Serj. At this rate the jade will half unpeople the world: but what is all this to sir Luke? to him, not one of your cases apply.

Char. Every one-Sir Luke has not a first principle in his whole composition; not only his pleasures, but even his passions are prompted by others; and he is as much directed to the objects of his love and his hatred, as in his eating, drinking, and dressing. Nay, though he is active, and eternally busy, yet his own private affairs are neglected; and he would not scruple to break an appointment that was to determine a considerable part of his property, in order to exchange a couple of houndsfor a lord, or to buy a pad-nag for a lady. In a word-but he's at hand, and will explain himself best; I hear his stump on the stairs.

Serj. I hope you will preserve a little decency before your lover at least.

Char. Lover! ha, ha, ha!

Enter Sir Luke Limp.

Sir Luke. Mr. Serjeant, your slave-Ah! are you there my little O Lord! Miss, let me tell you something for fear of forgetting-Do you know that you are new christened, and have had me for a gossip?

Char. Christened! I don't understand you.

Sir Luke. Then lend me your ear-Why last night, as colonel Kill'em, sir William Weezy, lord Frederick Foretop, and I were carelessly sliding the Ranelagh round, picking our teeth, after a damn'd muzzy dinner at Boodle's, who should trip by but an abbess, well known about town, with a smart little nun in her suite. Says Weezy (who, between our selves, is as husky as hell) Who is that? odds flesh, she's a delicate wench! Zounds! cried lord Frederick, where can Weezy have been, not to have seen the Harietta before? for you must know Frederick is

a bit of a Macaroni, and adores the soft Italian termination in a.

Char. He does?

Sir Luke. Yes, a dilettante all over.-Before? replied Weezy: crush me if ever I saw any thing half so handsome before !-No! replied I in an instant; colonel, what will Weezy say when he sees the Charlotta?-Hey! you little

Char. Meaning me, I presume.

Sir Luke. Without doubt; and you have been toasted by that name ever since.

Serj. What a vast fund of spirits he has ! Sir Luke. And why not, my old splitter of causes?

Serj. I was just telling Charlotte, that you was not a whit the worse for the loss,

Sir Luke. The worse! much the better, my dear. Consider, I can have neither strain, splint, spavin, or gout; have no fear of corns, kibes, or that another man should kick my shins or tread on my toes. Serj. Right.

Sir Luke. What, dy'e think I would change with Bill Spindle for one of his drumsticks, or chop with lord Lumber for both of his logs?

Serj. No!

Sir Luke. No, damn it, I am much better.Look there-Ha!- What is there I am not able to do? To be sure I am a little aukward at running; but then, to make me amends, I'll hop with any man in town for his sum.

Serj. Ay, and I'll go his halves.

Sir Luke. Then as to your dancing, I am cut out at Madam Cornelly's, I grant, because of the croud; but as far as a private set of six couple, or moving a chair-minuet, match me who can.

Char. A chair minuet! I don't understand you. Sir Luke. Why, child, all grace is confined to the motion of the head, arms, and chest, which may be as fully displayed sitting as if one had as

many legs as a polypus.-As thus-tol de roldon't you see?

Serj. Very plain.

Sir Luke. A leg! a redundancy! a mere nothing at all. Man is from nature an extravagant creature. In my opinion, we might all be full as well as we are, with but half the things that we have.

Char. Ay, sir Luke! how do you prove that? Sir Luke. By constant experience.-You must have seen the man who makes and uses pens without hands.

Serj. I have.

Sir Luke.

And not a twelvemonth ago, I lost my way in a fog, at Mile End, and was conducted to my house in May-Fair by a man as blind as a beetle.

Serj. Wonderful!

Sir Luke. And as to hearing and speaking, those organs are of no manner of use in the world. Serj. How!

Sir Luke. If you doubt it, I will introduce you to a whole family, dumb as oysters, and deaf the dead, who chatter from morning till night by only the help of their fingers.

Serj. Why, Charlotte, these are cases in point. Sir Luke. Oh! clear as a trout-stream; and it is not only, my little Charlotte, that this piece of timber answers every purpose, but it has procured me many a bit of fun in my time.

Serj. Ay!

Sir Luke. Why, it was but last summer, at Tunbridge, we were plagued the whole season by a bullet-headed Swiss from the canton of Bern, who was always boasting, what, and how much he dared do; and then, as to pain, no Stoic, not Diogenes, held it more in contempt.-By gods, he vas no more minds it dan nothings at all-so, foregad, I gave my German a challenge.

Serj. As how ?-Mind, Charlotte.

Sir Luke. Why, to drive a corking pin into the calves of our legs.

Serj. Well, well.

Sir Luke. Mine, you may imagine, was easily done-but when it came to the Baron

Serj. Ay, ay.

Sir Luke. Our modern Cato soon lost his coolness and courage, screw'd his nose up to his foretop, rapp'd out a dozen oaths in high Dutch, limp'd away to his lodgings, and was there laid up for a month-Ha, ha, ha!

Enter a Servant, and delivers a card to Sir Luke.

Sir Luke reads. "Sir Gregory Goose desires the honour of sir Luke Limp's company to dine. An answer is desired." Gadso! a little unlucky; I have been engag'd for these three weeks.

Serj. What, I find sir Gregory is return'd for the corporation of Fleecem.

Sir Luke. Is he so? Oh ho!-That alters the case. George, give my compliments to sir Gregory, and I'll certainly come and dine there. Order Joe to run to alderman Inkle's, in Threadneedle-street; sorry can't wait upon him, but confin'd to bed two days with the new influenza.

[Exit Servant. Char. You make light, sir Luke, of these sort of engagements.

Sir Luke. What can a man do? These damn'd fellows (when one has the misfortune to meet them) take scandalous advantage; teaze. When will you do me the honour, pray, sir Luke, to take a bit of mutton with me? Do you name the day, -They are as bad as a beggar, who attacks your coach at the mounting of a hill; there is no getting rid of them, without a penny to one, and a promise to t'other.

Serj. True; and then for such a time too

three weeks! I wonder they expect folks to remember. It is like a retainer in Michaelmas term for the summer assizes.

Sir Luke. Not but, upon these occasions, no man in England is more punctual than

Enter a Servant, who gives sir Luke a Letter.

From whom?

Serv. Earl of Brentford. The servant waits for an answer. Sir Luke.

Answer!-By your leave, Mr. Serjeant and Charlotte. [Reads.] "Taste for music -Mons. Duport-fail-Dinner upon table at five." -Gadso! I hope sir Gregory's servant an't gone.

Serv. Immediately upon receiving the answer. Sir Luke. Run after him as fast as you cantell him, quite in despair-recollect an engagement that can't in nature be missed,-and return in an instant. [Exit Servant. Char. You see, sir, the knight must give way for my lord.

Sir Luke. No, faith; it is not that, my dear Charlotte; you saw that was quite an extempore business. No, hang it, no, it is not for the title; but to tell you the truth, Brentford has more wit than any man in the world; it is that makes me fond of his house.

Char. By the choice of his company he gives an unanswerable instance of that.

But

Sir Luke. You are right, my dear girl. now to give you a proof of his wit: You know Brentford's finances are a little out of repair, which procures him some visits that he would very gladly

excuse.

Serj. What need he fear? His person is sacred; for by the tenth of William and Mary

Sir Luke. He knows that well enough; but for all that

Serj. Indeed, by a late act of his own house,