sets many a poor woman to work. But here comes miss. I hope I shall help her into the holy state too, ere long: And when she's once there, if she don't play her part as well as the best of 'em, I'm mistaken. Ha'n't I lost the letter I'm to give her?-No, here 'tis; so, now we shall see how pure nature will work with her, for art she knows none yet.

Enter CORINNA.

Cor. What does my mother-in-law want with me, Flippanta? They tell me she was asking for

me.

Flip. She's just gone out, so I suppose 'twas no great business.

Cor. Then I'll go into my chamber again. Flip. Nay, hold a little, if you please. I have some business with you myself, of more concern than what she had to say to you.

Cor. Make haste then, for you know my father won't let me keep your company; he says, you'll spoil me.

Flip. I spoil you! He's an unworthy man, to give you such ill impressions of a woman of my honour.

Cor. Nay, never take it to heart, Flippanta, for I don't believe a word he says. But he does so plague me with his continual scolding, I'm almost weary of my life.

Flip. Why, what is't he finds fault with?

Cor. Nay, I don't know, for I never mind him; when he has babbled for two hours together, methinks I have heard a mill going, that's all it does not at all change my opinion, Flippanta: it only makes my head ache.

Flip. Nay, if you can bear it so, you are not to be pitied so much as I thought.

Cor. Not pitied! Why, is it not a miserable thing, such a young creature as I am should be kept in perpetual solitude, with no other company but a parcel of old fumbling masters, to teach me geography, arithmetic, philosophy, and a thousand useless things? Fine entertainment, indeed, for a young maid at sixteen! Methinks one's time might be better employed.

Flip. Those things will improve your wit. Cor. Fiddle, faddle! Ha'n't I wit enough already? My mother-in-law has learned none of this trumpery, and is not she as happy as the day is long?

Flip. Then you envy her, I find?

Cor. And well I may. Does she not do what she has a mind to, in spite of her husband's teeth?

Flip. Look you there now. [Aside.] If she has not already conceived that as the supreme blessing of life!

Cor. I'll tell you what, Flippanta; if my mother-in-law would but stand by me a little, and encourage me, and let me keep her company, I'd rebel against my father to-morrow, and throw all my books in the fire. Why, he cann't touch a groat of my portion: do you know that, Flippanta?

Flip. So I shall spoil her. [Aside.] Pray Heaven the girl don't debauch me.

Cor. Look you: In short, he may think what he pleases; he may think himself wise; but thoughts are free, and I may think in my turn.I'm but a girl, 'tis true, and a fool too, if you believe him; but let him know, a foolish girl may make a wise man's heart ache; so he had as good be quiet.-Now it's out.

Flip. Very well, I love to see a young woman have spirit: it's a sign she'll come to something.

Cor. Ah, Flippanta, if you would but encourage me, you'll find me quite another thing. I'm a devilish girl in the bottom. I wish you'd but let me make one amongst you.

Flip. That never can be, till you are married. Come, examine your strength a little. Do you think you durst venture upon a husband?

Cor. A husband! Why, a-if you would but encourage me. Come, Flippanta, be a true friend now. I'll give you advice, when I have got a little more experience. Do you in your very conscience and soul think I am old enough to be married?

Flip. Old enough! Why, you are sixteen, are you not?

Cor. Sixteen! I am sixteen, two months, and odd days, woman. I keep an exact account. Flip. The deuce you are!

Cor. Why, do you then truly and sincerely think I am old enough?

Flip. I do, upon my faith, child.

Cor. Why then, to deal as fairly with you, Flippanta, as you do with me, I have thought so any time these three years.

Flip. Now I find you have more wit than ever I thought you had; and to shew you what an opinion I have of your discretion, I'll shew you a thing I thought to have thrown in the fire. Cor. What is it, for Jupiter's sake?

Flip. Something will make your heart chuck within you.

Cor. My dear Flippanta!

Flip. What do you think it is?

Cor. I don't know, nor I don't care, but I'm mad to have it.

Flip. It's a four-cornered thing.

Cor. What, like a cardinal's cap p? Flip. No, 'tis worth a whole conclave of 'em. How do you like it? [Shewing the letter. Cor. Ó lard! A letter!-Is there ever a token

Flip. So, here's fine work. This 'tis to deal with girls before they come to know the distinction of sexes.

Cor. Confess who you had it from, and perhaps, for this once, I mayn't tell my father.

Flip. Why then, since it must out, 'twas the colonel. But why are you so scrupulous, madam?

Cor. Because if it had come from any body else I would not have given a farthing for it. [Twitching it eagerly out of her hand. Flip. Ah, my dear little rogue. [Kissing her.] You frightened me out of my wits.

Cor. Let me read it, let me read it, let me read it, let me read it, I say. Um, um, um-" Cupid's" ―um, um, um—"Darts"-um, um, um-"Beauty". -um-"Charms"-um, um, um-" Angel" -um- -"Goddess"- um- [Kissing the letter]-am, um, um-" Truest lover"-hum, um-" Eternal constancy"-um, um, um"Cruel”-um, um, um-" Racks"-um, um"Tortures"-um,um-"Fifty daggers"-um, um -"Bleeding heart"-um, um-" Dead man.'

-Very well, a mighty civil letter, I promise you; not one smutty word in it: I'll go lock it in my comb-box.

up

Flip. Well-but what does he say to you? Cor. Not a word of news, Flippanta; 'tis all about business.

Flip. Does he not tell you he's in love with you?

Cor. Ay, but he told me that before. Flip. How so? He never spoke to you. Cor. He sent me word by his eyes. Flip. Did he so? Mighty well! I thought you had been to learn that language.

Cor. O, but you thought wrong, Flippanta. What, because I don't go a visiting, and see the world, you think I know nothing. But you shou'd consider, Flippanta, that the more one's alone, the more one thinks; and 'tis thinking that improves a girl. I'll have you to know, when I was younger than I am now, by more than I'll boast of, I thought of things would have made you stare again.

Fap. Well, since you are so well vers'd in your business, I suppose I need not inform you, that if you don't write your gallant an answer -he'll die.

Cor. Nay, now, Flippanta, I confess you tell me something I did not know before. Do you speak in serious sadness? Are men given to die, if their mistresses are sour to 'em?

Flip. Um-I cann't say they all die—No, I cann't say they all do; but, truly, I believe it wou'd go very hard with the colonel.

Cor. Lard, I would not have my hands in blood for thousands; and therefore, Flippanta—if you'll encourage me

Flip. O, by all means an answer.

Cor. Well, since you say it then, I'll e'en in and do it, tho' I protest to you, (lest you should think me too forward now,) he's the only man that wears a beard, I'd ink my fingers for. May be, if I marry him, in a year or two's time I mayn't be so nice.

[Aside. [Exit CORINNA.

Mon. Ah, Flippanta! How do you do, good Flippanta? How do you do?

Flip. Thank you, sir, well, at your service. Mon. And how does the good family, your master, and your fair mistress? Are they at home?

Flip. Neither of them; my master has been gone out these two hours, and my lady is just gone with your wife.

Mon. Well, I won't say I have lost my labour, however, as long as I have met with you, Flippanta; for I have wish'd a great while for an opportunity to talk with you a little. You won't take it amiss, if I should ask you a few questions?

Flip. Provided you leave me to my liberty in my answers. What's this cot-quean going to pry into now? [Aside. Mon. Pr'ythee, good Flippanta, how do your master and mistress live together?

Flip. Live! Why- -like man and wife, generally out of humour, quarrel often, seldom agree, complain of one another; and perhaps both have reason. In short, 'tis much as 'tis at your house.

Mon. Good-lack! But whose side are you generally of?

Flip. O' the right side always-my lady's. And if you'll have me give you my opinion of these matters, sir, I do not think a husband can ever be in the right.

Mon. Ha!

Flip. Little, peeking, creeping, sneaking, stingy, covetous, cowardly, dirty, cuckoldy things. Mon. Ha!

ses.

Flip. Fit for nothing but tailors and dry-nur

Flip. A centry upon pleasure, set to be a plague on lovers, and damn poor women before their time.

Mon. A husband is indeed

Flip. Sir, I say, he is nothing-A beetle without wings, a windmill without sails, a ship in a calm.

Mon. Ha!

Flip. A bag without money-an empty bottle -dead small-beer.

Mon. Ha!

Flip. A quack without drugs.

Mon. Ha!

Flip. A lawyer without knavery.
Mon. Ha!

Flip. A courtier without flattery.
Mon. Ha!

Flip. A king without an army-or a people with one. Have I drawn him, sir?

Mon. Why, truly, Flippanta, I cann't deny but there are some general lines of resemblance. But you know there may be exceptions.

Flip. Hark you, sir; shall I deal plainly with you? Had I got a husband, I wou'd put him in mind that he was marry'd as well as I:

[Sings.

For were I the thing call'd a wife,
And my fool grew too fond of his pow`r,
He should look like an ass all his life,

For a prank that I'd play in an hour. Tol lol la ra tol lol, &c.-Do you observe that, sir?

Mon. I do, and think you wou'd be in the right on't. But, pr'ythee, why dost not give this advice to thy mistress?

Flip. For fear it should go round to your wife, sir; for you know they are play-fellows.

Mon. O, there's no danger of my wife; she knows I'm none of those husbands.

Flip. Are you sure she knows that, sir? Mon. I'm sure she ought to know it, Flippanta, for really I have but four faults in the world. Flip: And pray what may they be?

Mon. Why, I'm a little slovenly; I shift but once a week.

art none of my friend; thou dost not love me at all; no, not at all.

Flip. And whither is this little reproach going to lead us now?

Mon. You have power over your fair mistress,
Flippanta.
Flip. Sir!

Mon. But what then? You hate me.
Flip. I understand you not.

Mon. There's not a moment's trouble her naughty husband gives her, but I feel it too. Flip. I don't know what you mean.

Mon. If she did but know what part I take in her sufferings

Flip. Mighty obscure.

Mon. Well, I'll say no more; but-
Flip. All Hebrew.

Mon. If thou wou'dst but tell her on't.
Flip. Still darker and darker.
Mon. I should not be ungrateful.

Flip. Ah, now I begin to understand you.
Mon. Flippanta, there's my purse.

Flip. Say no more; now you explain, indeed
-You are in love?

Mon. Bitterly-and I do swear by all the gods

Flip. Hold-Spare 'em for another time; you stand in no need of 'em now. A usurer that parts with his purse, gives sufficient proof of his sincerity.

Mon. I hate my wife, Flippanta.

Flip. That we'll take upon your bare word.
Mon. She's the devil, Flippanta.
Flip. You like your neighbour's better.
Mon. Oh! an angel.

Flip. What pity it is the law don't allow trucking!

Mon. If it did, Flippanta!

Flip. But since it don't, sir-keep the reins upon your passion: Don't let your flame rage too high, lest my lady shou'd be cruel, and it should dry you up to a mummy.

Mon. "Tis impossible she can be so barbarous, to let me die. Alas, Flippanta, a very small matter wou'd save my life.

Flip. Then y'are dead-for we women never grant any thing to a man who will be satisfied with a little.

Mon. Dear Flippanta, that was only my modesty; but since you'll have it out-I am a very dragon; and so your lady'll find--if ever she thinks fit to be- -Now I hope you'll stand my friend.

Flip. Well, sir, as far as my credit goes, it shall be employ'd in your service.

Mon. My best Flippanta-tell her-I'm all hers-tell her-my body's hers-tell her-my soul's hers-and tell her-my estate's hers. Lard have mercy upon me, how I'm in love!

Flip. Poor man! what a sweat he's in! But hark-I hear my master: For Heaven's sake compose yourself a little; you are in such a fit, o' my conscience, he'll smell you out.

Gripe. O, here's the right-hand; the rest of the body can't be far off. Where's my wife, huswife!

Flip. An admirable question!Why, she's gone abroad, sir.

Gripe. Abroad, abroad? abroad already? Why, she used to be stewing in her bed three hours after this time, as late as 'tis: What makes her gadding so soon?

Flip. Business, I suppose.

Gripe. Business! She has a pretty head for business truly. O ho, let her change her way of living, or I'll make her change a light heart for a heavy one.

Flip. And why would you have her change her way of living, sir! You see it agrees with her. She never look'd better in her life.

Gripe. Don't tell me of her looks; I have done with her looks long since. But I'll make her change her life, or

Flip. Indeed, sir, you won't.

Gripe. Why, what shall hinder me, insolence? Flip. That which hinders most husbandscontradiction.

Gripe. Suppose I resolve I won't be contradicted?

Flip. Suppose she resolves you shall ? Gripe. A wife's resolution is not good by law. Flip. Nor a husband's by custom. Gripe. I tell thee I will not bear it. Flip. I tell you, sir, you will bear it. Gripe. Oons, I have borne it three years already.

Flip. By that you see 'tis but giving your mind to it.

Gripe. My mind to i.! Death and the devil! My mind to it!

Flip. Look ye, sir, you may swear and damn, and call the furies to assist you, but till you apply the remedy to the right place, you'll never cure the disease. You fancy you have got an extravagant wife: is't not so?"

Gripe. Pr'ythee change me that word fancy, and it is so.

Flip. Why, there's it, Men are strangely troubled with the vapours of late. You'll wonder now, if I tell you, you have the most reasonable wife in town; and that all the disorders you

think you see in her, are only here, here, here, in your head. [Thumping his forehead. Gripe. She is then, in thy opinion, a reasonable woman?

Flip. By my faith, I think so.

Gripe. I shall run mad-Name me an extravagance in the world she is not guilty of.

Flip. Name me an extravagance in the world she is guilty of.

Gripe. Come then: Does not she put the whole house in disorder?

Flip. Not that I know of, for she never comes into it but to sleep.

Gripe. 'Tis very well. Does she employ any one moment of her life in the government of her family?

Flip. She is so submissive a wife, she leaves it entirely to you.

Gripe. Admirable! Does she not spend more money in coach-hire and chair-hire, than would maintain six children?

Flip. She's too nice of your credit to be seen daggling in the streets.

Gripe. Good! Do I set eye on her sometimes in a week together?

Flip. That, sir, is because you are never stirring at the same time; you keep odd hours; you are always going to bed when she's rising, and rising just when she's coming to bed.

Gripe. Yes, truly, night into day, and day into night; bawdy-house play, that's her trade; but these are trifles: Has she not lost her diamond necklace? Answer me to that, trapes.

Flip. Yes; and has sent as many tears after it, as if it had been her husband.

Gripe. Ah- -the pox take her; but enough. 'Tis resolved, and I will put a stop to the course of her life, or I will put a stop to the course of her blood, and so she shall know, the first time I meet with her; [Aside ;] which, though we are man and wife, and lie under one roof, 'tis very possible may not be this fortnight. [Exit GRIPE. FLIPPANTA sola.

Nay, thou hast a blessed time on't, that must be confessed. What a miserable devil is a husband! Insupportable to himself, and a plague to every thing about him. Their wives do by them as children do by dogs-teaze and provoke 'em, 'till they make them so curs'd, they snarl and bite at every thing that comes in their reach. This wretch here is grown perverse to that de gree, he's for his wife's keeping at home, and making hell of his house, so he may be the devil in it, to torment her. How niggardly soever he is, of all things he possesses, he is willing to purchase her misery, at the expence of his own peace. But he'd as good be still, for he'll miss of his aim. If I know her, (which I think I do,) she'll set his blood in such a ferment, it shall bubble out at every pore of him; whilst hers is so quiet in her veins, her pulse shall like a pendulum. (Exit.

go

SCENE I.-Mrs AMLET'S House.

Enter DICK.

Mrs Am. Where she may have a good example before her eyes.

Dick, O Lord! O Lord! O Lord! Mrs Am. I'm a woman that don't so much as encourage an incontinent look towards me. Dick. I tell you,' 'sdeath! I tell you-Mrs Am. If a man shou'd make an uncivil motion to me, I'd spit in his lascivious face: and all this you may tell them, sirrah.

Enter Mrs AMLET.

-Pray, mother, pray to, &c.

Mrs Am. Is it possible?--Dick upon his humble knee! Ah, my dear child !—May Heaven be good unto thee.

Dick. I'm come, my dear mother, to pay my duty to you, and to ask your consent to―― Mrs Am. What a shape is there!

Dick. To ask your consent, I say, to marry a great fortune; for what is riches in this world without a blessing? And how can there be a blessing without respect and duty to parents?

Mrs Am. What a nose he has !

Dick. And therefore it being the duty of every good child not to dispose of himself in marriage without the

Mrs Am. Now the Lord love thee—[Kissing him-for thou art a goodly young man. Well, Dick And how goes it with the lady? Are her eyes open to thy charms? Does she see what's for her own good? Is she sensible of the blessings thou hast in store for her? Ha! is all sure? Hast thou broke a piece of money with her? Speak, bird, do: Don't be modest, and hide thy love from thy mother, for I'm an indulgent pa

rent.

Dick. Nothing under heaven can prevent my good fortune, but it's being discover'd I am your

son.

Dick. Death and furies! the woman's out of

Mrs Am. Don't you swear, you rascal you, don't you swear; we shall have you damn'd at last, and then I shall be disgrac'd.

Dick. Why then, in cold blood hear me speak to you: I tell you it's a city-fortune I'm about; she cares not a fig for your virtue; she'll hear of nothing but quality: she has quarrell'd with one of her friends for having a better complexion, and is resolved she'll marry, to take place of her. Mrs Am. What a cherry lip is there!

Dick. Therefore, good dear mother, now have a care, and don't discover me; for if you do, all's lost.

Mrs Am. Dear, dear, how thy fair bride will be delighted. Go, get thee gone, go: go fetch her home, go fetch her home; I'll give her a sackposset, and a pillow of down she shall lay her head upon. Go fetch her home, I say.

Dick. Take care then of the main chance, my dear mother: remember, if you discover