don't be alarmed- There can be no danger, while we have love and darkness to befriend us. Tuke. Bless me, how my heart beats! Daf. Poor soul! what a fright it is in!You must not give way to these alarms-Were you as well convinced of my honour, as I am of your charms, you would have nothing to fear[Squeezes her hand. [Aside. Aside. Ara. Upon my word!— Mrs. Damp. So, so, so! Tuke. Hold, sir; you must take no liberties— But, if you have the least feeling for an unhappy woman, urged by her passion to this imprudent step, assist me forgive me-let me go. Daf. Can you doubt my honour? Can you doubt my love? What assurances can I give you to abate your fears? Mrs. Dot. Very slender ones, I can assure her. [Aside. Tuke. I deserve to suffer all I feel- -For what, but the most blinded passion, could induce me to declare myself to one, whose amours and infidelities, are the common topic of conversation! Daf. Flattering creature! [Aside.]—May I never know your dear name, see your charming face, touch your soft hand, or hear your sweet voice, if I am not more sincere in my affection for this little finger, than for all the sex besides. [The Ladies seem astonished. Tuke. Except the widow Damply. Daf. She! Do you know her, madam? Tuke. I have not that honour. Daf. I thought so-Did you never see her, madam, nodding and gogling in her old fashioned heavy chariot, drawn by a pair of lean hackney horses, with a fat blackamoor footman behind, in a scanty livery, red greasy stockings, and a dirty turban? [The Widow seems disordered. Tuke. All which may be only a foil to her beauty. [Sighs. Daf. Beauty! don't sigh, madam; she is past forty, wears a wig, and has lost two of her fore teeth. And, then, she has so long a beard upon her upper lip, and takes so much Spanish snuff, that she looks for all the world, like the Great Mogul in petticoats; ha, ha Mrs. Dam. What falsehood and ingratitude! [Aside. Tuke. Could I descend to the slander of the town, there is a married lady Daf. Poor Mrs. Dotterel, you mean? Mrs. Dot. Why am I to be mentioned!I have nothing to do Mrs. Damp. Nay, nay; you must have your share of the panegyric. Tuke. She is young, and has wit. Daf. She's an idiot, madam; and as fools are generally loving, she has forgot all her obligations to old Mr. Dotterel, who married her without a petticoat; and now seizes upon every young fellow she can lay her hands upon-she has spoiled me three suits of clothes, with tearing the flaps and sleeves. Ha, ha, ha! Mrs. Dot. Monster of iniquity! Daf. She has even stormed me in my own house; but, with all my faults, madam, you'll never find me over-fond of age, or ignorance. Mrs. Damp. I could tear him to pieces! Mrs. Dot. I will tear him to pieces! Ara. Be quiet, and we'll all tear him to pieces. Tuke. He has swallowed the hook, and can't [Aside. escape. Daf. What do you say, madam? Daf. Fond creature! [Aside.] I know there are a thousand stories about me: You have heard, too, of Lady Fanny Pewit, I suppose? Don't be alarmed. Tuke. I can't help it, sir. She is a fine woman, and a woman of quality. Daf. A fine woman, perhaps, for a woman of quality-but she is an absolute old maid, madam, almost as thick as she is long-middle-aged, homely, and wanton! That's her character. Lady Pew. Then, there is no sincerity in man. [Going. Ara. Positively, you shan't stir. -She is now upon her last legs. If she does not run away with some foolish gentleman this winter, she'll return into the country and marry her footman, ha, ha, ha! Lady Pew. My footman shall break his bones, I can tell him that. Daf. Hush, madam! I protest I thought I heard a voice-I wonder they don't come. [Aside. Tuke. 'Twas only I, Mr. Daffodil-I was murmuring to you. [Sighs. Duf. Pretty murmurer!-'Egad, if they don't come soon, the lady will grow fond. [Aside. Tuke. But, among your conquests, Mr. Daffodil, you forgot Miss Sophy Sprightly. Daf. And her cousin Arabella.-I was coming to them; poor, silly, good-natured, loving fools; I made my addresses to one through pique, and the other for pity; that was all. Tuke. O, that I could believe you! Daf. Don't be uneasy! I'll tell you how it was, madam-You must know, there is a silly, selfsufficient fellow, one Tukely Tuke. So, so.-[Aside.]-I know him a little. Daf. I am sorry for it-The less you know of him, the better; the fellow pretended to look fierce at me, for which I resolved to have his mistress: So I threw in my line, and without much trouble, hooked her. Her poor cousin, too, nibbled at the bait, and was caught. So I have had my revenge upon Tukely, and now I shall willingly resign poor Sophy, and throw him in her cousin, for a make-weight, ha, ha, ha! Lady Pew. This is some comfort, at least. Ara. Your ladyship is better than you was. [Noise without. Tuke. I vow, I hear a noise.-What shall we do? It comes this way. Daf. They can't see us, my dear.--I wish my friends would come. [Aside.] Don't whisper, or breathe. Enter SOPHIA, in a surtout, and slouched hat. Daf. [Running to them with his sword drawn.] O, my friends, I have been wishing for you this Soph. If I could but catch her at her pranks- half hour! I have been set upon by a dozen felshe certainly must be this way-for the chair is lows-They have all made their escape, but this waiting at the end of Rosamond's pond-I have-My arm is quite dead-I have been at cart thrown one of her chairman into it-and, if I and tierce with them all, for near a quarter of an could but catch her hour. Tuke. O, sir! my passion has undone me-I am discoved; it is my husband, Sir George, and he is looking for me! Daf. The devil it is! Why, then, madam, the best way will be for you to go to him-and let me sneak off the other way. Tuke. Go to him, sir! What can I say to him? Daf. Any thing, madam-Say you had the vapours, and wanted air. Tuke. Lord, sir! he is the most passionate of mortals; and I am afraid he is in liquor, too; and, than, he is mad! Soph. If I could but catch her [Looking about. Daf. For your sake, madam, I'll make the best of my way home[Going. Tuke. What! would you leave me to the fury of an enraged husband!-Is that your affection! [Holds him. Soph. If I could but catch her-Ha! what's that? I saw something move in the dark—the point of my sword shall tickle it out, whatever it is. [Draws, and goes towards them. Tuke. For Heaven's sake draw, and fight him, while I make my escape! Daf. Fight him! 'twould be cowardly to fight in the dark, and with a drunken man-I'll call the sentry. Tuke. And expose us to the world? Daf. I would to Heaven we were! [Aside. He comes forward.] Let me go, madam; you pinch me to the bone. on. Tuke. He won't know us-I have my mask Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! Soph. What, is the devil and his imps playing at blind man's buff? Ay, ay; here he is, indeed; Satan himself, dressed like a fine gentleman-Come, Mr. Devil, out with your pitchfork, and let us take a thrust or two. Daf. You mistake me, sir, I am not the person; indeed, I am not; I know nothing of your wife, Sir George; and if you knew how little I care for the whole sex, you would not be so furious with an innocent man. Soph. Who are you, then? And what are you doing with that blackamoor lady there-dancing a saraband with a pair of castanets? Speak, sir! Daf. Pray, forbear, sir; here's company coming that will satisfy you in every thing--Hallo, hallo-Here, here, here! [Hallo's faintly.] my lord, my lord!-Spinner-Dizzy-Hallo! Enter LORD RACKET, SIR TANTIVY, SPINNER, and Dizzy, with torches. Lord Rac. What's the matter here?-Who calls for help? Soph. In buckram, my lord!—He was got with my property here, and I would have chastised him for it, if your coming had not prevented it. Daf. Let us throw the rascal into Rosamond's pond. Lord Rac. Come, sir, can you swim? [All going up. TUKELY snatches SOPHIA'S sword, and she runs behind him. Tuke. I'll defend you, my dear!-What, would you murder a man, and lie with his wife, too?→ Oh! you are a wicked gentleman, Mr. Daffodil. [Attacks DAFFODIL. Daf. Why, the devil's in the woman, I think! All the Ladies advance from behind. Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! your humble servant, Mr. Daffodil-ha, ha, ha! [Curtsying. Daf. This is all enchantment! Lady Pew. No, sir, the enchantment is broke; and the old maid, sir, homely and wanton, before she retires into the country, has the satisfaction of knowing, that the agreeable Mr. Daffodil is a much more contemptible mortal, than the footman which his goodness has been pleased to marry her to. Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! Mrs. Damp. Would Mr. Daffodil please to have a pinch of Spanish snuff out of the great mogul's box? 'Tis the best thing in the world for low spirits. [Offers her box. Ladies. Ha, ha, ha! Mrs. Dot. If a fool may not be permitted to speak, Mr. Daffodil, let her at least be permitted to laugh at so fine a gentleman-Ha, ha, ha! Ara. Were you as sensible of shame, as you are of fear, the sight of me, whom you loved for pity, would be revenge sufficient-But I can forgive your baseness to me, much easier than I can myself, for my behaviour to this happy couple. Daf. Who the devil are they? Ara. The Marquis and Marchioness of Maçaroni, ladies-Ha, ha, ha! Soph. Ha! Mio Carrissimo Amico, il Signior Daffodillo ! Daf. How! Tukely and Sophia!—If I don't wake soon, I shall wish never to wake again! Soph. Who bids fairest now for Rosamond's pond? Lord Rac. What, in the name of wonder, is all this business? I don't understand it. Diz. Nor I neither; but 'tis very drole, faith! Tuke. The mystery will clear in a moment. Daf. Don't give yourself any trouble, Mr. Tukely; things are pretty clear as they areThe night's cool, and my cousin Dizzy, here, is an invalid-If you please, another time, when there is less company.-[Ladies laugh.]—The ladies are pleased to be merry, and you are pleased 1 to be a little angry; and so, for the sake of tran- | viour to me, as it has hastened and confirmed my quillity, I'll go to the opera. happiness here. [To SOPHIA.]-But, as a friend to you ladies, I shall insist upon his making you ample satisfaction: However, this benefit will arise, that you will hereafter equally detest and shun these destroyers of your reputation. [DAFFODIL Sneaks out by degrees. Lord Rac. This is a fine blow up, indeed!— Ladies, your humble servant-Hallo! Daffodil. [Exit. Diz. I'll lay you a hundred, that my cousin never intrigues again-George! George! Don't run-hugh-hughExit. Tuke. As my satisfaction is complete, I have none to ask of Mr. Daffodil. I forgive his beha In you coquettry is a loss of fame; Sir Cha. Now, nephew, consider once again, before I open the matter to my neighbour Heartly, what I am going to undertake for you.-Why don't you speak? Young Cha. Is it proper and decent, uncle? Sir Cha, Psha! don't be a fool, but answer me-Don't you flatter yourself?-What assurance have you, that this young lady, my friend's ward, has a liking to you? The young fellows of this age are all coxcombs; and, I am afraid, you are no exception to the general rule. Young Cla. Thank you, uncle; but, may I this instant be struck old and peevish, if I would put you upon a false scent to expose you, for all the fine women in Christendom. I assure you again and again, and you may take my word, uncle, that Miss Harriet has no kind of aversion to your nephew and most humble servant. Sir Cha. Ay, ay, vanity, vanity! but I never take a young fellow's word about women; they'll lie as fast, and with as little conscience, as the Brussels Gazette. Produce your proofs. Young Cla. Can't your eyes see them, uncle, without urging me to the indelicacy of repeating them? Sir Cha. Why, I see nothing but a fool's head and a fool's coat, supported by a pair of most unpromising legs. Have you no better proofs. Young Cla. Yes, I have, my good infidel uncle, half a hundred. Sir Cha. Out with them, then. Young Cla. First, then-Whenever I see her, she never looks at me :-That's a sign of love. Whenever I speak to her, she never answers me: Another sign of love. And whenever I speak to any body else, she seems to be perfectly easy: That's a certain sign of love. Sir Cha, The devil it is! Young Clu. When I am with her she is always grave; and the moment I get up to leave her the poor thing begins: why will you leave me, Mr. Clackit? can't you sacrifice a few moments to my bashfulness?-Stay, you agreeable runaway, stay; I shall soon overcome the fears your presence gives me.'-I could say more) But a man of honour, un cleSir Cha. What, and has she said all these things to you? Young Cla. O yes, and ten times more--with her eyes. Sir Cha. With her eyes?-Eyes are very equivocal, Jack. However if the young lady has any liking to you, Mr. Heartly is too much a man of the world, and too much my friend, to oppose the match; so do you walk into the garden, and I will open the matter to him. Young Cla. Is there any objection to my staying, uncle? the business will be soon ended -you will propose the match; he will give his consent, I shall give mine; miss is sent for and l'affair est fait. [Snapping his fingers. Sir Cha. And so you think that a young beautiful heiress, with forty thousand pounds, is to be had with a scrap of French, and a snap of your finger? pr'ythee get away, and don't provoke me. Young Cla. Nay, but my dear uncleSir Cha. Nay, but my impertinent nephew, either retire, or I'll throw up the game. [Putting him out. Young Cla. Well, well, I am gone, uncle.When you come to the point, I shall be ready to make my appearance.-Bon voyage! [Exit. Sir Cha. The devil's in these young fellows, I think! -We send them abroad to cure their sheepishness, and they get above proof the other way. see. Sir Chu. Why don't you marry, neighbour? A good wife wou'd do well for you. Heart. For me! you are pleased to be merry, sir Charles Sir Cha. No faith, I am serious; and had I a daughter to recommend to you, you should say me nay more than once, I assure you, neighbour Heartly, before I would quit you. Heart. I am much obliged to you. Sir Cha. But, indeed you are a little too much of the philosopher, to think of being troubled with women and their concerns. Heart. I beg your pardon, Sir CharlesThough there are many who call themselves philosophers, that live single, and, perhaps, are in the right of it, yet, I cannot think that marriage is at all inconsistent with true philosophy. It -A wise man will resolve to live like the rest of the world, with this only difference, that he is neither a slave to passions nor events. is not because I have a little philosophy, but because I am on the wrong side of forty, Sir Charles, that I desire to be excused. Sir Cha. As you please, sir; and now, to my business. You have no objection, I suppose, to tie up your ward, Miss Harriet, though you have slipped the collar yourself? ha, ha, ha! Heart. Quite the contrary, sir; I have taken her some time from the boarding-school, and brought her home, in order to dispose of her worthily, with her own inclination. Sir Cha. Her father, I have heard you say, recommended that particular care to you, when she had reached a certain age. Heart. He did so; and I am the more desirous to obey him scrupulously in this circumstance, as she will be a most valuable aquisition to the person who shall gain her; for not to mention her fortune, which is the least consideration, her sentiments are worthy her birth; she is gentle, modest, and obliging. In a word, my friend, I never saw youth more amiable or discreet; but perhaps I am a little partial to her. Sir Cha. No, No; she is a delicious creature, every body says so. But, I believe, neighbour, something has happened that you little think of. Heart. What! pray, sir Charles? Sir Cha. My nephew, Mr. Heartly— Enter YOUNG CLACKIT. Young Cla. Here I am, at your service, sir— |