Pap. Votre serviteur tres humble.

[Exit OLD W. Y. Wild. So, Papillion, that difficulty is despatched. I think I am even with Sir James for his tattling.

Pap. Most ingeniously managed :-but are not you afraid of the consequence?

Y. Wild. I don't comprehend you. Pap. A future explanation between the parties. Y. Wild. That may embarrass: but the day is distant. I warrant I will bring myself off. Pap. It is in vain for me to advise.

Y. Wild. Why, to say truth, I do begin to find my system attended with danger. Give me your hand, Papillion-I will reform.

Pap. Ah, Sir!

Y. Wild. I positively will. Why this practice may in time destroy my credit.

Pap. That is pretty well done already. [Aside.] Ay, think of that, Sir.

Y. Wild. Well, if I don't turn out the merest dull matter-of-fact fellow-But, Papillion, I must scribble a billet to my new flame. I think her name is

Pap. Godfrey; her father, an India governor shut up in the strong room at Calcutta, left her all his wealth she lives near Miss Grantam, by Grosvenor-square.

Y. Wild. A governor!-Oh ho!-Bushels of rupees and pecks of pagodas, I reckon.-Well, I long to be rummaging-But the old gentleman will soon return: I will hasten to finish my letter. -But, Papillion, what could my father mean by a visit in which I am deeply concerned?

Pap. I can't guess.

Y. Wild. I shall know presently.-To Miss Godfrey, formerly of Calcutta, now residing in Grosvenor-square.-Papillion, I wont tell her a word of a lie.

Miss Gr. Why, I say, child, my fortune being in money, I have some in India-bonds, some in the bank, some on this loan, some on the other; so that if one fund fails, I have a sure resource in the rest.

Miss God. Very true.

Miss Gr. Well, my dear, just so I manage my love affairs. If I should not like this man-if he should not like me--if we should quarrel-if, if— or in short, if any of the ifs should happen, which you know break engagements every day; why, by this means I shall be never at a loss.

Miss God. Quite provident. Well, and pray, on how many different securities have you at present placed out your love?

Miss Gr. Three; the sober Sir James Elliot; the new America-man; and this morning I expect a formal proposal from an old friend of my father.

Miss God. Mr. Wilding?

Miss Gr. Yes: but I don't reckon much upon him for you know my dear, what can I do with an awkward, raw, college cub! Though, upon second thoughts, that may'nt be too bad neither; for as I must have the fashioning of him, he may be easily moulded to one's mind.

Enter a SERVANT.

Serv. Mr. Wilding, Madam.

Miss Gr. Show him in. [Exit SERVANT.]You need not go, my dear; we have no particular business.

Miss God. I wonder, now, what she calls particular business.

Enter OLD WILDING.

O. Wild. Ladies, your servant. I wait upon you, Madam, with a request from my son, that he may be permitted the honour of kissing your hand.

Miss Gr. Your son is in town then, Sir?

O. Wild. He came last night, Ma'am; and though but just from the university, I think I may venture to affirm, with as little the air of a pedant as

Miss Gr. I don't, Mr. Wilding, question the accomplishments of your son; and shall own toc, that his being descended from the old friend of my father is, to me, the strongest recommendation. O. Wild. You honour me, Madam.

Miss Gr. But, Sir, I have something to sayO. Wild. Pray, Madam, speak out; it is impossible to be too explicit on these important occasions.

Miss Gr. Why then, Sir, to a man of your wisdom and experience, I need not observe, that the loss of a parent to counsel and direct at this solemn crisis, has made a greater degree of personal prudence necessary in me.

O. Wild. Perfectly right, Ma'am.

Miss Gr. We live, Sir, in a very censorious world; a young woman can't be too much on her guard; nor should I choose to admit any man in the quality of a lover, if there was not at least a strong probability

I

O. Wild. Of a more intimate connection. hope, Madam, you have heard nothing to the disadvantage of my son.

Miss Gr. Not a syllable: but you know, Sir, there are such things in nature as unaccountable antipathies, aversions, that we take at first sight. I should be glad there could be no danger of that. O. Wild. I understand you, Madam: you shall have all the satisfaction imaginable: Jack is to meet me immediately; I will conduct him under your window; and if his figure has the misfortune to displease, I will take care his addresses shall never offend you. Your most obedient ser[Exit.

vant.

Miss Gr. Now, there is a polite, sensible, old father for you.

Miss God. Yes! and a very discreet, prudent daughter he is likely to have. Oh, you are a great hypocrite, Kitty.

Enter a SERVANT.

Ser. A letter for you, Madam. [To Miss GODFREY.] Sir James Elliot to wait on your ladyship. [To MISS GRANTAM. Exit. Miss Gr. Lord, I hope he wont stay long here. He comes, and seems entirely wrapped up in the dismals: what can be the matter now?

Enter SIR JAMES ELLIOT.

Sir J. In passing by your door, I took the liherty, Ma'am, of inquiring after your health. Miss Gr. Very obliging. I hope, Sir, you received a favourable account.

Sir J. I did not know but you might have caught cold last night.

Miss Gr. Cold! why, Sir, I hope I didn't sleep with my bed-chamber window open.

Sir J. Ma'am!

Miss Gr. Sir!

Sir J. Really?

Miss Gr. Really

Sir J. Finely supported. Now, Madam, de you know that one of us is just going to make a very ridiculous figure?

Miss Gr. Sir, I never had the least doubt of your talents for excelling in that way.

Sir J. Ma'am, you do me honour: but it does not happen to fall to my lot upon this occasion, however.

Miss Gr. And that is a wonder '—what, then, I am to be the fool of the comedy, I suppose? Sir J. Admirably rallied! But I shall dash the spirit of that triumphant laugh.

Miss Gr. I dare the attack. Come on, Sir.

Sir J. Know then and blush, if you are not as lost to shame as dead to decency, that I am no stranger to all last night's transactions. Miss Gr. Indeed!

Sir J. From your first entering the barge at Somerset-house, to your last landing at Whitehall. Miss Gr. Surprising!

Sir J. Cupids, collations, feasts, fireworks, all have reached me.

Miss Gr. Why, you deal in magic.

Sir J. My intelligence is as natural as it is infallible.

Miss Gr. May I be indulged with the name of your informer?

Sir J. Freely, Madam. Only the very indi vidual spark to whose folly you were indebted for this gallant profusion.

Miss Gr. But his name?
Sir J. Young Wilding.

Miss Gr. You had this story from him?
Sir J. I had.

Miss Gr. From Wilding!-That is amazing. Sir J. Oh ho! what, you are confounded at last! and no evasion, no subterfuge, no—

Miss Gr. Look ye, Sir James; what you can mean by this strange story, and very extraordinary behaviour, it is impossible for me to conceive; but if it is meant as an artifice to palliate your infidelity to me, less pains would have answered your purpose.

Sir J. Oh, Madam, I know you are provided.

Miss Gr. Matchless insolence! As you can't expect that I should be prodigiously pleased with the subject of this visit, you wont be surprised at my wishing it as short as possible.

Sir J. I don't wonder you feel pain at my presence; but you may rest secure you will have no interruption for me; and I really think it would

Sir J. Not but the variety of amusements, it must be owned, were a sufficient temptation.

Miss Gr. What can he be driving at now? Sir J. And pray, Madam, what think you of young Wilding? is not he a gay, agreeable, sprightly

Miss Gr. I never give my opinion of people I don't know.

Sir J. You don't know him!
Miss Gr. No.

each other. Your ladyship's servant. [Going.] -But, Madam, though your sex secures you from any farther resentment, yet the present ob ject of your favour may have something to fear.

[Erit.

Miss Gr. Very well. Now, my dear, I hope you will acknowledge the prudence of my plan. To what a pretty condition I must have been reduced, if my hopes had rested upon one lover alone!

Miss God. But you are sure that your method to multiply may not be the means to reduce the

Miss Gr. Most likely you did.

Miss Gr. Impossible !-Why, can't you discern that this flam of Sir James Elliot's is a mere fetch

Miss Gr. Set eyes upon him.

Miss God. And you never saw Wilding? Miss Gr. Never.

Miss God. There is some mystery in this. I have, too, here in my hand, another mortification that you must endure.

Miss Gr. Of what kind?

Miss God. A little allied to the last; it is from the military spark you met this morning.

Miss Gr. What are the contents?

Miss God. Only a formal declaration of love.
Miss Gr. Why, you did not see him.
Miss God. But it seems he did me.

Y. Wild. Time enough yet, Sir. O. Wild. I don't see that you are, lad, the last of our race, and I should be glad to see some probability of its continuance.

Y. Wild. Suppose, Sir, your were to repeat your endeavours; you have cordially my consent. O. Wild. No; rather too late in life for that experiment.

Y. Wild. In the college cant, I shall beg leave to tick a little longer.

O. Wild. Why, then, to be serious, son, this is the very business I wanted to talk with you about. In a word, I wish you married; and by providing the lady of that mansion for the purpose, I have proved myself both a father and

Miss God. Positively.

Miss Gr. Why, then, I shall refer you for an answer to a faithful councellor and most acemplished critic.

Miss God. Who may that be?

Miss Gr. The mirror upon your toilet.
Miss God. Perhaps you may differ in judg-

ment.

Miss Gr. Why, can glasses flatter?

Miss God. I can't say I think that necessary. Miss Gr. Saucy enough!-But come, child, don't let us quarrel upon so whimsical an occasion; time will explain the whole. You will favour me with your opinion of young Wilding at my window.

Miss God. I attend you.

Miss Gr. You will forgive me, my dear, the little hint I dropp'd; it was meant merely to serve you; for indeed, child, there is no quality so insufferable in a young woman as self-conceit and vanity.

Miss God. You are most prodigiously obliging. Miss Gr. I'll follow you, Miss. [Exit Miss GODFREY.] Pert thing!-She grows immoderately ugly. I always thought her awkward, but she is now an absolute fright.

Miss God. [Within.] Miss, Miss Grantam, your hero's at hand.

Miss Gr. I come.

Miss God. As I live, the very individual stran

peep.

Miss God. It is he, it is he, it is he! Enter OLD WILDING, YOUNG WILDING, and PAPILLION.

O. Wild. There, Marquis, you must pardon me; for though Paris be more compact, yet surely London covers a much greater quantity.-Oh, Jack, look at that corner-house; how d'ye like it? Y. Wild. Very well; but I don't see any thing extraordinary.

O. Wild. I wish, though, you were the master of what it contains.

Y. Wild. What may that be, Sir?

O. Wild. The mistress, you rogue you: a fine girl, and an immense fortune; ay, and a prudent, sensible wench into the bargain.

Y. Wild. Far be it from me to question your care; yet some preparation for so important a change O. Wild. Oh, I will allow you a week. Y. Wild. A little more knowledge of the world. O. Wild. That you may study at leisure. Y. Wild. Now all Europe is in arms, my design was to serve my country abroad.

O. Wild. You will be full as useful to it by recruiting her subjects at home.

Y. Wild. You are then resolved?
O. Wild. Fixed.

Y. Wild. Positively?
O. Wild. Peremptorily.
Y. Wild. No prayers-
O. Wild. Can move me.

Y. Wild. How the deuce shall I get out of this toil? [Aside.]-But suppose, Sir, there should be an insurmountable objection?

O. Wild. Oh, leave the reconciling that to me; I am an excellent casuist.

Y. Wild. But I say, Sir, if it should be impossible to obey your commands?

O. Wild. Impossible!-I don't understand you. Y. Wild. Oh, Sir!-but on my knees first let me crave your pardon.

O. Wild. Pardon! for what?

Y. Wild. I fear I have lost all title to your future favour.

O. Wild. Which way?

Y. Wild. I have done a deed

O. Wild. Let's hear it.

Y. Wild. At Abingdon, in the county of Berks. O. Wild. Well?

Y. Wild. I am.

O. Wild. What?

Y. Wild. Already married.
O. Wild. Married!

Pap. Married!

Y. Wild. Married.

O. Wild. And without my consent?

Y. Wild. Compelled; fatally forced. Oh, Sir, did you but know all the circumstances of my sad, sad story, your rage would soon convert itself to pity.

O. Wild. What an unlucky event!--but rise, and let me hear it all.

Y. Wild. The shame and confusion I now feel, render that task at present impossible: 1 must therefore rely for the relation on the good offices of this faithful friend.

Pap. Me, Sir! I never heard one word of the

matter.

O. Wild. Come, Marquis, favour me with the particulars.

Pap. Upon my vard, sare, dis affair has so shock me, dat I am almost as incapable to tell de tale as your son.-To YOUNG WILDING.]Dry-a your tears. What can I say, Sir. Y. Wild. Any thing.-Oh! [Seems to weep. Pap. You see, sare.

O. Wild. Your kind concern at the misfortunes of my family calls for the most grateful acknowledgment.

Pap. Dis is great misfortunes, sans doute. O. Wild. But if you, a stranger, are thus affected, what must a father feel?

Pap. Oh, beaucoup, a great deal more.

O. Wild. But since the evil is without a reine dy, let us know the worst at once. Well, Sir, at Abingdon ?

Pap. Yes, at Abingdon.

O. Wild. In the county of Berks?

Pap. Dat is right, in the county of Berks.
Y. Wild. Oh, oh!

O. Wild. Ah, Jack, Jack! are all my hopes then-Though I dread to ask, yet it must be known; who is the girl, pray, Sir?

Pap. De girl, Sir-[Aside to YOUNG WILDING.] -Who shall I say?

Y. Wild. Any body.

Pap. For de girl, I can't say upon my vard.
O. Wild. Her condition?

Pap. Pas grande condition: dat is to be sure. But dere is no help-[Aside to YOUNG WILDING.] -Sir, I am quite a-ground.

O. Wild. Yes, I read my shame in his reserve: some artful hussy.

Pap. Dat may be. Vat you call hussy? O. Wild. Or perhaps some common creature. But I'm prepared to hear the worst.

Pap. Have you no mercy?

Y. Wild. I'll step to your relief, Sir.
Pap. O lord, a happy deliverance.

Y. Wild. Though it is almost death for me to speak, yet it would be infamous to let the reputation of the lady suffer by my silence. She is, Sir, of an ancient house and unblemished character. O. Wild. That is something.

Y. Wild. And though her fortune may not be equal to the warm wishes of a fond father, yetO. Wild. Her name?

Y. Wild. Miss Lydia Sybthorp. O. Wild. Sybthorp-I never heard of the name. -But proceed.

Y. Wild. The latter end of last long vacation, I went with Sir James Elliot to pass a few days at a new purchase of his near Abingdon. There, at an assembly, it was my chance to meet and dance with this lady.

O. Wild. Is she handsome?

Y. Wild. Oh, Sir, more beautifulO. Wild. Nay, no raptures; but go on. Y. Wild. But to her beauty she adds politeness, affability, and discretion; unless she forfeited that character by fixing her affection on me.

O. Wild. Modestly observed.

Y. Wild. I was deterred from a public declaration of my passion, dreading the scantiness of her fortune would prove an objection to you. Some private interviews she permitted.

0. Wild. Was that so decent ?-But love and prudence, madness and reason.

Y Wild. One fatal evening, the twentieth of September, if I mistake not, we were in a retired room, innocently exchanging mutual vows, when her father, whom we expected to sup abroad, came suddenly upon us. I had just time to con ceal myself in a closet.

O. Wild. What, unobserved by him?

Y. Wild. Entirely. But as my ill stars would have it, a cat, of whom my wife is vastly fond, had a few days before lodged a litter of kittens in the same place; I unhappily trod upon one of the brood; which so provoked the implacable mother, that she flew at me with the fury of a tiger.

O. Wild. I have observed those creatures very fierce in defence of their young.

Pap. I shall hate a cat as long as I live.

Y. Wild. The noise roused the old gentleman's attention: he opened the door, and there discovered your son.

Pap. Unlucky.

Y. Wild. I rushed to the door; but fatally my boot slipt at the top of the stairs, and down 1 came tumbling to the bottom; the pistol in my hand went off by accident; this alarmed her threa brothers in the parlour, who with all their ser vants, rushed with united force upon me.

O. Wild. And so surprised you!

Y. Wild. No, Sir; with my sword I for some time made a gallant defence, and should have inevitably escaped, but a rawboned, overgrown, clumsy cook-wench, struck at my sword with a kitchen-poker, broke it in two, and compelled me to surrender at discretion; the consequence of which is obvious enough.

O. Wild. Natural. The lady's reputation, your condition, her beauty, your love, all combined to make marriage an unavoidable measure.

Y. Wild. May I hope, then, you rather think me unfortunate than culpable?

O. Wild. Why, your situation is a sufficient excuse: ali I blame you for is, your keeping it a secret from me. With Miss Grantam I shall make an awkward figure; but the best apology is the truth: I'll hasten and explain it to her allOh, Jack, Jack, this is a mortifying business. Y. Wild. Most melancholy.

[Érit OLD WILDING Pap. I am amazed, Sir, that you have so care fully concealed this transaction from me. Y. Wild. Hey-day: what, do you believe it

too?

Pap. Believe it! why, is not the story of the marriage true ?

Y. Wild. Not a syllable.

Pap. And the cat, and the pistol, and the poker? Y. Wild. All invention. And were you really taken in ?

Pap. Lord, Sir, how was it possible to avoid it?-Mercy on us! what a collection of circumstances have you crowded together!

Y. Wild. Genius; the mere effects of genius, Papillion. But to deceive you who so thoroughly know me!

Pap. But to prevent that for the future, could you not just give your humble servant a hint when you are bent upon bouncing. Besides, Sir, if you recollect your fixed resolution to reform

Y. Wild. Ay, as to matter of fancy, the mere sport and frolic of invention: but in case of necessity-why, Miss Godfrey was at stake, and I was forced to use all my finesse !

Pup. There are two things, in my conscience, my master will never want; a prompt lie, and a eady excuse for telling of it.

[Aside. Y. Wild. Hum! business begins to thicken upon us: a challenge from Sir James Elliot, and a rendezvous from the pretty Miss Godfrey. They shall both be observed, but in their order; therefore the lady first. Let me see-I have not been twenty hours in town, and I have already got a challenge, a mistress, and a wife; now if I can but get engaged in a chancery suit, I shall have my hands pretty full of employment. Come, Papillion, we have no time to be idle. [Exeunt. SCENE III.—An Apartment in MISS GRANTAM'S House.

Enter SERVANT, conducting in OLD WILDING. Ser. My lady, Sir, will be at home immediately: Sir James Elliot is in the next room waiting her return.

O. Wild. Pray, honest friend, will you tell Sir James that I beg the favour of a word with him? [Exit SERVANT.] This unthinking boy! Half the purpose of my life has been to plan this scheme for his happiness, and in one heedless hour has he mangled all.

Enter SIR JAMES ELLIOT.

Sir, I ask your pardon; but upon so interesting a subject I hope you will excuse my intrusion. Pray, Sir, of what credit is the family of the Sybthorps in Berkshire?

Sir J. Sir?

O. Wild. I don't mean as to property; that I am not so solicitous about; but as to their character. Do they live in reputation? Are they respected in the neighbourhood?

Sir J. The family of the Sybthorps!
O. Wild. Of the Sybthorps.

Sir J. Really I don't know, Sir.

O. Wild. Not know!

you?

O. Wild. Doubtless.

Sir J. Then I fancy you may make yourself

easy.

O. Wild. Why so?

Sir J. You have got, Sir, the most prudent daughter-in-law in the British dominions. O. Wild. I am happy to hear it.

Sir J. For, though she mayn't have brought you much, I'm sure she'll not cost you a farthing. O. Wild. Ay; exactly Jack's account. Sir J. She'll be easily jointured.

O. Wild. Justice shall be done to her. Sir J. No provision necessary for young children.

if she answers your account, not the daughter of O. Wild. No, Sir! why not?-I can tell you,

a duke

O. Wild. Why, Sir, do you think my son would dare to impose upon me? Sir J. He would dare to impose upon any body. Don't I know him?

Ó. Wild. What do you know?

Sir J. I know, Sir, that his narratives gain him more applause than credit; and that, whether from constitution or habit, there is no believing a syllable he says.

O. Wild. Oh, mighty well, Sir!-He wants to

O. Wild. How steadily he denies it! Well done, baronet! I find Jack's account was a just one. [Aside.] Pray, Sir James, recollect yourself. Sir J. It will be to no purpose.

O. Wild. Come, Sir, your motive for this affected ignorance is a generous but unnecessary proof of your friendship for my son; but I know

the whole affair.

Sir J. What affair?

O. Wild. Jack's marriage.
Sir J. What Jack?
O. Wild. My son Jack.
Sir J. Is he married?

O. Wild. Is he married? why you know he is.
Sir J. Not I, upon my honour.

O. Wild. Nay, that is going a little too far; but to remove all your scruples at once, he has owned it himself.

are forestalled: your novels wont pass upon me. Sir J. Sir!

blasted with the breath of a bouncer. O. Wild. Nor is the character of my son to be

Sir J. What is this?

you are as well known here as in your own O. Wild. No, no, Mr. Mandeville, it wont do; county of Hereford.

Sir J. Mr. Wilding, but that I am sure this extravagant behaviour owes its rise to some impudent impositions of your son, your age would scarce prove your protection.

O. Wild. Nor, Sir, but that I know my boy equal to the defence of his own honour, should he want a protector in this arm, withered and impotent as you may think it.

Enter Miss GRANTAM.