Stock. I hope, Miss Dudley, he has atoned to you as a gentleman ought?

Lou. Mr Belcour, sir, will always do what a gentleman ought-and, in my case, I fear only you will think he has done too much.

Stock. What has he done? and what can be too much? Pray, Heaven, it may be as I wish! [Aside.

Dud. Let us hear it, child? Lou. With confusion for my own unworthiness, I confess to you he has offered me Stock. Himself?

Lou. 'Tis true.

Stock. Then, I am happy: all my doubts, my cares are over, and I may own him for my son. Why, these are joyful tidings: come, my good friend, assist me in disposing your lovely daugh- da ter to accept this returning prodigal: he is no unprincipled, no hardened libertine; his love for you and virtue is the same.

Dud. 'Twere vile ingratitude in me to doubt his merit-What says my child?

Fla. Begging your pardon now, 'tis a frivolous sort of a question, that of yours; for you may see plainly enough, by the young lady's looks, that she says a great deal, though she speaks ne

ver a word.

Cha. Well, sister, I believe the major has fairly interpreted the state of your heart.

Lou. I own it; and what must that heart be, which love, honour and benevolence, like Mr Belcour's, can make no impression on?

Stock. I thank you. What happiness has this hour brought to pass!

O'Fla. Why don't we all sit down to supper, then, and make a night on't?

Stock. Hold, here comes Belcour.

BELCOUR introducing MISS RUSPORT.

Bel. Mr Dudley, here is a fair refugee, who properly comes under your protection: she is equipt for Scotland; but your good fortune, which I have related to her, seems inclined to save you both the journey-Nay, madam, never go back; you are amongst friends.

Cha. Charlotte!

Char. The same; that fond officious girl, that haunts you every where; that persecuting spirit

Cha. Say rather, that protecting angel: such you have been to me.

VOL II.

Lady Rus. Hey-day! mighty fine! wife truly! mighty well! kissing, embracing-did ever any thing equal this? Why, you shameless hussy! But I won't condescend to waste a word upon you. You, sir, you, Mr Stockwell, you fine, sanctified, fair-dealing man of conscience, is this the principle you trade upon? Is this your neighbourly system, to keep a house of reception for run-away daughters, and young beggarly fortunehunters?

O'Fla. Be advised now, and don't put yourself in such a passion; we were all very happy till you came.

Lady Rus. Stand away, sir! have not I a reason to be in a passion?

O'Fla. Indeed, honey, and you have, if you knew all.

Lady Rus. Come, madam, I have found out your haunts; dispose yourself to return home with me. Young man, let me never see you within my doors again. Mr Stockwell, I shall report your behaviour, depend upon it.

Stock. Hold, madam; I cannot consent to lose-Miss Rusport's company this evening, and I am persuaded you won't insist upon it: 'tis an unmotherly action to interrupt your daughter's happiness in this manner; believe me it is.

Lady Rus. Her happiness, truly! upon my word! and I suppose 'tis an unmotherly action to interrupt her ruin; for, what but ruin must it be to marry a beggar? I think my sister had a proof of that, sir, when she made choice of you. [TO CAPT. DUDLEY.

Dud. Don't be too lavish of your spirits, lady Rusport.

O'Fla. By my soul, you'll have occasion for a sip of the cordial elixir, by and by.

Stock. It don't appear to me, madam, that Mr Dudley can be called a beggar.

Lady Rus. But it appears to me, Mr Stockwell-I am apt to think a pair of colours cannot furnish settlement quite sufficient for the heiress of sir Stephen Rusport.

Char. But a good estate, in aid of a commission, may do something.

Lady Rus. A good estate, truly! where should he get a good estate, pray?

Stock. Why, suppose now a worthy old gentleman, on his death bed, should have taken it in mind to leave him one

Lady Rus. Ha! what's that you say?

6 C

O'Fla. O ho! you begin to smell a plot, do you?

Stock. Suppose there should be a paper in the world that runs thus I do hereby give and 'bequeath all my estates, real and personal, to 'Charles Dudley, son of my late daughter, Lou'isa,' &c. &c. &c.

Lady Rus. Why, I am thunderstruck! By what contrivance, what villainy, did you get possession of that paper?

Stock. There was no villainy, madam, in getting possession of it: the crime was in concealing it, none in bringing it to light.

Lady Rus. Oh, that cursed lawyer, Varland! O'Fla. You may say that, faith! he is a cursed lawyer, and a cursed piece of work I had to get the paper from him. Your ladyship now was to have paid him five thousand pounds for it-I forced him to give it me of his own accord, for nothing at all, at all.

Lady Rus. Is it you that have done this? Am I foiled by your blundering contrivances, after

all?

Stock. You have a father: did not I tell you I had a discovery to make? Compose yourself; you have a father, who observes, who knows, who loves you.

Bel. Keep me no longer in suspense! my heart is softened for the affecting discovery, and nature fits me to receive his blessing.

Stock. I am your father.
Bel. My father! Do I live?
Stock. I am your father.

Bel. It is too much; my happiness overpowers me: to gain a friend, and find a father, is too much: I blush to think how little I deserve you. [They embrace.

Dud. See, children, how many new relations spring from this night's unforeseen events, to endear us to each other.

O'Fla. O' my conscience, I think we shall be all related by and by.

Stock. How happily has this evening con cluded, and yet how threatening was its ap proach! Let us repair to the supper-room, where I will unfold to you every circumstance of my mysterious story. Yes, Belcour, I have watched you with a patient, but inquiring eye; and I have discovered, through the veil of some irregulari, ties, a heart beaming with benevolence, an animated nature, fallible, indeed, but not incorrigible; and your election of this excellent young lady makes me glory in acknowledging you to be my son.

Bel. I thank you-and, in my turn, glory in the father I have gained: sensibly imprest with gratitude for such extraordinary dispensations, I beseech you, amiable Louisa, for the time to come, whenever you perceive me deviating into error or offence, bring only to my mind the Providence of this night, and I will turn to reason, and obey. [Exeunt omnes.

house.

Enter MRS HARDCASTLE and MR HARDCASTLE

Mrs Hard. I vow, Mr Hardcastle, you're very particular. Is there a creature in the whole country, but ourselves, that does not take a trip to town now and then, to rub off the rust a little! There's the two Miss Hoggs, and our neighbour, Mrs Grigsby, go to take a month's polishing every winter.

Hord. Ay, and bring back vanity and affectation to last them the whole year. I wonder why London cannot keep its own fools at home. In my time, the follies of the town crept slowly

stage-coach. Its fopperies come down, not only as inside passengers, but in the very basket.

Mrs Hard. Ay, your times were fine times, indeed: you have been telling us of them for many a long year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion, that looks for all the world like, an inn, but that we never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs Oddfish, the curate's wife and little Cripplegate, the lame dancing master; and all our entertainment your old stories of Prince Eugene and the duke of Marlboroug. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery.

Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's old: old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine; and, I believe, Dorothy, [To

king her hand.] you'll own I have been pretty fond of an old wife.

Mrs Hard. Lord, Mr Hardcastle, you're for ever at your Dorothy's, and your old wife's. You may be a Darby, but I'll be no Joan, I promise you. I'm not so old as you'd make me by more than one good year. Add twenty to twenty, and make money of that.

Hard. Let me see-twenty added to twenty, makes just fifty and seven.

Mrs Hard. Its false, Mr Hardcastle: I was but twenty when I was brought to bed of Tony, that I had by Mr Lumpkin, my first husband: and he's not come to years of discretion yet.

Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for him. Ay, you have taught him finely.

Mrs Hard. No matter, Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his learning. I don't think a boy wants much learning to spend fifteen hundred a year.

Hard. Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief.

Mrs Hard. Humour, my dear: nothing but humour. Come, Mr Hardcastle, you must allow the boy a little humour.

Hard. I'd sooner allow him an horse-pond. If burning the footmen's shoes, frighting the maids, worrying the kittens, be humour, he has it. It was but yesterday he fastened my wig to the back of my chair, and when I went to make a bow, I popt my bald head in Mrs Frizzle's face.

Mrs Hard. And am I to blame? The poor hoy was always too sickly to do any good. A school would be his death. When he comes to be a little stronger, who knows what a year or two's Latin may do for him?

Hard. Latin for him! A cat and a fiddle. No, no; the ale-house and the stable are the only schools he'll ever go to.

Mrs Hard. Well, we must not snub the poor boy now, for I believe we shan't have him long among us. Any body that looks in his face may see he's consumptive.

Hard. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

Mrs Hard. He coughs sometimes:

Hard. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong

way.

Mrs Hard. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. Hard. And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking trumpet-[Tony hallooing behind the scenes.] - O there he goes!-A very consumptive figure, truly!

Enter TONY, crossing the stage.

Mrs Hard. Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't you give papa and I a little of your company, lovee?

Tony. I'm in haste, mother; I cannot stay. Mrs Hard. You shan't venture out this raw

evening, my dear: You look most shockingly. Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pi

ter.

Mrs Hard. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at least!

Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind; but I can't abide to disappoint myself.

Mrs Hard. [Detaining him.] You shan't go.
Tony. I will, I tell you.
Mrs Hard. I say, you shan't.
Tony. We'll see which is strongest, you or I.
[Exit, hawling her out.

Hard. Ay, there goes a pair that only spoil each other. But is not the whole age in a combination to drive sense and discretion out of doors? There's my pretty darling Kate; the fashions of the times have almost infected her, too. By living a year or two in town, she is as fond of gauze, and French frippery, as the best of them.

Enter MISS HARDCASTLE.

Blessings on my pretty innocence!-Drest out as usual, my Kate. Goodness! What a quantity of superfluous silk hast thou got about thee, girl! I could never teach the fools of this age, that the indigent world could be clothed out of the trimmings of the vain.

Miss Hard. You know our agreement, sir.You allow me the morning to receive and pay visits, and to dress in my own manner; and, in the evening, I put on my housewife's dress to please you.

Hard. Well, remember, I insist on the terms of our agreement; and, by the by, I believe I shall have occasion to try your obedience this very evening.

Miss Hard. I protest, sır, I don't comprehend your meaning.

Hard. Then, to be plain with you, Kate, I expect the young gentleman, I have chosen to be your husband, from town this very day. I have his father's letter, in which he informs me his son is set out, and that he intends to follow himself shortly after.

Miss Hard. Indeed! I wish I had known something of this before! Bless me, how shall I behave? It is a thousand to one I shan't like him; our meeting will be so formal, and so like a thing of business, that I shall find no room for friendship or esteem.

Hard. Depend upon it, child, I'll never controul your choice: but Mr Marlow, whom I have pitched upon, is the son of my old friend talk so often. The young gentleman has been bred a scholar, and is designed for an employment in the service of his country. I am told he's a man of an excellent understanding.

Miss Hard. Is he?

Hard. Very generous.

Miss Hard. I believe I shall like him.
Hard. Young and brave.

Miss Hard. I'm sure I shall like him.

Hard. And very handsome.

Miss Hard. My dear papa, say no more [kissing his hand.]; he's mine, I'll have him.

Hard. And, to crown all, Kate, he's one of the most bashful and reserved young fellows in all the world.

Miss Hard. Eh! you have frozen me to death again. That word, reserved, has undone all the rest of his accomplishments. A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.

Hard. On the contrary, modesty seldom resides in a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues. It was the very feature in his character that first struck me.

Miss Hard. He must have more striking features to catch me, I promise you. However, if he be so young, so handsome, and so every thing, as you mention, I believe he'll do still. I think I'll have him.

Hard. Ay, Kate, but there is still an obstacle. It's more than an even wager he may not have you.

Miss Hard. My dear papa, why will you mortify one so ?-Well, if he refuses, instead of breaking my heart at his indifference, I'll only break my glass for its flattery; set my cap to some newer fashion, and look out for some less difficult admirer.

Hard. Bravely resolved! In the mean time, I'll go prepare the servants for his reception. As we seldom see company, they want as much training as a company of recruits, the first day's [Exit.

muster.

Miss Hard. Lud! this news of papa's puts me all in a flutter. Young, handsome! these he put last; but I put them foremost. Sensible, goodnatured; I like all that. But then reserved, and sheepish ! that's much against him. against Yet can't he be cured of his timidity, by being taught to be proud of his wife? Yes, and can't I-But I vow I'm disposing of the husband, before I have secured the lover.

Enter MISS NEVILLE.

I'm glad you're come, Neville, my dear. Tell me, Constance, how do I look this evening! Is there any thing whimsical about me? Is it one of my well looking days, child? Am I in face to day?

Miss Nev. Perfectly, my dear. Yet now I look again-bless me!-sure no accident has

fishes. Has your brother or the cat been meddling? Or has the last novel been too moving?. Miss Hard. No; nothing of all this. I have been threatened-I can scarce get it out-I have been threatened with a lover.

Miss Nev. And his name-
Miss Hard. Is Marlow.

Miss Nev. Indeed!

Miss Nev. He's a very singular character, I assure you. Among women of reputation and virtue, he is the modestest man alive; but his acquaintance give him a very different character among creatures of another stamp: you understand me?

Miss Hard. An odd character, indeed! I shall never be able to manage him. What shall I do? Pshaw, think no more of him, but trust to occurrences for success. But how goes on your own affair, my dear? has my mother been courting you for my brother Tony, as usual?

Miss Nev. I have just come from one of our agreeable tete-a-tetes. She has been saying a hundred tender things, and setting off her pretty monster as the very pink of perfection.

Miss Hard. And her partiality is such, that she actually thinks him so. A fortune like yours is no small temptation. Besides, as she has the sole management of it, I'm not surprised to see her unwilling to let it go out of the family.

Miss Nev. A fortune like mine, which chiefly consists in jewels, is no such mighty temptation. But, at any rate, if my dear Hastings be but constant, I make no doubt to be too hard for her at last. However, I let her suppose that I am in love with her son, and she never once dreams that my affections are fixed upon another

Miss Hard. My good brother holds out stoutly. I could almost love him for hating you so.

Miss Nev. It is a good natured creature at bottom, and I'm sure would wish to see me married to any body but himself. But my aunt's bell rings for our afternoon's walk round the improvements. Allons! Courage is necessary, as our affairs are critical.

Miss Hard. Would it were bed time, and all were well! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-An alehouse room.

Several shabby fellows, with punch and tobacco. TONY at the head of the table, a little higher than the rest: A mallet in his hand.

Omnes. Hurrea, hurrea, hurrea! bravo!

1st Fel. Now, gentlemen, silence for a song.