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and how, and how : what intrigues, what gallantries are carrying on in the beau monde ?

Sir H. I should ask you that question, madam, since your ladyship makes the beau monde wherever you come.

Lady L. Ah, Sir Harry, I've been almost ruined, pestered to death here, by the incessant attacks of a mighty colonel ; he has besieged me.

Sir H. I hope your ladyship did not surrender, though.

Lady L. No, no; but was forced to capitulate. But since you are come to raise the siege, we'll dance, and sing, and laugh

Sir H. And love, and kiss -Montrez moi votre chanlire?

Lady L. Attends, attends, un peu-I remember, Sir Harry, you promised me, in Paris, never to ask that impertinent question again.

Sir H. Pshaw, madam! that was above two months ago : besides, madam, treaties made in France are never kept.

Lady L. Would you marry me, Sir Harry?

Sir H. Oh! I do detest marriage.-- But I will marry you.

Lady L. Your word, sir, is not to be relied on: if a gentleman will forfeit his honour in dealings of business, we may reasonably suspect his fidelity in an,

amour.

Sir H. My honour in dealings of business! Why, madam, I never had any business in all my life.

Lady L. Yes, Sir Harry, I have heard a very odd story, and am sorry that a gentleman of your figure should undergo the scandal.

Sir H. Out with it, madam.

Lady L. Why, the merchant, sir, that transmitted your bills of exchange to you in France, complains of some indirect and dishonourable dealings.

Sir H. Who, old Smuggler?
Lady L. Ay, ay, you know him, I find.

Sir H. I have some reason, I think; why the rogue has cheated me of above five hundred pounds within these three years.

Lady L. 'Tis your business then to acquit yourself publicly; for he spreads the scandal every where.

Sir H. Acquit myself publicly! I'll drive instantly into the city, and cane the old villain : he shall run the gauntlet round the Royal Exchange. Lady L. Why, he is in the house now, sir. Sir H. What, in this house? Lady L. Ay, in the next room. Sir H. Then, sirrah, lend me your cudgel.

Lady L. Sir Harry, you won't raise a disturbance in my house?

Sir H. Disturbance, madam! no, no, I'll beat him with the temper of a philosopher. Here, Mrs Parly, show me the gentleman. [Exit with PARLY.

Lady L. Now shall I get the old monster well beaten, and Sir Harry pestered next term with bloodsheds, batteries, costs, and damages, solicitors, and attorneys; and if they don't tease him out of his good kumour, I'll never plot again,

[Exit.

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Smug. Oh, this damned tide-waiter! A ship and cargo worth five thoạsand pounds! Why, 'tis richly worth five hundred perjuries.

Enter Sir H. WILDAIR.

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Sir H. Dear Mr Alderman, I'm your most devoted and humble servant.

Smug. My best friend, Sir Harry, you're welcome to England.

Sir H. I'll assure you, sir, there's not a man in the king's dominions I am gladder to meet, dear, ear Mr Alderman.

[Bowing very low. Smug. Oh, lord, sir, you travellers have the most obliging ways with you!

Sir H. There is a business, Mr Alderman, fallen out, which

you may oblige me infinitely by I am very sorry that I am forced to be troublesome; but necessity, Mr Alderman

Smug. Ay, sir, as you say, necessity-But, upon my word, sir, I am very short of money at present; but

Sir H. That's not the matter, sir ; I'm above an obligation that way: but the business is, I'm reduced to an indispensable necessity of being obliged to you for a beating—-Here, take this cudgel.

Smug. A beating, Sir Harry! ha! ha! ha! I beat a knight baronet! an alderman turn cudgel-player! Ha! ha! ha!

Sir H. Upon my word, sir, you must beat me, or
I cudgel you;

take
your

choice. Smug. Pshaw ! pshaw! you jest.

Sir H. Nay, 'tis sure as fate-So, Alderman, I hope you'll pardon my curiosity. [Strikes him.

Smug. Curiosity! Deuce take your curiosity, sir !
What d’ye mean?
Sir H. Nothing at all ; I'm but in jest, sir.

Smug. Oh, I can take any thing in jest ! but a man might imagine, by the smartness of the stroke, that you were in downright earnest.

Sir H. Not in the least, sir ; [Strikes him.] not in the least, indeed, sir.

Smug. Pray, good sir, no more of your jests; for they are the bluntest jests that ever I knew.

Šir H. [Strikes. ] I heartily beg your pardon, with all my heart, sir.

Smug. Pardon, sir! Well, sir, that is satisfaction enough from a gentleman. But, seriously, now, if you pass any more of your jests upon me, I shall grow angry.

Sir H. I humbly beg your permission to break one or two more.

[Strikes him. Smug: Oh, lord, sir, you'll break my bones! Are you mad, sir? Murder, felony, manslaughter !

[SIR HARRY krocks him down. Sir H. Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons; but I am absolutely compelled to it, upon my honour, sir : nothing can be more averse to my inclinations, than to jest with my honest, dear, loving, obliging friend the Alderman. [Striking him all this while: SMUGGLER tumbles

over and over.

Enter LADY LUREWELL. Lady L. Oh, lord! Sir Harry's murdering the poor old inan.

Smug. Oh, dear madam, I was beaten in jest, till I am murdered in good earnest.

Lady L. Oh! you barbarous man !-Now the de. vil take you, Sir Harry, for not beating him harder Well, my dear, you shall come at night, and I'll make you amends.

[Here Sır HARRY takes Snuff. Smug. Madam, I will have amends before I leave the place

-Sir, how durst you use me thus?
Sir H. Sir?
Smug. Sir, I say that I will have satisfaction.
Sir H. With all my heart.

[Throws Snuff into his Eyes. SM:18. Oh, murder! blindness! fire! Oh, madam,

madam, get me some water. Water ! fire ! fire ! water!

[Exit with LADY LUREWELL. Sir H. How pleasant is resepting an injury without passion! 'Tis the beauty of revenge.

No spleen, no trouble, shall my time destroy :
Life's but a span, I'll ev'ry inch enjoy. (Exit.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

The Street.

Enter COLONEL STANDARD and VIZARD.

Colonel S. I bring him word where she lodged? I the civillest rival in the world ? 'Tis impossible.

Vizard. I shall urge it no farther, sir. I only thought sir, that my character in the world might add authcrity to my words, without so many repetitions.

Colonel s. Pardon me, dear Vizard. Our belief struggles hard, before it can be brought to yield to the disadvantage of wirat we love. But wliat said Sir Harry ?

Vizard. He pitied the poor credulous colonel, laughed heartily, flew away with all the raptures of a bridegroom, repeating these lines:

A mistress ne'er can pall her lover's joys,
Whose wit can whet, whene'er her beauty cloys.

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