made one in our conversationi. But, Mr Bellamy, I saw a servant, I hope no engagement, for you two positively shall dine with me: I have the finest macaroni in life. Oblige me so far.

Bel. Sir, your servant; what say you, Frankly? J. Meg. Pho! pox! Charles, you shall go. My aunts think you begin to neglect them; and old maids, you know, are the most jealous creatures in life.

Frank. Ranger swears they cann't be maids, they are so good-natured. Well, I agree, on condition I may eat what I please, and go away just when I will. J. Meg. Ay, ay, you shall do just what you will. But how shall we do? my post-chaise won't carry us all.

Frank. My chariot is here; and I will conduct Mr Bellamy.

Bel. Mr Meggot, I beg pardon; I cann't possibly dine out of town; I have an engagement early in the evening.

at three.

J. eg. Out of town! No, my dear, I live just by. I see one of the dilletanti I would not miss speaking to for the universe. And so I expect you [Exit. Frank. Ha, ha, ha! and so you thought you had at least fifty miles to go post for a spoonful of macaroni.

Bel. I suppose then he is just come out of the ( country.

Frank. Nor that neither. I would venture a wa ger, from his own house hither, or to an auction or two of old dirty pictures, is the utmost of his travels to-day; or he may have been in pursuit, perhaps, of a new cargo of Venetian tooth-picks.

Bel. A special acquaintance I have made to-day. Frank. For all this, Bellamy, he has a heart wor thy your friendship. He spends his estate freely, and you cannot oblige him more, than by shewing him how he can be of service to you.

Bel. Now you say something. It is the heart, Frankly, I value in a man.

Frank. Right-and there is a heart even in a woman's breast that is worth the purchase, or my judgment has deceived me. Dear Bellamy, I know your concern for me; see her first, and then blame me if you can.

Bel. So far from blaming you, Charles, that if my endeavours can be serviceable, I will beat the bushes with you.

Frank. That, I am afraid, will not do. For you know less of her than I : but if in your walks you meet a finer woman than ordinary, let her not escape till I have seen her. Wheresoe'er she is, she cannot long lie hid.

[Exeunt

SCENE I.-St James's Park.

LAND.

Jac. Ay, ay, we both stand condemned out of

our own mouths.

Cla. Why, I cannot but own, I never had a thought of any man that troubled me but him.

Mrs Str. Then I dare swear, by this time, you heartily repent your leaving Bath so soon.

Cla. Indeed you are mistaken, I have not had one scruple since.

Jac. Why, what one inducement can he have ever to think of you again?

Cla. Oh, the greatest of all inducements, curiosity let me assure you, a woman's surest hold over a man is to keep him in uncertainty. As soon as ever you put him out of doubt, you put him out of your power: but when once a woman has awaked his curiosity, she may lead him a dance of many a troublesome mile, without the least fear of losing him at last.

Jac. Now do I heartily wish he may have spirit enough to follow, and use you as you deserve.Such a spirit, with but a little knowledge of our sex, might put that heart of yours into a strange flutter.

Cla. I care not how soon. I long to meet with such a fellow. Our modern beaux are such joint babies in love, they have no feeling; they are entirely insensible either of pain or pleasure, but from their own dear persons; and accordingly as we

flatter or affront their beauty, they admire or for sake ours: they are not worthy even of our dis much ill-nature merely thrown away. But the man of sense, who values himself upon his high abilities; or the man of wit, who thinks a woman beneath his conversation-to see such the subjects of our power, the slaves of our frowns and smiles, is glorious indeed!

Mrs Str. No man of sense, or wit either, if he be truly so, ever did, or ever can, think a woman of merit beneath his wisdom to converse with.

Jac. Nor will such a woman value herself upon making such a lover uneasy.

Cla. Amazing! Why, every woman can give ease. You cannot be in earnest.

Mrs Str. I can assure you she is, and has put in practice the doctrine she has been teaching. Cla. Impossible! Who ever heard the name of love mentioned withont an idea of torment? But pray let us hear.

of.

Jac. Nay, there is nothing to hear that I know

Cla. So I suspected, indeed. The novel is not likely to be long, when the lady is so well prepa red for the denouement.

Jac. The novel, as you call it, is not so short is you may imagine. I and my spark have been long acquainted: as he was continually with my father, I soon perceived that he loved me; and the mar ner of his expressing that love was what pleased

and won me most.

Cla. Well: and how was it? the old bait, flattery, dear flattery, I warrant ye.

Jac. No, indeed; I had not the pleasure of hearing my person, wit, and beauty painted out with forced praises; but I had a more sensible delight, in perceiving the drift of his whole behaviour was to make every hour of my time pass away agreeably.

Cla. The rustic! what, did he never say a handsome thing of your person?

Mrs Str. He did, it seems, what pleased her better; he flattered her good sense, as much as a less cunning lover would have done her beauty.

Cla. On my conscience you are well matched. Jac. So well, that if my guardian denies me happiness (and this evening he is to pass his final sentence,) nothing is left but to break my prison, and fly into my lover's arms for safety.

Cla. Hey-day! O' my conscience thou art a brave girl. Thou art the very first prude that ever had honesty enough to avow her passion for a man.

Jac. And thou art the first finished coquette who ever had any honesty at all.

Mrs Str. Come, come; you are both too good or either of those characters.

Cla. And my dear Mrs Strictland here is the irst young married woman of spirit who has an ll-natured fellow for a husband, and never once hinks of using him as he deserves-Good Heaen! If I had such a husband

Mrs Str. You would be just as unhappy as I am! Cla. But come now, confess-do not you long o be a widow?

Mrs Str. Would I were any thing but what I am. Cla. Then go the nearest way about it. I'd reak that stout heart of his in less than a fort

Jac. Come, Mrs Strictland, we shall but just ave time to get home before Mr Bellamy comes. Mrs Str. Let us return then to our common rison. You must forgive my ill-nature, Jacintha, fI almost wish Mr Strictland may refuse to join our hand where your heart is given.

Jac. Lord, madam, what do you mean? Mrs Str. Self-interest only, child. Methinks our company in the country would soften all my orrows, and I could bear them patiently.

Re-enter CLARINDA,

Cla. Dear Mrs Strictland-I am so confused, nd so out of breath

Mrs Str. Why, what's the matter?
Jac. I protest you fright me.

Cla. Oh! I have no time to recover myself, I am so frightened, and so pleased. In short then, the dear man is here.

Mrs Str. Here-Lord!-Where?

Cla. I met him this instant; I saw him at a distance, turned short, and ran hither directly. Let us go home. I tell you he follows me.

Mrs Str. Why, had you not better stay, and let him speak to you?

Cla. Ay!-But then-he won't know where I live, without my telling him.

Mrs Str. Come then. Ha, ha, ha!
Jac. Ay, poor Clarinda!—Allons donc. [Exeunt.
Enter FRANKLY.

Frank. Sure that must be she! her shape and easy air cannot be so exactly copied by another. Now, you young rogue, Cupid, guide me directly to her, as you would the surest arrow in your quiver.

[Exit.

SCENE III.-Changes to an Apartment in Mr STRICTLAND's House.

Enter CLARINDA, FRANKLY following her. Frank. I hope, madam, you will excuse the boldness of this intrusion, since it is owing to your own behaviour that I am forced to it,

Cla. To my behaviour, sir?

Frank. You cannot but remember me at Bath, madam, where I so lately had the favour of your hand

Cla. I do remember, sir, but I little expected any wrong interpretation of my behaviour from one who had so much the appearance of a gentleman.

Frank. What I saw of your behaviour was so just, it would admit of no misrepresentation. I only feared, whatever reason you had to conceal your name from me at Bath, you might have the same to do it now; and though my happiness was

so nearly concerned, I rather chose to venture thus abruptly after you, than be impertinently inquisi

tive.

Cla. Sir, there seems to be so much civility in your rudeness, that I can easily forgive it, though I don't see how your happiness is at all concerned. Frank. No, madam! I believe you are the only lady, who could, with the qualifications you are mistress of, be insensible of the power they give you over the happiness of our sex.

Cla. How vain should we women be, if you gentlemen were but wise! If you did not all of you say the same things to every woman, we should certainly be foolish enough to believe some of you were in earnest.

Frank. Could you have the least sense of what I feel whilst I am speaking, you would know me to be in earnest, and what I say to be the dictates of a heart that admires you; may I not say that--Cla. Sir, this is carrying the

Frank. When I danced with you at Bath, I was charmed with your whole behaviour, and felt the same tender admiration! but my hope of seeing you afterwards, kept in my passion till a more proper time should offer. You cannot therefore blame me now, if, after having lost you once, I do not suffer an inexcusable modesty to prevent my making use of this second opportunity.

Cla. This behaviour, sir, is so different from the gaiety of your conversation then, that I am at a loss how to answer you.

|

Frank. There is nothing, madam, which could take off from the gaiety with which your presence inspires every heart, but the fear of losing you. How can I be otherwise than as I am, when I know not but you may leave London as abruptly as you did Bath?

feared from Mr Strictland's temper; an utter de nial. I know hot why, but he really grows more and more ill-natured,

Cla. Well; now do I heartily wish my affairs were in his power a little, that I might have a few difficulties to surmount: I love difficulties; and yet, I don't know-it is as well as it is. Mrs Str. Ha, ha, ha! Come, the tea waits. [Exeunt.

Enter Mr STRICTLAND.

Str. These doings in my house distract me. I met a fine gentleman: when I enquired who be was, why, he came to Clarinda. I met a footman too, and he came to Clarinda. I shall not be easy till she is decamped. My wife had the character of a virtuous woman--and they have not been long acquainted: but then they were by themselves at Bath-That hurts-that hurts-they must be watched, they must; I know them, I know all their wiles, and the best of them are but hypocrites-Ha!-[LUCETTA passes over the stage. Suppose I bribe the maid ? she is of their council, the manager of their secrets; it shall be so; mo ney will do it, and I shall know all that passes Lucetta!

Luc. Sir.
Str. Lucetta!

Re-enter Lucetta.

Luc. Sir.-If he should suspect, and seard me now, I'm undone.

Str. She is a sly girl, and may be service able. [Aside.] Lucetta, you are a good girl, have an honest face. I like it. It looks as if t

carried no deceit in it-Yet, if she should be false [Asia

she can do me most harm.

Luc. Pray, sir, speak out. Str. [Aside.] No, she is a woman, and it i the highest imprudence to trust her.

Luc. I am not able to understand you. Str. I am glad of it. I would not have you understand me.

Luc. Then what did you call me for?-If he should be in love with my face, it would be rare sport. [dside Str. Tester, ay, Tester is the proper person [Aside.] Lucetta, tell Tester I want him.

Luc. Yes, sir. Mighty odd, this! It gives me time, however, to send Buckle with this letter to his master. [Aside. Exit

Str. Could I but be once well satisfied that my wife had really finished me, I believe I should be as quiet as if I were sure to the contrary: but whilst I am in doubt, I am miserable.

Enter TESTER.

Test. Does your honour please to want me? Str. Ay, Tester-I need not fear. The ho nesty of his service, and the goodness of his look, make me secure. I will trust him. [Aside] Tes ter, I think I have been a tolerable good master to you.

Test. Yes, sir,-very tolerable.

Str. I like his simplicity well. It promises,

Str. But will not his simplicity expose him the more to Lucetta's cunning? Yes, yes; she will worm the secret out of him. I had better trust her with it at once. So-I will. [Aside.] Tester, go, send Lucetta hither.

Test. Yes, sir.Here she is.

Re-enter LUCETTA.

Lucetta, my master wants you.
Str. Get you down, Tester.
Test. Yes, sir.

[Exit.

Luc. If you want me, sir, I beg you would make haste, for I have a thousand things to do. Str. Well, well; what I have to say will not take up much time, could I but persuade you to be honest.

Luc. Why, sir, I hope you don't suspect my honesty?

Str. Well, well; I believe you honest. [Shuts the door. Luc. What can be at the bottom of all this? [Aside. Str. So; we cannot be too private. Come hither, hussy; nearer yet.

Luc. Lord, sir! You are not going to be rude. I vow I will call out.

Frank. Who should it be, buther name to-morrow,

-I shall know [Sings and dances. J. Meg. What is the matter, ho? Is the man mad?

Frank. Even so, gentlemen; as mad as love and joy can make me.

Bel. But inform us whence this joy proceeds. Frank. Joy! joy! my lads! She's found! my Perdita! my charmer!

J. Meg. 'Egad! her charms have bewitch'd the man, I think- -But who is she?

Bel. Come, come, tell us, who is this wonder?
Frank. But will you say nothing?
Bel. Nothing, as I live.

Frank. Nor you?

J. Meg. I'll be as silent as the grave Frank. With a tomb-stone upon it, to tell every one whose dust it carries.

J. Meg. I'll be as secret as a debauched prudeFrank. Whose sanctity every one suspects.Jack, Jack, 'tis not in thy nature; keeping a secret is worse to thee than keeping thy accounts. But, to leave fooling, listen to me both, that I may whisper it into your ears, that echo may not catch the sinking sound- -I cannot tell who she is, faith-Tol de rol, lol

J. Meg. Mad! mad! very mad!

Frank. All I know of her is, that she is a charming woman, and has given me liberty to visit her again-Bellamy, 'tis she, the lovely she. [Aside. Bel. So I did suppose. [To FRANKLY.

J. Meg. Poor Charles! for Heaven's sake, Mr Bellamy, persuade him to go to his chamber, whilst I prepare every thing for you at home. Adieu. [Aside to BELLAMY.] B'ye Charles; ha, ha! [Exit.

SCENE IV.-The Piazza, Covent Garden.

Enter BELLAMY and JACK MEGGOT. Bel. Nay, nay, I would not put your family into any confusion.

J. Meg. None in life, my dear, I assure you. I will go and order every thing this instant for her reception.

Bel. You are too obliging, sir; but you need not be in this hurry, for I am in no certainty when I shall trouble you; I only know that my Jacintha has taken such a resolution.

J. Meg. Therefore we should be prepared; for when once a lady has such a resolution in her head, she is upon the rack till she executes it. 'Foregad, Mr Bellamy, this must be a girl of

fire.

Enter FRANKLY.

Frank. Buxom and lively as the bounding doe -Fair as painting can express, or youthful poets fancy when they love--Tol, de rol, lol!

[Singing and dancing. Bel. Who is this you talk thus rapturously of?

Frank. Oh, love! thou art a gift worthy of a god, indeed! Dear Bellamy, nothing now could add to my pleasure, but to see my friend as deep in love as I am.

Bel. I shew my heart is capable of love, by the friendship it bears to you.

Frank. The light of friendship looks but dim before the brighter flame of love: love is the spring of cheerfulness and joy. Why, how dull and phlegmatic do you shew to me now? whilst I am all life, light as feather'd Mercury-You, dull and cold as earth and water; I, light and warm as air and fire. These are the only elements in love's world! Why, Bellamy, for shame! get thee a mistress, and be sociable.

Bel. Frankly, I am now going to

Frank. Why that face now? Your humble servant, sir. My flood of joy shall not be stopp'd by your melancholy fits, I assure you. [Going.

What

Bel. Stay, Frankly, I beg you stay. would you say now if I really were in love? Frank. Why, faith, thou hast such romantic notions of sense and honour, that I know not what to say.

Bel. To confess the truth then, I am in love. Frank. And do you confess it as if it were a sin? Proclaim it aloud; glory in it; boast of it as your greatest virtue. Swear it with a lover's oath, and I will believe you.

love

Frank. Well said!

Bel. By all that's tender, amiable, and soft in

woman

Frank. Bravo!

Bel. I swear, I am as true an enamorato as eyer tagg'd rhyme.

Fran. And art thou then thoroughly in love? Come to my arms thou dear companion of my joys[They embrace.

Enter RANGER.

sand pounds to her fortune. Ran. The devil she has !

Bel. And never plays at cards. Ran. Nor does any one thing like any woman, I suppose.

Frank. Not so, I hope, neither.

other

Bel. Oh, Frankly, Ranger, I never felt such ease before! the secret's out, and you don't langh

at me.

Frank. Laugh at thee, for loving a woman with thirty thousand pounds! thou art a most unac countable fellow.

Ran. How the devil could he work her up to

Bel. Pshaw! Ranger here?

Ran. Yes, Ranger is here, and perhaps does not come so impertinently as you may imagine. Faith! I think I have the knack of finding out secrets. Nay, never look so queer-Here is a letter, Mr Bellamy, that seems to promise you better diversion than your hugging one another. Bel. What do you mean?

Ran. Do you deal much in these paper tokens? Bel. Oh, the dear kind creature; it is from herself. [To FRANKLY. Ran. What, is it a pair of laced shoes she wants or have the boys broke her windows? Bel. Hold your profane tongue!

Frank. Nay, pr'ythee, Bellamy, don't keep it to yourself, as if her whole affections were contained in those few lines.

Run. Pr'ythee, let him alone to his silent raptures. But it is as I always said-your grave men ever are the greatest whoremasters.

Bel. I cannot be disobliged now, say what you will. But how came this into your hands?

Ran. Your servant Buckle and I changed com. missions; he went on my errand, and I came on his.

Bel. 'Sdeath! I want him this very instant. Ran. He will be here presently; but I demand to know what I have brought you.

Frank. Av, ay! out with it! you know we never blab, and may be of service.

Bel Twelve o'clock! oh, the dear hour! Ran. Why, it is a pretty convenient time, indeed.

Bel. By all that's happy, she promises in this letter here to leave her guardian this very night -and run away with me.

Run. How is this?

done it. But I know not how-there is a de gree of assurance in you modest gentlemen, which we impudent fellows never can come up to.

Bel. Oh! your servant, good sir. You should not abuse me now, Ranger, but do all you can to assist me.

Ran. Why, look ye, Bellamy, I am a damnable unlucky fellow, and so will have nothing to do in this affair: I'll take care to be out of the way, so as to do you no harm; that's all I can answer for; and so-success attend you. [Going.] I cannot leave you quite to yourself neither; for if this should prove a round-house affair, as I make no doubt it will, I believe I may have more interest there than you; and so, sir, you may hear of me [Whispers.

at

Bel. For shame, Ranger: the most noted ga ming-house in town.

Ran. Forgive me this once, my boy. I must go, faith, to pay a debt of honour to some of the greatest rascals in town. [Exit. Frank. But where do you design to lodge her? Bel. At Mr Meggot's-He is already gone to prepare for her reception.

Frank. The properest place in the world: his aunts will entertain her with honour.

Bel. And the newness of his acquaintance will prevent its being suspected. Frankly, give me your hand: this is a very critical time.

Frank. Pho! none of your musty reflections now! When a man is in love, to the very brink of matrimony, what the devil has he to do with Plutarch and Seneca? Here is your servant, with a face full of business-I'll leave you togetherI shall be at the King's Arms, where, if you want my assistance, you may find me.

Enter BUCKLE.

Bel. So, Buckle, you seem to have

[Exit.

hands your full. Buc. Not fuller than my head, sir, I promise you. You have had your letter, I hope.

Bel. Yes, and in it she refers me to you for my instructions.

Buc. Why the affair stands thus.-As Mr Strictland sees the door lock'd and barred every night himself, and takes the key up with him, is impossible for us to escape any way but through the window; for which purpose I have a ladder of ropes.