BETWEEN A FATHER AND DAUGHTER. BY COLLY CIBBER. Sir Charles. Well, child, how did you like your en tertainment yesterday? Mifs. Why really, Sir, as I never was at a wedding: before, it threw me into a more ferious way of thinking than I could have imagined, Sir Charles. What! It put you in mind, I fuppofe, of how long it might probably be to your own wedding? Now I should be glad to know what fort of companion,. you would chufe to find your happiness at home with. Mifs. If I were left to my choice, Sir, I would ra ther pass my time with a plain man of good sense and good nature, than the handfomeft vain rake, who would probably like no body fo well as himself; or with the finest flimfy coxcomb of quality that ever had ten thou fand a year thrown away upon him. Sir Charles. Softly, foftly, madam; fuppofe you had this man of your own making, pray which scheme of happiness do you think the majority of your sex would more probably envy, theirs or yours? Mijs. She must be a fine lady, indeed, that only marries to be envy'd! But, thank heaven! that's a grandeur of foul I am not yet got up to. Nor could I envy a fultanefs, hung with diamonds, that were to be ftrangled in a filver bow-string, or poisoned in a golden cup; for fuch, and no better, have been the miferable preferments of many a modern fine lady. Now, Sir, the plain scheme of a rational happiness needs none of thefe trappings and trumpery to keep it in coun tenance "One precious hour of mutual happiness is worth a "whole eternity without it!" Well, Sir, you may lift up your eyes as wonderfully as you please, but what you smile at, you will find, has made me ferious. Sir Charles. Well, madam, pray what advantage will your way of talking draw from it? And why are you to fuppofe any of your acquaintance would receive a man that your ladyship would turn up your nofe at? Mifs. Becaufe, Sir, I fee fo many of them repent of their hafty happiness every day. Dear papa! do but confider what difmal doings there has been among the the married couples in my time, what fad ftories have been told all over the town of them? How many fine creatures have been sacrificed to fine gentlemen without principles? To great eftates without the leaft comfortable enjoyment of them? To paffionate lovers, without defire or concern whether the bride had, or had not, any one bleffing above her fortune to bestow upon them? What tinfel qualities then must these poor creatures have been drawn in by, to have repofed their whole happiness of life in them? Sir Charles. Nay, there has been fad work among 'em, that's certain. Mifs. But, as yet, we are talking without book; for you have neither forbid, nor enjoined me any thing. You have not fo much as given me a hint that this or that perfon in the world is the man you have a mind fhould, or fhould not be well with me. Sir Charles. That may be, perhaps, becaufe I am as hard to please as yourself; I have looked upon feveral with that view, but ftill- fo many men, fo many objections. Mifs. Well, Sir, I dare fay we fhall both be in favour of the fame man; and therefore I have but one negative favour to beg of you. Sir Charles. That would be hard indeed to deny you: But come, what is it? Mifs. Only this, Sir, that you will never recommend a libertine wit, or a great estate with a great coxcomb, to me. Sir Charles. You need not have taken this precaution, child; for I know your taste too well to fuppofe either of them would go down with you. Mifs. I am fatisfied. Sir Charles. And now, my dear, you must give mc leave to offer a negative preliminary on my part. Mifs. Don't be fo ceremoniously diffident, good Sir, for I am fure I fhall come into it. Sir Charles. Give me then your honest word (but remember my good opinion of you for ever hangs upon your keeping it) that you will never engage in a pro mife to any man, of the most plaufible merit, without afking me what I know, or what I think of him. Mifs. Dear papal. as my heart has never yet been waken'd with a danger, it might be too prefumptuous to fay it never shall have its frailties: But if it should deceive me, if it fhould be weak enough to love without your knowledge, I would be myfelf its firft accufer; my fhame and guilt fhould kneel to you for protection,. and complain of its difobedience. Sir Charles. My dear girl! how your concern affects me! how amiable is this refignation? It really warms me, that self-denial has such sway with you: But minds well form'd will always have it. O think, child, how weak, how childish are our fenfual appetites, to hope for happiness exclufive of our virtue. This, Kitty, was more than I could have hoped from you. Mifs. But not more, Sir, than your goodness has prompted me to promife, and folemnly to give my hand for the performance of.: Nay, if my lips will be a better fecurity Sir Charles. I don't defire a better: Come, feal and deliver.. Mifs. There, Sir; take it as my act and deed-and when I break the leaft article of this engagement, whatever misfortunes may attend me, they shall never be imputed to your indulgence. Sir Charles. Say no more, I admire your fentiments, my dear: There is no making life easy, child, but. where power and obedience are as willing to give as to take; take; and fince our difference is diffolved into a mutual trull, let us e'en call another caufe, and-ring for the tea, BETWEEN A GENTLEMAN AND H18. PUPIL Gent. Permit me, madam, to ask your ideas of ha tred and revenge? Mifs. I cannot, fir, but confider hatred and revengeas two abominable vices. If either men or women, who naturally wish to be happy, would make ferious reflections on the inconveniences which these two paffions draw after them, they would foon banish that from. their hearts, which poifons all the happy moments of." their lives. Gent. I may add, mifs, that revenge, fo far from hurting the object, at which we level it, often recoils upon ourselves. Hatred devours thofe that harbour it,. it is an eternal torment, and they themselves, experience that load of uneafiness they wish to inflict on another. To have no defire to conquer hatred by the love of virtue, is a fufficient proof, that we study not our own interefts. An ingenious author has obferved, fpeaking of hatred, that "This paffion puts it in the 66 power of those we hate, to vex and torment us: the "very fight of the object we hate, raises in our minds what purfues us fleeping and waking. Hence it is,. s the |