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Lucy. Indeed, Madam!

Lady Rifc. My father was a stock-broker, you know, and your father, my first husband, an attorney, my dear.

Lucy. True, Madam.

Lady Rifc. And as they had no reserve, they kept no fecrets from ine, I must have been a blockhead, indeed, not to have made fome progrefs in their profeffional arts.

Lucy. True, Madam.

Lady Rife. But after defeating Sir James' Biddulph's defigns upon Lydia, to turn the tide of his affections, and fubftitute you in her room, will, Lucy, be the great political effort.

Lucy. From your ladyfhip's great abilities there cannot be the leaft doubt of fuccefs: befides, her father is fo hafty and violent that, I am fure, he will never be brought to forgive her.

Lady Rife. There is no relying on that; no mortal was ever fo mutable. Our various climate is not fo inconftant as he. Sir Robert is choleric enough, but then, as he is provoked without caufe, he is appeafed without reafon; one word will inflame, another extinguish the fire; whom one minute he perfecutes, the next he protects. His joy, grief, love, hatred, are in eternal rotation, and I have been often tempted to think his mind a machine, moved only by the immediate objects before it.

Lucy. And yet, Madam, how compleatly you rule him!

Lady Rife. No longer, child, than I ftay by his fide; after that, the fi:ft perfon has him

C

that

that fees him, and all my impreffions are effaç'd in an instant.

Enter Kitty.

Kitty. My mafter has got at the paragraph. Lady Rifc. Has he fo? well, and

Kitty. He enquired, Madam, for you, and putting his finger here, bid me fhew this directly to your ladyship.

Lady Rifc. He did not fufpect then that I had feen it before?

Kitty. Not in the leaft-but here he comes tottering and trembling-with his face as white. as a sheet.

Lady Rifc. Get you behind.

Enter Sir Robert Riscounter.

Sir Rob. Rifc. Well, my dear, have you read

Lady Rifc. Sir Robert, I have.

Sir Rob. Rifc. Have you fo? Well, and pray what do you think? Did you ever fee fuch an audacious, abominable, impudent, fcandalous piece of fcurrility? Zounds, give me my cane, I will go directly to the rafcally printer's, and

Lady Rife. But fuppofe, Sir Robert, the printer fhould not be paffive, and, in return for the strokes of your cane, should leave the marks of his nails in your face.

Sir Rob. There may be fomething in that, as your ladyship fays, I have heard fome of the rogues are strong and sturdy enough.

Lady Rifc. And, firft, let us be fure who the party is the paragraph points at. Sir Rob.

Sir Rob. Hey! what d'ye fay? points at ? why, it is as clear as the fun-[takes the paper] banker---Monument--- firft venture---zounds they might as well have published my name, and my daughter's, at length.

Lady Rifc. Why, to fay truth, the marks are pretty strong; but ftill let us coolly confider the cafe. Kitty, go down; Lucy, my dear, leave Sir Robert and me together a little. [Exit Lucy and Kitty. Sir Rob. Ay, go, child, pr'ythee go. don't believe, Lady Rifcounter, that there is a single man in the Ward, who would have the least hesitation in pronouncing who was--

I

Lady Rifc. Well, but don't let us be in fuch hurry to make the application ourselves; the malice of others will be ready enough to do that let me fee, is there no other banker lives near the Monument?

Sir Rob. Not that I know; but fuppofe there fhould, here, the weft end of the town, and the amiable baronet, puts the matter out of difpute: hey, what d'ye fay ?--

Lady Rifc. That, indeed; but, hold a little, does not it mention the name of the paramour? Ay, here it is, J---S.

Sir Rob. J--S.

Lady Rifc. J---s, I don't recollect any body that vifits here, whofe name those letters will fuit.

Sir Rob. There is no Jones, nor Joddrell poo, pox, that is an L---nor Jennings, nor Jarvis, nor Jenkins, nor

Lady Rifc. Not that I recollect.

Sir Rob. There is Jacobs the Jew, but

he is as old as one of the patriarchs, with his beard down to his breeches; they can never mean him.

Lady Rifc. Poo! that's too abfurd to fuppofe: but stay, are there no other distinguishing marks? um, um," J-s, clerk of her father's." I own that paffage escaped

me.

Sir Rob. Hey! what did you fay? and me too, one of my clerks! who can that be? Js, the two letters belonging to a fur

name.

Lady Rifc. So I fhould imagine.

Sir Rob. Zounds! it can never be James.. Lady Rifc. James!

Sir Rob. An impudent, eternal, damn'd fon of a bitch! this is the confequence of taking beggars into your bofom.

Lady Rifc. But, Sir Robert

Sir Rob. Don't mention it, Madam; was not he the thirteenth fon of a ftarv'd Curate in Effex, ragged as their colts, and knew about as much as one of their calves-did not I feed, cloath, take him into my houfe, treat him as if he had been-and, in return, the villian to difhonour my child!

Lady Rifc. You are too impatient, Sir Robert; why fhould you fix all at once upon James? I have obferved the lad's behaviour to be difcreet and modeft; nay, indeed, rather shy and referv'd.

Sir Rob. That is true enough, I must own. I never remark'd the boy to be prefumptuous and forward, like fome of our pert prigs of the city, but, as your ladyfhip obferves, rather

bashful

bafhful and fhy. No, no, it can never be him.

Lady Rifc. Not but I have known people with that fpecious outfide appearance, carry minds as malignant and daring

Sir Rob. The curfedeft fly dogs upon earth: hypocrify is the finest veil for a villian. I always fufpected there was fomething bad behind his folemn fanctified look: I don't believe the fcoundrel ever fwore an oath fince he came into the house. There is a villian for you, my dear.

Lady Rifc. Nay, but my dear, let us conclude nothing rafhly. Suppofe you fend for James up, and fift him a little?

Sir Rob. That may'nt be amifs-who's there?

Lady Rifc. Not that I believe he will be ever brought to confefs.

Sir Rob. He! no, no, curfe him. Him! you will never catch him at that: you might as well hope to extract fugar from falt. I may as well let him alone.

Lady Rifc. Let us fee him, however,

Sir Rob.

Enter a Servant.

True. Let James know that I' want him, but don't tell the fellow I am angry, and fo get him to fkulk out of the way.

Ser. I did not know that your worship was angry, 'till you told me your

Sir Rob. I tell you! my dear, did I fay any fuch thing? You prying, impertinent Go, and do as you are bid. [Exit Servant.

Lady Rifc. I don't think it unlikely, Sir Robert, but fome idle acquaintance, without con

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fidering

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