ACT. I.

IN what a restless State have I pass'd these few late Hours! My Fears of miscarrying in the ne­cessary Attempt, join'd to the Charms of my fair In­structress, have banish'd Sleep as far from my Eyes, as Possession of the dear Object wou'd Sorrow from my Heart. What an unaccountable Revolution has this Girl caused in me! One Evening's Conversation has metamorphos'd me, from the avow'd Friend of Dissipation and Riot, to an unalterable Advocate for Matrimony, domestic Pleasures, pretty Children, and the main Chance.

Sir, Mr. Modely.

Shew him in.

What, Ned Gilbert, up and garter'd before Eleven! Why, what in the name of the Lark, makes you such an early Riser? Perhaps bad Wine and worse Company had Charms sufficient to rival your Pillow, and keep you up all Night.

Not so, upon my Honour. I went soberly to Rest at Twelve; but my Pillow and I never agreed worse: There was no Part of it cou'd please me. But, when I account for our Quarrel, you will cer­tainly indulge in a hearty Laugh. In short, after I left you at George's I went to Ranelagh, where Townly introduc'd me to one of the most amiable, elegant, sprightly, bewitching Females—that ever made Mortal melancholy.

But, Ned, I shou'd suppose her more than Mortal that cou'd make you so.

Never was Man so chang'd. I drew Townly aside, made a short Inquiry into her Family and Character; and, finding both unexceptionable, I made a formal Declaration of an honourable Passion; which the dear Girl receiv'd in a most easy, open, becoming Manner.

But, pray, did Townly introduce you by your real Name of Gilbert.

No, no—as Mr. George Heartly, the Name by which I pass here at my Lodging: For he knows, [Page 7]shou'd the News of my being from Oxford, reach Norfolk, the old Gentleman might be in the Pouts. But to proceed—She told me she was generally close confin'd by her Father, who was then in the Country on some Family Business; that Gold given to her Keeper had procur'd her a short Jubilee that wou'd expire at her Father's Return, which was expected almost as soon as her's.

Oh provoking! Then you have seen your last of her, for a Time at least.

Not so I hope neither. I am just going to visit her in Masquerade. If you will step into the next Room with me, while I equip myself, I'll let you into our whole Plot.

I attend you.

Well, this is as strange a Metamorphosis as any in Ovid! but I believe it is only the Fore-runner of another. A Month's Possession of the desired Ob­ject, will convince him, however easily trapp'd, he is not long to be caged. Love, quotha! he has been as often in love, as he calls it, as I have been at short Commons; and has changed his Mind much oftener, than I my Livery. I thought something was gathering in the Wind when I let him in last Night. He was very eager to get to Bed too, which is never the Case, but when his Heart's full or his Purse empty. I foresee a World of Difficulty in this Busi­ness. So much the better—for, as he has but few Friends in Town, I must needs be a Party in the Plot—and when once I am deeply engag'd in the Secret—if I don't get well paid for keeping it, why then—But hold! Will that be honest? May be not —but 'twill be very convenient; and that's the first Thing to be consider'd.

SCENE, a Chamber in Mr. Lockworth's House.

My dear Lucy, start no more Objections, for I am determined to be pleased with the Adven­ture. His Address so easy! his Conversation so en­gaging! and when he made the wished-for Declara­tion, it was attended with such Openness, and, at the same Time, such unaffected Delicacy, that I soon bad adieu to Reserve, and gave him ample Leave to hope the best. I laid before nim the Difficulty of a Correspondence — but at that Instant, Cupid, be thanked! I thought of an Expedient to introduce him. [Page 9]I expect him presently in the Disguise of a foreign Tutor, lately recommended to my Father. If the real Master should make his Appearance, we must employ my Gold, and your Smiles, upon that old Hypocrite Robin, and so get him dismissed.

Well, Fortune favour us! Indeed, Madam, I am as impatient to gain my Liberty as you can be. I would not purchase it at the Price of leaving you in this Extremity; but I cannot pay myself so ill a Com­pliment, as to suppose, I am fit for nothing but to be immur'd in this Manner, and condemned to bear the Whims of your Father, and the odious Addresses of his superannuated Privy Counsellor.

Courage Girl! we shall soon—Mum!

Sir, to tell you the Truth, my chief Travels, were a few Trips to the West-Indies; where you may be sure, I could not gain any great Knowledge of your polite Languages, or practice many of your Congès. But I take it for granted, as you are recommended by so sensible a Man as my Friend Lackland, you will soon make the promised Im­provements in my Daughter. Oh, here she is! —

Mrs. Headstrong, you may walk down. You make too good Use of your Clack already, to be trusted with any Language but your Mother Tongue.

Is dis de Lady, Sir, sal be my Pupille?

Yes, Sir, And though I say it, my Girl don't want Parts, as you will find. I know my Pre­sence is an Interruption to your Proceedings; so I shall go down Stairs, and leave you to make the best you can of her.

Well, Sir, you sufficiently relish the Pro­ject, I find, to undertake it after a whole Night's Reflection.

[Page 10]

That Night's Reflection, Madam, served only to convince me, that I should face Danger in this, or any Shape, to be admitted to your Presence; and cheerfully submit to any Change of Figure▪ to prove my Heart unalterable.

Alas, Sir, I well know Courtship and Honey­moon are gay, rapturous Seasons; but conjugal Life has in it many a dull Winter Evening. And it often happens, after a few Weeks Possession, the seem­ing constant, cooing Turtle, turns out a very libertine Sparw.

However, Sir, the Step I have taken must convince you, I am more than pleas'd with your Protestations; and will shortly, if our Plan succeeds, give you an Opportunity to prove their Sincerity.

[Page 11]

But should we be discover'd, say, will you, on the first Occasion, bid adieu to your Prison, and fly to Freedom and your Heartly?

That requires a Pause. Nor can I—Hush, here's my Father.

Domine, I must beg Leave to break in upon you. I want to speak with your Pupil on a Matter of some Moment; and she must, by her Diligence on your next Visit, endeavour to repair her Loss in short­ening this

—

—What a malicious Interruption! But there's no Remedy.—Adieu, Mademoiselle! Mon­sieur, Serviteur tres humble!

Serviteur, Domine!—Well, Celia, I have good News for thee; a Husband in my Eye, my Girl! Heyday! what no Joy in thy Countenance? You think now I am going to speak again in Favour of Sir Humphry Ringwood. No, no, this is a lively Lad, a fine young Fellow, a stripling of Fortunc.

The best Fortune, Sir, that can befall me, is the Gift of pleasing you. And I hope a Refusal of your present intended Kindness will not lessen the Tenderness you have ever shewn me. The Gentle­man you mention, may be every Way worthy of a better Lot; but, as I am yet a Stranger to him and his Qualifications, I cannot be sudden in my Determi­nation.

I tell you what, Celia; you may have Rhe­toric, but I have Power. Mr. Trapwell is below, who will let you into the whole Affair. I desire you will come down to us immediately. I shall not say more to you at present, because I wou'd not have you appear chagrin'd; but mark me, Celia; I will be obey'd.

[Page 12]

You will be obey'd! I will be pleased. Ay, but how? Marry, by following my own Inclinations, What, in Spite of Locks, Bolts, and Suspicion? Yes, in Spite of every Thing. Love can surmount, as well as create Difficulties.

Nay, prithee, Ned, don't be peevish; the old Gentleman's Entrance was a little Mal a-propos, to be sure; but you have been addmitted without Suspicion, and under Favour of your Disguise may renew your Visit.

But not immediately; and an Hour's Ab­sence seems Eternity. Oh, Frank!—

Nay, nay, keep your Raptures for your Mistress—Common Sense will content me. Has your Fellow, Smatter, told you the News?

News! What News?

Nay, 'tis not of the agreeable Kind, I pro­mise you. He met one of your Father's Servants this Morning.

In Town?

[Page 13]

Yes; but the Dog was arch enough to tell the Clodpole, you had discharged him; so he has no Suspicion of your being in London: But the worst is to come. In short, your Father is on the Road in his Way hither.

'Sdeath! you alarm me! But no Matter. If he does not take it in his Head to pay a Visit to Oxford, I am safe still. I'm on Thorns to know what that Business of Consequence was, that the old Hunks wanted to open to his Daughter.

Pray, does your Uneasiness proceed from Curiosity or Jealousy? May be a Compound of both. I hear he was lately very urgent with her in behalf of a Country Baronet.

Who? O! Sir Humphry Ringwood.—Ay, she gave me a short History of that Affair last Night. If I had no other Obstacle, I shou'd have very little Doubt of Success.

Sir, here's a Letter for you.

From whence?

Celia Lockworth! Blessing on the Hand! Now for the Contents.

So, I am my own Rival at last! A very whimsical Circumstance!

A very lucky one, I think; for now you have nothing to do, but to make an immediate Dis­covery of your Situation to the old Fellow, and the Affair will undoubtedly take a favourable Turn.

I am not very clear in that. What you mention might produce the desir'd Effect, if I had not appear'd before him in my borrow'd Shape, which you are sensible must make a Part of the Ex­planation: And who knows but such a Step may, in his Eyes, give me too much the Air of an Adven­turer, and lead him to make Inquiries, which, you know, will not be at all convenient: Nay, he may think it necessary to consult my Father; and, if in the End it should not prove agreeable to my old Gentleman, I shall repent my frank Confession, as it will undoubtedly deprive me of all future Oppor­tunities of visiting Celia in my feign'd Character; and I am determin'd not to give her up.

What you say is very true: Nay, perhaps, she too may think you have dealt rather indirectly, and have her Suspicions.

None, but what a Quarter of an Hour's Conversation will remove—But, how to gain that? Egad, I have a Thought.—Suppose I make my Rascal Smatter, personate me. He may find a thousand Ways of introducing himself. This will, at least, give me an Opportunity of conveying the Situation of Affairs in a Letter to the dear Girl. Nay, perhaps, procure her Liberty; which, if she makes a proper Use of, we'll put the finishing Stroke to the Affair, before the Return of my Oxford Friend, Trapwell: And when my Father arrives, the three old Fellows [Page 15]may lay their wise Heads together, and make the best on't.

But is Smatter equal to the Undertaking?

O, the Dog's intelligent enough. Smatter!

Sir.

I think, Smatter, you are well furnish'd as to Assurance.

Yes, Sir, pretty well.

Manage it properly, and it may be of im­mediate Service. Do you think you can make a tolerable Shift to personate me?

You, Sir?

Yes, Sir, me—me—myself.

Which Self do you mean, Sir? Your mad Self, or your tame Self? That is, am I to repre­sent the gay Mr. Gilbert of St. John's College, or the discreet Mr. Heartly of London?

Sirrah, you are to be Mr. Gilbert of Oxford. As to the Gaiety or Sobriety of your Behaviour, that you must vary as Occasion shall require.

Sir, I'll undertake it, if I'm properly sup­ply'd.

Oh, you shall have a Suit of Cloaths of mine.

Nothing else, Sir?

O, yes, every Thing suitable.

I shall never come through, Sir, if my Pockets are empty. You know, Sir, I am not of a mercenary Disposition: But as I am to be your Representative, I wou'd, for your Sake, be as like you as possible in every Particular.

Well, Sir, you shall be supply'd with Cash too. While I write a Letter, do you get your­self ready, and then I'll give you further Instruc­tions.

So, Celia, are you still enamour'd of your Prison? or, will you purchase Liberty at the easy Price of obeying my Commands?

What, Sir, consent to make a blind Bargain? Give an absolute Promise to wed a Man, neither you nor I have seen, meerly because—

Ay, because 'tis my Pleasure.—Now con­vince me it will not please me, and I'll give up the Contest,

Sir, there's a young Gentleman below en­quires for you.

What Sort of a Gentleman?

Well dress'd, Sir; but I believe he's a little light i'the Head.

[Page 17]

Shew him up

Do you re­tire, Mrs. Disobedience.

I must find some Method to remove this Girl's Obstinacy before my Friend Trapwell's Return, or we shall be forc'd to—

Sir, your very humble Servant; your Com­mands with me?

Sir, your most obedient.—I beg Pardon for the Intrusion.—Pray, Sir, will you inform me where I can meet Mr. Trapwell of Oxford? I have some particular Business with him, and was told I shou'd see, or at least here of him here.

Sir, he is set out for Colchester; but I am ac­qainted with most of his Concerns, and, perhaps, may serve the Turn on this Occasion. May I crave your Name, Sir?

Gilbert, Sir, at your Service.

Of Oxford?

Of Oxford.

O Fortune! the very Man!

by my Troth, a sightly One too!—a little of the Coxcomb; but his Money will excuse that.—Sir, I have heard my Friend mention you with great Respect.

I am beholden to him, Sir, on many Occa­sions, but singularly so in this; as you are a Person, whose good Opinion I particularly stand in Need of, Sir, I shall freely communicate — I have lately been favoured with a Glance or two from a fair Eye, posted in one of your Windows. I am told the Lady is so happy to be your Daughter; and I flatter my­self, it may not be the sinallest Part of her good For­tune, that she is the Object of my Affections.

Better and better—a little vain—but he'll have a fine Fortune. Sir, I must tell you, I ho­nour you for the Openness of your Disposition; and shall give you a Proof of the Frankness of mine. In short, Sir, you was the last Subject of our Conversa­tion. [Page 18]In the Warmth of our Discourse my Friend declar'd, that he, as knowing your, and, let me say my Daughter's good Qualities, wish'd an Union — But the Girl had her Doubts—

That she shou'd not be agreeable to me— poor Soul!—that's settled now I have seen her. But, Sir, give me Leave to ease her Fears, by perso­nally informing her of my total Devotion to the Shrine of her Beauty.

I shall not attempt to enhance the Worth of my Girl, by a scrupulous Observance of Forms; but will, with little Ceremony, introduce you: Yet, Sir, you must not be alarm'd, as my Daughter has a cer­tain Shyness, if she shou'd, at the first Onset, retreat, or refuse your Addresses.

Sir, I beg your Pardon—but I must either suppose you think the Ladies what they were in your Great Grandmother's Days, or that your Daughter has been used to converse only with Country Curates, and not with any of the Beaux Espirits.

ACT II.

LUCY!

Sir?

Where's your Mistress?

Troth, Sir, like a pounded Horse, just where you left her.

Hussy, so is your Tongue, and yet I dare say that has been going ever since. Sir, I'll bring my Daughter to you immediately

Egad, a smart looking Wench! I wou'd give a Trifle to know whether she is, or is not of her Mis­tress's Counsel. Well, Child, do you know that I intend shortly to make your Mistress the happiest Wo­man in Europe?

Sir, I don't doubt your Intention. I shall only say, the best Marksman may sometimes miss his Aim.

May he so, Mrs. Random?—There's some­thing in this Girl that pleases me; and, to talk in her own Style—tho' I came hither to shoot at the Pigeon, I shou'd have no Objection to killing the Crow.

Look ye, Celia, here he is; and as you hope to receive your Fortune, or my Blessing, treat him as the Person I approve.

You are descended, Madam, as I perceive, from a Gentleman of a most frank and amiable Dis­position; and I make no doubt you inherit the Virtues of your Sire. I therefore conclude, Madam, all Fi­nesse, Altercation, or Circumlocution, absolutely un­necessary. I have frankly told your Father of those kind Glances and Leers of Invitation you bestowed on me, your Knight, from your inchanted Castle. I have also undertaken to relieve you, a distressed Damsel, and to conclude the Adventure by a speedy Consum­mation of our Nuptials.

Sir, I am not sufficiently read in Romances, to answer you in your own Style, but must declare—

Declare! Declare what? Oh, that you can­not speak your Mind before your Father!—Pray, Sir, allow a little to her maiden Shyness, and my native Modesty, and leave us a little to ourselves.

I will, I will. Celia, remember, Child, he'll have a vast Fortune.

Madam, as Time is precious, you will excuse me, if I am a little abrupt. I am no Gilbert of Ox­ford; but Servant to your Lover and Language Master, by whom I am commissioned to deliver this Letter, which will inform you at large of the State of our Affairs.

If what you say is Truth, I shall look on you as my better Angel. I'll retire to read the Letter, lest my Father should return and catch me with it.

Do so, Madam. If he comes I'll find some Way to detain him. But, Madam, one Word before you go.—Is your Maid to be trusted?

Ay, with my Life; she knows the whole Affair.

[Page 21]

Say you so? Nay, if you can trust her with your Life, I may run the Risque of trusting her with my Person.—Let me see—

I long to know what Entertainment she'll give the Spark. Odso! What has she left him to bemoan his hapless Fate already. Nay, then I may appear.

Sir, I beg Pardon, where's my Lady?

What, here again! By my Soul, Child, your Lady's gone; but you were present when absent. In short, you do and will engross my Thoughts: I can only say, I am not what I seem—But seem what I may, I am and will be yours.

Hey day! What Time of the Moon's this?

By Heaven 'tis true! Or may you discover me and get me toss'd in a Blanket—Mum! here comes the old Gentleman.

Ha! Celia gone! Affairs here wear but an indifferent Aspect. Well, Sir, how have you thriven?

Thriven! to my Wish, Sir. The Question is an Affront to me and my Qualifications.

Sir, I beg Pardon of you and your Qualifica­tions. But have you got my Daughter's Consent.

Pretty near, Sir: I have offered her some Arguments that have stagger'd her Resolution. I believe she is gone to consider of them, and will re­turn immediately.

Ods my Life! thou art a pretty forward, thriving Fellow, and I wish thee Joy! I'll go fetch the young Baggage.

What, solicit my Lady! Deceive her and her Father! pretended Love to me! Why you are a meer Riddle.

[Page 22]

Say no more. At present I am and must be a Riddle; but your Lady will expound me. In the mean time—d'ye hear, Child, behave with all due Deference to me and my Dignity.

What can I say, Sir? Should I declare this Gentleman my Choice, I shou'd deceive both him and you. But, as a Debt to Duty, I promise I will endeavour to suit my Affections to your Will, I am his, if you command me so to be.

Victoria! Victoria! Ah, Celia, Celia! Thou hast made me happy.—And now, young Gentle­man, there needs only your Father's Consent, and such a Settlement as my Daughter deserves, and then she's yours without Reserve.

Consent and Settlement! Oh the Devil! This is a Scene left out of my Part: But the Plot shan't stand still.

Why do you muse, Sir! This cannot long postpone your Happiness, as I know your Father, Sir Ralph. is shortly to be in Town.

Shortly to be in Town! Why, Sir, he's in Town already; he arriv'd last Night; and I'll shew you the honestest old Fellow in Christendom, Sir, I'd have you to know, tho' youngest, I'm the Head of the Family; and the old Gentleman knows his Duty better than to contradict me, But I know, a­mong you Antiques, there's nothing like Proof posi­tive; so I will immediately produce him and his Consent.

I long for 'em—I long for 'em! And I dare say, for all her demure Look, my Daughter longs for 'em too.

No Doubt on't—no Doubt on't.—Adieu, ma Princesse! but for a Time, my Love, adieu!

Egad, thou'it a pretty Fellow!

[Page 23]

Now, Sir, remember what I told you, and take my Word another Time.

Wherever I go, &c.

how beats your Pulse? Any News from Smatter yet?

No, I did not expect any material Occurence in so short a Time. I have just had a Conference with my Landlord. As Serjeant Kite says, I have been oblig'd to let him into the Secret for the Sake of keeping it so.

[Oh, by the Importance of the Signal it can be no less a Per­son than my other Self. I long to know what the Ras­cal has done.

Dear Frank Modely, yours' Odso, t'other Gilbert here! then I must resign my Consequence with my Name.

Come, Sir, a Truce with your Foolery, and let me know what you have done.

The best I cou'd Sir.

Sirrah! that's no Answer!

Why then, Sir, in the first place, I easily in­troduc'd myself: In the second place I deliver'd your Letter—No, no, that's wrong.—In the second Place, I quitted my mock Character, and fell really and vi­olently in Love.

Why, you impudent, rascally—

With the Maid, Sir—with the Maid! Lord, you are so choloric you won't hear one out! In the next Place, as I was saying, I deliver'd your Letter.— The Plot was unravell'd—and now there is but a Tri­sle wanting.

[Page 24]

What's that?

Only your Father's Consent of the Wed­ding.

And, you bungling Blockhead, how is that to bo obtain'd?

Why, not at all, Sir. But we may continue the Cheat, and produce a false Father, as well as a mock Son. I told old Lockworth my Father was in Town; that I was secure of his Consent, and wou'd presently return with him in my Hand. Now, Sir, we have but this one cast for it—The Metamor­phosis must be general. Mr. Modely by the Help of a full Wig, and other necessary Marks of Gravity, must personate your or my Father, call him which you will, and the Business may be soon accom­plish'd.

Dear Modely, how do you re'ish this wild Expedient?

Faith, Ned, I cannot answer for my Abili­ties—But, as to my Will, 'tis at your Service without Hesitation: And so let us immediately make the ne­cessary Preparation.

But, Madam, don't be so severe upon me. Unless you suppose Prudence always attends Poverty, why should you wonder that I am frail, when you have prov'd yourself so? What is there more amaz­ing at my being smitten with the Man at first Sight, than your immediately conceiving a Passion for the Master?

Why, I must own, the whole of the Adven­ture savours rather more of the Romantic than the Prudent; but if the Catastrope is crown'd with Suc­cess, no Matter for the Time or Manner of its Com­mencement.

Love the Victor! O dear Madam, he has been victorious ever since the Creation. Indeed 'tis a Part of Prudence to take the strongest Side; and, for my Part, I'm determin'd not to list under any other Banner.

Nay, Girl, we are both Volunteers in the Service; and tho' we have not as yet taken the Oaths, we have gone too far to retreat. I am willing to keep up my Spirits, by hoping the best; but am afraid this Father's Consent, which my old Gentle­man so unfortunately chop'd upon, will prove an un­surmountable Difficulty.

Be of good Heart, Madam. My Strephon whisper'd me as he went out, that he had an Expe­dient to set all right.

Ha, ha, ha! well said! Ay, ay, I was just such another at his Years. But where? where is she? where is my Boy's Choice—my Daughter that i [...] to be?

[Page 26]

Here, Sir, at your Service — Advance, my little Rose-bud.

Oh, hoh! the young Dog has a Hawk's Eye. —Ay, ay, a true Gilbert. Ned! Ned! Sirrah! If I'm not soon made a Grandfather I shall disown you. Well, but Mr. Lockworth! Brother Lockworth! I must insist on having this Marriage consummated in Norfolk. I shall set off, and make Preparation; I'll keep open House, the whole Country shall be drunk for a Month. Heyboys! Up we go! Ha, ha, ha! But come, Master Lockworth, some Mirth, some Bu­siness.—We'll take the young Couple to my Son's Lodging, from whence I'll send to my Lawyer, do call on yours, and bring him with you; he shall draw a short Memorandum of our Agreement, the Writings may then be engross'd at large, do you bring 'em down with you, and we'll execute 'em on the Spot.

With all my Heart. But, Sir Ralph, is there an absolute Necessity for your going so soon? Can't you spare us a little of your Company here in London?

No, no, Master Lockworth; busy Time— busy Time — much to be done. And if my Boy Ned is not impatient, he's not of the Blood of the Gilberts. Come, you lucky young Dog, lead off your Prize in Triumph, and Brother Lockworth and I will bring up the Rear.

Your Pardon, Sir Ralph, I must first Search for a few Papers, to take with me to old Double­tongue's Chambers; but I'll be with you in less than an Hour.

So be it. On with you, my Turtles. Bro­ther-Father good b'wye to you.

And so you say you saw that hang Dog his Man in Town here?

Yes, Sir; but a'told me a didn't live wi young Measter now—but was minded to be a Gen­tleman his Self.

Art! all Art! a confounded Lye, Roger. The young 'Scape Grace is in Town as well as his Scoundrel Valet. The Spendthrist has run a rare Race at Oxford, and is now come to try his Speed in London; but I shall stop him in his Career. Fine Doings indeed! I have seen my old Friend and Cor­respondent, Mr. Trapwell of Oxford—I met him at Chelmsford, and he has let me into the whole Story —I believe the Devil's in the young Fellows now a Days, for my Part.

Laud, Sir! what's to be done? You'll ne­ver find young Measter in this great Town withawt you have'n cry'd.

Soft and fair, Roger — before I catch this wild Colt, I'll find a proper Halter to secure him.

Halter! Zure, Sir, you wou'dn't think o'having young 'Squire hang'd.

Hang'd! no; but I'll get him married, and that may do as well. Mr. Trapwell tells me of a Niece of his here in London, a discreet, pretty Wench. I'll pay a Visit to her Father, and if she answers his Account of her, I'll cure my young Gentleman of rambling, or cut him off with a Shil­ling.

But, my dear Celia, why do you doubt me?

Nay, mine are Fears indeed, that ought not to be indulg'd. As I've quitted my Castle, and delivered myself into the Hands of the Conqueror; 'tis the most politic Way to pique him into a Gene­rosity, by seeming to rely on it.

My dear, diffident Girl, believe me you have nothing to dread. My Honour is pledg'd, and my Conduct shall be such as shall immediately de­prive you of the least Right to doubt or complain.

Is Mr. Lockworth at home, Sir?

Yes, Sir.

If he is at Leisure, I shou'd be glad to speak to him.

My Master's here, Sir.

Your Servant, Sir! Your Business with me, pray?

Sir I was desir'd to call here, to discourse with you on a Matter of some Consequence, by my Friend and your Relation, Mr. Trapwell. I met him at Chelmsford, in his Way to Colchester. He told me he should return in a few Days, and in the mean Time, his Name wou'd be a sufficient Passport for me to you and your worthy Family.

Sir, I shall at all Times be glad to pay proper Regard to my Friend's Recommendation; but I have a Matter of Moment in Hand, and must beg the Favour of seeing you in the Morning.

[Page 30]

With all my Heart, Sir: But in the Inte­rim, Sir—Pardon an old Fellow's Importunity—will you indulge me with a Sight of your fair Daughter? For, to be free, my Visit is chiefly to her.

Then, Sir, to be as free—My Daughter is at present engaged in a Way, that to her m [...]st be more agreeable than entertaining either to you or me. In short, Sir, she is with her Lover—And I am now going to my Lawyer with these Papers, in order to prepare the necessary Articles of Marriage.

Say you so, Sir? O then my Hopes are at an End.

Why, pray, Sir, had you Hopes of marrying my Daughter?

Not I, indeed, Sir, but I had Thoughts of recommending a Son.

Sir, 'tis too late; my Girl's dispos'd of.

Pray, Sir—not to be too troublesome—On whom have you bestow'd this Jewel?

Sir, I have bestow'd her, if so you term it, on Mr. Gilbert, Son of one Sir Ralph Gilbert of Nor­folk.

Hey dey! But, Sir, don't you think you would have shewn a little more Prudence, by wait­ing 'till you had obtain'd his Father's Consent?

Sir, I hope you don't think me an Ideot. I had the Father's Consent.

The Devil you had! Pray, Sir, how did you get it, and when?

Sir, you are very free in your Enquiries. But as to your How, I promise you I did not extort it; and as to your When, I say, within this Hour. His Son brought him here; and he seem'd as eager for the Match as either of the young Couple.

Why, Sir, either you or I must be in a Dream. I never was with you before.

Sir, I don't pretend to say you was. But, pray, Sir, may I crave your Name.

Sir, I am Sir Ralph Gilbert of Norfolk.

How.

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Yes, so he is; and I'll swear it.

Say you so! I begin to fear some Trick. Within there!

Run to Mr. Gilbert's Lodging, and desire him and my Daughter to come hither instantly—

Sir, have you any Proof you are the true Sir Ralph Gilbert?

Not about me, Sir. But I can support my Assertion by the Testimony of many Persons of Cre­dit here in Town. But, Sir, if there is any Trick on the Carpet, I hope I am arriv'd soon enough to prevent the Execution of it. Perhaps you are no more secure as to the Identity of my Son's Person than mine.

Really, Sir, I am at a Loss what to say —but it will soon be explain'd, for here comes my Mr. Gilbert.

Say you so! On my Word, Sir, you may claim him when you please; I shall never dispute the Property.

Mr. Lockworth, your most devoted! Your Servant tells me you are in some Disorder; and as I now look upon myself as a Part of the Family, I shall do every Thing in my Power to promote its Tranquillity.

Hold, hold! ha!—No.—Yes it is that very Rascal his Man. Pray, Sir, where is your hope­ful Master?

Sirrah, answer me. Where have you left your intended Bride?

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My intended Bride! Sir, you must think very strangely of me to believe, that I, who have not been ten Minutes married to a first Wife, should have already cast my Eye on a Second.

Why, are you then fast married?

I am, Sir, Thanks to the Priest, the La­dy's Inclination, and my own Industry.

Undone! Undone!

Oh, now the Riddle's out! this Fellow has taken my Son's Name upon him, and all his Freaks and Irregularities have been laid at poor Ned's Door. I have been censuring my poor Boy's Conduct, as an Idler here in London, while he has been closely pursuing his Studies at the University. But, sweet Sir, let me have the Satisfaction of seeing the Lady you have so much honoured.

Here she comes, Sir.

—Sir, I hope you'll savour us with your good Wishes at least.

What! what Mockery is this?

No Mockery, Sir, 'tis Reality.—This is my Bride.

Is this true, Lucy?

Even so, Sir. I once in my Life forgot my good Manners, and took the Lead of my Bet­ters.

I am still in a Cloud! Where's my Daugh­ter?

With her Husband, Sir.

She married too! To whom, pray?

To a Person recommended by your Friend, Mr. Lackland. The worthy Language-Master, Sir.

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How's this!

As I tell you, Sir; and here they come.

Ah, Celia, Celia!

Hey! how! Ned! why 'tis Ned!— Sirrah, explain yourself—What do you mean by these Vagaries?

Why, Sir Ralph, do you know Domine?

Domine! What do you mean by Domine? This is my Boy Ned.

How, Sir Ralph! Is this really your Son?

I hope so. I am sure I can answer for my Wife's Part in him at least, But. Sirrah. Ned how durst you take this irregular Trip from Oxford, and trump up a Marriage without my Consent?

Dear Sir Ralph, let him account for that at Leisure this is no Time for Wrangling. By the Beginning of your Conversation, I am convinc'd the Match cannot be disagreeable to you: And, for my Part, I am so well pleas'd to find my Daughter has been led by Chance, to the Person my coolest Judg­ment wou'd have chosen, that I shall bury in Oblivion all Thoughts of the Intent, and make myself happy by reflecting on the pleasing Consequence.

Sir, I knew, some Time before this Affair came to a Crisis, this was the Gentleman you in­tended for me; but some Circumstances that attended our first Converse, made an Explanation wholly im­proper. Depend on't, Sir, though I might not have implicitly obey'd your Commands, by taking whom­soever you pleas'd to recommend, yet my Duty would not have suffer'd an Union with any Person, whose Character or Conduct could give you the least Offence.

You foolish wise Baggage, hold your Tongue, and don't attempt to mend Things when they are at the best.

On my Word, Sir, I am afraid I'm at the [Page 34]best, and yet I want mending. We all know what we are, but none of us know what we may be, as my Friend Shakespeare has it. I hope, Sir,

there will need no great Rhetoric to per­swade you to forgive my being concern'd in a Plot, the Catastrophe of which has turn'd out so much to the Satisfaction of all Parties. And, Sir,

All I ask of you as a Reward for my trifling Services, is, that Spousy and I may remain as followers of your good Fortunes, and be daily Witnesses of the Happiness we have endeavour'd to promote.

I am bound to you; and shall have a Pleasure in making the Return you wish. Now, my dear Celia, our Happiness is complete; and, don't think much of my Presumption, when I venture to declare it lasting.