Lady G. I hope, at least, it will stand as an excuse for my taking this liberty.

Manly. I never yet saw you do any thing, madam, that wanted an excuse; and I hope you will not give me an instance to the contrary, by refusing the favour I am going to ask you.

Lady G. I don't believe I shall refuse any, that you think proper to ask.

Manly. Only this, madam, to indulge me so far as to let me know how this letter came into your hands. Lady G. Enclosed to me in this, without a name. Manly. If there be no secret in the contents, madam

Lady G. Why-there is an impertinent insinuation in it; but, as I know your good sense will think it so too, I will venture to trust you.

Manly. You'll oblige me, madam.

[He takes the other letter, and reads. Lady G. [Aside.] Now am I in the oddest situation! methinks, our conversation grows terribly criticalThis must produce something-Oh lud, 'would it were over!

Manly. Now, madam, I begin to have some light into the poor project that is at the bottom of all this. Lady G. I have no notion of what could be proposed by it.

Manly. A little patience, madam-First, as to the insinuation you mention

Lady G. Oh! what is he going to say now? [Aside. Manly. Though my intimacy with my lord may have allowed my visits to have been very frequent here of late; yet, in such a talking town as this, you must not wonder, if a great many of those visits are placed to your account: and this taken for granted, I suppose, has been told to my Lady Wronghead, as a piece of news, since her arrival, not improbably, with many more imaginary circumstances.

Lady G. My Lady Wronghead!

Manly. Ay, madam; for I am positive this is her hand.

Lady G. What view could she have in writing it?

Manly. To interrupt any treaty of marriage she may have heard I am engaged in; because, if I die without heirs, her family expects that some part of my estate may return to them again. But I hope she is so far mistaken, that, if this letter has given you the least uneasiness-I shall think that the happiest moment of my life.

Lady G. That does not carry your usual complaisance, Mr. Manly.

Manly. Yes, madam, because I am sure I can convince you of my innocence.

Lady G. I am sure I have no right to inquire into it. Manly. Suppose you may not, madam; yet you may very innocently have so much curiosity.

Lady G. Well, sir, I won't pretend to have so little of the woman in me, as to want curiosity-But pray, do you suppose, then, this Myrtilla is a real, or a fictitious name?

Manly. Now I recollect, madam, there is a young woman in the house, where my Lady Wronghead lodges, that I heard somebody call Myrtilla-this letter may have been written by her-But how it came directed to me, I confess, is a mystery, that, before I ever presume to see your ladyship again, I think myself obliged in honour to find out. [Going.

Lady G. Mr. Manly-you are not going?

Manly. 'Tis but to the next street, madam; I shall be back in ten minutes.

Lady G. Nay, but dinner's just coming up.

Manly. Madam, I can neither eat nor rest, till I see an end of this affair.

Lady G. But this is so odd! why should any silly curiosity of mine drive you away?

Manly. Since you won't suffer it to be yours, madam -then it shall be only to satisfy my own curiosity.

[Exit.

Lady G. Well-and now, what am I to think of all this? Or suppose an indifferent person had heard every word we have said to one another, what would they have thought on't? Would it have been very absurd to conclude, he is seriously inclined to pass the rest of his life with me?-I hope not-for I am sure the case is terribly clear on my side.

Enter MRS. TRUSTY.

Well, Mrs. Trusty, is my sister dressed yet?

Mrs. T. Yes, madam; but my lord has been courting her So, I think, till they are both out of humour. Lady G. How so?

Mrs. T. Why, it began, madam, with his lordship's desiring her ladyship to dine at home to-day-upon which, my lady said she could not be ready; upon that, my lord ordered them to stay the dinner-and then, my lady ordered the coach-then my lord took her short, and said, he had ordered the coachman to set up then, my lady made him a great courtesy, and said she would wait till his lordship's horses had dined, and was mighty pleasant; but, for fear of the worst, madam, she whispered me-to get her chair ready.

[Exit. Lady G. Oh, here they come! and, by their looks, seem a little unfit for company.

[Exit.

Enter LADY TOWNLY, LORD TOWNLY following. Lady T. Well, look you, my lord, I can bear it no longer; nothing still, but about my faults-my faults! an agreeable subject, truly!

Lord T. Why, madam, if you won't hear of them, how can I ever hope to see you mend them?

Lady T. Why, I don't intend to mend them-I can't

mend them-you know I have tried to do it a hundred times-and-it hurts me so-I can't bear it.

Lord T. And I, madam, can't bear this daily licentious abuse of your time and character.

Lady T. Abuse! astonishing! when the universe knows I am never better company than when I am doing what I have a mind to. But, to see this world! that men can never get over that silly spirit of contradiction!-Why, but last Thursday, now!-there you wisely amended one of my faults, as you call them— you insisted upon my not going to the masqueradeand pray, what was the consequence? Was not I as cross as the devil all the night after? Was not I forced to get company at home? And was it not almost three o'clock this morning before I was able to come to myself again? And then the fault is not mended neither-for next time I shall only have twice the inclination to go: so that all this mending, and mending, you see, is but darning old lace, to make it worse than it was before.

Lord T. Well, the manner of women's living, of late, is insupportable! and one way or other

Lady T. It's to be mended, I suppose-why, so it may; but then, my dear lord, you must give one time -and when things are at worst, you know, they may mend themselves, ha! ha!

Lord T. Madam, I am not in a humour now to trifle !

Lady T. Why, then, my lord, one word of fair argument-to talk with you in your own way, now— -You complain of my late hours, and I of your early ones— so far we are even, you'll allow-but, pray, which gives us the best figure in the eye of the polite world-my active, spirited three in the morning, or your dull, drowsy, eleven at night? Now, I think, one has the air of a woman of quality, and t'other, of a plodding mechanic, that goes to bed betimes, that he may rise early to open his shop-Faugh!

Lord T. Fie, fie, madam! is this your way of reasoning? 'tis time to wake you then-'Tis not your ill hours alone that disturb me, but as often, the ill company that occasion those ill hours.

Lady T. Sure, I don't understand you now, my lord; what ill company do I keep?

Lord T. Why, at best, women that lose their money, and men that win it; or, perhaps, men that are voluntary bubbles at one game, in hopes a lady will give him fair play at another. Then, that unavoidable mixture with known rakes, concealed thieves, and sharpers in embroidery-or, what to me is still more shocking, that herd of familiar, chattering, crop-eared coxcombs !

Lady T. And a husband must give eminent proof of his sense, that thinks their follies dangerous.

Lord T. Their being fools, madam, is not always the husband's security; or, if it were, fortune sometimes gives them advantages, that might make a thinking woman tremble.

Lady T. What do you mean?

Lord T. That women, sometimes, lose more than they are able to pay; and, if a creditor be a little pressing, the lady may be reduced to try, if, instead of gold, the gentleman will accept of a trinket.

Lady T. My lord, you grow scurrilous; you'll make me hate you! I'll have you to know, I keep company with the politest people in town, and the assemblies I frequent are full of such.

Lord T. So are the churches-now and then.

Lady T. My friends frequent them too, as well as the assemblies.

Lord T. Yes, and would do it oftener, if a groom of the chambers were allowed to furnish cards to the company.

Lady T. I see what you drive at all this while ;-you would lay an imputation on my fame, to cover your own