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misfortunes in England are such as make you horse and foot-Down the back stairs, and so justly regret your leaving that place.


Exeunt. L. Hurdy. There is a person in England may

Ladies. Ay, ay. make those losses insensible to me.

L. Har. I tremble, every joint of me. L. Char. Indeed, my lord, there have so very few L. Char. I'm at a stand a little, but rage will of quality attended his majesty in the war, that recover me.-She's coming in. your birth and merit may well hope for his favour.

Enter Widow. L. Hardy. I have, indeed, all the zeal in the world for his majesty's service, and most grateful Wid. Ladies, your servant-I fear I interrupt affection for his person, but did not then mean him. you :-Have you company? Lady Harriot, your

L. Char. But can you, indeed, impartially say, servant ! -Lady Charlotte, your servant !-What, that our island is really preferable to the rest of not a word ?-Oh, I beg your ladyship’s pardon the world, or is it arrogance only in us to think so? Lady Charlotte, did I say? My young Lady

L. Hardy. I profess, madam, that little I have Brumpton, I wish you joy. seen has but more endeared England to me; for L. Char. Oh, your servant, Lady Dowager that medley of humours which perhaps distracts Brumpton-That's an appellation of much more our public affairs, does, methinks, improve our joy to you. private lives, and makes conversation more vari Wid. So smart, madam !-but you should, meous, a nd consequently more pleasing „Every thinks, have made one acquainted-Yet, madam, where else, both men and things have the same your conduct is seen through. countenance.-In France you meet with much L. Char. My conduct, Lady Brumpton ! civility and little friendship; in Holland, deep Wid. Your conduct, Lady Charlotte, attention, but little reflection; in Italy, all plea

[Coming up to each other, sure, but no mirth—but, here with us, where you L. Char. Madam, 'tis you are seen, through all have every where pretenders, or masters in every your thin disguises. thing, you cann't fall into company wherein you Wid. I seen! By whom? shall not be instructed or diverted.

L. Char. By an all-piercing eye; nay, by what L. Char. I never had an account of any thing you much more fear,—the eye of the world-The from you, my lord, but I mourned the loss of world sees you, or shall see you ; it shall know my brother---you would have been so happy a your secret intemperance, your public fastingcompanion for him-With that right sense of Loose poems in your closet, an homily on your yours—My lord, you need not bow so obsequious- toilette-Your easy skilful practised hypocrisy, by ly, for I do you but justice-But you sent me which you wrought on your husband basely to word

of your seeing a lady in Italy very like me transfer the trust and ward of us, two helpless -Did you visit her often?

virgins, into the hands and care of–I cannot L. Hardy. Once or twice; but I observed her name it-You're a wicked woman. so loose a creature, that I could have killed her L. Har. (Aside.] Oh, rare sister ! 'Tis a fine for having your person.

thing to keep one's anger in stock by one: L. Char. I thank you, sir; but Heaven, that pre- that are angry and pleased every half hour have serves me unlike her, will, i hope, make her more nothing at all of this high-flown fury. Why, she like me-But your fellow-traveller-His relations rages like a princess in a tragedy! Blessings on themselves know not a just account of him.

her tongue. L. Hardy. The original cause of his fever was l'id. Is this the effect of your morning lectures, a violent passion for a fine young woman he had your self-examination, -all this fury? not power to speak to-but I told her his regard L. Chur. Yes, it is, madam :-if I take pains for her as passionately as possible,

to govern my passions, it shall not give licence to L. Char. You were to him what Mr Campley others to govern 'em for me. has been to you—Whitler am I running !-Poor Wid. Well, Lady Charlotte, however ill you de- your friend-Poor gentleman.

serve itof me, I shall take care, while thereare locks L. Hardy. I hope, then, as Campley's elo- and bars, to keep you from Lord Hardy-from quence is greater, so has been his success, being a lieger lady—from carrying a knapsack. L. Char. My lord !

L. Char. Knapsack! Do you upbraid the

po. L. Hardy. Your ladyship’s

verty your own wicked arts have brought him

to?-Knapsack! Oh, grant me patience : -Can I Enter Lady HARRIOT.

hear this of the man I love? Knapsack! I have L. Har. Undone! undone!--Tattleaid has not words.

[Stamps about the room, found, by some means or other, that Campley Wid. I leave you to cool upon it ;-love and brought iny lord Hardy hither:-We are utterly anger are very warm passions.

(Erit. ruined ; my lady's coming.

L. Har, She has locked us in. L. Hardy. I'll stay and confront her.

L. Char. Knapsack ! Well, I will break walls L. Char. It must not be we are too much to go to him, I could sit down and cry my eyes in her power.

out! Dear sister, what a rage have I been in.Enter CAMPLEY.

Knapsack ! I'll give vent to my just resentment

Oh, how shall I avoid this base woman, low meet Camp. Come, come, my lord, we're routed, that excellent man--I hope 'tis in fate to crown


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our loves; for it is only in the protection of men | And woman's happiness, for all her scorn, of honour that we are naturally truly safe: Is only by that side whence she was born.



becoming as your dress :-Shall I beg the favour SCENE I.

you'd condescend to let Mr Trim lead you once

round the room, that I may admire the elegance Enter Lord HARDY, CAMPLEY, and Trim. of your habit.

[TRIM leads her round. L. Hardy. That jade Tattleaid saw me upon

L. Hardy. How could you ask such a thing? the stairs; for I had not patience to keep my con

Camp. Pshaw! my lord, you're a bashful Eng

lish fellow-You see she is not surprised at itcealment, but must peep out to see what was become of you.

0, madam, your air !—The negligence, the disCamp. But we have advice, however, it seems, engagement of your manner! Oh, how delicate from the garrison already—This mistress of is your noble nation! When shall you see an Trim's is a mighty lucky accident.

English woman so dressed ? Trim. Ay, gentlemen, she has free egress and

Madem. De Englise ! poor barbarians, poor saregress; and you know the French are the best vages, dey know no more of de dress, but to cover bred people in the world—she'll be assistant- dere nakedness. [Glides along the room.] Dey be but, faith, I have one scruple that hangs about cloded, but no dressed-But, Monsieur Terim, me-and that is—Look you, my lord, we servants

which Monsieur Campley? have no masters in their absence-In a word,

Trim. That's honest Tom Campley. when I am with mademoiselle, I talk of your lord

Camp. At your service, mademoiselle. ship as only a particular acquaintance ; that I do the letter, and recollecting, as loth to deliver it,

Mudem. I fear I incur de censure, [Pulling out business, indeed, for you sometimes I must needs say, cries I, that, indeed,

but Mr Terim being your intimate friend, and I, Lord Hardy

my is really a person I have a great honour for.

designing to honour him in de way of an hus, L. Hardy. Pish! is that all ?-I understand band-So, so :—How do I run away in discourse? you:-Your mistress does not know that you do -I never make promise to Mr Terim before, and me the honour to clean my shoes, or so, upon oc

now do it par accident. casion-Prythee, Will, make yourself as consi

Cump. Dear Will Trim is extremely obliging, in derable as you please.

having prevailed upon you to do a thing that the Trim. Well, then, your lesson is this--She, severity of your virtue, and the greatness of your out of her respect to me, and understanding Mr quality, (though a stranger in the country you now Campley was an intimate of my friend my lord honour by your dwelling in it,) would not let you Hardy, and condescending (though she is of a

otherwise condescend to. great house in France) to make mantuas for the

Madem. Oh, monsieur! Oh, monsieur ! you improvement of the English-which gives her speak my very thoughts--Oh, I don't know how! easy admittance-She, I say, moved by these Pardon me to give a billet-it so look ! Oh, fie!

I cannot stay after it-(Drops it, runs affectedly promises, has vouchsafed to bring a letter from

to the other end of the room, then quite out :-remy lady Harriot to Mr Campley, and came to me to bring her to him. You are to understand, enters.] I beg ten thousand pardons for go so

mal also, that she is dressed in the latest French cut:


(Courtesies us going her dress is the model of their habit, and herself

L. Hardy. Your servant, good madam-Mr of their manners—for she is—But you shall see

Trim, you know you command here—Pray, if her.


Madame d'Epingle will honour our cottage with L. Hardy. This gives me some life !-Cheer longer stay, wait on her in, and entertain herup, Tom-But behold the solemnity-Do you see

Pray, sir, be free. Trim’s gallantry ? I shall laugh out.

Trim. My lord, you know your power over me:

-I'm all complaisance. (Leads her out. Enter Trim, leading in Mademoiselle.

Cump. Now to my dear epistle.Trim. My dear Lord Hardy, this is Made. • Sir, moiselle d'Épingle, whose name you've often • There is one thing which you were too geneheard me sigh-Lord HARDY sulules her.] Mr rous to touch upon in our last conversation-We Campley, Mademoiselle d'Epingle.

have reason to fear the widow's practices in rela(CAMPLEY sulutes her. tion to our fortune, if you are not too quick for Madem. Votre servante, gentlemen, votre ser-her--I ask Lady Charlotte whether this is not her

sense to Lord Hardy-She says nothing, but lets Camp. I protest to you I never saw any thing so inc write on—These people always have, and


my lord

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will have admittance every where, therefore we thought common to all; and, as Formal has only may hear from you.


appearance of virtue, so she has only the apI am, sir,

pearance of vice

-What chance, I wonder, Your most obedient servant, put these contradictions to each other into the HARRIOT LOVELY.' same coach, as you say they called Mrs Fran

ces and Mrs Winifred Glebe, who are they? My obedient servant ! Thy obedience shall ever Tal. They are the country great fortunes, have be as voluntary as now-Ten thousand thousand been out of town this whole year ; they are those kisses on thee—thou dear paper Look


whom your ladyslip said, upon being very wel! -What a pretty hand it is? born, took upon them to be very ill bred. L. Hardy. Why, Tom, thou dost not give me Wid. Did I say so ? Really I think it was apt leave to see it -you snatch it to your mouth enough, now I remember them- Lady Wrinkle. so you'll stifle the poor lady.

Oh, that smug old woman! there is no enduring Camp. Look you, my lord, all along the lines, her affectation of youth:--but I plague her: J als here went the pen, and through the white inter- ways ask whether her daughter in Wiltshire has vals her snowy fingers. Do you see? This is her a grandchild yet or not-Lady Worth. I cann't name.

bear her company, she has so much of that virtue L. Hardy. Nay, there's Lady Charlotte's name in her heart which I have in my mouth only. too in the midst of the letter-Why, you'll not (Aside.)--Mrs After-day. Oh, that's she that be so unconscionable—you're so greedy—you'll was the great beauty, the mighty toast about give me one kiss, sure.

town, that's just come out of the small-pox: she Camp. Well, you shall, but you're so eager- is horribly pitted, they say: I long to see her, Don't bite me—for you sha'n't have it in your and plague her with my condolence. 'Tis a pure hands-There, there, there-Let go my hand. ill-natured satisfaction to see one that was a

L. Hardy. What an exquisite pleasure there is beauty unfortunately move with the same lanin this foolery -But what shall we do? guor and softness of behaviour that once was

Camp. I have a thought.-Pr’ythee, my lord, charming in her; to see, I say, her mortify, that call Trim.

used to kill: ha, ha, ha !--The rest are a cataL. Hardy. Ha, Trim !

logue of mere names, or uitles they were born to; Camp. Hold, Mr Trim-You forget his mistress an insipid crowd of neither good nor bad. But is there.

you are sure these other ladies suspect not in the L. Hardy. Graʼmercy!-Dear Will Trim, step least that I know of their coming ? in hither.

Tut. No, dear madam; they are to ask for Camp. Ay, that's something.

Wid. I hear a coach(Exit TATTLEAID. Enter TRIM.

I have now an exquisite pleasure in the thought Trim, have not I seen a young woman sometimes of surpassing my lady Sly, who pretends to have carry Madame d'Epingle's trinkets for her, coming out-grieved the whole town for her husband.from my lady Brumpton's ?

They are certainly coming. Oh, no!-Here let Trim. Yes, you might have seen such a one: me-thus let me sit and think-(IVidow on her she waits for her now.

couch; while she is raving, as to herself, TATCump. Do you think you could not prevail for TLEAID softly introduces the ladies.] Wretched, me to be dressed in that wench's clothes, and at- disconsolate as I am! Oh, welcome, welcome, tend your mistress in her stead thither? They'll dear, killing anguish! Oh, that I could lie down not dream we should so soon attend again. and die in my present heaviness! But whatTrim. Yes, I'll engage.

how? Nay, my dear, dear lord, why do you Cump. Then, we'll trust the rest to our good look so pale, so ghastly at me? Wottoo, wottoo! genius : I'll about it instantly -Harriot Love fright thy own trembling, shivering wife! ly! [Exeunt, kissing the letter. Tat. Nay, good madam, be comforted. Wid. Thou shalt not have ine

(Pushes Enter Widow and TATTLEAID.

TATTLEAID.) Wid. This was well done of you. Be sure you Tat. Nay, good madam, 'tis I, 'tis I, your lady. take care of their young ladyships : you shall, i ship's own woman :-'Tis 1, madam, that dress promise you, have a snip in the sale of them.

you, talk to you, and tell you all that's done in Tat. I thank your good ladyship.

the house every day :-'Tis I Wid. Is that the porter's paper of how d'ye's? Wid. Is it then possible? Is it then possible

Tat. Yes, madam; he just sent it up : his ge- that I am left? Speak to me not, hold me not: neral answer is, that you are as well as can be I'll break the listening walls with my complaints, expected in your condition ; but that you see no- (Looks surprised at seeing the company, then sebody.

verely at TATTLEAID.) Ah, Tattleaid! Wid. That's right-[Reuding names.] Lady 1st Lady. Nay, madam, be not angry at her: Riggle, Lady Formal-Oh, that Riggle ! a pert we would come in, in spite of her: we are your ogler- an indiscreet, silly thing, who is really friends, and are as concerned as you are. known by no man, yet, for her carriage, justly Wid. Ah, madam, madam, madam, madam,


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I am an undone woman! Oh, me! alas, alas !

5th Lady. Alas! some people think there is Oh, Oh! (All join in her noles.] I swoon! I ex- nothing but being fine to be genteel; but the pire!

(Faints. high prance of the horses, and the brisk inso2d Lady. Pray, Mrs Tattleaid, bring some lence of the servants, in an equipage of quality, thing that is cordial to her. (Exit TATTLEAID. are inimitable,,but to our own beasts and ser

31 Lady. Indeed, madam, you should have patience :--bis lordship was old. To die is but go 1 st Lady. Now you talk of an equipage, I envy ing before in a journey we must all take. this lady the beauty she will appear in in a mournEnter Tattlesid, louded with bottles; sd Lady confess I'myself mourned for two years for no

ing coach, it will so become her coinplexion; I takes a bottle from her, and drinks.

other reason.—Take up that hood there. Oh, 4th Lady. Lord, how my lady Fleer drinks ! that fair face with a veil! I have heard, indeed, but never could believe it

[They take up her hood. of her.

(Drinks also. Wid. Fie, fie, ladies ! But I have been told, Ist Lady. But, madam, don't you hear what indeed, black does become. the town says of the jill-firt, the men liked so 2d Lady. Well, I'll take the liberty to speak it: much in the Park? Hark ye-Was seen - There is young Nutbrain has long had" (I'll be with him in a hackney-coach-and silk stock sworn) a passion for this lady: but i'll tell you ings-key-hele his wig-on the chair one thing I fear she'll dislike, that is, he is younger

(Whispers by interruption. than she is. 2d Lady. Impudent Airt, to be found out ! 3d Lady. No, that's no exception; but I'll 3d Lady. But I speak it only to you.

tell you one,,he is younger than his brother. 4th Ludy. Nor I, but to one more.

Wid. Ladies, talk not of such affairs. Who [ll'hispers next Woman. could love such an unhappy relict as I am? But, 5th lady. I cann't believe it; nay, I always dear madam, what grounds have you for that thought it, madam. [Whispers the Widou. idle story?

Wid. Sure, 'tis impossible !--The demure, prim 4th Lady. Why, he toasts you, and trembles thing-Sure all the world is hypocrisy - Well, where you are spoke of. It must be a match. I thank my stars, whatsoever sufferings I have, Wid. Nay, nay, you rally; you rally; but I I have none in my reputation. I wonder at the know you mean it kindly. men :-I could never think her handsome. She 1st Lady. I swear we do. has really a good shape and complexion, but no

[TATTLEAID whispers the Widow. mien; and no woman has the use of her beauty Wid. But I must beseech you, ladies, since you without mien: her charms are dumb; they want have been so compassionate as to visit and acutterance. But whether does distraction lead company my sorrow, to give me the only comfort me to talk of charms?

I can now know,—to see my friends cheerful, and 1st Ludy. Charms ! A chir’s, a girl's charms ! to honour an entertainment Tattleaid has pre

-Come, let us widows be true to ourselves; pared within for you. If I can find strength keep our countenances and our characters; and enough, I'll attend you : but I wish you would a fig for the maids; I mean, the unmarried. excuse me; for I have no relish of food or joy,

2d Lady. Ay, since they will set up for our but will try to get a bit down in my own chamknowledge, why should not we for their ignor- ber. ance?

1st Lady. There is no pleasure without you. 3d lady. But, madam, o' Sunday morning, at Wid. But, madam, I must beg of your ladychurch, I court'sied to you, and looked at a great ship not to be so importune to my fresh calamity, fuss, in a glaring light dress, next pew. That as to mention Nutbrain any more. I am sure strong masculine thing is a knight's wife, pre there is nothing in it. In love with me, quoth-a! tends to all the tenderness in the world, and

[Is led off. Exeunt Ladics, &c. would fain put the unwieldy upon us, for the soft, the languid. She has of a sudden left her diary,

Enter Mademoiselle, and CAMPLEY, in woand set up for a fine town lady; calls her maid man's clothes, carrying her things. Cistey her woman; speaks to her by her surname Madem. I am very glad to be in de ladies antiof Mrs Cherryfist; and her great foot-boy, of nine- chamber : -1 was shamed of you, you such im. teen, big enough for a trooper, is stripped in pudent look: besides, me wonder you were not to a lace coat, now Mr Page, forsooth.

seized by the constable, when you pushed de 4th Lady. Oh, I have seen her-Well, I heart. man into de kennel.

some people for their wealth ; they Cump. Why, should I have let him kissed me? might have been anknown else — You would Mudem. No; but if you had hit him wit fan, die

, madam, to see her and her equipage. I thought and say, Why, sure, saucy-box,—it been enough: the honest fat tits, her horses, were ashamed of beside, what you hitted'de gentleman for offer their finery; they dragged on as if they were all kisse me? at plough, and a great bashful-look'd booby be Camp. I beg pardon, I did not know you were hind, grasp'd the couch as if lie had held one. pleased with it.

ily pity

Madem. Please! no; but me rader be kisse | But bless me more than fortune can, by turning den you, Mr Terim's friend, be found out. Could those fair eyes upon, madam, not you say, when he kisse me, Sure, sauce-box,

Your most faithful, dat's meat for your master. Besides, you take

Most obedient, humble servant, such strides when you walk-Oli, fie ! dese lit

THOMAS CAMPLEY! tle pette tiny bits a woman steps.

(Sheving her step. What does he mean ?-But bless me more, by Camp. But pr'ythee, mademoiselle, why have turning !--Oh, 'tis he himself! (Looking about, you lost your English tongue all of a sudden? observes CAMP. smile.) Oh, the hoyden! the Methought, when the fellow called us French romp! I did not think any thing could add to whores, as we came along, and said we caine to your native confidence : but you look so very starve their own people, you gave them pretty bold in that dress, and your arms fall off, and plain English:-he was a dog, a rascal, you'd send your petticoats, how they hang ! him to the stocks.

Cuinp. Mademoiselle, voulez vous de salville Mudem. Ha, ha, ha! I was in a passion, and l'eau de Hongrie, chez Monsieur Marchant de betrayed myself; but you are my lover's friend, Montpelier-Dis for your teet. (Shewing his and a man of honour, therefore know you will trinkets.] De Essence; a little French book, for do nothing to injure us. Why, Mr Campley, teach de elder brother make compliments. Will you must know I can speak as good English as you, I say, have any thing that I have? Will

Il you you; but I don't, for fear of losing my customers : have all I have, madam - The English will never give a price for any thing Lady Har. Yes, and, for the humour's sake, they understand ; nay, I have known some of will never part with this box while I live; ha, Four fools pretend to buy with good-breeding, ha, ha! and give any rate, rather than not be thought to Camp. But, Lady Harriot, we must not stand have French enough to know what they are do laughing; as you observe in your letter, delays ing:--strange and far-fetched things they only are dangerous in this wicked woman's custody like: Don't you see how they swallow gallons of of you; therefore, I must, madam, beseech you, the juice of tea, while their own doch-leaves are and

pray, stay not on niceties, but be advised. trod under foot ? Mum-My lady Harriot. Lady Har. Mr Campley, I have no will but

yours. Enter Lady HARRIOT.

Camp. Thou dear creature !-But (Kisses her Madame, votre servante, servante.

hand] hark'e, then you must change dresses with Ludy Har. Well, mademoiselle, did you deli- mademoiselle, and go with me instantly. ter my letter?

Lady Hur. What you please. Madem. Oui.

Camp. Madame d'Epingle, I must desire you Lady Hur. Well, and how? Is that it in your to comply with a humour of gallantry of ours:hand ?

You may be sure I'll have an eye over the treatMadem. Oui.

ment you have upon my account-only to change Lady Har. Well, then, why don't you give it habits with Lady Harriot, and let her go while

you stay. Madem. Oh, fie, lady! dat be so right Englise: Mudem. Wit all my heart. -De Englise mind only de words of de lovers; but

[Offers to undress herself. de words of de lovers are often lie, but de action Lady Har. What! before Mr Campley ?

Madem. Oh! Oh! very Anglaise! Dat is so Lady Har. What does the thing mean? Give Englise:-All women of quality in France are me my letter.

dress and undress by a valet-de-chambre : de man Madem. Me did not deliver your letter. chamber-maid help complexion better den de woLady Har. No!

Madem. No: me tell you me did drop it to see Lady Har. Nay, that's a secret in dress, maMr Campley how cavalier take it up. As dese demoiselle, I never knew before ; and am so unme did drop it, so monsieur run to take it up.- polished an English woman, as to resolve never {They both run to take it up ; Madem. takes it to learn even to dress before my husband. Oli

, wp-]-Dus he do---Deredeletter —Very well

, indecency! Mr Campley, do you hear what mavery well. Oh, l'amour! You act de manner demoiselle says? Mr Campley—Take it up better than I :-Do Madem. Oh, hist!--Bagatelle. you not see it?

Lady Har. Well, we'll run in, and be ready [They both run; HARRIOT gets it. in an instant.

(Exeunt Lady HARRIOT and Mademoiselle. Lady Har. (Reads.]

Camp. Well, I like her every minute better • Madam,

and better. What a delicate chastity she has ! • I am glad you have mentioned, what, in- There is something so gross in the carriage of deed, I did not at that time think of, nor, if I had, some wives, (though they are honest too,) that should I have known how to have spoken of. I they lose their husband's hearts for faults whiclos


no lie.


(Apurt to Har.

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