too: Let him but once be mine, and next immediate Ruin feize him.

Mafkw. Compose yourself, you fhall poffefs and ruin him too. Will that pleafe you?

Lady Touchw. How, how? Thou dear, thou precious Villain! how?

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

Lady Touchw. I have: She is ready for any Impreffion I think fit.

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

Lady Touchw. She is fo credulous that Way naturally, and likes him fo well, that she will believe it fafter than I can perfuade her. But I don't fee what you can propofe from fuch a trifling Defign; for her first converfing with Mellefont will convince her of the

contrary.

Majhw. I know it-I don't depend upon itBut it will prepare fomething elfe; and gain us Leifure to lay a stronger 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.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

ACT

ACT II.

SCENE I.

I

Lady FROTH and CYNTHIA.

Cynth.NDEED, Madam! Is it poffible your Ladyfhip could have been fo much in

Love?

Lady Froth. I could not fleep one Wink for three Weeks together.

Cynth. Prodigious! I wonder, Want of Sleep, and fo much Love, and fo much Wit as your Ladyship has, did not turn your Brain.

Lady Froth, O my dear Cynthia, you must not railly 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. Cynth. How pray, Madam?

Lady Froth. OI writ, writ abundantly-Do you

never write?

Cynth. Write, what?

Lady Froth. Songs, Elegies, Satires, Encomiums, Panegyrics, Lampoons, Plays, or Heroic Poems.

Cynth. O Lord! not I, Madam; I'm content to be a courteous Reader.

Lady 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 bless me! What a fad Thing would that have been, if my Lord and f fhould never have met !

Cynth. Then neither my Lord nor you would ever have met with your Match, on my Confcience.

Lady Froth. On my Confcience, no more we should; thou fayeft right-for, fure, my Lord Froth is as fine

a Gen

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 Star, to make him shine the very Phofphorus of our Hemifphere. Do you understand thofe two hard Words? If you don't, l'il explain them to you.

Cynth. Yes, yes, Madam, I'm not fo ignorantAt least I won't own it, to be troubled with your Inftructions!

[Afide.

Lady Froth. Nay, I beg your Pardon! but, being derived from the Greek, I thought you might have efcaped the Etymology. But I'm the more amazed, to find you a Woman of Letters, and not write! Blefs me! how can Mellefont believe you love him?

Cynth. Why faith, Madam, he that won't take my Word, fhall never have it under my Hand.

Lady Froth. I vow, Mellefont is a pretty Gentleman; but methinks he wants a Manner.

Cynth. A Manner! What is that, Madam?

Lady Froth. Some diftinguishing Quality, as for Example, the bel Air or brillant of Mr. Brifk; the Solemnity, yet Complaifance, of my Lord; or fomething of his own that fhould took a little Je-ne-feay-quoyfh; he is too much a Mediocrity, in my Mind.

Cynth. He does not indeed affect either Pertness or Formality; for which I like him. Here he comes. Lady Froth. And my Lord with him: Pray obferve the Difference.

SCEN E II.

[To them] Lord FROTH, MELLEFONT,
and BRISK.

Cyntb. Impertinent Creature! I could almost be angry with her now. [Afide. Lady Froth. My Lord, I have been telling Cynthia, how much I have been in Love with you; 1 fwear I have; I'm

not

not a hamed to own it now. Ah! it makes my Heart leap, I vow, I figh when I think on it: My dear Lord ha, ha! do you remember, my Lord?

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

Lord Froth. Pleafant Creature! perfectly well: ab!" that Look, ay, there it is; who could refift! 'twas fo my Heart was made a Captive first, and ever fince it. has been in Love with happy Slavery.

Lady Froth. O that Tongue, that dear deceitful Tongue! that charming Softnefs in your Mien and your Expreffion! 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-glafs. 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. Lord Froth. I faw myself there, and kiffed it for your Sake.

Lady Froth. Ah! Gallantry to the laft Degree!Mr. Brifk, you're a Judge; was ever any Thing fo well bred as my Lord?

Brifk. Never any Thing-but your Ladyship, let me perifh.

Lady Froth. O, prettily turned again! Let me die but you have a great deal of Wit. Mr. Mellefont, don't you think Mr. Brifk has a World of Wit?

Mell. O, yes, Madam..

Brifk. O dear! Madam

Lady Froth. An infinite deal!.

Brifk. O Heavens! Madam

Lady Froth. More Wit than any body.

Brik. I am everlaftingly your humble Servant, deuce take me! Madam.

Lord Froth. Don't you think us a happy Couple? Gynth. I vow, my Lord, I think you the happiest Couple in the World; for you are not only happy in

one

one another, and when you are together, but happy in yourselves, and by yourfelves.

Lord Froth. I hope, Mellefont will make a good Hufband too.

Cynth. 'Tis my Interest to believe he will, my Lord. Lord Froth. Do you think he will love you as well as I do my Wife? I'm afraid not.

Cynth. I believe he will love me better.

Lord Froth. Heavens! that can never be; but why do you think fo?

Cynth. Becaufe he has not fo much Reafon to be fond of himself.

Lord Froth. O your humble Servant for that, dear Midam! Well, Mellefont, you will be a happy Crea

ture.

Mellefont. Ay, my Lord, I fhall have the fame Reafon for my Happine's that your Lordship has-I shall think my felf happy.

Lord Froth. Ah, that's all.

Brifk. [to Lady Froth.] Your Ladyfhip is in the right but egad, I'm wholly turned into Satire. I confe's I write but feldom, but when I do-keen lambics, egad! But my Lord was telling me, your Ladyship has made an Eflay toward an Heroic Poem.

Lady Froth. Did my Lord tell you? Yes, I vow, and the Subject is my Lord's Love to me. And what do you think I call it? I dare fwear you won't guess→→ The Syllabub-ha, ha, ha!

Brik. Because my Lord's Title's Froth, egad, ha, ha, ha! deuce take me, very a propos, and furprizing, ha, ha, ha!

Lady Froth. He! ay, is not it?-And then I call my Lord Spumojo; and myself, what do you think I call myfelf?

Prijk. Lactilla, may be-egad I cannot tell.

Lady Froth. Biddy, that's all; juft my own Name.

Brifk.