_Enter CANTWELL and HERALD._

CANTWELL. I am very happy to find you home;--I was almost eat up with the vapours before I saw you. [_Sighs._]--Well, what's the news, Miss Herald?

HERALD. Nothing strange, Miss Tabitha; I am as barren of anything new, as an old Almanack.

CANTWELL. Oh shocking!--"as barren of anything new."--What an odious expression!--The most vulgarest comparison in nature.

HERALD. Umph.--I suppose, if Mr. Gracely was here, you would not be so much in the dumps.

CANTWELL. Ah, Miss Herald!--If you felt the corruptions of your wicked heart, you would be in the dumps too, as you call it.

[_Sighs._

HERALD. I believe there is a certain corruption in your heart, which our s.e.x are apt to feel very sensibly, and that is the want of a husband.

CANTWELL. The want of a husband!--I vow, you are monstrous indelicate, Miss Herald; I am afraid you are wandering from the paths of vartue, as dear good Mr. Gracely says.

HERALD. There comes his very reverse,--Mr. Worthnought.

CANTWELL. Ah, he is a profane rake; he is lighter than vanity, as Mr.

Gracely says;--a mere painted sepulchre.

HERALD. That ancient sepulchre of yours is pretty much daub'd, I think.

[_Aside._

_Enter WORTHNOUGHT._

WORTHNOUGHT. Ladies, _J'ay bien de la joye de vous voir._ I have the supernal and superlative hanor and felicity, of being most respectfully yours.

CANTWELL. I hope I have the pleasure to see Mr. Worthnought well.

WORTHNOUGHT. _La, La, Mademoiselle; a.s.sez bien: Je vous suis oblige._--She has reviv'd her wither'd chaps with rouge in a very nasty manner, 'pan hanor. [_Aside._]--Have you heard the news, respecting Miss Harriet Trueman, ladies?

CANTWELL. Yes, now I think on 't, there is a report about town, that old Mr. Loveyet saw her and another rather familiar together.

WORTHNOUGHT. Oh, you have not heard half, madam.

CANTWELL. Do, let us hear, Mr. Worthnought.

HERALD. Aye, do; but do not say anything that will hurt Miss Tabitha's delicacy; for, before you came in, I was complaining that I was _barren_ of anything new, and she was almost ready to swoon at the expression.

WORTHNOUGHT. If Miss Tabitha has such an antipathy to barrenness, she will not be offended at my subject, which is a very prolific one, I a.s.sure you; for Miss Trueman is on the verge of _bearing_ a son.

CANTWELL. Oh, horrid! What will this wicked world come to at last!--A good-for-nothing, wanton hussy.

WORTHNOUGHT. Very true, madam:--by persons of easy notions of virtue, indeed, it would be considered a trifling _faux pas_, as the French call it; a perfect _bagatelle_; or, at most, a superficial act of incontinency; but to those who have such rigid notions of virtue as Miss Cantwell, for example, or Miss Herald, or their humble servant; it appears quite another thing, quite another thing, ladies:--though it is one of my foibles;--I own it is a fault to be so intalerably nice about the affairs of women; but it is a laudable imperfection, if I may be allowed the phrase;--it is erring on the safe side, for women's affairs are delicate things to meddle with, ladies.

CANTWELL. You are perfectly in the right, Mr. Worthnought, but one can't help speaking up for the honour of one's s.e.x, you know.

WORTHNOUGHT. Very true, madam:--to make the matter still worse, ladies, Mr.

Loveyet is just arrived from abroad to be married to her; and the old gentleman is going to ally him immediately to Miss Maria Airy in consequence of it.

HERALD. I am glad of that, however;--I will forgive Miss Trueman her failing, if that is the case, for then I shall have a better chance to gain Frankton. [_Aside._

WORTHNOUGHT. But this is _entre nous_, ladies.--[_Looks at his watch._]

Hah,--the _tete-a-tete!_--Ladies, I have the hanor to be your slave.

[_Going._

CANTWELL. You are positively the greatest lady's man, Mr. Worthnought,--

WORTHNOUGHT. I am proud of your compliment, madam; and I wish Miss Tabitha could consider me such, from her own experience; it would be conferring the highest hanor on her slave, 'pan hanor.

CANTWELL. Oh, sir,--your politeness quite confuses me. [_Curtsying._

WORTHNOUGHT. Miss Herald, your thrice devoted.--_Mademoiselle, je suis votre Serviteur tres humble._

CANTWELL. Mr. Worthnought, your servant.--[_Exit WORTHNOUGHT._]--Don't you think he is a very pretty fellow, Miss Herald?--He's the very pattern of true politeness; his address is so winning and agreeable,--and then, he talks French, with the greatest felicity imaginable.

HERALD. I cannot say I see many perfections in him; but you talk'd very differently just now;--Mr. Worthnought then was lighter than vanity; and now, it seems, he has more weight with you, than good Mr. Gracely.

CANTWELL. You are only mortify'd that Mr. Worthnought took so little notice of you, ma'am; you see he prefers me to you, though you value yourself so much upon being a little young, ma'am; you see men of sense don't mind a few years, ma'am; so your servant, ma'am.

[_Exit._

HERALD [_manet_].

What a vain old fool! Now will she make this story of her swain spread like a contagion: as for me, I must circulate it pretty briskly too; perhaps, it may make me succeed better with Frankton; otherwise the poor girl might lie in peaceably, for me.

[_Exit._

SCENE IV. _OLD LOVEYET'S House._

_OLD LOVEYET discovered solus._

_Enter CHARLES LOVEYET._

CHARLES. Mr. Loveyet, your most obedient.

LOVEYET. Sir, your servant.

CHARLES. Don't you know me, sir?

LOVEYET. Yes, I think I have seen you before.

CHARLES. You really have, sir.

LOVEYET. Oh, yes, I recollect now;--you are the person who have supplanted my son.