Sir Anth. Let her foreclose, Jack; let her foreclose; they are not worth redeeming; besides, you have the angel's vows in exchange, I suppose; so there can be no loss there.

Abs. You must excuse me, sir, if I tell you, once for all, that in this point I cannot obey you.

Sir Anth. Hark'ee, Jack ;—I have heard you for some time with patience I have been cool-quite cool; but take careyou know I am compliance itself-when I am not thwarted ;— no one more easily led-when I have my own way;-but don't put me in a frenzy.

Abs. Sir, I must repeat it—in this I cannot obey you.

Sir Anth. Now damn me if ever I call you Jack again while I live!

Abs. Nay, sir, but hear me.

Sir Anth. Sir, I won't hear a word-not a word! not one word so give me your promise by a nod-and I'll tell you what, Jack I mean, you dog-if you don't, by—

Abs. What, sir, promise to link myself to some mass of ugliness! to

Sir Anth. Zounds! sirrah! the lady shall be as ugly as I choose: she shall have a hump on each shoulder; she shall be as crooked as the crescent; her one eye shall roll like the bull's in Cox's Museum; she shall have a skin like a mummy, and the beard of a Jew-she shall be all this, sirrah!—yet I will make you ogle her all day, and sit up all night to write sonnets on her beauty.

Abs. This is reason and moderation indeed!

Sir Anth. None of your sneering, puppy! no grinning, jackanapes!

in

Abs. Indeed, sir, I never was in a worse humour for mirth my life.

Sir Anth. 'Tis false, sir, I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you'll grin when I am gone, sirrah!

Abs. Sir, I hope I know my duty better.

Sir Anth. None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please! It won't do with me, I promise you.

Abs. Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life.

Sir Anth. 'Tis a confounded lie!-I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog! but it won't do.

Abs. Nay, sir, upon my word

Sir Anth. So you will fly out! can't you be cool like me? What the devil good can passion do?-Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate !—There,

you sneer again! don't provoke me!-but you rely upon the mildness of my temper-you do, you dog! you play upon the meekness of my disposition !-Yet take care-the patience of a saint may be overcome at last!-but mark! I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condition, to do everything on earth that I choose, whyconfound you! I may in time forgive you.-If not, zounds! don't enter the same hemisphere with me! don't dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me; but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission; I'll lodge a five-and-threepence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest.-I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you, I'll unget you! and damn me! if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit.

Abs. Mild, gentle, considerate father-I kiss your hands! -What a tender method of giving his opinion in these matters Sir Anthony has! I dare not trust him with the truth.-I wonder what old wealthy hag it is that he wants to bestow on me!-Yet he married himself for love! and was in his youth a bold intriguer, and a gay companion!

Re-enter FAG.

Fag. Assuredly, sir, your father is wrath to a degree; he comes down stairs eight or ten steps at a time-muttering, growling, and thumping the banisters all the way: I and the cook's dog stand bowing at the door-rap! he gives me a stroke on the head with his cane; bids me carry that to my master; then kicking the poor turnspit into the area, damns us all, for a puppy triumvirate !-Upon my credit, sir, were I in your place, and found my father such very bad company, I should certainly drop his acquaintance.

Abs. Cease your impertinence, sir, at present.-Did you come in for nothing more ?-Stand out of the way!

[Pushes him aside and exit.

Fag. So! Sir Anthony trims my master: he is afraid to reply to his father-then vents his spleen on poor Fag!When one is vexed by one person, to revenge one's self on another, who happens to come in the way, is the vilest injustice! Ah! it shows the worst temper―the basest

Enter Boy.

Boy, Mr. Fag! Mr. Fag! your master calls you.

Fag. Well, you little dirty puppy, you need not bawl so!The meanest disposition! the

Boy, Quick, quick, Mr. Fag!

8-2

Fag. Quick quick! you impudent jackanapes! am I to be commanded by you too? you little, impertinent, insolent, kitchen-bred[Exit kicking and beating him.

SCENE II.-The North Parade.

Enter LUCY.

Lucy. So I shall have another rival to add to my mistress's fist-Captain Absolute. However, I shall not enter his name till my purse has received notice in form. Poor Acres is dismissed -Well, I have done him a last friendly office, in letting him know that Beverley was here before him.-Sir Lucius is generally more punctual, when he expects to hear from his dear Dalia, as he calls her: I wonder he's not here!

I have a little scruple of conscience from this deceit ; though I should not be paid so well, if my hero knew that Delia was near fifty, and her own mistress.

Enter SIR LUCIUS O'TRIGGER.

Sir Luc. Ha! my little ambassadress-upon my conscience, I have been looking for you; I have been on the South Parade this half hour.

Lucy. [Speaking simply.] O gemini! and I have been waiting for your worship here on the North.

Sir Luc. Faith!-may be that was the reason we did not meet; and it is very comical too, how you could go out and I not see you-for I was only taking a nap at the Parade Coffeehouse, and I chose the window on purpose that I might not miss you.

Lucy. My stars! Now I'd wager a sixpence I went by while you were asleep.

Sir Luc. Sure enough it must have been so—and I never dreamt it was so late, till I waked. Well, but my little girl, have you got nothing for me?

Lucy. Yes, but I have-I've got a letter for you in my pocket.

Sir Luc. O faith! I guessed you weren't come empty-handed -Well-let me see what the dear creature says.

Lucy. There, Sir Lucius. [Gives him a letter. Sir Luc. [Reads.] Sir-there is often a sudden incentive impulse in love, that has a greater induction than years of domestic combination: such was the commotion I felt at the first superfluous view of Sir Lucius O'Trigger.-Very pretty, upon my word.Female punctuation forbids me to say more; yet let me add, that it will give me joy infallible to find Sir Lucius worthy the last criterion of my affections. DELIA.

Upon my conscience! Lucy, your lady is a great mistress of language. Faith, she's quite the queen of the dictionary !— for the devil a word dare refuse coming at her call--though one would think it was quite out of hearing.

Lucy. Ay, sir, a lady of her experience

Sir Luc. Experience! what, at seventeen?

Lucy. O true, sir-but then she reads so-my stars! how she will read off hand!

Sir Luc. Faith, she must be very deep read to write this way -though she is rather an arbitrary writer too-for here are a great many poor words pressed into the service of this note, that would get their habeas corpus from any court in Christendom.

Lucy. Ah! Sir Lucius, if you were to hear how she talks of you!

Sir Luc. Oh, tell her I'll make her the best husband in the world, and Lady O'Trigger into the bargain!-But we must get the old gentlewoman's consent-and do everything fairly. Lucy. Nay, Sir Lucius, I thought you wa'n't rich enough to be so nice.

Sir Luc. Upon my word, young woman, you have hit it :I am so poor, that I can't afford to do a dirty action.-If I did not want money, I'd steal your mistress and her fortune with great deal of pleasure. However, my pretty girl, [Gives her money,] here's a little something to buy you a ribbon; and meet me in the evening, and I'll give you an answer to this. So, hussy, take a kiss beforehand to put you in mind.

[Kisses her Lucy. O Lud! Sir Lucius--I never seed such a gemman! My lady won't like you if you're so impudent.

Sir Luc. Faith she will, Lucy!-That same-pho! what's the name of it?-modesty-is a quality in a lover more praised by the women than liked; so, if your mistress asks you whether Sir Lucius ever gave you a kiss, tell her fifty-my dear.

Lucy. What, would you have me tell her a lie?

Sir Luc. Ah, then, you baggage! I'll make it a truth presently.

Lucy. For shame now! here is some one coming.
Sir Luc. Oh, faith, I'll quiet your conscience!

Enter FAG.

[Exit humming a tune

Fag. So, so, ma'am! I humbly beg pardon.
Lucy. O Lud! now, Mr. Fag-you flurry one so.

Fag. Come, come, Lucy, here's no one by-so a little less simplicity, with a grain or two more sincerity, if you please.You play false with us, madam.-I saw you give the baronet a letter. My master shall know this—and if he don't call him out. I will.

Lucy. Ha ha ha! you gentlemen's gentlemen are so hasty. That letter was from Mrs. Malaprop, simpleton.-She is taken with Sir Lucius's address.

Fag. How what tastes some people have !-Why, I suppose I have walked by her window a hundred times.—But what says our young lady? any message to my master?

Lucy. Sad news, Mr. Fag.-A worse rival than Acres! Sir Anthony Absolute has proposed his son.

Fag. What, Captain Absolute?

Lucy. Even so-I overheard it all.

Fag. Ha ha ha! very good, faith. Good bye, Lucy, I must away with this news.

Lucy. Well, you may laugh—but it is true, I assure you.— [Going] But Mr. Fag, tell your master not to be cast down by this.

Fag. Oh, he'll be so disconsolate!

Lucy. And charge him not to think of quarrelling with young Absolute.

Fag. Never fear! never fear!

Lucy. Be sure-bid him keep up his spirits.

Fag. We will-we will.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The North Parade.

Enter CAPTAIN ABSOLUTE.

Abs. 'Tis just as Fag told me, indeed. Whimsical enough, faith! My father wants to force me to marry the very girl I am plotting to run away with! He must not know of my connection with her yet awhile. He has too summary a method of proceeding in these matters. However, I'll read my recantation instantly. My conversion is something sudden, indeed—but I can assure him it is very sincere. So, so-here he comes. He looks plaguy gruff. [Steps aside.

Enter SIR ANTHONY ABSOLUTE.

Sir Anth. No-I'll die sooner than forgive him. say? I'll live these fifty years to plague him.

Die, did I At our last