Gran. Thy mistress! What dost thou mean? Thou speakest as if thou hadst but one.

Wit. Why, no more I have not, that I care a farthing for: I may perhaps have a stable of scrubs, to mount my footmen, when I rattle into town, or so; but this is a choice pad, child, that I design for my own riding.

Frank. Pr'ythee, who is she?

Wit. I'll shew you, my dear-I think I have her here in my pocket.

Gran. What dost thou mean?

Wit. Look you, I know you are my friends; and therefore, since I am sure it is in nobody's power to There! that's [Shews a paper. [Reads.

hurt me, I'll venture to trust you. whoo, child.

Fran. What's here?

• Sir,

To Sir GILBERT WRANGLE.

According to your contract of the eleventh of February last, I now make my election of your younger daughter, Mrs. Charlotte Wrangle; and do hereby demand your consent, to be forthwith join'd to the said Charlotte in the sober state of matrimony. Witness my hand, &c.

WILLIAM WITLING."

What a merry world do we live in !

Gran. This indeed is extraordinary.

Wit. I think so: I assure you, gentlemen, I take this to be a coup de maitre of the whole Alley. This is

a call now, that none of your thick-sculled calculators could ever have thought on.

Gran. Well, sir, and does this contract secure the lady's fortune to you too?

Wit. Oh, pox! I knew that was all rug before: he had settled three thousand a-piece upon them in the South-Sea, when it was only about par, provided they married with his consent, which by this contract, you know, I have a right too. So there's another thirty thousand dead, my dear.

Frank. But pray, sir, has not the lady herself a right of refusal, as well as you, all this while ?

Wit. A right! aye, who doubts it? Every woman has a right to be a fool, if she has a mind to it, that's certain; but Charlotte happens to be a girl of taste, my dear; she is none of those fools that will stand in her own light, I can tell you.

Frank. Well, but do you expect she should blindly consent to your bargain?

Wit. Blindly, no, child: but dost thou imagine any citizen's daughter can refuse a man of my figure and fortune with her eyes open.

Gran. Impudent roguel

[Aside.

Frank. Nay, I grant your security's good, sir: but

I mean, you have still left her consent at large in the writing.

Wit. Her consent! Didst thou think I minded that, man? I knew, if the stock did but whip up, I should make no more of her than a poached egg. But to let

34

you into the secret, my dear, I am secure of that already; for the slut's in love with me, and does not know it: ha, ha, ha !

Frank. How came you to know it, then ?

Wit. By her ridiculous pretending to hate me, child: for we never meet, but 'tis a mortal war, and never part, till one of us is rallied to death: ha, ha, ha!

Frank. Nay then, it must be a match; for, I see, you are resolved to take no answer.

Wit. Not I, faith! I know her play too well for that: in short, I am this very evening to attack her in form; and to shew you I am a man of skill, I intend to make my first breach from a battery of Italian music, in which I design to sing my own Io Pæan, and enter the town in triumph.

Frank. You are not going to her now ?

Wit. No, no, I must first go and give the governor my summons here. - I must find out Sir Gilbert; he's hereabouts: I long to make him growl a little; for I know he'll fire when he reads it, as if it were a scire facias against the company's charter. Ha, ha, hal [Exit.

"Frank. When all's said, this fellow seems to feel "his fortune more than most of the fools that have "been lately taken into her favour."

Gran. "Pox on him! I had rather have his consti"tution than his money." Pr'ythee let's follow; and see how the old gentleman receives him.

Frank. No; excuse me; I cann't rest till I see Charlotte: you know my affairs now require at

tendance.

Gran. That's true; I beg you take no notice to Sophronia of my being in town; I have my reasons for it.

Frank. Very well; we shall meet at dinner. Adieu. [Exeunt severally.

ACT II. SCENE 1.

Sir GILBERT's House. Enter SOPHRONIA and CHARLOTTE.

Ha, ha, hal

Charlotte.

Soph. Dear sister, don't be so boisterous in your mirth: you really overpower me! So much vociferation is insupportable.

Char. Well, well, I beg your pardon-but, you know laughing is the wholsomest thing in the world; and when one has a hearty occasion

Soph. To be vulgar, you are resolved to appear so. Char. Oh, I cannot help it, I love you dearly; and, pray, where's the harm of it?

Soph. Look you, sister, I grant you, that risibility is only given to the animal rationale; but you really indulge it, as if you could give no other proof of your species.

Char. And if I were to come into your sentiments, dear sister, I am afraid the world would think I were of no species at all.

Soph. The world, sister, is a generation of ignorants: and, for my part, I am resolved to do what in me lies to put an end to posterity.

Char. Why, you don't despair of a man, I hope ? Soph. No; but I will have all mankind despair of

me.

Char. You'll positively die a maid!

Soph. You, perhaps, may think that dying a mar.

tyr; but I shall not die a brute, depend upon't.

Char. Nay, I don't think you'll die either, if you can help it.

Soph. What do you mean, madam ?

Char. Only, madam, that you are a woman, and may happen to change your mind; that's all.

Soph. A woman! That's so like your ordinary way of thinking; as if souls had any sexes-No-when I die, madam, I shall endeavour to leave such sentiments behind me, that-(non omnis moriar) the world will be convinced my purer part had no sex at all.

"Char. Why truly, it will be hard to imagine that " any one of our sex could make such a resolution; "though, I hope, we are not bound to keep all we "make neither.

"Soph. You'll find, madam, that an elevated soul " may be always master of its perishable part."

Char. But, dear madam, do you suppose our souls are crammed into our bodies merely to spoil sport, that a virtuous woman is only sent hither of a fool's

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