No More Learning

and while
Celestial blushes check thy conscious smile,
With timid grace, and hesitating eye,
The perfect model, which I boast, supply:--
Vain Muse! couldst thou the humblest sketch create
Of her, or slightest charm couldst imitate--
Could thy blest strain in kindred colours trace
The faintest wonder of her form and face--
Poets would study the immortal line,
And REYNOLDS own HIS art subdued by thine;
That art, which well might added lustre give
To Nature's best and Heaven's superlative:
On GRANBY'S cheek might bid new glories rise,
Or point a purer beam from DEVON'S eyes!
Hard is the task to shape that beauty's praise,
Whose judgment scorns the homage flattery pays!
But praising Amoret we cannot err,
No tongue o'ervalues Heaven, or flatters her!
Yet she, by Fate's perverseness--she alone
Would doubt our truth, nor deem such praise her own!
Adorning Fashion, unadorn'd by dress,
Simple from taste, and not from carelessness;
Discreet in gesture, in deportment mild,
Not stiff with prudence, nor uncouthly wild:
No state has AMORET! no studied mien;
She frowns no GODDESS, and she moves no QUEEN.
The softer charm that in her manner lies
Is framed to captivate, yet not surprise;
It justly suits th' expression of her face,--
'Tis less than dignity, and more than grace!
On her pure cheek the native hue is such,
That, form'd by Heav'n to be admired so much,
The hand divine, with a less partial care,
Might well have fix'd a fainter crimson there,
And bade the gentle inmate of her breast,--
Inshrined Modesty! --supply the rest.
But who the peril of her lips shall paint?
Strip them of smiles--still, still all words are faint!
But moving Love himself appears to teach
Their action, though denied to rule her speech;
And thou who seest her speak and dost not hear,
Mourn not her distant accents 'scape thine ear;
Viewing those lips, thou still may'st make pretence
To judge of what she says, and swear 'tis sense:
Cloth'd with such grace, with such expression fraught,
They move in meaning, and they pause in thought!
But dost thou farther watch, with charm'd surprise,
The mild irresolution of her eyes,
Curious to mark how frequent they repose,
In brief eclipse and momentary close--
Ah! seest thou not an ambush'd Cupid there,
Too tim'rous of his charge, with jealous care
Veils and unveils those beams of heav'nly light,
Too full, too fatal else, for mortal sight?
Nor yet, such pleasing vengeance fond to meet,
In pard'ning dimples hope a safe retreat.
What though her peaceful breast should ne'er allow
Subduing frowns to arm her altered brow,
By Love, I swear, and by his gentle wiles,
More fatal still the mercy of her smiles!
Thus lovely, thus adorn'd, possessing all
Of bright or fair that can to woman fall,
The height of vanity might well be thought
Prerogative in her, and Nature's fault.
Yet gentle AMORET, in mind supreme
As well as charms, rejects the vainer theme;
And, half mistrustful of her beauty's store,
She barbs with wit those darts too keen before:--
Read in all knowledge that her sex should reach,
Though GREVILLE, or the MUSE, should deign to teach,
Fond to improve, nor tim'rous to discern
How far it is a woman's grace to learn;
In MILLAR'S dialect she would not prove
Apollo's priestess, but Apollo's love,
Graced by those signs which truth delights to own,
The timid blush, and mild submitted tone:
Whate'er she says, though sense appear throughout,
Displays the tender hue of female doubt;
Deck'd with that charm, how lovely wit appears,
How graceful SCIENCE, when that robe she wears!
Such too her talents, and her bent of mind,
As speak a sprightly heart by thought refined:
A taste for mirth, by contemplation school'd,
A turn for ridicule, by candour ruled,
A scorn of folly, which she tries to hide;
An awe of talent, which she owns with pride!
Peace, idle Muse! no more thy strain prolong,
But yield a theme thy warmest praises wrong;
Just to her merit, though thou canst not raise
Thy feeble verse, behold th' acknowledged praise
Has spread conviction through the envious train,
And cast a fatal gloom o'er Scandal's reign!
And lo! each pallid hag, with blister'd tongue,
Mutters assent to all thy zeal has sung--
Owns all the colours just--the outline true;
Thee my inspirer, and my MODEL--CREWE!



DRAMATIS PERSONAE<2>

SIR PETER TEAZLE Mr. King
SIR OLIVER SURFACE Mr. Yates
YOUNG SURFACE Mr. Palmer
CHARLES (his Brother) Mr. Smith
CRABTREE Mr. Parsons
SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE Mr. Dodd
ROWLEY Mr. Aikin
SPUNGE
MOSES
SNAKE
CARELESS--and other companions to CHARLES

LADY TEAZLE
MARIA
LADY SNEERWELL
MRS. CANDOUR
MISS VERJUICE




PROLOGUE WRITTEN BY MR. GARRICK

A school for Scandal! tell me, I beseech you,
Needs there a school this modish art to teach you?
No need of lessons now, the knowing think;
We might as well be taught to eat and drink.
Caused by a dearth of scandal, should the vapours
Distress our fair ones--let them read the papers;
Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit;
Crave what you will--there's quantum sufficit.
"Lord! " cries my Lady Wormwood (who loves tattle,
And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle),
Just risen at noon, all night at cards when threshing
Strong tea and scandal--"Bless me, how refreshing!
Give me the papers, Lisp--how bold and free! [Sips. ]
LAST NIGHT LORD L. [Sips] WAS CAUGHT WITH LADY D.
For aching heads what charming sal volatile! [Sips. ]
IF MRS. B. WILL STILL CONTINUE FLIRTING,
WE HOPE SHE'LL draw, OR WE'LL undraw THE CURTAIN.
Fine satire, poz--in public all abuse it,
But, by ourselves [Sips], our praise we can't refuse it.
Now, Lisp, read you--there, at that dash and star:"
"Yes, ma'am--A CERTAIN LORD HAD BEST BEWARE,
WHO LIVES NOT TWENTY MILES FROM GROSVENOR SQUARE;
FOR, SHOULD HE LADY W. FIND WILLING,
WORMWOOD IS BITTER"----"Oh! that's me! the villain!
Throw it behind the fire, and never more
Let that vile paper come within my door. "
Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart;
To reach our feelings, we ourselves must smart.
Is our young bard so young, to think that he
Can stop the full spring-tide of calumny?
Knows he the world so little, and its trade?
Alas! the devil's sooner raised than laid.
So strong, so swift, the monster there's no gagging:
Cut Scandal's head off, still the tongue is wagging.
Proud of your smiles once lavishly bestow'd,
Again our young Don Quixote takes the road;
To show his gratitude he draws his pen,
And seeks his hydra, Scandal, in his den.
For your applause all perils he would through--
He'll fight--that's write--a cavalliero true,
Till every drop of blood--that's ink--is spilt for you.




ACT I


SCENE I. --LADY SNEERWELL'S House

LADY SNEERWELL at her dressing table with LAPPET; MISS VERJUICE drinking
chocolate

LADY SNEERWELL. The Paragraphs you say were all inserted:

VERJUICE. They were Madam--and as I copied them myself in a feigned Hand
there can be no suspicion whence they came.

LADY SNEERWELL. Did you circulate the Report of Lady Brittle's Intrigue
with Captain Boastall?

VERJUICE. Madam by this Time Lady Brittle is the Talk of half the
Town--and I doubt not in a week the Men will toast her as a Demirep.

LADY SNEERWELL. What have you done as to the insinuation as to a certain
Baronet's Lady and a certain Cook.

VERJUICE. That is in as fine a Train as your Ladyship could wish. I told
the story yesterday to my own maid with directions to communicate it
directly to my Hairdresser. He I am informed has a Brother who courts a
Milliners' Prentice in Pallmall whose mistress has a first cousin whose
sister is Feme [Femme] de Chambre to Mrs. Clackit--so that in the
common course of Things it must reach Mrs. Clackit's Ears within
four-and-twenty hours and then you know the Business is as good as done.

LADY SNEERWELL. Why truly Mrs. Clackit has a very pretty Talent--a great
deal of industry--yet--yes--been tolerably successful in her way--To my
knowledge she has been the cause of breaking off six matches[,] of three
sons being disinherited and four Daughters being turned out of Doors.
Of three several Elopements, as many close confinements--nine separate
maintenances and two Divorces. --nay I have more than once traced her
causing a Tete-a-Tete in the Town and Country Magazine--when the Parties
perhaps had never seen each other's Faces before in the course of their
Lives.

VERJUICE. She certainly has Talents.

LADY SNEERWELL. But her manner is gross.

VERJUICE. 'Tis very true. She generally designs well[,] has a free
tongue and a bold invention--but her colouring is too dark and her
outline often extravagant--She wants that delicacy of Tint--and
mellowness of sneer--which distinguish your Ladyship's Scandal.

LADY SNEERWELL. Ah you are Partial Verjuice.

VERJUICE. Not in the least--everybody allows that Lady Sneerwell can do
more with a word or a Look than many can with the most laboured Detail
even when they happen to have a little truth on their side to support
it.

LADY SNEERWELL. Yes my dear Verjuice. I am no Hypocrite to deny the
satisfaction I reap from the Success of my Efforts. Wounded myself, in
the early part of my Life by the envenomed Tongue of Slander I confess
I have since known no Pleasure equal to the reducing others to the Level
of my own injured Reputation.

VERJUICE. Nothing can be more natural--But my dear Lady Sneerwell There
is one affair in which you have lately employed me, wherein, I confess I
am at a Loss to guess your motives.

LADY SNEERWELL. I conceive you mean with respect to my neighbour, Sir
Peter Teazle, and his Family--Lappet. --And has my conduct in this matter
really appeared to you so mysterious?

[Exit MAID. ]

VERJUICE. Entirely so.

LADY SNEERWELL. [VERJUICE. ? ] An old Batchelor as Sir Peter was[,] having
taken a young wife from out of the Country--as Lady Teazle is--are
certainly fair subjects for a little mischievous raillery--but here are
two young men--to whom Sir Peter has acted as a kind of Guardian since
their Father's death, the eldest possessing the most amiable Character
and universally well spoken of[,] the youngest the most dissipated
and extravagant young Fellow in the Kingdom, without Friends or
caracter--the former one an avowed admirer of yours and apparently
your Favourite[,] the latter attached to Maria Sir Peter's ward--and
confessedly beloved by her. Now on the face of these circumstances it
is utterly unaccountable to me why you a young Widow with no great
jointure--should not close with the passion of a man of such character
and expectations as Mr. Surface--and more so why you should be so
uncommonly earnest to destroy the mutual Attachment subsisting between
his Brother Charles and Maria.

LADY SNEERWELL. Then at once to unravel this mistery--I must inform you
that Love has no share whatever in the intercourse between Mr. Surface
and me.

VERJUICE. No!

LADY SNEERWELL. His real attachment is to Maria or her Fortune--but
finding in his Brother a favoured Rival, He has been obliged to mask his
Pretensions--and profit by my Assistance.

VERJUICE. Yet still I am more puzzled why you should interest yourself
in his success.

LADY SNEERWELL. Heavens! how dull you are! cannot you surmise the
weakness which I hitherto, thro' shame have concealed even from
you--must I confess that Charles--that Libertine, that extravagant, that
Bankrupt in Fortune and Reputation--that He it is for whom I am thus
anxious and malicious and to gain whom I would sacrifice--everything----

VERJUICE. Now indeed--your conduct appears consistent and I no longer
wonder at your enmity to Maria, but how came you and Surface so
confidential?

LADY SNEERWELL. For our mutual interest--but I have found out him a long
time since[,] altho' He has contrived to deceive everybody beside--I
know him to be artful selfish and malicious--while with Sir Peter, and
indeed with all his acquaintance, He passes for a youthful Miracle of
Prudence--good sense and Benevolence.

VERJUICE. Yes yes--I know Sir Peter vows He has not his equal in
England; and, above all, He praises him as a MAN OF SENTIMENT.

LADY SNEERWELL. True and with the assistance of his sentiments and
hypocrisy he has brought Sir Peter entirely in his interests with
respect to Maria and is now I believe attempting to flatter Lady Teazle
into the same good opinion towards him--while poor Charles has no Friend
in the House--though I fear he has a powerful one in Maria's Heart,
against whom we must direct our schemes.

SERVANT. Mr. Surface.

LADY SNEERWELL. Shew him up. He generally calls about this Time. I don't
wonder at People's giving him to me for a Lover.

Enter SURFACE

SURFACE. My dear Lady Sneerwell, how do you do to-day--your most
obedient.

LADY SNEERWELL. Miss Verjuice has just been arraigning me on our mutual
attachment now; but I have informed her of our real views and the
Purposes for which our Geniuses at present co-operate. You know
how useful she has been to us--and believe me the confidence is not
ill-placed.

SURFACE. Madam, it is impossible for me to suspect that a Lady of Miss
Verjuice's sensibility and discernment----

LADY SNEERWELL. Well--well--no compliments now--but tell me when you saw
your mistress or what is more material to me your Brother.

SURFACE. I have not seen either since I saw you--but I can inform you
that they are at present at Variance--some of your stories have taken
good effect on Maria.

LADY SNEERWELL. Ah! my dear Verjuice the merit of this belongs to you.
But do your Brother's Distresses encrease?

SURFACE. Every hour. I am told He had another execution in his house
yesterday--in short his Dissipation and extravagance exceed anything I
have ever heard of.

LADY SNEERWELL. Poor Charles!

SURFACE. True Madam--notwithstanding his Vices one can't help feeling
for him--ah poor Charles! I'm sure I wish it was in my Power to be of
any essential Service to him--for the man who does not share in
the Distresses of a Brother--even though merited by his own
misconduct--deserves----

LADY SNEERWELL. O Lud you are going to be moral, and forget that you are
among Friends.

SURFACE. Egad, that's true--I'll keep that sentiment till I see Sir
Peter. However it is certainly a charity to rescue Maria from such a
Libertine who--if He is to be reclaim'd, can be so only by a Person of
your Ladyship's superior accomplishments and understanding.

VERJUICE. 'Twould be a Hazardous experiment.

SURFACE. But--Madam--let me caution you to place no more confidence in
our Friend Snake the Libeller--I have lately detected him in frequent
conference with old Rowland [Rowley] who was formerly my Father's
Steward and has never been a friend of mine.

LADY SNEERWELL. I'm not disappointed in Snake, I never suspected the
fellow to have virtue enough to be faithful even to his own Villany.

Enter MARIA

Maria my dear--how do you do--what's the matter?

MARIA. O here is that disagreeable lover of mine, Sir Benjamin Backbite,
has just call'd at my guardian's with his odious Uncle Crabtree--so I
slipt out and ran hither to avoid them.

LADY SNEERWELL. Is that all?

VERJUICE. Lady Sneerwell--I'll go and write the Letter I mention'd to
you.

SURFACE. If my Brother Charles had been of the Party, madam, perhaps you
would not have been so much alarmed.

LADY SNEERWELL. Nay now--you are severe for I dare swear the Truth
of the matter is Maria heard YOU were here--but my dear--what has Sir
Benjamin done that you should avoid him so----

MARIA. Oh He has done nothing--but his conversation is a perpetual Libel
on all his Acquaintance.

SURFACE. Aye and the worst of it is there is no advantage in not knowing
Them, for He'll abuse a stranger just as soon as his best Friend--and
Crabtree is as bad.

LADY SNEERWELL. Nay but we should make allowance[--]Sir Benjamin is a
wit and a poet.

MARIA. For my Part--I own madam--wit loses its respect with me, when I
see it in company with malice. --What do you think, Mr. Surface?

SURFACE. Certainly, Madam, to smile at the jest which plants a Thorn on
another's Breast is to become a principal in the mischief.

LADY SNEERWELL. Pshaw--there's no possibility of being witty without a
little [ill] nature--the malice of a good thing is the Barb that makes
it stick. --What's your opinion, Mr. Surface?

SURFACE. Certainly madam--that conversation where the Spirit of Raillery
is suppressed will ever appear tedious and insipid--

MARIA. Well I'll not debate how far Scandal may be allowable--but in a
man I am sure it is always contemtable.
--We have Pride, envy, Rivalship,
and a Thousand motives to depreciate each other--but the male-slanderer
must have the cowardice of a woman before He can traduce one.

LADY SNEERWELL. I wish my Cousin Verjuice hadn't left us--she should
embrace you.

SURFACE. Ah! she's an old maid and is privileged of course.

Enter SERVANT

Madam Mrs. Candour is below and if your Ladyship's at leisure will leave
her carriage.

LADY SNEERWELL. Beg her to walk in. Now, Maria[,] however here is a
Character to your Taste, for tho' Mrs. Candour is a little talkative
everybody allows her to be the best-natured and best sort of woman.

MARIA. Yes with a very gross affectation of good Nature and
Benevolence--she does more mischief than the Direct malice of old
Crabtree.

SURFACE. Efaith 'tis very true Lady Sneerwell--Whenever I hear the
current running again the characters of my Friends, I never think them
in such Danger as when Candour undertakes their Defence.

LADY SNEERWELL. Hush here she is----

Enter MRS. CANDOUR

MRS. CANDOUR. My dear Lady Sneerwell how have you been this Century.
I have never seen you tho' I have heard of you very often. --Mr.
Surface--the World says scandalous things of you--but indeed it is
no matter what the world says, for I think one hears nothing else but
scandal.

SURFACE. Just so, indeed, Ma'am.

MRS. CANDOUR. Ah Maria Child--what[! ] is the whole affair off between
you and Charles? His extravagance; I presume--The Town talks of nothing
else----

MARIA. I am very sorry, Ma'am, the Town has so little to do.

MRS. CANDOUR. True, true, Child; but there's no stopping people's
Tongues. I own I was hurt to hear it--as I indeed was to learn from the
same quarter that your guardian, Sir Peter[,] and Lady Teazle have not
agreed lately so well as could be wish'd.

MARIA. 'Tis strangely impertinent for people to busy themselves so.

MRS. CANDOUR. Very true, Child; but what's to be done? People will
talk--there's no preventing it. --why it was but yesterday I was told
that Miss Gadabout had eloped with Sir Filagree Flirt. But, Lord! there
is no minding what one hears; tho' to be sure I had this from very good
authority.

MARIA. Such reports are highly scandalous.

MRS. CANDOUR. So they are Child--shameful! shameful! but the world is
so censorious no character escapes. Lord, now! who would have suspected
your friend, Miss Prim, of an indiscretion Yet such is the ill-nature
of people, that they say her unkle stopped her last week just as she was
stepping into a Postchaise with her Dancing-master.

MARIA. I'll answer for't there are no grounds for the Report.

MRS. CANDOUR. Oh, no foundation in the world I dare swear[;] no more
probably than for the story circulated last month, of Mrs. Festino's
affair with Colonel Cassino--tho' to be sure that matter was never
rightly clear'd up.

SURFACE. The license of invention some people take is monstrous indeed.

MARIA. 'Tis so but in my opinion, those who report such things are
equally culpable.

MRS. CANDOUR. To be sure they are[;] Tale Bearers are as bad as the Tale
makers--'tis an old observation and a very true one--but what's to be
done as I said before--how will you prevent People from talking--to-day,
Mrs. Clackitt assured me, Mr. and Mrs. Honeymoon were at last become
mere man and wife--like [the rest of their] acquaintance--she likewise
hinted that a certain widow in the next street had got rid of her Dropsy
and recovered her shape in a most surprising manner--at the same [time]
Miss Tattle, who was by affirm'd, that Lord Boffalo had discover'd his
Lady at a house of no extraordinary Fame--and that Sir Harry Bouquet and
Tom Saunter were to measure swords on a similar Provocation. But--Lord!
do you think I would report these Things--No, no[! ] Tale Bearers as I
said before are just as bad as the talemakers.

SURFACE. Ah! Mrs. Candour, if everybody had your Forbearance and good
nature--

MRS. CANDOUR. I confess Mr. Surface I cannot bear to hear People
traduced behind their Backs[;] and when ugly circumstances come out
against our acquaintances I own I always love to think the best--by the
bye I hope 'tis not true that your Brother is absolutely ruin'd--

SURFACE. I am afraid his circumstances are very bad indeed, Ma'am--

MRS. CANDOUR. Ah! I heard so--but you must tell him to keep up his
Spirits--everybody almost is in the same way--Lord Spindle, Sir Thomas
Splint, Captain Quinze, and Mr. Nickit--all up, I hear, within this
week; so, if Charles is undone, He'll find half his Acquaintance ruin'd
too, and that, you know, is a consolation--

SURFACE. Doubtless, Ma'am--a very great one.

Enter SERVANT

SERVANT. Mr. Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite.

LADY SNEERWELL. Soh! Maria, you see your lover pursues you--Positively
you shan't escape.

Enter CRABTREE and SIR BENJAMIN BACKBITE

CRABTREE. Lady Sneerwell, I kiss your hand. Mrs. Candour I don't believe
you are acquainted with my Nephew Sir Benjamin Backbite--Egad, Ma'am, He
has a pretty wit--and is a pretty Poet too isn't He Lady Sneerwell?

SIR BENJAMIN. O fie, Uncle!

CRABTREE. Nay egad it's true--I back him at a Rebus or a Charade against
the best Rhymer in the Kingdom--has your Ladyship heard the Epigram he
wrote last week on Lady Frizzle's Feather catching Fire--Do Benjamin
repeat it--or the Charade you made last Night extempore at Mrs.
Drowzie's conversazione--Come now your first is the Name of a Fish, your
second a great naval commander--and

SIR BENJAMIN. Dear Uncle--now--prithee----

CRABTREE. Efaith, Ma'am--'twould surprise you to hear how ready he is at
all these Things.

LADY SNEERWELL. I wonder Sir Benjamin you never publish anything.

SIR BENJAMIN. To say truth, Ma'am, 'tis very vulgar to Print and as my
little Productions are mostly Satires and Lampoons I find they
circulate more by giving copies in confidence to the Friends of the
Parties--however I have some love-Elegies, which, when favoured with
this lady's smile I mean to give to the Public.

[Pointing to MARIA. ]

CRABTREE. 'Fore Heaven, ma'am, they'll immortalize you--you'll be handed
down to Posterity, like Petrarch's Laura, or Waller's Sacharissa.

SIR BENJAMIN. Yes Madam I think you will like them--when you shall see
in a beautiful Quarto Page how a neat rivulet of Text shall meander
thro' a meadow of margin--'fore Gad, they will be the most elegant
Things of their kind--

CRABTREE. But Ladies, have you heard the news?

MRS. CANDOUR. What, Sir, do you mean the Report of----

CRABTREE. No ma'am that's not it. --Miss Nicely is going to be married to
her own Footman.

MRS. CANDOUR. Impossible!

CRABTREE. Ask Sir Benjamin.

SIR BENJAMIN. 'Tis very true, Ma'am--everything is fixed and the wedding
Livery bespoke.

CRABTREE. Yes and they say there were pressing reasons for't.

MRS. CANDOUR. It cannot be--and I wonder any one should believe such a
story of so prudent a Lady as Miss Nicely.

SIR BENJAMIN. O Lud! ma'am, that's the very reason 'twas believed at
once. She has always been so cautious and so reserved, that everybody
was sure there was some reason for it at bottom.

LADY SNEERWELL. Yes a Tale of Scandal is as fatal to the Reputation of
a prudent Lady of her stamp as a Fever is generally to those of the
strongest Constitutions, but there is a sort of puny sickly Reputation,
that is always ailing yet will outlive the robuster characters of a
hundred Prudes.

SIR BENJAMIN. True Madam there are Valetudinarians in Reputation as well
as constitution--who being conscious of their weak Part, avoid the
least breath of air, and supply their want of Stamina by care and
circumspection--

MRS. CANDOUR. Well but this may be all mistake--You know, Sir Benjamin
very trifling circumstances often give rise to the most injurious Tales.

CRABTREE. That they do I'll be sworn Ma'am--did you ever hear how
Miss Shepherd came to lose her Lover and her Character last summer at
Tunbridge--Sir Benjamin you remember it--

SIR BENJAMIN. O to be sure the most whimsical circumstance--

LADY SNEERWELL. How was it Pray--

CRABTREE. Why one evening at Mrs. Ponto's Assembly--the conversation
happened to turn on the difficulty of breeding Nova-Scotia Sheep in
this country--says a young Lady in company[, "]I have known instances
of it[--]for Miss Letitia Shepherd, a first cousin of mine, had a
Nova-Scotia Sheep that produced her Twins. ["--"]What! ["] cries the old
Dowager Lady Dundizzy (who you know is as deaf as a Post), ["]has Miss
Letitia Shepherd had twins["]--This Mistake--as you may imagine, threw
the whole company into a fit of Laughing--However 'twas the next morning
everywhere reported and in a few Days believed by the whole Town, that
Miss Letitia Shepherd had actually been brought to Bed of a fine Boy
and Girl--and in less than a week there were People who could name the
Father, and the Farm House where the Babies were put out to Nurse.

LADY SNEERWELL. Strange indeed!

CRABTREE. Matter of Fact, I assure you--O Lud! Mr. Surface pray is it
true that your uncle Sir Oliver is coming home--

SURFACE. Not that I know of indeed Sir.

CRABTREE. He has been in the East Indies a long time--you can scarcely
remember him--I believe--sad comfort on his arrival to hear how your
Brother has gone on!

SURFACE. Charles has been imprudent Sir to be sure[;] but I hope no Busy
people have already prejudiced Sir Oliver against him--He may reform--

SIR BENJAMIN. To be sure He may--for my Part I never believed him to be
so utterly void of Principle as People say--and tho' he has lost all his
Friends I am told nobody is better spoken of--by the Jews.

CRABTREE. That's true egad nephew--if the Old Jewry was a Ward I believe
Charles would be an alderman--no man more popular there, 'fore Gad I
hear He pays as many annuities as the Irish Tontine and that whenever
He's sick they have Prayers for the recovery of his Health in the
synagogue--

SIR BENJAMIN. Yet no man lives in greater Splendour:--they tell me when
He entertains his Friends--He can sit down to dinner with a dozen of his
own Securities, have a score Tradesmen waiting in the Anti-Chamber, and
an officer behind every guest's Chair.

SURFACE. This may be entertainment to you Gentlemen but you pay very
little regard to the Feelings of a Brother.

MARIA. Their malice is intolerable--Lady Sneerwell I must wish you a
good morning--I'm not very well.

[Exit MARIA. ]

MRS. CANDOUR. O dear she chang'd colour very much!

LADY SNEERWELL. Do Mrs. Candour follow her--she may want assistance.

MRS. CANDOUR. That I will with all my soul ma'am. --Poor dear Girl--who
knows--what her situation may be!

[Exit MRS. CANDOUR. ]

LADY SNEERWELL. 'Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear
Charles reflected on notwithstanding their difference.

SIR BENJAMIN. The young Lady's Penchant is obvious.

CRABTREE. But Benjamin--you mustn't give up the Pursuit for that--follow
her and put her into good humour--repeat her some of your verses--come,
I'll assist you--

SIR BENJAMIN. Mr. Surface I did not mean to hurt you--but depend on't
your Brother is utterly undone--

[Going. ]

CRABTREE. O Lud! aye--undone--as ever man was--can't raise a guinea.

SIR BENJAMIN. And everything sold--I'm told--that was movable--

[Going. ]

CRABTREE. I was at his house--not a thing left but some empty Bottles
that were overlooked and the Family Pictures, which I believe are framed
in the Wainscot.

[Going. ]

SIR BENJAMIN. And I'm very sorry to hear also some bad stories against
him.

[Going. ]

CRABTREE. O He has done many mean things--that's certain!