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Isa. Ay, ay; the more for that---that keeps Ind. That's truly observed. (Aside.} But what's the title to all you have the more in him. all this to Bevil ?

Ind. The more in him! -he scorns the Isu. This is to Bevil and all mankind. Trust thought

not those who will think the worse of you for Isa. Then he-he-he

your confidence in them; serpents who lie in Ind. Well; be not so eager. If he's an ill wait for doves. Won't you be on your guard man, let's look into his stratagems: here is ano- against those who would betray you? won't you ther of them : (Shewing a letter.] here's two hun- doubt those who would contemn you for belierdred and fifty pounds in bank-notes, with these ing them? Take it from me, fair and natural words; ‘To pay for the set of dressing-plate dealing is to invite injuries; 'tis bleating to eswhich will be brought home to-morrow.' Why, cape wolves who would devour you : Such is the dear aunt! now here's another piece of skill for world, and such (since the behaviour of one man you, which I own I cannot comprehendmand it to niyself) have I believed all the rest of the sex, is with a bleeding heart I hear you say any thing

Aside. to the disadvantage of Mr Bevil. When he is Ind. I will not doubt the truth of Bevil, I will present, I look upon him as one to whom I owe not doubt it: he has not spoken it by an organ my life, and the support of it; then, again, as that is given to lying : his eyes are all that have the man who loves me with sincerity and honour. ever told me that he was mine. I know his virWhen his eyes are cast another way, and I dare tue, I know his filial piety, and ought to trust his survey him, my heart is painfully divided be- management with a father, to whom he has untween shame and love-Oh! I could tell you— common obligations. What have I to be con

Isa. Oh! you need not; I imagine all this for cerned for? My lesson is very short. If he takes you.

me for ever, my purpose of life is only to please Ind. This is my state of mind in his presence; him. If he leaves me, (which leaven avert!) I and, when he is absent, you are ever dinning my know he'll do it nobly; and I shall have nothing ears with notions of the arts of men; that his hid- to do but learn to die, after worse than death has den bounty, his respectful conduct, his careful happened to me. provision for me, after his preserving me from Isa. Aye, do persist in your credulity! flatter the utmost misery, are certain signs he means no- yourself that a man of his figure and fortune will thing but to make I know not what of me. make himself the jest of the town, and marry a Isa. Oh! you have a sweet opinion of him handsome beggar for love!

Ind. The town! I must tell you, madam, the Ind. I have, when I am with him, ten thou-fools that laugh at Mr Bevil will but make themsand things, besides my sex's natural decency and selves more ridiculous; his actions are the reshame, to suppress my heart, that yearns to thank, sult of thinking, and he has sense enough to to praise, to say it loves him. I say thus it is inake even virtue fashionable. with me, while I see him; and, in his absence, I Isa. O my conscience he has turned her head! am entertained with nothing but your endeavours Come, come; if he were the honest fool you to tear this amiable image from my heart, and, in take him for, why has he kept you here these its stead, to place a base disserubler, an artful three weeks, without sending you to Bristol in invader of my happiness, my innocence, my ho- search of your father, your family, and your renour!

lations? Isa. Ah, poor soul ! has not his plot taken? Ind. I am convinced he still designs it; and don't you die for him? has not the way he has that nothing keeps him here but the necessity of taken been the most proper with you? Oh ho! not coining to an open breach with his father in he has sense, and has judged the thing right. regard to the match he has proposed him: be

Ind. Go on, then, since nothing can answer sides, has he not writ to Bristol?' and has not be you; say what you will of him.---Hleigh ho ! advice that my father has not been heard of

Isa. Ileigh bö! indeed. It is better to say so, there almost these twenty years ? as you are now, than as many others are. There Isa. All sham, mere evasion; he is afraid, if are, among the destroyers of women, the gentle, he should carry you thither, your honest relathe generous, the mild, the affable, the humble, tions may take you out of his hands, and so who all, soon after their success in their designs, blow up all his wicked hopes at once. turn to the contrary of those characters. I will Ind. Wicked hopes ! did I ever give him any own to you, Mr Bevil carries his hypocrisy the such? best of any man living ; but still be is a man, and Isa. Has he ever given you any honest ones? therefore a hypocrite. They have usurped an Can you say in your conscience he has ever once exemption from shame, from any baseness, any offered to marry you? cruelty, towards us. They embrace, without love; Ind. No; but by his behaviour I am convinthey make vows, without conscience of obligation; ced he will offer it the moment 'tis in his power, they are partners, nay, seducers, to the crime, or consistent with his honour, to make such a wherein they pretend to be less guilty.

promise good to me.



Isa. His bonour !

silent, and yet pretend to something more than Ind. I will rely upon it; therefore, desire you

the agreeable. will not make my life uneasy by these ungrate Bev. If I might be vain of any thing in my fal jealousies of one to whom I am and wish to be power, madam, it is, that my understanding, obliged; for from his integrity alone I have re- from all your sex, has marked you out as the solved to hope for happiness.

deserving object of my esteem. Isa. Nay, I have done my duty; if you won't Ind. Should I think I deserve this, it were See, at your peril be it.

enough to make my vanity forfeit the esteem you Ind. Let it be. This is his hour of visiting offer me.

[ Apart. Bev. How so, madam? Isa. Oh! to be sure, keep up your form; do Ind. Because esteem is the result of reason, not see him in a bed-chamber. This is pure pru- and to deserve it from good sense the height of dence, when she is liable, whenever he meets human glory.—Nay, I had rather a man of honber to be conveyed whither he pleases.

our should pay me that, than all the homage of

[Apart. a sincere and humble love. Ind. All the rest of my life is but waiting till Bev. You certainly distinguish right, madain; he comes : I live only while I'm with him. [Erit. love often kindles from external merit only

Isa. Well, go thy way, thou wilful innocent ! Ind. But esteem arises from a higher source, I once had almost as much love for a man who the merit of the soulpoorly left me to marry an estate—and I am Bev. True- and great souls only can denow, against my will, what they call an old maid serve it.

[Bowing respectfully. --but I will not let the peevishness of that con

Ind. Now I think they are greater still, that dition

grow upon me-only keep up the sus can so charitably part with it. picion of it, to prevent this creature's being any Bev. Now, madam, you make me vain, since other than a virgin, except upon proper terins. the utmost pride and pleasure of my life is, that

[Exit. I esteem you---as I ought.

Ind. [ Aside.] As he ought! still more perRe-enter Indiana, speaking to a servant. plexing ! he neither saves nor kills my hope. Ind. Desire Mr Bevil to walk in. Design! Beo. But, madam, we grow grave, methinks--iraposible! a base designing mind could never let's find some other subject. —Pray how did think of what he hourly puts in practice and you like the opera last night? yet, since the late rumour of his marriage, he Ind. First give me leave to thank you for my seems more reserved than formerly--he sends in, tickets. too, before he sees me, to know if I am at lei Bev. Oh! your servant, madam.---But pray sure, Such new respect may cover coldness in tell me; you, now, who are never partial to the the heart—it certainly makes me thoughtful - fashion, I fancy, must be the properest judge of 11 know the worst at once; I'll lay such fair a mighty dispute among the ladies, that is, occasions in his way, that it shall be impossible whether Crispo or Griselda is the more agreeato avoid an explanation

-for these doubts are ble entertainment. insupportable. But see, he comes and clears Ind. With submission, now, I cannot be a pro

per judge of this question.

Bev. How so, madam?
Enter Bevil, Jun.

Ind. Because I find I have a partiality for one Ber. Madam, your most obedient. I am af- of them. rud I broke in upon your rest last night—'twas Bev. Pray, which is that? very late before we parted, but 'twas your own

Ind. I do not know---there's something in that fault ; I never saw you in such agreeable hu- rural cottage of Griselda, her forlorn condition,

her poverty, her solitude, her resignation, her inInd. I am extremely glad we are both pleas- nocent slumbers, and that lulling dolce sogno ed; for I thought I never saw you better com- that's sung over her, it had an effect upon me, pany.

that--- In short, I never was so well deceived at Beo . Me, madam! you rally; I said very any of them.

Bev. Oh! now, then, I can account for the disInd. Bat I am afraid you heard me say a pute : Griselda, it seems, is the distress of an ingreat deal; and when a woman is in the talking jured, innocent woman; Crispo that only of a Fein, the most agreeable thing a man can do, you man in the same condition; therefore, the men know, is to have patience to hear her.

are mostly concerned for Crispo, and, by a natui be silent

, that we might be always agreeable to Ber. Then 'tis pity, madam, you should ever ral indulgence, both sexes for Griselda.

Ind. So that judgment, you think, ought to be one another.

for one, though fancy and coinplaisance have got Ind. If I had your talent or power to make ground for the other. Well, I believe you will my actions speak" for me, I might, indeed, be never give me leave to dispute with you on any VOL. II.

4 K

thern all,




subject, for I own Crispo has its charms for me, Ind. Certainly! I should think he must be a too, though, in the main, all the pleasure the man of an uncoipmon mould. best opera gives us, is but a keen sensation.----- Bev. Dear madam! why so ? 'tis but at best Methinks, 'tis pity the mind can't have a little a better taste in expence. To bestow upon one, more share in the entertainment.--The music is whom he may think one of the ornaments of the certainly fine; but, in my thoughts, there's none of whole creation; to be conscious that, from his suyour composers come up to old Shakespeare and perfluity, an innocent, a virtuous spirit is supOtway.

ported above the temptations, the sorrows of Bev. How, madam! why, if a woman of your life; that he sees satisfaction, health, and gladsense were to say this in a drawing-room ness in her countenance, while he enjoys the

happiness of seeing her : (as that I will

supEnter Serdant.

pose, too, or he must be too abstracted, too inSer. Sir, here's Signor Carbonelli says he waits sensible) I say, if he is allowed to delight in that your commands in the next room.

prospect, alas ! what mighty matter is there in Bư0. A propos ! you were saying yesterday, all this? madam, you had a mind to hear him.-Will you Ind. No mighty matter in so disinterested a give him leave to entertain you now?

friendship! Ind. By all means. Desire the gentleman to Bev. Disinterested! I can't think him so. walk in.

[Erit Servant. Your hero, madam, is no more than what every Bev. I fancy you will find something in his gentleman ought to be, and, I believe, very many hand that is uncommon.

he is only one who takes more delight in Ind. You are always finding ways, Mr Bevil, reflections, than in sensations; he is more pleased to make life seem less tedious to me.

with thinking than eating; that's the utmost you

can say of him.-Why, madam, a greater exEnter music-master.

pence than all this, men lay out upon an unneWhen the gentleman pleases.

cessary stable of horses. [After a sonata is played, Bevil jun. waits on Ind. Can you be sincere in what you say? the master to the door, 8c.

Bev. You may depend upon it. If you know Bev. You smile, madam, to see me so com any such man, he does not love dogs inordinately? plaisant to one whom I pay for his visit. Now, I Ind, No, that he does not. own, I think it not enough barely to pay

those Bev. Nor cards, nor dice? whose talents are superior to our own (I mean Ind. No. such talents as would become our condition if Bev. Nor bottle companions? we had them); methinks we ought to do some Ind. No. thing more than barely gratify them for what Bev. Nor loose women? they do at our command, only because their for Ind. No; I am sure he does not. tune is below us.

Bev. Take my word, then, if your admired Ind. You say I smile; I assure you it was a hero is not liable to any of these kind of demands, smile of approbation; for, indeed, 'I cannot but there's no such pre-eminence in this as you imathink it the distinguishing part of a gentleman gine: nay, this way of expence you speak of, is to make his superiority of fortune as easy to his what exalts and raises him that has a taste for it; inferiors as he can.-Now, once more to try and, at the same time, his delight is incapable of him. [ Aside. I was saying just now, I believe satiety, disgust, or penitence. you would never let me dispute with you, and I Ind. But still I'insist, his having no private dare say it will always be so: however, I interest in the action makes it prodigious, alınost must have your opinion upon a subject which incredible. created a debate between my aunt and me just Bev. Dear madam! I never knew you more before you came hither; she would needs have mistaken. Why, who can be more an usurer it, that no man ever does any extraordinary than he, who lays out his money in such valuable kindness or service to a woman but for his own purchases ? Il pleasure be worth purchasing, sake.

bow great a pleasure is it to him who has a true Bev. Well, madam ! indeed I can't but be of taste of life, to ease an aching heart; to see the her mind.

human countenance lighted up into smiles of Ind. What, though he should maintain and sup-joy, on the receipt of a bit of ore, wbich is suport her, without demanding any thing of her on perfluous, and otherwise useless, in a man's own her part !

pocket! What could a man do better with his Bev. Why, madam, is making an expence in cash? This is the effect of a humane disposithe service of a valuable woman, (for such I tion, where there is only a general tie of nature must suppose her) though she should never do and common necessity; 'what, then, must it be, him any favour, nay, though she should never when we serve an object of merit, of admiration! know who did her such survice, such a mighty Ind. Well, the more you argue against it, the heroic business?

more I shall admire the generosity.

Ber. Nay—then, madam, 'tis time to fly, after Ind. But did you observe any thing really? a declaration that my opinion strengthens my I thought he looked most charmingly graceful. adversary's argument1 had best hasten to my How engaging is nodesty in a man, when one appointment with Mr Myrtle, and be gone while knows there is a great mind within ! So tender we are friends, and before things are brought a confusion, and yet, in other respects, so much to an extremity:

[Exit carelessly. himself! so collected, so dauntless, so deter

mined ! Enter ISABELLA,

Isa, Ah, niece! there is a sort of bashfulness Isa. Well, madam, what think you of him which is the best engine to carry on a shameless now, pray?

purpose. Some men's modesty serves their Ind. I protest I begin to fear he is wholly dis wickedness, as hypocrisy gains the respect due interested in what he does for me. On my heart, to piety. But I will own to you, there is one he has no other view but the mere pleasure of hopeful symptom, if there could be such a thing doing it, and has ncither good or bad designs as a disinterested lover; but till--till-till upon me!

Ind. Till what? Isa. Ah, dear niece, don't be in fear of both; Isa. Till I know whether Mr Myrtle and Mr I'll warrant you, you will know time enough that Bevil are really friends or foes--and that I will he is not indifferent.

be convinced of before I sleep; for you shall not Ind. You please me when you tell me so; be deceived.

[Erit ISABELLA. for if he bas any wishes towards me, I know he Ind. I'ın sure I never shall, if your fears can will not pursue them but with honour.

guard me. In the mean time, I'll wrap myself Isa. I wish I were as contident of one as the up in the integrity of my own heart, nor dare to other.-I saw the respectful downcast of his eye doubt of his. when you catched him gazing at you during the music. He, I warrant, was surprised, as if he

As conscious honour all his actions steers, had been taken stealing your watch. Oh! the un

So conscious innocence dispels my fears. dissembled guilty look!



SCENE I.-SEALand's house.

Tom. I should perhaps have been stupidly Enter Tom, meeting Phillis.

above her, had I not been her equal; and, by

not being her equal, never had opportunity of Tom. Well, Phillis !What! with a face being her slave. I am my master's servant for as if you had never seen me before ?

—What a hire; I am my mistress's from choice, would she work have I to do now! She has seen some new vi. but approve my passion. sitant at their house, whose airs she has catched, Phil. I think it is the first time I ever heard and is resolved to practise them upon me. Num- you speak of it with any sense of anguish-if berless are the changes she'll dance through, be- you really do suffer any. fore she'll answer this plain question, videlicet, Tom. Ah, Phillis! can you doubt, after what Have you delivered my master's letter to your you have seen? lady? Nay, I know her too well to ask an ac Phil. I know not what I have seen, nor what count of it in an ordinary way; I'll be in my airs I have heard; but, since I am at leisure, you as well as she. [Aside.) –Well, madam, as un may tell me when you fell in love with ine, happy as you are at present pleased to make me, how you fell in love with me, and what you have I would not in the general' be any other than suffered, or are ready to suffer, for me. what I am; I would not be a bit wiser, a bit Tom. Oh, the unmerciful jade! when I':-) in richer, a bit taller, a bit shorter, than I am at haste about my master's letter--but I must go this instant. [Looking stedfastly at her. through it. (Aside.)-Ah! too well I remem

Phil. Did ever any body doubt, master Tho- ber when, and how, and on what occasion, I was mas, but that you were extremely satisfied with first surprised. It was on the first of April, one your sweet self?

thousand seven hundred and fifteen, I came into Tom. I am, indeed.—The thing I have least Mr Sealand's service; I was then a bobble-dereason to be satisfied with, is my fortune; and I hoy, and you a pretty little tight girl, a favourite am glad of my poverty; perhaps, if I were rich, handmaid of the housekeeper. At that time, I should overlook the finest woman in the world, we neither of us knew what was in us. I remeinthat wants nothing but riches to be thought so. ber, I was ordered to get out of the window, onu

Phil. How prettily was that said ! But I'll pair of stairs, to rub the sashes clean--the perhave a great deal more before I'll say one word. son employed on the inner side was your charms

[Aside. ing self, whom I had never seen before.

Phil. I think I remember the silly accident. Phil. Oh, Tom ! you grow wanton and senWhat made ye, you oaf, ready to fall down into sual, as my lady calls it: I must not endure it the street ?

Oh, foh! you are a man, an odious, filthy, male Tom. You know not, I warrant you—you could creature! you should behave, if you had a right not guess what surprised me--you took no de- sense, or were a man of sense, like Mr Cimberlight when you immediately grew wanton in your ton, with distance and indifference; or, let me conquest, and put your lips close, and breathed see, some other becoming hard word, with seemupon the glass; and, when my lips approached, ing in-in-advertency, and not rush on as if you a dirty cloth you rubbed against my face, and hid were seizing a prey. But hush!-the ladies are your beauteous forın; when I again drew near, coming.—Good Ton, don't kiss me above once, you spit, and rubbed, and smiled, at my undoing and be gone.—Lard! we have been fooling and

Phil. What silly thoughts you men have ! toying, and not considered the main business of

Tom. We were Pyramus and Thisbe-but ten our inasters and mistresses. times harder was my fate : Pyramus could peep Tom. Why, their business is to be fooling and only through a wall; I saw her, saw my Thisbe, toying, as soon as the parchments are ready. in all her beauty, but as much kept from her as Phil. Well remembered-Parchments—my laif a hundred walls between; for there was more, dy, to iny knowledge, is preparing writings bethere was her will against me.-Would she but tween her coxcomb cousin, Cimberton, and my relent !Oh, Phillis! Phillis! shorten my tor- mistress, though my master has an eye to the ment, and declare you pity me.

parcliments already prepared between your masPhil. I believe 'tis very sufferable; the pain is ter, Mr Bevil, and my mistress; and I believe not so exquisite, but that you may bear it a little my mistress herself has signed and sealed in her longer.

heart to Mr Myrtle.- Did I not bid you kiss me Tom. Oh, my charming Phillis ! if all depend but once, and be gone? But I know you won't be ed on my fair one's will, I could with glory suf- satisfied. fer-but, dearest creature ! consider our mi Town. No, you smooth creature! how should I? serable state.

[Kisses her hand. Phil. How! miserable !

Phil. Well, since you are humble, or so cool, Tom. We are miserable to be in love, and un as to rarish my hand only, I'll take iny leave of der the command of others than those we love you like a great lady, and you a man of quality. with that generous passion in the heart, to be

( They salute formally. sent to and fro on errands, called, checked, and Tom. Pox of all this state ! rated for the meanest trifles—Oh, Phillis ! you

[Offers to kiss her more closely. don't know how many china cups and glasses my Phil. No, pr’ythee, Tom, mind your business. passion for you has made me break : you have we must follow that interest which will take, broken my fortune as well as my heart.

but endeavour at that which will be most for us, Phil. Well, Mr Thomas, I cannot but own to and we like most. -Oh, here is my young mis. you that I believe your master writes, and you tress! [Tom tups her neck behind, and kisses his speak, the best of any men in the world. Never fingers.f Go, ye liquorish fool!

[Erit Tox. was a woman so well pleased with a letter, as

Enter LUCINDA. iny young lady was with his; and this is an 'an

[Gives him a letter. Luc. Who was that you were hurrying away? Tom. This was well done, my dearest! Con Phil. One that I had no mind to part with. sider, we must strike out some pretty livelihood Luc. Why did you turn him away,

then? for ourselves, by closing their affairs : it will be Phil. For your ladyship’s service; to carry nothing for them to give us a little being of our your ladyship's letter to his master. I could own, some small tenement out of their large pos- hardly get the rogue away. sessions : whatever they give us, it will be more Lür. Why, has he so little love for his master? than what they keep for themselves : one acre Phil. No; but he has so much love for bis with Phillis, would be worth a whole country mistress. without her.

Luc. But I thought I heard him kiss you : why Phil. Oh, could I but believe you!

do you suffer that? Tom. If not the utterance, believe the touch, Phil. Why, madam, we vulgar take it to be a of my lips.

[Kisses her. sign of love. We servants, we poor people, that Phil.' There's no contradicting you. How have nothing but our persons to bestow or treat closely you argue, Tom!

for, are forced to deal and bargain by way of Tom. And will closer, in due time; but I must sample; and therefore, as we have no parchments hasten with this letter, to basten towards the pos or wax necessary in our agreements, we squeeze session of you—then, Phillis, consider how I with our hands, and seal with our lips, to ratify must be revenged (look to it !) of all your skit- vows and promises. tishness, shy looks, and, at best, but coy com Luc. But can't you trust one another, without pliances.

such earnest down?

swer to it.

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