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lind me.

gue as himself,

Don P. Thai, sir, shall be no lett; I am too sued, and carried with this kind surprise at well acquainted with the virtue of my friend's last, gives me wonder equal to my joy. title, to entertain a thought that can disturb it. Hyp. Here's one that at more leisure shall

Hyp. Now, sir, it only stops at you. inform you all : she was ever a friend to your Don M. Well, sir, I see the paper is only love, has had a hearly share in the fatigue

, conditional, and since the general welfare is and now I am bound in honour to give her concern'd, I won't refuse to lend you my help- part of the garland too. ing hand to it; but if you should not make Don P. liow! she! your words good, sir, I hope you won't take Flora. Trusty Flora, sir, at your service! I it ill if a man should poison you.

have had many a battle with my lady upon Don P. And, sir, let me too warn you how your account; but I always told her should you execute this promise; your flatiery and do her business at last.» dissembled penitence bas deceiv'd me once Don M. Another metamorphosis! Brave girls, already, which makes me, I confess, a little faith! Odzooks, we shall have 'em make camslow in my belief; therefore take heed, expect paigns shortly: no second mercy! for be assured of this, I Don P. In Seville I'll provide for thec. never can forgive a villain.

Hyp. Nay, bere's anoiher accomplice too, Hyp. If I am proved one spare me not-1 confederate I can't say; for honest Trappanti ask but this–Use me as you

did not know but that I was as great a roDon P. That you may depend on. Don M. There, sir.

Trap. It's a folly to lie; I did not indeed, [Gives Hypolita the Writing, signed. madam. But the world cannot say I have Hyp. And now, don Pbilip, I confess you been a rogue to your ladyship - and if you are the only injured person here.

had not parted with your moneyDon P. I know not thai-do

friend right,

Hyp, Thou hadst not parted with thy honesty. and I shall easily forgive thee.

Trap. Right, madam; but how should a Hyp. His pardon, with his thanks, I am poor naked fellow resist when he had so many sure I shall deserve: but how shall I forgive pistoles held against him? [Shows Money. myself? Is there in nature left a means that Don M. Ay, ay, well said, lad. can repair the shameful slights, the insults, l'il. Ea? A tempting bail indeed! let him and the long disquiets you have known from offer to marry me again if he dares. [Aside. love ?

Don P. Well, Trappanti

, thou has been Don P. Let me understand thee.

serviceable, however, and I'll think of thee. Hyp. xamine well your heart, and if the Oct. Nay, I am his debtor too. fierce resentment of its wrongs has not extin- Trap. Ah! there's a very easy way, gen. guished quite the usual soft compassion there, tlemen, to reward me; and since you partly revive at least one spark in pity of my wo- owe your happiness to my roguery, I should man's weakness.

be very proud to owe mine only lo your geDon P. Whither wouldst thou carry me? Oct. As how, pray?

[nerosity Hyp. The extravagant attempt i bave this Trap. Why, si., 'I sind by, my constitution, day run through to meet you thus, justly may that it is as natural to be in love as to be hunsubject me 10 your contempt and scorn, unless gry, and that I han't a jot less stomach than the same forgiving goodness that used to over- the best of my belters; and though I have ostlook the failings of Hypolita, prove still my en thought a wise but dining every day upon friend, and solien all with the excuse of love. the same dish; yet methinks it's better than [All seem amazed] 0 Philip-Hypolita is- no dinner at all. Upon which considerations, yours for ever. [They advance slowly, and gentlemen and ladies, I desire you'll use your

at last rush into one another's Arms, interest with Madona here-Tó admit me into Don P. It is, it is, Hypolita! And yet 'tis her good graces. she! I know her by the busy pulses at my Don M. a pleasant rogue, faith! Odzooks, beart, which only love like mine can feel, and the jade shall have him. Come, hussy, he's she alone can give. [Embraces her eagerly. an ingenious person.

Don M. Have I then been pleased, and pla- Vil. Sir, I don't understand bis stuff; when gued, and frighted out of my wits, by a wo- he speaks plain I know what to say to dim. man all this wbile? Odsbud, she is a notable Trap. Why then, in plain terms, let me a contriver! Stand clear, ho! For if I have not lease for lise.—Marry me. a fair brush at her lips; nay, if she does not Vil. Ay, now you say something- I was give me the hearty smack too, odds-winds and afraid, by what you said in the garden, you ihunder, she is not the good-humour'd girl I had only a mind to be a wicked tenant at will. take her for,

Trap. No, no, child, I have no mind to be Hyp. Come, sir, I won't balk your good turn'd out at a quarter's warning. humour. [He kisses her] And now I have a Vil. Well, there's my hand-And now meet favour to beg of you; you remember your me

as you will with a canonical promise: only your blessing here, sir. lawyer, and I'll give you possession of the [Octavio and Rosara kneel

. rest of the premises. Don M. Ah! can deny thee nothing; and Don M. Odzooks, and well thought of, I'll so, children, heaven bless ye together-And send for one presently. Here, you, sirrah, run now my cares are over again.

lo father Benedick again, tell' bim his work Oct. We'll study to deserve your love, sir. don't hold here, his last marriage is dropp'd

Don P. My friend successful too! Then my to pieces; but now we have got better tackle, joys are double-But how this generous al- he must come and stitch two or three fresh tempt was started first, how it has been pur-couple together as fast as he can.



Don P. Now, my Hypolita!

10! never let a virtuous mind despair, Let our example teach mankind to love; For constant hearts are love's peculiar care. From thine the fair their favours may improve:


GEORGE COLMAN Was the sun of Francis Colman, Esq., His Majesty's resident at the court of the Grand Duke of 'Tuscany ai Florence, by a sister of the Countess of Bath. He was born at Florence about 1753, and had the honour of having king George the Second for his godfather. He received his education at Westminster School, where he very early showed his poetical talents. The first performance by him was a copy of verses addressed to his cousin Lord Pulteney, written in the year 1747, while he was at Weslininster, and since printed in The St. Jame's Magazine, a work published by his unsorianale friend, Robert Lloyd. From Westminster School be removed 10 Oxford, and became a student of Christchurch. It was there, at a very early age, that he engaged with his friend Bonnel Thornton, in publishing The Connoisseur, a periodical paper which appeared once a week, and was continued from Jan. 51. 1754. to Sept. 30. 1756, When the age of the writers of this entertaining paper is considered, the wit and humour, the spirit, the good sense and shrewd observations on life and manners, with which it abounds, will excite some degree of wonder; but will, at the same time, evidently point out the extraordinary talents which were alterwards to be more fully displayed in The Jealous Wife and The Clundestine Marriage. The recommendalion of his friends, or his chuire, but probably tho former, induced bim to fix upon the law for his profession; and was accordingly entered at Lincoln's Inn, and in due season called to the bar. He altended there a very short time; though, if our recollection does not mislead us, lie was seen often enough in the courts to prevent the sopposition of his abandoning the profession merely for want of encouragement. On the 18th of March 1758, he took the degree ef Master of aris at Oxford ; and in the year 1760 his first dramatic piece, Polly Honeycomb, was acted at Drury Lane, with great success. For several years before, the comic Muse seemed to have relinquished the stage, No comedy had been produced al either theatre since the year 1751, when Moore's Gil Blas was with diffuuliy performed nine nigts. In July 1764 Lord Bath died; and on that event Mr. Colman found himself in circunstances fully sufficient to enable him to follow the bent of his genius. The first publication which he produced, after this seriod, was a translation in blank verse of the comedies oi Terence, 1705 ; and whoever would wisli to see the spirit of an aucient bard transfused into the English language, inust look for it in Mr. Colman's version. The successor o! Lord Balh, General Pulteney, died in 1767; and Mr. Culuan again found himself remembered in his will, by a second annuity, which confirmed the independency of his fortune, however, to liave sell no charms in an idle life; as, in 1967, he united with Messrs. Harris, Rutherford, and Powell, in the purchase of Covent Garden Theatre, and took upon himself the laborious office of acting manager. After continuing manager of Covent Garden Theatre seven years, "Mr. Colman_sold his share and interest therein to Mr. James Leake, one of bis then partners; and, in 1777, purchased of Mr. Foote the Little Theatre in the Haymarket. The estimation in which the entertainments exhibited under his direction were held by the public, the reputation which the theatre acquired, and the continual concourse of the polite world during the height of summer, sufficiently spoke the praises of Mr. Colman's management. Indeed, it has been long admilied, that no person, since the death of Mr. Garrick, was so able to superintend the entertainments of the stage as the subject of this account. About the year 1785 Mr. Colman gave the public a new translation of, and commentary on, Horace's Art of Poetry ; in which he produced a new system to explain this very difficult soem. In opposition to Dr. Hurd, he supposed, “llial one of the sons of Piso, undoubledly the elder, hal either written or mediated poetical work, most probably a tragedy; and that lic had, with the knowledge of the family, communicated his piece or intention to Horace. But Horace either dissa proving of the work, ur doubling of the poetical faculties of the elder Pisn, or both, vished lo dissuade him from all ihwazlit of publication. With this view he formed the design of writing this epistle; addressing it, with a contriliness and deliczey perfectly agreeable to his acknowledged character, indifferently to the whole family, the father and his iwo sons, Epistola ad Pisones de arte Puetica." This hypothesis is supported with much learning, ingenuity, and modesty; and, if not fully established, is at least as well entitled to applause as that adopted by the Bishop of Worcester. On the publication of the Hurac , the Bishop said 10 Dr. Douglas, "Give my compliments to Colman, and thank him for the handsome manner in which he has treated me; and tell him, that I think he is righi" Mr. Colman died at Paddington, on the 14th of August 1794, at the age of 62. A few hours before his death he was scized with violeal spasms; and these were succeeded by a melancholy slupor, in which he drew his last breath.

He secs,


Com. by Geo. Colinan, 1761. This piece made its appearance at Drury Lane with prodigious success. The ground work or it is derived from Fielding's Ilistory of Tom Jones, at the period of Sophia's taking refuge at Lady Bellaston's house. The characters borrowed from that work, however, only serve as a kind of underplot to introduce Nir, and Mrs. Oakley, viz. tbe Jealous Wife and her husband, Il must be confessed, that the passions of the lady are here worked up to a very great height; and Mr. Oakley's vexation and domestic misery, in consequence of her behaviour, are very strongly supported. Yet, perhaps, the author would have better answered his purpose with respect to the passion he intended to expose the absurdity of, had lie made her appear somewhat less of the virago, and Mr. Oakley not so much of the henpecked husband; since she now appears rather a lady, who, from a consciousness of her own power, is desirous of supporting the appearance of jealousy, lo procure her an indue influence over her husband and family, thau one, who, feeling he reality of that turbulent yet fluctuating passion, tecomes equally absurd in the suddenness of forming ngjast suspicions, and in that hastiness of being satisfied, which love, the only true basis of jealousy, will constantly Occasion. When this play was originally acted, it was remarked, that the scene of Mrs. Oakley's hysteric fils borea near resemblance to the like situation or Mrs. Termagant in 'The Squire of Alsalia. Mr. Colman has been accused of a misnomer in calling it The Jealous Wife; Mrs. Oakley being totally destitute of that delicacy, which some consider necessary to constitule jealousy. Blany exceptions might be taken to the characters in this picce-that of Lady Freeloré is perbaps loo odious for the stage, while that ni Captain O'Cutter does little hunour to the navy. The play, however, upon the whole, boasis more than an ordinary share of merit.






her miseries.- How unfortunalc a woman am ACT I.

I!-I could die with vexationScene. I.-A Room in Oaxle's House.

[Throwing herself into a Chair.

Oak. There it is-Now dare not I stir a [Noise heurd within. step further-If I offer to go, she is in one of Nirs. 0. [Within] Don't tell me-1 know hier fits in an instant-Never sure was woit is so-It's monstrous, and I will not bear it. man at once of so violent and so delicate a Onk. [Within] But, my dear! -

constitution! What shall I say to sooth her? Mrs. O. Nay, nay, etc. (Squabbling within. [Aside] Nay, never make thyself so uneasy,

my dear-Come, come, you know I love you. Enter Mrs. Oakly, with a Letler, followed

Mrs. 0. I know you hate me; and that

your by OAKLY.

unkindness and barbarity will be the death of Mrs. O. Say what you will, Mr. Oakly, you me.

[Whining shall never persuade me but ibis is some filthy Oak. Do not rex yourself at this rale] intrigue of yours.

love you most passionately-Indeed I doOak. I can assure you, my love

This must be some mistake.
Mrs. (). Your love!-Don't I know your- Mrs. O, Oh, I am an unhappy woman!

say, this instant, every circumstance

[Weeping relating to this letter.

Oak. Dry up thy tears, my love, and be Oak. How can I tell you, when you will comforted! You will end' that I am not to not so much as let me see it?

blane in this matter-Come, let me see this Mrs. O. Look you, Mr. Oakly, this usage letter-Nay, you shall not deny me. is not to be borné. You take a pleasure in

[Takes the Letter, abusing my tenderness and soft disposition.- Mrs. 0. There! take it; you know the hand, To be perpetually running over the whole I am sure, town, nay, the whole kingdom too, in pursuit Oak. [Reads] To Charles Oakly, Esq.of your amours ! -- Did not I discover that Hand! 'Tis a clerk-like band, a good round you was great with mademoiselle, my own text! and was certainly never penned by a woman ?- Did not you contract a shameful fair lady. familiarity with Mrs. Freeman?-Did not I Mrs.0. Ay, laugh at me, do! detect your intrigue with lady Wealthy?-- Oak. Forgive me, my love, I dit not mean Was not you

to laugh at thee -- But what says the letter ? Oak. Oöns! madam, the grand Turk him- [Reads] Daughter eloped - you must be self has not half so many mistresses-Yo throw privy to it-scandalous-dishonourable-same out of all patience-Do I know any, body tisfaction-revenge-um, um, um - injured but our common friends?-Am I visited by father.

JIENRY Russer. any body that does not visit you?-Do I ever Mrs. 0. [Rising] Well, sir-you see I have go out, unless you go with me?-And am I detected you—Tell me this instant where she not as constantly by your side as if I was is concealed. tied to your apron-sirings ?

Oak. So - 50 — so This hurts me

me - I'm Mrs. O. Go, go; you are a false man-Have shocked.

To himself. not I found you out a thousand times? And Mrs. 0. What, are you confounded with have not I this moment a letter in my hand, your guilt? Have I caught you at last? which convinces me of your baseness?--Let Oak. () that wicked Charles! To decoy a me know the whole affair, or I will- young lady from her parents in the country!

Oak. Let you know! Let me know what the profligacy of the young fellows of this you would have of me - You slop my letter

is abominable.

[To himself. before it comes to my hands, and then expect Mrs. 0. [Half aside, and musing] Charthat I should know the contents of it! les!— Let me see!-Charles!-No!-Impossible!

Mrs. O. Heaven be praised, I stopped it! - This is all a trick. I suspected some of ihese doings for some Oak. He has certainly ruined this poor lady. time pas - But the letter informs me who she

[To himself. is, and I'll be revenged on her sufficiently. Mrs. O. Art! art! all arı! There's a sudden Oh, you base man, you!

turn now! You have ready wit for an intriOak. I beg, my dear, that you would mo- gue, I find. derate your passion !-- Show me the letter, Oak. Such an abandoned action! I wish I and I'll convince you of my innocence. had never bad the care of him.

Mrs. 0. Innocence!— Abonimnable!- Inno- Mrs. 0. Mighty fine, Mr. Oakly! Go on, cence!-But I am not to be made such a fool sir, go on! I see what you mean. Your as-I am convinced of your perlidy, and very surance provokes me beyond your very false

hood itself. So you imaginc, sir, that this afOak. 'Sdeath and fire! your passion hurries sected concern, this flimsy pretence about you out of your senses -- Will you bear me? Charles, is to bring you off

. Matchless conMrs.0. No, you are a base man: and I tidence! But I am armed against every thing will not hear you.

- I am prepared for all your dark schemes: Oak. Why then, my dear, since you will I am aware of all your low stratagens. neither talk reasonably, yourself

, nor listen to

Oak. See there now! Was ever any thing reason from me, I shall take my leave till so provoking? To persevere in your

ridicuyou are in a better humour. So your servant! lous-For heaven's sake, my dear, don't dis

[Going. tract me. When you see my mind thus agiMrs. 0. Ay, go, you cruel man!–Go to tated and uneasy, that a young fellow, whom your mistresses, and leave your poor wife to his dying father, my own brother, committed

sure that


to my care, should be guilty of such enor-think the whole family is made of nothing but mous wickedness; I say, when you are wit- combustibles. ness of my distress on this occasion, how can Oak. I like this emotion; it looks well: il you be weak enough and cruel enough to- may serve too to convince my wife of the

Mrs. 0. Prodigiously well, sir! You do it folly of her suspicions. Would to heaven 1 very well. . Nay, keep it up, carry, it on; could quiet them for ever! there's nothing like going through with it. O, Maj.o. Wby pray now, my dear, naughty you artful creature! Bui, sir, I am not to be brother, whal heinous offence have you comso easily satisfied. I do not believe a syllable milted ibis morning? What new cause of of all this - Give me the letter—[Snatches the suspicion? You have been asking one of the Letter] You shall sorely repent this vile bu- maids to mend your ruffle, I suppose, or have siness, for I am resolved that I will know the been hanging your head out at the window, boltom of it.

[Erit. when a prelty young woman has passed by, Oak. This is beyond all patience. Provok-or-ing woman! Her absurd suspicions interpret Oak. How can you trifle with my distresses, every thing the wrong way. But this ungra- major? Did not I tell you it was about a cious boy! In how many troubles will he letter? involve his own and his lady's family!-I ne- Maj. 0. A letter!-hum—A suspicious cirver imagined that he was of such abandoned cumstance, to be sure! Wbat, and the seal principles.

a trueloyer's knot now, hey? or a heart trans

fixed with darts; or possibly the wax bore Enter MAJOR OAKLY and CHARLES.

the industrious impression of a thimble; or Charles. Good morrow,


perhaps the folds were lovingly connected by Maj.0. Good morrow, brother, good mor- a waler, pricked with a pin, and the direction row!-What! you have been at the old work, written in a, vile scrawl, and not a word spell I find. I heard you-ding! dong! i'faith!- as it should be! ha, ha, ba! She has rung a noble peal in your ears. But Oak. Pooh! brother - Whatever it was, the how now? Why sure you've' bad a remark-letter, you find, was for Charles, not for me able warm bout on't.—You seem more ruffled – this outrageous jealousy is the devil. than usual.

Maj. (). Mere matrimonial blessings and Oak. I am, indeed, brother! Thanks to that domestic comfort, brother! jealousy is a ceryoung gentleman there. Have a care, Charles! tain sign of love. you may be called to a severe account for Oak. Love! it is this very love that hath ihis. The honour of a fam sir, is no such made us both so miserable. Her love for me light matter.

was confined me to my house, like a Charles. Sir!

prisoner, without the liberty, of secing my Maj. O. Hey-day! What, has a curtain lec- friends, or the use of pen, ink, and paper; ture produced a lecture of morality? What while my love for her bas made such a fool is all this?

of me, ihat I have never had the spirit to Oak. To a profligate mind, perhaps, these contradict her. things may appear agreeable in the beginning. Maj. 0. Ay, ay, there you've hit it, Mrs. But don't you tremble at the consequences? Oakly would make an excellent wisc, if you

Charles. I see, sir, that you are displeased did but know how to manage her. with me; but I am quite at a loss to guess Oak. You are a rare fellow indeed to talk at the occasion.

of managing a wife-debauched bachelor Oak. Tell me, sir!-where is miss Harriot -a rattle-brained, rioting fellow-who have Russet ?

picked up your commonplace notions of Charles. Miss Harriot Russel!-Sir-Explain. women in bagnios, taverns, and the camp;

Oak. ilave not you decoyed her from her, whose most refined commerce with the sex father?

has been in order to delude couutry girls at Charles. I!- Decoyed her-- Decoyed my your quarters, or to besiege the virtue of abiHarriot!-I would sooner die than doʻher the gails, onilliners, or mantua-makers' 'prentices. least injury-What can this mean?

Maj. O. So much the better! -so inuch the Maj. 0. I believe ihe young dog has been better! women are all alike in the main, at her, afier all.

brother, high or low, married or single, quality or Oak. I was in hopes, Charles, you had better no quality. I have fonnd them so, fioma duchess principles. But there's a letter just come from down to a milk-maid; every woman is a tyher father

rant at the bottom. But they could never make Charles. A letter!-What letter? Dear sir, a fool of me.- No, no! no woman should give it me. Some intelligence of my Harriot, cver domineer over me, let her be mistress major!—The letter, sir, the letter this mo- or wife. ment, for heaven's sake!

Oak. Single men can be no judges in these Oak. If this warmth, Charles, tends to prove cases. They must happen in all families. But your innocence

when things are driven to extremities—to see Charles. Dear sir, excuse me — I'll prove a woman in uneasiness -a woman one loves any thing-Let me but see this letter, and I'll — 100--one's wife—who can withstand it? You

Oak. Let you see it!-I could hardly get a neither speak nor think like a man that has sight of it myself.. Mrs. Oakly has it. loved and been married, inajor!

Charles. Has she got it? Major, I'll be with Maj. 0. I wish I could hear a married man you again directly

[Exit hastily: speak my language - I'm a bachelor, it's true; Maj. O. Hey-day! The devil's in the boy! but I am np bad judge of your case for all What a fiery set of people! By my troth, I that. I know yours and Mrs. Oakly's dispo

may be fatal.

sition to a hair. She is all impetuosity and my study. I'll go and steal them out, while
fire-a very magazine of touchwood and gun- she is busy talking with Charles.
powder. You are hot enough ino, upon oc- Maj. 0. Steal ihem! for shame! Prythee
casion, but then it's over in an instant. In take them boldly; call for them! make ihem
comes love and conjugal affection, as you call bring them to you here; and go out with
it; that is, mere folly and weakness—and you spirii, in the face of your whole family.
draw off your forces, just when you should Oak. No, no-you are wrong-let her rave
pursue the attack, and follow your advantage. after I am gone, and when I return, you know,
Have at her with spirit, and the day's your I shall exert myself with more propriety, after
own, brother.


affront to her authority. Oak. Why, what would you have me do? Maj. 0. Well, take your own way. Maj. 0. Do as you please for one month, Oak. Ay, ay-let me manage it, let me mawhether she likes it or not: and I'll answer nage it.

[Exit. for it she will consent you shall do as you Maj. O. Manage it! ay, to be sure, you please all her life after. In short, do but show are a rare manager! It is dangerous, they yourself a man of spirit, leave off whining say, to meddle beiween man and wife. I am about love and tenderness, and nonsense, and no great favourite of Mirs. Oakly's already; the business is done, brother.

and in a week's time I espect to have the Oak. I believe you are in the right, major! door shut in my teeth. I see you are in the right. I'll do it-I'll cer

Enter CHARLES. tainly do it. But then it hurts me to the How now, Charles, what news? soul, to think what uneasiness I shall give her. Charles. Ruined and undone! She's gone, The first opening of my design will throw uncle! my Harriot's lost for ever. her into fits, and the pursuit of it, perhaps, Maj. O. Gone off with a man?- I thought

so; they are all alike. Maj. 0. Fits! ha, ha, ha!-I'll engage to Charles. Oh no! Fled to avoid that bateful cure her of her fils. Nobody understands hy- match with sir Barry Beagle. sterical cases better than I do; besides, my Maj. 0. Faith, a girl of spirit; but whence sister's symptoms are not very dangerous. Did comes all this intelligence? you ever bear of her falling into a fit when Charles. In an angry leiter from her father you was not by ?- Was she ever found in -How miserable I am! If I had not offendconvulsions in her closet?-No, no, these fits, ed my Harriot, much offended her, by that the more

care you take of them, the more foolish riot and drinking at your house in the you will increase the distemper: let them country, she would certainly, at such a time, alone, and they will wear themselves out, have taken refuge in my arms. warrant you.

Maj. 0. A very agreeable reluge for a young Oak. True, very true-you are certainly in lady to be sure, and extremely decent! the right—I'll follow your advice. Where do Charles. What a heap of extravagancies you dine to-day?-I'll order the coach, and was I guilty of! go with you.

Maj 0. Extravagancies with a witness! Ah, Maj. 0. O brave! keep up this spirit, and you silly young, dog; you would ruin youryou are made for ever.

self with her father, in spite of all I could do. Oak. You shall see now, major!-Who's There you sat, as drunk'as a lord, telling the there?

old gentleman the whole affair, and swearing

you would drive sir Harry Beagle out of the Enter Servant.

country, though I kept winking and nodding, Order the coach directly. I shall dinc out pulling you by the sleeve, and kicking your to-day.

shins under ihe table, in hopes of stopping Sero. The coach, sir?-Now, sir?

you; but all to no purpose. Oak. Ay, now, immediately.

Charles. What distress may she be in at Sero. Now, sir!-the-the-coach, sir?- this instant! Alone and defenceless !-Where, that is--my mistress

where can she be? Maj. 0. Sirrah! do as you are bid. Bid Maj. 0. What relations or friends has she them put to this instant.

in town? Serv. Ye-yes, sir-yes, sir. [Exit. Charles. Relations! let me - Faith, I Oak. Well, where shall we dine ? hare it!--If she is in town, ten to one bul

Maj. 0. At the St. Albans, or where you she is at her aurt's, lady Freclove's. I'll go will. This is excellent; if you do but hold it. thither immediately.

Oak. I will bave my own way, I am de- Maj. 0. Lady Freelove's! Hold, hold, Chartermined.

les!- do you know her ladyship? Maj. 0. That's right.

Charles. Not much! but I'll break through Oak. I am steel.

all, to get to my flarriot. Maj. O. Bravo!

Maj. 0. I do know her ladyship. Oak. Adamant.

Charles. Well, and whai do you know Maj.O. O Bravissimo!

of her? Oak. Just what you'd have me.

Maj. 0. O, nothing ! --Her ladyship is a Maj. O. Wby that's well said. But will you woman of the world, ihat's alldo it?

Charles. What do you mean? Oak. I will.

Maj. 0. That lady Frcelove is an arraniMaj. 0. You won't.

By-the by, did not she, last summer, make forOak. I will. I'll be a fool to her no longer. mal proposals to Harriot's father from lord But harkye, major, my hat and cane lie in Trinket?


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