I've heard wise men in politics lay down
What feats by little England might be done,
Were all agreed, and all would act as one.
Ye wives a useful hint from this might take,
The heavy, old, despotic kingdom shake,
And make your matrimonial monsieurs quake.
Our heads are feeble, and we're cramped by laws,
Our hands are weak, and not too strong our

cause;

Yet would those heads and hands, such as they are,

In firm confederacy resolve on war,
You'd find your tyrants—what I've found my
dear.

What only two united can produce,
You've seen to-night, a sample for your use:
Single, we found we nothing could obtain ;
We joined our force and we subdued our men.
Believe me, my dear sex, they are not brave;

Try each your man, you'll quickly find your slave I know they'll make campaigns, risk blood and life,

But this is a more terrifying strife;
They'll stand a shot who'll tremble at a wife.
Beat then your drums, and your shrill trumpets
sound,

Let all your visits of your feats resound,
And deeds of war in cups of tea go round.
The stars are with you, fate is in your hand,
In twelve months time you've vanquished half
the land;

Be wise, and keep 'em under good command.
This year will to your glory long be known,
And deathless ballads hand your triumphs down;
Your late achievements ever will remain,
For though you cannot boast of many slain,
Your prisoners shew, you've made a brave cam-
paign.

OUR author's wit and raillery to-night
Perhaps might please, but that your stage delight
No more is in your minds, but ears and sight.
With audiences composed of belles and beaux,
The first dramatic rule is, have good clothes,
To charm the gay spectator's gentle breast;
In lace and feather, tragedy's express'd,
And heroes die unpity'd, if ill-dress'd.

The other style you full as well advance;
If 'tis a comedy, you ask- -Who dance?
For, oh! what dire convulsions have of late
Torn and distracted each dramatic state,
On this great question, which house first should

sell

The new French steps, imported by Ruelle !
Desbarques cann't rise so high, we must agree,
They've half a foot in height more wit than we.
But though the genius of our learned age
Thinks fit to dance and sing, quite off the stage,
True action, comic mirth, and tragic rage;
Yet, as your taste now stands, our author draws

Some hopes of your indulgence and applause.
For that great end, this edifice he made,
Where humble swain at lady's feet is laid;
Where the pleased nymph her conquer'd lover
spies,

Then to glass pillars turns her conscious eyes,
And points a-new each charm, for which he dies.
The muse, before nor terrible nor great,
Enjoys by him this awful gilded seat:
By him, theatric angels mount more high,
And mimic thunders shake a broader sky.

Thus all must own, our author has done more
For your delight, than ever bard before.
His thoughts are still to raise your pleasures fill'd;
To write, translate, to blazon, or to build.
Then take him in the lump, nor nicely pry
Into small faults, that 'scape a busy eye;
But kindly, sirs, consider, he to-day
Finds you the house, the actors, and the play :
So, though we stage-mechanic rules omit,
You must allow it in a wholesale wit.

SCENE I.-The Street.

Enter CARLOS and SANCHO.

Car. I tell thee, I am satisfied; I'm in love enough to be suspicious of every body. San. And yet methinks, sir, you should leave

me out.

Cur. It may be so; I cann't tell: But I'm not at ease. If they don't make a knave, at least they will make a fool of thee.

San. I don't believe a word on't: But good faith, master, your love makes somewhat of you: I don't know what 'tis; but methinks when you suspect me, you don't seem a man of half those parts I used to take you for. Look in my face, 'tis round and comely, not one hollow line of a villain in it: men of my fabric don't use to be suspected for knaves; and when you take us for For my fools, we never take you for wise men. part, in this present case, I take myself to be mighty deep. A stander-by, sir, sees more than a gamester. You are pleased to be jealous of your poor mistress without a cause; she uses you but too well, in my humble opinion; she sees you, and talks with you, till I'm quite tired on't sometimes; and your rival, that you are so scared about, forces a visit upon her, about once in a fortnight. Car. Alas! thou art ignorant in these affairs; he that's the civilest received, is often the least cared for: women appear warm to one, to hide a flame for another. Lorenzo, in short, appears too composed of late to be a rejected lover, and the indifference he shews upon the favours I seem to receive from her, poisons the pleasure I else should taste in them, and keeps me upon a perpetual rack. No-I would fain see some of his jealous transports, have him fire at the sight of me, contradict me whenever I speak, affront me wherever he meets me, challenge me, fight meSan. Run you through the guts.

Car. But he's too calm, his heart's too much at ease, to leave me mine at rest.

Sun. Hard by.

[Shewing him.

Juc. O, sir, I'm glad I have found you at last; I believe I have travelled five miles after you, and could neither find you at home, nor in the walks, nor at church, or at the opera, nor――

San. Nor any where else, where he was not to be found: If you had looked for him where he was, 'twas ten to one but you had met with him. Juc. I had, Jack-a-dandy!

Car. But, pr'ythee, what's the matter? Who sent you after me?

Jac. One who's never well but when she sees you, I think; 'twas my lady.

Car. Dear Jacinta, I fain would flatter myself, but am not able; the blessing's too great to be my lot; yet 'tis not well to trifle with me; how short soe'er I am in other merit, the tenderness I have for Leonora claims something from her generosity. I should not be deluded.

Jac. And why do you think you are? Methinks she's pretty well above board with you: What must be done more to satisfy you?

Sun. Why Lorenzo must hang himself, and then we are content.

Jac. How! Lorenzo?

San. If less will do, he'll tell you.

Juc. Why, you are not mad, sir, are you? Jealous of him! Pray which way may this have got into your head? I took you for a man of sense before. Is this your doings, log? [To SANCHO.

tresses come to be very fond of us, or we-not to care a fig for them. Now, suppose, upon the rebukes you know he has had, it should chance to be the latter.

dread of no man,

Jac. That's the way to prosper, however; so far I'll confess the truth to thee; at least, if that don't do, nothing else will. Men are mighty sim

man's falling off, you fall a-plaguing her to bring her on again, attack her with reason and a sour face: 'udslife, sir, attack her with a fiddle, double your good-humour-give her a ball-powder your periwig at her-let her cheat you at cards a little, and I'll warrant all's right again. But to come upon a poor woman with the gloomy face of jealousy, before she gives the least occasion for't, is to set a complaisant rival in too favour

able a light. Sir, sir, I must tell you, I have seen those who have owed their success to nothing else. Car. Say no more; I have been to blame, but there shall be no more on't.

Jac. I should punish you but justly however for what's past, if I carried back what I have brought you; but I'm good-natured, so here 'tis; open it, and see how wrong you timed your jealousy.

Car. [Reads.] "If you love me with that ten. derness you have made me long believe you do, this letter will be welcome; 'tis to tell you, you have leave to plead a daughter's weakness to a father's indulgence: and if you prevail with him to lay his commands upon me, you shall be as happy as my obedience to them can make you. LEONORA."

Then I shall be what man was never yet. [Kiss ing the letter.] Ten thousand blessings on thee for thy news; I could adore thee as a deity. [Embracing JAC. Jac. True flesh and blood, every inch of her, for all that.

Car. [Reads again.] " And if you prevail with him to lay his commands upon me, you shall be as happy as my obedience to them can make you." O happy, happy Carlos! But what shall I say to thee for this welcome message? [To JACINTA.] Alas! I want words-But let this speak for me, and this, and this, and

[Giving her his ring, watch, and purse. San. Hold, sir; pray leave a little something for our board-wages. You cann't carry 'em all, I believe: [To JACINTA.] Shall I ease thee of this? [Offering to take the purse. Jac. No; but you may carry-that, sirrah. [Giving him a box on the car. San. The jade's grown purse-proud already. Car. Well, dear Jacinta, say something to your charming mistress, that I am not able to say myself: But, above all, excuse my late unpardonable folly, and offer her my life to expiate my

crime.

Lor. I thank you, Don Carlos; perfectly well

both in body and in mind.

Car. What! cured of your love then?

Car. Increasing every hour: we are very constant both.

Lor. I find so much delight in being so, I hope I never shall be otherwise.

Car. Those joys I am well acquainted with ;— but should lose them soon, were I to meet a cool reception.

Lor. That's every generous lover's case, no doubt; an angel could not fire my heart but with an equal flame..

Car. And yet you said you still loved Leonora.
Lor. And yet I said I loved her.
Car. Does she then return you

Lor. Every thing my passion can require.
Car. Its wants are small I find.
Lor. Extended as the heavens.
Car. I pity you.

Lor. He must be a deity that does so.

Car. Yet I'm a mortal, and once more can pity you. Alas, Lorenzo, 'tis a poor cordial to an aching heart, to have the tongue alone announce it happy; besides 'tis mean; you should

be more a man.

Lor. I find I have made you an unhappy one, so can forgive the boilings of your spleen.

Car. This seeming calmness might have the effect your vanity proposes by it; had I not a testimony of her love would (should I shew it) sink you to the centre.

Lor. Yet still I'm calm as ever.

Car. Nay, then have at your peace. Read that, and end the farce.

[Gives him LEONORA's letter. Lor. [Reads.] I have read it.

Car. And know the hand?

Lo Tis Leonora's; I have often seen it. hope you then at last are satisfied. am. [Smiting.] Good-morrow, Carlos. [Exit LOR

San. Sure he's mad, master. Car. Mad! sayest thou? San. And yet, by'r lady, that was a sort of a dry sober smile at going off.

Car. A very sober one! had he shewn me such a letter, I had put on another countenance. San. Ay, o' my conscience had you.

Car. Here's mystery in this-I like it not. San. I see his man and confidant there, Lopez. Shall I draw him on a Scotch pair of boots, master, and make him tell all?

Car. Some questions I must ask him; cal him hither.

San. Hem, Lopez, hem!

Enter LOPEZ.

Lop. Who calls?

San. I, and my master.
Lop. I cann't stay.
San. You can indeed, sir.

[Laying hold on him. Car. Whither in such haste, honest Lopez? What! upon some love-errand?

Lop. Sir, your servant; I ask your pardon,

Car. I guess where, but you need not be th

of me any more; thy master and I are no longer rivals; I have yielded up the cause; the lady will have it so, so I submit.

Lop. Is it possible, sir? shall I then live to see my master and you friends again?

San. Yes, and what's better, thou and I shall be friends too. There will be no more fear of Christian bloodshed. I give thee up Jacinta; she's a slippery hussy, so master and I are going to match ourselves elsewhere.

Lop. But is it possible, sir, your honour should be in earnest? I'm afraid you are pleased to be merry with your poor humble servant.

Car. I'm not at present much disposed to mirth; my indifference in this matter is not so thoroughly formed: but my reason has so far mastered my passion, to shew me, 'tis in vain to pursue a woman whose heart already is another's. 'Tis what I have so plainly seen of late, I have roused my resolution to my aid, and broke my chains for ever.

Lop. Well, sir, to be plain with you, this is the joyfullest news I have heard this long time; for I always knew you to be a mighty honest gentleman; and, good faith, it often went to the heart o' me to see you so abused. Dear, dear, have I often said to myself (when they have had a private meeting just after you have been gone)

Car. Ha!

San. Hold, master, don't kill him yet.

[To CAR. aside. Lop. say I have said to myself, what wicked things are women, and what pity it is they should be suffered in a Christian country; what a shame they should be allowed to play will-in-the-wisp with men of honour, and lead them gh thorns and briars, and rocks, and rugged ways, till their hearts are all torn to pieces, like an old coat in a fox-chace! I say, I have said to myself

Car. Thou hast said enough to thyself, but say a little more to me: where were these secret meetings thou talk'st of?

Lop. In sundry places, and by divers ways: sometimes in the cellar, sometimes in the garret, sometimes in the court, sometimes in the gutter: but the place where the kiss of kisses was given

was

Car. In bell. Lop. Sir!

Car. Speak, fury, what dost thou mean by the kiss of kisses?

Lop. The kiss of peace, sir, the kiss of union, the kiss of consummation.

Car. Thou liest, villain!

Lop. I don't know but I may, sir-What the devil's the matter now? [Aside.

Cur. There's not one word of truth in all thy cursed tongue has uttered.

Lop. No, sir, I-I-believe there is not.
Car. Why then didst thou say it, wretch?
Lop. O -only in jest.

Cur. I am not in a jesting condition.

Lop. Nor I-at present, sir.

Car. Speak then the truth, as thou wouldst do it at the hour of death.

Lop. Yes, at the gallows, and be turned off as soon as I've done. [Aside.

Car. What's that you murmur?

Lop. Nothing but a short prayer.

Car. I am distracted, and fright the wretch from telling me, what I am upon the rack to know. [Aside.] Forgive me, Lopez; I am to blame to speak thus harshly to thee: let this obtain my pardon. [Gives him money.] Thou see'st I am disturbed.

Lop. Yes, sir, I see I have been led into a snare; I have said too much.

Car. And yet thou must say more; nothing can lessen my torment, but a farther knowledge of what causes my misery. Speak then! have I any thing to hope?

Lop. Nothing; but that you may be a happier bachelor, than my master may probably be a married man.

Car. Married, say'st thou?

Lop. I did, sir, and I believe he'll say so too in a twelvemonth.

Car. O torment!-But give me more on't: when, how, to whom, where?

Lop. Yesterday to Leonora, by the parson, in the pantry.

Car. Look to it; if this be false, thy life shall pay the torment thou hast given me: be gone. Lop. With the body and the soul of me. [Exit LOPEZ.

San. Base news, master. Cur. Now my insulting rival's smile speaks out: O cursed, cursed woman!

Enter JACINTA.

Jac. I'm come in haste to tell you, sir, that, as soon as the moon's up, my lady will give you a meeting in the close-walk by the back-door of the garden; she thinks she has something to propose to you will certainly get her father's consent to marry you.

Car. Past sufferance! this aggravation is not to be borne go thank her-with my curses: ay, and let them blast her, while their venom is strong. [Exit CAR.

Jac.- -Won't you explain? what's this storm

for?

Sun. And darest thou ask me questions, smooth-faced iniquity, crocodile of Nile, siren of the rocks? Go carry back the too gentle answer thou hast received; only let me add with the poet :

We are no fools, trollop, master nor me; And thy mistress may go-to the devil with thee. [Exit SANCHO.

JACINTA sola.

Jac. Am I awake!--I fancy not; a very idle dream this. Well, I'll go talk in my sleep to my lady about it; and when I awake, we'll try what interpretation we can make on't. [Exit.