sugar-cane. What shall I do? give the chace up? Hang it, that's cowardly. Shall I, a true-born son of Phœbus, suffer this little nimble-footed Daphne to escape me?" Forbid it, honour, and forbid it, "love:" -Hush, hush-here she comes. Oh, the devil! got here What tawdry thing have we Mrs. FULMER enters to him. Mrs. Ful. Your humble servant, sir. Bel. Yes, ma'am, and so cool, that if the calendar didn't call it July, I should swear it was January. Mrs. Ful. Sir ! Bel. Madam! Mrs. Ful. Do you wish to speak to Mr. Fulmer, sir? Bel. Mr. Fulmer, madam? I hav'n't the honour of knowing such a person. Mrs. Ful. No, I'll be sworn, have you not; thou art much too pretty a fellow, and too much of a gentleman, to be an author thyself, or to have any thing to say to those that are so. 'Tis the captain, I suppose, you are waiting for. Bel. I rather suspect it is the captain's wife. Mrs. Ful. The captain has no wife, sir. Bel. No wife! I'm heartily sorry for it; for then she's his mistress; and that I take to be the more desperate case of the two: pray, madam, wasn't there D a lady just now turn'd into your house? 'Twas with her I wish'd to speak. Mrs. Ful. What sort of a lady, pray ? Bel. One of the loveliest sort my eyes ever beheld; young, tall, fresh, fair; in short, a goddess. Mrs. Ful. Nay, but dear, dear sir, now I'm sure you flatter: for 'twas me you followed into the shop door this minute. Bel. You! No, no, take my word for it, it was not you, madam. Mrs. Ful. But what is it you laugh at? Bel. Upon my soul, I ask your pardon; but it was not you, believe me be assur'd it wasn't. Mrs. Ful. Well, sir, I shall not contend for the honour of being noticed by you; I hope you think you wou'dn't have been the first man that noticed me in the streets; however, this I'm positive of, that no living woman but myself has enter'd these doors this morning. Bel. Why then I'm mistaken in the house, that's all; for 'tis not humanly possible I can be so far out in the lady. [Going. Mrs. Ful. Coxcomb! But hold-a thought occurs; as sure as can be he has seen Miss Dudley. A word with you, young gentleman; come back. Bel. Well, what's your pleasure? Mrs. Ful. You seem greatly captivated with this young lady; are you apt to fall in love thus at first sight? Bel. Oh, yes: 'tis the only way I can ever fall in 2 love; any man may tumble into a pit by surprise, none but a fool would walk into one by choice. Mrs. Ful. You are a hasty lover it seems; have you spirit to be a generous one? They that will please the eye mustn't spare the purse. Bel. Try me; put me to the proof? bring me to an interview with the dear girl that has thus captivated me, and see whether I have spirit to be grateful. Mrs. Ful. But how, pray, am I to know the girl you have set your heart on? Bel. By an undescribable grace, that accompanies every look and action that falls from her: there can be but one such woman in the world, and nobody can mistake that one. Mrs. Ful. Well, if I should stumble upon this angel in my walks, where am I to find you ? What's your name? Bel. Upon my soul, I cann't tell you my name. Bel. Because I don't know what it is myself; as yet I have no name. Mrs. Ful. No name! Bel. None; a friend, indeed, lent me his; but he forbad me to use it on any unworthy occasion. Mrs. Ful. But where is your place of abode ? Bel. I have none; I never slept a night in England in my life. Mrs. Ful. Hey day! SCENE VI. Enter FULMER. Ful. A fine case, truly, in a free country; a pretty pass things are come to, if a man is to be assaulted in his own house. Mrs. Ful Who has assaulted you, my dear? Ful. Who! why this Captain Drawcansir, this old Dudley, my lodger: but I'll unlodge him; I'll unharbour him, I warrant. Mrs. Ful. Hush! hush! hold your tongue, man; pocket the affront, and be quiet; I've a scheme on foot will pay you a hundred beatings. Why you surprise me, Mr. Fulmer; Captain Dudley assault you! Impossible. Ful. Nay, I cann't call it an absolute assault; but he threatened me. Mrs. Ful. Oh, was that all? I thought how it would turn out- -A likely thing, truly, for a person of his obliging compassionate turn: no, no, poor Captain Dudley, he has sorrows and distresses enough of his own to employ his spirits, without setting them against other people. Make it up as fast as you can: watch this gentleman out; follow him wherever he goes; and bring me word who and what he is; be sure you don't lose sight of him; I've other business in hand. [Exit. Bel. Pray, sir, what sorrows and distresses have befallen this old gentleman you speak of? Ful. Poverty, disappointment, and all the distresses attendant thereupon: sorrow enough of all conscience: I soon found how it was with him by his way of living, low enough of all reason; but what I overheard this morning put it out of all doubt. Bel. What did you overhear this morning? Ful. Why, it seems he wants to join his regiment, and has been beating the town over to raise a little money for that purpose upon his pay; but the cli mate, I find, where he is going, is so unhealthy, that nobody can be found to lend him any. Bel. Why then your town is a damn'd good-fornothing town and I wish I had never come into it. Ful. That's what I say, sir; the hard-heartedness of some folks is unaccountable. There's an old Lady Rusport, a near relation of this gentleman's; she lives hard by here, opposite to Stockwell's, the great merchant; he sent to her a begging, but to no purpose; though she is as rich as a Jew, she would not furnish him with a farthing. Bel. Is the captain at home? Ful. He is up stairs, sir. Bel. Will you take the trouble to desire him to step hither? I want to speak to him. Ful. I'll send him to you directly. I don't know what to make of this young man; but, if I live, I will find him out, or know the reason why. [Exit. Bel. I've lost the girl, it seems; that's clear: she was the first object of my pursuit; but the case of |