Luc. Come in-Why, you have lock'd the door. Aug. Lock'd! is it lock'd?—for shame, for shamel thus am I sacrific'd to your ungenerous designs: she must come in.

Lord Abb. Stay, stay; she must not find me here; there's one retreat; your chamber; lock me in there; may still escape.

I

Luc. [Without.] What are you about, Miss Aubrey? -Let me in.

Aug. Where shall I turn myself? You've ruined all: if you're discovered, I shall never gain belief. Lord Abb. Be advised then :- we have only this chance left. [Goes to the bed-room door. Luc. [Without.] Miss Aubrey, if you don't let me in immediately, I shall call up mamma; so pray unlock the door.

Aug. I scarce know what I do. [Locks Lord Abb. in, then opens the outer door.] There, madam, you're obeyed.

Enter LUCINDA BRIDGEMORE.

Luc. Why, surely, you affect extraordinary privacy. -It seems you've had your Tyrrel in our absence. Aug. Yes, Mr. Tyrrel has been here.

Luc. Humph! you're in mighty spirits.

Aug. No, madam; my poor spirits suit my poor condition: you, I hope, are rich in every sense.

Luc. She's happy, I can see, though she attempts to hide it: I cann't bear her. [Aside.]——-Pray, Miss

Aubrey, what are your designs-to ruin this young

man?

Aug. Madam!

Luc. Can you now in your heart suppose that Mortimer will let his nephew marry you? Depend upon't (I tell you as your friend) as soon as that old cynic hears of it (which I have taken care he shall) your hopes are crushed at once.

Aug. When were they otherwise?

Luc. I don't know what to make of her she seems confus'd-her eyes wander strangely: watching the bed-room door-what is it she looks at

Aug. Where are you going?

Luc. Going! Nay, no where-she's alarmed. Miss Aubrey, I have a foolish notion in my head, that Mr. Tyrrel's in this house.

Aug. No, on my word-shall I light you to your

room?

Luc. So ready!-No; your own will serve: I can adjust my head-dress at your glass-Hey-day; all's fast-you've locked the door.

Aug. Have I, indeed?

Luc. Yes, have you, madam; and if my suspicion's true, your lover's in it-open it.

Aug. I beg to be excused.

Luc. Oh are you caught at last? Admit me.

Aug. You cannot sure be serious-think I've the sanction of a guest.

Luc. Ridiculous! I'll raise the house-let me come to the bell.'

Aug. Hold! hold ! you don't know what you do: for your own sake desist to save your own confu. sion, more than mine, desist, and seek no farther.

Luc. No, madam; if I spare you, may the shame that waits for you fall on my head.

Aug. At your own peril be it then! Look there. [Opens, and discovers Lord Abb.

Luc. Astonishing! Lord Abberville! This is indeed extraordinary; this, of all frolicks modern wit and gallantry have given birth to, is in the newest and the boldest stile.

Lord Abb. Upon my life, Miss Bridgemore, my visit has been intirely innocent.

Luc. Oh, yes! I give you perfect credit for your innocence; the hour, the place, your Lordship's character, the lady's composure, are all innocence itself. Cann't you affect a little surprise, ma'am, at finding a gentleman in your bed-room, though you placed him there yourself? So excellent an actress might pretend a fit on the occasion: Oh, you have not half your part.

Lord Abb. Indeed, Miss Bridgemore, you look upon this in too serious a light.

Luc. No, be assured; I'm charmed with your address; you are a perfect fashionable lover: so agreeable to invite us to your house, so well bred to be from home, and so considerate to visit poor Miss Aubrey in our absence: altogether I am puzzled which to prefer, your wit, politeness, or your honour. Aug. Miss Bridgemore, 'tis in vain to urge my inno

C

cence to you; Heaven and my own heart acquit me; I must endure the censure of the world.

Luc. O, madam, with Lord Abberville's protection you may set that at nought: to him I recommend you: your company in this house will not be very [Exit.

welcome.

Lord Abb. [To her as she goes out.] Then, madam, she shall come to mine; my house, my arms are open to receive her.-Fear nothing, set her at defiance resign yourself to my protection; you shall face your tyrant, out-face her, shine above her, put her down in splendor as in beauty; be no more the servile thing her cruelty has made you; but be the life, the leader of each public pleasure, the envy of all womankind, the mistress of my happiness—

Aug. And murderer of my own. No, no, my lord, I'll perish first; the last surviving orphan of a noble house, I'll not disgrace it: from these mean, unfeeling people, who to the bounty of my ancestors owe all they have, I shall expect no mercy; but you, whom even pride might teach some virtue, you to tempt me, you with unmanly cunning to seduce distress, yourself created, sinks you deeper in contempt than Heaven sinks me in poverty and shame. [Exit. Lord Abb. A very unpromising campaign truly one lady lost, and the other in no way of being gained. Well, I'll return to my company; there is this merit however in gaming, that it makes all losses appear trivial but its own.