L. Easy. Why then, upon my word, my dear, I don't know that ever I wronged you that life. way in my Sir Cha. But suppose I had given a real cause to be jealous, how would you do then ? L. Easy. It must be a very substantial one that makes me jealous. Sir Cha. Say it were a substantial one; suppose now I were well with a woman of your own acquaintance, that, under pretence of frequent visits to you, should only come to carry on an affair with me-suppose now my Lady Graveairs and I were great? L. Easy. Would I could not suppose it. [Aside. Sir Cha. If I come off here I believe I am pretty safe. [Aside.]-Suppose, I say, my lady and I were so very familiar, that not only yourself, but half the town should see it? L. Easy. Then I should cry myself sick in some dark closet, and forget my tears when you spoke kindly to me. Sir Cha. The most convenient piece of virtue sure that ever wife was mistress of. [Aside. L. Easy. But pray, my dear, did you ever think that I had any ill thoughts of my Lady Graveairs? Sir Cha. O fie! child; only you know she and I used to be a little free sometimes, so I had a mind to see if you thought there was any harm in it; but since I find you very easy, I think myself obliged to tell you, that upon my soul, my dear, I have so little regard to her person, that the deuce take me, if I would not as soon have an affair with thy wo man. L. Easy. Indeed, my dear, I should as soon suspect you with one as t'other. Sir Cha. Poor dear-should'st thou-give me a kiss. L. Easy. Pshaw! you don't care to kiss me. Sir Cha. By my soul, I do I wish I may die, if I don't think you a very fine woman. L. Easy. I only wish you would think me a good wife. [Kisses her.] But pray, my dear, what has made you so strangely inquisitive ? Sir Cha. Inquisitive-Why-a-I don't know, one is always saying one foolish thing or another-Toll le roll. [Sings and talks.] My dear, what! are we never to have any ball here! Toll le roll. I fancy I could recover my dancing again, if I would but practise. Toll loll loll! L. Easy. This excess of carelessness to me excuses half his vices. If I can make him once think seriously-Time yet may be my friend. Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir, Lord Morelove gives his service- Serv. At the Chocolate-house; he called me to him as I went by, and bid me tell your honour he'll wait upon you presently. L. Easy. I thought you had not expected him here again this season, my dear. Sir Cha. I thought so too, but you see there's no depending upon the resolution of a man that's in love. L. Easy. Is there a chair? Serv. Yes, madam. [Exit Servant. L. Easy. I suppose Lady Betty Modish has drawn him hither. Sir Cha. Aye, poor soul, for all his bravery, I am afraid so. L. Easy. Well, my dear, I ha'nt time to ask my lord how he does now; you'll excuse me to him, but I hope you'll make him dine with us. Sir Cha. I'll ask him. If you see Lady Betty at prayers, make her dine too, but don't take any notice of my lord's being in town. L. Easy. Very well! if I should not meet her there, I'll call at her lodgings. Sir Cha. Do so. L. Easy. My dear, your servant. [Exit L. Easy. -Well! one way or other this woman will certainly bring about her business with me at last; for though she cannot make me happy in her own person, she lets me be so intolerably easy with the women that can, that she has at least brought me into a fair way of being as weary of them too. Enter Servant and Lord MORELOVE. Serv. Sir, my lord's come. L. Mor. Dear Charles! Sir Cha. My dear lord! this is an happiness undreamt of; I little thought to have seen you at Windsor again this season! I concluded, of course, that books and solitude had secured you 'till winter. L. Mor. 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 air Sir Cha. Ha! ha! hal L. Mor. 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! L. Mor. Thou art a very happy fellow-nothing touches thee-always easy-Then you conclude I fol. low 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 [Embracing. too. L. Mor. 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. Aye! aye!, 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. L. Mor. You are willing to give me hope; but I can'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. L. Mor. Do you suppose if I could grow indifferent, it would touch her? Sir Cha. Sting her to the heartmy advice? -Will you take L. Mor. 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 late quarrel with her. L. Mor. 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? L. Mor. 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} |