Mrs. F. Don't attempt to correct him; 'tis an uncommon fault with husbands.

Mrs. B. That's true; few men are like Bromley.— [Looking cautiously around.] Now, there is my husband's partner, Mr. Simpson-Peter Simpson-a pretty name for a gay deceiver!Mrs. F. That name is familiar to me. Oh! I remember-I received some acceptances of his in payment from my poor husband's executor.

Mrs. B. Well-only conceive-his wife, poor thing-Mrs. F. Does he neglect her?

Mrs. B. He's a wretch! We have the most positive proof against him. I do all I can to console poor Susan, but what can avail in such a case!

Mrs. F. Oh! these men, these men! And the inconceivable effrontery of some of them! What think you, for instance, of a man I never saw before in my life--one Captain-Captain-Captain Walsingham, who, without any sort of introduction, twice presents himself at my house, under pretence of settling some business for me at the India House?

Mrs. B. Is it possible! and how did you receive him? Mrs. F. As his insolence deserved, of course; and for some time I heard no more of him. But within these few days he has dared to write to me. His first letter I returned to him unanswered, but he so pesters me with his epistles, that I find it less trouble to burn them unopened. Then I can scarcely stir from home but he follows my carriage, and-in short, his importunities are become so irksome, that I am half determined to apply to the magistrates.

Mrs. B. Hush! here comes the unhappy pair.—

[They walk up the stage.

Enter SIMPSON and MRS. SIMPSON, L.

Simp. [Speaks on entering.] Oh! with all my heartseparate maintenance, or no maintenance at all, if you prefer it so you will but cease to torment me.

Mrs. S. I'm not the woman, Mr. Simpson, to bear such wrongs tamely; I have relations, and—

Mrs. B. [Coming hastily forward.] For Hea 's sake! here's a visitor—I must present to you a dr friend of

mine-Mrs. Fitzallan.

▪np. [Bowing.] Any friend of Mrs. Bromley's-Ma

your servant.

rs. S. I am delighted, ma'am, to-[To Mrs. Bromley.] support me, my dear, I'm fainting.

Irs. B. What is the matter?

imp. [ Taking her hand, which she hastily witharaws.] at ails you, my duck?

Irs. F. The lady is very pale.

Irs. S. [Repulsing her.] 'Tis nothing, madam-'tis -it was merely the surprise. There are persons

lf directed to Simpson,] who can support a surprise hout the slightest change of countenance. Mr. Simp■, I dare say, is of my opinion.

Mrs. B. I perceive nothing very surprising, my dear, a simple introduction to an old friend of mine.

Mrs. S. The lady is not altogether unknown to me r to Mr. Simpson either.

Simp. To me! I don't recollect ever having had the onour of seeing the lady before.

Mrs. F. I go but little into society, ma'am; may I inire where you

Mrs. S. This gentleman is more competent to answer he question than myself, madam.

Mrs. B. [Aside.] What can she mean?

Simp. [In an under tone and with suppressed anger.] Madam, let me advise you, for your own sake, not to expose your folly to a stranger.-[Aside.] I wonder she has not attacked fat Betty, the cook, or old Sally, the housemaid.

Mrs. S. [To Mrs. Fitzallan.] Pray, madam, did you ever sit for your portrait ?

Mrs. F. [Laughing.] I now perceive the occasion of your surprise. No doubt you saw my portrait in the Exhibition; and the likeness, which was, indeed, allowed to be perfect, has led you to imagine-Ha! ha! ha!—and my black velvet dress--did you remark how finely that was painted?

Mrs. S. [Aside.] Black velvet! 'tis that-there's no longer a doubt. I am perfectly well acquainted with the miniature, madam, but it was not at the Exhibition I saw

it.

Mrs. F. A miniature? you mistake: a full length pic

ture.

Mrs. B. [Aside. Can her jealousy have so blinded her? [Aloud and laughing.] I begin to understand the meaning of this; but, take my word for it, my dear, you were never so mistaken in your life.

Mrs. F. [Aside.] Good heavens! Can I be the cause of any disagreement here?

Simp. Well, ladies, to me all this is a riddle; I have lived in a riddle this whole day; as I never was very apt at guessing riddles, I shall quietly leave to time the task of expounding this.

Enter BROMLEy, r.

Brom. Well, love, 'tis near dinner time; are you sure your friend Marianne will come?

Mrs. B. [Pointing to Mrs. Fitzallan, whose back is turned to Bromley.] She is here, Charles. Marianne, I must present my husband to you-Mr. Bromley.

Mrs. F. This gentleman-Mr. Bromley?—

Brom. [Overwhelmed with confusion, yet pointedly and rapidly.] Is the husband of your friend, madam.-[Aside.] I wish I was up to my neck in a horse-pond!

Mrs. F. I congratulate you sincerely, sir, on your choice. We were just speaking of you; Mrs. Bromley has emphatically eulogised your undivided attention to her, and no one is more desirous than myself to believe that you fully merit her confidence.

Brom. [Greatly embarrassed.] Oh, madam! when the heart-when a wife-when a husband, whose constancy, whose fidelity-a virtue now departed from with impunity -[Aside.] I'm dished!

Mrs. S. [To Simpson.] Do you hear that, base man? Simp. Yes, I hear; though I understand nothing about it. However, I'm determined to be silent, and we shall see which of us will be tired soonest.

Mrs. B. [To Bromley, and pointing towards Simpson.] You are too severe, my love; be compassionate-a little indulgence-[To Mrs. Fitzallan,] am I not right?

Brom. A little indulgence-aye, aye, a little-we all have reed of it-besides, at an age when the passions, and when—after all, there are greater sinners than we! Eh, Simpson?

Simp. [Aside.] It seems as if Bromley's turn had come.

turn and turn about-my wife and I have need of e rest, that's certain.

om. And when one considers the weakness-theess I say the better.

s. F. That, sir, is exactly my opinion.

rs. B. I am glad, Charles, to find you so weak an adte in so bad a cause.

rs. F. To put an end to a conversation which must exceedingly embarrassing to a certain person of the y—pray tell me, Mr. Bromley, whether you happen e acquainted with one Captain Walsingham?

Brom. [Aside.] The cruel little devil!-Yes, ma'am ; not quite-yes, yes, I knew him--ma'am; that is'am, I knew him formerly.

Mrs. B. [Aside.] I regret that Charles was acquainted th so disreputable a person.

Mrs. F. Do tell me what is his character, Mr. Bromley. Brom. His character? Oh, he's a-a sort of a-a perct man of honour, I assure you, ma'am.

Mrs. F. No doubt; he seems, too, to be a devoted ave of the ladies.

Mrs. B. Pray, Charles, present my respects to your Captain Walsingham. Mrs. Fitzallan has related to me - little anecdote concerning him, which places him very high in my esteem.

Brom. What, then, you know-[Aside.] Can she have told!

Mrs. F. Do you know, Mr. Bromley, whether he still maintains his influence at the India House?

Brom. [Pointedly.] No, ma'am; he's now an ex-director; has abandoned all intentions of further interference in that quarter. How shall I get out of this? Here, William-a-let's have dinner, d'ye hear? it's full time.

Enter a SERVANT, R.

Serv. Dinner, sir, won't be ready this half-hour.

[Exit, R. Brom. Very well.-[Aside.] John deserves a guinea for interrupting the conversation.

Simp. [Gaily.] Come, Bromley, go and order a bottle of champaign in honour of our fair guest; that will set us all in good humour; and before the third glass has

gone round, I warrant it, we shall all have come to a right understanding. Ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. B. Oh, let the butler look to the wine; and you, Charles, show Marianne our collection of pictures-I'll follow in a moment.

Brom. [Aside.] How I am to escape, heaven knows! -Your arm, madam.

[Exeunt Bromley and Mrs. Fitzallan. Simpson of fers his arm to Mrs. Simpson; she rejects it, and follows the others.

Mrs. B. [To Simpson, as he is going off.] Mr. Simpson, a word. Considering your situation, your boisterous gaiety, to say the best of it-is ill-judged.

Mrs. S. Mr. Simpson, your braving it out in this manner is positively indecent.

[Exit Mrs. Bromley, who also rejects his arm. Simp. Vasily well-let them say what they will, I'm determined not to open my mouth 'till dinner's ready

[Exit, R.

SCENE II-A Drawing Room with Pictures.

Enter MRS. FITZALLAN, R.

Mrs. F. Poor Mr. Bromley; he has some modesty, however, and couldn't bear a moment of examination.

Enter MRS. BROMLEY, R.

Mrs. B. What, has Bromley left you already? how rude!

Then,

Mrs. F. Rude !-I think the folks are all rather singu lar-he saw me to the door, bowed, and left me. really, my dear, Mrs. Simpson's behaviour to me is very extraordinary; she does not only avail herself of my presence to torment her husband, but I am evidently the ob ject of all her sarcasms and inuendos.

Mrs. B. Did you ever happen to see Mr. Simpson?
Mrs. F. No; never.

Mrs. B. How comes it, then, that he possesses your portrait ?—

Mrs. F. My portrait?

Mrs. B. Which he keeps concealed in his pocket-book. Mrs. F. Nonsense: impossible.