don't you be fretting and vexing yourself; for I am mortally certain, she would lieverer see a toad than this Jessamy. Though, I must say, to my thinking, he's a very likely man; and a finer pair of eye-brows, and a more delicate nose, I never saw on a face. Lion. Oh! I am distracted. Jen. And why so? It is not beauty that always takes the fancy moreover, to let you know, if it was, I don't think him any more to compare to you, than a thistle is to a carnation: and so's a sign; for, mark my words, my Lady loves you as much as she dislikes him. Lion. What you tell me, Jenny, is a thing I neither merit nor expect: No, I am unhappy, and let me continue so-My most presumptuous thoughts shall never carry me to a wish that may affect her quiet, or give her cause to repent. Jen. That's very honourable of you, I must needs say! but, for all that, liking's liking, and one can't help it; and if it should be my Lady's case, it is no fault of your's. I am sure, when she called me into her dressing-room, before she went down to dinner, there she stood, with her eyes brim-full of tears; and so I fell a-crying, for company-and then she said she could not abide the chap in the parlour; and, at the same time, she bid me take an opportunity to speak to you, and desire you to meet her in the garden this evening, after tea; for she has something to say to you. Lion. Jenny, I see you are my friend; for which I thank you, though I know it is impossible to do me any service. Jen. I am your friend, indeed-but, I say, you won't forget to be in the garden now?—and, in the mean time, keep as little in the house as you can, for walls have eyes and ears; and, I can tell you, the servants take notice of your uneasiness, though I am always desiring them to mind their own business. Lion. Pray, have a care, Jenny; have a care, my dear girl-a word may breed suspicion. Jen. Psha! have a care yourself; it is you that breeds suspicion, sighing and pining about;-letting things get the better of you. Though to be sure, when I thinks with myself, being crost in love is a terrible thingThere was a young man in the town where I was born, made away with himself upon the account of it. Lion. Things shan't get the better of me, Jenny. Jen. No more they don't ought. And, once again, I say, fortune is thrown in your dish, and you are not to fling it out; my Lady's estate will be better than three bishopricks, if Sir John could give them to you.' Think of that, Mr. Lionel, think of that. Lion. Think of what? AIR. Oh, talk not to me of the wealth she possesses, Enter Colonel OLDBOY. [Exit. Col. Very well, my Lady, I'll come again to you presently, I am only going into the garden for a mouthful of air. Aha! my little Abigail! Here, Molly, Jenny, Betty! What's your name? Why don't you answer me, hussey, when I call you? Jen. If you want any thing, Sir, I'll call one of the footmen. Col. The footmen! the footmen! No. Come here you Jen. Who,-I, Sir? Col. Why, here's money for you. What are you afraid of? I'll take you into my protection; you shall go and live at one of my tenant's houses. Jen. I wonder you are not ashamed, Sir, to make an honest girl any such proposal; you that have a worthy gentlewoman, nay, a lady, of your own.-To be sure, she's a little stricken in years; but why shou❜dn't she grow elderly as well as yourself?——— Col. Why, you pert baggage, you don't know me. Jen. Yes, yes, I know you well enough, and your character's well known all over the country,— Col. What, then, people say Jen. Indeed, they talk very bad of you; and, whatever you may think, Sir, though I'm in a menial station Col. Well, come, let me know now, how does your young lady like my son? Jen. You want to pump me, do you? I suppose you would know whether I can keep my tongue within my teeth? Col. She doesn't like him then? Jen. I don't say so, Sir-Isn't this a shame now?— I suppose to-morrow or next day it will be reported that Jenny has been talking-Jenny said that and t'otherBut here, Sir, I ax you, Did I tell you any such thing? Col. Why, yes, you did. Jen. I!-how can you-But here comes my lady Enter Lady Mary, Diana, and Harman. [Exit, Lady Mary. Mr. Oldboy, won't you give me your hand to lead me up stairs, my dear?- -Sir, I am prodigiously obliged to you; I protest I have not been so well, I don't know when; I have had no return of my bilious complaint after dinner to-day; and eat so voraciously! Did you observe, Miss-The whole wing of a partridge!'-Doctor Arsenic will be quite astonished when he hears it; surely his new-invented medicine has done me a prodigious deal of service. Col. Ah! you'll always be taking one slop or other till you poison yourself. Lady M. It brought Sir Barnaby Drug from death's 'door, after having tried the Spa and Bristol waters 'without effect-It is good for several things, in many sovereign, as in colds and consumptions, and lowness of spirits; it corrects the humours, rectifies the juices, ' regulates the nervous system; creates an appetite; prevents flushings and sickness after meals; as also vain fears and head-achs; it is the finest thing in the 'world for an asthma; and no body that takes it is ever 'troubled with hysterics. Col. Give me a pinch of your ladyship's snuff. Lady M. This is a mighty pretty sort of man, Colonel, who is he? me. Col. A young fellow, my lady, recommended to Lady M. I protest he has the sweetest taste for poetry! He has repeated to me two or three of his own things; and I have been telling him of the poem my late brother, Lord Jessamy, made on the mouse that was drowned. Col. Ay, a fine subject for a poem. Lady M. The poem was as charming a morsel-' I 'heard the Earl of Punley say, who understood Latin, that it was equal to any thing in Catullus. Col. Well, how did you like your son's behaviour at ' dinner, madam? I thought the girl looked a little askew at him-Why, he found fault with every thing, ' and contradicted every body. Lady M. Softly-Miss Flowerdale, I understand, has desired a private conference with him. Col. What, Harman, have you got entertaining my ' daughter there? Come hither, Dy; has he been giving a history of the accident that brought him down you here? me Diana. No, papa, the gentleman has been telling 'Lady M. No matter what, Miss-'tis not polite to repeat what has been said. Col. Well, well, my lady, you know the compact ( we made; the boy is yours, the girl mine-Give me your hand, Dy. Lady M. Colonel, I have done.'-Pray, Sir, was there any news when you left London-any thing about the East Indies, the ministry, or politics of any kind? I am strangely fond of politics; but I hear nothing since my Lord Jessamy's death-He used to write to me all the affairs of the nation, for he was a very great politician himself. I have a manuscript speech of his in my cabinet―he never spoke it, but it is as fine a thing as ever came from man. Col. What is that crawling on your ladyship's petticoat? Lady M. Where! Where! Col. A spider, with legs as long as my arm. Lady M. Ah, don't let me look at it; I shall faint, I shall faint! A spider! a spider! a spider! [Runs off. Col. Hold; let her go; I knew the spider would set her a galloping, with her fuss about her brother my Lord Jessamy.-Harman, come here.-How do you like my daughter? Is the girl you are in love with as handsome as this? Har. In my opinion, Sir. Col. What! as handsome as Dy!-I'll lay you twenty pounds she has not such a pair of eyes.- -He tells me he's in love, Dy; raging mad for love, and by his talk, I begin to believe him. Diana. Now, for my part, papa, I doubt it very much; though, by what I heard the gentleman say just now within, I find he imagines the lady has a violent partiality for him; and yet he may be mistaken there too. Col. For shame, Dy, what do you mean? How can you talk so tartly to a poor young fellow under misfortunes? Give him your hand, and ask his pardon.Don't mind her, Harman.-For all this, she is as goodnatured a little girl as ever was born. Har. You may remember, Sir, I told you before dinner, that I had for some time carried on a private corres→ pondence with my lovely girl; and that her father, whose consent we despair of obtaining, is the great obstacle to our happiness. Col. Why don't you carry her off in spite of him, then?—I ran away with wife-ask my Lady Maryshe'll tell you the thing herself.-Her old conceited Lord my |