Servants pass over the stage.

Have you been for the money this morning, as I ordered you?

Ser. No, sir. You bade me go before you was up; I did not know your honour meant before you went to bed.

Ran. None of your jokes, I pray; but to business. Go to the coffee-house, and inquire if there has been any letter or message left for me. Ser. I shall, sir. Ran. [Repeats.]

"You think she's false; I'm sure she's kind:
I take her body, You her mind
"Which has the better bargain?'

;

Oh, that I had such a soft, deceitful fair, to lull my senses to their desired sleep! [Knocking at the door.] Come in.

Enter SIMON.

Oh, master Simon, is it you? How long have you been in town?

Sim. Just come, sir; and but for a little time neither; and yet I have as many messages as if we were to stay the whole year round. Here they are, all of them, [Pulls out a number of cards.] and, among them, one for your honour.

Ran. [Reads.] Clarinda's compliments to her 'cousin Ranger, and should be glad to see him 'for ever so little a time that he can be spared 'from the more weighty business of the law.' Ha, ha, ha! the same merry girl I ever knew her.

Sim. My lady is never sad, sir.

Ran. Civil! Egad, I think I am very civil. [Kisses her again.

Enter a Servant, and BELLAMY.

Ser. Sir, Mr Bellamy.

Ran. Damn your impertinence-Oh, Mr Bellamy, your servant.

Mil. What shall I say to my mistress?

Ran. Bid her make half a dozen more; but be sure you bring them home yourself. [Exit Milliner. Pshaw! Pox! Mr Bellamy, how should you like to be served so yourself?

Bel. How can you, Ranger, for a minute's pleasure, give an innocent girl the pain of heart I am confident she felt?There was a modest blush upon her cheek that convinces me she is honest.

Ran. May be so. I was resolved to try, however, had you not interrupted the experiment. Bel. Fy, Ranger! will you never think?

Ran. Yes; but I cannot be always athinking. The law is a damnable dry study, Mr Bellamy; and without something now and then to amuse and relax, it would be too much for my brain, I promise ye- -But I am a mighty sober feilow grown. Here have I been at it these three hours; but the wenches will never let me alone.

Bel. Three hours! Why, do you usually study in such shoes and stockings?

Ran. Rat your inquisitive eyes! Ex pede Herculem. Egad, you have me. The truth is, I am but this moment returned from the tavern. What, Frankly here, too!

Enter FRANKLY.

Ran. Pr'ythee, Simon, open the door.
Enter Milliner.

Well, child and who are you?

Mil. Sir, my mistress gives her service to you; and has sent you home the linen you bespoke.

Ran. Well, Simon, my service to your lady, and let her know I will most certainly wait upon her. I am a little busy, Simon--and so

Sim. Ah, you're a wag, Master Ranger, you're -but mum for that.

a wag

[Exit. Ran. I swear, my dear, you have the prettiest pair of eyes--the loveliest pouting lips-I never saw you before.

Mil. No, sir! I was always in the shop. Ran. Were you so?-Well, and what does your mistress say?- -The devil fetch me, child, you looked so prettily, that I could not mind one word you said.

Mil. Lard, sir, you are such another gentleman!-Why, she says, she is sorry she could not send them sooner. Shall I lay them down? Ran. No, child. Give them to me -Dear little smiling angel [Catches, and kisses her. Mil. I beg, sir, you would be civil.

Ran. It is to him, then, I am obliged for this visit but with all my heart. He is the only

man to whom I don't care how much I am obliged.

Bel. Your humble servant, sir.

Frank. You know, Ranger, I want no inducement to be with you. But--you look sadly-What———no merciless jade has- -has she?

Ran. No, no; sound as a roach, my lad. I only got a little too much liquor last night, which I have not slept off yet.

Bel. Thus, Frankly, it is every day. All the morning his head aches; at noon, he begins to clear up; towards evening, he is good company; and all night, he is carefully providing for the same course the next day.

Ran. Why, I must own, my ghostly father, I did relapse a little last night, just to furnish out a decent confession for the day.

Frank. And he is now doing penance for it. Were you his confessor, indeed, you could not well desire more.

Ran. Charles, he sets up for a confessor with

the worst grace in the world. Here has he been reproving me for being but decently civil to my milliner. Plague! because the coldness of his constitution makes him insensible of a fine woman's charms every body else must be so, too.

Bel. I am no less sensible of their charms than you are; though I cannot kiss every woman I meet, or fall in love, as you call it, with every face which has the bloom of youth upon it. I would only have you a little more frugal of your pleasures.

Frank. My dear friend, this is very pretty talking! But, let me tell you, it is in the power of the very first glance from a fine woman, utterly to disconcert all your philosophy.

Bel. It must be from a fine woman, then; and not such as are generally reputed so. And it must be a thorough acquaintance with her, too, that will ever make an impression on my heart.

Ran. Would I could see it once! For when a man has been all his life hoarding up a stock, without allowing himself common necessaries, it tickles me to the soul to see him lay it all out upon a wrong bottom, and become bankrupt at last.

Bel. Well, I don't care how soon you see it. For the minute I find a woman capable of friendship, love, and tenderness, with good sense enough to be always easy, and good-nature enough to like me, I will immediately put it to the trial, which of us shall have the greatest share of happiness from the sex, you or 1.

Ran. By marrying her, I suppose! Capable of friendship, love, and tenderness! ha, ha, ha! that a man of your sense should talk so! If she be capable of love, 'tis all I require of my mistress; and as every woman, who is young, is capable of love, I am very reasonably in love with every young woman I meet. My Lord Coke, in a case I read this morning, speaks my sense. Both. My lord Coke!

Ran. Yes, My lord Coke. What he says of one woman, I say of the whole sex: I take their bodies, you their minds; which has the better bargain?

Fran. There is no arguing with so great a lawyer. Suppose, therefore, we adjourn the debate to some other time. I have some serious business with Mr Bellamy, and you want sleep, I

am sure.

Ran. Sleep! mere loss of time, and hinderance of business- -We men of spirit, sir, are above it.

Bel. Whither shall we go?

Fran. Into the park. My chariot is at the door.

Bel. Then if my servant calls, you'll send him after us? [Exeunt. Ran. I will. [Looking on the card.] Clarinda's compliments'-A pox of this head of mine, never once to ask where she was to be found!

'Tis plain she is not one of us, or I should not have been so remiss in my inquiries. No matter; I shall meet her in my walks.

Servant enters.

Ser. There is no letter nor message, sir.

Ran, Then my things to dress.— -I take her body, you her mind; which has the better bargain? [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A chamber.

Enter MRS STRICTLAND and JACINTHA, meeting.

Mrs Strict. Good-morrow, my dear Jacintha. Jac. Good-morrow to you, madam. I have brought my work, and intend to sit with you this morning. I hope you have got the better of your fatigue? Where is Clarinda? I should be glad if she would come and work with us.

Mrs Strict. She work! she is too fine a lady to do any thing. She is not stirring yet-we must let her have her rest. People of her waste of spirits require more time to recruit again.

Jac. It is pity she should be ever tired with what is so agreeable to every body else. I am prodigiously pleased with her company.

Mrs Strict. And when you are better acquainted, you will be still more pleased with her. You must rally her upon her partner at Bath; for I fancy part of her rest has been disturbed on his account.

Jac. Was he really a pretty fellow?

Mrs Strict. That I cannot tell; I did not dance myself, and so did not much mind him. You must have the whole story from herself.

Jac. Oh, I warrant ye, I get it all out. None are so proper to make discoveries in love, as those who are in the secret themselves.

Enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, Mr Strictland is inquiring for you. Here has been Mr Buckle with a letter from his master, which has made him very angry.

Jac. Mr Bellamy said, indeed, he would try him once more, but I fear it will prove in vaiu. Tell your master I am here.-[Erit LUCETTA.]— What signifies fortune, when it only makes us slaves to other people?

Mrs Strict. Do not be uneasy, my Jacintha. You shall always find a friend in me but as for Mr Strictland, I know not what ill temper hangs about him lately. Nothing satisfies him. You saw how he received us when we came off our journey. Though Clarinda was so good company, he was barely civil to her, and downright rude

to me.

Jac. I cannot help saying, I did observe it. Mrs Strict. I saw you did. Hush! he's here.

solute in chastity and ill-nature, than I was fixed in indifference; but love has raised me from that inactive state, above the being of a man. Bel. Faith, Charles, I begin to think it has: but, pray, bring this rapture into order a little, and tell me regularly, how, where, and when.

Frank. If I was not most unreasonably in love, those horrid questions would stop my mouth at once; but, as I am armed against reason-I answer-at Bath, on Tuesday, she danced and caught me.

Bel. Danced! And was that all? But who is she? What is her name? Her fortune? Where does she live?

Frank. Hold! Hold! Not so many hard questions. Have a little mercy. I know but little of her, that's certain; but all I do know, you shall have. That evening was the first of her appearing at Bath; the moment I saw her, I resolved to ask the favour of her hand; but the easy freedom with which she gave it, and her unaffected good humour during the whole night, gained such a power over my heart, as none of ber sex could ever boast before. I waited on her home; and the next morning, when I went to pay the usual compliments, the bird was flown; she had set out for London two hours before, and in a chariot and six, you rogue!

Bel. But was it her own, Charles?

Frank. That I don't know; but it looks better than being dragged to town in the stage. That day and the next I spent in inquiries. I waited on the ladies who came with her; they knew nothing of her. So, without learning either her name or fortune, I e'en called for my boots, and rode post after her.

Bel. And how do you find yourself after your journey?

Frank. Why, as yet, I own, I am but on a cold scent: but a woman of her sprightliness and gentility, cannot but frequent all public places; and, when once she is found, the pleasure of the chase will overpay the pains of rousing her. Oh, Bellamy! There was something peculiarly charming in her, that seemed to claim my further acquaintance; and if, in the more familiar parts of life, she shines with that superior lustre, and at last I win her to my arms, how shall I bless my resolution in pursuing her!

Bel. But if, at last, she should prove unworthy

Frank. I would endeavour to forget her. Bel. Promise me that, Charles,-[Takes his hand.-and I allow-But we are interrupted.

Enter JACK MEGGOT.

J. Meg. Ha! Whose that? Frank. A friend of mine. Mr Bellamy, this is Jack Meggot, sir; as honest a fellow as any in life.

J. Meg. Pho! Prithee! Pox! CharlesDon't be silly-Sir, I am your humble: any one who is a friend of my Frankly's, I am proud of embracing.

Bel. Sir, I shall endeavour to deserve your civility,

J. Meg. Oh, sir! Well, Charles; what, dumb? Come, come; you may talk, though you have nothing to say, as I do. Let us hear, where have you been?

Frank. Why, for this last week, Jack, I have been at Bath,

J. Meg. Bath! the most ridiculous place in life! amongst tradesmen's wives that hate their husbands, and people of quality that had rather go to the devil than stay at home. People of no taste; no gout; and, for devertimenti, if it were not for the puppet-show, la vertu would be dead amongst them. But the news, Charles; the ladies-I fear your time hung heavy on your hands, by the small stay you made there.

Frank. Faith, and so it did, Jack; the ladies are grown such idiots in love. The cards have so debauched their five senses, that love, almighty love himself, is utterly neglected.

J. Meg. It is the strangest thing in life, but it is just so with us abroad. Faith, Charles, to tell you a secret, which I don't care if all the world knows, I am almost surfeited with the services of the ladies; the modest ones, I mean. The vast variety of duties they expect, as dressing up to the fashion, losing fashionably, keeping fashionable hours, drinking fashionable liquors, and fifty other such irregular niceties, so ruin a man's pocket and constitution, that, 'foregad, he must have the estate of a duke, and the strength of a gondolier, who would list himself into their service.

Frank. A free confession, truly, Jack, for one of your coat!

Bel. The ladies are obliged to you.

Enter BUCKLE, with a letter to BELLAMY.

J. Meg. Oh, Lard, Charles! I have had the greatest misfortune in life since I saw you; poor Otho, that I brought from Rome with me, is dead!

Frank. Well, well; get you another, and all will be well again.

J. Meg. No; the rogue broke me so much china, and gnawed my Spanish leather shoes so filthily, that, when he was dead, I began not to endure him.

Frank. Even as you see me; well, and at your service ever.

Pray, who was the gentleman?

J. Meg. The gentleman was my monkey, sir; an odd sort of a fellow, that used to divert me,

J. Meg. Pho! Pox! Charles, you shall go.My aunts think you begin to neglect them; and old maids, you know, are the most jealous creatures in life.

Frank. Ranger swears they cannot be maids, they are so good-natured. Well, I agree, on condition I may eat what I please, and go away just when I will.

J. Meg. Ay, ay, you shall do just what you will. But how shall we do? My post chaise won't carry us all.

Frank. My chariot is here; and I will conduct Mr Bellamy.

Bel. Mr Meggot, I beg pardon; I cannot possibly dine out of town; I have an engagement early in the evening.

J. Meg. Out of town! No, my dear, I live just by. I see one of the dillettanti, I would not miss speaking to for the universe. And so I expect you at three. [Exit. Frank. Ha, ha, ha! and so you thought you had at least fifty miles to go post for a spoonful of macaroni?

Bel. I suppose, then, he is just come out of the country?

Frank. Nor that neither. I would venture a wager, from his own house hither, or to an auction or two of old dirty pictures, is the utmost of his travels to-day; or he may have been in pursuit, perhaps, of a new cargo of Venetian toothpicks.

Bel. A special acquaintance I have made today.

Frank. For all this, Bellamy, he has a heart worthy your friendship. He spends his estate freely, and you cannot oblige him more, than by shewing him how he can be of service to you.

Bel. Now you say something. It is the heart, Frankly, I value in a man.

Frank. Right-and there is a heart even in a woman's breast, that is worth the purchase, or my judgment has deceived me. Dear Bellamy, I know your concern for me; see her first, and then blame me, if you can.

Bel. So far from blaming you, Charles, that, if my endeavours can be serviceable, I will beat the bushes with you.

Frank. That, I am afraid, will not do. For you know less of her than I: but if, in your walks, you meet a finer woman than ordinary, let her not escape till I have seen her. Wheresoever she is, she cannot long be hid.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-St James's Park.

Cla. I care not how soon. I long to meet with such a fellow. Our modern beaux are such

LAND.

Jac. Ay, ay; we both stand condemned out of our own mouths.

Cla. Why, I cannot but own, I never had a thought of any man that troubled me but him.

Mrs Strict. Then, I dare swear, by this time, you heartily repent your leaving Bath so soon. Cla. Indeed, you are mistaken. I have not had one scruple since.

Jac. Why, what one inducement can he have ever to think of you again?

Cla. Oh, the greatest of all inducements, curiosity let me assure you, a woman's surest hold over a man, is to keep him in uncertainty. As soon as ever you put him out of doubt, you put him out of your power; but, when once a woman has awaked his curiosity, she may lead him a dance of many a troublesome mile, without the least fear of losing him at last.

Jac. Now do I heartily wish he may have spi- | rit enough to follow, and use you as you deserve. Such a spirit, with but a little knowledge of our sex, might put that heart of yours into a -strange flutter.

But

are entirely insensible either of pain or pleasure, but from their own dear persons; and, according as we flatter, or affront their beauty, they admire or forsake ours: they are not worthy even of our displeasure; and, in short, abusing them is but so much ill-nature merely thrown away. the man of sense, who values himself upon his high abilities, or the man of wit, who thinks a woman beneath his conversation- to see such the subjects of our power, the slaves of our frowns and smiles, is glorious indeed!

Mrs Strict. No man of sense, or wit either, if he be truly so, ever did, or ever can, think a woman of merit beneath his wisdom to converse with.

Jac. Nor will such a woman value herself upon making such a lover uneasy.

Cla. Amazing! Why, every woman can give ease. You cannot be in earnest.

Mrs Strict. I can assure you she is, and has put in practice the doctrine she has been teach

ing.

Cla. Impossible! Who ever heard the name of love mentioned without an idea of torment? But, pray let us hear.