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my bonour.

Isa. Ay, ay, the more for that; that keeps themselves more ridiculous; his actions are the title to all you have the more in bim. the result of thinking, and he has sense enough

Ind. The more in him! -- he scorns the to make even virtue fashionable. thought

Isa. Coine, come, if he were the honest Isa. Then he-he-he

fool you take bim for, why, bas be kept you Ind. Well, be not so eager. If he is an here these three weeks, without sending you ill man let's look into his stratagems; here is to Bristol in search of your father, your family, another of them. [ Shows a Letter] Here's and your relations? two hundred and fifty pounds in bank notes. Ind. I am convinced he still designs it; beWhy, dear aunt, now here's another piece of sides, has he not writ to Bristol ? and bas not skill for you, which I own. I cannot combeerlof there almost these twenty years?

be advice that my father has not been heard hend; and it is with a bleeding heart I you say any thing to the disadvantage of Mr. Isa. All sham, mere erasion; he is afraid, Bevil. When he is present I look upon him if he should carry you thither, your honest as one to whom I owe iny life, and the sup-relations may take you out of his hands, and port of it; then again, as ihe man who loves so blow up all his wicked hopes at once. me with sincerity and honour. When his Ind. Wicked hopes! Did I ever give him eyes are cast another way, and I dare survey any such ? him, my heart is painfully divided between Isa. Has he ever given you any honest ones ? shame and love. I say thus it is with me while Can you say in your conscience he has ever I see him; and in his absence, I am enter-once offered to marry, you? tained with nothing but your endeavours to Ind. No; but by his behaviour I am contear this amiable image from my heart, and sinced he will offer it the moment 'tis in his in its stead to place a base dissembler, an art-power, or corsistent with his honour, to make ful invader of my bappiness, my innocence, such a promise good to ine.

Isa. llis honour! Isa. Ah, poor soul! has not his plot laken? Ind. I will rely upon it; therefore desire Don't you die for him? has not ihe way he you will not make my life uneasy, by these has taken been the most proper with you? ungrateful jealousies of one to whom I am Oh, bo! he has sense, and has judged the and wish to be obliged; for from his integrity thing right.

alone I have resolved to hope for happiness. Ind. Go on then, since nothing can answer Isa. Nay, I have done my duty; if you you; say what you will of him.-lleigho! won't see, al your peril be it.

Isa. Heigho! 'indeed. It is better to say so Ind. Let it be. - This is his hour of visiting as you are now,

than as many

others are. me. [Aside) All the rest of my life is but There are among the destroyers of women waiting till he comes: I live only when I'm the gentle, the generous, the mild, the affable, with him.

[Exit. the humble; who all, soon after their success Isa. Well, go thy way, thou wilful innoin their designs, turn to the contrary of those cent! I once had almost as much love for a characters. They embrace without love, they man who poorly left me to marry an estate ; make vows without conscience of obligation; and I am now, against my will, what they they are partners, nay, seducers, to the crime, call an old maid: but I will not let the peewherein they prelend to be less guilty. vishness of that condition grow upon me; only

Ind. That's truly observed. [ Aside] But keep up the suspicion of it to prevent this what's all this to Bevil?

creature's being any other than a virgin, exIsa. This is to Bevil and all mankind. cept upon proper terms.

[Erit. Won't you be on your guard against those who would betray you? won't you doubt those Re-enter Indiana, speaking to a Servant. who would contemn you for believing 'em ?Such is the world, and such (since the beha- Ind. Desire Mr. Beril to walk in.-Design! viour of one man to myself) have I believed impossible! a base, designing mind could neall the rest of the sex.

[Aside. ser think of what he hourly puts in practice; Ind. I will not doubt the truth of Bevil, 1 and yet, since the late rumour of his marriage, will not doubt it; he has not spoken it by an he seems more reserved than formerly; be organ that is given to lying: bis eyes are all sends in too before he sees me, to know if that have ever told me ihat he was mine. I I am at leisure. Such new respect may cover know his virtue, I know bis filial. piety, and coldness in the heart. Il certainly makes me ought to trust his management with a father thoughtful.—I'll know the worst at once. I'll to whom he has uncommon obligations. What lay such fair occasions in his way, that it shall have I to be concerned for? My lesson is very bé impossible to avoid an explanation; for short. If he takes me for ever, my purpose these doubts are insupportable.-But see he of life is only to please him; if he leaves me, comes and clears them all. (which heaven avert!) I know he'll do it nobly; and I shall have nothing to do but to

Enter BEVIL. learn to die, after worse than death has hap- Bevil. Madam, your most obedient. I am pened to me.

afraid I broke in upon your rest last night; Isa. Ay, do persist in your credulity! Natter 'twas very late before we parted; but 'twas yourself ibat a man of his figure and fortune your own fault; I never saw you in such will make himself the jest of the town, and agreeable humour. marry a bandsome beggar for love.

Ind. I am extremely glad we

were both Ind. The town! I must tell you, madam, pleased; for I thought I never saw you beller the fools that laugh at Mr. Bevil will but makelcompany.

Bevil. Me, madam? you rally; I said very naments of the whole creation; to be conlille.

scious that from his supersuity an innocent, Ind. But I am afraid you heard me say a a virtuous spirit is supported above the tempgreat deal; and when a woman is in the talk- tations, the sorrows of life; that be sees sainz vein, the nost agreeable thing a man can tisfaction, health, and gladness in ber coundo, you know, is to have patience to hear her. tenance, while he enjoys the happiness of see

Bevil. Then it's a pity, madam, you sbould ing her (as that I will suppose too, or be ever be silent, that we might be always agree- must be too abstracted, too insensible): I say, able to one another.

if he is allowed to delight in that prospect

, Ind. If I had your talent or power to make alas! what mighly matter is there in all this? my actions speak for me, I might indeed be Ind. No mighty matter in so disinterested silent, and yet prelevd to something more than a fricodship. the agreeable.

Bevil. Disinterested! I can't think him so. Bevil. If I might be vain of any thing in Your hero, madam, is no more than what my power, madam, it is that my understand- every gentleman ought to be, and I believe ing from all your sex has marked you out as very many are: he is only one who takes the most deserving object of my esteem. more delight in reflections than in sensations;

Ind. Should I think I deserve this, it were he is more pleased with thinking than eating, enough to make my vanity forfeit the very that's the utmost you can say of him. Why, esteem you osser me.

madami, a greater expense than all this mer Bevil. How so, madam?

lay out upon an unnecessary stable horses

. Ind. Because esteem is the result of reason; Ind. Can you be sincere in what you say? and to deserve it from good sense the beight Bevil. You may depend upon it, if you of human glory. Nay, I had raiher a man of know any such man, he does not lore dogs honour should pay me that, than all the bo- inordinately. mage of a sincere and humble love.

Ind. No, that he does not. Beril. You certainly distinguish right, ma- Bevil. Nor cards nor dice. dam; love often kindles from external merit Ind. No. only.

Bevil. Nor botile companions. Ind. But esteem arises from a higher source, Ind. No. the merit of the soul.

Bevil. Nor loose women. Becil. True; and great souls only can de- Ind. No, I'm sure he does not. serve it.

[Bows respectfully. vil. Take my word then, if your admired Ind. Now I think they are greater still that hero is not liable to any of these kind of decan so charitably part with it.

mands, there's no such pre-eminence in this Bevil. Now, madam, you make me vain, as you imagine: nay, this way, of expense since the utmost pride and pleasure of my you speak of is what exalts and raises him life is that I esteem you-as i qught. ihat has a taste for it, and at the same time

Ind. As he ouglıt! Still more perplexing! his delight is incapable of satiety, disgust, or he neither saves nor kills my hope. [Aside. penitence.

Bevil. But, madam, we grow grave, me- Ind. But still I insist bis having no private thinks. Let's find some other subject. — Pray interest in the action makes it prodigious, alhow did

you like the opera last night? most incredible. Ind. First give me leave to thank you for Bevil. Dear madam, I never knew

mistaken. Why, who can be more an usurer Broil. Oh! your servant, madam.

than he who lays out his money in such vaInd. Now once more, to try him. [Aside] luable purchases? If pleasure be worth purI was saying just now, I believe, you would chasing, how great a pleasure is it to bim never let me dispute with you, and I dare who has a true taste of life to ease an aching say it will always be so: however, I must heart, to see the human countenance lighted have your opinion upon a subject which cre- up into smiles of joy on the receipt of a bit ated a debate betwixt my aunt and me just of ore which is superfluous and otherwise before you came hither. She would needs useless in a man's own pocket! What could have it ihal no man ever does any extraordi- a man do better with his cash? This is the nary kindness or service for a woman, but effect of a humane disposition, where there for his own sake.

is only a general lie of nalure and common Becil. Well, madam, indeed I can't but be necessity; what then must it be when we of her mind.

serve an object of merit, of admiration? Ind. What, though he would maintain and Ind. Well, the more you argue against it, support her, without demanding any thing of the more I shall admire the generosity, her on her part?

Bevil. Nay then, madam, 'tis time to fly, Becil. Why, madam, is making an expense after a declaration that my opinion strengthens in the service of a valuable woman (for such my adversary's argument. I must suppose her), though she should never to my appointment with Mr. Myrtle, and be do him any favour, nay, though she should gone while we are friends, and before things never know who did her such" service, such are brought to an extremity. [Exit carelessly. a mighty heroic business ? Ind. Certainly! I should think he must be

Re-enter ISABELLA. a man of an uncommon mould.

Isa. Well, madam, what think you of him Bevil. Dear madam, why so ? 'tis but at now, pray? best a better taste in expense. To bestow

Ind. I protest I begin to fear be is wholly upon one whom he may think one of the or- disinterested in what he does for me. On

you more

my tickets.

I had best hasten


my heart, he has no other view but the mere not being her equal, never had opportunity pleasure of doing it, and has neither good or of heing her slave. I am my master's servant bad designs upon me.

for hire, I am my mistress's from choice, would Isa. Ah, dear niece! don't be in fear of she but approve my passion. both; I'll warrant you you will know time Phil. I think it is ibe first time I ever heard enough that be is not indifferent.

you speak of it with any sense of anguish, if Ind. You please me when you tell me so; you really do susfer any. for if he has any wishes towards me, I know Tom. Ah, Phillis! can you doubt after what be will not pursue them but with honour.

you have seen? Isa. I wish I were as confident of one as Phil. I know not what I have seen t'other.-I saw the respectful downcast of his what I have heard; but since I am at leisure, eye when you catch'd 'him gazing at you dur- you may tell me when you fell in love with ing the music. Oh, the undissembled, guilty me, how you sell in love with me, and what look!

you have suffered, or are ready to suffer, for Ind. But did you observe any thing really? me. I thought he looked most charmingly graceful. Tom. Oh, the unmerciful jade! when I'm How engaging is modesty in a man, when in haste about my master's letter; but I must one knows there is a great mind within! go through it.: [Aside] Ah! too well I re

Isa. Ah, niece! some men's modesty serves member when, and how, and on what occatheir wickedness, as hypocrisy, gains the re- sion, I was first surprised. It was on the first spect due to piety. But I will own to you of April, one thousand seven hundred and there is one hopeful symptom, if there could fifteen, I came into Mr. Sealand's service. I be such a thing as a disinterested lover; but was then a hobble-de-hoy, and you a pretty, till-till-till

little, tight girl, a favourite handmaid of the Ind. Till what?

housekeeper. At that time we neither of us Isa. Till I know whether Mr. Myrtle and knew what was in us. I remember I was orMr. Bevil are really friends or foes: and that dered to get out of the window, one pair o? I will be convinced of before I sleep; for you stairs, to rub the sashes clean; the person emshall not be deceived.

[Exit. ployed on the inner side was your charming Ind. I'm sure I never shall, if your fears sell, whom I had never seen before. can guard me. In the mean time, I'll wrap Phil. I think I remember the silly accident. myse!f up in the integrity of my own heart, What made ye, you oaf, ready to fall down nor dare to doubt of his.

into the street ? As conscious honour all his actions steers, Tom. You know not, I warrant you; you So conscious innocence dispels my fears. could not guess what surprised me; you took

[Erit. no delight when you immediately grew wan

ton in your conquest, and put your lips close ACT III.

and breath'd upon the glass; and when my Scene I.- SEALAND's House. lips approached, you rubbed a dirty cloth

against my face, and hid your beauteous form; Enter Tom, meeting Phillis.

when I again drew near, you spit and rubTom. Well, Phillis!—What! with a face bed, and smiled at my undoing. as if you had never seen me before ?-What Phil. What silly thoughts you men have! a work have I to do now! She has seen some Tom. We were Pyramus and Thishe; bn! new visitant at their house whose airs she has ten times harder was my fate: Pyramus could catch'd, and is resolved to practise them upon peep, only through a wall; I saw her, saw my me, Numberless are the changes she'll dance Thisbe, in all ber beauty ; but as much kept through before she'll answer this plain ques- from her as if a hundred walls were belween; tion, videlicet, Have you delivered my mas- for there was more, there was her will against ter's letter to your lady? Nay, I know her too me. Would she but relent! – Oh, Phillis! well to ask an account of it in an ordinary Phillis ! shorten my forment, and declare you way; I'll be in my airs as well as she. [.4si- pity me. dej Well, madam, as unhappy as you are at Phil. I believe it's very susserable; the pain present pleased to make me, I would not in is not so exquisite but that you may bear it ihe general be any other than what I am ; a little longer. would not be a bit wiser, a bit richer, a bit Tom. Oh, my charming Phillis! if all detaller, a bit shorter, than I am at this instant. pended on my fair one's will, I could with

[Looks stedfastly at her. glory suffer; 'but, dearest creature! consider Phil. Did ever any body doubt, master our miserable state. Thomas, but that you were extremely satisfied Phil. How! miserable ? with your sweet self?

Tom. We are miserable to be in love, and Torn. I am indeed. The thing I have least under the command of others than those we reason to be satisfied with is my fortune, and love. With that generous passion in the heart I am glad of my poverty: perhaps, if I were to be sent to and fro on errands, calied, checked, rich, I should overlook the finest woman in and rated, for the meanest trifles-Oh, Phillis ! the world, that wants nothing but riches to you don't know how many china cups and be thought so.

glasses my passion for you has made Phil. How prettily was that said! But I'll break: you have broken my fortune as well have a great deal more before I'll say one as my heart. word.

[Aside. Phil. Well, Mr. Thomas, I cannot but own Toni. I should perhaps have been stupidly to you that I believe your master writes and above her bad I not been her equal; and by you speak the best of any men in the world


Never was a woman so well pleased with a Phil. No, but he has so much love for his letter as my young lady was with his, and mistress. this is an answer to it. Gives hiin a Letter. Luc. But I thought I heard him kiss you:

Tom. This was well done, my dearest! why do you suffer that? Consider, we must strike out some pretty live-l. Phil. Why, madam, we vulgar take it to lihood for ourselves by closing their affairs: be a sign of love. We servants, we poor it will be nothing for ihem to give us a little people, that bave nothing but

our persons. dio being of our own, some small tenement, out bestow or treat for, squeeze with our hands, of their large possessions. Whatever they and seal with our lips, to ratify rows and give us, it will be more than what they keep promises. for themselves: one acre with Phillis would Luc. Bul can't you trust one another withbe worth a whole county without her. out such earnest down? Phil. Oh, could I but believe you!

Phil. We don't think it safe, any more Tom. If not the utterance, believe the touch, than you gentry, to come together without of my lips.

[Kisses her. deeds executed. Phil. There's no contradicting you. How

Luc. Thou art a pert merry, hussy. closely you argue, Tom !

Phil. I wish, madam, your lover and you Tom. And will closer in due time; but were as happy as Tom and your servant are, must basten with this letler, to basten towards Luc. You grow impertinent. the possession of you--then, Pbillis, consider Phil. I have done, madam; and I won't how I must be reveng'd (look to it) of all ask you what you intend to do with Mr. your skittishness, shy looks, and at best, but Myrtle; what your father will do with Mr. coy compliances.

Bevil; nor what you all, especially my lady, Phil

. Oh, Tom! you grow wanton and sen- mean by admitting Mr. Cimberton as partisual, as my lady calls it: I must not endure cularly here as if he were married to you al it. Óh, fob! you are a man, an odious, filthy; ready; nay, you are married aclually as far male creature! you should behave, if you had as people of quality are. a right sense, or were a man of sense, like Luc. How's ibat? Mr. Cimberlon, with distance and indifference; Phil. You have different beds in the same and not rush on one as if you were seiz-house. ing a prey. But hush—the ladies are coming. Luc. Pshaw! I have a very great value for Good Tom, don't kiss me above once, and be Mr. Bevil, but have absolutely put an end to gone. Lard! we have been fooling and toy- his pretensions in the letter I gave you for ing, and not consider'd the main business of bim. our masters' and mistresses'.

Phil. Then Mr. MyrtleTom. Why their business is to be fooling Luc. He had my parents' leave to apply to and toying as soon as the parchments are me, and by that he has won me and my afready.

lections; who is to bare this body of mine Phil

. Well remembered--Parchments. My without' 'em, it seems, is nothing to me: my lady, to my knowledge, is preparing writings mother says 'tis indecent for me to iet my between her coxcomb cousin, Cimberton, and shoughıs stray about the person of my

busmy mistress, though my master has an eye lo band; nay, she says a maid rightly virtuous the parchments already prepared between your though she may have been where her lorer masier, Mr. Bevil, and my mistress; and I be-was a thousand times, should not have made lieve my mistress herself has signed and sealed observations enough to know him from anoin her heart to Mr. Myrtle. Did I not bid ther man when she sces him in a third place. you kiss me but once and be gone? but I Phil. That's more than the severity of ? know you won't be satisfied.

nun; for not to see when one may is bardly Tom. No, you smooth creature! how should possible; not to see when one can't is very I ?

[Kisses her Hand. easy: at this rate, madam, tbere are a great Phil. Well, since you are so humble, or many whom you have not seen wboso cool, as to ravish my hand only, I'll take Luc. Mamma says the first time you see my leave of you like a great lady, and you a your husband should be at that instant he is man of quality. ,[?hey salule formally. made so. When your father, with the help Tom. Plague of all this state.

of the minister, gives you to him, then you [Offers to kiss her more closely. are to see him, then you are to observe and Phil. No, prythee, Tom, mind your busi- take notice of him, because then you are lo

Oh, here is my young mistress! [Tom obey him. taps her Neck behind, and kisses his Fin- Phil. But does not my lady remember you gers] Go, ye liquorish sool. [Exit Tom. are to love as well as to obey?

Luc. To love is a passion, 'tis a desire, and Enter LUCINDA.

we must have no desires. Oh! I cannot es

dure the reflection! With what insensibility Luc. Who was that you were hurrying on my part, with what more than patience, away?

have I been expos'd and offer'd to some awk. Phil

. One that I had no mind to part with. ward booby or other in every county of Great Luc. Why did you turn him away then ? Britain !

Phil. For your ladyship's service, to carry Phil. Indeed, madam, I wonder I never your ladyship's letter to his master. could heard you speak of it before with this indigo hardly get the rogue away.

nation. Luc. Why, bas he so little love for his Luc. Every corner of the land bas presealmaster?

ed me with a wealthy coxcomb: as fast as


ber very,

one treaty has gone off another has come on, been a matron of Sparta, one might, with less till my name and person have been the title-indecency, have had ten children, 'according tallle of the whole town.

to that modest institution, than one under the Phil. But, madam, all these vexations will confusiun of our modern barelac'd manner. end very soon in one for all: Mr. Cimberton Luc. And yet, poor woman, she has gone is your mother's kinsman, and three hundred through the wbole ceremony, and here I stand years, an older gentleman than any, lover you a melancholy proof of it.

[Aside. erer bad; for which reason, with that of his Mrs. S. We will talk then of business. prodigious large estate, she is resolved on hiin, That girl, walking about the room there, is and has sent to consult the lawyers accord- to be your wise: she tas, I consess, no ideas, ingly; nay, has, whether you know it or no, no sentiments, that speak' her born of a think been in treaty with sir Geoffry, who, to join ing mother. in the settlement, has accepted of a sum to Cim. I have observed her; her lively look, do it, and is every moment expected in town free air, and disengaged countenance, speak for that purpose.

Luc. How do you get all this intelligence ? Luc. Very what?

Phil. By an art I have, I thank my stars, Cim. If you please, madam, to set her a beyoud all the waiting-maids in Great Pritain;little that way: the art of listening, madam, for your lady- Mrs. S. Lucinda, say nothing to him, you ship's service.

are not a match for bim; when you are marLuc. I shall soon know as much as you do. ried you may speak to such a husband when Leave me, leave me, Phillis; be gone; here, you're spoken to; but I am disposing of you here, I'll turn you out. My moiher says 1 above yourself every way. must not converse with my servants, though Cim. Madam, you cannot but observe the I must converse with no one else. [E.rit Phil- inconveniences l'expose myself to, in bopes lis) Here he comes with my mother-it's much that your ladyship will be the consort of my if he looks at me; or if he does, takes no better part. As for the young woman, she is more notice of me than of any other move- rather an impediment than a belp to a man able in the room.

of letters and speculation. Madam, there is

no reflection, no philosophy, can at all times Enter MRS. SEALAND and CIMBERTON. subdue the sensitive life, but the animal shall

Mrs. S. How do I admire this noble, this sometimes carry away the man-Ha! ay, the learned taste of yours, and the worthy regard vermilion of her lips! you have to our own ancient and honourable Luc. Pray don't talk of me thus. house, in consulting a means to keep the blood Cim. The prelly enough pant of her bosom. as pure and as regularly descended as may be. Luc. Sir! Madam, don't


hear him? Cim. Why, really, madam, the young wo

Cim. Her forward chest ! men of this age are treated with discourses of Luc. Intolerable ! such a tendency, and their imaginations so Cim. High health! bewilder'd in flesh and blood, that a

man of

Luc. The grave, easy impudence of him! reason can't talk to be understood: they have Cim. Proud heart! no ideas of happiness but what are more gross Luc. Stupid coxcomb ! than the gratification of bunger and thirst. Cim. I say, madam, her impatience, while

Luc. With how much reflection he is a we are looking at her, throws out all'altraccoxcomb!

[Aside. tions—her arms—her neck—what a spring in Cim. And in truth, madam, I have consi- her step! dered it as a most brutal custom, that per- Luc. Don't you run

me over thus, you sons of the first character in the world should strange unaccountablego as ordinarily, and with as little shame lo Cim. What an elasticity in her veins and bed, as lo dinner with one another. They arteries! proceed to the propagation of the species as Luc. I have no veins, no arteries ! openly as to the preservation of the individual. Mrs. S. Oh, child! bear him; be talks finely;

Luc. She that willingly goes to bed to thee he's a scholar'; he knows what you have. must have no shame, I'm sure. [ Aside. Cim. The speaking invitation of her shape,

Mrs.S. Oh, cousin Cimberton! cousin Cim- the gathering of herself up, and the indignaberton! bow abstracted, how relined is your lion you ste in the prelly little thing!-Now sense of things! but indeed it is too irue, I am considering her on this occasion but as there is nothing so ordinary as to say, in the one that is to be pregnant; and pregnant unbest govern'd families, my master and lady doubtedly she will be yearly: I lear I shan't are gone to bed; one does not know but it for many years bave discretion enough to give might have been said of one's self.

her one rallow season. [Hides her face with her Fan. Luc. Monster! there's no bearing it. The Cim. Lycurgus, madam, instituted other- hideous sol !-There's no enduring it, to be wise: janiong the Lacedemonians the whole thus surveyed like sleed at sale! female world was pregnant, but none but the Cim. Al sale!--she's very illiterate; but she's mothers themselves knew by whom; their very well limbid too. Turn her in, I see what meetings were secret, and the amorous con- she is. gress always by stealth; and no such profess- Mrs. S. Go, you creature, I am asham'd of ed doings belween the sexes as are toleraled you.

[Exit Lucinda, in a Rage. among us, under the audacious word, mar- Cim. No barm done. You know, madam, riage.

the better sort of people, as I observed to you, Mrs. S. Ob! bad I lived in those days, and treat by their lawyers of weddings; [Adjusts

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