or other contrive to get more votes than Rubric, he'd lose the lectureship? How did I-But what the devil makes you so dull, Letitia? I thought to have found you popping about, as brisk as the jacks of your harpsichord.

Letit. Surely, sir, it was a very serious occasion.

Hardy. Pho, pho! girls should never be grave before marriage. How did you feel, cousin, beforehand? Ay.

Mrs. R. Feel! why exceeding full of cares.

Hardy. Did you?

Mrs. R. I could not sleep for thinking of my coach, my liveries, and my chairmen; the taste of clothes I should be presented in, distracted me for a week; and whether I should be married in white or lilac, gave me the most cruel anxiety.

Letit. And is it possible that you felt no other care? Hardy. And pray, of what sort may your cares be, Mrs. Letitia? I begin to foresee now that you have taken a dislike to Doricourt.

Letit. Indeed, sir, I have not.

Hardy. Then what's all this melancholy about? An't you a going to be married? and what's more, to a sensible man? and, what's more to a young girl, to a handsome man? And what's all this melancholy for, I say?

;

Mrs. R. Why, because he is handsome and sensible, and because she's over head and ears in love with him all which, it seems, your foreknowledge had not told you a word of.

Letit. Fie, Caroline!

Hardy. Well, come, do you tell me what's the matter then? If you don't like him, hang the signing and sealing, he shan't have ye :-and yet I can't say that neither; for you know that estate, that cost his father and me upwards of fourscore thousand pounds, must all to him if you won't have him: if he won't have

go

I

you, indeed, 'twill be all yours. All that's clear, engrossed upon parchment, and the poor dear man set his hand to it whilst he was dying.-" Ah!" said I, foresee you'll never live to see them come together; but their first son shall be christened Jeremiah, after you, that I promise you."But come, I say, what is the matter? Don't you like him ?

Letit. I fear, sir-if I must speak-I fear I was less agreeable in Mr. Doricourt's eyes, than he appeared in mine.

Hardy. There you are mistaken; for I asked him, and he told me he liked you vastly. Don't you think he must have taken a fancy to her?

Mrs. R. Why really I think so, as I was not by. Letit. My dear sir, I am convinced he has not; but if there is spirit or invention in woman, he shall. Hardy. Right, girl; go to your toilette

Letit. It is not my toilette that can serve me: but a plan has struck me, if you will not oppose it, which flatters me with brilliant success.

Hardy. Oppose it! Not I indeed! What is it?

Letit. Why, sir-it may seem a little paradoxical; but, as he does not like me enough, I want him to like me still less, and will at our next interview endeavour to heighten his indifference into dislike.

Hardy. Who the devil could have foreseen that?

Mrs. R. Heaven and earth! Letitia, are you serious? Letit. As serious as the most important business of life demands.

my

Mrs. R. Why endeavour to make him dislike you?

Letit. Because 'tis much easier to convert a sentiment into its opposite, than to transform indifference into tender passion.

Mrs. R. That may be good philosophy, but I am afraid you'll find it a bad maxim.

Letit. I have the strongest confidence in it. I am inspired with unusual spirits, and on this hazard wil

VOL. V.

lingly stake my chance for happiness. I am impatient to begin my measures.

[Exit LETITIA. Hardy. Can you foresee the end of this, cousin ?

Mrs. R. No, sir; nothing less than your penetration can do that, I am sure; and I can't stay now, to consider it. I am going to call on the Ogles, and then to Lady Frances Touchwood's, and then to an auction, and then-I don't know where-but I shall be at home time enough to witness this extraordinary interview. Good-b'ye. [Exit MRS. RACKETT. Hardy. Well, 'tis an odd thing-I can't understand it but I foresee Letty will have her way, and so I shan't give myself the trouble to dispute it.

[Exit HARDY.

ACT II.

Scene I.-Sir George Touchwood's.

Enter DORICOURT and SIR GEORGE.

Doric. Married, ha! ha! ha! you, whom I heard in Paris say such things of the sex, are in London a married man.

Sir G. The sex is still what it has ever been since la petite morale banished substantial virtues; and rather than have given my name to one of your high-bred fashionable dames, I'd have crossed the line in a fireship, and married a Japanese.

Doric. Yet you have married an English beauty; yea, and a beauty born in high life.

Sir G. True; but she has a simplicity of heart and manners, that would have become the fair Hebrew damsels toasted by the Patriarchs.

Doric. Ha! ha! Why, thou art a downright matri

monial Quixote. My life on't she becomes as mere a town lady in six months, as though she had been bred to the trade.

Sir G. Common-common-[Contemptuously.] No, sir, Lady Frances despises high life so much from the ideas I have given her, that she'll live in it like a salamander in fire.

Doric. I'll send thee off to St. Evreux this night, drawn at full length, and coloured after nature.

Sir G. Tell him, then, to add to the ridicule, that Touchwood glories in the name of husband; that he has found in one English woman more beauty than Frenchmen ever saw, and more goodness than Frenchwomen can conceive.

Doric. Well-enough of description. Introduce me to this phoenix; I came on purpose.

Sir G. Introduce!-oh, ay, to be sure!-I believe Lady Frances is engaged just now-but another time.How handsome the dog looks to-day! [Aside. Doric. Another time!-but I have no other time.'Sdeath! this is the only hour I can command this fortnight.

Sir G. [Aside.] I am glad to hear it, with all my soul!-So then, you can't dine with us to-day? That's very unlucky.

Doric. Oh, yes-as to dinner-yes, I can, I believe, contrive to dine with you to-day.

Sir G. Pshaw! I didn't think on what I was saying; I meant supper.-You can't sup with us?

Doric. Why, supper will be rather more convenient than dinner.-But you are fortunate-if you had asked other night, I could not have come.

me any

Sir G. To-night!—Gad, now I recollect, we are particularly engaged to-night. But to-morrow nightDoric. Why, lookye, Sir George, 'tis very plain you have no inclination to let me see your wife at all; so here I sit. [Throws himself on a sofa.]-There's my hat,

and here are my legs-Now I sha'n't stir till I have seen her; and I have no engagements: I'll breakfast, dine, and sup with you, every day this week.

Sir G. Was there ever such a provoking wretch !— But, to be plain with you, Doricourt, I and my house are at your service: but you are a d-ned agreeable fellow; and the women, I observe, always simper when you appear. For these reasons, I had rather, when Lady Frances and I are together, that you should forget that we are acquainted, further than a nod, a smile, or a how d'ye?

Doric. Very well.

Sir G. It is not merely yourself, in propria persona, that I object to; but, if you are intimate here, you'll make my house still more the fashion than it is; and it is already so much so, that my doors are of no use to me. I married Lady Frances to engross her to myself; yet such is the blessed freedom of modern manners, that, in spite of me, her eyes, thoughts, and conversation, are continually divided amongst all the flirts and coxcombs of fashion.

Doric. To be sure, I confess that kind of freedom is. carried rather too far. 'Tis hard one can't have a jewel in one's cabinet, but the whole town must be gratified with its lustre.He sha'n't preach me out, of seeing his wife, though. [Aside. Sir G. Well, now, that's reasonable. When you take time to reflect, Doricourt, I always observe you decide right; and therefore I hope

Enter a SERvant.

Serv. Sir, my lady desires

Sir G. I am particularly engaged.

Doric. Oh, lord, that shall be no excuse in the world. [Leaping from the sofa.] Lead the way, John.-I'll attend your lady.

[Exit, following the SERVANT.