Howard.. What! were you Bobadil! Were you the little smart, well-made lieutenant?

Albina. I was young Herbert, Sir; and I bless the disguise, not only for convincing me of the sincerity of my lover, but also for introducing me to my father-I hope you don't blame me, Sir. (To Mandeville.)

Sir Sol. He blame you! No: Howard has most reason. What will your husband say to your strutting about in boy's clothes?

Howard. Say! that I wish all women would wear the breeches before marriage, instead of afterwards.

Copsley. Oh, Madam! how shall I thank you! ? You have saved me and my family from ruin. Cicely. You have, Madam! and we are all gratitude.

Albina. This is your benefactor: you are to thank my father, not me. If you wish to do me a favor—why, there is one

Cicely. Oh, name it, Madam! name it!

Albina. Why, it rather concerns Sir Solomon than myself. Pray be kind enough to have the old curtain repaired, lest he should again wish to take cover behind it. And likewise, do send me some of the straw. I mean to be married in a straw hat and I'll have one manufactured out of Sir Solomon's stubble!

--

Howard. One! We'll have a dozen! And our children shall wear them, in honor of their great-uncle's gallantry!

Sir Sol. Gallantry! Psha! I've something better to think of than women.

Howard. Indeed you have not. Come, come, Uncle-rail at the sex as much as you like, you must confess, that life is a blank without them;

and the gaming-table, the bottle, and the sports of the field, are all so many substitutes-shadows! Woman is the true substance, after all—and, compared to her, all other objects are as the glow-worm to the sun! It may dazzle the sight but it can never warm the heart! Don't you think so, Albina !

Albina. I do, indeed. Women are certainly most superior creatures; and, if by accident they have any faults, men ought not to see them-at least, I hope that will be my case to-night. I have done and talked a great many foolish things: but having their hands and full pardon (Standing between Mandeville and Howard.), let me have yours and Albina will be the happiest of wives, and the most grateful of daughters.

THE END.

EPILOGUE:

WRITTEN BY MILES PETER ANDREWS, ES2.

SPOKEN BY MRS. JORDAN.

THE world's a stage-and man has seven ages:
So Shakespeare writes - king of dramatic sages;
But he forgot to tell you in his plan,

That Woman plays her part as well as Man.

First, how her infant heart with triumph swells,
When the red coral shakes its silver bells! —
She, like young statesmen, as the rattle rings,
Leaps at the sound, and struts in leading-strings.
Next, little Miss, in pin-a-fore so trim,
With nurse so noisy-with Mama so prim-
Eager to tell you all she's taught to utter-
Lisps as she grasps the allotted bread and butter;
Type of her sex-who, though no longer young,
Hold every thing with ease, except their tongue.

A school-girl then-she curls her hair in papers,
And mimics Father's gout, and Mother's vapours;
Tramples alike on customs, and on toes,

And whispers all she hears to all she knows:
"Betty!" she cries," it comes into my head,
"Old maids grow cross because their cats are dead;

"My governess has been in such a fuss

"About the death of our old tabby puss

"She wears black stockings-Ha! Ha!-What a pother, "'Cause one old cat's in mourning for another!"

The Child of Nature-free from pride or pomp,
And sure to please though nothing but a romp!
Next riper Miss, who, nature more disclosing,
Now finds some traits of art are interposing;
And with blue laughing eyes behind her fan,
Firsts acts her part-with that great actor, Man!

Behold her now an ogling, vain coquette,
Catching male gudgeons in her silver'd net :
All things revers'd the neck, cropt close and bare,
Scarce feels th' incumbrance of a single hair;
Whilst the thick forehead tresses, frizzled full,
Rival the tufted locks that grace the bull.-
Then comes that sober character· a Wife,
With all the dear, distracting cares of life;
A thousand cards, a thousand joys extend,
For what may not upon a card depend?
Though Justice in the morn claim fifty pounds,
Five hundred won at night may heal the wounds!
Now she'll snatch half a glance at Opera, Ball,
A meteor trac'd by none, though seen by all;
Till spousy finds, while anxious to immure her,
A patent coffin only can secure her!

At last the Dowager—in ancient flounces, With snuff and spectacles, this age denounces· And thus she moralises [Speaks like an old woman.] "How bold and forward each young flirt appears! Courtship, in my time, lasted seven years— "Now seven little months suffice of course, "For courting, marrying, scolding, and divorce! "What with their truss'd-up shapes and pantaloons, "Dress occupies the whole of honey-moons:

They say we have no souls- but what more odd is, "Nor men, nor women now, have any bodies!

"When I was young-my heart was always tender,
"And would, to every spouse I had, surrender;
"Their wishes to refuse I never durst-

"And my fourth died as happy as my first."
Truce to such splenetic and rash designs,
And let us mingle candour with our lines.
In all the stages of domestic life,

As child, as sister, parent, friend, and wife,
Woman, the source of every fond employ,
Softens affliction, and enlivens joy.

What is your boast, male rulers of the land?
How cold and cheerless all you can command!
Vain ambition - vain your wealth and power,

your

Unless kind woman share your raptur'd hour;
Unless, 'midst all the glare of pageant art,
She adds her smile, and triumphs in your heart.

WOOD AND INNES, PRINTERS, POPPIN'S-COURT, FLEET-STREET.

A COMEDY,

IN FIVE ACTS.

AS PERFORMED AT THE

THEATRE-ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN.

By FREDERICK REYNOLDS.

THE FIFTH EDITION.

LONDON:

Printed by A. Strahan, Printers Street;

FOR T. N. LONGMAN AND O. REES, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

1800.

[Price Two Shillings.]