Fain. Fy, fy, friend, if you grow cenforious, I muft leave you ;-I'll look upon the gamefters in the

next room.

Mira. Who are they?

Fain. Petulant and Witwould-Bring me fome chocolate.

Mira. Betty, what fays your clock?

Bet. Turn'd of the laft canonical hour, fir.

[Exit.

Mira. How pertinently the jade anfwers me! ha! almost one o'clock! [Looking on his watch.] O, y'are

come

Enter Footman.

1

Well; is the grand affair over? You have been. fomething tedious.

Foot. Sir, there's fuch coupling at Pancras, that they stand behind one another, as 'twere in a country dance. Ours was the last couple to lead up; and no hopes appearing of difpatch, befides, the parion grow ing hoarfe, we were afraid his lungs would have fail'd before it came to our turn; fo we drove round to Duke's Place; and there they were rivetted in a trice. Mira.. So, fo, you are fure they are married. Foot. Inconteftably, fir: I am witness.

Mira. Have you the certificate ?

Foot. Here it is, fir.

Mira. Has the taylor brought Waitwell's clothes home, and the new liveries?

Foot. Yes, fir.

Mira. That's well. Do you go home again, d'ye hear, and adjourn the confummation till farther · order;' bid Waitwell flake his ears, and dame Partlet ruffle up her feathers, and meet me at one o'clock by Rofamond's pond; that I may fee her before fhe returns to her lady: and as you tender your ears be fecret. [Exit Footman.

Enter Fainall.

Fain. Joy of your fuccefs, Mirabell; you look pleased.

Mira. Ay; I have been engaged in a matter of fome fort of mirth, which is not yet ripe for discovery. I am glad this is not a cabal-night. I wonder, Fainall,

that

that you who are married, and of confequence fhould be difcreet, will fuffer your wife to be of fuch a party.

Fain. Faith, I am not jealous. Befides, moft who are engaged, are women and relations; and for the men, they are of a kind too contemptible to give fcandal.

Mira. I am of another opinion. The greater the coxcomb, always the more the scandal: for a woman who is not a fool, can have but one reafon for affociating with a man who is one.

Fain. Are you jealous as often as you fee Witwould entertain'd by Millamant ?

Mira. Of her understanding I am, if not of her perfon.

Fain. You do her wrong; for, to give her her due, fhe has wit.

Mira. She has beauty enough to make any man think fo; and complaifance enough not to contradict him who fhall tell her fo.

Fain. For a paffionate lover, methinks you are a man fomewhat too difcerning in the failings of your miftrefs..

Mira. And for a difcerning man, fomewhat too paffionate a lover; for i like her with all her faults; nay like her for her faults. Her follies are fo natural, or fo artful, that they become her; and thofe afectations which in another woman would be odious, ferve but to make her more agreeable. I'll tell thee, Fainall, the once ufed me with that infolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces; fitted her, and feparated her failings; I ftudied 'em and got 'em by rote. The catalogue was fo large, that I was not without hopes, one day or other, to hate her heartily: to which end I fo ufed myself to think of 'em, that at length, contrary to my defign and expectation, they gave me every hour lefs difturbance; till in a few days it became hibitual to me, to remember 'em without being, ditpleafed. They are now grown as familiar to me as my own frailties; and in all probability in a little time longer I fhall like 'em as well.

Fain, Marry her, marry her; be half as well acquainted

A 5

quainted with her charms, as you are with her defects, and my life on't you are your own man again.

Mira. Say you fo?

Fain. I, I, I, have experience: I have a wife, and fo forth.

1

Enter Meffenger.

Me. Is one 'Squire Witwould here?

Bet. Yes; what's your business?

Me. I have a letter for him, from his brother Sit Wilful, which I am charged to deliver into his own hands.

Bet. He's in the next room, friend

That way.

[Exit Meflenger. Mira. What is the chief of that noble family in town, Sir Wilful Witwould?

Fain. He is expected to day. Do you know him?

Mira. I have feen him, he promifes to be an extraordinary person; I think you have the honour to be related to him.

Fain. Yes; he is half-brother to this Witwould by a former wife, who was fifter to my Lady Wifhfort, my wife's mother. If you marry Millamant, you muit call coufins too.

Mira. I would rather be his relation than his acquaintance.

Fain. He comes to town in order to equip himself for travel.

Mira. For travel! Why the man that I mean is above forty.

Fain. No matter for that; 'tis for the honour of England, that all Europe fhould know we have blockheads of all ages.

Mira. I wonder there is not an act of parliament to fave the credit of the nation, and prohibit the expor tation of fools.

Fain. By no means, 'tis better as 'tis; 'tis better to trade with a little lefs, than to be quite eaten up with being overstock'd.

Mira. Pray are the follies of this knight-errant, and thofe of the 'fquire his brother, any thing related? Fain. Not at all; Witwould grows by the knight,

like a medlar grafted on a crab. One will melt in your mouth, and t'other fet your teeth on edge; one is all pulp, and the other all core.

Mira. So one will be rotten before he be ripe, and the other will be rotten without ever being ripe at all. Fain. Sir Wilful is an odd mixture of bashfulness and obftinacy. But when he's drunk, he's as loving as the monster in the Tempeft; and much after the fame manner. To give t'other his due, he has fomething of good-nature, and does not always want wit.

Mira. Not always; but as often as his memory fails him, and his common-place of comparifons. He is a fool with a good memory, and fome few fcraps of other folks wit. He is one whofe conversation can never be approved, yet it is now and then to be endured. He has indeed one good quality, he is not exceptious; for he fo paffionately affects the reputation of understanding raillery, that he will conftrue an affront into a jeft; and call downright rudenefs and ill language, fatire and fire.

Fain. If you have a mind to finish his picture, you have an opportunity to do it at full length. Behold the original.

Enter Witwould.

Wit. Afford me your compaffion, my dears; pity me, Fainall; Mirabell, pity me.

Mira. I do from my foul.

Fain. Why, what's the matter?

Wit. No letters for me, Betty?

Bet. Did not a meffenger bring you one but now, fir ?

Wit. Ay, but no other?

Bet. No, fir.

-a meffen

Wit. That's hard, that's very hard;ger, a mule, a beaft of burden; he has brought me a letter from the fool my brother, as heavy as a panegyrick in a funeral fermon, or a copy of commendatory verfes from one poet to another. And what's worse, 'tis as fure a forerunner of the author, as an epiftle dedicatory.

Mira. A fool, and your brother, Witwould!
A 6

Wit.

Wit. Ay, ay, my half brother. My half brother he is, no nearer upon honour.

Mira. Then 'tis poffible he may be but half a fool. Wit. Good, good, Mirabell, le Drole! Good, good; hang him, don't let's talk of him:-Fainall, how does your lady? gad, I fay any thing in the world to get this fellow out of my head. I beg pardon that I fhould ask a man of pleasure, and the town, a question at once fo foreign and domeftic. But I talk like an old maid at a marriage; I don't know what I fay: but he's the best woman in the world.

Fain. 'Tis well you don't know what you fay, or elfe your commendation would go near to make me either vain or jealous.

Wit. No man in town lives well with a wife but Fainall. Your judgment, Mirabell?

Mira. You had better step and afk his wife, if you would be credibly informed.

Wit. Mirabell.

Mira. Ay.

Wit. My dear, I afk ten thoufand pardons ;gad, I have forgot what I was going to fay to you. Mira. I thank you heartily, heartily.

Wit. No, but prythee excufe mei

is fuch a memory.

e-my memory

Mira. Have a care of fuch apologies, Witwould;--for I never knew a fool but he affected to complain, either of the spleen or his memory.

Fain. What have you done with Petulant?

Wit. He's reckoning his money,-my money it was -I have had no luck to day.

Fain. You may allow him to win of you at play ;for you are fure to be too hard for him at repartee: Since you monopolize the wit that is between you, the fortune must be his of course.

Mira. I don't find that Petulant confeffes the fuperiority of wit to be your talent, Witwould.

Wit. Come, come, you are malicious now, and would breed debates- -Petulant's my friend, and a very pretty fellow, and a very honeft fellow, and has a fmattering faith and troth a pretty deal of an odd fort of a small wit; nay, I do him juftice, I'm his

friend,