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shall never be at leisure to receive any of his trouble. some visits.-Send to me to know when I should be at home!" Begonė, sir.”-I am sure he has made me an unfortunate woman.

[Wecps. Stand. Nay, then there is no certainty in nature; and truth is only falsehood well disguised.

Lure. Sir, had not I owned my fond, foolish passion, I should not have been subject to such unjust suspicions: but it is an ungrateful return. [Weeping.

Stand. “Now, where are all my firm resolves? I “ will believe her just. My passion raised my jea. “ lousy; then why mayn't love be as blind in finding “ faults, as in excusing them ?"--I hope, madam, you'll pardon me, since jealousy, that magnified my suspicion, is as much the effect of love, as my casiness in being satisfied.

Lure. Easiness in being satisfied ! “ You men have 'got an insolent way of extorting pardon, by per“ sisting in your faults.” No, no, sir; cherish your suspicions, and feed upon your jealousy : 'tis fit meat for your squeamish stomach.

With me all women should this rule pursue :
Who think us false, should never find us true.

[Exit in a rage.

Enter CLINCHER Senior in the Porter's Clothes. Clin. sen. Well, intriguing is the prettiest, pleasantest thing for a man of my parts.-- How shall we laugh at the husband when he is gone ?--How sillily he looks! He's in labour of hords already.---TW

make a colonel a cuckold! 'Twill be rare news for the alderman.

Stand. All this Sir Harry has occasioned; but he's brave, and will afford me a just revenge.-Oh, this is the porter I sent the challenge by. -Well, sir, have you found him?

Clin. sen. What the devil does he mean now ? Stand. Have you given Sir Harry the note, fellow? Clin. sen. The note! what note?

Stand. The letter, blockhead, which I sent by you to Sir Harry Wildair; have you seen him?

Clin. sen. Oh, lord, what shall I say now ? Seen him ? Yes, sir-No, sir.--I have, sir I have not, sir.

Stand. The fellow's mad. Answer me directly, sirralı, or I'll break your head.

Clin. sen. I know Sir Harry very well, sir; but as to the note, sir, I cann't remember a word on't: truth is, I have a very bad memory. Stand. Oh, sir, I'll quicken your memory.

[Strikes him. Clin. sen. Zauns, sir, hold ! did give him the note.

Stand. And what answer?
Clin. sen. I mean, I did not give him the note.
Stand. What, d'ye banter, rascal ?

[Strikes him again.
Clin. sen. Hold, sir, hold! He did send an answer.
Stand. What was't, villain ?
Clin. sen. Why, truly, sir, I have forgot it : I told
.: that I had a very treacherous memory.

Stand. I'll engage you shall remember me this month, rascal.

[Beats him off ; and exit.

Enter Lurewell and PARLY. Lure. Fort-bon, fort-bon, fort.bon! This is better than I expected; but fortune still helps the industrious.

Enter CLINCHER Senior. Clin. sen. Ah! the devil take all intriguing, say I, and him who first invented canes. - - That cursed colonel has got such a knack of beating his men, that he has left the mark of a collar of bandileers about my shoulders.

Lure. Oh, my poor gentleman, and was it beaten?

Clin. sen. Yes, I have been beaten. But where's my clothes ? my clothes ?

Lure. What, you won't leave me so soon, my dear, will ye? Clin. sen. Will yel-If ever I

peep

into a colonel's tent again, may I be forced to run the gauntlet. But my clothes, madam.

Lure. I sent the porter down stairs with them: did not you meet him?

Clin. sen. Meet him ? No, not I.

Par. No!-He went out at the back-door, and is run clear away, I'm afraid.

Clin. sen. Gone, say you, and with my clothes, my fine Jubilee clothesi-Oh, the rogue, the thief ! I'll have him hang'd for murder----But how shall I get home in this pickle ?

Par. I'm afraid, sir, the colonel will be back presently, for he dines at home.

Clin. sen. Oh, then I must sneak off. Was ever such an unfortunate beau, To have his coat well thrash'd, and lose his coat also?

[Exit. Lure. Thus the noble poet spoke truth: Nothing suits worse with vice than want of sense: Fools are still wicked at their own expence.

Par. Methinks, madam, the injuries you have suffered by men must be very great, to raise such heavy resentments against the whole sex.

Lure. The greatest injury that woman could sustain : they robbed me of that jewel, which preserved, exalts our sex almost to angels: but destroyed, debases us below the worst of brutes, mankind.

Par. But I think, madam, your anger should be only confined to the author of your wrongs.

Lure. The author! Alas, I know him not, " which “ makes my wrongs the greater."

Par. Not know him? 'Tis odd, madam, that a man should rob

you of that same jewel you mentioned, and you not know him.

Lure. Leave trifing: 'tis a subject that always sours my temper : but since, by thy faithful service, I have some reason to confide in your secresy, hear the strange relation.-Some twelve years ago, I lived at my fa.

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ther's house in Oxfordshire, blest with innocence, the ornamental, but weak guard of blooming beauty: I was then just fifteen, “ an age fatal to the female “ sex.”. Our youth is tempting, our innocence credulous, romances moving, love powerful, and men are-villains. Then it happened, that three young gentlemen from the university coming into the country, and being benighted, and strangers, called at my father's: he was very glad of their company, and offered them the entertainment of his house.

Par. Which they accepted, no doubt. Oh, these strolling collegians are never abroad, but upon some mischief.

Lure. They had some private frolic or design in their heads, as appeared by their not naming one ano. ther, which my father perceiving, out of civility, made no enquiry into their affairs; two of them had a heavy, pedantic, university air; a sort of disagree. able scholastic boorishness in their behaviour ; but the third

Par. Ah, the third, madam-the third of all things, they say,

is
very

critical. Lure. He was but in short, nature cut him out for my undoing ; he seemed to be about eighteen.

Par. A fit match for your fifteen as could be.

Lure. He had a genteel sweetness in his face, a graceful comeliness in his person, and his tongue was fit to sooth soft innocence into ruin. His very looks were witty, and his expressive eyes spoke softer, prettier things, than words could frame.

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