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Par. There will be mischief by and by; I never heard a woman talk so much of eyes, but there were tears presently after.

Lure. His discourse was directed to my father, but his looks to me. After supper I went to my chamber, and read Cassandra, then went to bed, and dreamed of him all night, “ rose in the morning, and made

verses,” so fell desperately in love.—My father was so well pleased with his conversation, that he begged their company next day; they consented, and next night, Parly

Par. Ah, next night, madam-next night (I'm afraid) was a night indeed.

Lure. He bribed my maid, with his gold, out of her honesty; and me, with his rhetoric, out of my honour-She admitted him into my chamber, and there he vowed, and swore, and wept, and sighed—and Conquered.

[Weeps. Par. A-lack-a-day, poor

fifteen.

[Weeps. Lure. He swore that he would come down from Oxford in a fortnight, and marry me.

Par. The old bait, the old bait- I was cheated just so myself. [Aside.]—But had not you the wit to know his name all this while?

Lure. Alas, what wit had innocence like mine? He told me, that he was under an obligation to his companions of concealing himself then, but that he would write to me in two days, and let me know his name and quality. After all the binding oaths of conStancy, “ joining hands, exchanging hearts,” I gave him a ring with this motto : Love and honour:'then we parted, and I never saw the dear deceiver

more.

Par. No, nor never will, I warrant you. Lure. I need not tell my griefs, which my father's leath made a fair pretence for; he left me sole heiress ind executrix to three thousand pounds a year: at ast, my love for this single dissembler turned to a latred of the whole sex ; and, resolving to divert my nelancholy, and make my large fortune subservient o my pleasure and revenge, I went to travel, where, i most courts of Europe, I have done some exeution. Here I will play my last scene; then rere to my country-house, live solitary, and die a peitent. Pur. But don't you still love this dear dissembler ? Lure. Most certainly. 'Tis love of him that keeps ay anger warm, representing the baseness of manind full in view; and makes my resentments work-Ve shall have that old impotent lecher, Smuggler, cre to night; I have a plot to swinge him, and his recise nephew, Vizard.

Par. I think, madam, you manage every body that mes in your way.

Lure. No, Parly; those men, whose pretensions I und just and honourable, I fairly dismissed, by let. ng them know my firm resolutions never to marry. ut those villains that would attempt my honour, I've Idom failed to manage.

Par. What d'ye think of the colonel, madam? I suppose his designs are honourable.

Lure. That man's a riddle; there's something of honour in his temper that pleases; I'm sure he loves me too, because he's soon jealous, and soon satisfied. But he's a man still. When I once tried his pulse about marriage, his blood ran as low as a coward's.He swore, indeed, that he loved me, but could not marry me, forsooth, because he was engaged else. where. So poor a pretence made me disdain his passion, which otherwise might have been uneasy to me. -But hang him, I have teased him enough—Besides, Parly, 1 begin to be tired of my revenge: but this buss and guinea I must maul once more,

I'll hansel his woman's clothes for him. Go get me pen and ink; I must write to Vizard too.

Fortune, this once assist me as before :
Two such machines can never work in vain,
ds thy propitious wheel, and my proje&ting brain.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Covent Garden. WildAir and STANDARD meeting.

Standard. I thought, Sir Harry, to have met you ere this in a more convenient place; but since my wrongs were without ceremony, my revenge shall be so too. Draw, sir.

Wild. Draw, sir! What shall I draw?

Stand. Come, come, sir, I like your facetious hu. mour well enough ; it shews courage and unconcern. I know you brave; and therefore use you thus.Draw your sword.

Wild. Nay, to oblige you, I will draw; but the devil take me if I fight.-Perhaps, colonel, this is the prettiest blade you have seen.

Stand. I doubt not but the arm is good; and there. fore think both worth my resentment. Come, sir.

Wild. But, pr’ythee, colonel, dost think that I am such a madman, as to send my soul to the devil and body to the worms -upon every fool's errand ?

[dside. Stand. I hope you're no coward, sir. Wild. Coward, sir! I have eight thousand pounds

a year, sir.

Stand. You fought in Flanders, to my knowledge.

Wild. Ay, for the same reason that I wore a red coat; because 'twas fashionable.

Stand. Sir, you fought a French count in Paris.

Wild. True, sir; but there was no danger of lands nor tenements : besides, he was a beau, like myself. Now you're a soldier, colonel, and fighting's your trade; and I think it downright madness to contend with any man in his profession. Stand. Come, sir, no more dallying; I shall take

G

very unseemly methods, if you don't shew yourself a gentleman.

Wild. A gentleman! Why there again now. A gentleman! I tell you once more, colonel, that I am a baronet, and have eight thousand pounds a year. I can dance, sing, ride, fence, understand the languages

-Now I cann't conceive how running you through the body should contribute one jot more to my gentility. But pray, colonel, I had forgot to ask you, what's the quarrel ?

Stand. A woman, sir.
Wild. Then I put up my sword. Take her.
Stand. Sir, my honour's concerned.

Wild. Nay, if your honour be concerned with a woman, get it out of her hands as soon as you can.An honourable lover is the greatest slave in nature: sone will say, the greatest fool. Come, come, colonel, this is something about the Lady Lurewell, I warrant; I can give you satisfaction in that affair.

Stand. Do so then immediately.

Wild. Put up your sword first; you know I dare fight: but I had much rather make you a friend than an enemy. I can assure you, this lady will prove too hard for one of your temper. You have too much honour, too much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies.

Stand. I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement. .

Wild. A man can never hear reason with a sword

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