course, that books and solitude had secured you 'till winter.

Ld More. Nay, I did not think of coming myself, but I found myself not very well in London; so I thought-a-little hunting, and this airSir Cha. Ha! ha! ha!

Ld More. What do you laugh at ?

Sir Cha. Only because you should not go on with your story: if you did but see how silly a man fumbles for an excuse, when he is a little ashamed of being in love, you would not wonder what I laugh at; ha, ha, ha!

Ld More. Thou art a very happy fellow-nothing touches thee-always easy-Then you conclude I follow Lady Betty again?

Sir Cha. Yes, faith do I: and to make you easy, my lord, I cannot see why a man, that can ride fifty miles after a poor stag, should be ashamed of running twenty in chase of a fine woman, that, in all probability, will show him so much the better sport, too. [Embracing. Ld More. Dear Charles, don't flatter my distemper; I own I still follow her: do you think her charms have power to excuse me to the world? Sir Cha. Ay! ay! a fine woman's an excuse for any thing, and the scandal of our being in jest, is a jest itself; we are all forced to be their fools before we can be their favourites.

Ld More. You are willing to give me hope; but I cann't believe she has the least degree of inclination for me.

Sir Cha. I don't know that-I am sure her pride likes you, and that's generally your fine ladies' darling passion.

Ld More. Do you suppose, if I could grow indifferent, it would touch her?

Sir Cha. Sting her to the heart- -Will you take my advice?

Ld More. I have no relief but that. Had I not thee now and then to talk an hour, my life were insupportable.

Sir Cha. I am sorry for that, my lord ;-but mind what I say to you--but hold, first let me know the particulars of your quarrel with her.

Ld More. Why-about three weeks ago, when I was last here at Windsor, she had for some days treated me with a little more reserve, and another with more freedom, than I found myself

easy at.

Sir Cha. Who was that other?

Ld More. One of my lord Foppington's gang -the pert coxcomb that's just come to a small estate and a great periwig-he that sings himself among the women- -What do you call him?

He won't speak to a commoner when a lord is in company- -you always see him with a cane dangling at his button, his breast open, no gloves, one eye tucked under his hat, and a tooth-pick -Startup, that's his name.

Sir Cha. O! I have met him in a visitpray go on.

-but

Ld More. So, disputing with her about the conduct of women, I took the liberty to tell her how far I thought she erred in hers. She told me

I was rude, and that she would never believe any. man could love a woman, that thought her in the wrong in any thing she had a mind to, at least if he dared to tell her so. This provoked me into her whole character, with so much spirit and civil malice, as I have seen her bestow upon a woman of true beauty, when the men first toasted her; so, in the middle of my wisdom, she told me, she desired to be alone, that I would take my odious proud heart along with me, and trouble her no more- -bowed very low, and, as I left the room, vowed I never would, and that my proud heart should never be humbled by the outside of a fine woman-About an hour after, I whipped into my chaise for London, and have never seen her since.

Sir Cha. Very well; and how did you find your proud heart by that time you got to Hounslow?

Ld More. I am almost ashamed to tell youI found her so much in the right, that I cursed my pride for contradicting her at all, and began to think, according to her maxim, that no woman could be in the wrong to a man that she had in her power.

Sir Cha. Ha, ha! Well, I'll tell you what you shall do. You can see her without trembling, I hope?

Ld More. Not if she receives me well.

Sir Cha. If she receives you well, you will have no occasion for what I am going to say to you--first you shall dine with her.

Ld More. How? where? when?

Sir Cha. Here! here! at two o'clock.
Ld More. Dear Charles!

Sir Cha. My wife is gone to invite her; when you see her first, be neither too humble, nor too stubborn; let her see, by the ease in your behaviour, you are still pleased in being near her, while she is upon reasonable terms with you. This will either open the door of an eclaircissement, or quite shut it against you-and if she is still resolved to keep you out

Ld More. Nay, if she insults me, then, perhaps, I may recover pride enough to rally her by an overacted submission.

Sir Cha. Why, you improve, my lord! this is the very thing I was going to propose to you. Ld More. Was it, faith! hark you, dare you stand by me?

Sir Cha. Dare I! ay, to my last drop of assu rance, against all the insolent airs of the proudest beauty in Christendom.

Ld More. Nay, then, defiance to her-We two -Thou hast inspired me-I find myself as valiant as a flattered coward.

Sir Cha. Courage, my lord; I'll warrant we beat her.

Lad More. My blood stirs at the very thought on't: I long to be engaged.

Sir Cha. She will certainly give ground, when she once sees you are thoroughly provoked. Ld More. Dear Charles, thou art a friend indeed!

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Sir, my lord Foppington gives his service, and, if your honour's at leisure, he'll wait on you as soon as he is dressed.

La More. Lord Foppington! Is he in town? Sir Cha. Yes; I heard last night he was come. Give my service to his lordship, and tell him I should be glad he will do me the honour of his company here at dinner. [Exit Servant.] We may have occasion for him in our design upon Lady Betty.

Ld More. What use can we make of him? Sir Cha. We'll see when he comes; at least, there is no danger in him; but I suppose you know he is your rival.

Ld More. Pshaw! a coxcomb.

Sir Cha. Nay, don't despise him neitherhe is able to give you advice; for, though he is in love with the same woman, yet, to him, she has not charms enough to give a minute's pain.

Ld More. Pr'ythee, what sense has be of love? Sir Cha. Faith, very near as much as a man of sense ought to have; I grant you he knows not how to value a woman truly deserving, but he has a pretty just esteem for most ladies about

town.

Ld More. That he follows, I grant you——for he seldom visits any of extraordinary reputation.

Sir Cha. Have a care! I have seen him at Lady Betty Modish's

Ld More. To be laughed at.

Sir Cha. Don't be too confident of that; the women now begin to laugh with him, not at him: for he really sometimes rallies his own humour with so much ease and pleasantry, that a great many women begin to think he has no follies at all, and those he has, have been as much owing to his youth, and a great estate, as want of natural wit: 'tis true, he often is a bubble to his pleasures, but he has always been wisely vain enough to keep himself from being too much the ladies' humble servant in love.

Ld More. There, indeed, I almost envy him. Sir Cha. The easiness of his opinion upon the sex, will go near to pique him-We must have him.

Ld More. As you please-but what shall we do with ourselves till dinner? Sir Cha. What think you of a party at piquet? Ld More. O! you are too hard for me. Sir Cha. Fie! fie! when you play with his grace?

Ld More. Upon my honour, he gives me three points.

Sir Cha. Does he? Why, then, you shall give me but two-Here, fellow, get cards. Allons! [Exeunt,

SCENE I-Lady BETTY MODISH's Lodgings. Enter Lady BETTY, and Lady EASY, meeting. Lady Bet. Oh, my dear! I am overjoyed to see you! I am strangely happy to-day! I have just received my new scarf from London, and you are most critically come to give me your opinion of it.

Lady Easy. Oh, your servant, madam; I am a very indifferent judge, you know. What, is it with sleeves?

Lady Bet. Ob, 'tis impossible to tell you what it is!'Tis all extravagance, both in mode and fancy, my dear. I believe there's six thousand yards of edging in it-Then, such an enchanting slope from the elbow-something so new, so lively, so noble, so coquette and charming but you shall see it, my dear

Lady Easy. Indeed, I won't, my dear; I am resolved to mortify you for being so wrongfully fond of a trifle.

Lady Bet. Nay, now, my dear, you are ill-natured.

Lady Easy. Why, truly, I'm half angry to see a woman of your sense so warmly concerned in the care of her outside; for, when we have taken

our best pains about it, 'tis the beauty of the mind alone that gives us lasting value. Lady Bet. Ah, my dear! my dear! you have been a married woman to a fine purpose, indeed, that know so little of the taste of mankind. Take my word, a new fashion upon a fine woman is of ten a greater proof of her value, than you are aware of.

Lady Easy. That I cann't comprehend; for you see among the men, nothing's more ridiculous than a new fashion. Those of the first sense are always the last that come into them.

Lady Bet. That is, because the only merit of a man is his sense; but, doubtless, the greatest value of a woman is her beauty. An homely woman, at the head of a fashion, would not be allowed in it by the men, and consequently not followed by the women; so that, to be successful in one's fancy, is an evident sign of one's being admired; and I always take admiration for the best proof of beauty, and beauty certainly is the source of power, as power, in all creatures, is the height of happiness.

Lady Easy. At this rate, you would rather be thought beautiful than good?

Lady Bet. As I had rather command, than obey the wisest homely woman can't make a

inan of sense of a fool; but the veriest fool of a beauty shall make an ass of a statesman; so that, in short, I can't see a woman of spirit has any business in this world but to dress--and make the men like her.

Lady Easy. Do you suppose this is a principle the men of sense will admire you for?

Lady Bet. I do suppose, that when I suffer any man to like my person, he sha'n't dare to find fault with my principle.

Lady Easy. But men of sense are not so easily humbled.

Lady Bet. The easiest of any; one has ten thousand times the trouble with a coxcomb.

Lady Easy. Nay, that may be; for I have seen you throw away more good humour, in hopes of a tendresse from my lord Foppington, who loves all women alike, than would have made my lord Morelove perfectly happy, who loves only you.

Lady Bet. The men of sense, my dear, make the best fools in the world: their sincerity and good breeding throws them so entirely into one's power, and gives one such an agreeable thirst of using them ill, to shew that power-'tis impossible not to quench it.

Lady Easy. But, methinks, my lord Morelove's manner to you might move any woman to a kinder sense of his merit.

Lady Bet. Ay, but would it not be hard, my dear, for a poor weak woman to have a man of his quality and reputation in her power, and not to let the world see him there? Would any creature sit new dressed all day in her closet? Could you bear to have a sweet-fancied suit, and never shew it at the play or the drawing-room?

Lady Easy. But one would not ride in it, methinks, or harass it out, when there's no occasion. Lady Bet. Pooh! my lord Morelove's a mere Indian damask; one cann't wear him out; o' my conscience, I must give him to my woman at last; I begin to be known by him: had not I best leave him off, my dear? for, poor soul, I believe I have a little fretted him of late.

Lady Easy. Now, 'tis to me amazing, how a man of his spirit can bear to be used like a dog for four or five years together-but nothing's a wonder in love; yet pray, when you found you could not like him at first, why did you ever encourage him?

Lady Bet. Why, what would you have one do? for my part, I could no more choose a man by my eye, than a shoe; one must draw them on a little, to see if they are right to one's foot.

Lady Easy. But I'd no more fool on with a man I could not like, than I'd wear a shoe that pinched me.

quality so long and honourably in love with you; for, now-a-days, one hardly ever hears of such a thing as a man of quality in love with the woman he would marry. To be in love, now, is only to have a design upon a woman, a modish way of declaring war against her virtue, which they generally attack first, by toasting up her vanity.

Lady Bet. Ay, but the world knows, that is not the case between my lord and me.

Lady Easy. Therefore, I think you happy. Lady Bet. Now, I don't see it; swear I'm better pleased to know there are a great many foolish fellows of quality that take occasion to toast me frequently.

Lady Easy. I vow I should not thank any gentleman for toasting me, and I have often wondered how a woman of your spirit could bear a great many other freedoms I have seen some men take with you.

Lady Bet. As how, my dear? Come, pr'ythee, be free with me, for, you must know, I love dearly to hear my faults-Who is't you have observed to be too free with me?

Lady Easy. Why, there's my lord Foppington; could any woman but you bear to see him with a respectful fleer stare full in her face, draw up his breath, and cry-Gad, you're handsome?

Lady Bet. My dear, fine fruit will have flies about it; but, poor things, they do it no harm: for, if you observe, people are generally most apt to choose that the flies have been busy with, ha, ha, ha!

Lady Easy. Thou art a strange giddy crcature!

Lady Bet. That may be from so much circulation of thought, my dear.

Lady Easy. But my lord Foppington's married, and one would not fool with him, for his lady's sake; it may make her uneasy, and

Lady Bet. Poor creature! Her pride, indeed, makes her carry it off without taking any notice of it to me; though I know she hates me in her heart, and I cannot endure malicious people; so I used to dine with her once a week, purely to give her disorder: if you had but seen when my lord and I fooled a little, the creature looked so ugly!

Lady Easy. But I should not think my reputation safe; my lord Foppington's a man that talks often of his amours, but seldom speaks of favours that are refused him.

Lady Bet. Ay, but then a poor wretch tells one, he'll widen them, or do any thing, and is so civil and silly, that one does not know how to turn such a trifle, as a pair of shoes, or an heart, upon a fellow's hands again.

love to hear a wretch curse himself for loving on, or now and then coming out with a

man.

Yet for the plague of human race,
This devil has an angel's face.

Lady Easy. At this rate, I don't see you allow reputation to be at all essential to a fine woman? Lady Bet. Just as much as honour to a great Power is always above scandal. Don't you hear people say the king of France owes most of his conquests to breaking his word, and would not the confederates have a fine time on't, if they were only to go to war with reproaches? Indeed, my dear, that jewel reputation is a very fanciful business! One shall not see a homely creature in town, but wears it in her mouth as monstrously as the Indians do bobs at their lips, and it really becomes them just alike.

Ludy Eusy. Have a care, my dear, of trusting too far to power alone: for nothing is more ridiculous than the fall of pride; and woman's pride, at best, may be suspected to be more a distrust, than a real contempt of mankind; for, when we have said all we can, a deserving husband is certainly our best happiness; and I don't question but my lord Morelove's merit, in a little time, will make you think so, too; for, whatever airs you give yourself to the world, I'm sure your heart don't want good nature.

Lady Bet. You are mistaken; I am very illnatured, though your good humour won't let you see it.

Lady Easy. Then, to give me a proof on't, let me see you refuse to go immediately and dine with me, after I have promised Sir Charles to bring you.

Lady Bet. Pray, don't ask me.
Lady Easy. Why?

Lady Bet. Because, to let you see I hate good nature, I'll go without asking, that you mayn't have the malice to say I did you a favour. Lady Easy. Thou art a mad creature. [Exeunt arm in arm.

Ld More. Oh! Pr'ythee, how does that go

on ?

Sir Cha. As agreeably as a Chancery suit; for now it comes to the intolerable plague of my not being able to get rid on't; as you may see[Giving the letter.

Ld More. [Reads.]-" Your behaviour, since I came to Windsor, has convinced me of your villainy, without my being surprised, or angry at it. I desire you would let me see you at my lodgings immediately, where I shall have a better opportunity to convince you, that I never can, or positively will, be as I have been.Yours," &c. A very whimsical letter! Faith, I think she has hard luck with you: if a man were obliged to have a mistress, her person and condition seem to be cut out for the ease of a lover: for she's a young, handsome, wild, well-jointured widow-But what's your quarrel?

Sir Cha. Nothing-She sees the coolness happens to be first on my side, and her business with me now, I suppose, is to convince me how heartily she's vexed that she was not before-hand with me.

Ld More. Her pride, and your indifference, must occasion a pleasant scene, sure; what do you intend to do?

Sir Cha. Treat her with a cold familiar air, till I pique her to forbid me her sight, and then take her at her word.

Ld More. Very gallant and provoking.
Enter a Servant.

Serv. Sir, my lord Foppington

[Exit Servant. Sir Cha. Oh-now, my lord, if you have a mind to be let into the mystery of making love without pain, here's one that's a master of the art, and shall declaim to you

Enter Lord FOPPINGTON.

My dear Lord Foppington!

humble servant.

Ld More. My lord, I kiss your hands—I hope we shall have you here some time; you seem to have laid in a stock of health to be in at the diversions of the place-You look extremely well.

Ld Fop. To see one's friends look so, my lord, may easily give a vermeille to one's complexion.

Sir Cha. Lovers in hope, my lord, always have a visible brilliant in their eyes and air.

Ld Fop. What dost thou mean, Charles? Sir Cha. Come, come, confess what really brought you to Windsor, now you have no business there?

Ld Fop. Why, two hours, and six of the best nags in Christendom, or the devil drive me! Ld More. You make haste, my lord.

Ld Fop. My lord, I always fly when I pursue -But they are all well kept, indeed-I love to have creatures go as I bid them. You have seen

them, Charles; but so has all the world: Foppington's long tails are known on every road in England.

Sir Cha. Well, my lord, but how came they to bring you this road? You don't use to take these irregular jaunts, without some design in your head, of having more than nothing to do.

Ld Fop. Pshaw! Pox! Pr'ythee, Charles, thou knowest I am a fellow sans consequence, be where I will.

Sir Chu. Nay, nay, this is too much among friends, my lord; come, come, we must have it; your real business here?

Ld Fop. Why, then, entre nous, there is a certain fille de joye about the court, here, that loves winning at cards better than all the things I have been able to say to her,- so I have brought an odd thousand bill in my pocket, that I design tête-à-tête, to play off with her at piquet, or so; and now the business is out.

Sir Cha. Ay, and a very good business, too, my lord.

Ld Fop. If it be well done, Charles

Sir Chu. That's as you manage your cards, my lord.

Ld More. This must be a woman of consequence, by the value you set upon her favours. Sir Cha. Oh, nothing's above the price of a fine woman.

Ld Fop. Nay, look you, gentlemen, the price may not happen to be altogether so high, neither For I fancy I know enough of the game to make it an even bet, I get her for nothing. Ld More. How so, my lord?

LA Fop. Because if she happen to lose a good sum to me, I shall buy her with her own money. LA More. That's new, I confess.

Ld Fop. You know, Charles, 'tis not impossible but I may be five hundred pounds deep with her-then, bills may fall short, and the devil's in't if I want assurance to ask her to pay some way or other.

Sir Cha. And a man must be a churl, indeed, that won't take a lady's personal security; ha, ha, ha!

Ld Fop. He, he, he! Thou art a devil, Charles! Ld More. Death! How happy is this coxcomb? [Aside. Ld Fop. But, to tell you the truth, gentlemen, I had another pressing temptation that brought me hither, which was-my wife.

Ld More. That's kind, indeed; my lady has been here this month: she'll be glad to see you. Ld Fop. That I don't know; for I design this afternoon to send her to London.

Ld More. What! the same day you come, my lord? that would be cruel.

Ld Fop. Ay, but it will be mighty convenient; for she is positively of no manner of use in my

amours.

Ld More. That's your fault; the town thinks her a very deserving woman.

Ld Fop. If she were a woman of the town, perhaps I should think so too; but she happens to be my wife, and, when a wife is once given to

deserve more than her husband's inclinations can pay, in my mind she has no merit at all.

Ld More. She's extremely well-bred, and of a very prudent conduct.

Ld Fop. Um-ay-the woman's proud enough.

Ld More. Add to this, all the world allows her handsome.

Ld Fop. The world's extremely civil, my lord; and I should take it as a favour done me, if they could find an expedient to unmarry the poor woman from the only man in the world that cannot think her handsome.

Ld More. I believe there are a great many in the world that are sorry 'tis not in their power to unmarry her.

Ld Fop. I am a great many in the world's very humble servant; and, whenever they find it is in their power, their high and mighty wisdoms may command me at a quarter of an hour's warning.

Ld More. Pray, my lord, what did you marry

for?

Ld Fop. To pay my debts at play, and disinherit my younger brother.

Ld More. But there are some things due to a wife.

Ld Fop. And there are some debts I don't care to pay -to both which I plead—husband,

and my lord.

Ld More. If I should do so, I should expect to have my own coach stopt in the street, and to meet my wife with the windows up in a hackney.

Ld Fop. Then would I put in bail, and order a separate maintenance.

Ld More. So, pay the double the sum of the debt, and be married for nothing.

Ld Fop. Now, I think deferring a dun, and getting rid of one's wife, are two of the most agreeable sweets in the liberties of an English subject.

Ld More. If I were married, I would as soon part from my estate as my wife.

Ld Fop. Now, I would not; sun-burn me if I would.

LA More. Death! but, since you are so indifferent, my lord, why would you needs marry a woman of so much merit? Could not you have laid out your spleen upon some ill-natured shrew, that wanted the plague of an ill husband, and have let her alone to some plain, honest man of quality, that would have deserved her?

Ld Fop. Why, faith, my lord, that might have been considered; but I really grew so passionately fond of her fortune, that, curse catch me, I was quite blind to the rest of her good qualities; for, to tell you the truth, if it had been possible the old put of a peer could have tossed me in t'other five thousand for them, by my consent, she should have relinquished her merit and virtues to any of her other sisters.

Sir Cha. Ay, ay, my lord; virtues in a wife are good for nothing but to make her proud, and put the world in mind of her husband's faults.

Ld Fop. Right, Charles: and strike me blind,