though he has punished me pretty sufficiently, by the Lord Harry.

Capt. Har. I don't like this affair at all, and tremble for my Sophia, when I see this odd soul so inveterate against her.

Gov. [To WOODVILLE.] Well, my lad! do you know I am as deep in all your secrets as your favourite valet de chambre?

Wood. I don't understand you, sir.

Gov. Pho, pho, pho! keep that face till I show thee one as solemn as my lord's. Why should not you please yourself, and marry your miss, instead of your father's? Both. Astonishing!

Gov. Od, if you turn out the honest fellow I take you for, I know a pretty round sum, an onion and a black coat may one day or other entitle you to; so never mind Lord Gravity's resentment.

Wood. I act from better motives, sir, and were unworthy your wealth could it tempt me to disobey the best of fathers.

Gov. [Passionately.] Why then marry Miss Mortimer; and oblige him: take a back seat in your own coach, get a family of pale-faced brats, born with ostrich feathers on their heads; and hate away a long life with all due decorum!-Zounds, here's a fellow more whimsical than even myself.-Yesterday you would have the puss, spite of every body; but, you no sooner find it in your power to oblige your best friend, by humouring your inclinations, than, lo! you are taken with a most violent fit of duty and submission !—Od, you don't know what you have lost by it!-But, since you are bent on crossing me, I'll cross you, and once for all too -My secret shall henceforth be as impenetrable as the philosopher's stone.-Ay, stare as you please, I'll give you more years than you have seen days to guess it in.

Capt. Har. What this uncle of our's can mean, is quite beyond my guess!

Wood. What signifies seeking to expound by reason, actions in which it had no share?-His brain is indubitably touched! But Cecilia lies heavy on my heart, and excludes every other thought.

Capt. Har. Time may explain the secret of that letter, which, I will lay my life, she despises :-A woman who did not, would have kept it from your hands.

Wood. That's true, indeed!-If I wrong her, and this was but an insult,—there is a noble sincerity in her own letter which sets suspicion at defiance.-If he stumbled on one word of truth during this visit the crisis of my fate approaches.—Oh, wherever thou art, if the exalted being I will still hope my Cecilia, thou shalt know I have at least deserved thee! [Exeunt.

ACT V.

Scene I.-A mean Room; boots, bridles, &c. hanging all round.

BRIDGET sitting very mournfully, her fine clothes in great disorder.- -A table by her, with a small roll, a glass of water, an old dogs-ear'd book, and a bit of lookingglass.

Brid. Dear heart! dear heart! what a miserable time have I pass'd! and, where I be to pass my whole life, my lord here only knows!-I have not much stomach indeed; neither have I much breakfast.

[Eats a bit of bread, and bursts into tears.

Enter the GOVERNOR.

Gov. Had I more sins to answer for, than a college of Jesuits, I surely expiate them all, by going through a

purgatory in this life beyond what they have invented for the other. This vulgar maux of mine haunts my imagination, in every shape but that I hoped to see her in; I dare hardly trust myself to speak to her!-Od, I would not have the extirpation of the whole female sex depend upon my casting vote, while I am in this hu

mour.

Brid. Mercy on me! here's that cross old gentleman again! What will become of me?-Do, pray, strange sir! be so generous as to tell me what is next to be done with me?

Gov. Why, just whatever I please, you audacious baggage!-[Aside.] Od, now, I think on't, I have a great mind to try a few soft words, and dive into all the secrets of the little ignoramus.-Come, suppose I had a mind to grant you your freedom, how would you requite me?

Brid. Dear heart! why I'd love you for ever and

ever.

Gov. Zounds, that's a favour I could very readily dispense with ;-and yet 'tis natural to the poor wench. -Ah! if thou had'st been a good girl, thou had'st been a happy one. Harkye, miss! confess all your sins; that's the only way to escape, I promise you! and, if you conceal the least, I'll- -do, I don't know what I'll do to you.

Brid. I will, I will, sir, indeed, as I hope to be married.

Gov. Married, you slut! bad as that is, it's too good for you.-Come, tell me all your adventures.-Describe the behaviour of the young villain who seduced you.Where did you see him first?

Brid. Ugh, Ugh,—at church, sir.

Gov. At church, quotha-a pretty place to commence an intrigue in!-and how long was it before you came to this admirable agreement?

Brid. Umh-Why-Sunday was Midsummer-eve,—

and Sunday after was madam's wedding-day,--and Monday was our fair, and

Gov. Oh, curse your long histories !-and, what then said Woodville?

Brid. Oh lord, nothing at all-why, it warn't he. Gov. No! [Ready to burst with passion.]-Who, who, who? tell me that, and quite distract me! Brid. Timothy Hobbs, 'squire's gardener.

Gov. An absolute clown.-[Walks about, half groaning with rage and disappointment.]-Who, oh! who would be a father?-I could laugh,-cry,-die,—with shame and anger!-Since the man, who corrupted, left her only one virtue, would he had deprived her of that too! -Oh, that she had but skill enough to lie well!

Brid. Whether I can or no, I'll never speak truth again, that's a sure thing! What do I get by it, or any poor souls of the female kind ?

Gov. I am incapable of thinking!-every plan, every resource, thus overturn'd.-I must be wiser than all the world! This fool's head of mine must take to teaching, truly! as if I could eradicate the stamp of nature, or regulate the senses by any thing but reason.-Don't pipe, baggage, to me !-you all can do that, when too late-when I have considered whether I shall hang myself or not, I'll let you know whether I shall tuck you up along with me, you little wretch, you! [Exit.

BRIDGET alone.

Brid. Well, sure I have at last guess'd where I am shut up!-it must be Bedlam; for the old gentleman is out of his mind, that's a sure thing.

Enter VANE.

Vane. Ha, ha, ha! my future father-in-law seems to have got a quietus of my intended; and, faith, so wou'd any man who was not in love with a certain forty thousand;-to be sure, in plain English, she is a glorious

mawkin! [To her.] Well, madam, how are you pleased with your present mode of living?

Brid. Living, do you call it ?—I think 'tis only starving. Why, I shall eat my way through the walls very shortly.

Vane. Faith, miss, they use you but so so, that's the truth on't and I must repeat, even to your face, what I said to my lord, that your youth, beauty, and accomplishments, deserve a better fate.

Brid. Dear heart! Bedlam, did I say I was in! why, I never knew a more sensibler, genteeler, prettier sort of a man in my life. [Aside.]-I am sure, sir, if I was to study seven years, I should never know what I have done to discommode them, not I.

Vane. Oh lard, my dear! only what is done every day by half your sex without punishment. However, you are to suffer for all, it seems. You see your fare for life-a dungeon, coarse rags, and the same handsome allowance of bread and water twice a day!

Brid. Oh, dear me !—why I shall be an otomy in a week!

Vane. And an old black to guard you, more sulky and hideous than those in the Arabian Nights Entertainments.

Brid. Why, sure they will let you come and see me, sir? I shall certainly swound away, every time I look at that nasty old black.

Vane. This is the last time your dungeon (which your presence renders a palace to me) will ever be open to one visitor-unless-unless-I cou'd contriveBut no, it would be my ruin: yet who wouldn't venture something for such a charming creature? You could endear even ruin.-Tell me, then, what reward you would bestow on a man who ventured all to give you freedom?

Brid. Nay, I don't know; you're such a dear sweet soul, I shan't stand with you for a trifle.