Faul. Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on such a trifler! 'Sdeath! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to soothe her light heart with catches and glees! What can you say to this, sir?

Capt. A. Why, that I should be glad to hear my mistress had been so merry, sir.

Faul. Nay, nay, nay-I'm not sorry that she has been happy-no, no, I am glad of that-I would not have had her sad or sick-yet surely a sympathetic heart would have shown itself even in the choice of a song-she might have been temperately healthy, and somehow, plaintively gay; but she has been dancing, too, I doubt not.

Acres. What does the gentleman say about dancing? Capt. A. He says the lady we speak of dances as well as she sings.

Acres. Ay, truly does she-there was at our last race ball

Faul. Hell and the devil. There! there I told you so! I told you so! Oh! she thrives in my absence!Dancing! But her whole feelings have been in opposition with mine;-I have been anxious, silent, pensive, sedentary-my days have been hours of care, my nights of watchfulness.-She has been all health! spirit! laugh! song! dance!-Oh! damned, damned, levity!

Capt. A. For heaven's sake, Faulkland, don't expose yourself so!-Suppose she has danced, what then?-does not the ceremony of society often oblige—

Faul. Well, well, I'll contain myself-perhaps, as you say-for form's sake.-What, Mr. Acres, you were praising Miss Melville's manner of dancing a minuet-hey?

Acres. Oh, I dare insure her for that-but what I was going to speak of, was her country dancing. Odds swimmings! she has such an air with her!

Faul. Now, disappointment on her!—defend this, Absolute! why don't you defend this?-Country-dances!

jigs and reels! am I to blame now? A minuet I could have forgiven-I should not have minded that I say I should not have regarded a minuet, but country-dances! Zounds, had she made one in a cotillon-I believe I could have forgiven even that-but to be monkey-led for a night!-to run the gauntlet through a string of amorous palming puppies!—to show paces like a managed filly!—Oh, Jack, there never can be but one man in the world whom a truly modest and delicate woman ought to pair with in a country-dance; and, even then, the rest of the couples should be her great-uncles and aunts!

Capt. A. Ay, to be sure; grandfathers and grandmothers!

Faul. If there be but one vicious mind in the set, it will spread like a contagion-the action of their pulse beats to the lascivious movement of the jig-their quivering, warm-breathed sighs impregnate the very air-the atmosphere becomes electrical to love, and each amorous spark darts through every link of the chain!I must leave you-I own I am somewhat flurried, and that confounded booby has perceived it. [Going. Capt. A. Nay, but stay, Faulkland, and thank Mr. Acres for his good news.

[Exit.

Faul. Damn his news! Capt. A. Ha! ha! ha! poor Faulkland! Five minutes since "nothing on earth could give him a moment's uneasiness!"

Acres. The gentleman wasn't angry at my praising his mistress, was he?

Capt. A. A little jealous, I believe, Bob!

Acres. You don't say so? Ha! ha! jealous of me!that's a good joke!

Capt. A. There's nothing strange in that, Bob! let me tell you, that sprightly grace and insinuating manner of yours, will do some mischief among the girls here.

Acres. Ah! you joke-ha! ha! mischief-ha! ha! but you know I am not my own property! my dear Lydia has forestalled me. She could never abide me in the country, because I used to dress so badly-but, odds frogs and tambours! I sha'n't take matters so herenow ancient madam has no voice in it; I'll make my old clothes know who's master. I shall straightway cashier the hunting-frock, and render my leather breeches incapabie. My hair has been in training some time. [Showing his hair in curl papers.

Capt. A. Indeed!

Acres. Ay-and tho'ff the side curls are a little restive, my hind part takes it very kindly.

Capt. A. Oh, you'll polish, I doubt not.

Acres. Absolutely I propose so-then, if I can find out this Ensign Beverley, odds triggers and flints! I'll make him know the difference o't.

Capt. A. Spoke like a man! But, pray, Bob, I observe you have got an odd kind of a new method of swearing

Acres. Ha ha! you've taken notice of it-'tis genteel, isn't it?—I didn't invent it myself, though; but a commander in our militia, a great scholar, I assure you, says that there is no meaning in the common oaths, and that nothing but their antiquity makes them respectable; because, he says, the ancients would never stick to an oath or two, but would say by Jove! or by Bacchus! or by Mars! or by Venus! or by Pallas! according to the sentiment ;- -so that to swear with propriety, says my little Major, the oath should be an echo to the sense; and this we call the oath referential, or sentimental swearing-ha! ha! ha! 'tis genteel, isn't it?

Capt. A. Very genteel, and very new indeed-and I dare say will supplant all other figures of imprecation. Acres. Ay, ay, the best terms will grow obsoleteDamns have had their day.

Enter FAG.

Fag. Sir, there is a gentleman below desires to see you.-Shall I show him into the parlor?

Capt. A. Ay-you may.

Acres. Well, I must be gone

Capt. A. Stay; who is it, Fag?

Fag. Your father, sir.

Capt. A. You puppy, why didn't you show him up directly?

[Exit Fag.

Acres. You have business with Sir Anthony.-I expect a message from Mrs. Malaprop, at my lodgings. I have sent also to my dear friend, Sir Lucius O"Trigger. -Adieu, Jack! we must meet at night, when you shall give me a dozen bumpers to little Lydia. [Exit.

Capt. A. That I will, with all my heart. Now for a parental lecture-I hope he has heard nothing of the business that has brought me here-I wish the gout had held him fast in Devonshire, with all my soul!

Enter SIR ANTHONY.

Sir, I am delighted to see you here looking so well! ---your sudden arrival at Bath made me apprehensive for your health.

Sir A. Very apprehensive, I dare say, Jack.—What, you are recruiting here, hey?

Capt. A. Yes, sir, I am on duty.

Sir A. Well, Jack, I am glad to see you, though I did not expect it; for I was going to write to you on a little matter of business.-Jack, I have been considering that I grow old and infirm, and shall probably not trouble you long.

Capt. A. Pardon me, sir, I never saw you look more strong and hearty, and I pray fervently that you may continue so.

Sir A. I hope your prayers may be heard, with all my heart. Well, then, Jack, I have been considering that I am so strong and hearty, I may continue to plague you a long time.-Now, Jack, I am sensible that the income of your commission, and what I have hitherto allowed you, is but a small pittance for a lad of your spirit.

Capt. A. Sir, you are very good.

Sir A. And it is my wish, while yet I live, to have my boy make some figure in the world. I have resolved, therefore, to fix you at once in a noble independence.

Capt. A. Sir, your kindness overpowers me. Such generosity makes the gratitude of reason more lively than the sensation even of filial affection.

Sir A. I am glad you are so sensible of my attentionand you shall be master of a large estate in a few weeks.

Capt. A. Let my future life, sir, speak my gratitude; I cannot express the sense I have of your munificence.Yet, sir, I presume you would not wish me to quit the army?

Sir A. Oh! that shall be as your wife chooses.

Capt. A. My wife, sir!

Sir A. Ay, ay, settle that between you-settle that between you.

Capt. A. A wife, sir, did you say?

Sir A. Ay, a wife-why, did not I mention her before? Capt. A. Not a word of her, sir.

Sir A. Odd so! I mustn't forget her, though—Yes, Jack, the independence I was talking of, is by a marriage the fortune is saddled with a wife-but I suppose that makes no difference.

Capt. A. Sir! sir! you amaze me!

Sir A. Why, what the devil's the matter with the fool? Just now you were all gratitude and duty.

Capt. A. I was, sir,-you talked to me of independence and a fortune, but not a word of a wife.