of a father thought I was not good enough; but I mounted a garden wall, notwithstanding their chevaux-de-frize of broken glass bottles, took her out of a three pair of stairs window, and brought her down a ladder in my arms. By the way, she would have squeezed through a cat-hole to get at me And I would have taken her out of the Tower of London, if it had been surrounded with three regiments of guards. Diana. But surely, papa, you would not persuade the gentleman to such a proceeding as this is; consider the noise it will make in the country; and if known to be the adviser and abettor you are Col. Why, what do I care? I say, if he takes my advice he'll run away with her, and I'll give him all the assistance I can. Har. I am sure, Sir, you are very kind; and, to tell you the truth, I have more than once had the very scheme in my head, if I thought it was feasible, and knew how to go about it. Col. Feasible, and knew how to go about it! The thing's feasible enough, if the girl's willing to go off with you, and you have spirit sufficient to undertake it. Har. O, as for that, Sir, I can answer. Diana. What, Sir, that the lady will be willing to go off with you? Har. No, madam, that I have spirit enough to take her, if she is willing to go; and thus far I dare venture to promise, that between this and to-morrow morning, I will find out whether she is or not. Col. So he may; she lives but in this county; and tell her, Harman, you have met with a friend who is inclined to serve you. You shall have my post-chaise at a minute's warning; and if a hundred pieces will be of any use to you, you may command 'em. Har. And you are really serious, Sir? Col. Serious? and why not? I have put twenty young fellows in the way of getting girls that they never would have thought of- And bring her to my house. Dian. Well, but, my dear papa, upon my word, you have a great deal to answer for-Suppose it was your own case to have a daughter in such circumstances, would you be obliged to any one Col. Hold your tongue, hussey, who bid you put in your oar? However, Harman, I don't want to set you upon any thing; 'tis no affair of mine, to be sure; I only give you advice, and tell you how I would act if I was in your place. Har. I assure you, Sir, I am quite charmed with the advice; and since you are ready to stand my friend, I am determin'd to follow it. Col. You are?— Har. Positively. Col. Say no more then; here's my hand-You understand me-No occasion to talk any further of it at present-When we are alone-Dy, take Mr. Harman into the drawing-room, and give him some tea.-I say, Harman, mum. TO Har. O, Sir. C CH take ture tell line farf Col. What do you mean by your grave looks, mistress? AIR. 'How terribly vext the old fellow will be, When he finds you have snapt up his daughter; 'But shift as he will, leave the matter to me, 'And I warrant you soon shall have caught her. By bolts and by locks, Shall an ill-natur'd fox, 'Keep his daughter confin'd If to wed she's a mind? rize 'He ought to be set in the stocks. 'And if we can't bite him, 6 Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. [Exit. 'Diana. Sir, I desire to know what gross acts of imFould Prudence you have ever discovered in me, to authoyou in this licence, or make you imagine I should ( not shew such marks of my resentment as your mon6 strous treatment of me deserves ? Har. Nay, my dear Diana, I confess I have been rather too bold-but consider, I languished to see 6 you; and when an opportunity offered to give me that pleasure, without running any risque either of your quiet or reputation, how hard was it to be resisted? "Tis true, I little thought my visit would be attended with such happy consequences as it now seems to pro⚫mise. • Diana. What do you mean? 'Har. Why, don't you see your father has an incli• nation I should run away with you, and is contriving 'the means himself. Diana. And do you think me capable of concurring? Do you think I have no more duty? 'Har. I don't know that, madam; I am sure, your refusing to seize such an opportunity to make me happy, 'gives evident proofs that you have very little love. 'Diana. If there is no way to convince you of my love but by my indiscretion, you are welcome to consider it in what light you please. 'Har. Was ever so unfortunate a dog! 'Diana. Very pretty this, indeed! but is it possible you can be in earnest ? "Har. It is a matter of too much consequence to jest about. Diana. And y you seriously think I ought Har. You are sensible there are no hopes of your 'father's coolly and wittingly consenting to our mar( riage; chance has thrown into our way a whimsical 'method of surprising him into a compliance-and why should not we avail ourselves of it? 'Diana. And so you would have me— Har. No, madam, no; I have done. 'Diana. And are you positively in this violent fuss ' about the matter, or only giving yourself airs? Hur. You may suppose what you think proper, 'madam. • Diana. Well, come; let us go into the drawing T " room and drink tea, and afterwards we'll talk of ' matters. 'Har. I won't drink any tea. 'Diana. Why so ? 'Har. Because I don't like it. 'Diana. Not like it! Ridiculous! ' Har. I wish you would let me alone. Har. I won't. • Diana. Well, will you, if I consent to act as you ' please? Har. I don't know whether I will or not. • Diana. Ha, ha, ha! poor Harman!' AIR. "Come then, pining, peevish lover, 'You should still seem pleas'd yourselves. [Exit, 'Har. Say'st thou so, my girl! Then I will drive 'old Truepenny's* humour to the uttermost.-Let me 'consider what ill consequence can possibly attend it? -The design is his own, as in part will be the execu' tion. He may perhaps be angry when he finds out the deceit.-Well, he deceives himself; and faults we ' commit ourselves, we seldom find much difficulty in 6 pardoning. [Exit. "Ha, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, true-penny * ? "Hamlet, A. I. S. v." "This word as well as some of Hamlet's former exclamations, we find in the Malecontent, 1604: "Illo, ho, ho, ho; art there old True-penny ?" STEEVENS. SCENE II. Clarissa's Dressing-Room, on one side is a Table with a Glass, Boxes, and two Chairs. DIANA enters before JESSAMY. Diana. Come, brother, I undertake to be mistress of the ceremony upon this occasion, and introduce you to your first audience.Miss Flowerdale is not here, I perceive; but no matter. Jes. A pretty elegant dressing-room this; but our builders, or architects, as they call themselves, are all errant stone-masons; not one of them knows the situation of doors, windows, or chimnies; which are as essential to a room as eyes, nose, and mouth, to a countenance. Now, if the eyes are where the mouth should be, and the nose out of proportion and its place, quelle horrible phisiognomy! Diana. My dear brother, you are not come here as a virtuoso, to admire the house; but as a suitor, to address the lady to whom it belongs. Shew, I beseech you, a little more love, and tell me how do you like Miss Flowerdale?-don't you think her very handsome. Jes. Pale-but that I am determined she shall remedy; for as soon as we are married, I will make her put on rouge-Let me see has she got any in her boxes here? Veritable toilette a l'Angloise. Nothing but a bottle of Hungary-water, two or three rows of pins, and a little bole-armoniac, by way of toothpowder. Diana. Brother, I would fain give you some advice upon this occasion, which may be of service to youYou are now going to entertain a young lady-Let me prevail upon you to lay aside those airs, on account of which some people are impertinent enough to call you a coxcomb; for I am afraid, she may be apt to think you a coxcomb too, as, I assure you, she is very capable of distinguishing. Jes. So much the worse for me.-If she is capable of |