Ger A note for me? Nobody ever wrote to me before; and, if they had, it would have been no use, for I can't read written hand. You can, Peter; so pray open it, and let's hear what it's all about.

Pet. [Opening and reading.] " Mamzelle." Mamzelle, to you!

Ger. Go on-go on.

Pet. "I have loved you above all earthly beings!"

Ger. Bless us, and save us!

Pet. "I dared not disclose my passion; but, believe me, my affection was equal to my silence."

Ger. Then it was great indeed!

Pet. "I have at length summoned courage to address you, and if the offer of my hand and fortune"-another proposal!-who is the fellow that writes this?

Ger. Van Nickem's clerk, Delve told you.

Pet. Yes; here's his ugly name, sure enough, at the bottom of it-Simon Sneek!

Ger. Ah! if I recollect, he's rather a good-looking young man!

Pet. Why, you don't mean to

Ger. Surely, he's better than old Swyzel!

Pet. Well! but what does it all mean? Everybody wants to marry you?

Ger. I can't help that-can I? But I shan't be in a hurry; I shall do as you do-look about me; perhaps somebody may offer that I should like better. [Clock strikes.] Hark! that's two o'clock! [Crosses, L.]—and I promised to meet the captain at the sun-dial yonder. Good bye, Peter; and mind, if you can find me a husband that I should like better than any of these, I'll make you a present the day I'm married, and you shall dance at the wedding. [Runs out, L.

Pet. [Stands staring after her, with the note open in his hand. Well, when she talks of Anne Stein always changing her partner-she's off to meet the captain now; and yet she says to me, "if you can find me a husband I should like better!" the idea of Gertrude having a husband !—a little girl, that was only a baby the other day, as it seems to me. I wonder if she'd like me better; because if she would-I want a wife myself-and I don't know why I didn't at first-But there goes that cursed captain, running

like mad to meet her!-'Gad! I begin to feel that I don't like it at all. Why can't he keep to his fine ladies, and let the others alone? I don't go and make love to Mamzelle Ernestine, do I? What business has he to talk a pack of stuff to Gertrude, and turn the poor girl's head? He'd better mind what he's about, though-I can tell him that! If he makes her unhappy, I wouldn't be in his shoes for something, for I should break every bone in my own skin!

Enter DELVE, R.

Del. What's the matter, Master Peter? you don't look pleased.

Pet. Well, I have been pleased better.

Del. Anything in that note?

Pet. This note ?-no.

This is the note you brought

from Van Nickem's. There's that young rogue, Sneek, wants to marry Gertrude.

Del. To marry Gertrude! well, now, do you know, I think he might do worse.

Pet. Might do worse?—I believe he might, too!

Del. Gertrude's by no means ill-looking.

Pet. Ill-looking ?-she's very pretty.

Del. Well-yes-I think she is,-and very good-tempered.

Pet. The best humoured soul in the world.

Del. Do you know, Master Peter, if I thought there was any chance of our living comfortably together, I shouldn't mind making up to Gertrude myself.

Pet. You!-you be hanged!

Del. Hanged! what for, I should like to know? I question, now, if I couldn't afford to marry as well as young Sneek-he doesn't get much out of Van Nickem's pocket, I'll swear.

Pet. Well, you needn't trouble your head about it, because you shan't have her.

Del. Why, Farmer Spyk, what have you to do with it? -suppose I choose, and she chooses, you're neither her father nor her mother. If you put my blood up, I'll and ask her at once.

go

Pet. And if you do, you'll put my blood up-and then

I shall knock you down.

Pet. The devil! Then I must go farther a-field, for there's nobody else that I know of in this place. Ger. [Aside.] Oh, dear! oh, dear! how blind he is, to

be sure.

Pet. Ah!-stop! What a fool I am, never to have remembered

Ger. Well, who?--what?

Pet. Why, that to-morrow will be market-day here, and that there'll be plenty of pretty girls from all the villages round about—so I can choose without the trouble of a jour

ney.

DUTCH AIR.-PETER.

To-morrow will be market day,

The streets all thronged with lasses gay
And from a crowd so great, no doubt,
Sweethearts enough I may pick out.
In verity, verity, &c.

GERTRUDE.

Be not too bold, for hearts fresh caught,
Are ne'er, I'm told, to market brought;
The best, they say, are given away,
Nor left to sell on market day.

In verity, verity, &c.

Pet. Well, at any rate, I'll take my chance of to-morrow. But yonder's Mamzelle and some of the gentlefolks, so I'll go and hear what the steward has done for me. Good bye, Gertrude. I say, mind, if you can find me a nice, little, good-tempered wife, I'll make you a present the day I'm married, and you shall dance at the wedding. [Exit, R.

Ger. Now, isn't it provoking? He can think of every body but me; and unless I were to say to him, plump, "Peter, will you marry me?"—and then, if he should say, "No!" oh, I should die with shame and disappointment. Oh, dear! oh, dear! how vexatious it is! And it's not only Peter, but nobody seems to think me worth marrying at all-nobody ever says a civil thing to me of any sort! I never had a sweetheart in all my life, and I do believe that's the reason. If I only had one to being with, I shouldn't wonder if they swarmed afterwards.

SONG.-("A Temple to Friendship.")

I don't think I'm ugly!-I'm only just twenty-
I know I should make a most excellent wife:

The girls all around me have lovers in plenty,
But I not a sweetheart can get for my life!
It isn't because I am not worth a penny,

For lasses as poor I've known dozens to win;
That I should have none, and the others so many,
I vow and declare it's a shame and a sin!

[Retires up the stage, sobbing, R.

Enter ERNESTINE and CAPTAIN AMERSFORT, L.

Amer. Why, you proposed the ride yourself, Ernestine.
Ern. Perhaps I did; but I've changed my mind.
Amer. Will you walk, then?

Ern. It's too hot.

Amer. By the side of the canal-under the trees? Ern. By the side of the canal? I wonder you don't propose that I should tow the passage-boat.

Amer. I shouldn't wonder if you proposed something equally extravagant. For myself, I have done-I shall suggest nothing else. Please yourself, if possible, and you

will please me.

Ern. Now he's out of humour.

Amer. No, not out of humour, but you are the most capricious creature!

Ern. Well, well, sir, if you are tired of your allegiance, renounce it at once. I have plenty of slaves at my footstool, who will serve me with oriental obedience !

Amer. (R.) If they really loved you, they would not encourage you in your follies.

Ern. (c.) My follies! How dare you talk to me of my follies, sir? Hold your tongue! Hold your tongue, directly! There's Gertrude, and I want to speak to her. Gertrude!

Ger. (L.) Yes, mamzelle.

[Calling. [Drying her eyes.

Ern. What's the matter, Gertrude? you've been crying.

Ger. (L.) Yes, mamzelle.

Ern. And what for? Has any one vexed you ? some

faithless swain, perhaps?

Ger. Oh, dear, no, mamzelle. I wish it was-but that's

not possible!

[Bursts out afresh.

Ern. How d'ye mean-not possible, child?

Ger. Because I haven't got a swain of any sort.
Ern. Bless the girl! What, no sweetheart, at your

age?

Ger. No, mamzelle.

Ern. Then, perhaps, that's what you're crying about? Ger. Yes, mamzelle.

Ern. Silly wench! you ought to rejoice at it rather; the men are nothing but plagues, Gertrude. Lovers, indeed! there's not one worth having.

Ger. I-I wish I had one, though, just to try. I was just saying to myself, it was a shame that some young women should have a score, and others none at all.

Amer. The girl is right enough there. It's a shame that some young women should have a score, and hold out equal hopes to all.

Ern. The sooner you lessen the number of mine, the better, then. I could manage to spare even the gallant Captain Amersfort-and-a capital thought! as you seem so concerned at the unequal division, I'll transfer you to Gertrude.

Ger. Law, mamzelle, you don't say so? Will you, really?

Amer. Ernestine! What folly!

Ern. I'm quite serious. As you have no admirer, Gertrude, and I have so many, I'll give you one of mine.

Ger. Oh, but I don't want you to give me one, mamzelle. If you'll only lend me a beau--just to encourage the

others.

We

Ern. Ha! ha! ha! delightful! That's better still!you hear, sir, I am not to give you up altogether, though you deserve it; I shall only try your obedience! command you, therefore, on pain of our sovereign displeasure, to pay all proper attentions to our handmaid, Gertrude; you are her beau till further notice.

Amer. Ernestine, are you mad?

Ern. Mad or not, you will obey me, or take the consequences. I won't be charged with folly and extravagance for nothing-[Aside.] Remember, I have promised my father to decide this day in favour of somebody. If you hesitate only, you are excluded from all chance.-[Aloud.] Gertrude, I lend you a beau, on your personal security, mind.

Ger. Oh, you needn't be afraid, mamzelle-I'll take the greatest care of him-and, besides