SCENE I.-A Room. ACT I. Enter ARABELLA, and SOPHIA in Men's clothes. Ara. Indeed, my dear, you'll repent this frolic. Sop. Indeed, my dear, then it will be the first frolic I ever repented in all my life. Look ye, Bell, 'tis in vain to oppose me, for I am resolved. The only way to find out his character, is to see him thus, and converse freely with him. If he is the wretch he is reported to be, I shall away with him at once; and if he is not, he will thank me for the trial, and our union will be the stronger. Ara. I never knew a woman yet, who had prudence enough to turn off a pretty fellow, be cause he had a little more wickedness han the rest of his neighbours. Sop. Then I will be the first to set a better example.-If I did not think a man's character was of some consequence, I should not now run such risks, and encounter such difficulties, to be better acquainted with it. Ara. Ah, Sophy! if you have love enough to be jealous, and jealousy enough to try these experiments- -don't imagine, though you should make terrible discoveries, that you can immediately quit your inclinations,with your breeches; and return so very philosophically to your petticoats again, ha, ha! Sop. You may be as merry with my weaknes ses, as you please, madam : but I know my own heart, and can rely upon it. Ara. We are great bullies by nature; but courage and swaggering are two things, cousin. Sop. Since you are as little to be convinced, as I am to be persuaded-your servant [Going. Ara. Nay, Sophy, this is unfriendly-if you are resolved upon your scheme, open to me without reserve, and I'll assist you. Sop. Imprimis, then; I confess to you, that I have a kind of whimsical attachment to Daffodil; not but I can see his vanities and laugh at them. Ara. And like him better for them-Sop. Pshaw! don't plague me, Bell-my other lover, the jealous Mr. Tukely Ara. Who loves you too well to be successful Sop. And whom I really esteem Ara. As a good sort of a man, ha, ha, ha! Ara. Had not a prettier fellow stept in between, who perhaps does not care a farthing for you Sop. That's the question, my dear-Tukely, I say, either stung by jealousy, or unwilling to lose me, without a struggle, has intreated me to know more of his rival, before I engage too far with him-Many strange things he has told me, which have piqued me, I must confess, and I am now prepared for the proof. Ara. You'll certainly be discovered, and put to shame. Sop. I have secured my success already. Sop. I have seen him, conversed with him, and am to meet him again to day, by his own appointment. Ara. Madness! it can't be. Sop. But it has been, I tell youAra. How? how? Quickly, quickly, dear Sophy? Sop. When you went to Lady Fanny's last night, and left me, as you thought, little disposed for a frolic, I dressed me as you see, called a chair, and went to the King's Arms, asked for my gentleman, and was shewn into a room; he immediately left the company, and came to me. Ara. I tremble for you. Sop. I introduced myself as an Italian nobleman, just arrived: Il Marchese di MacaroniAra. Ridiculous! ha, ha! Sop. An intimate of Sir Charles Vainlove's, who is now at Rome-I told him my letters were with my baggage, at the custom-houseHe received me with all the openness imaginable, and would have introduced me to his friends. I begged to be excused, but promised to attend him to-day, and am now ready, as you see, to keep my word. Ara. Astonishing!-and what did you talk about? Sop. Of various things women among the rest; and though I have not absolutely any open acts of rebellion against him, yet I fear he is a traitor at heart—and then such vanity!—but I had no time to make great discoveries—it was merely the prologue-The play is to come. Ara. Act your part well, or we shall hiss you. Sop. Never fear me; you don't know what a mad, raking, wild young devil I can be, if I set my mind to it, Bell. [Laying hold of her. Ara. You fright me !-you shall positively be no bed-fellow of mine any longer. Sop. I am resolved to ruin my woman, and kill my man, before I get into petticoats again. Ara. Take care of a quarrel though—a rival may be too rough with you. Sop. No, no, fighting is not the vice of these times; and, as for a little swaggering, damn it, I can do it as well as the best of them. Ara. Hush, hush! Mr. Tukely is hereSop. Now for a trial of skill; if I deceive him, you'll allow, that half of my business is done. [She walks aside, takes out a glass, and looks at the pictures. Ara. Indeed, Mr. Tukely, I have so many caprices, and follies of my own, that I can't possibly answer for my cousin's too. Sop. Well said, Bell! [Aside. Tuke. Answer, miss! No, Heaven forbid you should!—for my part, I have given up all my hopes as a lover, and only, now, feel for her as a friend-and indeed as a friend, a sincere friend, I can't but say, that going out in a hackney chair, without a servant, and endeavouring to conceal herself, is somewhat incompatible with Miss Sophy's rank and reputation. This I speak as a friend, not as a lover, Miss Bell! pray mind that. Ara. I see it very plainly, Mr. Tukely, and it gives me great pleasure, that you can be so in different in your love, and yet so jealous in your friendship. Tuke. You do me honour, miss, by your good opinion. [Walks about, and sees SOPHY.]-Who's that, pray? her Ara. A gentleman who is waiting for Sophy. Tuke. I think she has gentlemen waiting for every where. Sop. I am afraid, sir, [Coming up to him with her glass.] you'll excuse me, that notwithstanding your declaration, and this lady's compli Ara. Sophia! No, no; she is in a hackneyments, there is a little of the devil, called jea-chair, you know, without a servant, in her pink lousy, at the bottom of all this uneasiness. negligee-Ha, ha, ha! Tuke. Sir! Sop. I say, sir, wear your cloak as long as you please, the hoof will peep out, take my word for it. Tuke. Upon my word, sir, you are pleased to honour me with a familiarity which I neither expected, or indeed desired, upon so slight an acquaintance. Sop. I dare swear you did not. [Turns off, and hums a tune. Tuke. I am astonished! and can scarce believe my own eyes-What means this metamorposis? Sop. 'Tis in obedience to your commandsThus equipped, I have got access to Daffodil, and shall know whether your picture of him is drawn by your regard for me, or resentment to him-I will sound him, from his lowest note to the top of his compass.' Tuke. Your spirit transports me-This will Tuke. I don't understand this! be a busy, and, I hope, a happy day for me. I Ara. This is beyond expectation. [Aside. have appointed no less than five ladies to meet Sop. I suppose, sir, you never was out of Eng- me at the widow Damply's; to each of whom, land? [Picking her teeth. as well as yourself, the accomplished Mr. DaffoTuke. I presume, sir, that you are mistaken-dil has presented his heart; the value of which I never was so foolishly fond of my own coun-I am resolved to convince them of this night, try, to think that nothing good was to be had out for the sake of the whole sex. of it; nor so shamefully ungrateful to it, to prefer the vices and fopperies of every other nation, to the peculiar advantages of my own. Sop. Pooh, pooh! that's the old story-You are so prejudiced Tuke. I am afraid 'tis you who are prejudicmadam; for, if you will believe your own Sop. Ha, ha! well said, Old England, i'faith!-ed, Now, madam, if this gentleman would put this eyes and ears— speech into a farce, and properly lard it with Sop. That I will, I assure you; I shall visit roast beef, and liberty. I would engage the gal-him immediately. He thinks me in the country; leries would roar and halloo at it for half an hour together, ha, ha, ha! Ara. Now the storm's coming. [Aside. Tuke. If you are not engaged, sir, we'll adjourn to the next tavern, and write this farce be tween us. Sop. I fancy, sir, by the information of your face, that you are more inclined to tragedy, than comedy Tuke. I shall be inclined to treat you very ill, if you don't walk out with me. Sop. I have been treated so very ill already, in the little conversation I have had with you, that you must excuse my walking out for more of it; but if you'll persuade the lady to leave the room, I'll put you to death-damme [Going up to him. Ara. For Heaven's sake! what's the matter, gentlemen? Tuke. What can I do with this fellow? Sop. Madam, don't be alarmed: this affair will be very short; I am always expeditious; and will cut his throat, without shocking you in the least:-Come, sir, [Draws.] if you won't defend yourself, I must kick you about the room. [Advancing. Tuke. Respect for this lady, and this house, has curbed my resentment hitherto: But as and, to confirm it, I'll write to him as from thence. But ask me no more questions about what I have done, and what is to be done; for I have not a moment to lose; and so, my good friend Tukely, yours-My dear Bell, I kiss your hand. [Kisses her hand.] You are a fine woman, by Heavens! Here, Joseppi, Brunello, Francesi, where are my fellows there? Call me a chair. Viva l'Amor, et liberta [Exit, singing. Ara. Ha, ha! there is a spirit for you! Well, now, what do you stare at? You could not well? desire more- -O, fie, fie! don't sigh and bite your fingers; rouse yourself, man; set all your wits to work; bring this faithless Corydon to shame, and I'll be hanged if the prize is not yours. If she returns in time, I'll bring her to the widow Damply's Tuke. Dear Miss Arabella Ara. Well, well; make me a fine speech another time. About your business nowTuke. I fly [Exit. Ara. What a couple of blind fools has love made of this poor fellow, and my dear cousin Sophy! Little do they imagine, with all their wise discoveries, that Daffodil is as faithful a lover, as he is an accomplished gentleman. I pity these poor deceived women with all my heart! But how will they stare, when they find that he | so young and pressing, that I'll give it up, Rufhas artfully pretended a regard for them, the fle;-the town talks of us, and I am satisfied. better to conceal his real passion for me! They will certainly tear my eyes out: and what will cousin Sophy say to me, when we are obliged to declare our passion? No matter what-'Tis the fortune of war; and I shall only serve her, as she and every other friend would serve me in the same situation Ruf. Exactly, sir. Daf. And you are sure, that Mr. Dotterel saw you slip the note into his wife's hand? Ruf. I have alarmed him, and you may be assured, that he is as uneasy as you would wish to have him. But I should be glad, with your honour's leave, to have a little serious conservation with you; for my mind forebodes much peril to the bones of your humble servant, and very little satisfaction to your honour. Daf. Thou art a most incomprehensible blockhead Ruf. No great scholar or wit, indeed: but I can feel an oak sappling, as well as another; ay, and I should have felt one last night, if I had not had the heels of all Mr. Dotterel's family-I had the whole pack after me Daf. And did not they catch you? Ruf. No, thank Heaven Daf. You was not kicked, then? Ruf. No, sir. Daf. Nor caned? Ruf. No, sir. Daf. Nor dragged through a horse-pond? Ruf. O, lord! No, sir. Daf. That's unlucky Ruf. Sir! Daf. You must go again, Ruffle, to-night; perhaps you may be in better luck. Ruf. If I go again, sir, may I be caned, kicked, and horse-ponded for my pains. I believe I have been lucky enough to bring an old house over your head. Duf. What do you meau? Ruf. Mr. Dotterel only hobbled after me, to pay me for the postage of your letter; but being a little out of wind, he soon stopt to curse and swear at me. I could hear himi mutter something of scoundrel, and pimp, and my master, and villain-and blunderbuss and saw pit; and then he shook his stick, and looked like the devil! Daf. Blunderbuss, and saw pit! This business grows a little serious, and so we'll drop it. The husband is so old and peevish, and she Ruf, Pray, sir, with submission, for what end do you write to so many ladies, and make such a rout about them? there are now upon the list half a dozen maids, a least of wives, and the widow Damply. I know your honour don't intend mischief; but what pleasure can you have in deceiving them, and the world? for you are thought a terrible young gentleman. Daf. Why that pleasure, booby! Ruf. I don't understand it-What do you intend to do with them all? Ruin them? Daf. Not I, faith. Ruf. But you'll ruin their reputations? Daf. That's their business; not mine. Ruf. Will you marry any one of them? Daf. O, no! that would be finishing the game at once. If I preferred one, the rest would take it ill; so, because I won't be particular, I give them all hopes, without going a step further. Ruf. Widows can't live upon such slender diet. Daf. A true sportsman has no pleasure but in the chase; the game is always given to those who have less taste, and better stomachs. Ruf. I love to pick a bit I must confessReally, sir, I should not care what became of half the women you are pleased to be merry with-but, Miss Sophy, sure, is a heavenly creature, and deserves better treatment; and to make love to her cousin, too, in the same house! that is very cruel. Daf. But it amuses one-besides they are both fine creatures. And how do I know, if I loved only one, but the other might poison herself? Ruf. And when they know that you have loved them both, they may poison one another. -This affair will make a great noise. Daf. Or I have taken a great deal of pains for nothing. But, no more prating, sirrah; while I read my letters, go and ask Harry what cards and messages he has taken in this morning. Ruf. There's no mending him! [Exit RUFFLE, Daf [Opens letters.] This is from the widow Dan. ply. I know her scrawl at a mile's distance she pretends that the fright of her husband's death hurt her nerves so, that her hand has shook ever since-ha, ha, ha! It has hurt her spelling too, for here is joy with a G; ha, ha! poor creature! [Reads.] Hum-hum-bum. Well said, widow; she speaks plain, faith, and grows urgent. I must get quit of her-she desires a téte a tête; which, with widows, who have suffered much for the loss of her husband, is, as Captain Bobadil says, a service of danger-So, I am off. [Opens another.] What the devil have we here? A bill in Chancery: Oh, no! my tailor's billSum Total, three hundred and seventy-four pounds, eleven shillings, and five pence, three farthings. Indeed, Monsieur Chicaneau, this is a damned bill, and you will be damned for mak- | but this morning-There are quicker successions ing it; therefore, for the good of your soul, in your honour's list, than the court-calendar. Mons. Chicaneau, you must make another. Daf. Strike off Mrs. Dotterell, and the widow [Tears it.] The French know their consequnce, and use us accordingly. [Opens another.] This is from Newmarket. " May it please your honour, [Reads. I would not have you think of matching Cherry-Derry with Gingerbread; he is a terrible horse, and very covetous of his ground.-I have chopt Hurlothrumbo for the Roan mare, and fifty pounds. Sir Roger has taken the match off your hands, which is a good thing; for the mare has the distemper, and must have forfeited. I flung his honour's groom, though he was above an hour in the stable. The nutmeg grey, Custard, is matched with Alderman. Alderman has a long wind, and will be too hard for Custard. 'I am, your honour's 'Most obedient servant, ROGER WHIP.' Whip is a genius, and a good servant. I have not as yet lost above a thousand pounds by my horses; but such luck can't always last. Enter RUFFLE, with cards. Ruf. There's the morning's cargo, sir. [Throws them down upon the table. Daf. Hey-day! I can't read them in a month; pr'ythee, Ruffle, set down my invitations from the cards, according to their date, and let me see them to-morrow morning-So much reading would distract me. Ruf. And yet these are the only books that gentlemen read now-a-days. [Aside. Enter a Servant. Ser. An' please your honour, I forgot to tell you, that there was a gentleman here last night. I've forgot his name. Ruf Old Mr. Dotterel, perhaps? Ser. Old; no, no, he looks younger than his honour. I believe he's mad, he can't stand still a moment; he first capered out of the chair, and when I told him your honour was not at home, he capered into it again—said he would call again, jabbered something, and away he went, singing. Daf. 'Tis the Marquis of Maccaroni; I saw him at the King's Arms yesterday: Admit him when he comes, Harry. Ser. I shall, your honour-I can neither write or remember these outlandish names. [Exit Servant. Daf. Where is my list of women, Ruffle, and the places of their abode, that we may strike off Some, and add the new acquisitions? Ruf. What, alter again! I wrote it out fair Damply. Ruf. They are undone. [Strikes them out. Enter Servant. Ser. A lady, Mr. Ruffle, in a chair, must speak with you. it is. Daf. Did she ask for me? See, Ruffle, who Exit. Ser. No, your honour; but she looked quite flustrated. Daf. Well, go below, and be careful not to let any old gentleman in this morning; and, d'ye hear? if any of the neighbours should inquire who the lady is, you may say it is a relation;and be sure smile, do you hear? when you tell them so. Ser. I shall your honour-He, he, he! I am never melancholy. [Exit. Daf. That fellow's a character. Enter RUFFle. Ruf. Sir, it is Mrs. Dotterel; she has had a terrible quarrel with her husband about your letter, and has something to say of consequence to you both-she must see you, she says. Daf. I won't see her-Why would you say that I was at home-You know I hate to be alone with them, and she's so violent tooWell, well, shew her up-This is so unlucky Ruf. He hates to see duns he never intends to pay. [Exit RUFFLE. Daf. What shall I do with her? This is worse than meeting her husband with a blunderbuss in a saw-pit. Enter MRS. DOTTEREL, and RUFFLE. Dear Mrs. Dotterel, this is so obligingRuffle, don't let a soul come near me. [Aloud.] And, harky'e, don't leave us long together, and let every body up that comes. [Aside. Ruf. What a deal of trouble here is about nothing! [Exit RUFFLE. Mrs. Dot. In the name of virtue, Mr. Daffodil, I hope you have not given any private orders, that may in the least derogate from that absolute confidence which I place in your honour? Daf. You may be pefectly easy under this roof, madam. I hope, I am polite enough not to let my passions of any kind run too great lengths in my own house. Mrs. Dot. Nothing but absolute necessity could have made me take this imprudent stepI am ready to faint with my apprehensions— Heigh ho! Daf. Heaven forbid !--I'll call for some as[Going to ring. Mrs. Dot. Let your bell alone! [Stopping sistance. K |