Abf. By Heavens! I fhall forfwear your company. You are the moft teafing, captious, incorrigible lover!-Do love like a man.

Faulk. I own I am unfit for company.

Abf. Am not I a lover; aye, and a romantic one too? Yet do I carry every where with me fuch a confounded farrago of doubts, fears, hopes, wishes, and all the flimfy furniture of a country

Mifs's brain!

Faulk. Ah! Jack, your heart and foul are not, like mine, fixed immutably on one only object.You throw for a large ftake, but lofing-you could ftake, and throw again :-but I have fet my fum of happiness on this caft, and not to succeed, were to be ftript of all.

Abf. But for Heaven's fake! what grounds for apprehenfion can your whimsical brain conjure up at prefent?

Faulk. What grounds for apprehenfion did you fay? Heavens! are there not a thousand! I fear for her fpirits her health-her life-My abfence may fret her; her anxiety for my return, her fears for me, may opprefs her gentle temper. And for her health does not every hour bring me caufe to be alarmed? If it rains, fome fhower may even then have chilled her delicate frame !-If the wind be keen, fome rude blast may have affected her! The heat of noon, the dews of the evening, may endanger the life of her, for whom only I value mine. O! Jack, when delicate and feeling fouls are feparated, there is not a feature in the fky, not a movement of the elements, not an afpiration of the breeze, but hints fome caufe for a lover's apprehenfion!

Abf. Aye, but we may chufe whether we will take the hint or not.--So then, Faulkland, if you were convinced that Julia were well and in fpirits, you would be entirely content.

Faulk.

Faulk. I fhould be happy beyond measureI am anxious only for that.

Abf. Then to cure your anxiety at once-Mifs Melville is in perfect health, and is at this moment in Bath.

Faulk. Nay, Jack-don't trifle with me.

Abf. She is arrived here with my father within

this hour.

Faulk. Can you be ferious?

Abf. I thought you knew Sir Anthony better than to be surprised at a fudden whim of this kind. Seriously then, it is as I tell you-upon my honour.

Faulk. My dear friend!-Hollo, Du Peigne ! my hat-my dear Jack-now nothing on earth can give me a moment's uneasiness.

Enter FAG.

Fag. Sir, Mr. Acres juft arrived is below. Abf. Stay, Faulkland, this Acres lives within a mile of Sir Anthony, and he shall tell you how your mistress has been ever fince you left her. Fag, fhew the gentleman up. [Exit Fag. Faulk. What, is he much acquainted in the family?

Abf. O, very intimate: I infift on your not going befides, his character will divert you. Faulk. Well, I fhould like to ask him a few questions.

Abf. He is likewife a rival of mine-that is of my other felf's, for he does not think his friend Capt. Abfolute ever faw the lady in question; and it is ridiculous enough to hear him complain to me of one Beverley, a concealed fculking rival, who

Faulk. Huh!-He's here.

Enter

Enter ACRES.

Acres. Hah! my dear friend, noble captain, and honeft Jack, how do'ft thou? just arrived faith, as you fee.-Sir, your humble fervant. Warm work on the roads, Jack-Odds whips and wheels! I've travelled like a Comet, with a tail of duft all the way as long as the Mall.

Abf. Ah! Bob, you are indeed an excentric Planet, but we know your attraction hithergive me leave to introduce Mr. Faulkland to you; Mr. Faulkland, Mr. Acres.

Acres. Sir, I am moft heartily glad to see you: Sir, I folicit your connections.-Hey, Jack-what this is Mr. Faulkland, who

Abf. Aye, Bob, Mifs Melville's Mr. Faulkland.

Acres. Od'fo! fhe and your father can be but juft arrived before me-I fuppofe you have seen them.-Ah! Mr. Faulkland, you are indeed a happy man.

Faulk. I have not feen Mifs Melville yet, Sir, I hope fhe enjoyed full health and spirits in Devonshire?

Acres. Never knew her better in my life, Sir, -never better.-Odd's Blushes and Blooms! fhe has been as healthy as the German Spa.

Faulk. Indeed !-I did hear that she had been a little indifpofed.

Acres. Falfe, falfe, Sir-only faid to vex you: quite the reverse I affure you.

Faulk. There, Jack, you fee fhe has the advantage of me; 1 had almost fretted myself ill.

Abf. Now are you angry with your mistress for not having been sick.

Faulk. No, no, you misunderstand me:-yet furely a little trifling indifpofition is not an unna

tural

tural confequence of abfence from thofe we love. -Now confefs-isn't there fomething unkind in this violent, robuft, unfeeling health?

Abf. O, it was very unkind of her to be well in your absence to be fure!

Acres. Good apartments, Jack.

Faulk. Well, Sir, but you was faying that Mifs Melville has been fo exceedingly well-what then she has been merry and gay I fuppofe?-Always in fpirits-hey?

Acres. Merry, Odds Crickets! fhe has been the bell and spirit of the company wherever the has been-fo lively and entertaining! fo full of wit and humour!

Faulk. There, Jack, there.-O, by my foul! there is an innate levity in woman, that nothing can overcome.-What! happy and I away!

Abf. Have done :-how foolish this is! juft now you were only apprehenfive for your miftrefs's fpirits.

Faulk. Why, Jack, have I been the joy and fpirit of the company?

Abf. No indeed, you have not.

Faulk. Have I been lively and entertaining? Abf. O, upon my word, I acquit you.

Faulk. Have I been full of wit and humour? Abf. No, faith, to do you justice, you have been confoundedly stupid indeed.

Acres. What's the matter with the gentleman? Abf. He is only expreffing his great fatisfaction at hearing that Julia has been fo well and happy -that's all-hey, Faulkland?

Faulk. Oh! I am rejoiced to hear it-yes, yes, fhe has a happy difpofition!

Acres. That he has indeed-then fhe is fo accomplifhed-fo fweet a voice-fo expert at her harp fichord-fuch a miftrefs of flat and fharp, fquallante, rumblante, and quiverante !-there was this

time month-Odds Minnums and Crotchets ! how the did chirup at Mrs. Piano's Concert.

Faulk. There again, what fay you to this? you fee fhe has been all mirth and fong-not a thought of me!

Abf. Pho! man, is not mufic the food of love? Faulk. Well, well, it may be fo.-Pray, Mr. what's his d-d name!-Do you remember what Songs Mifs Melville fung?

Acres. Not I indeed.

Abf. Stay now, they were fome pretty, melancholy purling ftream airs, I warrant; perhaps you may recollect;-did he fing-" When abfent from my foul's delight?"

Acres. No, that wa'n't it.

Abf Or," Go, gentle gales!"-" Go, gentle gales !"-(fings.)

Acres. O no! nothing like it.-Odds! now I recollect one of them-" My heart's my own, my will is free."-(fings.)

Faulk. Fool! fool that I am! to fix all my happiness on fuch a trifler! S'death! to make herself the pipe and ballad-monger of a circle! to footh her light heart with catches and glees!What can you fay to this, Sir?

Abf. Why, that I fhould be glad to hear my mistress had been fo merry, Sir.

Faulk. Nay, nay, nay-I'm not forry that the has been happy-no, no, I am glad of that-I would not have had her fad or fick-yet furely a fympathetic heart would have fhewn itself even in the choice of a fong-fhe might have been temperately healthy, and fomehow, plaintively gay; -but he has been dancing too, I doubt not! Acres. What does the gentleman say about dancing?

Abf. He fays the lady we fpeak of dances as well as the fings.