Leon. Well, now good night;
Pray, ease our fright;

You're very bold, Sir;
Let loose your hold, Sir:

I think you want to scare me quite.

Lean. Oh fortune's spite!

Leon. Good night, good night.

Hark! the neighb'ring convent's bell
Tolls the vesper hour to tell;

The clock now chimes;

A thousand times,

A thousand times farewell.

Enter DON DIEGO.

Dieg. Stay, Sir; let nobody go out of the room.
Urs. (falling down) Ah, ah! a ghost! a ghost!
Dieg. Woman, stand up.

Urs. I won't, I won't. Murder! don't touch me.
Dieg. Leonora, what am I to think of this?
Leon. Oh, dear Sir, don't kill me.

Dieg. Young man, who are you who have thus clandestinely, at an unseasonable hour, broke into my house? Am I to consider you as a robber, or how?

Lean. As one whom love has made indiscreet; as one whom love has taught industry and art to compass his designs. I love the beautiful Leonora, and she me; but further than what you hear and see, neither one nor the other have been culpable.

Mun. Hear him, hear him.

Lean. Don Diego, you know my father well-Don Alphonso de Luna; I am a scholar of this university, and am willing to submit to whatever punishment he, through your means, shall inflict; but wreak not your vengeance here.

Dieg. Thus then my hopes and cares are at once frustrated; possessed of what I thought a jewel, I was desirous to keep it for myself; I raised up the walls of this house to a great height; I barred up my windows towards the street; I put double bolts on my doors; I banished all that had the shadow of man or

male kind; and I stood continually centinel over it myself, to guard my suspicion from surprise: thus secured, I left my watch for one little moment, and in that moment

Leon. Pray, pray, guardian, let me tell you the story; you'll find I'm not to blame.

Dieg. No, child, I am only to blame, who should have considered that sixteen and sixty agree ill together. But though I was too old to be wise, I am not too old to learn; and so, I say, send for a smith directly, beat all the grates from my windows, take the locks from my doors, and let egress and regress be given freely.

Leon. And will you be my husband, Sir?

Dieg. No, child, I will give you to one that will make you a better husband. Here, young man, take her: if your parents consent, to-morrow shall see you joined in the face of the church, and the dowry which I promised her, in case of failure on my side of the contract, shall now go with her as a marriage portion.

Lean. Signor, this is so generous

Dieg. No thanks; perhaps I owe acknowledgments to you; but you, Ursula, have no excuse-no passion to plead and your age should have taught you better. I'll give you five hundred crowns; but never let me see you more.

Mun. And what you give me, Massa?

Dieg. Bastinadoes for your drunkenness and infidelity. Call in my neighbours and friends.- 0 man! man! how short is your foresight, how ineffectual your prudence! while the very means you use are destructive of your ends!

Go forge me fetters that shall bind
The rage of the tempestuous wind;
Sound with a needleful of thread
The depth of ocean's steepy bed;

Snap like a twig the oak's tough tree;
Quench Etna with a cup of tea;
In these manoeuvres shew your skill,
Then hold a woman, if you will.
Urs. Permit me to put in a word.

My master here is quite absurd.
That men should rule our sex is meet;
But art, not force, must do the feat:
Remember what the fable says,
Where the sun's warm and melting rays
Soon bring about what wind and rain,
With all their fuss, attempt in vain.
Mun. And, Massa, be not angry, pray,
If neger man a word should say;
Me have a fable pat as she,
Which wid dis matter will agree;
An owl once took it in his head
Wid some young pretty bird to wed;
But when his worship came to woo,
He could get none but de cuckoo.
Leon. Ye youth select, who wish to taste
The joys of wedlock, pure and chaste,
Ne'er let the mistress and the friend
An abject slave and tyrant end.
While each with tender passion burns,
Ascend the throne of rule by turns;
And place (to love, to virtue just)
Security in mutual trust.

Lean. To sum up all you now have heard-
Young men and old, peruse the bard:
A female trusted to your care,
(His rule is pithy, short, and clear,)
Be to her faults a little blind;
Be to her virtues very kind;
Let all her ways be unconfined,
And clap your padlock on her mind.

[Exeunt.

MISS IN HER TEENS;

OR,

THE MEDLEY OF LOVERS,

A

FARCE,

IN TWO ACTS,

AS PERFORMED AT THE

THEATRE-ROYAL, DRURY-LANE.

BY

DAVID GARRICK, Esq.