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Lady G. Well, and upon ill luck, pray what words are you really forced to make use of ?

Lady T. Why, upon a very hard case, indeed, when a sad wrong word is rising just to one's tongue's end, I give a great gulph, and swallow it.

Lady G. Well-and is it not enough to make you foreswear play as long as you live?

Lady T. Oh, yes: I have foresworn it.
Lady G. Seriously?

Lady T. Solemnly, a thousand times; but then one is constantly foresworn.

Lady G. And how can you answer that?

Lady T. My dear, what we say when we are losers, we look upon to be no more binding than a lover's oath, or a great man's promise. But I beg pardon, child: I should not lead you so far into the world ; you are a prude, and design to live soberly.

Lady G. Why, I confess my nature and my education do in a good degree confine me that

way. Lady T. Well, how a woman of spirit (for you don't want that, child) can dream of living soberly, is to me inconceivable; for you will marry, I suppose.

Lady G. I can't tell but I may.
Lady T. And won't you live in town?
Lady G. Half the year, I should like it very well.

Lady T. My stars ! And you would really live in London half the year, to be sober in it! .

Lady G. Why not?

Lady T. Why can't you as well go and be sober in the country?

Lady G. So I would-tother half year.

Lady T. And pray, what comfortable scheme of life would you form now for your summer and winter sober entertainments?

Lady G. A scheme that I think might very well content us.

Lady T. Oh, of all things, let's hear it.

Lady G. Why, in summer I could pass my leisure hours in riding, in reading, walking by a canal, or sitting at the end of it under a great tree ; in dressing, dining, chatting with an agreeable friend; perhaps hearing a little music, taking a dish of tea, or a game at cards--soberly managing

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my family, looking into its accounts, playing with my chilJren, if I had any; or in a thousand other innocent amusements-soberly; and possibly, by these means, I might induce my husband to be as sober as myself.

Lady T. Well, my dear, thou art an astonishing creature ! For sure such primitive antedeluvian potions of life have not been in any head these thousand years. Under a great tree! ha! ha! ha!

-But I beg we may have the sober town scheme, too--for I am charmed with the country one.

Lady G. You shall, and I'll try to stick to my sobriety there too.

Lady T. Well, though I am sure it will give me the vapors, I must hear it.

Lady G. Why, then, for fear of your fainting, madam, I will first come so far into the fashion, that I would never be dressed out of it-but still it should be soberly ; for I can't think it any disgrace to a woman of my private fortune not to wear her lace as fine as the wedding suit of a first dutchess; though there is one extravagance I would venture to come up to.

Lady T. Ay, now for it
Lady G. I would every day be as clean as a bride.

Lady T. Wby, the men say that's a great step to be made one. Well, now you are drest, pray let's see to what purpose.

Lady G. I would visit- that is, my real friends ; but as little for forma as possible -I would go to court; sometimes to an assembly, nay, play at quadrille--soberly. I would see all the good plays; and, because 'tis the fashion, now and then go to an opera ; but not expire there--for fear I should never go again. And lastly, I can't say, but for curiosity, if I liked my company, I might be drawn in once to a masquerade ;--and this, I think, is as far as any woman can go-soberly.

Lady T. Well, if it had not been for that last piece of sobriety, I was just agoing to call for some surfeit water.

Lady G. Why, don't you think, with the further aid of breakfasting, dining, taking the air, supping, sleeping, (not to say a word of devotion) the four-and-twenty hours might roll over in a tolerable manner ?

Lady T. Tolerable ? Deplorable Why, child, all you propose is but to endure life; now, I want-to enjoy it.

Priuli. N Begone, and leave me.

III.- Priuli and Jaffier.--Venice PRESERVED.

O more, I'll hear no more ;

Jaff. Not bear me ? By my sufferings, but you shall ! My lord, my lord ! 1'ın not that abject wretch You think me. Patience! Where's the distance throws Me back so far, but I may boldly speak lo right, though proud oppression will not hear me?

Pri. Have you not wronged me?

Jaff. Could my nature e'er
Have brook'd injustice, or the doing wrong,
I need not now thus low have bent myself,
To gain a beariog from a crual father.
Wrongd you ?

Pri. Yes, wrong'd me. In the nicest point,
The honor of my house, you've done me wrong..
When you first came bome from travel,
With such hopes as made you look'd on,
By all men's eyes a youth of expectation,
Pleas'd with your seeming virtue, I receiv'd you;
Courted and sought to raise you to your merits !
My house, my table, nay, my fortune, too,
My very self was yours; you might have used me
To your best service; like an open friend
I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine :
When, in requital of my best endeavors,
You treacherously practis'd to undo me;
Seduc'd the weakness of my age's darling,
My only child, and stole her from my bosom.

Jaff. 'Tis to me you owe ber;
Childless you had been else, and in the grave
Your name extinct; no more Priuli heard of.
You may remember, scarce five years are past,
Since, in your brigantine, you sail'd to see
The Adriatic wedded by our duke;
And I was with you.

Your unskilful pilot
Dash'd us upon a rock; when to your boat
You made for safety ; entered first yourself;

Th'affrighted Belvidera, following next,
As she stood trembling on the vessel's side,
Was by a wave wash'd off into the deep;
When, instantly, I plunged into the sea,
And, buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine;
Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
And with the other dash'd the saucy waves,
That throug’d and pressid to roh me of my prize.
I brought her; gave her to your despairing arms;
Indeed, you thank'd me; but a nobler gratitude
Rose in her soul; for, from that hour, she lov'd me,
"Till, for her life, she paid me with herself.

Pri. You stole her from me ; like a thief, you stole her
At the dead of vight; that cursed hour you chose
To rifle me of all my heart held dear.
May all your joys in her prove false as mine;
A sterile fortune and a barren bed
Attend you both; continual discord make
Your days and nights bitter and grievous still:
May the hard hand of a vexatious need
Oppress and grind you; till, at last, you fiad
The curse of disobedience all your portion.

Jaff. Half of your curse you have bestowed in yain : Heaven has already crown'd our faithful loves With a young boy, sweet as his mother's beauty. May he live to prove more gentle than his grand sire, Apd happier than his father.

Pri. No more.

Jaff. Yes, all; and then-adier forever.
There's not a wretch that lives on common charity
But's happier than 1: for I have known
The luscious sweets of plenty ; every night
Have slept with soft content about my head,
And never wak'd but to a joyful morning ;
Yet now must fall; like a full ear of corn,
Whose blossom ’scap?d, yet's wither'd in the ripening.

Pri. Home and be humble, study to retrench;
Discharge the lazy vermin of thy hall,
Those pageants of thy folly ;
Reduce the glitt'ring trappings of thy wife,
To humble weeds, fit for thy little state :

Then to some suburb cottage both retire:
Drudge to feed loathsome life.
Home, home, I say.

(Exit.
Jaff. Yes, if my heart would let me
This proud, this swelling heart-home would I go,
But that my doors are hateful to my eyes,
Fill'd and damm'd up with gaping creditors.
I've now not fifty ducats in the world;
Yet still I am in love, and pleas'd with ruin.
Oh, Belvidera! Oh! she is my wife-
And we will bear our wayward fate together-
But ne'er know comfort more.

IV.--Boniface and Aimwell.-BEAUX STRATAGEM.

T

way, this

Bon. HIS

way,

Sir.
Aim. You're my landlord, I suppose.

Bon. Yes, Sir, I'm old Will Boniface'; pretty well known upon this road, as the saying is.

Aiin. O, Mr. Boniface, your servant.

Bon. O, Sir,What will your honor please to drink, as the saying is?

Aim. I have heard your town of Litchfield much famed for ale; I think I'll taste that.

Bon. Sir, I have now in my cellar ten tun of the best ale in Staffordshire; 'tis smooth as oil, sweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy; and will be just fourteen years old the fifth day of next March old style. Aim. You're very exact, I find, in the age of

your

ale. Bon. As punctual, Sir, as I am in the age

of
my

chil dren :-I'll shew you such ale !-Here, tapster, broach, number 1706, as the saying is.—Sir, you shall taste my anno domini.--I have lived in Litchfield, man and boy, above eight and fifty years, and I believe, bare not consumed eight and fifty ounces of meat.

Aim. At a meal, you mean, if one may guess by your bulk.

Bon. Not in my life, Sir: I have fed purely upon ale : I bave eat my ale, drank my ale, and I always sleep upon ale. (Enter tapster, with a tankard.] Now, Sir, you shall see- -Your worship’s health! (drinks)-Ha !--deli

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