difficulties, from which Mirabell only must release her, by his making his conditions to have my cousin, and her fortune, left to her own disposal. Foi. O, dear madam, I beg your pardon! It was not my confidence in your ladyship, that was deficient; but, I thought the former good correspondence between your ladyship and Mr Mirabell might have hindered his communicating this secret. Mrs Fain. Dear Foible, forget that. cess. Lady Wish. O dear Marwood, what shall I say for this rude forgetfulness? But my dear friend is all goodness. Mrs Mar. No apologies, dear madam. I have been very well entertained. Lady Wish. As I'm a person, I am in a very chaos to think I should so forget myself—But I have such an olio of affairs, really I know not what to do-[Calls.]-Foible!--I expect my nephew, sir Wilfull, every moment, too-Why, Foible-He means to travel for improvement. Foi. O, dear madam, Mr Mirabell is such a sweet winning gentleman-But your ladyship is the pattern of generosity-Sweet lady, to be so good! Mr Mirabell cannot chuse but be grateful. I find your ladyship has his heart still. Now, madam, I can safely tell your ladyship our sucMrs Marwood has told my lady; but, I warrant, I managed myself. I turned it all for the better. I told my lady that Mr Mirabell railed at her. I laid horrid things to his charge, I'll vow; and my lady is so incensed, that she'll be contracted to sir Rowland to-night, she says; Lady Wish. O, he's in less danger of being -I warrant I worked her up, that he may have spoiled by his travels-I am against my nephew's her for asking for, as they say of a Welch mai-marrying too young. It will be time enough, denhead. Mrs Fain. O rare Foible! Foi. Madam, I beg your ladyship to acquaint Mr Mirabell of his success. I would be seen as little as possible to speak to him; besides, I believe madam Marwood watches me-She has a penchant; but, I know Mr Mirabell can't abide her.-[Calls.]-John-remove my lady's toilet. Madam, your servant. My lady is so impatient, I fear she'll come for if I Mrs Fain. I'll go with you up the back-stairs, lest I should meet her. [Exeunt. me, stay. Enter MRS MARWOOD, from the closet. Mrs Mar. Indeed, Mrs Engine, is it thus with you? Are you become a go-between of this importance? Yes, I shall watch you. Why, this wench is the pass-partout, a very master-key to every body's strong-box. My friend Fainall, have you carried it so swimmingly? I thought there was something in it; but it seems it is over with you. Your loathing is not from a want of appetite, then, but from a surfeit; else you could never be so cool to fall from a principal to be an assistant: to procure for him! a pattern of generosity, that I confess. Well, Mr Fainall, you have met with your match. O man, man! woman, woman! The devil's an ass! if I were a painter, I would draw him like an idiot, a driveller, with a bib and bells. Man should have his head and horns, and woman the rest of him. Poor simple fiend! Madam Marwood has a penchant, but he can't abide her-Twere better for him you had not been his confessor in that affair, without you could have kept his counsel closer. I shall not prove another pattern of ge | Mrs Mar. Methinks sir Wilfull should rather think of marrying, than travelling at his years. I hear he is turned of forty. when he comes back, and has acquired discretion to chuse for himself. Mrs Mar. Methinks Mrs Millamant and he would make a very fit match. He may travel afterwards. Tis a thing very usual with young gentlemen. Lady Wish. I promise you I have thought on't And, since 'tis your judgment, I'll think on't again. I assure you I will; I value your judgement extremely. On my word I'll propose it. [Enter FOIBLE.] Come, come, Foible-I had forgot my nephew will be here before dinner-I must make haste. Foi. Mr Witwould and Mr Petulant are come to dine with your ladyship. Lady Wish. O dear, I can't appear, till I am dressed. Dear Marwood, shall I be free with you again, and beg you to entertain them? I'll make all imaginable baste. Dear friend, excuse me. [Exeunt LADY WISHFORT and FOIBLE. Enter MRS MILLAMANT and MINCING. Mill. Sure, never any thing was so unbred as that odious man. Marwood, your servant. Mrs Mar. You have a colour; what's the matter? Mill. That horrid fellow, Petulant, has provoked me into a flame-I have broke my fanMincing, lend me yours-is not all the powder out of my hair? Mrs Mar. No. What has he done? Mill. Nay, he has done nothing; he has only talked-Nay, he has said nothing, neither; but he has contradicted every thing, that has been said. For my part, I thought Witwould and he would have quarrelled. Min. I vow, mem, I thought once they would have fit. Mill. Well, 'tis a lamentable thing, I swear, that one has not the liberty of chusing one's acquaintance, as one does one's clothes. Mrs Mar. If we had that liberty, we should be as weary of one set of acquaintance, though never so good, as we are of one suit, though never so fine. A fool and a Doily stuff would now and then find days of grace, and be worn for variety. Mill. I could consent to wear them, if they would wear alike; but fools never wear outThey are such drap-de-berry things! without one could give them to one's chambermaid, after a day or two. Mrs Mar. Twere better so, indeed. Or what think you of the play-house? A fine gay glossy fool should be given there, like a new masking habit after the masquerade is over, and we have done with the disguise. For a fool's visit is always a disguise; and never admitted by a woman of wit, but to blind her affair with a lover of sense. If you would but appear bare-faced now, and own Mirabell, you might as easily put off Petulant and Witwould, as your hood and scarf. And indeed 'tis time, for the town has found it: the secret is grown too big for the pretence. Indeed, Millamant, you can no more conceal it, than my lady Strammel can her face, that goodly face, which, in defiance of her Rhenish-wine tea, will not be comprehended in a mask. Mill. I'll take my death, Marwood, you are more censorious than a decayed beauty, or a discarded toast. Mincing, tell the men they may come up. My aunt is not dressing here; their folly is less provoking than your malice. [Exit MINCING.] The town has found it! what has it found? That Mirabell loves me, is no more a secret, than it is a secret, that you discovered it to my aunt, or than the reason why you discovered it is a secret. Mrs Mar. You are nettled. Mill. You're mistaken. Ridiculous! Mrs Mar. Indeed, my dear, you'll tear another fan, if you don't mitigate those violent airs. | Mill, Ha? Dear creature, I ask your pardonI swear I did not mind you. Mrs Mar. Mr Mirabell, and you both, may think a thing impossible, when I tell him, by telling you Mill. O dear! what? for 'tis the same thing, if I hear it-Ha, ha, hạ! Mrs Mar. That I detest him, hate him, madam. Mill. O madam! why, so do I-And yet the creature loves me; ha, ha, ha! How can one forbear laughing to think of it?-I am a sybil, if I am not amazed to think what he can see in me. I'll take my death, I think you are handsomer-and within a year or two as young-If you could but stay for me, I should overtake you--But that cannot be-Well, that thought makes me melancholic--Now I'll be sad. Mrs Mar. Your merry note may be changed sooner than you think. Mill. Do ye say so? Then, I'm resolved I'll have a song to keep up my spirits. Enter MINCING. Min. The gentlemen stay but to comb, madam; and will wait on you. Enter PETULANT and WITWOULD. Mill. Is your animosity composed, gentlemen? Wit. Raillery, raillery, madam; we have no animosity--We hit off a little wit now and then, but no animosity-The falling-out of wits is like the falling-out of lovers-We agree in the main, like treble and base. Ha, Petulant! Pet. Ay, in the main-But when I have a humour to contradict- Wit. Ay, when he has a humour fo contradict, then I contradict, too. What, I know my cue. Then we contradict one another like two battledores; for contradictions beget one another, like Jews. Pet. If he says black's black--If I have a humour to say 'tis blue-Let that pass-All's one for that. If I have a humour to prove it, it must be granted. Wit. Not positively must-But it may--it may. tive. Mill. Oh silly! Ha, ha, ha! I could laugh immoderately. Poor Mirabell! His constancy to Pet. Yes, it positively must, upon proof posime has quite destroyed his complaisance for all the world beside. I swear, I never enjoined it Wit. Ay, upon proof positive it must; but uphim, to be so coy-If I had the vanity to think on proof presumptive it only may. That's a lohe would obey me, I would command him togical distinction, now, madam. shew more gallantry. 'Tis hardly well-bred to be so particular on one hand, and so insensible on the other. But I despair to prevail, and so let him follow his own way. Ha, ha, ha! Pardon me, dear creature, 1 must laugh, ha, ha, ha! though, I grant you, 'tis a little barbarous, ha, ha, ha! Mrs Mar. What pity 'tis, so much fine raillery, and delivered with so significant gesture, should be so unhappily directed to miscarry! VOL. II. Mrs Mar. I perceive your debates are of importance, and very learnedly handled. Pet. Importance is one thing, and learning is another; but a debate's a debate, that I assert. Wit. Petulant's an enemy to learning; he relies altogether on his parts. Pet. No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me. Mrs Mar. That's a sign indeed 'tis no enemy to you. 2 L Pet. No, no, 'tis no enemy to any body, but them that have it. Mill. Well, an illiterate man's my aversion. I wonder at the impudence of an illiterate man, to offer to make love. Wit. That, I confess, I wonder at, too. Mill. Ah! to marry an ignorant! that can hardly read or write. Pet. Why should a man be any further from being married though he can't read, than he is from being hanged? The ordinary's paid for setting the psalm, and the parish priest for reading the ceremony. And for the rest which is to follow in both cases, a man may do it without book--So all's one for that. Mill. D'ye hear the creature? Lord, here's company! I'll be gone." [Exeunt MILLAMANT and MINCING. Enter SIR WILFULL WITWOULD, in a riding dress, and Footman. Wit. In the name of Bartholomew and his fair, what have we here? Mrs Mar. 'Tis your brother, I fancy. Don't you know him? Wit. Not I-Yes, I think it is he-I've almost forgot him; I have not seen him since the revolution. Foot. Sir, my lady's dressing. Here's company; if you please to walk in, in the 'mean time. Sir Wil. Dressing! What, 'tis but morning here, I warrant, with you in London; we should count it towards afternoon in our parts, down in Shropshire-Why, then, belike my aunt han't dined yet---Ha, friend? Foot, Your aunt, sir? Sir Wil. My aunt, sir! yes, my aunt, sir, and your lady, sir; your lady is my aunt, sir--Why, what, dost thou not know me, friend? Why, then, send somebody hither, that does. How long hast thou lived with thy lady, fellow, ha? Foot. A week, sir; longer than any in the house, except my lady's woman. Sir Wil. Why, then, belike thou dost not know thy lady, if thou seest her; ha, friend? Foot. Why, truly, sir, I cannot safely swear to her face in a morning, before she is dressed. 'Tis like I may give a shrewd guess at her by this time. Sir Wil. Well, prithee, try what thou canst do; if thou canst not guess, inquire her out;dost hear, fellow? and tell her, her nephew, Sir Wilful Witwould, is in the house. Foot. I shall, sir. Sir Wil. Hold ye-hear me, friend; a word with you in your ear: Prithee, who are these gallants? Foot. Really, sir, I cannot tell; there come so many here, 'tis hard to know them all. [Exit. Sir Wil. Oons, this fellow knows less than a starling; I don't think a' knows his own name. Mrs Mar. No sure, sir. [Salutes MARWOOD. Wit. This is a vile dog, I see that already.No offence! Ha, ha, ha! to him; to him, Petulant; smoke him. Pet. It seems as if you had come a journey, sir; hem, hem. [Surveying him round. Sir Wil. Very likely, sir, that it may seem so. Pet. No offence, I hope, sir, Sir Wil. May be not, sir; thereafter as 'tis meant, sir. Wit. Smoke the boots, the boots; Petulant, the boots; ha, ha, ha! Pet. Sir, I presume upon the information of your boots. Sir Wil. Why, 'tis like you may, sir: if you are not satisfied with the information of my boots, sir, if you will step to the stable, you may inquire further of my horse, sir. sir! Pet. Your horse, sir! your horse is an ass, Sir Wil. Do you speak by way of offence, sir? Mrs Mar. The gentleman's merry, that's all, sir-S'life, we shall have a quarrel betwixt a horse and an ass, before they find one another out. You must not take any thing amiss from your friends, sir. You are among your friends, here, though it may be you don't know it If I am not mistaken, you are sir Wilfull Witwould. Sir Wil. Right, lady; I am sir Wilfull Witwould; so I write myself; no offence to any body, I hope; and nephew to the lady Wishfort of this mansion. sir? Mrs Mar. Don't you know this gentleman, no Sir Wil. Hum! What, sure 'tis not-Yea, by'r lady but 'tis-'Sheart! I know not whether 'tis or -Yea, but 'tis, by the wrekin. Brother Anthony! what Tony, i'faith! what, dost thou not know me? By'r lady nor I thee, thou art so belaced, and so beperiwigged- -'Sheart! what dost not speak? art thou o'erjoyed? Wit. 'Odso, brother, is it you? your servant, brother. Sir Wil. Your servant! why yours, sir. Your servant again-'Sheart, and your friend and servant to that—And a-(puff) and a flap-dragon for your service, sir; and a hare's foot, and a hare's scut for your service, sir; an' you be so cold and so courtly! Wit. No offence, I hope, brother. Sir Wil. 'Sheart, sir, but there is, and much offence-A plague! is this your inns o'court breeding, not to know your friends and your relations, your elders, and your betters? Sir Wil. I can't tell that; 'tis like I may, and 'tis like I may not. I am somewhat dainty in making a resolution; because, when I make it, I keep it. I don't stand shill I, shall I, then; if I say't, I'll do't: but I have thoughts to tarry a small matter in town, to learn somewhat of your lingo first, before I cross the seas. I'd gladly have a spice of your French, as they say, whereby to hold discourse in foreign countries. Wit. Why, brother Wilfull of Salop, you may be as short as a Shrewsbury cake, if you please; but I tell you, 'tis not modish to know relations in town. You think you're in the country, where great lubberly brothers slabber and Mrs Mar. Here's an academy in town for that kiss one another, when they meet, like a call of and dancing, and curious acomplishments, calcuserjeants-'Tis not the fashion here; 'tis not, in-lated purely for the use of grown gentlemen. deed, dear brother. Sir Wil. The fashion's a fool: and you're a fop, dear brother. 'Sheart, I have suspected this-By'r lady, I conjectured you were a fop, since you began to change the style of your letters, and write in a scrap of paper gilt round the edges, no bigger than a subpoena. I might expect this, when you left off honoured brother; and hoping you are in good health- -To begin with a Rat me, knight, I'm so sick of a lust night's debauch-Ods heart, and then tell a familiar tale of a cock and a bull, and a wench and a bottle, and so conclude-You could write news before you were out of your time, when you lived with honest Pimple-Nose, the attorney of Furnival's inn-You could intreat to be remembered then to your friends round the wrekin. We could have gazettes, then, and Dawk's letter, and the Weekly Bill, till of late days. Pet. 'Slife, Witwould, were you ever an attorney's clerk? of the family of the Furnival's-Ha, ha, ha! Wit. Aye, aye, but that was but for a while. Not long, not long; pshaw, I was not in my own power, then. An orphan, and this fellow was my guardian; aye, aye, I was glad to consent to that, man, to come to London. He had the disposal of me, then. If I had not agreed to that, I might have been bound 'prentice to a felt-maker in Shrewsbury; this fellow would have bound me to a maker of felts. Sir Wil. 'Sheart, and better than be bound to a maker of fops, where, I suppose, you have served your time; and now you may set up for yourself. Mrs Mar. You intend to travel, sir, as I'm informed. Sir Wil. Belike I may, madam. I may chance to sail upon the salt seas, if my mind hold. Pet. And the wind serve. Sir Wil. Serve or not serve, I sha'nt ask licence of you, sir; nor the weather-cock your companion. Í direct my discourse to the lady, sir; 'tis like my aunt may have told you, madam-Yes, I have settled my concerns, I may say now, and am minded to see foreign parts. If an how that the peace hold, whereby, that is, taxes abate, Mrs Mar. I thought you had designed for France at all adventures. | Sir Wil. Is there? 'tis like there may. Mrs Mar. No doubt, you will return very much improved. Wit. Yes, refined like a Dutch skipper from the whale-fishing. Enter LADY WISHFORT and FAINALL. Lady Wish. Nephew, you are welcome. Sir Wil. Aunt, your servant. Fain. Sir Wilfull, your most faithful servant. Sir Wil. Cousin Fainall, give me your hand. Lady Wish. Cousin Witwould, your servant; Mr Petulant, your servant- -Nephew, you are welcome again. Will you drink any thing after your journey, nephew, before you eat? dinner's almost ready. Sir Wil. I'm very well, I thank you, aunt— However, I thank you for your courteous offer. 'Sheart, I was afraid you would have been in the fashion, too, and have remembered to have forgot your relations. Here's your cousin Tony; belike I may'nt call him brother for fear of offence, Lady Wish. O he's a rallier, nephew-My cousin's a wit: and your great wits always rally their best friends to chuse. When you have been abroad, nephew, you'll understand raillery better. [FAINALL and Mrs MARWOOD talk apart. Sir Wil. Why, then, let him hold his tongue in the mean time; and rail, when that day comes. Enter MINCING. Min. Mem, I am come to acquaint your la'ship that dinner is impatient. Sir Wil. Impatient? why, then, belike it won't stay, till I pull off my boots. Sweet-heart, can you help me to a pair of slippers? My man is with his horses, I warrant. Lady Wish. Fy, fy, nephew! you would not pull off your boots here-Go down into the hall. Dinner shall stay for you [Ereunt MINCING and SIR WILfull. My nephew's a little unbred; you'll pardon him, madam. Gentlemen, will you walk? Marwood? Mrs Mar. I follow you, madam, before sir Wilfull is ready. [Exeunt LADY WISHFORT, PETULANT, and WITWOULD. Fain. Why, then, Foible's a procuress; an arrant, rank, match-making procuress. And I, it seems, am a husband, a rank husband; and my by my wife-tis Scurvy wedlock. Mrs Mar. Then shake it off; you have often wished for an opportunity to part; and now you have it. But first prevent their plot; the half of Millamant's fortune is too considerable to be parted with to a foe, to Mirabell. Jealous of her I cannot be, for I am certain; so there's an end of jealousy. Weary of her, I am, and shall be-No, there's no end of that; no, no, that were too much to hope. Thus far concerning my repose. Now, for my reputation. As my own, I married not for it; so that's out of the question. And as to my part in my wife's why, she had parted with hers before; so, bringing none to me, she can take none from me; 'tis against all rule of play, that I should lose to one, who has not wherewithal to stake. Mrs Mar. Besides you forget, marriage is honourable. Fain. Hum! faith, and that's well thought on; marriage is honourable, as you say; and, if so, Fain. Aye, that had been mine, had you not wherefore should cuckoldom be a discredit, bemade that fond discovery; that had been forfei-ing derived from so honourable a root? ted, had they been married. My wife had added lustre to my dishonour by that increase of fortune. I could have worn them tipt with gold, though my forehead had been furnished like a deputy-lieutenant's hall. Mrs Mar. Nay, I know not; if the root be honourable, why not the branches? Fain. So, so, why this point is clear—Well, how do we proceed? Mrs Mur. I will contrive a letter, which shall be delivered to my lady at the time, when that rascal, who is to act sir Rowland, is with her. It shall come as from an unknown hand— for the less I appear to know of the truth, the better I can play the incendiary. Besides, I Mrs Mar. They may prove a cap of maintenance to you still, if you can away with your wife. And she's no worse than when you had her. You married her to keep you; and if you can contrive to have her keep you better than you expected, why should you not keep her long-would not have Foible provoked, if I could help er than you intended? Fain. The means, the means. Mrs Mar. Discover to my lady your wife's conduct; threaten to part with her; my lady loves her, and will come to any composition to save her reputation. Take the opportunity of breaking it, just upon the discovery of this imposture. My lady will be enraged beyond bounds, and sacrifice niece, and fortune, and all at that conjuncture. And let me alone to keep her warm; if she should flag in her part, I will not fail to prompt her. Fain. This has an appearance. Mrs Mar I'm sorry I hinted to my lady to endeavour a match between Millamant and sir Wilfull; that may be an obstacle. Fain. O, for that matter, leave me to manage him; I'll disable him for that; he will drink like a Dane after dinner, I'll set his hand in. Mrs Mar. Well, how do you stand affected towards your lady? Fain. Why, faith, I am thinking of it. Let me see-I am married already; so that's over. My wife has played the jade with me— e-Well, that's over too-I never loved her, or if I had, why that would have been over, too, by this time it, because you know she knows some passages: Nay, I expect all will come out; but let the mine be sprung first; and then I care not, if I am discovered. Fain. If the worst come to the worst, I'll turn my wife to grass-I have already a deed of settlement to the best part of her estate, which I wheedled out of her; and that shall par take at least. you Mrs Mar. I hope you are convinced, that I hate Mirabell now? you'll be no more jealous? Fain. Jealous! no-by this kiss-let husbands be jealous; but let the lover still believe: or, if he doubt, let it be only to endear his pleasure, and prepare the joy that follows, when he proves his mistress true. But let husbands' doubts convert to endless jealousy; or, if they have belief, let it corrupt to superstition, and blind credulity. I am single, and will herd no more with them. True, I wear the badge, but I'll disown the order. And, since I take my leave of them, I care not if I leave them a common motto to their common crest. All husbands must or pain or shame endure; [Exeunt, |