Cam. Ah, would I could, ill-natured, cruel man!

Good. Ha, how's that? am I then mistaken? and have I wronged you all this while? I ask ten thousand pardons; curst damned sot that I was! I have ruined myself now for ever.

Cam. Well, sir, should I now forgive you all, could you consent to wrong your lady so far? you have not yet been married a full year: how must I then suspect your love to me, that can so soon forget your faith to her?

Good. Oh madam, what do you do? the name of a wife to a man in love is worse than cold water in a fever; 'tis enough to strike the distemper to my heart, and kill me quite my lady, quoth-a!

Cam. Besides, Valentine you know is your friend. Good. I grant it, he is so; a friend is a thing I love to eat and drink and laugh withal: nay, more, I would on a good occasion lose my life for my friend, but not my pleasure. Say when and where it shall be.

Cam. Never; I dare not.

Good. You must by and by when 'tis a little darker, in the left-hand walk, in the lowest garden.

Cam. I won't promise you; can't you trust my goodnature?

Good. Charming creature, I do: now if I can but make up the match between Truman and Victoria, my hopes are completed.

Cam. Haste! haste! away sir, I see Valentine coming, [Exit Good,

Enter VALENTINE.

Val. Madam, you are extremely merry; I am glad Mr. Goodvile has left you in so good a humour.

Cam. Ay, sir, and what may please you more, he is parted hence in as good a humour as he has left me here,

Enter Lady SQUEAMISH, BRIDGET at the Door.

Lady Squ. Valentine and Camilla alone together!

now for an opportunity to be revenged! ah, how I love malice!

Val. Ungratefullest of women!

Cam. Foolishest of men! can you be so very silly to be jealous? for I find you are so: what have you ever observed since first your knowledge of me, that might persuade you I should ever grow fond of a man, as notoriously false to all women, as you are unworthy of me?

Lady Squ. Has Valentine been false to her too? nay, then there is some pleasure left yet, to think I am not the only woman that has suffered by his baseness.

[Aside.

Val. What then, I'll warrant you were alone together half an hour only for a little harmless raillery or so? an honour I could never obtain without hard suit and humble supplication.

Cam. Alas! how very politic you are grown! you would pretend displeasure to try your power. No-I shall henceforth think you never had a good opinion of me; but that your love was at first as ill-grounded, as your fantastical jealousy is now.

Val. What specious pretence can you urge? (I know a woman can never be without one ;) come, I am easy and good-natured, willing to believe and be deceivedwhat, not a word!

Cam. Though I can hardly descend to satisfy your distrust, for which I hardly value you, and almost hate you; yet to torment you farther, know I did discourse with him, and of love too; nay more, granted him an appointment, but one I never meant to keep, and promised it only to get rid of him. This is more than I am obliged to tell you, but that I wanted such an oppor tunity as this to check your pretences, which I found too unruly to be kept at a distance.

Val. Though I had some reason to be in doubt, yet this true resentment and just proceeding has convinced me: for Goodvile is a man I have little reason to trust, as will appear hereafter, and 'twas my knowledge of his

baseness made me run into so mean a distrust of you but forgive me this, and when I fail again, discard me for ever.

Cam. Yes: but the next time I shall happen to discourse with a gentleman in private, I shall have you listening at the door, or eves-dropping under the window, What, distrust your friend, the honourable worthy Mr. Goodvile! fy, how can you be so ungenerous?

Val. There is not such another hypocrite in the world: he never made love but to delude, nor friendship but for his ends-even his own kinswoman and charge, Victoria, he has long since corrupted, and now would put her on his best friend Truman for a wife.

Cam. I cannot but laugh to think how easily he swallowed the cheat: he could not be more transported at possession, than he was with expectation; and he went away in a greater triumph than if he had conquered the Indies.

Val. Where did you promise him?

Cam. In the left-hand walk in the lower garden.

Lady Squ. So, in the left-hand walk in the lower garden; I heard that. But Mr. Valentine, you may chance to meet another there: let me die, this is pleasant. [Aside,

Val. And when?

Cam. Anon, when it begins to grow dark.

Lady Squ. Enough, I know the time and place; and madam Camilla, I shall make bold to cheat you of your lover to-night. Alas, poor inconsiderable creature, how this makes me loath her. [Aside.

Cam. Now would this news be more welcome to her ladyship madam Squeamish, than a new fashion, a new dance, or a new song. How many visits would she make on the occasion! not a family in town would be at rest for her till she had made it a jest, from the mo ther of the maids, to the attorney's wife in Holborn.

Val. But for some private reasons I would have it kept from her, and from madam Goodvile too. There are affairs to be carried on to-night, which the least

accident may interrupt.-Besides, I have thought upon't, and will so contrive the matter, that Goodvile shall keep his assignation, and her ladyship herself supply the place of the much-expected charming Camilla.

Cam. But would you, sir, do me such an injury as to make me break my word with Mr. Goodvile? that were inhuman.

Val. Good conscionable creature, have patience, and don't you think of paying debts too fast; there's an account yet between you and I which must be made even, and I think I had best secure it now I have you in my custody.

Cam. Ay, but sir, if I part with any thing, I shall expect to have something to shew for't.

Val. Nay, if I don't offer as lusty security and conditions as any man, let me lose all I lay claim to, that's fair. [Exeunt.

Lady Squ. So, are they gone? Now let me but live if this intrigue be not extremely surprizing. Bridget, go home, and fetch me the morning-gown I had last made in imitation of Camilla's, for perhaps I shall go a masquerading to-night, or it may be not; but fetch it nevertheless.

Brid. Madam, won't the other serve? you may remember you left it at my lady Foplove's t'other night; that's nearer.

Lady Squ. Impertinent creature! and wouldst thou have me appear in it twice? Do as I bid you, say; and d'ye hear, bring me a mask with an amber-bead, for I fear I may have fits to-night.

Brid. I never knew her without fantastical ones, I am sure, for they cost me many a weary errand. [Exit.

Enter VICTORIA.

Lady Squ. Oh my dear Victoria! the most unlookedfor happiness! the pleasantest accident! the strangest discovery! the very thought of it were enough to cure

melancholy. Valentine and Camilla, Camilla and Valentine, ha, ha, ha!

Vict. Dear madam, what is't so transports you?

Lady Squ. Nay, 'tis too precious to be communicated: hold me, hold me, or I shall die with laughter-ha, ha, ha! Camilla and Valentine, Valentine and Camilla-ha, ha, ha!— -O dear, my heart's broke.

Vict. Good madam, refrain your mirth a little, and let me know the story, that I may have a share in it.

Lady Squ. An assignation! an assignation to-night in the lower garden;-by strong good fortune I overheard it all just now -but to think on the pleasant consequence that will happen, drives me into an excess of joy beyond all sufferance.

Vict. Madam, in all probability the pleasantest consequence is like to be their's, if any body's; and I cannot guess how it should touch your ladyship in the least.

Lady Squ. O Lord, how can you be so dull? Why at the very hour and place appointed will I meet Valentine in Camilla's stead, before she can be there herself; then when she comes expose her infamy to all the world, till I have thoroughly revenged myself for all the base injuries her lover has done me.

Vict. But madam, can you endure to be so malicious?

Lady Squ. That, that's the dear pleasure of the thing; for I vow I'd sooner die ten thousand deaths, if I thought I should hazard the least temptation to the prejudice of my honour.

Vict. But why should your ladyship run into the mouth of danger? Who knows what scurvy lurking devil may stand in readiness, and seize your virtue before you are aware of him?

Lady Squ. Temptation! No, I'd have you know I scorn temptation: I durst trust myself in a convent amongst a kennel of crammed friars: besides, that ungrateful ill-bred fellow Valentine is my mortal aver»