ACT III.

SCENE.-An Apartment in Delauny House.
Enter Mrs. SAPLING and HONORIA.

Mrs. Sapling. Pofitively, Honoria, I will not liften to you. You really must marry Mr. Privilege-and foon--very foon !-for my own wedding is gone by, and I begin to want fomething new dreadfully.

Honoria. Nay, Madam: when I've told you that from early life, my heart has been another's

Mrs. Sapling. Simple thing!-fhe don't know that hearts have been out, ever fince pin-money and feparate establishments came in. And furely you don't compare the elegant Mr. Privilege with this barbarous failor gentleman?-In the first place, the man has no voice.

Honoria. No, Ma'am: no more has Mr. Sapling.

Mrs. Sapling. No voice!-my husband!-
Oh, I understand-you mean that I play the first
inftrument?-Vaftly well!--and fo you fhall find,
Ma'am-though a widow-though not quite fo
young and ftriking as Mifs Honoria-there is
now-a-days this confolation-old women never go
by-and whilft my voice lafts, neither his nor
yours fhall be heard, I promife you.

Honoria. No, Madam: and till my guardian
Thall

сг

4

fhall affert his rights, I have no hope of happiness or Henry.

[Exit. Mrs. Sapling. Nene-if 'twere only for his infolent infinuations. Brute!- monfter! - to fpeak fuch home truths-to fay I dreaded feeing my husband on horfeback, because his fortune was in annuity, when every body knows my love for poor little Sappy is fo violent-fỏ

Enter PAUL POSTPONE and SAPLING.

Paul. I fay the fault's yours-and fo I'll tell my client again and again.

Sapling. Then I fay you are a bafe flanderous perfon.

Mrs. Sapling. Mercy!What's the matter, gentlemen?

Paul. The matter, Ma'am !-Why the affizes have began; and owing to this feducing deceiver, our only witnefs has efcap'd.-You know it, fir, You bade me put it off till day-light; and now, for the first time, I fhall be fet down as an idle, diffipated

Sapling. And fo you ought-for the mufic didn't content you-no-you muft dance alfo-and play billiards alfo-and ber against time alfo.

Paul. Don't you talk of betting against time! Didn't you offer to trot on your own feet against poft horses, and draw chaifes with your own hands against dray horses ?-In fact, didn't you fo completely prove yourself a four-legg'd animal, that at fupper, when you afk'd for ham and fowl, the com. pany begg'd you'd stand on no ceremony, but call for hay and corn as if you were alone?

Enter SERVANT.

Servant. Sir, we have traced young Mr. Sapling

ΤΣ

ling and the lady-they took the road towards Ivy Farm-and Mifs Lauretta is difguifed in boy's clothes.

Paul. Difguis'd in boy's clothes!

Servant. Yes, fir-in a green coat-white waiftcoat-round hat

Paul (Writing it down in a memorandum book). Enough; that, with her effeminate appearance, is full defcription.Shew the way, and, free from diffipated company, I'll fecure her.(Looking at SAPLING.) Madam, yours.-If at any time you want legal redress-and with fuch a fashionable hufband, the thing's not at all unlikely-there's my card: neat houfeind charming accommodation for you and the female part of the family;-but for the male-xtremely forry, but there's no ftable on the premises.

[Exit. Sapling. Stable! Make me out a four leg'd animal! -Excufe me, my dear-but nobody shall take fuch liberties with me but yourself. Befides, to fuppofe I'd even name a horse, when

Mrs. Sapling. Oh, the odious creatures!-for Heaven's lake, don't let them make me a difconfolate widow a fecond time, Mr. Sapling.

Sapling. They ha'n't. You sha'n't be a widow, my darling and what's more, Honoria fhall be a wife-fhe fhall marry Privilege directly; and as for Mr. Henry-leave him to me I've laid a train that will blow him out of water.

Mrs. Sapling. A train!

Sapling. Mum! He keeps a lady.-Robert Grange, a Yorkshireman, informs me he keeps a coufin of his in London; fo what do you think I've done?-fent Robert off exprefs; bid him tell his coufin of Henry's love affair with Honoria-and then you know, down comes her ladyfhip-she gives it him one way-Honoria another-Robert another

Mrs. Sapling (Laughing). So they do.-Poor wretch!-What will become of him?

Sapling. Aye he may ftand against the cannon's roar; but two jealous women, back'd by a Yorkshireman-damme, the rock of Gibraltar could not refift their artillery.

Mrs. Sapling. Oh delightful!-Mr. Privilege is now in the park; and I'll immediately inform him. But though this is very well for fuch women as Honoria and her felf-created ladyship; it won't do in fashionable life-you'll never find me jealous, Mr. Sapling.

Sapling. No-nor me, my dear. When I hint that you fometimes fpeak and look too kindly on your admirers-it isn't jealousy I-ao-it's pity -general pity for mankind.-I with you to be merciful, and spare thofe murdering smiles

Mrs. Sapling. Do you?-Well! Perhaps I will be merciful-adieu! You really improve every hour, Mr. Sapling. [Exit fmiling.

Sapling. I do!-I'm finifh'd!-it's very odd, though if I wer'n't convinc'd that jealoufy was out of fashion, I fhould be femetimes like Othello -quite black in the face with it!-tor here's Mr. Privilege-how can I tell but he may go on pitying him, till every body pities me. Very well! -I know how to be even with her-I can go hunting and break my neck at any time.

Enter GROOM.

Groom, Sir!-Sir !-Your favourite hunterSapling. Huh!-lower-or your mistress may. hear you.

Groom. Sir, your poor mare Arabella, is fo low fpirited for want of hunting, that I do think the next time I take her to the river, fhe'll coolly lay down and drown herself.

Sapling..

Sapling. Poor Arabella!-she's a charming goer; and if your miftrefs would give me an opportunity, William-but no-fhe's fo loving-fo dutiful-fo conftant

Groom. Ah!-it's a thousand pities, fir-bdt perhaps mistress mayn't be always fo, fir.

Sapling. No!-Why not, fir ?-Have you heard any thing?

Groom. Not at prefent, fir-but I hope for the

best.

Sapling. You do; do you ?-Leave the room. -No-ftop-follow me to the library, and I'll give you a prefcription for the mare:-and as to your wifhing your mafter to he a; nɔ, fir, I am fufficiently fashionable without that embellish

ment.

[Exeunt.

SCENE.-A lone Farm-Houfe, with much marked
Defolation around it.

Enter HENRY SAPLING and LAURETTA ST. ORME.
LAURETTA is difguijed in Boy's Cloaths.

Henry. Come, come, cheer up.-Look-yon'der's Ivy Farm-the lone fequefter'd house we are in fearch of;-and thus difguis'd, and introduc'd as fervant to the farmer

Lauretta. Aye: but the time-the time !think in a few short hours, my father will be fummon'd to the awful scene, and if he bleffes not the daughter who preferves him, he'll curfe the parricide whole rafhnefs has deftroy'd him.-Oh! I can't bear the recollection. Hide me from heaven, the world, and from myself.

Henry. No-I'll only hide you from your ene mies-Hufh-ftand afide-fomebody approaches. (They retire behind the wing)

C4

Enter