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'tis a dear vindication that’s purchased by the sword; for, though our champion proves victorious, yet our honour is wounded. Old Mir. Ay, and your lover may be wounded, that's another thing. But I think you are pretty brisk again, my child. Oriana. Ay, sir, my indisposition was only a pretence to divert the quarrel; the capricious taste of your sex, excuses this artifice in ours. [Eacit. Petit. Come, Mr Dugard, take courage; there is a way still left to fetch him again. Old Mir. Sir, I’ll have no plot that has any relation to Spain. Dug. I scorn all artifice whatsoever; my sword shall do her justice. Petit. Pretty justice, truly Suppose you run him through the body, you run her through the heart at the same time. Old Mir. And me through the head. Rot your sword, sir, we’ll have plots | Come, Petit, let's hear. Petit. What if she pretended to go into a nunnery, and so bring him about to declare himself? Dug. That, I must confess, has a face. Old Mir. A face a face like an angel, sir! Ad’s my life, sir, 'tis the most beautiful plot in Christendom! We'll about it immediately. [Ereunt,

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Old MIRABEL’s House.

Enter OLD MIRAbel and DuGARD.

Dug. The Lady Abbess is my relation, and privy to the plot.

Old Mir. Ay, ay, this nunnery will bring him about, I warrant ye.

Enter DURETEte.

Dur. Here, where are ye all 2–O, Mr Mirabel ! you have done fine things for your posterity–And you, Mr Dugard, may come to answer this—I come to demand my friend at your hands; restore him, sir, Or - [To OLD MIRABEL. Old Mir. Restore him What, d'ye think I have got him in my trunk, or my pocket 2 Dur. Sir, he's mad, and you are the cause on’t. Old Mir. That may be ; for I was as mad as he when I begot him. Dug. Mad, sir! What d'ye mean Dur. What do you mean, sir, by shutting up your sister yonder, to talk like a parrot through a cage 2 or a decoy-duck, to draw others into the snare 2 Your son, sir, because she has deserted him, he has forsaken the world; and, in three words, has— Old Mir. Hanged himself!

Dur. The very same—turned friar! Old Mir. You lie, sir! 'tis ten times worse. Bob turned friar!—Why should the fellow shave his foolish crown, when the same razor may cut his throat 2 Dur. If you have any command, or you any interest over him, lose not a minute: He has thrown himself into the next monastery, and has ordered me to pay off his servants, and discharge his equipage. 9ld Mir. Let me alone to ferret him out: I’ll sacrifice the Abbot, if he receives him ; I’ll try whether the spiritual or the natural father has the most right to the child.—But, dear captain, what has he done with his estate 2 Dur. Settled it upon the church, sir. Old Mir. The church Nay, then the devil wo’nt get him out of their clutches Ten thousand livres a year upon the church 'Tis downright sacrilege— Come, gentlemen, all hands to work: for half that sum, one of these monasteries shall protect you a traitor from the law, a rebellious wife from her husband, and a disobedient son from his own father. [Exit. Dug. But will ye persuade me that he’s gone to a monastery 2 Dur. Is your sister gone to the Filles Repenties? I tell you, sir, she’s not fit for the society of repenting maids. Dug. Why so, sir? Dur. Because she's neither one nor t'other; she's too old to be a maid, and too young to repent. [Exit—DuGARD after him.

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The Inside of a Monastery.

- o Enter ORIANA, in a Nun's Habit, and BisaRRE.

Oriana. I hope, Bisarre, there is no harm in jesting with this religious habit. ... Bis. To me, the greatest jest in the habit is taking it in earnest.

Oriana. But I’m reconciled, methinks, to the mortification of a nunnery; because I fancy the habit beCOIneS Ine.

Bis. A well-contrived mortification, truly, that makes a woman look ten times handsomer than she did before l—Ay, my dear, were there any religion in becoming dress, our sex's devotion were rightly placed; for our toilets would do the work of the altar; we should all be canonized.

Oriana. But don't you think there is a great deal of merit in dedicating a beautiful face and person to the service of religion ?

Bis. Not half so much as devoting them to a pretty fellow. Come, come, mind your business. Mirabel loves you, 'tis now plain, and hold him to't; give fresh orders that he shan’t see you; we get more by hiding our faces, sometimes, than by exposing them: a very mask, you see, whets desire; but a pair of keen eyes, through an iron grate, fire double upon them, with view and disguise. But I must begone upon my affairs; I have brought my captain about again.

Oriana. But why will you trouble yourself with that coxcomb Bis. Because he is a coxcomb: had I not better have a lover like him, that I can make an ass of, than a lover like yours, to make a fool of me? [Knocking below.] A message from Mirabel, I’ll lay my life I [She runs to the Door.] Come hither! run, thou charming nun, come hither' Oriana. What's the news 2 [Runs to her. Bis. Don't you see who's below Oriana. I see nobody but a friar. Bis. Ah, thou poor blind Cupid! a friar ! Don’t you see a villainous genteel mien, under that cloak of hypocrisy Oriana. As I live, Mirabel turned friar! I hope, in Heaven, he’s not in earnest. Bis. In earnest! Ha! has has are you in earnest ? Remember what I say, if you would yield to advantage, and hold out the attack; to draw him on, keep him off, to be sure.

The cunning gamesters never gain too fast,
But lose at first, to win the more at last. [Exit.

Enter YouNG MIRABEL, in a Friar’s Habit.

Y. Mir. 'Save you, sister—Your brother, young lady, having a regard for your soul's health, has sent me to prepare you for the sacred habit, by confession.

Oriana. My brother's care I own; and to you, sacred sir, I confess, that the great crying sin, which I have long indulged, and now prepare to expiate, was love. My morning thoughts, my evening prayers, my daily musings, nightly cares, was love!

Y. Mir. She's downright stark mad in earnest Death and confusion, I have lost her! [Aside.]—You confess your fault, madam, in such moving terms, that I could almost be in love with the sin.

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