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Hum. Sirrah, who do you prate after-de-loperas, and ridottoes, for the winter; the Parks spising men of sacred characters? I hope you and Bellsize for our summer diversions; and, never heard my young master talk so like a "Lard!" says she, "you are so wild, but you profligate?
have a world of humour." Tom. Sir, I say you put upon me, when I Hum. Coxcomb! Well, but why don't you first came to town, about being orderly, and run with your master's letter to Mrs. Lucinda, the doctrine of wearing shams to make linen as he order'd you? last clean a fortnight, keeping my clothes fresh, Tom. Because Mrs. Lucinda is not so easily and wearing a frock within doors.
come at as you think for. Hum. Sirrah, I gave you those lessons be- Hum. Not easily come at? Why, sir, are cause I supposed at that time your master not her father and my old master agreed that and you might have dined at home every day, she and Mr. Bevil are to be one flesh before and cost you nothing; then you might have to-morrow morning? made a good family servant: but the gang Tom. It's no matter for that: ber molber, you have frequented since at chocolate-houses it seems, Mrs. Sealand, has not agreed to it; and taverns, in a continual round of noise and you must know, Mr. Humphrey, that in and extravagance
that family the grey mare is the better horse ?). Tom. I don't know what you heavy in- Huin. What dost thou mean? mates call noise and extravagance; but we Tom. In one word, Mrs. Sealand pretends gentlemen who are well fed and cut a figure, to bave a will of her own, and has provided sir, think it a fine life, and that we must be a relation of hers, a stiff-starched philosopber, very pretty fellows who are kept only to be and a wise fool, for her daughter; for which looked at.
reason, for these ten days past, she has sufHum. Very well, sir, I hope the fashion offered no message or leiter from my master being lewd and extravagant, despising of de- to come near her. cency and order, is almost at an end, since Hum. And where had you this intelligence! it is arrived at persons of your quality
Tom. From a foolish fond soul, that can Tom. Master Humphrey, ka, ha! you were keep nothing from me; one that will deliver an unhappy lad to be sent up to town in this letter too, if she is rightly managed. such queer days as you were. Why now, Hum. What, her pretty bandmaid, Mrs. sir, the lackeys are the men of pleasure of Phillis? the age, the top gamesters; and many a laced) Tom. Even she, sir. This is the very bour, coat about town have had their education in you know, she usually comes bither, under a our party-coloured regiment. We are false pretence of a visit to our housekeeper forsooth, lovers, have a taste of music, poetry, billet- but in reality to have a glance at doux, dress, politics, ruin damsels; and when Hum. Your sweet face, I warraut you. we are weary of this lewd town, and have a Tom. Nothing else in nature. You must mind to take up, whip into our masters' wigs, know I love to fret and play with the lule and marry fortunes.
wanton. Hum. Hey-day!
Hum. Play with the little wanton! What Tom. Nay, sir, our order is carried up to will this world come to? the highest dignities and distinctions: step but Tom. I met her this morning in a new into the Painted Chamber, and by our litles manteau and petticoal, not a bit the worse you'd take us all for men of quality! then for her lady's wearing, and she has always again, come down to the Court of Requests, new thoughts and new airs with new clothes; and you shall see us all laying our broken then she never fails to steal some glance or heads together for the good ofthe nation; and gesture from every visitant at their house, and though we never carry a question nemine is indeed the whole town of coquelles al secontradicente, yet this I can say with a safe cond-hand. But here she comes; in one motion conscience (and I wish every gentleman of she speaks and describes herself better than our cloth could lay bis hand upon his heart all the words in the world can. and say the same), that I never took so much Hum. Then I hope, dear sir! when your as a single mug of beer for my vote in all own affair is over, you will be so good as to my life.
mind your master's with ber. Hum. Sirrah, there is no enduring your Tom Dear llumphrey! you know my master extravagance; I'll hear you prate no longer: is my friend; and those are people I never forgel. I wanted to see you to inquire how things Hum. Sauciness itsell: but I'll leave you to go with your master, as far as you under- do your best for him, stand them. I suppose he knows he is to be married lo-day?
Enter Puliliis. Tom. Ay, sir, he knows it, and is dressed! Phil. Oh, Mr. Thomas, is Mrs. Sugarkey as gay as the sun; but between you and I, at home? Lard! one is almost ashamed to my dear! he has a very heavy heart under all pass along the streets. The town is quite that gaiety. As soon as he was dressed l empty, and nobody of fashion left in it; and retired, but overheard him sigh in the most the ordinary people do so stare to see any heavy manner. He walked thoughtfully to and thing dress'd like a woman of condition pass fro in the room, iben went into his closet: by. Alas! alas! it is a sad thing to walk. Oh, when he came out he gave me this for his fortune, fortune! mistress, whose maid you know
Tom. What! a sad thing to walk? Why, Hum. Is passionately fond of your fine person. madam Phillis, do you wish yourself lame!
Tom. The poor sool is so tender, and loves Phil. No, Mr. Thomas; but I wish I were to hear me talk of the world, and the plays,! 1) The lady is masier in the family.
generally carried in a cuach or a chair, and hands. [He pulls out a Purse, she eyes it. if a fortune neither to stand nor go, but to Phil. What pretence have I to what is in otter or slide, to be shortsighted or stare, to your hands, Mr. Thomas ? leer in the face, to look distant, to observe, Tom. As thus: there are hours you know o overlook, yet all become me; and if I was when a lady is neither pleased nor displeased, ich I could iwire and loll as well as the best neither sick nor well, when she lolls or loiters, if them. Ob, Tom, Tom! is it not a pity that when she is without desires, from having more ou should be so great a coxcomb, and I so of every thing than she knows what to do with. sreat a coquette, and yet be such poor devils Phil. Well, what then? IS we are?
Tom. When she has not lise enough to Tom. Mrs. Phillis, I am your humble servant keep her bright eyes quite open to look at or that.
her own dear image in the glass. Phil. Yes, Mr. Thomas, I know how much Phil. Explain thyself, and don't be so fond ou are my humble servant, and know what of thy own prating. ou said to Mrs. Judy, upon seeing her in Tom. There are also prosperous and goodone of her lady's cast manteaus--that any one natured moments; as when a knot or a patch would have thought her the lady, and that is happily fixed, when the complexion partihe had ordered the other to wear it till it sat cularly flourishes. 'asy (for now only it was becoming); to my Phil. Well, what then? I have not patience! ady it was only a covering, to Mrs. Judy it Tom. Why then, or on the like occasions was a habit. This you said after somebody we servants who have skill to know how to or other. Oh, Torn, Tom! thou art as false time business, see when such a pretty folded ind as base as the best gentleman of them all: thing as this [Shows a Letter] may be prebut you, wretch! talk to me no more on the sented, laid, or dropped, as best suits the preold odious subject: don't, I. say.
sent humour. And, madam, because it is a Tom. I know not how to resist your com- long wearisome journey to run through all mands, madam.
the several stages of a lady's temper, my master, [In a submissive Tone, retiring. who is the most reasonable man in the world, Phil. Commands about parting are grown presents you this to bear your charges on the mighty easy to you of late.
(Gives her the Purse. Tom. Oh, I have her! I have nettled and Phil. Now you think me a corrupt bussy. put her into the right temper to be wrought Tom. O fie! I only think you'll take ibe letter. upon and set a prating. [Aside] Why, truly, Phil. Nay, I know you do; but I know my o be plain with you, Mrs. Phillis, I can take own innocence: I take it for my mistress's sakė, little comfort of late in frequenting your house. Toin. I know it, my prelty one! I know it.
Phil. Pray, Mr. Thomas, what is it all of a Phil. Yes, I say I do it because I would sudden offends your nicety at our house? not have my mistress deluded by one who
Tom. I don't care to speak particulars, but gives no proof of his passion: but I'll talk [ dislike the whole.
more of this as you see me on my way home. Phil. I thank you, sir; I am a part of that No, Tom; I assure thee I take this trash of whole.
thy master's, not for the value of the thing, Tom. Mistake me not, good Phillis. but as it convinces me he has a true respect
Phil. Good Phillis! saucy enough. But, for my mistress. I remember a verse to the however
purposeTom. I say it is that thou årt a part which They may be false who languish and complain, gives me pain for the disposition of the whole.| But they who part with money never feign. You must know, madam, to be serious, I am
[Exeunt. a man at the bottom of prodigious nice honour. You are too much exposed to com
Scere II.-Bevil's Lodgings. pany at your house. To be plain, I don't like so many, that would be your mistress's lovers,
Bevil discovered, reading. whispering to you.
1 Bevil. These moral writers practise virtue Phil. Don't think to put that upon me. You after death. This charming vision of Mirza!say this because I wrung you to the heart such an author consulted in a morning sets when I touched your guilty conscience about the spirits for the vicissitudes of the day better Judy.
than the glass does a man's person. But what l'om. Ah, Phillis, Phillis! if you but knew a day have I to go through! to put on an my heart!
easy look with an aching heart! If this lady Phil. I know too much on't.
my father urges me to marry should not reTom. Don't disparage your charms, good fuse me, my dilemma is insupportable. But Phillis, with jealousy of so worthless an ob- why sbould I fear it? is noi she in equal ject; besides she is a poor hussy; and if you distress with me? has not the letter I have doubt the sincerity of my love, you will allow sent her this morning, confessed my inclination me true to my interest. You are a fortune, to another? nay, have I not moral assurances Phillis
of her engagements too to my friend Myrlle? Phil. What would the fop be at now? It's impossible but she must give in to it; for [Aside In good time indeed you shali be sure to be denied is a favour any man may setting up for a fortune.
pretend to. It must be so. Well then, with Tom. 'Dear Mrs. Phillis! you have such a ihe assurance of being rejected, I think I may spirit, that we shall never be dull in marriage confidently say to my father I am ready to when we come together. But I tell you you marry her; then let me resolve upon (what I are a fortune, and you have an estate in mylam not very good at) an honest dissimulation. Enter Tom.
,and I know his violent inclinations for the Tom. Sir John Bevil, sir, is in the next room. match; I must betray neither, and yet deceive Bevil. Dunce! why did you not bring him in? you both, for your common good. Heaven
Tom. I told him, sir, you were in your closct. grant a good end of this matter: but there is · Bevil. I thought you had known, sir, it was a lady, sir, that gives your falher much trouble my duty to see my father any where. and sorrow. You'll pardon me.
[Going himself to the Door. Bevil. Humphrey, I know thou art a friend Tom. The devil's in my master! he has al- to both, and in that confidence I dare tell thee. ways more wit than I have. [Aside. That lady-is a woman of honour and virtue.
You may assure yourself I never will marry Enter Sir John Bevil., introduced by Bevil without my father's consent; but give me leave
Bevil. Sir, you are the most gallant, the to say too, this declaration does not come up most complaisant of all parents. Sure 'tis not to a promise that I will take whomsoever be a compliment to say these lodgings are yours. pleases. Why would you not walk in, sir?
| Hum. My dear master! were I but worthy Sir J. I was loath to interrupt you unsea-to know this secret that so near concerns you, sonably on your wedding-day.
my life, my all, should be engaged to serve Becil. One to whom I ani beholden for my you. This, sir, I dare promise, that I am sure birthday might have used less ceremony. I will and can be secret: your trust at worst
Sir J. Well, son, I have intelligence you but leaves you where you were; and if I canhave writ to your mistress this morning. Il not serve you, I will at once be plain, and would please my curiosity to know the con- tell you so. tents of a wedding-day letter, for courtship! Bevil. That's all I ask. Thou hast made it must theu be over.
now my interest to trust thee. Be patient Bevil. I assure you, sir, there was no in-then, and hear the story of my heart. solence in it, upon the prospect of such a vast Hum. I am all attention, sir. fortune's being added to our family, but much! Bevil. You may remember, Humphrey, that acknowledgment of the lady's great desert. in my last travels my father grew uneasy at
Sir J. But, dear Jack, "are you in earnest my making so long á stay at Toulon. in all this? and will you really marry her? | Hum. I remember it; he was apprehensive
Bevil. Did I ever disobey any command of some woman had laid hold of you. yours, sir? nay, any inclination that I saw Bevil. His fears were just; for there I first you bent upon?' If the lady is dressed and saw this lady: she is of English birth: ber ready, you see I am. I suppose the lawyers father's name was Danvers, a younger brother are ready too.
of an ancient family, and originally an em:
nent merchant of Bristol, who upon repeated Enter FIUMPHREY.
missorlunes was reduced to go privately to the Hum. Sir, Mr. Sealand is at the coffee- Indies. In this retreat, Providence again gres house, and has sent to speak with you. favourable to his industry, and in six years
Sir J. Oh! that's well! then I warrant the time restored him to bis foriner fortunes, On lawyers are ready. Son, you'll be in the way, this he sent directions over that his wife and you say.
little family should follow him to the Indies Bevil. If you please, sir, I'll take a chair His wife, impatient to obey such welcome and go to Mr. Sealand's; where the young orders, would not wait the leisure of a conlady and I will wait your leisure.
voy ?), but took the first occasion of a single Sir J. By no means; the old fellow will be ship; and with her husband's sister only and so vain if he sees
this daughter, then scarce seven years old Bevil. Ay; but the young lady, sir, will undertook the fatal voyage; for here, poer think me so indifferent
creature, she lost her liberty and life: she and Hum. Ay, there you are right. Press your her family, with all they had, were unfortureadiness to go to the bride-he won't let you. nately taken by a privateer from Toulos.
Apart to Bevil. Being thus made a prisoner, though as such Bevil. Are you sure of that?
not iil-treated, yet the fright, the shock, and [Apart to Humphrey. the cruel disappointment, seized with such Hum. How he likes being prevented! [ Aside. violence upon her unhealthy frame, that she
Sir J. No, no; you are an hour or two too sickened, pined, and died at sea. early; [Looking on his Watch) besides, this Hum. Poor soul! Oh, the helpless infaut! Scaland is a moody old fellow. There's no Bevil. Her sister yet survived, and had the dealing with some people, but by managing care of her: the captain too proved to have with indifference. We must leave to him the humanity, and became a father to her; for conduct of this day; it is the last of his com- baring married himself an English womat, manding his daughter.
and being childless, he brought home into Bevil. Sir, he can't take it ill that I am im Toulon this her little countrywoman, this orpatient to be hers.
phan I may call her, presenting her with all Sir J. Well, son, I'll go myself and take her dead mother's moveables.of value to his orders in your affair. You'll be in the way wife, to be educated as his own adopted I suppose, if I send to you: I leave your old daughter. friend with you. Humphrey, don't let him Hum. Fortune here seemed again to smile stir, d'ye hear. Your servant, your servant. On her.
[Erit. Hum. I have a sad time on't, sir, between
sailing together in a great Qumber, make what is called you and my master; I see you are unwilling, convoy.
Aship of war lo protect the merchant-yessels,
Bevil. Only to make her frowns more ter-1 Bevil. Whenever he pleases - Hold, Tom; rible; for in his beight of fortune this captain did you receive no answer to my letter? too, her benefactor, unfortunately was killed Tom. Sir, I was desired to call again; for at sea; and dying intestate, his estate fell wholly I was told her mother would not let her be to an advocate, bis brother, who coming soon out of her sight; but about an hour hence to take possession, there found among his Mrs. Phillis said I should have one. other riches this blooming virgin at his mercy.' Bevil. Very well.
Humi. He durst not sure abuse his power?Hum. Sir, I will take another opportunity;
Bevil. No wonder if bis pampered blood in the mean time I only think it proper to was fired at the sight of her. In short he tell you, that from a secret I know, you may loved; but when all arts and gentle means appear to your father as forward as you please had failed to move, be offered too bis menaces to marry Lucinda, without the least hazard in vain, denouncing vengeance on her cruelty, of its coming to a conclusion-Sir, your most demanding her to account for all her mainte- obedient servant. nance from her childhood, seized on her little Bevil. Honest Humphrey, continue but my fortune as his own inheritance, and was dragging friend in this exigence, and you shall always her by violence to prison, when Providence find me yours. [Exit Humphrey] I long to at the instant interposed, and sent me, by hear how my letter has succeeded with Lumiracle, to relieve her.
cinda.-Poor Myrtle! what terrors must he be Hum. 'Twas Providence indeed! But pray, in all this while!-Since he knows she is ofsir, after all this trouble, how came this lady fered to me, and refused to him, there is no at last to England ?
conversing or taking any measures with him Bevil. The disappointed advocate, finding for his own service. But I ought to bear she bad so unexpected a support, on cooler with my friend, and use him as one in adversity. thoughts descended to a composition, which All bis disquietudes by my own I prove, I without her knowledge secretly discharged. For none exceeds perplexity in love. Exeunt.
Hum. That generous concealment made the obligation double.
ACT II. Bevil. Having thus obtained her liberly, I
SCENE I.-The same. prevailed, not without some difficulty, to see her safe to England; where we no sooner ar
Enter Bevil and Tom. rived but my father, jealous of my being im-1 Tom. Sir, Mr. Myrtle. prudently engaged, immediately proposed this Bevil. Very well. Do you step again, and other fatal match that hangs upon my quiet. wait for an answer to my letter. [Eirit Tom.
Hum. I find, sir, you are irrecoverably fixed upon this lady.
Enter MYRTLE. Bevil. As my vital life dwells in my heart; Well, Charles, why so much care in thy and yet you see wbat I do to please my father; countenance? is there any thing in this world walk in this pageantry of dress, this splendid deserves it? you who used to be so gay, so, covering of sorrow. But, Humphrey, you have open, so vacant! your lesson.
*Myr. I think we have of late chang'd comHum. Now, sir, I have but one material plexions: you, who us'd to be much the gravet question.
man, are now all air in your behaviour.'Bevil. Ask it freely.
. But the cause of sny concern may, for aught Hum. Is it then your own passion for this I know, be the same object that gives you all secret lady, or hers for you, that gives you this satisfaction. In a word, I am told that this aversion to the maich your father has you are this very day (and your dress conproposed you?
firms me in it) to be married to Lucinda. Bevil. I shall appear, Humpbrey, more ro-! Bevil. You are not misinformed.-Nay, pul mantic in my answer than in all the rest of not on the terrors of a rival till you hear me my story; for though I dote on her to death, out. I shall disoblige the best of fathers if I and have no little reason to believe she has don't seem ready to marry Lucinda; and you the same thoughts for me, yet in all my ac- know I have ever told you, you might make quaintance and utmost privacies with her I use of my secret resolution never to marry never once directly told her that I loved her for your own service as you please; but
Huin. How was it possible to avoid it? I am now driven to the extremity of imme
Bevil. My tender obligations to my father diately refusing or complying, unless you help have laid so inviolable a restraint upon my me to escape the match. conduct, that till I have bis consent to speak, Myr. Escape, sir! neither her merit nor her I am determined on that subject to be dunib fortune are below your acceptance.-Escaping, for ever.-An honourable retreat shall always do you call it? be at least within my power, however fortune Bevil. Dear sir! do you wish I should demay dispose of me; "the lady may repine sire the match? perbaps, but never shall reproach me.
Myr. No – but such is my humorous and Hum. Well, sir, to your praise be it spoken, sickly state of mind, since it has been able to you are certainly the most unfashionable lover relish nothing but Lucinda, ibat, though I must in Great Britain.
owe my bappiness to your aversion to this
marriage, I can't bear to hear her spoken of Re-enter Tom.
with levity or unconcern, Tom. Sir, Mr. Myrtle's at the next door, Bevil. "Pardon me, sir, I shall transgress and if you are at leisure, would be glad to that way no more. She has understanding, wait on you.
beauty, shape, complexion, wit,
Myr. Nay, dear Bevil, don't speak of her asMyr. As how, pray ? if you loved her neither.
Bevil. Why, can't you slip on a black wig Bevil. Why then, to give you ease at once, and a gown, and be old Bramble yourself? though I allow Lucinda to have good sense, Myr. Ha! I don't dislike it. But what shall wit, beauty, and virtue, I know another in I do for a brother in the case? whom these qualities appear to me more amiable Bevil. Whal think you of my fellow Tom? than in her.
The rogue's intelligent, and is a good mimic; Myr. There you spoke like a reasonable all his part will be but to stutter heartily, for and goodnatured friend. When you acknow-that's old Target's case.- Nay, it would be an ledge her merit, and own your prepossession immoral thing to mock him, were it not that for another, at once you gratify my fondness, bis impatience is the occasion of its breaking and cure ny jealousy.
out to that degree.— The conduct of the scene Bevil. But all this while you take no notice, will chiefly lie upon you. you have no apprehension of another man thail Myr. I like it of all things; if you'll send has twice the fortune of either of us. Tom to my chambers, I will give him full
Myr. Cimberton? Hang him, a formal, phi- instructions. This will certainly give me oclosophical, pedantic coxcomb! - for the sot,casion to raise dilliculties, to puzzle or conwith all these crude notions of divers things, found her project for awbile ai least. under the direction of great vanity, and veryl Becil. I warrant you success; so far we little judgment, shows his strongest bias is are right then. And now, Charles, your apavarice; which is so predominant in him, that prehension of my marrying her is all you he will examine the limbs of his mistress with have to get over. the caution of a jockey, and pays no more Myr. Dear Bevil! though I know you are compliment to her personal charms than if my friend, yet, when I abstract myself from she were a mere breeding animal.
iny own interest in the thing, I know no obBevil. Are you sure that is not affected ? Ijection she can make to you, or you to her, I have known some women sooner set on and therefore hopefire by that sort of negligence, than by all the Bevil. Dear Myrile! I am as much obliged blaze and ceremony of a court.
| 1o you for the cause of your suspicion, as I Myr. No, no, hang him! the rogue has no am offended at the effect; but be assured I art; it is, pure simple insolence and stupidity. am taking measures for your certain security,
Bevil. Yet will all this I don't take bin and that all things with regard to me wil for a fool.
end in your entire satisfaction. Myr. I own the man is not a valural; hc Myr.'Well, I'll promise you to be as easy bas a very quick sense, though a very slow and as confident as I can though I cannot understanding; he says indeed many things but remember that I have more than life at that want only the circumstances of time and stake on your fidelity
(Going · place to be very just and agreeable.
Bevil. Then depend upon it you bave no Bevil. Well, you may be sure of me if you chance against you. can disappoint bim; but my intelligence says, Myr. Nay, nó ceremony; you know I must the mother has actually sent for the con- be going. veyancer to draw articles for his marriage Bevil. Well, this is another instance of the with Lucinda, though those for mine with her perplexities which arise too in failbful friendare, by her father's order, ready for signing; ship. But all this while poor Indiana is torbut it seems she has not thought fit to con- lured with ibe doubt of me. I'll take this op sult either him or his daughter in the matter. I portunity to visit her; for though the religious
Myr. Pshaw! a poor troublesome woman! I vow I hare made to my father restrains the Neither Lucinda nor her father will ever be from ever marrying without his approbation, brought to comply with it; besides, I am sure yet that contines me not from seeing a virtuous Cimberton can make no settlement upon her woinani, that is the pure delight of my eyes without the concurrence of his greai uncle, and the guiltless joy of my heart. But the sir Geoffry, in the west.
|best condition of human life is but a gentler Bevil. Well, sir, and I can tell you that's misery. the very point that is now laid before her To hope for perfect happiness is rain, counsel, to know whether a firm seltlement And love has ever its allays of pain. (Eril can be made without this uncle's actually joining in it.-Now, pray consider, sir, when
Scene II.-Indiana's Lodgings. my affair with Lucinda comes, as it soon must,
Enter Isabella and INDIANA. to an open rupture, how are you sure thail Isa. Yes I say 'tis artifice, dear child!! Cimberton's fortune may not then tempt her say to thee, again and again, 'tis all skill and father too lo bear his proposals?
management. Myr. There you are right indeed; that must! Ind. Will you persuade me there can be be provided against.-Do you know who are an ill design in supporting me in the cong her counsel?
tion of a woman of quality; allended, dress Bevil. Yes, for your service, I have found and lodg'd like one in my appearance abre out that too; they are sergeant Bramble and and my furniture at home every way in old Targel.-By ihe way, ihey are neither of most sumpluous manner; and he that does 'em known in the family; now I was thinking has an ariilice, a design in it? why you might nol put a couple of false Isa. Yes, yes. counsel upon her, to delay and confound matters Ind. And all this without so much as es a little; besides, it may probably let you into plaining to me that all about me comes the bottom of her whole design against you. bim.