Mrs. O. Say what you will, Mr. Oakly, you shall never persuade me but this is some filthy intrigue of your's.

Oak. I can assure you, my love

Mrs. O. Your love! Don't I know your-Tell me, I say, this instant, every circumstance relating to this letter.

Oak. How can I tell you, when you will not so much as let me see it?

Mrs. O. Lookye, Mr. Oakly, this usage is not to be borne. You take a pleasure in abusing my tenderness and soft disposition. To be perpetually running over the whole town, nay, the whole kingdom, too, in pursuit of your amours! Did not I discover that you was great with mademoiselle, my own woman? Did not you contract a shameful familiarity with Mrs. Freeman? Did not I detect your intrigue with Lady Wealthy? Was not you

Oak. Oons! madam, the Grand Turk himself has not half so many mistresses. You throw me out of all patience! Do I know anybody but our common

friends? Am I visited by anybody that does not visit you? Do I ever go out, unless you go with me? And am I not as constantly by your side, as if I were tied to your apron-strings?

Mrs. O. Go, go! you are a false man. Have not I found you out a thousand times? And have not I this moment a letter in my hand, which convinces me of your baseness? Let me know the whole affair, or I will

would have of me? You stop my letter before it Oak. Let you know! Let me know what you comes to my hands, and then expect that I should know the contents of it!

Mrs. O. Heaven be praised! I stopped it. I suspected some of these doings for some time past! But the letter informs me who she is, and I'll be revenged on her sufficiently. Oh! you base man, you!

Oak. I beg, my dear, that you would moderate your passion. Shew me the letter, and I'll convince you of my innocence.

Innocence !

Mrs. O. Innocence! abominable. But I am not to be made such a fool;-I am convinced of your perfidy, and very sure thatOak. 'Sdeath and fire! your passion hurries you Will you hear me? out of your senses. Mrs. O. No; you are a base man; and I will not hear you.

Oak. Why, then, my dear, since you will neither talk reasonably yourself, nor listen to reason from me, I shall take my leave till you are in a better (Going.) humour. So, your servant!

Mrs. O. Ay, go, you cruel man! Go to your mistresses, and leave your poor wife to her miseries.

35

How unfortunate a woman am I! I could die with vexation. (Throwing herself into a chair.)

Oak. There it is! Now dare not I stir a step further if I offer to go, she is in one of her fits in an instant. Never sure was a woman at once of so violent and so delicate a constitution! What shall I say to sooth her? (Aside.) Nay, never make thyself so uneasy, my dear. Come, come, you know I love you.

Mrs. O. I know you hate me; and that your unkindness and barbarity will be the death of me. (Whining.)

Oak. Do not vex yourself at this rate; I love you most passionately-indeed I do. This must be some mistake.

Mrs. O. Oh! I am an unhappy woman.

Oak. Dry up thy tears, my love, and be comforted. You will find that I am not to blame in this matter. Come, let me see this letter; nay, you shall not deny me. (Takes the letter.)

Mrs. O. There! take it; you know the hand, I

am sure.

Oak. (Reads.) To Charles Oakly, Esq.-Hand! 'Tis a clerk-like hand, a good round text; and was certainly never penned by a fair lady.

Mrs. O. Ay, laugh at me, do!

Oak. Forgive me, my love, I did not mean to laugh at thee. But what says the letter? (Reads.) Daughter eloped—you must be privy to it—scandalous-dishonourable-satisfaction-revenge-um, um, um,-injured father, HENRY RUSSET.

Mrs. O. (Rising.) Well, sir, you see I have detected you; tell me this instant where she is concealed.

Oak. So-so-so-This hurts me: I'm shocked. (To himself.)

Mrs. O. What! are you confounded with your guilt? Have I caught you at last?

Oak. O that wicked Charles; to decoy a young lady from her parents in the country! The profligacy of the young fellows of this age is abominable. (To himself.)

Mrs. O. (Half aside, and musing.) Charles!Let me see. Charles!-No; impossible! This is all a trick.

Oak. He has certainly ruined this poor lady. (To himself.)

Mrs. O. Art, art; all art! There's a sudden turn now! You have ready wit for an intrigue, I find. Oak. Such an abandoned action! I wish I had never had the care of him.

Mrs. O. Mighty fine, Mr. Oakly! Go on, sir, go on! I see what you mean. Your assurance provokes me beyond your very falsehood itself. So, you imagine, sir, that this affected concern, this flimsy pretence about Charles, is to bring you off. Matchless confidence! but I am armed against every thing I am prepared for all your dark schemes-I am aware of all your low stratagems.

Oak. See there now! Was ever anything so provoking? To persevere in your ridiculous-For heaven's sake! my dear, don't distract me. When you see my mind thus agitated and uneasy, that a young fellow, whom his dying father, my own brother, committed to my care, should be guilty of such enormous wickedness; I say, when you are witness of my distress on this occasion, how can you be weak enough and cruel enough to

Mrs. O. Prodigiously well, sir! You do it very well. Nay, keep it up, carry it on! there's nothing like going through with it. O, you artful creature! But, sir, I am not to be so easily satisfied. I do not believe a syllable of all this. Give me the letter (Snatches the letter.)-You shall sorely repent this vile business, for I am resolved that I will know the bottom of it. [Exit.

Oak. This is beyond all patience. Provoking woman! Her absurd suspicions interpret every thing the wrong way. But this ungracious boy!

in how many troubles will he involve his own and this lady's family! I never imagined that he was of such abandoned principles.

Enter MAJOR OAKLY and CHARLES. Charles. Good-morrow, sir!

Maj. O. Good-morrow, brother, good-morrow. What! you have been at the old work, I find. I heard you-ding, dong! i'faith, she has rung a noble peal in your ears. But how now? Why sure you've had a remarkable warm bout on't: you seem more ruffled than usual.

Oak. I am, indeed, brother! thanks to that young gentleman there. Have a care, Charles! you may be called to a severe account for this. The honour of a family, sir, is no such light matter. Charles. Sir!

Maj. O. Heyday! What, has a curtain lecture produced a lecture of morality? What is all this?

Oak. To a profligate mind, perhaps, these things may appear agreeable in the beginning; but don't you tremble at the consequences?

Charles. I see, sir, that you are displeased with me; but I am quite at a loss to guess at the occasion.

[set?

Oak. Tell me, sir!-where is Miss Harriot RasCharles. Miss Harriot Russet!-Sir, explain. Oak. Have not you decoyed her from her father' Charles. -Decoyed her-decoyed my Harriot! I would sooner die than do her the least injury. What can this mean?

Maj. O. I believe the young dog has been at her, after all.

Oak. I was in hopes, Charles, you had better principles. But there's a letter just come from her father

Charles. A letter!-What letter? Dear sir, give it me. Some intelligence of my Harriot, Major? The letter, sir, the letter this moment, for heaven's sake!

Oak. If this warmth, Charles, tends to prore your innocence

Charles. Dear sir, excuse me; I'll prove any. thing: let me but see this letter, and I'll—

Oak. Let you see it! I could hardly get a sight of it myself. Mrs. Oakly has it.

Charles. Has she got it? Major, I'll be with you again directly. [Exit hastily Maj. O. Heyday! The devil's in the boy! What a fiery set of people! By my truth, I think the whole family is made of nothing but combustibles.

Oak. I like this emotion; it looks well: it may serve, too, to convince my wife of the folly of her suspicions. Would to heaven I could quiet them for ever!

Maj. O. Why, pray now, my dear naughty brother, what heinous offence have you committed this morning? what new cause of suspicion? You have been asking one of the maids to mend your ruffle, I suppose; or have been hanging your head out at the window, when a pretty young woman has passed by; or

Oak. How can you trifle with my distresses, Major? Did not I tell you it was about a letter?

Maj. O. A letter!-hum-A suspicions circam

stance to be sure! What! and the seal a true lover's knot now, eh? or a heart transfixed with darts; or possibly the wax bore the industrious impression of a thimble; or perhaps the folds were lovingly connected by a wafer, pricked with a pin, and the direction written in a vile scrawl, and not a word spelt as it should be! Ha, ha, ha!

Oak. Pooh! brother-Whatever it was, the letter, you find, was for Charles, not for me. This outrageous jealousy is the devil.

Maj. O. Mere matrimonial blessings and domestic comfort, brother! Jealousy is a certain sign of love.

Oak. Love! it is this very love that hath made

us both so miserable. Her love for me has confined me to my house, like a state prisoner, without the liberty of seeing my friends, or the use of pen, ink, and paper; while my love for her has made such a fool of me, that I have never had the spirit to contradict her.

Maj. O. Ay, ay, there you've hit it; Mrs. Oakly would make an excellent wife, if you did but know how to manage her.

Oak. You are a rare fellow indeed to talk of managing a wife. A debauched bachelor; a rattlebrained, rioting fellow-who have picked up your commonplace notions of women in bagnios, taverns, and the camp; whose most refined commerce with the sex has been in order to delade country girls at your quarters, or to besiege the virtue of abigails, milliners, or mantua-makers' apprentices.

Maj. O. So much the better!-so much the better! Women are all alike in the main, brother; high or low, married or single, quality or no quality. I have found them so, from a duchess down to a milk-maid; every woman is a tyrant at the bottom. But they could never make a fool of me. No, no; no woman should ever domineer over me, let her be mistress or wife.

Oak. Single men can be no judges in these cases. They must happen in all families. But when things are driven to extremities; to see a woman in uneasiness a woman one loves too-one's wife, who can withstand it? You neither speak nor think like a man that has loved and been married, Major. Maj. O. I wish I could hear a married man speak my language. I'm a bachelor, it's true; but I am no bad judge of your case for all that. I know your's and Mrs. Oakly's disposition to a hair. She is all impetuosity and fire-a very magazine of touchwood and gunpowder. You are hot enough, too, upon occasion; but then it's over in an instant. In comes love and conjugal affection, as you call it; that is, mere folly and weakness-and you draw off your forces, just when you should pursue the attack, and follow your advantage. Have at her with spirit, and the day's your own, brother.

Oak. Why, what would you have me do? Maj. O. Do as you please for one month, whether she likes it or not; and I'll answer for it, she will consent you shall do as you please all her life after. In short, do but shew yourself a man of spirit, leave off whining about love and tenderness, and nonsense, and the business is done, brother.

Oak. I believe you are in the right, Major! I see you are in the right. I'll do it-I'll certainly do it. But then it hurts me to the soul, to think what uneasiness I shall give her. The first opening of my design will throw her into fits; and the pursuit of it, perhaps, may be fatal.

Maj. O. Fits! ha, ha, ha! I'll engage to cure her of her fits. Nobody understands hysterical cases better than I do; besides, my sister's symptoms are not very dangerous. Did you ever hear of her falling into a fit when you was not by? Was she ever found in convulsions in her closet? No, no; these fits, the more care you take of them, the more you will increase the distemper; let them alone, and they will wear themselves out, I warrant you.

Oak. True, very true; you are certainly in the right; I'll follow your advice. Where do you dine to-day? I'll order the coach, and go with you. Maj. O. O brave! keep up this spirit, and you are made for ever.

Oak. You shall see now, Major! Who's there? Enter Servant.

Maj. O. You won't.

arms.

Maj. O. A very agreeable refuge for a young lady, to be sure; and extremely decent!

Charles. What a heap of extravagancies was I guilty of!

Maj. O. Extravagancies with a witness! Ah! you silly, young dog, you would ruin yourself with her father, in spite of all I could do. There you sat, as drunk as a lord, telling the old gentleman the whole affair, and swearing you would drive Sir Harry Beagle out of the country, though I kept winking and nodding, pulling you by the sleeve, and kicking your shins under the table, in hopes of stopping you; but all to no purpose,

Charles. What distress may she be in at this instant! Alone and defenceless! Where, where can she be?

Maj. O. What relations or friends has she in town?

Charles. Relations! let me see-Faith, I have it! If she is in town, ten to one but she is at her aunt's, Lady Freelove's. I'll go thither imme

Oak. Ay, now, immediately.

Serv. Now, sir?-the-the-coach, sir?—that is -my mistress-

Maj. O. Lady Freelove's! Hold, hold, Charles! Do you know her ladyship?

Charles. Not much; but I'll break through all, to get to my Harriot.

Maj. O. I do know her ladyship.

Charles. Well, and what do you know of her? Maj. O. O, nothing! her ladyship is a woman of the world, that's all.

Charles. What do you mean?

Maj. O. That Lady Freelove is an arrant-Bythe-by, did not she, last summer, make formal proposals to Harriot's father from Lord Trinket?

Charles. Yes; but they were received with the utmost contempt. The old gentleman, it seems, hates a lord, and he told her so in plain terms.

Maj. O. Such an aversion to the nobility may not run in the blood: the girl, I warrant you, has no objection. However, if she's there, watch her narrowly, Charles. Lady Freelove is as mischievous as a monkey, and as cunning too. Have a care of her, I say, have a care of her!

Charles. If she's there, I'll have her out of the house within this half hour, or set fire to it.

Maj. O. Nay, now you are too violent; stay a moment, and we'll consider what's best to be done. Enter OAKLY,

Oak. Come, is the coach ready? Let us be gone. Does Charles go with us?

Charles. I go with you!-What can I do? I am so vexed and distracted, and so many thoughts crowd in upon me, I don't know which way to turn myself.

Mrs. O. (Within.) The coach!-dines out!— Where is your master?

Oak. Zounds! brother, here she is.

Re-enter MRS. OAKLY.

Mrs. O. Why cannot you settle your business here, as well as at a tavern? But it is some of your ladies' business, I suppose, and so you must get rid of my company. This is chiefly your fault, Major Oakly.

Maj. O. Lord! sister, what signifies it, whether a man dines at home or abroad?

Mrs. O. It signifies a great deal, sir! and I don't choose

Maj. O. Phoo! let him go, my dear sister, let him go; he will be ten times better company when he comes back. I tell you what, sister-you sit at home till you are quite tired of one another, and then you grow cross, and fall out: if you would but part a little now and then, you might meet again in humour.

Mrs. O. I beg, Major Oakly, that you would trouble yourself about your own affairs; and let me tell you, sir, that I

Oak. Nay, do not put thyself into a passion with the Major, my dear!-it is not his fault; and I shall come back to thee very soon.

Mrs. O. Come back! why need you go out? I know well enough when you mean to deceive me; for then there is always a pretence of dining with Sir John, or my lord, or somebody; but when you tell me that you are going to a tavern, it's such a bare-faced affront

Oak. This is so strange now! Why, my dear, I shall only just

Mrs. O. Only just go after the lady in the letter, I suppose.

Oak. Well, well, I won't go then. Will that convince you? I'll stay with you, my dear. Will that satisfy you?

Maj. O. For shame! hold out, if you are a man. (Apart.)

Oak. She has been so much vexed this morning already, I must humour her a little now. (Apart.)

Maj. O. Fie, fie! go out, or you are undone. (Apart.)

Oak. You see it's impossible. I'll dine at home with thee, my love. (Apart to Mrs. Oakly.) Mrs. O. Ay, ay, pray do, sir. Dine at a tavern, indeed! (Going.)

Oak. (Returning.) You may depend on me another time, Major.

Maj. O. Steel and adamant! Ah!

Mrs. O. (Returning.) Mr. Oakly!

Oak. O, my dear! [Exit with Mrs. Oakly. Maj. O. Ha, ha, ha! there's a picture of resolution! there goes a philosopher for you! Ha, Charles!

Charles. O, uncle! I have no spirits to laugh

Maj. O. Well, seriously, then, my house is at your service.

Charles. I thank you; but I must be gone. Maj. O. Ay, ay, bring her to my house, and we'll settle the whole affair for you. You shall

clap her into a post-chaise, take the chaplain of our regiment along with you, wheel her down to Scotland, and when you come back, send to settle her fortune with her father; that's the modern art of making love, Charles! [Exeunt,

Sir H. Is it attested?

Tom. Very well attested; it is signed by Jack Spur and my Lord Startall. (Giving the pedigree.)

Sir H. Let me see. (Reads,) "Tom-come-tickleme was out of the famous Tantivy mare, by Si Aaron Driver's chesnut horse, White Stockings. White Stockings, his dam, was got by Lord Hedge's South Barb, full sister to the Proserpine Filly, and his sire Tom Jones; his grandam was the Irish Duchess, and his grandsire 'Squire Sportley's Trojan his great and great great grandam were Newmarket Peggy and Black Moll; and his great grandsire and great great grandsire, were Sir Ralph Whip's Regu lus, and the famous Prince Anamaboo.

JOHN SPUR. his mark. STARTALL."

Tom. All fine horses, and won every thing! A foal out of your honour's bald-faced Venus, by this horse, would beat the world.

Sir H. Well, then, we'll think on't. But plague on't, Tom, I have certainly knocked up my little roan gelding in this d-d wild-goose chase of threescore miles an end.

Tom. He's deadly blown, to be sure, your bo

nour; and I am afraid we are upon a wrong scent after all. Madam Harriot certainly took across the country, instead of coming on to London.

Sir H. No, no; we traced her all the way up. But, d'ye hear? Tom, look out among the stables and repositories here in town, for a smart, road nag, and a strong horse to carry a portmanteau. Tom. Sir Roger Turf's horses are to be sold: I'll see if there's ever a tight thing there. But I suppose, sir, you would have one somewhat stronger than Snip: I don't think he's quite enough of a horse for your honour.

Sir H. Not enough of a horse! Snip's a powerful gelding; master of two stone more than my weight. If Snip stands sound, I would not take a hundred guineas for him. Poor Snip! go into the stable, Tom, see they give him a warm mash, and look at his heels and his eyes. But where's Mr. Russet all this while?

.Tom. I left the 'squire at breakfast on a cold pigeon-pie; and inquiring after madam Harriot, in the kitchen. I'll let him know your honour would be glad to see him here.

Sir H. Ay, do; but, harkye! Tom be sure you take care of Snip.

Tom. I'll warrant your honour.

Sir H. I'll be down in the stables myself by-andby. [Exit Tom.] Let me see-out of the famous Tantivy by White Stockings. White Stockings, his dam, full sister to the Proserpine Filly; and his sire-plague on't! how unlucky it is that this dd accident should happen in the Newmarket week ! Ten to one I lose my match with Lord Chokejade, by not riding myself; and I shall have no opportunity to hedge my bets neither. What a dd piece of work have I made on't!--I have knocked ap poor Snip, shall lose my match; and as to Harriot, why the odds are that I lose my match there too: a skittish young tit! If I once get her tight in hand, I'll make her wince for it. Her estate, joined to my own, I would have the finest stud and the noblest kennel in the whole country. But here comes her father, puffing and blowing, like a broken-winded horse up hill.

Rus. Impossible! she could not go over half the ground in the time. What the devil are you talking of?

Sir H. Of the mare you was just now saying you wanted to buy.

Rus. The devil take the mare! who would think of her, when I am mad about an affair of so much more consequence?

Sir H. You seemed mad about her a little while ago. She's a fine mare, and a thing of shape and blood.

Rus. D― her blood! Harriot! my dear, provoking Harriot! Where can she be? Have yon got any intelligence of her?

Sir H. No, faith, not I : we seem to be quite thrown out here; but, however, I have ordered Tom to try if he can hear anything of her among the ostlers.

Rus. Why don't you inquire after her yourself? why don't you run up and down the whole town after her? Tother young rascal knows where she is, I warrant you. What a plague it is to have a daughter! When one loves her to distraction, and

has toiled and laboured to make her happy, the ungrateful slut will sooner go to hell her own way. But she shall have him-I will make her happy, if I break her heart for it.-A provoking gipsy! to run away, and torment her poor father, that dotes on her! I'll never see her face again. Sir Harry, how can we get any intelligence of her? Why don't you speak! why don't you tell me? Zounds! you seem as indifferent as if you did not care a farthing about her.

Sir H. Indifferent! you may well call me indifferent!-this d-d chase after her will cost me a thousand. If it had not been for her, I would not have been off the course this week to have saved the lives of my whole family. I'll hold you six to two that

Rus. Zounds! hold your tongue, or talk more to the purpose. I swear she is too good for youyou don't deserve such a wife-a fine, dear, sweet, lovely, charming girl ! She'll break my heart. How shall I find her out?-Do, pr'ythee, Sir Harry; my dear honest friend! consider how we may discover where she is fled to.

Sir H. Suppose you put an advertisement into the newspapers, describing her marks, her age, her height, and where she strayed from. I recovered a bay mare once by that method.

Rus. Advertise her!-What! describe my daughter, and expose her, in the public papers, with a reward for bringing her home, like horses stolen or strayed! Recovered a bay mare!-the devil's in the fellow he thinks of nothing but racers, and bay mares, and stallions. Sdeath, I wish your-Sir H. I wish Harriot was fairly pounded; it would save us both a deal of trouble.

Rus. Which way shall I turn myself? I am half distracted. If I go to that young dog's house, he has certainly conveyed her somewhere out of my reach: if she does not send to me to-day, I'll give her up for ever: perhaps, though, she may have met with some accident, and has nobody to assist her. No, she is certainly with that young rascal. I wish she was dead, and I was dead. I'll blow young Oakly's brains out.

Re-enter TOM.

poor Snip?

Sir H. Well, Tom, how is Tom. A little better, sir, after his warm mash; but Lady, the pointing-bitch, that followed you all the way, is deadly foot-sore.

Rus. D-n Snip and Lady! Have you heard anything of Harriot?

Tom. Why, I came on purpose to let my master and your honour know, that John Ostler says as how, just such a lady as I told him Madam Harriot was, came here in a four-wheel chaise, and was fetched away soon after by a fine lady in a chariot. Rus. Did she come alone? [honour.

Tom. Quite alone; only a servant maid, please your Rus. And what part of the town did they go to ? Tom. John Ostler says as how they bid the coachman drive to Grosvenor-square.

Sir H. Soho! puss. Yoics!

Rus. She is certainly gone to that young rogue: he has got his aunt to fetch her from hence; or else she is with her own aunt, Lady Freelove; they both live in that part of the town. I'll go to the house; and, in the meanwhile, Sir Harry, you shall step to Lady Freelove's. We'll find her, I warrant I'll teach my young mistress to be gadding. She shall marry you to-night. Come along, Sir Harry, come along; we won't lose a minute. Come along.

you.

Sir H. Solo! hark forward! wind 'em and cross 'em! hark forward! Yoics! Yoics! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Oakly's House.
Enter MRS. OAKLY.

Mrs. O. After all, that letter was certainly in