Mac. Bravo, bravo! Did I na say, Sir Charles was a phenomenon?

Crab. Peace, puppy!

Buck. Then, in solemn silence, they proceed to demolish the substantials, with perhaps an occasional interruption of, ' Here's to you, friends;' 'Hob or nob;' Your love and mine.' Pork succeeds to beef, pyes to puddings. The cloth is removed. Madamı, drenched with a bumper, drops a curtsey, and departs; leaving the jovial host, with his sprightly companions, to tobacco, port, and politics. Violà un repas à la mode d'Angleterre, Monsieur Crab.

Crab. It is a thousand pities that your father is not a living witness of these prodigious improvements.

Buck. C'est vrai. But, à propos, he is dead, as you say, and you are

Crab. Against my inclination, his executor.
Buck. Peut-être; well, and-

Crab. Oh, my trust will soon determine. One article, indeed, I am strictly enjoined to see performed; your marriage with your old acquaint

ance Lucinda.

Buck. Ha, ha, la petite Lucinde! et com

ment

Crab. Pr'ythee, peace, and hear me. She is bequeathed conditionally, if you refuse to marry her, twenty thousand pounds; and if she rejects you, which I suppose she will have the wisdom to do, only five.

Buck. Reject me! Very probable, hey, Mac? But could not we have an entrevue?

Crab. Who's there?—Let Lucinda know we expect her.

Mac. Had na ye better, Sir Charles, equip yoursell in a more suitable garb upon a first visit to your mistress?

Crab. Oh, such a figure and address can derive no advantage from dress.

Buck. Serviteur. But, however, Mac's hint may not be so mal à propos. Allons, Jonquil, je m'en vais m'habiller. Milor, shall I trespass upon your patience? My toilette is but a work of ten minutes. Mac, dispose of my domestics a leur aise, and then attend me with my port feuille, and read, while I dress, those remarks I made in my last voyage from Fountainbleu to Compeigne. Serviteur, messieurs.

mate, that we have lost all our ancient characteristics, and are become a bundle of contradictions, a piece of patch-work, a mere harlequin's

coat.

Lord John. Do you suppose then, sir, that no good may be obtained

Crab. Why, pr'ythee, what have you gained? Lord John. I should be sorry my acquisitions were to determine the debate. But, do you think, sir, the shaking off some native qualities, and the being made more sensible, from comparison, of certain national and constitutional advantages, objects unworthy the attention?

Crab. You show the favourable side, young man: But how frequently are substituted for national prepossessions, always harmless, and often happy, guilty and unnatural prejudices? Unnatural! For the wretch, who is weak and wicked enough to despise his country, sins against the most laudable law of nature; he is a traitor to the community where providence has placed him, and should be denied those social benefits he has rendered himself unworthy to partake. But sententious lectures are ill calculated for your time

of life.

Lord John. I differ from you here, Mr. Crab. Principles, that call for perpetual practice, cannot be too soon received. I sincerely thank you, sir, for this communication, and should be happy to have always near me so moral a monitor.

Crab. You are indebted to France for her flattery. But I leave you with a lady, where it will be better employed.

Enter LUCINDA.

This young man waits here till your puppy is powdered. You may ask him after your French acquaintance. I know nothing of him; but he does not seem to be altogether so great a fool as your fellow.

[Erit.

Luc. I am afraid, sir, you have had but a disagreeable tête a tête.

Lord John. Just the contrary, madam. By good sense, tinged with singularity, we are entertained as well as improved. For a lady, indeed, Mr. Crab's manners are rather too rough.

Luc. Not a jot; I am familiarized to them. I know his integrity, and can never be disobliged by his sincerity.

Lord John. This declaration is a little particular from a lady, who must have received her first impressions in a place remarkable for its delicacy to the fair sex. But good sense can conquer even early habits.

Luc. This compliment I can lay no claim to. The former part of my life procured me but very little indulgence. The pittance of knowledge possess, was taught me by a very severe mistress, Adversity. But you, sir, are too well acquainted with Sir Charles Buck not to have known my situation.

Lord John. I have heard your story, madam, before I had the honour of seeing you. It was affecting: You'll pardon the declaration : it now

Luc. Events, that depend upon the will of another, a thousand unforeseen accidents may interrupt.

Lord John. Could I hope, madam, your present critical condition would acquit me of temerity, I should take the liberty to presume, if the suit of Sir Charles be rejected

Enter CRAB.

Crab. So, youngster! what, I suppose you are already practising one of your foreign lessons. Perverting the affections of a friend's mistress,

SCENE-J.

Luc. I shall attend you, sir. Never was so unhappy an interruption! What could my lord mean? But be it what it will, it ought not, it cannot concern me.-Gratitude and duty demand my compliance with the dying wish of my benefactor, my friend, my father. But am I then to sacrifice all my future peace? But reason not, rash girl! obedience is thy province.

Though hard the task, be it my part to prove, That sometimes duty can give laws to love.

My dear lord, je demande mille pardons; but the terrible fracas in my chaise, had so gated and disordered my hair, that it required an age to adjust it.

Lord John. No apology, Sir Charles; I have been entertained very agreeably.

Buck. Who have you had, my dear lord, to entertain you?

Lord John. The very individual lady that's soon to make you a happy husband.

Buck. A happy who? husband?What two very opposite ideas have you confounded ensemble!-In my conscience, I believe there's contagion in the clume, and mi lor is infected. But pray, mi dear lor, by what accident have you discovered that I was upon the point of becoming that happy-Oh, un mari ! 'diable!

Lord John. The lady's beauty and merit, your

inclinations, and your father's injunctions, made me conjecture that.

Buck. And can't you suppose that the lady's beauty may be possessed, her merit rewarded, and my inclinations gratified, without an absolute obedience to that fatherly injunction?

Lord John. It does not occur to me. Buck. No, I believe not, mi lor. Those kind of talents are not given to every body. Donnez moi mon manchon. And now you shall see me manage the lady.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Young Squire Racket and Sir Toby Tallyloe, who call themselves your honour's old acquaintances.

Buck. Oh the brutes! By what accident could they discover my arrival? Mi dear, dear lor, aid me to escape this embarras.

RACKET and TALLYHOE without. Hoic a hoy, hoic a hoy!

Buck. Let me die if I do not believe the Hottentots have brought a whole hundred of hounds with them. But, they say, forms keep fools at a distance. I'll receive them en ceremonie.

Enter RACKET and TALLYHOE. Tal. Hey, boy; hoics, my little Buck! Buck. Monsieur le Chevalier, votres tres kumble serviteur.

Metamorphosis; they have turned him into a

beast!

no objection to the being entertained by their legs.

cover your retreat.

Buck. Mac, let La Jonquil follow to resettle my cheveux.- -Je vous remercie mille, mille fois, mon cher mi lor.

Rac. Hola, Sir Toby, stole away!
Buck. O mon Dieu !

[Exit. Tal. Poh, rot him; let him alone. He'll never do for our purpose. You must know, we intended to kick up a riot to-night at the playhouse, and we wanted him of the party; but that fop would swoon at the sight of a cudgel.

Lord John. Pray, sir, what is your cause of contention?

Tal. Cause of contention! Hey, faith, I know nothing of the matter. Racket, what is it we are angry about?

Rac. Angry about!-Why, you know we are

to demolish the dancers.

Tal. True, true; I had forgot. Will you make one?

of Bienheim. Come along. Racket. [Exeunt. Lord John. Was there ever such a contrast? Crab. Not so remote as you imagine; they are scions from the same stock, set in different soils. The first shrub, you see, flowers more prodigally, but matures nothing; the last slip, though stunted, bears a little fruit; crabbed, 'tis true, but still the growth of the clime. Come, you'll follow your friend. [Exeunt.

Enter LUCINDA, with a Servant.

Luc. When Mr. Crab or Sir Charles inquire for me, you will conduct them hither. [Exit Servant.] How I long for an end to this important interview! Not that I have any great expectations from the issue; but still in my circumstances, a state of suspence is of all situations most disagreeable. But bush, they come. Enter SIR CHARLES, MACRUTHEN, LORD JOHN,

and CRAB.

Buck. Mac, announce me.

Mac. Madam, Sir Charles Buck craves the honour of kissing your hand.

Buck. Tres humble serviteur. Et comment sa porte, Mademoisselle? I am ravished to see thee, ma chere petite Lucinde-Eh bien, ma reine! Why you look divinely, child. But, mon enfant, they have dressed you most diabolically. Why what a coiffeure must you have! and, oh mon Dieu! a total absence of rouge. But perhaps you are out. I had a cargo from Deffreny the day of my departure: Shall I have the honour to supply you?

Luc. You are obliging, sir: but I confess myself a convert to the chaste customs of this country; and, with a commercial people, you know, Sir Charles, all artifice

Buck. Artifice! You mistake the point, ma chere. A proper portion of red is an indispensable part of your dress; and, in my private opinion, a woman might as well appear in publie without powder or a petticoat.

Crab. And in my private opinion, a woman who puts on the first, would make very little difficulty in pulling off the last.

Buck. Oh, Monsieur Crab's judgment must be decisive in dress. Well, and what amusements, what spectacles, what parties, what contrivances, to conquer father Time, that foe to the fair? İ fancy one must ennuier considerablement in your

London here.

Luc. Oh, we are in no distress for diversions. We have an opera.

soleil,

2

Luc. I fancy my hero is a little puzzled with his part. But now for it.

Buck. A queer creature, that Crab, ma petite. But, à propos, How d'you like my lord?

Luc. He seems to have good sense, and good breeding.

Buck. Pas trop. But don't you think he has something of a foreign kind of air about him? Luc. Foreign!

Buck. Ay, something so English in his manner? Luc. Foreign and English! I don't comprehend you.

Buck. Why that is, he has not the ease, the je ne scai quoi, the bon ton.—In a word, he does not resemble me now.

Luc. Not in the least.

Buck. Now that, have not I the least inclination to do.

Luc. No, sir? Why you own that marriage

Luc. How does that concern me, Sir Charles? Buck. Why, je pense, ma reine, that your eyes have done execution there.

Luc. My eyes execution!

Buck. Ay, child, is there any thing so extraordinary in that? Ma foi, I thought, by the vivacity of his praise, that he had already summoned the garrison to surrender.

Luc. To carry on the allusion, I believe my lord is too good a commander to commence a fruitless siege. He could not but know the condition of the town.

Buck. Condition! Explain, ma chere. Luc. I was in hopes your interview with Mr. Crab had made that unnecessary.

Buck. Oh, ay, I do recollect something of a ridiculous article about marriage in a will. But what a plot against the peace of two poor people! Well, the malice of some men is amazing! Not contented with doing all the mischief they can in their life, they are for entailing their malevolence, like their estates, to latest posterity.

Luc. Your contempt of me, Sir Charles, I receive as a compliment. But the infinite obligations I owe to the man who had the misfortune to call you son, compel me to insist, that, in my presence at least, no indiguity be offered to his memory.

Buck. Heyday! What, in heroics, ma reine? LMC. Ungrateful, unfilial wretch! so soon to trample on his ashes, the greatest load of whose fond heart, in his last hour, were his fears for thy future welfare.

Buck. Ma foi, elle est folle; she is mad, sans doute.

Luc. But I am to blame. Can he, who breaks through one sacred relation, regard another? Can the monster, who is corrupt enough to contemu the place of his birth, reverence those who gave him being?-Impossible.

Buck. Ah, a pretty monologue! a fine soliloquy this, child.

Luc. Contemptible! But I am cool. Buck. I am mightily glad of it. Now we shall understand one another, I hope.

Luc. Oh, we'll soon settle that dispute; the law

Buck. But hold, ma reine. I don't find that my provident father has precisely determined the time of this comfortable conjunction. So, though I am condemned, the day of execution is not fixed.

Luc. Sir!

Buck. I say, my soul, there goes no more to your dying a maid, than my living a bachelor. Luc. O, sir, I shall find a remedy. Buck. But now, suppose, ma belle, I have found one to your hand?

Luc. As how? Name one.

Buck, I'll name two. And first, mon enfante, though I have an irresistible antipathy to the conjugal knot, yet I am by no means blind to your personal charms: in the possession of which, if you please to place me, not only the aforesaid twenty thousand pounds, but the whole terre of your devoted shall fall at your

Luc. Grant me patience!

Buck. Indeed you want it, my dear. But if you flounce, I fly.

Luc. Quick, sir, your other! For this is

Buck. I grant, not quite so fashionable as my other. It is then, in a word, that you would let this lubberly lord make you a lady, and appoint me his assistant, his private friend, his cisisbei. And as we are to be joint partakers of your person, let us be equal sharers in your fortune, ma belle.

Luc. Thou mean, abject, mercenary thing! Thy mistress! Gracious Heaven !—Universal empire should not bribe me to be thy bride.And what apology, what excuse, could a woman of the least sense or spirit make for so unnatural a connection!