The doctor considered a little with himself, and then said, I am really, child, puzzled as well as you about 'this matter. I would by no means have you go to 'the masquerade; I do not indeed like the diversion itself, as I have heard it described to me; not that I am such a prude to suspect every woman who goes 'there of any evil intentions; but it is a pleasure of too 'loose and disorderly a kind for the recreation of a sober 'mind. Indeed, you have still a stronger and more particular objection. I will try myself to reason him

เ

เ

' out of it.

'Indeed, it is impossible,' answered she; and therefore I would not set you about it. I never saw him more set on any thing. There is a party, as they call 'it, made on the occasion; and he tells me my refusal ' will disappoint all.'

'I really do not know what to advise you,' cries the doctor; 'I have told you I do not approve of these 'diversions; but yet, as your husband is so very desirous, I cannot think there will be any harm in going 'with him. However, I will consider of it, and do all in my power for you.'

Here Mrs. Atkinson came in, and the discourse on this subject ceased; but soon after Amelia renewed it, saying, there was no occasion to keep any thing a secret from her friend. They then fell to debating on the subject; but could not come to any resolution. But Mrs. Atkinson, who was in an unusual flow of spirits, cried out, 'Fear nothing, my dear Amelia, two women surely will be 6 too hard for one man. I think, doctor, it exceeds Virgil:

• Una dolo divûm si fœmina victa duorum est.'

Very well repeated, indeed,' cries the doctor. 'Do

you understand all Virgil as well as you seem to do that 'line ?'

6

'I hope I do, Sir,' said she, and Horace too; or else 'my father threw away his time to very little purpose in teaching me.'

'I ask your pardon, Madam,' cries the doctor. 'I own 'it was an impertinent question.'

'Not at all, Sir,' says she; 'and if you are one of those 'who imagine women incapable of learning, I shall not be offended at it. I know the common opinion; but

Interdum vulgus rectum videt, est ubi peccat.'

'If I was to profess such an opinion, Madam,' said the doctor, 'Madam Dacier and yourself would bear 'testimony against me. The utmost indeed that I should venture would be to question the utility of learning in 'a young lady's education.'

เ

'I own,' said Mrs. Atkinson, as the world is consti'tuted, it cannot be as serviceable to her fortune, as it 'will be to that of a man; but you will allow, doctor, 'that learning may afford a woman, at least, a reasonable ' and an innocent entertainment.'

'But I will suppose,' cries the doctor, 'it may have 'its inconveniences. As for instance, if a learned lady 'should meet with an unlearned husband, might she not 'be apt to despise him?'

เ

'I think not,' cries Mrs. Atkinson-' and, if I may be 'allowed the instance, I think I have shewn myself, that women who have learning themselves, can be contented 'without that qualification in a man.'

'To be sure,' cries the doctor, there may be other 'qualifications which may have their weight in the balance. But let us take the other side of the question, and suppose the learned of both sexes to meet in the

' matrimonial union, may it not afford one excellent sub'ject of disputation, which is the most learned?'

'Not at all,' cries Mrs. Atkinson; for, if they had 'both learning and good sense, they would soon see on 'which side the superiority lay.'

เ But if the learned man,' said the doctor, 'should be 'a little unreasonable in his opinion, are you sure that 'the learned woman would preserve her duty to her hus'band, and submit?'

'But why,' cries Mrs. Atkinson, 'must we necessarily เ suppose that a learned man would be unreasonable?'

'Nay, Madam,' said the doctor, 'I am not your hus'band; and you shall not hinder me from supposing 'what I please. Surely it is not such a paradox to con'ceive that a man of learning should be unreasonable. 'Are there no unreasonable opinions in very learned authors, even among the critics themselves? For inเ stance, what can be a more strange, and indeed un'reasonable opinion, than to prefer the Metamorphoses of 'Ovid to the Eneid of Virgil?'

เ

เ

'It would be indeed so strange,' cries the lady, 'that shall not persuade me it was ever the opinion of any

you

'man.'

Perhaps not,' cries the doctor; and I believe you ' and I should not differ in our judgments of any person 'who maintained such an opinion-What a taste must ' he have?'

'A most contemptible one indeed,' cries Mrs. Atkin

son.

'I am satisfied,' cries the doctor. 'And in the words ' of your own Horace, Verbum non amplius addam.'

'But how provoking is this!' cries Mrs. Atkinson, 'to 'draw one in in such a manner. I protest I was so warm ' in the defence of my favourite Virgil that I was not ' aware of your design; but all your triumph depends on

เ

a supposition that one should be so unfortunate as to 'meet with the silliest fellow in the world.'

'Not in the least,' cries the doctor. 'Doctor Bentley 'was not such a person; and yet he would have 'quarrelled, I am convinced, with any wife in the world, in behalf of one of his corrections. I don't suppose 'he would have given up his Ingentia Fata to an angel.' 'But do you think,' said she, 'if I had loved him, I เ would have contended with him?'

'Perhaps you might sometimes,' said the doctor, 'be ' of these sentiments; but you remember your own Virgil '-Varium et mutabile semper Fæmina.'

'Nay, Amelia,' said Mrs. Atkinson, 'you are now con'cerned as well as I am; for he hath now abused the 'whole sex, and quoted the severest thing that ever was 'said against us, though I allow it is one of the finest.'

'With all my heart, my dear,' cries Amelia. 'I have 'the advantage of you however, for I don't understand ' him.'

'Nor doth she understand much better than yourself,' cries the doctor; 'or she would not admire nonsense, ' even though in Virgil.'

Pardon me, Sir,' said she.

'And pardon me, Madam,' cries the doctor, with a feigned seriousness; 'I say, a boy in the fourth form at Eton would be whipped, or would deserve to be whipped at least, who made the Neuter Gender agree with the 'Feminine. You have heard, however, that Virgil left 'his Eneid incorrect; and, perhaps, had he lived to 'correct it, we should not have seen the faults we now see in it.'

'Why, it is very true as you say, doctor,' cries Mrs. Atkinson-There seems to be a false concord. I protest 'I never thought of it before.'

'And yet this is the Virgil,' answered the doctor, 'that

you are so fond of, who hath made you all of the Neuter 'Gender; or, as we say in English, he hath made mere 'animals of you; for, if we translate it thus,

Woman is a various and changeable animal,

'there will be no fault, I believe, unless in point of เ civility to the ladies.'

Mrs. Atkinson had just time to tell the doctor he was a provoking creature, before the arrival of Booth and his friend put an end to that learned discourse, in which neither of the parties had greatly recommended themselves to each other; the doctor's opinion of the lady being not at all heightened by her progress in the classics; and she on the other hand, having conceived a great dislike in her heart towards the doctor, which would have raged, perhaps, with no less fury from the consideration that he had been her husband.

CHAPTER II.

What happened at the masquerade.

FROM this time to the day of the masquerade nothing happened of consequence enough to have a place in this history.

On that day colonel James came to Booth's about nine in the evening, where he staid for Mrs. James, who did not come till near eleven. The four masques then set out together in several chairs; and all proceeded to the Hay-market.

When they arrived at the Opera-house, the colonel and Mrs. James presently left them; nor did Booth and his