Ter. Oh, my stars and garters! here's such a piece of work-What shall I do?-My poor dear Miss Harriet[Cries bitterly. Quid. What, is there any more news? What has happened now? Ter. Oh, madam, madam, forgive me, my dear madam- -I did not do it on purpose-I did not; as I hope for mercy, I did not! Quid. Is the woman crazy? Ter. I did not intend to give it him; I would Ehave seen him gibbeted first. I found the letter in your bed-chamber; I knew it was the same I delivered to you, and my curiosity did make me peep into it. Says my curiosity,Now, Termagant, you may gratify yourself by finding out the contents of that letter, which you have so violent an itching for.' My curiosity did say so; and then I own my respect for you did say to me, Hussy, how dare you meddle with what does not belong to you? Keep your distance, and let your mistress's secrets alone.' And then upon that, in comes my curiosity again. 'Read it, I tell you, Termagant; a woman of spirit should know every thing.' 'Let it alone, you jade,' says my respect, it is as much as your place is worth.' What signification's a place with an old bankrupper?' says my curiosity, there's more places than one; and so read it, I tell you, Termagant.' I did read it; what Could I do? Heaven help me! I did read it; I don't go to deny it; I don't, I don't, I don't! [Crying very bitterly. Quid. And I have read it, too; don't keep such an uproar, woman! Ter. And after I had read it, thinks me, 'I'll give this to my mistress again, and her geremanocus of a father shall never see it. And so, as my ill stars would have it, as I was giving him a newspaper, I run my hand into the lion's mouth. [Crying. Bel. What an unlucky jade she has been! [Aside. Har. Well, there's no harm done, Termagant; for I don't want to deceive my father. Quid. Yes, but there is harm done. [Knocking.] Hey, what's all this knocking? Step and see, Termagant. Ter. Yes, sir. [Exit. Quid. A waiter from the coffee-house, mayhap, with some news. You shall go to the roundhouse, friend. [To BELMOUR.] I'll carry you there inyself; and who knows but I may meet a parliament man in the round-house to tell me politics! Some Enter ROVEwell. shan't be murdered amongst you. Rove. But I say I will come in; my friend Bel. 'Sdeath, Rovewell! what brings you here? for you these two hours; and split me but I was Rove. I have been waiting in a hackney-coach afraid they had smothered you between two feather-beds! Enter TERMAGANT. Ter. More misfortunes! here comes the watch. Quid. The best news I ever heard! Enter Watchmen. Here, thieves! robbery! murder! I charge them both; take them directly. Watch. Stand and deliver in the king's name! seize them; knock them down! Bel. Don't frighten the lady; here's my sword; I surrender. Rove. You scoundrels! Stand off, rascals! Watch. Down with him! down with him! [Fight. Enter RAZOR, with the Gazette in his hand. Raz. What, a fray at my master Quidnunc's! knock him down! knock him down! [Folds up the Gazette, puts himself in a boxing attitude, and fights with the watchmen.] Quid. That's right; hold him fast! [Watchmen seize ROVEWELL. Rove. You have overpowered me, you rascals! Ter. I believe as sure as any thing, as how he's a highwayman, and as how it was he that robbed the mail. Quid. What! rob the mail, and stop all the news! Search him, search him! he may have the letters belonging to the mail in his pockets now: Ay, here's one letter, To Mr. Abraham Quidnunc. Let's see what it is Your dutiful son John Quidnunc.' Rove. That's my name, and Rovewell was but assumed. Quid. What, and am I your father? Raz. [Looks at him.] Oh, my dear sir! [Embraces him, and powders him all over.] 'tis he sure enough! I remember the mole on his cheek -I shaved his first beard. Quid. Just returned from the West Indies, I Ter. There, madam, calcine your person to him. Quid. What are the Spaniards doing in the Bay of Honduras? Raz. With all my heart; I'm rare happy! Come, Mr. Quidnunc, now with news ha' done, son; Rove. Truce with politics for the present, if you pic. e, sir. We'll think of our own affairs May discord cease, faction no more be seen : first, before we concern ourselves about the ba-Be high and low for country, king, and queen. lance of power. [Exeunt omnes. Miss Har. Never. Mrs. Har. Upon a little consideration. Mrs. Har. You don't know how that may be ; recollect, sister, that you are no chicken-you are not now of the age that becomes giddiness and folly. Miss Har. Age, madam― Mrs. Har. Do but hear me, sister; do but hear me: A person of your years Miss Har. My years, sister! Upon my wordMrs. Har. Nay, no offence, sister— Miss Har. But there is offence, madam: I don't understand what you mean by it—always thwarting me with my years-my years, indeed! when, perhaps, madam, if I was to die of old age some folks might have reason to look about them. Mrs. Har. She feels it, I see; Oh, I delight in mortifying her. [Aside.] Sister, if I did not love you, I am sure I should not talk to you in this manner. But how can you make so unkind a return now, as to alarm me about myself? In some sixteen or eighteen years after you, to be sure, I own I shall begin to think of making my will. How could you be so severe ? Miss Har. Some sixteen or eighteen years, madam! If you would own the truth, madamI believe, madam-you would find, madam, that the disparity, madam, is not so very great, madanı Mrs. Har. Well, I vow passion becomes you inordinately! It blends a few roses with the lillies of your cheek, and Miss Har. And though you are married to my brother, madam, I would have you to know, madam, that you are not thereby any way authori sed, madam, to take unbecoming liberties with your sister. I am independant of my brother, madam; my fortune is in my own hands, madam, and madam Mrs. Har. But to be waiting till it is almost too late in the day, and force one's self to say strange things--with the tongue and heart at variance all the time-' I don't mind the hideous men'-'I am very happy as I am'—and all that time, my dear dear sister, to be upon the tenterhooks of expectation Miss Har. I upon tenter-hooks! Mrs. Har. And to be at this work of sour grapes, till one is turned of three and forty- Miss Har. Three and forty, madam! I desire sister-I desire, madam-three and forty, madam. Miss Har. He is warm, passionate and tender. Mrs. Har, But you don't know how long that Mrs. Har. Nay, nay, nay; don't be angry-may last; and here are you going to break off a don't blame me; blame my husband; he is your very suitable match, which all your friends liked own brother, you know, and he knows your age. and approved, a match with Captain Cape, who He told me so. Miss Har. Oh, madam, I see your driftbut need not give yourself those airs, mayou damthe men don't see with your eyes, madam-years, indeed! Three and forty, truly! I'll assure you upon my word-hah! very fine! But I see plainly, madam, what you are at-Mr. Clerimont, madam! Mr. Clerimont, sister, that's what frets you a young husband, madam-Younger than your husband, madam-Mr. Clerimont, let me tell you, madam to be sure Miss Har. Don't name Captain Cape, I be seech you don't name him. -has a Mrs. Har. Captain Cape, let me tell you, i not to be despised; he has acquired by his voy ages to India, a very pretty fortunecharming box of a house upon Hackney Marsh and is of an age every way suitable to you. for ever! Years, years, my years! But I tell you Miss Har. There again, now! age, age, age once for all, Mr. Clerimont does not see with your eyes; I am determined to hear no more o Captain Cape; odious Hackney Marsh! ah, sis ter! you would be glad to see me married in a middling way Mr. Har. No, not I; I wish she may be married to one or the other of them-for her temper is really grown so very sour, and there is such eternal wrangling between ye both, that I wish to see her in her own house, for the peace and quiet of mine. Mrs. Har. I, sister! I am sure nobody will rejoice more at your preferment-I am resolved never to visit her, if Mr. Clerimont marries her: [Aside. Miss Har. Well, well; I tell you, Mr. Cle- Mrs. Har. Do you know this Mr. Clerimont? rimont has won my heart; young, handsome, Mr. Har. No; but I have heard of the family rich-town house, country house-equipage--there is a very fine fortune-I wish he may hold his intention. to him, and only him, will I surrender myself three and forty, indeed! ha, ha! you see my dear, dear sister, that these features are still regular and blooming; that the love-darting eye has not quite forsook me; and that I have made a conquest which your boasted youth might be vain of. Mrs. Har. Oh, madam, I beg your pardon if I have taken too much liberty for your goodMiss Har. I humbly thank you for your advice, my sweet, dear, friendly sister; but don't envy me, I beg you won't; don't fret yourself; you can't conceive what a deal of good a serenity of mind will do your health. I'll go and write an answer directly to this charming, charming letter-sister, yours-I shall be glad to see you sister, at my house in Hill Street, when I am Mrs. Clerimont—and remember what I tell you -that some faces retain their bloom and beauty longer than you imagine, my dear sister come, Trifle, let me fly this moment-sister, your servant. [Exit MISS HARLOW, with TRIFLE. Mrs. Har. Your servant, my dear. Well, I am determined to lead the gayest life in nature, if she marries Clerimont. I'll have a new equipage, that's one thing-and I'll have greater routs than her, that's another-positively, I must outshine her there-and I'll keep a polite enmity with her go and see her, may be once or twice in a winter- Madam, I am really so hurried with such a number of acquaintances, that I can't possibly find time.'-and then to provoke her, I wish you joy, sister; I hear you are breeding. Ha, ha! that will so mortify herI wish it may be a boy, sister.'-Ha, ha! and then when her husband begins to dispise her, Really sister, I pity you had you taken my advice, and married the India Captain-your case is a compassionate one.'-Compassion is so insolent when a body feels none at all-ha, ha! it is the finest way of insulting Enter MR. HARLOW. Mr. Har. So, my dear; how are my sister's affairs going on? Mrs. Har. Why, I doubt it vastly. Mr. Har. And truly so do I; for between ourselves, I see no charms in my sister Mrs. Har. For my part, I can't comprehend it-how she could strike his fancy, is to me the most astonishing thing-after this, I shall be surprised at nothing Mr. Har. Well, strange things do happen; so she is but married out of the way, I am satisfied-an old maid in a house is the devil Enter a Servant. Ser. Mr. Clerimont, sir, to wait on you. Mrs. Har. My sister wrote to him to explain Enter CLERIMONT. Mr. Har. Sir, I am glad to have this pleasure. Cle. I presume, sir, you are no stranger to the business that occasions this visit ? Mr. Har. Sir, the honour you do me and my family Cle. Oh, sir, so be allied to your family by so tender a tie as marriage to your sister, will at once reflect a credit upon me, and conduce to my happiness in the most essential point. The lady charmed me at the very first sight. Mr. Har. The devil she did! [Aside, Cle. The sensibility of her countenance, the elegance of her figure, the sweetness of her manner -com Mr. Har. Sir, you, are pleased topliment. Cle. Compliment! not in the least, sir. Mr. Har. The sweetness of my sister's manner!-[Aside.]-Ha, ba! Cle. The first time I saw her was a few nights ago at Ranelagh; though there was a crowd of beauties in the room, thronging and pressMrs. Har. Why, my dear she has had ano-ing all around, yet she shone amongst them all ther letter from Mr. Clerimont; did you ever hear of such an odd, unaccountable thing, patched up in a hurry here? Mr. Har. Why, it is sudden to be sure. with superior lustre-she was walking arm in arm with another lady-no opportunity offered for me to form an acquaintance amidst the hurry and bustle of the place, but I enquired their names as they were going into their chariot, and learned they were Mrs. and Miss Harlow. From that moment she won my heart, and, at |