Aura. Men, my dear, men-human creatures; look yonder, they move towards us; my heart beats quick at the uncommon sight; does not thine too? Be honest, and tell truth.

Flora. Remember your character, compose yourself, put your manners in your pocket, and be a clown for a moment.

"Aura. My hands are set, my eyes are fix'd, I "have a blush at command, I'll bite the fingers of " my cotton gloves, and be as very a She-Cudden as " ever hopped round a may-pole.

Enter MODELY and HEARTWELL as FLORA and AURA are going off.

Mode. Pretty maidens, stay one moment; turn again and give your assistance to two honest fellows in distress our horses are lame, 'tis late, we have lost our way

#

Heart. And we wou'd know where-(She is intolerably handsome!) [Aside of Flora. Mode. We shall lie to-night ?-(She is a sweet girl.) [Aside of Aura.

Flora. Sir, we buy, we don't sell fortune; two gypsies just now offered us a penny-worth, they passed by those elms, I believe you may o'ertake 'em.

Aura. Yes, Sir, they will tell you what will happen

to you exactly-good evening.

Mode. Nay, if I part with you thus.

[Going.

"Heart. I am surpris'd-such dialect. So much

"beauty here, too, in a wild country hamlet-'tis "wonderful.

"Mode. They have the perfect mien of fine ladies "at St. James's in their air.

"Heart. Ay, and their habits are genteel tho' ru"ral. Don't let 'em go yet, Modely.

Mode. "No, no-you must not stir."

[Holding her. Aura. Pray, Sir, as you are a gentleman— Mode. Why, you wou'd not leave us in a strange place, child?

Aura. We have no title at all to you; if you are a couple of stray cattle, all we can do is, to bring you to the constable.

Mode. And what then?

Aura. Why then he must cry you three marketdays, and if no body owns you, you fall to the lord o' the manor.

Heart. [To Flora, to whom he has been talking.] Stay one moment, dear creature, vanish not immediately, if wou'd not have me believe myself in a vision, and go raving up and down, talking of angels in country habits.

you

Flora. You have been talking all this while out o3 my compass: pray, Sir, come down to my understanding; mine, you see, is as plain as my dress""Tis downright popery, to say your prayers in an "unknown tongue.

"Heart. I'll turn catholic, any thing, say you'll be "my saint.

"Flora. But can I grant your prayer, if I don't "understand your petition?

"Heart. Your understanding is equal to your "form, for to say which excels is impossible, where "both are perfect.

Flora. If I have any understanding, don't batter "it with hard words. I know no woman who is "proof against flattery; that Will-with-a-whisp "leads us all astray; but I'll shut my ears and take "myself away from it instantly.

"Heart. 'Tis impossible to see thee and not talk in rapture. Thou beautiful robber, won't you gagg ""me, too?

"Flora. It grows late: pray give me my hand : let " me go."

Heart. In one word then; who is the inhabitant of that farm-house in the bottom?

Aura. A sour old man, Sir, who, when he is in a very good humour, vouchsafes to call me daughter.

Flora. And me cousin : there we live, gentlemen, and are like to live, fretting one another like silk and worsted wove together, 'till we quite wear out.

Heart. You have none of the rust of the country upon you 'tis wonderful; you live polish'd among savages. Neither your words, your mien, your manners, nor any thing but your habits, speak you what you wou'd appear.

Aura. My father and the vicar of our parish taught us both to read and write; but indeed, Sir, my father was born a gentleman, and is by accident only a clown,

for having in his youth profusely squander'd a great estate in London among common friends and mistresses, he took an aversion to the town, and turn'd his sword into a ploughshare.

"Flora. 'Tis so, gentlemen: in him you may see "a thoughtless rake, degenerated into a plodding far"mer-only a few books scatter'd carelessly about, "keep alive the memory of the gentleman; and when (6 a recess from his daily labour gives him leave, he "will read a page or two in a Latin satirist, and as "he smokes his pipe in our broad chimney-corner,

explains to us all the ill-natur'd things they say of "cities, courts, and polite pleasures, as we call 'em ; "he declares he chose this solitude to soften himself, "and file off that barbarity he had contracted by con" versing with mankind.”

Heart. Is it impossible to see this sour Cynic?—I persuade myself we might revive those seeds of humanity that once liv'd within him, and get entertainment in his farm for one night only: especially if you wou'd be so good to use your power too, and venture to intercede for a stranger.

Flora. Sir, 'tis impossible! if you wore any form but what you do.

Heart. Ask him only; try a little; use the influence of your eyes——Ask him with a look of pity, and 'tis impossible he should deny you.

"Flora. Ay; but I myself am not rightly satisfied; "I fear

"Heart. Away with fear, 'tis an enemy to all that

C

"is brave or generous. Can we offend against all "the laws of humanity, honour, hospitality? I swear "there's an awful charm in your eyes, wou'd stop "the burning rage of a drunken libertine.

"Flora. Ah! no more o' that, I beg you. Shall we ask?" [To Aura,

Aura. Will you venture?

Flora. I am half afraid! if you wou'd second me. Aura. Never fear, my girl: I'll stand bravely by thee-Gentlemen, we'll endeavour to prevail, and you shall have an answer in the turn of a second.

[Exeunt Flora and Aura. Heart. What a couple of jewels are here in rustic work!

Mode. I never beheld any thing so charming!

Heart. What a shape, a neck, a chest!

Mode. An air, a mien, an instep, a foot!
Heart. Why, you don't mean my girl?

Mode. Nor you mine, I hope?

Heart. Mine is the most beautiful piece of flesh and blood

Mode. Mine the sweetest, most angelical little rogue

Heart. Her hair is dark brown, her eyes are two black globes of living light-Diamonds of the first

water

Mode. Her breath is sweeter than the new-made haycock. I had rather look upon her than enjoy a

toast

Heart. I never saw any thing in a brocade so genteel.