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for either, -I only want to speak a few words to you, and have company waiting for me without.

Fair. Without-won't their honours favour my poor hovel so far.

Lord A. No, Miller, let them stay where they are. -I find you are about marrying your daughter I know the great regard my mother had for her; and am satisfied, that nothing but her sudden death could have prevented her leaving her a handsome provision.

Fair. Dear, my lord, your noble mother, you, and all your family, have heaped favours upon favours on my poor

child. Lord A. Whatever has been done for her she has fully merited

Fair. Why, to be sure, my lord, she is a very good girl.

Lord A. Poor old man-but those are tears of satisfaction.—Here, Master Fairfield, to bring matters to a short conclusion, here is a bill of a thousand pounds.- Portion your daughter with what you think convenient of it.

Fair. A thousand pound, my lord ! Pray excuse me; excuse me, worthy sir; too much has been done already, and we have no pretensions

Lord A. I insist upon your takịng it.-Put it up, and say no more.

Fair. Well, my lord, if it must be so: but indeed, indeed

Lord A. In this I only fulfil what I am satisfied would please my mother. As to myself, I shall take upon me all the expenses of Patty's wedding, and have already given orders about it.

Fair. Alas, sir, you are too good, too generous ; but I fear we shall not be able to profit of your

kind intentions, unless you will condescend to speak a little to Patty.

Lord A. How speak !
Fair. Why, my lord, I thought we had pretty well

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Bless'd, who no false glare requiring,
Nature's rural sweets admiring,
Can, from grosser joys retiring,

Seek the simple and serene.

[Exit.

Enter MERVIN and FANNY.

Mervin. Yonder she is seated, and, to my wish, nost fortunately alone.--Accost her as I desired.

Theod. Heigh!

Fanny. Heaven bless you, my sweet lady-bless your honour's beautiful visage, and send you a good husband, and a great many of them!

Theod. A very comfortable wish, upon my word! who are you, child ?

Fanny. A poor gipsy, an please you, that goes about begging from charitable gentlemen and ladies. -]f you have e'er a coal, or bit of whiting in your pocket, l'll write you the first letter of your sweetheart's name-how many husbands

you

will have, and how many children, my lady: or, if you'll let me look at your line of life, I'll tell you

whether it will be long or short, happy or miserable.

Theod. Oh! as for that I know it already-you cannot tell me any good fortune, and, therefore, I'll hear none.-Go about your business.

Mer. Stay, madarn, stay—[Pretending to lift a Paper from the Ground]-you have dropped something-Fan, call the young gentlewoman back.

Fanny. Lady, you have lost
Theod. Pho, pho, I have lost nothing !

Mer. Yes, that paper, lady; you dropped it as you got up from the chair.–Fan, give it to her honour. Theod. A letter, with my address !

[Takes the Paper, and reads.

Dear Theodosia, Though the sight of me was so disagreeable to you, that you charged me never to approach you more, I hope my hand-writing can have nothing to frighten or disgust you. I am not far off ; und the person that delivers you this, can give you intelligence. Come hither, child; do you know any thing of the gentleman that wrote this?

Fanny. My lady

Theod. Make haste-run, this moment-bring me to him, bring him to me; say I wait with impatience tell him I will go-fly any where

Mer. My life ! my charmer!
Theod. Oh, Heavens! Mr. Mervin !

Enter SiR HARRY and LADY SYCAMORE. Lady S. Sir Harry, don't walk so fast; we are not running for a wager.

Sir Harry. Hough, hough, hough!

Lady S. Heyday, you have got a cough! I shall have you laid upon my hands presently.

Sir Harry. No, no, my lady; it's only the old affair.

Lady s. Come here, and let me tie this handkerchief about your neck; you have put yourself into a muck-sweat already. [fies a Handkerchief about his Neck.] Have you taken your bardana this morning? Not

you, I warrant now, though you have been complaining of twitches, two or three times ; and, you know, the gouty season is coming on. Why will you be so neglectful of your health, Sir Harry? I protest, I am forced to watch you, like an infant !

Sir Harry. My lovey takes care of me, and I am obliged to her.

Lady S. Well, but you ought to mind me then, since you are satisfied I never speak but for your good. I thought, Miss Sycamore, you were to have

Bless'd, who no false glare requiring,
Nature's rural sweets admiring,
Can, from grosser joys retiring,

Seek the simple and serene.

[Exit.

Enter MERVIN and FANNY.

Mervin. Yonder she is seated, and, to my wish, nost fortunately alone.-Accost her as I desired.

Theod. Heigh!

Fanny. Heaven bless you, my sweet lady bless your honour's beautiful visage, and send you a good husband, and a great many of them!

Theod. A very comfortable wish, upon my word! who are you, child ?

Fanny. A poor gipsy, an please you, that goes about begging from charitable gentlemen and ladies. -If you have e'er a coal, or bit of whiting in your pocket, l'll write you the first letter of your sweetheart's name-how many husbands you will have, and how many children, my lady: or, if you'll let me look at your line of life, I'll tell you whether it will be long or short, happy or miserable.

Theod. Oh! as for that I know it already—you cannot tell me any good fortune, and, therefore, I'll hear none.-Go about

your

business. Mer. Stay, madarn, stay—[Pretending to lift a Paper from the Ground]-you have dropped something-Fan, call the young gentlewoman back.

Fanny. Lady, you have lost-
Theod. Pho, pho, I have lost nothing !

Mer. Yes, that paper, lady; you dropped it as you got up from the chair.–Fan, give it to her honour. Thcod. A letter, with my address !

[T'akes the Paper, and reads.

Dear Theodosia, Though the sight of me was so disagreeable to you, that you charged me never to approach you more, I hope my hand-writing can have nothing to frighten or disgust you. I am not far off ; und the person that delivers you this, can give you intelligence. Come hither, child; do you know any thing of the gentleman that wrote this?

Fanny. My lady

Theod. Make haste-run, this moment-bring me to him, bring him to me; say I wait with impatience -tell him I will go-fly any where

Mer. My life ! my charmer!
Theod. Oh, Heavens! Mr. Mervin !

Enter SIR HARRY and LADY SYCAMORE. Lady S. Sir Harry, don't walk so fast; we are not running for a wager.

Sir Harry. Hough, hough, hough!

Lady S. Heyday, you have got a cough! I shall have you laid upon my hands presently.

Sir Harry. No, no, my lady; it's only the old affair.

Lady S. Come here, and let me tie this handkerchief about your neck; you have put yourself into a muck-sweat already. [Ties a Handkerchief about his Neck.] Have you taken your bardana this morning? Not you, I warrant now, though you have been complaining of twitches, two or three times ; and, you know, the gouty season is coming on. Why will you be so neglectful of your health, Sir Harry? I protest, I am forced to watch you, like an infant !

Sir Harry. My lovey takes care of me, and I am obliged to her.

Lady S. Well, but you ought to mind me then, since you are satisfied I never speak but for your good. I thought, Miss Sycamore, you were to have

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