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Mrs. CROAKER.

You fee now, my dear. What an extenfive department! Well, friend, let your mafter know, that we are extremely honoured by this honour. Was there any thing ever in a higher ftyle of breeding! All meffages among the great are now done by exprefs.

CROAKER.

To be fure, no man does little things with more folemnity, or claims more refpect than he. But he's in the right on't. In our bad world, refpect is given, where refpect is claim'd.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Never mind the world, my dear; you were never in a pleasanter place in your life. Let us now think of receiving him with proper refpe&t (a loud rapping at the door) and there he is by the thundering

rap.

CROAKER.

Ay, verily, there he is; as close upon the heels of his own exprefs, as an indorsement upon the back of a bill. Well, I'll leave you to receive him, whilft I go to chide my little Olivia for intending to steal a marriage without mine, or her aunt's confent. I must seem to be angry, or fhe too may begin to defpife my authority.

D 3

[Exit.

Enter

Enter LOFTY, fpeaking to his Servant.

LOFTY.

"And if the Venetian ambaffador, or that teazing creature the marquis, fhould call,, I'm not at home. Dam'me, I'll be pack-horse to none of them." My dear madam, I have juft fnatched a moment-" And if the expreffes to his grace be ready, let them be fent off; they're of importance." Madam, I ask a thoufand pardons.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Sir, this honour

LOFTY.

"And Dubardieu! if the perfon calls about the commiffion, let him know that it is made out. As for lord Cumbercourt's ftale request, it can keep cold you understand me." Madam, I ask ten thoufand pardons.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Sir, this honour▬▬▬

LOFTY.

"And, Dubardieu! if the man comes from the Cornish borough, you must do him; you must do him, I fay." Madam, I ask ten thousand pardons. "And if the Ruffian-ambaffador calls: but he will fcarce call to-day, I believe." And now, madam, I have just got time to exprefs my happiness in having the honour of being permitted to profefs myself your most obedient humble fervant.

Mrs.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Sir, the happiness and honour are all mine; and yet, I'm only robbing the public while I detain

you.

LOFTY.

Sink the public, madam, when the fair are to be attended. Ah, could all my hours be fo charmingly devoted! Sincerely, don't you pity us poor creatures in affairs? Thus it is eternally; folicited for places here, teized for penfions there, and courted every where. I know you pity me. Yes, I fee you

do.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Excufe me, Sir. "Toils of empires pleasures are,"

as Waller fays.

LOFTY.

Waller, Waller; is he of the house?

Mrs. CROAKER.

The modern poet of that name, Sir.

LOFTY.

Oh, a modern! We men of business despise the moderns; and as for the ancients, we have no time to read them. Poetry is a pretty thing enough for our wives and daughters; but not for us. Why now, here I ftand that know nothing of books. I fay, madam, I know nothing of books; and yet, I believe, upon a land carriage fifhery, a stamp act, or a jag-hire, I can talk my two hours without feeling the want of them.

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Mrs. CROAKER.

The world is no ftranger to Mr. Lofty's eminence in every capacity.

LOFTY.

I vow to gad, madam, you make me blush. I'm nothing, nothing, nothing in the world; a mere obfcure gentleman. To be fure, indeed, one or two of the prefent minifters are pleased to reprefent me as a formidable man. I know they are pleased to be-spatter me at all their little dirty levees. Yet, upon my foul, I wonder what they fee in me to treat me fo! Measures, not men, have always been my mark; and I vow, by all that's honourable, my refentment has never done the men, as mere men, any manner of harm-that is as mere men. Mrs. CROAKER.

What importance, and yet what modesty !

LOFTY.

Oh, if you talk of modesty, madam! there I own, I'm acceffible to praife: modefty is my foible: it was fo, the duke of Brentford used to fay of me. "I love Jack Lofty, he used to fay :" no man has a finer knowledge of things; quite a man of information; and when he fpeaks upon his legs, by the Lord he's prodigious, he fcouts them; and yet all men have their faults; too much modefty is his, fays his grace.

Mrs.

Mrs. CROAKER.

And yet, I dare fay, you don't want affurance when you come to folicit for your friends.

LOFTY.

O, there indeed I'm in bronze. Apropos! I have just been mentioning Miss Richland's cafe to a certain perfonage; we must name no names. When I afk, I'm not to be put off, madam. No, no, I take my friend by the button. A fine girl, Sir; great justice in her cafe. A friend of mine. Borough intereft. Business must be done, Mr. Secretary. I May, Mr. Secretary, her business must be done, Sir. That's my way, madam.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Blefs me! you faid all this to the fecretary of state, did you?

LOFTY.

I did not say the secretary, did I? Well, curfe it, fince you have found me out I will not deny it. It was to the secretary.

Mrs. CROAKER.

This was going to the fountain head at once, not applying to the understrappers, as Mr. Honeywood would have had us.

LOFTY.

Honeywood! he! he! He was, indeed, a fine folicitor. I fuppofe you have heard what has juft happened to him?

Mrs.

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