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in the papers: a genteel hint for the whole town to come and stare us out of countenance.

Flo. That's because we are fashionable people, your worship.

Sir T. Fashionable! fiddlestick! Don't I hate fashion and notoriety, invitations, and congratulations! There's that old torment-Lady Gadabout,

Mar. Old! Sir.

Sir T. I beg her venerable ladyship's pardon; for, though upon the desperation of fifty-six, she has not yet arrived at her years of discretion!

Mar. What do you think of the Widow Night-shade? She dances and sings well, plays upon the harp, and is a tolerable artist.

Sir T. A very tolerable artist! for she paints to a miracle! Plays upon the harp too ;-does'nt she play upon every body?-But, Maria, I expect Sir Marmaduke Metaphor here to-day; see that you give him a proper recep

tion.

Mar. [sullenly.] Very well, sir.

Sir T. It is not very well, madam; it's very ill.—What! I suppose that intriguing spark, Captain Wing'em, keeps running in your head; a rascal whom I have never been able to catch a glimpse of. I should long e're this have laid him by the heels, had he not, upon all occasions, taken to 'em so expeditiously.

Mar. The captain is a gentleman, sir.

Sir T. Aye, a military gentleman; one who wears all his gold on the outside of his pockets! But Sir Marmaduke is a warm man; and, what is more, he is the man of my choice.

Mar. But not of mine, sir.

Sir T. Pshaw! Does'nt a ready-made shoe often fit as well as a bespoke one?

Mar. Then he's so old-fashion'd!—

Flo. So pedantic!

Mar. So conceited!

Flo. So ridiculous!

Sir T. Zounds! D'ye mean to stun me with his good qualities? At your peril make a fool of him.

[Exit Sir Timothy, L. Flo. He will, no doubt, save us the trouble, by making One of himself.

Mar. You see, Flora, my father continues inexorable. What step should I take to avoid this odious marriage?

Flo. A good many steps, Miss.-Run away.-Here we are, cooped up, like two distressed damsels in a romance, persecuted by a couple of-not enchanters indeed!-Sir Marmaduke Metaphor and his servant, Billy Bombast. Mar. Nay, Flora, 'tis past a jest.

Flo. 'Tis enough to provoke one, to see the conceited knight approach you with a compliment in form, mood, and figure. Then that chattering play-actor, Billy Bombast." Good morning, Madam Flora!-permit me to salute your fair hand, Madam Flora!" Indeed, more than once, Madam Flora's fair hand longed to salute him! Mar. Heigho!That agreeable rake, Captain Wing'em! Flo. Lackaday! That bewitching rogue, Corporal Jeremy! Ah! if the truant were here, I should almost be inclined to forgive him.

AIR. FLORA.

(TUNE." When the hollow drum.")
When a happy pair, to cure the spleen,
Take a stolen trip to Gretna Green,
With a merry sound

The wheels run round,

And crack goes the whip so cheerily.
Hymen stands

To join their hands,

And they drive along so merrily!

Let the turnpike gates be open'd wide,
See, they approach! the bridegroom and bride-
Friends pursue,

What can they do,

Their horses lag so wearily?

Cupid sly

Stands quizzing by,

And laughs in his sleeve so merrily.

When a happy pair, to cure the spleen,
Take a stolen trip to Gretna Green,
With a merry sound

The wheels run round,

And crack goes the whip so cheerily-
Hymen's bands

Soon join their hands,

And they drive away so merrily.

[Exeunt, L.

SCENE III-A Street in Bath.

Enter CAPTAIN Wing'em, r.

Capt. Welcome, dear delightful Bath! thou scene of gaiety, fashion, and intrigue!-Now to open the campaign. Hah! who comes this way? "Tis my whimsical acquaintance, Sir Marmaduke Metaphor, sporting his antiquated figure between two pretty women. Ha ha ha! He looks for all the world like the Fool of Fashion bound in old calf! How gracefully he takes his leave too: with a bow that might be reckoned fashionable in Queen Elizabeth's time.

Enter Sir MARMADUKE METAPHOR, L.

Sir M. Charming, delectable creatures!-Soh, Captain Wing'em―satirical puppy! [Aside.]

Capt. [Aside.] Pedantic coxcomb!

Sir M. [Aside.] Must rub off a little of my college rust, or he'll be quizzing me. Fine weather for recruiting, Captain! Delightful season for love, logic, and all that—eh?

Capt. Here's a transformation !-the pedant aping the beau!

Sir M. I suppose, Bob, you're at your old pranks again ? You hav'nt come to Bath for nothing-maids, widows, wives-all fair game-poaching, captain, poaching.

Capt. You must know, Sir Marmaduke, that I'm about to take out a license to sport upon the manor of matrimony.

Sir M. Matrimony!-He! he! he !-With whom, may I make bold to inquire?

Capt. A divine creature! young and beautiful! formed with exquisite symmetry, and rising just above the middle size.

Sir M. Not a huge folio, but something between an octavo and a duodecimo.

Capt. Then, she has sparkling eyes, a fair complexion, dimpled cheeks, bewitching smiles, with such a blush!

Sir M. Egad, she's a charmer! and very much resembles the lady whom I am going to marry.

Capt. What have you taken a trip to Bath upon a matrimonial expedition, too?

Sir M. Don't start so, Bob. Is it so very surprising that I should take a fancy to a lady?

Capt. No; but it's very surprising that a lady should take a fancy to you.

Sir M. I suppose I'm not beau enough? because, forsooth, I don't follow the fashions.

Capt. Yes, you do follow 'em; but you're a dev'lish long way behind! And do you really intend to be married in that coat?

Sir M. Undoubtedly. You would'nt have me be married without one!

Capt. And how long may you have been in love?

Sir M. Six weeks, and better! I would'nt be without love for the world, it makes one so sweetly melancholy. I'm a lucky dog, Captain; I'm a fortunate youth! The preliminaries are settled, and we only want the minister to ratify the treaty.

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Capt. Of peace, I hope. Matrimony, you know, is famous for squalls.

Sir M. But not for civil wars-eh, captaiu?

Capt. Perhaps, you will favour me with the fair lady's

name?

Sir M. Delicacy forbid! Well, it won't be the first conquest that I've effected. There was the rich wine-merchant's daughter, of Portsoken Ward, would occasionally smirk at me! and the dashing shoemaker's widow to boot, now and then levelled her sparklers at my physiognomy! Courtship's a charming thing! and so is matrimony! Sir Steeple and the widow Glib for that!

AIR. SIR MARMADUKE.

(TUNE. "Heigho!' says Rowley.")

Sir Steeple he courted the queer Widow Glib-
Heigho! Sir Steeple,-

He knew she was rich, and he wanted to crib
Her cash, so he offer'd to make her his rib,
With his teazing, pleasing,
Hoaxing and coaxing :

A comical beau was Sir Steeple.

Her purse it was long, though her person was short-
Heigho! Si Steeple-

And her beauty was none of the ravishing sort,

Yet the eye of his knightship her money-bags caught,—

Their mingling, jingling,

Soon set a tingling

The sensitive heart of Sir Steeple.

Now love, in return, the fair widow enthrals,
And fondly she ogled Sir Steeple ;
They gadded together to concerts and balls,
Like the monument link'd to the dome of St. Paul's!
With their perking, smirking,
Winking and blinking,

The fair Mrs. Glib and Sir Steeple.

They trotted to church, for their passion increas'd
The parson he whisper'd Sir Steeple-

"Your wife's rather short."-"You are right, master priest;

But, in choosing two evils, I've chosen the least!"
With their roley poley,
Coupled so drolly,

Off march'd Widow Glib and Sir Steeple.

[Bombast is heard singing without "O rare, Manager Strut !"]

Sir M. Here comes my amanuensis, Billy Bombast. The fellow was formerly a strolling player. I took him Just in time to save his whole wardrobe from the pawnbroker's.

Enter BOMBAST, L.

Bomb. O my prophetic soul! my uncle!

Sir M. You see, he's riding the high horse, as usual. Bomb. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. Sir M. And a thousand to that, I'll be sworn. Billy Bombast, I say!

Bomb. Cousin of Buckingham, I greet ye!

Sir M. Don't cousin me, Billy, or I shall greet you with a cudgel.

Bomb. Cudgel thy brains!

Sir M. He's crazy. We must have his head shav'd.

Bomb. [Sings.] Four-and-twenty perriwigs all of a row! The truth is, sir, I have just met some old acquaintances, and I'm half mad with joy. There are Peregrine Truncheon, Jack Spangle, and the property-man, with the wardrobe, scenery, and machinery, all arriv'd together in a cart.

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