"ecod! he can't do better than marry her: fo, fend " for the parfon, become Mrs. Gabriel Lackbrain; " and then, you know, I bid you good-bye for life.” Craft. Well, and what did she say then?

Gabr. Why, fhe laughed, and talked of her accomplishments; reminded me of her finished education, and spoke a good deal of one Meters and one Tafio.

Craft. Pha! it's the fame perfon-Metaftafio. -Dolt! blockhead!

Gabr. Blockhead! how could I help it? didn't you bring me up among the mountains? And fo I told her-fays I-" I know nothing of either of "these Roman warriors, and I don't fee why I "fhould: Latin won't teach me to fow barley, or "Greek to fatten a pig."-Says I, "I'm no foreigner; I can write and read my native language; and I wifh, with all my foul, your great "fcholars could fay the fame."

Craft. You did, did you?-then she laughed again, I fuppofe?

Gabr. She did confumedly. But to conclude, fhe told me, though the preferred the country, I might vifit London; and that her coufin, the rich baronet, would introduce me to all the first circles. This, you may be fure, won my heart; for I had always a buckish turn, you know. So we ftruck the match; fhe fent for the clergyman

Craft. Sent for the clergyman!-We'll go directly, and, by way of fettlement, read the letter of Mr. Primitive. Odfheart! fhe's the very woman he'd felect; fo difgufted with London! fo devoted to the country!-Oh! fhe'll have a thousand charms for him;-and, what's better, fhe'll have more than twelve hundred for me (afide).-So, come, you rogue, come and be married.

B 4

Gabr.

Gabr. Aye, the fooner the merrier, I fay; for I do fo long to fee the baronet, and vifit London: and when I get there, dang it, how I'll astonish these cocknies! I know they look upon us countrymen as a parcel of comeys and doeyes, that can only clap our hands upon our hearts and talk of confcience, innocence, and nature: but they shan't wrong us in that manner; they fhan't fuppofe us fo much behindhand; for I'll convince them there's more love-making in our woods than in their fquares; more drinking in our alehoufes than in their taverns; and for fpeculating, and fhaking a dice-box, you can fatisfy them about that you know, guardy.But now for the great lady."Come let us dance and fing, &c."

SCENE-A Room in the Hotel.

Enter CLIFFORD and WAITER.

[Exeunt.

Clif. You're fure there's no fuch person just

arrived?

Wait. I'm fure there's no lady in the house of that defcription: but if fuch a one fhould arrive, you may depend on the earlieft intelligence from the best of waiters in the best of hotels in the best of watering places.

Clif. That's right; and here's an earnest of my future bounty (giving him money). Be wary now, for my existence depends upon recovering her. I came from London in purfuit of her, and the certainly took this very road. But, in the mean time, Jay the cloth in the dining-room (opens door in back Scene). Why, here's company. (SIR HARRY

TORPID difcovered fitting in a chair, with a newfpaper in his band, faft afleep. A table clofe to him, with wine and glaffes on it.)

Wait. No, Sir, the gentleman's juft going. He came here about two hours ago, intending to enjoy our fea breezes for a fortnight; but, as ufual, he is already tired, and will be off again in a moment.

Clif. Indeed!-Why, 'tis Sir Harry Torpid. Wait. It is, Sir; and, between ourselves, I fancy he is a little tired of himself; for he bribes the poftboys to drive like madmen till he gets to a place; and, when there, behold how it ends!-in fnoring over a newspaper, whilft the fame boys are preparing to drive him equally faft back again.

Clif. Yes, I've known him long; and the cause of all this is, his having nothing to do.-But he wakes; I'll talk to him; leave us.

[Exit WAITER. Sir H. (yawning and ftretching out his arms.) Aw! aw!-ftill in this infernal place! ftill alone! ftill-(rifes)-Damme! I'll be off. I'll try Tunbridge again: to be fure I've been there already twice this fummer: however, anywhere but where I am. Here, waiter, a chaife and four again.

Clif. What, Sir Harry, have you forgottenSir H. What, Jack! Jack Clifford !—my dear fellow, you're just come in time; I was reduced to the last extremity; had taken my after-dinner fnooze, read the advertisements twice over; and, except paying the bill and wrangling with the waiter, hadn't a fingle hope on earth.-But now ! fit down and finish the bottle, my boy.

Clif. Why, you're a strange creature, Sir Harry! but yesterday I faw you in Pall Mall.

Sir H. Yes, and very likely there you may fee me again to-morrow. I'm fick to death of thefe

fea-port towns. One goes to the libraries, the card-rooms, and the tea-rooms; and nothing interefts, nobody feems alive.-Upon my foul, Jack, if thefe fea cormorants didn't continually compel me to put my hands in my pockets, I fhoudn't know that I was alive myfelf. But you, what is your pursuit here?

Clif. The moft tormenting one in the worldlove, Sir Harry.

Sir H. Love! Oh, how I envy you! what would I give to be in love!

Clif. Don't, don't think of it; it has made me miferable.

Sir H. So much the better; that's what I want: and if I could but work myself into a most unhappy paffion-no matter with whom-were fhe ever fo ugly or ill-tempered, it would ftill anfwer my purpose.

Clif. What! would a fcolding wife answer your purpose ?

Sir H. To be fure: inftead of fitting alone in a coffee-room, picking my teeth, or yawning over a newspaper; think of having a fine, active, cheerful companion, who will fcowl at me, fnarl at me, and fet my whole foul in a delicious ferment!-then, Jack, after an hour of delightful quarrelling, what fay you to the reconciliation, to the kiffing and making up again?-And, to complete the charming fire-fide, call to mind half a dozen little Sir Harries, think of their noife, their nurfing, their expence.-Oh! all this must produce agitation; and, were I as miferable as you are, I fhould be the happiest dog in England.

Clif. Pha! you know not what you talk of. Do you call it happinefs to lofe the object you are attached to?

Sir H. Lofe her!

Clif. Yes, that is my cafe. My aunt, Mrs. Clifford, lately brought with her from Switzerland a lady of the name of Belford. At first fight I loved her; but, on declaring my affection, she treated me with fcorn: however, I perfifted; and, aided by my aunt's entreaties, hoped for fuccefs; when fuddenly the left the house, and fled I know not whither.

Sir H. What, and you purfued her?

Clif. Yes; but hitherto in vain: curfed chance! I can gain no tidings of her.

Sir H. All the better again: the purfuit, my boy, the purfuit is every thing; and I only wish fomebody would run away from me.

Clif. 'Sdeath! this trifling is ridiculous: were I as weary of myfelf, would I not feek out fome employment?

Sir H. I have; I have tried every thing; devoted half my life, and nearly all my fortune, to racing, hunting, drinking, gaming, volunteering; in short, at the age of thirty, I've fo outlived every enjoyment, that if I can't contrive to fall desperately in love, that I may run after fomebody-to be fure, there's one other profpect-my creditors grow fo preffing, that probably I fhall have to run away from fomebody; and then, you know, I'm comfortable; for, next to love, certainly debt is most likely to keep a man in hot water.

Enter WILLIAM.

Clif. Well, Sir, have you been more fortunate than your master? have you any news of the runaway?