plicity of dress, and a vast acquired fund of hatred for play? Love. This is downright raillery, Lappet, to make me up a fortune out of the expenses she won't put me toBut there is another thing that disturbs me. You know this girl is young, and young people generally love one anothers's company; it would ill agree with a person of my temper to keep an assembly for all the young rakes, and flaunting girls in town. Laps Ah, Sir, how little do you know of her! This is another particularity that I had to tell you of ;-she has a most terrible aversion to young people, and loves none but persons of your years I would advise you, above all things, to take care not to appear too young. She insists on sixty, at least. She says that fifty-six years are not able to content her. Love, This humor is a little strange, methinks. Lap..She carries it further, Sir, than can be imagined. She has in her chamber several pictures; but, what do you think they are ? None of your smoothfaced young fellows, your Adonis', your Paris' and your Apollo's: No, Sir, you see nothing there, but your handsome figures of Saturn, king priam, old Nestor, and good father Anchises upon his son's shoulders. Love. Admirable ! This is more than I could have hoped; to say the truth, had I been a woman, I should never have loved young fellows. Lap. I believe you: pretty sort of stuff, indeed, to be in love with your young fellows! Pretty masters, indeed, with their fine conplexions, and their fine features! Love. And do you really think me pretty tolerable ? Lap. Tolerable! you are ravishing: If your picture was drawn by a good hand, Sir, it would be invaluable ! Turn about a little, if you please-there what can be more charming? Let me see you walk-there's a person for you; tall, straight, free and degagee: Why, Sir, you have no fault about you. Love. Not many-hem-hem-not many, I thank heaven; only a few rheumatic pains now and then, and a small catarrh that seizes me sometimes. Lap. Ah, Sir, that's nothing; your catarrh sits very well upon you, and you cough with a very good grace. Love. But tell me, What does Mariana say of my person ? Lap. She has a particular pleasure in talking of it; and I assure you, Sir, I have not been backward, on all such occasions, to blazon fort your merit, and to make her sensible how advantageous a match you will be to her ? Love. You did very well, and I am obliged to you. Lap. But, Sir, I have a sinail favor to ask of you ;I have a lawsuit depending, which I am on the very brink of losing, for want of a little money; [He looks gravely and you could easily procure my success,if you had the least friendship for me.-You can't imagine, Sir, the pleasure she takes in talking of you: (He looks pleas ed) Ah! how you will delight her, how your venerable mien will charm ber! She will never be able to withstand you. But indeed, Sir, this lawsuit will be a terible consequence to me; (He looks grave again) I am ruined if I loose it; which a very small matter might prevent-ah! Sir, had you but seen the raptures with which she heard me talk of you. (He resumes his gaiety) How pleasure sparkled in her eyes at the recital of your good qualities! In short, to discover a secret to you, which I promised to conceal, I have worked up her imagination till she is downright impatient of having the match concluded, Love. Lappet, you have acted a very friendly part; and I own that I have all the obligations in the world to you. Lap. I beg you would give me this little assistance, Sir; (He looks serious) It will set me on my feet, and I shall be eternally obliged to you. Love. Farewell; I'll go and finish my dispatches. Lap. I assure you, Sir, you could never assist me in a greater necessity. Love. I must give some orders about a particular affair. Lap. I would not importune you, Sir, if I was not forced by the last extremity. Love. I expect the tailor, about turning my coat ;don't you think this coat will look well enough turned, and with new buttons, for a wedding suit ? Lap. For pity's sake, Sir, don't refuse me this small favor: I shall be undone, indeed, Sir. If it were but so small a matter as ten pounds, Sir Love. I think I hear the tailor's voice. Lap. If it were but five pounds, Sir; but three pounds, Sir; nay, Sir, a single guinea would be of service for a day or two. As he offers to go out on either side he intercepts him.] Love. I must go, I can't stay--hark, there! Somebody calls me-I am very much obliged to you, indeed; I am very much obliged to you. Lap. Go to the devil, like a covetous good for noth- But far beyond my depth; my high blown pride Never to hope again. Why, how now, Cromwell ? [Enter Cromwell. Crom. I have no power to speak, Sir. At my misfortunes ? Can thy spirit wonder A great man should decline I'm fallen indeed. Nay, if you weep, Crom. How does your grace? Wol. Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. A peace above all earthly dignities A still and quiet conscience. The king has curst me, 1 humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, These ruiu'd pillars, out of pity taken A load would sink a navy, too much honor. Crom. I'm glad your grace has made that right use of it. Wol. I hope I have: I'm able, now, methinks, T'endure more miseries, and greater far, Crom. The heaviest and the worst Is your displeasure with the king. Wol. God bless him! Crom. The next is, that Sir Thomas Moore is chosen Lord Chancellor in your place. Wol. That's somewhat sudden But he's a learned man. May he continue For truth's sake, and his conscience; that his bones, Crom. That Cranmer is return'd with welcome ; Install'd Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. Wol. That's news indeed ! Crom. Last, that the Lady Anne, Whom the king hath in secresy long married, Only about her coronation. Wol. There was the weight that pull'd me down: 0 The king has gone beyond me; all my glories No sun shall ever usher forth my honors, Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; To be thy lord and master; seek the king- (I know his noble nature) not to let Thy hopeful service perish too. Good Cromwell; Crom. Oh, my lord! Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego Wol. Cromwell-I did not think to shed a tear Let's dry our eyes; and thus far bear me, Cromwell. · And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention |