SCENE IV.----_Sir_ George Touchwood_'s.

_Enter_ Sir George _and_ Villers.

_Vill._ For shame, Sir George! you have left Lady Frances in tears.--How can you afflict her?

_Sir Geo._ 'Tis I that am afflicted;--my dream of happiness is over.--Lady Frances and I are disunited.

_Vill._ The Devil! Why, you have been in town but ten days: she can have made no acquaintance for a Commons affair yet.

_Sir Geo._ Pho! 'tis our minds that are disunited: she no longer places her whole delight in me; she has yielded herself up to the world!

_Vill._ Yielded herself up to the World! Why did you not bring her to town in a Cage? Then she might have taken a peep at the World!--But, after all, what has the World done? A twelvemonth since you was the gayest fellow in it:--If any body ask'd who dresses best?--Sir George Touchwood.--Who is the most gallant Man? Sir George Touchwood.--Who is the most wedded to Amusement and Dissipation? Sir George Touchwood.--And now Sir George is metamorphosed into a sour Censor; and talks of Fashionable Life with as much bitterness, as the old crabbed Fellow in Rome.

_Sir Geo._ The moment I became possessed of such a jewel as Lady Frances, every thing wore a different complexion: that Society in which I liv'd with so much _éclat_, became the object of my terror; and I think of the manners of Polite Life, as I do of the atmosphere of a Pest-house.--My Wife is already infected; she was set upon this morning by Maids, Widows, and Bachelors, who carried her off in triumph, in spite of my displeasure.

_Vill._ Aye, to be sure; there would have been no triumph in the case, if you had not oppos'd it:--but I have heard the whole story from Mrs. Racket; and I assure you, Lady Frances didn't enjoy the morning at all;--she wish'd for you fifty times.

_Sir Geo._ Indeed! Are you sure of that?

_Vill._ Perfectly sure.

_Sir Geo._ I wish I had known it:----my uneasiness at dinner was occasioned by very different ideas.

_Vill._ Here then she comes, to receive your apology; but if she is true Woman, her displeasure will rise in proportion to your contrition;--and till you grow careless about her pardon, she won't grant it:----however, I'll leave you.----Matrimonial Duets are seldom set in the style I like. [_Exit_ Villers.

_Enter Lady_ Frances.

_Sir Geo._ The sweet sorrow that glitters in these eyes, I cannot bear (_embracing her_). Look chearfully, you Rogue.

_Lady Fran._ I cannot look otherwise, if you are pleas'd with me.

_Sir Geo._ Well, Fanny, to-day you made your _entrée_ in the Fashionable World; tell me honestly the impressions you receiv'd.

_Lady Fran._ Indeed, Sir George, I was so hurried from place to place, that I had not time to find out what my impressions were.

_Sir Geo._ That's the very spirit of the life you have chosen.

_Lady Fran._ Every body about me seem'd happy--but every body seem'd in a hurry to be happy somewhere else.

_Sir Geo._ And you like this?

_Lady Fran._ One must like what the rest of the World likes.

_Sir Geo._ Pernicious maxim!

_Lady Fran._ But, my dear Sir George, you have not promis'd to go with me to the Masquerade.

_Sir Geo._ 'Twould be a shocking indecorum to be seen together, you know.

_Lady Fran._ Oh, no; I ask'd Mrs. Racket, and she told me we might be seen together at the Masquerade--without being laugh'd at.

_Sir Geo._ Really?

_Lady Fran._ Indeed, to tell you the truth, I could wish it was the fashion for married people to be inseparable; for I have more heart-felt satisfaction in fifteen minutes with you at my side, than fifteen days of amusement could give me without you.

_Sir Geo._ My sweet Creature! How that confession charms me!--Let us begin the Fashion.

_Lady Fran._ O, impossible! We should not gain a single proselyte; and you can't conceive what spiteful things would be said of us.--At Kensington to-day a Lady met us, whom we saw at Court, when we were presented; she lifted up her hands in amazement!----Bless me! said she to her companion, here's Lady Francis without Sir Hurlo Thrumbo!--My dear Mrs. Racket, consider what an important charge you have! for Heaven's sake take her home again, or some Enchanter on a flying Dragon will descend and carry her off.--Oh, said another, I dare say Lady Frances has a clue at her heel, like the peerless Rosamond:--her tender swain would never have trusted her so far without such a precaution.

_Sir Geo._ Heav'n and Earth!----How shall Innocence preserve its lustre amidst manners so corrupt!--My dear Fanny, I feel a sentiment for thee at this moment, tenderer than Love--more animated than Passion.----I could weep over that purity, expos'd to the sullying breath of Fashion, and the _Ton_, in whose latitudinary vortex Chastity herself can scarcely move unspotted.

_Enter_ Gibson.

_Gib._ Your Honour talk'd, I thought, something about going to the Masquerade?

_Sir Geo._ Well.

_Gib._ Isn't it?--hasn't your Honour?--I thought your Honour had forgot to order a Dress.

_Lady Fran._ Well consider'd, Gibson.--Come, will you be Jew, Turk, or Heretic; a Chinese Emperor, or a Ballad-Singer; a Rake, or a Watchman?

_Sir Geo._ Oh, neither, my Love; I can't take the trouble to support a character.

_Lady Fran._ You'll wear a Domino then:--I saw a pink Domino trimm'd with blue at the shop where I bought my Habit.--Would you like it?

_Sir Geo._ Any thing, any thing.

_Lady Fran._ Then go about it directly, Gibson.----A pink Domino trimm'd with blue, and a Hat of the same--Come, you have not seen my Dress yet--it is most beautiful; I long to have it on.

[_Exeunt_ Sir George _and_ Lady Frances.

_Gib._ A pink Domino trimm'd with blue, and a Hat of the same----What the devil can it signify to Sally now what his Dress is to be?--Surely the Slut has not made an assignation to meet her Master! [_Exit_ Gibson.

END OF THE THIRD ACT.