Wild. Poh, don't be fo childish, but give a rational anfwer.

. Maria. Why, no, then; no-I tell you no, no, no.

∙no, no, no, no, no

Wild. Come, come, my little giddy fifter, you must not be fo flighty; behave fedately, and don't be a girl always.

Maria. Why, don't I tell you I have not seen him— but I am to see him this very day.

Beau. To fee him this day, Maria!

Maria. Ha, ha!-look there, brother; he is beginning again-But don't fright yourself, and I'll tell you all about it-My papa comes to me this morning-by the by, he makes a fright of himself with this strange drefs-Why does not he drefs as other gentlemen do,

brother?

Wild. He dreffes like his brother fox-hunters in Wiltfhire.

Maria. But when he comes to town, I wish he would do as other gentlemen do here I am almost asham'd of him-But he comes to me this morning. "Hoic! hoic! our Moll- -Where is the fly pufs"Tally ho!".

"Come

Did you want me, papa ?. "hither, Moll, I'll gee you a husband, my girl; one that "has mettle enow-he'll take cover, I warrant un "Blood to the bone."

Beau. There now, Wilding, did not I tell you this? Wild. Where are you to fee the young citizen? Maria. Why, papa will be at a home in an hour, and then he intends to drag me into the city with him, and there the sweet creature is to be introduced to meThe old gentleman his father is delighted with me; but I hate him, an old ugly thing.

Wild. Give us a description of him; I want to know him.

Maria. Why, he looks like the picture of Avarice, fitting with pleafure upon a bag of money, and trembling for fear any body fhould come and take it awayHe has got fquare-toed fhoes, and little tiny buckles ; a brown coat, with small round brass buttons, that looks as if it was new in my great-grandmother's time, and his face all fhrivell'd and pinch'd with care; and he shakes

his head like a mandarine upon a chimney-piece. "Ay, ay, Sir Jafper, you are right"-and then he grius at me "I profefs fhe is a very pretty bale of goods. “Ay, ay, and my fon Bob is a very fenfible lad—ay, 66 ay, and I will underwrite their happiness for one and a half per cent."

66

Wild. Thank you, my dear girl; thank you for this account of my relations.

Beau. Deftruction to my hopes! Surely, my dear little angel, if you have any regard for me

Maria. There, there, there he is frighten'd again.

[Sings, Dearest creature, &c.] Wild. Pha! give over these airs-liften to me, and I'll inftruct you how to manage them all.

Maria, Oh! my dear brother, you are very good— but don't mistake yourfelf; though juft come from a boarding-school, give me leave to manage for myself— There is in this cafe a man I like, and a man I don't like -It is not you I like, (to Beaufort)-no-no-I hate -But let this little head alone; I know what to I fhall know how to prefer one, and get rid of

you do.

the other.

Beau. What will you do, Maria?

Maria. Ha, ha, I can't help laughing at you. [Sings. Do not grieve me,

Oh! relieve me, &c.

Wild. Come, come, be ferious, Mifs Pert, and I'll inftruct you what to do The old cit, you fay, admires you for your understanding; and his fon would not marry you, unless he found you a girl of fenfe and spirit.

Maria. Even fo-this is the character of your giddy fifter.

Wild. Why then I'll tell you-You fhall make him hate you for a fool, and fo let the refufal come from himfelf.

Maria. But how-how, my dear brother? Tell me how?

Wild. Why you have seen a play with me, where a man pretends to be a downright country oaf, in order to rule a wife and have a wife.

Maria, Very well-what then? what then?-Oh!I have it-I understand you-say no more-'tis charm.

ing; I like it of all things; I'll do it, I will; and I will fo plague him, that he fhan't know what to make of me He fhall be a very toad-eater to me; the four, the fweet, the bitter, he fhall fwallow all, and all shall work upon him alike for my diverfion. Say nothing of it-it's all among ourselves; but I won't be cruel. I hate ill-nature, and then who knows but I may like him? Beau. My dear Maria, don't talk of liking him. Maria. Oh! now you are beginning again.

[Sings, Voi Amanti, &c. and exit.] Beau. 'Sdeath, Wilding, I fhall never be your brother-in-law at this rate.

Wild. Pfha, follow me; don't be apprehenfive-I'H give her farther inftructions, and fhe will execute them I warrant you; the old fellow's daughter fhall be mine, and the fon may go fhift for himself elsewhere.

Scene, Old Philpot's House.

Enter Old Philpot, Dapper, and Quilldrive. Old Phil. Quilldrive, have thofe dollars been fent to the bank, as I order'd?

Quill. They have, Sir.

Old Phil. Very well! Mr Dapper, I am not fond of writing any thing of late; but at your request

Dap. You know I would not offer you a bad policy. Old Phil. I believe it-Well, ftep with me to my clofet, and I will look at your policy- -How much do you want upon it?

Dap. Three thousand; you had better take the whole; there are very good names upon it.

Old Phil. Well, well, ftep with me, and I'll talk to you-Quilldrive, ftep with thofe bills for acceptanceThis way, Mr Dapper, this way. [Exeunt.

Quilldrive folus.

Quill. A miferly old rafeal! digging, digging money out of the very hearts of mankind; conftantly, conftantly fcraping together, and yet trembling with anxiety for fear of coming to want. A canting old hypocrite! and yet under his veil of fanctity he has a liquorish tooth left-running to the other end of the town flily every evening; and there he has his folitary pleasures in. -holes and corners.

George

George Philpot, peeping in.

G. Phil. Hift, hift! Quilldrive!
Quill. Ha, Master George!

G. Phil. Is Square-toes at home?
Quill. He is.

G. Phil. Has he afk'd for me?
Quill. He has.

G. Phil. [Walks in on tip-toe.] Does he know I did not ly at home?

Quill. No; I funk that upon him.

G. Phil. Well done; I'll give you a choice gelding to carry you to Dulwich of a Sunday-Damnation!up all night-ftripped of nine hundred pounds-pretty well for one night!-Piqued, repiqued, flammed, and capotted every deal!-Old Dry-beard fhall pay all-Is forty-feven good? no-fifty good? no, no, no-to the end of the chapter-Cruel luck!-Damn me, 'tis life tho'-this is life-'sdeath! I hear him coming (runs off and peeps)-no, all's fafe—I muft not be caught in these cloaths, Quilldrive

Quill. How came you did not leave them at Madam Corinna's, as you generally do?

G. Phil. I was afraid of being too late for old Squaretoes, and fo I whipt into a hackney-coach, and drove with the windows up, as if I was afraid of a bum-bailey. -Pretty cloaths, an't they?

Quill. Ah! Sir

G. Phil. Reach me one of my mechanic city-frocks→→→ no-stay-'tis in the next room, an't it?

Quill. Yes, Sir.

G. Phil. I'll run and slip it on in a twinkle.' [Exit. Quilldrive felus.

Quill. Mercy on us! what a life does he lead? Old Cojer within here will fcrape together for him, and the moment young Mafter comes to poffeffion, " Ill got, ill gone," I warrant me: a hard card I have to play between 'em both - drudging for the old man, and pimping for the young one he father is a refervoir of riches, and the fon is a fountain to play it all away in vanity and folly!

Re-enter George Philpot.

G. Phil. Now I'm equipped for the city-Damn the

city-I wish the Papifhes would fet fire to it again-I hate to be beating the hoof here among them-Here comes father-no;-'tis Dapper.-Quilldrive, I'll give. you the gelding.

Quill. Thank you, Sir.

Enter Dapper.

Dap. Why you look like a devil, George.

[Exit.

G. Phil. Yes; I have been up all night, loft all my money, and I am afraid I must smash for it.

Dap. Smash for it-what have I let you into the fecret for? Have not I advised you to trade upon your own account-and you feel the fweets of it.-How much do

you owe in the city?

G. Phil. At least twenty thousand.

Dap. Poh, that's nothing! Bring it up to fifty or fixty thousand, and then give 'em a good crash at once-I have infured the fhip for you.

G. Phil. Have you?

Dap. The policy's full; I have juft touch'd your father for the last three thoufand.

G. Phil. Excellent! are the goods re-landed?

Dap. Every bale-I have had them up to town, and fold them all to a packer for

you.

G. Phil. Bravo! and the fhip is loaded with rubbish, I fuppofe?

Dap. Yes; and is now proceeding on the voyage.

G. Phil. Very well-and to-morrow, or next day, we fhall hear of her being loft upon the Goodwin, or funk between the Needles.

Dap. Certainly.

G. Phil. Admirable! and then we fhall come upon the underwriters.

Dap. Directly.

G. Phil. My dear Dapper!

[Embraces him.

Dap. Yes, I do a dozen every year. How do you think I can live as I do, otherwise?

G. Phil. Very true; fhall you be at the club after 'Change?

Dap. Without fail.

G. Phil. That's right; it will be a full meeting: we shall have Nat Pigtail the dry-falter there, and Bob Rep