Belvil. Ha! ha! ha! most absurd. Did not Clementina Falconbridge, the romantic Clementina Falconbridge, fancy Tommy Potts? and Rosabella Sweetlips sacrifice her mellifluous appellative to Jack Deady? Matilda her cousin married a Gubbins, and her sister Amelia a Clutterbuck

Mr. H. Potts is tolerable, Deady is sufferable, Gubbins is bearable, and Clutterbuck is endurable, but Ho

Belvil. Hush, Jack, don't betray yourself. But you are really ashamed of the family name?

Mr. H. Aye, and of my father that begot me, and my father's father, and all their forefathers that have borne it since the conquest.

Belvil. But how do you know the women are so squeamish ?

Mr. H. I have tried them. I tell you there is neither maiden of sixteen nor widow of sixty but would turn up their noses at it. I have been refused by nineteen virgins, twenty-nine relicts, and two old maids.

Belvil. That was hard indeed, Jack.

Mr. H. Parsons have stuck at publishing the banns, because they averred it was a heathenish name; parents have lingered their consent, because they suspected it was a fictitious name;

and rivals have declined my challenges, because they pretended it was an ungentlemanly name.

Belvil. Ha, ha, ha, but what course do you mean to pursue?

Mr. H. To engage the affections of some generous girl, who will be content to take me as Mr. H.

Belvil. Mr. H.?

Mr. H. Yes, that is the name I go by here; you know one likes to be as near the truth as possible.

Belvil. Certainly. But what then? to get her to consent

Mr. H. To accompany me to the altar without a name- -in short to suspend her curiosity (that is all) till the moment the priest shall pronounce the irrevocable charm, which makes two names

one.

Belvil. And that namebe pleased, ha, Jack?

-and then she must

Mr. H. Exactly such a girl it has been my fortune to meet with, heark'e (whispers)

(musing)

yet hang it, 'tis cruel to betray her confidence.

Belvil. But the family name, Jack.

Mr. H. As you say, the family name must be perpetuated.

Belvil. Though it be but a homely one.

Mr. H. True, but come, I will shew you the house where dwells this credulous melting fair. Belvil. Ha, ha, my old friend dwindled down to one letter.

[Exeunt.

SCENE.-An Apartment in MELESINDA's House.

MELESINDA sola, as if musing.

Melesinda. H. H. H. Sure it must be something precious by its being concealed. It can't be Homer, that is a Heathen's name; nor Horatio, that is no surname; what if it be Hamlet? the Lord Hamlet-pretty, and I his poor distracted Ophelia! No, 'tis none of these; 'tis Harcourt or Hargrave, or some such sounding name, or Howard, high born Howard, that would do; may be it is Harley, methinks my H. resembles Harley, the feeling Harley. But I hear him, and from his own lips I will once for ever be resolved.

Enter MR. H.

Mr. H. My dear Melesinda.

Melesinda. My dear H. that is all you give me

power to swear allegiance to,-to be enamoured of inarticulate sounds, and call with sighs upon an empty letter. But I will know.

Mr. H. My dear Melesinda, press me no more for the disclosure of that, which in the face of day so soon must be revealed. Call it whim, humour, caprice, in me. Suppose I have sworn an oath, never, till the ceremony of our marriage is over, to disclose my true name.

Melesinda. Oh! H. H. H. I cherish here a fire of restless curiosity which consumes me. 'Tis appetite, passion, call it whim, caprice, in me. Suppose I have sworn I must and will know it this very night.

Mr. H. Ungenerous Melesinda! I implore you to give me this one proof of your confidence. The holy vow once past, your H. shall not have a secret to withhold.

Melesinda. My H. has overcome: his Melesinda shall pine away and die, before she dare express a saucy inclination; but what shall I call you till we are married?

Mr. H. Call me? call me any thing, call me Love, Love! aye Love, Love will do very well.

Melesinda. How many syllables is it, Love?

Mr. H. How many? ud, that is coming to the question with a vengeance.. One, two, three, four,-what does it signify how many syllables?

Melesinda. How many syllables, Love?

Mr. H. My Melesinda's mind, I had hoped, was superior to this childish curiosity.

Melesinda. How many letters are there in it? [Exit MR. H. followed by MELESINDA repeating the question.

SCENE. A Room in the Inn.

(Two Waiters disputing.)

1st Waiter. Sir Harbottle Hammond, you may depend upon it.

2d Waiter. Sir Harry Hardcastle, I tell you. 1st Waiter. The Hammonds of Huntingdonshire.

2d Waiter. The Hardcastles of Hertfordshire. 1st Waiter. The Hammonds.

2d Waiter. Don't tell me: does not Hardcastle begin with an H?

1st Waiter. So does Hammond for that matter. 2d Waiter. Faith, so it does if you go to spell it. I did not think of that. I begin to be of your opinion; he is certainly a Hammond.