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then-I muft, it feems-Mifs Richland, my dear, I believe you guess at our bufinefs; an affair which my fon here comes to open, that nearly concerns your happiness.

Mifs RICHLAND.

Sir, I fhould be ungrateful not to be pleased with any thing that comes recommended by you.

CROAKER.

How, boy, could you defire a finer opening? Why don't you begin, I fay t

LEONTINE.

(To Leont.)

'Tis true, madam, my father, madam, has fome intentions-hem-of explaining an affair-whichhimself-can beft explain, madam.

CROAKER.

Yes, my dear; it comes intirely from my fon;

it's all a request of his own, madam.

permit him to make the best of it.

LEONTINE.

And I will

The whole affair is only this, madam; my father has a propofal to make, which he infists none but himself shall deliver.

CROAKER.

My mind mifgives me, the fellow will never be brought on. (Afide.) In fhort, madam, you see bẹfore you one that loves you; one whofe whole happiness is all in you.

Mifs RICHLAND.

I never had any doubts of your regard, Sir; and I hope you can have none of my duty.

CROAKER.

That's not the thing, my little fweeting; my love! No, no, another guefs lover than I; there he ftands, madam, his very looks declare the force of his paffion-Call up a look you dog (Afide)—But then, had you seen him, as I have, weeping, fpeaking foliloquies and blank verfe, fometimes melancholy, and fometimes abfent

Mifs RICHLAND.

I fear, Sir, he's abfent now; or fuch a declaration would have come moft properly from himfelf.

CROAKER.

Himself! madam, he would die before he could make fuch a confeffion; and if he had not a channel for his paffion through me, it would ere now have drowned his understanding.

Mifs RICHLAND.

I must grant, Sir, there are attractions in modest diffidence above the force of words.

A filent ad

drefs is the genuine eloquence of fincerity.

CROAKER.

Madam, he has forgot to speak any other language; filence is become his mother tongue.

Mifs RICHLAND.

And it must be confeffed, Sir, it fpeaks very powerfully in his favour. And yet I fhall be

thought

thought too forward in making fuch a confeffion; fhan't I, Mr. Leontine ?

LEONTINE.

Confufion! my referve will undo me. But, if modefty attracts her, impudence may difguft her. I'll try. (Afide.) Don't imagine from my filence, madam, that I want a due fenfe of the honour and happiness intended me. My father, madam, tells me, your humble fervant is not totally indifferent to you. He admires you; I adore you; and when we come together, upon my foul I believe we shall be the happiest couple in all St. James's.

Mifs RICHLAND.

If I could flatter myself, you thought as you Speak, Sir

LEONTINE.

Doubt my fincerity, madam? By your dear felf I fwear. Ask the brave, if they defire glory? afk cowards, if they covet fafety

CROAKER.

Well, well, no more questions about it.

LEONTINE.

Afk the fick, if they long for health? afk mifers, if they love money ? afk

CROAKER.

Ask a fool, if he can talk nonfenfe! What's come over the boy? What fignifies afking, when there's not a foul to give you an answer? If you

would

would ask to the purpose, afk this lady's confent to make you happy.

Mifs RICHLAND.

Why indeed, Sir, his uncommon ardour almost compels me--forces me to comply. And yet I'm afraid he'll defpife a conqueft gained with too much eafe: won't you, Mr. Leontine ?

LEONTINE.

Confufion! (Afide.) Oh, by no means, madam, by no means. And yet, madam, you talked of force. There is nothing I would avoid so much as compulfion in a thing of this kind. No, madam, I will ftill be generous, and leave you at liberty to refuse.

CROAKER.

But I tell you, Sir, the lady is not at liberty. It's a match. You see she says nothing. Silence gives confent.

LEONTINE.

But, Sir, fhe talked of force. Confider, Sir, the cruelty of constraining her inclinations.

CROAKER.

But I fay there's no cruelty. Don't you know, blockhead, that girls have always a roundabout way of faying yes before company? So get you both gone together into the next room, and hang him that interrupts the tender explanation.

gone, I fay; I'll not hear a word.

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Get you

LE

LEONTINE.

But, Sir, I must beg leave to insist—
CROAKER.

Get off, you puppy, or I'll beg leave to infift upon knocking you down. Stupid whelp! But I don't wonder, the boy takes entirely after his mo[Exeunt Mifs Rich. and Leont.

ther

Enter Mrs. CROAKER.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Mr. Croaker, I bring you fomething, my dear, that I believe will make you fmile.

CROAKER.

I'll hold you a guinea of that, my dear.

Mrs. CROAKER.

A letter; and, as I knew the hand, I ventur'd

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And how can you expect your breaking open my letters fhould give me pleasure ?

Mrs. CROAKER.

Poo, it's from your fifter at Lyons, and contains good news: read it.

CROAKER.

What a Frenchified cover is here! That fifter of mine has fome good qualities, but I could never teach her to fold a letter.

Mrs. CROAKER.

Fold a fiddlestick.

Read what it contains.

CROAKER.

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