fome-that is, not very handfome-you are beautiful-don't deserve you Fanny. No. Nor any one elfe Ellen. You are a base, vile deceiver Fanny. Yes, a mean, paltry, meddling coxcomb. Ellen. Running from houfe to house to steal poor girl's hearts. Peter. I fteal poor girl's hearts?— Ellen. And then throw 'em away, as if they were worth nothing. Peter. This comes of my gentility-Nature denied me face; but gave me figure-that always fetches 'em-Now for the village-Strange report abroad-must get particulars-any thing new delights me. Mum's the word-I fay nothingknow every thing all hate me-can't do without me, tho'.-Old Whitethorn's a rum one-fo am I -Cut with his daughter Ellen-She won't doFanny will-Any thing new-then go to the Parfon -he'll tell the Clerk-he'll tell Chop the Butcher -he'll tell Dough the Baker-he'll tell his witethe's got a tongue-fhe'll tell all the Town.-Rare fun-I'm off-Any Thing New! [Exit. Fanny. Stupid impertinent blockhead-I declares, I woudn't wed fuch a puppy-if he was the only man on earth-Would you, Ellen? Ellen. No! If he was the only man.-Yes, I believe I should, Fanny-but I could tear his eyes out-for all that. - Fanny. I'll teach you how to manage these men, Ellen. When they look angry, you laugh at 'emWhen they look pleased, you look angry,-First fcold 'em-then coax 'em-and spite of their boafted independence, in a little time, the filly creatures will be as tractable, and crouch at your feet like lap-dogs. Cheer up, Ellen, he'll be courting you again, when he has Nothing New, as he calls it. Then have a little of my fpirit-Say to him— Mum's the word, and I'm off. [Ext. Ellen. It's very hard, tho', after all his fine fpeeches-but the girls are just as bad. That Fanny Tranfit, now, has ferved poor brother Oliver ten times worse than Mr. Peter has me; but I fhall get a husband fome time or other, I fuppofe-'tis a long lane that has no turning. SONG.-ELLEN WHITE THORN. John was wealthy, and poor was Jane; Fal! lal! la ! He swore he lov'd-she lov'd again Fal! lal! la! But when she of a wedding spoke, John laugh'd and said, Love's but a joke; It chanc'd John lost his wealth one day, And Jane grew rich, as people say, Fal! lal! la! Then to her feet the lover flew, No, no, she cry'd, you laugh'd, untrue, 'Tis now my turn to laugh at you; Fal! lal! la! SCENE II.-An Apartment at Mrs. ANTIDOTE'S Enter FANNY TRANSIT followed by OLIVER. Fanny. I tell you, it's no ufe dangling after me, Oliver. Oliv. Don't fay that don't fay that, Fanny. You know how dearly I love you B Fanny. No! I don't; the only thing I ever asked of you, you refufed-and now I refufe you Oliv. That you know was impoffible. I could'nt leave my poor father to be a foldier. Fanny. I know that you leave your poor father to run after me. If you were a foldier you would be getting fomething, as it is, you don't even earn fix-pence a-day. Oliv. If you were but mine, Fanny, I'd work for you day and night. Fanny. 'Twas but yesterday, I was told, you neglected your poor father fo long, he is almoft ruined, and abuses me as the innocent cause of it. Oliv. It's falfe, Fanny-I never neglected my poor old father. Oh! yes! yes! I have; but if I thought he took it fo to heart. Who told you this? Fanny. Why-Mr. Peter Babble. Fanny. There-Oh! (hocking you have learned to fwear too. Do you think I'd wed a man that fwears-zounds Ma'am, do this—and, damn it, do that no, no! Oliv. Fanny! Fanny! You irritate me paft endurance, and then pretend to wonder at the anxiety you have caused. Babble's a fcoundrel-but rot me if I don't fpoil his fmirking chops before long. Fanny. There again-jealous and quarrelfome. Oh! this will never do for Matrimony. Oliv. I can bear it no longer! I'll leave her directly, I'm determined. Good bye, Fanny--good bye (going.) Fanny. You won't leave me in anger, Oliver? Oliv. No! no- not in anger, Fanny (returning.) Zounds! this is too bad-no-I'll never think of her again-never speak to her again— Fanny. Farewell, Oliver. Oliv. Farewell, Fanny, dear Fanny. Oh! damn it-she knows her power, and triumphs in her bar barity! DUET.-OLIVER and FANNY. Oliv. Pray, Ma'am, do not think I'm worried or vext, No longer your slave-I defy you Fun. Very fine-but I'm sure you'll not stick to your text When'e'er little Fanny comes nigh you Oliv. Yourself you deceive Fan. No, I cannot believe That Oliver e'er would forsake me. Oliv. Yes, Madam, you'll find, that I've alter'd my mind, No longer a fool you shall make me. "Fan. You'll repent all you say, Sir, the moment we part, "Tho' now in a passion you're storming, "Olio. No longer a flirt shall embezzle the heart, 66 Another gay lass will be warming. "Fan. Silly man—'tis in vain "Oliv. Why she's laughing again, "Was ever a girl so provoking "Fan. Yes-rave as you will, bye and bye you'll be still, "Beg pardon, and say you were joking. Oliv. So pleasing, so teasing-I soon shall go mad- Fan. Now what makes its own pretty dear look so sad- I thought it was gone Olio. I'm resolved-it is done, None like thee e'er will be so false-hearted, To my fate I'm resign'd, we are both of a mind, And now then for ever we're parted— Both. To my fate I'm resigned, &c. [Exeunt severally. SCENE III.-Inside of WHITE THORN's Cottage. Enter WHITETHORN followed by PETER. White. Pfha! nonfenfe-don't talk to me Peter. Always glad to oblige-but muft talkfomething's the matter-muft know the particularsin fhort, your daughter Ellen would have made me too happy. White. She would Peter. I imes are hard-starving in a garret very unpleasant-little family-large bills-no moneycan't live upon love-damn'd bad dietWhite. Love indeed! Pfha! Folly! Peter. Cogent reasons 'gainst matrimony-Mifs Tranlit-pretty-and your fon Oliver White. Oliver!-have you heard of him-do you know where he is? Peler No!-don't you?-Blefs my foul!-Here's fomething new with a vengeance-he is very fond of her-no ufe tho'-Hav'nt change for fixpence between 'em. White. More's the pity-why doesn't he stick to work? why doefn't he help his old father? befides-fhe's a flirt-a jilt-a coquette ! Peter. Hot as muftard feed-muft cool him'twill break his heart, if White. Hafn't he almoft broke mine-that tall ferjeant with his fcarlet jacket has turn'd the heads of all the girls in the village Peter. "T'won't do-can't get Any Thing New here-must lose no time-call at Fanny Tranfit'sshe may have heard fomething-make up to herTwo Strings to my Bow-beautiful girl-juft fuit me-tell her all the news Good bye, Whitethorngreat hurry-and—I'm off— [Exit. White. Where can Oliver ftay? I'm fure I faid |