Julia. My tears must thank you, sir-I have no words to do it.

Wel. This way if you please, madam.

[Exeunt.

Scene V-Larron's House.

Enter MR. LARRON and YOUNG MANLY.

Lar. Sir, vat you vant? Pardie vat you make noise in my house-de house in England you call de chateau, de castel-vat you mean, you besiege my castel, sir?-Vat you vant, hey?

Y. Man. Want!-must I repeat it to you a hundred times, you blockhead? I want Miss Wingrove-where is she? Miss Wingrove, sir, Miss Wingrove, is the fellow dumb? Produce Miss Wingrove-Produce the young lady you brought home this morning-let me see her instantly.

Lar. De young ladi, qui m'acompagnoit ce matin, vat right have you to make question of me, sir? I know noting of de young ladi-I no lock de ladi up, Monsieur-You say she Miss Wingrove. If Miss Wingrove shose rader to come to my house den go to her fader's ce n'est pas ma faute; if she take into her head to go away again, ce n'est pas ma faute neider.

Y. Man. I would advise you, sir, not to be altogether so indifferent upon this occasion-You may not perhaps be aware that I possess a most excellent remedy for a certain complaint called in your country, sang froidand if your symptoms should continue so very alarming, I fancy I shall feel myself under the necessity of applying it. [Showing his cane.

Lar. Monsieur! you not take a me right--my deficience of de langue Angloise must s'il vous plait be mon excuse -Veritablement, I not know vere de young ladi be, more den yourself, sir. Vous plait il you please to make demande of my vife.

Enter MRS. LARRON.

Monsieur elle aura peutetre, so much complaisance for you to inform of de cause of de ladi's departure, but pour moi, she vil not have de condescension de m'instruire pas u'n seul syllable.

Y. Man. Well, Mrs. Larron, you hear I am referred to you, will you favour me with some account of Miss

Wingrove?

Mrs. Lar. Dear heart a day-Here's a racket and a fuss indeed! I wishes she'd been fur enough before she set her foot within my doors, I knows.

Y. Mun. Nay, but Mrs. Larron, I must know immediately where she is.

Mrs. Lar. Must you, sir?-Why then you must know more than I can tell you-Your father came to visit her.

Y. Man. My father!

Mrs. Lar. Yes, sir-and so she went away-that's all I knows.

Y. Man. Did she go with him?

Mrs. Lar. Why yes, sir,-I suppose so-Lord, you axes one so many questions.

Y. Man. My dear Mrs. Larron, why wou'dn't you make me happy sooner, by saying so at once?

Mrs. Lar. Lord, one should have a fine life on't indeed, if one was to do nothing but make every body happy.

Y. Man. Your economy in that respect, madam, is at least good natured to your visitors, and as I have no inclination to disturb so laudable a cruelty I will wish you a good morning.

[Exit.

Mrs. Lar. And a good riddance of you then, if you goes to that. This comes all along with you, Larron, I'm sure I may say it's a judgment upon you for thinking to serve me so.

Lar. It be von judgment done upon ma follie to keep

in de house von termagante like yourself-De young ladi like ver well to come to my house-She beg, she pray to come—I bring her to you—I leave her vid you -Vat she do den? Ma foi, she run away directement.

Mrs. Lar. Was it so indeed? And so I was in madam's way was I? Oh this is pretty usage indeed! to me who have been the making of you.

Lar. You not hold your tongue, begar, I tourne you out of doors, tout de suite.

Mrs. Lar. You turn me out doors, Larron? I dares you to do it-You knows as I knows enough to hang you if I pleases-You forgets who broke open

Lar. Vat you keep quarrel, quarrel for? You know I not like the quarrel-You and I be good friend-A ca— Give me your hand-pardie—I vill set all right-I vill make you my

vife.

Mrs. Lar. Will you? But I am grown a little too wise for that now; I sees you aim well enough, you only wants to get clear of my evidence, and to have the law of your side, for using me ill—No, no, Lewis, I am not such a fool as you thinks me.

Lar. Vill any ting please you? You juste now complain

Mrs. Lar. Aye, but now d'ye see, I will keep my freedom as security for your good behaviour-You are in my power now, and so I will keep you-I knows you have no love for me, but I will make you fear me.

Lar. Eh bien, my dear, we understand von anoder now-you now be ma maistresse en toute choses et pour toujours.

Mrs. Lar. What's that you are jabbering?

Lar. I say, my dear, dat you are so convince me of your great discretion dat you now be my mistress in all tings, and for ever.

Mrs. Lar. Oh! why that's very well-come into dinner then like a good creter as you are, and never, my dear Lewis, never, never forget, that it is in my power to hang you.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

Scene !-Miss Herbert's House.

Enter Miss HERBERT and LORD DARTFord. Miss Her. I am happy to see your lordship-I hope you bring good tidings of Miss Wingrove.

Lord D. Indeed, my dear madam, you flatter yourself and me. I was sent here, in pursuit of good tidings, or of any tidings-for after the most prodigal expense of bodily fatigue, we are just as much in the dark as ever.

Miss Her. What, no intelligence!

Lord D. None-none-I have just left her fantastic father, and her imperious brother, almost as anxiously on the hunt for this modern relation, as if they were persecuting an old parchment, to bring forth a lurking morsel of ancient kindred in the reign of king Lud, or queen Boadicea. It is very unaccountable.

Miss Her. Unaccountable indeed!

Lord D. I mean every way unaccountable-the motives that could have led to her escape, as well as the success with which she has accomplished it. Women are not apt to misunderstand their happiness in these matters—I cannot lay that to their charge, positively.

Miss Her. [Aside.] Coxcomb!-a thought occurs to me, by which if I succeed I shall be better enabled to reconcile matters with my haughty lover, and rescue Julia from her embarrassments should she be discovered -I'll make him believe I have a fancy for him myself. [To LORD DARTFORD.] Indeed, my lord, as your lordship very justly observes, women are but seldom guilty of such extravagant inattention to their own interestsgiddy girl-what would she have aspired to?-such rank-such accomplishments!

Lord D. Yes; and such a rooted-such a disinterested-such an inviolable attachment.

Miss Her. To be sure, my lord. Obdurate Julia! Where were your eyes? Where was your sensibility? Where had you mislaid your understanding?

Lord D. Very true; where indeed? I that lived but for her?

Miss Her. That an affection so ardent-a constancy so noble-should receive so ill a return! Unkind Miss Wingrove! [Sighs heavily.

Lord D. Eh! What's this?-I begin to perceive something here; and the best on it is, she has a better fortune than the other-I wish I had not talked so much of my constancy. I must wheel about though. [To MISS HERBERT.] And yet, Miss Herbert, I cannot help thinking that, latterly, Miss Wingrove hardly appeared to me to preserve that

Miss Her. No, indeed, my lord—I have partly thought so too.

Lord D. That kind of suavity, as it were—that inexpressible something.

Miss Her. That plaintive delicacy-that deprecating eye-those imploring smiles-that persuasion, which carried with it the authority of conquest; and that gentle command, which turned enforced captivity into voluntary submission. [Aside.] Dear girl, I cannot help doing her justice in the very heat of this feigned hostility. Lord D. And then her spirits-have some how or other

Miss Her. Yes, her spirits, too, have lost that elegant dejection, that pensive apathy-that graceful mope-if one may so express it, that used to shed the soft benignant influence of an autumn evening over every thing around her. How blind have I been! now that your lordship suggests it, I see it all. [Aside.] I am obliged to help him out in his very abuse, for he knows too little of love's rhetoric, even to hate with eloquence.