FEMALE INFLUENCE. MIRABELL and FAINALL. Wir. I wonder, Fainall, that you who are married, of consequence should be discreet, will suffer r wife to be of a scandalous party. ain. Faith, I am not jealous. Besides, most who engag'd are women and relations; and for the 1, they are of a kind too contemptible to give dal. Vir. I am of another opinion. The greater the comb, always the more the scandal: for a woman, › is not a fool, can have but one reason for assoing with a man who is one. aut. Are you jealous as often as you see Witd entertain'd by Millamant ? fir. Of her understanding I am, if not of her -my money it FAINALL, WITWOUD, and MIRABELL. Fain. What have you done with Petulant? Wit. He's reckoning his moneywas-I have no luck to-day. Fain. You may allow him to win of you at play; -for you are sure to be too hard for him at repartee; since you monopolize the wit that is between you, the fortune must be his of course. Mir. I don't find that Petulant confesses the superiority of wit to be your talent, Witwoud. Wit. Come, come, you are malicious now, and wou'd breed debates--Petulant's my friend, and a very honest fellow, and a very pretty fellow, and has a smattering- -faith and troth a pretty deal of an odd sort of a small wit: nay, I'll do him justice. I'm his friend, I won't wrong him.- -And if he had any judgment in the world,-he wou'd not be altogether contemptible. Come, come, don't detract from the merit of my friend. Fain. You don't take your friend to be over-nicely bred? Wit. No, no, hang him, the rogue has no manners at all, that I must own no more breeding than a bum baily, that I can grant you-'tis pity; the fellow has fire and life. Mir. What courage? Wit. Hum, faith I don't know as to that, I can't say as to that.- -Yes, faith, in a controversy, he'll contradict any body. ir. And for a discerning man, somewhat too Duate a lover; for I like her with all her faults; like her for her faults. Her follies are so natural, artful, that they become her; and those affecwhich in another woman would be odious, serve - make her more agreeable. I'll tell thee, Fainhe once us'd me with that insolence, that in e I took her to pieces; sifted her, and separated ilings; I studied 'em, and got 'em by rote. atalogue was so large, that I was not without one day or other to hate her heartily to which so us'd myself to think of 'em, that at length, y to my design and expectation, they gave me Wit. Well, well, he does not always think before hour less and less disturbance; 'till in a few he speaks ;--we have all our failings: you are too t became habitual to me to remember 'em hard upon him, you are, faith. Let me excuse him t being displeas'd. They are now grown I can defend most of his faults, except one or iliar to me as my own frailties: and in all [two: one he has, that's the truth on't; if he were Mir. Tho' 'twere a man whom he fear'd, or a woman whom he lov'd. my brother, I cou'd not acquit him—that indeed I in your nature; your true vanity is in the power of cou'd wish were otherwise. Mir. Ay, marry, what's that, Witwoud? Fain. What, I warrant he's unsincere, or 'tis some such trifle. Wit. No, no, what if he be? 'tis no matter for that, his wit will excuse that: a wit shou'd no more be sincere, than a woman constant; cne argues a decay of parts, as t'other of beauty. pleasing. Mil. O ask your pardon for that one's cruelty is in one's power; and when one parts with one's cruelty, one parts with one's power; and when se has parted with that, I fancy one's old and agir. Mir. Ay, ay, suffer your cruelty to ruin the object of your power, to destroy your lover-and then bow vain, how lost a thing you'll be! nay, 'tis true: you are no longer handsome when you've lost your lover, your beauty dies upon the instant; for beauty is lover's gift; 'tis he bestows your charms Mir. May be you think him too positive? Wit. No, no, his being positive is an incentive to glass is all a cheat. The ugly and the old, wish argument, and keeps up conversation. Fain. Too illiterate? Mir. What? he speaks unseasonable truths sometimes, because he has not wit enough to invent an evasion ? Wit. Truths! ha, ha, ha! no, no; since you will have it.—————I mean, he never speaks truth at all, -that's all. He will lie like a chambermaid, or a woman of quality's porter. Now that is a fault. [Way of the World. BEAUTY DEPENDENT ON A LOVER'S FANCY. MIRABELL, MILLAMANT, and WITWOUD. Mil. Mirabell, did you take exceptions last night? O ay, and went away-now I think on't, I'm angryno, now I think on't I'm pleas'd-for I believe I gave you some pain. Mir. Does that please you? Mil. Infinitely; I love to give pain. Mir. You wou'd affect a cruelty which is not the looking-glass mortifies, yet after commendana can be flatter'd by it, and discover beauties in it, fr that reflects our praises, rather than our face. Mil. O the vanity of these men! Fainall, de hear him? If they did not commend us, we w not handsome! now you must know they con'd commend one, if one was not handsome. Bey the lover's gift-Lord, what is a lover, that ne give? Why, one makes lovers as fast as one pleasen and they live as long as one pleases, and they dea soon as one pleases; and then if one pleases, off makes more. Wit. Very pretty. Why, you make no mer making of lovers, Madam, than of making so na card-matches. Mil. One no more owes one's beauty to a l than one's wit to an echo; they can but refect we look and say; vain empty things if we are sa or unseen, and want a being. Mir. Yet to those two vain empty things, you two the greatest pleasures of your life. Mil. How so? Mir. To your lover you owe the pleasure of ing yourselves prais'd; and to an echo the pl of hearing yourselves talk. Wit. But I know a lady that loves talking cessantly, she won't give an echo fair play, that everlasting rotation of tongue, that an ede wait 'till she dies, before it can catch her last Mil. O fiction; Fainall, let us leave these [Way of the PRISON SCENE. rrento, with his dress torn, from the last night's iot, is dragged in by the turnkeys—he resists, amouring outside as he comes.] or. Why, you scoundrels, you renegadoes, you in office, what's this for! To be dragged out of irst sleep in my dungeon, to look in the faces of a confoundedly ugly set of cannibals. oler. Bring him along. [He is forced in. . [Continuing to struggle]-Cannot I sleep or e as I like? I'll blow up the prison.-I'll masthe gaoler, I'll do worse-I'll let the law loose u-Villains. oler. Poh! Master Torrento, you need not be ch a passion. You used to have no objection to company-ha, ha, ha! He has been moulting athers a little last night. [To the hussars. r. Company-Banditti! Who are those fellows? ey all hangmen ? [Looking at the hussars. jur. A mighty handsome idea, by the glory of wentieth. [Laughing, Sirrah! you must see that we are officers. Col. A decided speech! [Prisoners cheer. Cor. Out of the orator's way! Muffs and meerschaums! [The prisoners lift Torrento on a bench, laughing and clamouring.] Tor. [Haranguing]-Are we to suffer ourselves to be molested in our domestic circle; in the loveliness of our private lives; in our otium cum dignitate? Gentlemen of the gaol! [cheering.]-Is not our residence here for our country's good? [cheering]— Would it not be well for the country if ten times as many, that hold their heads high, outside these walls, were now inside them? [cheering.]—I scorn to appeal to your passions; but shall we suffer our honourable straw, our venerable bread and water, our virtuous slumbers, and our useful days, to be invaded, crushed, and calcitrated, by the iron boot-heel of arrogance and audacity? [cheering.]-No! freedom is like the air we breathe, without it we die!-No! every man's cell is his castle. By the law, we live here; and should not all that live by the law, die by the law? -Now gentlemen, a general cheer! here's liberty, property, and purity of principle! Gentlemen of the gaol! [They carry him round the hall. Loud cheering. Gaol. Out with ye, ye dogs! No rioting! Turnkeys! [calls.]-The black-hole and double irons. [He drives them off, and follows them. Cor. A dungeon Demosthenes! Muffs and meerschaums. Maj. A regular field preacher, on my consciente. Col. [To Tor.]-So, then, we must not fix our head-quarters here. Tor. Confound me if I care, if your head-quarters and all your other quarters were fixed here. Col. No insolence sir. What are you? Tor. A gentleman. [Haughtily. Cor. Psha! every body's a gentleman now. Col. Aye, that accounts for the vices of the age. Tor. A gentleman, sir, by the old title of liking| pleasure more than trouble; play more than money; love more than marriage; fighting more than either; and any thing more than the unparalleled impudence of your questions. Maj. Sirrah! do you mean this to me? I'llTor. Aye, sirrah, and to every honourable person present. I never drink a health without sending the toast round. In matters of contempt, I make it a point of honour to be impartial. [Pride shall have a Fall. RIGHT HONOURARLE DIGNITY. PAUL PLYANT, Lord FROTH, BRISK, CARELESS. Sir Paul. When Mr. Brisk jokes, your lordship's laugh does so become you, he, he, he! Lord F. Ridiculous!-Sir Paul, you're strangely mistaken; I find champagne is powerful. I assure you, Sir Paul, I laugh at nobody's jest but my own, or a lady's, I assure you Sir Paul. Brisk. How how, my lord! What affront my wit! let me perish, do I never say any thing worthy to be laugh'd at? Ld. F. O foy, don't misapprehend me; I don't say so, for I often smile at your conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming a man of quality, than to laugh; 'tis such a vulgar expression of the passion! every body can laugh. Then, especially to laugh at the jest of an inferior person, or when any body else of the same quality does not laugh with Ridiculous! to be pleased with what pleases the crowd! now, when laugh, I always laugh alone! Brisk. I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests, 'egad, ha, ha, ha! one. Ld. F. He, he! I swear though, your raillery provokes me to smile. Brisk. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you show 'em. Ld. F. He, he, he, I swear that's so very pretty, I can't forbear. Care. But does your lordship never see comedies? Ld. F. O yes, sometimes, but I never laugh. Ld. F. Oh, no, never laugh indeed, sir. Care. No! Why what d'ye go there for? Ld. F. To distinguish myself from the commonal and mortify the poets;-the fellows grow so ceited when any of their foolish wit prevals upen the side boxes.-I swear-be, he, he, I have den constrained my inclination to laugh-he, br, be, t avoid giving them encouragement. Care. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as w as malicious to them. Ld. F. I confess I did myself some violence = &but now I think I have conquered it. Brisk. Let me perish, my lord, but there is thing very particular in the humour; 'tis tree. makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some fre mine that write, but 'egad I love to be maliewsNay, deuce take me, there's wit fn't too must be foiled by wit; cut a diamond with 16 mond, no other way, 'egad. Ld. F. Oh, I thought you would not be long beat you found out the wit. Care. Wit! in what? where the devil's the w not laughing when a man has a mind to't? [Double Desir A BLUE STOCKING LADY'S IDEA OF LOVE Lady FROTH and CYNTHIA. Cyn. Indeed, madam! is it possible your ind. could have been so much in love? Lady F. I could not sleep; I did not sig wink for three weeks together. Cyn. Prodigious! I wonder want of sleep, t much love," and so much wit as your lady? did not turn your brain. Lady F. O my dear Cynthia, you must det your friend-but really, as you say, I wonde but then I had a way. For between you and whimsies and vapours, but I gave them vent Cyn. How, pray, madam? Lady F. O, I writ, writ abundantly never write? yn. Write, what? ady F. Songs, elegies, satires, encomiums, panees, lampoons, plays, or beroic poems. yn. O lord, not I, madam; I am content to be a teous reader, 1 ady F. O inconsistent! in love, and not write lord and I had been both of your temper, we never come together-O bless me! what a thing would that have been, if my lord and I ld never have met ! puted to me as a merit.-Treachery, what treachery? Love cancels all the bonds of friendship, and sets men right upon their first foundations. Duty to kings, piety to parents, gratitude to benefactors, and fidelity to friends, are different and particular ties; but the name of rival cuts them all asunder, and is a general acquittance-Rival is equal, and love like death, an universal leveller of mankind. Ha! but is there no such a thing as honesty? yes, and whosoever has it about him, bears an enemy in his breast: ya. Then neither my lord nor you would ever for your honest man, as I take it, is that nice, scrumet with your match, on my conscience. pulous, conscientious person who will cheat nobody ady F. O my conscience no more we should; but himself; such another coxcomb as your wise say'st right for sure my Lord Froth is as man, who is too hard for all the world, and will be a gentleman, and as much a man of quality! Ah! made a fool of by nobody but himself. Ha, ha, ha; ing at all of the common air--I think I may well, for wisdom and honesty give me cunning and he wants nothing but a blue riband and a star, hypocrisy; Oh, 'tis such a pleasure to angle for fairJake him shine the very phosphorus of our hemi-faced fools ?-Then that hungry gudgeon Credulity Do you understand those two hard words? re. u don't I'll explain them to you. will bite at any thing--Why, let me see, I have the same face, the same words and accents when I yn. Yes, yes, madam, I am not so ignorant.- speak what I do think, and when I speak what I do east I won't own it, to be troubled with your in-not think-the very same-and dear dissimulation is tions. the only art not to be known from nature. [Aside. dy F. Nay, I beg your pardon; but being de1 from the Greek, I thought you might have Ded the etymology.-But I am the more amazed, ad you a woman of letters, and not write! Bless how.can Mellefont believe you love him? n. Why, faith, madam, he that won't take my , shall never have it under my hand, dy F. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, hut aks he wants a manner. R. A manner! What's that, madam? Why will mankind be fools, and be deceiv'd? AN OVER-RIGHTEOUS LADY. Care. Mellefont, get out of the way, my lady Plyant's coming, and I shall never succeed while thou ly F. Some distinguishing quality, as for examart in sight- -tho' she begins to tack about; but I e bel air or brilliant of Mr. Brisk; the solem-made love a great while to no purpose. yet complaisance of my lord, or something of vn that should look a little je ne sçai quoi; he much a mediocrity in my mind. He does not indeed affect either pertness or ity, for which I like him. [Double Dealer. Mel. Why, what's the matter? she is convinced that I don't care for her. Care. I cannot get an answer from her that does not begin with her honour, or her virtue, her religion, or some such cant. Then she has told me the whole story of Sir Paul's nine years courtship; how he has lain for whole nights together upon the stairs before her chamber door; and that the first favour he reim-ceived from her was a piece of an old scarlet petticoat MASKWELL'S SOLILOQUY. thia, let thy beauty gild my crimes; and whatI commit of treachery or deceit shall be |