Chapter XI: Prologue: , (2)

_Man._ I think it ought to be, Cousin; for I believe, you will find it the most expensive one--your Election did not cost you a trifle, I suppose.

Sir _Fran._ Why ay! it's true! That--that did lick a little; but if a man's wise, (and I han't fawn'd yet that I'm a fool) there are ways, Cousin, to lick one's self whole again.

_Man._ Nay if you have that secret----

Sir _Fran._ Don't you be fearful, Cousin----you'll find that I know something.

_Man._ If it be any thing for your good, I should be glad to know it too.

Sir _Fran._ In short then, I have a friend in a corner, that has let me a little into what's what, at _Westminster_----that's one thing.

_Man._ Very well! but what good is that to do you?

Sir _Fran._ Why not me, as much as it does other folks?

_Man._ Other people, I doubt, have the advantage of different qualifications.

Sir _Fran._ Why ay! there's it naw! you'll say that I have lived all my days i'the country----what then----I'm o'the _Quorum_----I have been at Sessions, and I have made Speeches there! ay, and at Vestry too----and may hap they may find here,----that I have brought my tongue up to town with me! D'ye take me, naw?

_Man._ If I take your case right, Cousin; I am afraid the first occasion you will have for your eloquence here, will be, to shew that you have any right to make use of it at all.

Sir _Fran._ How d'ye mean?

_Man._ That Sir _John Worthland_ has lodg'd a Petition against you.

Sir _Fran._ Petition! why ay! there let it lie----we'll find a way to deal with that, I warrant you!----why, you forget, Cousin, Sir _John_'s o'the wrong side, Mon.

_Man._ I doubt Sir _Francis_, that will do you but little service; for in cases very notorious (which I take yours to be) there is such a thing as a short day, and dispatching them immediately.

Sir _Fran._ With all my heart! the sooner I send him home again the better.

_Man._ And this is the scheme you have laid down, to repair your fortune?

Sir _Fran._ In one word, Cousin, I think it my duty! the _Wrongheads_ have been a considerable Family, ever since _England_ was _England_; and since the World knows I have talents where withal, they shan't say it's my fault, if I don't make as good a figure as any that ever were at the head on't.

_Man._ Nay! this project, as you have laid it, will come up to any thing your Ancestors have done these five hundred years.

Sir _Fran._ And let me alone to work it! mayhap I hav'n't told you all, neither----

_Man._ You astonish me! what! and is it full as practicable as what you have told me!

Sir _Fran._ Ay! thof' I say it----every whit, Cousin? you'll find that I have more irons i'the fire than one! I doan't come of a fool's errand!

_Man._ Very well.

Sir _Fran._ In a word, my wife has got a friend at Court, as well as myself, and her daughter _Jenny_ is naw pretty well grown up----

_Man._ [_Aside._]--And what in the Devil's name would he do with the Dowdy?

Sir _Fran._ Naw, if I doan't lay in for a husband for her, mayhap i'this Tawn, she may be looking out for herself----

_Man._ Not unlikely.

Sir _Fran._ Therefore I have some thoughts of getting her to be Maid of Honour.

_Man._ [_Aside._]--Oh! he has taken my breath away! but I must hear him out----Pray, Sir _Francis_, do you think her education has yet qualified her for a Court?

Sir _Fran._ Why, the Girl is a little too mettlesome, it's true! but she has tongue enough: She woan't be dasht! Then she shall learn to daunce forthwith, and that will soon teach her how to stond still, you know.

_Man._ Very well; but when she is thus accomplish'd, you must still wait for a vacancy.

Sir _Fran._ Why I hope one has a good chance for that every day, Cousin! For if I take it right, that's a post, that folks are not more willing to get into, than they are to get out of--It's like an Orange-tree, upon that accawnt----it will bear blossoms, and fruit that's ready to drop, at the same time.

_Man._ Well, Sir, you best know how to make good your pretensions! But pray where is my Lady, and my young Cousins? I should be glad to see them too.

Sir _Fran._ She is but just taking a dish of tea with the Count, and my Landlady--I'll call her dawn.

_Man._ No, no, if she's engag'd, I shall call again.

Sir _Fran._ Ods-heart! but you mun see her naw, Cousin; what! the best Friend I have in the World!----Here! Sweet-heart! [_To a Servant without._] pr'ythee desire my Lady, and the Gentleman to come down a bit; tell her here's Cousin _Manly_ come to wait upon her.

_Man._ Pray, Sir, who may the Gentleman be?

Sir _Fran._ You mun know him to be sure; why it's Count _Basset_.

_Man._ Oh! is it he?--Your Family will be infinitely happy in his acquaintance.

Sir _Fran._ Troth! I think so too: He's the civilest Man that ever I knew in my life----why! here he would go out of his own lodging, at an hour's warning, purely to oblige my family. Wasn't that kind, naw?

_Man._ Extremely civil--the Family is in admirable hands already.

Sir _Fran._ Then my Lady likes him hugely--all the time of _York_ Races, she would never be without him.

_Man._ That was happy, indeed! and a prudent Man, you know, should always take care that his Wife may have innocent company.

Sir _Fran._ Why ay! that's it! and I think there could not be such another.

_Man._ Why truly, for her purpose, I think not.

Sir _Fran._ Only naw and tan, he--he stonds a leetle too much upon ceremony; that's his fault.

_Man._ O never fear! he'll mend that every day----Mercy on us! what a head he has!

Sir _Fran._ So! here they come!

_Enter Lady ~Wronghead~, Count ~Basset~, and Mrs. ~Motherly~._

Lady _Wrong._ Cousin _Manly_! this is infinitely obliging! I am extremely glad to see you.

_Man._ Your most obedient Servant, Madam; I am glad to see your Ladyship look so well, after your Journey.

Lady _Wrong._ Why really! coming to _London_ is apt to put a little more life in one's looks.

_Man._ Yet the way of living here, is very apt to deaden the complexion----and give me leave to tell you, as a friend, Madam, you are come to the worst place in the world, for a good woman to grow better in.

Lady _Wrong._ Lord, Cousin! how should people ever make any figure in life, that are always moap'd up in the country?

Count _Bas._ Your Ladyship certainly takes the thing in a quite right light, Madam: Mr. _Manly_, your humble Servant----a hem.

_Man._ Familiar Puppy. [_Aside._] Sir, your most obedient----I must be civil to the Rascal, to cover my suspicion of him.

[_Aside._

Count _Bas._ Was you at _White_'s this morning, Sir?

_Man._ Yes, Sir, I just call'd in.

Count _Bas._ Pray--what--was there any thing done there?

_Man._ Much as usual, Sir; the same daily carcases, and the same crows about them.

Count _Bas._ The _Demoivre_-Baronet had a bloody tumble yesterday.

_Man._ I hope, Sir, you had your share of him.

Count _Bas._ No, faith! I came in when it was all over----I think I just made a couple of Bets with him, took up a cool hundred, and so went to the _King's Arms_.

Lady _Wrong._ What a genteel, easy manner he has!

[_Aside._

_Man._ A very hopeful acquaintance I have made here.

[_Aside._

_Enter Squire ~Richard~, with a wet brown Paper on his
face._

Sir _Fran._ How naw, _Dick_! what's the matter with thy forehead, Lad?

Squ. _Rich._ I ha' gotten a knuck upon't.

Lady _Wrong._ And how did you come by it, you heedless creature?

Squ. _Rich._ Why, I was but running after sister, and t'other young woman, into a little room just naw: and so with that, they flapt the door full in my feace, and gave me such a whurr here--I thought they had beaten my brains out! so I gut a dab of wet brown paper here, to swage it a while.

Lady _Wrong._ They serv'd you right enough! will you never have done with your horse-play?

Sir _Fran._ Pooh! never heed it, Lad! it will be well by to-morrow--the Boy has a strong head!

_Man._ Yes, truly, his skull seems to be of a comfortable thickness.

[_Aside._

Sir _Fran._ Come, _Dick_, here's Cousin _Manly_----Sir, this is your God-son.

Lady _Wrong._ Oh! here's my daughter too.

_Enter Miss ~Jenny~._

Squ. _Rich._ Honour'd Gudfeyther! I crave leave to ask your blessing.

_Man._ Thou hast it, Child----and if it will do thee any good, may it be to make thee, at least, as wise a man as thy father.

Lady _Wrong._ Miss _Jenny_! don't you see your cousin, Child?

_Man._ And for thee, my pretty Dear--[_Salutes her._] may'st thou be, at least, as good a woman as thy mother.

_Jenny._ I wish I may ever be so handsome, Sir.

_Man._ Hah! Miss Pert! Now that's a thought, that seems to have been hatcht in the girl on this side _Highgate_.

[_Aside._

Sir _Fran._ Her tongue is a little nimble, Sir.

Lady _Wrong._ That's only from her country education, Sir _Francis_. You know she has been kept too long there----so I brought her to _London_, Sir, to learn a little more reserve and modesty.

_Man._ O, the best place in the world for it--every woman she meets will teach her something of it----There's the good gentlewoman of the house, looks like a knowing person; even she perhaps will be so good as to shew her a little _London_ behaviour.

_Moth._ Alas, Sir, Miss won't stand long in need of my instructions.

_Man._ That I dare say: What thou can'st teach her, she will soon be Mistress of.

[_Aside._

_Moth._ If she does, Sir, they shall always be at her service.

Lady _Wrong._ Very obliging indeed, Mrs. _Motherly_.

Sir _Fran._ Very kind and civil, truly----I think we are got into a mighty good hawse here.

_Man._ O yes, and very friendly company.

Count _Bas._ Humh! I'gad I don't like his looks----he seems a little smoky----I believe I had as good brush off----If I stay, I don't know but he may ask me some odd questions.

_Man._ Well, Sir, I believe you and I do but hinder the family----

Count _Bas._ It's very true, Sir--I was just thinking of going----He don't care to leave me, I see: But it's no matter, we have time enough. [_Aside._] And so Ladies, without ceremony, your humble Servant.

[_Exit Count ~Basset~, and drops a Letter._

Lady _Wrong._ Ha! what Paper's this? Some Billet-doux I'll lay my life, but this is no place to examine it.

[_Puts it in her Pocket._

Sir _Fran._ Why in such haste, Cousin?

_Man._ O! my Lady must have a great many affairs upon her hands, after such a journey.

Lady _Wrong._ I believe, Sir, I shall not have much less every day, while I stay in this town, of one sort or other.

_Man._ Why truly, Ladies seldom want employment here, Madam.

_Jenny._ And Mamma did not come to it to be idle, Sir.

_Man._ Nor you neither, I dare say, my young Mistress.

_Jenny._ I hope not, Sir.

_Man._ Ha! Miss Mettle!----Where are you going Sir?

Sir _Fran._ Only to see you to the door, Sir.

_Man._ Oh! Sir Francis, I love to come and go, without ceremony.

Sir _Fran._ Nay, Sir, I must do as you will have me--your humble Servant.

[_Exit ~Manly~._

_Jenny._ This Cousin _Manly_, Papa, seems to be but of an odd sort of a crusty humour----I don't like him half so well as the Count.

Sir _Fran._ Pooh! that's another thing, Child----Cousin is a little proud indeed! but however you must always be civil to him, for he has a deal of money; and no body knows who he may give it to.

Lady _Wrong._ Pshah; a fig for his money, you have so many projects of late about money, since you are a Parliament Man: What! we must make ourselves slaves to his impertinent humours, eight, or ten years perhaps, in hopes to be his heirs, and then he will be just old enough to marry his maid.

_Moth._ Nay, for that matter, Madam, the town says he is going to be married already.

Sir _Fran._ Who? Cousin _Manly_?

Lady _Wrong._ To whom, pray?

_Moth._ Why, is it possible your Ladyship should know nothing of it!----to my Lord _Townly_'s sister, Lady _Grace_.

Lady _Wrong._ Lady _Grace_?

_Moth._ Dear Madam, it has been in the New-Papers!

Lady _Wrong._ I don't like that neither.

Sir _Fran._ Naw, I do; for then it's likely it mayn't be true.

Lady _Wrong._ [_Aside._] If it is not too far gone; at least it may be worth one's while to throw a rub in his way.

Squ. _Rich._ Pray, Feyther, haw lung will it be to supper?

Sir _Fran._ Odso! that's true! step to the Cook, Lad, and ask what she can get us?

_Moth._ If you please, Sir, I'll order one of my maids to shew her where she may have any thing you have a mind to.

Sir _Fran._ Thank you kindly, Mrs. _Motherly_.

Squ. _Rich._ Ods-flesh! what, is not it i'the hawse yet----I shall be famisht----but howld! I'll go and ask _Doll_, an there's none o'the goose poy left.

Sir _Fran._ Do so, and do'st hear, _Dick_----see if there's e'er a bottle o'th' strong beer that came i'th' coach with us----if there be, clap a toast in it, and bring it up.

Squ. _Rich._ With a little nutmeg and sugar, shawn't I, Feyther?

Sir _Fran._ Ay! ay! as thee and I always drink it for breakfast--Go thy ways!----and I'll fill a pipe i'th' mean while. [_Takes one from a Pocket-Case, and fills it._]

[_Exit Squ. ~Rich~._

Lady _Wrong._ This Boy is always thinking of his belly!

Sir _Fran._ Why my Dear, you may allow him to be a little hungry after his journey.

Lady _Wrong._ Nay, ev'n breed him your own way--He has been cramming in or out of the coach all this day I am sure--I wish my poor Girl could eat a quarter as much.

_Jenny._ O for that I could eat a great deal more, Mamma; but then mayhap, I should grow coarse, like him, and spoil my shape.

Lady _Wrong._ Ay, so thou would'st, my Dear.

_Enter Squire ~Richard~ with a full Tankard._

Squ. _Rich._ Here, Feyther, I ha' browght it----it's well I went as I did; for our _Doll_ had just bak'd a toast, and was going to drink it herself.

Sir _Fran._ Why then, here's to thee, _Dick_!

[_Drinks._

Squ. _Rich._ Thonk yow, Feyther.

Lady _Wrong._ Lord! Sir _Francis_! I wonder you can encourage the Boy to swill so much of that lubberly liquor----it's enough to make him quite stupid.

Squ. _Rich._ Why it never hurts me, Mother; and I sleep like a hawnd after it.

[_Drinks._

Sir _Fran._ I am sure I ha' drunk it these thirty years, and by your leave, Madam, I don't know that I want wit: Ha! ha!

_Jenny._ But you might have had a great deal more, Papa, if you would have been govern'd by my Mother.

Sir _Fran._ Daughter! he that is governed by his Wife, has no wit at all.

_Jenny._ Then I hope I shall marry a fool, Sir; for I love to govern dearly.

Sir _Fran._ You are too pert, child; it don't do well in a young woman.

Lady _Wrong._ Pray, Sir _Francis_, don't snub her; she has a fine growing spirit, and if you check her so, you will make her as dull as her brother there.

Squ. _Rich._ [_After a long draught._] Indeed, Mother, I think my sister is too forward!

_Jenny._ You! you think I'm too forward! sure! Brother Mud! your head's too heavy to think of any thing but your Belly.

Lady _Wrong._ Well said, Miss; he's none of your Master, tho' he is your elder Brother.

Squ. _Rich._ No, nor she shawn't be my Mistress, while she's younger sister!

Sir _Fran._ Well said _Dick_! Shew 'em that stawt liquor makes a stawt heart, Lad!

Squ. _Rich._ So I wull! and I'll drink ageen, for all her!

[_Drinks._

_Enter ~John Moody~._

Sir _Fran._ So _John_! how are the horses!

_John Moody._ Troth, Sir, I ha' noa good opinion o' this tawn, it's made up o' mischief, I think!

Sir _Fran._ What's the matter naw?

_John Moody._ Why I'll tell your Worship----before we were gotten to th' street end, with the coach, here, a great lugger-headed cart, with wheels as thick as a brick wall, laid hawld on't, and has poo'd it aw to bits; crack! went the perch! Down goes the coach! and whang! says the glasses, all to shivers! Marcy upon us! and this be _London_! would we were aw weell in the country ageen!

_Jenny._ What have you to do, to wish us all in the country again, Mr. Lubber? I hope we shall not go into the country again these seven years, Mamma; let twenty coaches be pull'd to pieces.

Sir _Fran._ Hold your tongue, _Jenny_!----Was _Roger_ in no fault, in all this?

_John Moody._ Noa, Sir, nor I, noather----are not yow asheam'd, says _Roger_ to the carter, to do such an unkind thing by strangers? Noa, says he, you Bumkin. Sir, he did the thing on very purpose! and so the folks said that stood by--Very well, says _Roger_, yow shall see what our Meyster will say to ye! Your Meyster? says he; your Meyster may kiss my--and so he clapt his hand just there, and like your Worship. Flesh! I thought they had better breeding in this tawn.

Sir _Fran._ I'll teach this rascal some, I'll warrant him! Odsbud! if I take him in hand, I'll play the Devil with him.

Squ. _Rich._ Ay do, Feyther; have him before the Parliament.

Sir _Fran._ Odsbud! and so I will----I will make him know who I am! Where does he live?

_John Moody._ I believe, in _London_, Sir.

Sir _Fran._ What's the Rascal's name!

_John Moody._ I think I heard somebody call him _Dick_.

Squ. _Rich._ What, my name!

Sir _Fran._ Where did he go?

_John Moody._ Sir, he went home.

Sir _Fran._ Where's that?

_John Moody._ By my troth, Sir, I doan't know! I heard him say he would cross the same street again to-morrow; and if we had a mind to stand in his way, he wou'd pool us over and over again.

Sir _Fran._ Will he so! Odszooks! get me a Constable.

Lady _Wrong._ Pooh! get you a good supper. Come, Sir _Francis_, don't put yourself in a heat for what can't be helpt. Accidents will happen to people that travel abroad to see the world----For my part, I think it's a mercy it was not overturn'd before we were all out on't.

Sir _Fran._ Why ay, that's true again, my Dear.

Lady _Wrong._ Therefore see to-morrow if we can buy one at second-hand, for present use; so bespeak a new one, and then all's easy.

_John Moody._ Why troth, Sir, I doan't think this could have held you above a day longer.

Sir _Fran._ D'ye think so, _John_?

_John Moody._ Why you ha' had it, ever since your Worship were High Sheriff.

Sir _Fran._ Why then go and see what _Doll_ has got us for supper--and come and get off my boots.

[_Exit Sir ~Fran~._

Lady _Wrong._ In the mean time, Miss, do you step to _Handy_, and bid her get me some fresh night-clothes.

[_Exit Lady ~Wrong~._

_Jenny._ Yes, Mamma, and some for myself too.

[_Exit ~Jenny~._

Squ. _Rich._ Ods-flesh! and what mun I do all alone?

I'll e'en seek out where t'other pretty Miss is, And she and I'll go play at cards for kisses.

[_Exit._

+ACT+ III. +SCENE+ I.

+SCENE+, _the Lord_ Townly's _House_.

_Enter Lord ~Townly~, a Servant attending._

Lord _Town._ Who's there!

_Serv._ My Lord.

Lord _Town._ Bid them get dinner----Lady _Grace_, your Servant.

_Enter Lady ~Grace~._

Lady _Grace._ What, is the house up already? My Lady is not drest yet!

Lord _Town._ No matter--it's three o'clock--she may break my rest, but she shall not alter my hours.

Lady _Grace._ Nay, you need not fear that now, for she dines abroad.

Lord _Town._ That, I suppose, is only an excuse for her not being ready yet.

Lady _Grace._ No, upon my word, she is engaged to company.

Lord _Town._ Where, pray?

Lady _Grace._ At my Lady _Revel_'s; and you know they never dine 'till supper-time.

Lord _Town._ No truly----she is one of those orderly Ladies, who never let the sun shine upon any of their vices!----But pr'ythee, Sister, what humour is she in to-day?

Lady _Grace._ O! in tip-top spirits, I can assure you----she won a good deal, last night.

Lord _Town._ I know no difference between her winning or losing, while she continues her course of life.

Lady _Grace._ However she is better in good Humour, than bad.

Lord _Town._ Much alike: When she is in good humour, other people only are the better for it: When in a very ill humour, then, indeed, I seldom fail to have my share of her.

Lady _Grace._ Well, we won't talk of that now----Does any body dine here?

Lord _Town._ _Manly_ promis'd me--by the way, Madam, what do you think of his last conversation?

Lady _Grace._----I am a little at a stand about it.

Lord _Town._ How so?

Lady _Grace._ Why----I don't know how he can ever have any thoughts of me, that could lay down such severe rules upon wives, in my hearing.

Lord _Town._ Did you think his rules unreasonable?

Lady _Grace._ I can't say I did: But he might have had a little more complaisance before me, at least.

Lord _Town._ Complaisance is only a proof of good breeding: But his plainness was a certain proof of his honesty; nay, of his good opinion of you: For he would never have open'd himself so freely, but in confidence that your good sense could not be disobliged at it.

Lady _Grace._ My good opinion of him, Brother, has hitherto been guided by yours: But I have receiv'd a letter this morning that shews him a very different Man from what I thought him.

Lord _Town._ A letter from whom?

Lady _Grace._ That I don't know, but there it is.

[_Gives a Letter._

Lord _Town._ Pray let's see.

[_Reads._

_The Inclos'd, Madam, fell accidentally into my hands; if it no way
concerns you, you will only have the trouble of reading this,
from your sincere Friend and humble Servant, Unknown_, &c.

Lady _Grace._ And this was the inclos'd.

[_Giving another._

Lord _Town._ [_Reads._] _To ~Charles Manly~, Esq._

_Your manner of living with me of late, convinces me, that I now
grow as painful to you, as to myself: but however, though you can
love me no longer, I hope you will not let me live worse than I
did, before I left an honest Income, for the vain Hopes of being
ever Yours._

Myrtilla Dupe.

P. S. _'Tis above four Months since I receiv'd a Shilling from you._

Lady _Grace._ What think you now?

Lord _Town._ I am considering----

Lady _Grace._ You see it's directed to him----

Lord _Town._ That's true! but the Postscript seems to be a reproach, that I think he is not capable of deserving.

Lady _Grace._ But who could have concern enough, to send it to me?

Lord _Town._ I have observed that these sort of letters from unknown friends, generally come from secret enemies.

Lady _Grace._ What would you have me do in it?

Lord _Town._ What I think you ought to do----fairly shew it him, and say I advis'd you to it.

Lady _Grace._ Will not that have a very odd look, from me?

Lord _Town._ Not at all, if you use my name in it: if he is innocent, his impatience to appear so, will discover his regard to you: If he is guilty, it will be your best way of preventing his addresses.

Lady _Grace._ But what pretence have I to put him out of countenance?

Lord _Town._ I can't think there's any fear of that.

Lady _Grace._ Pray what is't you do think then?

Lord _Town._ Why certainly, that it's much more probable, this letter may be all an artifice, than that he is in the least concern'd in it----

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Mr. _Manly_, my Lord.

Lord _Town._ Do you receive him; while I step a minute in to my Lady.

[_Exit ~Lord Townly~._

_Enter ~Manly~._

_Man._ Madam, your most obedient; they told me, my Lord was here.

Lady _Grace._ He will be here presently: He is but just gone in to my sister.

_Man._ So! then my Lady dines with us.

Lady _Grace._ No; she is engag'd.

_Man._ I hope you are not of her party, Madam?

Lady _Grace._ Not till after dinner.

_Man._ And pray how may she have dispos'd of the rest of the day?

Lady _Grace._ Much as usual! she has visits 'till about eight; after that 'till court time, she is to be at Quadrille, at Mrs. _Idle_'s: After the Drawing-room, she takes a short supper with my Lady _Moonlight_. And from thence, they go together to my Lord _Noble_'s Assembly.

_Man._ And are you to do all this with her, Madam?

Lady _Grace._ Only a few of the visits; I would indeed have drawn her to the Play; but I doubt we have so much upon our hands, that it will not be practicable.

_Man._ But how can you forbear all the rest of it?

Lady _Grace._ There's no great merit in forbearing, what one is not charm'd with.

_Man._ And yet I have found that very difficult in my time.

Lady _Grace._ How do you mean?

_Man._ Why, I have pass'd a great deal of my life, in the hurry of the Ladies, though I was generally better pleas'd when I was at quiet without 'em.

Lady _Grace._ What induc'd you, then, to be with them?

_Man._ Idleness, and the Fashion.

Lady _Grace._ No Mistresses in the case?

_Man._ To speak honestly--Yes--being often in the toyshop, there was no forbearing the bawbles.

Lady _Grace._ And of course, I suppose sometimes you were tempted to pay for them, twice as much as they were worth.

_Man._ Why really, where fancy only makes the choice, Madam, no wonder if we are generally bubbled, in those sort of bargains, which I confess has been often my case: For I had constantly some Coquette, or other, upon my hands, whom I could love perhaps just enough to put it in her power to plague me.

Lady _Grace._ And that's a pow'r, I doubt, commonly made use of.

_Man._ The amours of a Coquette, Madam, seldom have any other view. I look upon Them, and Prudes, to be nusances, just alike; tho' they seem very different: The first are always plaguing the Men; and the other are always abusing the Women.

Lady _Grace._ And yet both of them do it for the same vain ends; to establish a false character of being virtuous.

_Man._ Of being chaste, they mean; for they know no other virtue: and, upon the credit of that, they traffick in every thing else that's vicious: They (even against Nature) keep their chastity, only because they find they have more power to do mischief with it, than they could possibly put in practice without it.

Lady _Grace._ Hold! Mr. _Manly_: I am afraid this severe opinion of the sex, is owing to the ill choice you have made of your Mistresses.

_Man._ In a great measure, it may be so: But, Madam, if both these characters are so odious; how vastly valuable is that woman, who has attain'd all they aim at without the aid of the Folly, or Vice of either?

Lady _Grace._ I believe those sort of women to be as scarce, Sir, as the men, that believe there are any such; or that allowing such have virtue enough to deserve them.

_Man._ That _could_ deserve them then----had been a more favourable reflexion!

Lady _Grace._ Nay, I speak only from my little experience: For (I'll be free with you, Mr. _Manly_) I don't know a man in the world, that, in appearance, might better pretend to a woman of the first merit, than yourself: And yet I have a reason in my hand, here, to think you have your failings.

_Man._ I have infinite, Madam; but I am sure, the want of an implicit respect for you, is not among the number----pray what is in your hand, Madam?

Lady _Grace._ Nay, Sir, I have no title to it; for the direction is to you.

[_Gives him a Letter._

_Man._ To me! I don't remember the hand--

[_Reads to himself._

Lady _Grace._ I can't perceive any change of guilt in him! and his surprise seems natural! [_Aside._]----Give me leave to tell you one thing by the way, Mr. _Manly_; That I should never have shewn you this, but that my Brother enjoin'd me to it.

_Man._ I take that to proceed from my Lord's good opinion of me, Madam.

Lady _Grace._ I hope, at least, it will stand as an excuse for my taking this liberty.

_Man._ I never yet saw you do any thing, Madam, that wanted an excuse; and, I hope, you will not give me an instance to the contrary, by refusing the favour I am going to ask you.

Lady _Grace._ I don't believe I shall refuse any, that you think proper to ask.

_Man._ Only this, Madam, to indulge me so far, as to let me know how this letter came into your hands.

Lady _Grace._ Inclos'd to me, in this without a name.

_Man._ If there be no secret in the contents, Madam----

Lady _Grace._ Why----there is an impertinent insinuation in it: But as I know your good sense will think it so too, I will venture to trust you.

_Man._ You oblige me, Madam.

[_He takes the other Letter and reads._

Lady _Grace._ [_Aside._] Now am I in the oddest situation! methinks our conversation grows terribly critical! This must produce something:----O lud! would it were over!

_Man._ Now, Madam, I begin to have some light into the poor project, that is at the bottom of all this.

Lady _Grace._ I have no notion of what could be proposed by it.

_Man._ A little patience, Madam----First, as to the insinuation you mention----

Lady _Grace._ O! what is he going to say now!

[_Aside._

_Man._ Tho' my intimacy with my Lord may have allow'd my visits to have been very frequent here of late; yet, in such a talking town as this, you must not wonder, if a great many of those visits are plac'd to your account: And this taken for granted, I suppose has been told to my Lady _Wronghead_, as a piece of news, since her arrival, not improbably without many more imaginary circumstances.

Lady _Grace._ My Lady _Wronghead_!

_Man._ Ay, Madam, for I am positive this is her hand!

Lady _Grace._ What view could she have in writing it?

_Man._ To interrupt any treaty of marriage, she may have heard I am engaged in: Because if I die without heirs, her Family expects that some part of my estate may return to them again. But, I hope, she is so far mistaken, that if this letter has given you the least uneasiness,----I shall think that the happiest moment of my life.

Lady _Grace._ That does not carry your usual complaisance, Mr. _Manly_.

_Man._ Yes, Madam, because I am sure I can convince you of my innocence.

Lady _Grace._ I am sure I have no right to inquire into it.

_Man._ Suppose you may not, Madam; yet you may very innocently have so much curiosity.

Lady _Grace._ With what an artful gentleness he steals into my opinion? [_Aside._] Well, Sir, I won't pretend to have so little of the Woman, in me, as to want curiosity----But pray, do you suppose then, this _Myrtilla_ is a real, or a fictitious name?

_Man._ Now I recollect, Madam, there is a young woman, in the house, where my Lady _Wronghead_ lodges, that I heard somebody call _Myrtilla_: This letter may be written by her----but how it came directed to me, I confess is a mystery; that before I ever presume to see your Ladyship again, I think myself oblig'd, in Honour to find out.

[_Going._

Lady _Grace._ Mr. _Manly_----you are not going?

_Man._ 'Tis but to the next street, Madam; I shall be back in ten minutes.

Lady _Grace._ Nay! but dinner's just coming up.

_Man._ Madam, I can neither eat, nor rest, till I see an end of this affair!

Lady _Grace._ But this is so odd! why should any silly curiosity of mine drive you away?

_Man._ Since you won't suffer it to be yours, Madam; then it shall be only to satisfy my own curiosity----

[_Exit ~Manly~._

Lady _Grace._ Well----and now, what am I to think of all this? Or suppose an indifferent person had heard every word we have said to one another, what would they have thought on't? Would it have been very absurd to conclude, he is seriously inclined to pass the rest of his life with me?----I hope not----for I am sure, the case is terribly clear on my side! and why may not I, without vanity, suppose my----unaccountable somewhat----has done as much execution upon him?----why----because he never told me so----nay, he has not so much as mentioned the word Love, or ever said one civil thing to my person----well----but he has said a thousand to my good opinion, and has certainly got it----had he spoke first to my person, he had paid a very ill compliment to my understanding----I should have thought him impertinent, and never have troubled my head about him; but as he has manag'd the matter, at least I am sure of one thing; that let his thoughts be what they will, I shall never trouble my head about any other man, as long as I live.

_Enter Mrs. ~Trusty~._

Well, Mrs. _Trusty_, is my sister dress'd yet?

_Trusty._ Yes, Madam, but my Lord has been courting her so, I think, 'till they are both out of humour.

Lady _Grace._ How so?

_Trusty._ Why, it begun, Madam, with his Lordship's desiring her Ladyship to dine at home to-day----upon which my Lady said she could not be ready; upon that, my Lord order'd them to stay the dinner, and then my Lady order'd the coach; then my Lord took her short, and said, he had order'd the coachman to set up: Then my Lady made him a great curt'sy, and said, she would wait 'till his Lordship's horses had din'd, and was mighty pleasant: But for fear of the worst, Madam, she whisper'd me----to get her chair ready.

[_Exit ~Trusty~._

Lady _Grace._ O! here they come; and, by their looks, seem a little unfit for company.

[_Exit Lady ~Grace~._

_Enter Lady ~Townly~, Lord ~Townly~ following._

Lady _Town._ Well! look you, my Lord; I can bear it no longer! nothing still but about my faults, my faults! an agreeable subject truly!

Lord _Town._ Why, Madam, if you won't hear of them; how can I ever hope to see you mend them?

Lady _Town._ Why, I don't intend to mend them----I can't mend them----you know I have try'd to do it an hundred times, and--it hurts me so--I can't bear it!

Lord _Town._ And I, Madam, can't bear this daily licentious abuse of your time and character.

Lady _Town._ Abuse! Astonishing! when the Universe knows, I am never better company, than when I am doing what I have a mind to! But to see this world! that Men can never get over that silly spirit of contradiction----why but last _Thursday_ now----there you wisely amended one of my faults as you call them----you insisted upon my not going to the Masquerade----and pray, what was the consequence! was not I as cross as the Devil, all the night after? was not I forc'd to get company at home! and was not it almost three o'clock in the morning, before I was able to come to myself again? and then the fault is not mended neither,----for next time, I shall only have twice the inclination to go: so that all this mending, and mending, you see, is but dearning an old ruffle, to make it worse than it was before.

Lord _Town._ Well, the manner of womens living, of late, is insupportable; and one way or other----

Lady _Town._ It's to be mended, I suppose! why so it may; but then, my dear Lord, you must give one time----and when things are at worst, you know, they may mend themselves! ha! ha!

Lord _Town._ Madam, I am not in a humour, now, to trifle.

Lady _Town._ Why then, my Lord, one word of fair argument--to talk with you, your own way now----You complain of my late hours, and I of your early ones----so far are we even, you'll allow----but pray which gives us the best figure in the eye of the polite world? my active, spirited three in the Morning, or your dull, drowsy eleven at Night? Now, I think, one has the air of a Woman of Quality, and t'other of a plodding Mechanic, that goes to bed betimes, that he may rise early, to open his shop!----Faugh!

Lord _Town._ Fy, fy, Madam! is this your way of reasoning? 'tis time to wake you then----'tis not your ill hours alone, that disturb me, but as often the ill company that occasion those ill Hours.

Lady _Town._ Sure I don't understand you now, my Lord; what ill company do I keep?

Lord _Town._ Why, at best, women that lose their money, and men that win it! Or, perhaps, men that are voluntary bubbles at one game, in hopes a Lady will give them fair play at another. Then that unavoidable mixture with known rakes, conceal'd thieves, and Sharpers in embroidery----or what, to me, is still more shocking, that herd of familiar chattering crop-ear'd Coxcombs, who are so often like Monkeys, there would be no knowing them asunder, but that their tails hang from their head, and the monkey's grows where it should do.

Lady _Town._ And a Husband must give eminent proof of his sense, that thinks their powder-puffs dangerous.

Lord _Town._ Their being fools, Madam, is not always the Husband's security: Or if it were, fortune, sometimes, gives them advantages might make a thinking woman tremble.

Lady _Town._ What do you mean!

Lord _Town._ That Women, sometimes, lose more than they are able to pay; and if a creditor be a little pressing, the Lady may be reduc'd to try if, instead of gold, the Gentleman will accept of a trinket.

Lady _Town._ My Lord you grow scurrilous; you'll make me hate you. I'll have you to know, I keep company with the politest people in town, and the Assemblies I frequent are full of such.

Lord _Town._ So are the Churches----now and then.

Lady _Town._ My friends frequent them too, at well as the Assemblies.

Lord _Town._ Yes, and would do it oftner, if a groom of the chambers there were allowed to furnish cards to the company.

Lady _Town._ I see what you drive at all this while; you would lay an imputation on my fame, to cover your own avarice! I might take any pleasures I find, that were not expensive.

Lord _Town._ Have a care, Madam; don't let me think you only value your chastity, to make me reproachable for not indulging you in every thing else, that's vicious----I, Madam, have a reputation too, to guard, that's dear to me, as yours----The follies of an ungovern'd wife may make the wisest man uneasy; but 'tis his own fault, if ever they make him contemptible.

Lady _Town._ My Lord----you would make a woman mad!

Lord _Town._ You'd make a man a fool.

Lady _Town._ If Heav'n has made you otherwise, that won't be in my power.

Lord _Town._ Whatever may be in your inclination, Madam; I'll prevent you making me a Beggar at least.

Lady _Town._ A Beggar! _Crœsus_! I'm out of Patience! I won't come home 'till four to-morrow morning.

Lord _Town._ That may be, Madam; but I'll order the doors to be lock'd at twelve.

Lady _Town._ Then I won't come home 'till to-morrow night.

Lord _Town._ Then, Madam;----You shall never come home again.

[_Exit Lord ~Town~._

Lady _Town._ What does he mean! I never heard such a word from him in my life before! the Man always us'd to have manners in his worst humours! there's something, that I don't see, at the bottom of all this----but his head's always upon some impracticable scheme or other, so I won't trouble mine any longer about him. Mr. _Manly_, your Servant.

_Enter ~Manly~._

_Man._ I ask pardon for my intrusion, Madam; but I hope my business with my Lord will excuse it.

Lady _Town._ I believe you'll find him in the next room, Sir.

_Man._ Will you give me leave, Madam?

Lady _Town._ Sir----you have my leave, tho' you were a lady.

_Man._ [_Aside._] What a well bred age do we live in?

[_Exit ~Manly~._

_Enter Lady ~Grace~._

Lady _Town._ O! my dear Lady _Grace_! how could you leave me so unmercifully alone all this while?

Lady _Grace._ I thought my Lord had been with you.

Lady _Town._ Why yes----and therefore I wanted your relief; for he has been in such a fluster here----

Lady _Grace._ Bless me! for what?

Lady _Town._ Only our usual breakfast; we have each of us had our dish of Matrimonial Comfort, this morning! we have been charming company!

Lady _Grace._ I am mighty glad of it! sure it must be a vast happiness, when a Man and a Wife can give themselves the same turn of conversation!

Lady _Town._ O! the prettiest thing in the world!

Lady _Grace._ Now I should be afraid, that where two people are every day together so, they must often be in want of something to talk upon.

Lady _Town._ O my Dear, you are the most mistaken in the world! married people have things to talk of, child, that never enter into the imagination of others.----Why, here's my Lord and I now, we have not been married above two short years, you know, and we have already eight or ten things constantly in bank, that whenever we want company, we can take up any one of them for two hours together, and the subject never the flatter; nay, if we have occasion for it, it will be as fresh next day too, as it was the first hour it entertain'd us.

Lady _Grace._ Certainly that must be vastly pretty.

Lady _Town._ O! there's no life like it! why t'other day for example, when you din'd abroad; my Lord and I, after a pretty chearful _tête à tête_ meal, sat us down by the fire-side, in an easy indolent, pick-tooth way, for about a quarter of an hour, as if we had not thought of any other's being in the room----at last, stretching himself, and yawning----My Dear, says he,----aw----you came home very late, last night----'Twas but just turn'd of Two, says I----I was in bed--aw----by eleven, says he; so you are every night, says I----Well, says he, I am amazed you can sit up so late----How can you be amaz'd, says I, at a thing that happens so often?----upon which we enter'd into a conversation----and tho' this is a point has entertain'd us above fifty times already, we always find so many pretty new things to say upon it, that I believe in my soul, it will last as long as we live.

Lady _Grace._ But pray! in such sort of family dialogues (tho' extremely well for passing the time) don't there, now and then, enter some little witty sort of bitterness?

Lady _Town._ O yes! which does not do amiss at all! A smart repartee, with a zest of recrimination at the head of it, makes the prettiest sherbet; Ay, ay! if we did not mix a little of the acid with it, a matrimonial Society would be so luscious, that nothing but an old liquorish prude would be able to bear it.

Lady _Grace._ Well,----certainly you have the most elegant taste----

Lady _Town._ Tho' to tell you the truth, my Dear, I rather think we squeez'd a little too much lemon into it, this bout; for it grew so sour at last, that--I think----I almost told him, he was a fool----and he again----talk'd something oddly of----turning me out of doors.

Lady _Grace._ O! have a care of that!

Lady _Town._ Nay, if he should, I may thank my own wise father for that----

Lady _Grace._ How so?

Lady _Town._ Why----when my good Lord first open'd his honourable trenches before me, my unaccountable Papa, in whose hands I then was, gave me up at discretion.

Lady _Grace._ How do you mean?

Lady _Town._ He said, the wives of this age were come to that pass, that he would not desire even his own Daughter should be trusted with pin-money; so that my whole train of separate inclinations are left entirely at the mercy of an husband's odd humours.

Lady _Grace._ Why, that, indeed, is enough to make a woman of spirit look about her!

Lady _Town._ Nay, but to be serious; my Dear; what would you really have a woman do in my case?

Lady _Grace._ Why----If I had a sober husband as you have, I would make myself the happiest wife in the world by being as sober as he.

Lady _Town._ O! you wicked thing! how can you teize one at this rate? when you know he is so very sober, that (except giving me money) there is not one thing in the world he can do to please me! And I at the same time, partly by nature, and partly, perhaps, by keeping the best company, do with my soul love almost every thing he hates! I dote upon assemblies! my heart bounds at a ball; and at an Opera----I expire! then I love play to distraction! Cards inchant me! and Dice--put me out of my little wits! Dear! dear Hazard! oh! what a flow of spirits it gives one! do you never play at hazard, child?

Lady _Grace._ Oh! never! I don't think it fits well upon women; there is something so masculine, so much the air of a rake in it! you see how it makes the men swear and curse! and when a woman is thrown into the same passion----why----

Lady _Town._ That's very true! one is a little put to it, sometimes, not to make use of the same words to express it.

Lady _Grace._ Well----and, upon ill luck, pray what words are you really forc'd to make use of?

Lady _Town._ Why upon a very hard case, indeed, when a sad wrong word is rising, just to one's tongue's end, I give a great gulp----and swallow it.

Lady _Grace._ Well----and is not that enough to make you forswear play, as long as you live?

Lady _Town._ O yes! I have forsworn it.

Lady _Grace._ Seriously?

Lady _Town._ Solemnly! a thousand times; but then one is constantly forsworn.

Lady _Grace._ And how can you answer that?

Lady _Town._ My dear, what we say, when we are losers, we look upon to be no more binding than a lover's oath, or a great man's promise. But I beg pardon, child; I should not lead you so far into the world; you are a prude, and design to live soberly.

Lady _Grace._ Why, I confess my nature, and my education do, in a good degree, incline me that way.

Lady _Town._ Well! how a woman of spirit, (for you don't want that, child) can dream of living soberly, is to me inconceivable! for you will marry I suppose.

Lady _Grace._ I can't tell but I may.

Lady _Town._ And won't you live in town?

Lady _Grace._ Half the year, I should like it very well.

Lady _Town._ My stars! and you would really live in London half the year to be sober in it!

Lady _Grace._ Why not?

Lady _Town._ Why can't you as well go, and be sober in the country?

Lady _Grace._ So I would----t'other half year.

Lady _Town._ And pray what comfortable scheme of life would you form now, for your summer and winter sober entertainments?

Lady _Grace._ A scheme, that I think might very well content us.

Lady _Town._ O! of all things let's hear it.

Lady _Grace._ Why, in summer, I cou'd pass my leisure hours in riding, in reading, walking by a canal, or sitting at the end of it under a great tree; in dressing, dining, chatting with an agreeable friend, perhaps hearing a little music, taking a dish of tea, or a game of cards soberly! managing my family, looking into its accounts, playing with my children (if I had any) or in a thousand other innocent amusements----soberly! and possibly, by these means, I might induce my husband to be as sober as myself----

Lady _Town._ Well, my dear, thou art an astonishing creature! for sure such primitive antediluvian notions of life, have not been in any head these thousand years----Under a great tree! O my soul!----But I beg we may have the sober town scheme too----for I am charmed with the country one!

Lady _Grace._ You shall, and I'll try to stick to my sobriety there too.

Lady _Town._ Well, tho' I'm sure it will give me the vapours, I must hear it however.

Lady _Grace._ Why then, for fear of your fainting, madam, I will first so far come into the fashion, that I would never be dressed out of it----but still it should be soberly. For I can't think it any disgrace to a woman of my private fortune, not to wear her lace as fine as a wedding-suit of a first Dutchess. Tho' there is one extravagance I would venture to come up to.

Lady _Town._ Ay, now for it----

Lady _Grace._ I would every day be as clean as a bride.

Lady _Town._ Why the men say, that's a great step to be made one----Well now you are drest----pray let's see to what purpose.

Lady _Grace._ I would visit--that is, my real friends; but as little for form as possible.----I would go to court; sometimes to an assembly, nay, play at _quadrille_----soberly; I would see all the good plays; and, (because 'tis the fashion) now and then an opera----but I would not expire there, for fear I should never go again: and lastly, I can't say, but for curiosity, if I lik'd my company, I might be drawn in once to a masquerade! And this, I think, is as far at any woman can go----soberly.

Lady _Town._ Well! if it had not been for that last piece of sobriety, I was just going to call for some surfeit water.

Lady _Grace._ Why, don't you think, with the farther aid of breakfasting, dining, taking the air, supping, sleeping, not to say a word of devotion, the four and twenty hours might roll over in a tolerable manner?

Lady _Town._ Tolerable? deplorable! Why, child, all you propose, is but to endure life, now I want to enjoy it----

_Enter Mrs. ~Trusty~._

_Trus._ Madam, your Ladyship's chair is ready.

Lady _Town._ Have the Footmen their white flambeaux yet? for last night I was poison'd.

_Trus._ Yes, madam: there were some come in this morning.

[_Exit ~Trusty~._

Lady _Town._ My dear, you will excuse me; but you know my time is so precious----

Lady _Grace._ That I beg I may not hinder your least enjoyment of it.

Lady _Town._ You will call on me at Lady _Revel_'s?

Lady _Grace._ Certainly.

Lady _Town._ But I am so afraid it will break into your scheme, my dear!

Lady _Grace._ When it does, I will----soberly break from you.

Lady _Town._ Why then 'till we meet again, dear sister, I wish you all tolerable happiness.

[_Exit Lady ~Town~._

Lady _Grace._ There she goes--dash! into her stream of pleasures! poor woman! she is really a fine creature! and sometimes infinitely agreeable! nay, take her out of the madness of this town, rational in her notions, and easy to live with: but she is so borne down by this torrent of vanity in vogue, she thinks every hour of her life is lost that she does not lead at the head of it. What it will end in, I tremble to imagine----Ha! my brother, and _Manly_ with him! I guess what they have been talking of----I shall hear it in my turn, I suppose, but it won't become me to be inquisitive.

[_Exit Lady ~Grace~._

_Enter Lord ~Townly~ and ~Manly~._

Lord _Town._ I did not think my Lady _Wronghead_ had such a notable brain: tho' I can't say she was so very wise, in trusting this silly girl you call _Myrtilla_, with the secret.

_Man._ No, my Lord, you mistake me, had the girl been in the secret, perhaps I had never come at it myself.

Lord _Town._ Why I thought you said the girl writ this letter, to you, and that my Lady _Wronghead_ sent it inclos'd to my sister?