Lady _Grace._ I would every day be as clean as a bride.
Lady _Town._ Why the men say, that's a great step to be made
one----Well now you are drest----pray let's see to what purpose.
Lady _Grace._ I would visit--that is, my real friends; but as little
for form as possible.----I would go to court; sometimes to an assembly,
nay, play at _quadrille_----soberly; I would see all the good plays;
and, (because 'tis the fashion) now and then an opera----but I would
not expire there, for fear I should never go again: and lastly, I can't
say, but for curiosity, if I lik'd my company, I might be drawn in
once to a masquerade! And this, I think, is as far at any woman can
go----soberly.
Lady _Town._ Well! if it had not been for that last piece of sobriety,
I was just going to call for some surfeit water.
Lady _Grace._ Why, don't you think, with the farther aid of
breakfasting, dining, taking the air, supping, sleeping, not to say
a word of devotion, the four and twenty hours might roll over in a
tolerable manner?
Lady _Town._ Tolerable? deplorable! Why, child, all you propose, is but
to endure life, now I want to enjoy it----
_Enter Mrs. ~Trusty~._
_Trus._ Madam, your Ladyship's chair is ready.
Lady _Town._ Have the Footmen their white flambeaux yet? for last night
I was poison'd.
_Trus._ Yes, madam: there were some come in this morning.
[_Exit ~Trusty~._
Lady _Town._ My dear, you will excuse me; but you know my time is so
precious----
Lady _Grace._ That I beg I may not hinder your least enjoyment of it.
Lady _Town._ You will call on me at Lady _Revel_'s?
Lady _Grace._ Certainly.
Lady _Town._ But I am so afraid it will break into your scheme, my dear!
Lady _Grace._ When it does, I will----soberly break from you.
Lady _Town._ Why then 'till we meet again, dear sister, I wish you all
tolerable happiness.
[_Exit Lady ~Town~._
Lady _Grace._ There she goes--dash! into her stream of pleasures!
poor woman! she is really a fine creature! and sometimes infinitely
agreeable! nay, take her out of the madness of this town, rational
in her notions, and easy to live with: but she is so borne down by
this torrent of vanity in vogue, she thinks every hour of her life
is lost that she does not lead at the head of it. What it will end
in, I tremble to imagine----Ha! my brother, and _Manly_ with him! I
guess what they have been talking of----I shall hear it in my turn, I
suppose, but it won't become me to be inquisitive.
[_Exit Lady ~Grace~._
_Enter Lord ~Townly~ and ~Manly~._
Lord _Town._ I did not think my Lady _Wronghead_ had such a notable
brain: tho' I can't say she was so very wise, in trusting this silly
girl you call _Myrtilla_, with the secret.
_Man._ No, my Lord, you mistake me, had the girl been in the secret,
perhaps I had never come at it myself.
Lord _Town._ Why I thought you said the girl writ this letter, to you,
and that my Lady _Wronghead_ sent it inclos'd to my sister?
_Man._ If you please to give me leave, my Lord----the fact is
thus.--This inclos'd letter to Lady _Grace_ was a real original one,
written by this girl, to the Count we have been talking of: the
Count drops it, and my Lady _Wronghead_ finds it: then only changing
the cover, she seals it up as a letter of business, just written by
herself, to me: and pretending to be in a hurry, gets this innocent
girl to write the direction, for her.
Lord _Town._ Oh! then the girl did not know she was superscribing a
billet-doux of her own to you?
_Man._ No, my Lord; for when I first question'd her about the
direction, she own'd it immediately: but when I shew'd her that the
letter to the Count was within it, and told her how it came into my
hands, the poor creature was amazed and thought herself betray'd both
by the Count and my Lady----in short, upon this discovery the girl
and I grew so gracious, that she has let me into some transactions, in
my Lady _Wronghead_'s family, which, with my having a careful eye over
them, may prevent the ruin of it.
Lord _Town._ You are very generous to be so solicitous for a Lady that
has given you so much uneasiness.
_Man._ But I will be most unmercifully reveng'd of her: for I will do
her the greatest friendship in the world----against her will.
Lord _Town._ What an uncommon philosophy art thou master of? to make
even thy malice a virtue?
_Man._ Yet, my Lord, I assure you, there is no one action of my life
gives me more pleasure than your approbation of it.
Lord _Town._ Dear _Charles_! my heart's impatient, 'till thou art
nearer to me: and as a proof that I have long wished thee so: while
your daily conduct has chosen rather to deserve than ask my sister's
favour; I have been as secretly industrious to make her sensible of
your merit: and since on this occasion you have open'd your whole
heart to me, 'tis now with equal pleasure, I assure you, we have both
succeeded----she is as firmly yours----
_Man._ Impossible! you flatter me!
Lord _Town._ I am glad you think it flattery: but she herself shall
prove it none: she dines with us alone: when the servants are
withdrawn, I'll open a conversation, that shall excuse my leaving you
together--_O! Charles!_ had I, like thee, been cautious in my choice,
what melancholy hours had this heart avoided!
_Man._ No more of that, I beg, my Lord----
Lord _Town._ But 'twill, at least, be some relief to my anxiety
(however barren of content the state has been to me) to see so near a
friend and sister happy in it: your harmony of life will be an instance
how much the choice of temper is preferable to beauty.
While your soft hours in mutual kindness move,
You'll reach by virtue what I lost by love.
[_Exeunt._
+ACT+ IV. +SCENE+ I.
+SCENE+, _Mrs._ Motherly's _House_.
_Enter Mrs. ~Motherly~, meeting ~Myrtilla~._
_Moth._ So, niece! where is it possible you can have been these six
hours?
_Myr._ O! Madam! I have such a terrible story to tell you!
_Moth._ A story! ods my life! what have you done with the Count's note
of five hundred pounds I sent you about? is it safe? is it good? is it
security?
_Myr._ Yes, yes, it is safe: but for its goodness----mercy on us! I
have been in a fair way to be hang'd about it.
_Moth._ The dickens! has the rogue of a Count play'd us another trick
then?
_Myr._ You shall hear, Madam; when I came to Mr. _Cash_, the Banker's,
and shewed him his note for five hundred pounds, payable to the Count,
or order, in two months--he looked earnestly upon it, and desired me to
step into the inner room, while he examined his books----after I had
staid about ten minutes, he came in to me----claps to the door, and
charges me with a constable for forgery.
_Moth._ Ah poor soul! and how didst thou get off?
_Myr._ While I was ready to sink in this condition, I begg'd him to
have a little patience, 'till I could send for Mr. _Manly_, whom he
knew to be a gentleman of worth and honour, and who, I was sure, would
convince him, whatever fraud might be in the note, that I was myself an
innocent abus'd woman----and as good luck would have it, in less than
half an hour Mr. _Manly_ came----so, without mincing the matter, I
fairly told him upon what design the Count had lodg'd that note in your
hands, and in short, laid open the whole scheme he had drawn us into,
to make our fortune.
_Moth._ The devil you did!
_Myr._ Why how do you think it was possible I could any otherwise
make Mr. _Manly_ my friend, to help me out of the scrape I was in? To
conclude, he soon made Mr. _Cash_ easy, and sent away the Constable;
nay farther promis'd me, if I would trust the note in his hands, he
would take care it should be be fully paid before it was due, and at
the same time would give me an ample revenge upon the Count; so that
all you have to consider now, Madam, is, whether you think yourself
safer in the Count's hands, or Mr. _Manly_'s.
_Moth._ Nay, nay, child; there is no choice in the matter! Mr. _Manly_
may be a friend indeed, if any thing in our power can make him so.
_Myr._ Well, madam, and now pray how stand matters at home here? What
has the Count done with the ladies?
_Moth._ Why every thing he has a mind to do, by this time, I suppose.
He is in as high favour with Miss, as he is with my Lady.
_Myr._ Pray, where are the ladies?
_Moth._ Rattling abroad in their own coach, and the well-bred Count
along with them: they have been scouring all the shops in town over,
buying fine things and new clothes from morning to night: they have
made one voyage already, and have brought home such a cargo of bawbles
and trumpery----mercy on the poor man that's to pay for them!
_Myr._ Did not the young Squire go with them!
_Moth._ No, no; Miss said, truly he would but disgrace their party: so
they even left him asleep by the kitchen fire.
_Myr._ Has he not asked after me all this while? for I had a sort of an
assignation with him.
_Moth._ O yes! he has been in a bitter taking about it. At last his
disappointment grew so uneasy, that he fairly fell a crying; so to
quiet him, I sent one of the maids and _John Moody_ abroad with him to
shew him----the lions and the Monument. Ods me! there he is, just come
home again----you may have business with him----so I'll even turn you
together.
_Enter Squire ~Richard~._
Squ. _Rich._ Soah! soah! Mrs. _Myrtilla_, where han yow been aw this
day, forsooth?
_Myr._ Nay, if you go to that, Squire, where have you been, pray?
Squ. _Rich._ Rich. Why, when I fun' at yow were no loikly to come
whoam, I were ready to hong my sel----so _John Moody_, and I, and one
o' your lasses have been----Lord knows where----a seeing o' the soights.
_Myr._ Well and pray what have you seen, Sir?
Squ. _Rich._ Flesh! I cawnt tell, not I----seen every thing I think.
First there we went o' top o' the what d'ye call it? there, the great
huge stone post, up the rawnd and rawnd stairs, that twine and twine
about, just an as thof it were a cork screw.
_Myr._ O, the Monument! well, and was it not a fine sight from the top
of it?
Squ. _Rich._ Sight, Miss! I know no'--I saw nowght but smoak and brick
housen, and steeple tops----then there was such a mortal ting-tang of
bells, and rumbling of carts and coaches, and then the folks under one
look'd so small, and made such a hum, and a buz, it put me in mind of
my mother's great glass bee-hive in our garden in the country.
_Myr._ I think, Master, you give a very good account of it.
Squ. _Rich._ Ay! but I did no like it: for my head--my head--began to
turn----so I trundled me dawn stairs ugain like a round trencher.
_Myr._ Well! but this was not all you saw, I suppose?
Squ. _Rich._ Noa! noa! we went after that and saw the lions, and I
lik'd them better by hawlf; they are pure grim devils; hoh, hoh! I
touke a stick, and gave one of them such a poke o' the noase----I
believe he would ha' snapt my head off, an he could ha' got me. Hoh!
hoh! hoh!
_Myr._ Well, Master, when you and I go abroad, I'll shew you prettier
sights than these----there's a masquerade to-morrow.
Squ. _Rich._ O laud! ay! they say that's a pure thing for _Merry
Andrews_, and those sort of comical mummers----and the Count tells me,
that there lads and lasses may jig their tails, and eat, and drink,
without grudging, all night-lung.
_Myr._ What would you say now, if I should get you a ticket and go
along with you?
Squ. _Rich._ Ah dear!
_Myr._ But have a care, Squire, the fine ladies there are terribly
tempting; look well to your heart, or ads me! they'll whip it up in the
trip of a minute.
Squ. _Rich._ Ay, but they can't thoa----soa let 'um look to themselves,
an' ony of 'um falls in love with me--mayhap they had as good be quiet.
_Myr._ Why sure you would not refuse a fine lady, would you?
Squ. _Rich._ Ay, but I would tho' unless it were--one at I know of.
_Myr._ Oh! oh! then you have left your heart in the country, I find?
Squ. _Rich._ Noa, noa, my heart----eh----my heart e'nt awt o' this room.
_Myr._ I am glad you have it about you, however.
Squ. _Rich._ Nay, mahap not soa neather, somebody else may have it, 'at
you little think of.
_Myr._ I can't imagine what you mean!
Squ. _Rich._ Noa! why doan't you know how many folks there is in this
room, naw?
_Myr._ Very fine, Master, I see you have learnt the town gallantry
already.
Squ. _Rich._ Why doan't you believe 'at I have a kindness for you then?
_Myr._ Fy! fy! Master, how you talk! beside you are too young to think
of a wife. Squ. _Rich._ Ay but I caunt help thinking o' yow, for all
that.
_Myr._ How! why sure, Sir, you don't pretend to think of me in a
dishonourable way?
Squ. _Rich._ Nay, that's as you see good----I did no' think 'at you
would ha' thowght of me for a husband, mayhap; unless I had means in
my own hands; and feyther allows me but half a crown a week, as yet a
while.
_Myr._ Oh! when I like any body, 'tis not want of money will make me
refuse them.
Squ. _Rich._ Well, that's just my mind now; for 'an I like a girl,
Miss, I would take her in her smuck.
_Myr._ Ay, Master, now you speak like a man of honour: this shews
something of a true heart in you.
Squ. _Rich._ Ay, and a true heart you'll find me; try me when you will.
_Myr._ Hush! hush! here's your papa come home, and my aunt with him.
Squ. _Rich._ A devil rive 'em, what do they come naw for?
_Myr._ When you and I get to the masquerade, you shall see what I'll
say to you.