For the girl your sister.

Harry Courl. Louisa! she

Is pre-engag'd to my friend Frederic Worlace.

Mr. Courl. Fool, what care I? I did not pre-engage her;

Besides, have not my many lessons taught you

That woman is too trivial or mischievous
E'er to be trusted to her inclination,
Or by the wise to merit an appraisement
In any thing but the appendage lucre ?
Harry Courl. Indeed, sir, you have not.
Mr. Courl. No, lubbard, no?

Hear me; for I can still restrain my rage!
When honourable Mr. Scholium greets you
Receive him as if he already were

Affianc'd to the girl-Dare not to smile-
And for the general too I'll use device,
And slip his neck into the marriage-yoke.

Harry Courl. (ironically) How?-(seems to consi-
der) Yes, now I've a glimpse of what you mean:
You'll make Louisa wed them both, and thus-
No, I am wrong-your scheme's a wise one, sir:
You mean that I shall be the general's spouse.

Mr. Courl. No, puppy; but the sister of that oaf The peasant Robert.

Harry Courl. (alarmed) She? why, sir, she too Is pre-engag'd!

Mr. Courl. Silence, know heretofore

I've wink'd at your attentions to the girl.

Harry Courl. Then why, sir, now prohibit them?
Mr. Courl. Why sir?

Because I thought love would like fire in time
Extract the burn 't had given-I was wrong,
Compulsion is the sole expedient left me:

You must, you shall forget the low-born wench.
Harry Courl. Would I not if low birth excluded
worth?

But, sir, the very gold you prize so much
May be found purer in its earthy bed

Than in a great man's purse--I'd not condemn
A reach at grandeur from the base of merit.
But hope may be sown on altitude

Too high to germe and ripen into truth;
Or we may rise above our element
Like aeronauts, who gaily towering find
Their airy basis less and less substantial.

Mr. Courl. Good Harry, leave these cursed fanta. sies;

For I have thought, and peradventure hit on
Primeval's daughter and his purse for you.

Harry Courl. (ironically) Oh then I must resume a

cheerful mein

And yet the brow, sir, of a high-born damsel
May be too often, like the mountain's top,
O'ercast with vapours.

Mr. Courl. Jesting, sirrah, ha !

Mark me, you must, you shall forsake the girl!
All she depends on are her brother's earnings.

Harry Courl. Excuse me, sir-she has a treasure rich

And inexhaustible.

Mr. Courl. (with surprise) Hey, what, how, Harry? Harry Court. And yet she has drawn copiously from it

To make so vain a purchase.

Mr. Courl. You amaze me!

What purchase, what?

Harry Courl. (bowing) Your very humble servant. Mr. Courl. But how, my boy, how was the payment made?

How issued?

Harry Courl. In the fond effusions, sir,

Of an o'erflowing soul (Mr. Courland stamps with rage) Pshaw, never mind:

My heart is past all ransom—it is sold-
Mr. Courl. Yes, to the devil, in his usual shape!

Enter a servant.

Serv. The honourable Mr. Scholium.

Mr. Courl. The honourable Mr. Scholium! D-mnable luck-that he should come at this time, Find me perturb'd-so choleric, so pale!

(to the servant) Request, do you hear, his honour to

walk up.

[exit servant For the present we will drop the subject, boy: Look at me, do I seem to have the ague?

Harry Courl. The ague, my dear sir! you are as red

As a fresh burning bush: passion becomes you.

Mr. Courl. Then as to health I'll meet with a good face

This son of wealth and plenty, Mr. Scholium;

He is, no doubt, a paragon of high life

Cloth'd in the finest broad cloth- -Hark, he comes! And I am so abash'd I feel constrain'd

To avert my eyes from his superior presence.

Re-enter servant.

'Mr. Courland (turning away his face, and awkwardly seizing the hand of the servant, whom he mistakes for Scholium) My far renown'd and condescending guest, I am your humble and obedient slave.

(fearfully looking round, and discovering his mistake) Fool, scoundrel, where left you the gentleman ? Serv. Hobbling up stairs, your honour.

Mr. Courl. Hobbling up stairs?

Harry Courl. (ironically) His mighty bulk must be a clog to motion.

Mr. Courl. I hear his footsteps.

Enter Inference.

Mr. Courl. (seizing his hand without venturing to observe his person) Honourable sir,

Inference. Wherefore, to merit still your good opinion,

I'll prove you are not qualified to write

Your travels- -pray be coolShall I employ
Two negatives particular? for these,

If you allow them, can be made to serve
As minors of what we logicians call

The fourth mood of the second figure; and
This is the mood Daroco.

Moonshine. Sir, plain English:

You rise to words I do not understand.
Inference. My subject's deep.

Moonshine. And yet your language flighty :

Be brief.

Inference. I will now for my negatives:
You are not yet as mad as a march-hare,
You are not yet as blind as a black beetle,
You are not yet-

Moonshine. (putting his hand to Inference's mouth.)
Stop, man, I say: 'tis late;

And we have yet to feign a specious plea
For our apparel and lank visages.

Inference. 'Tis true we once were in much better garb

I mean when habited in borrowed suits,
We with their aid and well-assured fronts
Procur'd our letters to this Mr. Courland.

Moonshine. These letters say we are the sons of wealth.

Inference. Hence the corollary we've to lament, That our scant semblance cannot but belie them.

Enter HARRY COURLAND unperceived.

Moonshine. (approaching a post) No matter—I've a remedy you here

Observe the body of a post.

Inference. (pretending to mistake Moonshine for the post) Oh yes,

And the head too: (laying his hand on Moonshine's head) 'tis old and tottering.

Moonshine. (seizing Inference's hand, and violently placing it on the post.)

Blind man, you are wrong! this is the post-this, this.

Inference. Oh granted-a self-evident position.
Moonshine. Well, you observe this cord. (taking one
from his pocket.)
Inference. I do, and yet

(ironically) I have my fears it will not bear your weight. Moonshine. Sir! this insinuation-but, no mat

ter

The cord, which must be quite two yards in length-
Inference. A mere hypothesis, and to be prov'd
Experimentally with rule or yard-stick.

Moonshine. (without attending to the interruption) The cord we'll wind three times or more around Our three bodies.

Inference. How? This must be demonstrated. Moonshine. Yours, mine-sir, you perplex me ! Inference. You must mean

To include the body of the post, methinks.

Moonshine. Why yes

and then vociferate for aid

As strenuously as the consumptive state

Of our pulmonic organs will permit.

Inference. Wherefore?

Moonshine. To seem the feigned personages Depicted in our letters: you the great

And honourable Mr. Scholium,

I general Magnavantine.

Inference. I a gentleman

Decay'd, and you a routed general.

Moonshine. Sir, will you listen?

That after having valiantly repell❜d
A host-

Inference. Of moths and bloody-minded gnats,
Musquetoes call'd, we made a brave retreat
With not e'en thread-bare raiment to our bones,