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L. Fan. Why sure you would not sacrifice your Madem. Je n'en ai point moi. h: no ir to your pleasure ?

L. Fan. I dare not go. Modem. Je suis philosophe.

Madem. Demeurez donc. L. Fan. Bless me, how you talk ! Why, what L. Fan. Je suis poltrone. if honour be a burden, Mademoiselle, inust it not Madem. Tant pis pour vous. be borne ?

L. Fan. Curiosity's a wicked devil. Mudem. Chaqu'un à sa façon-Quand quelque Madem. C'est une charmante sainte. chose m'incommode, moi-je m'en defais, vite. L. Fun. It ruined our first parents.

L. Fin. Get you gone, you little naughty Madem. Elle a bien diverti leurs enfans. Frenchwoman you: I vow and swear I must turn L. Fan. L'honneur est contre. you out of doors, if you talk thus.

Mladem. Le plaisir est pour. Mudem. Turn me out of doors !--turn your L. Fun. Must I then go? self out of doors, and go see what de gentleman Madem. Must you go? -must you eat, must have to say to you— Tenez. Voilà (Giving her you drink, must you sleep, must you live? De naher things hastily.) votre esharp, voilà votre coife, ture bid you do one, de nature bid you do toder. voilà votra masque, voila tout. Hey, Mercure, Vous me ferez enrager. coquin : call one chair for matam, and one oder L.Fun. But when reason corrects nature, Ma(Cailing within.] for me. Va t'en vite. (Turn. demoiselleing to her Lady, and helping her on hastily with Mudem. Elle est donc bien insolente, c'est sa her things.] Allons, matam ; depechez vous donc.

sæur ainée. Mon dieu, quelles scruples !

L. Fan. Do you then prefer your nature to L. Fan. Well, for once, Mademoiselle, I'll fol- your reason, Mademoiselle? low your advice, out of the intemperate desire I Madem. Qui da. have to know who this ill-bred fellow is; but I L. Fun. Pourquoi ? have too much delicatesse to make a practice on't. Madem. Because my nature make me merry,

Madem. Belle chose vrayment que la delica- my reason make me mad. tesse, lors qu'il s'agit de divertir — a ca-Vous L. Fan. Ah, la méchante Françoise. voilà équipee, partons.-Hé bien ? qu'avez vous Mudem. Ah, la belle Angloise. donc !

(Erit, forcing her Lady off L. Fan. J'ay peur.

ACT II.

for

together. Have you a mind to be the prettiest SCENE I.--St James's Park.

woman about town, or not? How she stares upon

me! What ! this passes for an impertinent ques. Enter Ludy FANCIFUL and MADEMOISELLE.

tion with you now, because you think you are so L. Fan. Well, I vow, Mademoiselle, I'm already. strangely impatient to know who this confident L. Fun. Pray, sir, let me ask you a question fellow is.

in my turn : by what right do you pretend to ex•

amine me? Enter HEARTFREE.

Heart. By the same right that the strong govern Look, there's Heartfree. But sure it cann't be the weak, because I have you in my power; him ; he's a professed woman-hater. Yet who you cannot get so quickly to your coach, but I knows what my wicked eyes may have done? shall have time enough to make you hear every Madem. Il nous approche, matam.

thing I have to say to you. L. Fan. Yes, 'tis he: now will he be most in L. Fun. These are strange liberties you take, tolerably cavalier, though he should be in love Mr Heartfree.

Hvart. They are so, madam, but there's no Heart. Madam, I'm your humble servant; I per- help for it; for know that I have a design upon ceive you have more humility and good-nature | you. than I thought you had.

L. Fun. Upon me, sir? L. Pan. What you attribute to humility and Heart. Yes; and one that will turn to your good-nature, sir, may perhaps be only due to cu glory and my comfort, if you will be but a little riosity. I had a mind to know who 'twas had ill wiser than you use to be. manners enough to write that letter.

L. Fun. Very well, sir. [Throwing him his letter. Heart. Let me see-Your vanity, madam, I Heart. Well, and now I hope you are satisfied i take to be about some eight degrees higher than L. Fun. I am so, sir; good-by t'ye.

any woman's in the town, let t'other be who she Heurt. Nay, hold there; though you have done will; and my indifference is naturally about the your business, I ha'n't done mine: by your lady same pitch. Now, could you find the way to turn ship’s leave, we must have one moment’s prattle this indifference into fire and flame, methinks you o

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vanity ought to be satisfied; and thig, perhaps, | rosity to a usarer, horiesty to a lawyer, than disyou might bring about upon pretty reasonable cretion to a woman I see has once set her heart terms.

upon playing the fool. L. Fan. And pray at what rate would this indifference be bought off, if one should have so de

Enter CONSTANT. praved an appetite to desire it?

Morrow, Constant. Heurt. Why, madam, to drive a quaker's bar Con. Good morrow, Jack: What are you dogain, and make but one word with you, if I do ing here this morning ? part with it, you must lay down—your affecta Heart. Doing ! guess, if you can. Why, I tion.

have been endeavouring to persuade my Lady L. Fan. My affectation, sir!

Fanciful that she's the most foolish woman about Heart. Why I ask you nothing but what you may very well spare.

Con. A pretty endeavour truly. L. Fan. You grow rude, sir. Come, Made Heart. I have told her, in as plain English as moiselle, it is high time to be gone.

I could spcak, both what the town says of ber, Madem. Allons, allons, allons !

and what I think of her. In short, I have used Heart. (Stopping them.) Nay, you may as well her as an absolute king would do Magna Charta. stand still; for bear me you shall, walk which Con. And how does she take it? way you please.

Heart, As children do pills; bite them, but 1. Fan. What mean you, sir?

cann't swallow them. Heart. I mean to tell you, that you are the most Con. But pr’ythee, what has pat it into your ungrateful woman upon earth.

head, of all mankind, to turn reformer? L. Fun. Ungrateful! to whom ?

Heart. Why, one thing was, the morning hung Heart. To nature.

upon my hands, I did not know what to do with L. Fun. Why, what has nature done for me? myself; and another was, that, as little as I care

Heart. What you have undone by art ! It made for women, I could not see with patience one you handsome: it gave you beauty to a miracle, a that Heaven had taken such wondrous pains shape without a fault

, wit enough to make them about, be so very industrious to make herself the relish, and so turned you loose to your own dis- Jack-pudding of the creation. cretion; which has made such work with you, Con. Well, now could I almost wish to see that you are become the pity of our sex, and the my cruel mistress make the self-same use of jest of your own. There is not a feature in your what Heaven has done for her, that so I might face, but you have found the way to teach it some be cured of the same disease that makes me so affected convulsion; your feet, your lands, your very uneasy; for love, love is the devil, Heartvery fingers'ends, are directed never to move with free. out some ridiculous air or other; and your lan Heurt. And why do you let the devil govern guage is a suitable trumpet, to draw people's eyes. you? upon the raree.show,

Con. Because I have more Aesh and blood Madem. (Aside.] Est ce qu'on fait l'amour en than

grace and self-denial. My dear, dear misAngleterre comme ça ?

tress, 'sdeath! that so genteel

a woman should 1. Fan. (Aside.) Now could I cry for madness, be a saint, when religion's out of fashion ! but that I know he'd laugh at me for it.

Heart. Nay, she's much in the wrong truly ; Heart. Now do you hate me for telling you but who knows how far time and good example the truth, but that's because you don't believe may prevail ? 'tis so; for, were you once convinced of that, you'd Con. O! they have played their parts in vain reform for your own sake.

already ; 'tis now two years since the fellow her L. Fan. Every circumstance of nice breeding husband invited me to his wedding; and there must needs appear ridiculous to one who has so

was the first time I saw that charming woman, natural an antipathy to good manners.

whom I have loved ever since; but she is cold, Heart. But, suppose I could find the means to my friend, still cold as the northern star. convince you that the whole world is of my opi Heart. So are all women by nature, which nion ?

makes them so willing to be warmed. L. Fan. Sir, though you, and all the world you Con. O don't profane the sex; pr’ythee think talk of, should be so impertinently officious as to them all angels for her sake; for she's virtuous think to persuade me I don't know how to behave even to a fault. myself, I should still have charity enough for my Heart. A lover's head is a good accountable own understanding, to believe myself in the right, thing truly; he adores his mistress for being virand all you in the wrong.

tuous, and yet is very angry with her because she Madem. Le voilà mort.

won't be kind. (Eseunt Lady FANCIFUL and MADEMOISELLE. Con. Well, the only relief I expect in my mi

Heart. (Gazing at her.] There her single clap- sery, is to sce thee some day or other as deeply per has published the sense of the whole sex. engaged as myself, which will force me to be Well, this once I have endeavoured to wash the merry in the midst of all my misfortunes. black-moor white, but henceforward I'll sooner Heart. That day will never come, be assured, undertake to teach sincerity to a courtier, gene- / Ned: not but that I can pass a night with a wo

a woman.

man, and for the time, perhaps, make myself as Heart. And just now he was sure time could good sport as you can do. Nay, I can court a do nothing. woman too, call her nymph, angel, goddess, what Con. Yet not one kind glance in two years is you please : but here's the difference between

somewhat strange. you and I; I persuade a woman she's an angel, Heart. Not strange at all; she don't like you, and she persuades you she's one. But pr’ythee that's all the business. let me tell you how I avoid falling in love; that Con. Pr’ythee don't distract me. which serves me for prevention, may chance to Heurt. Nay, you are a good handsome young serve you for a cure.

fellow; she might use you better. Come, wil Cori. Well, use the ladies moderately then, you go see her? perhaps she may have changed and I'll hear you.

her mind; there's some hopes, as long as she's Heart. That using the moderately undoes us all: but I'll use them justly, and that you Con. O, 'tis in vain to visit her: sometimes to ought to be satisfied with. I always consider a get a sight of her, I visit that beast her husband, woman, not as the tailor, the shoe-maker, the tire- but she certainly finds some pretence to quit the woman, the semstress, and (which is more than room as soon as I enter. all that) the poet makes her ; but I consider her Heart. It's much she don't tell him you have as pure nature has contrived her, and that more made love to her too; for that's another goodstrictly than I si ould have done our old grand natured thing usual amongst women, in which mother Eve, had I seen her naked in the garden; they have several ends. Sometimes 'tis to refor I consider her turned inside out. Her heart commend their virtue, that they may be kind well examined, I find there pride, vanity, covet with the greater security. Sometimes 'tis to ousness, indiscretion, but, above all things, ma make their husbands fight, in hopes they may be lice: plots eternally forging to destroy one ano killul, when their affairs require it should be so: ther's reputations, and as honestly to charge the but most commonly 'tis to engage two men in a levity of men's tongues with the scandal; hourly quarrel, that they may have the credit of being debates how to make poor gentlemen in love fought for; and it the lover's killed in the busiwith them, with no other intent but to use them

ness, they cry, Poor fellow, he had ill luck!-and like dogs when they have done ; a constant de so they go to cards. sire of doing more mischief, and an everlasting Con. Thy injuries to women are not to be forgiwar waged against truth and good-nature. ven. Look to't, if ever you fall into their hands

Con. Very well, sir; an admirable composition, Heart. They cann't use mc worse than they truly !

do you, that speak well of 'em. Oho! here Heart. Then for her outside, I consider it comes the knight. merely as an outside ; she has a thin tiffany covering; just over such stuff as you and I are

Enter Sir John BRUTE. made on. As for her motion, her mien, her airs, Heart. Your humble servant, Sir John. and all those tricks, I know they affect you Sir John. Servant, sir. mightily. If you should see your mistress at a Heart. How does all your family? coronation, dragging her peacock's train, with all Sir John. Pox on my family! her state and insolence about her, 'twould strike Con. How does your lady? I ha'n't seen her you with all the awful thoughts that Heaven it- abroad a good while. self could pretend to form you: whereas I turn Sir John. Do! I don't know how she does, the whole matter into a jest, and suppose her not I; she was well enough yesterday; I ha'n't strutting in the self-same stately manner, with been at home to-night. nothing on but her stays, and her scanty quilted Con. What, were you out of town? under-petticoat.

Sir John. Out of town! No, I was drinking. Con. Hold thy profane tongue; for I'll liear Con. You are a true Englishman ; don't know no more!

your own happiness. If I were married to such Heart. What, you'll love on then?

a woman, I would not be from her a night for Con. Yes.

all the wine in France. Heart. Yet have no hopes at all ?

Sir John. Not from her!—'Oons—what a time Con. None.

should a man have of that! Heart. Nay, the resolution may be discreet Heurt. Why, there's no division, I hope. enough; perhaps you have found out some new Sir John. No; but there's a conjunction, and philosophy, that love, like virtue, is its own re that's worse ; a pox of the parson-why the ward: so you and your mistress will be as well plague don't you two marry? I fancy I look like content at a distance, as others that have less the devil to you. learning are in coming together.

Heart. Why, you don't think you have horns, Con. No; but if she should prove kind at last, do you? my dear Heartfree?

[Embracing him. Sir John. No, I believe my wife's religion will Teurt. Nay, pr’ythee don't take me for your keep her honest. mistress; for lovers are very troublesome.

Heurt. And what will make ber keep her rel'on. Well, who knows what time may do? ligion?

let me.

Sir John. Persccution; and therefore she shall , secret are the two impertinentest themes in the bave it.

universe : therefore, pray let's hear no more of Heart. Have a care, knight, women are ten- my wife nor your mistress. Damn 'em both with der things.

ali my heart, and every thing else that daggles a Sir John. And yet, methinks, 'tis a hard mat- petticoat, except four generous whores who are ter to break their hearts.

drunk with my Lord Rake and I ten times in a Con. Fie, fie ! you have one of the best wives fortniglit.

[Exit. in the world, and yet you seem the most uneasy Con. Here's a dainty fellow for you! and the husband.

veriest coward too. But his usage of his wife Sir John. Best wives !-the woman's well en makes me ready to stab the villain. ough ; she has no vice that I know of ; but she's Heurt. Lovers are short-sighted; all their sena wife, and—damn a wife! if I were married to ses run into that of feeling. This proceeding of a hogshead of claret, matrimony would make me his is the only thing on earth can make your forhate it.

tune. If any thing can prevail with her to accept Heart. Why did you marry then you were a gallant, 'tis his usage of her. Pr’ythee, take old enough to know your own mind.

heart; I have great hopes for you; and, since I Sir John. Why did I marry! I married because cann't bring you quite off her, I'll endeavour to I had a mind to lay with her, and she would not bring you quite on; for a whining lover is the

damnest companion on earth. Heart. Why did you not ravish her ?

Con. My dear friend, fatter me a little more Sir John. Yes; and so have hedged myself in. with these hopes; for whilst they prevail, I have to forty quarrels with her relations, besides buy- Elysium within me, and could melt with joy. ing my pardon : but, more than all that, you must Heart. Pray, no melting yet ; let things go know I was afraid of being damned in those days, farther first. This afternoon, perhaps, we shall for I kept sneaking, cowardly company, fellows

make some advance. In the mean while, let's go that went to church, said grace to their meat, and dine at Locket’s, and let hope get you a stomach. had not the least tincture of quality about them.

[Exeunt. Heart. But I think you have got into a better gang now.

SCENE II.-Lady FANCYFUL's House. Sir John. Zoons, sir, my Lord Rake and I are hand and glove: I believe we may get our bones

Enter Lady FANCYFUL and MADEMOISELLE. broke together to-night. Have you a mind to L. Fun. Did you ever see any think so impor. share a frolic?

tune, Mademoiselle? Con. Not I, truly; my talent lies in softer ex Mudem. Indeed, matam, to say de trute, he ercises.

want leetel good-breeding. Sir John. What, a down bed and a strumpet ? L. Fan. Good-breeding! He wants to be caA pox of venery, I say. Will you come and drink ned, Mademoiselle. An insolent fellow ! and yet, with me this afternoon ?

let me expose my weakness, 'tis the oniy man on Con. I cann't drink to-day ; but we'll come earth I could resolve to dispense my favours on, and sit an hour with

you
if

were he but a fine gentleman. Well, did men Sir John. Pough, pox, sit an hour! Why cann't but know how deep an impression a fine gentieyou drink?

man makes in a lady's heart, they would reduce Con. Because I'm to see my mistress.

all their studies to that of good-breeding alone. Sir John. Who's that?

Enier Servant.
Con. Why do you lise to tell?
Sir John. Yes.

Scro. Will your ladyship please to dine yet? Con. So won't I.

I Fun. Yes, let 'ein serve. (Erit Serv.) Sure Sir John. Why?

this Heartfree has betwitched me, Mademoiselle. Con. Because it is a secret.

You cann't imagine how oddly he mixt himself Sir John. Would my wife knew it, 'twould be in my thoughts during my rapture e'en now. I no secret long.

vow 'tis a thousand pities he is not more polishCon. Why, do you think she cann't keep a se ed; don't you think so? cret?

Madem. Matam, I think it is so great pity, Sir John. No more than she could keep Lent. that, if I was in your ladyship’s place, I take him Heart. Pr’ythee, it her to try, Constant. home in my house, I lock him up in my closet,

Sir John. No, pr’ythee don't, that I mayn't be and I never let him go, till I teach him every ting plagued with it.

dat

fine lady expect from fine gentleman. Con. I'll hold you a guinea you don't make her L. Fan. Why truly, I believe I should soon

subdue his brutality ; for, without doubt, he has Sir John. I'll hold you a guinea I do.

a strange penchant to grow fond of me, in spite Con. Which way?

of his aversion to the sex, else he would ne'er Sir John. Why, I'll beg her not to tell it me. have taken so much pains about me. Lord, how Heart. Nay, if any thing does it, that will. proud would some poor creatures be of such a Con. But do you think, sir

conquest! but I, alas ! I don't know how to reSir John. 'Oons, sir, I think a woman and a ceive as a favour, what I take to be so infinitely

you will,

tell it you.

my due. But what shall I do to new mould hin, , and be severe upon him that way. [Sitting down Mademoiselle; for, till then, he's my utter aver to write, rising up again.)-Yet active severity sion?

is better than passive. (Sitting down.- 'Tis as Madem. Matem, you must laugh at him in all good to let it alone too: for every lash I give him, de places dat you meet him, and turn into de ri- perhaps he'll take for a favour.-[Rising.) Yet 'tis dicule all he say and all he do.

a thousand pities so much satire should be lost. L. Fun. Why truly, satire has ever been of (Sitting.}-But if it should have a wrong effect wondrous use to reform ill manners. Besides, upon him, 'twould distract me. [Rising.)– Well, I 'tis my particular talent to ridicule folks. I can must write though, after all, [Sitting.-or I'll let be severe, strangely severe, when I will Mademoi- it alone, which is the same thing. (Rising.] selle-Give me the pen and ink I find myself Maden. La voilà determinée (Exeunt. wlumsical- I'll write to kim-or I'll let it alone,

ACT III.

.

L. Brute. O! 'tis the prettiest fringe in the SCENE J.-Opens and discovers Sir John, La- | world. Well, cousin, you have the happiest fan

dy BRUTE, and BELINDA, rising from the cy: pr’ythee advise me about altering my crimtuble.

son petticoat.

Sir John. A pox o' your petticoat ! here's such Sir Jukn. Here; take away the things : I ex a prating, a man cann't digest his own thoughts pect company. But first bring me a pipe ; I'll for you. smoke. [Tw a Servant.}

L. Brule. Don't answer him. [Aside.)-Well, L. Brule. Lord, Sir John, I wonder you won't what do you advise me? leave off that masty custom.

Bel. Why, really, I would not alter it at all. Sir John, Pr’ythee don't be impertinent.

Methinks 'tis very pretty as it is. Bel. (To L. BRUTE.) I wonder who those are L. Brute. Ay, that's true: but you know one hc expects this afternoon.

grows weary of the prettiest things in the world, L. Brute. I'd give the world to know. Pero when one has had 'em long. haps 'tis Constant; he comes here sometimes; if Sir John. Yes, I have taught her that. it does prove bim, I'm resolved I'll share the vi Bel. Shall we provoke him a little ? sit

L. Brute. With all my heart. Belinda, don't Bel. We'll send for our work and sit here.

you long to be married ? L. Brute. He'll choke us with his tobacco. Bel. Why, there are some things in it which I

Bel. Nothing will choke us when we are do could like well enough. ing what we have a mind to. Lovewell

L. Brule. What do you think you

should diso like? Enter LOVEWELL.

Bel. My husband, a hundred to one else. Lote. Madam.

L. Brute. O ye wicked wretch! Sure you don't L. Brute. Here; bring my cousin's work and speak as you think? spine hither.

Bel. Yes I do: especially if he smoked tobac(Exit LOVE., and re-enters with their work.

(He looks earnestly at them. Sir Joka. Why, pox, cann't you work some L. Brule. Why, that many times takes off where else?

worse smells. L. Bruie. We shall be careful not to disturb Bel. Then he must smell very ill indeed.

L. Brute. So some men will, to keep their Bel. Your pipe would make you too thought- wives from coming near them. ful, unde, if you were lett alone; our prittle Bel. Then those wives should cuckold 'em at piattle will cure your spleen.

a distance. (He rises in a fury, throws his pipe Sir Joka. Will it so, Mrs Pert? Now I believe

ut them, and drives them out. it wil so increase it, (Sitting und smoking.] I shall take my own house for a paper-mill.

As they run of, enter ConstANT and HEARTI Brute [To BEL aside.] Don't let's mind

FREE; Lady BRUTE runs against Constant. him; let him say what he will.

Sir John. 'Oons, get you gone up stairs, you Sir Johs. A woman's tongue a cure for the confederating strumpets you, or I'll cuckold you, spleen! 'oons-[Aside.) if a man had got the with a vengeance ! head-ach, they'd be for applying the same reme L. Brute. O lord, he'll beat us, he'll beat us ! dy.

Dear, dear Mr Constant, save us! L. Brule. You have done a great deal, Belin

(Exeunt L. BRUTE and BEL. da, since yesterday.

Sir John. I'll cuckold you, with a pox! Bel . Yes, I bave worked very hard; how do Con. Heaven ! Sir Jolin, what's the matter?

Sir John. Sure, if women had been ready cre.

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