Lady

to a miracle.

wager.

But then her foot, gentlemen! she dances
Vizard, you have certainly lost your

Vizard. Why, you have certainly lost your senses; we shall never discover the picture, unless you sub4 scribe the name.

Sir H. Then her name is Lurewell.

Colonel S. 'Sdeath! my mistress!
Vizard. My mistress, by Jupiter!
Sir H. Do you know her, gentlemen ?
Colonel S. I have seen her, sir.

[Aside. [Aside.

Sir H. Canst tell where she lodges? Tell me, dear colonel.

Colonel S. Your humble servant, sir.

[Exit. Sir H. Nay, hold, colonel; I'll follow you, and will know.

[Runs out. Vizard. The Lady Lurewell his mistress! He loves her: but she loves me.---But he's a baronet, and I plain Vizard; he has a coach, and I walk on foot; I was bred in London, and he in Paris.-That very circumstance has murdered me

-Then some strata

gem must be laid to divert his pretensions.

Enter WILDAIR.

Sir H. Pr'ythee, Dick, what makes the colonel so

out of humour?

Vizard. Because he's out of pay, I suppose.

20 Sir H. 'Slife, that's true! I was beginning to mistrust some rivalship in the case.

Vizard. And suppose there were, you know the colonel can fight, Sir Harry.

Sir H. Fight! Pshaw-but he cannot dance, ha!— We contend for a woman, Vizard. 'Slife, man, if ladies were to be gained by sword and pistol only, what the devil should all we beaux do?

Vizard. I'll try him farther. [Aside.] But would not you, Sir Harry, fight for this woman you so much

admire?

Sir H. Fight! Let me consider. I love herthat's true;--but then I love honest. Sir Harry Wildair better. The Lady Lurewell is divinely charming-right--but then a thrust i' the guts, or a Middlesex jury, is as ugly as the devil.

Vizard. Ay, Sir Harry, 'twere a dangerous cast for a beau baronet to be tried by a parcel of greasy, grumbling, bartering boobies, who would hang you, purely because you're a gentleman.

Sir H. Ay, but on t'other hand, I have money 780 enough to bribe the rogues with: so, upon mature deliberation, I would fight for her. But no more of her. Pr'ythee, Vizard, cannot you recommend a friend to a pretty mistress by the bye, till I can find my own? You have store, I'm sure; you cunning poaching dogs make surer game, than we that hunt open and fair. Pr'ythee now, good Vizard.

Vizard. Let me consider a little.-Now love and revenge inspire my politics!

[Aside. [Pauses whilst SIR HARRY walks, singing. Sir H. Pshaw! thou'rt longer studying for a new 292 mistress, than a waiter would be in drawing fifty corks.

Vizard. I design you good wine; you'll therefore bear a little expectation.

Sir H. Ha! say'st thou, dear Vizard ?

Vizard. A girl of nineteen, Sir Harry.

Sir H. Now nineteen thousand blessings light on

thee.

Vizard. Pretty and witty.

Sir H. Ay, ay, but her name, Vizard!

300

Vizard. Her name! yes-she has the softest, whitest hand that e'er was made of flesh and blood; her lips so balmy sweet

Sir H. Well, well, but where shall I find her, man? Vizard. Find her!-but then her foot, Sir Harry! she dances to a miracle.

Sir H. Pr'ythee, don't distract me.

Vizard. Well then, you must know, that this lady is the greatest beauty in town; her name's Angelica: 3 she that passes for her mother is a private bawd, and called the Lady Darling: she goes for a baronet's lady, (no disparagement to your honour, Sir Harry) I assure you.

Sir H. Pshaw, hang my honour! but what street, what house?

Vizard. Not so fast, Sir Harry; you must have my passport for your admittance, and you'll find my recommendation in a line or two will procure you very civil entertainment; I suppose twenty or thirty pieces zhandsomely placed, will gain the point.

336

Sir H. Thou dearest friend to a man in necessity!
Here, sirrah, order my carriage about to St. James's;
I'll walk across the park.
[To his SERVANT.

Enter CLINCHER SENIOR.

Clinch. Here, sirrah, order my coach about to St. James's, I'll walk across the park too-Mr. Vizard, your most devoted-Sir, [To WILDAIR.] I admire the mode of your shoulder-knot; methinks it hangs very emphatically, and carries an air of travel in it: your sword-knot too is most ornamentally modish, and bears a foreign mien. Gentlemen, my brother is just arrived in town; so that, being upon the wing to kiss his hands, I hope you'll pardon this abrupt departure of, gentlemen, your most devoted, and most faithful humble servant. [Exit.

Sir H. Pr'ythee, dost know him?

Vizard. Know him! why, it is Clincher, who was apprentice to my uncle Smuggler, the merchant in the city.

Sir H. What makes him so gay ?

Vizard. Why, he's in mourning.

Sir H. In mourning?

Vizard. Yes, for his father. The kind old man in Hertfordshire t'other day broke his neck a fox-hunt

ing; the son, upon the news, has broke his indentures; whipped from behind the counter into the side-box. He keeps his coach and liveries, brace of geldings, leash of mistresses, talks of nothing but wines, intrigues, plays, fashions, and going to the jubilee.

Sir H. Ha! ha! ha! how many pounds of pulvil must the fellow use in sweetening himself from the 360 smell of hops and tobacco? Faugh!-l' my conscience methought, like Olivia's lover, he stunk of ThamesStreet. But now for Angelica, that's her name: we'll to the prince's chocolate-house, where you shall write my passport. Allons. [Excunt.

SCENE II.

LADY LUREWELL'S Lodgings.

Enter LADY LUREWELL, and her Maid PARLY.

Lady L. Parly, my pocket-book-let me see-Madrid, Paris, Venice, London !-Ay, London! They may talk what they will of the hot countries, but I find love most fruitful under this climatemonth's space have I gained-let me see, imprimis, Colonel Standard.

-In a

Parly. And how will your ladyship manage him? Lady L. As all soldiers should be managed; he shall serve me till I gain my ends, then I'll disband him.

Parly. But he loves you, madam.

Lady L. Therefore I scorn him ;

I hate all that don't love me, and slight all that do; 'Would his whole deluding sex admir'd me,

Thus would I slight them all.

My virgin and unwary innocence
Was wrong'd by faithless man;

But now, glance eyes, plot brain, dissemble face,
Lie tongue, and

Plague the treacherous kind.

Let me survey my captives.

The colonel leads the van; next, Mr. Vizard,
He courts me out of the" Practice of Piety,"
Therefore is a hypocrite;

Then Clincher, he adores me with orangerie,
And is consequently a fool;

Then my old merchant, Alderman Smuggler,

He's a compound of both ;-out of which medley of lovers, if I don't make good diversion-What d'ye think, Parly?

Parly. I think, madam, I'm like to be very virtuous in your service, if you teach me all those tricks that you use to your lovers.

Lady L. You're a fool, child; observe this, that though a woman swear, forswear, lie, dissemble, backbite, be proud, vain, malicious, any thing, if she secures the main chance, she's still virtuous; that's a maxim.

Parly. I can't be persuaded, though, madam, but that you really loved Sir Harry Wildair in Paris.

Lady L. Of all the lovers I ever had, he was my greatest plague, for I could never make him uneasy: I left him involved in a duel upon my account: I long to know whether the fop be killed or not.

Enter COLONEL STANDARD.

Oh lord! no sooner talk of killing, but the soldier is conjured up. You're upon hard duty, colonel, to serve your king, your country, and a mistress too.

Colonel S. The latter, I must confess, is the hardest; for in war, madam, we can be relieved in our duty;