eing-suit in a mask. Oh! Captain Clerimont, I have a quarrel with you.

Enter Servant.

Serv. Madam, your ladyship's husband desires to know whether you see company to-day, or not?

Mrs Cler. Who, you clown?
Serv. Mr Clerimont, madam.
Mrs Cler. He may come in.

Enter CLERIMONT, Sen.

Mrs Cler. Your very humble servant. Cler. Sen. I was going to take the air this morning, in my coach, and did myself the honour, before I went, to receive your commands, finding you saw company.

Mrs Cler. At any time, when you know I do, you may let me see you. Pray how did you sleep last night?-If I had not asked him that question, they might have thought we lay together. [Aside.] [Here FAINLOVE, looking through a perspective, bows to CLERIMONT, Senior.] But, captain, I have a quarrel with you-I have utterly forgot those three coupees, you promised to come again, and shew me. Your humble servant, sir.-But, oh! [As she is going to be led by the captain.] Have you sign'd that mortgage, to pay off my lady Faddle's winning at ombre?

Cler. Sen. Yes, madam.

Mrs Cler. Then all's well, my honour's safe. [Exit CLERIMONT, Sen.] Come, captain, lead me this step-for I am apt to make a false one-you shall shew me.

Capt. I'll shew you, madam, 'tis no matter for a fiddle; I'll give you them the French way, in a teaching tune. Pray, more quick—O mademoiselle que faitez vonis-A moi-There again Now slide, as it were, with and without measure -There you out-did the gipsey--and you have all the smiles of the dance to a tittle.

Mrs Cler. Why, truly, I think that the greatest part-I have seen an English-woman dance a jig with the severity of a vestal virgin

Humph. If this be French dancing and singing, I fancy I could do it-Haw! haw!

[Capers aside. Mrs Cler. I protest, Mr Gubbin, you have almost the step, without any of our country bashfulness.-Give me your hand-Haw, haw! So, so, a little quicker that's right, haw! Captain, your brother delivered this spark to me, to be di verted here, till he calls for him.

[Brit Capt. CLERIMONT. Humph. This cutting so high makes one's money jingle confoundedly. I'm resolved I'll never carry above one pocket full hereafter.

me.

Mrs Cler. You do it very readily--You amaze

Humph. Are the gentlemen of France generally so well bred as we are in England?-Are they, madam, ha! But, young gentleman, when shall I see this sister? Haw, haw, haw! Is not the higher one jumps the better?

Fain. She'll be mightily taken with you, I'm

Humph. No;-but I'm always thus pleasant, if my father's not by--I protest, I'd advise your sister to have me-I'm for marrying her at once-why should I stand shilly-shally, like a country bumpkin?

Fain. Mr Gubbin, I dare say she'll be as forward as you; we'll go in and see her. [Apart.

Mrs Cler. Then he has not yet seen the lady he is in love with? I protest very new and gallant-Mr Gubbin, she must needs believe you a frank person--Fainlove, I must see this sister too, I'm resolved she shall like him.

There needs not time true passion to discover: The most believing is the most a lover.

SCENE II.-The Park.

Enter Niece, sola.

[Exeunt.

Niece. Oh, Clerimont! Clerimont! To be struck at first sight! I'm asham'd of my weakness; I find in myself all the symptoms of a raging amour; I love solitude; I grow pale; I sigh frequently; I call upon the name of Clerimont, when I don't think of it--his person is ever in my eyes, and his voice in my ears- -methinks to hang over the head of some warbling founI long to lose myself in some pensive grove, or tain, with a lute in my hand, softening the murmurs of the water.

Look ye, cousin, the old folks resolving to marry us, I thought it would be proper to see how I liked you, as not caring to buy a pig in a poke -for I love to look before I leap.

Niece. Sir, your person and address bring to my mind the whole history of Valentine and Orson: what! would they marry me to a wild man? Pray answer me a question or two.

Humph. Ay, ay, as many as you please, cousin Bridget.

Niece. What wood were you taken in? How long have you been caught?

Humph. Caught!

Niece. Where were your haunts?

Humph. My haunts!

[Aside.

Niece. This merits my attention. Humph. Look ye d'ye see-as I said, I don't care for you—I would not have you set your heart on me-but if you like any body else let me know it-and I'll find out a way for us to get rid of one another, and deceive the old folks tha would couple us.

Niece. This wears the face of an amour--There is something in that thought which makes thy presence less insupportable.

Humph. Nay, nay, now you're growing fond; if you come with these maids tricks, to say you hate at first, and afterwards like me, you'll spoil the whole design.

Niece. Don't fear it-When I think of con

Niece. Are you not a great admirer of roots, and raw flesh-Let me look upon your nails -Don't you love blackberries, haws, and pignuts, mightily?

Humph. How!

Niece. Canst thou deny that thou wert suckled by a wolf? You haʼn't been so barbarous, I hope, since you came amongst men, as to hunt your nurse-Have you?

Humph. Hunt my nurse? Ay, 'tis so, she's distracted as sure as a gun--Hark ye, cousin, pray will you let me ask you a question or two? Niece. If thou hast yet learnt the use of language, speak, monster.

Humph. How long have you been thus? Niece. Thus! what wouldst thou say? Humph. What's the cause of it? Tell me truly now-Did you ever love any body before me? Niece. Go, go, thou'rt a savage. [Rises.

Humph. They never let you go abroad, I suppose.

Niece. Thou'rt a monster, I tell thee. Humph. Indeed, cousin, though it is folly to tell thee so--I am afraid thou art a mad woman. Nicce. I'll have thee into some forest. Humph. I'll take thee into a dark room. Niece. I hate thee.

Humph. I wish you did-There's no hate lost, I assure thee, cousin Bridget.

Niece. Cousin Bridget, quoth-a!-I'd as soon claim kindred with a mountain bear-I detest thee. Humph. You never do any harm in these fits, I hope-But do you hate me in earnest ?

Niece. Dost thou ask it, ungentle forester ? Humph. Yes, for I've a reason, look ye. It happens very well if you hate me, and in your senses, for to tell you truly-I don't much care for and there is another fine woman, as I you; am inform❜d, that is in some hopes of having me.

cleanly ermine, may the tiger be wedded to the kid!

Humph. When I of thee, may the pole-cat caterwaul with the civet!

Niece. When I harbour the least thought of thee, may the silver Thames forget its course! Humph. When I like thee, may I be soused over head and ears in a horse-pond!—But do you hate me?

Enter Aunt.

Niece. For ever; and Humph. Most heartily.

you me

?

Aunt. Ha! I like this-They are come to promises-and protestations. [Aside. Humph. I am very glad I have found a way to please you.

Niece. You promise to be constant.
Humph. Till death.

Niece. Thou best of savages!

Humph. Thou best of savages! poor Biddy. Aunt. Oh the pretty couple! joking on one another. Well, how do you like your cousin Humphry now?

Niece. Much better than I thought I shouldHe's quite another thing than what I took him for-We have both the same passions for one another.

Humph. We wanted only an occasion to open our hearts, aunt.

Aunt. Oh, how this will rejoice my brother, and Sir Harry! we'll go to 'em.

Humph. No, I must fetch a walk with a new acquaintance, Mr Samuel Pounce.

Aunt. An excellent acquaintance for your husband! come, niece, come.

Niece. Farewell, rustic. Humph. B'ye, Biddy.

Aunt. Rustic! Biddy! Ha! ha! pretty crea

tures.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I-Continues.

Enter Captain CLERIMONT and POUNCE.

Capt. Does she expect me, then, at this very instant?

Pounce. I tell you, she ordered me to bring the painter at this very hour precisely, to draw her niece-for, to make her picture peculiarly charming, she has now that down-cast pretty shame, that warm cheek, glowing with the fear and hope of to-day's fate, with the inviting, coy affectation of a bride, all in her face at once. Now I know you are a pretender that way. Capt. Enough, I warrant, to personate the character on such an inspiring occasion.

Pounce. You must have the song I spoke of perform'd at this window-at the end of which I'll give you a signal—Every thing is ready for you, -Be your pencil, your canvas stretch'd-yoursure you play your part in humour: to be a painter for a lady, you're to have the excessive flattery of a lover, the ready invention of a poet, and the easy gesture of a player.

Capt. Come, come, no more instructions; my imagination out-runs all you can say be gone, be gone! [Exit POUNCE.

A SONG.
Why, lovely charmer, tell me why,
So very kind, and yet so shy?
Why does the cold forbidding air
Give damps of sorrow and despair?
Or why that smile my soul subdue,
And kindle up my flames anew?

In vain you strive with all your art,
By turns to freeze and fire my heart:
When I behold a face so fair,
So sweet a look, so soft an air,
My ravish'd soul is charm'd all o'er,
I cannot love thee less nor more.

After the song, POUNCE appears beckoning the Captain.

Pounce. Captain, captain. [Exit Captain.

SCENE II.-Niece's Lodgings.

Enter Aunt and Niece. Aunt. Indeed, niece, I am as much overjoy'd to see your wedding day, as if it were my own. Niece. But why must it be huddled up so? Aunt. Oh, my dear, a private wedding is much better; your mother had such a bustle at hers, with feasting and fooling: besides, they did not go to bed till two in the morning.

Niece. Since you understand things so well, wonder you never married yourself.

Aunt. My dear, I was very cruel thirty years ago, and nobody ask'd me since.

Niece. Alas-a-day !

I

Aunt. Yet, I assure you, there were a great many matches proposed to me-There was Sir Gilbert Jolly; but he, forsooth, could not please; he drank ale, and smok'd tobacco, and was no fine gentleman, forsooth-but then, again, there was young Mr Peregrine Shapely, who had travell'd, and spoke French, and smiled at all I said; he was a fine gentleman-but then he was consumptive: and yet again, to see how one may be mistaken: Sir Jolly died in half a year, and my lady Shapely has by that thin slip eight children, that should have been mine; but here's the bridegroom. So, cousin Humphry!

Enter HUMPHRY.

Humph. Your servant, ladies-So, my dear-
Niece. So, my savage-

Aunt. O fie, no more of that to your husband, Biddy.

Humph. No matter, I like it as well as duck or love: I know my cousin loves me as well as I do her.

Aunt. I'll leave you together; I must go and get ready an entertainment for you when you come home. [Exit. Humph. Well, cousin, are you constant ?Do you hate me still?

Niece. As much as ever.

Humph. What a happiness it is, when people's inclinations jump! I wish I knew what to do with you: can you get nobody, d'ye think, to marry you?

Niece. Oh, Clerimont, Clerimont! where art thou? [Aside. Enter Aunt and Captain CLERIMONT disguised.

Aunt. This, sir, is the lady whom you are to draw-You see, sir, as good flesh and blood as a man would desire to put in colours--I must have her maiden picture.

Humph. Then the painter must make haste— Ha, cousin!

Niece. Hold thy tongue, good savage.

Capt. Madam, I'm generally forced to newmould every feature, and mend nature's handywork; but here she has made so finished an original, that I despair of my copy's coming up to it. Aunt. Do you hear that, niece?

Niece. I don't desire you to make graces where you find none.

Capt. To see the difference of the fair sexI protest to you, madam, my fancy is utterly ex

12

hausted with inventing faces for those that sit to me. The first entertainment I generally meet with, are complaints for want of sleep; they never look'd so pale in their lives, as when they sit for their pictures-Then, so many touches and re-touches, when the face is finishedThat wrinkle ought not to have been, those eyes are too languid, the colour's two weak, that sidelook hides the mole on the left cheek. In short, the whole likeness is struck out: but in you, madam, the highest I can come up to will be but ri gid justice.

Humph. A comical dog, this!

Aunt. Truly the gentleman seems to understand his business.

Niece. Sir, if your pencil flatters like your tongue, you are going to draw a picture that won't be at all like me. Sure, I have heard that voice somewhere. [Aside.

Capt. Madam, be pleased to place yourself near me; nearer still, madain, here falls the best light. You must know, madam, there are three kinds of airs which the ladies most delight inThere is your haughty-your mild-and your pensive air-The haughty may be express'd with the head a little more erect than ordinary, and the countenance with a certain disdain in it, so as she may appear almost, but not quite, inexorable: this kind of air is generally heightened with a little knitting of the brows-I gave my lady Scornwell her choice of a dozen frowns, before she could find one to her liking.

Niece. But what's the mild air?

Capt. The mild air is composed of a languish, and a smile-But if I might advise, I'd rather be a pensive beauty; the pensive usually feels her pulse, leans on one arm, or sits ruminating with a book in her hand-which conversation she is supposed to choose, rather than the endless importunities of lovers.

Humph. A comical dog.

Aunt. Upon my word he understands his business well; I'll tell you, niece, how your mo ther was drawn-She had an orange in her hand, and a nosegay in her bosom, but a look so pure and fresh colour'd, you'd have taken her for one of the Seasons.

Capt. You seem, indeed, madam, most inclined to the pensive-The pensive delights also in the fall of waters, pastoral figures, or any rural view suitable to a fair lady, who, with a delicate spleen, has retired from the world, as sick of its flattery and admiration.

Niece. No-since there is room for fancy in a picture, I would be drawn like the amazon Thalestris, with a spear in my hand, and an helmet on a table before me- -At a distance behind, let there be a dwarf, holding by the bridle a milk-white palfrey

Cup. Madam, the thought is full of spirit; and, if you please, there shall be a Cupid stealing away your helmet, to show that love should have a part in all gallant actions.

Ne. That circumstance may be very pictu

resque

Capt. Here, madam, shall be your own picture, here the palfrey, and here the dwarf-The dwarf must be very little, or we sha'n't have room for him. Niece. A dwarf cannot be too little.

Capt. I'll make him a blackamoor, to distinguish him from the other too powerful dwarf[Sighs] the Cupid-I'll place that beauteous boy near you; 'twill look very natural-He'll certainly take you for his mother Venus.

Nicce. I leave these particulars to your own fancy.

Capt. Please, madam, to uncover your neck a little; a little lower still-a little, little lower. Niece. I'll be drawn thus, if you please, sir. Capt. Ladies, have you heard the news of a late marriage between a young lady of a great fortune and a younger brother of a good family? Aunt. Pray, sir, how is it?

Capt. This young gentleman, ladies, is a particular acquaintance of mine, and much about my age and stature; (look me full in the face, madam;) he accidentally met the young lady, who had in her all the perfections of her sex; (hold up your head, madam; that's right:) she let him know that his person and discourse were not altogether disagreeable to her-the difficulty was, how to gain a second interview; (your eyes full upon mine, madam ;) for never was there such a sigher in all the valleys of Arcadia, as that unfortunate youth, during the absence of her he loved. Aunt. A-lack-a-day-poor young gentleman! Niece. It must be hewhat a charming amour is this! [Aside.

Capt. At length, ladies, he bethought himself of an expedient; he dress'd himself just as I am now, and came to draw her picture; (your eyes full upon mine, pray, madam.)

Humph. A subtle dog, I warrant him.

Capt. And by that means found an opportunity of carrying her off, and marrying her.

Aunt. Indeed, your friend was a very vicious

young man.

Niece. Yet, perhaps, the young lady was not displeased at what he had done.

Capt. But, madam, what were the transports of the lover, when she made him that confession! Niece. I dare say she thought herself very happy, when she got out of her guardian's hands.

Aunt. 'Tis very true, niece-There are abundance of those head-strong young baggages about town.

Capt. The gentleman has often told me, he was strangely struck at first sight; but when she sat to him for her picture, and assumed all those graces that are proper for the occasion, his torment was so exquisite, his occasions so violent, that he could not have lived a day, had he not found means to make the charmer of his heart his own.

Humph. 'Tis certainly the foolishest thing in the world to stand shilly-shally about a woman, when one has a mind to marry her.

Capt. The young painter turn'd poet on the subject; I believe I have the words by heart.

Niece. A sonnet! pray repeat it.
Capt. When gentle Parthenissa walks,

And sweetly smiles, and gaily talks,
A thousand shafts around her fly,
A thousand swains unheeded die:

If then she labours to be seen, With all her killing air and mien; From so much beauty, so much art, What mortal can secure his heart?

Humph. I fancy if 'twas sung, 'twould make a very pretty catch.

it.

Capt. My servant has a voice, you shall hear [Here it is sung. Aunt. Why, this is pretty. I think a painter should never be without a good singer-It brightens the features strangely-I profess I'm mightily pleased; I'll but just step in, and give some orders, and be with you presently. [Erit. Niece. Was not this adventurous painter called Clerimont?

Capt. It was Clerimont, the servant of Parthenissa; but let me beseech that beauteous maid to resolve, and make the incident I feign'd to her a real one-consider, madam, you are environ'd by cruel and treacherous guards, which would force you to a disagreeable marriage; your case is exactly the same with the princess of the Leontines in Clelia.

Niece. How can we commit such a solecism against all rules! what, in the first leaf of our history to have the marriage? You know it can

not be.

Cupt. The pleasantest part of the history will be after marriage.

Niece. No! I never yet read of a knight that entered tilt or tournament after wedlock-Tis not to be expected-When the husband begins, the hero ends; all that noble impulse to glory, all the generous passion for adventures is consumed in the muptial torch; I don't know how it is, but Mars and Hymen never hit it.

Humph. [Listening.] Consumed in the nuptial torch. Mars and Hymen! What can all this mean?—I am very glad I can hardly read-They could never get these foolish fancies into my head-I had always a strong brain. [Aside.] Hark ye, cousin, is not this painter a comical dog?

Niece. I think he's very agreeable company

Humph. Why, then, I tell you what-marry him. A painter's a very genteel calling-He's an ingenious fellow, and certainly poor, I fancy he'd be glad on't; I'll keep my aunt out of the room a minute or two, that's all the time you have to consider. [Exit.

Capt. Fortune points out to us this only occasion of our happiness: love's of celestial origin, and needs no long acquaintance to be manifest. Lovers, like angels, speak by intuition—Their souls are in their eyes.

Niece. Then I fear he sees mine. [Aside.] But I cann't think of abridging our amours, and cutting off all farther decorations of disguise, serenade, and adventure.

Capt. Nor would I willingly lose the merit of long services, midnight sighs, and plaintive solitudes-were there not a necessity.

Niece. Then to be seized by stealth!

Capt. Why, madam, you are a great fortune, and should not be married the common way. Indeed, madam, you ought to be stolen; nay, in strictness, I don't know but you ought to be ravish'd.

Niece. But then our history will be short. Capt. I grant it; but you don't consider there's a device in another's leading you instead of this person that's to have you; and, madam, though our amours cannot furnish out a romance, they'll make a very pretty novel-Why smiles my fair?

Niece. I am almost of opinion, that had Oroondates been as pressing as Clerimont, Cassandra had been but a pocket-book: but it looks so ordinary, to go out at a door to be married-Indeed, I ought to be taken out of a window, and run away with.

Enter HUMPHRY and POUNCE. Humph. Well, cousin, the coach is at the door. If you please I'll lead you.

Niece. I put myself into your hands, good savage; but you promise to leave me,

Humph. I tell you plainly, you must not think of having me.

Pounce. [To Capt.] You'll have opportunity enough to carry her off; the old fellow will be busy with me) I'll gain all the time I can, but be bold and prosper.

Niece. Clerimont, follow us.
you
Capt. Upon the wings of love.

[Exeunt.