Tromf. Fort bien! dat vas ver vell fancy : Pardie, monfieur Minicky has great deal of wit !

Jenny. Yes, well enough; if fo be that he had got me a man to my mind; but he was fo undutiful as never to think of confulting of me.

Tromf. Oh, fy, fy, Monfieur Minicky! dat vas terrible ting.

Jenny. Ay, was it not, Monfieur? quite monftrous, as a body may say; and fo you would own, if you was to fee the creature he fixed on ; Kit Codling, a fat fifhmonger, hard by the 'Change. They fay the man is well enough to pafs in the world; one of the livery, a pretty good fpeechefyer, minds his fhop, and is careful. and fober; but, Lord, what fignifies that? he has no more idera of drefs than a Dutchman ; and as to cotillions, I suppose he knows as much about them as a cow.

Tromf. Oh, fy, fy! Mauvaise partie, bad partie ! Jenny. And fo, Dicky and I being bred up together, as it were, and being a genteelifh virtuous young man

Tromf. Ah, vas tres gentile.

Jenny. Yes; for except lying out all night now and then, hating to be fo vulgar as to ftay in the fhop, frequenting the tavern in fearch of good company, running his father in debt for his credit, and gracing his converfation with the oaths moft in fashion, I don't believe the lad has a fingle vice in the world.

Tromf. Dat is ver extraordinary!

Jenny. And yet you can't think what an orationing father used to make every day: But, between you and I, Monfieur, father and mother are but a couple of fogrum old fools; ben't they, Dicky?

Dick. To fay truth, little better, my dear.

Jenny. Why, what a noise they made about my only running from school for three or four days with Monfieur Chaffon, our maître de dance, juft as if they thought I would never come back again; ha, ha!

Dick. To fay truth, Mounfeer, Mifs Jenny amongst them had but a very bad time; for this I must confefs to her face, fhe is the most beft temperedeft girl in the world; for let her but fay and do what the pleases, and you will scarcely hear a cross word come out of her mouth in a month.

Tromf. Vraiment ?

Dick. Then, to prove what a dutiful daughter fhe always has been, fhe conftantly ufed to fteal out to fee Breflaw, the plays, and hear Sighiora Gamberbelly at the opera, on purpose to prevent their being tired with her company at

home.

Tromf. Ver confiderate !

Dick. And whenever the old folks charged her with doing any thing wrong, fhe never told them a word of truth in her life.

Tromf. No?

Dick. No; for fear of making her parents uneafy.

Tromf. Ver aimable indeed!

Jenny. Nay, Monfieur, Dicky was always very partial to me.-And fo, we taking a fancy to one another, and to prevent father from expofing himself by fuch a ridiculous choice as Kit Codling, we agreed to give the old ones the flip, and take a little tour to the kingdom of

France.

Tromf. Bien imaginée! dat vas vell imagin!

Dick. And fo,, Mounfeer

Jenny. Nay, Dicky, don't interrupt me, my dear!And fo, as I was a-faying, if you can contrive to procure us a marrying doctor, for I am told there are one or two who have fet up in that way in this town, we fhall take it, Monfieur, as a very particular favour.

Tromf. I fhall be ver happy, tres charmée! to be capable to ferve-a you.

Jenny. Vaft polite ! and indeed, as I have often told Dicky, the French always are fo.

Tromf. Indeed, I have great regard for-de Englis; and ven dey come over, I never refuse my protection.

Jenny. Mighty civil, indeed!

Tromf. Why, every fummer dere come here to my house a great many my lors; and I let 'em ftay two, tree months, juft as long as dey please.

Dick. What, for nothing, Mounfeer?

Tromf. Prefque la meme chofe! almost de very fame ting; dey never pay noding at all, only juft for dere eating, drinking, and fleeping. Jenny. How generous and noble !

Tromf. Yes; I alvays have great penchant, great partiality, for dofe of your country. Vy, dere vas fome time ago, ven my house and my good vas burn down by de fire, I never vas take noding at all from de French.

Dick. No?

Tromf. Pas une fous; but fuffer my lors Anglois to build-a my hotel up again to dere own tafte, vidout de leaft interruption.

Dick. How kind, to give that preference to us! Jenny. That indeed was the very excess of good breeding!

Tromf.

Tromf. And ven dey bring over good many guinea, lumb'ring heavy great ting, I make de change vid de louis, dat vas fo pretty, and as light as de cork.

Jenny. How difinterested!

Tromf. And as I know Meffieurs les Anglois come here to improve demfelves by travel in France, I advise dem always to stay here as long as dey can, and never to tink of going home, till all dere monies be gone.

Dick. What a fine thing it is to get fuch a friend in foreign parts!

Jenny. True, Dicky. Well, but, Monfieur, do you think you can provide us with the party we want?

Tromf. Pour la mariage? for marry you? dere is no doubt.

Dick. But there is no time, Mounfeer, to be loft, for we expect Mifs's father and mother to follow us in the very first ship.

Tromf. Dere is de Doctor Coupler live just-a by, in de very next street.

Jenny. Then fend for him directly.

Tromf. Very probable he is not at home at dis time.

Dick. No?

Tromf. He commonly take de opportunity of defe dark night, to ftep crofs de Shannel, and fupply his friend on t'oder fide vid de brandy and tea.

Dick. Oh, what, I reckon, the Doctor smuggles a little ?

Tromf. Yes, for little amufement, just pour paffer le temps; for he is ver fond of de fea.

Dick. Will you enquire, Mounfeer, if we cannot meet with the Doctor?

Tromf.

Tromf. A l'inflant; dis very moment.

Enter a very old Waiter.

Eh bien? La Jeunesse! vat is de matter?

La feu. Dere is anoder veffel from Dover, juft-a put into de port.

Dick. Is there? Then ten to one your father is in her !

Tromf. Dat vill be ver mal-à-propos !

Dick. Hadn't I better run down to the key, and take a peep at who lands?

Tromf. By all mean; de very best dought in de vorld.

Dick. Stay you here, Mifs; I will be back in a trice.

[Exit. Tromf. A ver pretty gentleman, dat Maister Druggy!

Jenny. Yes, Dicky is thought very well on. Tromf. He has ver great head; beaucoup de politique!

Jenny. Yes, yes; he has wit enough when he will. Tromf. Ma foi, Maister Dicky be fort! a ver happy man, to be fure!

Jenny. How fo, Monfieur Tromfort?

Tromf. How fo? pardie, to have engage de affection of fo aimable a Mademoiselle.

Jenny. Dear me, Monfieur, and d'ye think fo? Tromf. Affurement.

Jenny. Really? But you French are fo given to flattery!

Tromf. Point de tout, not at all! Vill you permit-a me, Mademoiselle, just to have de honour to kiss-a your hand?

Jenny. My hand, Monfieur! what good can that do you? Tromf. Ah!

my

God! how fine! vite as fnow, and