this country ftands, I could heartily with this

Caf. I will ask him for my place again; he fhall tell me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, fuch an anfwer would ftop them all. To be now a fenfible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast ! Every inordinate cup is unblefs'd, and the ingredient is a devil..

lago. Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well ufed; exclaim no more against it. And, good Lieutenant, I think you think I love you.

Caf. I have well approv'd it, Sir. drunk!

I

lago. You, or any man living, may be drunk at fome time, man. I tell you what you fhall do. Our general's wife is now the general. Confefs yourself freely to her: importune her help, to put you in your place again. She is of fo free, fo kind, fu apt, fo bleffed a difpofition, fhe holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more than the is requested. This broken joint between you and her hufband, entreat her to fplinter; and, my forrunes against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love fhall grow stronger than it

was before.

Mrs. Modifb. Indeed, Mr. Mercury, I cannot have the pleafure of waiting upon you now. I am engaged, abfolutely engaged.

Mercy. I know you have an amiable affectionate husband, and several fine children: but you need not be told, that neither conjugal attachments, maternal affections, nor even the care of a kingdom's welfare or a nation's glory, can excule a perfon who has received a fummons to the realms of death. IE the grim meffenger was not as peremptory as unwelcome, Charon would not get a paffenger (except now and then an hypochondriacal Englishman) once in a century. You must be content to leave your hufband and family, and pafs the Styx.

Mrs. Modih. I did not mean to infift on any engagement with my husband and children: I never thought myself engaged to them. I had no engagements but fuch as were common to women of my rank. Look on my chimney-picce, and you will fee I was engaged to the play on Mondays, balls on Tuefdays, the opera on Saturdays, and to cardaffemblies the reft of the week, for two months to come; and it would be the rudeft thing in the world not to keep my appointments. If you will ftay for me till the fummer feafon, I will wait on you with all my heart. Perhaps the Elyfian fields may be less deteftable than the country in our world. Pray, have you a fine Vauxhall and Ranelagh? I think I should not diflike drinking the Lethe waters, when you have a full season.

Mercury. Surely you could not like to drink the waters of oblivion, who have made

pleafure

pleasure the bufinefs, end, and aim of your life! It is good to drown cares: but who would wash away the remembrance of a life of gaiety and pleasure ?

Mrs. Modib. Diverfion was indeed the bufinefs of my life; but as to pleasure, I have enjoyed none fince the novelty of my amufements was gone off. Can one be pleafed with feeing the fame thing over and over again? Late hours and fatigue gave me the vapours, fpoiled the natural chearfulness of my temper, and even in youth wore away my youthful vivacity.

Mercury. If this way of life did not give you pleafure, why did you continue in it? I fuppofe you did not think it was very meritorious?

Mrs. Modif I was too much engaged to think at all: so far indeed my manner of life was agreeable enough. My friends always told me diverfions was neceffary, and my doctor affured me diffipation was good for my fpirits; my husband infifted that it was not; and you know that one loves to oblige one's friends, comply with one's doctor, and contradict one's hufband; and befides, I was ambitious to be thought du bon ton**.

Mercury. Bon ton! what's that, Madam? Pray define it.

Mrs. Modif. Oh, Sir, excufe me; it is one of the privileges of the bon ton never to define or be defined. It is the child and the parent of jargon. It is-I can never tell you what it is; but I will try to tell you what it is not. In converfation it is not wit; in manners it is not politeness; in behaviour it

Du bon ton is a cant phrafe in the modern French language, for the fashionable air of converfation and manners.

is not addrefs; but it is a little like them all. It can only belong to people of a certain rank, who live in a certain manner, with certain perfons who have not certain virtucs, and who have certain vices, and who inhabit a certain part of the town. Like a place by courtefy, it gets an higher rank than the perfon can claim, but which thofe who have a legal rite to precedency dare not difpute, for fear of being thought not to underftand the rules of politenefs. Now, Sir, I have told you as much as I know of it, though I have admired and aimed at it all my life.

Mercury. Then, Madam, you have wafted your time, faded your beauty, and deftroyed your health, for the laudable purpofes of contradicting your hufband, and being this fomething and this nothing called the bon ton ?

Mrs. Modifb. What would you have had me do?

Mercury. I will follow your mode of inftructing: I will tell you what I would nor have had you do. I would not have had you facrifice your time, your reason, and your duties to fashion and folly. I would not have had you neglect your husband's happinets, and your children's education.

Mrs. Modifb. As to my daughters' education I fpared no expence: they had a danc ing-mafter, mufic-mafter, and drawing-mafter, and a French governefs to teach them be. haviour and the French language.

Mercury. So their religion, fentiments, and manners, were to be learnt from a danc ing mafter, mufic-mafter, and a chambermaid! perhaps they might prepare them to catch the bon ton. Your daughters muit have been fo educated as to fit them to be wives without conjugal affection, and mothers without

without maternal care. I am forry for the fort of life they are commencing, and for that which you have juft concluded. Minos is a four old gentleman, without the leaft finattering of the bon ton; and I am in a fright for you. The best thing I can advise you is, to do in this world as you did in the ther, keep happiness in your view, but never take the road that leads to it. Remain on this fide Styx; wander about without end or aim; look into the Elyfian fields, but never attempt to enter into them, left Minos fhould puth you into Tartarus: for duties neglected may bring on a sentence not much lefs fevere than crimes committed.

Dialogues of the Dead. 20. Scene between the Jews SHYLOCK and TUBAL; in which the latter alternateby torments and pleases the former, by giving him an Account of the Extravagance of bis Daughter JESSICA, and the Misfortunes of ANTONIO.

Soy. How now, Tubal? What news from Genoa haft thou heard of my daughter?

Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.

Shy. Why there, there, there! a diamond gone that coft me two thousand ducats in Francfort! The curfe never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it till now. Two thousand ducats in that, and other precious, precious jewels! I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her car! O would the were hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of them; and I know not what spent in the fearch: lofs upon lofs! the thief gone with fo much, and fo much to find the thief; and no fatisfaction, no revenge; no ill luck stirring but what lights

on my fhoulders; no fighs, but o' my breathing; no tears, but o' my fhedding!

Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too; Antonio, as I heard in Genoa

Shy. What, what, what? il luck, ill luck?

Tub. Hath an argofte caft away, coming from Tripolis.

Shy. Thank God! thank God! is it true? is it true?

Tub. I fpoke with some of the sailors that efcaped the wreck.

Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal! good news, good news!

Tub. Your daughter fpent in Genoa, as I heard, in one night, four score du

cats.

Sby. Thou ftick'ft a dagger in me; I shall never fee my gold again: fourfcore ducats at a fitting! four score ducats!

Tub. There came divers of Antonio's

creditors in my company to Venice, tha fwear he cannot but break.

Shy. I am glad of it: I'll plague him, I'll torture him: I am glad of it.

Tub. One of them fhewed me a ring that he had of your daughter for a mon

key. Shy. Tubal when I given it

Out upon her! thou torturest me, it was my ruby, I had it of Leah was a batchelor; I would not have for a wilderness of monkies. Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone. Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true: go fee me an officer, befpeak him a fortnight before. I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandize I will. Gp, go, Tubal, and meet me at our fynagogue; go, good Tubal; at our fynagogue, Tubal.

Shakespeare.

Fal. A plague of cowards, I fay, and a vengeance too, marry and amen! Give me a cup of fack, boy: ere I lead this life long, I'll few nether focks and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! give me a cup of fack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? [He drinks.]-You rogue, here's lime in this fack too. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous man; yet a coward is worfe than a cup of fack with lime in it. A villainous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a thotten herring. There live not three good men unhang'd in England, and one of them is fat, and grows old, Heaven help the while! A bad world! I fay: A plague of all cowards! I fay

ftill.

give a thousand pound I could run as fast as thou canft. You are straight enough in the thoulders; you care not who fees your back. Call you that backing of friends? a plague upon fuch backing! give me them that will face me: give me a cup of fack; I am a rogue if I drank to-day

P. Henry. O villain! thy lips are scarce wip'd fince thou drank'st last.

Fal. All's one for that. [He drinks.] A plague of all cowards! ftill, fay I.

P. Henry. What's the matter? Fal. What's the matter! here be four of us have ta'en a thousand pound this morning.

it?

P. Henry. Where is it, Jack? where is

Fal. Where is it! taken from us, it is a hundred upon four of us.

P. Henry. What! a hundred, man? Fal. I am a rogue if I were not at halffword with a dozen of them two hours to gether. I have efcaped by miracle. I am eight times thruft through the doublet, four through the hofe, my buckler cut through and through, my fword hack'd like a handfaw, ecce fignum! I never dealt better fince I was a man: "all would not to do. A plague of all cowards!

P. Henry. What, fought you with them

all?

Fal. All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish; if there were not two of three and nifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no two-legg'd creature.

P. Henry. Pray Heav'n you have not murder'd fome of them!

Fal. Nay, that's paft praying for. I have pepper'd two of them; two, I am fure, I have paid; two rogues in buckram fuits.