Hast. Well, but wasn't it the most fortunate thing in the world?

Mar. Oh! yes; very fortunate-a most joyful en-1] counter-but our dresses, George, you know, are in disorder-what if we should postpone the happiness till to-morrow?-To-morrow at her own house-it will be every bit as convenient-and rather more respectfulto-morrow let it be. [Offering to go. Miss Nev. By no means, sir. Your ceremony will displease her. The disorder of your dress will show the ardour of your impatience. Besides, she knows you are in the house, and will permit you to see her.

Mar. O the devil! how shall I support it? hem! hem! Hastings, you must not go. You are to assist me, you know. I shall be confoundedly ridiculous. Yet, hang it! I'll take courage. Hem!

Hast. Pshaw, man! it's but the first plunge, and all's over. She's but a woman, you know.

Mar. And of all women, she that I dread most to en

counter.

Enter Miss HARDCASTLE, as returned from walking. Hast. [Introducing them.] Miss Hardcastle, Mr. Marlow. I'm proud of bringing two persons of such merit together, that only want to know, to esteem each other.

Miss Hard. [Aside.] Now for meeting my modest gentleman with a demure face, and quite in his own manner. [After a pause, in which he appears very uneasy and disconcerted.] I'm glad of your safe arrival, sir-I'm told you had some accidents by the way.

Mar. Only a few, madam.

-Yes,

Yes, we had some.

madam, a good many accidents, but should be sorry

madam-or rather glad of any accidents-that are so agreeably concluded. Hem!

Hast. To him.] You never spoke better in your whole life. Keep it up, and I'll insure you the victory.

Miss Hard. I'm afraid you flatter, sir. You that have seen so much of the finest company, can find little entertainment in an obscure corner of the country.

Mar. [Gathering courage.] I have lived, indeed, in the world, madam; but I have kept very little company. F have been but an observer upon life, madam, while others were enjoying it.

Miss Nev. But that, I am told, is the way to enjoy it at last.

Hast. [To him.] Cicero never spoke better. Once more, and you are confirmed in assurance for ever.

Mar. [To him.] Hem! stand by me then, and when I'm down, throw in a word or two to set me up again. Miss Hard. An observer like you upon life, were, I fear, disagreeably employed, since you must have had

much more to censure than to approve.

Mar. Pardon me, madam. I was always willing to be amused. The folly of most people is rather an object of mirth than uneasiness.

I

Hast. To him.] Bravo, bravo! Never spoke so well in your whole life. Well, Miss Hardcastle, I see that you and Mr. Marlow are going to be very good company. believe our being here will but embarrass the interview. Mar. Not in the least, Mr. Hastings. We like your company of all things. [To him.] Zounds! George, sure you won't go? how can you leave us?

Hast. Our presence will but spoil conversation; so we'll retire to the next room, [To him.] You don't consider, man, that we are to manage a little tête-a-tête of our own. [Exeunt.

Miss Hard. [After a pause.] But you have not been

wholly an observer, I presume, sir: the ladies, I should hope, have employed some part of your addresses.

Mar. [Relapsing into timidity.] Pardon me, madam, I —I—I—as yet have studied-only-to-deserve them. Miss Hard. And that, some say, is the very worst way to obtain them.

Mar. Perhaps so, madam. But I love to converse only with the more grave and sensible part of the sex.-But I'm afraid I grow tiresome.

Miss Hard. Not at all, sir; there is nothing I like so much as grave conversation myself; I could hear it for ever. Indeed I have often been surprised how a man of sentiment could ever admire those light airy pleasures, where nothing reaches the heart.

Mar. It's a disease-of the mind, madam. In the variety of tastes, there must be some, who, wanting a relish--for-um-a-um.

Miss Hard. I understand you, sir. There must be some, who, wanting a relish for refined pleasures, pretend to despise what they are incapable of tasting.

Mar. My meaning, madam, but infinitely better expressed. And I can't help observing--a

Miss Hard. [Aside.] Who could ever suppose this fellow impudent upon such occasions. [To him.] You were going to observe, sir

Mar. I was observing, madam-I protest, madam, I forget what I was going to observe.

Miss Hard. [Aside.] I vow and so do I. [To him.] You were observing, sir, that in this age of hypocrisysomething about hypocrisy, sir.

Mar. Yes, madam. In this age of hypocrisy, there are few, who, upon strict inquiry, do not-a--a--a

Miss Hard. I understand you perfectly, sir. Mar. [Aside.] Egad! and that's more than I do myself. Miss Hard. You mean, that in this hypocritical age there are few that do not condemn in public, what they practise in private; and think they pay every debt to virtue when they praise it.

Mar. True, madam; those who have most virtue in their mouths, have least of it in their bosoms.

sure I tire you, madam.

But I'm

Miss Hard. Not in the least, sir; there's something so agreeable and spirited in your manner, such life and force-pray, sir, go on.

Mar. Yes, madam.

I was saying--that there are some occasions--when a total want of courage, madam, destroys all the--and puts us--upon a-a-a

Miss Hard. I agree with you entirely; a want of courage upon some occasions assumes the appearance of ignorance, and betrays us when we most want to excel. I beg you'll proceed.

Mar. Yes, madam. Morally speaking, madam-but I see Miss Neville expecting us in the next room. I would not intrude for the world.

Miss Hard. I protest, sir, I never was more agreeably entertained in all my life. Pray go on.

Mar. Yes, madam, I was-but she beckons us to join her. Madam, shall I do myself the honour to attend you? Miss Hard. Well, then, I'll follow.

Mar. [Aside.] This pretty smooth dialogue has done

for me.

[Exit.

Miss Hard. [Alone.] Ha! ha! ha! Was there ever such a sober sentimental interview? I'm certain he scarce looked in my face the whole time. Yet the fellow, but for his

He has

unaccountable bashfulness, is pretty well too. good sense, but then so buried in his fears, that it fatigues one more than ignorance. If I could teach him a little confidence, it would be doing somebody that I know of a piece of service. But who is that somebody? That, faith, is a question I can scarce answer. [Exit.

Enter Tony and Miss NEVILLE, followed by Mrs. HARDCASTLE and HASTINGS.

Tony. What do you follow me for, cousin Con? I wonder you're not ashamed to be so very engaging.

Miss Nev. I hope, cousin, one may speak to one's own relations, and not be to blame.

Tony. Ay, but I know what sort of a relation you war' to make me though; but it won't do. I tell you, cousin Con, it won't do; so I beg you'll keep your distance; I want no nearer relationship.

[She follows, coquetting him to the back scene. Mrs. Hard. Well! I vow, Mr. Hastings, you are very entertaining. There's nothing in the world I love to talk of so much as London, and the fashions, though I was never there myself.

Hast. Never there! You amaze me! From your air and manner, I concluded you had been bred all your life either at Ranelagh, St. James's, or Tower Wharf.

Mrs. Hard. O! sir, you're only pleased to say so. We country persons can have no manner at all. I'm in love with the town, and that serves to raise me above some of our neighbouring rustics; but who can have a manner, that has never seen the Pantheon, the Grotto Gardens, the Borough, and such places, where the nobility chiefly resort? All I can do is, to enjoy London at second-hand.