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duke: how much money do you think a duke | Instead of a sword she endu'd them with wit, would expect with such a wench?

Jenk. Why, colonel, with submission, I think there is no occasion to go out of our own country here we have never a duke in it, I believe, but we have many an honest gentleman, who, in my opinion, might deserve the young lady.

Col. O. So you would have me marry Dy to a country squire, eh! How say you to this, Dy? would not you rather be married to a duke?

Diana. So my husband 's a rake, papa, I don't care what he is.

Col. O. A rake! you damned, confounded, little baggage; why you would not wish to marry a rake, would you? So her husband is a rake, she does not care what he is! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Diana. Well, but listen to me, papa-When you go out with your gun, do you take any pleasure in shooting the poor tame ducks and chickens in your yard? No, the partridge, the pheasant, the woodcock, are the game; there is some sport in bringing them down, because they are wild; and it is just the same with a husband, or a lover. I would not waste powder and shot, to wound one of your sober, pretty-behaved gentlemen; but to hit a libertine, extravagant, madcap fellow, to take him upon the wing

Col. O. Do you hear her, Master Jenkins? Ha, ha, ha!

And gave them a shield in their beauty.

Sound, sound then the trumpet, both sexes to arms,
Our tyrants at once and protectors!

We quickly shall see, whether courage or narms
Exit.

Decide for the Helens or Hectors.

Col. O. Well, Master Jenkins! don't you think now that a nobleman, a duke, an earl, or a marquis, might be content to share his title-I say, you understand me-with a sweetener of thirty Besides, there's a prospect of my whole estate or forty thousand pounds, to pay off mortgages? for I dare swear her brother will never have any children.

Jenk. I should be concerned at that, colonel, when there are two such fortunes to descend to his heirs, as yours and Sir John Flowerdale's.

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Col. O. Why look you, Master Jenkins, Sir John Flowerdale is an honest gentleman; our families are nearly related; we have been neighbours time out of mind; and if he and I have an odd dispute now and then, it is not for want of a cordial esteem at bottom. He is going to marry his daughter to my son; she is a beautiful girl, an elegant girl, a sensible girl, a worthy girl, and a word in your ear-damn me if I an't very sorry

for her.

Jenk. Sorry, colonel?

Col. O. Ay-between ourselves, Master Jen

Jenk. How do you mean?

Jenk. Well but, good colonel, what do you say o my worthy and honourable patron here, Sirkins, my son wont do. John Flowerdale? He has an estate of eight thousand pounds a year as well paid rents as any Col. O. I tell you, Master Jenkins, he wont do in the kingdom, and but one only daughter to en--he is not the thing, a prig-At sixteen years joy it; and yet he is willing, you see, to give this daughter to your son.

Diana. Pray, Mr. Jenkins, how does Miss Clarissa and our university friend, Mr. Lionel ? That is the only grave young man I ever liked, and the only handsome one I ever was acquainted with

that did not make love to me.

Col. O. Ay, Master Jenkins, who is this Lionel? they say he is a damned, witty, knowing fellow; and, egad, I think him well enough for one brought up in a college.

old, or thereabouts, he was a bold, sprightly boy, as you should see in a thousand; could drink his pint of port, or his bottle of claret-now he mixes all his wine with water.

Jenk. Oh! if that be his only fault, colonel, he will ne'er make the worse husband, I'll answer

for it.

Col. O. You know my wife is a woman of quality-I was prevailed upon to send him to be brought up by her brother, Lord Jessamy, who had no children of his own, and promised to leave Jenk. His father was a general officer, a parti-him an estate-he has got the estate indeed, but cular friend of Sir John's, who, like many more brave men, that live and die in defending their country, left little more than honour behind him. Sir John sent this young man, at his own expense, to Oxford. During the vacation he is come to pay us a visit, and Sir John intends that he shall shortly take orders for a very considerable bene-cellent education. fice in the gift of the family, the present incumbent of which is an aged man.

Diana. The last time I was at your house, he was teaching Miss Clarissa mathematics and philosophy. Lord, what a strange brain I have! If I was to sit down to distract myself with such

studies

Col. O. Go, hussy, let some of your brother's rascals inform their master he has been long enough at his toilet; here is a message from Sir John Flowerdale-You a brain for mathematics indeed! We shall have women wanting to head our regiments to-morrow or next day.

Diana. Well, papa, and suppose we did. I befieve, in a battle of the sexes, you men would hardly get the better of us.

To rob them of strength, when wise nature thought fit,

By women to still do her duty,

the fellow has taken his lordship's name for it. Now, Master Jenkins, I would be glad to know how the name of Jessamy is better than that of Oldboy.

hands that his lordship has given your son an exJenk. Well but, colonel, it is allowed on all

Col. O. Pshaw! he sent him to the university, abroad, and at the university myself, and never a and to travel forsooth; but what of that? I was rush the better for either. I quarrelled with his lordship about six years before his death, and so had not an opportunity of seeing how the youth went on; if I had, Master Jenkins, I would no more have suffered him to be made such a monkey of-He has been in my house but three days, and it is all turned topsy turvy by him and his rascally servants-then his chamber is like a perfumer's shop, with wash-balls, paste, and pomatum-and do you know he had the impudence to tell me yesterday, at my own table, that I did not know how to behave myself?

Jenk. Pray, colonel, how does my lady Mary? Col. O. What, my wife? In the old way, Master Jenkins; always complaining; ever something the matter with her head, or her back, or her

egs-but we have had the devil to pay latelyshe and I did not speak to one another for three weeks.

Jenk. How so, Sir?

Col. O. A little affair of jealousy-you must know my gamekeeper's daughter has had a child, and the plaguy baggage takes it into her head to lay it to me-Upon my soul, it is a fine, fat, chubby infant as ever I set my eyes on; I have sent it to nurse; and, between you and me, I believe I shall leave it a fortune.

Jenk. Ah, colonel, you will never give over. Col. O. You know my lady has a pretty vein of poetry; she writ me an heroic epistle upon it, where she calls me her dear, false Damon; so I let her cry a little, promised to do so no more, and now we are as good friends as ever.

Jenk. Well, colonel, I must take my leave; I have delivered my message, and Sir John may expect the pleasure of your company to dinner.

Col. O. Ay, ay, we'll come-pox o' ceremony among friends. But wont you stay and see my son; I have sent to him, and suppose he will be here as soon as his valet-de-chambre will give him leave.

Jenk. There is no occasion, good Sir: present my humble respects, that 's all.

Col. O. Well but, zounds, Jenkins, you must not go till you drink something-let you and I

have a bottle of hock

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Jenk. Well but, colonel, pray excuse me.

To tell you the truth,

In the days of my youth,

As mirth and nature bid,

I lik'd a glass,

And I lov'd a lass,

And I did as younkers did.

But now I am old,

With grief be it told,

I must those freaks forbear;

At sixty-three,

"Twixt you and me,

A man grows worse for wear.

[Exit.

Enter MR. JESSAMY, LADY MARY OLDBOY, and Maid.

Lady M. Shut the door, why don't you shut the door there? Have you a mind I should catch my death? This house is absolutely the cave of olus; one had as good live in the Eddystone, or in a windmill.

Mr. J. I thought they told your ladyship that there was a messenger here from Sir John Flowerdale.

Col. O. Well, Sir, and so there was; but he had not patience to wait upon your curling-irons. Mr. Jenkins was here, Sir John Flowerdale's steward, who has lived in the family these forty

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Flowerdale came but last night from his sister's seat in the west, and is a little out of order. But I suppose he thinks he ought to appear before him with his daughter in one hand, and his rentroll in the other, and cry, Sir, pray do me the favour to accept them.

Lady M. Nay but, Mr. Oldboy, permit me to say

Col. O. He need not give himself so many affected airs; I think it's very well if he gets such a girl for going for; she's one of the handsomest and richest in this country, and more than he deserves.

Mr. J. That's an exceeding fine china jar your ladyship has got in the next room; I saw the fellow of it the other day at Williams's, and will send to my agent to purchase it: it is the true matchless old blue and white. Lady Betty Barebones has a couple that she gave a hundred guineas for, on board an Indiaman; but she reckons them at a hundred and twenty-five, on account of half a dozen plates, four nankeen beakers, and a couple of shaking mandarins, that the customhouse officers took from under her petticoats.

Col. O. Did you ever hear the like of this? He's chattering about old china, while I am talking to him of a fine girl. I tell you what, Mr. Jessamy, since that's the name you choose to be called by, I have a good mind to knock you

down.

Mr. J. Knock me down, colonel! What do you mean? I must tell you, Sir, this is a language to which I have not been accustomed ; and, if you think proper to continue to repeat it, I shall be under the necessity of quitting your house.

Col. O. Quitting my house?

Mr. J. Yes, Sir, incontinently.

Col. O. Why, Sir, am not I your father, Sir, and have I not a right to talk to you as I like? I will, sirrah. But, perhaps, I mayn't be your father, and I hope not.

Lady M. Heavens and earth, Mr. Oldboy'

Col. O. What's the matter, Madam? I mean, Madam, that he might have been changed at nurse, Madam; and I believe he was.

Mr. J. Huh, huh, huh!

Col. O. Do you laugh at me, you saucy jackanapes?

Lady M. Who's there? somebody bring me a chair. Really, Mr. Oldboy, you throw my weakly frame into such repeated convulsions-but I see your aim; you want to lay me in my grave, and you will very soon have that satisfaction.

Col. O. I can't bear the sight of him.

Lady M. Open that window, give me air, or I shall faint.

Mr. J. Hold, hold, let me tie a handkerchief about my neck first. This cursed, sharp, north wind-Antoine, bring down my muff. Col. O. Ay, do, and his great coat.

Enter ANTOINE, with Great Coat and Muff. Lady M. Marg'ret, some hartshorn. My dear Mr. Oldboy, why will you fly out in this way, when you know how it shocks my tender nerves? Col. O. 'Sblood, Madam, it 's enough to make a man mad.

Lady M. Hartshorn! hartshorn!
Enter Maid.

Mr. J. Colonel!
Col. O. Do you hear the puppy?

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A minikin,
Finicking,

French powder-puff!

And now, Sir, I fancy, I've told you enough.

[Exit. Mr. J. What's the matter with the colonel, Madam; does your ladyship know?

Lady M. Heigho! don't be surprised, my dear; it was the same thing with my late dear brother, Lord Jessamy; they never could agree: that good-natured friendly soul, knowing the delicacy of my constitution, has often said, sister Mary, 1 pity you. Not but your father has good qualities; and I assure you I remember him a very fine gentleman himself. When he first paid his addresses to me, he was called agreeable Jack Oldboy, though I married him without the consent of your noble grandfather.

Mr. J. I think he ought to be proud of me; I believe there's many a duke, nay, prince, who would esteem themselves happy in having such a

son

Lady M. Yes, my dear; but your sister was always your father's favourite: he intends to give her a prodigious fortune, and sets his heart upon seeing her a woman of quality.

Mr. J. He should wish to see her look a little like a gentlewoman first. When she was in London last winter, I am told she was taken notice of by a few men. But she wants air, manner

Lady M. And has not a bit of the genius of our family, and I never knew a woman of it but herself without. I have tried her: about three years ago, I set her to translate a little French song: I found she had not even an idea of versification; and she put down love and joy for rhyme -so I gave her over.

Mr. J. Why, indeed, she appears to have more of the Thalestris than the Sappho about her.

Lady M. Well, my dear, I must go and dress myself, though I protest I am fitter for my bed than my coach. And condescend to the colonel a little-Do, my dear, if it be only to oblige your [Exit. Mr. J. Let me consider: I am going to visit a country baronet here, who would fain prevail upon me to marry his daughter: the old gentle

mamma.

man has heard of my parts and understanding Miss, of my figure and address. But suppose should not like her when I see her? Why, positively, then I will not have her? the treaty's at an end, and, sans compliment, we break up the congress. But wont that be cruel, after having suffered her to flatter herself with hopes, and showing myself to her? She's a strange dowdy, I dare believe: however, she brings provision with her for a separate maintenance.-Antoine, appretez la toilet. I am going to spend a cursed day that I perceive already; I wish it was over; dread it as much as a general election. SCENE II-A Study in SIR JOHN FLOWERDALE'S House.

[Erit.

Two Chairs, a Table, Globes, and Mathematical
Instruments.

Enter CLARISSA, followed by JENNY.
Clar. Immortal powers, protect me,
Assist, support, direct me;
Relieve a heart oppress'd:
Ah! why this palpitation?
Cease, busy perturbation,
And let me,
let me rest.

Jenny. My dear lady, what ails you?
Clar. Nothing, Jenny, nothing.

Jenny. Pardon me, Madam, there is something ails you indeed. Lord! what signifies all the grandeur and riches in this world, if they can't procure one content. I am sure it vexes me to the heart, so it does, to see such a dear, sweet, worthy, young lady, as you are, pining yourself to death.

Clar. Jenny, you are a good girl, and I am very much obliged to you for feeling so much on my account; but in a little time I hope I shall be easier.

Jenny. Why now, here to-day, Madam, for sartain you ought to be merry to-day, when there's a fine gentleman coming to court you; but, if you like any one else better, I am sure I wish you had him, with all my soul.

Clar. Suppose, Jenny, I was so unfortunate as to like a man without my father's approbation; would you wish me married to him?

Jenny. I wish you married to any one, Madam, that could make you happy.

Clar. Heigho!

Jenny. Madam! Madam! yonder 's Sir John and Mr. Lionel on the terrace: I believe they are coming up here. Poor dear Mr. Lionel, he does not seem to be in over great spirits either. To be sure, Madam, it's no business of mine; but I believe if the truth was known, there are those in the house who would give more than ever I shall be worth, or any the likes of me, to prevent the marriage of a sartain person that shall be nameless.

Clar. What do you mean? I don't understand you.

Jenny. I hope you are not angry, Madam?
Clar. Ah! Jenny-

Jenny. Lauk! Madam, do you think, when Mr. Lionel's a clergyman, he'll be obliged to cut off his hair? I'm sure it will be a thousand pities, for it is the sweetest colour! and your great pud ding-sleeves, Lord! they'll quite spoil his shape. and the fall of his shoulders. Well. Madam, it I was a lady of large fortune, I'll be hanged if Mr. Lionel should be a parson, if I could help it.

Clar. I am going into my dressing-room-It seems then Mr. Lionel is a great favourite of yours; but pray, Jenny, have a care how you talk in this manner to any one else.

Jenny. Me talk, Madam! I thought you knew me better; and, my dear lady, keep up your spirits. I'm sure I have dressed you to-day as nice as hands and pins can make you.

I'm but a poor servant, 'tis true, Ma'am;
But was I a lady like you, Ma'am ;

In grief would I sit! The dickens a bit;
No, faith, I would search the world through,
Ma'am,

To find what my liking could hit.

Set in case a young man,

In my fancy there ran;

It might anger my friends and relations;

But if I had regard,

It should go very hard,

Or I'd follow my own inclinations.

[Exeunt.

Enter SIR JOHN FLOWERDALE and LIONEL. Sir J. Indeed, Lionel, I will not hear of it. What! to run from us all of a sudden this way. and at such a time too; the eve of my daughter's wedding, as I may call it; when your company must be doubly agreeable, as well as necessary to us?

Lion. Upon my word, Sir, I have been so long from the university, that it is time for me to think of returning. It is true, I have no absolute stu: dies; but really, Sir, I shall be obliged to you, if you will give me leave to go.

Lion. You do my endeavours too much honour, Sir; I have been able to add nothing to Miss Flowerdale's accomplishments, but a little knowledge in matters of small importance to a mind already so well improved.

Sir J. I don't think so; a little knowledge, even in those matters, is necessary for a woman, in whom I am far from considering ignorance as a desirable characteristic: when intelligence is not attended with impertinent affectation, it teaches them to judge with precision, and gives them a degree of solidity necessary for the companion of

a sensible man.

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should think every hour of my life happily emLion. Madam, you give me no trouble; I ployed in your service; and as this is probably the last time I shall have the honour of attending you upon the same occasion—

Sir J. Come, come, my dear Lionel, I have for some time observed a more than ordinary gravity self extremely obliged to you; and shall ever conClar. Upon my word, Mr. Lionel, I think mygrowing upon you, and I am not to learn the reason of it: I know, to minds serious, and well in-sider the enjoyment of your friendshipclined, like yours, the sacred functions you are about to embrace

Lion. Dear Sir, your goodness to me, of every kind, is so great, so unmerited! Your condescension, your friendly attentions-in short, Sir, I want words to express my sense of obligations

Sir J. Fy, fy, no more of them. By my last letters, I find that my old friend, the rector, still continues in good health, considering his advanced years. You may imagine I am far from desiring the death of so worthy and pious a man; yet must own, at this time, I could wish you were in orders, as you might then perform the ceremony of my daughter's marriage; which would give me a secret satisfaction.

I

Lion. No doubt, Sir, any office in my power, that could be instrumental to the happiness of any in your family, I should perform with plea

sure.

Sir J. Why really, Lionel, from the character of her intended husband, I have no room to doubt but this match will make Clarissa perfectly happy: to be sure, the alliance is the most eligible for both families.

Lion. If the gentleman is sensible of his happiness in the alliance, Sir.

Sir J. The fondness of a father is always suspected of partiality: yet I believe I may venture to say, that few young women will be found more unexceptionable than my daughter: her person is agreeable, her temper sweet, her understanding good; and with the obligations she has to your instruction

VOL. II....B

Lion. My friendship, Madam, can be of little moment to you; but if the most perfect adoration, should never be witness of it-if these, Madam, if the warmest wishes for your felicity, though I brance, a man once honoured with a share of your can have any merit to continue, in your remem

esteem

Clar. Hold, Sir-I think I hear somebody. Lion. If you please, Madam, we will resume our studies-Have you looked at the book I left you yesterday?

Clar. Really, Sir, I have been so much disturbed in my thoughts for these two or three days past, that I have not been able to look at any thing.

Lion. I am sorry to hear that, Madam; I hope there was nothing particular to disturb you. The care Sir John takes to dispose of your hand in a manner suitable to your birth and fortune

Clar. I don't know, Sir;-I own I am disturbed; I own I am uneasy; there is something weighs upon my heart, which I would fain disclose. Lion. Upon your heart, Madam! did you say your heart?

Clar. I did, Sir,-I

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Lion. Madam!

Clar. Pray speak to me, Sir.-You tremble.Tell me the cause of this sudden change.-How are you?-Where's your disorder? Lion. Oh fortune! fortune!

You ask me in vain,

Of what ills I complain,

Where harbours the torment I find;
In my head, in my heart,
It invades ev'ry part,

And subdues both my body and mind.

Each effort I try,
Ev'ry medicine apply,

The pangs of my soul to appease :
But doom'd to endure,

What I mean for a cure,

Turns poison, and feeds the disease. [Exit.
Enter DIANA.

Diana. My dear Clarissa-I'm glad I have found you alone.-For Heaven's sake, don't let any one break in upon us ;-and give me leave to sit down with you a little :-I am in such a tremor, such a panic

Clar. Mercy on us, what has happened? Diana. You may remember I told you, that when I was last winter in London, I was followed by an odious fellow, one Harman; I can't say but the wretch pleased me, though he is but a younger brother, and not worth sixpence: and-in short, when I was leaving town, I promised to correspond with him.

Clar. Do you think that was prudent? Diana. Madness! But this is not the worst ; for what do you think, the creature had the assurance to write to me about three weeks ago, desiring permission to come down and spend the summer at my father's.

Clar. At your father's!

Diana. Ay, who never saw him, knows nothing of him, and would as soon consent to my marrying a horse-jockey. He told me a long story of some tale he intended to invent to make my father receive him as an indifferent person; and some gentleman in London, he said, would procure him a letter that should give it a face; and he longed to see me so, he said, he could not live without it; and if he could be permitted but to spend a week with me

Clar. Well, and what answer did you make? Diana. Oh! abused him, and refused to listen to any such thing-But-I vow I tremble while I tell it to you-just before we left our house, the impudent monster arrived there, attended by a couple of servants, and is now actually coming here with my father.

Clar. Upon my word this is a dreadful thing. Diana. Dreadful, my dear!--I happened to be at the window as he came into the court, and I declare I had like to have fainted away.

Clar. Well, Diana, with regard to your affair -I think you must find some method of immediately informing this gentleman that you consider the outrage he has committed against you in the most heinous light, and insist upon his going away directly.

Diana. Why, I believe that will be the best way--but then he'll be begging my pardon, and asking to stay.

Clar. Why then you must tell him positively you wont consent to it; and if he persist in so ex

travagant a design, tell him you'll never see him again as long as you live.

Diana. Must I tell him so?

Ah! pr'ythee spare me dearest creature!
How can you prompt me to so much ill nature?
Kneeling before me,

Should I hear him implore me;
Could I accuse him,
Could I refuse him

The boon he should ask?
Let not a lover the cruel task!
No, believe me, my dear,
Was he now standing here,
In spite of my frights and alarms,
I might rate him, might scold him-
But should still strive to hold him-
And sink at last into his arms.

[Exit.

Clar. How easy to direct the conduct of others, how hard to regulate our own! I can give my friend advice, while I am conscious of the same indiscretions in myself. Yet is it criminal to know the most worthy, most amiable man in the world, and not to be insensible to his merit? But my father, the kindest, best of fathers, will he approve the choice I have made? Nay, has he not made another choice for me? And, after all, how can I be sure that the man I love, loves me again? He never told me so; but his looks, his actions, his present anxiety, sufficiently declare what his delicacy, his generosity, will not suffer him to utter.

Ye gloomy thoughts, ye fears perverse,
Like sullen vapours all disperse,

And scatter in the wind;
Delusive phantoms, brood of night,
No more my sickly fancy fright,

No more my reason blind;
'Tis done; I feel my soul releas'd;
The visions fly, the mists are chas'd,
Nor leave a cloud behind.

[Exit

SCENE III-A side view of SIR JOHN
FLOWERDALE's House.

Enter HARMAN with COLONEL OLDBOY. Col. O. Well, and how does my old friend Dick Rantum do? I have not seen him these twelve years he was an honest worthy fellow as ever breathed; I remember he kept a girl in London, and was cursedly plagued by his wife's relations. Har. Sir Richard was always a man of spirit, colonel.

Col. O. But as to this business of yours, which he tells me of in his letter-I don't see much in it -An affair with a citizen's daughter-pinked her brother in a duel-Is the fellow likely to die?

Har. Why, Sir, we hope not; but as the matter is dubious, and will probably make some noise, I thought it was better to be for a little time out of the way; when hearing my case, Sir Richard Rantum mentioned you; he said he was sure you would permit me to remain at your house for a few days, and offered me a recommendation.

Col. O. And there's likely to be a brat in the case-And the girl's friends are in business-I'll tell you what will be the consequence then -They will be for going to law with you for a maintenance-but no matter, I'll take the affair in hand for you-make me your solicitor; and, if you are obliged to pay for a single spoonful of pap, I'll be

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