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Cyn. Write, what?

Lady F. Songs, elegies, satires, encomiums, panegyrics, lampoons, plays, or heroic poems.

Cyn. O lord, not I, madam; I'am content to be a

courteous reader.

Lady F. O inconsistent! in love, and not write if my lord and I had been both of your temper, we had never come together-O bless me ! what a sad thing would that have been, if my lord and I should 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: for your honest man, as I take it, is that nice, scrupulous, conscientious person who will cheat nobody Lady F. O my conscience no more we should; but himself; such another coxcomb as your wise thou say'st right for sure my Lord Froth is as man, who is too hard for all the world, and will be fine a gentleman, and as much a man of quality! Ah! made a fool of by nobody but himself. Ha, ha, ha; nothing at all of the common air--I think I may well, for wisdom and honesty give me cunning and say, he wants nothing but a blue riband and a star, hypocrisy; Oh, 'tis such a pleasure to angle for fairto make him shine the very phosphorus of our hemi-faced fools?-Then that hungry gudgeon Credulity sphere. Do you understand those two hard words? you don't I'll explain them to you.

Cyn. Then neither my lord nor you would ever have met with your match, on my conscience.

structions.

Cyn. Yes, yes, madam, I am not so ignorant.At least I won't own it, to be troubled with your in[Aside. Lady F. Nay, I beg your pardon; but being derived from the Greek, I thought you might have escaped the etymology.-But I am the more amazed, to find you a woman of letters, and not write! Bless me! how can Mellefont believe you love him?

Cyn. Why, faith, madam, he that won't take my word, shall never have it under my hand,

Lady F. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but methinks he wants a manner.

Cyn. A manner! What's that, madam?

will bite at any thing-Why, let me see, I have
the same face, the same words and accents when I
speak what I do think, and when I speak what I do
not think-the very same-and dear dissimulation is
the only art not to be known from nature.

Why will mankind be fools, and be deceiv'd?
And why are friends' and lovers' oaths believ'd?
When each who searches strictly his own mind,
May so much fraud and power of baseness find.
[Double Dealer.

AN OVER-RIGHTEOUS LADY.

CARELESS and MELLEFONT.

Care. Mellefont, get out of the way, my lady Plyant's coming, and I shall never succeed while thou Lady F. Some distinguishing quality, as for exam- art in sight-tho' she begins to tack about; but I ple, the bel air or brilliant of Mr. Brisk; the solem-made love a great while to no purpose. nity, yet complaisance of my lord, or something of his own that should look a little je ne sçai quoi; he is too much a mediocrity in my mind. Cyn. He does not indeed affect either pertness or formality, for which I like him. [Double Dealer.

MASKWELL'S SOLILOQUY.

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 Cynthia, let thy beauty gild my crimes; and what- her chamber door; and that the first favour he resoever I commit of treachery or deceit shall be im-ceived from her was a piece of an old scarlet petticoat

for a stomacher; which, since the day of his mar-woman never thinks a man truly in love with her 'till riage, he has, out of a piece of gallantry, converted he has been fool enough to think of her out of her into a night-cap, and wears it still with much solem- sight, and to lose so much time as to write to her. nity on his anniversary wedding night.

Mel. That I have seen, with the ceremony thereunto belonging-for on that night he creeps in at the bed's feet, like a gulled Bassa that has married a relation of the Grand Signior, and that night he has his arms at liberty. Did she not tell you at what a distance she keeps him? He has confessed to me, that but at some certain times, that is, I suppose, when she apprehends being with child, he never has the privilege of using the familiarity of a husband with a wife. He was once given to scrambling with his hands, and sprauling in his sleep, and ever since she has swaddled him up in blankets, and his hands and feet swathed down, and so put to bed; and there he lies with a great beard like a Russian bear upon a drift of snow. You are very great with him. I wonder he never told you his grievances; he will, I warrant you.

Care. Excessively foolish!- -But that which gives me most hopes of her, is her telling me of the many temptations she has resisted.

FRIENDS IN NEED.

[Double Dealer.

Young WOULDBE and RICHMOre.

Y. W. Come, Frank, canst thou lend me a brace of hundred pounds?

Rich. What would you do with them?

Y. W. Do with them? There's a question indeed
-Do you think I would eat them?

Rich. Yes, o' my troth would you, and drink them together. Look 'e, Mr. Wou'dbe, whilst you kept well with your father, I could have ventured to have lent you five guineas. But as the case stands, I cau assure you I have lately paid off my sister's fortune, and

bring you forty shillings.

Y. W. Sir, this put-off looks like an affront, when you know I don't use to take such things. Rich. Sir, your demand is rather an affront, when you know I don't use to give such things. Y. W. Sir, I'll pawn my honour. Rich. That's mortgaged already for more than it is Mel. Nay, then you have her; for a woman's brag-worth; you had better pawn your sword there 'twill ging to a man that she has overcome temptations, is an argument that they were weakly offered, and a challenge to him to engage her more irresistibly. 'Tis only an enhancing the price of the commodity, by telling you how many customers have underbid her. Care. Nay, I don't despair-but still she has a Rich. Why, go to a magistrate, and swear you grudging to you-I talked to her t'other night at my would have robbed me of two hundred pounds.— Lord Froth's masquerade, when I am satisfied she Look'e sir, you have been often told, that your exknew me, and I had no reason to complain of my re-travagance would some time or other be the ruin of ception; but I find women are not the same bare-you; and it will go a great way in your indictment, fac'd and in masks--and a vizor disguises their in- to have turned the pad upon your friend. clinations as much as their faces.

Y. W. 'Sdeath, sir-[Takes his sword off the table. Rich. Hold, Mr. Wou'dbe-suppose I put an end to your misfortunes all at once.

Y. W. How, sir?

Y.W. This usage is the height of ingratitude from

Mel. 'Tis a mistake; for women may most pro-you, in whose company I have spent my fortune. perly be said to be unmasked when they wear vizors; for that secures them from blushing and being out of countenance, and next to being in the dark, or alone, they are most truly themselves in a vizor mask. Here they come. I'll leave you. Ply her close, and by and by clap a billet-doux into her hand; for a

Rich. I'm therefore a witness, that it was very ill spent-why would you keep company, be at equal expenses with me that have fifty times your estate. What was gallantry in me, was prodigality in you: mine was health, because I could pay for it; yours la disease, because you could not.

Y. W. And is this all I must expect from our friendship? Rich. Friendship! sir, there can be no such thing without an equality.

Y. W. That is, there can be so such thing when there is occasion for't.

Rich. Right, sirour friendship was over a bottle only; and whilst you can pay your club of friendship, I'm that way your humble servant; but when once you come borrowing, I'm this wayyour humble servant.

[Exit. Y. W. Rich, big, proud, arrogant villain! I have been twice his second, thrice sick of the same love, and thrice cured by the same physic, and now he drops me for a trifle-That an honest fellow in his cups should be such a rogue when he is sober!--— The narrow-hearted rascal has been drinking coffee this morning. Well, thou dear solitary half-crown, adieu!Here, Jack, take this, pay for a bottle of wine, and bid Balderdash bring it himself. [Exit Serv.] How melancholy are my poor breeches; not one chink!Thou art a villainous hand, for thou hast picked my pocket.This vintner now has all the marks of an honest fellow, a broad face, a copious look, a strutting belly, and a jolly mien. I have brought him above three pounds a night for these two years successively. The rogue has money, I'm sure, if he would but lend it.

Enter BALDERDASH, with a bottle and glass.
Oh, Mr. Balderdash, good morrow.

Bald. Noble Mr. Wou'dbe, I'm your most humble servant. I have brought you a whetting-glass, the best old hock in Europe; I know 'tis your drink in a morning.

Y. W. I'll pledge you, Mr. Balderdash.
Bald. Your health, sir.

[Drinks. Y. W. Pray, Mr. Balderdash, tell me one thing, but first sit down: now tell me plainly what you think of me ?

Bald. Think of you, sir! I think that you are the honestest, noblest gentleman, that ever drank a glass of wine; and the best customer that ever came into my house.

Y. w. And do you really think as you speak?

Bald. May this wine be my poison, sir, if I don't speak from the bottom of my heart. [Drinks.

Y. W, And how much money do you think I have spent in your house?

Bald. Why, truly, sir, by a moderate computation, I do believe that I have handled of your money the best part of five hundred pounds within these two years.

Y. W. Very well! And do you think that you lie under any obligation for the trade I have promoted to your advantage?

Bald. Yes, sir; and if I can serve you in any respect, pray command me to the utmost of my ability. Y. W. Well! thanks to my stars, there is still some honesty in wine. Mr. Balderdash, I embrace you and your kindness: I am at present a little low in cash, and must beg you to lend me a hundred pieces.

Bald. Why truly, Mr. Wou'dbe, I was afraid it would come to this; I have had it in my head several times to caution you upon your expenses: but you were so very genteel in my house, and your liberality became you so very well, that I was unwilling to say any thing that might check your disposition; but truly, sir, I can forbear no longer to tell you, that you have been a little too extravagant.

Y. W. But since you reaped the benefit of my extravagance, you will, I hope, consider my necessity.

Bald. Consider your necessity! I do with all my heart; and must tell you, moreover, that I will be no longer accessary to it: I desire you, sir, to frequent my house no more.

Y. W. How, sir!.

Bald. I say, sir, that I have an honour for my good lord your father, and will not suffer his son to run into any inconvenience: sir, I shall order my drawers not to serve you with a drop of wine. Would you have me connive at a gentleman's destruction? Y. W. But methinks, sir, that a person of your nice conscience should have cautioned me before.

Bald, Alas! sir, it was none of my business: would you have me be saucy to a gentleman that was my best customer? Lack-a-day, sir, had you money to hold it out still, I had been hanged rather

than be rude to you-But truly, sir, when a man is ruined 'tis but the duty of a Christian to tell him of it. Y. W. Will you lend me money, sir? Bald. Will you pay me this bill, sir?

Y. W. Lend me the hundred pound, and I'll pay the bill.

Bald. Pay me the bill, and I will--not lend you the hundred pounds, sir.- -But pray consider with yourself, now, sir; would not you think me an errant coxcomb, to trust a person with money that has always been so extravagant under my eye? whose profuseness I have seen, I have felt, I have handled? Have not I known you, sir, throw away ten pounds a night upon a covey of pit-partridges, and a settingdog? Sir, you have made my house an ill house: my very chairs will bear you no longer.-In short, sir, I desire you to frequent the Crown no more, sir.

Y. W. This is the punishment of heli; the very devil that tempted me to sin, now upbraids me with the crime. I have villainously murdered my fortune, and now its ghost, in the lank shape of poverty, [The Twin Rivals.

haunts me.

LEGAL INDUCEMENTS.

Y. W. I have got possession of the castle, and if I had but a little law to fortify me now, I believe we might hold it out a great while. Oh! here comes my attorney. Mr. Subtleman, your servant.

Enter SUBTLEMAN.

Sub. My lord, I wish you joy. My aunt has sent me to receive your commands.

Y. W. Has she told you any thing of the affair? Sub. Not a word, my lord.

Y. W. Why then-come nearer.- -Can you make a man right heir to an estate during the life of an elder brother?

Sub. I thought you had been the eldest.

Y. W. That we are not yet agreed upon; for you must know, there is an impertinent fellow that takes a fancy to dispute the seniority with me. For look'e, sir, my mother has unluckily sowed discord in the family, by bringing forth twins; my brother, 'tis truc, was first born; but I believe from the bottom of my heart I was the first begotten.

Sub. I understand-you are come to an estate and dignity, that by justice indeed is your own, but by law it falls to your brother.

Y. W. I had rather, Mr. Subtleman, it were his by justice, and mine by law: for I would have the strongest title, if possible.

Sub. I am very sorry there should happen any breach between brethren; so I think it would be but a Christian and charitable act to take away all farther disputes, by making you true heir to the estate by the last will of your father. Look 'e, I'll divide stakesyou shall yield the eldership and honour to him, and he shall quit his estate to you.

Y. W. Why, as you say, I don't much care if I do grant him the eldest, half an hour is but a trifle but how shall we do about the will? Who shall we get to

prove it?

Sub. Never trouble yourself for that: I expect a cargo of witnesses and usquebaugh by the first fair wind.

Y. W. But we can't stay for them: it must be done immediately.

Sub. Well, well; we'll find some body, I warrant you, to make oath of his last words.

Y. W. That's impossible; for my father died of an apoplexy, and did not speak at all.

Sub. That's nothing, sir: he's not the first dead man that I have made to speak.

Y. W. You're a great master of speech,, I don't question, sir; and I can assure you there will be ten guineas for every word you extort from him in my favour.

Sub. O, sir, that's encugh to make your great grandfather speak.

Y. W. Come, then, I'll carry you to my steward; he shall give you the names of the manors, and the true titles and denominations of the estate, and then you shall go to work. [The Twin Rivals.

INTERVIEW BETWEEN AN AUTHOR AND HIS
PUBLISHER.

SPRIGHTLY, VAMP, and CAPE. Cape. Oh, no, 'tis Mr. Vamp: Your commands, good sir?

THE LAUGHING PHILOSOPHER.

Vump. I have a word, master Cape, for your pri- l'of your secrecy that you may rely upon my commu¬

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Cape. Warranted originals.

Vamp. No, no; I don't deal in the sermon way, now; I lost money by the last I printed, for all 'twas wrote by a Methodist; but I believe, sir, if they ben't long, and have a good deal of Latin in 'em, I can get you a chap.

Spri. For what, sir?

nication.

Vamp. You will be safe--but, gadso! we must mind business, tho'. Here, master Cape, you must provide me with three taking titles for these pamphlets, and if you can think of a pat Latin motto for the largest

Cape. They shall be done.

Vamp. Do so, do so. Books are like women, master Cape; to strike they must be well dress'd; fine feathers make fine birds; a good paper, an elegant type, a handsome motto, and a catching title, has drove many a dull treatise thro' three editious.Did you know Harry Handy?

Spri. Not that I recollect.

Vamp. He was a pretty fellow; he had his Latin, ad anguem, as they say; he wou'd have turn'd you a fable of Dryden's, or an epistle of Pope's, into Latin verse in a twinkling! except Peter Hasty, the voyage-writer, he was as great a loss to the trade as any within my memory.

Cape. What carried him off?

Vamp. A halter; hang'd for clipping and coining, master Cape; I thought there was something the Vamp. The manuscript sermons you have wrote, matter by his not coming to our shop for a month or and want to dispose of.

Spri. Sermons that I have wrote ?

Vamp. Ay, ay; master Cape has been telling

me

Spri. He has; I am mightily oblig'd to him. Vamp. Nay, nay, don't be afraid; I'll keep council; old Vamp had not kept a shop so long at the Turnstile, if he did not know how to be secret; why, in the year fifteen, when I was in the treasonable way, I never squeak'd; I never gave up but one authos in my life, and he was dying of a consumption, so it never came to a trial.

Spri. Indeed!

Vamp. Never look here (shews the side of his head) crop'd close!-bare as a board!-and for nothing in the world but an innocent book of bawdy, as I hope for mercy: oh! the laws are very hard, very severe upon us.

Spri. You have given me, sir, so positive a proof

two: he was a pretty fellow !

Spri. Were you a great loser by his death? Vamp. I can't say ;-as he had taken to another course of living, his execution made a noise; it sold me seven hundred of his translations, besides his last dying speech and confession; I got it; he was mindful of his friends in his last moments: he was a pretty fellow !

Cape. You have no farther commands, Mr. Vamp? Vamp. Not at present; about the spring I'll deal with you, if we can agree for a couple of volumes in

octavo.

Spri. Upon what subject?

Vamp. I leave that to him; master Cape knows what will do, tho' novels are a pretty light summer reading, and do very well at Tunbridge, Bristol, and the other watering places: no bad commodity for the West India trade neither; let 'em be novels, master Cape.

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