ried to morrow! despair strikes me. Yet my foul knows I hate him too: let him but once be mine, and next immediate ruin feize him.

Mask. Compose yourself, you shall possess and ruin him too, Will that please you ?

L. T. How, how? Thou dear, thou precious villain, how? Mask. You have already been tampering with my Lady Plyant.

L. T. I have: She is ready for any impression I think fit.

Mask. She must be thoroughly persuaded, that Mellefont loves her.

L. T. She is so credulous that way naturally, and likes him so well, that she will believe it faster than I can perfuade her. But I don't see what you can propose from such a trifling design; for her first converfing with Mellefont, will convince her of the contrary.

Mask. I know it. I don't depend upon it. But 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,
What to rebuild, will a whole age employ. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

Enter Lady Froth and Cynthia.

Cynt. INDEED, madam! Is it poffible y

Is it possible your ladyship

L. Froth. 1 could not fleep; I did not fleep one wink for three weeks together.

Cynt. Prodigious! I wonder, want of fleep, and so much love, and so much wit as your ladyship has, did not turn your brain.

L. Froth. O my dear Cynthia, you must not rally your friend. But really, as you say, I wonder too,

I

But

But then I had a way. For between you and I, I had

whimfies and vapours, but I gave them vent.

Cynt. How pray, madam.

L. Froth. Oh, I writ, writ abundantly-Do you never write.

Cynt. Write, what?

L. Froth. Songs, elegies, fatires, encomiums, panegyricks, lampoons, plays, or heroic poems.

Cynt. O lord, not I, madam; I'm content to be a courteous reader.

L. Froth. O inconfiftent! In love, and not write! If my lord and I had been both of your temper, we had never come together, O bless me; what a fad thing would that have been, if my lord and I should never have met!

Cynt. Then neither my lord nor you would ever have met with your match, on my confcience.

L. Froth. O' my confcience no more we should; thou fay'st right-For fure 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 ribbon 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 'em to you.

Cynt. Yes, yes, madam, I'm not so ignorant.--At least I won't own it, to be troubled with your inftructions. [Afide.

L. Froth. Nay, I beg your pardon; but being deriv'd from the Greek, I thought you might have escap'd the etymology.--But I'm the more amaz'd, to find you a woman of letters, and not write! bless me! how can Mellefont believe you love him?

Cynt. Why faith, madam, he that won't take my word, shall never have it under my hand.

L. Froth. I vow Mellefont's a pretty gentleman, but methinks he wants a manner.

Cynt. A manner! what's that, madam?

L. Froth. Some diftinguishing quality, as for example, the bell air or brillant of Mr. Brisk; the folemnity, yet complaisance of my lord, or fomething of his own that should look a little Je-ne-Scai quoi; he is too much a mediocrity, in my mind.

Cyxt. Cynt. He does not indeed affect either pertness or formality; for which I like him: Here he comes.

L. Froth. And my lord with him: Pray observe the difference. Enter Lord Froth, Mellefont and Brifk Cynt. Impertinent creature! I could almost be angry with her now. [Afide.

L. Froth. My lord, I have been telling Cynthia, how much I have been in love with you; I swear I have; I'm not asham'd to own it now; Ah! it makes my heart leap, I vow, I figh 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, fighs, and then laughs out.]

Ld. Froth. Pleasant creature! perfectly well, ah! that look, ay, there it is; who could refift! 'twas so my heart was made a captive first, and ever since t'has been in love with happy flavery.

L. Froth. O that tongue, that dear deceitful tongue! that charming foftness in your mien and your expreffion, and then you 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. Ld. Froth. I faw myselfthere, and kiss'd it for your fake. L. Froth. Ah! gallantry to the last degree Mr. Brisk, you're a judge; was ever any thing so well bred as my lord?

Brisk. Never any thing; but your ladyship, let me perish.
L. Froth. O prettily turn'd 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.

Brisk. O dear, madam
L. Froth. An infinite deal!
Brisk. O Heavens, madam-

L. Froth. More wit than any body.

Brisk. I'm everlastingly your humble sevant, deuce take

me, madam.

Ld. Froth. Don't you think us a happy couple?
Cynt. I vow, my lord, I think you the happiest cou-

ple in the world, for you're not only happy in one ano

ther,

ther, and when you are together, but happy in your. selves, and by yourselves.

Ld. Froth. I hope Mellefont will make a good husband

too.

Cynt. "Tis my interest to believe he will, my lord. Ld. Froth. D'ye think he'll love you as well as I do my wife? I'm afraid not.

Cynt. I believe he'll love me better.

Ld. Froth. Heav'ns! that can never be; but why do you think fo?

Cynt. Because he has not so much reason to be fond of himself.

Ld. 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.

Ld. Froth. Ah, that's all.

Brisk. [To Lady Froth] Your ladyship is in the right; but I'gad I'm wholly turn'd into fatire. I confefs I write but feldom, but when I do-keen Iambicks I'gad. But my lord was telling me, your ladyship has made an essay toward an heroic poem.

L. 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 you won't guess-The Sillabub, ha, ha, ha!

Brisk. Because my lord's title's Froth, I'gad; ha, ha, ha! deuce take me very apropos and furprizing, ha, ha, ha! L. Froth. He, ay, is not it? And then I call my lord Spumoso; and myself, what d'ye think I call myfelf?

Brisk. Lactilla may be, 'gad I cannot tell, L. Froth. Biddy, that's all; just my own name. Brisk. Biddy! I'gad very pretty Deuce take me if your ladyship has not the art of furprizing the most naturally in the world, I hope you'll make me happy in communicating the poem.

L. Froth. O, you must be confident, I must ask your advice.

Brisk. I'm your humble servant, let me perish, I prefume your ladyship has read Boffu?

L. Froth. O yes, and Rapin, and Dacier upon Aristotle and and Horace. My lord, you must not be jealous, I'm communicating all to Mr. Brisk.

Ld. Froth, No, no, I'll allow Mr. Brisk; have you nothing about you to shew him, my dear?

L. Froth. Yes, I believe I have. - Mr. Brisk, come will you go into the next room? ' and there I'll shew you ' what I have.” [Exeunt L. Froth and Brifk.

Ld. Froth. I'll walk a turn in the garden, and come to you.

[Exit.

Mel. You're thoughtful, Cynthia ? Cynt. I'm thinking, tho' marriage makes man and wife one flesh, it leaves 'em still two fools; and they become more confpicuous by setting off one another.

Mel. That's only when two fools meet, and their follies are oppos'd.

Cynt. 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're going to play at: What think you of drawing stakes, and giving over in time?

Mel. No, hang't, that's not endeavouring to win, because it's possible we may lose; fince we have shuffled and cut, let's e'en turn up trump now.

Cynt. Then I find it's 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 intirely upon judgment.

Cynt. Still it is a game, and confequently one of us must be a lofer.

Mel. Not at all; only a friendly trial of skill, and the winnings to be laid out in an entertainment. - What's ' here, the musick! - Oh, my lord has promised the company a new song, we'll get 'em to give it us by the *way [Musicians crossing the stage.] Pray let us have the • favour of you, to practice the fong, before the company ' hear it.

SONG.