ter known to you; you come out of the country I adore. And how does the dear Battist ?* I long for some of his new compositions in the last opera. A propos! I have had the most happy invention this morning, and a tune trouling in my head; I rise immediately in my night-gown and slippers, down I put the notes slap-dash, made words to them like lightning; and I warrant you have them at the circle in the evening.

Wood. All were complete, sir, if S. Andre would make steps to them.

Brain. Nay, thanks to my genius, that care's over: you shall see, you shall see. But first the air. [Sings.] Is it not very fine? Ha, messieurs!

Limb. The close of it is the most ravishing I ever heard!

Brain. I dwell not on your commendations.——— What say you, sir? [To WOOD.] Is it not admirable? Do you enter into it?

Wood. Most delicate cadence!

Brain. Gad, I think so, without vanity. Battist and I have but one soul. But the close, the close! [Sings it thrice over.] I have words too upon the air; but I am naturally so bashful!

Wood. Will you oblige me, sir?

Brain. You might command me, sir; for I sing too en cavalier: but

Limb. But you would be entreated, and say, Nolo, nolo, nolo, three times, like any bishop, when your mouth waters at the diocese.

Brain. I have no voice; but since this gentleman commands me, let the words commend themselves. [Sings.

My Phillis is charming

Limb. But why, of all names, would you chuse a Phillis? There have been so many Phillises in songs,

* Sulli, the famous composer.

I thought there had not been another left, for love or money.

Brain. If a man should listen to a fop! [Sings. My Phillis

Aldo. Before George, I am on t'other side: I think, as good no song, as no Phillis.

Brain. Yet again!-My Phillis- [Sings. Limb. Pray, for my sake, let it be your Chloris. Brain. [Looking scornfully at him.] My Phillis[Sings.

Limb. You had as good call her your Succuba. Brain. Morbleu! will you not give me leave? I am full of Phillis. [Sings.] My Phillis

Limb. Nay, I confess, Phillis is a very pretty

name.

Brain. Diable! Now I will not sing, to spite you. By the world, you are not worthy of it. Well, I have a gentleman's fortune; I have courage, and make no inconsiderable figure in the world; yet I would quit my pretensions to all these, rather than not be author of this sonnet, which your rudeness has irrevocably lost.

Limb. Some foolish French quelque chose, I warrant you.

Brain. Quelque chose! O ignorance, in supreme perfection! he means a kek shose.*

Limb. Why a kek shoes let it be then! and a kek shoes for your song.

Brain. I give to the devil such a judge. Well, were I to be born again, I would as soon be the elephant, as a wit; he's less a monster in this age of malice. I could burn my sonnet, out of rage.

* It would seem that about this time the French were adopting their present mode of pronunciation, so capriciously distinct from the orthography.

Limb. You may use your pleasure with your own. Wood. His friends would not suffer him? Virgil was not permitted to burn his Eneids.

Brain. Dear sir, I'll not die ungrateful for your approbation. [Aside to Woon.] You see this fellow? he is an ass already; he has a handsome mistress, and you shall make an ox of him ere long.

Wood. Say no more, it shall be done.

Limb. Hark you, Mr Woodall; this fool Brainsick grows insupportable; he's a public nuisance; but I scorn to set my wit against him: he has a pretty wife: I say no more; but if you do not graff him

Wood. A word to the wise: I shall consider him, for your sake.

Limb. Pray do, sir; consider him much. Wood. Much is the word.This feud makes well for me. [Aside. Brain. to Wood. I'll give you the opportunity, and rid you of him.-Come away, little Limberham; you, and I, and father Aldo, will take a turn together in the square.

Aldo. We will follow you immediately. Limb. Yes, we will come after you, bully Brainsick but I hope you will not draw upon us there. Brain. If you fear that, Bilbo shall be left behind. Limb. Nay, nay, leave but your madrigal behind; draw not that upon us, and it is no matter for your sword. [Exit BRAIN.

Enter TRICKSY, and Mrs BRAINSICK, with a note for each.

Wood. [Aside.] Both together! either of them, apart, had been my business; but I shall never play well at this three-hand game.

Limb. O Pug, how have you been passing your time?

Trick. I have been looking over the last present of orange gloves you made me; and methinks I do not like the scent.-O Lord, Mr Woodall, did you bring those you wear from Paris?

Wood. Mine are Roman, madam.

Trick. The scent I love, of all the world. Pray let me see them.

Mrs Brain. Nay, not both, good Mrs Tricksy; for I love that scent as well as you.

Wood. [Pulling them off, and giving each one.] I shall find two dozen more of women's gloves among my trifles, if you please to accept them, ladies.

Trick. Look to it; we shall expect them.-Now to put in my billet-doux !

Mrs Brain. So, now, I have the opportunity to thrust in my note.

Trick. Here, sir, take your gloves again; fume's too strong for me.

the per

Mrs Brain. Pray take the other to it; though I should have kept it for a pawn.

[Mrs BRAINSICK's note falls out, LIMB. takes it up. Limb. What have we here? [Reads.] For Mr Woodall!

Both Women. Hold, hold, Mr Limberham! [They snatch it. Aldo. Before George, son Limberham, you shall

read it.

Wood. By your favour, sir, but he must not. Trick. He'll know my hand, and I am ruined! Mrs Brain. Oh, my misfortune! Mr Woodall, will you suffer your secrets to be discovered!

Wood. It belongs to one of them, that's certain.Mr Limberham, I must desire you to restore this letter; it is from my mistress.

Trick. The devil's in him; will he confess? Wood. This paper was sent me from her this morning; and I was so fond of it, that I left it in

my glove: If one of the ladies had found it there, I should have been laughed at most unmercifully. Mrs Brain. That's well come off!

Limb. My heart was at my mouth, for fear it had been Pug's. [Aside.]-There 'tis again-Hold, hold; pray, let me see it once more: a mistress, said you? Aldo. Yes, a mistress, sir. I'll be his voucher, he has a mistress, and a fair one too.

Limb. Do you know it, father Aldo.

Aldo. Know it! I know the match is as good as made already : old Woodall and I are all one. You, son, were sent for over on purpose; the articles for her jointure are all concluded, and a friend of mine drew them.

Limb. Nay, if father Aldo knows it, I am satisfied.

Aldo. But how came you by this letter, son Woodall? let me examine you.

Wood. Came by it! (pox, he has non-plus'd me!) How do you say I came by it, father Áldo?

Aldo. Why, there's it, now. This morning I met your mistress's father, Mr you know who Wood. Mr who, sir?

Aldo. Nay, you shall excuse me for that; but we are intimate his name begins with some vowel or consonant, no matter which: Well, her father gave me this very numerical letter, subscribed, for Mr Woodall.

Limb. Before George, and so it is.

Aldo. Carry me this letter, quoth he, to your son Woodall; 'tis from my daughter such a one, and then whispered me her name.

Wood. Let me see; I'll read it once again. Limb. What, are you not acquainted with the contents of it?

Wood. O, your true lover will read you over a letter from his mistress, a thousand times.