Sav. Indeed! Well, those little gallantries will soon be over-he's on the point of marriage.

Court. Marriage! Doricourt on the point of marriage! 'tis the happiest tidings you could have given, next to his being hanged.-Who is the bride elect?

Sav. I never saw her; but 'tis Miss Hardy, the rich heiress-The match was made by the parents, and the courtship began on their nurse's knees; master used to crow at miss, and miss used to chuckle at master.

Court. Oh, then by this time, they care no more for each other, than I do for my country cousins.

Sav. I don't know that; they have never met since thus high; and so, probably, have some regard for each other.

Court. Never met!-Odd!

Sav. A whim of Mr. Hardy's; he thought his daughter's charms would make a more forcible impression, if her lover remained in ignorance of them, till his return from the Continent.

Enter SAVILLE'S SERVANT.

Serv. Mr. Doricourt, sir, has been at Counsellor Pleadwell's, and gone about five minutes.

[Exit SERVANT.

Good morrow, [Going.

Sav. Five minutes-Zounds! I have been five minutes too late all my lifetime! Courtall-I must pursue him. Court. Promise to dine with me to-day ;-I have some honest fellows. [Going off on the opposite Side.

Sav. Can't promise-perhaps I may.--See there, there's a bevy of female Patagonians, coming down upon us.

Court. By the lord, then, it must be my strapping cousins-I dare not look behind me-Run, man, run! [Exit on the same Side,

SCENE II.

A Hall at DORICOURT'S.

Enter PORTER, several foreign SERVANTS, and Two TRADESMEN.

every

The PORTER takes one of them Aside.

Tradesm. Well then, you have show'd us all? French. All, en vérité, Messieurs! you avez seen ting.-Serviteur-serviteur-[Exeunt TRADESMEN.] Ah, here comes one autre curious Englishman, and dat's one autre guinea pour moi.

Enter SAVILLE.

Allons, Monsieur, dis way; I will show you tings, such tings you never see, begar, in England !-Velvets by Le Mosse-suits cut by Verdue-trimmings by Grossette-embroidery by Detanville

Sav. Puppy! where is your master?

Port. Zounds! you chattering frog-eating dunderhead, can't you see a Gentleman ?-Tis Mr. Saville. French. Monsieur Saville! Je suis mort de peur.Ten tousand pardons! Excusez mon erreur, and per,mit me you conduct to Monsieur Doricourt; he be too happy à vous voir. [Exeunt.

SCENE 111.

An Apartment at DORICOURT'S.

Enter DORICOURT.

Doric. [Speaking to a SERVANT behind.] I shall be too late for St. James's; bid him come immediately.

Enter FRENCHMAN and SAVIlle.

French. Monsieur Saville.

[Exit FRENCHMAN.

Doric. Most fortunate!-My dear Saville, let the warmth of this embrace speak the pleasure of my heart.

Sav. Well, this is some comfort, after the scurvy reception I met with in your hall.-I prepared my mind, as I came up stairs, for a bon jour, a grimace, and an adieu.

Doric. Why so?

Sav. Judging of the master, from the rest of the family. What the devil is the meaning of that flock of foreigners below, with their parchment faces, and snuffy whiskers?-What! can't an Englishman stand behind your carriage, buckle your shoe, or brush your coat?

Doric. Stale, my dear Saville, stale-Englishmen make the best soldiers, citizens, artizans, and philosophers, in the world; but the very worst footmen.

Sav. I may as well give it up-You had always the art of placing your faults in the best light; and I can't help loving you, faults and all: so to start a subject which must please you-When do you expect Miss Hardy?

Doric. Oh, the hour of expectation is past-She is arrived, and I this morning had the honour of an interview at Pleadwell's. The writings were ready: and, in obedience to the will of Mr. Hardy, we met to sign and seal.

Sav. Has the event answered? Did your heart leap or sink, when you beheld your mistress?

Doric. 'Faith, neither one nor t'other :-she's a fine girl, as far as mere flesh and blood goes.—But Sav. But what?

Doric. Why, she's only a fine girl;-complexion, shape, and features,-nothing more.

Sav. Is not that enough?

Doric. No-she should have spirit; fire! l'air enjoué! that something, that nothing, which every body feels, and which nobody can describe, in the resistless charmers of Italy and France.

Sav. Thanks to the parsimony of my father, that kept me from travel! I would not have lost my relish for true unaffected English beauty, to have been quarrelled for by all the belles of Versailles and Flo

rence.

Doric. Pho! thou hast no taste!-English beauty! 'tis insipidity: it wants the zest, it wants poignancy, Frank! Why, I have known a Frenchwoman, indebted to nature for no one thing, but a pair of decent eyes, reckon in her suite, as many counts, marquises, and petits maitres, as would satisfy three dozen of our first-rate toasts. I have known an Italian Murquizina make ten conquests in stepping from her carriage; and carry her slaves from one city to another, whose real intrinsic beauty would have yielded to half the little grisettes that pace your Mall on a Sunday.

Sav. And has Miss Hardy nothing of this?

Doric. If she has, she was pleased to keep it to herself. I was in the room half an hour, before I could catch the colour of her eyes; and every attempt to draw her into conversation, occasioned so cruel an

C

embarrassment, that I was reduced to the necessity of news, French fleets, and Spanish captures, with her father.

Sav. So, Miss Hardy, with only beauty, modesty, and merit, is doomed to the arms of a husband who will despise her.

Doric. You are unjust-Though she has not inspired me with violent passion, my honour secures her felicity.

Sav. Come, come, Doricourt, you know very well, that when the honour of a husband is locum-tenens for his heart, his wife must be as indifferent as himself, if she is not unhappy.

Doric. Pho! never moralise without spectacles.But, as we are upon the tender subject, how did you bear Touchwood's carrying Lady Frances?

Sav. You know I never looked up to her with hope; and Sir George is every way worthy of her. Doric. A la mode Angloise, a philosopher, even in love.

Sav. Come, I detain you-you seemed dressed at all points, and of course have an engagement.

Doric. To St. James's. I dine at Hardy's, and accompany them to the masquerade in the evening-but breakfast with me to-morrow, and we'll talk of our old companions-for I swear to you, Saville, the air of the Continent has not effaced one youthful prejudice or attachment.

Sav. With an exception to the case of ladies and

servants,

Doric. True; there I plead guilty:-but I have never yet found any man, whom I could cordially take to my heart, and call friend, who was not born beneath a British sky, and whose heart and manners were not truly English.

[Exeunt DORICOURT and SAVILLE.