Enter SIR JOHN MILLAMOUR and BYGROVE.

Byg. Why, then, I'll marry again, and disinberit him.

Sir John. Brother Bygrove, you think too severely in these matters.

Byg. Well argued, truly! he that should obey is to judge for himself, and you that are his governor, are to be directed by him,

Sir John. Your system and mine differ widely, brother Bygrove. My son is of an enlarged and liberal understanding, and I a father of mild authority.

Byg. If I see anything wrong, I accost him directly: Lookye, sir, do you think to go on in this fashion? Not daring my life, I promise you: I will acknowledge you no longer than you prove worthy; and if you can't discern what is befitting you, I at least will judge what is proper on my

part.

Sir John. Well, George and I have lived together as friends. From a boy, I endeavoured to subject him rather to his reason than his fears.

Byg. But the consequence of all this? Has he a settled opinion? a fixed principle for a moment? Sir John. I beg your pardon. I see a person there. Charles! Charles! this way.

Enter CHARLES.

Sir John. Well, Charles, what is he about! Char. Very busy, sir; a thousand things in hand.

Byg. And all at the same time, I'll warrant. Char. We have a deal to employ us, sir. Sir John. Have you sounded him in regard to what I mentioned last night?

Char. That's what I wanted to tell your honour. Last night, sir, as he was going to bed, I touched upon the subject; dropt a hint or two, that it is now time to think of raising heirs to himself; enlarged upon the comforts of matrimony, and I think with no small degree of eloquence.

Byg. The fellow is laughing at you.

Sir John. Well, and how? What effect?

Char. A very visible effect, sir. This morning early, my master rings his bell. Charles, says he, I have been considering what you said last night; I shall pay a visit to the young ladies, and, believe, I shall marry one of them.

Sir John. There, Mr. Bygrove: I am for ever obliged to you, Charles. Well, go on.

Char. I fly immediately to get him his things to dress, and return in an instant. Charles, says he, then tossed himself back in his chair, beat the ground with his heel, and fell a reading. Won't your honour get ready to visit the young ladies! The ladies! what ladies, you blockhead? Lady Bell, and Lady Jane, your honour, Mrs. Bromley's handsome nieces. Poh! you're a numskull, says he, with an oblique kind of a smile; stretched his

arms, yawned, talked to himself, and bade me go about my business.

Byg. I knew it would end so. There is not a crane-neck carriage in town can give a short turn with him.

Sir John. This is provoking. Anybody with him this morning?

Char. He has had a power of people with him, sir-a commission-broker, to sell him a company in a marching regiment; the mayor of a borough, about a seat in parliament. And there are several with him, now, sir. There is Sir Harry Lovewit, and

Byg. Ay, Sir Harry! I am glad he is of age, and that I am no longer his guardian.

Char. He is with my master, sir; and there is Mr. Malvil, and Mr. Dashwould, and-(Bell rings.) -He rings, sir; you will pardon me, I must be gone, sir. [Exit. Byg. And that fellow, Dashwould; he is the ruin of your son, and of poor Sir Harry into the bargain. He has wit to ridicule you; invention to frame a story of you; humour to help it about, and when he has set the town a laughing, he puts on a familiar air, and shakes you by the hand."

Byg. Mr. Freeport ?

Mal. I say nothing; I don't like the affair; have you really heard nothing? Any money of yours in his hands?

Byg. Poh! as safe as the bank.

Mal. I may be mistaken. I hope I am; I was in company the other night; several members of parliament present; they did not speak plainly; hints and inuendoes only; you won't let it it go any further. His seat in the house, they all agreed, is perfectly convenient at this juncture. I hope the cloud will blow over. I shall remember you with the widow.

Byg. One good turn deserves another; I sha'n't be unmindful of your interest.

Mal. There now, you hurt me; you know my delicacy; must friendship never act a disinterested part? I esteem you, Mr. Bygrove, and that's sufficient. Sir John, give me leave to say, the man who busies himself about other people's affairs, is a pragmatical character, and very dangerous in society.

Byg. So I have been telling Sir John. But to laugh at everything is the fashion of the age. A pleasant good-for-nothing fellow is by most people preferred to modest merit. A man like Dashwould, who runs on-So! here comes Scandal in folio.

Enter DASHWould.

Dash. Sir John, I rejoice to see you. Mr. Bygrove, I kiss your hand. Malvil, have you been uneasy for any friend since?

Mal. Poh! absurd! (Walks away.) Dash. I have been laughing with your son, Sir John. Pray, have I told you about Sir Richard Doriland?

Byg. You may spare him, sir, he is a very worthy man.

Dash. He is so; great good-nature about him; I love Sir Richard. You know he was divorced from his wife; a good fine woman, but an invincible idiot.

Mal. Look ye there, now, Mr. Bygrove! Byg. My Lady Doriland, sir, was always accounted a very sensible woman.

Dash. She was so; with too much spirit to be ever at ease, and a rage for pleasure, that broke the bubble as she grasped at it. She fainted away upon hearing that Mrs. Allnight had two card tables more than herself.

Byg. Inveterate malice!

Dash. Don't you know the history of that business?

Mal. Now mark him; now.

Dash. Tender of reputation, Malvil; the story is well known. She was detected with-the little foreign count-I call him the salamander-I saw him five times in one winter upon the back of the fire at Bath, for cheating at cards.

Mal. Go on, sir, abuse everybody. My lady was perfectly innocent. I know the whole affair; a mere contrivance to lay the foundation of a di

vorce.

Dash. So they gave out. Sir Richard did not care a nine-pin for her while she was his. You know his way; he despises what is in his possession, and languishes for what is not. Her ladyship was no sooner married to-What's-his-nameHis father was a footman, and madam Fortune, who every now and then loves a joke, sent him to the East Indies, and in a few years brought him back at the head of half a million, for the jest's

sake.

milies to be run down in this manner. Mal. Mr. Dashwould, upon my word, sir-Fa

Dash. Mushroom was his name; my Lady Doriland was no sooner married to him, but up to his eyes Sir Richard was in love with her. He dressed at her; sighed at her; danced at her; she is now libelled in the Commons, and Sir Richard has a crim. con. against him in the King's Bench, Mal. Psba! I shall stay no longer to hear this strain of defamation. [Exit. Dash. Malvil, must you leave us? A pleasant character this same Malvil.

Byg. He has a proper regard for bis friends, sir.

Dash. Yes, but he is often present where their characters are canvassed, and is anxious about whispers which nobody has heard. He knows the use of hypocrisy better than a court chaplain.

and so pervert everything. Byg. There, call honesty by a burlesque name,

Dash. Things are more perverted, Mr. Bygrove, when such men as Malvil make their vices do their work, under a mask of goodness; and with that stroke we'll dismiss his character.

Sir John. Ay, very right; my brother Bygrove has a regard for him, and so change the sub

ject. My son, Mr. Dashwould, what does he intend?

Dash. Up to the eyes in love with Lady Bell, and determined to marry her.

Sir John. I told you so, Mr. Bygrove; I told you, you would soon see him settled in the world. Mr. Dashwould, I thank you: I'll step and confirm George in bis resolution. [Exit. Dash. A good-natured man, Sir John, and does not want credulity.

Byg. Ay, there, the moment his back is turned. Dash. Gulliver's Travels is a true history to him. His son has strange flights. First he was to be a lawyer; bought chambers in the Temple, eat his

commons, and was called to the bar. Then the

law is a d-d dry, municipal study; the army is fitter for a gentleman; and as he was going to the war office to take out his commission, he saw my Lord Chancellor's coach go by; in an instant, back to the Temple, and no sooner there, "Poh! plague! bang the law! better marry, and live like a gentleman.' Now marriage is a galling yoke, and he does not know what he'll do. He calls his man Charles; sends him away; walks about the room, sits down, asks a question; thinks of something else; talks to himself, sings, whistles, lively, pensive, pleasant and melancholy in an instant. He approves, finds fault; he will, he will not; and in short, the man does not know his own mind for half a second. Here comes Sir John.

Enter SIR JOHN.

Dash. You find him disposed to marry, Sir John?

Sir John. I hope so; he wavers a little; but still I

Byg. Poh! I have no patience; my advice has been all lost upon you. wish it may end well. A good morning, Sir John. (Going.) Dash. Mr. Bygrove, yours; Sir John will defend you in your absence.

Byg. If you will forget your friends in their absence, it is the greatest favour you can bestow upon them. [Exit. Dash. Did I ever tell you what happened to him last summer at Tunbridge?

Sir John. Excuse me for the present. This light young man! I must step and talk with my lawyer. Dash. I'll walk part of the way with you. A strange medley this same Mr. Bygrove; with something like wit, he is always abusing wit. You must know, last summer at Tunbridge

Sir John. Another time, if you please. [Exit. Dash. The story is worth your hearing; a party of us dined at the Sussex (Following Sir John.)

Enter CHARLES.

Char. Mr. Dashwould, Mr. Dashwould!

Re-enter DASHWOULD.

Dash. What's the matter, Charles? Char. My master desires you won't go.

Enter SIR HARRY.

Sir H. Eh? what, going to leave us?

Dash. Only a step with Sir John. Strange vagaries in your master's head, Charles!-Sir Harry! going to wait upon Miss Neville, I suppose. She has beauty, and you have a heart.

Sir H. Psha! there you wrong me now! Why will you?

Dash. Very well; be it so. I can't see to be sure; but take my word for it, you will marry that girl. Come, I'll follow you.

Sir H. I must not part with you; I had rather Jose the whole college of physicians.

[Exit.

Dash. March on, Sir Harry. (Turns to Charles.) Did you ever see such a baronet? This fellow, Charles, is as ridiculous himself as any of them. [Exil·

Char. Now have I but one man in the house, and he will be fifty different men in a moment. Hurry! hurry! nothing but hurry! Get me this; get me that; get me t'other. A poor servant does not know which way to turn himself in this house. Enter RICHARD.

Char. Well, Richard, what are you about? Rich. Why a man in a whirlwind may as well tell what he is about. Going to order the coachman walk to the Temple. to put up. He intends to change his dress, and [Exit.

Char. What does he mean by talking of the Temple again? I hope we are not going to take to our studies once more. I hate the law; there is not a footman in the Temple has a grain of taste. All mere lawyers! They have not an idea out of the profession.

Enter ROBErt.

Char. She is by far preferable to her sister, your honour.

The sober graces of Lady Jane! Lady Bell adMil. Poh! you are illiterate in these matters. vances like a conqueror, and demands your heart. Lady Jane seems unconscious of her charms, and yet enslaves you deeper.

Char. Which of them does your honour think— Mil. Which of 'em, Charles? (Reads a paper. "I look'd, and I sigh'd, and I wish'd I could speak."

Enter ROBERT.

Rob. Captain Bygrove, sir.

Mil. That's unlucky. I am not at home; tell him I went out an hour ago.

Enter CAPTAIN BYGROVE.

Mil. My dear Bygrove, I longed to see you.But why that pensive air? Still in love, I suppose. [Exeunt Char. and Rob. Capt. B. My dear Millamour, you have guessed am in love, and glory in my chains. Mil. Shall I tell you a secret? I suspect myself, plaguily. Everything is not as quiet here as it used to be.

it.

Capt. B. Indulge the happy passion. Let wits and libertines say what they will; there is no true happiness but in the marriage state.

Mil. Why I have thought much upon the subject of late, and with a certain refinement, I don't know but a man may fashion a complying girl to his taste of happiness. Virtuous himself, he confirms her in her virtue; constant, he secures her fidelity; and by continuing the lover, instead of commencing the tyrant husband, he wins from her the sweetest exertion of tenderness and love. I shall most positively marry. Who is your idol? My dear boy, impart.

Capt. B. There I beg to be excused. You know my father?

Mil. Yes, I think I do.

Capt. B. I must not presume to think for myself. I must contrive some stratagem to make him propose the match. Were it to move first from me, I should be obliged to decamp from before the town at once.

Mil. I wish you success. My resolution is taken and with the most amiable of her sex. She romps about the room like one of the graces; and deals about her wit with such a happy negligence

Capt. B. An agreeable portrait, but mine is the very reverse. That equal serenity in all her ways! Wit she has, but without ostentation, and elegance itself seems the pure effect of nature.

Mil. (Aside.) I don't know whether that is not the true character for a wife. And pray, what progress have you made in her affections?

Capt. B. Enough to convince me that I am not quite unacceptable. My dear Millamour, I had rather fold that girl in my arms, than kiss his Majesty's hand for the first regiment of guards.

Mil. I am a lost man. I shall most positively marry. We will wouder at each other's felicity; and be the envy of all our acquaintance.

Enter DASHWould.

Dash. I am as good as my word, you see. Most noble Captain, your father was here this morning. A good agreeable old gentleman, and about as pleasant as a nightmare. Millamour, whom do you think I met since I saw you?

Mil. Whom?

Dash. Our friend Beverley! just imported from Paris, perfectly frenchified, and abusing everything in this country-"Oh! there is no breathing their English atmosphere; roast beef and liberty will be the death of me."

Mil. Ha, ha! poor Beverley, I saw him last summer, at Paris, dressed in the style of an English fox-hunter; he swore there was not a morsel to eat in their country, and kept an opera singer upon beef-steaks and oyster-sauce.

Dash. He has done his country great honour abroad.

Capt. B. He will settle at home now; going to be married.

; he is

Dash. Yes, I hear he is in love, and much good may it do him. I wish I may die, if I know so ridiculous a thing as love.-My life!-My soul!Hybla dwells upon her lips; ecstasy and bliss! blank verse and pastoral nonsense! In a little time, the man wonders what bewitched him; an arm chair after dinner, and a box and dice till five in the morning, make all the comforts of his life. Mil. Very true. Love is a ridiculous passion indeed.

Capt. B. Do you take up arms against me? But a moment since, just as you came in, he was acknowledging to me

Mil. No, not I, truly; I acknowledge nothing. Marriage is not to my taste, I promise you. The handsome wife! she is all affectation, routs, drums, hurricanes, and intrigue.

Dash. And the ugly! she makes it up with good sense; pronounces upon wit, and talks you dead with maxims, characters, and reflections.

Mil. And the woman of high birth, she produces her pedigree, as her patent for vice and folly. "Seven's the main," and away goes your whole for

tune.

Capt. B. Mere common-place.

Dash. And the tender maukin; she doats upon you. "Don't drink any more, my dear:" "You'll take cold near that window, my love:" "Pray don't talk so much, you'll flurry your spirits." And then kisses you before company.

Mil. So it is. Ha, ha, ha! (Both laugh.) Capt. B. You play finely into one another's hands. Mil. Now mark the champion of the sex. Dash. Yes; he'll throw down the gauntlet for 'em. (Both laugh.)

Capt. B. Nay, decide it your own way. Since you won't hear, gentlemen, there is a clear stage for you. [Exit.

Dash. Fare ye well, most noble Captain. A facetious companion! did you ever hear him say anything?

Mil. He is in for it; and my father would fain reduce me to the same condition with one of Mrs. Bromley's nieces. A good fine woman, Mrs. Bromley!

Dash. Has been. Were she now to rub her cheek with a white handkerchief, her roses and lilies would go to the clear starcher.

Mil. Ha, ha! and yet she sets up for the rival of her nieces.

Dash. The young ladies are pretty well in their way too. Lady Bell has a brisk volubility of nothing, that she plays the pretty idiot with; and Lady Jane, a sly piece of formality, ready to go post for Scotland, with the first red-coat that asks her the question. We all dine at the widow's today, are you to be with us?

Mil. Yes, to meet you; the party will be diverting.

Dash. Observe old Bygrove. He pronounces with rigour upon the conduct of others, and hopes his own follies lie concealed. His whole struggle is to escape detection. Mark him with the widow; you will see him sighing for his deceased wife and Mrs. Bromley's charms at the same time. One eye shall weep for the dead, and the other ogle the living.

Mil. Ha, ha! And then Malvil laying siege to Miss Neville!

Dash. Miss Neville is the best of them. Mrs. Bromley has taken her into her house, as a poor relation, whom she pities; and her pity is no more than the cruel art of tormenting an unhappy dependant upon her generosity.

Mil. But she has generosity. She has promised Miss Neville a fortune of five thousand pounds.

Dash. And so the hook is baited for Malvil. The widow flings out that snare, to counteract Sir Harry.

Mil. Sir Harry!

Dash. Yes; he is in love with Miss Neville; and the best of the story is, he is afraid I shall think him ridiculous. If I say the word, and promise not to laugh at him, he breaks his mind at once. Miss Neville sees clearly that he admires her, and of course will never listen to Malvil. The self-interested designs of that fellow shall be disappointed.

Mil. Admirable! thou art a whimsical fellow. Come, I attend you. A pleasant group they are all together. It is as you say—

Our passions sicken, and our pleasures cloy;
A fool to laugh at, is the height of joy.
[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.-A Room in Mrs. Bromley's House. Enter MRS. BROMLEY and MISS NEVILLE.

Mrs. B. Why, to be sure, Neville, there is something in what you say; one is so odd, and so I don't know how in a morning.

Miss N. Certainly, madam; and then people of your turn, whose wit overflows in conversation, are liable to waste of spirits, and the alteration appears sooner in them.

Mrs. B. So it does; you observe very prettily upon things. Heigho! I am as faded as an old lute-string to-day.

Miss N, No, indeed, madam, you look very tolerably, considering.

Mrs. B. (Aside.) Considering! she grows pert, I think. I am glad you think me not altogether intolerable.

Miss N. Madam!

Mrs. B. Tolerably! she is Lady Bell's prime agent. (Aside.) Has Sir Harry given you hopes lately?

Miss N. Sir Harry! I really don't understand why he is mentioned.

Mrs. B. Do you think it will be a match? And have you made up your quarrel with Lady Bell? (Sits down.)

Miss N. The sweetness of her disposition reconciles everything.

Mrs. B. And is Millamour reconciled to Lady Bell?

Miss N. There was only a slight mistake which I explained.

Mrs. B. Oh! you explained? that was prudently done; I am glad to hear this; and do you think he loves her? Tell me, tell me all. Why, why do you think he loves her?

Miss N. He cannot be insensible of her merit; and the other day he asked me if you were likely to approve of his proposing for Lady Bell.

Mrs. B. And you told him. Well!-what did you tell him?

Miss N. That you, no doubt, would be ready to promote the happiness of so amiable a young lady. Mrs. B. You told him so? (Rises and walks.) And so you are turned match-maker? you busy yourself in my family! Hey! Mrs. Start-up! you are dizened out, I think; my wardrobe has supplied you.

Miss N. Your pardon, madam; I had these things in the country, when you first shewed so much goodness to me.

Mrs. B. What airs! you know I hate to see creatures give themselves airs. Was not I obliged to provide you with everything?

Miss N. You have been very kind; I always acknowledge it.

Mrs. B. Acknowledge it! Does not everybody

know it?

Miss N. Yes, madam, I dare say everybody does know it.

Mrs. B. That's maliciously said. I can spy a sneer upon that false face. You suppose I have made my brags. That's what lurks in your ambiguous meaning. I deserve it-deliver me from poor relations!

Miss N. (Aside.) Now the storm begins! I am sure I have said nothing to offend you. I am helpless, it is true, but your relation, and by that tie, a gentlewoman still.

Mrs. B. I made you a gentlewoman. Did not I take you up in the country, where you lived in the parsonage-house, you and your sister, with no other company to converse with, than the melaneholy tombstones, where you read the high and

mighty characters of Jobn Hodge, and Deborah his wife? While your father's miserable horse, worn to a shadow with carrying double to the next market-town, limped about, with a dull alms-begging eye, in quest of the wretched sustenance that grew thriftily between the graves? Did not I take you out of your misery?

Miss N. You did, madam. (In a softened tone.) Mrs. B. Did not I bring you home to the great house?

Miss N. You did, madam. (Weeps aside.) Mrs. B. And I am finely thanked for it. Warm the snake, and it will turn upon you.

Miss N. (Aside.) I cannot bear to be insulted thus !

Mrs. B. So! your spirit is humbled, is it? Miss N. Give me leave to tell you, madam, that when people of superior fortune, whom Providence has enabled to bestow obligations, claim a right, from the favours they confer, to tyrannise over the hopes and fears of a mind in distress; they exercise a cruelty more barbarous than any in the whole history of human malice.

Mrs. B. Is this your gratitude?

Miss N. I could be thankful for happiness, if you permitted me to enjoy it; but when I find myself, under colour of protection, made the sport of every sudden whim; I have a spirit, madam, that can distinguish between real benevolence, and the pride of riches. (Weeps.)

Mrs. B. I fancy I have been too violent. After all this sour, I must sweeten her a little. (Aside.) Come, dry up your tears; you know I'm goodnatured in the main; I am only jealous that you don't seem to love me.

Miss N. Were that left to my own heart, every principle there would attach me to you. But to be dunned for gratitude

Mrs. B. You are right; the observation is very just; I am in the wrong. Come, let us be friends. I have a great regard for you, Neville. (Aside.) The creature should visit with me, only she looks so well. How! did not I hear Mr. Malvil's voice? yes, it is he; I am visible; I am at home; shew him in. Walk in, Mr. Malvil.

Enter MALVIL.

Mal. To a person of sentiment, like you, madam, a visit is paid with pleasure.

Mrs. B. You are very good to me. Neville, do you step and bring me the letter that lies upon my table. [Exit Miss N.] I am obliged to go out this morning. (Smiles at Malvil.) She looks mighty well; I have been speaking for you; our scheme will take. Sir Harry will not be able to rival you; she will be your reward for all your services to

me.

Mal. Your generosity is above all praise, and so I was saying this moment to Mr. Bygrove; he is coming to wait on you.

Mrs. B. That's unlucky; I wanted to have some talk with you. Well, have you seen Millamour? Mal. Yes, and find him apt; I have hopes of succeeding.

Mrs. B. Hush! not so loud! you think me mad, I believe. May I hazard myself with that wild man?

Mal. Your virtue will reclaim him. I have a friendship for Millamour, and that is my reason for counteracting the designs of my friend Bygrove. Mr. Bygrove has desired me to speak favourably of him to your ladyship.

Mrs. B. Oh! but he kept his last wife mewed in the country; I should certainly expire in the country.

Mal. He is a very worthy man. I am sorry to see some oddities in him; but that is very common in life. Vices always border upon virtues.