O'tis admirable! love himself inspires you, and we shall conquer. What say you, Mr Bates?

Bates. I'll insure you success; I can scarce believe my own ears; such a tongue and a brogue would make Hercules tremble at five-and-twenty: but away, away, and give him the first broadside in the Park; there you'll find him hobbling with that old cuckold, Kecksey.

id. But wil my dress suit the character I play? Neph. The very thing. Is your retinue ready, and your part got by heart?

Wid. All is ready; 'tis an act of despair to punish folly and reward merit; 'tis the last effort of pure honourable love; and if every woman would exert the same spirit for the same out-of-foshion rarity, there would be less business for Doctors Commons. Now let the critics laugh at me if they dare. [Exit with spirit.

Nepb. Brava? bravissima! sweet widow !

Bates. Huzza! huzza!

SCENE, the Park.

[Exit after ber.

[Exit.

Enter WHITTLE and KECKSEY.

Wbit. Yes, yes, she is Irish; but so modest, so mild, and so tender, and just enough of the accent to give a peculiar sweetness to her words, which drop from her in morasyllables, with such a delicate reserve, that I shall reve all the comfort, without the impertinence of a wife. Keck. There our taste differs, friend, I am for a lively smart girl in my house, hugh! hugh! to keep up my spirits, and make me merry: I don't admire dumb waiters, not I, no still-life for me; I love the prittle prattle; it sets me to sleep, and I can take a sound nap, while my Sally and her cousin are running and playing about the house like young cats.

W bit. I am for no cats in my house; I cannot sleep with a noise; the Widow was made on purpose for me; she is so bashful, has no acquaintance, and she never would stir out of doors, if her friends were not afraid of a consumption, and so force her into the air: Such a delicate creature! you shall see her; you were always for a

tall

tall, chattering, frisky wench; now for my part I am with

the old saying,

Wife a mouse,

Quiet house;

Wite a cat,

Dreadful that.

Keck. I don't care for your savings-who's afraid? Whit. There goes Bates, let us avoid him, he will only be joking with us: when I have taken a serious thing into my head, I can't bear to have it laugh'd out again. This way, friend Kecksey-What have we got here?

Keck. (looking out.) Some fine prancing wench, with her lovers and footmen about her; she's a gay one by her motions.

Whit. Were she not so flaunting, I should take it forNo, it is impossible; and yet is not that my nephew with her? I forbad him speaking to her; it can't be the Widow; I hope it is not.

Enter WIDOW followed by NEPHEW, three FOOTMEN. and a black Boy.

Wid. Don't bother me, young, man, with your darts your cupids, and your pangs; if you had half of 'em about you, that you swear you have, they would have cur'd you, by killing you long ago. Would you have me faitless to your uncle, hah! young man? Was not I faitful to you, 'till I was order'd to be faitful to him? but I must know more of your English ways, and live more among the English ladies, to learn how to be faitful to two at a time and so there's my answer for you.

A

Neph. Then I know my relief, for I cannot live without you.

[Exit. Wid. Take what relief you plase, young jontleman, what have I to do with dat? he is certainly mad, or out of his sinses, for he swears he can't live without me, and yet he talks of killing himself? how does he make out dat? Ifa countryman of mine had made such a blunder, they would have put it into all the newspapers, and Faulkner's Journel beside; but an Englishman may look over the hedge, while an Irishman must not stale a horse.

Keck. Is this the Widow, friend Whittle?
Whit. I don't know, (sigbing) it is, and it is not.

Wid

Wid. Your servaht Mr Whittol; I wish you would spake to your nephew not to be whining and dangling after me all day in his green coat like a parrot: It is not for my reputation that he should follow me about like a beggar man, and ask me for what I had given him long ago, but have since bestowed upon you, Mr Whittol.

Whit. He is an impudent beggar, and shall be really so for his disobedience,

Wid. As he can't live without me, you know, it will be charity to starve him: I wish the poor young man dead with all my heart, as he thinks it will do him a grate dale of good.

Keck. (to Whittle.) She is tender, indeed! and I think she has the brogue a little-hugh! hugh!

Whit. It is stronger to-day than ever I heard it.

(staring. Wid. And are you now talking of my brogue? It is alWays the most fullest when the wind is easterly; it has the same effect upon me as upon stammering people-they can't speak for their impediment, and my tongue is fix'd so loose in my mouth, I can't s op it for the life of me. Whit. What a terrible misfortune, friend Kecksey! Keck. Not at all; the more tongue the better, say I. Wid. When the wind changes I have no brogue at all, at all. But come, Mr Whittol, don't let us be vulgar and talk of our poor relations: It is impossible to be in this 'metropolis of London, and have any thought but of operas, plays, masquerades, and pantaons, to keep up one's spirits in the winter; and Ranelagh, Vauxhall, and Marybone fireworks, to cool and refresh one in the summer. -La! la! la ! (sings.

Whit. I protest she puts me into a sweat: we shall have a mob about us.

Keck. The more the merrier, I say—who's afraid ?.

Wid. How the people stare! as if they never saw a woman's voice before; but my vivacity has got the better of my good manners. This, I suppose, this strange gentleman, is a near friend and relation; and as such, notwithstanding his apparance, I shall always trate him, though I might dislike him upon a nearer acquaintance.

Keck. Madam, you do me honour; I like your frankness, and I like your person, and I envy my friend Whit

tle ;

tle and if you were not engaged, and I were not war ried, i guld endeavour to make myself agreeable tʊ you, that I would-huh! hugh!

Wid. And indeed, Sir it would be very agrauble to me; for if I should hate you as much as I did my fi.s. dare. husband; I should always have the comfort, that in all human probability my torments would not last long.

Keck. She utters something more than monosyllables, friend; this is better than bargain; She has a fine, boid way of talki. g.

Whit. More bold than welcome! I am s ruck all of a heap!

Wid. What are you low-spirited, my dare Mr Whittol? When you were at Scarbrough, and wining my affections, you were all mirth and gaiety; and now you have won me, you are as thoughtful about it as if we had been married some time.

Wbit. Ideed, Madam, I can't but say I am a little thoughtful-we take it by turns; you were very sorrowful a month ago for the loss of your husband, and that you could day up your tears so soon naturally makes me a little thoughtful.

Wid. Indeed, I could dry up my tears for a dozen husbands when I was sure of having a thirteenth like Me Whittol: that's very natural sure, both in England and Dublin too.

Keck. She won't die of a consumption; she has a fine full-ton'd voice, and you'll be very happy, Tom-Hugh! hugh!

Whit. O yes, very happy.

Wid. But come, don't let us be melancholy before the time: I am sure I have been mop'd up for a year and a half-I was obliged to mourn for my first husband, that I might be sure of a second; and my father kept my spirits in subjection, as the best receipt (he said) for changing a widow into a wife; but now I have my arms and legs at liberty, I must and will have my swing: Now I am out of my cage I could dance two nights together, and a day too, like any singing bird; and I'm in such spirits that, I have got rid of my father, I could fly over the moon without wings, and back again, before dinner. Bless my eyes, and don't I see there Miss Nancy O'Fiarty, and her brother captain O'Flarty? he was one of my dying Stre

phons at Scarborough-I have a very great regard for him, and must anake him a little miserable with my happi(curtseys.)

ness.

Come along Skips (to the servants.) don't you be gostring there; show your liveries, and bow to your master that is to be, and to his friend, and hold up your heads, and trip after me as lightly as if you had no legs to your feet. I shall be with you again, Jontleman, in the crack of a fan -O, I'll have a husband, ay, marry. [Exit singing.

Keck. A fine buxom widow, faith! no acquaintancedelicate reserve-mopes at home-forc'd into the air-inclin'd to a consumption-What a description you gave of your wife! Why she beats my Sally, Tom.

Whit Yes, and she'll beat me if I don't take care! What a change is here! I must turn about, or this will turn my head: Dance for two nights together, and leap over the moon! you shall dance and leap by yourself, that I am resolved.

Keck. Here she comes again; it does my heart good to see her-You are in luck, Tom.

Whit. I'd give a finger to be out of such luck.

Enter WIDOW, &c.

Wid. Ha! ha ha! the poor captain is marched off in a fury; he can't bear to hear that the town is capitulated to you, Mr Whittol. I have promised to introduce him to you: He will make one of my danglers to take a little exercise with me, when you take your nap in the after

noon.

Whit. You shan't catch me napping, I assure you. What a discovery and escape have I made! I am in a sweat with the thought of my danger! [Aside.

Keck. I protest, cousin, there goes my wife, and her friend Mr Mac Brawn. What a fine stately couple they are! I must after 'em, and have a laugh with them-now they giggle and walk quick, that I may n't overtake 'em. Madam, your servant. You're a happy man, Tom. Keep up your spirits, old boy. Hugh! hugh!-who's afraid!

[Exit.

Wid. I know Mr Mac Brawn extremely well-He was very intimate at our house in my first husband's time; a great comfort he was to me to be sure! Hewould very often