SCENE I. WESTMINSTER-HALL.

Enter FRANKLY and GRANGER, meeting.

Frank. Is it possible!

Gran. Frankly!

Frank. Dear Granger! I did not expect you these ten days: how came you to be so much better than your word?

Gran. Why, to tell you the truth, because I began to think London better than Paris.

Frank. That's strange: but you never think like other people.

Gran. I am more apt to speak what I think than other people: though, I confess, Paris has its charms; but to me they are like those of a coquette, gay and gaudy; they serve to amuse with, but a man would not choose to be married to them. In short, I am to pass my days in old England, and am therefore resolved not to have an ill opinion of it.

Frank. These settled thoughts, Ned, make me hope

that if ever you should marry, you will be as partial to the woman you intend to pass your days with.

Gran. Faith, I think every man's a fool that is not. When I marry, I expect no great matters; none of your angels; a mortal woman will do my business, as you'll find, when I tell you my choice.

Frank. I am impatient till I know her.

Gran. Even the sage and haughty prude, Sophronia. Frank. Sophronia! why, she thinks she has more sense than all her sex together.

Gran. I grant it she is half mad with her learning and philosophy: what then? so are most of our great men, when they get a little too much on't. Nay, she is so wrapt in the pride of her imaginary knowledge, that she almost forgets she is a woman, and thinks all offers of love to a person a dishonour to the dignity of her soul; but all this does not discourage me: she may fancy herself as wise as she pleases; but, unless I fail in my measures, I think I shall convince her that she is of the same composition as myself in a fortnight.

Frank. You must have better luck than I had then ; I was her fool for above five months together, and did not come ill-recommended to the family; but could make no more impression than upon a vestal virgin; and yet this marble-hearted lady, who could not bear my addresses to herself, has, notwithstanding, woman enough about her to be confoundedly uneasy that I now pay them to her sister. But the jest is, she can't yet bring down her vanity to believe I am in earnest with Charlotte neither; but really fancies my addresses there are all grimace; the mere malice of a rejected lover, to give her scorn a jealousy.

Gran. Admirable !-Well, when all's said, she is vastly handsome.

Frank. Why don't you visit her?

Gran. Oh! I do all things by rule-not till she bas dined; for our great English philosopher, my lord Bacon, tells you, that then the mind is generally most ductile.

Frank. Wisely considered.

Gran. Besides, I want to have a little talk firs the old gentleman her father. [Sir Gilbert speaks be Frank. Sir Gilbert! If I don't mistake, yonde

comes.

Gran. Where, pr'ythee?

Frank. There, by the bookseller's; don't you see him, with an odd crowd after him?

Gran. Oh! now I have him-he's loaded with papers, like a solicitor.

Frank. Sir, he is at this time a man of the first consequence, and receives more petitions every hour than the court of chancery in a whole term.

Gran. What! is he lord treasurer?

Frank. A much more considerable person, I can assure you: he is a South Sea director, sir.

Gran. Oh, I cry you mercy! and those about him, I presume, are bowing for subscriptions.

Frank. That's their business, you may be sure; but see, at last he has broke from them. Let's stand off, and observe a little?

Gran. With all my heart.

Sir G. [To a Man at the Door] Pr'ythee, be quiet, fellow! I tell you I'll send the duke an answer to-morrow morning.

[Within] It's very well, sir

Enter SIR GILBERT WRANGLE, speaking, with a great Parcel of open Letters in his Hand, and others stuffing his Pockets.

Sir G. Very well! ay, so it is, if he gets it then— Why! what! these people of quality, sure, think they do you a favour when they ask one-Huh, let him come for it himself! I am sure I was forced to do so at his house, when I came for my own, and could not get it neither-and he expects I should give him two thousand pounds only for sending a footman to me. Why! what! does his grace think I don't know which side my bread's buttered on? Let's see! [Reads to himself. Gran. The old gentleman's no blind admirer of a man of quality, I see.

Frank. Oh, sir! he has lately taken up a mortal aversion to any man that has a better title than himself. Gran. How so pray?

Frank. As he grows rich, he grows proud; and, among friends, had lately a mind to be made a lord himself; but applying to the wrong person, it seems he was disappointed; and ever since piques himself upon despising any nobleman who is not as rich as himself. Gran. Hah! the right plebeian spirit of old England: but I think he's counted an honest man.

Frank. Umph! Yes, well enough—a good sort of a mercantile conscience: he is punctual in bargains, and expects the same from others; he will neither steal nor cheat, unless he thinks he has the protection of the law: then indeed, as most thriving men do, he thinks honour and equity are chimerical notions.

Enter a Footman, with a Letter.

Sir G. To me, friend!- -What, will they never have done?

Foot. Sir, my lady Double-chin presents her service, and says she'll call for your honour's answer tomorrow morning.

Sir G. Very well; tell my lady, I'll take care~[Exit Footman] to be exactly out of the way when she

comes.

Gran. Hah! he'll keep that part of his word, I warrant him.

Sir G. Let's see: the old story, I suppose [Reads] Um-um-yes, yes-only two thousand-Hah! Does the woman take me for a fool? Does she think I don't know that a two thousand subscription is worth two thousand guineas? And because she is not worth above fourscore thousand already, she would have me give them to her for nothing. To a poor relation, she pretends, indeed; as if she loved any body better than herself. A drum! and a fiddle! I'll grease none of your fat sows, not I.-No, no; get you into the negative pocket.Bless my eyes! Mr. Granger! Gran. Sir Gilbert, I am your most humble servant.