Jenny. Sure, papa, could you imagine, that women of quality wanted nothing but stays and petticoats ? Lady Wrong. Now, that is so like him!

Man. So the family comes on finely.

[Aside.

Lady Wrong. Lard, if men were always to govern, what dowdies they would reduce their wives to!

Sir Fran. An hundred pound in the morning, and want another afore night! Waunds and fire! the lord mayor of London could not hold at this rate! Man. Oh, do you feel it, sir?

[Aside. Lady Wrong. My dear, you seem uneasy; let me have the hundred pound, and compose yourself.

Sir Fran. Compose the devil, madam! why do you consider what a hundred pound a-day comes to in a year?

Lady Wrong. My life, if I account with you from one day to another, that's really all my head is able to bear at a time- -But I'll tell you what I consider

-I consider that my advice has got you a thousand pound a-year this morning-That, now, methinks, you might consider, sir.

Sir Fran. A thousand a-year? Waunds, madam, but I have not touched a penny of it yet!

Man. Nor ever will, I'll answer for him. [Aside.

Enter 'Squire RICHARD.

'Squ. Rich. Feyther, an you doan't come quickly, the meat will be coaled: and I'd fain pick a bit with you.

Lady Wrong. Bless me, Sir Francis! you are not · going to sup by yourself.

Sir Fran. No, but I'm going to dine by myself, and that's pretty near the matter, madam.

Lady Wrong. Had not you as good stay a little, my dear. We shall all eat in half an hour; and I was thinking to ask my cousin Manly to take a family morsel with us.

Sir Fran. Nay, for my cousin's good company, I don't care if I ride a day's journey without baiting. Man. By no means, Sir Francis. I am going upon a little business.

Sir Fran. Well, sir, I know you don't love compli

ments.

Man. You'll excuse me, madam

Lady Wrong. Since you have business, sir

Enter Mrs. MOTHERLY.

[Exit Manly.

Oh, Mrs. Motherly! you were saying this morning you had some very fine lace to shew me -cann't I see it now? [Sir Francis stares.

Moth. Why, really, madam, I had made a sort of a promise to let the Countess of Nicely have the first sight of it for the birth-day: but your ladyship—————— Lady Wrong. Oh, I die if I don't see it before her. 'Squ. Rich. Woan't you go, feyther? [Apart. Sir Fran. Waunds, lad! I shall ha' noa stomach at this rate. - [Apart. Moth. Well, madam, though I say it, 'tis the

sweetest pattern that ever came over-and for fineness no cobweb comes up to it.

Sir Fran. Ods guts and gizzard, madam! Lace as fine as a cobweb! why, what the devil's that to cost

now?

Moth. Nay, if Sir Francis does not like of it, madam

Lady Wrong. He like it! Dear Mrs. Motherly, he is not to wear it.

Sir Fran. Flesh, madam! but I suppose I am to pay for it.

Lady Wrong. No doubt on't! Think of your thousand a-year, and who got it you; go eat your dinner, and be thankful, go. [Driving him to the door.] Come, Mrs. Motherly.

[Exit Lady Wronghead with Mrs. Motherly. Sir Fran. Very fine! so here I mun fast, till I am almost famished, for the good of my country, while madam is laying me out an hundred pound a-day in lace as fine as a cobweb, for the honour of my family! Ods flesh things had need go well at this rate!

*Squ. Rich. Nay, nay

-come, feyther. [Exeunt Sir Fran. and 'Squ. Rich.

Enter Mrs. MOTHERLY.

Moth. Madam, my lady desires you and the count will please to come and assist her fancy in some of the new laces.

L

Count Bas. We'll wait upon her

[Exit Mrs. Motherly.

Jenny. So, I told you how it was! you see she cann't bear to leave us together.

Count Bas. No matter, my dear: you know she has ask'd me to stay supper: so when your papa and she are a-bed, Mrs. Myrtilla will let me into the house again; then you may steal into her chamber, and we'll have a pretty sneaker of punch together.

Myr. Ay, ay, madam, you may command me in any thing.

Jenny. Well, that will be pure !

Count Bas. But you had best go to her alone, my life: it will look better if I come after you.

Jenny. Ay, so it will: and to-morrow you know at the masquerade: And then!

"SONG.

“Oh, I'll have a husband! ay, marry;

"For why should I longer tarry,

"For why should I longer tarry,

"Than other brisk girls have done?

"For if I stay 'till I grow grey,

"They'll call me old maid, and fusty old jade;

"So I'll no longer tarry;

"But I'll have a husband, ay, marry,

"If money can buy me one.

My mother, she says, I'm too coming; " And still in my ears she is drumming, "And still in my ears she is drumming,

"That I such vain thoughts shou'd shun.
"My sisters they cry, oh, fy! and, oh, fy!
"But yet I can see, they're as coming as me;
"So let me have husbands in plenty:

"I'd rather have twenty times twenty,
"Than die an old maid undone."

[Exit.

Myr. So, sir, am not I very commode to you? Count Bas. Well, child, and don't you find your account in it? Did I not tell you we might still be of use to one another?

Myr. Well, but how stands your affair with miss in the main ?

It

Count Bas. Oh, she's mad for the masquerade! drives like a nail; we want nothing now but a parson to clinch it. Did not your aunt say she could get one at a short warning?

Myr. Yes, yes, my Lord Townly's chaplain is her cousin, you know; he'll do your business and mine, at the same time.

Count Bas. Oh, it's true! but where shall we appoint him?

Myr. Why, you know my Lady Townly's house is always open to the masks upon a ball-night, before they go to the Hay-market.

Count Bas. Good.

Myr. Now the doctor purposes we should all come thither in our habits, and when the rooms are full, we may steal up into his chamber, he says, and there