OR, A TRIP TO THE JUBILEE: A COMEDY, IN FIVE ACTS.-BY GEORGE FARQUHAR. SCENE I.-The Park. Enter VIZARD with a letter, a Servant following him. Viz. Angelica send it back unopened! say you? Serv. As you see, sir. Viz. The pride of these virtuous women is more insufferable than the immodesty of prostitutes. After all my encouragement, to slight me thus! Serv. She said, sir, that imagining your morals sincere, she gave you access to her conversation; but that your late behaviour, in her company, has convinced her, that your love and religion are both hypocrisy; and that she believes your letter, like yourself, fair on the outside, foul within; so sent it back unopened. Viz. I'll be revenged the very first opportunity. Saw you the old Lady Darling, her mother? Serv. Yes, sir; and she was pleased to say much in your commendation. Viz. That's my cue. (Aside.) Run to the Lady Larewell's, and know of her maid, whether her ladyship will be at home this evening. Her beauty is sufficient cure for Angelica's scorn. [Exit Servant. Vizard pulls out a book, reads and walks about. Enter ALDERMAN SMUGGLER. Ald. S. Ay, there's a pattern for the young men o' th' times! At his meditation so early; some book of pious ejaculations, I'm sure. Viz. This Hoyle is an excellent fellow! (Aside.) Oh! uncle Smuggler, to find you at this end o' th' town is a miracle. CONSTABLE LADY LUREWELL LADY DARLING ANGELICA PARLEY ERRAND'S WIFE I'm very glad, boy, that you keep your sanctity untainted in this infectious place; the very air of this park is heathenish, and every man's breath I meet scents of atheism. Viz. Surely, sir, some great concern must bring you to this unsanctified end of the town. Ald. S. A very unsanctified concern, truly, couViz. What is it? [sin. ship, the Swan, is newly arrived from St. Sebas Ald. S. A law-suit, boy: shall I tell you? "My tian, laden with Portugal wines: now the impudent rogue of a tide-waiter has the face to affirm it is French wine in Spanish casks, and has indicted me upon the statute. Oh! conscience, conscience! these tide-waiters and surveyors plague us more French privateers.-Ay, there's another plague of with their French wines, than the war did with the nation Ald. S. Tal, al, deral. (Singing.) I'll have a bonfire this night as high as the monument. Col. S. A bontire! thou dry, withered, ill-natured Ald. S. I have seen a miracle this morning, in--had not those brave fellows' swords defended you, deed, cousin Vizard! Viz. What is it, pray, sir? Ald S. A man at his devotions so near the court: your house had been a bonfire ere this about your Did we not venture our lives, sir? Ald. S. And did we not pay for your lives, sir? ears. Venture your lives! I'm sure we ventured our money, and that's life and soul to me. Sir, we'll maintain you no longer. Col. S. Then your wives shall, old Actæon. There are five-and-thirty strapping officers gone this morning to live upon free quarter in the city. Ald. S. Oh! lord, oh! lord, I shall have a son within these nine months, born with a halfpike in his hand. Sir, you are— Col. S. What, sir? Ald. S. Sir, I say that you are-- Ald. S. Disbanded, sir, that's all. I see my lawyer yonder. [Exit. Viz. Sir, I am very sorry for your misfortune. Col. S. Why so? I don't come to borrow money of you; if you're my friend, meet me this evening at the Shakspeare. I'll drink a health to my king, prosperity to my country, and away for Hungary to-morrow morning. Viz. What! you won't leave us? Col. S. What! a soldier stay here, to look like an old pair of colours in Westminster-hall, ragged and rusty! no, no. I met yesterday a broken lieutenant, he was ashamed to own that he wanted a dinner, but begged ten shillings of me to buy a new scabbard for his sword. Viz. Oh! but you have good friends, Colonel! Col. S. Oh! very good friends; my father's a lord, and my elder brother a beau; mighty good friends, indeed! [sword again. Viz. But your country may, perhaps, want your Col. S. Nay, for that matter, let but a single drum beat up for volunteers between Ludgate and Charing-cross, and I shall undoubtedly hear it at the walls of Buda. Viz. Come, come, Colonel, there are ways of making your fortune at home: make your addresses to the fair; you're a man of honour and courage. Col. S. Ay, my courage is like to do me wondrous service with the fair: this pretty cross over my eye will attract a duchess: I warrant 'twill be a mighty grace to my ogling. Had I used the stratagem of a certain brother colonel of mine, I might succeed. Viz. What was it, pray? Col. S. Why, to save his pretty face for the women, he always turned his back upon the enemy: he was a man of honour for the ladies. Viz. Come, come, the loves of Mars and Venus will never fail; you must get a mistress. Col. S. Pr'ythee, no more on't; you have awakened a thought, from which and the kingdom, I would have stolen away at once. To be plain, I have a mistress. Viz. And she's cruel? Col. S. No. Viz. Her parents prevent your happiness? Viz. Then she has no fortune? Col. S. A large one; beauty to tempt all mankind, and virtue to beat off their assaults. Oh! Vizard, such a creature! (Sir Harry Wildair sings without.) Heyday! who the devil have we here? Viz. The joy of the play-house, and life of the park; Sir Harry Wildair, newly come from Paris. Col. S. Sir Harry Wildair! did not he make a campaign in Flanders some three or four years ago? Viz. The same. Col. S. Why, he behaved himself very bravely. Viz. Why not? Dost think bravery and gaiety are inconsistent? He's a gentleman of most happy circumstances, born to a plentiful estate; has had a genteel and easy education, free from the rigidness of teachers, and pedantry of schools. His florid constitution, being never ruffled by misfortune, nor stinted in its pleasures, has rendered him entertaining to others, and easy to himself. Turning all passion into gaiety of humour, by which he chooses rather to rejoice with his friends, than be hated by any; as you shall see, Enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR. Sir H. Ha, Vizard! Viz. Sir Harry! Sir H. Who thought to find you out of the ru bric so long? I thought thy hypocrisy had been wedded to a pulpit-cushion long ago. Sir, if I mistake not your face, your name is Standard. Col. S. Sir Harry, I'm your humble servant. Sir H. Come, gentlemen, the news, the news of the town! for I'm just arrived. Viz. Why, in the city end of the town, we're playing the knave to get estates. Col. S. And, in the court-end, playing the fool, in spending them. Sir H. Just so in Paris. I'm glad we're grown so modish. Viz. We are so reformed, that gallantry is taken for vice. Col. S. And hypocrisy for religion. Sir H. A la mode de Paris again. But this is trifling; tell me news, gentlemen. What lord has lately broke his fortune at Brooks's, or his heart at Newmarket for the loss of a race? What wis has been lately saing in Doctors' Commons for alimony? or what daughter ran away with her fa ther's valet? What beau gave the noblest ball, or had the finest coach on the birth-day? I want news, gentlemen. Col. S. 'Faith, sir, these are no news at all. Viz. But, Sir Harry, we heard that you designed to make the tour of Italy; what brought you back so soon? Sir H. That which brought you into the world, and may, perhaps, carry you out of it-a woman. Col. S. What! quit the pleasures of travel for a woman! Sir H. Ay, Colonel, for such a woman! I had rather see her ruelle than the palace of Louis le Grand: there's more glory in her smile, than in the jubilee at Rome; and I would rather kiss her hand than the Pope's toe. Viz. You, Colonel, have been very lavish in the beauty and virtue of your mistress; and Sir Harry here has been no less eloquent in the praise of his. Now will I lay you both ten guineas each, that neither of them is so pretty, so witty, or so virtuous, as mine. Col. S. 'Tis done. Col. S. How, sir! left Paris about a month before you? Sir H. Yes, sir; and I had an account that she lodged somewhere in St. James's. Viz. How! somewhere in St. James's, say you! Sir H. Ay, sir; but I know not where, and perhaps mayn't find her this fortnight. Col. S. Her name, pray, Sir Harry? Viz. Ay, ay, her name; perhaps we know her Sir H. Her name! ay, she has the softest. whitest hand that e'er was made of flesh and bloed; her lips so balmy sweet Col. S. But her name I want, sir. Col. S. Psha! Sir Harry, her name or nothing. Sir H. Then if you must have it, she's called the Lady-But then her foot, gentlemen; she dances to a miracle. She does dance devilish well indeed. Vizard, you have certainly lost your wager. Viz. Why, you have certainly lost your senses we shall never discover the picture, unless you subscribe the name. Sir H. Then her name is Lurewell. Re-enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR. Sir H. Pr'ythee, Dick, what makes the Colonel so out of humour? Viz. Because he's out of pay, I suppose. Sir H. 'Slife! that's true; I was beginning to mistrust some rivalship in the case. Viz. And suppose there were, you know the Colonel can fight, Sir Harry. Sir H. Fight! psha! but he can't dance. Ha! he contend for a woman, Vizard! 'Slife! man, if ladies were to be gained by sword and pistol only, what the devil should all we beaux do?" Viz. I'll try him farther. (Aside.) But would not you, Sir Harry, fight for this woman you so much admire? Sir H. Fight! let me consider. I love her, that's true; but then I love honest Sir Harry Wildair better. The Lady Lurewell is divinely charming-right-but then a thrust in the guts, or a Middlesex jury, is as ugly as the devil. Viz. Ay, Sir Harry, 'twere dangerous to be tried by a parcel of greasy, grumbling, bartering boobies, who would hang you, purely because you are a gentleman. Sir H. But no more of her. Pr'ythee, Vizard, can't you recommend a friend to a pretty mistress, by the by, till I can find my own? You have store, I'm sure; you cunning poaching dogs make surer game, than we that hunt open and fair. Pr'ythee, now, good Vizard. Viz. Let me consider a little.-Now love and revenge inspire my politics! (Aside. Pauses, whilst Sir Harry walks, singing.) Sir H. Psha! thou'rt as long studying for a new mistress, as Viz. I design a charming girl for you; you'll therefore bear a little expectation. Sir H. Ha! sayest thou, dear Vizard? Viz. A girl of sixteen, Sir Harry. Sir H. Now, sixteen thousand blessings light on thee. Viz. Pretty and witty. Sir H. Ay, ay, but ber name, Vizard. Viz. Her name! yes,-she has the softest, whitest hand that e'er was made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet[man? Sir H. Well, well; but where shall I find her, Viz. Find her!--but then her foot, Sir Harry; she dances to a miracle. Sir H. Pr'ythee, don't distract me. Viz. Well, then, you must know, that this lady is the greatest beauty in town; her name's Angelica: she that passes for her mother is very commode, and called the Lady Darling; she goes for a baronet's lady (no disparagement to your honour, Sir Harry,) I assure you. Sir H. Psha! hang my honour; but what street, what house? Viz. Not so fast, Sir Harry; you must have my passport for your admittance, and you'll find my recommendation in a line or two will procure you very civil entertainment; I suppose twenty or thirty pieces, handsomely placed, will gain the point. Sir H. Thou dearest friend to a man in necessity. Here, sirrah, order my coach about to St. James's; I'll walk across the park. (To his Servant.) Enter CLINCHER, Senior. Clin. sen. Here, sirrah, order my coach about to St. James's; I'll walk across the park, too.-Mr. Vizard, your most devoted-Sir, (to Sir H.) I admire the mode of your dress-knot; methinks it very emphatically carries an air of travel in it; your sword-knot, too, is most ornamentally modish, and bears a foreign mien. Gentlemen, my brother is just arriv'd in town; So that, being upon the wing to kiss his hands, I hope you'll pardon the abrupt departure of, Gentlemen, your most devoted, and most faithful humble servant. [Exit. Sir H. Pr'ythee, dost know him? Viz. Know him! Why, 'tis Clincher, who was apprentice to my uncle Sinuggler, the merchant, in the city. Sir H. What makes him so gay? Viz. Why, he's in mourning. Sir H. In mourning! Viz. Yes, for his father. The kind old man, in Hertfordshire, the other day, broke his neck a fox-hunting; the son, upon the news, has broke his indentures; whipped from behind the counter into the side-box; and now talks of nothing but wines, intrigues, plays, fashions, and going to the jubilee. Sir H. Ha, ha, ha! how many pounds of mareschal must the fellow use in sweetening himself from the smell of hops and tobacco? But now for Angelica, that's her name; we'll to the coffeehouse, where you shall write my passport. Allons. [Exeunt, SCENE II.-Lady Lurewell's Lodgings. Enter LADY LUREWELL and PARLEY. Lady L. Parley, my pocket-book. Let me see, Madrid, Venice, Paris, London!-Ay, London! they may talk what they will of the hot countries, but I find love most fruitful under this climate. In a month's space have I gained-let me see, imprimis, Colonel Standard Par. And how will your ladyship manage him? Lady L. As all soldiers should be managed; he shall serve me till I gain my ends, then I'll disband Par. But he loves you, madam. [him. Lady L. Therefore I scorn him; I hate all that don't love me, and slight all that do. My unwary innocence was wronged by faithless man; but now, let me survey my captives. The Colonel leads the van; next, Mr. Vizard, he courts me out of the Practice of Piety, therefore is a hypocrite; then Clincher, he adores me with orangerée, and is, consequently, a fool; then my old merchant, Alderman Smuggler, he's a compound of both; out of which medley of lovers, if I don't make good diversion-What d'ye think, Parley? Par. I can't be persuaded though, madam, but that you really loved Sir Harry Wildair in Paris. Lady L. Of all the lovers I ever had, he was my greatest plague, for I could never make him uneasy: I left him involved in a duel upon my account; I long to know whether the fop be killed or not. Oh, lord! no sooner talk of killing, but the soldier is conjured up. Enter COLONEL STANDARD. You're upon hard duty, Colonel, to serve your king, your country, and a mistress, too. Col. S. I once, madam, hoped the honour of defending you from all injuries, through a title to your lovely person; but now my love must attend my fortune. My commission, madam, was my passport to the fair; 'twas once the life of honour, but now its winding-sheet, and with it must my love be buried. Pur. What! disbanded, Colonel? Pur. Faugh! the nauseous fellow! poverty in his looks already. (Aside.) Lady L. His misfortune troubles me. (Aside.) Col, S. I'll choose, madam, rather to destroy at home. my passion by absence abroad, than have it starved | afford you opportunity of triumphing, and free me from his further impertinence; for, of all men, he's my aversion. I'll run and fetch them instantly. [Exit. Lady L. I'm sorry, sir, you have so mean an opinion of my affection, as to imagine it founded upon your fortune. And to convince you of your mistake, here I vow, by all that's sacred, I own the same affection now as before. Let it suffice, my fortune is considerable. Col. S. No, madam, no; I'll never be a charge to her I love! the man that sells himself for gold, is the worst of prostitutes. Lady L. Now, were he any other creature but a man, I could love him. (Aside.) Col. S. This only last request I make, that no title recommend a fool, no office introduce a knave, nor coat a coward, to my place in your affections; so farewell my country, and adieu my love. [Exit. Lady L. Now the devil take thee for being so honourable. Here, Parley, call him back. [Exit. Parley.] I shall lose half my diversion else. "Now for a trial of skill. Re-enter PARLEY and COLONEL STANDARD. Sir, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity: when do you take your journey? Col. S. To-morrow morning early, madam. Lady L. So suddenly! which way are you designed to travel? Col. S. That I can't yet resolve on. Lady L. Pray, sir, tell me; pray, sir; I entreat you; why are you so obstinate? Col. S. Why are you so curions, madam? Col. S. What? Lady L. Because I, I Col. S. Because what, madam?-Pray tell me. Lady L. Because I design to follow you. (Crying.) Col. S. Follow me! by all that's great, ne er was proud before. Follow me! What! expose thee to the hazards of a camp. Rather I'll stay, and here bear the contempt of fools, and worst of fortune. Lady L. You need not, shall not; my estate for both is sufficient. Col. S. Thy estate! no, I'll turn a knave, and purchase one myself; I'll cringe to the proud man I undermine, and fawn on him that I would bite to death; I'll tip my tongue with flattery, and smooth my face with smiles; I'll turn informer, office-broker, nay, coward, to be great, and sacrifice it all to thee, my generous fair. Lady L. And I'll dissemble, lie, swear, jilt, anything, but I'll reward thy love, and recompense thy noble passion. Col. S. Sir Harry, ha, ha, ha! poor Sir Harry, ha, ha, ha! Rather kiss her hand, than the Pope's toe, ha, ha, ha! [Harry? Lady L. What Sir Harry, Colonel? What Sir Col. S. Sir Harry Wildair, madam. Lady L. What! is he come over? Col. S. Dear madam, a rare project! How shall I bait him like Acteon with his own dogs! Well, Mrs. Parley, it is ordered by act of parliament, that you receive no more pieces, Mrs. Parley. Par. 'Tis provided, by the same act, that you send no more messages, good Colonel; you must not pretend to send any more letters, unless can pay the postage. you Col. S. Come, come, don't be mercenary; take example by your lady, be honourable. Par. Alack-a-day! sir, it shews as ridiculous and haughty for us to imitate our betters in their honour, as in their finery; leave honour to nobility that can support it; we poor folks, Colonel, have no pretence to't. [Exit. Col. S. 'Tis one of the greatest curses of poverty, to be the jest of chambermaids! Re-enter LADY LUREWELL. Lady L. Here's the packet, Colonel; the whole magazine of love's artillery. (Gives him the packet.) Col. S. Which, since I have gained, I will tura upon the enemy. Madam, I'll bring you the news of my victory this evening. Poor Sir Harry, ha, ha, ha! [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-Clincher Junior's Lodgings. Enter CLINCHER, Junior, reading a letter; DICKY following. Clin. jun. (Reads.) "Dear Brother,—I will set you presently; I have sent this lad to wait on you; he can instruct you in the fashions of the town. I am your affectionate brother, CLINCHER."-Very well: and what's your name, sir? Dicky. My name is Dicky, sir. Dicky. Ay, Dicky, sir. Clin. jun. Very well, a pretty name! And what can you do, Mr. Dicky? Dicky. Why, sir, I can dress hair, and carry a billet-doux. Clin. jun. A billet-doux; pray, what's that? Dicky. Why, a billet-doux is a kind of pennypost letter. Enter CLINCHER, Senior. Clin. sen. Brother, you're welcome to London.. Clin. jun. I thought, brother, you owed so much to the memory of my father, as to wear mourning for his death. Clin. sen. Why, so I do, fool; I wear this be cause I have the estate, and you wear that because you have not the estate. You have cause to mourn indeed, brother. Well, brother, I'm glad to see you; fare you well. (Going.) Clin. jun. Stay, stay, brother; where are you Col. S. Ay, and he told me-but I don't believe going? a syllable on't. Lady L. What did he tell you? Col. S. Only called you his mistress; and pretending to be extravagant in your commendation, would vainly insinuate the praise of his own judgment and good fortune in a choice Lady L. How easily is the vanity of fops tickled by our sex! Col. S. Why, your sex is the vanity of fops. Lady L. On my conscience, I believe so. This gentleman, because he danced well, I pitched on for a partner at a ball in Paris; and ever since, he has so persecuted me with letters, songs, dances, serenading, flattery, foppery, and noise, that I was forced to fly the kingdom: and I warrant you, he made you jealous. Col. S. Faith, madam, I was a little uneasy. Lady L. You shall have a plentiful revenge; I'll send him back all his foolish letters, songs, and verses, and you yourself shall carry them; 'twill Clin. sen. How natural it is for a country booby to ask impertinent questions. Harkye, sir, is not my father dead? Clin. jun. Ay, ay, to my sorrow. Clin. sen. No matter for that, he's dead; and am not I a young extravagant English heir? Clin. jun. Very right, sir. Clin, sen. Why, then, sir, you may be sure that I am going to the jubilee, sir. Clin jun. Jubilee! What's that? Clin. sen. Jubilee. Why the jubilee is-'faith, I don't know what it is: do you know, Dicky? Dicky. Why, the jubilee is the same thing with our lord mayor's day in the city; there will be pageants, and squibs, and raree shows, and all that, sir. Clin. jun. And must you go so soon, brother? Clin. sen. Yes, sir; for I must stay a month in Amsterdam, to study poetry. Clin. jun. Then I suppose, brother, you travel through Muscovy to learn fashions; don't you, brother? Clin, sen. Brother! Pr'ythee, Robin, don't call me brother; sir will do every jot as well. Clin. jun. Oh! Jupiter Ammon, why so? Clin. sen. Because people will imagine that you have a spite at me.-But have you seen your cousin Angelica yet? Clin. jun. No; my dancing-master has not been with me yet. How shall I salute them, brother? Clin, sen. Psha! that's easy; 'tis only two scrapes, a kiss, and your humble servant. I'll tell you more when I come from the jubilee. Come along. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Lady Darling's House. Enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR, with a letter. Sir H. Well, if this paper-kite flies sure, I'm secure of my game. Humph! The prettiest bordel I have seen; a very stately genteel one. (Footmen cross the stage.) Heyday! equipage too!-'Sdeath! I'm afraid I've mistaken the house. Enter LADY DARLING. No, this must be the old lady, by her gravity. Sir H. Pleasure, madam. Lady D. Then, sir, you have no business here. Sir H. This letter, madam, will inform you farther: Mr. Vizard sent it, with his humble service to your ladyship. Lady D. How does my cousin, sir? Sir H. Ay, her cousin, too; that's right procuress again. (Aside.) Lady D. (Reads.) "Madam-Earnest inclination to serve-Sir Harry-Madam-Court my cousin— gentleman-fortune.-Your ladyship's most humble servant, VIZARD." Sir, your fortune and quality are sufficient to recommend you anywhere; but what goes farther with me, is the recommendation of so sober and pious a young gentleman as my cousin Vizard. Sir H. A right sanctified old lady, on my word. (Aside.) Lady D. Sir Harry, your conversation with Mr. Vizard argues you a gentleman, free from the loose and vicious carriage of the town; I'll therefore call my daughter. [Exit. Sir H. She dresses up a sin so religiously, that the devil would hardly know it of his making. Enter ANGELICA. Oh! all ye powers of love! An angel! 'Sdeath, what money have I got in my pocket? I can't offer her less than twenty guineas; and, by Jupiter, she's worth a hundred! (A side.) Angel. 'Tis he. The very same! And his person as agreeable as his character of good humour; pray heaven, his silence proceed from respect. (Aside.) Sir H. How innocent she looks! How would that modesty adorn virtue, when it makes even vice look so charming! By heaven, there's such a commanding innocence in her looks, that I dare not ask the question. (Aside.) Angel. Now all the charms of real love and feigned indifference, assist me to engage his heart, for mine is lost already. (Aside.) Sir H. Madam-I, I-I cannot speak to her; but she's a woman, and I will.-Madam, in short, I, I-Oh! hypocrisy, hypocrisy, what a charming sin art thou! (Aside.) Angel. (Aside.) He is caught; now to secure my conquest.-I thought, sir, you had some business to communicate. Sir H. Business to communicate! How nicely she words it. Yes, madam, I have a little business to communicate. Don't you love singing birda, madam? Angel. That's an odd question for a lover.(Aside.)-Yes, sir. Sir H. Why, then, madam, here is a nest of the prettiest goldfinches that ever chirped in a cage; twenty young ones, I assure you, madam. Angel. Twenty young ones! what then, sir? Sir H. Why, then, madam, there are-twenty young ones.-'Slife! I think twenty is pretty fair. Angel. He's mad, sure.-Sir Harry, when you have learned more wit and manners, you shall be welcome here again. Exit. con Sir H. Wit and manners! Egad, now ceive there is a great deal of wit and manners in twenty guineas; I'm sure 'tis all the wit and manners I have about me at present. What shall I do? Enter CLINCHER, Junior, and DICKY. What the devil's here? Another cousin, I warrant ye. Harkye! sir, can you lend me ten or a dozen guineas instantly? I'll pay you fifteen for them in three hours, upon my honour. Clin. jun. These London sparks are plaguy impudent. This fellow, by his assurance, can be no less than a courtier. Dicky. He's rather a courtier, by his borrowing. Clin. jun. Faith, sir, I ha'n't above five guineas about me. Sir H. What business have you here, then, sir? For, to my knowledge, twenty won't be sufficient. Clin. jun. Sufficient! For what, sir? Sir H. What, sir! Why, for that, sir; what the devil should it be, sir? I know your business, notwithstanding all your gravity, sir. Clin. jun. My business! Why, my cousin lives here. Sir H. I know your cousin does live here, and Vizard's cousin, and everybody's cousin.-Harkye! sir, I shall return immediately, and if you offer to touch her till I come back, I shall cut your throat, rascal. [Exit. Clin. jun. Why the man's mad, sure! Dicky. Mad, sir, ay; why he's a beau. Clin. jun. A beau! What's that? Are all madmen beaux ? Dicky. No, sir; but most beaux are madmen. But now for your cousin; remember your three scrapes, a kiss, and your humble servant. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The Street. Enter SIR HARRY WILDAIR, COLONEL STANDARD following. Col. S. Sir Harry, Sir Harry! Sir H. I'm in haste, Colonel; besides, if you're in no better humour than when I parted with you in the park this morning, your company won't be very agreeable. Col. S. You're a happy man, Sir Harry, who are never out of humour. Can nothing move your gall, Sir Harry? Sir H. Nothing but impossibilities, which are the same as nothing. Col. S. What impossibilities? Sir H. The resurrection of my father to disinherit me, or an act of parliament against wenching. A man of eight thousand pounds per annum to be vexed! No, no; anger and spleen are companions for younger brothers. [back. Col. S. Suppose one abused you behind your Sir H. Why, then, would I abuse him behind his back; so we're even. Col. S. But suppose you had lost a mistress. Sir H. Why, then, I would get another. Col. S. But suppose you were discarded by the woman you love." Sir H. Colonel, my love is neither romantically honourable, nor meanly mercenary; 'tis only a pitch of gratitude; while she loves me, I love her; when she desists, the obligation's void. Col. S. But if the Lady Lurewell (only suppose it,) had discarded you-I say, only suppose it, and had sent your discharge by me. Sir H. Psha! that's another impossibility. Sir H. Why, 'twere a solecism in nature. She dances with me, sings with me, plays with me, |