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Sir Pet. Oh, I am glad to find you have so good a recollection.

L. Teaz. My evening employments were to draw patterns for ruffles, which I had not materials to make up; play at Pope Joan with the curate; read a sermon to my aunt Deborah; or perhaps be stuck up at an old spinnet to thrum my father to sleep after a fox-chace.

Sir Pet. Then you were glad to take a ride out behind the butler, upon the old dock'd coach-horse.

L. Teaz. No, no, I deny the butler and the coach-horse. Sir Pet. I say you did. This was your situation. Now, madam, you must have your coach, vis-a-vis, and three powdered footmen to walk before your chair; and in summer, two white cats to draw you to Kensington-gardens: and, instead of your living in that hole in the country, I have brought you home here, made a woman of fortune of you, a woman of quality-in short, I have made you my


L. Teaz. Well, and there is but one thing more you can now add to the obligation, and that is

Sir Pet. To make you my widow, I suppose.

L. Teaz. Hem !

Sir Pet. Very well, madam, very well; I am much obliged to you for the hint.

L. Teaz. Why then will you force me to say shocking things to you. But now we have finished our morning conversation, I presume I may go to my engagements at Lady Sneerwell's.

Sir Pet. Lady Sneerwell!-a precious acquaintance you have made of her too, and the set that frequent her house. Such a set, mercy on us! Many a wretch who has been drawn upon a hurdle, has done less mischief than those barters of forged lies, coiners of scandal, and clippers of reputation.

L. Teaz. How can you be so severe : I am sure they are all people of fashion, and very tenacious of reputation. Sir Pet. Yes, so tenacious of it, they'll not allow it to any but themselves.

L. Teaz. I vow, Sir Peter, when I say an ill-natured thing, I mean no harm by it, for I take it for granted they'd the same by me.

Sir Pet. They've made you as bad as any of them. L. Teaz. Yes, I think I bear my part with a tolerable grace.

Sir Pet. Grace indeed!

L. Teaz. Well but, Sir Peter, you know you promised to


Sir Pet. Well, I shall just call in to look after my own character.

L. Teaz. Then, upon my word, you must make haste after me, or you'll be too late. [Exit Lady Teazle. Sir Pet. I have got much by my intended expostulation. What a charming air she has !—and how pleasingly she shows her contempt of my authority! Well, though I can't make her love me, 'tis some pleasure to teaze her a little; and I think she never appears to such advantage, as when she is doing every thing to vex and plague me.-School for Scandal.


MAC-IVOR.-Author of Waverley.

"Are you to take the field so soon, Fergus," he asked, "that you are making all these martial preparations ?"

"When we have settled that you go with me, you shall know all; but otherwise, the knowledge might rather be prejudicial to you."

"But are you serious in your purpose, with such inferior forces, to rise against an established government? It is mere frenzy."

“Oh, I shall take good care of myself. We shall at least use the compliment of Conan, who never got a stroke but he gave one. I would not, however," continued the chieftain, "have you think me mad enough to stir till a favourable opportunity: I will not slip my dog before the game's afoot. But, once more, will you join with us, and you

know all ?"



"How can I?" said Waverley; " I, who have so lately held that commission which is now posting back to those that gave it? My accepting it implied a promise of fidelity, and an acknowledgment of the legality of the government."

"A rash promise," answered Fergus, "is not a steel handcuff; it may be shaken off, especially when it was given under deception, and has been repaid by insult. But if you cannot immediately make up your mind to a glorious revenge, go to England, and ere you cross the Tweed, you will hear tidings that will make the world ring; and if Sir Everard be the gallant old cavalier I have heard him described by some of our honest gentlemen of the year one thousand seven hundred and fifteen, he will find you a better horse-troop and a better cause than you have lost."

"But your sister, Fergus?"

"Out, hyperbolical fiend!" replied the chief, laughing; "how vexest thou this man!-Speak'st thou of nothing but of ladies?"

"Nay, be serious, my dear friend," said Waverley; "I feel that the happiness of my future life must depend upon the answer which Miss Mac-Ivor shall make to what I ventured to tell her this morning."

"And is this your very sober earnest," said Fergus, more gravely, or are we in the land of romance and fiction?"

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My earnest, undoubtedly. How could you suppose me jesting on such a subject?"

"Then, in very sober earnest," answered his friend, “I am very glad to hear it; and so highly do I think of Flora, that you are the only man in England for whom I would say so much. But before you shake my hand so warmly, there is more to be considered. Your own family-will they approve your connecting yourself with the sister of a high-born Highland beggar?"

"My uncle's situation," said Waverley," his general opinions, and his uniform indulgence, entitle me to say, that birth and personal qualities are all he would look to in such a connexion. And where can I find both united in such excellence as in your sister?"

"Oh, nowhere!" replied Fergus with a smile. "But your father will expect a father's prerogative in being consulted."


Surely; but his late breach with the ruling powers removes all apprehension of objection on his part, especially as I am convinced that my uncle will be warm in my cause."

"Religion, perhaps," said Fergus, "may make obstacles, though we are not bigoted Catholics."

"My grandmother was of the Church of Rome, and her religion was never objected to by my family. Do not think of my friends, dear Fergus; let me rather have your influence where it may be more necessary to remove obstacles -I mean with your lovely sister."

"My lovely sister," replied Fergus, "like her loving brother, is very apt to have a pretty decisive will of her own, by which, in this case, you must be ruled; but you shall not want my interest, nor my counsel. And, in the first place, I will give you one hint-Loyalty is her ruling passion; and since she could spell an English book, she has been in love with the memory of the gallant Captain Wogan, who renounced the service of the usurper Cromwell to join the standard of Charles II., marched a handful of cavalry from London to the Highlands to join Middleton, then in arms for the king, and at length died gloriously in the royal cause. Ask her to show you some verses she made on his history and fate; they have been much admired, I assure you. The next point is-I think I saw Flora go up towards the waterfall a short time since-follow, man, follow! don't allow the garrison time to strengthen its purposes of resistance. Seek Flora out, and learn her decision as soon as you can, and Cupid go with you, while I go to look over belts and cartouch-boxes."



Virginius. And is this all you have observed? I think There's nothing strange in that. An L and I Twin'd with a V. Three very innocent letters To have bred such mischief in thy brain, good Servia! Come read this riddle to me.

Servia. You may laugh,

Virginius, but I'll read the riddle right.

The L doth stand for Lucius; and the I,
Icilius; which, I take it, will compose
Lucius Icilius.

Vir. So it will, good Servia.

Ser. Then, for the V; why, that is plain Virginia.
Vir. And now, what conjuration find you here?

Ser. What should I find but love? The maid's in love, And it is with Icilius. Look, the wreath

Is made of roses, that entwines the letters.

Vir. And this is all?

Ser. And is it not enough?

You'll find this figuring where'er you look:
There's not a piece of dainty work she does
Embroidery or painting-not a task
She finishes, but on the skirt, or border,
In needle work, or pencil, this, her secret,
The silly wench betrays.

Vir. Go, send her to me

Stay! have you spoken to her of it?

Ser. I not I, indeed; I left that task to you—
Though once I ask'd her what the letters meant,
She laugh'd, and drew a scratch across them; but
Had scarce done so, ere her fair visage fell,
For grief that she had spoiled the cyphers—and
A sigh came out, and then almost a tear;
And she did look, as piteous on the harm
That she had done, as she had done it to
A thing, had sense to feel it. Never after
She let me note her at work again.

She had good reason!

Vir. Send her to me, Servia.

[Exit Servia.

There's something here, that looks as it would bring me

Anticipation of my wish. I think

Icilius loves my daughter-nay, I know it;

And such a man I'd challenge for her husband;-
And only waited, till her forward spring

Put on, a little more, the genial likeness
Of colouring into summer, ere I sought
To nurse a flower, which, blossoming too early,
Too early often dies; but if it springs

Spontaneous, and, unlooked for, woos our hand
To tend and cherish it, the growth is healthful:
And 'twere untimely, as unkind, to check it.
I'll ascertain it shortly-soft, she comes.

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