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less agreeable in Mr. Doricourt's eyes, than he ap- than Frenchmen ever saw, and more goodness than peared in mine.

Frenchwomen can conceive. Har. There you are mistaken; for I asked him, Doric. Well; enough of description. Introduce and he told me he liked you vastly. Don't you me to this phenix; I came on purpose. think he must have taken a fancy to her? (To Sir G. Introduce !-oh! ay, to be sure! I beMrs. R.)

lieve Lady Frances is engaged just now; but Mrs. R. Why, really I think so; as I was not by- another time. How handsome the dog looks toLet. My dear sir, I am convinced he has not; day! (A side.) but if there is spirit or invention in woman, he Doric. Another time! but I have no other time. shall.

'Sdeath! this is the only hour I can command this Har. Right, girl! go to your toilette.

fortnight. Lat. It is not my toilette that can serve me: Sir G. I am glad to hear it, with all my soul. bat a plan bas struck me, if you will not oppose it, (A side.) So, then, you can't dine with us to-day? which'fatters me with brilliant success.

That's very unlucky. Har. Oppose it! not I indeed! What is it? Doric. Oh! yes, as to dinner; yes, I can, I beLet. Wby, sir—it may seem a little paradoxical- lieve, contrive to dine with you to-day. bat as he does not like me enough, I want him to Sir G. Psha! I didn't think on what I was say. like me still less; and will, at our next interview, | ing; I meant supper. You can't sup with us? endeavour to heighten his indifference into dislike. Doric. Why, supper will be rather more conveHar. Who the devil could bave foreseen that ? nient than dinner. 'Bat you are fortunate; if you

Mrs. R. Heaven and earth! Letitia, are you had asked me any other night, I could not have serioas?

Let. As serious as the most important business Sir G. To-night! 'Gad, now I recollect, we are of my life demands.

particularly engaged to-night. Bat to-morrow Mrs. R. Why endeavour to make him dislike night

Doric. Why, look ve, Sir George, 'tis very plain Let. Because 'tis much easier to convert a sen- your have no inclination to let me see your wife at timent into its opposite, than to transform indiffer- all; so here I sit. (Throws himself on the sofa.) There's ence into tender passion.

my hat, and here are my legs. Now I sha'n't stir Mrs. R. That may be good philosophy, but I'm till I have seen her; and I have no engagements; afraid you'll find it a bad maxim.

I'll breakfast, dine, and sup with you, every day Let. I have the strongest confidence in it. I am this week. inspired with unusual spirits; and, on this hazard, Sir G. Was there ever such a provoking wretch! willingly stake my chance for happiness. I am im- (A side.). But to be plain with you, Doricourt, I patient to begin my measures.

(Exit. and my house are at your service. But you are a Har. Can you foresee the end of this, cousin ? d-d agreeable fellow; and the women, I observe,

Mrs. R. No, sir; nothing less than your pene- always simper when you appear. For these reatration can do that, I am sure ; and I can't stay now sons, I had rather, when Lady Frances and I are to consider it. I am going to call on the Ogles, together, that you should forget that we are acand then to Lady Frances Touchwood's, and then quainted, further than a nod, or a smile, or how to an auction, and then-I don't know where; but d'ye. I shall be at home time enough to witness this ex- Doric. Very well. traordinary interview. Good b'ye. [Exit. Sir G. It is not merely yourself, in propriú per

Har. Well, 'tis an odd thing; I can't understand sonâ, that I object to; but if you are intimate it; bat I foresee Letty will have her way, and so here, you'll make my house still more the fashion I sha'n't give myself the trouble to dispute it. [Exit. than it is; and it is alreadyso much so, that my

doors are of no use to me. "I married Lady Frances ACT II.

to engross her to myself; yet, such is the blessed

freedom of modern manners, that in spite of me, SCENE I.-Sir George Touchwood's House.

her eyes, thoughts, and conversation, are continu

ally divided amongst all the flirts and coxcombs of Eater DORICOURT and Sir GEORGE Touchwood. fashion.

Doric. To be sure, I confess that kind of freeDoric. Married! Ha, ha, ha! You, whom I heard dom is carried rather too far. 'Tis hard one can't in Paris say such things of the sex, are in London bave a jewel in one's cabinet, but the whole town a married man.

must be gratified with its lustre. He sha'n't preach Sir G. The sex is still what it has ever been me out of seeing his wife, though. (Aside.) since la petite morale banished substantial virtues ; Sir G. Well, now, that's reasonable. When you and rather than have given my name to one of your take time to reflect, Doricourt, I always observe bigh-bred, fashionable dames, I'd have crossed the you decide right; and, therefore, I hopeline in a fire-ship, and married a Japanese. Doric. Yet you have married an English beauty;

Enter Gibson.
Fea, and a beauty bom in high life.
Sir G. True ; but she has a simplicity of beart

Gib. Sir, my lady desiresand manners, that would have become the fair

Sir G. I am particularly engaged. Hebrew damsels toasted by the patriarchs.

Doric. Oh, lord! that shall be no excuse in the Doric. Ha, ha! Why, thou art a downright world. Leaping from the sofa.) Lead the way,

John. I'll attend matrimonial Quixote. My life on't, she becomes

lady. your

(Exit, following Gibson, as mere a town lady in six months, as though she had been bred to the trade.

Sir G. What devil possessed me to talk about her! Sir G. Common-common- Contemptuously.)

Here, Doricourt! (Running after him.) Doricourt! No, sir; Lady Frances despises high life so much from the ideas I have given her, that she'll live in Enter Mrs. Racket and Miss Ogle, followed by

a Servant. it like a salamander in fire.

Doric. I'll send thee off to St. Evreux this night, Mrs. R. Acquaint your lady that Mrs. Racket drawn at full length, and coloured after nature. and Miss Ogle are here.

[Erit Servant. Sir G. Tell him, then, to add to the ridicule, that Miss 0. I shall hardly know Lady Frances, 'tis Touchwood glories in the name of husband; that so long since I was in Shropshire. be has found in one Englishwoman more beauty Mrs. R. And I'll be sworn you never saw her


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ont of Shropshire. Her father kept her looked ap Lady F. These are rather new doctrines to me:
with bis caterpillars and shells; and loved her be- but, my dear Mrs. Rackett, you and Miss Ogle
yond anything but a blue butterfly and a petrified must judge of these things better than I can.

you observe, I am but young, and may have caught
Miss 0. Ha, ha, ha! Well, 'twas a cheap way absurd opinions. Here is Sir George!
of breeding her. You know he was very poor,
thougb a Jord; and very high spirited, though a Re-enter SIR GEORGE Touchwood.
virtuoso. In town, her pantheons, operas, and robes
de cour, would have swallowed his sea-weeds, Sir G. 'Sdeath! another room fall! (Aside.)
moths, and monsters, in six weeks. Sir George, I Lady F. My love, Mrs. Rackett, and Miss Ogle.
find, thinks his wife a most extraordinary creature: Mrs. R. 'Give you joy, Sir George. We came
le bas taught her to despise everything like fashion- to rob you of Lady Frances for a few hours.
able life, and boasts that example will bave no effect Sir G. A few hours !
on her.

Lady F. Oh! yes, I am going to an exhibition, Mrs. R. There's a great degree of impertinence and an auction, and the Park, and Kensington, and in all that. I'll try to make her a fine lady, to humble a thousand places ! It is quite ridiculous, I find, him.

for married people to be always together. We Miss 0. That's just the thing I wish.

shall be laughed at. Enter LADY FRANCES Touchwood.

Sir G. I am astonished! Mrs. Racket, what

does the dear creature mean? Lady F. I beg ten thousand pardons, my dear Mrs. R. Mean, Sir George? what she says, I Mrs. Racket. Miss Ogle, I rejoice to see you: imagine. I should have come to you sooner, but I was de- Miss 0. Why, you know, sir, as Lady Franoes tained in conversation by Mr. Doricourt.

had the misfortune to be bred entirely in the Mrs. R. Pray make no apology; I am quite country, she cannot be supposed to be versed in happy that we have your ladyship in town at last. fashionable life. What stay do you make?

Sir G. No; beaven forbid she should! If she Lady F. A short one. Sir George talks with re- bad, madam, she would never have been my wife. gret of the scenes we have left; and, as the cere- Mrs. R. Are you serious ? mony of presentation is over, will, I believe, soon Sir G. Perfectly so : I should never had the couTetoro.

rage to hare married a well-bred, fine lady. Miss 0. Sure he can't be so cruel. Does your Miss 0. Pray, sir, wbat do you take a fine lady ladyship wish to return so soon?

to be, that you express such fear of her? (SneerLady F. I bave not the habit of consulting my ingly.) own wishes; but I think, if they decide, we shall Sir G. A being easily described, madam, as she not return immediately. I have yet hardly formed is seen everywhere but in her own house. She an idea of London.

sleeps at home, but she lives all over the town. In Mrs. R. I shall quarrel with your lord and her inind, every sentiment gives place to the last master, if he dare to think of depriving us of you of conquest, and the vanity of being particular. so soon. How do you dispose of yourself to-day? The feelings of wife and mother are lost in the

Lady F. Sir George is going with me this morn- whirl of dissipation. If she continues virtuous, ing to the mercer's, to choose a silk; and then- 'tis by chance; and, if she preserves her husband

Mrs. R. Choose a silk for you! Ha, ha, ha! Sir from ruin, 'uis by her dexterity at the card-table. George chooses your laces, too, I hope ; your Such a woman I take to be a perfect, fine lady. gloves, and your pincushions !

Mrs. R. And you I take to be a slanderous cynic Lady F. Madam!

of two-and-thirty, Twenty years hence, one might Mrs. R. I am glad to seo you blush, my dear have forgiven such a libel. Now, sir, hear my deLads Frances. These are strange, homespan ways; finition of a fine lady: she is a creature for whom if you do these things, pray keep them secret. nature has done much, and education more; she Lord bless us! If the town should know your hus- has taste, elegance, spirit, understanding. In ber band chooses your gowns!

manner she is free, in ber morals nice. Her behaMiss 0. You are very young, my lady, and have viour is ondistinguishingly polite to her husband, been brought up in solitude. The maxims you and all mankind : her sentiments are for their hours learnt among wood-nymphs, in Shropshire, won't of retirement. In a word, a fine lady is the life of pass current here, I assure you.

conversation, the spirit of society, the joy of the Mrs. R. Wly, my dear creature, you look quite public. Pleasure follows, wherever she appears ; frightened. Come, you shall go with us to an ex- and the kindest wishes attend her slumbers. Make hibition and an auction; afterwards, we'll take a haste, then, my dear Lady Frances ; commence fine turn in the Park, and then drive to Kensington; lady, and force your husband to acknowledge the 80 we shall be at home by four to dress; and, in justness of my picture. the evening, I'll attend you to Lady Brilliant's Lady F. I am sure 'tis a delightful one. How masquerade.

can you (looks at him) dislike it, Sir George? You Lady F. I shall be very happy to be of your painted fashionable life in colours so disgusting, party, if Sir George bas no engagements.

that I thought I hated it; but, on a nearer view, it Mrs. R. What do you stand so low in your own seems charming. I have hitherto lived in obscuopinion, that you dare not trust yourself without rity; 'tis time that I should be a woman of the Sir George? If you choose to play Darby and Joan, world. I long to begin; my heart pants with exmy dear, you should have staid in the country; 'tis pectation and delight. an exhibition not calculated for London, I assare Mrs. R. Come, then, let us begin directly. I am you.

impatient to introduce you to that society, which Miss 0. What! I suppose, my lady, you and Sir you were born to ornament and charm. George will be seen pacing it comfortably round the Lady F. Adieu, my love! We shall meet again canal, arm in arm, and then go lovingly into the at dinner. (Going.) same carriage ; dine téle-à-tête, spend the evening Sir G. Sare, I am in a dream. Fanny ! at piquet, and so go soberly to bed at eleven? Lady F. (Returning. ). Sir George ! Such a snug plan may do for an attorney and his Sir G. Will you go without me? wife; but, for Lady Frances Touchwood, 'tis as Mrs. R. Will you go without me! Ha, ha, ba! unsuitable as linsey-wolsey, or a black bonnet at what a pathetic address! Why, sure you would the opera !

not always be seen side by side, like two beans

opon a stalk. Are you afrald to trust Lady Frances, and said, “a cucumber would have been a better with me, sir?

simile.' Sir G. Heaven and earth! with whom can a Sir G. But there are husbands, sir, who would man trust his wife, in the present state of society? | rather bave corrected than amended your compaFormerly, there were distinctions of character rison; I, for instance, should consider a man's amongst ge; every class of females bad its parti- complimenting my wife as an impertinence. calar description : grandmothers were pious, aunts Flut. Why, wbat harm can there be in complidisoreet, old maids censorious: but now, aunts, ments ? sure, they are not infectious; and, if they grandmothers, girls, and maiden gentlewomen, are were, you, Sir George, of all people breathing, all the same creature ; á wrinkle, more or less, is have reason to be satisfied about your lady's atthe sole difference between ye.

tachment; every body talks of it: that little bird Mrs. R. That maiden gentlewomen have lost there, that she killed out of jealousy, the most extheir censoriousness is surely not in your catalogue traordinary instance of affection that ever was of grievances.

given. Si G. Indeed it is; and ranked amongst the Lady F. I kill a bird through jealousy! Heavens! most serious grievances. Things went well, ma- Mr. Flutter, how can you impute such a cruelty to dam, wben the tongues of three or four old virgins me? kept all the wives and daughters of a parish in awe. Sir G. I could have forgiven you, if you had. They were the dragons that gaarded the Hesperian Flut. Oh! what a blandering fool! No, no, now fruit; and I wonder they have not been obliged by I remember; 'twas your bird, Lady Frances--that's act of parliament to resume their function. it; your bullfinch, which Sir George, in one of the

Mrs. R. Ha, ha, ha! and pensioned, I suppose, refinements of his passion, sent into the wide world for making strict inquiries into the lives and con- to seek its fortune. He took it for a knight in disFersations of their neighbours.

guise. Sir G. With all my heart; and empowered to Lady F. Is it possible? Oh! Sir George, could I oblige every woman to couforin her conduct to her have imagined it was you who deprived me of a real situation. Yoa, for instance, are a widow; creature I was so fond of ? your air should be sedate, your dress grave, your

Sir G. Mr. Flutter, you are one of those busy, deportment matronly; and, in all things, an example idle, meddling people, who, from mere vacuity of to the young women growing up about you ; instead mind, are the most dangerous inmates in a family. of whích, you are drest for conquest, think of no- You have neither feelings nor opinions of your thing but ensnaring hearts; are a coquette, a wit, own; but, like a glass in a tavern, bear about those and a fine lady.

of every blockhead who gives you his; and, beMrs. R. Bear witness to what he says! A co- cause you mean no harm, think yourselves excused; quette, a wit, and a fine lady! Who would have ex- though broken friendships, discords, and murders, pected an ealogy from such an ill-natured mortal ? are the consequences of your indiscretions. Valoor to a soldier, wisdom to a judge, or glory to Flut. (Taking out his tablets.) Vacuity of mind ! a prince, is not more than such a character to a What was next? I'll write down this sermon; 'tis

the first I have beard since my grandmother's fuMiss 0, Sir George, I see, languishes for the neral. charming society of a centary and a half ago; when Miss 0. Come, Lady Frances, you see what a a grave 'squire, and a still graver dame, surrounded cruel creatore your loving husband can be : so let by a sober family, formed a stiff group, in a

us leave him. mouldy, old house, in the corner of a park.

Sir G. Madam, Lady Frances shall not go. Mrs.R. Delightful serenity! Undisturbed by any Lady F. Shall not, Sir George! This is the noise but the cawing of rooks, and the quarterly first time such an expression-Weeping.) rambling of an old family coach on a state visit; Sir G. My love! my life! with the happy intervention of a friendly call from Lady F. Don't imagine I'll be treated like a the parish apothecary, or the curate's wife. child! denied what I wish, and then pacified with

Si G. And what is the society of which you sweet words. boast ? a mere chaos, in which all distinction of Miss 0. (Apart.) The bullfinch! that's an excelrank is lost in a ridiculous affectation of ease. In lent subject; never let it down. the same select party, you will often find the wife of Lady F. I see plainly you would deprive me of a bishop and a sharper, of an earl and a fiddler. In every pleasure, as well as of my sweet bird-out short

, 'tis one universal masquerade, all disguised of pure love! Barbarous man! is the same habits and manners.

Sir G. 'Tis well, madam; your resentment of Enter GIBSON.

that circumstance proves to me, what I did not beGib. Mr. Flatter.

fore suspect, that you are deficient both in tender

[Exit. ness and understanding. Treinble to think the hour Sir G. Here comes an illustration. Now I defy approaches, in which you would give worlds for you to tell, from his appearance, whether Flutter is such a proof of my love. Go, madam; give youra privy-counsellor or a mercer, a lawyer or a gro self to the public: abandon your heart to dissipacer's 'prentice.

tion, and see if, in the scenes of gaiety and rolly Enter FLUTTER.

that await you, you can find a recompense for the Flut. Oh! just which you please, Sir George; so lost affection of a doating husband. [Exit. you don't make me a lord mayor. Ah, Mrs. Flut. Lord! what a fine thing it is to have the Racket! Lady Prances, your most obedient! you gift of speech! I suppose Sir George practises at look-now, hang me, if that's not provoking! had Coach-makers’-ball, or the Black-horse in Bondyour gown been of another colour, I should have street. said the prettiest thing you ever heard in your life. Lady F. He is really angry; I cannot go. Miss 0. Pray give it us.

Mrs. R. Not go! foolish creature! you are arFlut. I was yesterday at Mrs. Bloomer's. She rived at the moment which, sometime or other, was was dreased all in green; no other colour to be sure to bappen, and every thing depends on the use seen but that of her face and boson. “So,” says you make of it. I, “my dear Mrs. Bloomer, you look like a car- Miss 0. Come, Lady Frances, don't hesitate; nation just bursting from its pod.” Wasn't that the minutes are precious. pretty?

Lady F. I could find in my heart-and yet I Sir G. And what said her husband ?

won't give up, neither. If I should in this instance, Peet. Her husband! why, her husband laughed, he'll expect it for ever. [Exit with Mrs. Racket.


Miss 0. Now you act like a woman of spirit ! Let. My lover! confess, now, that my absence at

[Exit. dinner was a severe mortification to him. Flut. A fair tug, by Jupiter! between duty and Mrs. R. I can't absolutely swear it spoiled his pleasure! Pleasure beats, and off we go. lö tri- appetite; he ate as if he was bungry, and drank umphe!

[Exit. | his wine as though he liked it.

Let. What was the apology? Scene II.-An Auction-room : busts, pictures, &c. Mrs. R. That you were ill ; but I gave him a

SILVERTONGUE discovered with Company,Puffers, bint, that your extreme bashfulness could not sup&c.

port his eye. Enter LADY FRANCES TOUCHWOOD, MRS.

Let. If I comprehend him, awkwardness and RACKET, and Miss OGLE.

bashfulness are the last faults he can pardon in a

woman ; so expect to see me transformed into the Sil. Yes, sir, this is to be the first lot: the model veriest mawkin. of a city, in wax.

Mrs. R. You persevere, then? 2 Gent. The model of a city! What city ?

Let. Certainly. I know the design is a rash one, Sil. That I have not been able to discover; bat and the event important; it either makes Doricourt call it Rome, Pekin, or London, 'tis still a city; mine, by all the tenderest ties of passion, or deprives you'll find in it the same virtues, and the same me of him for ever; and never to be his wife will vices, whatever the pame.

aflict me less than to be bis wife, and not be beLady F. I wish Sir George was here. This man loved. follows me about, and stares at me in such a way, Mrs. R. So you won't trust to the good old maxthat I am quite uneasy. (Lady Frances and Missim,-Marry first, and love will follow. Ogle come forward, followed by Courtall.)

Let. As readily as I will venture my last guinea, Miss 0. He has travelled, and is heir to an im- that good fortune might follow. The woman that mense estate ; so he is impertinent by patent. has not touched the heart of a man, before he leads

Court. You are very cruel, ladies. Miss Ogle, her to the altar, has scarcely a chance to charm it, you will not let me speak to you. As to this little, when possession and security turn their powerful scornful beauty, she has frowned me dead fifty arms against her. Bat, bere he comes; I'll disaptimes.

pear for a moment. Don't spare me. [Exit. Lady F. Sir, I am a married woman. (Confused.)

Court. A married woman! a good hint. (Aside.) Enter DORICOURT, not seeing Mrs. Racket. 'Twould be a shame if such a charming woman was Doric. So! (Looking at a picture.) This is my not married. But I see you are a Daphne, just mistress, I presume. Ma foi! the painter bas hit come from your sheep and your meadows, your her off. The downcast eye, the blushing cheek; crook and your waterfalls. Pray, now, who is the timid --- apprehensive - båshfal : a tear, and a bappy Damon, to whom you bave vowed eternal prayer-book, would have made her La Bella Magtruth and constancy?

dalena. Miss 0. 'Tis Lady Frances Touchwood, Mr. Give me a woman, in whose touching mien Courtall, to whom you are speaking.

A mind, a soul, a polished art, is seen; Court. Lady Frances! By heaven! that's Sa- Whose motion speaks, whose poignant air can ville's old flame. (Aside.) beg your ladyship's

move; pardon. I ought to have believed, that such beauty Such are the darts to wound with endless love. could belong only to your name; a name I have Mrs. R. Is that an impromptu ? long been enamoured of, because I knew it to be Doric. (Starting.) Nadam! Finely caught! that of the finest woman in the world. (Mrs. (Aside.) Not absolutely: it struck me during the Racket comes forward.)

dessert, as a motto for your picture. Lady F. (Apart.) My dear Mrs. Racket, I am Mrs. R. Gallantly turned : I perceive, however, so frightened! Here's a man making love to me, Miss Hardy's charms have made no violent impresthough he knows I am married.

sion on you. And who can wonder ? the poor girl's Mrs. 0. Oh! the sooner for that, my dear; don't defects are so obvious. mind him. Was you at the Cassino last night, Mr. Doric. Defects! Courtall ?

Mrs. R. Merely those of education : her father's Court. I looked in—'Twas impossible to stay-indulgence ruined her. Mauvaise honte, conceit, Nobody there but antiques. You'll be at Lady and ignorance, all unite in the lady you are to Brilliant's to-night, doubtless ?

marry: Mrs.R. Yes; I go with Lady Frances.

Doric. Marry! I marry such a woman! Your Lady P. Bless me! I did not know this gentle picture, I hope, is overcharged. I marry mauvaise tleman was acquainted with Mrs. Racket. I be honte, pertness, and ignorance ! haved so rude to him! (To Miss Ogle.)

Mrs. R. Thank your stars, that ugliness and Mrs. R. Come, ma'am; (looking at'her watch) ill-temper are not added to the list. You must 'tis past one. I protest, if we don't fly to Kensing- think her handsome. ton, we sha'n't find a soul there.

Doric. Half her personal beauty would content Lady F. Won't this gentleman go with us? me; bat could the Medicean Venus be animated for

Court. (Looking surprised.) To be sure : you me, and endowed with a vulgar soul, I should bemake me happy, madam, beyond description. come the statue, and my heart transformed to Mrs. R. Oh! never mind him; he'll follow. marble.

[then! [Exeunt Lady Frances, Mrs. Racket, and Mrs. R. Bless us! we are in a hopeful way, Miss Ogle.

Doric. There must be some envy in this. I see Court. Lady Touchwood, with a vengeance! But she is a coquette. Aside.) Ha, ha, ha! and you 'tis always so; your reserved ladies are like ice, imagine I am persuaded of the truth of your chaegad! no sooner begin to soften than they melt. racter. Ha, ha, ha! Miss Hardy, I have been as

[Following. sured, madam, is elegant and accomplished; but ACT III.

one must allow for a lady's painting.

Mrs. R. I'll be even with bim for that. (Aside.) SCENE I.-Mr. Hardy's.

Ha, ha, ha! and so you have found me out! Well, Í Enter MRS, RACKET and LETITIA.

protest, I meant no harm; 'twas only to increase

the éclat of her appearance, that I threw a veil over Mrs. R. Come, prepare, prepare; your lover is her charms. Here comes the lady: her elegance coming.

and accomplishments will announce themselves,

be can.


Erler LETITIA, running.

Har. Don't stand baaing there; you'll make Let. La! cousin, do you know that our John-Oh,

me mad in a moment. I tell you, sir, that for all dear beart! I didn't see you, sir. (Hanging down that, she's dev’lish sensible. her head, and dropping behind Mrs. R.)

Doric. Sir, I give all possible credit to your asMrs. R. Fie, Letitia! Mr. Doricourt thinks you

sertions. 1 woman of elegant manners. Stand forward, and watching, how can my sweetheart break his mind,

Let. Laws! papa, do come along. If you stand confirm bis opinion. let. No, no; keep before me. He's my sweet

and tell me how he admires me? heart; and 'tis impudent to look one's sweetheart

Doric. That would be difficult, indeed, madam. in the face, you know.

Hur. I tell you, Letty, I'll have no more of this. Mrs. R.You'll allow in future for a lady's paint

I see well enough ing, sir. Ha, ha, ba!

Let. Laws! don't snub me before my husband, Deric. I am astonished !

that is to be. You'll teach him to snab me too ; Let. Well, bang it! I'll take heart. Why, he and, I believe, by his looks, he'd like to begin is bat a man, you know,' cousin; and I'll let him

now. So let us go, cousin. You may tell the gensee, I wasn't born in a wood to be scared by an

tleman what a genus I have; how I can cut watchowl. (Half apart; advances, and looks at him papers, and work catgut, make quadrille baskets through her fingers.) He, he, he ! (Goes up to him,

with pins, and take profiles in shade; ay, as well and makes a very stiff, formal courtesy; he bows.

as the lady at No. 62, South Moulton-street, You have been a great traveller, sir, I hear. Í


(Exeunt Har. and Let. wish you'd tell us about the fine sights you saw

Mrs. R. What think you of my painting now? when you went over sea : I have read in a book, lady has caricatured your picture.

Doric. Oh! mere water-colours, madain. The that there are some other countries, where the men and women are all horses. Did you see any of

Mrs. R. And how does she strike you on the them!

whole? Mrs. R. Mr. Doricourt is not prepared, my dear,

Doric. Like a good design, spoiled by the incafor these inquiries; he is reflecting on the import pacity of the artist. Her faults are evidently the ance of the question, and will answer you—when result of her father's weak indulgence. I observed

an expression in her eye, that seemed to satirize as aant Margery, when she's reading Thomas Aqui- and manner becomes nature, bopes of improveLat. When he can! Wby, he's as slow in speech the folly of her lips.

Mrs. R. But at her age, when education is fixed, bas; and stands gaping like mumchance.

Birs. R. Have a little discretion.
Let. Hold your tongue! Sure, I may say what I

Doric. Would be absurd. Besides, I can't tarn please before I am married, if I can't afterwards. schoolmaster! Doricourt's wife must be incapable D'ye think a body does not know how to talk to a

of improvement; but it must be, because she's got sweetheart? He is not the first I have had.

beyond it. Doric. Indeed!

Mrs. R. I am pleased your misfortune sits no

heavier. Let. Oh!lad, he speaks! Why, if you must know, there was the curate at home. When papa was a

Doric. Your pardon, madam. So mercorial was banting, be used to come a snitoring, and make

the hour in which I was born, that misfortunes speeches to me out of books. Nobody'knows what always go plamp to the bottom of my heart, like a a mort of fine things he used to say to me; and call pebble in water, and leave the surface unruflled. Be Venis, and Jabah, and Dinah.

I shall certainly set off for Bath, or the other world, Doric. And pray, fair lady, how did you answer

to-night; but whether I shall use a chaise with four bim?

swift coursers, or go off in a tangent, from the Lel. Why, I used to say, “ Look you, Mr. aperture of a pistol, deserves consideration; so I Cnrate; don't think to come over me with your

make my adieux. (Going.) fim-flams, for a better man than ever trod in

Mrs. R. Oh! but I entreat you, postpone your

your shoes is coming over-sea to marry me.”" Bat, journey till to-morrow; determine on which you ‘ifags, I begin to think I was out. Parson Dob: will, you must be this night at the masquerade. bins was the sprightfuller man of the two.

Doric. Masquerade ! Doric. Surely this cannot be Miss Hardy?

Mrs. R. Why not? If you resolve to visit the Let. Laws! why don't you know me? You saw

other world, you may as well take one night's De to-day ; but I'was daunted before my father, pleasure first in this, Fou know. and the lawyer, and all them; and did not care to

Doric. Faith, that's very true. Ladies are the best speak out; so, may be, you thought I couldn't; philosophers after all! Expect me at the masque

rade. bat I can talk as fast as anybody, when I know

[Exit. folks a little. And now I have shewu my parts, I

Mrs. R. He's a charming fellow; I think Letitia hope you'll like me better.

sha'n't have him. (Going.)

Enter HARDY.
Enter HARDY.

Har. What, is he gone? Har. I foresee this won't do. Mr. Doricourt, Mrs. R. Yes; and I am glad he is. You would may be, you take my daughter for a fool ; but you have ruined us. Now I beg, Mr. Hardy, you are mistaken, she's as sensible a girl as any in won't interfere in this business; it is a little out of England.

your way.

[Exit. Doric. I am convinced she has a very uncommon Har. Hang me if I don't, though! I foresee very understanding, sir. I did not think he had been clearly what will be the end of it, if I leave you to such an ass! (A side.)

yourselves; so I'll e'en follow bim to the masqueLet. My father will undo the whole. (Aside.) rade, and tell him all about it. Let me see; what Laws, papa, how can you think he can take me for shall my dress be? A great mogul? No. A grenaa fool ; when every body knows, I beat the apothe- dier? No, no; that, I foresee, would make a cary at conundrums, last Christmas-time? And laugh. Hang me! if I don't send to my favourite didn't I make a string of names, all in riddles, for little Quick, and borrow bis Jew Isaac's dress. I the Lady's Diary? There was a little river and a know the dog likes a glass of good wine; so I'll great house, that was Newcastle. There was what give him a bottle of my forty-eight, and he shall

lamb says, and three letters, that was ba, and teach me. Ay, that's it; I'll be cunning liule L-e-r, kerbaker. There was

Isaao. If they complain of my want wit, I'l!

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