"Lord T. That may be, madam; but I'll order the doors to be locked at twelve.
"Lady T. Then I won't come home till to-morrow night.
"Lord T. Then, madam, you shall never come home again." [Exit Lord
Townley.
* * * * *
In the end, of course, Lady Townley is converted to the pleasures of domesticity, and ends the comedy by saying:
"So visible the bliss, so plain the way,
How was it possible my sense could stray?
But now, a convert to this truth I come,
That married happiness is never found from home."
Perhaps when Oldfield delivered these virtuous lines, she thought to herself that happiness, even of the unmarried kind, was never very far away from home. But she forgot sentiment when she came back to give the breezy epilogue:
"Methinks I hear some powder'd critics say
Damn it, this wife reform'd has spoil'd the play!
The coxcombs should have drawn her more in fashion,
Have gratify'd her softer inclination,
Have tipt her a gallant, and clinch'd the provocation.
But there our bard stops short: for 'twere uncivil
T'have made a modern belle all o'er a devil!
He hop'd in honor of the sex, the age
Would bear one mended woman—on the stage."
Continuing, after diverse moral reflections, Nance made this appeal to her hearers:
"You, you then, ladies, whose unquestion'd lives
Give you the foremost fame of happy wives,
Protect, for its attempt, this helpless play;
Nor leave it to the vulgar taste a prey;
Appear the frequent champion of its cause,
Direct the crowd, and give yourselves applause."