Mrs. Good. Oh, if I would ever consent to wrong my husband (which heaven forbid, Lettice!) it should be, to choose, with his friend. For such a one has a double obligation to secrecy, as well for his own honour, as mine. But I'll swear, Lettice, you are an idle girl for talking so much of this, that you are: 'tis enough to put ill thoughts into one's head, which I am the most averse to of all things in the world.

Let. But, madam, thoughts are free; and 'tis as hard not to think a little idly sometimes, as it is to be always in good humour. But it would make any one laugh, to think Mr. Truman should be in love with madam Victoria, if all be real which your ladyship suspects.

Mrs. Good. Ay, and with a design of marriage too: but a ranging gallant thinks he fathoms all, and counts it as much beneath his experience to doubt his security in a wife, as success in a mistress.

Let. Besides, after a little time, he is so very industrious in cuckolding others, that he never dreams how swimmingly his own affairs are managed at home.

Enter VICTORIA.

Mrs. Good. But hush-she's here.
Vict. A happy day to you, madam.

Mrs. Good. Dear cousin, your humble servant: have you heard who are below?

Vict. Yes, young Truman, and his inseparable companion, Valentine.

Mrs. Good. Well, what will you do, cousin? Truman comes resolved on conquest: for with the advantages he has in your heart already, 'tis impossible you should be able to hold out against him.

Vict. Yes, powerful champaign, as they call it, may do much; a spark can no more refrain running into love after a bottle, than a drunken country vicar can avoid disputing of religion when his patron's ale grows stronger than his reason.

Mrs. Good. Come, come, dissemble your inclinations

as artfully as you please, I am sure they are not so indifferent but they may be easily discerned.

Vict. Truly, madam, you may be mistaken in your guess.

Mrs. Good. How! I doubt it is some other man then has caused this alteration in you.-Lord, Lettice, is she not extremely altered?

Vict. Altered, madam! what do you mean ? Mrs. Good. Nay, Lettice, fetch a glass, and let her see herself: Lord, you are paler than you used to be. Let. Ay, and then that blueness under the eyes. Mrs. Good. Besides, you are not so lively as I have known you: pardon me, cousin.

Let. Well, if there be a fault, marriage will cure all. Vict. I'll assure you, I have none that I know of stands in need of so desperate a remedy. Marriage! fault! what can all this tend to?

Enter Page.

Mrs. Good. Well, what now?

Page. Madam Camilla is coming to wait upou your ladyship.

Mrs. Good. Ha, Camilla! tell her I'll attend her: won't you go with me, Victoria? [Exit Page.

Vict. I'll but step into my chamber, and follow you instantly. [Exeunt Mrs. Good. and Lettice.] Whither can all this drive? Surely she has discovered something of Goodvile's love and mine: if she has I am ruined.

Enter GOODVILE.

Good. Victoria! your cousin is not here, is she? What, in clouds? I stole this minute from my friends on purpose to see thee, and must not I have a look? Not a word?

Vict. Oh, I am ruined and lost for ever! I fear your wife has had some knowledge of our loves: and if it be so, what will then become of me?

Good. Pr'ythee no more: my wife! she has too good

an opinion of herself, to have an ill one of me; and would as soon believe her glass could flatter her, as I be false to her: my wife-ha, ha.

Vict. Yes, I am sure it must be so; it can be no otherwise but you are satisfied, and now have nothing more to do, but to leave me to be miserable.

Good. Leave thee! by heaven I'd sooner renounce my family, and own myself the bastard of a rascal: come, quiet thy doubts; Truman is here; and take my love for thy security, he shall be thine to-night.

Vict. I have great reason to expect it, indeed. That you would hazard your interest in so good a friend for the reparation of my honour, that so little concerns you, and which you have already made your best of.

Good. No more of that: love's my province; and thine is too dear to me to be neglected. Tis true, I have made him my friend, and I hope he will deserve it, by doing thee that justice which I am incapable of. Vict. You can promise easily.

Good. Ay, and as resolutely perform: when I have heated him with wine, prepare to receive him.

Ha, she here!

Enter Mrs. GOODVILE.

Mrs. Good. So, so, Mr. Goodvile, are you there in, deed? I thought I should catch you.

Good. Faith, my dear, I have been speaking a good word for Jack Truman; my cousin Victoria's too cruel.

Mrs. Good. Oh, fy, Victoria! can you be so hardhearted to deny any thing, when Mr. Goodvile is an advocate?

Vict. I must confess it is with some difficulty; but should I too easily comply upon Mr. Goodvile's intercession, who knows but your ladyship might be jealous? for he that can prevail for another, may presume there's hopes for himself.

Mrs. Good, Ay, but cousin, I know you are my friend, and would not, though but in regard of that, do me such an injury: besides, Mr. Goodvile knows I dare trust him: don't you, love?

Good. Trust me! yes, for if you don't, 'tis all oneCredulous innocence! [Aside.] Alas, my dear, were I as false as thou art good, thy generous confidence would shame me into honesty.

Enter CAMILLA running and squeaking; TRUMAN and VALENTINE after her.

Cam. For heaven's sake, madam, save me!-Mr. Goodvile, 'tis safer travelling through the Deserts of Arabia, than entering your house: had I not run hard for it, I had been devoured, that's certain.

Val. Oh, madam, are you herded? It will be to little purpose; I am stanch, and never change my game. Cam. But when you have lost it, if fresh start up, you can be as fully satisfied, who hunt more for the love of the sport, than for the sake of the prey.

Val. But, madam, should you chance to be taken, look to't; for I shall touze and worry you most unmercifully, till I have revenged myself severely for the pains you cost me catching.

Cam. Therefore I am resolved to keep out of your reach; Lord! what would become of such a poor little creature as I am, in the paws of so ravenous an animal?

Tru. But are you too, lady, so wild as Mrs. Camilla? Vict. Oh, sir, to the full! but I hope you are not so unmerciful as Mr. Valentine.

Tru. No, madam, quite on the contrary, as soft and pliant as your pillow: you may mould me to your own ease and pleasure, which way you will.

Vict. "Tis strange two of such different tempers should so well agree: methinks you look like two as roaring, ranting, tory-rory sparks as one would wish to meet withal.

Val. Yes, madam, at the playhouse in a vizor*, when

The practice of females appearing masked at the theatre, had been introduced after the Restoration, and was common at this period. It grew at last into a nuisance; and having been partly the occasion of a duel, was prohibited by government about the year 1705.

you come drest and prepared for the encounter; there indeed we can be as unanimously modish and imperti nent as the pertest coxcombs of 'em all: till like them too, we lose our hearts, and never know what becomes of 'em.

Cam. But the comfort is, you are sure to find 'em again in the next bottle.

Mrs. Good. Then drink 'em down to the ladies' healths, and they are as well at ease as ever they were.

Tru. Why, you would not be so unconscionable as to have us two such whining crop-sick lovers, as sigh away their hours, and write lamentable ditties, to be sung about the town by fools and bullies in taverns.

Good. Till some Smithfield doggrel, taking the hint, swells the sonnet to a ballad, and Chloris dwindles into a kitchen-wench.

Vict. Tis presumed then you are of that familiar tribe that never make love but by contraries, and rally our faults, when you pretend to admire our perfections.

Cam. As if the only way to raise a good opinion of yourselves, were to let us know how ill a one you have of us.

Tru. Faith, madam, 'tis a hard world; and when beauty is held at so dear a rate, 'tis the best way to beat down the market as much as we can.

Val. But you shall find, ladies, we'll bid like chapmen for all that.

Vict. You had best have a care though lest you overreach yourselves, and repent of your purchase when 'tis too late.

Cam. Besides, I hate a Dutch bargain that's made in heat of wine, for the love it raises is generally like the courage it gives, very extraordinary, but very shortlived.

Good. How, madam! have a care what you say: wine is the prince of love, and all ladies that speak against it, forfeit their charter. I must not have my favourite traduced. Boy, bring some wine: you shall