Lucy. But why not, Miss? Though he is a little fantastical, loves to hear himself talk, and is somewhat self-sufficient, you must consider he is young, has been abroad, and keeps good company. The trade will soon be at an end, if young ladies and gentlemen grow overnice and exceptious.

Har. But if I can find one without these faults, I may surely please myself.

Lucy. Without these faults! and is he young, Miss!

Har. He is sensible, modest, polite, affable, and generous; and charms from the natural impulses of his own heart, as much as others disgust by their senseless airs and insolent affectation.

Lucy. Upon my word!-But why have you kept this a secret so long? Your guardian is kind to you beyond conception.-What difficulties can you have to overcome?

Har. Why, the difficulty of declaring my sentiments.

Lucy. Leave that to me, Miss.-But your spark, with all his accomplishments, must have very little penetration not to have discovered his good fortune in your eyes.

Har. I take care that my eyes don't tell too much; and he has too much delicacy to interpret looks to his advantage. Besides, he would certainly disapprove my passion; and if I should ever make the declaration, and meet with a denial, I should absolutely die with shame.

Lucy. I'll insure your life for a silver thimble. But what can possibly hinder your coming together?

Har. His excess of merit.

Lucy. His excess of a fiddlestick!-But come, I'll put you in the way:-you shall trust me with the secret-I'll intrust it again to half a dozen friends; they shall intrust it to half a dozen more; by which means it will travel half the world over in a week's time: the gentleman will certainly hear of it, and then if he is not at your feet in the fetching of a sigh, I'll give up all my perquisites at your wedding.--What is his name, Miss?

Har. I cannot tell you his name indeed, I cannot: I am afraid of being thought too singular. But why should I be ashamed of my passion? Is the impression which a virtuous character makes upon our hearts such a weakness that it may not be excused?

Lucy. By my faith, Miss, I can't understand you: you are afraid of being thought singular, and you really are so.-I would sooner renounce all the passions in the universe, than have one in my bosom beating and fluttering itself to pieces.

Re-enter HEARTLY.

Heart. Leave us, Lucy. Lucy. There's something going forward'tis very hard I can't be of the party.

[Aside, exit. Heart. She certainly thinks, from the character of the young man, that I shall disapprove of her choice. Aside. Hur. What can I possibly say to him? I am as much ashamed to make the declaration, as he would be to understand it. [Aside. Heart. Don't imagine that I would know more of your thoughts than you desire I should; but the tender care which I have ever shown, and the sincere friendship which I

right to inquire into every thing that concerns you. Some friends have spoken to me in par ticular.-But that is not all I have lately found you thoughtful, absent, and disturbed. -Be plain with me-has not somebody been happy enough to please you?

Har. I cannot deny it, Sir-yes-somebody indeed has pleased me.-But I must entreat you not to give credit to any idle stories, or inquire further into the particulars of my inclination; for I cannot possibly have resolution enough to say more to you.

Heart, But have you made a choice, my dear?

Har. I have, in my own mind, Sir, and 'tis impossible to make a better ;-reason, honour, every thing must approve it.

Heart. And how long have you conceived this passion?

Har. Ever since I left the country to live with you. [Sighs. Heart. I see your confusion, and will relieve you from it immediately-I am informed of the whole

Har. Sir!

Heart. Don't be uneasy, for I can with pleasure assure you that your passion is returned with equal tenderness.

Har. If you are not deceived-I cannot be more happy.

Heart. I think I am not deceived;-but after the declaration you have made, and the assurances which I lrave given you, why will you conceal it any longer? Have I not deserved a little more confidence from you?,

Har. You have indeed deserved it, and should certainly have it, were I not well assured that you would oppose my inclinations.

Heart. I oppose 'em! Am I then so unkind to you, my dear Harriot?-Can you in the least doubt of my affection for you!—I promise you that I have no will but yours.

Har. Since you desire it then, I will endeavour to explain myself.

Heart. I am all attention-speak. Har. And if I do, I feel I shall never be able to speak to you again,

Heart. I see your delicacy is hurt: but let me entreat you once more to confide in me.Tell me his name, and the next moment I will go to him, and assure him that my consent shall confirm both your happiness.

Har. You will easily find him. And when you have, pray tell him how improper it is for a young woman to speak first-persuade him to spare my blushes, and to release me from so terrible a situation.-I shall leave him with you-and hope that this declaration will make it impossible for you to mistake me any longer. [Going.

Enter YOUNG CLACKIT.-HARRIOT remains on the Stage.'

Heart. Are we not alone? What can this mean? [Aside. Young C. Apropos, faith! Here they are together.

Heart. I did not see him; but now the riddle's explained. [Aside. [Aside.

Har. What can he want now ?-This is the most spiteful interruption.

Young C. By your leave, Mr. Heartly[Crosses him to go to HARRIOT.] Have I caught you at last, my divine Harriot? Well, Mr. Heartly, sans façon-But what's the matter?

Things look a little gloomy here;—one mut

ters to himself and gives me no answer, and the other turns her head and winks at ine. How the devil am I to interpret all this? Har. I wink at you, Sir?-Did I, Sir? Young C. Yes, you, my angel-but mumMr. Heartly, for heaven's sake, what is all this? Speak, I conjure you, is it life or death with me?

Har. What a dreadful situation I am in! Young C. Hope for the best-I'll bring matters about, I warrant you.

Heart. Miss Harriot's will is a law to me; and for you, Sir-the friendship which I have ever professed for your uncle is too sincere not to exert some of it upon this occasion.

Young C. And you are very sure now that you hate me? [Conceitedly. Har. Oh! most cordially. Young C. Poor young lady! I do pity you from my soul.

Har. Then why don't you leave me?
Young C." She never told her love,

But let concealment, like a worm i'th' bud,
Feed on her damask cheek."

Heart. Sir, not to flatter you, I must declare, that it is from a knowledge of your friends and family, that I have hopes of seeing you and this young lady happy. I will go directly to your uncle, and assure him that every thing goes on to our wishes.[Going.

Har. Mr. Heartly-pray, Sir!

Heart. Poor Harriot, I see your distress, and am sorry for it; but it must be got over, and the sooner the better.-Mr. Clackit, my dear, will be glad of an opportunity to entertain you for the little time that I shall be absent. Poor Miss Harriot! [Smiles; Exit. Young C. Allez, allez, monsieur!-I'll answer for that.-Well, Ma'am, 1 think every thing succeeds to our wishes.-Be sincere, my adorable-Don't you think yourself a very happy young lady?"

Har. I shall be most particularly obliged to you, Sir, if you would inform me what is the meaning of all this.

Young C. Inform you, Miss?--The matter, I believe, is pretty clear:-our friends have understanding-we have affections--and a marriage follows of course.

Har. Marriage, Sir! Pray what relation or particular connexion is there between you and me, Sir?

Young C. I may be deceived, faith; but upon my honour, I always supposed that there was a little smattering of inclination between

us.

Har. And have you spoke to my guardian upon this supposition, Sir?

Young C. "And are you angry at it?-I believe not.

Har. Indeed, Sir, this behaviour of yours is most extraordinary.

Young C. Upon my soul, this is very droll, -What! has not your guardian been here this moment, and expressed all imaginable pleasure at our intended union?

Har. He is in an error, Sir:-and had I not been too much astonished at your behaviour, I had undeceived him long before now.

Young C. [Hums a tune.] But pray, Miss, what can be your intention in raising all this confusion in the family, and opposing your own inclinations?

Har. Opposing my own inclinations, Sir? Young C. Ay, opposing your own inclinations, Madam.

Har. Be assured, Sir, I never in my life had the least thought about you.

yourself airs, that if you once suffer me to leave this house in a pet-Do you mind me?-not all your sighing, whining, fits, vapours, and hysterics, shall ever move me to take the least compassion on you-Coute qu'il coute. Re-enter HEARTLY and Sir CHARLES CLACKIT.

Sir C. There they are, the pretty doves! That is the age, neighbour Heartly, for happiness and pleasure.

Heart. I am willing, you see, to lose no time, which may convince you, Sir Charles, how proud I am of this alliance in our families.

Sir C. 'Gad, I will send for the fiddles, and take a dance myself, and a fig for the gout and rheumatism.-But hold, hold-the lovers, methinks, are a little out of humour with each other. What is the matter, Jack? Not pouting sure before your time?

Young C. A trifle, Sir-the lady will tell you. [Hums a tune. Heart. You seem to be troubled, Harriot!— What can this mean?

Har. You have been in an error, Sir, about me;-I did not undeceive you, because I could not imagine that the consequences could have been so serious and so sudden;-but I am now forced to tell you that you have misunderstood me that you have distressed me. Heart. How, my dear?

Sir C. What do you say, Miss?

Young C. Mademoiselle is pleased to be out of humour; but I can't blame her; for, upon my honour, I think a little coquetry becomes her.

Sir C. Ay, ay, ay-oh, oh!-Is that all? These little squalls seldom overset the lover's boat, but drive it the faster to port-ay, ay, ay

Young C. Talk to her a little, Mr. Heartly. She is a fine lady, and has many virtues; but she does not know the world.

Heart. For heaven's sake, Miss Harriot, explain this riddle to me.

Har. I cannot, Sir.-I have discovered the weakness of my heart-I have discovered it to you, Sir;-but your unkind interpretations and reproachful looks convince me that I have already said too much. [Exit; HEARTLY muses.

Sir C. Well, but harkye, nephew-this is going a little too far-What have you done

to her?

Sir C. I'll tell you what, Jack-There is a certain kind of impudence about you, that I don't approve of.

Young C. But what can the lady object to? I have offered to marry her; is not that a proof sufficient that I like her? A young fellow must have some affection that will go such lengths to indulge it. Ha, ha!

Sir C. Why really, friend Heartly, I don't see how a young man can well do more, or a lady desire more. -What say you, neigh

bour?

SO

Heart. Upon my word, I am puzzled about it-my thoughts upon the matter are various and so confused.-Every thing I see and hear is so contradictory-is soShe certainly cannot like any body else!

Young C. No, no, I'll answer for that. Heart. Or she may be fearful then that your passion for her is not sincere; or, like other young men of the times, you may grow careless upon marriage, and neglect her.

Young C. Ha! 'Egad, you have hit it; nothing but a little natural, delicate sensibility [Hums a tune.

Heart. If so, perhaps the violence of her reproaches may proceed from the lukewarmness of your professions.

Young C. Je vous demande pardon-I have sworn to her, a hundred and a hundred times, that she should be the happiest of her sex:But there is nothing surprising in all this; it is the misery of an over-fond heart, to be always doubtful of its happiness.

Heart. And if she marries thee, I fear that she'll be kept in a state of doubt as long as she lives. [Half asi.e.

Lucy. She desires that when she has recovered herself, she may talk with you alone, Sir. [TO HEARTLY. Heart. I shall with pleasure attend her. [Exit Lucy. Sir C. I would give, old as I am, a leg or an arm, to be beloved by that sweet creature as you are, Jack!

Young C. And throw your gout and rheumatism into the bargain, uncle ?-Ha, ha! Divin Bacchus. La, la, la, &c. [Sings. Sir C. I wonder what the devil is come to the young fellows of this age, neighbour Heartly? Why, a fine woman has no effect upon 'em.-Is there no method to make 'em less fond of themselves, and more mindful of the ladies?

Heart. Look ye, Mr. Clackit, if Miss Harriot's affections declare for you, she must not be treated with neglect or disdain-Nor could I bear it, Sir.-Any man must be proud of her partiality to him; and he must be fashionably insensible indeed, who would not make it his darling care to defend from every inquietude the most delicate and tender of her sex.

Young C. Would you have me say the same thing over and over again?-I can't do it positively-It is my turn to be piqued now. Sir C. Damn your conceit, Jack; I can bear it no longer.

Heart. I am very sorry to find that any young lady, so near and dear to me, should bestow her heart where there is so little prospect of its being valued as it ought.- -However, I shall not oppose my authority to her inclinations; and so-Who waits there?

Enter a SERVANT.

Let the young lady know that I shall attend her commands in the library. [Exit SERVANT.] Will you excuse me, gentlemen?

Sir C. Ay, ay-we'll leave you to yourselves; and pray convince her that I and my nephew are most sincerely her very humble

servants.

Young C. O yes, you may depend upon me. Heart. A very slender dependence truly. [Aside; exit.

Young C. We'll be with you again to know what your tête-à-tête produces, and in the meantime I am hers and yours- -Adieu. Come, uncle-Fal, lal, la, la!

Sir C. I could knock him down with pleasure. [Aside; Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I-A Library.

HEARTLY and a SERVANT discovered. Heart. Tell Miss Harriot that I am here.If she is indisposed, I will wait upon her in her own room. [Exit SERVANT.] However mysterious her conduct appears to me, yet still it is to be deciphered This young gentleman has certainly touched her-There are some objections to him, and among so many young men of fashion that fall in her way, she certainly might have made a better choice: she has an understanding to be sensible of this; and, if I am not mistaken, it is a struggle between her reason and her passion that occasions all this confusion.—But here she is.

Enter HARRIOT.

Har. I hope you are not angry, Sir, that I left you so abruptly, without making any apology?

Heart. I am angry that you think an apology necessary. The matter we were upon was of such a delicate nature, that I was more pleased with your confusion than I should have been with your excuses. You'll pardon me, my dear.

Har. I have reflected that the person for whom I have conceived a most tender regard, may, from the wisest motives, doubt of my passion; and therefore I would endeavour to answer all his objections, and convince him how deserving he is of my highest esteem.

Heart. I have not yet apprehended what kind of dispute could arise between you and Mr. Clackit:-but I would advise you both to come to a reconciliation as soon as possible.

Har. He still continues in his error, and 1 cannot undeceive him. [Aside.