« PreviousContinue »
neck first. This sharp north wind-Antoine, bring down
muff. Col. Ay, do, and his great-coat.
Lady M. Margaret, some hartshorn. My dear Mr. Oldboy, why. will you fly out in this way, when you know how it shocks my tender nerves ?
Col. Madam, its enough to make a man mad.
Jes. I should be glad to know, that's all, what single circumstance in my conduct, carriage or figure, you can possibly find fault with-Perhaps I may be brought to reform--Prythee, let me hear from your own mouth, then, seriously, what it is you do like, and what it is you do not like?
Good Sir, I will tell you without any jest,
À coccomb, a fop,
A dainty milk-sop;
A thing full of prate,
French powder-puff: And now, sir, I fancy I've told you enough. [Exit. Jes. What's the matter with the Colonel, madam; does your ladyship know?
Lady M. Heigho! don't be surprised, my dear; it was the same thing with my late dear brother, Lord Jes. samy; they never could agree: that good-natured, friendly soul, knowing the delicacy of my coustitution, has often said, sister Mary, I pity you. Not but your father has good qualities, and, I assure you, I remember
him a very fine gentleman himself. In the year of the hard frost, one thousand seven hundred and thirty-nine, when he first paid his addresses to me, he was called
agreeable Jack Oldboy, though I married him without • the consent of your noble grandfather.'
Jes. I think he ought to be proud of me: I believe there's many a Duke, nay Prince, who would esteem themselves happy in having such a son
Lady M. Yes, my dear; but your sister was always your father's favourite: He intends to give her a prodi. gious fortune, and sets his heart upon seeing her a woman of quality
Jes. He should wish to see her look a little like a gentlewoman first. When she was in London last winter, I am told she was taken notice of by a,
But she wants air, maoner,
Lady M. And has not a bit of the genius of our family, and I never knew a woman of it, but herself, (without. I have tried her. About three years ago, I
set her to translate a little French song: I found she had not even an idea of versification; and she put down love and joy for rhyme so I gave her over.
Jes. Why, indeed, she appears to have more of the 'Thalestris than the Sappho about her.'
Lady M. Well, my dear, I must go and dress myself, though I protest I am fitter for bed than
coach. And condescend to the Colonel a little-Do, my dear, if it be only to oblige your mamma.
[Exit. • Jes. Let me consider-I am going to visit a country Baronet here, who would fain prevail upon me to marry his daughter: the old gentleman has heard of my parts and understanding; Miss, of my figure and address.But, suppose I should not like her when I see her? Why, positively, then I will not have her; the treaty's at
can end, and, sans compliment, we break up the con
gress. But, won't that be cruel, after having suffered #
her to flatter herself with hopes, and shewing myself « to her. She's a strange Dowdy, I dare believe: how.
ever, she brings provision with her for a separate main6 tenance.
Antoine, appretez la toilette. I am going to spend a (sad day; that I perceive already; I wish it was over; 6 I dread it as much as a general election.
6.When a man of fashion condescends
To herd among his country friends,
6 Must suit their rustic notions.
Then a consort to take,
For my family's sake,
SCENE II. A Study in Sir John Flowerdale's House :
two Chairs and a Table, with Globes and Mathematical Instruments. Clarissa enters, followed by Jenny.
Clar. May Heav'n's kind hand protect me,
Assist, support, direct me;
Relieve a heart opprest :
And let me, let me rest.
Jen. Pardon me, madam, there is something ails you, indeed. What signifies all the grandeur and riches in this
ng up here.
world, if they can't procure one content. I am sure it vexes me to the heart, so it does, to see such a dear, sweet, worthy young lady, as you are, pining yourself to death.
Clar. Jenny, you are a good girl, and I am very much obliged to you for feeling so much on my account; but in a little time, I hope, I shall be easier.
Jenny. Why, now, here to day, madam--for certain, you ought to be merry to-day, when there's a fine gentleman coming to court you; but, if you like any one else better, I am sure, I wish you had him,-heartily I do.
Clar. Suppose, Jenny, I was so unfortunate as to like a man without my father's approbation-would you wish me to marry him?
Jen. I wish you married to any one, madam, that could make you happy:
. Clar. Heigho!
Jen. Madam! madam! yonder's Sir John and Mr. Lionel on the terrace. I believe they are con Poor, dear Mr. Lionel, he does not seem to be in over great spirits either. To be sure, madam, it's no business of mine; but, I believe, if the truth was known, there are those in the house who would give more than ever I shall be worth, or any the likes of me, to prevent the marriage of a certain person that shall be nameless.
Clar. What do you mean? I don't understand you. Jen. I hope you are not angry,
madam ? Clar. Ah! Jenny• Jen. Madam! do you think when Mr. Lionel's a clergyman, he'll be obliged to cut off his hair? I'm sure 6 it will be a thousand pities, for it is the sweetest colour, 6 and looks the nicest put up in a queue and your great • pudding-sleeves ! they'll quite spoil his shape, and the
fall of his shoulders. Well! madam, if I was a lady
of large fortune, Mr. Lionel should not be a parson, if ( I could help it.
Clar. - No reflections upon the clergy, Jenny. No ' order of men, no profession, ought to be considered as ( more honourable and important.' I am going into my dressing-room--It seems then Mr. Lionel is a great faa vourite of yours; but pray Jenny have a care how you VOL. III.
talk in this manner to any one else. Jen. Metalk! madam-I thought you knew me better;
dear lady, keep up your spirits. I'm sure I have dressed you to-day as nicely as hands and pins can make you.
I'm but a poor servant, 'tis true ma'am;
In grief would I sit? No, no, not a bit ;
To find what my liking could hit.
In my fancy there ran,
Yet, if I had regard,
It should go very hard,
Enter Sir John FLOWERDALE and LIONEL. Sir John. Indeed, Lionel, I will not hear of it. What! to run from us, all on a sudden, in this way ; and at such a time, too; the eve of my daughter's wedding, as I may call it, when your company must be doubly agreeable, as well as necessary to us? I am sure you have no studies at present that require your attendance at Oxford: I must therefore insist on your putting such thoughts out of your head.
Lion. Really, Sir, I have been so long from the uni. versity, that it is time for me to think of
returning. It is true, I have no absolute studies; but yet, sir, I shall be obliged to
you will give me leave to go. Sir John. Come, come, my dear Lionel, I have for some time observed a more than ordinary gravity growing upon you,
and I am not to learn the reason of it: I know, to minds, serious and well inclined, like yours, the sacred functions you are about to embrace
Lion. Dear Sir, your goodness to me, of every kind, is so great, so unremitted! Your condescension, your friendly attentions—in short, Sir, I want words to express my sense of obligations
Sir John. Fie, fie, no more of them. By my last letters, I find, that my old friend the Rector still con