Lady _Grace._ Admits of no excuse against the general joy.
[_Gives her hand to ~Manly~._
_Man._ A joy like mine----despairs of words to speak it.
Lord _Town._ O _Manly_! how the name of friend endears the brother!
[_Embracing him._
_Man._ Your words, my Lord, will warn me to deserve them.
_Enter a Servant._
_Serv._ My Lord, the apartments are full of masqueraders----And some
people of quality there desire to see your Lordship and my Lady.
Lady _Town._ I thought, my Lord, your orders had forbid this revelling?
Lord _Town._ No, my dear, _Manly_ has desir'd their admittance
to-night, it seems, upon a particular occasion----Say we will wait upon
them instantly.
[_Exit Servant._
Lady _Town._ I shall be but ill company to them.
Lord _Town._ No matter: not to see them, would on a sudden to be too
particular. Lady _Grace_ will assist you to entertain them.
Lady _Town._ With her, my Lord, I shall be always easy----Sister, to
your unerring virtue, I commit the guidance of my future days.
Never the paths of pleasure more to tread,
But where your guarded innocence shall lead.
For in the marriage-state the world must own,
Divided happiness was never known.
To make it mutual, nature points the way:
Let husbands govern: gentle wives obey.
[_Exit._
_The +SCENE+ opening to another apartment discovers a great number
of people in masquerade talking all together, and playing one
upon another: Lady ~Wronghead~ as a shepherdess; ~Jenny~, as
a nun; the Squire as a running footman; and the Count in a
~Domino~. After some time, Lord and Lady ~Townly~, with Lady
~Grace~, enter to them unmask'd._
Lord _Town._ So! here's a great deal of company.
Lady _Grace._ A great many people, my Lord, but no company----as you'll
find----for here's one now, that seems to have a mind to entertain us.
[_A mask, after some affected gesture, makes up to
Lady ~Townly~._
_Mask._ Well, dear Lady _Townly_, shan't we see you, by-and-by?
Lady _Town._ I don't know you, Madam.
_Mask._ Don't you, seriously?
[_In a squeaking tone._
Lady _Town._ Not I, indeed.
_Mask._ Well, that's charming; but can't you guess?
Lady _Town._ Yes, I could guess wrong, I believe.
_Mask._ That's what I'd have you to do.
Lady _Town._ But, Madam, if I don't know you at all, is not that as
well?
_Mask._ Ay, but you do know me.
Lady _Town._ Dear sister, take her off o' my hands; there's no bearing
this.
[_Apart._
Lady _Grace._ I fancy I know you, Madam.
_Mask._ I fancy you don't: what makes you think you do?
Lady _Grace._ Because I have heard you talk.
_Mask._ Ay, but you don't know my voice, I'm sure.
Lady _Grace._ There is something in your wit and humour, Madam, so
very much your own, it is impossible you can be any body but my Lady
_Trifle_.
_Mask._ [Unmasking.] Dear Lady Grace! thou art a charming creature.
Lady _Grace._ Is there no body else we know here?
_Mask._ O dear, yes! I have found out fifty already.
Lady _Grace._ Pray who are they?
_Mask._ O, charming company! there's Lady _Ramble_----Lady
_Riot_----Lady _Kill-Care_----Lady _Squander_----Lady _Strip_----Lady
_Pawn_----and the Dutchess of _Single-Guinea_.
Lord _Town._ Is it not hard, my dear! that }
people of sense and probity are sometimes }
forc'd to seem fond of such company? } _Apart._
}
Lady _Town._ My Lord, it will always give }
me pain to remember their acquaintance, but }
none to drop it immediately. }
Lady _Grace._ But you have given us no account of the men, Madam. Are
they good for any thing?
_Mask._ O yes! you must know, I always find out them by their
endeavours to find out me.
Lady _Grace._ Pray who are they?
_Mask._ Why, for your men of tip-top wit and pleasure, about
town, there's my Lord----_Bite_----Lord _Arch-wag_----Young
_Brazen-wit_----Lord _Timberdown_----Lord _Joint-Life_----and----Lord
_Mortgage_. Then for your pretty fellows only----there's Sir
_Powder-Peacock_----Lord _Lapwing_----_Billy Magpye_----Beau
_Frightful_----Sir _Paul Plaster-crown_, and the Marquis of
_Monkey-man_.
Lady _Grace._ Right; and these are fine gentlemen that never want
elbow-room at an assembly.
_Mask._ The rest I suppose, by their tawdry hired habits are tradesmens
wives, inns-of-court beaus, _Jews_, and kept mistresses.
Lord _Town._ An admirable collection!
Lady _Grace._ Well, of all our public diversions, I am amaz'd how this,
that is so very expensive, and has so little to shew for it, can draw
so much company together.
Lord _Town._ O! if it were not expensive, the better sort would not
come into it: and because money can purchase a ticket, the common
people scorn to be kept out of it.
_Mask._ Right, my Lord, poor Lady Grace! I suppose you are under the
same astonishment, that an opera should draw so much good company.
Lady _Grace._ Not at all, Madam; it is an easier matter sure to gratify
the ear, than the understanding. But have you no notion, Madam, of
receiving pleasure and profit at the same time?
_Mask._ Oh! quite none! unless it be sometimes winning a great stake;
laying down a Vole, sans prendre may come up, to the profitable
pleasure you were speaking of.
Lord _Town._ You seem attentive, my dear? }
}
Lady _Town._ I am, my Lord; and amaz'd at } _Apart._
my own follies so strongly painted in another }
woman. }
Lady _Grace._ But see, my Lord, we had best adjourn our debate, I
believe, for here are some masks that seem to have a mind to divert
other people as well as themselves.
Lord _Town._ The least we can do is to give them a clear stage then.
[_A dance of masks here in various characters._
This was a favour extraordinary.
_Enter ~Manly~._
O _Manly_! I thought we had lost you.
_Man._ I ask pardon, my Lord; but I have been oblig'd to look a little
after my country family.
Lord _Town._ Well, pray, what have you done with them?
_Man._ They are all in the house here, among the masks, my Lord; if
your Lordship has curiosity enough, to step into a lower apartment, in
three minutes I'll give you an ample account of them.
Lord _Town._ O! by all means: we'll wait upon you.
[_The scene shuts upon the masks to smaller apartments._
_~Manly~ re-enters with Sir ~Francis Wronghead~._
Sir _Fran._ Well, cousin, you have made my very hair stand on an end!
Waunds! if what you tell me be true, I'll stuff my whole family into a
stage-coach, and trundle them into the country on _Monday_ morning.
_Man._ Stick to that, Sir, and we may yet find a way to redeem all: in
the mean time, place yourself behind this screen, and for the truth of
what I have told you take the evidence of your own senses: but be sure
you keep close till I give you the signal.
Sir _Fran._ Sir! I'll warrant you----Ah! my Lady, my Lady _Wronghead!_
What a bitter business have you drawn me into!
_Man._ Hush! to your post; here comes one couple already.
_Sir ~Francis~ retires behind the screen._
[_Exit ~Manly~._
_Enter ~Myrtilla~ with Squire ~Richard~._
Squ. _Rich._ What! is this the doctor's chamber?
_Myr._ Yes, yes, speak softly.
Squ. _Rich._ Well, but where is he?
_Myr._ He'll be ready for us presently, but he says he can't do us the
good turn, without witnesses: so, when the Count and your sister come,
you know he and you may be fathers for one another.
Squ. _Rich._ Well, well, tit for tat! ay, ay, that will be friendly.
_Myr._ And see! here they come.
_Enter Count ~Basset~, and Miss ~Jenny~._
Count _Bas._ So, so, here's your brother, and his bride, before us, my
dear.
_Jenny._ Well, I vow my heart's at my mouth still! I thought I should
never have got rid of Mama! but while she stood gaping on the dance, I
gave her the slip! Lawd! do but feel how it beats here.
Count _Bas._ O the pretty flutterer! I protest, my dear, you have put
mine into the same palpitation!
_Jenny._ Ah! you say so----but let's see now----O lud! I vow it thumps
purely--well, well, I see it will do, and so where's the parson?
Count _Bas._ Mrs. _Myrtilla_, will you be so good as to see if the
doctor's ready for us?
_Myr._ He only staid for you, Sir: I'll fetch him immediately.
[_Exit ~Myrtilla~._
_Jenny._ Pray, Sir, am not I to take place of Mama, when I am a
countess?
Count _Bas._ No doubt on't, my dear.
_Jenny._ O lud how her back will be up then, when she meets me at an
assembly! or you and I in our coach and six, at _Hyde-Park_ together!
Count _Bas._ Ay, or when she hears the box-keepers, at an Opera, call
out--_The Countess of_ Basset's _servants_!
_Jenny._ Well, I say it, that will be delicious! And then, mayhap, to
have a fine gentleman with a star and what-d'ye-call-um ribbon, lead
me to my chair, with his hat under his arm all the way! Hold up, says
the chairman, and so, says I, my Lord, your humble servant. I suppose,
Madam, says he, we shall see you at my Lady _Quadrille_'s! Ay, ay,
to be sure, my Lord, says I----So in swops me, with my hoop stuff'd
up to my forehead! and away they trot, swing! swang! with my tassels
dangling, and my flambeaux blazing, and----Oh! it's a charming thing to
be a woman of quality!
Count _Bas._ Well, I see that plainly, my dear, there's ne'er a
Dutchess of 'em all will become an equipage like you.
_Jenny._ Well, well, do you find equipage, and I'll find airs, I
warrant you.
[_Sings._
Squ. _Rich._ Troth! I think this masquerading's the merriest game that
ever I saw in my life! Thof, in my mind, and there were but a little
wrestling, or cudgel playing naw, it would help it hugely. But what
a-rope makes the parson stay so?
Count _Bas._ Oh! here he comes, I believe.
_Enter ~Myrtilla~ with a constable._
_Const._ Well, Madam, pray which is the party that wants a spice of my
office here?
_Myr._ That's the gentleman.
[_Pointing to the Count._
Count _Bas._ Hey-day! what in masquerade, doctor?
_Const._ Doctor! Sir, I believe you have mistaken your man: but if you
are called Count _Basset_, I have a _billet-doux_ in my hand for you,
that will set you right presently.
Count _Bas._ What the devil's the meaning of all this?
_Const._ Only my Lord Chief Justice's warrant against you for forgery,
Sir.
Count _Bas._ Blood and thunder!
_Const._ And so, Sir, if you please to pull off your fool's frock
there, I'll wait upon you to the next Justice of peace immediately.
_Jenny._ O dear me! what's the matter?
[_Trembling._
Count _Bas._ O! nothing, only a masquerading frolic, my dear.
Squ. _Rich._ Oh oh! is that all?
Sir _Fran._ No, Sirrah! that is not all.
[_Sir ~Francis~ coming softly behind the Squire, knocks him
down with his cane._
_Enter ~Manly~._
Squ. _Rich._ O lawd! O lawd! he has beaten my brains out!
_Man._ Hold, hold, Sir _Francis_, have a little mercy upon my poor
godson, pray, Sir.
Sir _Fran._ Waunds, cousin, I han't patience.
Count _Bas._ _Manly_! nay, then I'm blown to the devil.
[_Aside._
Squ. _Rich._ O my head! my head!
_Enter Lady ~Wronghead~._
Lady _Wrong._ What's the matter here, gentlemen? for heav'ns sake!
what, are you murd'ring my children?
_Con._ No, no, Madam! no murder! only a little suspicion of felony,
that's all.
Sir _Fran._ [_To ~Jenny~._] And for you, Mrs. _Hot-upon't_, I could
find in my heart to make you wear that habit, as long as you live,
you jade you. Do you know, hussy, that you were within two minutes of
marrying a pickpocket?
Count _Bas._ So, so, all's out, I find.
[_Aside._
_Jenny._ O the mercy! why, pray, Papa, is not the Count a man of
quality then?
Sir _Fran._ O yes! one of the unhang'd ones, it seems.
Lady _Wrong._ [_Aside._] Married! O the confident thing! There was his
urgent business then----slighted for her! I han't patience!--and for
ought I know, I have been all this while making a friendship with a
highwayman!
_Man._ Mr. _Constable_, secure that door there.
Sir _Fran._ Ah, my Lady! my Lady! this comes of your journey to
_London_! but now I have a frolick of my own, Madam; therefore pack up
your trumpery this very night, for the moment my horses are able to
crawl, you and your brats shall make a journey into the country again.
Lady _Wrong._ Indeed you are mistaken, Sir _Francis_----I shall not
stir out of town yet, I promise you.