Don't u

Gripe ber so re

good humo yetence to Clar The I shall conte sad company

Gripe. O time sha'n't lie 2 mind now for -Aran be against her be night

Clar. You best woman in the Gripe. Is not sh Flip. Ah, the ol Gripe. Then we' sometimes my niece that writes -her b get; with her husban merry; and his little & fat curate; and my un lis wife and all his chi ourselves rarely.

Clar. O, for that, my plain with you: I'll see n ta, who has the manners converse with none but w Gripe. Ay, ay, they sha or other.

Clar. Then, my dear, to sat, we'll have concerts of Gripe. Music in my house Clar. Yes, my child; we n the house will be so dull, I sha and be going abroad again.

Flip. Nay, she has so much you, sir, you can't dispute such Gripe. Ay, but if I have musi Clar. Ay, but, sir, I must have Flip. Not every day, madam d Clar. No, bless me, no; but th weck: three days more we'll play at ombre, piquet, basset, and close the evening with a handsome ball.

Clur. Then, my love, you know t one day more upon our hands, and th the day of conversation: we'll read v of books, invent modes, tell lies, scan friends, be pert upon religion; and, in s ploy every moment of it in some pro exercise or other.

Clar. I must not, however, so far lose the merit of my consent, as to let you think I'm weary of going abroad, my dear: What I do is purely to oblige you; which, that I may be able to perform without a relapse, I'll invent what ways I can, to make my prison supportable to me. Flip. Her prison! pretty bird! her prison! Don't that word melt you, sir?

Gripe. I must confess I did not expect to find her so reasonable.

Flip. O, sir, soon or late wives come into good humour: husbands must only have a little patience to wait for it.

Clar. The innocent little diversions, dear, that I shall content myself with, will be chiefly play and company.

Gripe. O, I'll find you employment; your time sha'n't lie upon your hands; tho', if you have a mind now for such a companion as a- -let me see -Araminta, for example; why, I sha'n't be against her being with you from morning till night.

Clar. You cann't oblige me more: 'tis the best woman in the world. Gripe. Is not she?

Flip. Ah, the old satyr! [Aside. Gripe. Then we'll have, besides her, may be sometimes-her husband; and we shall see my niece that writes verses, and my sister Fidget; with her husband's brother, that's always merry; and his little cousin, that's to marry the fat curate; and my uncle the apothecary, with his wife and all his children. O, we shall divert ourselves rarely. Flip. Good.

[Aside. Clar. O, for that, my dear child, I must be plain with you: I'll see none of 'em but Araminta, who has the manners of the court; for I'll converse with none but women of quality.

Gripe. Ay, ay, they shall all have one quality or other.

Clar. Then, my dear, to make our home pleasant, we'll have concerts of music sometimes.

Gripe. Music in my house!

Clar. Yes, my child; we must have music, or the house will be so dull, I shall get the spleen, and be going abroad again.

Flip. Nay, she has so much complaisance for you, sir, you cann't dispute such things with her. Gripe. Ay, but if I have music-— Clar. Ay, but, sir, I must have music. Flip. Not every day, madam don't mean.

Clar. No, bless me, no; but three concerts aweek three days more we'll play, after dinner, at ombre, piquet, basset, and so forth, and close the evening with a handsome supper ball.

Gripe. A ball!

and a

Clar. Then, my love, you know there is but one day more upon our hands, and that shall be the day of conversation: we'll read verses, talk of books, invent modes, tell lies, scandalize our friends, be pert upon religion; and, in short, employ every moment of it in some pretty witty exercise or other.

Flip. What order you see 'tis she proposes to live in! A most wonderful regularity! Gripe. Regularity, with a pox!

[Aside.

Clar. And as this kind of life, so soft, so smooth, so agreeable, must needs invite a vast deal of company to partake of it, 'twill be necessary to have the decency of a porter at our door, you know.

Gripe. A porter!--A scrivener have a porter, madam!

Clar. Positively, a porter.

Gripe. Why, no scrivener since Adam ever had a porter, woman!

Clar. You will therefore be renowned in story, for having the first, my life.

Gripe. Flippanta.

Flip. Hang it, sir, never dispute a trifle: if you vex her, perhaps she'll insist upon a Swiss. [Aside to GRIPE.

Gripe. But, madam

Clar. But, sir, a porter; positively a porter: without that, the treaty's null, and I go abroad this moment.

Flip. Come, sir; never lose so advantageous a peace for a pitiful porter.

Gripe. Why, I shall be hooted at; the boys will throw stones at my porter. Besides, where shall I have money for all this expence ?

Clar. My dear, who asks you for any? Don't be in a fright, chicken.

Gripe. Don't be in a fright, madam! But where, I say

Flip. Madam plays, sir; think on that: women that play have inexhaustible mines; and wives who receive least money from their husbands are many times those who spend the most.

Clar. So, my dear, let what Flippanta says content you. Go, my life; trouble yourself with nothing, but let me do just as I please, and all will be well. I'm going into my closet, to consider of some more things to enable me to give you the pleasure of my company at home, without making it too great a misery to a yielding wife. [Exit CLARISSA.

Flip. Mirror of goodness! Pattern to all wives! Well, sure, sir, you are the happiest of all husbands.

Gripe. Yes-and a miserable dog for all that too, perhaps.

Flip. Why, what can you ask more than this matchless complaisance?

Gripe. I don't know what I can ask, and yet I'm not satisfied with what I have neither; the devil mixes in it all, I think; complaisant or perverse, it feels just as it did.

Flip. Why then, your uneasiness is only a disease, sir; perhaps a little bleeding and purging would relieve you.

Clar. Flippanta! [CLARISSA calls within. Flip. Madam calls. I come, madam. Come, be merry, be merry, sir; you have cause, take my word for't. Poor devil! [Aside.]

[Exit FLIPPANTA. Gripe. I don't know that, I don't know that: But this I do know, that an honest man who

has married a jade, whether she's pleased to spend her time at home or abroad, had better have lived a bachelor.

Enter BRASS.

Brass. O, sir, I'm mighty glad I have found

you.

Gripe. Why, what's the matter, pr'ythee?
Bruss. Can nobody hear us?

Gripe. No, no; speak quickly.

Brass. You ha'n't seen Araminta since the last letter I carry'd her from you?

Gripe. Not I: I go prudently; I don't press things like your young firebrand lovers.

Brass. But, seriously, sir, are you very much in love with her?

Gripe. As mortal man has been.

Bruss. I'm sorry for❜t.

Gripe. Why so, dear Brass?

!

Brass. If you were never to see her more now suppose such a thing, d'you think 'twould break

your heart?

Gripe. Oh!

Gripe. But is there a necessity, then, they should ruin somebody?

Brass. Yes, marry is there; how would you have 'em support their expence else? Why, sir, you cann't conceive now- -you cann't conceive what Araminta's privy purse requires. Only her privy purse, sir! Why, what do you imagine, now, she gave me for the last letter I carried her from you? 'Tis true, 'twas from a man she liked, else, perhaps, I had had my bones broke. But what do you think she gave me?

Gripe. Why, mayhapa shilling.

Brass. A guinea, sir, a guinea. You see by that how fond she was on it, by the by. But then, sir, her coach-hire, her chair-hire, her pia money, her play-money, her china, and her charity-would consume peers. A great soul, a very great soul! But what's the end of all this? Gripe. Ha!

· Brass. Why, I'll tell you what the end isa nunnery.

Gripe. A nunnery ! Bruss. A nunnery.

-In short, she is at last

Gripe. My dear friend!

Brass. I'm in your interest deep; you see it. Gripe. I do but speak-what miserable story hast thou for me?

Brass. I had rather the devil had-phu-flown away with you quick, than to see you so much in love, as I perceive you are, since

Gripe. Since what?-ho?

Brass. Araminta, sir.

Gripe. Dead?

Brass. No.

Gripe. How then?

Brass. Worse.

Gripe. Out with it.
Brass. Broke.
Gripe. Broke!

Brass. She is, poor lady, in a most unfortunate situation of affairs. But I have said too much.

Gripe. No, no; 'tis very sad, but let's hear it. Brass. Sir, she charged me, on my life, never to mention it to you, of all men living.

Gripe. Why, who shouldst thou tell it to, but to the best of her friends?

Brass. Ay, why, there's it now; it's going just as I fancy'd. Now will I be hanged if you are not enough in love to be engaging in this matter. But I must tell you, sir, that as much concern as I have for that most excellent, beautiful, agreeable, distressed, unfortunate lady, I'm too much your friend and servant, ever to let it be said "twas the means of your being ruined for a woman-by letting you know she esteemed you more than any other man upon earth.

Gripe. Ruined! What dost thou mean? Brass. Mean! Why, mean that women always ruin those that love 'em; that's the rule. Gripe. The rule!

Brass. Yes, the rule. Why, would you have'em ruin those that don't? How shall they bring that about?

a battalion of duns, that rather than tell her husband, (who, you know, is such a dog, he'd let her go, if she did,) she has e'en determined to turn papist, and bid the world adieu for life.

Gripe. O terrible! A papist!

Bruss. Yes, when a handsome woman has brought herself into difficulties, the devil cann't help her out of-To a nunnery, that's another rule, sir.

Gripe. But, but, but, pr'ythee, Brass, butBrass. But all the buts in the world, sir, won't stop her: She is a woman of a noble resolution. So, sir, your humble servant. I pity her; I pity you: Turtle and mate. But the Fates will have it so: all is pack'd up, and I am now going to call her a coach; for she resolves to slip off without saying a word: and the next visit she receives from her friends will be through a melancholy grate, with a veil instead of a top-knot. [Going.

Gripe. It must not be; by the powers it must not; she was made for the world, and the world was made for her.

Brass. And yet you see, sir, how small a share she has on't.

Gripe. Poor woman! Is there no way to save her?

Brass. Save her! No; how can she be saved? Why, she owes above five hundred pounds. Gripe. Oh!

Brass. Five hundred pounds, sir. She's like to be saved indeed-Not but that I know them in this town would give me one of the five, if I would persuade her to accept of the other four; but she has forbid me mentioning it to any soul living; and I have disobeyed her only to you; and so- -I'll go and call a coach.

Gripe. Hold-Dost think, my poor Brass, one might not order it so, as to compound those debts for--for--twelve pence in the pound?

Brass. Sir, d'ye hear? I have already try'd'em with ten shillings, and not a rogue will prick up

his car at it. Though, after all, for three hundred pounds, all in glittering gold, I could set their chaps a watering. But where's that to be had with honour? there's the thing, sir—I'll go and call a coach.

Gripe. Hold once more: I have a note in my closet of two hundred, ay-and fifty, I'll go and give it her myself.

Brass. You will! very genteel truly. Go, slapdash, and offer a woman of her scruples money, bolt in her face! why you might as well offer her a scorpion, and she'd as soon touch it.

Gripe. Shall I carry it to her creditors then, and treat with them?

Brass. Ay, that's a rare thought.
Gripe. Is not it, Brass?

Brass. Only one little inconvenience by the

Brass. That they are your wife's creditors as well as her's; and perhaps it might not be altogether so well to see you clearing the debts of your neighbour's wife, and leaving those of your own unpaid.

Gripe. Why that's true now.
Brass. I'm wise, you see, sir.

Gripe. Thou art; and I'm but a young lover: But what shall we do then?

Brass. Why I'm thinking, that if you give me the note, do you see, and that I promise to give you an account of it

Gripe. Ay, but look you, Brass

Bruss. But look you!-Why what, d'ye think I'm a pick-pocket! D'ye think I intend to run away with your note, your paltry note?

Gripe. I don't say so-- -I say only, that in

case-

Brass. Case, sir! there's no case, but the case I have put you; and since you heap cases upon cases, where there is but three hundred rascally pounds in the case--I'll go and call a coach.

Gripe. Pr'ythee don't be so testy; come, no more words; follow me to my closet, and I'll give thee the money.

Bruss. A terrible effort you make indeed; you are so much in love, your wits are all upon the wing, just going; and for three hundred pounds you put a stop to their flight: Sir, your wits are worth that, or your wits are worth nothing. Come away.

Gripe. Well, say no more, thou shalt be satisfied. [Exeunt.

her mistress and Araminta, of my passion for the young gentlewoman; and truly, to oblige me, (supposed no ill match by the by,) they are resolved to propose it immediately to her father.

Brass. That's the devil! we shall come to papers and parchments, jointures and settlements, relations meet on both sides: that's the devil.

Dick. I intended this very day to propose to Flippanta the carrying her off: And I'm sure the young housewife would have tuck'd up her coats, and have march'd.

Brass. Ay, with the body and the soul of her.

Dick. Why then, what damn'd luck is this? Brass. 'Tis your damn'd luck, not mine: I have always seen it in your ugly phiz, in spite of your powdered periwig- -pox take ye- -he'll be hanged at last. Why don't you try to get her off yet?

Dick. I have no money, you dog; you know you have stript me of every penny.

Brass. Coine, damn it, I'll venture one cargo more upon your rotten bottom: but if ever I see one glance of your hempen fortune again, I'm off your partnership for ever-- -I shall never thrive with him.

Dick. An impudent rogue; but he's in possession of my estate, so I must bear with him.

[Aside.

Brass. Well, come, I'll raise a hundred pounds for your use, upon my wife's jewels here; [Pulling out the necklace.] her necklace shall pawn for't.

Dick. Remember though. that if things fail, I'm to have the necklace again; you know you agreed to that?

Brass. Yes, and if I make it good, you'll be the better for't; if not, I shall: so you see where the cause will pinch.

Dick. Why, you barbarous dog, you won't offer to

Brass. No words now; about your business, march. Go stay for me at the next tavern: I'll go to Flippanta, and try what I can do for you. Dick. Well, I'll go, but don't think to[Exit DICK.

pox, sir

BRASS solus.

0

Brass. Will you be gone? A pretty title you'd have to sue me upon truly, if I should have a mind to stand upon the defensive, as perhaps I may; I have done the rascal service enough to lull my conscience upon it, I'm sure: But 'tis time enough for that. Let me sce-first I'll go to Flippanta, and put a stop to this family way of match-making, then sell our necklace for what ready money it will produce; and, by this time to-morrow, I hope we shall be in possession oft'other jewel here; a precious jewel, as she's set in gold: I believe for the stone itself we may part with it again to a friend

tester.

2 H

-for a

[Exit.

SCENE L.-GRIPE'S House.

Enter BRASS and FLIPPANTA. Brass. Well, you agree I'm in the right, don't you?

Flip. I don't know; if your master has the estate he talks of, why not do it all above-board? Well, though I am not much of his mind, I'm much in his interest, and will therefore endeavour to serve him in his own way,

Brass. That's kindly said, my child, and I believe I shall reward thee one of these days, with as pretty a fellow to thy husband for it, asFlip. Hold your prating, Jack-a-dandy, and leave me to my business.

[Exit BRASS.

Brass. I obey-adieu. [Kisses her.] Flip. Rascal!

Enter CORINNA.

Cor. Ah, Flippanta, I'm ready to sink down, my legs tremble under me, my dear Flippy. Flip. And what's the affair?

Cor. My father's there within, with my mother and Araminta; I never saw him in so good a humour in my life.

Flip. And is that it that frightens you so? Cor. Ah, Flippanta, they are just going to speak to him about my marrying the colonel. Flip. Are they so? so much the worse; they are too hasty.

Cor. O no, not a bit; I slipt out on purpose, you must know, to give them an opportunity; would it were done already.

Flip. I tell you no; get you in again immediately, and prevent it.

Cor. My dear, dear, I am not able; I never was in such a way before.

Flip. Never in a way to be married before, ha? is not that it?

Cor. Ah, lord, if I'm thus before I come to it, Flippanta, what shall I be upon the very spot? Do but feel with what a thumpaty thump it goes. [Putting her hand to her heart. Flip. Nay, it does make a filthy bustle, that's the truth on't, child; but I believe I shall make it leap another way, when I tell you, I'm cruelly afraid your father won't consent, after all.

Cor. Why, he won't be the death of me, will he?

Flip. I don't know, old folks are cruel; but we'll have a trick for him. Brass and I have been consulting upon the matter, and agreed upon a surer way of doing it in spite of his teeth.

Cor. Ay, marry, sir, that were something. Flip. But then he must not know a word of any thing towards it.

Cor. No, no.

Flip. So, get you in immediately.

Mon. Well, my best friend, how go matters? Has the restitution been received, ha? Was she pleased with it?

Flip. Yes, truly; that is, she was pleased to see there was so honest a man in this immoral age.

Mon. Well, but a-does she know that it was I that

Flip. Why, you must know I begun to give her a little sort of a hint, and--and so-wby, and so she began to put on a sort of a severe, haughty, reserved, angry, forgiving air. But soft; here she comes: you'll see how you stand with her presently but don't be afraid. Courage. Mon. He, hem.

:

Enter CLARISSA.

'Tis no small piece of good fortune, madam, to find you at home: I have often endeavoured it in vain.

Clar. 'Twas then unknown to me; for if I could often receive the visits of so good a friend at home, I should be more reasonably blamed for being so much abroad.

Mon. Madam, you make me

Clar. You are the man of the world whose company I think is most to be desired. I don't compliment you when I tell you so, I assure you."

Mon. Alas, madam, your poor humble ser

vant

Clar. My poor humble servant however (with all the esteem I have for him) stands suspected with me for a vile trick, I doubt he has play'd me, which if I could prove upon him, I'm afraid I should punish him very severely.

Mon. I hope, madam, you'll believe I am not capable of

Clar. Look you, look you, you are capable of whatever you please, you have a great deal of wit, and know how to give a nice and gallant turn to every thing: but if you will have me