and I generally pump the fecrets out of the fervants, by fome trifling prefents, and often learn what is of infinite fervice to many of my cuftom. ers) they have quarrel'd, and fhe has refufed to fee him. I know fhe is a fpirited lady; and a little of my infinuating difcourfe may raise her temper to the pitch I would have it, and let me alone then to do your bufinefs. I have long ftudied my own fex, and find revenge for flighted love is what we all delight in; and most of us will fcruple at nothing to gratify this spirit, however prejudicial; nay tho' productive of our certain ruin.

CASHLOVE.

Dear Mrs. Manchette, I have long admired that lady, but you know what obftacles were in my way. If you can accomplish this, five hundred pounds fhall be your's on the day of my marriage.

MANCHETTE.

I will fet about it immediately. Come, drefs yourself, and be in readinefs; for we muft ftrike while the iron is hot. I fhall be glad to take a few things of this laft cargo with me.

CASHLOVE.

Step with me, and you fhall have

your

choice. [Exeunt.

SCENE.

SCENE.-Mrs. WORTHY'S HOUSE.

Enter Mrs. and Mifs WORTHY.

Mrs. WORTHY.

Was not Charlotte mightily referved to-day at Ranelagh?

Mifs CLARISSA.

I thought fo, Madam, though every thing confpired to fill the mind with joy. The weather, company, and mufic were delightful.

perceived fhe took no pleasure in them. Mrs. WORTHY.

Yet I

And when Sir Charles Friendly was coming to join us, fhe walked away, giving her hand to a perfon, who, I dare fay was a perfect stranger to her. They have certainly quarrelled. I obferved him all the morning after very uneafy. Do you know nothing of it.

CLARISSA.

No, Madam. But I thought she looked coolly at him last night. When they are here this evening, I'll endeavour to find it out, and reconcile them.

Mrs. WORTHY.

Do, child. It would grieve me, if two fuch worthy creatures were at variance.

Enter a Servant.

SERVANT.

Madam, a gentleman begs leave to wait upon

you.

Mrs.

Mrs. WORTHY.

Who is it? What's his name?

SERVANT.

I ask'd to know his name, but he faid he would tell it to none but you..

Enter RATTLE abruptly.

Nor will I.-[to Mifs] Bright fun, I am an Indian and adore thee. I have had a damned hard smart chace, but I thought I should have a view at laft. [afide feeing Mrs. Worthy] But what old Jezebel is this that baulks me of my happiness. Mrs. WORTHY.

Pray, Sir, your business?

RATTLE.

My business, old fobriety, my business, is with you. [afide] (What the Devil fhall I fay)—My business is not with you, it is with, withMrs. WORTHY.

Nobody here, I fuppofe-You've mistaken the house, Sir, therefore I fhould take it as a favour if you would retire, my daughter and I chufe not to be interrupted at this time.

RATTLE.

Oh! Madam, yes my business is with you, if you rais'd this fweet flower, by your leave, one fmell of this Carnation.

Mifs CLARISSA.

Forbear, Sir. Where learnt you this infolence

of behaviour.

RATTLE.

1

RATTLE.

Faith, Mifs, that's not fo hard a question to anfwer, as you may imagine; I learnt it in the fchool for lovers.

Mifs CLARISSA.

Then go, Sir, and learn a better leffon there.

RATTLE.

But pray,

I have learnt all the theory and now want the practice, which you must teach me. good lady, leave me to your daughter's inftructions, for ever fince I was examin'd before an affembly of old Dons at College, I could never fay any thing to the purpose before a company of antients. ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. WORTHY.

I almost fufpect, Sir, that your mother died young, and your father liv'd a life of negligence. RATTLE.

Why fo, good mother conjecture.

Mrs. WORTHY.

Because, Sir, you seem to have never receiv'd any advantage from either.

RATTLE.

Advantage, Madam, did you say? Yes, thanks to ceconomy, I received from them an eftate of five thousand a year. Is this no advantage think you?

Mrs.

Mrs. WORTHY.

Upon my word, if you give no better proofs of it, than what we have had, I think none.

RATTLE.

A woman's confcience! what in the name of fortune would you have? I am enabled by my eftate to dress well, to live well, to keep company with the beau monde, to fay foft things to young ladies, and damned faucy things to old ones, when they thwart my inclinations.

Mrs. WORTHY.

That is, Sir, to make your outside a sign, that there's nothing good within; and that the eftate has not defcended to its proper heir.

RATTLE.

A damned fevere comment, upon my foul. I fancy, old fatyr, you have read our modern bible. criticks, you can pervert the fenfe fo cleverly. Mrs. WORTHY.

I fancy, you have never read the bible at all.
RATTLE.

Oh yes, frequently when I was at school, and you fhall hear now how I have improved by my reading,

Phillis eclipfing thy bright mother's charms!

Jack Rattle courts thee to his youthful arms.

Give but the word, my dogs I'll drown in Trent,

My whips I'll burn; my hunters fhall be fent

To France. Come, frown not, frowns distort the face.

More than Whitfield's enthufiaftic grace.

HOR. B. 1. Ode 16.

D