"Lady T. Is, to me, the pleasantest life in the world. "Lord T. I should not dispute your taste, madam, if a woman had a right to please nobody but herself. "Lady T. Why, whom would you have her please? "Lord T. Sometimes her husband. "Lady T. And don't you think a husband under the same obligation? "Lord T. Certainly. "Lady T. Why then we are agreed, my lord. For if I never go abroad till I am weary of being at home--which you know is the case--is it not equally reasonable, not to come home till one's a weary of being abroad? "Lord T. If this be your rule of life, madam, 'tis time to ask you one serious question. "Lady T. Don't let it be long acoming then, for I am in haste. "Lord T. Madam, when I am serious, I expect a serious answer. "Lady T. Before I know the question? [Here we can imagine Wilks, who played Lord Townley, waxing exceeding wroth at my lady.] "Lord T. Pshah--have I power, madam, to make you serious by intreaty? "Lady T. You have. "Lord T. And you promise to answer me sincerely. "Lady T. Sincerely. "Lord T. Now then recollect your thoughts, and tell me seriously why you married me? "Lady T. You insist upon truth, you say? "Lord T. I think I have a right to it. "Lady T. Why then, my lord, to give you at once a proof of my obedience and sincerity--I think--I married--to take off that restraint that lay upon my pleasures, while I was a single woman. "Lord T. How, madam, is any woman under less restraint after marriage than before it? "Lady T. O my lord! my lord! they are quite different creatures! Wives have infinite liberties in life that would be terrible in an unmarried woman to take. "Lord T. Name one. "Lady T. Fifty, if you please. To begin then, in the morning--a married women may have men at her toilet, invite them to dinner, appoint them a party in a stage box at the play; engross the conversation there, call 'em by their Christian names; talk louder than the players;--from thence jaunt into the city--take a frolicksome supper at an India house--perhaps, in her _gaieté de coeur_, toast a pretty fellow--then clatter again to this end of the town, break with the morning into an assembly, crowd to the hazard table, throw a familiar levant upon some sharp lurching man of quality, and if he demands his money, turn it off with a loud laugh, and cry--you'll owe it to him, to vex him! ha! ha! "Lord T. [_Aside_]. Prodigious!" It is related that so magnificently did Oldfield describe the pleasures of a woman of fashion that the audience echoed, with a different meaning, Lord Townley's comment, and showered her with plaudits. "Prodigious," indeed, must have been her acting. Nance was even more captivating, as the comedy progressed, and nowhere did she shine more brilliantly, it may be supposed, than in the following scene: "Lady Townley. Well! look you, my lord; I can bear it no longer! Nothing still but about my faults, my faults! An agreeable subject truly!