L. Mor. Perfectly, and me to myself

For now

I almost blush to think I ever was uneasy at him. [To L. Easy.

L. Fop. Lady Easy, I ask ten thousand pardons, I'm afraid I am rude all this while.

L. Easy. Oh, not at all, my lord, you are always good company, when you please: not but in some things, indeed, you are apt to be like other fine gentlemen, a little too loose in your principles.

L. Fop. Oh, madam, never to the offence of the ladies; I agree in any community with them; nobody is a more constant churchman, when the fine women are there.

L. Easy. Oh fye, my lord, you ought not to go for their sakes at all. And I wonder, you that are for being such a good husband of your virtues, are not afraid of bringing your prudence into a lampoon or a play.

L. Betty. Lampoons and plays, madam, are only things to be laughed at.

L. Fop. Odso! ladies, the court's coming home, I see; shall not we make our bows ?

L. Betty. Oh, by all means.

L. Easy. Lady Betty, I must leave you: for I am obliged to write letters, and I know you won't give me time after supper.

L. Betty. Well, my dear, I'll make a short visit and be with you. [Exit Lady Easy.] Pray what's become of my Lady Graveairs?

L. Mor. Oh, I believe she's gone home, madam, she seemed not to be very well.

L. Fop. And where's Sir Charles, my lord?
L. Mor. I left him at his own lodgings.

L. Betty. He's upon some ramble, I'm afraid.

L. Fop. Nay, as for that matter, a man may ram. ble at home sometimes-But here come the chaises, we must make a little more haste, madam. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Changes to Sir CHARLES's Lodgings.

EASY and a Servant.

L. Easy. Is your master come home?

Serv. Yes, madam.

L. Easy. Where is he?

Enter Lady

Serv. I believe, madam, he's laid down to sleep. L. Easy. Where's Edging? Bid her get me some wax and paper-stay, it's no matter, now I think on it-there's some above upon my toilette.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE V.

Opens and discovers Sir CHARLES without his Periwig, and EDGING by him, both asleep in two easy Chairs. Then enter Lady EASY, who starts and trembles, some time unable to speak.

L. Easy. Hal protect me, virtue, patience, reason! Teach me to bear this killing sight, or let

Me think my dreaming senses are deceiv'd!
For sure a sight like this might raise the arm
Of duty ev'n to the breast of love! At least
I'll throw this vizor of my patience off:
Now wake him in his guilt,

And barefac'd front him with my wrongs.
I'll talk to him till he blushes, nay, till he-
Frowns on me, perhaps-and then

I'm lost again-The ease of a few tears
Is all that's left to me→→→→→

And duty too forbids me to insult,

When I have vow'd obedience-Perhaps

The fault's in me, and nature has not form'd

Me with the thousand little requisites

That warm the heart to love

Somewhere there is a fault

But Heav'n best knows what both of us deserve:

Ha! bare headed, and in so sound a sleep!
Who knows, while thus expos'd to th' unwholesome air,
But Heav'n offended may o'ertake his crime,
And, in some languishing distemper, leave him
A severe example of its violated laws-

Forbid it mercy, and forbid it love.

This may prevent it.

[Takes a Steinkirk off her neck, and lays it gently on his head.

And if he should wake offended at my too busy care, let my heart-breaking patience, duty, and my fond affection plead my pardon.

[Exit. [After she has been out some time, a bell rings; Edging wakes and stirs Sir Charles.

Edg. Oh!

Sir Cha. How now! what's the matter?

Edg. Oh, bless my soul, my lady's come home. Sir Cha. Go, go then. [Bell rings.

Edg. Oh, lud! my head's in such a condition too. [Runs to the glass.] I am coming, madam-Oh, lud! here's no powder neither-Here, madam. [Exit. Sir Cha. How now? [Feeling the Steinkirk upon his head.] What's this? How came it here? [Puts on his wig.] Did not I see my wife wear this to-day?"Death! she cann't have been here, sure-It could "not be jealousy that brought her home-for my "coming was accidental-so too, I fear, was hers"How careless have I been ?--not to secure the door "neither 'Twas foolish-It must be so! She cer"tainly has seen me here sleeping with her woman : "if so, how low an hypocrite to her must that sight "have proved me? The thought has made me "despicable ev'n to myself-How mean a vice is “lying, and how often have these empty pleasures " lulled my honour and my conscience to lethargy, "while I grossly have abused her, poorly skulking "behind a thousand falsehoods-Now I reflect, this "has not been the first of her discoveries"-How contemptible a figure must I have made to her?A crowd of recollected circumstances confirms me now, she has been long acquainted with my follies, and yet with what amazing prudence has she borne the secret pangs of injured love, and wore an everLasting smile to me? This asks a little thinking

something should be done-I'll see her instantly, be resolved from her behaviour.

and

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Changes to another Room.

Enter Lady EASY and

EDGING.

L. Easy. Where have you been, Edging ?

Edg. Been, madam! I—I—I—I came as soon as I heard you ring, madam.

L. Easy. How guilt confounds her! but she's be low my thought-Fetch my last new sack hither-I have a mind to alter it a little-make haste.

Edg. Yes, madam

any thing.

-I see she does not suspect

[Exit. L. Easy. Heigh ho! [Sitting down.] I had forgot→ but I'm unfit for writing now—'Twas an hard con flict-yet it's a joy to think it over a secret pride, to tell my heart my conduct has been just-How low are vicious minds that offer injuries, how much superior innocence that bears 'em. Still there's a pleasure ev❜n in the melancholy of a quiet conscience -Away, my fears, it is not yet impossible-for while his human nature is not quite shook off, I ought not to despair.

Re-enter EDGING, with a Sack.

Edg. Here's the sack, madam.