Cha. Not a sous ont of his pocket, I assure you I had an uncle who defray'd that charge; but for some little wildnesses of youth, though he made me his heir, left dad my guardian till I came to years of discretion, which I presume the old gentleman will never think I am! and now, he has got the estate into his clutches, it does me no more good than if it lay in Prester John's dominions.

Sir Geo. What, canst thou find no stratagem to redeem it?

Cha. I have made many essays to no purpose; though want, the mistress of invention, still tempts me on, yet still the old fox is too cunning for me.-I am upon my last project, which, if it fails, then for my last refuge, a brown musquet.

Sir Geo. What is't? can I assist thee? Cha. Not yet; when you can, I have confidence enough in you to ask it.

Sir Geo. I am always ready. But what does he intend to do with Miranda? Is she to be sold in private, or will he put her up by way of auction, at who bids most? if so, 'egad I'm for him; my gold, as you say, shall be subservient to my pleasure.

Chu. To deal ingenuously with you, Sir George, I know very little of her or home; for, since my uncle's death and my return from travel, I have never been well with my father; he thinks my expences too great, and I his allowance too little; he never sees me but he quarrels, and, to avoid that, I shun his house as much as possible. The report is, he intends to marry her himself.

Sir Geo. Can she consent to it?

Cha. Yes, faith, so they say: but I tell you, I am wholly ignorant of the matter. Miranda and I are like two violent members of a contrary party; I can scarce allow her beauty, though all the world does, nor she me civility for that contempt. I fancy she plays the mother-in-law already, and sets the old gentleman on to do mischief.

Sir Geo. Then I have your free consent to get her?

Cha. Ay, and my helping hand, if occasion be. Sir Geo. Poh! yonder's a fool coming this way, let's avoid him.

Cha. What, Marplot? No, no, he's my instrument; there's a thousand conveniencies in him; he'll lend me his money when he has any, run of my errands, and be proud on't; in short, he'll pimp for me, lie for me, drink for me, do any thing but fight for me; and that I trust to my

Mar. I must confess 'tis a little mal à-propos; but no matter for that. A word with you, Charles. Pr'ythee, introduce me to Sir George-he is a man of wit, and I'd give ten guineas to

Cha. When you have 'em, you mean.

Mar. Ay, when I have 'em; pugh, pox, you cut the thread of my discourse- -I would give ten guineas, I say, to be rank'd in his acquaintance. Well, 'tis a vast addition to a man's fortune, according to the rout of the world, to be seen in the company of leading men; for then we are all thought to be politicians, or whigs, or jacks, or high-flyers, or low-flyers, or levellers-and so forth; for you must know we all herd in parties now. Cha. Then a fool for diversion is out of fashion I find.

Mar. Yes, without it be a mimicking fool, and they are darlings every where. But, pr'ythee, introduce me.

Cha. Well, on condition you'll give us a true account how you came by that mourning nose, I will.

Mur. I'll do it.

Cha. Sir George, here's a gentleman has a passionate desire to kiss your hand.

Sir Geo. Oh, I honour men of the sword! and I presume this gentleman is lately come from Spain or Portugal-by his scars.

Mar. No, really, Sir George, mine sprung from civil fury. Happening last night into the groom porter's-I had a strong inclination to go ten guineas with a sort of a, sort of a-kind of a milksop, as I thought. A pox of the dice! he flung out, and my pockets being empty, as Charles knows they often are, he proved a surly North Briton, and broke my face for my deficiency.

Sir Geo. Ha, ha! and did not you draw?

Mar. Draw, sir! why, I did but lay my hand upon my sword to make a swift retreat, and he roar'd out, Now the deel ha ma saul, sir, gin ye touch yer steel I'se whip mine through yer wem. Sir Geo. Ha, ha, ha!

Cha. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Safe was the word. So you walk'd off, I suppose.

Mar. Yes, for I avoid fighting, purely to be serviceable to my friends, you know

Sir Geo. Your friends are much obliged to you, sir: I hope you'll rank me in that number.

Mar. Sir George, a bow from the side box, or to be seen in your chariot, binds me ever yours. Sir Geo. Trifles; you may command 'em when you please.

Cha. Provided he may command you.

Mar. Me! Why I live for no other purpose -Sir George, I have the honour to be caress'd by most of the reigning toasts of the town: I'll tell 'em you are the finest gentleman

Sir Geo. No, no, pr'ytheé let me alone to tell the ladies my parts-Can you convey a letter upon occasion, or deliver a message with an air of business, ha?

Mar. With the assurance of a page and the gravity of a statesman.

Sir Geo. You know Miranda.

Mar. What! my sister ward? why, her guar,

dian is mine; we are fellow-sufferers. Ah, he is a covetous, cheating, sanctified curmudgeon: that Sir Francis Gripe is a damn'd old-hypocritical

Cha. Hold, hold; I suppose, friend, you forget that he is my father.

Mar. 'Egad, and so I did, Charles—I ask your pardon, Charles, but it is for your sake I hate him. Well, I say the world is mistaken in him; his outside piety makes him every man's executor, and his inside cunning makes him every heir's. gaoler. 'Egad, Charles, I'm half persuaded that thou'rt some ward too, and never of his gettingfor never were two things so unlike as you and your father; he scrapes up every thing, and thou spend'st every thing; every body is indebted to him, and thou art indebted to every body.

Cha. You are very free, Mr Marplot. Mar. Ay, I give and take, Charles—you may be as free with me you know.

Sir Geo. A pleasant fellow.

Cha. The dog is diverting sometimes, or there would be no enduring his impertinence. He is pressing to be employed, and willing to execute; but some ill fate generally attends all he undertakes, and he oftener spoils an intrigue than helps it.

Mar. I have always your good word, but if I miscarry 'tis none of my fault; I follow my instructions.

Cha. Yes, witness the merchant's wife.
Mar. Pish, pox! that was an accident.
Sir Geo. What was it, pr'ythee?
Mur. Nay, Charles, now don't expose your

friend.

Cha. Why, you must know I had lent a certain merchant my hunting horses, and was to have met his wife in his absence. Sending him along with my groom to make the compliment, and to deliver a letter to the lady at the same time, what does he do but gives the husband the letter, and offers her the horses!

Mar. Why, to be sure, I did offer her the horses, and I remember you was even with me, for you deny'd the letter to be yours, and swore I had a design upon her, which my bones paid for.

Cha. Come, Sir George, let's walk round, if you are not engag'd, for I have sent my man upon a little earnest business, and I have ordered him to bring me the answer into the Park.

Mar. Business! and I not know it! Egad, I'll watch him.

Sir Geo. I must beg your pardon, Charles, I am to meet your father.

Cha. My father!

Sir Geo. Ay, and about the oddest bargain, perhaps, you ever heard of; but I'll not impart till I know the success.

Mar. What can his business be with Sir Francis! Now would I give all the world to know it. Why the devil should not one know every man's [Aside. Cha. Prosperity to't, whatever it be: I have private affairs too: over a bottle we'll compare notes.

concerns!

Mar. Charles knows I love a glass as well as any man; I'll make one; shall it be to-night? Adad, I long to know their secrets. [Aside.

Enter WHISper.

Whisp. Sir, sir, Mrs Patch says Isabinda's Spanish father has quite spoil'd the plot, and she cann't meet you in the Park, but he infallibly will go out this afternoon she says: but I must step again to know the hour.

Mar. What did Whisper say now! I shall go stark mad if I'm not let into the secret. [Aside. Cha. Curst misfortune!

Mar. Curst! what's curst, Charles?

Cha. Come along with me, my heart feels pleasure at her name. Sir George, yours; we'll meet at the old place the usual hour.

Sir Geo. Agreed. I think I see Sir Francis yonder. [Exit. Cha. Marplot, you must excuse me; I am engag'd. [Exit. Mar. Engag'd! Egad, I'll engage my life I'll know what your engagement is. [Erit. Mir. [Coming out of a chuir.] Let the chair wait. My servant that dogg'd Sir George said he was in the Park.

Enter PATCH.

Ha! Miss Patch alone! did not you tell me you had contrived a way to bring Isabinda to the Park?

Patch. Oh, madam, your ladyship cann't imagine what a wretched disappointment we have met with! Just as I had fetch'd a suit of my clothes for a disguise, comes my old master into the closet, which is right against her chamber-door: this struck us into a terrible fright-at length I put on a grave face, and ask'd him if he was at leisure for his chocolate? in hopes to draw him out of his hole; but he snapp'd my nose off: No, I shall be busy here these two hours. At which my poor mistress seeing no way of escape, ordered me to wait on your ladyship with the sad relation.

Mir. Unhappy Isabinda! was ever any thing so unaccountable as the humour of Sir Jealous Traffick?

Patch. Oh, madam, it's his living so long in Spain; he vows he'll spend half his estate, but he'll be a parliament-man, on purpose to bring in a bill for women to wear veils, and other odious Spanish customs-He swears it is the height of impudence to have a woman seen bare-fac'd even at church, and scarce believes there's a true begotten child in the city.

Mir. Ha, ha, ha! how the old fool torments himself! Suppose he could introduce his rigid rules-does he think we could not match them in contrivance? No, no; let the tyrant man make what laws he will, if there's a woman under the government, I warrant she finds a way to break Is his mind set upon the Spaniard for his son-in-law still? Patch. Ay, and he expects him by the next

em.

experience, thou wilt never be wise; therefore, give me a hundred, and try thy fortune.

Mir. I knew thy prolific brain would be of singular service to her, or I had not parted with thee to her father.

Patch. But, madam, the report is that you are going to marry your guardian.

Mir. It is necessary such a report should be, Patch.

Patch. But is it true, madam?

Mir. That's not absolutely necessary.

Patch. I thought it was only the old strain, coaxing him still for your own, and railing at all the young fellows about town: in my mind, now, you are as ill plagu'd with your guardian, madam, as my lady is with her father.

Mir. No, I have liberty, wench; that she wants: what would she give now to be in this dishabille in the open air, nay, more, in pursuit of the young fellow she likes? for that's my case I assure you.

Patch. As for that, madam, she's even with you; for tho' she cann't come abroad, we have a way to bring him home in spite of old Argus. Mir. Now, Patch, your opinion of my choice, for here he comes.-Ha! my guardian with him! what can be the meaning of this? I'm sure Sir Francis cann't know me in this dress.-Let's observe 'em. [They withdraw. Enter Sir FRANCIS GRIPE and Sir GEORGE AIRY.

Sir Fran. Verily, Sir George, thou wilt repent throwing away thy money so, for I tell thee sincerely, Miranda, my charge, does not like a young fellow; they are all vicious, and seldom make good husbands: in sober sadness she cannot abide 'em.

Mir. Peeping.] In sober sadness you are mistaken. What can this mean?

Sir Geo. Look ye, Sir Francis, whether she can or cannot abide young fellows is not the business. Will you take the fifty guineas?

Sir Fran. In good truth I will not-for I knew thy father, he was a hearty wary man, and I cannot consent that his son should squander away what be sav'd to no purpose.

Mir. [Peeping.] Now, in the name of wonder, what bargain can he be driving about me for fifty guineas?

Patch. I wish it ben't for the first night's lodging, madam.

Sir Geo. Well, Sir Francis, since you are so conscientious for my father's sake, then permit me the favour gratis.

Mir. [Peeping.] The favour! O' my life, I believe 'tis as you said, Patch.

Sir Fran. No, verily; if thou dost not buy thy

they have a pretty sound, and a very pleasing look-But then, Miranda-but if she should be

cruel

Mir. [Peeping.] As ten to one I shall—
Sir Fran. Ay, do consider on't. He, he, he!
Sir Geo. No, I'll do't.

Patch. Do't! what, whether you will or no, madam!

Sir Geo. Come, to the point; here's the gold; sum up the conditions.

[Sir FRANCIS pulling out a paper.] Mir. [Peeping.] Ay, for Heaven's sake do, for my expectation is on the rack.

Sir Fran. Well, at your peril be it.
Sir Geo. Ay, ay, go on.

Sir Fran. Imprimis, you are to be admitted into my house, in order to move your suit to Miranda, for the space of ten minutes, without let or molestation, provided I remain in the same room. Sir Geo. But out of ear-shot.

Sir Fran. Well, well, I don't desire to hear what you say; ha, ha, ha! in consideration I am to have that purse and a hundred guineas. Sir Geo. Take it- [Gives him the purse. Mir. [Peeping.] So, 'tis well it's no worse; I'll fit you both

Sir Geo. And this agreement is to be performed to-day.

Sir Fran. Ay, ay; the sooner the better. Poor fool! how Miranda and I shall laugh at him!— Well, Sir George, ha, ha, ha! take the last sound of your guineas, ha, ha, ha! [Chinks 'em.] [Exit. Mir. [Peeping.] Sure he does not know I am Miranda.

Sir Geo. A very extraordinary bargain I have made, truly; if she should be really in love with this old cuff now-Psha! that's morally impossible.--But then, what hopes have I to suc ceed? I never spoke to her

Mir. [Peeping.] Say you so? then I am safe. Sir Geo. What tho' my tongue never spoke? my eyes said a thousand things, and my hopes flatter'd me hers answer'd 'em. If I'm luckyif not, it is but a hundred guineas thrown away. [MIRANDA and PATCH come forward. Mir. Upon what, Sir George? Sir Geo. Ha! my incognita-upon a woman, madam.

Mir. They are the worst things you can deal in, and damage the soonest; your very breath destroys 'em, and I fear you'll never see your return, Sir George, ha, ha!

Sir Geo. Were they more brittle than china, and dropped to pieces with a touch, every atom of her I have ventur'd at, if she is but mistress of thy wit, balances ten times the sum.-Pry'thee, let me see thy face.

Mir. By no means; that may spoil your opinion of my sense

Sir Geo. Rather confirm it, madam. Patch. So rob the lady of your gallantry, sir. Sir Geo. No, child, a dish of chocolate in the morning never spoils my dinner: the other lady I design a set meal; so there's no danger.—

Mir. Matrimony! ha, ha, ha! what crimes have you committed against the god of Love, that he should revenge 'em so severely, to stamp husband on your forehead?

Sir Geo. For my folly, in having so often met you here without pursuing the laws of Nature, and exercising her command-But I resolve ere we part now, to know who you are, where you live, what kind of flesh and blood your face is; therefore unmask, and don't put me to the trouble of doing it for you.

Mir. My face is the same flesh and blood with my hand, Sir George, which, if you'll be so rude to provoke

Sir Geo. You'll apply it to my cheek-the ladies favours are always welcome, but I must have that cloud withdrawn. [Tuking hold of her.] Remember you are in the Park, child; and what a terrible thing would it be to lose this pretty white hand?

Mir. And how will it sound in a chocolate house that Sir George Airy rudely pulled off a lady's mask, when he had given her his honour that he never would, directly or indirectly, endeavour to know her till she gave him leave?

Patch. I wish we were safe out.

Sir Geo. But if that lady thinks fit to pursue and meet me at every turn, like some troubled spirit, shall I be blam'd if I enquire into the reality? I would have nothing dissatisfied in a female shape.

Mir. What shall I do? [Pauses. Sir Geo. Ay, pr'ythee consider, for thou shalt find me very much at thy service.

Patch. Suppose, sir, the lady should be in love with you?

Sir Geo. Oh! I'll return the obligation in a

Sir Geo. Well, madam

Mir. I have it-Sir George, 'tis fit you should allow something; if you'll excuse my face, and turn your back, (if you look upon me I shall sink, even mask'd as I am) I will confess why I have engaged you so often, who I am, and where I live.

Sir Geo. Well, to shew you I'm a man of honour, I accept the conditions: let me but once know those, and the face won't be long a secret to me.

Patch. What mean you, madam?
Mir. To get off.

Sir Geo. 'Tis something indecent to turn one's back upon a lady; but you command and I obey. [Turns his back.] Come, madam, begin

Mir. First, then, it was my unhappy lot to see you at Paris, [Draws back a little way, and speaks] at a ball upon a birth-day; your shape and air charm'd my eyes, your wit and complaisance my soul, and from that fatal night I loved you.

[Drawing back. And when you left the place, grief seiz❜d me so, Nor rest my heart, nor sleep my eyes could know; Last I resolved a hazardous point to try, And quit the place in search of liberty. [Exeunt.

Sir Geo. Excellent-I hope she's handsomeWell, now, madam, to the two other things, your name, and where you live--I am a gentleman, and this confession will not be lost upon meNay, pr'ythee don't weep, but go on, for I find my heart melts in thy behalf-Speak quickly, or I shall turn about- Not yet-Poor lady! she expects I should comfort her, and, to do her justice, she has said enough to encourage me. [Turns about.] Ha! gone! the devil! jilted! Why, what a tale has she invented-of Paris, balls, and birth-days!-'Egad, I'd give ten guineas to know who the gipsey is-A curse of my folly! I deserve to lose her.-What woman can forgive a man that turns his back?

The bold and resolute in love and war

To conquer take the right and swiftest way; The boldest lover soonest gains the fair,

As courage makes the rudest force obey : Take no denial, and the dames adore ye; Closely pursue them, and they fall before ye.

[Exit.

SCENE I.

Enter Sir FRANCIS GRIPE and MIRANDA.

Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Mir. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh, I shall die with laughing-the most romantic adventureHa, ha, ha! What does the odious young fop mean A hundred pieces to talk ten minutes with me! ha, ha, ha, ha!

Sir Fran. And I am to be by too, there's the jest: adad, if it had been in private, I should not have car'd to trust the young dog.

Mir. Indeed and indeed but you might, Gardy-Now, methinks, there's nobody handsomer than you: so neat, so clean, so good-humour'd, and so loving

Sir Fran. Pretty rogue, pretty rogue! and so thou shalt find me, if thou dost prefer thy Gardy before these caperers of the age: thou shalt outshine the queen's box on an opera night; thou

shalt be the envy of the ring, (for I will carry thee to Hyde Park) and thy equipage shall surpass thewhat d'ye call 'em ambassador's. Mir. Nay, I am sure the discreet part of my sex will envy me more for the inside furniture, when you are in it, than my outside equipage.

Sir Fran. A cunning baggage, i'faith, thou art, and a wise one too! and to shew thee that thou hast not chose amiss, I'll this moment disinherit my son, and settle my whole estate upon thee. Mir. There's an old rogue now. [Aside.] No, Gardy, would not have your name to be so black in the world-You know my father's will runs, that I am not possess my estate, without your consent, till I am five-and-twenty; you shall only abate the odd seven years, and make me mistress of my estate to-day, and I'll make you master of my person to-morrow.

Sir Fran. Humph! that may not be safe—No, Chargy, I'll settle it upon thee for pin-money, and that will be every bit as well, thou know'st.

Mir. Unconscionable old wretch! bribe me with my own money!-Which way shall I get out of his hands. [Aside. Sir Fran. Well, what art thou thinking on, my dear, ha? How to banter Sir George?

Mir. I must not pretend to banter; he knows my tongue too well. [Aside.] No, Gardy, I have thought of a way will confound him more than all I could say, if I should talk to him seven

years.

Sir Fran. How's that? Oh! I'm transported, I'm ravish'd, I'm mad

Mir. It would make you mad if you knew all. [Aside.] I'll not answer him a word, but be =dumb to all he says.

Sir Fran. Dumb! good; ha, ha, ha! Excel= lent! ha, ha, ha, ha! I think I have you now, Sir George. Dumb! he'll go distracted-well, she's the wittiest rogue.-Ha, ha! dumb! I cann't but laugh, ha, ha! to think how damn'd mad he'll be when he finds he has given his money away for a dumb show; ha, ha, ha!

Mir. Nay, Gardy, if he did but know my thoughts of him, it would make him ten times madder; ha, ha, ha, ha!

Sir Fran. Ay, so it would, Chargy, to hold him in such derision, to scorn to answer him, to be dumb! ha, ha, ha!

Enter CHARLES.

Sir Fran. How now, sirrah! who let you in? Cha. My necessities, sir.

of guineas, would be more material. Your son may have business with you: I'll retire.

Sir Fran. I guess his business, but I'll dispatch him; I expect the knight every minute: you'll be in readiness?

Mir. Certainly; my expectation is more upon the wing than yours, old gentleman. [Exit. Sir Fran. Well, sir.

Cha. Nay, it is very ill, sir; my circumstances are, I'm sure.

Sir Fran. And what's that to me, sir? your management should have made them better. Cha. If you please to entrust me with the management of my estate, I shall endeavour it, sir. Sir Fran. What, to set upon a card, and buy a lady's favour at the price of a thousand pieces; to rig out an equipage for a wench, or by your carelessness to enrich your steward, to fine for sheriff, or put up for a parliament man?

Cha. I hope I should not spend it this way: however, I ask only for what my uncle left me; yours you may dispose of as you please, sir.

Sir Fran. That I shall, out of your reach, I assure you, sir. Adad, these young fellows think old men get estates for nothing but them to squander away in dicing, wenching, drinking, dressing, and so forth.

Cha. I think I was born a gentleman, sir ; I'm sure my uncle bred me like one.

Sir Fran. From which you would infer, sir, that gaming, whoring, and the pox are requisites for a gentleman.

Cha. Monstrous! when I would ask him only for a support, he falls into these unmannerly reproaches. I must, though against my will, employ invention, and by stratagem relieve myself.

[Aside.

Sir Fran. Sirrah, what is it you mutter, sirrah? ha! [Holds up his cane.] I say you sha'n't have a groat out of my hands till I please--and may be I'll never please; and what's that to you ?

Cha. Nay, to be robb❜d, or have one's throat cut, is not much

Sir Frun. What's that, sirrah? would you rob me or cut my throat, ye rogue?

Cha. Heaven forbid, sir !—I said no such thing. Sir Fran. Mercy on me! what a plague it is to have a son of one-and-twenty, who wants to elbow one out of one's life, to edge himself into the estate!

Enter MARPLOT.

Sir Fran. Then, sirrah, how durst you rudely thrust that upon your father, which nobody else would admit?

Cha. Sure the name of a son is a sufficient plea. I ask this lady's pardon if I have intruded. Sir Fran. Ay, ay, ask her pardon and her blessing too, if you expect any thing from me.

Mir. I believe yours, Sir Francis, in a purse

rowful countenance of thine the old man's fist is as close as his strong box-But I'll help thee.

Sir Fran. So! here's another extravagant coxcomb, that will spend his fortune before he comes to't; but he shall pay swinging interest, and so let the fool go on.-Well, what, does necessity bring you too, sir?

Mar. You have hit it, guardian- -I want a hundred pounds.