Enter EDGING. Edg. Here's a chair, madam. you L. Gra. 'Tis very well, Mrs. Edging: pray will Certainly, a woman happy under the do"But how came you [Aside. Exit. L. Gra. Well, that was the prettiest fancy about obedience, sure, that ever was. of condition must be infinitely minion of so generous a lover. "to forget kicking and whipping all this while? Me"thinks, you should not have left so fashionable an "article out of your scheme of government. "Sir Cha. Um-No, there is too much trouble "in that; though I have known them of admirable "use in reformation of some humoursome gentle"women." L. Gra. But one thing more, and I have donePray, what degree of spirit must the lady have, that is to make herself happy under so much freedom, order, and tranquillity? Sir Cha. Oh, she must at least have as much spirit as your ladyship, or she'd give me no pleasure in breaking it. L. Gra. No, that would be troublesome. You had better take one that's broken to your hand: there are such souls to be hired, I believe; things that will rub your temples in an evening, till you fall fast asleep in their laps; creatures, too, that think their wages their reward. I fancy, at last, that will be the best method for the lazy passion of a married man, that has out-lived his any other sense of gratification. Sir Cha. Look you, madam; I have loved you very well a great while; now you would have me love you better and longer, which is not in my power to do; and I don't think there is any plague upon earth, like a dun that comes for more money than one is ever likely to be able to pay. L. Gra. A dun! Do you take me for a dun, sir? Do I come a dunning to you? [Walks in a heat. Sir. Cha. Hist! don't expose yourself-here's company L. Gra. I care not- -A dun! You shall see, sir, I can revenge an affront, tho' I despise the wretch that offers it- A dun! Oh, I could die with laugh ing at the fancy! [Fxit. Sir Cha. So-she's in admirable order-Here comes my lord; and, I am afraid, in the very nick of his occasion for her. Enter Lord MORELOVE. L. Mor. Oh, Charles, undone again! all is lost and ruined. Sir Cha. What's the matter now? L. Mor. I have been playing the fool yonder, even to contempt; my senseless jealousy has confessed a weakness I never shall forgive myself. She has insulted on it to that degree too— -I can't bear the thought—Oh, Charles, this devil still is mistress of my heart! and I could dash my brains out to think how grossly too I have let her know it. Sir Cha. Ah, how it would tickle her if she saw you in this condition! ha, ha, ha! L. Mor. Pr'ythee don't torture me: think of some present ease, or I shall burst. Sir Cha. Well, well, let's hear, pray-What has she done to you? Ha, ha! L. Mor. Why, ever since I left you, she has treated me with so much coolness and ill nature, and that thing of a lord, with "so much laughing ease, such "an acquainted," such a spiteful familiarity, that, at the last, she saw, and triumphed in my uneasiness. Sir Cha. Well, and so you left the room in a pet? Ha! L. Mɔr. Oh, worse, worse still! for at last, with half shame and anger in my looks, I thrust myself between my lord and her, pressed her by the hand, and in a whisper, trembling, begged her, in pity of herself and me, to shew her good humour only where she knew it was truly valued: at which she broke from me with a cold smile, sat her down by the peer, whispered him, and burst into a loud laughter in my face. Sir Cha. Ha, ha! then would I have given fifty pounds to have seen your face. Why, what in the name of common sense had you to do with humility ? Will you never have enough on't? Death! 'twas setting a lighted match to gunpowder, to blow yourself up. L. Mor. I see my folly now, Charles. But what shall I do with the remains of life that she has left me? Sir Cha. Oh, throw it at her feet, by all means! put on your tragedy face, catch fast hold of her petticoat, whip out your handkerchief, and in point blank verse, desire her, one way or other, to make an end of the business. [In a whining tone. L. Mor. What a fool dost thou make me! Sir Cha. I only shew you as you came out of her hands, my lord. L. Mor. How contemptibly have I behaved myself? Sir Cha. That's according as you bear her behavi our. -What have L. Mor. Bear it! no-I thank thee, Charles; thou hast waked me now; and if I bear ityou done with my Lady Graveairs? Sir Cha. Your business, I believe―She's ready for you; she's just gone down stairs, and if you don't make haste after her, I expect her back again, with a knife or a pistol presently. L. Mor. I'll go this minute. Sir Cha. No, stay a little here comes my lord; we'll see what we can get out of him, first. "L. Mor. Methinks, now, I could laugh at her." Enter Lord FoPPINGTON. L. Fop. Nay, pr'ythee, Sir Charles, let's have a little of thee-We have been so chagrin without thee, that, stop my breath, the ladies are gone half asleep to church for want of thy company. Sir Cha. That's hard, indeed, while your lordship was among them. Is Lady Betty gone too? L. Fop. She was just upon the wing; but I caught her by the snuff-box, and she pretends to stay to see if I'll give it her again, or no. L. Mor. Death! 'tis that I gave her, and the only present she would ever receive from me— Ask him how he came by it. [Aside to Sir Charles. Sir Cha. Pr'ythee don't be uneasy——Did she give it you, my lord? L. Fop. Faith, Charles, I can't say she did, or she did not; but we were playing the fool, and I took it -à la-Pshaw! I can't tell thee in French neither; but Horace touches it to a nicety-'twas pignus direptum malè pertinaci. L. Mor. So-but I must bear it—If your lordship has a mind to the box, I'll stand by you in keeping of it. L. Fop. My lord, I am passionately obliged to you; but I am afraid I cannot answer your hazarding so much of the lady's favour. L. Mor. Not at all, my lord: 'tis possible I may not have the same regard to her frown that your lordship has. L. Fop. That's a bite, I am sure—he'd give a joint of his little finger to be as well with her as I am. [dside.] But here she comes- Charles, stand by |