nence. What a damned creature is a decayed woman, with all the exquisite silliness and vanity of her sex, yet none of the charms!

[Malagene speaks in Punchinello's voice. Lady Squ. O Lord, that, that; that is a pleasure intolerable. Well, let me die if I can hold out any longer. Pray, Mr. Malagene, how long have you been in love with Mrs. Tawdry the actress?

Mal. Ever since your ladyship has been off from the hooks with Mr. Valentine. [In his own voice aloud.

Lady Squ. Uh! gud, I always thought Mr. Malagene had been better bred than to upbraid me with any such base thing to my face, whatever he might say of me behind my back: but there is no honour, no civility in the world, that I am satisfied of.

Val. Can your ladyship take any thing ill from Mr. Malagene? A woman should bear with the unlucky jerks of her buffoon or coxcomb, as well as with the illmanners of her monkey sometimes: the fools and rascals your sex delights in, ought to have the privilege of saying, as well as they have of doing any thing.

Lady Squ. Which you men of wit (as you think yourselves!) are very angry you should be debarred of: Lord, what pity 'tis your good parts should be your misfortune.

Val. Ay, madam, I feel the curse of it: I who had just sense enough to fall in love with so much beauty and merit, yet could not be able to keep the Paradise I was so happily possest of.

Lady Squ. This malice and ill-nature shall not serve your turn; I shall know all your proceedings and intrigues with Camilla, and be revenged on your love to her, for all the affronts and injuries you have done to mine.

Enter CAPER and SAUNTer.

Cap. Oh dear madam, we are utterly undone for want of your ladyship's company, I'll vow. Madam

Goodvile is coming with the fiddles to wait on you here. [Cuts backwards. Clum. Sir, are you a dancing-master? You are very nimble, methinks.

Cap. Ay, sir, I hate to stand still. But, sir Noble, I thought you had known me. I doubt you may be a 'little overtaken; faith, dear heart, I am glad to see thee so merry.

Clum. Yes, I do love dearly to be drunk once a year or so, 'tis good for my bodily health. But do you never drink?

Cap. No, sir Noble, that is not my province, you know: 'I mind dancing altogether.

Clum. Nor you? can't you drink, ha?

Saunt. 'No, I make love and sing to ladies.

Clum. Whores to my knowledge, arrant rank, common whores. A pox on your woman of quality that you carried me to in the Mall.

Tru. Why, what was the matter, sir Noble?

Clum. By yea, and by nay, a foul over-grown strumpet, with a running bawd instead of a waiting-woman; a great deal of paint, variety of old clothes, and nothing

to eat.

Lady Squ. O dear, let me die, if that was not extravagantly pleasant.

Tru. I believe sir Noble is much in the right; for I never came near these giddy, intriguing blockheads, but they were talking of love and ladies; nor ever met with a hackney stripping whore that did not know 'em. Cap. Ned Valentine, I have a kindness to beg of Val. Sir, you may command me any thing. Cap. Why, you must know I am in love with Camilla. Val. Very good.

you.

Cap. Now I would have you speak to Frank Goodvile, not to make love to her as he does, i'faith I can't bear it; for, to tell you the truth on't, I intend to inarry her; I catched him at it but now: faith it made my heart ache, never stir if it did not.

Val. In troth, sir, 'tis very uncivil. Truman, this

Goodvile has a mind to oblige us both; he's providing a wife for me too as fast as he can. Camilla's his quarry now, I understand; and by that time he has played as fair a game with her, as he has done with your mistress Victoria, I may stand fair to put in for the rubbers.

Tru. Valentine, thou art upon too sure grounds for him there; Camilla has both too much wit and virtue, and each with as little affectation as the other.

Val. Jack, after this I cannot but be very free with you. I know there is some love hatching between you and his wife: both our revenge lies in thy hands; and if thou durst not thyself and me justice, I'll disown thee for ever.

Tru. See where he comes, with a heart as gay and light, as if there were nothing but honesty in it.

Enter GOODVILE, singing.

When heauty can't move, and our passions grow cold, Wine still keeps it's charms, and we drink when we're old.

Good.-Jack Truman, yonder have I and Victoria been laughing at thee till we were weary. She swears thou art so very modest, she would not for all the world marry thee, for fear of spoiling that virtue.

Tru. Nay, then I doubt I have lost her for ever; for if she complains of my modesty, she has found a fault which I never thought I had been guilty of before.

Good. But that is a quality, which though they hate ever so much in a gallant, they are apt for many reasons to value in a husband: fear not, dissimulation is the natural adjunct of their sex; and I would no more despair of a woman, though she swore she hated me, than I would believe her, though she swore she loved

me.

Enter Lady SQUEAMISH and the rest of the Company, with the Fiddles.

Lady Squ. Oh a country dance, a country dance! Mr. Caper, where are you? you shall dance with ma

dam Camilla. Mr. Saunter, wait on Victoria. Mr. Goodvile, your humble servant. Dear Mr. Truman, won't you oblige me? Madam Goodvile-ha, ha, ha ! I'll swear I had utterly forgotten Mr. Valentine.

Val. Your ladyship knows me to be a civil person; if you please, I'll keep good orders.

[All take out the women.

Mal. Faith Ned do, and I'll keep the music in tune: away with it: [Music plays.] Hold, hold-what insufferable rascals are these? why ye scurvy, thrashing, scraping mongrels, ye make a worse noise than crampt hedge-hogs. An old gouty dancing-master, that teaches to dance with his spectacles on, makes better music on his cracked kit-'Sdeath, ye dogs, can't you play now as a gentleman sings? ha

Good. Sir, will you never leave this nauseous humour of your's? I can never be with you but I must be forced to use you ill, or endure the perpetual torment of your impertinence.

Mal. Well, sir, I have done, sir, I have done: but 'tis very hard a man can't be permitted to shew his parts. 'Sdeath, Frank, dost thou think thou understandest music?

Good. Sir, I understand it so well, that I won't have it interrupted in my company by you.

Mal. I am glad on't with all my heart; I never thought you had understood any thing before-I think there I was pretty even with you.

Good. Sauciness and ill-manners are so much your province, that nothing but kicking is fit for you.

Mal. Sir, you may use your pleasure; but I care no more for being kicked, than you do for kicking. But pr'ythee, Frank, 'why should you be out of humour so? The devil take me, if I shall not give thee such a jerk presently will make thee angry indeed.

Lady Squ. Lord, Mr. Goodvile, how can you be so ill-natured? I'll swear, Mr. Malagene is in the right. These people have no manners in the least, play not at

all to dancing: but I vow he himself sings a tune extreme prettily.

Good. Death, hell and the devil, how am I teazed! I shall have no opportunity to pursue my business with Camilla: I must remove this troublesome coxcomb, and that perhaps may put a stop at least to her imperti[Aside.

nence.

Lady Squ. Mr. Truman, Mr. Goodvile and ladies, I beseech you do me the favour to hear Mr. Malagene sing a Scotch song: I'll swear I am a strange admirer of Scotch songs, they are the prettiest, soft, melting, gentle, harmless things

Saunt. By dad, and so they are.—In January last— [Sings.

Val. Deliver us! a Scotch song! I hate it worse than a Scotch bagpipe, which even the bears are grown weary of, and have better music. I wish I could see her ladyship dance a Scotch jig to one of 'em.

Mal. I must needs beg your ladyship's pardon. I have forgotten the last new Scotch song: but if you please I'll entertain you with one of another nature, which I am apt to believe will be as pleasant.

Lady Squ. Let me die, Mr. Malagene, you are eternally obliging me. [Malagene sings an Irish Cronon. Mal. Well, madam, how like you it, madam, ha?

Lady Squ. Really it is very pretty now-the prettiest, odd, out-of-the-way notes. Don't you admire it strangely?

Mal. I'll assure your ladyship I learnt it of an Irish musician that's lately come over, and intend to present it to an author of my acquaintance, to put it in his next play.

Lady Squ. Ha, ha, Mr. Valentine! I would have you learn it for a serenade to your mistress—ha, ha, ha!

Val. My page, madam, is docible, and has a pretty voice, he shall learn it, if you please; and if your ladyship has further service for himany