Col. O. But hold-hark you!-you say there's money to be had-suppose you were to marry the wench?

Har. Do you think, sir, that would be so right, after what has happened? Besides, there's a stronger objection--to tell you the truth, I am honourably in love in another place.

Col. O. Oh! you are!

Har. Yes, sir; but there are obstacles- -a father! -In short, sir, the mistress of my heart lives in this very county, which makes even my present situation a little irksome.

Col. O. In this county! Zounds! Then I am sure I am acquainted with her, and the first letter of her name is

Har. Excuse me, sir, I have some particular rea

sons

Col. O. But look who comes yonder-Ha! ha! ha! My son, picking his steps like a dancing master.— Pr'ythee, Harman, go into the house, and let my wife and daughter know we are come, while I go and have some sport with him: they will introduce you to Sir John Flowerdale.

Har. If I find your friendship can be of any use to me, depend upon it I shall put it to the test.

[Exit into the House.

Enter MR. JESSAMY, and THREE SERVANTS. Col. O. Why, zounds! one would think you had never put your feet to the ground before; you make as much work about walking a quarter of a mile, as

if you had gone a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.

Jess. Colonel, you have used me extremely ill, to drag me through the dirty roads in this manner.You told me the way was all over a bowling green; only see what a condition I am in!

Col, O. Why, how did I know the roads were dirty is that my fault? Besides, we mistook the

way. Zounds, man, your legs will be never the worse, when they are brushed a little.

Jess. Antoine! have you sent La Roque for the shoes and stockings? Give me the glass out of your pocket-not a dust of powder left in my hair, and the frissure as flat as the foretop of an attorney's clerk-get your comb and pomatum; you must borrow some powder; I suppose there's such a thing as a dressing room in the house?

Col. O. Ay, and a cellar, too, I hope; for I want a glass of wine cursedly-but hold! hold! Frank, where are you going? Stay, and pay your devoirs here, if you please; I see there's somebody coming out to welcome us.

Enter LIONEL, DIANA, and CLARISSA, from the House.

Lionel. Colonel, your most obedient; Sir John is walking with my lady in the garden, and has commissioned me to receive you.

Col. O. Mr. Lionel, I am heartily glad to see you: come here, Frank-this is my son, sir. Lionel. Sir, I am exceeding proud to

Jess. Can't you get the powder, then?

Col. O. Miss Clary, my little Miss Clary, give me a kiss, my dear-as handsome as an angel, by Heavens! Frank, why don't you come here? this is Miss Flowerdale!

Diana. Oh, Heavens, Clarissa! Just as I said, that impudent devil is come here with my father. Jess. Hadn't we better go into the house?

AIR.

To be made in such a pickle!

Will you please to lead the way, sir?

Col. O. No-but if you please, you may, sir,
For precedence none will stickle.

Ma'am, permit me!

Cruel, must I, can 1 bear?

Oh, adverse stars!

Oh, fate severe !

Beset, tormented,

Each hope prevented:

Col. O. None but the brave deserve the fair.

Clar.
Col. O.

Come, ma'am, let me lead
Now, sir, I precede you.

you:

Lovers must ill usage bear.

Oh, adverse stars! oh, fate severe !
None but the brave deserve the fair.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

A Hall in SIR JOIN FLOWERDALE's House, with the View of a grand Staircase through an Arch. On either Side of the Staircase below, two Doors, leading from different Apartments.

Enter LIONEL, followed by JENNY.

Jenny. Well, but Mr. Lionel, consider, pray consider, now; how can you be so prodigious undiscreet

as you are, walking about the hall here, while the gentlefolks are within in the parlour? Don't you think they'll wonder at your getting up so soon after dinner, and before any of the rest of the company?

Lionel. For Heaven's sake, Jenny, don't speak to me: I am the most wretched and miserable of mankind.

Jenny. Poor dear soul! I pity you. Yes, yes, I believe you are miserable enough, indeed; and I assure you I have pitied you a great while, and spoke many a word in your favour, when you little thought you had such a friend in a corner.

Lionel. But, good Jenny, since by some accident or other you have been able to discover what I would willingly hide from all the world, I conjure you, as you regard my interest, as you value your lady's peace and honour, never let the most distant hint of it escape you; for it is a secret of that importance

Jenny. And perhaps you think I can't keep a secret. Ah, Mr. Lionel! it must be hear, see, and say nothing in this world, or one has no business to live in it; besides, who would not be in love with my lady? There's never a man this day alive but might be proud of it; for she is the handsomest, sweetest temperdest! and, I am sure, one of the best mistresses ever poor girl had.

Lionel. Oh, Jenny! she's an angel.

Jenny. And so she is, indeed.-Do you know, that she gave me her blue and silver sack to-day, and it is every crumb as good as new; and, go things as they will, don't you be fretting and vexing yourself; for I am mortally sartain she would liverer see a toad than this Jessamy. Though I must say, to my thinking, he's a very likely man; and a finer pair of eye-brows, and a more delicate nose, I never saw on a face.

Lionel. By Heavens, I shall run mad.

Jenny. And why so? It is not beauty that always takes the fancy: moreover, to let you know, if it

was, I don't think him any more to compare to you, than a thistle is to a carnation: and so's a sign; for, mark my words-my lady loves you, as much as she hates him.

Lionel. What you tell me, Jenny, is a thing I neither merit nor expect: No, I am unhappy, and let me continue so; my most presumptuous thoughts shall never carry me to a wish that may affect her quiet, or give her cause to repent.

Jenny. That's very honourable of you, I must needs say! but, for all that, liking's liking, and one can't help it; and if it should be my lady's case, it is no fault of yours. I am sure, when she called me into her dressing room, before she went down to dinner, there she stood with her eyes. brimful of tears; and so I fell a-crying for company-and then she said she could not abide the chap in the parlour; and, at the same time, she bid me take an opportunity to speak to you, and desire you to meet her in the garden this evening after tea; for she has something to say to you.

Lionel. Jenny, I see you are my friend; for which I thank you, though I know it is impossible to do me any service; take this ring, and wear it for my sake.

Jenny. I am very much obliged to your honour; I am your friend, indeed;-but, I say, you won't forget to be in the garden now; and, in the mean time, keep as little in the house as you can—for walls have eyes and ears; and I can tell you the servants take notice of your uneasiness, though I am always desiring them to mind their business.

Lionel. Pray have a care, Jenny, have a care, my dear girl--a word may breed suspicion.

Jenny. Psha! have a care yourself: it is you that breeds suspicion, sighing and pining about; you look for all the world like a ghost; and, if you don't pluck up your spirits, you will be a ghost soon; letting