languishing, that adoration, which once was paid | you yourself, in open hours of love, have told me, and everlastingly engaged ? Mask. Fixed, rooted in my heart, whence nothing can remove them; yet you Lady Touch. Yet, what yet ? Mask. Nay, misconceive me not, madam, when I say I have had a generous and faithful passion, which you had never favoured but through revenge and policy. Lady Touch. Ha! Hask. Look you, madam, we are alone, Pray contain yourself, and hear me. You know you loved your nephew, when I first sighed for you; I quickly found it; an argument that I loved: for with that art you veiled your passion, 'twas imperceptible to all but jealous eyes. This discovery made me bold, I confess it; for, by it, I thought you in my power. Your nephew's scorn of you added to my hopes; I watched the occasion, and took you, just repulsed by him, warm at once with love and indignation; your disposition, my arguments, and happy opportunity, accomplished my design; I prest the yielding minute, and was blest. How I have loved you since, words have not shewn; then, how should words express ? Lady Touch. Well, mollifying devil!--And have I not met your love? Mask. Your zeal, I grant, was ardent, but misplaced; there was revenge in view; that woman's idol had defiled the temple of the god, and love was made a mock-worship—A son and heir would have edged young Mellefont upon the brink of ruin, and left him none but you to catch at for prevention. Lady Touch. Again provoke me! Do you wind me like a larum, only to rouse my stilled soul for your diversion? Confusion ! Mask. Nay, madam, I am gone, if you relapse SCENE I. | me. Why should you deny it? Nay, how can you? Is not all this present heat owing to the same fire? Do you not love him still? How have I this day offended you, but in not breaking off his match with Cynthia ? which, ere to-morrow, shall be done -had you but patience. Lady Touch. How ! what said you, Maşkwell? Another caprice to unwind my temper? Mask. By Heaven, no! I am your slave, the slave of all your pleasures; and will not rest till have given you peace, would you suffer me. I Lady Touch. Oh, Maskwell! in vain do I disguise me from thee: thou knowest me, knowest my soulmarried to-morrow ! Despair strikes me! Yet my soul knows I hate him, too: let him but once be mine- Mask. Compose yourself, you shall possess and ruin him, too- -Will that please you? Lady Touch. How, how ? thou dear, thou precious villain, how ? Mask. You have already been tampering with my Lady Plyant. Lady Touch. I have; she is ready for any impression I think fit. Mask. She must be thoroughly persuaded that Mellefont loves her. Lady Touch. She is so credulous that way naturally, and likes him so well, that she will believe it faster than I can persuade her. But I don't see what you can propose from such a trifling design; for her first conversing with Mellefont will convince her of the contrary. Mask. I know it-I don't depend upon itBut it will prepare something else; and gain us leisure to lay a stronger plot-If I gain a little time, I shall not want contrivance. One minute gives invention to destroy, ACT II. Enter Lady FROTH and CYNTHIA. Cyn. INDEED, madam! Is it possible your ladyship could have been so much in love? Lady Froth. I could not sleep; I did not sleep one wink for three weeks together. Cyn. Prodigious! I wonder want of sleep, and so much love, and so much wit as your ladyship has, did not turn your brain. Lady Froth. O my dear Cynthia, you must not rally your friend-but really, as you say, I wonder, too--but then I had a way. For, between you and I, I had whimsies and vapours-but I gave them vent. Cyn. How, pray, madam? Lady Froth. O, I writ, writ abundantlyDo you never write? | Cyn. Write, what? Lady Froth. Songs, elegies, satires, encomiums, panegyrics, lampoons, plays, or heroic poems. Cyn. O lord, not I, madam; I am content to be a courteous reader. bless Lady Froth. O inconsistent ! in love, and not write! If my lord and I had been both of your temper, we had never come together me! what a sad thing would that have been, if my lord and I should never have met ! Cyn. Then, neither my lord nor you would ever have met with your match, on my conscience. Lady Froth. O' my conscience no more we should; thou say'st right-for sure my Lord Froth is as fine a gentleman, and as much a man of quality! Ah! nothing at all of the common air I think I may say he wants nothing but a blue ribband and a star, to make him shine the | very phosphorus of our hemisphere. Do you understand those two hard words? If you don't, I'll explain them to you. Cyn. Yes, yes, madam, I am not so ignorantAt least I won't own it, to be troubled with your instructions. [Aside. Lady Froth. Nay, I beg your pardon; but being derived from the Greek, I thought you might have escaped the etymology-But I am the more amazed, to find you a woman of letters, and not write! Bless me! how can Mellefont believe you love him? Cyn. Why, faith, madam, he, that won't take my word, shall never have it under my hand, Lady Froth. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but methinks he wants a manner. Cyn. A manner! What's that, madam? Lady Froth. Some distinguishing quality; as, for example, the bel air or brillant of Mr Brisk; the solemnity, yet complaisance of my lord; or something of his own that should look a little je ne sçai quoi; he is too much a mediocrity, in my mind. Cyn. He does not indeed affect either pertness or formality, for which I like him-Here he comes. Enter Lord FROTH, MELLEFONT, and BRISK. Impertinent creature! I could almost be angry with her now. [Aside. Lady Froth. My lord, I have been telling Cynthia how much I have been in love with you; I swear I have; I'm not ashamed to own it now. Ah! it makes my heart leap; I vow I sigh when I think on't :-My dear lord! ha, ha, ha, do you remember, my lord? [Squeezes him by the hand, looks kindly on him, sighs, and then laughs out.] Lord Froth. Pleasant creature! Perfectly well. Ah! that look! Ay, there it is; who could resist!- -Twas so my heart was made a captive at first, and ever since it has been in love with happy slavery. Lady Froth. O that tongue, that dear deceitful tongue! that charming softness in your mien and your expression! and then your bow! Good, my lord, bow as you did when I gave you my picture; here, suppose this my picture-Gives him a pocket glass.]-Pray mind, my lord; ah! he bows charmingly. Nay, my lord, you shan't kiss it so much; I shall grow jealous, I vow now. [He bows profoundly low, then kisses the glass.] Lord Froth. I saw myself there, and kissed it for your sake. Lady Froth. Ah! gallantry to the last degree -Mr Brisk, you are a judge; was ever any thing so well bred as my lord? Brisk. Never any thing but your ladyship, let me perish. Lady Froth. O prettily turned again; let me die but you have a great deal of wit-Mr. Mellefont, don't you think Mr Brisk has a world of wit? Mel. O yes, madam. Lady Froth. An infinite deal! Lady Froth. More wit than any body. Brisk. I am everlastingly your humble servant, deuce take me, madam. Lord Froth. Don't you think us a happy couple? Cyn. I vow, my lord, I think you the happiest couple in the world. Lord Froth. I hope Mellefont will make a good husband, too. Cyn. 'Tis my interest to believe he will, my lord. Lord Froth. D'ye think he'll love you as well as I do my wife? I am afraid not. Cyn. I believe he'll love me better. Lord Froth. Heavens! that can never be; but why do you think so? Cyn. Because he has not so much reason to be fond of himself. Lord Froth. O your humble servant for that, dear madam. Well, Mellefont, you'll be a happy creature. Mel. Ay, my lord, I shall have the same reason for my happiness that your lordship has; I shall think myself happy. Lord Froth. Ah, that's all. Brisk. [To Lady FROTH.] Your ladyship is in the right; but, 'egad, I'm wholly turned into satire. I confess I write but seldom, but when I do--keen Iambics, 'egad. But my lord was telling me, your ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem. Lady Froth. Did my lord tell you? Yes, I vow, and the subject is my lord's love to me. And what do you think I call it? I dare swear yon won't guess-The Syllabub! ha, ha, ha! Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, 'egad; ha, ha, ha, ha! deuce take me, very à propos, and તે surprizing, ha, ha, ha! Lady Froth. He, he! ay, is not it?—And then I call my lord Spumosa; and myself—what do ye think I call myself? Brisk. Lactilla, may be 'Egad I cannot tell. Lady Froth. Biddy, that's all; just my own name. Brisk. Biddy! 'Egad very pretty-Deuce take me, if your ladyship has not the art of surprizing the most naturally in the world-I hope you'll make me happy in communicating the poem. Lady Froth. O, you must be my confident; I must ask your advice. Brisk. I'm your humble servant, let me perish -I presume your ladyship has read Bossu? Lady Froth. O yes, and Rapine, and Dacier upon Aristotle and Horace.-My lord, you must not be jealous! I'm communicating all to Mr Brisk. my dear? Lord Froth. No, no, I'll allow Mr Brisk; | why, how now, who are you? What am I? Slicome, have you nothing about you to shew him, dikins, can't I govern you? What did I marry you for? Am I not absolute and uncontroulable? Is it fit a woman of my spirit and conduct should be contradicted in a matter of this coucern? Lady Froth. Yes, I believe I have. Mr Brisk, will you go into the next room, and there I'll shew you what I have. come to you. [Exeunt LADY FROTH and BRISK. Lord Froth. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and [Erit LORD FROTH. Mel. You are thoughtful, Cynthia. Cyn. I am thinking, though marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves them still two fools; and they become more conspicuous by setting off one another. Mel. That's only, when two fools meet, and their follies are opposed. Cyn. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and, by the opposition of their wit, render themselves as ridiculous as fools. 'Tis an odd game we are going to play at; what think you of drawing stakes, and giving over in time? Mel. No, hang it, that's not endeavouring to win, because it is possible we may lose; since we have shuffled and cut, let us e'en turn up trump now. Cyn. Then, I find it is like cards; if either of us have a good hand, it is an accident of fortune. Mel. No, marriage is rather like a game at bowls fortune indeed makes the match, and the two nearest, and sometimes the two farthest are together, but the game depends entirely upon judgment. Cyn. Still it is a game, and consequently one of us must be a loser. Mel. Not at all; only a friendly trial of skill, and the winnings to be laid out in an entertain ment. Enter SIR PAUL PLYANT and LADY PLYANT. Sir Paul, Gads bud! I am provoked into a fermentation, as my lady Froth says; was ever the like read of in story? Lady Ply. Sir Paul, have patience; let me alone to rattle him up. Sir Paul. Pray your ladyship give me leave to be angry-I'll rattle him up, I warrant you, I'll firk him with a certiorari. Lady Ply. You firk him! I'll firk him myself. Pray, sir Paul, hold you contented. Cyn. Bless me, what makes my father in such a passion!-I never saw him thus before. Sir Paul. It concerns me, and only me :-Besides, I am not to be governed at all times. When I am in tranquillity, my lady Plyant shall command sir Paul; but, when I am provoked to fury, I cannot incorporate with patience and reason ;—as soon may tigers match with tigers, lambs with lambs, and every creature couple with its foe, as the poet says.— Lady Pay, He's hot-headed still! 'tis in vain to talk to you; but, remember, I have a curtainlecture for you, you disobedient, headstrong brute. Sir Paul. No, 'tis because I won't be headstrong, because I won't be a brute, and have my head fortified, that I am thus exasperated.-But I will protect my honour, and yonder is the violator of my fame. Lady Ply. Tis my honour that is concerned, and the violation was intended to me.-Your honour! you have none but what is in my keeping, and I can dispose of it when I please-therefore, don't provoke me. Sir Paul. Hum! gads-bud, she says true--Well, my lady, march on, I will fight under you, then; I am convinced as far as passion will permit. [LADY PLYANT and SIR PAUL come up to MELLEFONT. Lady Ply. Inhuman and treacherous Sir Paul. Thou serpent, and first tempter of womankind Cyn. Bless me, sir! Madam, what mean you? Sir Paul. Thy, Thy, come away, Thy, touch him not; come hither, girl; go not near him; there is nothing but deceit about him; snakes are in his peruke, and the crocodile of Nilus is in his belly; he will eat thee up alive. Lady Ply. Dishonourable, impudent creature! Mel. For Heaven's sake, madan, to whom do you direct this language? Lady Ply. Have I behaved myself with all the decorum and nicety, befitting the person of sir Paul's wife? Have I preserved my honour, as it were, in a snow-house for these three years past? Have I been white and unsullied even by sir Paul himself? Sir Paul. Nay, she has been an invincible wife, even to me, that's the truth on't. Sir Paul. Hold yourself contented, my lady Lady Ply. Have I, I say, preserved myself Plyant-I find passion coming upon me by infla-like a fair sheet of paper, for you to make a blot tion, and I cannot submit as formerly; therefore, give way. Lady Ply. How now! will you be pleased to retire, and Sir Paul. No, marry, will I not be pleased; I am pleased to be angry, that is my pleasure at this time. upon? Sir Paul. And she shall make a simile with any woman in England. Mel. I am so amazed, I know not what to say. Sir Paul, Do you think my daughter, this pretty creature-gads-bud, she's a wife for a cherubin! Do you think her fit for nothing but to be Mel. What can this mean? a stalking horse, to stand before you, while you Ludy Ply. Gads my life, the man's distracted! | take aim at my wife? Gadsbud, I was never an gry before in my life, and I'll never be appeased again. Mel. Hell and damnation! this is my aunt; such malice can be engendered no where else. [Aside. Lady Ply. Sir Paul, take Cynthia from his sight; leave me to strike him with the remorse of his intended crime. Cyn. Pray, sir, stay! hear him; I dare affirm he's innocent. Sir Paul. Innocent! Why, hark'ee, come hither, Thy; hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my sister Touchwood-Gads-bud, he does not care a farthing for any thing of thee, but thy portion; why, he's in love with my wife; he would have tantalized thee, and made a cuckold of thy poor fa- | ther; and that would certainly have broke my heart-I am sure, if ever I should have horns, they would kill me; they would never come kindly; I should die of them, like a child that was cutting his teeth-I should, indeed, Thytherefore, come away; but Providence has prevented all; therefore, come away when I bid you. Cyn. I must obey. what would you have to answer for, if you should provoke me to frailty? Alas! humanity is feeble, Heaven knows! very feeble, and unable to sup→ port itself. Mel. Where am I? Is it day? and am I awake? Madam— Lady Ply. And nobody knows how circumstances may happen together;-to my thinking, now, I could resist the strongest temptation— but, yet, I know, 'tis impossible for me to know whether I could or not; there's no certainty in the things of this life. Mel. Madam, pray give me leave to ask you one question. Lady Ply. O lord, ask me the question! I'll swear I'll refuse it; I'll swear I'll deny it, therefore don't ask me; nay, you shan't ask me; I swear I'll deny it. O gemini, you have brought all the blood into my face; I warrant I am as red as a turky-cock; O 'fye! cousin Mellefont. Mel. Nay, madam, hear me; I meanLady Ply. Hear you? no, no; I'll deny you first, and hear you afterwards. For one does not know how one's mind may change upon hearing. [Exeunt SIR PAUL and CYNTHIA.-Hearing is one of the senses, and all the senses Lady Ply. Oh, such a thing! the impiety of are fallible; I won't trust my honour, I assure it startles me to wrong so good, so fair a crea- you; my honour is infallible and uncomatible. ture, and one that loves you tenderly 'Tis a Mel. For Heaven's sake, madambarbarity of barbarities, and nothing could be Lady Ply. O name it no more-Bless me, how guilty of it can you talk of Heaven, and have so much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't think it a sin!-they say, some of you gentlemen don't think it a sin!-may be it is no sin to them that don't think it so; indeed, if I did not think it a sin! but still my honour, if it were no sin !—but then to marry my daughter for the conveniency of frequent opportunities—I'll never consent to that; as sure as can be I'll break the match. Mel. But the greatest villain imagination can form, I grant it; and next to the villainy of such fact, is the villainy of aspersing me with the guilt. How? Which way was I to wrong her? For yet I understand you not. Lady Ply. Why, gads my life, cousin Mellefont, you cannot be so peremptory as to deny it, when I tax you with it to your face; for, now sir Paul is gone, you are corum nobus. or Mel. By Heaven, I love her more than life, Lady Ply. Fiddle, faddle, don't tell me of this and that, and every thing in the world, but give me mathemacular demonstration-answer me directly-But I have not patience-Oh! the impiety of it, as I was saying, and the unparalleled wickedness! O merciful father! How could you think to reverse nature so, to make the daughter the means of procuring the mother? Mel. The daughter to procure the mother! Lady Ply. Ay, for though I am not Cynthia's own mother, I am her father's wife, and that's near enough to make it incest. Mel. Incest! O! my precious aunt, and the devil in conjunction! [Aside. Lady Ply. O reflect upon the horror of that, and then the guilt of deceiving every body; marrying the daughter, only to make a cuckold of the father; and then seducing me, debauching my purity, and perverting me from the road of virtue, in which I have trod thus long, and never made one trip, not one faur pas; O consider it Mel. Death and amazement!-Madam, upon my knces Lady Ply. Nay, nay, rise up; come, you shall see my good-nature. I know love is powerful, and nobody can help his passion: 'tis not your fault, nor, I swear, it is not mine !—How can I help it, if I have charms? And how can you help it, if you are made a captive? I swear it is pity it should be a fault-but my honour—well, but your honour too-but the sin!-well, but the necessity-O lord, here's somebody coming, I dare not stay.-Well, you must consider of your crime, and strive as much as can be against itstrive, be sure-but don't be melancholic, don't despair-but never think that I'll grant you any think; O lord, no;-but be sure you lay aside all thoughts of the marriage; for though I know you don't love Cynthia, only as a blind for your passion to me, yet it will make me jealous O Lord, what did I say? Jealous! no, no, I can't be jealous, for I must not love you--therefore, don't hope-but don't despair neither-O, they're coming, I must fly. [Exit. Mel. [after a pause.] So then-spite of my care and foresight, I am caught, caught in my ed to have been long secretly in love with Cynsecurity. Yet this was but a shallow artifice, un-thia; that did my business; that convinced your worthy of my Machiavelian aunt. There must be more behind; this is but the first flash, the priming of her engine; destruction follows hard, if not most presently prevented. Enter MASKWell. Maskwell, welcome! Thy presence is a view of land, appearing to my shipwrecked hopes; the witch has raised the storm, and her ministers have done their work; you see the vessels are parted. Mask. I know it; I met sir Paul towing away Cynthia. Come, trouble not your head; I'll join you together to-morrow morning, or drown between you in the attempt. Mel. There is comfort in a hand stretched out to one that is sinking, though never so far off. Mask. No sinking, nor no danger-Come, cheer up; why, you do not know, that while Í plead for you, your aunt has given me a retaining fee;-nay, I am your greatest enemy, and she does but journey-work under me. Mel. Ha! how is this? aunt I might be trusted; since it was as much my interest as her's to break the match: then she thought my jealousy might qualify me to assist her in her revenge. And, in short, in that belief told me the secrets of her heart. At length, we made this agreement; if I accomplish her designs (as I told you before), she has engaged to put Cynthia, with all her fortune, into my power. Mel. She is most gracious in her favour.-Well, and dear Jack, how hast thou contrived? Mask. I would not have you stay to hear it now: for I don't know but she may come this way; I am to meet her anon; after that, I will tell you the whole matter: be here, in this gallery, an hour hence; by that time, I imagine, our consultation may be over. Mel. I will; till then, success attend thee! [Exit. Mask. Till then, success will attend me; for when I meet you, I meet the only obstacle to my fortune. Cynthia, let thy beauty gild my crimes; and whatsoever I commit of treachery or deceit shall be imputed to me as a merit. TreachMask. What do ye think of my being employ-ery! What treachery? Love cancels all the bonds ed in the execution of all her plots? Ha, ha, ha! by Heaven, it is true; I have undertaken to break the match; I have undertaken to make your uncle disinherit you, to get you turned out of doors, and to-ha, ha, ha! I can't tell you for laughing-Oh! she has opened her heart to me- -I am to turn you a grazing, and toha, ha, ha!—marry Cynthia myself: There's a plot for you! of friendship, and sets men right upon their first foundations. Duty to kings, piety to parents, gratitude to benefactors, and fidelity to friendsare different and particular ties; but the name of rival cuts them all asunder, and is a general acquittance-Rival is equal; and love, like death, an universal leveller of mankind. Ha! but is there not such a thing as honesty? Yes, and whosoever has it about him, bears an enemy in his breast: for your honest man, as I take it, is that nice, scrupulous, conscientious person, who will cheat nobody but himself; such another coxcomb as your wise man, who is too hard for all the world, and will be made a fool of by nobody but himself. Ha, ha, ha! well, for wisdom and Mel. Ha! O see, I see my rising sun! light breaks through clouds upon me, and I shall live in day--O my Maskwell! how shall I thank or praise thee! thou hast outwitted woman.But tell me, how couldst thou thus get into her confidence? Ha! how? But was it her contrivance to persuade my lady Plyant into this extra-honesty, give me cunning and hypocrisy. Oh, it vagant belief? Mask. It was; and, to tell you the truth, I encouraged it for your diversion: though it make you a little uneasy for the present, yet the reflection of it must needs be entertaining-I warrant she was very violent at first. Mel. Ha, ha, ha! ay, a very fury; but I was most afraid of her violence at last. If you had not come as you did, I do not know what she might have attempted. Mask. Ha, ha, ha! I know her temper.Well, you must know, then, that all my contrivances were but bubbles; till, at last, I pretend is such a pleasure to angle for fair-faced fools! Then, that hungry gudgeon, Credulity, will bite at any thing-Why, let me see, I have the same face, the same words and accents, when I speak what I do think, and when I speak what I do not think-the very same-and dear dissimulation is the only art not to be known from nature. Why will mankind be fools, and be deceived? When each, who searches strictly his own mind, [Exit. |