Sir P. No, no, Mr. Demur-'tis neither Lucy, nor Dolly, uor any such foolish name. Lucy Clarus, indeed! The real names are George Belville and Arabella Moreland, so down with 'em, and hold your, tongue, Lady Positive.

Lady. 'Tis you who should be silent, Sir Peter. I am absolutely ashamed of you. Your ignorance is astonishing!

She

Dem. You misconceive my Lady, Sir Peter. would only insinuate that we have got upon wrong ground; that we have no right in us, as we say who study the law.

Sir P. Aye; but "might overcomes right," as we say who study the world. Eh, Master Demur?

Dem. Sometimes. But the experiment is a little dangerous. I can cite you a case, Anno primo Georgii II.

Sir P. (aside) O, the devil! If he comes to his lawcases, I shall never get rid of him. No, no, not now, my good friend—I will not trouble you now. Lady. He is in a precious humour. Come, Mr. Demur, we had better leave him to ponder on the case. [Exeunt LADY and DEMUR.

Sir P. They call me obstinate, tyrannical, dogmatical, and I know not what; but good discipline makes good soldiers, and if the head of a family would wish, to find respect, he must keep the lesser members of it in. a proper subordination. [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Lucy on one side, OLD HARCOURT on the other. Lucy. Ha! here comes old Mr. Harcourt, and to inquire, I warrant, after his dear.

Old. H. Well, Lucy, what news from the lovely Melissa? Any hopes?

Lucy. Why, Sir, I would not absolutely discourage you, and yet there is an obstacle-

2

Old H. An obstacle? What obstacle? It shall be

instantly removed.

Lucy. That may be rather difficult, sir. tion is to your age: but we shall be able to believe.

Her objecget over it, I

Old H. My good girl! And were you lavish in my praise? Did you set forth all my good qualities-the mildness, the tenderness of my disposition?

Lucy. O! yes, sir; and highly extolled your munificence. I boldly maintained that you have the spirit and generosity of a prince.

Old H. Aye, aye, and yet-however, you are evidently ardent in my cause-so, there's a shilling as a reward for your attentions to me, and when I have married Melissa, you shall have another.

Lucy. I really know not how to thank you, sir. But what was I saying?-O, the spirit aud generosity of a prince. (twirling the shilling in her hand.)

Old H. Say no more, say no more. I do not desire any particular acknowledgments. It is given for value received. You have shown a great deal of cleverness in the business; and I like to encourage merit.

Lucy (aside So it appears, indeed. (again playing with the shilling) The spirit and gen—

Old H. Well, well, but there was no occasion to talk of that. It may fill her head with such an idea of extravagance that

an

Lucy. Extravagance! O, not at all, sir, as you shall judge. Here are the conditions on which she is willing to become your wife. (reads a paper) A country-seat, elegant town-house, a coach and chariot for her own use, a thousand a-year pin-money, and that her jointure, as she expects, no, no, fears-aye, fears was the word-as she fears, I say, that she may one day become a widow; that her jointure shall be settled at three thousand a year more, Nothing extravagant here, I think-moderate as one could wish.

Old H. Moderate! why zounds, I don't expend above five hundred a year, and yet I have every thing as comfortable, aye, and as convenient too

Lucy. Comfortable and convenient! O, lud, lud, you haven't a proper notion of things. Your lady, sir, has

taste, a truly fine taste. She will introduce you to the beau monde. You will have colonels and captains at your breakfast table

Old H. (aside) Ay, and at my dinner table too

Lucy. O, there's another thing. She says you must positively purchase a title.

Old H. A what? a title?

Lucy. Yes, sir, a title. She wishes you to be made a Lord; but if that can't be managed (though its pretty easy now-a-days) why she'll be content with a baronetage.

Old H. Zounds! has she a mind to ruin me before marriage. Why, what the devil

Lucy. Ruin! what a word! Lord, sir, one would imagine you lived in Cheapside, and that you were fearful of hurting your credit, or your character.

Old H. Heyday! how the girl prates-why, zooks, mistress, is no one but the trader, think you, solicitous about his credit? his character ?

Lucy. Certainly not, sir. Did you ever hear a man of fashion talk about his credit? his character? O dear, sir, there's no such word in the fine gentleman's vocabulary, believe me. But you are alarmed, I find, at the expense. Suppose we compound the matter with her, and make you a simple knight.

Old H. Yes, and a damned simple one I should be.

Lucy. O fye, sir. You who are so greatly admired by your mistress. What a charming fellow! exclaimed she, so sprightly, so gallant, and then he says so many soft things

Old H. Soft things--yes, I was always famous for those every body knows that.

Lucy. But I had nearly forgot. Above all she insists→→ O, lud, as I live and breathe here comes Captain More

ton.

Old H. All the better. I mean to consult him on the business.

[Enter YOUNG HARCOURT.] He will favor me with his opinion like a true friend-I am sure he will.

Har. That you may depend on, sir. My regard for honest Jack will prompt me to that.

Lucy. Well then, sir, above all things she insiste

that on some pretence or other, you immediately disinherit your son.

Old H. What, Jack? Disinherit Jack-no, no. Yet he has been loug in India, and by this time, I suppose, is as rich as Cræsus. But then if he should return, as many an honest fellow has done, no richer that he went? Aye, that may be, faith-no, no, I can never think of disinheriting Jack, no, no.

Lucy. Mighty well, sir. Then you must think no more of the lady

Old H. But how the deuce, and with any show of reason, can I carry it in the eye of the world?

Lucy. In the eye of the world-O, is that all, sir? Why, let me see: I think we might-but then you must handsomely reward me. I think-that is, if you and I were to lay our heads together, sir-yes, I really think we might I trump up something about his illegitimacy. You take me, sir?

Old H.

legitimacy! Why what the devil! Set about bastardizing my son.

Lucy. Pardon me, sir, but you express the thing a little too rudely. There's nothing uncommon in the practice, believe me; and as you are to be so great a gainer by your marriage with Melissa, why

Old H. Gainer! pho, pho, you mistake the matter entirely. Sir Peter has insisted, on account of the largeness of my estates, that the lady's fortune shall be settled wholly on herself.

Lucy. I know, I know. But I am speaking of the happiness you are to gain, and not of the money. Merciful heaven! what is fortune, what is wealth, when compared with the possession of so beauteous a creature.

Old H. Why yes-but then to stigmatise his mother, and my wife as a

Lucy. Hold, hold,-no ugly expressions, I desire. In my ardor to serve you, I did not sufficiently consider the consequences. But stay, Sir, stay. There is another, and perhaps a better way to bring the matter about; you may remember, Sir, that at the birth of your son,-of honest Jack, (winks at Har.) my mother was the nurse. Now with her assistance-and I am very confident she would be ever ready to do a good-natured thing, with her assist

ance, I say, it would not be very difficult to prove him to be a changeling. You conceive me, Sir?

Har. (aside) The jade! She has a mind to prove the old gentleman a changeling, it would seem. However, as the girl has only my success with Melissa in view, 1 will at present submit to her humor. She has much vivacity, with a cunning which fits her admirably for the management of an amour. It may not be amiss, at the same time, to see how my honored father will behave on this notable proposition.

Lucy. There, Sir,-you find how perfectly, how completely can manage for you.-Your mistress will be gratified the honor of yourself and lady will be nicely preserved, (which, it is true, would not have been the case in what I first propounded to you,) while the world, which you are so much afraid of, will, instead of blaming, highly commend you, for thus getting rid of a seemingly supposititious child.

Old. H. Why, you are an admirable contriver, Mrs. Lucy-an excellent plotter, I must confess. But your health and spirits are such, that every thing is easy to you, I suppose.

Lucy. Health and spirits! alas! Sir, how little do you know me. A year ago, indeed, Lucy was gayest of the gay; but ever since the moment, the unfortunate moment that the urchin wounded me-O, that urchin, that urchin. -I was walking in the field by the side of our house, Sir, when my eye first met

Old H. Poor girl, poor girl! you must be more upon your guard-the hedge-hog is a very–

Lucy. Sir! hedge-hog!-O, I comprehend, I recollect -" urchin or hedge-hog," the terms are used indifferently in Zoology.-But, Sir, ha! ha ha! you have made a curious kind of mistake here.-The urchin I was telling you of, is the little god of love.

Old H. The little god of love! then why the deuce didn't you say so--why do you go about with me thuswhy not speak to be understood?

Lucy. Lord, Sir,-1 spoke plain enough, I am sure(aside) This old man is so exceedingly ignorant, that there is scarcely any possibility of conversing with him. He knows no more about Cupid than I do of the man in the