P

SCENE III.

MELLEFONT, CARELESS,

CARELESS.

ERT Coxcomb.

and You must be

Mel. Faith 'tis a good natur'd Coxcomb, has very entertaining Follies. more humane to him; at this Juncture, it will do me Service. I'll tell you, I would have Mirth continued this Day at any rate; tho' Patience purchase Folly, and Attention be paid with Noife: There are Times when Senfe may be unfeasonable, as well as Truth. Prithee do thou wear none to Day; but allow Brisk to have Wit, that thou may'ft feem a Fool.

Care. Why, how now; why this extravagant Propofition?

Mel. O, I would have no room for ferious Defign; for I am jealous of a Plot. I would have Noise and Impertinence keep my Lady Touchwoods Head from working: For Hell is not more bufie than her Brain, nor contains more Devils, than that Imaginations.

Care. I thought your Fear of her had been overIs not to Morrow appointed for your Marriage with Cynthia? And her Father, Sir Paul Plyant, come to fettle the Writings this Day, on purpose?

Mel. True; but you fhall judge whether I have not reafon to be allarm'd. None befides you, and Maskwell, are acquainted with the Secret of my Aunt Touchwoods violent Passion for me. Since my firft Refusal of her Addreffes, fhe has endeavour'd to do me all ill Offices with my Uncle; yet has

ma

managed 'em with that Subtilty, that to him they have born the Face of Kindness; while her Malice, like a dark Lanthorn, only fhone upon me, where it was directed. Still it gave me lefs Perplexity to prevent the Success of her Difpleasure, than to avoid the Importunities of her Love; and of two Evils, I thought my felf favour'd in her Averfion. But whether urg'd by her Defpair, and the fhort Profpect of Time the faw, to accomplish her Defigns; whether the Hopes of Revenge, or of her Love, terminated in the View of this my Marriage with Cynthia, Iknow not; but this Morning the furpriz'd me in my Bed.

Care. Was there ever fuch a Fury! 'tis well Nature has not put it into her Sexes Power to ravish. Well, blefs us! proceed. What follow'd?

In

Mel. What at firft amaz'd me; for I look'd to have feen her in all the Tranfports of a flighted and revengeful Woman: But when I expected Thunder from her Voice, and Lightning in her Eyes, Ifaw her melted into Tears, and hufh'd into a Sigh. It was long before either of us fpoke, Paffion had ty'd her Tongue, and Amazement mine. fhort, the Confequence was thus, The omitted nothing that the most violent Love could urge, or tender Words exprefs; which when the faw had no effect, but still I pleaded Honour and Nearness of Blood to my Uncle; then came the Storm I fear'd at firft: For starting from my Bed-fide like a Fury, fhe flew to my Sword, and with much ado 1 prevented her doing me or her felf a Mischief. Having difarm'd her, ina Guft of Paffion the left me, and in a Refolution, confirm'd by a thousand Curfes, not to close her Eyes, 'till they had feen my Ruin.

Care. Exquifite Woman! But what the Devil, does fhe think thou haft no more Senfe, than to get an Heir upon her Body to difinherit thy felf: for

as I take it, this Settlement upon you, is, with a Provifo, that your Uncle have no Children.

Mel. It is fo. Well, the Service you are to do me', will be a Pleasure to your felf: I must get you to engage my Lady Plyant all this Evening, that my pious Aunt may not work her to her Intereft. And if you chance to fecure her to your felf, you may incline her to mine. She's hand fome, and knows it; is very filly, and thinks fhe has Sense; and has an old fond Husband.

Care. I confefs a very fair Foundation, for a Lover to build upon.

Mel. For my Lord Froth, he and his Wife will be fufficiently taken up, with admiring one another, and Brisks Gallantry, as they call it. "I'll obferve my Uncle my felf; and tack Maskwell has promifed me, to watch my Aunt narrowly, and give me notice upon any Sufpicion. As for Sir Paut , my wife Father-in-Law that is to be, my Dear Cynthia has fuch a fhare in his Fatherly Fondaefs, he would fcarce make her a Moment uneafie to have her happy hereafter.

Care. So, you have mann'd your Works: but I wish you may not have the weakest Guard, where the Enemy is ftrongest.

Mel. Maskwell, you mean; prithee why should you fufpect him ?

Care. Faith I cannot help it, you know I never lik'd him, I am a little fuperftitious in Phyfiognomy.

Mel. He has Obligations of Gratitude, to bind him to me; his Dependance upon my Uncle is through my Means.

Care. Upon your Aunt, you mean.

Mel. My Aunt!

Care. I'm mistaken if there be not a Familiarity between them, you do not fufpect: Notwithstanding her Paffion for you.

Mel.

Mel. Pooh, pooh, nothing in the World but his Defign to do me Service: and he endeavours to be well in her Efteem, that he may be able to effect.

it.

Care. Well, I fhall be glad to be mistaken; but, your Aunts Averfion in her Revenge, cannot be any way fo effectually fhown, as in bringing forth a Child to difinherit you. She is handfome and cunning, and naturally wanton. Maskwell is Flesh and Blood at beft; and Opportunities between them are frequent. His Affection to you, you have confeffed, is grounded upon his Intereft; that you have tranfplanted; and fhould it take Root in my Lady, I don't Lee what you can expect from the Fruit.

were

Mel. I confefs the Confequence is visible, your Sufpicions juft. But fee, the Company is broke up, let's meet 'em.

[To Them] Lord TOUCHWOOD, Lord FROTH, Sir PAUL PLYANT, and BRISK.

O

Ld. TOUCHWOOD.

your

Father-in

UT upon't Nephew Leave law, and me, to maintain our Ground against young People.

Mel. I beg your Lordships Pardon juft returning

-

We were

Sir Paul. Were you, Son? Gadsbud much better as it is Good, ftrange! Ifwear I'm almoft tipfie t'other Bottle would have been too powerful for anc, as fure as can be it would.

B 3

We wanted

your

your Company, bur Mr. Brisk Where is he? i fwear and vow, he's a moft facetious Perfon and the best Company. And, my Lord Froth, your Lordship is fo merry a Man, he, he, he!

'tis true;

Ld. Froth. O foy, Sir Paul, what do you mean? Merry! O barbarous ! I'd as lieve you call'd me Fool. Sir Paul. Nay, I proteft and vow now, when Mr. Brisk jokes, your Lordships Laugh does fo become you, he, he, he.

Ld. Froth. Ridiculous! Sir Paul, you're strangely mistaken; I find Champagne is powerful. Iaffure you, Sir Paul, I laugh at no Bodies Jeft but my own, ora Ladys; Iaffure you, Sir Paul.

Brisk. How? how, my Lord? what affront my Wit! Let me perifh, do I never fay any thing worthy to be laugh'd at?

Ld. Froth. O foy, don't mifapprehend me; I don't fay fo, for I often fmile at your Conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming a Man of Quality, than to Laugh, 'tis fuch a vulgar Expreffion of the Paffion! every Body can laugh. Then especially to laugh, at the Jeft of an inferior Perfon, or when any body elfe of the fame Quality does not laugh with one; ridiculous! To be pleafed with what pleases the Croud! Now when I laugh, I always laugh

alone.

Brisk. I fuppofe that's because you laugh at your own Jefts, I'gad, ha, ha, ha.

Ld. Froth. He, he, Ifwear tho', your Raillery provokes me to a Smile.

Brisk. Ay, my Lord, it's a fign I hit you in the Teeth, if you fhow 'ein.

Ld. Froth. He, he, he, I swear that's fo very pretty, I can't forbear.

Care. I find a Quibble bears more sway in your Lordships Face, than a Jeft.

Ld. Touch. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire to

the