Man. In one word, your whole affairs stand thus---In a week, you'll lose your scat at Westminster: in a fortnight, my lady will run you into jail, by keeping the best companyIn four-and-twenty hours, your daughter will run away with a sharper, because she han't been used to better company and your son will steal into marriage with a cast mistress, because he has not been used to any company at all. Sir Fran. I' th' name o' goodness, why should you think all this? Man. Because I have proof of it; in short, I know so much of their secrets, that if all this is not prevented to-night, it will be out of your power to do it to-morrow morning. Sir Fran. Mercy upon us! you frighten me--Well, sir, I will be governed by you: but what am I to do in this case? brought to play himself, madam, then he might feel what it is to want money. Lady Town. Oh, don't talk of it! do you know that I am undone, Trusty? Trusty. Mercy forbid, madam! Lady Town. Broke, ruined, plundered!stripped, even to a confiscation of my last guinea! Trusty. You don't tell me so, madamı? the Lady Town. And where to raise ten pound in world-What is to be done, Trusty? Trusty. Truly, I wish I were wise enough to tell you, madam: but may be your ladyship may have a run of better fortune upon some of the good company that comes here to-night. Lady Town. But I have not a single guinea to try my fortune. Trusty. Ha! that's a bad business indeed, madam-Adad, I have a thought in my head, ma Man. I have not time here to give you pro-dam, if it is not too lateper instructions; but about eight this evening I'll call at your lodgings, and there you shall have full conviction how much I have it at heart to serve you. Lady Town. Out with it quickly, then, I beseech thee. Enter a Servant. Ser. Sir, my lord desires to speak with you. Sir Fran. Well, then, I'll go strait home, naw. Sir Fran. Ah, dear cousin! I shall be bound to you as long as I live. Mercy deliver us, what a terrible journey have I made on't! Trusty. Has not the steward something of fifty pounds, madam, that you left in his hands to pay somebody about this time? Lady Town. Oh, ay; I had forgot-'twas toa-what's his filthy name? Trusty. Now I remember, madam, 'twas to Mr Lutestring, your old mercer, that your ladyship turned off about a year ago, because he would trust you no longer. Lady Town. The very wretch! If he has not paid it, run quickly, dear Trusty, and bid him [Exeunt severally.bring it hither immediately-[Erit TRUSTY.] SCENE II.-Opens to a dressing-room. LADY TOWNLY, as just up, walks to her toilet, leaning on MRS TRUSTY. Trusty. Dear madam, what should make your ladyship so out of order? Lady Town. How is it possible to be well, where one is killed for want of sleep? Trusty. Dear me! it was so long before you rung, madam, I was in hopes your ladyship had been finely composed. Lady Town. Composed! why I have lain in an inn here; this house is worse than an inn with ten stage-coaches: what between my lord's impertinent people of business in a morning, and the intolerable thick shoes of footmen at noon, one has not a wink all night. Trusty. Indeed, madam, it's a great pity my lord can't be persuaded into the hours of people of quality-though I must say that, madam, your ladyship is certainly the best matrimonial manager in town. Lady Town. Oh, you are quite mistaken, Trusty! I manage very ill; for, notwithstanding all the power I have, by never being over-fond of my lord--yet I want money infinitely oftener than he is willing to give it me. Trusty. Ah! if his lordship could but be VOL. II. Well, sure mortal woman never had such fortune! five, five and nine, against poor seven for ever- -No, after that horrid bar of my chance, that lady Wronghead's fatal red fist upon the table, I saw it was impossible ever to win another stake—Sit up all night; lose all one's money; dream of winning thousands; wake without a shilling; and then- -How like a hag I look! In short-the pleasures of life are not worth this disorder. If it were not for shame, now, I could almost think lady Grace's sober scheme not quite so ridiculous If my wise lord could but hold his tongue for a week, 'tis odds but I should hate the town in a fortnight—But I will not be driven out of it, that's positive. Trusty. Oh, it's well you are come, sir! where's the fifty pounds? Pound. Why, here it is; if you had not been in such haste, I should have paid it by this time -the man's now writing a receipt, below, for it. Trusty. No matter; my lady says you must not pay him with that money! there's not enough, it seems; there's a pistole, and a guinea, that is not good, in it--besides, there is a mistake in the account, too-[Twitches the bag from him.] But she is not at leisure to examine it now; so you must bid Mr What-d'ye-call-um call another time. Lady Town. What is all that noise there? Pound. Why, an it please your ladyship— Lady Town. Prithee, don't plague me now; but do as you were ordered. Pound. Nay, what your ladyship pleases, madam[Exit POUNDAGE. Trusty. There they are, madam-[Pours the money out of the bag.]—The pretty things were so near falling into a nasty tradesman's hand, I protest it made me tremble for them-I fancy your ladyship had as good give me that bad guinea, for luck's sake-Thank you, madam. [Takes a guinea. Lady Town. Why, I did not bid you take it? Trusty. No; but your ladyship looked as if you were just going to bid me; and so I was willing to save you the trouble of speaking, madam. Lady Town. Well, thou hast deserved it; and so, for once-but hark! don't I hear the man making a noise yonder? Though, I think, now, we may compound for a little of his ill-humourTrusty. I'll listen. Lady Town. Prithee, do. [TRUSTY goes to the door. Trusty. Ay, they are at it, madam-he's in a bitter passion with poor Poundage-Bless me! I believe he'll beat him-Mercy on us, how the wretch swears! Lady Town. And a sober citizen, too! that's a shame. Trusty. Ha! I think all's silent of a sudden Lord Town. How comes it, madam, that a tradesman dares be clamorous in my house, for money due to him from you? Lady Town. You don't expect, my lord, that I should answer for other people's impertinence? Lord Town. I expect, madam, you should answer for your own extravagancies, that are the occasion of it--I thought I had given you money three months ago, to satisfy all these sort of people. Lady Town, Yes; but you see they never are to be satisfied. Lord Town. Nor am I, madam, longer to be abused thus; what's become of the last five hundred I gave you? Lady Town. Gone. Lord Town. Gone! What way, madam? Lady Town. Half the town over, I believe, by this time. Lord Town. 'Tis well; I see ruin will make. no impression, till it falls upon you. Lady Town. In short, my lord, if money is always the subject of our conversation, I shall make you no answer. Lord Town. Madam, madam, I will be heard, and make you answer. Lady Town. Make me! Then I must tell you, my lord, this is a language I have not been used to, and I won't bear it. Lord Town. Come, come, madam, you shall bear a great deal more, before I part with you. Lady Town. My lord, if you insult me, you will have as much to bear on your side, I can as sure you. Lord Town. Pooh! Your spirit grows ridicu lous-You have neither honour, worth, or innocence to support it. Lady Town. You'll find, at least, I have resentment; and do you look well to the provocation. Lord Town. After those you have given me, | in the world, that keeps his misfortunes out of madam, 'tis almost infamous to talk with you. Lady Town. I scorn your imputation, and your menaces. The narrowness of your heart's your monitor; 'tis there, there, my lord, you are wounded: you have less to complain of than many husbands of an equal rank to you. not Lord Town. Death, madam! Do you presume upon your corporal merit, that your person's less tainted than your mind? Is it there, there alone, an honest husband can be injured? Have you every other vice that can debase your birth, or stain the heart of woman? Is not your health, your beauty, husband, fortune, family disclaimed, for nights consumed in riot and extravagance? The wanton does no more; if she conceals her shame, does less and sure the dissolute avowed, as sorely wrongs my honour and my quiet. Lady Town. I see, my lord, what sort of wife might please you. doors, than he that tamely keeps them within. Lady Town. I don't know what figure you may make, my lord; but I shall have no reason to be ashamed of mine, in whatever company I may meet you. Lord Town. Be sparing of your spirit, madam; you'll need it to support you. Enter LADY GRACE and MANLY. Mr Manly, I have an act of friendship to beg of you, which wants more apologies than words can make for it. Man. Then, pray, make none, my lord, that I may have the greater merit in obliging you. Lord Town. Sister, I have the same excuse to intreat of you, too. Lady Grace. To your request, I beg, my lord. Lord Town. Thus, then-As you both were present at my ill-considered marriage, I Lord Town. Ungrateful woman! Could you now desire you each will be a witness of my dehave seen yourself, you, in yourself, had seen her termined separation-I know, sir, your good-na-I am amazed our legislature has left no prece- ture, and my sister's, must be shocked at the ofdent of a divorce for this more visible injury, fice I impose on you; but as I don't ask your this adultery of the mind, as well as that of the justification of my cause, so I hope you are conperson! When a woman's whole heart is alien-scious-that an ill woman can't reproach you, if ated to pleasures I have no share in, what is it to me, whether a black ace, or a powdered coxcomb, has possesion of it? Lady Town. If you have not found it yet, my lord, this is not the way to get possession of mine, depend upon't. Lord Town. That, madam, I have long despaired of; and, since our happiness cannot be mutual, 'tis fit, that, with our hearts, our persons, too, should separate. This house you sleep no more in though your content might grossly feed upon the dishonour of a husband, yet my desires would starve upon the features of a wife. Lady Town. Your style, my lord, is much of the same delicacy with your sentiments of ho nour. Lord Town. Madam, madam, this is no time for compliments-I have done with you. Lady Town. If we had never met, my lord, I had not broke my heart for it: but have a care; I may not, perhaps, be so easily recalled as you may imagine. Lord Town. Recalled! Whose there? Enter a Servant. Desire my sister and Mr Manly to walk up. Lady Town. My lord, you may proceed as you please; but, pray, what indiscretions have I committed, that are not daily practised by a hundred other women of quality? Lord Town. 'Tis not the number of ill wives, madam, that makes the patience of a husband less contemptible: and though a bad one may be the best man's lot, yet, he'll make a better figure you are silent, on her side. Man. My lord, I never thought, till now, it could be difficult to oblige you. Lady Grace. [Aside.] Heavens, how I tremble! Lord Town. For you, my lady Townly, I need not here repeat the provocations of my parting with you- -the world, I fear, is too well informed of them-For the good lord, your dead father's sake, I will still support you as his daughter-As Lord Townly's wife, you have had every thing a fond husband could bestow, and (to our mutual shame I speak it) more than happy wives desire-But those indulgences must end; state, equipage, and splendour, but ill become the vices that misuse them-The decent necessaries of life shall be supplied-but not one article to luxury; not even the coach, that waits to carry you from hence, shall you ever use again. Your tender aunt, my lady Lovemore, with tears, this morning, has consented to receive you; where, if time and your condition bring you to a due reflection, your allowance shall be increased but if you are still lavish of your little, or pine for past licentious pleasures, that little shall be less: nor will I call that soul my friend, that names you in my hearing. Lady Grace. My heart bleeds for her. [Aside. Lord Town. Oh, Manly, look there! turn back thy thoughts with me, and witness to my growing love. There was a time, when I believed that form incapable of vice, or of decay; there I proposed the partner of an easy home; there I, for ever, hoped to find a cheerful companion, an agreeable intimate, a faithful friend, a useful help-mate, and a tender mother-but, oh! how | firmed. Wild with that fame, I thought mankind bitter now the disappointment! Man. The world is different in its sense of happiness; offended as you are, I know you will still be just. Lord Town. Fear me not. my slaves; I triumphed over hearts, while all my Man. This last reproach, I see, has struck her. [Aside. Lord Town. No, let me not (though I this moment cast her from my heart for ever) let me not urge her punishment beyond her crimes-I know the world is fond of any tale that feeds its appetite of scandal: and, as I am conscious severities of this kind seldom fail of imputationsly-spirited obeyed. I knew no directors, but too gross to mention, I here, before you both, acquit her of the least suspicion raised against the honour of my bed. Therefore, when abroad her conduct may be questioned, do her fame that justice. Lady Town. Oh, sister! [Turns to LADY GRACE, weeping. Lord Town. When I am spoken of, where, without favour, this action may be canvassed, relate but half my provocations, and give me up to [Going. Lady Town. Support me! save me! hide me from the world! censure. [Falling on LADY GRACE's neck. Lord Town. [Returning.] I had forgot meYou have no share in my resentment; therefore, as you have lived in friendship with her, your parting may admit of gentler terms than suit the honour of an injured husband. [Offers to go out, Man. [Interposing.] My lord, you must not, shall not leave her thus! One moment's stay can do your cause no wrong! If looks can speak the anguish of her heart, I'll answer with my life, there's something labouring in her mind, that, would you bear the hearing, might deserve it. Lord Town. Consider! since we no more can meet, press not my staying to insult her. But as Lady Town. Yet stay, my lord the little I would say will not deserve an insult; and, undeserved, I know your nature gives it not. you've called in friends to witness your resentment, let them be equal hearers of my last reply. Lord Town. I shan't refuse you that, madam -be it so. Lady Town. My lord, you ever have complained I wanted love; but, as you kindly have allowed I never gave it to another; so, when you hear the story of my heart, though you may still complain, you will not wonder at my coldness. Lady Grace. This promises a reverse of tem[Apart. Man. This, my lord, you are concerned to hear. per. Lord Town. Proceed; I am attentive. Lady Town. Before I was your bride, my lord, the flattering world had talked me into beauty, which, at my glass, my youthful vanity con my passions! no master, but my will! Even you, my lord, some time o'ercome by love, was pleased with my delights, nor then foresaw this mad misuse of your indulgence --And, though I call myself ungrateful, while I own it, yet, as a truth, it cannot be denied that kind indulgence has undone me; it added strength to my habitual failings; and, in a heart thus warm, in wild unthinking life, no wonder if the gentler sense of love was lost. Lord Town. Oh, Manly! where has this creature's heart been buried? Man. If yet recoverable treasure! [Apart. -How vast the [Apart. Lady Town. What I have said, my lord, is not my excuse, but my confession; my errors (give them, if you please, a harder name) cannot be defended. No! What's in its nature wrong, no words can palliate, no plea can alter. What then remains in my condition, but resignation to your pleasure? Time only can convince you of my future conduct: therefore, till I have lived an object of forgiveness, I dare not hope for pardon-The penance of a lonely, contrite life, were little to the innocent; but, to have deserved this separation, will strow perpetual thorns upon my pillow. Lady Grace. Oh, happy, heavenly hearing! Lady Toan. Sister, farewell! [Kissing her.] Your virtue needs no warning from the shame that falls on me: but when you think I have atoned my follies past-persuade your injured brother to forgive them. Lord Town. No, madam! Your errors, thus renounced, this instant are forgiven! So deep, so due a sense of them, has made you what my utmost wishes formed, and all my heart has sighed for. Lady Town. [Turning to LADY GRACE.] HOW odious does this goodness make me! Lady Grace. How amiable your thinking so! Lord Town. Long parted friends, that pass through easy voyages of life, receive but common gladness at their meeting: but from a shipwreck saved, we mingle tears with our embraces! [Embracing LADY TOWNLY. Lady Town. What words, what love, what duty, can repay such obligations! Lord Town. Preserve but this desire to please, your power is endless. After some time, LORD and LADY TOWNLY, with LADY GRACE, enter to them, unmasked. Lord Town. So! here's a great deal of company. Lady Town. A great many people, my lord, but no company- -as you'll findhere's one now that seems to have a mind to en Lady Town. Oh!-till this moment never did I know, my lord, I had a heart to give you. Lord Town. By Heaven! this yielding hand, when first it gave you to my wishes, presented not a treasure more desirable! Oh, Manly! sister! as you have often shared in my disquiet, partake now of my felicity! my new-born joy!tertain us. see, here, the bride of my desires! This may be called my wedding-day. Lady Grace. Sister, (for now, methinks, that name is dearer to my heart than ever) let me congratulate the happiness that opens to you. Man. Long, long, and mutual, may it flowLord Town. To make our happiness complete, my dear, join here with me to give a hand, that amply will repay the obligation. Lady Town. Sister, a day like this- general joy. Man. A joy like mine to speak it. Lord Town. Oh, Manly, how the name of friend endears the brother! [Embracing him. Man. Your words, my lord, will warm me to deserve them. Lord Town. No matter: not to see them, would on a sudden be too particular. Lady Grace will assist you to entertain them. Lady Town. With her, my lord, I shall be always easy- -Sister, to your unerring virtue I now commit the guidance of my future days Never the paths of pleasure more to tread, [Exeunt. -for [A Mask, after some affected gesture, makes up to LADY TOWNLY. Mask. Well, dear lady Townly, sha'n't we see you by-and-by? you, madam. Lady Town. I don't know [In a squeaking tone. Lady Town. Not I, indeed. guess? Lady Town. Yes, I could guess wrong, I be lieve. Mask. That's what I'd have you do. Lady Town. But, madam, if I don't know you at all, is not that as well? Mask. Ay, but you do know me. Lady Town. Dear sister, take her off my Lady Grace. Because I have heard you talk. sure. Lady Grace. There is something in your wit and humour, madam, so very much your own, it is impossible you can be any body but my lady Trifle. Mask. [Unmasking.] Dear lady Grace! thou art a charming creature. Lady Grace. Is there nobody else we know here? Mask. Oh dear, yes! I have found out fifty already. Lady Grace. Pray who are they? Mask. Oh, charming company! there's lady Ramble- -lady Riot- -lady Kill-care-lady Squanderlady Strip-lady Pawn-and the dutchess of Single Guinea. Lord Town. Is it not hard, my dear, that people of sense and probity are sometimes forced to seem fond of such company? [Apart. Lady Town. My lord, it will always give me pain to remember their acquaintance, but none to drop it immediately. [Apart. Lady Grace. But you have given us no account of the men, madam, Are they good for any thing? Mask. Oh, yes, you must know, I always find out them by their endeavours to find out SCENE III-Opening to another apartment, Lady Grace. Pray, who are they? Mask. Why, for your men of tip-top wit and |