friend; but you must not look for any thing further.

5th Lady. No doubt of your ability to make any woman happy; but have no thoughts of changing my name.

6th Lady. Must tell you, Sir, that if by your insinuations, you think to prevail with me, you have got the wrong sow by the ear.

Does he think any lady would go to pig with him?

Old Lady. Must beg you to be less particular in your addresses to me. Does he take me for a Jew, to long after forbidden meats?

Mr. H. I shall go mad!-to be refused by old Mother Damnable-she that's so old, nobody knows whether she was ever married or no, but passes for a maid by courtesy; her juvenile exploits being beyond the farthest stretch of tradition!-old Mother Damnable !

[Exeunt all, either pitying or seeming to avoid him.

SCENE.-The Street.

BELVIL and another Gentleman.

Belvil. Poor Jack, I am really sorry for him. The account which you give me of his mortifying change of reception at the assembly, would be

highly diverting, if it gave me less pain to hear it. With all his amusing absurdities, and amongst them not the least, a predominant desire to be thought well of by the fair sex, he has an abundant share of good nature, and is a man of honour. Notwithstanding all that has happened, Melesinda may do worse than take him yet. But did the women resent it so deeply as you say?

Gentleman. O intolerably-they fled him as fearfully when 'twas once blown, as a man would be avoided, who was suddenly discovered to have marks of the plague, and as fast; when before they had been ready to devour the foolishest thing he could say.

Belvil. Ha! ha! so frail is the tenure by which these women's favourites commonly hold their envied pre-eminence. Well, I must go find him out and comfort him. I suppose, I shall find him at the inn.

Gentleman. Either there or at Melesinda's.

Adieu.

SCENE. MR. H's Apartment.

[Exeunt.

Mr. H. (solus) Was ever any thing so mortifying? to be refused by old Mother Damnable !with such parts and address,-and the little

squeamish devils, to dislike me for a name, a sound.-O my cursed name! that it was something I could be revenged on! if it were alive, that I might tread upon it, or crush it, or pummel it, or kick it, or spit it out-for it sticks in my throat and will choak me.

My plaguy ancestors! if they had left me but a Van or a Mac, or an Irish O', it had been something to qualify it.-Mynheer Van Hogsflesh,— or Sawney Mac Hogsflesh,-or Sir Phelim O' Hogsflesh,-but downright blunt If it had been any other name in the world, I could have borne it. If it had been the name of a beast, as Bull, Fox, Kid, Lamb, Wolf, Lion; or of a bird, as Sparrow, Hawk, Buzzard, Daw, Finch, Nightingale; or of a fish, as Sprat, Herring, Salmon; or the name of a thing, as Ginger, Hay, Wood or of a colour, as Black, Grey, White, Green; or of a sound, as Bray; or the name of a month, as March, May; or of a place, as Barnet, Baldock, Hitchin; or the name of a coin, as Farthing, Penny, Twopenny; or of a profession, as Butcher, Baker, Carpenter, Piper, Fisher, Fletcher, Fowler, Glover; or a Jew's name, as Solomons, Isaacs, Jacobs; or a personal name, as Foot, Leg, Crookshanks, Heaviside, Sidebottom,

Longbottom, Ramsbottom, Winterbottom; or a long name, as Blanchenhagen, or Blanchenhausen; or a short name, as Crib, Crisp, Crips, Tag, Trot, Tub, Phips, Padge, Papps, or Prig, or Wig, or Pip, or Trip; Trip had been something, but Ho. (Walks about in great agitation,-reco

vering his calmness a little, sits down.)

Farewell the most distant thoughts of marriage; the finger-circling ring, the purity-figuring glove, the envy-pining bridemaids, the wishing parson, and the simpering clerk. Farewell, the ambiguous blush-raising joke, the titter-provoking pun, the morning-stirring drum.-No son of mine shall exist, to bear my ill-fated name. No nurse come chuckling, to tell me it is a boy. No midwife, leering at me from under the lids of professional gravity. I dreamed of caudle. (sings in a melancholy tone). Lullaby, Lullaby,hush-a-by-baby-how like its papa it is!—(makes motions as if he was nursing). And then, when grown up, "Is this your son, Sir?" "Yes, Sir, a poor copy of me,-a sad young dog,-just what his father was at his age,-I have four more at home." Oh! oh! oh!

Enter Landlord,

Mr. H. Landlord, I must pack up to night; you will see all my things got ready.

Landlord. Hope your Honor does not intend to quit the Blue Boar,-sorry any thing has happened.

Mr. H. He has heard it all.

Landlord. Your Honour has had some mortification, to be sure, as a man may say; you have brought your pigs to a fine market.

Mr. H. Pigs!

Landlord. What then? take old Pry's advice, and never mind it. Don't scorch your crackling for 'em, Sir.

r

Mr. H. Scorch my crackling! a queer phrase; but I suppose he don't mean to affront me.

Landlord. What is done can't be undone; you can't make a silken purse out of a sow's ear. Mr. H. As you say, Landlord, thinking of a thing does but augment it.

Landlord. Does but hogment it, indeed, Sir. Mr. H. Hogment it! damn it, I said, augment it. Landlord. Lord, Sir, 'tis not every body has such gift of fine phrases as your Honour, that can lard his discourse.